Hello everyone, I'm back with another chapter. Thank you to everyone who reviewed it makes my day reading them. I wanted to have this written a few weeks ago in line with some of the other stories I've been writing but I hit a real wall creatively with this chapter. I managed to break through by sitting down for a few hours today and not moving until I had worked through it so I hope the chapter is up to standard. Anyway, Happy Easter and please do enjoy this chapter. I will begin work on the next one as soon as I can.

To the Guest reviewer Futte who asked me what my favourite colour is, it's red. If anyone else has any questions please don't hesitate to leave them in your reviews I quite like the idea!

Also a special thank you to Watchman1 who's PM's helped get me moving and power through to write this chapter!

Flashes

Chapter 24

The sunlight streaming through the window directly onto his face forced Eragon reluctantly out of sleep. Blinking groggily, he raised his head, feeling pain shoot through his neck at the motion. For a moment he was unsure of where he was, the living room he was in was not his own. Then as the fog of sleep cleared he realised he was lying on Arya's sofa, and the woman in question was curled up into his side.

Eragon could not help the wide smile that broke out onto his face as he remembered the previous night, they had kissed on her sofa well into the night and then talked about anything, nothing and kissed some more before falling into an exhausted sleep. Eragon didn't know why they hadn't moved into her room and he was now paying the price for that decision, stretching his body out he heard his back pop and groaned softly at the sensation.

Arya stirred at the noise, her eyes opening and closing sleepily a few times. Eragon saw confusion cloud her expression as like him she took a few seconds to work out where she was, he saw the memories of the night before spark again behind her eyes and then they met his. A slow smile spread across her face and with a contented sigh she cuddled closer to him, pressing a kiss to his shoulder. "Morning." She murmured.

"Good morning." Eragon leant down and pressed a gentle kiss to her lips, his heart soaring when she returned it enthusiastically. Despite her many assurances the night before that she wanted this, she wanted them, there was still a small part of Eragon that feared that the cold light of the morning would bring regret. But as Arya pressed herself against him, her hand coming up to cup his cheek that fear receded to be replaced by a wonderful warm feeling that spread throughout his entire body.

"Owww." Arya's hiss of pain pulled them both out of the kiss.

"Are you ok?" Eragon asked urgently sitting upright, putting some distance between them. Arya struggled to stand up, one hand clutching her side gently.

"Yeah I'm fine." She grunted. "I guess sleeping on a tiny sofa is not a good idea when you have broken ribs." she chuckled and winced in pain.

"Probably not, maybe we should have moved to the bed." Arya looked up an eyebrow arched. "I didn't mean like that!" Eragon protested. "I would have slept on the couch I don't expect us to just…you know…well not right away of course I want too…" his panicked ramblings were cut off when Arya pressed a firm kiss to his lips.

"Stop talking." She murmured against his mouth. "And go and get me a glass of water." Eragon nodded and was immediately on his feet heading to the kitchen. When he reappeared a moment later he handed the glass to Arya who had retrieved her painkillers from the bathroom, she accepted the glass with a grateful smile and tossing the pills into her mouth washed it down with a few gulps of water.

Easing herself gently down onto the sofa Arya looked up at Eragon who had remained standing, the concerned look back on his face. "Are you ok?"

"I will be once these painkillers kick in." Arya replied, Eragon nodded but the look didn't fade. It was then that Arya realised that he wasn't just asking about her physical pain, he was asking about the night before, and whether or not she stood by her decision.

"I don't regret anything."

The four simple words, unprompted brought the biggest smile to Eragon's face and Arya couldn't help but smile along with him, it was infectious and as he moved forward to kiss her again Arya pushed down the panicked side of her brain that flared into life every time she allowed her walls to slip, pushed it deep enough so that the usually deafening voice in her head was reduced to a low murmur.

How long it stayed that way was another matter.

Eragon would have stayed with Arya all day if he could have, but the buzzing of his phone that had started up not long after they had woken up got in the way of those plans. Checking his phone Eragon saw that Saphira had been calling and texting since early that morning, Eragon remembered with a twinge of guilt that their last words the evening before had been cold and distant. It was no wonder she was getting worried when he hadn't come home and he hadn't called or even texted, the events of the night before had driven all of those thoughts from his mind which made him feel even guiltier.

