Hey there, Sokka's Fan-Lawyer here!
Yep…to those that look at this and think it looks awfully familiar, that's because I decided to retool this character one shot. It started with me finishing rereading Eldest and now in possession of all four books of the Inheritance Cycle (No, unlike everyone and their grandmothers, I have not read book 4 yet…I stubbornly going to finish Brisingr first) and going through some old files and I found this Murtagh tribute I wrote all those years ago.
To celebrate the fourth book coming out (and the finishing of my reread of Eldest, which had inspired me to write this originally), I decided to retool it a bit. Update the grammar, fix some spelling mistakes and lyric mistakes (stupid metrolyric), and even added some more angst! However, truthfully, I almost wish I could just rewrite the thing from scratch, but I realized that if I did, a lot of the original emotion behind it would have been lost, so I just settled for making some adjustments.
Truth be told, I always felt bad for Murtagh, and he quickly became my favorite character of the Cycle, even back in Eragon, and once I found out about his being forced on the side of evil, I couldn't help but try and justify it or at least show it from his point of view. I'd like to think there's redemption in the cards for him at the conclusion of the series, but somehow I doubt it... I don't have the heart to look up spoilers; I'll just read the book like everyone else…Besides, I'm glad I decided to do this without knowing the ending; it only makes my hope for the character and the uncertain future more authentic.
I hope that for people reading it for the first time, it's good (I like to think I've improved since 2008, but still) and for those of you nice enough to look it up a second time, that it is even better. Thank you
Disclaimer: I don't own the song Numb or Eragon…only two copies of the books.
Numb
Murtagh slammed the door as he entered his bedroom for the first time in weeks. After what had happened at the Burning Plains, he really needed to be alone…alone with a hefty drink would have been preferable, but alone none the less.
He sighed, taking in the unfamiliar surroundings of the room that Galbatorix had given him once he had sworn allegiance to him. The room was luxurious, but to Murtagh, it seemed more like a prison then the cell they had kept him in beforehand.
I'm tired of being what you want me to be
Feeling so faithless, lost under the surface
Don't know what you're expecting of me
Put under the pressure of walking in your shoes
Every step that I take is another mistake to you
Murtagh couldn't help but be reminded of the room he had when he had lived in Uru'baen after his father had died. Back then, he had no idea why Galbatorix had been so kind as to let him live there, but now, he figured that it was for the same reason he was here now: to be used as his tool. He had wanted Murtagh to be his little lackey as his father before had been, but once he had seen through the king, he got out of there as soon as the opportunity arose.
But here he was, his short-lived freedom taken away by the power of the ancient language, unwillingly betraying all the friends he had gained in that time…betraying his younger brother.
When he had seen Eragon at the Burning Plains, he would never forget the look of shock and betrayal on his friend's face, even after he had explained what had happened to him! Why couldn't the boy understand that he didn't do this carelessly? Did he think that Galbatorix had just asked nicely for his allegiance? They had tortured him! They broke into his mind, his sanctuary, and ripped away not only his secrets, but his very soul as well. How could Eragon expect him to resist all that? How could he dare put so much pressure on just one person? And then, of all things, expect Murtagh to just allow the boy to kill him? How could he expect that Murtagh would choose to die for the Varden? The bastards kept him locked up 99 percent of the time they had been there! They didn't deserve his loyalty, not then, and certainly not now.
Before, he had just been the son of one of the Forsworn, then he had been an outlaw. Now, he was a dragon rider, walking in his father's footsteps, coming almost poetically full circle….
I've become so numb, I can't feel you there
I've become so tired, so much more aware
I'm becoming this, all I want to do
Is be more like me and less like you
Murtagh felt Thorn try to make contact through their mental link, but he ignored it. He hadn't wanted any of this: becoming a dragon rider, being involved with the Varden, none of it!
