A/N: Hi everyone! For all my returning readers, thank you for sticking with me! Your reviews, and your readership, mean a lot to me. More than I can say. For my new readers, hello, and I hope you enjoy my newest story! Couple things. The title is Falling In, inspiration taken directly from the song Falling In by Lifehouse. If you haven't heard it, go listen. Beautiful song. The title for this chapter is from the song Broken by Lifehouse.

So. Background info. This story comes in after Inheritance, which is the last book in the Inheritance Cycle, and basically picks up where the book left off…just a bit later. It is an AU, so I reserve the right to play around with stuff if I so desire. Obviously, since this is the first chapter, character development is just beginning. You will find out more about everyone soon, I promise. If this chapter leaves you with questions, it was probably intentional. Anyway, I hope you enjoy it, please keep reading! Love you always!

Cockapoo xxx

PS: The A/Ns will be a lot shorter after this, I promise. I just wanted to say some stuff that I needed to get out first. ON WITH THE STORY.

Chapter 1: Broken

Dim, flickering candlelight lit her room. Ariana stood in front of a large, floor-length mirror, staring at her reflection, watching tears fall from her reddening eyes. She should have expected something like this. But it still hurt. When would he make the announcement? Her knees felt shaky, and Ariana dropped onto her bed, sitting on the very edge.

She had honestly believed he loved her. Her mistake. His face swam to the forefront of her mind – the thin nose, the finely carved mouths, his sandy hair and almond-shaped brown eyes. The strong body, built from hours training to fight. Orrin had stepped into her life and within moments had stolen her heart from her, as easily as he would pluck a flower from its stem.

For months he had courted her, and it never once occurred to her that he wouldn't marry her. Yes, he was King of Surda, but that had never affected her. Ariana didn't believe in giving people additional respect unless they had earned it. Titles meant nothing to her. She sighed, fingering one of the flowers embroidered onto her silk bedspread, watching a tear fall onto one of the pink petals. They had both been broken by the war. But that hadn't been enough to cement their relationship. Not even the icing on the cake. If there even was a metaphorical cake.

Orrin had become a heavy drinker, and though he had been trying to kick the habit for years, she had been the one to help him. But on bad nights, when nightmares of the fear and stress of battles and planning them had gotten to him, Orrin could go through bottles of liquor without even a thought of stopping.

But the pity welling up for him in her breast died when Ariana's mind turned to her own experiences. She had never known either of her parents – she had seen her father several times, but he had only stayed with her for moments, and had never told her his name, saying she would be safer not knowing whose daughter she was. And her abilities had brought her to the attention of people she would gladly have spent her life without ever meeting.

Walking slowly to the mirror, Ariana reached up, fingering her ear. The pointed tip had marked her as different from the very start. A brand of the elvish blood in her – although her other parent was human. She had never figured out which was which – had never actually seen the tips of her father's ears. And didn't recall every knowing her mother.

She took a deep breath, feeling anger begin to course through her, displacing the sadness and shock. Ariana tilted back her head, eyeing her reflection, looking at her vivid coloring, the result – or so she was convinced – of her elfin blood. Her straight, fiery red hair, twisted into an intricate knot on her head, decorated with small pink and white flowers, a few shorter tendrils hanging down to frame her face, barely brushing her narrow chin. Her high cheekbones, her slender eyebrows. But Ariana's favorite features were her eyes, although she knew many other people thought her odd for them. They were large, framed by thick, long lashes, and a stunning midnight blue color.

But Ariana had never really considered her physical defects until now, when she was forced to. The memory, still so fresh, prompted another tear to escape her, and she wiped it away angrily. He wasn't worth her tears.

Of course, they came anyway. And she let it all replay again, seeing it unfold in her mind's eye.

Three hours earlier, standing before the very same mirror, Ariana stepped into her dress, tying at the nape of her neck the two straps that held the dress up. It was a gorgeous gown, a deep sapphire blue in color to "bring out her eyes," as her old nurse had exclaimed excitedly. Looking at herself in the mirror, she had to admit the dress fit perfectly, emphasizing her small waist and giving her the appearance of being taller than she really was. Her shoulders and most of her back were bare, as well as her arms.

