A/N: Thank you for reading my very retarded story:D

Okay so I'll admit it's a total cliché, but you need not fear, there will be no MurtaghXOC! In fact, there will be no romance at all. *goes on a high*

Plz shut up about similarities between my OC Alice and Alice Cullen ok?

Summary: Girl from our world gets dragged into Alagaesia and becomes green dragon rider, Murtagh has to train her. Yes all you crazy fangirls, there will be plenty of Murtagh. No romance. Awesome in a clichéd, retarded way. anyhoo...

DISCLAIMER: don't own anything except Alice and...yeah.

Chapter One: Why does this feel so cliché?

Alice stared quite blankly at the computer screen in front of her, wondering why oh why anyone would find the Renaissance interesting enough to force an assignment about it. Why? Why does the world punish me this way? Alice thought as her pointless life carried on in a very insignificant way. (Note: this is before she finds out she's a dragon rider and not a teenage waste of space). Alice Marie Branthorn was eighteen years old, and currently agonising over why she'd chosen SOSE for one of her TEE subjects. Oh screw this s***, she thought to herself as she walked out of the house, ignoring her mother's rather confuzzled expression at her theatrical exit. But Alice couldn't notice anything with her mind drifting in the clouds.

***

Murtagh's eyes flicked open, now staring at the snow white ceiling above his bed, rather than the inside of his eyelids. His back ached, his limbs ached, essentially everything ached. He raised himself soundlessly from the comforts of his bed, slipping on his black tunic as he left his room. The sky was grey and cloudy, overshadowed. The kind of day Murtagh liked, rather than constant blinding sunlight. He passed thousands of rooms the nobles at their doors lowering the volume in their speech as he passed, but he caught their whispers anyway.

"See him, there, the tall guy in black, they say he murdered the dwarf king-"

Murdered is a bit of a strong term, Murtagh thought, I think 'was forced into killing him' is a bit better.

"Yeah, over there, that's the one, Morzan's son, they say Galbatorix took away his free will but I don't believe it-"

"He may be evil, but I think his noble blood makes him better than the farm boy rider-"

A spasm of pain flashed across Murtagh's face. Eragon. His brother, the only person who had accepted him now hated him, and that just sharpened the point of pain's blade, telling Murtagh that he had no-one. Well, no-one except Thorn.

How are you Murtagh?

How the HELL do you think I am, Thorn?

...

Sorry, I shouldn't have gotten so angry. But anger is pretty much the only emotion I can feel these days.

That's okay...The king's looking for you.

Lovely.

You better go and see him. Remember when you suffer, so do I.

Another spasm of pain.

Yeah. Right.

It'll be okay, Murtagh.

No, Thorn, it'll never be okay.

***

Alice could not make her eyes focus. She could distinguish colours and that was about it. As her sight returned to her, she sat up and groaned as her back protested violently.

"Tell me your name"

Her eyes flickered around the room frantically, but she could not find the speaker.

"Alice.", she said, "Alice Branthorn"

"Alice", the speaker repeated.

"Um...yeah. Where are you? "

"Right behind you, of course."

Alice got to her feet and whirled around, before unsuccessfully stifling a small gasp of surprise. The speaker was a tall man who looked about nineteen or twenty, with straight, angular, perfectly balanced features and a spiky disarray of raven hair. The pallor of his face gave him a vague resemblance to Edward Cullen, Alice thought wildly, as his unnaturally vivid electric blues eyes pierced her.

"Tell me your name"

He stayed silent.

"Oh, come on, you opened your self up for that one by asking mine. What's your name?"

"Murtagh", he replied rather hesitantly, looking anxiously into the darkness behind him as though he was doing something he shouldn't.

"Why are you here?", Murtagh asked again.

"I...I don't even know where I am."

"Tell the truth. You cannot lie to me. I'll know if you do." he said in a flat, almost bored tone.

"I am telling the truth."

