A/N: Hey. Yeah, yeah. So the prologue was short! And thanks to those who reviewed! Really, thanks a lot! Me appreciates it!! Okay, so here is the ACTUAL first chapter. Please bear with me on the descriptions and don't skip over them.

Warning: drug references

Chapter 1- Cigars

Nasuada lay sprawled on the floor, dead. Her head was lolled to the side, and her ebony skin glittered in the candlelight. All in all, she was flat out deceased.

At least to her kids.

Ten year-old AJ and two year-old Rosie held hands and circled around their mother's corpse. As if they were conducting an ancient ritual, the two chanted, "Mommy, mommy, come alive. Mommy, mommy, come alive. Mommy, mommy, come alive!"

Nasuada's eyes shot wide open, manic appearing. She snapped into the sitting position and shook her outstretched arms. "Rawr!"

AJ, trying to look bored, bit his cheek so he wouldn't smile, while his baby sister squealed excitedly and ran out of their mother's room and into the long hallway, her chubby baby legs toddling along.

Nasuada stood up and grinned menacingly as she saw her son.

"Shoot," muttered AJ, his voice cracking. "Rosie, baby, wait for me!" He dashed out of his mother's sight.

Nasuada stomped like a zombie down through the hallway, chuckling inwardly as she clutched onto her giggling baby girl.

Rosie tried to escape her mother's fingers, but she failed and lay limp in Nasuada's hands, giggling hysterically, her adrenaline rush subsiding. "Mommy! No fair! You suppose to get AJ!"

Nasuada chuckled wholeheartedly. "I caught you! You're the dead mommy now, Rosie."

"Dead Mommy," as the game was obviously called, was something AJ had made up when he was just a little older than Rosie's current age.

Rosie smiled excitedly and lay on the floor spread-eagled, closing her eyes and sticking out her tiny tongue. Everything about her was tiny, despite the fact she was tall for her age.

"AJ!" hollered Nasuada down the hall. "I've caught Rosie! Get your ass down here!"

Rosie's eyes grew wide. "Mommy said a bad word."

"Yes, well, daddy says bad words all the time," said Nasuada.

AJ jogged to his family and held hands with his mother, surrounding Rosie's baby body.

"Mommy, mommy, come alive. Mommy, mommy, come alive. Mommy, mommy come alive!"

Rosie reenacted Nasuada's previous actions, and AJ let himself be tagged. He lay down on the floor, his eyes closed.

"Haha," teased Nasuada lovingly. "AJ's a girl now! He's a mommy!"

"Shut up," barked AJ, though he was grinning at his mother's mocking.

Rosie started giggling again, and the game began anew, but just as AJ stood up to tag his mother, footsteps echoed down the bright hall. All three pricked their ears.

"Daddy's here!" cried Rosy. She toddled over to her father as fast as her little legs and cloth diaper would allow her. "Daddy! Daddy!"

AJ strutted up to his father coolly.

"Hey, baby, how are you today?" asked Murtagh to his youngest. His eyes were tired; purplish-blue bags marred his pale face. He had been downstairs on a meeting the whole morning and afternoon. No one knew yet what the gathering was about, other than the people who attended it. Murtagh scooped up his toddler and hugged her, resting her on what would be a hip if men had any.

"Hey, dad," said AJ, smiling.

"Hi, AJ. How long have you been awake?"

"Since about seven-thirty," responded the preteen. "Pretty boring day, what with Arflin in Dras Leona and Garrow in the market."

Murtagh frowned. "Why didn't you go browse the shops with your cousin? I'm sure he wouldn't mind; you two are close."

AJ shrugged. "I'm feeling lazy today."

"Ah," chuckled Murtagh. "I see." He ruffled his son's buzz cut black hair and examined the boy.

Ajihad, or AJ for short, seemed to be growing everyday. He was tall for his age, just like Rosie, and lanky, just like Murtagh was as a preteen. He had his mother's hair, though he didn't have much of it; he preferred his hair short and out of his eyes. His skin was a mixture of Nasuada's and Murtagh's: dark but not ebony, but in fact much, much lighter. The exact shade of light brown in between his parent's skin tones. He inherited Nasuada's fine, petite nose, Murtagh's thin lips, and his beautiful white smile. Though Nasuada was dominant in his facial features, he had Murtagh's mulish personality and expressions.