Even with this knowledge it still took Eragon a further half an hour to leave, this was mainly because he couldn't seem to drag his lips away from Arya's, no matter how hard he tried. "You really should go." She chuckled as Eragon pulled back for about the tenth time only to give a soft groan and lean straight back in again.

"I know, it's just so difficult." Eragon grumbled.

"Go!" Arya laughed, pushing him away with a playful glare.

"Fine." Eragon pretended to pout but grinned a second later. "I'll call you later?"

"That'd be great." Arya opened the door, giving him one last kiss before ushering him out into the hallway.

Eragon will still smiling when he entered the flat less than half an hour later. But this smile dropped in a second when he walked into the living room to see Saphira on her feet, arms crossed over her chest and a stern look in her eyes.

"Where the hell have you been?!" She demanded the moment Eragon set foot into the living room, causing him to stop dead, still twirling his keys round on his finger. "I know you were pissed at me yesterday but the least you could have done is give me a call, a text, anything!"

"I'm sorry, I lost track of time and ended up crashing at a friend's." Eragon crossed the room to the kitchen and pouring himself a glass of water.

"You always tell me though." Saphira appeared in the doorway.

"It was one time, and I've said sorry, I'm not sure what else you want me to say!" Eragon said, exasperation colouring his tone. Saphira opened her mouth, some choice words clearly on the tip of her tongue, but they never came out. Instead she seemed to deflate, collapsing into a nearby chair she cradled her head in her hands.

"You don't have to say anything Eragon, you're an adult I can't stop what you do and don't do." She sighed heavily, "It's just in the short time you've been here you've grown up so much and changed, and I know that's a good thing, it's just…it's strange for me."

Eragon didn't know what to say, bobbing down next to her he placed a comforting hand on her shoulder, squeezing softly. "I'm sorry." He mumbled.

"You don't have to apologise for growing up Eragon." Saphira replied with a half laugh, lifting her head she looked at him with her piercing blue eyes, shinning with tears. "It's silly of me to wish that you would stay the same innocent child forever." She placed a hand over his and gave it a squeeze. "I'm sorry I overreacted." Without waiting for him to say anything in return Saphira stood up and left the living room leaving Eragon alone.

Morzan sipped from his coffee cup as he sank down into one of the leather armchairs that sat in his living room, across from him Murtagh was sprawled out on the sofa, still fast asleep. Morzan watched his son with a calculated expression, taking in the way one of his legs hung off the side of the sofa whilst his right arm draped over his eyes.

Just like his mother.

The thought rose unbidden in his mind and for a moment Morzan was taken aback, it had been a long time since he had thought about his wife and the spark of emotion that flickered low in his chest was quickly squashed by his natural defences.

He was saved from dwelling further on his emotions by Murtagh stirring, pushing himself up on his elbows Murtagh groaned softly before his eyes focused on his father sitting across from him.

"How long have you been sat there?" he croaked.

"Not long." Morzan gestured to a coffee cup. "Made you that."

"Thanks," Murtagh mumbled suspiciously.

"How are you feeling this morning?"

"Rough." Murtagh groaned. After his humiliating dismissal from Varden the day before he had gone straight to the pub, despite it only being midday, he had started drinking and hadn't stopped until the barman had physically pulled his glass from his hands. The alcohol swirling round in his stomach had done nothing to damper his anger, if anything it had rapidly fuelled the fire inside him causing it to build and build until he was consumed by it.

From the bar he had stumbled round the city, no real destination in mind until he had looked up and found himself standing outside his father's building. Murtagh could not have predicted a day when he would have come here willingly, but after the day's events he didn't really have anywhere else to go.

"I'm not surprised." Morzan took a tentative sniff, "It smells like a brewery in here." Murtagh cast his father a dark look as he sipped his coffee, wincing at the harsh taste.

"So do you want to tell me what happened yesterday?" Morzan waited until Murtagh had finished his drink before he spoke again, he of course already knew what had happened at Varden the day before. Sloan had been on the phone to him before Murtagh had even left the building, but he wanted to hear it from his son's mouth.

"It was humiliating." Murtagh muttered staring down into his empty cup. "In front of all those people, accusing me without any proof!"

"I did warn you about them." Morzan sighed. "They were never going to accept you; they were never going to trust you."

