Disclaimer: If I did own Eragon then the book would have probably been a big flop.
Notes:Hey there!After a year-long hiatus, I have finally gotten the will to write a new and hopefully better Eragon fic. You may know of my original penname ace03cute which I turned into 3rddeath, and now in my new account, as rAbiDmutt, I shall be posting my fics. This is about what could have happened if Eragon and Murtagh had met once before, when they were still children.
WALK ME HOME
A sea of brown swam into Roran's blurred vision as he tried to make sense of what was happening. He had been sleeping peacefully on his bed when the air was none-too-gently forced from his lungs by some unknown entity, which was now determinedly rocking him back and forth trying to coax him from his slumber. A closer look told him that the brown bush dancing in front of him was hair, belonging to an intensely enthusiastic Eragon. Right. Today is Eragon's birthday. And he's being way too eager in the morning. So much for sleep then, he thought, stubbornly screwing his eyes shut when he realized that Eragon was shouting at his ear.
"Wake up Roran, you sleepy dork! Have you forgotten what day it is? Roooran! Get out of bed already, we're gonna be late!" Yup. Way too eager indeed.
--
Eragon had never been so excited in his life. He was turning 7 today, and his Uncle Garrow had promised to take him and Roran to the village as a treat. Now finished with the troublesome task of waking his lazy cousin, he was busy bouncing all around the house in a frenzy, trying to finish making bed, getting dressed, and eating breakfast as fast as possible. Garrow, being witness to the tornado that was Eragon, could only shake his head in wonder.
Eragon was all worked up for two main reasons. One is that he never got to take a trip to the village with all the farm chores he had to help with, and the fact that Garrow absolutely forbade him to go on any little adventures on his own. True, he didn't really follow this rule and played in the forest whenever the opportunity presented itself, but he was not foolish enough to test the wrath of his uncle and oddly-protective cousin by venturing as far as the village. He saved that little quest especially for today. He was a man now, at least by his standards, and his world just got a whole lot bigger.
The second reason concerns his loneliness more than his sense of adventure. He had vowed to himself the day before that he would find himself a new friend before his birthday ends, even if he had to tear the village apart to do so. And this is one promise Eragon refused to break. Even though he had met some of the villagers and had befriended them, he had never really had a friend to play with aside from Roran before. Really, playing with Horst or old lady Gertrude or grumpy old Brom would have just been a little too awkward, not to mention too weird, what with the age gap and all. Nope. Today he would make a real friend.
--
His brown eyes twinkled with glee as they set off. It was still early and the sun was low on the horizon, bathing the forest in the warm glow of the sunrise. The cool autumn breeze rustled the few remaining yellowed leaves on the trees and brought with it the unmistakable scent of the season. The surrounding scenery was a glaring testament that it was going to be winter soon, but it was all lost on Eragon. Any other day and he would have taken the time to appreciate every little detail of the path they were walking in, but today he was simply too giddy to have been able to stay still long enough for any kind of observation, let alone a thorough one. He's explored the forest many times before; right now Carvahall was waiting for him.
--
To someone who had never seen so many people before, Carvahall was the best place he had ever been to in his life. The moment they had reached the village, Garrow had immediately started to introduce "little Eragon" to the townsfolk they met along the way. Eragon was quick to give a wide smile and a boisterous "Thank you!" to each of the people who greeted him a happy birthday. It seemed to Eragon that he had already greeted half the population of the town when they have yet to meet anyone of the younger generation. This struck him as odd, but no matter; he would be able to fix that soon enough.
Roran and Eragon followed Garrow to what they eventually realized was the blacksmith, Horst's, house. Garrow stopped right outside door and before knocking, turned to the cousins.
"Now I have business to attend to with Horst, and it would probably take the rest of the day along with buying some food and supplies. You're free to either stay here with me or go explore the village on your own. What do you say?" Garrow asked them.
Roran pondered it over a bit before answering. "Well I'm sure we already know what Eragon's answer is, but could I stay here with you, dad? Honestly I don't wanna spend all day running around after the little gremlin here, and I doubt he wants me to come along and ruin his fun."
Eragon bristled a bit from being called a gremlin, but he decided to shrug it off and instead plead his case to his uncle. Roran was on his side anyway, for now at least. There would be a time to make him pay for that little insult.
