Inheritance
By: Virodeil

AU. Murtagh was saved from the Twins before his hell-on-earth ever began, but by whom and for what purpose? Nobody would guess…

Story Notes:
1. This story is maybe far different from my usual pieces in terms of simplicity and lack of quality. This was only a passing thought one Sunday, just before the torture that is my translation project ever began, which unfortunately germinated quickly and firmly into a deep-rooted story. It was designed to be short and light and uncomplicated and able to be worked at during these terribly-hectic six months, but still in Rey-verse.
2. No character bashing, as far as I can help it. But the writing may look slanted that way, especially when it comes to the protagonists of The Inheritance Cycle. I cannot really filter whatever is inside my head right now, so neither polishing nor downplaying will happen in this story, which I usually did before, hence people may look shallower than in my other pieces. I simply cannot put much thought into this when I am already overloaded with RL work.
3. I'm not a native speaker of English here, and I use a screen reader which doesn't tell me much too, so I would like to apologise in advance for any mishap I accidentally create language-wise, since I won't have enough time to edit, given the stress level I'm currently under. Dialogue markers, in case I use other languages, will be put on the header of the respective chapter, but otherwise you can assume it's all English, or Alagaësian equivalent of English. Update is every two weeks if I can help it, by the way, in 500-word format. It's kind of a reward for myself to write anything but things related to work in that time, actually.
4. I love family and friendship interactions, I love 'cuddly fluffs', I love turning things upside-down, so expect things like those here instead of heavy action, complicated adventures etc. This is my escape from RL, since my other pieces, however light they are, are too heavy to achieve in my current situation. They won't be abandoned, but I won't work on them maybe till December. There will be little hint or warning on each chapter though, if even any; and again, advanced apology for that.
5. Review, flame, do anything all you wish. I might not be able to answer reviews (if there is any) or the answer might be short, but be assured that such appreciation (high appreciation, to me) don't escape me. The RL work makes me check my inbox regularly, so it'd be quite heartening if I saw some mail alert from FFN for this story.
6. (Additional Information) Someone ever said that I love to link up all and every person in the book together in various kinds of relationships, usually familial and friendship, entirely too much. I cannot deny that. I just wished to have something sneaking round under the surface like mushrooms under the earth, and got this as the result. I'm not ashamed of it, either, but if you don't like it, best don't read it. There will be huge controversies regarding Rey-verse too in this story, mainly regarding Morzan and Brom and regarding Morzan and Selena; but those, we'll just see later. I do hope you'll still enjoy the story though.

Chapter 1: Rescued?

I was so cocky, so confident in myself.

"The King is going to be so pleased yet displeased with you."

The oily purr sickens me, but the implication of the words terrifies me. Worse, he knows that, judging by how he and his twin keep goding me these two days.

"You shall feel it in less than a month if we have our way, my dear, and then we shall reap our reward at last."

That is what I fear, and he knows that, keeps reminding me that, keeps torturing me in lieu of the King's ministrations.

Torture, while I can do nothing to escape it, to avoid it, to fight against it; tied down, caged, completely under the nonexistent mercy of a powerful, cruel madman…

A deep, deep chill that has nothing to do with his gleeful cackle invades my marrows. The words are not just an empty threat, even the estimated time of this hellish trip, I know that, having travelled every wretched mile with Eragon and Saphira only two months ago. And to think that, two days have now passed, just less than two fortnights more until…

I gulp.

Visibly, maybe, because then the foul demon, with glinting eyes and leering lips, purrs, "You ought to have thought twice before betraying the King, then."

I glare at the bald-headed, purple-garbed, traitorous, sneering madman. But as exhausted and starving and in thirst and in pain and in fear as I am, the glare might be only as potant as a mere bleary stare.

It proves true, again: He laughs mockingly at me.

A moment after, with a sickly-sweet murmured word, my left index finger breaks, joining the four others he and his twin have broken alternatedly unhealed these couple of days. Like in the previous occurances, he tries to enter my mind at the same time; though like others, the attempt is thankfully in vain.

But still, it leaves a horrible pain in my head, in addition to the breaks those two traitors put on various parts of my body these two days. I know better than to curse them after crying out from the pain, however, since it left me with literally-sealed lips for the whole day yesterday.

