A/N: Part two of this fic. There will probably only be one more chapter. Enjoy!
"I will not allow you to take her from me," Murtagh snarled, leaning over the bed so as to shield her with his body. Lady Death held back the smirk that was threatening to spread across her face; how arrogant these mortals could be. As if he could ever hope to thwart the goddess of death herself; it was an amusing thought to Lyris.
"There is nothing you can do, Rider," she said softly. "Her time has come, and now I am here to ferry her to the afterlife. You can either let her go with the knowledge that you may see her again, or you can fight me and make it all the more painful for yourself and your children; the choice is yours." Murtagh stared at Nasuada's sleeping form for a long time, breathing heavily and a scowl marring his handsome features. Finally, he glared coldly up at Lady Death where she stood placidly at the end of the bed. He thought that she was far too beautiful to be a harbinger of doom, but he supposed that was just a cruel jape made by the gods. They would be the only ones to think it humorous that beauty would bring death.
"Please," he whispered, his voice tight with anguish. "She is all I have. Do not take her from me."
"Think on what you have just said, Murtagh," Lady Death snapped, her anger slightly flared. "You have a family, and friends who care a great deal about you. It is selfish of you to say she is all you have. Think of your children, and your brother."
Murtagh stayed silent for a while, not daring to look at Lady Death and the icy chill that was emanating off of her. Already he could feel his beloved's hands getting colder. It shamed him to know that Lady Death was right, and he was acting selfishly. But there was a time when Nasuada had been all he'd wanted, and he couldn't bear the thought of losing her again. "I've already lost her once…" he said quietly, letting the thought slip away into silence. Lady Death heaved a small sigh and stared down at the quilted blanket upon the bed. Then, she stepped around the footboard and stopped next to the Red Rider where he knelt at the queen's side. She placed a dainty, pale hand on his shoulder.
"Would it comfort you to know that she will spend eternity in bliss and peace? She has been a just ruler and kind to her people. And your son, Ajihad, will rule wisely when she is gone. Your other children will become great leaders in their own right, and you will help to train countless generations of new Riders." Lady Death was not in the practice of disclosing details of a person's future, but she thought she could make an exception in this case. Perhaps it would help him to relinquish his hold on her if he knew that all hope was not lost.
"I would rather have her here with me," he said firmly, squeezing her hand. "Can you not heal her?" Lyris again held back the urge to roll her eyes. Why did the mortals always think she could heal their loved ones?
"It is not in my power," she replied. "You will need to pray to a different god for that." He glanced up at her scornfully and then snorted.
"You mock my pain!"
"I speak the truth," she snapped. "I cannot heal her ailment. The only thing I can do is take away her pain. Let me do my duty, Shur'tugal."
He suddenly stood and faced Lady Death head on, catching her somewhat off guard. She took a step backward, unaccustomed to being confronted so blatantly. "What must I do to convince you? This is the closest to begging you will get out of me," he snarled, his grey eyes cold with malice towards Lyris. She looked between him and the frail woman on the bed, and felt compassion tugging at her heartstrings. Her father had shown compassion once… Perhaps she could allow him a little more time.
"Very well," she replied in a tone that implied she had not been defeated, but was merely making a concession for him. "I will give you three days. That is how much time your daughter will be given to find your other son, but no more than that. At sunset on the third day, I will come for her. Is that understood?" Murtagh nodded firmly and turned back to look at the woman he loved. Lady Death stood tall and proud, but she was uncertain that this had been a good idea. Give the mortals too much leeway, and they could take advantage of her...
"Thank you for your kindness," he replied quietly. She inclined her head and then turned to leave off the balcony. The city looked beautiful from up here, the lights of houses twinkling down below as the breeze flickered the flames of candles and lanterns. It was truly a different world than the last time she'd been here. Lady Death remembered coming to the black citadel to take the Eggbreaker King's soul away to the Winter Realms, a land of eternal ice and damnation where the vilest and blackest souls spent their eternities. He had howled and screamed the entire way there, but most of them did. It was not a pleasant fate.
In his absence, the land was flourishing. Nasuada had opened up trade and lessened the taxes on the people of Alagaesia. All in all, it was becoming a pleasant and peaceful place to live, but Lady Death could feel there was a looming darkness on the horizon, waiting to strike. She knew it would not be long before she returned here to gather souls in droves. Lyris placed her hands on the white, marble railing and leaned against it, letting out a sigh. She was becoming soft after doing this for so long, though she knew there were yet thousands of years to come before she chose a successor. Perhaps she would follow in her father's footsteps and find a love of her own. But that was not in the forefront of her mind right now.
