Inheritance Cycle One Shots (edited and revised)

An Interesting Fight

A/N: This occurs during the beginning of Inheritance.

An Interesting Fight

Arya stood back as Eragon conferred with Glaedr. While Eragon's eyes were closed, she took the opportunity to study him. His cclothes were laced with sweat, the liquid darkening patches of cloth. Perspiration plastered fabric to Eragon's skin and belied a lean, athletic form. His chest rose and fell with speed, hinting at his exhaustion, and he stood with his legs apart, Brisingr's tip buried in the ground.

Eragon reopened his eyes and Arya observed the renewed calm within them. The same battle fire burned within his gaze, but the blaze had shrunk from a wild inferno to a deadly, collected flame. A sense of intrigue built within Arya, and she promptly directed her gaze elsewhere. "Ready?" She asked.

"Ready." Eragon confirmed, taking up his starting position even as Arya moved into hers.

Arya inhaled and shifted her weight, preparing. It had been a long time since Eragon had foiled her in an attack, and her number of victories led her to believe that beating him once more wouldn't be much of a challenge. She did, however, ensure she remained well aware of his abilities as a swordsman.

She and Eragon stood motionless, both waiting for the other to attack first. A moment later, Eragon inched a few feet forward and allowed a sly, handsome smile to lift his lips. The entreaty in his eyes fueled the heated intrigue Arya had previously felt. She skillfully sliced off the emotion, narrowing her eyes and keeping her expression earnestly blank. Abruptly, she sprung forward, charging Eragon with the intent of tackling him to the ground. Her muscles contracted and released, and she reveled in the physical exhilaration of battle. Eragon leapt backward, moving to the right. Arya stopped short, wary, and remained as motionless as a cornered rodent. She brought her sword in front of her body and moved it in a half circle before her, staring at Eragon. Glaedr's observation of the battle fueled her desire to produce a good performance. Arya then sought of a way to gain the upper hand. She was aware of the hold she had on Eragon with her physique and let loose a soft, sensual growl. She checked his form for indications of the success of her distraction and found him only slightly perturbed. Still, it provided her with more of an advantage than before and she began to descend upon Eragon, swinging her weapon in heavy, looping blows. Eragon blocked the strikes with his shield and moved back, allowing Arya to attack without him providing any opposition. Arya's confidence grew, but so did a sort of dissatisfaction inside her. What exactly she was unsatisfied about, she was still unsure of, but she began to realize it was along the lines of Eragon and his strength and capability in battle…and as a person. The emotion increased her incentive to beat him, to test him in a way, and she added to the force of her attack.

Suddenly, as she sliced towards Eragon in a vicious, curving slash, he swiveled to the right, sidestepping her blade and maneuvering in such a way that Arya turned her head to keep him within her sight. Belatedly, she realized her mistake, and looked directly into the sun. She squinted at the harsh light. Instantaneously, Brisingr slipped under her left arm and jabbed at her ribs. The dull blade edge clanged off her bone. Surprised and in pain, Arya cried out, falling back a few steps. She stood and pressed her arm against her side while waiting for the ache to abate, and she stared at Eragon. The defeat had hurt her pride, as was expected, but another emotion overrode her damaged ego- Eragon's triumph had roused her in a way that she was unaccustomed to. She almost felt approving at his show of dominance, accepting it as a challenge to insert her own. Arya lowered her arm, and she and Eragon moved until they were set to begin again. They began to circle, and Arya made an open display of regarding Eragon with more confidence, attempting to inspire him to attack less carefully.

The combat lasted for only a couple of seconds, but it was long enough that they were able to exchange a torrent of blows, bodies contorting in inhuman grace and speed. Much to her irritation, Eragon was able to slip past Arya's guard with a bout of skillful footwork. He slashed her across the chest in a particularly painful blow and drove her to her knees. She remained in that position for a moment, waiting out the agony, until Glaedr ordered Again. Her strength had diminished since her last two losses, but she rose without complaint.

The lack of an evident winner surfaced in the next duel, Arya being able to meet and anticipate all of Eragon's steps, and Eragon hers. By the end of it, Arya was so exhausted that she stood with her sword buried in the ground, using the weapon as support while sweat cascaded down her face. Eragon did the same.

Again. Glaedr intoned, and though exhaustion hampered their performance, she and Eragon moved together in crude harmony. The intense combat stoked an invisible fire burning between the two of them, and the test of arms grew to a trial of Eragon's character. Arya wished him to prove himself. She wished to see if he had the strength in his limbs and intelligence in mind to match her. She did not entirely comprehend what she was searching for, or why, but she knew that she must. She felt compelled.

Arya hacked and stabbed at Eragon with fevered ferocity, and the sparring served as release from the restrained demeanor she constantly strove to keep. They fought to a standstill once more and ended up standing with their faces mere inches apart. Their swords were locked at the hilts, and they pushed at each other with the last reserves of their strength.

Their struggling continued without success until finally, Eragon raised his head and met Arya's eyes. His gaze froze something deep within her core and seemed to burn straight through her. In a low, fierce voice, Eragon said, "I…see…you."

The words flooded through Arya, and a strong passion leaped through her chest and burned strength into her limbs. She caught herself an instant later and pushed the flurry of emotion to the back of her mind.

Duty. She intoned within the recesses of her brain. Duty before desire.