"Can I please go alone, uncle? I promise I'd be careful! I wanna make some new friends!" he said, turning his big innocent eyes to the uncle in question. Garrow never had a chance. He sighed.
"All right then. Roran, you stay here with me while Eragon looks around town." He turned to the smaller boy and said with a stern gaze. "You, Eragon, are a man now, as you have led yourself to believe, and I trust you to act like one. I expect you to stay out of any trouble and not bother any of the people in this town. I also expect you to be back here by sunset."
Said "man" just nodded enthusiastically and, with a loud "Bye uncle! Bye Roran!" was off in a run.
--
Eragon had no idea how he was able to do it. Somehow he had managed to stray off the main paths, get out of the boundary of the village, and get utterly lost without him not realizing it until it was too late. It seemed he was more excited than he thought he was and was already greeting his new "friends" in his head even before he actually got to meet them. Snapping out of his birthday-induced trance, he found himself in a desolate forest to which he was woefully unfamiliar with. And it didn't help either that the clearing he was in seemed much too creepy, which was quite strange since it was still broad daylight.
He couldn't believe himself! His first time in Carvahall and he just had to land himself in a forest with no idea where to go. Making a mental note to himself never to daydream ever again, he resisted the urge to panic and opted to stop and think for a moment. And the more he thought about it the more he realized that he couldn't have gotten that far. He just had to go on the direction he most likely came from and he'd eventually be back in the village, right? Well it's worth a try anyway, he thought to himself, dimly turning around full circle to try and regain his sense of direction. Right. That way then.
A few minutes along his chosen path and he realized that it was not leading anywhere near the village. In fact, it seemed he was much further away from the village than he started out to be. The course he took soon found him in a nice little clearing beside a lazily flowing creek. There were a number of white butterflies flitting about the fallen dried leaves, and the trees looked more inviting and "friendlier" than the menacing oaks surrounding him before. This clearing was considerably better than the previous one, but alas, definitely no nearer to his destination.
"I must admit, this is a really beautiful place, but I really have to get back."he said to no one in particular "At this rate I'm not gonna be able to keep my promise."
He was just about to retrace his steps to the "scary meadow" as he had dubbed it, when he heard something causing a racket from further downstream. And, true to the attention span of a seven-year-old, he decided to sate his curiosity and find whatever it was that was making those dull thunking noises.
He didn't have to go far when he came upon a dark-haired boy who looked to be a few years older than him repeatedly attacking a tree trunk with a real but blunt sword. He didn't seem to be angry yet he was attacking the poor tree with such vigor that small pieces of bark were flying off with each swing. The boy was in fact so focused on what he was doing that he didn't notice Eragon, who was watching in what appeared to be slight awe, until he was practically right behind him.
"Hi there! What are you doing?" Eragon perkily asked the boy, who had stopped hacking away at the tree bark to give him a calculating stare. Hazel eyes narrowed in confusion as the dark-haired boy took his time in answering.
He contemplated before raising an eyebrow and answering with a "Well, what does it look like I'm doing?" He certainly didn't expect the answer he got.
"Frankly, you look like you're just killing off this tree here," Eragon answered seriously, the sarcasm of the other's reply lost on his innocent mind.
--
Murtagh was having a strange day. He had traveled with Tornac all the way from Urubáen to this isolated village for some reason, only for Tornac to leave him at the entrance to the village the day they arrived, telling him to meet later. Not preferring to be around other people too much and with nothing better to do, Murtagh went off to the surrounding woods to train with his sword. It didn't take long for him to be interrupted, and now there was this little boy who has seemingly just insulted him.
"I'm practicing my swordsmanship, you idiot!" he said hotly, but not as angry as he thought he would be. "Why the heck would I waste effort and energy to kill off a stupid tree?"
"I don't know, you tell me! I was only being honest!" Eragon said defensively. "And I am not an idiot! My name's Eragon, what's yours?" he finished with a big smile, too excited at the idea of meeting someone to be put down even for a moment. Murtagh looked at him with a blank stare, unsure of how to deal with the little kid.
"My name is Murtagh. What's a little kid like you doing in the forest anyways?"
"Hey! I'm not a kid anymore! I turned seven today, which means I'm a man now. And…well…" he trailed off, suddenly remembering his earlier predicament. "I kinda got lost and now I can't find my way back to the village."
