A/N: I've only ever done Harry Potter fanfics, and one of my other loves is Eragon, so I thought I would do this little story. These are Eragon's thoughts while he is resting after the Battle of the Burning Plains at the end of Eldest. The battle where he found out that Murtagh had betrayed him. This is only the first chapter, there will be at least one more on Murtagh, and if you people review, maybe there will be more! So please review.

The song is called "Stand My Ground" by Within Temptation and I love this song. I think it works perfectly for my purposes.

!!WARNING!!: There is slight slash, but not actively, just internal feelings, so that means that there is incest. And some language. If you don't like slash, it was in the summery, so why are you reading this? And yes, I know they are brothers, but it is hard for me to see them that way, so if you don't like it, than don't read it.

Oh, and by the way, "words" means Saphira is talking, and "words" think Eragon is thinking.

All Eragon felt like doing was hiding; he couldn't believe his best friend, no, brother would do this to him. As he lay in his new sleeping quarters in the capital of Surda, he decided that he hated war, and would avoid it as much as possible.

"You know you can't just drop out of this war, Eragon, it isn't that easy. I know you are hurt, little one, but everything will turn out okay, you know that," Saphira inturrupted his private thoughts. She meant well, he knew that, but she wasn't helping!

"You know, Saphira, you aren't helping! I know that, but I don't think I could face him in battle again!" he replied angrily.

"I know, little one, I know," Saphira comforted.

Later that night, as Eragon lay in his unfamiliar bed, somehow missing the great trees of the elf kingdom, he felt as if nothing in his life was right, especially because nothing was happening. He felt things. Things he thought he had put behind him, and those feelings were killing him, haunting him constantly. He had worked so hard to move on, to not feel such disgusting things for a friend, a male friend, no less. No, now he was his brother, and felt even more wrong. He knew he shouldn't feel so heartbroken, but he couldn't help it, and the soft humming coming from Saphira, and her wing protecting him, was only small comfort.

I Can See
When You Stay Low
Nothing Happens
Does It Feel Right?
Late At Night
Things I Thought I'd Put Behind Me
Haunt My Mind

He knew there was no escaping this; this war, these feelings, but Gods did he want to. For some reason, the Gods had set their eyes on him, and he knew he couldn't deny his destiny, as corny as that sounds. He was destined to be a hero, a protecter, and maybe even a martyr, but he wasn't ready for this. Even so, he wouldn't run, he would stare he fate in the eyes, and not back down.

He was interrupted from his thoughts by Saphira. "That's a great attitude, Eragon. It's also a very different attitude from the one you had a few months ago. I'm proud of you."

"Thank you Saphira," Eragon replied.

I Just Know There's No Escape Now
Once It Sets It's Eyes On You
But I Wont Run
Have To Stare It In The Eyes

But now, with this knowledge, Eragon realized it might be easier to get over him, and thus be stronger. He just wished he could be normal, not such a freak. A freak who, besides all the horrible stuff he had just found out, still had disgusting, unnatural feelings for a brother he didn't know he had. Why? Why now? Why not before, before he had fallen in love?

"Eragon? Are you alright? Lady Nasuada wishes to see you," Arya said, not unkindly. She had acted surprisingly normal to him, regardless of his advances on her. She knows, he realized, that's why we're able to remain friends. Somehow, this didn't shock him, didn't scare him. Oromis had told him that elves knew love was just love, no matter for which gender. He scoffed at the prospect.

Eragon startled himself out of his personal thoughts and followed Arya to his mistress' tent. He looked out the surroundings of the battle, and smelled the smoke that this plain was famous for. But now the Burning Plains was the Bleeding Plains as well, for as Eragon looked out at the field, he saw red, wet ground, the soil soaked in the blood of the fallen.

They soon arrived at the desired tent, and as Eragon entered, he felt more than one set of eyes upon him. He avoided their no doubt suspicious gazes. He was the son of Morzan, how could they trust him now.

"Saphira! I need you with me; not in body, but spirit. They're going to interragate me," he yelled to his dragon, his best friend, and his other half nervously. She responded with a comforting hum and her infinate presence in their shared conciousness'.

