This is my first Inheritance Cycle Fanfic, and I've rather enjoyed writing it, though I love my Mortal Instruments stories like they were my own creations. They are my friends and they fill my dreams with blood, adventure, happiness and love. No matter how low true life takes me, Fanfiction will always brighten my day, turn daunting tasks to pleasure and fun. It is all I need, with of course my best friends, to get me through this world. Though I must admit a good man would help. And a lot of chocolate :D

Disclaimer: I own practically nothing of this story, only the circumstances. :)

Nasuada woke in her cell, held down tightly by her restraints. She could feel the trails that the grubs had made throughout her body and softly she started to cry. After a few minutes her crying intensified and huge fat tears ran down her cheeks, striking the cold stone beneath her. Her hopelessness crashed upon her; she was trapped in the heart of Galbatorix's castle with no chance of rescue from anyone soon. But worst, she knew that she didn't have it in her to fight him for much longer. She would cave to his demands if he produced the grub again, even now she felt the nausea creeping through her system at the mere idea of those foul creatures burrowing in under her flesh again. The thought of any living thing wiggling and crawling about inside her, crawling away at her caused revulsion and terror to seize her body, rocking her between wanting to throw up and claw here skin off till she found the things and wanting to scream till her lungs bled.

The sound of the door swinging open caught her attention then, her sobs catching in her throat as she tried to contain them.

Then to her relief Murtagh stepped through the door instead of Him. She released the tear she'd been trying to contain and smiled weakly at him through her fuzzed up vision.

Murtagh crossed the room and calmly started undoing her restraints. He paused, though, before undoing the arm and head straps. He slowly brought up his hand and trailed his fingers down the side of her face, then tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. Nasuada let out the breath she hadn't known she was holding. Then their eyes locked and her breath caught in her throat.

Murtagh was gazing at her, his eyes full of pain, confusion, but, what threw her the most, the longing and love. He looked at her as though he was a blind man seeing for the first time.

He reached forward and, for one fleeting second, Nasuada thought he was going kiss her. Then she flushed as he finished undoing her restraints. He raised an eyebrow at her.

"Hoping for something else . . . my Lady?"

Her cheeks went crimson and she turned her head to avoid looking at him, shifting her body on the slab as she came free, suddenly conscious of how little of her skin was covered. She tugged at the hem of her shift. If Murtagh noticed he didn't say anything, but he unclasped his cloak and handed it to her, looking at the floor all the while. She gratefully accepted the garment and wrapped it around herself.

Murtagh walked over to the fire place, turning his back to her as he did so. Nasuada was concerned to see his hands curled into fists as his side, as if he was holding himself back from striking her. She stayed sat on the stone alter, unsure of herself around him. There were a few beats of silence before he spoke.

"Are you afraid of me?"

Nasuada thought carefully before answering. "I once was . . . then no, for I trusted you . . . But now, seeing you stood by the fire once more, forces up painful memories."

Murtagh nodded slowly, moving his hands to clasp them behind his back, looking a little more relaxed. "I'm truly sorry for that, I wish I could have taken your place and saved you from the pain."

Nasuada found her courage and stood, wrapping his cloak round her body like a towel, walking over to stand next to him. They both gazed into the grate, each watching their own invisible fire. Then she slowly reached out and slipped her head into his. He jerked at the softness of her skin, the feeling of her fingers lacing through his, but he didn't pull away. Instead he stared down at their intertwined hands, as if he couldn't believe such a thing could happen, that someone could touch him with anything other than violent intension. After a few moments he lifted his gaze to her face and smiled broadly at her. Nasuada felt a smile of her own blossom across her features in return and she moved closer to him, their sides brushing against each other.

"I forgive you . . . I always will."

Murtagh stared at her face, searching for the answer to a question he was too frightened to ask. But Nasuada would not answer him if he didn't have the courage to ask her. He closed his eyes in frustration, understanding, but being unable to overcome the obstacle she set in his way.

Nasuada squeezed his hand, to reassure him, and then sank to the ground, still clutching his hand. She leant against Murtagh's leg and began to sob again. He looked shocked, and then shook himself out of his stupor, dropping her hand, and knelt on the ground in front of her, holding her face between his hands, running his thumb along her cheek bone.