"But…"

"I think the time has come for you to reconsider Galbatorix's offer." Murtagh looked up at his father's words.

"I'm not going to meet with him." He protested vehemently.

"Then why did you come here?" Morzan stood up, looming over his son he looked down at him sternly. "You didn't come here for comfort, you stopped looking to me for that long ago."

"For good reason." Murtagh muttered.

Morzan ignored him. "You came here because you're angry, because they betrayed you, you gave them your trust and expected it in return, and you were met with nothing but suspicions and false accusations. I understand that, you came here because you want to get even, and I can help you do that. Galbatorix can help you do that."

Murtagh still looked sceptical but after a moment of thought he stood up, meeting his father's eyes determinedly. "I'm not promising anything." He said. "But I will meet him."

Morzan's lips pulled up in a sneer. "Good."

By the time Murtagh made it back to his flat later that morning his hangover had well and truly kicked in, flopping down on the sofa he groaned loudly as the motion caused his head to swim violently accompanied by a throbbing pain. The loud vibrating of his phone prompted another groan, picking it up he glanced at the name flashing on the screen.

Eragon.

At the sight of his friends name the memories of his humiliation at Varden the day before came rushing back and Murtagh felt the anger rising in him once again. Pushing the answer button, he held the phone up to his ear, brow furrowed in a scowl he knew Eragon couldn't see.

"Hello."

"Hi, Murtagh it's me."

"Yeah, what do you want?" Murtagh's tone was clipped and he could hear the surprise in Eragon's voice when he answered.

"I was calling to check up on you, see how you're doing."

"How do you think I'm doing?!" Murtagh demanded. "I was humiliated in front of the entire company, tossed out into the street like a stray dog!"

"It was unfair," Eragon agreed quickly.

"Unfair?! It was more than unfair! I'm not even sure what I was supposed to have done, all I know is that I was judged purely because of who my father is!"

"I know that! And I get why you're angry I really do." Eragon's voice had taken on a desperate edge. "Let me talk to Saphira, maybe she can speak to Ajihad again, get him to change his…"

"No!" Murtagh was on his feet, anger spiking at the mention of Eragon's best friend and the man who had fired him. "I don't want anything from them! They made their choice, and that choice is going to cost them dearly."

"What do you mean?"

"They're going to regret getting rid of me." Murtagh promised and before Eragon could say anything else he hung up and tossed the phone onto the sofa, where it immediately began to ring again. Murtagh ignored it, heading for the fridge he yanked it open causing the bottles inside to clink loudly. Snatching up a bottle of beer he flipped the top off and downed half the contents before he finally took a deep breath and forcing himself to calm down.

He knew that his anger at Eragon was irrational, it wasn't his fault he had been fired, but he was Saphira's friend and that made him guilty by association in Murtagh's book. The rage that was consuming him was stronger than anything he had ever felt before and all Murtagh could think about was getting even, as he paced his flat, angrily sipping at his beer his mind rolled over all the ways he could make Ajihad, Saphira, Arya and Varden pay for his humiliation.

Murtagh had not inherited much from his father, asides from his hair and facial structure, most of Murtagh's traits and personality quirks had come from his mother. But unfortunately for the young man one of the few things that had passed down from father to son was his temper, and the irrational reckless behaviour that came with it. Had he not been so wrapped up in his own hurt and anger Murtagh may have been able to take a step backwards and realise that his situation suited his father perfectly and was the opportunity he had been waiting for to convince Murtagh to meet with Galbatorix, thereby being the very person that Varden had suspected him to be. Morzan was clever, he knew his son and he knew that he was prone to emotional responses, and Murtagh's dismissal from Varden, whilst not directly orchestrated by Morzan had been the intended outcome of his son's position within Varden.

As Murtagh yanked another beer from his fridge and stomped back into his living room, his blood still boiling and his mind working at a hundred miles an hour he was not aware that his actions in the coming days would bring disaster for all those he had known at Varden.

Eragon lowered his phone from his ear, eyebrows knotted in a worried frown, it had been ten minutes since Murtagh had hung up on him and he'd tried calling his friend back five times, each effort ringing straight through to voicemail.

