Disclaimer: Aren't you tired of the same old disclaimer from me? Here's what you need to know: I don't own Eragon or anything from the Eragon world. I do however own the plot! Got it memorized? XD
Claimer: I, SussieKitten, own this plot and the story. Borrow or steal my plot, (when used) my original characters or story and I will report you. I also own Saphira/Thorn's human appearances.
A/N I'm semi-back from my break with a new story for you guys. :lol: Why it's this story is because I'm leaving for my break in two weeks and don't have the time to post a long story. :sweatdrop: For further information about this one-shot see the note at the bottom of the page. Now, read and enjoy!
EDIT: (9th of October, 08) A few more minor spelling and grammar mistakes have been fixed.
Whisper In The Dark
The night had just fallen when a small group of people came to a stop. They were cautious in their movement and had camped by a lake surrounded by trees. They were not far from the border to Surda. The group had been travelling non-stop since their departure from Helgrind. And that for a good reason. This group consisted of people from the Varden that had just finished their mission. And most importantly, this group had a Rider and his dragon with them.
Eragon was watching silently as the others started a fire and set up a few tents. They had rescued Katrina, as Roran had wished, a few days earlier. So far they had only stopped two times. But the men with them were falling off their horses, and Arya had wisely suggested they camp for the night.
Eragon sighed and continued to check Saphira's saddle. They had not spoken a lot so far on the journey. He knew his companions were starting to question his silence, and only hoped they wouldn't come forward and ask him. The brunet didn't feel like sharing the truth of his silence any time soon.
-Are you alright, Eragon?-
Eragon blinked and turned his gaze back to his dragon. Without knowing, his eyes had sought out the people he travelled with.
-Yes, Saphira. I'm just concerned, that's all.-
The mighty blue dragon sighed in his mind.
-What for? Whoever might be following us are days behind. Even you must rest, Rider.- Saphira said softly.
-That's not why I worry.- Eragon told her. -I feel that the mission was too easy. Surely Galbatorix must have known we would come for her?-
-You call that easy?-
Eragon removed the saddle before he dared to answer. True it hadn't been easy, but it hadn't been hard either. The Ra'zac hadn't been in Helgrind when they had breached the building and had gotten Katrina out. The group had practically taken out all the guards and avoided many traps, but to Eragon it still seemed easy.
-The Ra'zac weren't there, Saphira. That worries me. What if they're out here, looking for us?-
Saphira nuzzled him soothingly.
-Don't think of that now, little one. Rest, speak with your friends, get a good night sleep. We will need all our strength for the last part of our trip.- She said gently.
Eragon watched as Roran and Katrina got into a small tent that had been assigned to them. Katrina had been beaten and tortured, and Eragon had allowed her to ride Saphira when she needed to lie down. Katrina was getting better, but without a proper healer there wasn't much they could do. Eragon and Arya needed to spare their strength, and Katrina had been forced to drink poison. They were uncertain how the poison would react to their healing. They had therefore decided that it was much better to wait until they arrived in Surda.
Arya was helping out the two men and the other elf that had come with them. She had sent him many glances, ones that Eragon had chosen to ignore. He didn't wish to know what she might be thinking.
-I do not wish to speak to them yet.- Eragon confessed finally.
-You must someday, Eragon.- Saphira said wisely. -Hiding your feelings helps no one, including you.-
-Someday is not today.- Eragon told her as he stood up. -I need to take a walk, to clear my mind. I will call for you if I need you.-
-Be careful.-
-I will.- Eragon promised as he walked away from their tent and towards the rest of the group.
Arya looked up on his arrival. They hadn't spoken since the day after the battle, apart from the occasional greeting and exchange of information. It was the way Eragon preferred it.
"Arya svit-kona." He said with a small bow as he came close enough. "I will be taking a short walk. Would you tell my cousin if he asks?"
"I will, Rider." Arya answered.
Eragon gave her a small smile of gratitude before he turned to walk away.
"You don't have to go through this alone, Eragon."
Eragon frowned as he turned back around. The female elf was looking at him with sorrow.
"Don't have to go through what?" He asked.
"The pain you're feeling." Arya clarified. "It's written on your face."
The brunet clenched his jaw. It didn't sit well with him that Arya could see through him so easily.
"This is something I have to go through alone." Eragon responded at last. "It's no one's business but my own."
Eragon had taken several steps away from her when Arya called out after him.
"Murtagh's betrayal shocked us all, Rider. Some more than others. You aren't alone in this."
"You're wrong, Arya svit-kona." Eragon said tensely. "I'm afraid that in this, I'm all alone."
