(Set after the end of Eldest. Murtagh returns from leaving Eragon in the Burning plains.)
Murtagh looked out towards the east, feeling the cool crisp wind on his sweaty face. Sighing, he closed his eyes.
Thorn. Did I hurt him? asked a distraught Murtagh.
I'm sorry Murtagh, but I think you did hurt him, replied Thorn, solemnly.
Do you think I hurt him bad?
Yes. Very.
I thought I would be happy about that you know. That bastard. He gets everything. And he still has the guts to call me evil. Dammit it Thorn! Why do I feel so guilty!
Because you love him Murtagh. He shares the base of all your hate. Morzon. You know better than I do about your relief. That you can now share it with someone. It's not that it won't hurt, Murtagh. But that burden is too much for you to carry on your shoulders alone.
Murtagh slowly nodded, reflecting on Thorn's gems of wisdom. Thorn had only been alive for a few months, yet he was the wiser than any human scholar that ever lived.
Thinking about what was to come, Murtagh asked Thorn: Are you ready?
No, but neither are you. There's no avoiding it, Murtagh. We saved the last hope of the Varden and we must pay the price.
With a sick feeling in his gut, Murtagh turned towards Galbatorix's castle, where he knew Galbatorix was waiting, along with untold tortures and punishment. Looking down, Murtagh shuffled through the unbreakable front gates, and continued into the castle.
~*~
"Well, well, well. Look who you came without," said Galbatorix smiling as Murtagh walked into the throne room. Murtagh stopped in front of the elaborate jeweled stairs. He looked at the designs of the gold for a second before slowly kneeling on his leg and knee. He bowed his head, waiting for the pain to begin. He tried not to run away when he heard Galbatorix stepping down slowly. But he couldn't help the shaking. He could never help the shaking.
"You poor thing. Look what that battle did to you. How about you go and take a bath before we talk about what happened. I promise I'm not angry," he said sweetly. His voice was like slick oil, ready to burst into flames.
"I'd rather get this over with," braved Murtagh, looked Galbatorix in the eye with as much hate and defiance as could. Galbatorix's smiled faded, causing Murtagh to pale to a chalky white color. In his head, he cursed himself as much as possible.
Galbatorix grabbed Murtagh's hair, scratching open the skin of his scalp in the process. "What was that?" asked Galbatorix, holding Murtagh's face close to his. Murtagh tried his best to not look in his eyes, but he was forced to. The moment he glimpsed into those dark red eyes, he saw the insanity, despair, and rage, almost like a shade's. Except a shade's eye cannot freeze your heart the way Galbatorix's did. Murtagh forgot to even breathe while he was staring at those two red pits of hell. When he was about to suffocate, Galbatorix got up and walked out of the throne room, dragging Murtagh from behind.
Murtagh, still recovering from the after-affects of Galbatorix's stare, didn't notice where he was. But he looked around and knew he was under the castle, in the slave bathing caves. He was wrong, and he was about to find out how wrong.
Gravel crunched behind him. He whirled around; wounds from the previous fight aching slightly. He squinted in the dim light and couldn't see Galbatorix smiling only inches away from his face. Galbatorix grabbed his hair and dragged him towards what Murtagh had thought was a lake.
"Do you see this 'water'?" asked Galbatorix. "What color does it look like to you?"
Murtagh would have answered "clear" if he wasn't busy eating the gravel that Galbatorix was burying his face in. The gravel scratched at his mouth and cut his lips in several places but Murtagh didn't notice. If he looked at the water closely, he could see that it was slightly yellow-green.
"It's really cool. It'll freshen you up. I'm sure you're just dying to wash the grime and blood off yourself. Am I right? Am I right?" asked Galbatorix, smiling again. "Here, let your nose have a feel real quick."
Hearing the gleefulness of Galbatorix's voice caused a sharp twist of fear in Murtagh's gut. He desperately tried to wriggle out of the Crazy Kings grasp but to no avail. He could only watch as his nose was forced towards the mysterious liquid. As soon as the tip of his nose was submerged in the liquid, Murtagh knew what it was. Sulfuric Acid. (Why Galbatorix has a lake of this, I don't know. Also, the acid must not be that strong because it doesn't melt him that much.)
Before his face was pushed closer into the acid, Murtagh let out a shriek. (A manly shriek that is.) Galbatorix let go and watched as Murtagh crawled backwards, got up, and ran blindly in the darkening light. He suddenly slammed into a hard rock wall. Feeling for an exit, Murtagh moved his hands along the wall until he felt hard, cold armor. Before his reflexes could kick in, Murtagh was dragged kicking and screaming by Galbatorix's gauntleted hands.
"You're right Murtagh. Beginning with your face isn't right. First you should wash your hands."
