A/N So Christopher Paolini chose to leave the futures of the romances in the book mostly secret. Whether this is because he likes the idea of us using our imaginations or plans to explain them when he returns to writing about Alagaësia again I don't know... personally I'm hoping for the second.
The Arya and Eragon ending doesn't bother me so much, they're immortal, they can take their time. I see it as more of a beginning than an end for them. Besides Arya as good as admitted she loves him and he's not about to change his mind, so they'll get together properly eventually.
Murtagh and Nasuada is a little less certain... so here I wrote what I like to think happens and I hope some of you are happy with too.
Feel free to review and discuss anything about the couples, characters or book with me. I need people to talk to about Inheritance! Also let me know if you see anything you think's glaringly wrong, such as names and places etc. If you think anyone's ooc let me know, but I think that is up to interpretation and most people have different views of the characters so I might not change anything. But apart from all that I hope you enjoy reading!
~Dedicated to Sen (SmilesLasting) because she helps with all those annoying grammar things and's just generally amazing ~
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Close to Happily Ever After
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It had been a few years since he'd last been within the civilized parts of Alagaësia, and his apprehension was strong. The Broddring Kingdom, as it was once again called, was a safer place for the average person then the Empire which Galbatorix had ruled... but then Murtagh and Thorn were far from average.
It wasn't to be hoped that they would be safe or welcomed.
In the wild north it had been different. They were free there, as they'd never been before, and they'd had the space needed to think and be themselves. Thorn had never been free at all, and to him the experience had been one of wonder and joy; soon the anger and hurt that had been at the core of his being was melting away. Galbatorix was the one he had hated most and he had died, and with him the chains that held them to the mad King.
Murtagh's pain was more complicated though. His life had been full of trials, one after the other, without ever having a safe home or place. Being out in the north of Alagaësia with Thorn had helped him immensely. The exhilaration he felt was as strong as his dragon's, but it could only help him so much. There had been much talk with Thorn and even more silent contemplation until the dense rage he felt within himself began to ebb away.
The hate, betrayal and rage that he felt for the world at large left him as did the more personal anger towards certain individuals, namely Eragon and Saphira. His imprisonment had not been their fault, and the circumstances that had led them to live a happier life were not of their making either.
He found he could not forgive their mother, Selena, though. Whatever else she had done in her life, she had abandoned him to the mercy of an abusive father and hadn't taken him with her when she fled. Perhaps that hadn't been her fault or choice, but she had still done it and he wasn't ready to forgive her.
He had healed, but not completely, like the scar on his back. He suspected some hurts never would, but he was more at peace now.
Flying high above the ground and veiled by magic, the dragon and rider wondered what the inhabitants of the small village below would think if they knew they were there. Even this small settlement north of Ceunon would know of the son of Morzan and his red dragon.
The taste was bitter in Murtagh's mouth.
Thorn and Murtagh hadn't had to speak to know they both wanted to stay away from the scattered settlements they occasionally encountered in the north, so they saw few people. Most of those they had seen were from a distance, and it was obvious that they avoided them out of caution and fear of Thorn rather than prior knowledge of who they were and their past actions.
The only time they intentionally came into contact with a large settlement was when they'd seen a large pillar of smoke rising from a fortified town. The residents were trying to put out the fire but were having little luck – the whole place was made out of wood.
After a brief discussion they decided to go to the town and help. It would be a simple enough thing to put out the fire after all.
The people there at first had been suspicious and wary, though had not acted against them, as all their energy had been taken up trying to stop the all-consuming fire. But with a few choice words and Thorn's assistance, Murtagh had soon been able to save the town. Word spread even faster than the flames had, and to their surprise, the townspeople welcomed them to stay awhile.
As servants of Galbatorix they had been treated many ways: with deference, fear, hostility and flattery, by those hoping to advance their position within the Empire. Mostly, they were familiar with fear and hostility.
Never had they been treated with joyful gratitude and thanks.
Thorn in particular had revelled in the attention. It was a completely new experience for him, and though the people were wary when he first approached them, soon there was no fear. Both compliments and offerings of food were very forthcoming.
Thorn's surprise and joy had rubbed off on Murtagh too, making him smile amongst other people for the first time in a long, long while.
A feast had been held in their honour, of the hero who had saved the town and his great red dragon. A strange sort of ale was served in abundance and the tables were richly laden. The shock of being in company again was lessened by the friendliness of the people, and there were many pretty young girls all hoping to win the favour of the handsome and noble stranger.
But that had only put him in mind of another girl, one who he regarded far more highly than any other being save Thorn.
Which was why they were now back in the country of their births.