She sat, and began doing her hair. An hour later it was up in an elegant twist, and she secured a few flowers in her tresses before her eyes fell upon the shoes left out for her – a delicate make, a shimmering silver, but with a very high heel. Her lip curling, she stepped into them and then opened her door, gliding down the hallway.

The rooms should have all been empty, since the party had begun nearly two hours ago, but as she passed one Ariana heard voices. Frowning, she turned the knob and soundlessly opened the door. And in a moment her world fell apart.

Orrin was bent over a woman, both lying on the bed. He was kissing her fervently, and she was holding him tightly. Ariana sagged against the doorframe, her mind reeling. Neither of them had seen her, but she knew who the woman was. That skin tone was decisive.

Nasuada.

Ariana shut the door silently, stumbling back to her room. Somehow managing to lock the door, she collapsed in a corner, the dress settling softly around her in a cool embrace of thin, slippery satin. She felt shivery, feverish. Unbelieving. Too shocked to cry.

This was to be their engagement party! Ariana held out her hand, studying her bare finger. Tonight he would have slipped an engagement band over her skin, maybe even with a stone set in the metal. Maybe he would go ahead with it anyway. But deep inside, Ariana knew better.

She remembered wondering, when Orrin had first begun to pursue her, why he hadn't married Nasuada. They were both leaders, and understood the burdens that came with their position. They were single, and had been good friends for years – maybe since birth. There were rumors that Nasuada harbored feelings for the vanished Rider, Murtagh, but he hadn't made a single appearance in years, so that shouldn't have been a problem.

But now, Orrin would marry Nasuada. It would be convenient for them both, and maybe he really loved her too.

And then the tears had come, hot liquid streaming down her face, and she had cried into her dress, sobbing her heart out alone in the darkened room. Wishing her father were still alive. Wishing there was someone to hold her, someone to protect her from all the pain and fear and darkness her eighteen years of life had brought her. But she was alone. Broken, and alone.

No one came to knock at her door, to ask why she hadn't come down. The only people who would have were her parents – she didn't know what had happened to her mother, and her father was gone. She hadn't seen him in years. Maybe he was dead, maybe he had found another woman and had other children and forgotten her.

Ariana stood up, her shoes making sharp sounds on the wooden floor as she moved to stand before the mirror, staring at her red eyes and tear-stained face.

Suddenly cheers rose up from below her, and the blood drained from her face. She could see Orrin standing there, Nasuada by his side, being congratulated on his impending wedding, and turned away from the mirror, her breast heaving. The dress felt too insubstantial now, and Ariana felt more exposed and cold than anything. Something drew her eyes to the mirror again, and her lip began to quiver as she studied herself.

She was slender, her body stripped of fat and toughened by strenuous hours of training in both mental and physical exercise, as well as the use of the magic she now had at her fingertips. But that also meant that there were only small curves on her body. Ariana couldn't even hope to compete with Nasuada's curvaceous body, and she knew it. Another problem was her height. Elves were generally tall, but Ariana was small by anyone's standards. She had seen Nasuada enough while she was visiting on tours of duty and the like to know that the top of her head would be below Nasuada's shoulder – and Orrin had sometimes complained about her lack of height too. She had laughed it off earlier, although he thought that if she had a larger stature she would command more respect, but apparently he had meant it. And then there were her freckles. Elves never had freckles! Humans did, though, and they were yet another flaw in her appearance. Another reason for Orrin not to love her as much as she did him, despite all his character flaws. Despite his drinking, and his quick temper.

Ariana turned sideways in the mirror. All her curves were either nonexistent or much smaller than Nasuada's. No wonder Orrin hadn't bothered much with her. He'd probably bounded after Nasuada the moment she batted her eyelashes at him. Ariana sighed, wishing she at least had more of a tan. Her skin looked white when she mentally compared it to Nasuada's rich coloring. And she had often gotten teased for her eyelashes too. Although her hair was a flaming red, her eyelashes were black. The good thing was that they emphasized her eyes more. But it was unnatural, and she knew it. Ariana chewed her lip, raising her chin to make her neck appear longer, wishing she were taller. While her small size and light build were practical for many things, they were little use in attracting a man.

