When the Branch Breaks
Hush-a-bye baby
On the tree top
To watch Eragon sleep, Murtagh would never have guessed that this person before him was a dragon-rider who had killed a Shade, rescued an elven princess and was now travelling to the Varden as their saviour. The little firelight which lit the scene made his features seem somewhat softer, their harsh lines made by months of strain relaxed into a calmer, more handsome countenance.
Murtagh's gaze dropped to the sword at the other's hip: a reminder that it was no boy that lay beside him, but a battle-hardened young man, a warrior. And, to Murtagh, the knowledge that Eragon had his birthright: their father's sword which should have rightfully passed to the older brother, not the younger.
He watched as Eragon rolled over in his slumber, the fingers of one hand twitching as if to grab something in his dream, mouth slightly open. Murtagh smiled slightly. He could live with the knowledge, at least for a little while. But…
When the branch breaks
The cradle will drop