At the first village they had come to, Thorn had landed a fair distance away so as to be unseen by any humans and after hiding him with magic, Murtagh had altered his own appearance. Then he entered the village.
It had been a nerve racking experience, not because of fear of discovery or injury, as his powers were too great for that. But it was the first time he had been amongst people who had been part of the empire, and that alone made him feel anxious. Though he told himself again and again that it was unnecessary anxiety, it seemed determined to stay.
He had gone there to get information and some supplies which he couldn't acquire himself or with Thorn's help. He had no money at all, so he had caught a stag and sold it to the village butcher. The coins he got were few, but he did not need much, so he was left with some change.
Even more profitable was the information he heard. He learnt of soldiers returning to their homes, freed of all oaths they'd been forced to take and in whose name this had been done.
Nasuada, Queen of the Broddring Kingdom and High Queen of Surda and Tierm.
Thorn felt his Rider's shock and fierce pride, but didn't share the same wonderment until they learnt that dragons were no longer on the road to extinction. Thorn was hard-pressed not to roar with joy when he heard that through their mental link.
Murtagh was a little saddened when he discovered that Eragon had left to find a new place for the riders across the sea. Their last goodbye had done much to give Murtagh hope that they might once again be friends and comrades, and he had hoped to see him on this visit.
For a visit was all it ever could be. How would they ever be allowed to stay?
When they took to the air again, they gave more thought to their future. Eragon's new home for Riders gave them much to think about. Perhaps they would one day be welcomed there. Saphira and Eragon had received training from the elves and would receive a lot more from the Eldunari he knew to be in their care, but Galbatorix, for all his evil, had been smart. There were some things Murtagh and Thorn had been taught that would be of great use to new riders.
Perhaps his brother would welcome another experienced rider and dragon to help?
But then, they dared not hope for that. They had still been the tools of the empire and were the students of the most hated man in memory. They had killed many of the Varden, and not only Eragon's mentors, Oromis and Glaedr, but also the Dwarf King Hrothgar.
Even if his brother and Saphira forgave them, what chance would there be that the new dwarfish riders (for riders they could now be) would let him live?
No, he was sure they cursed the name Murtagh Kingkiller even more than they had Morzan's.
So they flew on, avoiding all major settlements and making sure their presence in the Kingdom was unnoticed.
The further they got, the more Murtagh's mood began to darken with doubt. He was still desperate to see her, to know how she fared, but he began to fear she would not welcome him. Though he had saved her life with his interference, it had still caused her torture and pain (which his blood boiled to think of) and he'd been the one forced to wield the hot irons. Though he had planned to save her, he had not accomplished it.
But then he remembered how she'd taken his hand, and how she'd sobbed onto his chest while he held her. He remembered the feel of her hair and the colour of her eyes. She'd let him into her mind too, though it could've all been a trap. She'd listened to him and talked to him, and in those hours together in the Hall of the Soothsayer, they'd grown very close.
Even after, she'd stayed with him. When he freed her from her shackles in the King's chamber, she'd supported him and later, outside, she'd been with him until he left.
That had been the last time he touched her, when he was healing her. The last time he'd seen her or heard her voice.
Perhaps she would be glad to see him. She knew how much he cared for her. Heck, his true name had changed because of what she meant to him. She couldn't possibly not know. That had been what allowed Eragon to stop Galbatorix once and for all. Perhaps there was still hope for Thorn and himself to find a proper home somewhere.
So his thoughts fluctuated the next few days as they flew south to the re-named city of Ilirea. One moment, they were of despair, and the next one of hope, but never settling on either.
It was very late, or perhaps very early, when Nasuada woke to feel a mind brushing hers.
Immediately her shields went up. It would not be the first time someone had tried to enter her mind forcefully. Briefly, she wondered why Elva had not woken to warn her.
Then she realised what was happening.
She had not felt his mind in years, but still she recognised him. Without a second thought, she threw off her defences and mentally called out, Murtagh!
She could sense the relief and happiness that flowed through him when she welcomed him so joyously. Nasuada, are you able to leave the city?
You're here? Yes, yes, I shall be able to come immediately. Where are you?
On a hill to the north. If you ride this way, I shall be able to guide you to me.
I'll not be there for a little while, but I… I will see you soon. She sensed him smile through the connection before he closed it. She recovered from her shock and jumped from her bed to run to the door. Mindful that she was in her nightgown, she only opened the door slightly to tell the page waiting outside, "Go to the stables and see to it that there are enough horses ready to ride outside the city for two watches of the Nighthawks, Elva and myself, and keep it quiet. Please." It's turned out to be a smart decision to have a page outside my door at all times, she reflected. They had come in handy many times.
