A/N Hi everyone! This is my first Inheritance fanfiction so I hope I live up to your expectations. I absolutely love Murtagh and Eragon and I hope you like this fanfiction, I didn't know whether to leave this as a one shot or make it a real story, I'll let you decide, constructive critisim is welcome and I really hope they're not thaaaaaat OC. Enjoy!
Don't flinch.
Don't scream.
Don't move…it'll only make it worse.
Three rules Murtagh followed if he ever wanted to survive to see tomorrow. Cold laughter echoes in the beautiful chamber. Beauty marred by the blood that contrasts with the gold ceiling and the engravings of legends and heroes of the past. Heroes that should have been him. Tiny hooks created of ice and fire dug in his skin, tearing at the cells and splitting them where his veins popped and snapped leaking all over the floor. Crack! The whip snapped in the air, connecting harshly against the raw and red skin of his chest. Why? Why him? Why? Why? Why?
Don't flinch
Don't scream
Don't move
Again and again the whip broke his skin and the magic being uttered from his torturer's skin sending those hooks into his skin. Five minutes…five hours…five days…who knew? Where did the time go? Time seemed irrelevant when you were being tortured it seems. His torturer's face seemed to freeze for a moment before a mockery of a smile spread on his red lips. "Murtagh my dear Rider, do not stare at me with those eyes. This is not my fault. It is all yours." The King of Alageasia, King Galbatorix stared at him with eyes darker than the tunnels of the deep.
I refused to answer. No. Do not speak; he'll only torture you more. Cackling like the madman he was Galbatorix cracked the whip in the air as sudden as a lightning bolt. Perversely pleased as Murtagh broke his first rule. Flinching, he flinched. Arching an eyebrow Galbatorix spoke his horrid spell in the Ancient Language as instead of hooks, full-fledged swords jabbed his sides and while the weapons were fake, the blood that poured from his injured body was all too real. The pain was too much. It was too much for Murtagh to handle. Why? What had he done? A pair of innocent brown eyes flashed in his memory and for that one second his pain seemed to melt away with the heat in that gaze. Galbatroix snarled with hatred. "How dare you think of him while I am here? And this Murtagh is why you deserve your punishment!"
Ah yes, now he remembered. This was his reward; this was the reward a brother gets for loving his family. Unable to help himself Murtagh arched his back as the pain became too unbearable. Trying his best to ignore the cackles he tried to focus on what had happened. It was after the battle, the Battle of the Burning Plains. Where Murtagh had spared his younger brother and decided not to capture him and bring him into this little hell that Galbabtorix had created. A small mercy he knew, for if Murtagh knew anything it was that the King would never give up, even if he had to break him bit by bit. Those innocent eyes swelled in front of him. In that dark iris, Murtagh saw the swirl of innocence, hope, despair and fear. So much fear for someone as little as him. Fear…those brown eyes were scared of him, Murtagh! Honestly, he was a little pleased and yet disgusted at himself. What kind of brother was he? "The kind of brother who never grew up with his other half. You were never loved, always hated. You are nothing Murtagh. Nothing."
Tears dribbled down Murtagh's cheeks. Clearing a pink path and dripping off his jaw. The plopping sound of the water on the ground was the only sound for that short moment. "Nothing…I am nothing." Murtagh moaned.
Damn him. Damn his brother! Eragon- even the very name hurt him- Eragon was the cause of this torture. During the battle, his little brother had convinced him to let him escape, for the sake of the innocents he could save. Innocents. Did Eragon really believe that Murtagh's heart was still pure after everything he had endured? No. Murtagh was selfish, a selfish bastard who did everything for himself and most recently his partner of heart-and-mind Thorn. No, Murtagh spared his little brother for exactly that. Eragon was his brother, his flesh and blood and more importantly, his only true friend.
He could still remember the long voyage that he and Eragon undertook to make it to the Varden. The sparring matches, the long night conversations, the happiness. After Morzan, his father died, happiness came in trickles, barely even existing but during that trip, it came like a flood. Sweeping him in and making him wish beyond wish that the blood running through his veins was not that of a murderer. Damn his father. "Do not think I am finished with you boy." Galbatoirx growled. "You know how I ate to be ignored and that is exactly what you are doing…why don't we see exactly what's going on in that disobedient mind of yours."