Rosie, on the other hand, was the spitting image of her father. Her skin was not nearly as pale, but it appeared as if she had a constant, smooth tan. Her olive skinned glowed, and Murtagh already knew that fourteen years in the future he would be knocking quite a few boys' heads.

"Rough day?" asked Nasuada as she meandered to her husband and gave him a quick kiss and a hug, squishing Rosie in the process, who was clinging to her father. She was longer as flat from breastfeeding, and her hips had become somewhat larger. Murtagh did not mind; in fact, he rather liked it.

"Not rough, just exhausting," replied Murtagh with a yawn. "They wondered why you weren't there today."

"I know, but I couldn't leave the kids again for countless hours down in the meeting room." She smiled sweetly, her eyes as worn out as her husband's. "I was suffering from love deprivation."

Murtagh smirked. "Love deprivation? Well, I understand. I told them you had a raging headache, and you couldn't get out of bed, but judging by the noise and roughhousing you hoodlums are causing-" he eyed his children in mock accusation, "-I say the alibi wasn't believed."

"No," laughed Nasuada. "Probably not. We were playing Dead Mommy."

"Ah, yes, that one," said Murtagh. "Which game is that again?"

Nasuada sighed. "Spend more time with your kids, Price Tag. They're starting to miss you."

Murtagh's expression immediately turned ashamed. "I'm sorry. I try, you know that, but work…"

"I know, Murtagh. I know. I'm the queen, remember? I work too. Yet I manage to bond with my children a great deal anyways." Murtagh nodded, knowing it best not to argue in such situations.

"Hey, dad?" prodded AJ suddenly.

"Yes, son?"

"Can I have some money to go to the market and meet Garrow?"

Murtagh stuffed his hand in his pocket and pulled out some spare gold. "Here, this should be plenty."

AJ's eyes lit up, the greedy thing. Always trying to scandal his old man out of some extra change. He dashed down the stairs of their palace's top floor (the floor in which the royal family lived upon; no business was aloud to be negotiated up there, nor were other people other than the royal family themselves permitted unless permission had been given by the king or queen.) He continued to spiral down two stories until he was on the first of three layers in the palace by the sea.

The palace was quite beautiful, nestled right by the gentle waves and green water of the Beirland Sea. The exterior was a marble blue, but so many windows - Nasuada's doing - cut through the walls that there was hardly any wall left. Light filtered through every possible nook and cranny, other than the meeting room and similar places that needed to remain windowless, soundproof, and confidential. The elves, dwarves, and humans that resided in the nearby villages of Belatona, Feinster, Dauth (though it was in Surda,) and Melian flocked to Arough, the new capital by the water, just to view the castle, or better known as the "Glass Palace." The name came from the fact there were more glass skylight than there was marble wall. They hoped they could catch a little glimpse of movement through the glass, to hopefully see a royal family member attending their daily business.

Rosie, her fat baby arms still wrapped around her father's neck, huffed as her mother embraced her father tightly again, only this time Nasuada did not let go for a few moments. "Momma!" she gasped. "I can't breathe!"

"Sorry, baby," chuckled Nasuada, kissing her daughter's chubby cheek. "You wanted to be held by daddy, so you must suffer the consequences."

Rosie glared at her mother and screwed up her face in a pout. "I want daddy to play Dead Mommy with us!"

"But baby," muttered Murtagh. "I don't know how."

"I show you!" jumped Rosie happily. She grinned and tugged at her father's hair. "I show you!"

"Later, hun," said Nasuada. She held out her arms and transferred Rosie from Murtagh's hip to her fuller one. It was immensely easier for a baby to sit on their mother's hip than their father's, simply because of the way women were built. "Tag, have Rochelle go to Arough's market and pick up a few groceries." An idea struck her. "Actually, how about you go? Bond with your son a little!"

Murtagh tapped his foot, The look on his wife's face was kind, as if she was only suggesting that he should go to the market. But he knew his wife better than that. Nasuada made no suggestions.

"Fine, I'll go. What do you need to pick up?"