"Don't cry . . . please . . . I can't bear the thought of me being the cause of your pain. I want to protect you . . . keep you safe. Please tell me what's wrong! What can I do . . . what can I do to . . ."

He trailed off and Nasuada knew why. He had gotten carried away whilst trying to stop her crying. She had stopped but he had revealed far more than he'd originally intended to. He stood then and twisted away from her, hiding the raw emotion on his face.

Nasuada sat there in silence, her eyes closed and her arms wrapped around herself, hands clutching his cloak to her slight frame. After a few moments she started to shiver; now lacking his body heat to keep her warm.

Murtagh noticed and, without thought, he acted.

"Brisingr," he muttered, the fire springing to life before them.

Nasuada was both grateful for the fire and fearful of it. With the fire came warmth that was seeping into her, chasing the cold out of her bones. But this particular fire reminded her of the brand of a hot poker across her skin. She shrank away from it slightly, the fear taking over her system.

Murtagh noticed and shame flashed across his handsome features. He turned to the fire again and opened his mouth, ready to extinguish the flames, but Nasuada gently placed her hand on his arm and shook her head.

"It's fine. Just . . . if you would . . . don't face away from me. That makes me think of- of the poker and the pain. Don't turn away from me. Please," Nasuada whispered.

Murtagh nodded, not trusting himself to speak. He sank to the floor beside her, leaning heavily on his left hand, towards her. She gently placed her hand over his, and leaned against him. Murtagh twisted his head and pressed his forehead into her hair.

They stayed there for a while, minutes passing effortlessly as they sat content with each other's company. Eventually Nasuada stirred, shifting out from under him whilst he stared at her in confusion.

"What is it? Is something wrong?"

"Could He walk in on us?" Nasuada despised that she couldn't say his name, but it caught in her throat every time she tried.

Murtagh shook his head. "He is away dealing with the city defences, preparing for the Varden attack. He wants to break into your mind after the Varden have begun attacking. To use you to demoralise them or even stop them."

"I will never give in to him."

Murtagh winced and twined his fingers through hers. "He will force you. You, as you are now, will be destroyed and he will remake you as a weapon at his disposal . . . I could not bear the thought. I have to keep you safe."

"Why?"

Murtagh froze and shook his head, not wanting her to know his emotions.

"Please, Murtagh let me know. Tell me."

Again he just shook his head. Nasuada sighed and pulled her hand free of his, leaning away from him as she did so. She gazed at the flickering flames in the grate, imagining what it would be like just to be as them. To have no emotions or enemies that wish to hurt you and all that you love. But then, as she thought about it in more depth, she realised that the fire had no friends, that everyone was its enemy.

Murtagh watched her carefully, feeling horribly insufficient as she wouldn't look at him.

"Nasuada . . . please." He reached forwards and gently took her chin between his fingers and turned her head to look at him, but her eyes remained averted.

Murtagh sighed and began to stroke the side of her face trying to coax her into looking at him. Nasuada locked eyes with him and Murtagh was caught in her gaze like a rabbit in a light. There was pain in her eyes, which he understood. She had been through so much and then to have him here with her, pushing his feelings on to her- not that she had any clear indication of them.

As she gazed at him he felt his feelings bubble through him, his blood turning hot and his breathing becoming laboured. His eyes fluttered closed, as did Nasuada's, and he softly pressed his lips to hers, one hand going to the back of her neck, holding her sweet lips to his.

After a few seconds of indecision she answered his question, her mouth moving against his insecurely as she had no practice of the art. He paused, stilling the fire that coursed through his veins. He stared at her, to see if he'd pushed her too far. She leaned in this time, slanting her lips across his, causing him to shiver. His arms went round her this time, pulling her form towards him.

She sat, straddling his legs, his arms wrapped tightly around her waist and neck, him groaning and her whimpering into the kiss, neither knowing what happened next nor wanting to stop. Murtagh twisted his fingers into her hair, pulling her head closer, relishing at the feeling of her body against hers.

She jerked beneath him, pushing at him, trying to get free. He let go instantly scooting backwards away from her, breathing hard.