Can't you see that you're smothering me
Holding too tightly, afraid to lose control
Cause everything that you that you thought I would be
Has fallen apart right in front of you
Every step I take is another mistake to you
And every second I wait is more than I can take
Everyone seemed to want his loyalty! Galbatorix, the Varden, Eragon, all of them! Couldn't they see that they were crushing him, tearing his spirit in too many directions; all because they were afraid to lose their hold on him….
He had to end up hurting one side eventually: this time, it was Eragon and the Varden who ended up being the ones who lost him. They had thought that he wouldn't be, couldn't be turned to Galbatorix…but they had been wrong.
He wanted to scream in frustration as he imagined his friends accusing and hurt stares. Picking up a glass, he hurled it the wall; the sound of the shattering glass did nothing to relieve the emotions surging within him. How could they judge him? The longer this went on, the more he thought back, the less he could stand. The torture, the pain, the betrayal…he could practically feel madness enveloping him…it had kept him company during those cold months of mind ripping and torture, perhaps even more so than Thorn did. And yet, just like everyone else, madness wanted more of him than he was willing to give…and he feared he couldn't last much longer.
He couldn't take it! It seemed that no matter what he did, where he went, someone hated him for it!
The Rider approached his bed and threw himself in it, hoping against hope that rest would give him a break from the turmoil inside. Yet the floodgates of his mind refused to shut…
I've become so numb, I can't feel you there
I've become so tired, so much more aware
I'm becoming this, all I want to do
Is be more like me, and less like you
"You've become your father." Eragon had said during their confrontation; and not only him, but everyone he had met somehow compared him to the bastard! Would he never be free of him, even when he was dead and Murtagh wasn't? He had wanted nothing more than to be free from that part of his family all his life! What he wouldn't give, to be born again, without his scar, without his father's curse, to have a shot of living life without all of this prescribed shit!
But now, it seemed that he was more like Morzan than ever, despite his best efforts….
And I know I may end up failing too, but I know
You were just like me with someone disappointed in you
Murtagh stared at the gedwey ignasia on his right hand, the mark that was evidence to his new position. Even with the power of it and Thorn, there was no guarantee that he would live through the oncoming struggles. He found the thought oddly comforting; at least there was something to be hopeful for….
Had Eragon ever felt this kind of doubt? Probably, but he still managed to get by somehow, living on despite what the Empire did, what normal people did just to get by; he was trying to protect them all! And yet, here was Murtagh, his older brother, the one who was supposed to protect him, help him, on the other side of the war.
Would Eragon ever understand why he had done what he did? Murtagh scoffed to himself bitterly. The thought of the boy's pity was almost as upsetting as the thought his hatred. A thought crept across his consciousness, a lingering doubt: Had Eragon been right that he should have died? He looked around the empty but exquisite room and shook his head; was this any better than hell? He was alive, but alone. But he was alive, despite the universe's, the gods best efforts; was that enough? Besides, it wasn't like a control freak such as Galbatorix to let such a valuable tool kill himself…. He shook his head angrily. "NO!" he hissed to himself. Death was the coward's way out; this was his life, and no one had any right to judge what he had to do to keep it. A man's life was his soul, right?
Though, try as he might, a presence of doubt lingered in the back of his mind, whispering…just whispering quietly... He shivered, despite the heat.
I've become so numb, I can't feel you there
I've become so tired, so much more aware
I'm becoming this, all I want to do
Is be more like me, and less like you
Murtagh sighed as he got out of the bed and began to prepare for the summons that would surely arrive. A few minutes later, a servant was knocking on the door, proving Murtagh correct.
After a half hour, Murtagh left the throne room with his new assignment. He was supposed to head out to a village near Helgrind that wasn't paying enough taxes and 'encourage' them to pay up. He sighed as he set out, the guilt of his upcoming actions already forming….
Wouldn't you think he would be numb to these things by now?
And that's it. I hope that it was an improvement over the original, or at least a decent character shot. Thank you so much for reading and I hope that you all have enjoyed this series as much as I have.
To quote an author you may know…: May your swords stay sharp!