A/N: This was written for the 'Halloween Haunting Contest' on I hope it's not too bad... :)
Disclaimer: I don't own it. If I did, there wouldn't be Mary-Sues...
Monster, traitor, filth, slave, worthless.
They were just words. Just sounds to make a person's feelings known. They had no real power of their own. But why, when he heard them, did he suddenly feel even more terrible? Why did they keep playing over and over in his head, never-ending, as though they wanted to prove something to him? Why did words alone make his life seem so much darker?
Murtagh flopped down onto his bed, staring unseeingly at the wall. Where had he gone wrong? What had he ever done to deserve his fate?
'You have become your father.' Eragon's voice rang in his ears.
What did the victims of his deadly power do to deserve such a death? Murtagh's fist clenched as anger and sorrow swept through him.
Eragon was wrong, he thought angrily. What does he know? Yet Murtagh couldn't help but feel that Eragon had told the truth. He wasn't a willing slave to Galbatorix, which made an enormous difference to them. He would never serve the cruel king if he had any choice.
An image of a terrified man sprawled at his feet ran through his mind. The memory of the man's pleading eyes, which turned dull and lifeless in an instant. His red sword covered in fresh blood…
Am I really so different? He wondered. After all the sins I have committed in Galbatorix's name, can I truly say that I am not my father?
Anger and confusion washed over him and he stood abruptly, striding over to the window and looking out. The view was not at all soothing, just harsh stone and dying trees, but the fresh air felt nice, and he found himself missing Thorn. The red dragon had been forced into training with Shruikan, and taken away from the castle.
I don't deserve Thorn, Murtagh thought sadly. Thorn had hatched into a world of blood and pain, of imprisonment and punishment, all because of him. Anger flared through him again.
It was Galbatorix's fault, he thought savagely. He knew that there was a possibility of me being a rider as well. All of this is his fault! Now everyone hates me, and I don't blame them. How can I possibly redeem myself for what I've done? What would mother say?
At the thought of his mother, Murtagh's gaze lowered. She would be ashamed of him. She would turn him away, hate him, like everyone else. His beautiful, brave mother…
Murtagh glanced back at the sky. The moon was nearly full in the sky. He remembered times from when he was small, and Selena would sit with him every night, looking at the moon with him. How he missed her…
A fair, small hand rested on the window-ledge, and he leapt back in shock, his hand leaping to the hilt of his sword. What he saw made his heart stop.
There she was, leaning out the window in her favourite blue dress, the breeze playing with her hair. She turned and a gentle, loving smile came to her lovely face. The kind of smile that she always gave him before she tucked him in at night. It was her, Selena.
"I did not mean to frighten you, sweetheart," she said gently.
"M-mother?" he said hesitantly, his voice barely more than a whisper.
"I am here, Murtagh," she replied, still smiling that gentle smile.
"But…" he struggled to find words, confusion overwhelming him. "How?"
She did not reply, just smiled and opened her arms in a familiar gesture. Murtagh took a cautious step forwards, his eyes never leaving her. She just smiled encouragingly, and he took another step. He reached her and hesitantly leaned into her embrace. It had been so long since she had last been near him, bringing the feeling of warmth and comfort that only his mother could bring to him. The feeling of safety that he had so badly missed and longed for as he watched all the other little boys held comfortably by their mothers. The kindness he had so badly wanted as he lay alone at night, fearing his father would be in the mood to put another scar on his back, and nobody would care as he lay bleeding and crying on the floor.
"Look at you, all grown up," she murmured, stroking his hair. He was surprised to realise that he was taller than her by nearly a head, and he drew back from her slightly.
"Such a handsome boy," she said, patting his hair still.
"Mother," he croaked, unable to find his voice, and unsure of what to say.
"I understand, darling. Don't be afraid, I'm here. I've always been here for you," Selena said, a smile still on her lips.
"But why?" he managed to ask.
"Because I love you, Murtagh," was her reply.
"But how? How can you?" he asked, his voice low.
"You are my son. And you've been so brave and good. You've always been good," she said.
"But look at what I've done," he argued.
"You didn't have a choice Murtagh. You've been trying so hard to put things right, to fight against your orders, even though you are forced to obey them. You're nothing like him, Murtagh," Selena said.
How was it she always knew what he was feeling? How was it she loved him, no matter what?
"I missed you, mother," he said finally.
"I know. But I'll never be gone from your life until you choose it. I'll always be with you," she said, kissing his cheek.
"I'll never forget you, mother. I love you," Murtagh said and embraced her again, finally receiving the affection he had been denied for so long.
"And I love you," she smiled, kissing his cheek again. "Don't you listen to what the people say. You didn't have any choice, and though that doesn't make it right, it means that you cannot blame yourself for things beyond your control."
"Thank you," Murtagh murmured.
There was a comfortable silence, but Selena eventually pulled away and gave him another warm smile. "I have to go now, sweetheart. Remember what I said, and the fact that I love you no matter what. She kissed him on the cheek again, looked into his eyes and was suddenly gone, just a rustle of wind through his hair, then silence.
Murtagh glanced out of the window again, wondering if it had all been a dream. The words swum through his head again.
Monster, traitor, filth, slave, worthless.
They were only words, he realised. And no matter what, there would always be someone that loved him.