A/N: This is my first fanfiction ever! So please be nice! I'm sorry if its kinda draggy, but it IS a fluff! So let me know if this is good or not, yes? Thank you!

Eragon reached the edge of the plain, near the eastern shores of Leona Lake, panting heavily out of fear, scanning the surroundings. Twilight was shining into the lake, reflecting glimmers of evening light in every direction. It was a stunning sight, yet it only struck up more fear in Eragon. The surface of the water was calm, undisturbed. The thought of Arya, tortured and broken descending into the dark depths of the lake chilled Eragon. Without further thought, he waded into the lake.

"Arya! Arya!" he turned in all different directions, trying to discern any disturbances in the water. There was none. Eragon's breathing started being labored.

Saphira snorted and shuffled her wings.

Don't be silly. Get onto my back, I have much better vision and can swim much faster than you can.Eragon scrambled onto the saddle with all possible haste. Ready? Take a deep breath. And calm yourself, you'd require less air in your lungs if so.

Eragon took a few deep breaths to calm himself. I'm ready, now hurry, she doesn't have much time! Saphira grunted, then slid gently under the water. The water still hit Eragon like a wall of ice, freezing the air in his lungs. The water was clear, yet the lake was several miles large and so deep that he could not see the bed of the lake. Eragon began to panic. Saphira! We need to go deeper!Faster!

Calm yourself, Eragon! Think back to your training! How can you locate her without relying on your sight? Arya was dropped from such a height. She could be anywhere in this lake.Eragon quieted, and began to expand his mind, touching all living things within the lake. To his inner eye, he could see pinpricks of light where schools of fish swam on the shallower areas, yet, as he got deeper, there were dark caves that were devoid of large life forms, but… There!Eragon sent Saphira a mental picture of the direction. Saphira twisted and dove, flapping her wings rapidly. The pressure increased, and Eragon felt as if water was pressing against all sides of his body. Yet, he endured, and pressed himself against Saphira, willing her to go faster. His mind screamed Arya's name with each beat of his heart.

Hold on, Arya, I'm coming.

He could feel his lungs crying for new air, and even Saphira was starting to feel short of breath. Eragon summoned forth light, using his mind to invoke the word. The lake was illuminated with a blue light from within. On the bed of the lake,lying on a bed of aquatic plants near a dark cavern, lay Arya, deathly pale, unconscious, with many wounds, some fresh, some old, interlaced each other. A rage like no other filled Eragon. Saphira could not approach due to the tangle of water weeds, so Eragon swam towards her, pumping his limbs with a furious energy. Eragon retrieved her, and swam back to Saphira, who took off for the surface with incredible speed. Eragon's lungs were straining for air. As he pondered Arya's limp form, he formulated a plan.

Eragon, no! You'll kill yourself! And if Arya lives, she would not be pleased.

Saphira, I will save her, even if it is at the expense of my life. She can be angry at me taking advantage of her later. I would be glad to face her wrath if she survives.Then Eragon used his mouth to pass the air in his lungs to Arya. His lungs devoid of air, a grey circle began to form at the periphery of his vision. They were approaching the surface, yet the grey mist overwhelmed him.

You fool! Saphira chided, but Eragon could not hear her. Just as Eragon was about to sink into unconsciousness, Saphira broke through the surface of the water. Eragon gasped, dragging fresh air into his lungs. Yet, Arya had not reacted, and remained limp like a muscle without a bone, swaying in the saddle. Eragon hugged her, trying his best to shield her from the biting wind.

"Arya, Arya!" Arya did not stir. Saphira landed on a patch of grass. Eragon slid out of the saddle, and lifted Arya gently onto the ground. He stared at her limp form, not knowing how to save Arya.

Don't you have to pump the water out of her lungs first? Eragon realized the import of Saphira's words.

It would be improper touch her in such an…inappropriate place…if only I could pump the water out of her without touching...An idea suddenly struck Eragon, and he reached for the reserves of energy in him, summoning forth the magic.

"Adurna risa!" Water spewed from Arya's mouth, Eragon turned Arya on her side lest the water flowed back into her nose. Eragon felt for a pulse, yet, he could not feel any movement of her blood.