"Five mangos, one head of cabbage, a pound of carrots, three onions, a few pineapples, -and make sure they're ripe, Murtagh- some paprika, salt, pepper, cloth diapers, and a few other things the main kitchen out of." She handed him two lists: the one the head cook had given her the previous morning, and the list of personal items for the family, such as diapers, soap, etc.

Murtagh gaped at the lists. "Bloody hell! I…um…"

Nasuada arched an eyebrow. "Do you want Rochelle to go with you?"

"I…uh…yes."

"I'll take the lists, deary," said Rochelle. Although they had always been close, a special bond developed between Murtagh, Rochelle, and Roran ever since she healed Murtagh down in the torture chambers that fateful day.

"Thanks, Shelly," gasped Murtagh in relief, still staring open mouthed at the countless items jotted down on the parchment. He shoved the paper to her and handed her his coin purse, which was plenty of money to buy the whole damn market.

"Go find AJ, your majest- I mean, Price Tag."

Murtagh smiled. Neither he or Nasuada wore their crowns unless on special occasions. They wore typical attire, even if their clothes were somewhat nicer than the average peasant. They only garbed themselves in the exceptionally expensive clothing when it was necessary for appearances. Thus, they did not stand out as the celebrities they were in Alagaesia. Most of the city of Arough recognized them anyways, but most Aroughians didn't care much, for they saw their king so often it was second nature to them to treat him like any other person (when he wore regular clothes.)

"I wonder if AJ has found Garrow yet," thought Murtagh aloud.

Rochelle shrugged. "Probably not. Arough is packed today."

AJ stumbled through the city, desperately trying to escape the cluster of bodies in the overflowing market. Tourists (mostly bumbling humans) polluted the stalls, coming to see the Glass Palace, most likely: Nasuada's architectural masterpiece that somehow ended up a world monument. It always surprised AJ that the Aroughians did not care about the hundreds of tourists. In fact, the small city seemed somewhat proud. Who would have thought such a tiny town would have come so prosperous?

AJ, feeling somewhat claustrophobic, slipped into a dark, empty alleyway. It was long and narrow, unnoticed by the countless civilians swarming the streets. AJ, grateful for the spacious release, stalked farther and farther into its depths. Where is Garrow? He continued walking, but he halted as he saw three stooped figures huddled together about five feet in front of him.

The three, obviously young dwarves, were muttering under their breath and passing a small box around. One of them noticed AJ, and he alerted his buddies.

AJ stood there, terrified. The looks on the dwarves faces were menacingly warm. The three strutted up to him.

"Hey," greeted the center dwarf, who was obviously the leader. "Who are you?"

"A…J," stuttered AJ.

"AJ, eh? That short for something?"

"Er…yes, Ajihad."

The dwarf's eyes lit up at the name. "You're Murtagh's boy, aren't you?"

"Yes," mumbled AJ.

All three dwarves had a dangerously charming glint in their eyes.

"What are you doing in the market, boy?" asked the leading dwarf.

"Looking for my cousin," said AJ, gaining confidence by the moment. "I am searching for Garrow Roransson."

"You're cousin, eh? Does he protect you?"

"He's younger than me," barked AJ, clearly offended.

"Woah, woah, no need to take the defensive. Tell me, AJ, have you ever heard of cigars?"

"Cigars?" said AJ, interested. "It rings a bell. What are they?"

The dwarves grinned. They found a perspective buyer. A rich perspective buyer. "The most delicious things in the world." The dwarf flanking the leader on the right handed his buddy the silhouette of a box. The main dwarf lifted off the lid, and revealed the contents - five large brown cigars - to AJ.

AJ reached for them, but the dwarf withdrew the box jestingly. "You want them?" he cooed.

AJ nodded.

"They're not free, boy. They come with a price." The dwarf smirked greedily.

AJ pursed his thin lips. "How much?"

The dwarf tapped his lip. "15 crowns."

"Bloody hell! 15 crowns! What are you, insane?"

"15 crowns or no deal." The dwarf examined AJ thoughtfully. "Like I said, all the fashionable kids smoke these things. 15 or no deal."

AJ frowned. This guy was probably taken advantage of the fact he was unbelievably wealthy. But then, he wanted to blend in. He stuffed his hand in his trousers and pulled out 15 golden crowns and handed them over.