"I suppose you know why you are here Eragon. We need to search your mind; you have been very helpful for us, but you are the son of Morzan, the Forsworn, and you have to prove yourself. We are here to help you do that," Lady Nasuada tried to reassure calmly, but he could here the distaste in his voice. She knew this was unneccesary, but it was regulation. They had to.

Eragon nodded, and as Trianna painfully probed his mind, he reluctantly let her to most of his thoughts, blocking those ones on Murtagh. They couldn't see those.

"He is clear. I see no treacherous thoughts. Of course, naturally there is a part of his mind blocked off," the magician said regretfully.

"You can't see that!! Those are my thoughts about my brother," he spat the word, as if it were the worst curse he could utter. All of a sudden, their faces relaxed. They understood his obvious anguish.

"I want to kill him!! I want to kill him for getting me attached to him, to see him as one of my few best friends, and then betraying me like that. It's time I took an active role in this war Lady Nasuada!! There are a lot of people who died in this battle, Hrothgar for example, that I need to avenge. And I need to protect my cousin and the rest of Carvahall. I need to start standing my ground. I refuse to give in!" Eragon bellowed, finally letting go all the sadness, hurt, and anger that had been simmering inside him since he realised it was Murtagh on the red dragon.

"Easy, little one," Saphira cautioned.

Once he was dismissed to his tent, he decided he needed to face the truth. He would need to kill Murtagh, or let all the Varden be destroyed by him and his master. There was no more denying, and Eragon hated lying to himself. There was still one more egg left, and if Eragon didn't make it, he was sure, sometime, somehow, that egg would produce a hero for the Varden. The Gods must know that Galbatorix didn't deserve to be in power. He knew that if he didn't make it, someone else must take up the torch. It was only fair.

Stand my ground, I won't give in
No more denying, I've got to face it
Won't close my eyes and hide the truth inside
If I don't make it, someone else will
Stand my ground

The next morning and more mornings following, Eragon could see the hope on the people still camping on the recent battle ground; he could see it in their eyes. His duty was all around him, and he could feel it getting closer, whatever it was, and it was bad. He knew that much. As he was walking, wandering, he found himself upon the makeshift sparring ground. He knew few would be willing to take him, and as he reached for the place he alway put the sheaf for his sword, he realised that Murtagh had taken it. He turned on the spot and ran, blindly, for Nasuada's tent.

"Lady! I have no sword! Murtagh took it from me after the battle, just as it was ending. He said the eldest son should have it, not the youngest. As if anyone could be proud to be Morzan's eldest son," Eragon quickly, easily, got lost in his anger, and Nasuada waited patiently for him to finish his short brooding before addressing him.

"You shall have a sword, Eragon, although not nearly as good as Zarroc. Take your pick of the prisoner's swords," she said calmly. As she saw the expected frustration cross the rider's face, she asked him with her eyes if a sword that wasn't invincable was better than no sword of all. And she watched, amused, as Eragon, grumbling, tried the confiscated swords out for size. He chose one that was like Zarroc in length, and weight, if not strenth.

"I can't win a battle against Galbatorix or Murtagh unless I have a sword made by elves," he thought silently to Saphira. He knew he needed a new sword now, but the one person capable of making him a Rider's sword had refused, sickened by the ways one of them had been used.

Eragon realised that this war was real, and it was quickly approaching full scale. It was only a matter of time before Galbatorix himself flew out to meet his opponent. This was civil war, and it was in his world.

It's all around
Getting stronger, coming closer
Into my world

He stood in the sparring ground, sparring with an elven opponent who had arrived a day to late. Elves and Riders were his only opponents now. Elves, Riders, and Murtagh. He finished, and he looked around him at the awe in the gathered audience's faces, he knew he would always stand his ground.

All I know for sure is I'm trying
I will always stand my ground

A/N: Hello, all! Hope you enjoyed the first chapter! And yes, I know I didn't use the entire song, but the rest was very repetative and I didn't want the characters to repeat themselves too often. The next chapter is on Eragon and I promise more angst! I'm not sure where to go from there, so any suggestions are more than welcome from REVIEWS!!

Yes, people, the little blue button that every reader sees. Please click it. Tell me you love it, tell me you hate it, tell me what you ate for breakfast, but tell me SOMETHING!! PLEASE!!