"I do not appreciate cheek from anybody, most especially you, boy. The King will soon teach it out of you, I do hope."

It is not in my nature and nurture to back down, however, especially from such insulting, sickening, life-threatening pair of yellow-bellied bastards of some forgotten evil god, most especially when any of them takes such a maddening tone. I paid the price yesterday, and today as well, yet it still feels too unbearable not to fight back.

So I do. I glare again at him.

And in the next moment, with another calmly-spoken word whispered gleefully in my ear, I can no longer see, with throbbing eye area to boot as though he had given me a pair of black eyes.

"You bas–!"

And, as guaranteed by sheer repetition and continuation, my lips are sealed again.

"Mmph!" Panic, horror, hatred, fury, and a sundry other emotions attack me all at once. Cold sweat begins to reach out to my skin from the depths of my marrow, it feels. I struggle fiercely against the bond, yelling as best as I can with all my might. This is worse than ever, nearly a month early, and I cannot escape, cannot avoid it – and it is just one twin; how about when both are here?

The thought terrifies me, to my shame. But I cannot prevent it, and cannot prevent myself from struggling fiercer as well.

"Such a delight, to have Morzan's son in our mercy, at last," the madman purrs, chuckling sensuously. "Payback time, eh? We shall see what my brother thinks of this when he's back from his foraging. Maybe he'd like to add some… flare, on this living picture?"

Everything from the top of my head down to my toes hurts on that.

It is truly, really, really sick of the King to extend his torturing hands via these slimy monsters, instead of waiting to do it once we have inevitably arrived at Urú'baen. I hate tortures, who does not, but this is really…!

And worse, nobody came to search for me, let alone help me escape, especially when we were still within range of Beor Mountains, which was two mornings ago.

The first set of people that I could consider almost family since the death of my real family, and they did not take long to abandon me.

As harsh as ré'a had been half of the time to me, he had still been my father in name and half in deed, and he had never abandoned me to fend for myself.

But Ré'a is dead.

And still, nobody would see me as I am, including these worms and the King. Réa is dead! I am not he! I–

Another jabbing hit at my broken left shin.

Now a pair of gleeful cackles above me on my unavoidable scream, muffled by my sealed lips, instead of only one. Great… the other just-as-foul half has returned, and that must have been his 'greeting'. What did I deserve it for?!

But oddly, this time, something in the endless sequence of hurting and gloating is different.

The screams of those damned nameless twins follow right after mine, and I can feel the tremor of the cold packed earth as they fall. I wish I could see, I wish one of them did not put huge black eyes so 'nicely' on both of my eyes, but this is already incredible.

Are their attackers agents of the Varden?

But if they were bandits or slavers…?

Something soft – a hand? – touches the side of my head gently, then moves to my unshaven cheek, and down to my also-unshaven chin. I jerk away.

But the hand persists, though I hear no sound from its owner.

No, this cannot be an agent of the Varden, nor especially bandits, let alone slavers. Nobody would do that to me, save for Mother, and – sometimes – Ré'a.

My tongue feels too thick to form any proper word, in addition to my sealed lips. Those treacherous bastards have given me no drop of water – not to mention food – whatsoever since the morning three days ago, claiming that their rations were running out. If only I could speak; I dearly wish to demand who is so forwardly still stroking my hair and the side of my face.

I try to open my mouth, still, by sheer determination.

It doesn't work. I can only let out a muffled cry at that.

But it might attract the attention of my stroker, since, with the trailing of one slim finger along the chapped line of my lips, my mouth can open once more.

Still, instead of words coming out, something else instead trickles in, something heavenly.

Water, cool sweet water.

My tormenters are still screaming out intermittently, maybe in fear, maybe in pain, but I can care less about them right now. The water, trickled so slowly and patiently into my unaccustomed, swollen mouth, is so fresh, so sweet, so great for my partched throat, so…

Fulfilling?

Wait…

Erh, how can such a small amount of water fill my belly like a full meal?

Now I truly wish I could open my eyes and look at my feeder.

Why did I just willingly drink, anyhow? What is wrong with me?

The screams of the Twins abruptly cut off.

Everything falls silent.

My feeder no longer gives me water, no longer touches my head.

I feel even more confused and incredulous than before, even more curious.

Even more yearning for what was.

But what now?