She was beginning to feel stifled, as if her lungs were so far compressed she couldn't draw in any air. Stumbling to the window, she thrust it open, leaning out into the dark night sky, gulping in mouthfuls of the sweet air.

The dark landscape caught her eye, the Beor Mountains in the distance standing proud and tall in the night sky, reaching up to touch the stars. Before she knew it, Ariana was moving. From under the bed she dragged out her saddlebags and threw in some clothes, carefully packed in her weapons, slipped a knife into the jeweled belt at her waist, and dropped the bags out the window. Carefully, tugging the dress up so it pooled over her knees, she slid her legs out the window and then dropped herself from one hand, landing in a crouch on the ground. Escaping from a second-story window, for her, was now child's play. No thought required.

The grass muffled her footsteps as she fled towards the stables, which were not too far away. Eldrvarya was awake, and he swung his head toward her as she reached him, hurriedly feeding him a few sugar cubs, stroking his mane. Ariana swung open the door of his stall, saddling and bridling him quickly. Although she liked to ride bareback, her dress was going to make things more difficult. Ariana stared down at herself, wishing she had thought to change, but at that moment the need to escape had overpowered her every other thought, and changing had seemed a waste of time.

Eldrvarya pawed at the ground, snorting. Ariana patted his neck, hoisting herself up to sit side-saddle. She had named him Eldrvarya because the word meant "burning" in the ancient language, and when he ran he was faster than any steed she had ever ridden or seen. Burning up the ground.

"Hlaupa," she whispered to him. Run.

Bending low over his neck, the wind whipping her face, Ariana tried to blot out thoughts of Orrin from her mind. But he kept working his way back into her thoughts. She remembered the little flowers he would leave her, sweets on her pillow, kisses on her cheek, on the back of her hand. He'd kissed her fully once, forcing his tongue into her mouth without her permission, and Ariana remembered jerking away from him, shocked by his audacity. Orrin had even tried to sneak into her bed. He'd had bruises and a limp for weeks.

Ariana bit her lip, willing herself not to dissolve into tears again. Tears were a weakness she never had time for. They used up too much energy, and took time to recover from. And time was something she had never had. He had probably liked her, she thought bitterly, because she had no father or brother to threaten him if he pushed too far.

Anger flowed through her, the adrenaline of the ride speeding its journey through her veins. For a few minutes she indulged herself, calling him every bad name under the sun that she could think of. But then, this entire mess was as much her fault as his. If there was one thing life had taught her so far, it was that she wasn't cut out for a successful romantic relationship. She was too damaged.

Whenever she closed her eyes, she saw the blood. Felt it on her hands, warm and wet, slippery. Felt the horror, the fear, the sickness that came with the loathing of what she did. Ariana dug her heels lightly into her steed's sides, and blinked back tears as she felt his powerful muscles tense as he ran faster, the landscape around them a blur.

But tonight her mind was intent on hating her. Memories, images flashed before her, forcing her to acknowledge them before they melted away. It began to drizzle, raindrops caressing her wind-whipped cheeks, catching in her hair and eyelashes. Eldrvarya was racing through a flat, wide expanse of grass, and she gave him free rein. Like her, he had been cooped up for too long. They needed to feel the wind at their backs, in their hair, whipping their faces.

That first night…Ariana blinked rapidly, gasping for breath, trying to banish the memory. Her own terror had nearly paralyzed her, and afterwards she had balked at the idea of repeating the task. She still had the scars.

The rain intensified, settling into a heavy downpour, and Ariana let her eyes flutter shut, trusting her horse to keep them on course to nowhere, enjoying the feel of the cool water on her exposed skin. She still sat sidesaddle, and let pride overcome her at having maintained her position for so long at such a speed. She wasn't one of the best horsewomen in the ranks for nothing. Although technically she had never been part of the ranks…

Her familiar poker face began to slide back into place. She could feel it as clearly as a piece of ice being passed languorously over her skin. No more tears. Here was a mask she could hide behind – one she had lived behind for years. Always be in control, she had taught herself. Because no one else gives a damn about you. That motto had slipped recently, and Ariana had learned that she had been right. People come and go. Only you can truly take care of yourself. Body, mind, and heart.

