Would It Matter

by LOTRRanger

If Murtagh wasn't there, no one would care. No, Murtagh corrected himself, they would care. And they would rejoice in his death. He could not fault them. Semi-tag to Overcome.

Disclaimer: I do not own the Inheritance Cycle or Skillet.

Ramblings with Ranger: This is a sort-of tag to my story Overcome. You don't have to have read it to understand this drabble here. It's set pre-Overcome when Murtagh is still with the Empire. It is based off the song Would It Matter by Skillet.

Would It Matter

Murtagh over looked the red sunrise from his window. The world was beginning to awaken. Murtagh had always disliked, nigh hated, sunrises. It always seemed to Murtagh like the sun was taunting him, always reminding him that he would never leave. The sun received a respite. Murtagh never did. Murtagh could never leave. He was forced to serve Galbatorix, forever, until one of them died. The sun was always bright and sunny. It was downright cheerful. Murtagh could never show emotion. The sun always brought light and hope. It was a beacon. Murtagh always brought darkness and destruction. He was doom. The sun was everything Murtagh wasn't.

Murtagh spun away from the window, glaring. If the sun wasn't in the sky, it would be sorely missed. Murtagh suspected the world would cease to function. If Murtagh wasn't there, no one would care. No, Murtagh corrected himself, they would care. And they would rejoice in his death. Murtagh could not say as he blamed them. Murtagh felt a tear begin to prickle in his eye and he banished it. He never cried.

If Murtagh died tomorrow, he knew no one would miss him. He knew that no one would loose sleep. He knew no one was happy he was alive. Maybe, Murtagh thought to himself, if he wasn't hard and hallow, someone would care. Maybe someone would miss him. Maybe someone would loose sleep. But there was little chance of that.

Murtagh knew he was a mess. He knew he needed to be someone better. He knew that. He just didn't know how to be different. He could never forget that fact. It was imprinted on his heart and soul. Even if he did change, would it matter? Would anyone care? He had nothing. He wasn't going anywhere.

It seemed as if all of his chances were gone. It seemed like he would never change. He was going nowhere. He could never be someone better. He could never pull himself together. He would feel like this forever. No one would mourn him. No one would care. He would wallow in his grief. He would wallow in his sorrow.

Because no one cared.

They never would.