"I'm- I'm sorry . . . please . . . forgive me." He stammered out, raising his hands in an attempt to have her believe him.

Nasuada shook her head. "No . . . it's not that, I wanted it as much as you . . . you didn't hurt me. What I want to know is why? Am I just an eye-candy to you or is there more? You said once that- that He had his whores, his women that he fulfilled his desires with . . . Do you have the same? Are there women, even now, lying in wait for your return, waiting to fulfil your every need?"

Murtagh shook his head then, vigorously, waving his hands in front of him to emphasis his point. "No! I have never touched a woman before in such a way. I would never-"

"Then why do this now, with me?! Why taste me, touch my flesh? Why me?!" She yelled the last part at him, raising her arms in response, Murtagh's cloak slipping from around her body falling to a heap around her knees.

Murtagh couldn't help but gaze at her, taking in her dark skin, drinking in her every curve.

"Because you're beautiful."

She blushed and averted her gaze turning towards the fire. Murtagh smiled as he did so. He reached forward with one hand, slowly so not to startle her and, with one finger, began to trace the patterns that the firelight threw on to her skin. She shivered as his thin, rough hands followed lines only he could see across her collar bone, her shoulders, down her arms, on to the back of her hands. He paused, however, when he came to her legs. She shook her head and drew herself back, and he retreated disappointed but happy in the knowledge that she was in charge, that he wasn't pushing her too far or hurting her.

Nasuada was still shaking her head, and then she spoke, dragging him out of his thoughts. "Not until you tell me why."

Murtagh opened and closed his mouth several times like a fish, struggling to find the right words. "I . . . care greatly for you, my Lady."

Nasuada nodded, smiling softly, though Murtagh found that he couldn't look up at her and away from the fire. "Why me?"

He laughed once. "I know not. I wish I could answer you, as I have been asking myself the same question. Would it not be easier, for both of us, for me to fall for someone within Galbatorix's court? For me to fall for someone he would let me be with? But I haven't . . . I am entranced by you. The strength that you stand against him, the love that you show your people, everything makes me want to be with you even more . . . makes each torture session harder and more painful."

Nasuada nodded then reached out for his hand, pulling his hand back towards her legs and resting it on her lower thigh again. Murtagh swallowed, and gazed into her eyes, seeking permission from her. She nodded once in encouragement and then closed her eyes, dropping her hands away from him. He groaned slightly as he slid his hands- his other hand having joined the discovery on her other leg- up her thighs, his breath catching in his throat as he travelled further up her legs.

He stopped when he reached the hem of her shift, unsure of what to do. She shook her head then, denying him access any further up. He nodded and travelled downwards instead, pressing the pads of his thumbs into her inner thigh, causing her to gasp. He smiled and leaned in lightly brushing his lips along her inner thigh, hearing her suck in breath, causing Murtagh to grin. He trailed his tongue along a vein on her inner thigh. She gasped again and squirmed beneath him, succumbing to his desires and wishes, lying back in the firelight.

He sat up, kneeling over her in front of the fire. She lay, with the shift barely covering her body, painted coffee coloured by the flames flickering in the hearth. He leaned forwards his face inches above hers, his whole body aching to feel her touch all along his skin, for her hands to explore his own body and please him as he would her. She touched his face with her hands and he closed his eyes, letting her have her way.

He rolled on to his side, so she could have free rein, still with his eyes closed. Nasuada slowly untied his shirt and slipped it over his head, discarding it to the side, into the inky blackness that the flames did not reach. He explored his chest, following every curve and dip of his muscular form. He curled into her touching as well.

After what seemed hours to the two lovers they paused, gazing into each other's eyes. Murtagh stroked the side of her face, a smile softly playing across his swollen lips.

"Will you lie with me, for a little while longer?" Nasuada whispered into his ear, holding him close.

Murtagh nodded and pulled her closer, kissing the top of her head. The couple lay bathed in the firelight, stealing the only moments they could for themselves.

There you go, my prettys. I do hope you enjoyed that. Please read my other stuff, my Mortal Instruments stories, but more importantly, please review this!

xox