Her heart is not beating… Eragonwent cold at the thought. He could feel Saphira saying something, but it was as if she was shouting from a far distance; he was so distressed that he had closed his mind to her.

"No, NO!" Eragon yelled and started to compress her chest with his hands. If her heart would not beat on its own, he would help her. He leant on his hands, and, with a regular rhythm, continued to pump her heart. With each beat, his heart contracted on its own.

"Breathe, Arya, breathe. No, don't leave me, don't go! Arya, Arya! Stay with me!" Eragon continually searched for a pulse, but was constantly disappointed. He did not give up, however, but labored persistently to get Arya alive again. Tears were falling from his eyes earnestly now. He could not bear the thought of losing Arya forever.

"Blast it, Arya, don't die!" With that, he gave one furious, desperate punch to her chest, then collapsed and sobbed with the futility of his efforts. He took her in his arms, sobbing uncontrollably into her limp form. "For Firnen, for your mother, for everyone who loves you…For me. Please."

"Eragon…?" The faint whisper nearly floated away with the wind, but Eragon's sensitive hearing barely heard it. Eragon looked up, and for a long moment, his wet brown eyes met her confused green ones. Then he smiled, and tears of relief flowed freely down his face, and he hugged her tightly. "Thank goodness, thank goodness…"

Just then, a shadow in the form of Firnen flitted across Eragon and Arya. Eragon winced as Firnen roared with rage, covered his ears and looked up, caught himself and released Arya, laying her gently back onto the soft grass. He repositioned himself so that his back was to Arya and Firnen, embarrassed by his outward display of emotion. He was wiping the last remnants of his tears when Firnen landed and, whimpering, gently sniffed Arya. He nudged Arya gently with his snout. in a show of affection. Arya returned the gesture, patting Firnen on his snout. Eragon smiled at the sight.

Walking to Saphira, Eragon loosened the saddle bags and retrieved the cloak given to him by Nasuada. Saphira stared at him with her sapphire blue eyes, and he could do nothing else but smile wryly in response.

I'm sorry…I just need to be alone for awhileSaphira blinked once slowly, sending what comfort she could through their connection.

Oh, little one…Go, do what you need to. I can fend for myself.Eragon hugged her tightly, rubbing his face gently on her snout.

Then he took the cloak back to where Arya was, as both green dragon and rider scrutinized his every movement, feeling self conscious and as if he had revealed too much of himself. Without a word, he avoided all eye contact with Arya and Firnen, and draped the cloak gently around Arya.

"I will search for firewood and hunt for dinner, if you do not mind, Arya Svit-Kona." Eragon sought shelter from formality. He gestured to their barren surroundings. "I doubt that there will be enough vegetation here as sustenance for both of us."

"I would appreciate your efforts, Eragon-elda."

He turned and ran off towards the Spine in search for firewood and animals, giving Arya and Firnen privacy as he struggled to keep his tumultuous emotions in check, using all the techniques of breathing that Oromis had taught him.

He located four pheasants nearby, but, remembering his last hunt, decided to stalk them instead of mindlessly slaughtering them. It took his mind off the recent events that broken his peace of mind. He wondered if he had offended Arya by being so forward once again. Yet, he couldn't help that pure explosion of emotion when he believed that she had died. Regardless, I should apologize for my actions.He found the pheasants, killed them using one of the twelve words of death, and with his hunting knife, skinned and cleaned them, burying the offal deep within the ground. He looked up from his deep contemplation, and was surprised to find that it would be dark soon. He wiped his hands on the ground, cleaning them, and set out to gather firewood.

When he had gathered enough firewood, and when he was fairly convinced that he could restrain himself from doing anything else that would endanger his friendship with Arya, he ran back to the campsite. When he walked into the campsite, he took a deep breath and prepared to face Arya's wrath.

A/N: So there you are! How did I do? *Nervous laughter* I'm pleased with how Arya has turned out, but I feel that Eragon is a little OOC, no? I shall go back to the books and study his mannerisms! So please R&R! Good or bad, reviews are greatly appreciated! I've actually written the next chapter, but I'm still in the process of editing- I'm trying to give Eragon a little more depth, you know. So please give me... at least 5 reviews and I'll upload the next chapter? Thank you!