Hello, Lovies! My, my, it's HAS been a while…especially for this fandom, my apologies to those that actually enjoy my work. This story was inspired by a beautiful Deviant Art picture drawn my Deygira-Blood. I promised them I would give as much credit I can. So here I am, fulfilling that promise to the very best of my abilities. The artwork in question is also the cover art for this particular oneshot. I do hope I do it justice.
Enough with my rambling, I'll do the very best I can with it!
Murtagh was drawn to the room by the sound of his father's drunken ranting and Durza's angry shouting. Currently, he watched as the Rider and Shade went at it with all but their fists from the doorway. Pulling his bear closer, Murtagh shied away a tad bit. But only a tad. Childish curiosity kept him from running away completely.
As he pressed his back to the wall to keep out of sight, he strained his ears to hear what the argument was about.
"I disagree," he heard Durza say, clearly trying to reign in his temper.
"What?" Morzan demanded. Murtagh shivered at the voice.
"I said," Durza ground out "I disagree."
"What?" The intensity of the question would have told Murtagh not to repeat himself again. Obviously the Shade wasn't so bright.
"You heard me; I disagree. I don't think we should pay any more attention to this gardener than we have the others. He is old and poses no threat." Murtagh peaked out around the wall to see his father's reaction. The pair was standing on opposite sides of a long wooden table, something one might find in a tavern somewhere. Morzan leaned in very close, lowering his voice to a dangerous level.
"You dare oppose me?" He asked Durza, and Murtagh had to bite back a whimper. Even when his father's wrath was not directed at him, it was still the scariest thing out there. No one, not even Durza, deserved to be on the end of such abuse.
"I dare," Durza's voice was as cold as Morzan's, and he held his head high with dignity.
"Fool!" Morzan cried before lunging out at the Shade, yanking his blood red hair up from his skull. Durza gritted his teeth in pain and frustration, clawing at the wood that separated the pair. Murtagh watched in horror as the Dragon Rider pulled the other man off his feet. Durza struggled hard, and pulled himself down, closer to the table. Morzan slammed his fist on the table.
"You are a fool, Shade! A fool to not see this gardener's true colors! A fool to disagree with me! A fool to speak such things so openly! If you were anyone else, I'd have your head on a platter by now!" Morzan's voice was louder now, dangerously so. Murtagh whimpered and went back to his hiding place. He prayed to every and any deity out there that his father wouldn't find him. He shouldn't be here. He needed to leave.
"MURTAGH!" his father's angry voice echoed loudly across the room and ricocheted down the hall. Too late; he'd been caught. Stupid, stupid. Murtagh shuffled into the room, hiding behind his teddy bear.
"Yes, father?" he asked shyly. He glanced at the Shade, who was now sprawled out on the floor a few feet away.
"How much of that did you here?" the Rider snapped. Murtagh had heard nearly everything. Everything important; everything he wanted to hear. Not that he'd tell his father this. He was young, not stupid, after all.
"Not-not much sir! I-I was just passing b-by!" Murtagh stammered. In his drunken state, this statement appeared to pacify the normally violent and short-tempered man in front of him.
"Right, well, pass by you will," Morzan stood up a bit taller, straightening his tunic. He looked somewhere out into the distance above and behind his son for a few heartbeats before returning his gaze to the frightened child. "Well?" he demanded. "What are you waiting for? Go on, get!" he made a shooing motion with his hand and the small boy scurried from the room.
Murtagh raced down corridor after corridor, not daring to look back in fear of seeing his father's angry face pursuing him. He didn't stop running until he got into his chambers, slamming the door and leaping onto the bed. He buried his face in the sheets and fell into a restless sleep, where visions of Durza's recent abuse at the hand of Morzan danced in his head.
Well? Thoughts? Love it, hate it? I think I did all right with it. It didn't go quite the way I imagined it would, but still…I suppose it's okay.
As always, read and review, and Deygira-Blood, if you're reading this, thank you very much for giving me this much-needed inspiration.
Until next time, Lovies,
~Gwen