The Truth About Lies (An Inheritance Cycle Fanfiction)

It was the morning of Roran's departure, and I wished more than anything that I could go into Carvahall with he and Eragon to say my goodbyes, but it was still too dangerous for me to be seen by the soldiers. One night, after Eragon had come home from working in my uncle's forge to repay his debt, he'd told me that the soldiers had blocked off nearly every exit and entrance into town, even some of the deer paths that wound through the woods, and they stopped every passerby. They'd even gone so far as to offer a huge reward for my capture. They made me sound like an outlaw on the run! I didn't even know what I'd done! But since they were using the false name Brom had provided, no one really knew who I was, except for those that Brom had let in on the secret, like my aunt and uncle and Morn the tavern keeper. I was just thankful that I lived in such a tightknit community, where we all looked out for one another against a common enemy.

I gave Roran one last hug and told him I would miss him greatly before he and Eragon headed towards town. Garrow and I stood on the front porch together, waving goodbye and calling out blessings of good luck and fortune. When they finally crept out of sight I headed towards the barn with Garrow. He grabbed a bucket that was full of grooming tools for the horses and we got to work. He took Brugh and I grabbed a brush and started stroking Birka's shiny coat. She whinnied quietly in delight and I patted her strong neck. She really was a beautiful creature, though not half so beautiful as Saphira.

"I would like to thank you, Tabatha," Garrow began quietly, interrupting my quiet thoughts, "for all of the help you've given me. It really has made a tremendous amount of difference having an extra set of hands around the house." I smiled lightly.

"I do what I can," I said. It had become painfully apparent that the soldiers weren't planning on leaving any time soon-not without me, at least-so I was anticipating staying here for a lot longer than I'd originally thought, and I was happy to give Garrow whatever help that I could. He'd been so kind to me, when he didn't have to.

"It's nice to have a woman's touch back in the home," he continued sadly, and I knew that he was remembering his late wife, Marian. I hadn't really known her-she'd died when Eragon and I were young-but I knew from stories about her that she had been kind, and she was lovely, and always willing to help someone in need. And she'd loved Garrow and Roran, and Eragon too, immensely. She'd been like a mother to Eragon after his own had died giving birth to him. "And I'm sure that the boys enjoy the change in cooking. Not so many things burnt anymore." He chuckled a bit but there was still sadness in his eyes. "I think Eragon likes having you around all the time as well," he added quietly. I paused to try and pick out what he meant by that.

"What do you mean?" I finally asked, and Garrow began to laugh to himself.

"I should think it would be quite obvious," he chortled, "especially to you, Tabatha, who notices so much that others do not."

"I'm afraid it is not so this time," I replied, absolutely puzzled.

"Well," Garrow began slowly, "I'm afraid that Eragon is very much in love with you, Tabby."

My eyes grew wide and I spluttered for a moment while I searched for the words to say. "W-what? Th-that can't b-be," I stammered. Garrow only laughed at me again.

"You are both very young," he said in a fatherly sort of voice, "but your times will come. Fate may not have it in her mind to put you two together, but I fear that will not stop Eragon. When the time is right, you will both find that person you are supposed to be with. But I must say, you do fit well together. He tempers you, and you push him outside of his comfort zone. It is a fine match." I stared down at the ground and continued to brush Birka absentmindedly.

"I don't think I'm ready for that yet," I whispered quietly. "I'm not ready to marry anyone, let alone Eragon. He... he's my friend. I don't..."

"It's all right, Tabatha," Garrow said reassuringly. "You are not but fifteen, there's still time to think about it. But will you think about it? I worry for Eragon, and I think you would be good for him. Perhaps if he was more...tempted to stay at home, he wouldn't be running off so much and getting into so much trouble." I thought about that for a moment, but quickly shook the thoughts out of my head. How could Garrow think such a thing? Eragon was my best friend, but everyone always seemed to think we were together. What on earth brought that about? It was certainly starting to grow tiresome, I'll say that much.