Disclaimer: I own my fantasies, I do not own Eragon...or Murtagh :(
A/N: This is meant to be a one shot centering around Murtagh, it is going to stay a oneshot.
Silent Redemption
A man sat atop his horse, pride seeping through his every movements. You could barley make out his face,with the trees only let out a slight sliver of unearthly glow yet, you could still see the hardness of his jaw ,the stiffness of his movements.
He had thought the ride would be a pleasant diversion,but all he could muster was hate of everything around him. It had been easy, child's play, to control his beast's mind,and settle her for the journey. His thoughts could not be so easily put to rest. The recent turn in events had unsettled him,and his back still ached from his master's fury.
He was now ready to call his true mount, his one and only friend in a sea of darkness but before he had touched his partner's mind he heard a rustle,a movement in the trees above. He grinned and opened his mind to all things around him.
He could sense the being's presence in his mind. It had an inch of wisdom, for it was trying to block him out. The attempt was feeble though, compared to his master of skill. It was also clever, reasoning it could not fight him off mentally it tried to gain as much distance from the man. He smirked knowing it's plan of action before it could even put it to use. He decided, whilst beckoning his horse on, not to end the thing's life in an instant. He would play with it, confuse it's inferior mind,and then kill it. He was bitter,and the being had strayed to far. Normally he was not this cruel, he was, if not kind, merciful. All that lay behind him now.
To properly play the game he had to set restrictions. No magic,of course. He would stay on his current excuse of a mount. The thing was now a long ways away,bounding from tree to tree, seeming to know exactly were to stop to avoid the perilous weak spot in the branches.
The man raised his bow,from where he sat he could tell were it's heart was. The weakest point. In half a moment he resealed the bow with a twang,but the being saw it coming. It once again tried to escape,but it was leg was still caught in his trap. It's next bound was imprecise,and poorly misjudged. The tree limb could not support it's weight and came down with the being. The thing landed crumpled near the base of a large oak.
The Rider quickly unmounted his steed,and glanced at its prey. It was human,and he turned it over looking at the pitiful unmoving form. He grimaced, looking at the wounds he had inflicted. The girl had a mob of wispy brown hair,and deeply tanned skin. She was wearing baggy men's clothes,and her feet were bare. He stared transfixed at twitching leg with his arrow lodged deep inside.
As he looked at her fragile frame he was overrun at emotion, "There really isn't anything different between my father and I is there?", he muttered. He knew know what his master would have him do, she wasn't an elf, she wasn't his concern. He leaned over her and swiftly unlogged the arrow from her leg. He slipped off his gloves and whispered,"Waise heill."
He remounted his steed,and beckoned it onward. This time his composure was straight backed and proud even has his friend whispered, "Fool," in his head. Thorn didn't understand why he had to prove himself different from father when none else would notice.