Arya didn't call after him again as he walked on and finally disappeared in the trees. She could never understand what he was going through.
Eragon broke into a small run when he could no longer see the fire of the camp light up around him. The half-full moon was his only light as he ran on. All too soon his lungs were screaming for air and he slowed down. The brunet found a small clearing and sat down. The lake had broken into a river and it was flowing gently past him. The moon was illuminated in the water, giving it a ghostly shine. Eragon sighed.
Murtagh's betrayal had shocked him and hurt him more than anyone could ever imagine. He had learned things, things he would forever treasure, from the other male when they had travelled together. Murtagh had been his first real friend outside his family. And now he had learned they were brothers.
Eragon hissed. The shock still sent sparks of pain into his heart. It was almost as if he was back on the Burning Plains, looking up and into the red Rider's face. Everything was still too fresh for him.
While Arya hurt because Murtagh had been a sort of friend of hers, Eragon hurt for the loss of his only friend, the one how somehow had really understood him. No one could ever replace Murtagh, no matter how much tried. The older male had a special place in his heart, one that people could only dream of taking over.
Eragon sighed again. He loathed admitting it, but he had been doing it a lot since leaving Helgrind. He had somehow been so sure that Murtagh would be waiting there for him, either as a prisoner or a guard of Katrina, but he had been neither. Murtagh had been absent, and that worried Eragon. Galbatorix had to be holding him in his castle then, and Eragon hurt for his brother who had to spend so much time with the mad King. The brunet just hoped Murtagh wasn't getting hurt for disobeying Galbatorix. Murtagh had come back empty handed, without the Rider the King had so clearly requested him to catch. If Murtagh was hurt because of that, Eragon wondered if he could ever forgive himself.
"Why did you have to be taken captive, Murtagh?" Eragon whispered into the night. "Why couldn't you have stayed behind?"
A gentle wind rustled through his hair. Eragon closed his eyes and let his ears take in the sounds of the forest. A few animals were sprinting about, but most were asleep. A bird gently sang in the night. An owl or two hooted. It was blissfully peaceful. Eragon almost couldn't hear the sounds from the camp.
"Why couldn't you have come back with me, Murtagh?" Eragon asked harshly into the dark. "Why?"
A pair of wings flapping snapped Eragon out of his state of mind. He looked to the sky by couldn't see any birds. The sound had been faint, almost as if it had come from far away. It was hard to see against the dark sky above him. If the bird had been flying high enough then it was possible that Eragon couldn't see it. He only hoped it was a bird and not something else.
Eragon let himself slowly relax again, but made sure to listen in on someone coming his way. A hand gently traced the foreign ear as he sat on the grass. He wasn't used to his new looks yet. He was still startled when he saw the pointy ears as he cleansed himself.
Eragon let his hand drop and took in his surroundings more thoroughly. The river slithered between the trees until it disappeared from his sight. But before the water could fully disappear from sight, Eragon could make out that it flowed by an opening in the small mountains they had travelled around. The lake near the camp was in fact between sections of small mountains, providing them with a much needed cover. But so far Eragon couldn't remember seeing any caves in them.
Curious, and knowing but not caring that he was being reckless, Eragon began to walk forward. He made sure not to step on any twigs or stumble. If there was someone there, he didn't want to alert them of his presence. A hand curled around his new sword as he came closer. It looked almost like Za'roc's twin, only that the stone on the handle was a dark sapphire and the blade a ghostly blue that turned silver as it closed in on the handle. It never left Eragon's side.
The cave's entrance was illuminated by the moon. The light cast a shadow on the floor before the glowing remains of a fire. Unfortunately, the light stuck in such a way that only half of the cave was lit up. It was impossible to see if someone was inside of it.
"Brisingr." Eragon said quietly, and a small flame danced in the palm on his hand.
He stepped closer still and held out the flame to see more of the inside. He gasped and the flame was put out.
Inside he had seen a shadow. It had looked human, but Eragon couldn't be sure. Determined to find out, the brunet walked even closer, until his right foot was inside the cave. The burning coal provided him with little light, but it was enough.
A person was curled up against the rock wall, but Eragon could only make out that the person was male. A shiver escaped the male, and Eragon took a step back. When no further signs of the other waking up came, he stepped inside again, this time deeper into the cave. The person's face was hidden, but the brunet could see that he was wounded. Several slashes were present on the dark clad back, and an arm looked badly mangled. There was so much blood that Eragon wondered how they could have bled it all and still be alive.