"Thank'ee." The dwarf handed AJ the cigars and demonstrated how to use them. "You just suck and puff, like I showed you. But don't breathe too long, you'll choke. And don't let your daddy see, all right? He might get jealous and want all the fun for himself."

AJ took the cigars out of the box, tucked them into his tunic, dumped the box, thanked the dwarf, and casually walked out of the alleyway.

"Sucker," laughed the lead dwarf.

"Hey," said the dwarf on his left. "Don't you think when King Murtagh discovers who sold the kid the junk he'll personally beat the shit out of us?"

The leading dwarf shrugged. "He won't be able to find us. It was too dark; the kid couldn't make out our characteristics, and there are plenty of dwarves in Arough. We'll do fine."

AJ struggled through the mass of people, trying to find his cousin. He kept in mind what the dwarf said about keeping the cigars a secret, and a suspicion stirred within him. After hours of searching, he ran into Murtagh.

"AJ!" exclaimed his father. "I have been looking all over for you."

"Hi, dad," said AJ. "Why have you been searching for me?"

Murtagh shrugged. "Just wondering where you were, that's all."

AJ's face darkened. "Dad, I am not a little kid anymore!"

Murtagh frowned. "I never said you were, AJ. Lighten up, okay son? Now, do you want to get a bite to eat?"

"Sure." They scooted their way through the endless people until they squeezed into a line for freshly plucked cherries. After about ten minutes, they purchased their fruit and headed to Rochelle.

Poor Rochelle was overwhelmed by the massive list Nasuada had given her. "Why did you send me?" she snapped. "Do you not have people you pay to get your groceries!"

Murtagh shifted in false guilt. "I'm sorry, Shelly. I'll tell Nasuada you are strictly the nanny."

Rochelle's round face and brown hair were damp with a thin sheet of sweat as she carried the heavy load from the vegetable stall.

"Here," said Murtagh. "AJ and I will take those. We'll bring them to the palace."

"Thanks," breathed Rochelle.

Murtagh nodded, and AJ smiled sweetly. "Bye, Shelly," chimed the youngest.

"Bye, hun," said Rochelle.

Murtagh and AJ stumbled to the castle surrounded by a grassy yard, accidentally releasing a few pieces of food along the way. "Just leave them," groaned Murtagh.

Alas, after what felt like an eternity, they arrived in the palace's main kitchen.

Gaylord, the head cook, grinned widely in relief as the two men tossed their cargo onto a nearby white countertop. "Thank-you, your highnesses." He bowed.

"Damn, Gaylord, how many times have we told you people not to bow to us?"

Gaylord bowed again. "At least twenty times, sire."

"Then why do you insist on doing so?"

Gaylord stared at the floor. "Forgive me, sire."

Murtagh shrugged nonchalantly. "I shall allow it this time, but if you do it again, I'll have your head!" he said jokingly.

The problem with being a king, however, was that everything you said was taken seriously.

Gaylord's eyes grew wide.

Murtagh chuckled slightly. "I was only kidding, Gaylord. I do not mind if you bow."

Gaylord grinned nervously. "Thank-you, milord."

Murtagh sighed and headed to the third floor, beckoning AJ to follow suit. The two walked up to the family area of the castle. "So how has your day been?" asked Murtagh as he pounced onto the couch, kicking his feet up as he leaning back. He put his hands behind his head and closed his eyes.

"Okay, I guess. Everyone I know has been busy all week."

"Everyone? You know many people, AJ."

"I know," huffed the son. "But I'm still too lazy to do anything today."

"How is your swordplay coming?"

"…Okay."

Murtagh's eyes shot up as he heard AJ's tone of voice. He turned his neck to see his son slumped on the loveseat, his face depressed.

"What do you mean, 'all right?' Your sword master told me you were developing beautifully and remarkably quick!"

AJ's lips twitched some. "Yes," he sighed. "But I'll never be as good as you, dad. You are amazing."

Murtagh studied his son for a slight moment. "You know something, son? When I was your age all I cared about was pulling pranks. I couldn't use a weapon properly if my life depended on it."

AJ gazed at his father, a ray of hope in his eyes. "Really?"

"Really. I think I was about eleven when I started fencing. Then I hit the age where all I cared about was women. Tornac, my old instructor, could never keep my attention. I was too busy imagining who I would snog next."