They're going to regret getting rid of me

Murtagh's last words ran round and round in his head and the more Eragon thought about them the more worried he became, there had been something familiar about the tone of his friend's voice, Eragon wracked his brains trying to think of where he had heard it before.

And then it hit him.

His memory filled in the blanks for him, the inside of a limo, a man with mismatched eyes sitting across him from, a sneer pulling at his lips as the words dripped from his mouth like a poison. On the phone Murtagh had sounded exactly like his father.

The realisation made Eragon's blood run cold.

"What's wrong?" Saphira's voice startled him, turning he found her standing in the doorway watching him with a concerned look. "You're as white as a sheet!"

"Ummm" Eragon had to warn her, he didn't know what he was warning her of but the menace in Murtagh's words was too big to ignore. "I was just on the phone with Murtagh."

Saphira's worried expression vanished to be replaced with a scowl. "Why were you talking to him?! Eragon, I know he's your friend, but after what happened yesterday I think it would be best if you had no contact with him. Remember that he was fired for a reason."

"Yes, I know that, but Saphira, there's something you need to know!" Eragon tried to protest but Saphira cut him off.

"No! there's nothing more that I need to know about that boy!" she strode into the room, stopping within two feet of him eyes blazing.

"Saphira…"

"I mean it Eragon, he's bad news." Saphira turned on her heel and marched from the room before Eragon could say another word, as her bedroom door slammed a couple of moments later Eragon growled in frustration, running a hand roughly through his hair.

Grabbing his phone from where he'd tossed it onto the coffee table he quickly selected a number and dialled it holding the phone up to his ear. "Hi, it's me. Can we meet?"

"What's wrong?" Arya asked the moment she sat down at the table, her eyes taking in his bouncing knee and worried expression. Eragon looked up at the sound of her voice, a smile breaking out on his face as he felt some of the tension of the last hour melt away. "Are you ok?" Arya carried on when he didn't speak.

"I'm fine," Eragon replied. "I just had an argument with Saphira that's all."

"About what?" Arya asked warily. "Was it about us?"

"Why would it be about us?" Eragon frowned. "No, it was about Murtagh."

"Oh, I see." Arya put her bag down on the floor. "You've spoken to him?"

"Yeah, I called him earlier today."

"What did he have to say?" Arya's voice was level, clinical, the kind of voice he heard from her at work.

"Well he was angry, and quite rightly too he was treated very unfairly."

"Eragon," Arya began diplomatically. "I know Murtagh was your friend, but Ajihad wouldn't have fired him if he didn't have proof that he'd done something wrong."

"Murtagh has no idea what it was he was supposed to have done." Eragon defended his friend. "And I think Ajihad may have made a mistake, one that could be really bad."

"What do you mean?" Arya frowned and leant forward.

"Before I got off the phone with him he said that Ajihad was going to regret firing him."

"What did he mean?"

"I don't know," Eragon sighed. "He hung up before I could ask him anything else. But he sounded pretty serious."

Arya leant back in her chair, a thoughtful look on her face. "I'm sure he doesn't mean anything by it, like you said he's angry and upset so he's just lashing out."

"I guess."

"But comments like that for me only further confirm Ajihad's suspicions. I know you don't want to believe it of him, but maybe he is more like his father than you thought."

"I can't believe that." Eragon replied stubbornly, but even as he heard the words his mind flashed with his memory of Morzan in the car and Murtagh's voice over the phone and how similar they had sounded.

"You may have to." Arya said forlornly, standing she picked up her purse. "Do you want a drink?"

"What?" Eragon was pulled from his thoughts. "Oh yes, a beer please." As Arya made to leave he reached out and grabbed her hand, pulling her towards him he pressed a soft kiss to her lips.

"What was that for?" she murmured when he released her hand, keeping their faces close together,

"No reason." Eragon replied with a smirk. "I've just wanted to do it since you sat down." Arya rolled his eyes and straightened up.

"I'll get the drinks in." she walked off to the bar leaving Eragon sat at the table, momentarily forgetting his troubles with Murtagh as he watched her go.

When she returned a few moments later with their drinks Arya took her seat again, although this time Eragon was delighted when she dragged her chair a few inches round the table so she was next to him. He wanted to take her hand, but he knew that was pushing it so he busied his hands, using both to hold the beer bottle she had handed him.