"My lord?" Murtagh asked, rather stiffly, to the darkness, as though he thought a more colourful description of the darkness would be better than, "my lord". Alice was most scared when the darkness spoke back, and a man, even taller than Murtagh, about thirty years old, stepped out. He had a harsh face and an even harsher voice.

"You have done well Murtagh."

"Whatever. I'm sure finding out the name of a girl who dropped out of the sky is a big step in the progress of humanity."

Alice wasn't sure what had happened, but the next thing she knew, Murtagh was on the floor, his breath coming in strained rasps before his back arched and his mouth released a scream of pain.

"W...what the hell are you doing to him? Stop it, stop it stop it stop it! STOP IT!!!"

"Well, well Murtagh, it looks like you've found a friend", the harsh man rasped, as his servant continued to writhe in pain, before suddenly sighing in relief as his body lay still.

"You should know by now, Murtagh, that I do not take kindly to insolence."

"Yes, my lord.", Murtagh gasped.

"And that you will never let sarcasm colour your voice in my presence again, will you?"

"Yes, of course, my lord." The words were said in the same colourless voice as before.

"Remember, Murtagh, that as you suffer so does your dragon." Murtagh's mouth opened to bravely respond, but his comment would never be heard over Alice's cry.
"DRAGON?! But, that's just...just...unreal, preposterous, can't be happening," she spluttered as Thorn's head poked through the window. Murtagh's face lit up with a wry smile, as he rushed over and embraced the dragon.

Thorn, are you okay?

'Okay' is a very loose term, Murtagh. When your mind cut of from mine you almost gave me a heart attack!

I didn't want you to suffer to.

Alice's words once again broke Murtagh's peace.

"I demand someone tell me what the hell is going on?!"

"Even someone who couldn't tell the difference between a weapon and a tool could answer that one", muttered Murtagh. Unfortunately, Alice heard him.

"I tell you the bloody freaking difference! A weapon is something you kill someone with, and a tool, well...that's something like you!", she then spectacularly spat on the ground.
"I'M SORRY?!!"

"Oh bloody hell, you know what a tool is? Like a S.P.E.D, special education, special people with special needs..." she trailed off at his confuzzled (how I love that word) expression, before continuing on, "JESUS CHRIST WHAT SORT OF WORLD IS IT WHERE PEOPLE DON'T HAVE THE BRAIN POWER TO REALISE HOW MIND NUMBINGLY OBVIOUS IT IS THAT YOU ARE CALLING THEM A FREAKING RETARD?!"

Comprehension dawned on Murtagh's face.

"Hey, I'm not retarded! How dare you, after all I've been through...retarded is the best anyone can come up with..."

Thorn, am I retarded?

No. Or I could be retarded too.

That's great Thorn. Reassures me, puts all my worries to rest.

You're welcome.

"ENOUGH!", a harsh yell came from the throne. In the heat of being called retarded, Murtagh had forgotten the person he hated most.

"Enough of this insolence! Murtagh, you will take this girl to a room, I believe there is a sufficient one next to yours. Go. Leave me in peace!"

Murtagh grabbed Alice's hand and dragged her forcefully from the throne room, She cussed at him, growling under her breath some of the most colourful language in the universe, leaving Murtagh wondering where a lady could've picked up such a vocabulary.

The room was nice and simple, consisting of a black bed, mirror, table and chair.

"Don't you dare leave this room, or I swear to whatever god is listening that you'll suffer."

"Whatever, Monsieur Retard."

Murtagh may not have known the Monsieur bit, but he could recognise retard.

"Thrysta!", he yelled and before she knew it, Alice flew across the room and crashed onto the bed.

"Ow."

"You're lucky that bed's there you brat." Murtagh bit back a more violent statement as he slammed the door theatrically on his way out.

***

A/N: you like? if you do like, REVIEW! if you like, but don't have an account, make one so that you can REVIEW! seriously, or i'll get Monsieur Retard to make you fly violently across rooms.

P.S soz it was a little (loose term) OOC. =) =) =)