Roses are red, Violets are blue

M

Warnings: Slash, Incest, lemons, dark themes, spoilers for anyone who has not read Eragon or Eldest.

Disclaimer: I do not own Eragon, it belongs to Christopher Paolini.

Chapter one; battle's aftermath

Eragon swayed, slamming into the ground, his vision becoming unclear. He could make out Murtagh, is newly known elder brother, standing above him. Thorn, Murtagh's dragon, stood only a few feet away, gazing with smoldering ruby eyes, and Saphira was behind him, her own eyes frozen over, as she snarled at Thorn. Eragon's lips made to say Murtagh's name, but only the word formed, no sound escaped from his shredded throat. He'd screamed, falling forty free-fall feet, with almost no impact softeners. His back was broken, and he could feel every nerve in his scar, as it desecrated the feeling along his skin. His temperature was rising, and he couldn't make out his brother's words anymore, his hearing long since gone, now his vision. Senseless, he lay there, almost forgotten, or so it seemed. Murtagh had set Thorn on Saphira, and was now kneeling next to Eragon, murmuring words, to the almost unconcious boy, who couldn't see or hear him.

"Slytha... Little brother, Eragon." The magic invaded Eragon's dead senses, and his mind drifted, despite his efforts, wasted, as he went slack and a restless sleep overtook him. He made small noises, dreaming uneasily, as Murtagh looked at his wounds. Saphira had come closer, still battling Thorn, in a way, and kept an eye on Murtagh, as the boy tended to the other's wounds.

"Waíse heill!" He exclaimed softly, in his little brother's ear. Saphira stopped fighting, feeling some of her pains ebb, as her rider relaxed, completely defenseless. Murtagh was startled, something rare to do, when Saphira's voice shuffled into his mind. What do you plan to do to him, red rider? She asked, worriedly, and defensively. Murtagh remained silent, only for a breath, tapping his chin. His eyes felt themselves being tugged down to Eragon's lithe form, and he smiled. Nothing... Saphira. There was indignation at him using her name, but Murtagh didn't really care, as the blue dragon didn't really mind, and Thorn was lost. He growled. What is this? What is happening all of a sudden? Galbatorix will be angry that you let him go! Murtagh sighed. I know. But... He trailed his gaze along Eragon's face. I can't take Eragon to that man... He'll hurt him. Thorn snorted. No shit. Saphira hissed at the red dragon, who hissed back, offended. You'd give him up to that monster? Saphira asked, her eyes full of disbelief. Thorn looked away, and snorted. Damn it! He looked back at Murtagh, And you won't change your mind? The rider shook his head. Thorn sighed, Fine. Good-bye Saphira... I'm glad I got to meet you, I might never see you again... Saphira tossed her head, annoyed. He won't kill you, drama queen. He needs you. Thorn nodded, But his torture methods... Make you wish you were dead... I find it hard to believe, Galbatorix is human, he has become like his dragon; Shruikan, full of emptiness and hatred. That man, is far too gone to be saved. There was regret in his voice, as he looked away, into the ash filled wind. His searching gaze traced the plains, covered in pulsing hot-spots, and charred remains. Saphira followed his example, and tore her gaze away, almost immediately, saddened. Murtagh didn't bother looking up, refusing to let his eyes leave Eragon, who lay, still asleep.

Natsuada stormed from her tent, her eyes vicious. Some of the warriors around her edged away inconspicuously, Arya's lips tightened, but she stayed put. Natsuada walked right up to her, and her voice, when she spoke, was as hard as polished dragon scales.

"Where are they." Arya flinched a little, but hid it well.

Stony faced, "I don't know." She told Natsuada, who swore in return.

"Dammit, where the hell are they?!" Her face turned up to the sky, as if she'd see them riding swiftly back, victorious, or at least alive. But there was no way to find them, Eragon could not be scried or magically located by any other means. He was invisible to them, or rather, they were blind to him. The dark skinned woman turned on her heel, stopped by Arya's voice;

"We're doing everything we can to find them." Natsuada stopped, breathing heavily, but evenly.

"If you haven't found them yet, you aren't trying hard enough." Then she walked away, stalking through the camp, causing many to jump out of her battle armored way. Arya's face went hard, her eyes followed the dark skinned woman, blazing with anger. Wasn't trying hard enough? Eragon was impossible to find! Did Natsuada know how many charms and spells were on that boy?! No. She didn't, and Arya found her anger dissipating, knowing the woman was only concerned for their safety. Taking in a deep breath, Arya turned to consult with the mages, who were useless, worn out from their battle.