"So how did you leave things with Saphira?" Eragon looked up from his bottle, the smile on his face turning into a frown.

"Not the best." He admitted finally.

"Don't you think you should be at home trying to fix it?" Arya asked gently.

Eragon sighed heavily, running a hand through his hair. "I don't know; it just seems that lately all we're doing is arguing." A mournful look passed over his face. "It's never been like this before."

"That's what happens when you live with someone, being together all that time can cause trivial arguments." Arya sighed.

"Yeah, I guess so." Eragon took a sip of his drink. They lapsed into silence for a moment, each consumed by their own thoughts.

"Is there a chance you could talk to Ajihad about Murtagh?" Eragon broke the silence with a question that had Arya's eyebrows shooting up in surprise.

"What would I say?"

"That this isn't like him, to just talk to him and maybe give him another chance." Eragon knew he was grasping at straws and the look on Arya's face told him her answer before the words were out of her mouth.

"I can't do that Eragon," she sighed. "Ajihad made his decision with the information he had, and I'm afraid the information painted your friend in a very bad light." She ran a hand through her hair and sighed again.

"What information?"

"I can't tell you that Eragon, but things are more complicated than you understand, there's a lot happening at Varden, things that could turn very dangerous and Ajihad is working as hard as he can to make sure that nothing happens."

"What things are happening? Is this to do with the accounts we were looking at when the warehouse was attacked?" Eragon leant forward. "Who attacked us Arya? I know you and Saphira know,"

Arya hesitated. "I don't know if it's my place to…"

"Come on Arya, I was there too I think I have a right to know who it was who tried to kill us!" Arya drained the last of her wine as she considered her next words. Eragon had a point, the events of the last few months did concern him, the killing of Garrow, the attack on the warehouse, it appeared that a lot of Empire's actions recently directly related to Eragon.

The thought sent a chill running down Arya's spine and she made a mental note to speak to Ajihad on the phone as soon as she could, but right now she needed to give Eragon an answer.

"We are pretty sure that Empire was behind the attack on the warehouse." Eragon's eyes widened immediately at her words.

"Empire?" he repeated. "But why would they attack the warehouse, what did they want?"

"We don't know." Arya shrugged. "But the man who attacked me is called Durza, he's…unofficially one of Morzan's men."

The name rang a bell and Eragon racked his brains to work out where he had heard it before. "Brom mentioned him once," he said as the memory surfaced. "At that trade's conference thing we went too, the one Morzan showed up at." Arya looked surprised at his memory but nodded slowly.

"Yes, he was the one who led the attack on the warehouse so we believe that it was Morzan and Galbatorix who ordered it."

"If you know that why didn't you tell the police that?" Eragon demanded.

"Because Galbatorix has people in the police, an investigation would get nowhere." Arya replied.

"Surely he can't have that much influence?!"

"You'd be surprised, Galbatorix has spent the better part of the last four decades making friends in all the right places and he knows exactly how to use them." Arya knew she was probably telling Eragon too much and wondered if she was soft but Eragon's next words stopped her dead.

"Is that why Garrow died?" the question was soft, so soft that Arya almost missed it.

"What do you mean?"

"Was the attack on the farm ordered by Galbatorix too?" Eragon's expression was calm, but the shining of his eyes gave away how raw the emotions still were for him.

"Eragon, I can't tell you what happened on that farm because I don't know." Arya felt guilty lying to him, but she knew what he wanted to hear couldn't come from her. "You'll need to speak to Brom about it." at the mention of the older man's name a strange look flashed across Eragon's face.

"Brom. Like he would tell me anything." He scoffed.

"What do you mean?" Arya frowned. Eragon bit his lip, as if he regretted his words.

"It's nothing."

"No, tell me." Arya pressed.

Eragon sighed heavily, his eyes focused on the table as he began to speak again. "Remember when we were at the farm, in my room?" Arya cast her mind back, a faint blush staining her cheeks as she remembered their kiss on Eragon's bed, it seemed like a lifetime ago.

"Yes." She willed her blush to fade, thankful that Eragon didn't seem to have noticed it.

"And the conversation we had before?" Once again Arya sifted through that evening, to the conversation about Brom and Garrow.

"You thought that Brom and Garrow were hiding something big from you?"

