Yeah, this is my second story. I haven't read Eragon or Eldest in forever, so forgive me if I get facts wrong. I don't really know what to do with it, but here it is...
Prologue
"Silivkia," the Twins muttered. Instantly a fierce pain shot up Murtagh's spinal cord, causing him to writhe like a slug immersed in salt. As the agony finally ebbed, he gasped for breath, and gave a mordant stare of hatred.
"Is that all you got?" he challenged.
"Oh, I see. That wasn't enough, so you want more, don't you, you traitor?" he hissed through his teeth, a smug smile on his lips.
"Your mission is to bring me back to Galbatorix alive. He's not going to be particularly pleased when he hears that you tortured me to death on the way," Murtagh said with pure venom soaked in every syllable.
"Are you challenging me?" an angry voice replied.
"You wouldn't-" Murtagh started, but was cut off with a surge of anguish far, far, stronger than the first wave, if that was possible. Try as he might, he could not suppress a scream, which echoed down the cave.
"STOP IT!" a furious voice shouted. The pain receded, and Murtagh looked up to see a female servant dressed in rags.
Her fiery crimson hair was fastened in a high bun above her head. High cheekbones outlined her fair face, which was covered in layers of sweat and grime. Unfathomable orbs of amethyst met his ebony eyes, and he flushed slightly when he realized he was staring like he had never seen a girl before.
What is she doing with the Urgals?
"This is none of your business, Jeannette," one of the Twins said gruffly.
"I just made it my business. Galbatorix will punish him personally, and I don't recall him asking you to do the task for him," she riposted forcefully.
"Why would we listen to a lowly slave like you?" one of the Twins scorned with contempt.
"If my memory serves correctly, a lowly slave like me saved the life of your brother by plugging these two fingers into his artery to stop the bleeding. I don't see why you couldn't have done it," she alleged. The Twins paused to think for a moment, but it seemed like they were out of options.
"You've got guts, blackmailing us like this. But I suppose it's true that I do owe you," he turned to face Murtagh, and said, "We'll settle this later, when your precious lover isn't here to protect you." They left, heading further down the passageway. She leaned down, offering a hand to help Murtagh back up. He didn't take it, but got up perfectly fine by himself.
"That was unnecessary. I could have handled them perfectly by myself," he said gruffly, a bit embarrassed to be saved by a girl.
"I'm sure you could," she concurred easily. Ungrateful boy, she thought to herself.
"What are you doing here?"
"I'm a healer for the Battle of Farthen Dûr, since we're so short on hands," she responded, "Are you all right?"
"Of course," he replied quickly.
"What a pointless question to ask. Well, unlike you, I have chores to do. If you need anything, just call for me," she said, turning her heels to walk down the stone cave. Jeannette, hmm...