"No! NO! Let go of me! I hate you! I hate you!" screamed Murtagh, rather pathetically.
"And I really don't care," replied Galbatorix. "Relax, the acid's not that strong, it'll only melt through some of your flesh. That's how we can assure all the grime is gone."
"Damn you! I hope you die the most painful and lonely—" Before Murtagh could finish, Galbatorix dipped Murtagh's right arm up till the elbow in the pool that Murtagh could not see. Galbatorix lit a small werelight so that Murtagh could see the steam rising from his arm. But Murtagh was too busy screaming in agony to see his flesh evaporating.
Of all the times Galbatorix had tortured him, this was by far the worst. He'd been beaten, burned, broken and cut, but he had never been melted.
"Please… stop…" pleaded Murtagh. Galbatorix simply continued examining the still steaming arm of Murtagh. Murtagh's arm was shaking so much that it looked like it was vibrating. Galbatorix blew on it a little, causing Murtagh clench his teeth in pain.
I can take this… tried Murtagh desperately. But both he and Galbatorix knew that if he had to dip his arm once more in that acid, Murtagh would be willing to swear any oath that Galbatorix asks of him. No, I can't think like that! What doesn't kill me can only make me stronger, thought Murtagh to himself. He was concentrating so hard on those words that he didn't notice Galbatorix's presence in his mind.
"Is that so?" asked Galbatorix, not at all amused that Murtagh thought he could resist. "How about this." Before he made a move to do anything Murtagh yanked his hand out of Galbatorix's loosening grip. He was about to run when Galbatorix's gauntleted hand gripped his neck and lifted him off the ground. Murtagh gagged as he tried to breathe. Galbatorix held him over the lake of acid and dropped him.
~*~
Murtagh felt the damp before he saw it. Moaning quietly, he opened his eyes. His eyes were crusted and red from dryness. He felt a salty sting all over his arms and up to his knees. As he became more awake the small sting rose to a raw and sharp pain of having no skin. If it weren't so cold he wouldn't have been able to stand the pain. He dared to look at his bare arm. It wasn't skinless, but some of it was missing in places. Dried blood was caked all over his arms and legs, but he knew that the bleeding stopped by the store of magic Galbatorix saved for him. The dark told him that he was in a prisoners cell. He should be close enough to Thorn to sense him.
Thorn… THORN! Please, just answer me… screamed Murtagh, through his mind. The small action left him exhausted. He felt a small pressure in the back of his conscience and he knew it was Thorn. When he tried to access his mind, Thorn refused to let him in. That was the only hint he needed. Instead of battering his dragon's mind to help share the pain, he slipped back into sleep.
~*~
He awoke again, a few hours later, because of a presence banging on his mind. All his wounds were healed and he felt as if he just awoke from a long, good sleep. He turned his head and caught the eye of his dragon, looking at him with the concerned look of a parent, rather than a friend. He reached his hand out and stroked the wing membrane that shrouded him.
Thorn… Are you alright?
Of course. Once again we are healed and we stand before the one who enslaves us, ready to submit ourselves even further.
"Thorn, remove your wing if he is awake," said a deep, evil voice that could only belong to one person. Murtagh cautiously got up, looking down on the tiles of the floor.
"I made a mistake last time, when I made you swear your oath. I won't make it again. Now tell me, Murtagh, Thorn, will you swear to capture Eragon and Saphira no matter what the cost unless it be your lives or your capture? Or shall we have another round in the yellow lake?" asked Galbatorix, in the same monotone voice he used earlier.
Murtagh's mind was in chaos. He was digging even deeper into his grave. He didn't want to suffer that much ever again. He especially didn't want Thorn to go through the same thing again. But how low must he sink before Galbatorix would let him go? Memories of his punishments ran through his head. I've already dug my grave deep enough that I can't get out… There is no reason that I should suffer more only to reach the same outcome, he thought.
He slowly looked up at his master's face with eyes filled with hopelessness and despair. He recited, in the ancient language: "I swear I will capture Eragon and Saphira no matter what the cost unless it be my life or my capture." Thorn followed suit, projecting his thoughts out towards Galbatorix.
Smiling, Galbatorix stood from his throne. He walked up to Murtagh, towering more than a head over him. (He was taller than Murtagh is what I'm saying.) "Wonderful news isn't? You should be happy, you saved yourself a lot of pain." With that, he walked away, leaving Murtagh and Thorn to drown in their guilt and despair.
I suffered so much for you, Eragon. How will you make it up to me? By renouncing our blood, or by saving me? thought Murtagh, bitterly, as he and Thorn left the Throne room. Or… by killing me?
Authors Note: This is a one-shot unless I suddenly decide otherwise. If you read this, you MUST review. If you don't, how will I know you read it?