AJ, surprisingly, laughed. "You were like that? I never would have guessed."

"It's was only for a few months; dueling was always where my true love stood. I just never understood that until I learnt more complex moves, and by that time I was so preoccupied by my fencing lessons that I completely forgot about women."

AJ arched an eyebrow. "What about mom? She caught your eye."

"Took a bloody long time and the interference of my little brother before we ever admitted anything. Well, I suppose my brother didn't have anything to do with it…" He trailed off, lost in thought.

"Hold on," shot AJ. "You have a brother? I thought I didn't have any extended family other than Roran and my cousins."

Murtagh stared at the floor. Did he just let slip that he had a blood brother? Yes, he did. Why had he brought this upon himself! He hated mentioning Eragon. Hated it. What was he thinking? Of course AJ wouldn't remember Eragon! He moved away to some forsaken land with his elf girl six years ago, leaving not only his family heartbroken but also Thorn.

Poor Thorn. He was madly in love with Saphira. They were inseparable. The ruby dragon could never stop thinking about her. So, naturally, they mated.

Saphira lay a navy egg, which still refused to hatch to this day. She became pregnant with a second egg, but she left with Eragon across the sea before she could bear it. Thorn had never seen his second child, nor did he know whether it was still incased in its egg or not.

Murtagh was bitter about Eragon's departure. He had stabbed so many hearts the day he abandoned them, and Saphira went with him, of course.

Thorn, six years later, still held a love for her and a deep, hidden depression for the lack of her presence.

Murtagh sighed. Why not tell the boy the truth? He had a right to know if he had an uncle. "Yes, AJ, I have a brother, but I prefer not to talk about him."

"Why?" inquired the child, who, in his eagerness to hear his father's tale, had deserted the loveseat and now sat on his old man's legs. "Did you two get in a fight?"

"No," muttered Murtagh. "He just… he left, and it made everyone really… upset."

"How upset?"

"Really upset, AJ. I don't know how to explain it. An unusual misery. Picture your mother's funeral. How would you feel, knowing you would never see her again?"

AJ imagined the circumstance, and his eyes grew glassy. "Terrible."

"Well, that's what it felt like, " said Murtagh briskly. "Anyway, he left, everyone grew sad, but by now most have recovered, and that is the end of it."

"What was his name?" asked AJ.

Murtagh's gaze grew distant and unfocused. "Eragon," he said, thinking back on the times he spent with the boy. "Eragon Shadeslayer."

AJ gaped. "The Great Shadeslayer is my… uncle?"

Murtagh nodded. "He and Princess Arya sailed away into the sunset, six years ago. Now, can we not talk about him, please?" He made a motion to stand up. "If you need me, I'll be in the Dragon Hold." He stuck his nose in the air and swiftly walked down to Thorn's shelter in the backyard.

AJ stared at the steps his father spiraled down a few minutes earlier, speechless. "What did I say?" he asked the air. When he received no response, he huffed and plucked out a cigar, examining it. "Now, let's see if you're as much fun as those dwarves said you are." And with that, he headed to his room.

A/N: Hey! I hope it wasn't too boring. As I was typing it I was thinking, "wow. This is lame." So, anyway, I hope you liked it. And NO, this is not an OC centered story. The first few chapters are just of Murtagh and AJ bonding, but then the plot kicks up and Murtagh is the main person (of course.) Limh, I promise there won't be as many near death experiences in this story!

Please review! I need to know what you think about it! Because I don't really think I should continue with this, I found the first chapter to be kinda lame. So you have to let me know if I should. Hmmm… I'll update in… tenish reviews? Limh, I know. I'm picky, but either I've been updating faster of people just haven't been hitting the little review button like they used to…

I hope you tolerated the description. And yes, Eragon WILL be in this story. ANd I've left a lot of unanswered question, but it will all be cleared up soon.

Random Facts: Dead Mommy is an actual game my siblings play. I have to give my sister the honor for creating such an awesome little kids game she invented. I thought it was pretty clever for a 5 year old... and Rosie is based off of my OTHER little sister Katie. lol actually evrything about Rosie's personality is Katie. I just thought it would make it more realistic. Katie is effing hilarious.