She was aware that she was grinning foolishly at the young boy as he ran down the hall, but found that she didn't really care. The two guards standing by the door (members of the Nighthawks themselves) however obviously wondered what had got into their queen. "Your Majesty," one of them said, "it's past three in the morning. Surely this can wait another few hours."
"No, this time it can't. Please believe me when I say it's urgent." Normal guards would simply do as they were told, but the Nighthawks, as her own personal guard, put her safety first before simply obeying anything ordered by their Queen.
At length, all was ready and fourteen horses rode beneath the city gates covertly. Nasuada had only told Elva what was really happening, and all the Nighthawks riding with her were on high alert despite being told all was well. But then, that was why they were the best. Garven had tried to discover the exact nature of their escapade beyond the city walls, but Nasuada was determined not to tell them yet.
She spared a brief thought of sympathy for the men; it was obviously far from easy for them to be doing this, and she did regret the strain it was causing them. Jörmundur hadn't even been told of her leaving the city. She had been sure to dispatch a courier that would give him the message when he woke. He was sure to be angry with her, but she couldn't really focus on that right now.
Murtagh. Even the name affected her. It brought back memories of both good and bad, but mostly good. She remembered watching him and Thorn flying away after that last battle. He'd said he'd be back, but always there was the thought that he might not.
She hadn't expected to have grown so close to him during her confinement and subsequent torture in Urû'baen, but ever since then, he'd held a special place in her heart. It had been a little over three years since she'd last seen him. Too long.
Dawn was beginning to lighten the eastern sky when she felt the touch of his mind against hers again. She ordered her party off the road and when they would no longer be seen by passers-by halted.
She trusted the Nighthawks explicitly, yet only told them a little of why they were out in the countryside before the sun had even risen. Only that she was meeting someone she hadn't seen in a long time and that its unexpected nature was the cause of their hasty departure.
And that she would only be taking Elva with her from this point onwards.
There was much opposition to this. The girl may be able to warn her of danger and save her from many things, but she does not have the strength to truly stop something from hurting her. Not as the Nighthawks were capable of protecting their Queen in any case.
Yet Nasuada stood firm and the Nighthawks were forced to yield.
She was certain she'd be safe. As many times as her personal guard had saved her Murtagh would be able to protect her far better. Riders always were strong with magic and even elves would be hard-pressed to defeat him with a blade.
Besides, as she told them she'd only be a few hills over. As a sort of compensation to the men she allowed them the freedom to set up a loose perimeter between her destination, the road and Ilirea but ordered them to go no further North than her location nor venture too close. She didn't like to think how they'd react if they stumbled across Thorn.
She warned Murtagh of the Nighthawks movements and then set off with Elva over the first rise.
He was in the depression behind the second hill. As they drew closer he stepped away from the tree he'd been leaning against and separated from the shadows.
Nasuada gave her reins to Elva and hurriedly dismounted her horse; then she was running.
He came out to meet her and then they were in each other's arms. She flung her arms around his neck and he wrapped his strong arms around her and buried his face in the crook of her neck. It was many moments before he realised he was holding her up off the ground.
He hadn't expected the welcome to be so warm but he couldn't think about what that meant. All he cared about was this girl in his arms.
He set her down gently, neither completely releasing their hold of the other.
He looked in her eyes, drank in the sight of her face again and ran a hand over her hair. Her face had changed little, she was only nearing her mid-twenties and his memory had stayed true. Yet there was a difference in her.
When he'd first met her in Farthen Dûr she'd had the bearing of a noble girl, even a princess. Later when he truly came to care for her she'd been a great leader but now she had the true bearings of a Queen. In the soft dawn light he was sure he'd never seen anything so beautiful or so precious has her standing before him.
Neither had spoken, the moment did not call for it.
He saw a small smile upon her lips as she reached up and gently stroked some of his dark hair from his face. Her hand moved to cup his cheek and jawline, and then she was kissing him.
It was just a gentle pressure against his lips but his world condensed to her. Holding her tighter against him she again wrapped her arms around the back of his neck and continued the kiss, though more deeply than before.
It was only after that they remembered Elva was still there with the horses. But she had gone off a little further and sat facing another direction to give them some privacy. Just as Thorn and Murtagh had closed their connection before Nasuada had come into sight.
Murtagh gave a fierce and happy grin to the ebony skinned girl in his arms. Though his feelings for her were strong he'd not dared hope for any reciprocation. Now he felt as though he could fly without even the use of magic.
Her expression was more gentle but her eyes still shone and her lips were curved "Murtagh," she said softly, again touching his cheek "Have you been well?"
