Disclaimer: I own neither the Inheritance Cycle nor Merlin.
Soon after the visitors from Camelot had arrived, they had been escorted to the throne room by the Forsworn, King Galbatorix had welcomed them to Alagaesia, and introduced Arthur and Morgana to Murtagh. The king had then dismissed everyone but King Uther from the throne room
Arthur and Morgana were led to their rooms by Darren, and Murtagh followed behind. For Arthur, it seemed that the line between master and servant was blurred, less obvious, and in the fifteen minute walk to his chamber, a kind of friendship seemed to grow between Darren and Arthur. Morgana, on the other hand, spent this time watching the floor and pretending she wasn't there, and Murtagh did the same.
"This will be your chamber during your stay here in Uru'baen," announced Darren , "Morgana, this is yours, and if you need anything, this is Murtagh's chamber, and but I spend more time in it than him," he smiled.
"And," said Murtagh, "I will be training against my father tomorrow, and if you would like to come and watch, I'm sure you would be interested to see my father fighting, even if it is against just me." Arthur nodded, eyeing the scrawny young boy, his gaze lingering on the barely healed bruise over his right eye, probably thinking something along the lines of `This kid probably can't fight one of the peasants in Camelot, he'd be a joke against Morzan!`
"Anyway," said Arthur, grinning, "Morgana suffers from nightmares," Morgana blushed and glared at Arthur "so if you hear someone screaming in the night, it's her."
Darren grinned back, "Murtagh's the same, except he doesn't scream as much as he falls out of bed." this time it was Murtagh's turn to blush and glare. Arthur laughed and walked into the room that Darren had pointed to. "if anyone needs anything, ask Murtagh." Darren said, walking back to the kitchens, where he was supposed to be helping to prepare the feast that would take place the next day.
Morgana and Murtagh stood in an awkward silence for a moment, until finally Morgana asked, "What happened to your eye?"
Murtagh's hand darted for a moment to the dark bruise covering one eye, and said, "It's.. nothing, my father hit me because I was weak."
"He hit you?" said Morgana, incredulous, she looked as if she was about to say something, but she closed her mouth again and said instead, "Well, it will be interesting to watch you fight him, I'll ask Darren to wake me when you are about to fight him."
The next day, Murtagh entered the training field with Morgana, Darren, and an unwilling Arthur watching. Morzan and his son fought like they would any other day, Murtagh would do his best to defend himself, and would strike back when he found the smallest hole in his father's defences, he would be stuck down by one of Morzan's heavier blows, and a the sound of leather on flesh would be heard as Morzan's gloved hand struck his son's jaw. They fought like this for an hour, Morzan never being able to undeniably beat his son in the fight, and Murtagh holding on by his fingertips.
After an hour and a half of fighting, the sheer force of Morzan's blow broke through Murtagh's defences, knocking him to the floor, Morzan hit Murtagh on the shoulder with the flat of his blade, and placed the edge on Murtagh's throat.
"Dead." he said, and left his son lying in the dirt, bleeding from numerous cuts and scrapes along his bare arms from the fall or from the blunt blade breaking the delicate skin.
Morgana ran over to help Murtagh up, he shook as he stood, but didn't fall. "Are you alright, Murtagh?" asked Morgana, worried for the health of the boy. Murtagh nodded mutely, panting .
"Don't worry, Morgana," said Darren, "He normally looks like this after training with his father." Arthur's and Morgana's eyes widened.
"Perhaps we should take him to a physician, this cut may get infected" said Arthur, pointing to a rather large scrape on Murtagh's left elbow. "Maybe we should just take him to Gaius, just in case." Morgana nodded in agreement, wincing as Murtagh wiped some small stones out of the cut.
"No," said Murtagh, unaccustomed to people making such a fuss over his injuries, no one had even been this worried when his father had thrown his sword through Murtagh's back, except his mother, who had snapped out of her depressed haze long enough to take Murtagh to a physician, "I'm fine, it's just a scratch."
"Come on," said Arthur, pulling him along gently, "don't worry, Gaius is nice."
"If you don't mind," said Darren, "I am supposed to be helping in the kitchens"
When they entered Gaius' chambers, they found him setting out his various tools, he looked up when he heard Arthur enter. "Hello, Arthur," he said, "What do you need? I'm afraid I don't have everything here that I had in Camelot, though."
The rest of the small group entered and Arthur said, "Well, Murtagh was training with his father, and he fell quite a few times, I was wondering if you could look at the scratches, to check that they're not infected," he then said something quiet enough that only Gaius could hear, Gaius nodded, understanding their concern.
"Come, Murtagh, take your shirt off." Murtagh did as he was told, and Morgana and Arthur tried not to gasp in surprise and pity when they saw the long scar stretching from his shoulder to his hip, the large collection of bruises and cuts covering his back, or how visible his bones were under his pale skin.
Gaius washed the dirt away from the cuts and scrapes, and applied some medicine to the more serious ones to prevent infection, he then warned Murtagh to avoid fighting again for at least a day to allow his wounds to heal.
"Remember, Murtagh," he said, " You won't be able to fight any better with an infected wound."
Murtagh smiled, "Thank you, sir." he said, pulling his shirt on.
"Oh, and Murtagh?" said Gaius, Murtagh looked up, "Where did you get this scar?" Morgana and Arthur looked at him curiously, though they both suspected they could guess what had happened.
"Well.." stammered Murtagh, "When I was three, well, nearly three, anyway, my father, he was drunk at the time, and a man had insulted the king, and, well, I got in the way..." he trailed off, the three visitors from Camelot stared at him incredulously, it was one thing for them to have a theory, and quite another for it to be true.