This is just a tiny, insignificant thing I wrote while incapacitated by the fractures in my spine. Intense pain does wonders for small inspirations.
In any case, I don't own anything to do with the Inheritance Cycle. Christopher Paolini is a literary god among men, and the pleasure of ownership is all his.
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Saida breathed hard as she raced up the steps of the long, winding staircase to one of the higher levels of Farthen Dûr.
"Saida!" came a voice from behind her. "You silly girl, you think you can outrun me forever? You've got nowhere to go." Saida rolled her eyes despite the panic that welled within her chest and pushed herself to run even harder. She came out onto another landing then, and was surprised to see two guards standing on either side of a plain door.
"Saida?" one of them asked, and she came to a shocked halt. "What are you doing up here?" It was Jace, an old friend of her eldest brother's.
"Hugo's after me," Saida panted. Jace exchanged a glance with his partner. "He's right behind me." Jace nodded once.
"Go in this room," he instructed. "You will be safe there." She smiled gratefully and barreled swiftly into the room, closing the door with a snap behind her. She breathed deeply, pressing her forehead against the back of the door and closing her eyes. Jace was a trustworthy man; he'd send the men off with them none the wiser that Saida was actually concealed behind the door.
"Excuse me?" came a firm voice from behind her. She whirled around in surprise, her hand flying to her throat. Beside the low bed stood a man, not much older than herself, stripped to the waist with a towel in his hand. Saida released her breath in relief, sliding to the floor against the door.
"Are you alright?" the man asked, looking concerned. She nodded, smoothing her hair back as she continued to breathe more steadily.
"Sorry," she apologized, looking up at him. "I don't mean to intrude." The man chuckled, running the towel over his dark, wet hair.
"It's quite alright," he told her. "It's nice to have some human company for once. I normally only have the books the dwarves allow me to read." Saida frowned, thinking of Jace and his guard partner.
"You're Murtagh?" she guessed, and he nodded, his expression darkening. "I really am sorry for barging in on you. I know I'm not supposed to be up here, much less visiting you." Murtagh tossed the towel to the bed, turning to face her fully. It took all her willpower not to be distracted by his muscular physique and steady stature. Murtagh was an incredibly handsome man, and she'd intruded on him soon after his bathing.
"Then why are you here?" he asked harshly. "Come to see the son of the traitor, all penned up in his cage?" Saida couldn't help but giggle from her place on the floor.
"Sorry," she said, sobering quickly, seeing his features harden again. "I-I just suppose I'm relieved to be out of sight. That's all. I haven't come to gawk at you, honest." She smiled. "But it is nice to see you in person, after hearing stories of your bravery and prowess in battle." Murtagh relaxed.
"I'm sorry to have been so quick to judge you," he said, walking to her. He held out a hand, which she took. He pulled her to a stand. "I haven't had the best of luck with the people who know who my father is." Saida smiled again.
"My name is Saida," she told him. "And I'm very glad to see that rumors of your traitorous appearance are greatly exaggerated. It's a relief to see that you don't have horns or an extra foot." Murtagh tried to look angry, but failed as his lips formed a small smile in amusement. He turned and sat on the edge of the bed, motioning that she should take the chair at the desk, which she did.
"Why are you here, if not to turn tales about me?" he asked.
"I was…running away, I suppose you could say," Saida replied, her face wrinkling in distaste. "I was being chased by a man who's convinced that I'll be his bride. He and his friends were drunk, and saw me on the streets. I ran, but I'm smaller than they are, and my legs are shorter. Soon enough, they'd have caught me, and who knows what would have happened had the guards not taken pity on me." Murtagh raised an eyebrow, leaning back onto his hands.
"Have you not family that can house and protect you safely?" he wondered, and Saida gave a wry smile.
"Not anymore," she said. "Both my parents, as well as my four older brothers, are dead." Murtagh bowed his head in sympathy.
"I'm sorry to hear that," he told her sincerely. Saida nodded when he looked up at her again. "What happened to them?" She paused, watching him for a moment.