"Oh? And what do you expect me to do about it?"
"Well, I was kinda hoping you'd help me find my way back…Would you Murtagh? Pleeease?"
Murtagh didn't know what he was getting into when he suddenly turned his gaze into a pair of big brown eyes, silently pleading for him to help him. Trained warrior as he was, he had to admit the boy was cute and that there was no saying no to eyes like that. Murtagh found himself wondering for the second time that day what was unusual with this little boy he had just met. He ran pale calloused fingers across dark hair and sighed.
"First of all, Eragon, I want to make it clear that turning seven doesn't mean you're a man yet. Heck I'm ten and I'm not even a man, loathe am I to admit it. You become a man when you turn fifteen, okay? Secondly, sure, I'll take you back to the village, but only if you stop looking at me like that!"
What Eragon did next caught Murtagh by complete surprise. He let out a great whoop of joy, and proceeded to glomp the air out of the older boy, screaming his lungs out.
"Yay! Thanks, Murtagh! You know, you're a lot nicer than my cousin Roran! Even though you did call me an idiot, but now that I think about it Roran's always calling me worse things, the big jerk!"
Murtagh could only smile dazedly at the little boy and pat him on the head awkwardly.
"I'm sure…err… I need to get my stuff now so you have to let go. It's a bit of a long walk to the village."
"'kay."
--
Murtagh led Eragon towards the direction of the village, the smaller boy holding his hand along the way. Needless to say, Murtagh was a bit uncomfortable with this, him being raised by a delinquent old king and having not much experience with intimate contact. With Eragon though, it felt oddly okay, as if he was meant to act like this toward the little boy, to protect him. He didn't notice curious brown eyes watching him in confusion. The younger, not one to stay silent for long, and noticing the other deep in thought, decided to break the silence.
"Hey Tag."
"Hmm?" 'Tag' responded, raising an eyebrow once again at the nickname given to him.
"Do you ever get lonely?"
"And why do you ask that?" His previously raised eyebrow joined its partner down into a small frown
"Well I was watching you think and I thought you looked a bit lonely, and I know coz it's lonely sometimes when the only people around you are your cousin and uncle." Eragon pointed out with a hint of sadness in his voice.
Murtagh was surprised. The little boy was more perceptive than he looked, and Murtagh saw that Eragon has felt the same pain as him. Tornac was the last person he considered family, and he had never really interacted with any other person outside training like he had with Eragon. Any other person and he wouldn't have given them the time of day, but strangely enough, he did with Eragon. They may have different lives and have different circumstances governing their lives, but they both shared the same pain of yearning for parents and siblings to call family. Now feeling more at ease holding the younger one's hand Murtagh heard himself answering before he could think any further.
"You're right Eragon. It does sometimes get lonely since I don't have many friends either" he said with a small smile to the boy, wondering why he was telling this to a seven-year-old kid. "And since my mother and father passed away, the only person I consider family now is my caretaker, Tornac. But I'm also glad that I still have someone to consider family. And you should be too."
Murtagh gave a rare smile to the little boy looking at him with a curious stare. Eragon seemed to think a bit, before nodding his head in answer.
"I guess I never really thought of it that way. You see I never got to know my mom and dad also. Uncle Garrow says that mom gave me to him when I was a baby coz she had too. And I dunno anything about dad. I used to be sad when I thought about it. But I'm happy now!" he smiled widely. "Not only do I have my cousin and uncle, I have a new friend now! I wish I could remember mom's name though. I keep on forgetting it for some reason. I do know it started with an S. Hmmm. Sarah? Nope. Celery? Well that's a stupid name…"
Murtagh could only give a small grin and shake his head as Eragon started blabbering on and on and as he got more and more off-topic. Murtagh soon found out that Eragon tended to be too chatty when given the chance and he didn't know whether to be extremely amused or frustrated. Feeling quite tolerant with the silly little imp a/n: nickname from Counter Clockwise by silver pup, he just settled for listening in relative silence. They spent the rest of their trek in such a manner, and soon after, they were facing the familiar streets of Carvahall.
They stopped right before entering the town itself, both thinking of what to do next. Eragon was torn between sticking to his original plan of making a whole new crowd of friends or just staying with Murtagh until sunset. He had grown quite attached to the older boy and didn't want to leave him just yet. Although Tag was a bit too silent for his liking, but that's not the point.