Eragon nodded. "I forgot all about it in the days after what happened, and now recently it's been playing on my mind."

"Did you ever speak to Brom about it?"

"No, I've barely seen him. He came to the house a few days ago, all agitated and anxious after the attack at the warehouse, I could barely get a word out of him about anything, he just seemed so…unhinged. I've never seen him like that before."

"He took Garrow's death very hard, and he cares very deeply for you too." Arya knew she wasn't telling Eragon anything new but he needed to hear from someone the things that Brom didn't seem to be able to tell him.

"I know he does, but this secret, I need to know what it is. What if this is all connected?"

Eragon drained the last of his drink, gazing pensively into the bottom of the empty bottle, Arya watched him nervously, his last statement was the verbal voicing of her own thoughts, and now more than ever she needed to speak to Ajihad.

"I'll be right back; I need to make a phone call." Eragon nodded, his surprise at the abrupt change of conversation apparent.

"Right, I'll just get another round."

Arya was already dialling Ajihad's number as she pushed open the door stepping out into the cold night air. The phone rang through three times before Ajihad's voice sounded on the other end.

"It's me." Arya didn't bother with a greeting; she knew Ajihad would recognise her voice.

"Arya, what can I do for you?"

"I need to talk to you about Eragon."

"What about him?"

"I think we've missed something, something big. All of the things that have happened in the last couple of months Eragon seems to be a part of it."

"I don't understand what you mean." Arya ground the heel of her hand against her forehead in frustration as she paced up and down the pavement.

"The attack on the farm, the warehouse. What if Eragon is the connecting factor?" Ajihad was silent on the other end of the line so Arya continued. "He said that Brom has been keeping something from him, a secret he argued about with Garrow the day before he died, something that could put Eragon in danger. Is it this, is this what Galba…"

"Arya." Ajihad's calm tone cut Arya off, forcing her to lapse into silence. "I know you care for Eragon, and you want to help him, but maybe right now that is clouding your rational thought," Arya stopped her pacing mid step, a confused noise bursting from her mouth. "I think maybe you're seeing connections where there are none, yes Eragon has been at both of those events and that is unfortunate, but I don't think he is in any danger. And as for Brom's secret, the only person who can answer anything about that is Brom himself." The finality of Ajihad's last sentence told Arya that the conversation was over.

"I guess."

"Come and speak to me tomorrow" Ajihad soothed. "We'll talk it through I promise."

Arya begrudgingly agreed, shaking off the uneasy feeling that there was something Ajihad wasn't telling her. Saying goodbye, she looked down at her phone for a moment longer before sighing and heading back into the bar.

Unbeknownst to Arya she had not been alone outside. From his place in the shadows Terry had heard every word she had spoken, and as she had disappeared back inside to join Eragon he had pulled his own phone out dialling a number quickly. Durza would want to know about this.

Ajihad's expression was serious as he ended the call to Arya and leant back in his chair. "Well old friend, it seems the past has finally started to catch up with us." His words were directed at Brom, who was sitting on the other side of the desk, having heard the entire exchange courtesy of the speaker phone.

"The past has been snapping at my heels for years." Brom replied.

"I don't like having to lie to her." Ajihad seemingly ignored Brom's comment.

"I know, and usually I would never ask you too, but the situation is more complicated than I had anticipated."

"It would be less complicated if you just told him."

"I'm working up to it." Ajihad frowned at the other man's words. In all the years he had known Brom he had never been the kind of man to 'work up to' anything, he was decisive and determined. Qualities that had made him such an excellent soldier and a leader.

"Is she right? Is Eragon the connection?"

"Perhaps, if not directly then he is certainly important." Brom sighed. "Morzan and Galbatorix know, and I fear they will try and use Eragon to hurt me."

"All the more reason then to tell Eragon, to prepare him for what is to come?" Ajihad urged.

"This news is going to turn his whole world upside down." Brom ran a hand through his hair. "What if he does something, rash, impulsive? He could get himself killed!"

"There is that possibility yes, but best he is armed with all the knowledge that he needs to make that decision for himself."

"I will tell him…when the time is right." Brom said slowly.

"I fear you may be running out of time." The only indication that Ajihad was frustrated was the slight crease between his eyebrows. "Galbatorix moves quickly, who knows what he has planned next."