And for that reason, she had taught herself to detach easily. Ariana could separate herself from a problem, distancing herself and pretending it was happening to someone else. It was a cowardly but easy way to deal with life, as opposed to facing her trouble head-on. And, she suspected, it would make getting over Orrin and her heartbreak that much easier. Although by no means easy.

A glimmer of lights ahead distracted her from her thoughts, and Ariana straightened in the saddle, tugging on the rains lightly, waiting for Eldrvarya to slow to a canter and then a lazy walk. A city. She could find an inn to spend the night, which would be useful if the weather deteriorated further. But on the other hand, a young woman traveling alone at night would not be safe, even in an inn, which were always packed with men. And even if she could fight them all off if she had to, stories about her might circulate, and she wasn't sure who would pick up her trail. Many out there probably wanted to see her dead.

They were stationary now, and Ariana put her hand on the saddle, pulling herself towards the right as her body threatened to slide off the wet leather. Sometimes being female really made things difficult. Riding a horse in a dress without having your legs on the same side of said horse was a near impossibility.

That brought her attention back to her dress, and Ariana rubbed her bare shoulders, shivering as drops of rain trailed down her equally bare spine. "Damn it," she muttered in irritation. She couldn't go into an inn, tavern, or anything else dressed like this unless she was begging to be jumped.

A sneeze interrupted her, one that left her head spinning for a few moments after it ended. Time to ride fast and get out of this accursed rain. "Let's go," she decided, patting her horse's neck. He snorted, sneezed, shook his head, and then reared up with a loud whinny before crashing his forelegs into the mud, spraying it everywhere, and breaking into a smooth, gliding gallop.

The rain pelted her with freezing water droplets that were now anything but enjoyable. Ariana sneezed again, aware that she was very probably going to come down with something. But she had been through worse, like the time she'd run through a full-scale riot, complete with magicians randomly casting spells into the crowd, in a thunderstorm, with a dislocated shoulders, a broken clavicle, a long gash on her thigh, and other injuries she hadn't had time to heal before locating her target. And then she'd had to somehow successfully escape, and had managed it. Compared to that, this was a pathetic little sprinkling of water.

Those mountains she had seen from her window seemed much closer now, looming up before her, strong and fierce, their jagged peaks intimidating and close. Something wet and cold splashed onto her foot, and Ariana gripped the reins tightly with her tight hand before bending down to wipe the mud off with her left. Pulling on the reins, she slowed the horse slightly. The last thing she wanted was to be covered in mud.

The small town's torches and lamps shone brighter with proximity, and Ariana steered Eldrvarya away, giving the settlement a wide berth, thankful for the shadows and darkness that cloaked her. As soon as they left the lights behind, without even needing to be prompted, he picked up the pace again. Lulled by the gentle, recurring motion of his gallop, her eyes still tired from the tears they had shed, Ariana lay against his neck and closed her eyes, letting her drowsiness overpower her.

A loud whinny woke her. Ariana jerked upright, snatching the knife from her belt before she was even fully awake. Eldrvarya was staring at her, his equine eyes emanating worry. "What is it?" she whispered, brushing his mind with hers. But, being a horse, all he could send her was fear.

A quick glance around told Ariana that she had been asleep for far too long. Trees surrounded her, and the ground inclined steeply. They were in the Beors. And her senses, amplified beyond those which normal humans had, were picking up on things that had her instincts buzzing. Dropping to the ground, Ariana thanked the gods – if there were any – that it hadn't been raining in the mountains. The ground was firm. If it hadn't been, she would have had to remove her stupid heeled shoes, and that would have resulted in her tripping all over her dress. And if she was right, she didn't have time to change at the moment.