They talked all while the sun rose, he recounted his adventures with Thorn and she told of what had happened in the kingdom, in HER kingdom, since he had left. He felt a rage when he learnt of the attempts on her life and how serious some had been. She hadn't executed those who were high in Galbatorix's court and with Eragon's assistance had freed them from their vows. He wasn't sure if he could've done that, particularly when some repaid her mercy with attempts on her life.
But then he supposed that it was one of the things that made her a good leader and that he himself would've been considered one of those who had to die. The thought was sobering.
They were sitting closely together against the trunk of the tree and holding hands when Elva approached them.
"Your guards grow restless Nasuada, they'll come regardless of your orders or my assurances soon." The young girl had been regularly contacting the Nighthawks to assure them that all was well but even so Nasuada hadn't expected to be given so much time.
"Of course. Thankyou Elva, I'll be there shortly." Elva's purple eyes were watchful as she looked at Murtagh and Nasuada, he felt as though she could see right to his soul. Only after she had turned away and begun walking back to the horses did Nasuada speak again. "What will you do now?"
He sighed "I suppose I must go either back up north, maybe even further this time or travel south to see if Eragon would welcome my company in his new home for the riders." He looked off into the distance as he spoke, his brow furrowed. He didn't even realised he was stroking her thumb lightly with his as their fingers were intertwined.
She thought quickly "Stay for today." He turned to her with some surprise "I have a mirror in Ilirea that I can speak to Eragon through, you could talk to your brother yourself."
"I would have to leave Thorn out here alone, I don't like that." He thought some more "I would have to change my appearance magically too. There would be hell to pay if anyone recognised me." He said with a wry smirk. Nasuada sat quietly while he mulled it over, watching various expressions upon his face. "I have spoken with Thorn" he said at last "he advises me to go."
Truthfully Thorn would be fine alone; he was more than capable of taking care of himself. Murtagh was anxious to leave him but more than that was the apprehension of entering the city and being amongst those who hated him.
But now that he was with her he was loath to part from Nasuada, and that's what caused him to agree.
Nasuada smiled once more at him and got to her feet without either relinquishing a hold of their hands. As Murtagh stood up he and Thorn spoke further through their mental link. Thorn was telling him to stay a few days in the city.
The red dragon didn't want to be parted from his rider but he knew how much his most precious person had missed the female and thought it'd be best for him to linger with her for a while longer. He said some other things to which Murtagh had replied that humans are NOT as forward or as casual as dragons in regard to that matter.
None-the-less Murtagh agreed to stay in the city for a few days. Thorn would stay close by most of the time so as to be reachable by mental contact but would otherwise stay to himself for that time.
Nasuada was very pleased with the situation, she joined Elva and begun to ride towards he guards while Murtagh went to place spells on Thorn and say goodbye personally. Thorn put his head against his rider gently and sent a sense of calm through to help alleviate some of Murtagh's stress. He was sure it would be a good thing for him to be with Nasuada-female-Queen and speak to his half-brother Eragon.
The spell was one of concealment, to hide Thorn while he was on the ground and taking off and dispel when he was high enough to be safe from recognition as anything more than a hawk. Due to the distance from his resting place to Ilirea the energy for the magic would be coming from his own body.
Nasuada and Elva were waiting for the last of the Nighthawks who'd been keeping a perimeter when Murtagh came over to join them. He'd let her know mentally that it was him just before he'd come into sight and she'd told the Nighthawks to let him pass. It was unsettling to see him with a change in appearance, yet it really wasn't that much. He'd lightened his hair, that was the most obvious thing. It gave him a strangely golden look along with his natural tan. His eyes had remained the same though and she was glad of it. His nose, jawline and cheekbones were subtly changed too though she could still see the shadow of his true features in them. All in all it was decidedly unnerving.
The nighthawks watched him carefully with hard eyes as he walked into their midst to stand beside the horse their Queen was on. But Nasuada trusted him and Elva seemed to view him as no threat so they did nothing more than look.
Now with the eyes of the Nighthawks on them Nasuada and Murtagh instinctively didn't continue the intimacy they'd shared when in private. But there was still a closeness about them that few of her guards missed.
So that he would have a horse to ride back to the city Elva hopped on in front of Nasuada, the slight girl barely added any weight to the horse. They made their way back to the capital quickly and with very little talk.
The gates to the city were open and busy, thronged with people entering and leaving the city. Even if she put her cowl up the Nighthawks were highly recognisable and they couldn't hope to slip into the city unseen as they had slipped out.
Before they'd even reached the gate people had begun to move aside to let the Queen through. Murtagh watched the smiles and whispers of the common folk and salutes of the soldiers, her people loved her. How out of place he was in her world.
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A/N The second installment will be up in the next few days.