There was nothing that could tell Eragon if they were a friend or foe. But the male looked to be alone, and somehow Eragon could tell that they weren't much older than him. But, being so close to the Surdan border, Eragon figured they were a friend.
The brunet took a step back and got ready to call for Saphira. If the person was as badly wounded as the parts Eragon had seen, he would need a healer soon. But before Eragon could open the link the person shivered and turned around. Eragon stumbled out of the cave in shock.
"… Murtagh?"
Unable to believe what he had seen, Eragon slowly walked back inside. But there he still was, sleeping right before his eyes. Murtagh.
Eragon shook his head silently. It couldn't be true. Somehow, he was seeing things, he just knew it. Murtagh couldn't be lying in a cave, left for dead, and wounded beyond his wildest imagination. And needing to prove that to himself, Eragon sat down and turned over the male's right palm. It was unmarked.
The brunet sighed out in relief. It was probably just someone he thought looked like Murtagh. Nodding to himself, Eragon slowly began to heal him.
"Waise heill." He whispered.
The slashes disappeared from the pale back, leaving only the torn remains of the shirt behind. The cut along the male's temple knotted itself together and vanished. The broken ankle and ribs healed themselves thankfully without the other waking up. Each bruise paled and was nevermore. Then it was the last injury Eragon could spot; the left arm.
He whispered the same words and watched the scratches and burns disappear. As the slash in the palm vanished something else popped up and into Eragon's vision. A silvery mark that he had only seen in Brom's palm and his own. The mark of a Dragon Rider.
He flinched back as if burned. There was only one other person that could have that mark, and that was his brother. Murtagh. Eragon stood up and prepared himself to run away. Murtagh groaned then. Eragon couldn't help himself; he turned back around.
Murtagh trashed on the floor, as if he was being attacked by invisible enemies. Eragon bit his lip. Gently, he crouched back onto his knees. He laid a hand onto Murtagh's forehead. It burned him even before his hand met the pale flesh.
"Waise heill."
Slowly Murtagh's cold sweat disappeared and the trashing stopped. Eragon breathed out again.
As much as he wanted to, Eragon couldn't make himself leave. He hadn't allowed himself to think about his brother much since the Burning Plains, but now he couldn't help himself. He had mourned Murtagh during the time after Farthen Dûr, but hadn't let anyone in on his suffering. Only Saphira had known, and she had thankfully kept quiet. Eragon had mourned and missed a great friend, but he had mourned the loss of his first love as well. It was true that he had pursued and acted like he had fallen for Arya, but it had only been an act to fool himself and those around him. He had been attracted to her, but not as much as he knew people thought.
No, it was Murtagh that had been his first love. He wasn't sure how, but all Eragon knew was that he had fallen for him. That was why he hadn't allowed himself to mourn out loud, or even think about him now that he knew Murtagh was alive. It was wrong now to think about him. One was not meant to love their sibling like that, be they female or male. That was also why Eragon knew his feelings would never be returned. Murtagh was, in one word, perfect, and couldn't possibly fall for his little brother. No, Eragon would keep the secret with him, and he would take it to his grave.
Eragon sighed. He shakily stood up, feeling the blood rush back into his legs, and gazed sadly at Murtagh. It was likely the last time he would see him again.
Murtagh let out a groan in his sleep. Eragon, suddenly feeling worried again, checked for any other injury but found none. Almost unwillingly, a hand reached out and brushed away the dark hair from the pale Rider's face. Murtagh seemed to lean into the touch, and Eragon let himself smile softly. He slowly removed his hand, feeling it curl into a fist.
"Eragon." The breathy whisper echoed inside the cave.
Eragon looked up in shock. He looked over Murtagh's face, but the Rider was still asleep. Why had Murtagh called his name in his sleep? Eragon shook the thought from his mind. He couldn't stay any longer.
"Goodbye, Murtagh." Eragon said quietly.
He turned around and walked briskly out of the cave. He thanked the Gods Murtagh hadn't woken up as his walk turned into a run. He knew he shouldn't have done what he had done, but felt no remorse. At least he got to see his brother one last time.
Eragon didn't notice a pair of foggy eyes opening to stare after him. Neither did he hear the soft whisper in the dark.
"Farwell… Eragon."
The End
A/N Part 1 of The Dark Series. I'm not quite sure if I will continue this series however. It's proving to be quite hard to write! XD I have written 2 out of 4 stories, and am struggling with number 3. I'll keep you guys posted.
But enough about that! What did you guys think? Push the pretty lil' button on the left and let me know! You know you wanna ;D