Eragon's eyes opened, slowly to block out the wind. His stirring was caught by his dragon though, and Eragon found the rushing feeling, which flattened his clothes, familiar. Hello, little one. Eragon groaned, and tried to sit up, quickly finding he couldn't. He frowned, and panicked. What is this? Why can't I sit up? Saphira! The dragon chuckled, calming the rider somewhat. Murtagh strapped you down, so you wouldn't fall off when I started flying. Eragon sat back, well that's a relief... He thought. How considerate of Murtagh to- Wait. Murtagh?! Memories invaded his mind, forcing themselves back into his head, like needles on fire. The blue rider cried out in pain. Saphira instantly used some of her magic, to ease the pain, and Eragon's head throbbed, but there wasn't anymore sharp pain. He sighed. Murtagh... What happened Saphira? The dragon remained silent, flying at a swift and steady pace. It seemed she wouldn't answer, which unsettled Eragon. Little one, Murtagh is in hiding. He's burnt off the immediate seals, but he cannot stop the ancient language oath. He will wait as long as he can. This confused Eragon, but Saphira refused to say more on the subject, until he was well enough to ride normally again. Sulking, the blue rider slipped into a phase of unrealistic memory recall.

Little one! Wake please! Little one! Saphira's agonized cries woke him instantly, and pain exploded in his shoulder and arm. He knew, also, instinctively, that it wasn't his pain, but Saphira's. Saphira! You're hurt! Her response darkened his mood. Don't worry about me, try to make a shield. He did so, and the onslaught of arrows ended. Saphira landed gracefully, and the pair found themselves surrounded by soldiers. Of the Varden. Enraged, the bonds on Eragon snapped, and the blue-eyed teen slid from Saphira's back. His scowling face had the guards palling instantly, and backing away with jerky frightened moves. Saphira caught the profile of his face, and winced.

Natsuada came running, infurated she called her guards off. She turned to the scowling teen, and found herself taken aback at his face.

"Eragon, I apologize about them..." Eragon waved her off, and was at the other end of the courtyard in an instant. His mood seemed to be summoning lightning, but Saphira knew it was only an illusion, he wasn't strong enough to summon lightning from pure will... Yet. She turned to Natsuada, and bowed her head with a sigh. I am sorry. He is upset, he will apologize later. Natsuada shook her head.

"No, please. Don't make him, the battle took a lot out of him, he is tired." Saphira nodded. She would make him apologize anyway. Then she took off, in search of her young rider. She found him packing, which confused her.

"I'm going to find Murtagh." Saphira's eyes widened. NO. Eragon looked at her, his hands paused. You are not strong enough, Eragon's face contorted into aggravation.

"Not strong enough?! I'm never going to be strong enough, for what ever is dished out for me to accomplish! Never, never, ever!" Saphira sighed. It was true. She looked at Eragon. I know a way to free him from his bonds, with Galbatorix. Eragon froze.

Murtagh? Um, if I may be so bold as to ask... Murtagh waited. WHAT THE HELL ARE WE DOING HERE!? Murtagh sighed. Thorn, I'm waiting. He'll show, I know him. Thorn snorted. Eragon Shadeslayer, yes. He'll show, of course, because he still feels ties to the brother he thinks abandoned him. Yeah. He's coming to see you. On civil terms. Oh yeah. Totally. Murtagh scowled. You don't have to be so negative! He shouted at Thorn. Why do you only ever see the worst of things? Why must you always put down everything I do!? Why do you have to be so... So... Argumentative!? Thorn looked away. He didn't answer, but not for the reason Murtagh thought. Murtagh, I don't want him to hurt you. I want you to think through every action you go through with, I want you to stay alive. You matter to me. I know he wouldn't, attack you... Willingly, under his own influence. However... Murtagh didn't want to hear the 'however', so he severed the connection, and felt hurt radiating from Thorn, who lumbered off to sulk. Murtagh sighed, running a hand through his messy hair, which Eragon loved so much. He didn't know why, he hated that he couldn't comb down his hair, and have it stay combed. He was worried, about if Eragon was coming to kill him, or not. He hoped not. He really hoped not. Sighing, Murtagh lit a fire, and curled up next to it, his worry making him sick.

"Murtagh," Said boy shot up, drawing his stolen sword. It pressed against a familiar neck, and Murtagh lowered it, loosing himself inside blue innocent orbs. "Hey..." Eragon whispered, as he sat down next to his older brother. Murtagh moved over, so Eragon could have some of the fire's heat. They both sighed, Saphira and Thorn watching each other warily.

Finally Murtagh spoke, "Eragon, why did you come?" Eragon hesitated, struggling to find how to tell his brother, exactly why he'd...

"I don't know." Murtagh lowered his head, resting it on his drawn up knees. "I was so angry, that, the first person I thought of, was you." Murtagh blinked, his eyes widening. He rolled his head, glancing over at his younger brother. "I wanted to talk, to you."

"Not to Arya, or Natsuada? Or Saphira?" Eragon shook his head.

"Arya and Natsuada... Are friends. But... They're not as close to me, as you are." Murtagh's heart leaped, and he didn't know why. "And Saphira... You know she knows, just about everything I know, and usually more." Murtagh felt his lips quirk up, he did know. Thorn was the same way, he assumed all dragons were like that, with their riders. Meanwhile, Eragon was fighting a small, internal, skirmish. He wanted to mention it to Murtagh, then again... What if the other refused...? But, what reason did he have to refuse? He didn't. Gathering his courage, Eragon spoke;

"Saphira says, she can free you from your slavery to Galbatorix."