"They were killed in a raid on our village several years ago," she replied. Murtagh stood with his towel, placing it on a rack to let it dry. He turned away from her to pull his shirt from the bedside table. "By the same man who gave you that scar." Murtagh stiffened and turned to face her.
"Your entire family was slaughtered by Morzan?" he whispered, and Saida nodded confirmation. "You must be wanting revenge against him." Saida shrugged.
"Morzan met his match with Brom," she said matter-of-factly. "There is no greater satisfaction to be gained by one such as me than to see the man who destroyed my life destroyed by a great Rider. There's no other way for me to glean my revenge, regardless."
"There are some who would argue that by killing me revenge would be served against Morzan," Murtagh told her, and she nodded.
"I've heard that," she admitted. "But children can't be held accountable for their parents' mistakes. You're innocent of Morzan's crimes." She smiled. "I doubt I'd be able to cause you any harm, anyway, even if I wanted to. You have no reason to worry about me." Murtagh chuckled, pulling his shirt over his head.
"I'm not so sure," he said. "You look pretty capable to me." Saida shook her head, still smiling.
"Are you confined to this room?" she asked, and he nodded, sitting on the bed again. "For how long?"
"Ajihad won't release me unless I submit my mind to examination by the Twins," he replied. "He considers me a threat since they don't know what my true motives are. They don't believe a word that comes out of my mouth." Saida giggled, and he raised an eyebrow, confused.
"Of course they don't believe your words," she said, still giggling. "You're the estranged son of the most deceitful traitor in the history of Alegaesia." He opened his mouth angrily, but she put up a hand. "I'm not saying they're right to continue to distrust you, only that I understand why they're reluctant to believe you when Morzan caused so much destruction." Murtagh stared for a moment, then sighed.
"I suppose you're right," he admitted. "I'd just like to not be Morzan's son. My life would be so much less complicated." Saida gave a dry chuckle.
"It'd probably be less interesting, too," she muttered, and he nodded his reluctant assent. She looked around the sparse room. "You've been here for a little while – what do you do all day?"
"The dwarves allow me to read whatever I like, so they bring me books when food comes up," he told her. "I also try to keep myself fit, despite the small space." Saida nodded absently, looking up to the ceiling.
"I really hope they let you out soon," she said. "It's a shame you need be penned up in this tiny room." She looked over at him. "I don't know how much damage you could cause on your own, anyway." Murtagh raised an eyebrow, and stood, smirking.
"Really?" he said in a low voice, advancing on her. Saida stood from her chair, backing away from him. "You don't think I'm capable of causing damage?" He backed her into the wall, standing inches from her. He was a head taller than she was which forced her to crane her neck far upward in order to look into his dark eyes.
"Th-that's not what I meant," she stammered, nervous at their close proximity. He put a hand on either side of her head, trapping her effectively between his strong arms. "I just meant that the Varden is large, and you're just one person." Murtagh leaned down, placing a small kiss just below her right earlobe, and she shivered.
"Really?" he murmured. "Do you think you could stop me if I wanted to wreak havoc on Tronjheim?" He ran the tip of his nose gently against her jaw, bringing his face up to meet hers. Saida's eyelashes fluttered as he leaned his forehead against hers.
"Probably not," she sighed, and he chuckled darkly, kissing her cheek and pulling away. Her eyes shut for a moment, and when she opened them, he was standing across the room, leaning against the wall with his wiry arms folded across his broad chest. He was smirking knowingly at her as she continued to stand, her back flat against the wall. She glared at him hotly, trying to think straight.
"Do you do this often?" she asked angrily, pushing her hair out of her face. "Playing with girls' minds like that?" Murtagh's smirk fell from his face, and he sighed.
"I'm sorry," he apologized, walking to her again. He stopped several feet short, holding his hands up. "It's been…a very long time since I had such a pretty girl in my presence, and I couldn't help myself." He paused. "You smell so good." Saida bit her lip. "I really am sorry."
"I'll forgive you," she told him. "Under one condition." He nodded, listening carefully. She smiled.
"Kiss me. For real, this time."