Author's note: I am NOT CP. If I were, this wouldn't be fanfiction. Murtagh and Morzan belong to CP. Raven and other random servants in the story probably belong to me. Thorn, though he is not in this chapter, also belongs to CP.

Secrets of Life

Chapter One

The Beginning

"Come back here, you little brat!"

Murtagh chanced a backward glance, then gulped and kept running. The six-year-old knew that of he could make it to the forest on the grounds, he would be safe. Ish. He also knew that his father's dragon could probably burn down the forest, but it was unlikely he would do that. To much attention.

As he ran, he thought about why he was running in the first place. His father had had a little too much wine earlier that evening, and now... Well...

He stumbled at the edge of the large wood, but kept running, knowing that there was small chance of him being caught if he could make it to the pines. He did, and pulled himself up the one he knew to climb. After he had gone up about two meters, Murtagh leaned back against the trunk, trying to slow his breathing, while he heard his father cursing at the edge of the wood.

Murtagh's father, Morzan, was rather paranoid about forests. Ever since he had nearly been ambushed in the Spine, he had hated everything to do with trees - the only reason the wood was still there was because the Hunter, who provided fresh meat and venison for them, lived there. Murtagh had never met the Hunter, and he didn't plan to, even though he ran to the woods whenever his father got drunk.

As if called up by the very thought of him, Morzan started getting louder. Closer. Murtagh realized that of he didn't want to get caught, he'd have to go further in. He leapt down from the tree, rolling to soften his fall, and ran deeper into the trees.

After several minutes, he finally came to a small clearing, with a huge, gnarled oak at the center. There was a small stream winding through the clearing to his right, and two large birds - falcons - were roosting in a young birch nearby. Murtagh suddenly felt something he had never felt before - safety. It was an unusual feeling to him, almost alien. He breathed in the scent of the trees, and walked up to the oak. It towered above him, golden leaves rustling in the wind.

That was when he noticed something else; a tune, as if someone - or something, he thought - were humming. A haunting melody that seemed to come from the tree itself. It made his spine tingle, that voice was so familiar, almost like his mother's. But it felt different somehow... Lighter and younger, filled with another quality, one he couldn't quite place. Then it stopped.

There was a loud rustling right above his head that made Murtagh jump.

Looking up, he saw - was that a girl?! The two stared at each other, and Murtagh was able to see details of this mysterious other. Shoulder-length raven colored hair framed an almost regal face, and gray eyes seemed to study him. He couldn't read the expression on her face, but he could tell that she was the voice he had heard. It just seemed to fit her. Then she spoke. Her words were light, curious, and seemed to make the trees whisper in an autumn wind.

"Who are you?"

"Murtagh," he replied, then, "And who are you?"

She smiled, then said, "You can call me Raven. My companion- " she said, pointing out a large shape on the branch above, " - is Maelstrom. He's not tame, but he won't bite, don't worry." The shape moved, and Murtagh could see thick, reddish brown fur, long legs, a long thick tail, sharp ears, and a narrow snout, as well as golden eyes that stared him down. A red wolf. Raven climbed down from her branch, and Murtagh could see that though she couldn't be any older than him, she was already a good hunter.

Dressed in a long-sleeved, dark green and brown shirt, thick brown fleece pants, and shin-high boots, she was also equipped with a small recurve bow, a quiver of arrows, two curved hunting knives and a boot knife. She had two belts, which he thought strange, as one was little more than a long, flexible strip of fine leather, with a wide front and thin straps. She also had a string of what looked like large pearls, but what he could see were actually small, but weighty spheres of pale marble, as well as a thinner chain, whose pendant was hidden in her shirt.

"Done examining me yet?" she said in a teasing voice.

"Sorry. I just don't see many girls without a skirt..." he trailed off, slightly abashed, and she laughed quietly.

"Why don't you sit down? Maelstrom will make sure we don't get invaded. You can tell me a little more about yourself, and I you," she offered, settling on one of the large roots herself, and nodding at the one across from her. Murtagh sat, slightly uncomfortable, but soon relaxing as they talked. He told her about his past: his mother who had died when he was three, his drunkard father, his mentor, Tornac, and everything else. Raven was a good listener.

When he finished, she in turn told him about herself. Apparently, she was a foundling, found by the Hunter barely a day old, and had grown up with him. And, she said, she had a twin brother out there somewhere, according to the note left with her. Murtagh couldn't help but wonder who would separate twins at such a young age, and why. After they had traded pasts, they talked a while, about little things and big thing, and Murtagh could feel himself relax.

Over the next two years, Murtagh and Raven grew close, as confidants and friends, Murtagh getting out of the grounds as often as he could, and Raven always there to help with whatever trouble he was in.

There came a day though, when Murtagh had run to the oak, and Raven was standing there, as always, but without her usual smile. In fact, she looked worried. She had a pack over one shoulder, and her quiver over the other. Her bay mare, Medea, was standing behind her, and Maelstrom was pacing around the clearing, hackles raised. When he saw Murtagh, he stiffened, then relaxed when he recognized the scent. There was another wolf there too, a long-legged, cloudy gray.

Raven beckoned him over, and then said, "The king's soldiers are looking for us. They think we're supporting the Varden, and we need to disappear. I wanted to give you a couple things before we left. First- " she reached into a small pocket in her belt. " -something to remember me by." she said, pulling out a thin leather band with a small wolf pendant, identical to her own, and then bringing forward the gray wolf, "I also wanted to give you a friend. This is Storm, Maelstroms sister, and she'll protect you for as long as she can, until you can either take care of yourself, or death takes her."

Storm looked at him, and a silent understanding past between Murtagh and the wolf. Raven looked at him one last time, and he nodded. "Will I see you again?" he asked, feeling almost childish asking the question. Raven smiled sadly. "I don't know, Murtagh. I just don't know."

With that, she mounted Medea, and then turned and galloped away, Maelstrom racing beside her, and leaving Murtagh feeling more alone then ever. The eight-year-old looked at the pendant, and then at Storm, then turned and trotted back the way he had come.

When they reached the small castle, he found several soldiers massed within the gates, and Murtagh wondered what was going on. Surely they didn't need that many soldiers to take down two hunters. Then he saw the flags. Jet-black, raised at half-mast, and he immediately knew what had happened. His father was dead.

So, whaddya think? Can you take a guess as to who Raven's twin is? IT'S TOO OBVIOUS, I KNOW. But hey, it's my story. I can make it as obvious as I like. At any rate, flames will be used to warm the cave-men, and con-crit is appreciated. If you see any grammar, spelling or story issues, please let me know!