No! Murtagh thrashed on the stone slab he was tied on and shut his eyes tight. No, Galbatorix could not know what truly happened during the battle. All the powerful king knew was that Murtagh had failed, not that he had purposefully let the younger rider go. No…Galbatoirx's mind was like a slithering serpent, as black as his soul. Cold and uninviting it slinked towards Murtagh's carefully placed shields. Almost tasting the power that emanated from the walls to his consciousness. Slowly, slowly, slowly, suddenly, the king's mind morphed into a dagger and lunged at the wall. Pain emblazoned in Murtagh's mind, pain so unbearable he couldn't help but break his second rule, he screamed. Screamed louder than his dragon's roar. Screamed at the world and screamed at the injustice of it all. He would not let Galbatoirx into his mind, he won't! "Gahhh!" he yelled hoarsely, propping up his shields in an effort to get rid of the king's presence.
Without even breaking a sweat the King smirked. "You think to get rid of me? Ha!" pushing even harder Murtagh could feel his shields cracking.
He could practically picture the minute fractures that developed into full-fledged cracks as the entire wall exploded into shards of nothingness. No…memories flooded his sight and as if cherry picked, the battle of the Burning Plains came into plain view.
"I had no choice! Galabotorix forced us to swear allegiance to him in the Ancient Language. We cannot disobey him now."
"You betrayed us! I was mourning for you, and you betrayed us!"
"You look like an elf now. Did Islanzadi do that to you?"
"You won't hurt him? You won't warn the Twins?"
"Vel einradhin iet ai Shur'tugal." (Upon my word as a Rider)
"Are you here to kill me?"
"You can try to escape…I could devise a way to neutralize the bonds Galbatoirx has placed you in. Join me Murtagh…Join me….
"Don't…Let me go."
"We were friends once. We fought together. If you do this Murtagh, you'll be lost forever."
"I was ordered to try and capture you and Saphira…I have tried."
"You're doing the right thing."
"Join me…join me…come back to the Varden."
Fury blazed in the eyes of the King. "How dare you? How dare you purposefully disobey me?" Galbatorix's face took on a harsher edge. "You will be severely punished for this. I promise you this Murtagh." With a spin of his heel, he was off.
Tears still dripping off his jaw Murtagh could only stare at the immaculately carved ceiling. Beautiful…just like those brown eyes of his brother. Murtagh sighed. Jealous though he was, Murtagh was still glad that it was he who suffered in the capitol and not his younger brother. Eragon was softer, more emotional, and breakable really. He would never have survived. And…and despite the war, despite them fighting on different sides of the war, Murtagh knew that through it all, he would have continued to fight to keep that light in his brother's eyes.
And that there, that was the real reason that Murtagh spared Eragon. It wasn't to help the Varden, it wasn't to save lives, it wasn't to anger Galbatorix, and it was to preserve that innocence in his brother's eyes. Eragon was never tortured. Eragon was never beaten so severely he could never walk. Eragon never had his own father throw a sword at his back. Eragon never suffered like he did. Nor did the eldest brother want him to. Galbatorix would break Eragon's spirit. He would crush him in his palms and keep the dust in a jar so that he could never escape. Eragon wouldn't be able to handle it, Murtagh knew he wouldn't. Even the new scars on his body, the blood drying up on the floor, the bruises, the cuts, the pain, all of it was worthless if those brown eyes could continue to live in happiness.
During the voyage to the Varden, Eragon introduced Murtagh to a life, albeit a short one, where he wasn't worried that the other was going to back-stab him or kill him in his sleep. Murtagh could count on Eragon having his back and being there for a good laugh. When you're in a war, time seems to last forever or fly away in an instant. Back then, time moved through thick honey and during that time Murtagh found a friend and ironically enough, a kind of brother. Funny how Fate works. No one was going to save him, he knew that. After all, there was only one person on this earth who would have ever come to save him at all and not just a few hours before, he had destroyed any trust they had. Eragon would never come for him now. He was well and truly alone.