Ariana and her clothes were still sodden, but she paid that no heed. She could smell blood, and hear men's voices shouting up ahead. But they didn't seem to be saying anything. Just yelling. She rolled her eyes. Typical men.

Knife in hand, motioning for Eldrvarya to stay where he was and stay quiet, Ariana took a deep breath and crept up the slope, wincing as branches whipped against her, leaving red lines of blood on her face, neck, shoulders, and arms. She was cutting through the trees, sidling past bushes and brambles, wary of taking the somewhat clearer route for fear of emerging straight into the thick of things. She could handle herself in a fight, but preferred to know what she was getting into.

She froze. A hoarse scream of pain had sounded from in front of her, and then a different man cried out. The air was thick with the smell of blood. No matter how many times it had hit her, it sickened Ariana every time.

Steeling herself, Ariana picked up her pace, cutting quickly through the trees, her heart beginning to pound as she drew closer. But she knew she wasn't close enough – the sounds were still ahead of her, and she hadn't caught a single glimpse of the action. Her heart was in her mouth, her arms tense as she clutched her knife, wishing she'd thought to bring something more effective with her. A sword, a bow, anything. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.

A terrifying roar blasted her eardrums without warning, and Ariana dropped to the ground with a scream, her heart pounding so fast she was positive she was going to either pass out or die. That roar had not been human – and it had been so loud and deep the very ground shook. Dying screams rose up from ahead, but this time Ariana stayed on the ground, panting and petrified. Whatever was before her, she wasn't sure she wanted to face it with nothing but a dagger to protect her.

How long she crouched on the ground, unwilling to move, Ariana wasn't sure. But within minutes the screams had stopped, and the metallic odor of blood was even stronger. Bile rose in her throat, but she forced it down. She could handle this. She'd seen worse. Right?

There was a low moan, a human sound. Nearly a whimper. Her ribs were expanding and contracting so fully that Ariana was convinced they were about to snap. One of the men was still alive. What if the beast didn't finish him off right away? At the very least, she could put him out of his misery. But then she would have to face the creature herself, and she was virtually unarmed…

A pained howl made her raise her head, her brow furrowed. It was definitely not a human sound – but it was full of misery. Very expressive. But why would the beast be howling in misery? In seconds, Ariana made up her mind. Tensing her thighs, she jumped over the bush in her way to get back onto a clearer path, and ran up the steep slope, adjusting the knife in her hand as she sprinted up, cursing the heels that made running difficult.

The trees around her vanished so rapidly that the bright moonlight dazzled her, and Ariana leaped back with a whimper, her hand shading her eyes as they adjusted. And then she moved her hand down.

Ariana, the girl who was rarely scared, the girl who was always in control, who never backed down from a fight or anything else once she was committed, whimpered and took two steps back, trembling. A huge – and she meant huge – red dragon crouched on the ground before her, snarling in her direction, displaying fangs at least as long as her arm. Probably longer. He was about the size of two houses, perhaps even larger, his smoldering eyes burning with rage and sorrow. Steam curled from his nostrils in gray plumes, spiraling up to the starry sky above. His blood-red wings were covering something on the ground.

Her breath hitched. The dragon had to be Thorn – how many dragons of this size and color were there in Alagaesia? Actually, she was pretty sure there were only two dragons currently here: Thorn and Fírnen. Who was green. So if this was Thorn, then where was…

"Murtagh," Ariana breathed, staring at Thorn's wings. The dragon growled, his chest rumbling, and Ariana squeaked, mentally berating herself moments later. She never squeaked. But there was something scary about being growled at by a huge, angry dragon who had strewn the woods with bodies. Which she had just noticed.

Her eyes widened as she took in the sheer number of corpses surrounded her. It looked as if a small battle had occurred here – fifty men, maybe even more, lay there, dead. The stench of death was overwhelming, but she ignored it. Some things you got used to. Others you learned to ignore. This was a bit of both.

His fangs were glistening with blood, but Ariana was more preoccupied with his eyes. He looked ready to murder her too. And when a dragon's blood was up, instinct and anyone with half a brain would tell you to run like hell.

