I swore I would never write a song-fic, but alas… This song just screamed Murtagh, and I hadn't much else to do. It is set just after Oromis' death in Brisingr. The song is 'my demise' by Wednesday13. I don't own the Inheritance cycle or Wednesday13, but I do own a copy of the album, weird person that I am. If only I could make it work for a SexPistols song…

There's a crack in the frame

But the photo is the same

But I don't recognize the face

Murtagh punched the mirror, not wanting to look at it any longer. It shattered easily, like his life. He left the blood to trickle down his hand, not bothering to heal his torn knuckles. He began to pace the room, caught his reflection in a shard of glass, and then stamped on it, leaving it as nothing more than dust under his boot. He was the last the last person he wanted to look at.

It looks a lot like me, or who I used to be

Now there's no-one but myself to blame

'Murtagh, do not blame yourself, it is not your fault' Thorn insisted.

'I killed him, didn't I?' he snapped.

'You did not want to' Thorn could be really persistent when he wanted to. Persistent, hah, stubborn was more like it. 'It is not you fault' the dragon told him again. "Shut up Thorn!" he reverted to speaking out loud due to sheer frustration.

Now the shadows are all around

Mine's nowhere to be found

He wasn't even sure if he could still call himself human anymore. He had taken so many lives, and he saw them all, heard their choked last words and dying screams in his sleep. Could the puppet be worse than the puppet master?

Pull the wings off a fly

Watch it suffer and die

He watched the insects fly around his room, knowing they would all die within a day. If only life would be so simple for him. To be here one day and gone the next. Maybe he could…'Murtagh!' Thorn screeched in his mind, 'do not think like that. Have you lost your mind?'

"Perhaps" Murtagh mused, picking up a shard of his mirror.

And I'll never get out of this life alive

Drenched in blood with no alibi

'I've killed so many- is this not what I deserve?' he turned the shard over in his hands, considering where to strike: the wrists, the neck, either would work. 'I will not allow such a thing!' Thorns thoughts boomed in his mind.

And the crowd goes wild at my demise

"Nobody would even care; nobody but you"

'Then if you will not hold on for yourself, do so for me. This will not fix anything.' There was a pleading quality to the dragon's words now, just enough so to pull Murtagh out of his current state of mind. He dropped the shard and replaced it with a bottle of whiskey.

Though this bottle I can see

My friends and enemies

As they turn their backs to me

"Nobody would even care" he repeated. Then he sighed, pulling the cap off the bottle. Thorn laid his head down beside his rider's legs, carefully dusting aside any glass before hand. "Not my friends- hah, what friends- not my enemies, unless happiness counts, not even my fucking brother" he continued. Then, unexpected by even the dragon, he turned and threw the bottle full force at the opposite wall. Collapsing in a fit of sobs, he buried his face in his hands and sunk into a sitting position.

But who's really to blame

Myself or just my name

"I never asked for any of this. I could not have possibly done anything to deserve this." He sobbed, throwing his head back against the wall behind him. 'Fate is cruel' the dragon sighed, pressing his snout against his rider.

"I wish there were something more we could do about it..."

But in the end I can't win

"…But you can't really argue with fate."