I awoke from an unsatisfactory slumber by the sound of rattling. Blinking my eyes drowsily I tried to see what was going on outside the cell I was put in during my sleep. Sleep doused my eyelids like molasses and it was with heroic effort that I forced myself awake in time to see s shadowy figure, presumably a man's, rattling the bars with inhuman strength. Finally, the frustration got to him and he growled what seemed like the Ancient Language. Surprise spread through Murtagh's mind, there were very few magicians allowed in the this part of the palace and even fewer who were allowed contact with him. Who on Alagaesia and beyond would be breaking into his cell? In the middle of the night no less.
The bars on the cell gave way and the figure stepped inside the five by five cell. Trickles of moonlight leaked through the miniscule window and fell upon the stranger's face. Angular face, slightly pointed ears, wavy brown hair that had just the slightest streaks of blonde, Technically, it could have been anyone, or at least any elf, but it was the eyes…those innocent brown orbs that stared into the very depths of his soul sometimes that indicated who the trespasser was. " Eragon?" Murtagh whispered-gasped.
A small grin spread across the youth's face, " The one and only."
Instantly, Murtagh tensed and went on the defensive, what was the blue Dragon Rider doing here? Didn't he know that the chances of him getting caught were a billion to one? Eragon had to get out of here, now! " Eragon you fool, why are you here? I showed you mercy for a reason why in the gods' names are you here? Right in the enemy's home?" Frustration was laced in my voice along with anger and slight happiness.
Eragon was here. Eragon, risking his life, had come to him, Murtagh! Of all the possible outcomes Murtagh had expected tonight, this was not it. And yet, even though inside, he was bursting for joy, he knew that Eragon had to leave, for his benefit and the future of Alagaesia. " I'm here to rescue you." Short and sweet, those words did something in the older brother's heart.
" Eragon…"
" No." he said forcefully, raising a hand. " Don't tell me to leave, I'm here whether you like it or not. Murtagh, you said that you were here against your will, that Galbatorix knew your true name. But true names can change. All a true name is, is the linguistic definition of who you are. But people change." He finished softly.
" Eragon, it's not that easy, people don't change overnight. You know that." Murtagh told him gently.
" Murtagh look at yourself! Galbatorix has tortured you almost to death! Can't you see the bruises? Can't you feel the blood? He's killing you!" Eragon's voice cracked somewhere in the middle and his fist clenched in anger.
Murtagh's expression softened and he tried to get up but found that the pain was almost unbearable when he tried. Grunting he fell back on the bed with a cry of agony. " Murtagh!" Eragon ran up to his brother and placed his hand on his chest.
An expression of concentration held his face and closing his eyes, Eragon summoned the energy to preform the spell. " Waise heill." Energy flowed through Murtagh's skin and he could feel the wounds closing and the bruises fading.
Flooding into his body was what seemed like unlimited energy. Healing him and fixing the broken parts of him. Eragon didn't stop until every wound Murtagh had, even those as small as a paper cut, were fully healed and fixed even as his own energy faded quickly. Slumping dramatically into Murtagh's chest, his elder brother caught him and sat up, cradling Eragon's head. " You shouldn't have done that little brother."
" But that's exactly it Murtagh, you're my brother." Eragon's shallow breaths grazed his bare wrist as Murtagh froze.
Brother. Eragon had accepted him as a brother, despite the harsh words that Murtagh had told him during the battle of the Burning Plains. Despite his betrayal, despite everything that had happened. Eragon had accepted him. Sensing the tension of his brother's body, Eragon stood up, albeit shakily to sit down next to him. " Murtagh, please come back with me. The Varden needs you…I need you." Staring off into the distance Eragon spoke again, " I grew up thinking that my real family was either dead or non-existing. Growing up with my uncle and cousin was nice and I did have a family, but I always wondered why my mother abandoned me. I always wondered if my father missed me or if any of my siblings, if I even had any knew I existed. I'd try to imagine what my mother looked like and what she was like. Now I know that she left me with intention of coming back, coming back with you. She just never had a chance. Morzan killed her before she could show you that not all fathers are cruel."
