AN: I had a random idea and thought I should put it in a story. Be warned: This story contains Mary Sues in a funny kinda way. It is the INVASION! Yes, this is a humour fic but this chapter won't be as funny 'cause it has to 'set the scene' so if you don't find it particularly funny, the second chapter will be funnier by a heck of a lot!

I'm not insulting other people's stories by using the Sues that regularly appear in them. We all use Mary Sues at some point whether we want to or not and some Mary Sue stories are actually really good, it just depends on the writer.

Disclaimer: (Sniff) I don't own Eragon 'cause Christopher Paolini wouldn't give it to me for my birthday (sniff)!

ChuubChuubChuubChuubChuub

Eragon yawned; it had been a mindlessly boring flight so far and he was on the verge of falling asleep just for the sake of it. It had fallen on him and Saphira to tell the Elves of Hrothgar's death because they could cross the Hadarac desert faster than anyone else in the Varden.

He wished Arya was here. She'd wanted to come but Saphira had growled and given her a really evil look so Arya had stayed behind with Nasuada to help the leader of the Varden recover from seeing Murtagh on Galbatorix' side. The woman was obsessed!

He could imagine her reaction when he eventually told her of his newly realised parentage. He laughed at the thought.

"Nasuada?" Eragon questioned.

Lady Nasuada looked up from scrutinising a piece of lace intensely to the face of the blue rider. "Yes Eragon? Hurry up, spit it out! I'm very busy looking at lace right now."

"You know you can look at lace and talk, right?" Eragon enquired.

Her gaze flickered form one side of the room to the other repeatedly. " Of course… I was just… testing you to see if you'd realise. You have passed the test. Now speak!"

"Very well." He took a deep breath before blurting out. "Murtaghismybrother."

Nasuada's eyebrows rose. "What?"

"Murtagh is my brother."

Nasuada looked blank for a moment before shrieking: "Eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee! Oh my god! Eragon! That's great news! Can you get him to take on a date!"

Eragon was snapped from his surprisingly detailed daydream by a sharp realisation that he was falling. Saphira! He called. Help meee!

What? … Oh! I get it! You fell off! Sorry, I wasn't paying attention. I was daydreaming about… ahem.

I don't care about that! Saphira! Help! You know, if I die, so do you.

I hadn't thought of that. I'm coming Eragon!

Good! I should think so too!

The ground was looming ever closer. Eragon willed Saphira to hurry up, sure that she was taunting him. At that moment, a purple steak of lightening flashed beside him. Time seemed to speed up as he hurtled ever faster to the floor and hit the ground with a sickening crunch.

The last thing he heard was Saphira calling his name franticly as he allowed the darkness to consume him.

ChuubChuubChuubChuubChuub

Relaying his story for Galbatorix for the fiftieth time had really taken it's toll on Murtagh. In fact, by the time he crawled into his bed, he resembled a corpse dragged from its grave through a hedge backwards. He allowed himself a little laugh as he remembered the story Galbatorix had failed to understand forty-nine times and had actually believed on the fiftieth. Man, that guy was thick for someone who had managed to figure out Murtagh and Thorn's true names.

"Say that again." The insane king, Galbatorix drilled his 'loyal' minion, with a rather confused expression on his face.

Murtagh sighed and began the tale again. "Well, your majesty, I was on my way to Tescos in some place with a load of houses, and I met Eragon buying dragon food. He told me he was going on holiday to Hawaii for a while and so would be unable to make it to the war. He sends you his finest regards by the way. But anyway, I told him I was his brother. He replied: Okay, see you next war big bro!"

"You expect me to believe that?"

"Galby, of course you would believe that." After that, Murtagh crossed his fingers behind his back. "It's the truth so you should."

Galby questioned. "Should I?"

"Yes!" Murtagh said firmly.

"Fine. I believe you. You may go now. But next time you meet Eragon in Tescos send him my regards back."

"I thought you hated him."

"Christopher what's-his-face said I had to but it's sooooooooo mean! Barbie would never do that to Eragon! Why did you desert me Barbie? WHY?"

Murtagh left the King to his grief, knowing full well that Barbie was most likely to be in the sewers after Murtagh had flushed it away because he was sick of Galbatorix constantly talking to the thing in the middle of lesson. If he was going to be tortured with boredom, he'd rather do it away from those eerie, unseeing, plastic eyes.

Back in his bedroom, Murtagh shuddered at the thought of 'Barbie' as a purple flash drew his attention to the window. Being to lazy to get up, and not seeing anything scary, Murtagh turned his attention back to the ceiling.

Instead of the ceiling, he clapped eyes on a set of blood red nails.

ChuubChuubChuubChuubChuub

Roran sat on the red-orange soil over the burning plains, gazing up at the stars. Well, that was what he appeared to be doing to the untrained eye but Roran was actually very busy remembering life in the village of Carvahall and trying to imagine finding Katrina. The problem he faced, however, was that he could achieve neither. He found it impossible to remember Carvahall and imagine rescuing Katrina.

Suddenly, yep, you guessed it, a purple streak of lightening struck the ground beside him. He gaped at it, then shrugged and got up to go back into the tent he was supposed to be sleeping in and sharing with Eragon.

But before he could, he felt a tap on his shoulder.

ChuubChuubChuubChuubChuub

AN: See, I told you it would be short. But anyhoo, review and tell me what you think of it so far.

Please review :-P