The Inheritance Trilogy belongs to Christopher Paolini.
Murtagh was lost in thought. As hard as it was to believe, he had learned to care for this woman who simply strolled into his room and became his friend.
"She is not just some girl," his mind screamed. Murtagh shook his head. She was a princess of the Varden and he was a son of a Forsworn. Of all things he could have been, he was related to the man who led to the near destruction of all of the dragons. Trying to think positively, he knew that he and Nasuada would not have met if it were not for the fact he was Morzan's son. He shuddered at the word Morzan, the word that had condemned him to one of the hardest lives on Alagaësia.
He tried to concentrate on the book. It was rather interesting, but his thoughts kept him from concentrating. He turned as he heard the door open. He saw Nasuada, standing there in all of her glory. Murtagh could not help but smile at her beauty, her seemingly naïve innocence, and just everything about her. Today, more than ever, she looked happy and excited to say something.
"Welcome back, my lady Nasuada," he said, smiling and standing once more. He pulled out the second chair for Nasuada to sit in, but she pushed it away. Murtagh felt disappointed that their meeting would be short. He enjoyed their conversations and treasured them word for word.
"There is no time for small talk, Murtagh. The Urgals are approaching," Nasuada said as she grabbed his hand. Murtagh did not try to stop her as she took him out of his room. He was not focused for a moment, enjoying the feel of Nasuada's hand on his. He held back a shiver and looked into her eyes, wondering what she meant by her actions.
"Am I to battle, lady Nasuada? Do the Varden trust me not to turn around and slaughter Eragon? Or is this a way to get rid of another unwanted prisoner?" Nasuada frowned, making Murtagh feel bad. Had he insulted her?
"Do you feel that you can battle? Do you truly believe in the cause of the Varden? My father would not send you out there unless he had some trust in you. He knows that I visit you often." Nasuada seemed to wait for a response from him. He had a bad feeling that if he were to leave and battle, something horrible would happen. Anyway, the Varden would probably kill him because he was the son of a Forsworn. Why must he be labeled by his father?
"It is the Varden who is not ready for me," he finally said, "I am the son of Morzan, and they have not forgotten that too soon. Even if I were to battle, I would never gain their trust. At one point, they had all trusted Morzan. What did they get in return? Pain and misery was all they received. The fury of Zar'roc was not misnamed in those times." Nasuada did not seem to understand and sighed. Had he let her down in some way?
"Why do you do this to yourself, Murtagh? You are his son, not Morzan himself," Nasuada said. "I trust you, and the Varden would not dare to go against the word Aijhad's daughter." Murtagh looked up once more into her eyes, and saw Nasuada smile in response. Maybe she did care about him in some way. Maybe he was, for once, not viewed as a son but as a being on his own. Even Eragon seemed to not trust him as much once he had revealed his secret.
"You trust me, my lady?" he asked.
"Of course," Nasuada replied, sounding surprised that it was not that obvious, "You have not hurt me or Eragon at all. You have been nothing but kind to me and you saved Eragon's life. It is not like you would give in to Galbatorix if he took you. You would keep us safe. I do trust you. Do you trust me enough to go out to battle?" Nasuada put one hand on the door and began to open it.
"I trust you, lady Nasuada. I trust you with all my heart," he stepped forward, impulsively, and went down on one knee. Taking her hand, he kissed it as the soldiers do to their liege lords, or in this case lady. She seemed to become unfocused for a moment, but straightened herself out again.
"I am sorry for doubting your word at all. I would be more than honored to fight for the Varden. If there was any reason to fight at all, it would be for you." She smiled and blushed. More than ever, Murtagh wanted to hold Nasuada in his arms and just be there. He wanted to smell her and hold her in his arms. She looked so beautiful, blushing at his response. He knew he would do anything to be with her. Too soon, he found himself at the armory.
"Good luck, Murtagh," Nasuada said as she left him at the door, "I will see you after the battle." Murtagh watched as she turned around. He suddenly knew that this was the only opportunity. He knew that he cared for her a lot in a way that was not sisterly at all. He had a feeling that there was only one chance to prove it, and it was now.
"I love you," Murtagh said, looking into her eyes and taking advantage of what he believed was their last moment together. She did not respond, but hugged him. What did it mean? Did she return his love or was it a sign of friendship?
As he flew back from the battle on Thorn, he felt guilty. Had it been so wrong for him to leave her with such confused feelings? He was suffering from them himself.
'We have much to learn, young one. Maybe one day you will know,' Thorn whispered to him, fully aware of the memories and feelings his Rider felt. For the first time, Murtagh blocked his dragon out and thought to himself about what would have and could have happened.
Author's Note: If you have read Commotion, this is the same story in Murtagh's point of view. Commotion/Notion is the third in my trilogy of "In the Varden" Murtagh/Nasuada one shots. Wow – Murtagh's point of view is about 100 words longer than Commotion. I like writing as him more, I guess.