" At least you had a family who loved you. All I had was a madman betrayer." Murtagh muttered bitterly.
" I know, but…you do have a family, you have me. I'm your brother, your flesh and blood. You can't abandon me now Murtagh, not now. Not after we just found out we had the same mother."
" And same father."
Eragon shook his head. " No. We don't have a father. We are purely Selena's sons. It isn't fair that it was only you who had to deal with the reputation of being Morzan's son. Come back with me Murtagh, we'll make a new life for ourselves, make our own names and not be labelled by who our parents are."
Eragon's words brought something into Murtagh's miserable heart. Selena's sons. They both knew that their mother had loved them dearly before she died. Could what Eragon said be true? Could he really start over? Start over with the Varden? Suddenly his expression darkened.
" I can't go back Eragon, I'm a traitor to the Varden."
Anger clouded the blue Rider's face. Standing up abruptly, he sliced his hand in the air with outrage. " No! I've given my life to the Varden and I've sacrificed so much to win our battles and train for them. Everything Saphira and do is for the Varden, they have no right to not give me this one thing. This one thing I ask for is to be reunited with my brother, they have no right to take that away."
The anger and determined mind set shocked Murtagh. This is what his brother was willing to give up for him? Never in his life had Murtagh met someone who was willing to give it all for him. Actually, he didn't think anyone had ever even loved him besides his mother, and Thorn of course. Thorn. " Wait, Thorn-"
Waving his hand impatiently, Eragon smiled, " Oh don't worry, Saphira's talking with him." Murtagh raised an eyebrow.
" Do I want to eavesdrop?" his old sarcastic self leaking through.
Eragon scrunched up his nose and made a face. " Not if you value your sanity." He looked at Murtagh, Murtagh looked at him and they both started to laugh.
That kind of laughter where you know it really isn't all that funny but you can't help it anyway and you're laughing because you want to and you haven't in such a long time. Yeah, it was that kind of laughter. Striding forward, Eragon walked over and grasped both of Murtagh's calloused hands. " Please brother, come back with me." Naivety, sweetness, sincerity and hope all swirled in those dark eyes of his and suddenly, Murtagh knew there was nothing more that he wanted than to go back with Eragon, wherever there was.
Nodding quickly and surely, he surpressed a smile and Eragon's whoop. Pulling the red Rider forward, Eagon proceeded to run down the deserted corridor to the gigantic window at the end. " Jierda!" the window pane shattered into a million harmless pieces and Eragon jumped. Murtagh gaped in shock. What had just happened? Did Eragon just-A gust of wind almost knocked him off his feet as the sparkling form of Saphira blocked his view. " Eragon!" he yelled and breathed a sigh of relief when the familiar grin from his brother was seen.
The familiar roar of his own scarlet dragon led him to soar through the air as well. Air rushed at him and chilled him half to death before he collided with the brown leather saddle. Clutching at one of Thorn's long scales, Murtagh hauled himself up and sat comfortably in the seat, signaling to Eragon to commence their " daring escape." Grinning at the thought, Murtagh raised his arms in the air and for the first time in a long time, relaxed his thoughts and body and enjoyed the feel of the light wind caressing his face and the listened to the steady beat of Thorn's wings taking him farther and farther away from the place he called hell and closer and closer to place he hoped to soon call home. Eragon turned around with a smile shining with the light of his innocence when Murtagh knew, no matter where he flew home is where the heart it and so far, his heart was flying ahead of him, streaking across the sky on dragon of sapphire.
A/N Well there it is, my two favourite characters-minus Angele of course- and what I hoped was a cute fic. I always wished that Eragon would rescue Murtagh, unfortunately he didn't but it's okay because we always have fanfiction! So tell me what you guys think and if I should continue it, as in you know the Varden's reaction, how they break Galbatroix's binding spell, so basically if I should make this a real story instead of a one shot. The audience decides! Anyway, have a great last day of vacation!