Title: Trying to Hide (Trying to...-Triology, 2/3)
Author: Zhiole
Fandom: Eragon/Inheritance
Disclaimer: Not mine, I make no money with it.
Pairing: one-sided (?) Eragon/Murtagh
Warning: Slash, M/M-Raltionship, Adult Themes, Incest (?)
Rating: PR-13 to NC-17
Author's note: Sequel to Trying to Forget. Written from Eragon's POV.

It was stormy, outside of the Quarters of the Varden. It had rained all day long, so the ground was all wet and slippery. The few kids here enjoyed playing out of the quarters, in the mud and in the rain. Eragon heard them screaming and laughing, and when he looked out of the windows he always saw them throwing mud and dirt at each other. And when they came back in, their parents would rage about them, having ruined their clothing or the cleaned floor.

Most of the time, Eragon smiled while hearing the laughters, even if it was very late and he wanted to sleep. But it gave him a feeling, a feeling of having a home, of having a family. Sometimes, the kids even played „Eragon and Saphira", and new role-playing game. And the little boys always fought out who would be able to play Eragon, and who had to be the evil Dulza, the strong Ajihad and the (ex-)prisoner with the bow, Murtagh.

But from time to time, Eragon also cried when he heard the children playing, mostly when he heard them talking about their parents. He had no mother. He would never have, he would never see her again. He had no real family, because even 'at home', where he lived with Roran and his uncle, didn't exist anymore. It had been destroyed, his uncle had been killed, Roran had gone to someplace he wouldn't find him. Where noone would find him.

When he was crying, Eragon was hiding in his private chambers, which he had gotten after the fight. He would lie in his bed and cry silently, wishing anyone would stand by his side, holding his hand and telling him everything would be alright. Saphira tried to calm him, and he felt how much he hurt her by closing his mind and shutting her out. But she wouldn't understand, she simply couldn't. And not even Arya or anyone of the Varden would.

His uncle would. But he was dead.

Roran would. But he had left him alone.

Brom would. But he had also died, trying to protect him.

And surely Murtagh would. But Murtagh didn't care.

At the first time Eragon realised Murtagh didn't care, he had cried even harder, crying a whole night and not knowing why. He didn't even know why he could or should trust the raven-haired. There wasn't any rational explaination. Nothing. Just some connection, which he couldn't put a finger on. Even after only he seemed to sense it.

Eragon had tried to build this connection up, to create a friendship or something else that is based on trust. But Murtagh hadn't any time. It seemed like he was always busy, sometimes to go hunting, sometimes to lock in his chambers, and sometimes to lie on his back in a bed or sit on the lap of someone from the Varden, being fucked or fucking someone. And Eragon didn't use the word with f very often, regulary he would say „sleeping with someone", but what Murtagh did couldn't be described with that words anymore.

Murtagh had spent so much time in his affairs/relationships/one-night-stands/etc that Eragon gave up soon. It just didn't work, he couldn't look Murtagh in the eye after he saw him with a brown-haired, about 22 years old man, doing it outside the quarters, hidden behind trees and rock. Eragon saw them anyways, and it somewhat crushed him. It broke him.

He hadn't realised what was the cause for this intense feelings toward the raven-haired man for a long time. It wasn't the lack of trust, he had somewhat learned to be betrayed and being careful with who he said what. No, it was something different. And when he laid awake another night, crying and not knowing why, he heard the soft voice of Saphira in his head, and while she talked to him, he realised why he was so jealous...and it made him cry even harder;

„Little One, don't hide your misery from me anymore. Don't hide that everytime you see him, your heart starts pounding wildly and you feel so weak. I can feel it. And don't try to hide that when you see how they look at him, you feel something like hate or jealousy inside you, because I can feel that too. And don't try to hide that when you saw him with someone else, it almost broke your heart and made you feel alone. Because I can see it. It's in your eyes, and you can't hide it from me. Because I know you."