This takes place right outside the palace in Urû'baen, when Nasuada and Murtagh say their final goodbyes.

…

There were many things Nasuada still did not know. As leader of the Varden, she had tried to make the wisest decisions she possibly could, but she had not seen all there was to see in the world. She did not know how to speak in the ancient language, did not know exactly where men went when they died. She didn't know what it was like to ride a dragon, or what it meant to truly be alone.

But she did know what goodbye felt like.

Murtagh grasped her hands in his. "Nasuada," he said quietly. "You know what we have to do. Thorn and I can't stay here in Urû'baen. There are many people here who wish us dead, many who would very much like to exact their revenge on both us and anyone close to Thorn and me."

Nasuada nodded silently. She felt tears cutting tracts down her face, but she made no effort to brush them away. She knew he was right; Galbatorix was dead, but the dragon and his Rider still had enemies in the capital. Both the former king's rivals and his allies might target the pair. "But Murtagh," she protested, feeling almost childish, "I could protect you. The Nighthawks, I'm sure would—"

She stopped abruptly as Murtagh shook his head sadly. "How many Nighthawks do you think would be willing to guard a rogue Rider and his dragon? Besides, I don't worry for us. I'm sure Thorn and I could take a few assassins easily. I worry for you, Nasuada. People will be less likely to support you and the Varden in the coming years if they know of your link to me.

"And even if it was safe for you, there are too many bad memories in the capital for us to remain here. It would be best for everyone if we just…disappeared."

Nasuada tried to protest, but she knew Murtagh was right. She was going to need all the support she could get from the people of Alagaësia in the next few years. And it would have been selfish for her to ask him and Thorn to stay, after all they had endured in the dreaded city. "Where will you go?" she asked.

"Probably north," Murtagh answered. "Far away from Urû'baen."

Her heart fell. The tears streamed down her cheeks faster, and she surprised herself when a hiccupping sob escaped her lips.

Murtagh frowned and tipped her chin up so he could see her face. "Don't cry," he whispered. "Please." He brushed his lips against hers softly, just the ghost of a kiss. "I'll never forget you Nasuada."

"Or I you, Murtagh." For a moment, everything was perfect and she could almost forget why they were talking to each other like this.

Then, the moment shattered, Murtagh went to Thorn and unbuckled his saddlebags from the dragon. He presented them to Nasuada, saying, "These are all the Eldunarí Galbatorix places in my possession. I clearly will not need them anymore, and I would like to give them to you. Maybe Umaroth and his dragons can help heal their minds."

She took the saddlebags from him and set them on the cobblestones. When she turned back to Murtagh, the Rider was already climbing onto Thorn, his back to her. "Murtagh!" she shouted. Nasuada stumbled forward a few steps, her hand outstretched. The dragon rider looked up at her suddenly. "Stay with me…" she whispered. Her arm fell to her side.

Murtagh gave her a small, sad smile. "I love you, Nasuada. I hope you never forget that."

Thorn extended his wings and turned his massive head toward Nasuada. His red eye glinted as he said, 'Take care, Lady Nightstalker. Se ono waise ilia.'

Then he beat his wings once, twice and leapt into the air, Murtagh on his back. Nasuada watched them go, her last words lingering on her lips. "I love you too, Murtagh," she whispered. But her words were stolen away by the wind, and she was helpless to do anything but stand there and watch the only man she'd every love fly away on the back of the red dragon.

Ancient Language:

Se ono waise ilia. – May you be happy.

I've edited this a few times, but if you find any mistakes in the text, feel free to tell me in a comment. Reviews are greatly appreciated.