"He has agreed to come to a meeting, I will bring him by the office tomorrow morning."

"Good." The single word was the only one Galbatorix spoke before he hung up the phone. Pushing himself out of his chair he crossed over the hardwood of his living room to the window. The view of the city, cloaked in darkness stretched out before him. Raising the glass of whiskey to his lips Galbatorix inhaled its scent, the ghost of a smile passing over his lips as he took a small sip of the amber liquid.

"Good." He repeated to the darkness.

The next phase of his plan had begun.

Saphira had always been prone to strong emotions, anyone who knew her could attest to that. Usually her emotions were positive, happiness, excitement, love, all of these she felt deeply and often. But on rarer occasions her emotions were less positive, jealously, anger, rage, she felt them all just as deeply.

Saphira's emotions were closely entwined with Eragon. In the decade he had been in her life he had become more than a friend to her, he was the family she had desperately craved growing up. Saphira's parents hadn't been cruel people, they loved their only daughter in their own way. She was well fed, clothed and provided for, but despite her bubbly easy going personality Saphira had been a lonely child, often having to while away the hours with no one but herself for company.

Meeting Eragon had been a life changing moment for Saphira and he had become like a brother to her, someone to be loved and protected at all costs because he had given her the one gift she could never repay him for. That was why Saphira's emotions became that much stronger whenever Eragon was involved.

This was one of the rare occasions where Saphira was angry, but she didn't know where to direct her anger. She was angry at herself for losing her temper with Eragon, she was angry with Murtagh for betraying the trust that Varden had placed in him, she was angry with Eragon for being so trusting and resolutely sticking by his friend despite her warnings.

Pacing up and down the living room carpet Saphira puffed out angrily, her hands clenching and unclenching repeatedly until her fingers ached from the effort. It had been some hours since she had come out of her room to find Eragon gone, with only a note proclaiming he had gone out with a friend left behind. Saphira had spent her time since then trying to get some work done, but her mind had been too preoccupied with the events of the day before, and indeed the arguments with Eragon that seemed to be happening with alarming regularity. Eventually she hadn't been able to concentrate on work and had taken to pacing round the living room, her mind running over all the possible reasons as to why things seemed to be unravelling so rapidly.

Saphira knew she was partly to blame, she mothered Eragon, but her concern came from a place of affection, even if it manifested itself in ways that were sometimes undesirable. But lately it seemed that Eragon had become more secretive, gone were the times where he would come to her with every little thing that troubled him, more so than he ever would have done with Garrow or Roran, a fact that Saphira was very proud of. Now it seemed that Eragon retreated more and more into his own thoughts, hiding behind a wall whenever Saphira probed too deep. It worried her.

Unable to take the silence in the room anymore Saphira pulled her phone from her pocket and dialled the number she had memorised the day Eragon had given it to her. The dial tone rang several times and Saphira was sure that he wasn't going to pick up.

"Hello?" Eragon's greeting was nearly drowned out by the sound of a multitude of other voices around him, it sounded like he was in a pub.

"Hi, it's me." Saphira's voice came out as a croak, the by-product of not speaking for hours, clearing her throat she carried on. "I hadn't heard from you in a while, I was just wondering when you were coming home."

"Oh yeah, I was gonna call you anyway, I'm gonna be staying out late tonight. I probably won't be back until tomorrow so don't wait up for me." Saphira felt her heart drop at his words.

"Oh, are you sure? Was thinking we could chill out and watch a movie tonight have some takeaway, my treat, you know to make up for earlier."

"That sounds great Saphira, maybe we could do that tomorrow?" The background noise suddenly dropped away, Eragon must have moved outside.

"Yeah, sure." Saphira tried not to let her disappointment colour her voice. "We're ok yeah?"

"Course we are! I'll see you in the morning?"

"Yeah, sure. Have a good night."

As Saphira was about to hang up she heard another voice on the other end of the phone, she couldn't hear exactly what was said to Eragon before he ended the call but she knew one thing, she recognised that voice. Lowering the phone slowly from her ear Saphira sank down onto the sofa.

The voice had been Arya's.

As always let me know what you thought of the chapter in a review. I hope to be able to get the next chapter started this week! Until next time!

Pirate-x-Girls