Murtagh had no idea what to do either. He'd already done what he promised the boy, but he was reluctant in leaving him. What if he got lost again? And from what I've learned from him so far, he just might. Seriously, who leaves a seven-year-old on his own like this? Murtagh haven't realized when he had started to feel just a bit protective of the cute little boy, but as the silence wore on he found himself more and more against the idea of leaving him. Just then, Eragon made his decision and decided to make it known.
"Hey Murtagh!" Eragon grinned widely.
"Hmm?"
"I'm not really expected over there," he pointed towards Horst's house visible from the distance "until sunset. So I'm gonna stay with you for now!" Eragon said this with a voice that left no room for argument and big brown eyes that were just daring Murtagh to disagree. And of course, Murtagh had no choice but to stay with him, not that he minded it much now.
"I don't suppose I have any say in this matter?" he asked, amusement lacing his voice.
"Nope! None at all!" came the happy reply.
"All right. What do you want to do then? We have a few hours still until sunset.
Eragon grinned mischievously when he finally thought of an answer, and seeing that look on his face made Murtagh consider regretting his decision.
"I want you to teach me how to use a sword!"
Yup. He was seriously considering it.
--
A few hours later found both boys leaning on a maple tree in a little clearing just beside the town. Murtagh had showed Eragon the basics of swordsmanship and was pleasantly surprised how easily the younger one was able to follow his instructions. By the end of their training session, Eragon was now moderately proficient in using a sword, no where near fighting level, but better than when Murtagh had first held a sword. Struck by the odd silence that seemed to permeate the clearing, the hazel-eyed boy finally noticed that Eragon had, in fact, fallen asleep, and his head was on the verge of drooping onto Murtagh's shoulder. And it seems the sun was following the sentiment, on the verge of disappearing beneath the horizon as well. Murtagh made a quick decision.
Wincing when he felt the unmistakable plop of drool on his shoulder, Murtagh carried the imp on his back towards the house he had pointed out earlier. He didn't have the heart to wake up the exhausted brown-haired boy but he didn't want him to be scolded for being late either, so he clumsily lifted Eragon's small frame onto his back and set off. When he got to what he correctly assumed to be the blacksmith's house, he was met by Garrow, who looked a bit concerned, and Roran who had his eyes narrowed suspiciously at him.
"What did you do to Eragon you bastard?! Why I oughta…" started off Roran but was immediately cut off by Garrow's voice.
"Be quiet Roran! And what did I say about cursing?"
Roran looked about to protest but changed his mind, but not before throwing one last heated glare at Murtagh. Garrow turned to the dark-haired boy.
"May I ask, young man, why my nephew is currently passed out on your back?" he said neutrally.
"Actually I met Eragon a few hours ago in the village," started Murtagh, wisely choosing not to mention Eragon's being lost in the forest. "He asked me to teach him a few tricks I've learned and apparently he got tired from all the excitement. It was a good thing he was able to tell me where he was expected to be before falling asleep."
"Yes, I suppose so. Eragon's always been an excitable little boy. Thank you for bringing him here. I hope he hasn't been of much trouble to you."
"Oh no, not at all. I don't mind."
Garrow raised an eyebrow as he took Eragon from Murtagh, clearly surprised that Eragon apparently was of "no trouble". Roran, on the other hand, just brooded at Garrow's side, not liking Murtagh one bit. Just then, a dark-haired man dressed in what looked to be warrior's clothing came up to them and addressed Murtagh.
"Here you are. I was looking all over for you. Come quick, we have to be back as soon as possible." Tornac turned towards Garrow "Murtagh and I have to take our leave sir. I hope he hasn't been of any trouble to you." And with that, he led the hazel-eyed boy towards the gates.
Just before they got out of earshot, Murtagh heard Garrow speak.
"Eragon sure had an eventful birthday. Look at him, he's exhausted. Sleeping like that, he looks just like his mother Selena."
Murtagh stiffened in his gait. Selena? It can't be. Could it?
--
Author's notes: And here it is, my attempted comeback into the fanfiction industry. I hope this fic was enjoyable. Please read, review, and tell me whether I deserve to come back into the fanfiction world.