Obsessions come in many different shapes and sizes. For example, the dwarves were obsessed by the perfection of rocks, stones and gems, and by upholding their honour and traditions. The elves were obsessed by their leafy homes and the tall trees they admired every day. Eragon, unlike the creatures that haunted the forest and the tunnels of Alaegasia, was obsessed with no material object.

He was obsessed with Arya.

He looked down at the seemingly delicate elf whose head rested on his muscled chest, and his heart seemed ready to burst with the love he felt; it took several deep breaths for the young dragon Rider to calm down and for his heart rate to return to normal. He gazed at her with unbelieving eyes, and wondered yet again what he had done to deserve her. Arya. A princess!

His princess.

With a soft sigh, the elf stirred from her relaxed slumber. She wiped the thin layer of sleep from her delicate lashes and turned to look at Eragon with a sleepy smile upon her beautiful face. "Good morning."

The Rider fought to stop his wide smiled from expanding any further and splitting his handsome face in two. "Good morning."

Arya twisted around to look at him, propping herself up on her elbows. She examined him methodically, as he examined her; it was their way of seeing if the other was content. If something was wrong, they could tell by a mere glance into the other's eyes. Eragon, finding no worry or discomfort in Arya's bright emerald eyes, relaxed against his pillows, but Arya cocked her head to the side. "What are you thinking?'

Eragon nearly laughed; she knew him too well. Hoping to distract her, he said, "I was thinking about Angela, actually." She frowned, confused. "Her predictions for me." Enlightenment brightened he expression, but worry was visible in her eyes.

"You would do well not to dwell on it, love," she told him softly. "What will come will come, and we shall relish the time until that day, however long- or short- it may be."

Eragon nodded. Still, he could not shake off the thoughts that encircled his mind- teasing him, provoking him… Arya sighed, seeing that he would not release the subject so easily. "Tell me what she predicted again."

Without hesitation, Eragon reeled off everything Angela had predicted; a long life, love of a noble woman- they shared a knowing grin at that one-, a betrayal from within his family, and… he stumbled across the last one.

"And never to return to Alaegasia," Arya finished softly. Eragon nodded, his eyes never leaving the floor. The elf sighed. "You need not fear, Eragon. That day may not be for years to pass."

Eragon finally met his lover's eyes, and despair raged in his. "And when it does? I have no doubt that it will. Everything else has." His voice broke.

"If- when it does," she hesitated to finish her sentence, and Eragon looked up at her in expectation. "When it does," she repeated more confidently. "I will stay with you, no matter where you go."

Eragon broke into a wide smile, and Arya hugged him. "Now, what were you really thinking about?" This time, he knew he could not evade her.

"Thinking how lucky I am." His statement made the elf blush, and she avoided his gaze. Nevertheless, a contented smile danced around her pouting scarlet lips. Eragon continued in an undertone. "Thinking that it can't possibly last."

She wasn't meant to catch it, but she did; Arya's head whipped up, her bright eyes examining him. All traces of indecision- no matter how small- had vanished from her eyes. She took the Rider's face in her gentle hands and forced him to look at her. She tried to convey all her love and respect for him into that look, and the result was him gazing back at her with wide eyes. "It will," she murmured. "It will always last."

"Forever?" he asked.

"Forever," she confirmed.

Well, there you go… love it? Hate it? It is only short, yes, and there is no more to come. Sorry. Review, or I shall… um… invoke the wrath of the Ra'zac and blame it on you! That's right, YOU!!