Doomed to die alone.

A/N: This fic is a parody. It is meant to be humorous, yet slightly angsty… namely, it is to point out obvious… and not so obvious points hidden in the books Eragon and Eldest… which I'm sure you have all found… but I have added… some… hopefully more interesting tidbits (Which means I have either altered some parts …or… pretty much fabricated everything). Enjoy.

P.S. I am not bashing Eragon… he just… he can be such a hopeless fool at times… often… okay, nearly all the time.

P.P.S. It says that elves are not fecund… then how can they have children? Isn't that contradicting? Bah… I have undermined the flaw within all AryaXx lemons…ahahaha… Does anyone find this a little odd other than me?

Take 1: EragonXArya.

"… How tall the trees, how bright the stars… and how beautiful you are, O Arya Svit-Kona…"

Arya fixed her piercing glare upon Eragon and sighed. " O Eragon Shadeslayer, how limited your methods for catching women, how limited your vocabulary, how young and innocent and aggravating you are…"

Eragon, as Eragon is, paid no heed to her scathing words.

" Arya… I'll do anything to win your hand. I would follow you to the ends of the earth. I would build a palace for you with naught but my bare hands. I would –"

" Eragon!" snapped Arya, brushing his hand away from her lap, quite irritated, she was. " How many times must I explain to you why we cannot be?"

" Do you feel nothing for me?"

She was repulsed by his pathetic behavior. So, at this, she exploded with unfiltered frustration and anger. " I feel nothing for you!" she yelled, slapping him once, twice, three times… then four, and on her final blow, she hit him with such force he was propelled into the Menoa tree and she cursed. Why did this always happen here?

Eragon blinked and sniffled, wiping away the tears that brimmed his eyes with that back of his hand, while pushing himself to his feet. " How can you be so cruel?" he whimpered.

Arya sighed again, with exasperation. " Eragon, how tolerant do you expect me to be when you are constantly trying to woo me always at the same place, same time and same lame lines? I may be immortal, by patience certainly isn't."

He continued to sniffle. This had happened far too many times for her to actually feel pity or guilt for dealing with him so harshly.

" Why? He stammered, having given up on trying to staunch the flow of his childish and unneeded tears.

Arya stared at the stars, praying for patience. With a deep calming breath, she forced herself to look and explain things to the feeble excuse of a rider on which so many important things depended upon.

She lifted up her index finger, " One," she said, in an oddly calm voice devoid of emotion. " I am old enough to be your great grandmother…. No… great- great grandmother," she admonished.

She lifted a second finger, " Two, you are a childish, immature and irritating brat who does not seem to understand a word I say."

Eragon watched her with pleading and unblinking eyes from his spot beside her on the log.

" Three," she said, against, lifting up another finger. " You have a job to do." She continued lifting up her fingers and listing off her points unrelentingly, so Eragon could not protest until her monotonous rant was done. " Four, elves are not fit match for humans… even if you are a rider."

Eragon shifted closer to her as she continued on to her fifth point.

" Five, I warned you many times before. I told you about Linnea, didn't I? Six, I am a princess and a diplomat, which means I am much to busy to lead a love life. Seven, I have a reputation to uphold. Eight elves are not fecund. Nine, I do not, I repeat, not love you, Eragon, for I am still in madly in love with the dead Faolin. And ten –"

" But Arya," he pleaded, " Arwen is an elf, yet she got together with Aragorn! And they were happy! And she is older than him! And her name is like yours, and my name is like his! And you are so much like her, and I am so much like him! Why can't this be? They prove that we are meant for each other!"

Her eyes narrowed to slits. " I am not that weak, pitiable Mary Sue who only knows how to cry as her men rush off to battle. I am not like her, and you are not like him. Aragorn is a king; he is respectable and old enough for her. You are still a child. Besides… we only saw them get together and they didn't even marry, for goodness sake… who knows what their situation is now?" She turned her head to see his reaction and to her surprise and mortification, met the Eragon's lips.

Her eyes widened and she shoved him off the log, whispering, " Mathilnae."

She wrinkled her nose in disgust, spluttering and spitting into the shadows trying to rid her mouth of the taste. As she was so embroiled in her quest to try and rid herself of the flavor, her concentration must have broken because Eragon was suddenly free to move.

He sprang to her side, attempting to help her, but before he got within two meters near her, she hissed, very venomously, " Touch me and die."

He froze, and then recoiled as if burned.

" Finally," she smiled. " We are getting somewhere."