She dropped the knife. The dull thump it made told her she was officially unarmed and insane. "Eka aí fricai," she whispered in the ancient language. I am a friend. He would have no choice but to believe her. Lying in the ancient language was an impossibility. And while he might not consider her a friend, he would have to accept that she meant no harm.

Those red eyes, split by black, vertical pupils, narrowed slightly before he exhaled. Still watching her closely, unblinking.

"Is that Murtagh?" Ariana asked, gesturing slowly towards where Thorn's wings obscured something from view.

The dragon growled again, making the hairs on the back of her neck stand up and her breathing quicken. Two steps back, slowly. No sudden moves. Leave the knife on the ground. Keep eye contact.

"Is he hurt?" Is he alive?

Without warning, Ariana felt a foreign presence smash against her mental walls. After a moment's hesitation, she lowered them, gasping as the dragon's mind brushed against her own. It was so filled with power and energy that she couldn't help feeling insignificant, and suddenly she understood why the Riders had been and were so powerful. Being bonded to a dragon…she couldn't even imagine it. But she now had a taste of just how powerful Thorn and his kind were.

Thorn didn't try to push his way into her memories, for which Ariana was thankful. She felt him ascertaining whether he could trust her or not, and it appeared he decided to.

He's hurt. Thorn's voice, deep and surprisingly musical, sounded in her mind, suffused with sorrow. I can't heal him.

Ariana nodded. She knew, from the moment he had entered her mind, that Thorn had realized she could use magic. So could dragons, but for them it was uncontrollable. The pain was palpable in his voice, and she closed her eyes.

I can try, she offered. If you let me.

For a minute longer Thorn inspected her, and then he lowered his neck, bringing his eyes level with hers. Ariana froze, scarcely breathing, positive he could hear her heart thumping away like a caged bird. If he had changed his mind, and wanted to kill her, she prayed he did it quickly.

But he withdrew his sparkling ruby head, and then lifted his wings, shutting out the moon and stars, created a soft red canopy through which light barely filtered. Ariana stepped closer, trying to get a better look at the figure spread-eagled on the ground, her heart slowing as she took small steps forward. This was far more familiar territory than being threatened by a dragon. Blood, wounds, death…those she could deal with.

And the first thing she noticed was all the blood. Murtagh was covered with it, and Ariana hurried to his side, dropping to her knees, not caring that the grass and blood might stain her dress. After tonight, she planned to never wear it again.

"Barzûl," she muttered, the dwarf curse slipping from her tongue before she could contain it. Thorn gave a surprised snort behind her, but let her be. There was so much damage…

Ariana decided to go over his body and see what the injuries were, and then deal with the most pressing ones first. She only had so much energy in her body to draw on anyway. She started from his feet, since those were closest to her.

Broken ankle. Cut on thigh. Gashes all over abdomen and chest. Broken shoulder. Bruised arms. Three broken fingers. Gash on neck. Bloodied hair – head wound?

Ariana couldn't help noticing that he had a toned, strong body, his skin – or what she could see of it – well tanned. And he was tall, that was obvious. She slipped two fingers under his chin and gently, trying not to injure his head and neck more, turned his face towards her.

He was gorgeous.

No, no, not going to look at him that way. His face seemed unharmed – a small cut on his cheek, but nothing serious.

He was bloody handsome.

Ariana sighed. Getting attached to one man was bad enough. Just because Murtagh was handsome didn't mean he was a good person. She'd heard the rumors. He'd killed Hrothgar, served Galbatorix – he was Morzan's son, for heaven's sake! The son of the foremost of the Forsworn! And he was in love with Nasuada.

Who was with Orrin. Whom she was in love with.

Her head hurt.

And he was hurt.

Ariana shook her head in frustration, trying to clear her mind. Time to heal. "Hang in there, Murtagh," she whispered, reaching for the magic.

A/N: Reviews, please! Tell me what you think! Just an introductory chapter, but I wanted to kind of get moving with the story at the same time. Hope you liked it! I even made it a bit longer than my usual chapters for you all! Proud of my quick update? LOL hope you all enjoyed this! R&R. BALLOONS FOR EVERYONE. :D