It was a kind thing for you to do, Lady Death, Armaros said. Though I wonder what it is that made you make an exception.
I'm just trying to avoid a battle of wills, Armaros. You know that, she quipped. It quickly becomes tiresome fighting with these mortals that can see me. At least if I give her family a chance to hasten to her side, the Rider will let me do my job.
I defer to your judgment, my lady, he replied obediently. She had made her judgment, but now she was trying to decide if it had been the right one.
The next day passed slowly for Lyris. There were souls all over the city that she could take care of, but the waning life force of the queen was forever nagging at the back of her mind. As she ferried an old man to the Land of Eternal Life, she felt a jolt of energy coming from the palace. The queen was fading, and fast; it would not be much longer before her soul would go dormant waiting for Lady Death. And there was nothing she could do about that. Lyris only hoped that Murtagh would not blame her for it. Although he could do nothing to hurt her, his magic could become a nuisance, and one that she did not have the fortitude to deal with right now.
That night, she returned to the palace to check on the queen. Murtagh was afraid she would break their bargain, until she took up a post in the corner of the room and stayed there all night. The Rider never left her side, refusing all food and drink that was brought to him. On the morning of the second day, he looked haggard and utterly spent.
"You should call for someone else to stay with her," Lady Death suggested quietly from her corner. "It will do you no good to wear yourself out."
"I will not waste the few precious moments I have left with her," he snapped, not even looking at her. "And what if you betray me and take her away when I am gone? No, Lady Death, I will not take that chance." Lyris sniffed slightly at his contempt, but said no more. Let him think what he will, but she was a woman of her word. The sun's rays peeked through the muslin curtains that hung over the exit to the balcony, lighting up the room and spreading their warmth slowly.
"Is your daughter any closer to finding your son, Adric?" Lady Death asked.
"I do not know. When last I spoke with her, she was on his trail. But that was yesterday afternoon; I have not heard from her since." Murtagh was sitting in a chair today by her side, tired of kneeling on the carpeted floor. But Lady Death had no need of sleep, nor did she tire; she just continued to stand in her corner to wait. It was not long before the door to the queen's room opened and a tall, noble looking man with caramel-colored skin strode into the chamber. He wore a long cape of purple silk trimmed with gold, and a golden crown sat upon his head. He looked to be in his early fifties, but he carried himself as though he were a much younger man.
"Father," he said, clapping Murtagh on the back. "How does she fare today?"
"No better," Murtagh replied. They were an unlikely pair to be father and son, but King Ajihad was not a Rider, and therefore aged as his mother had. A salt-and-pepper goatee framed the lower half of his face, and bright, hazel eyes lent him a youthful appearance. He looked down at his mother fondly and ran a hand across her wrinkled brow.
"Any word from Vala?"
"Nothing more than yesterday," Murtagh replied sullenly. "It was pigheaded of your brother to run off at a time like this. What could he have been thinking?"
"Adric is young, by a Rider's standards," Ajihad said. "It seems his temper ran away with him, and his dragon. But I have faith Vala will return him home in time." Murtagh glanced up at Lady Death surreptitiously.
"Let us hope so," he muttered. "I fear your mother does not have much longer." At that moment, a servant in deep purple garb hurried in through the hidden door in the corner. He carried a bowl of steaming broth and a carved cup filled with water. It was all the queen could stomach these days. Murtagh helped lift Nasuada up into a sitting position so he could more easily ladle the soup into her mouth. She smiled at him fondly and sipped timidly. After a little while of talking with her quietly, Ajihad left his ailing mother's side and returned to his duties. It was an hour later before she finished the bowl and the servant cleared everything away.
"Where is Vala?" Nasuada asked her husband. They had married in secret long ago, to avoid the whispers and outcries of those who would oppose their love, but the day finally came when the queen could conceal it no longer. When she became pregnant with their first son, Ajihad, she didn't really have a choice but to admit the marriage to the kingdom. At first, there had been riots against Murtagh, who had once been employed by the Black King. But Nasuada assured her people he was a changed man, and that she would not betray their trust by making him king. She and Murtagh had agreed that would be for the best; Alagaesia would never accept a Rider for their monarch ever again. It was fortunate that their eldest son never became a Rider, so their family line could continue.
It did not, however, come as a great surprise to either of them when dragon eggs hatched for their other two children, first for Vala and then for Adric, their youngest child. Vala's burnished gold dragon was a female, and the girl had named her Franae. Adric's dragon was a male, colored dark hunter green, and named Jevrath. Nasuada had been hesitant to send them to the east to train with Eragon and his new order of Riders, but Murtagh had insisted it was the best option for them. It would be a long time before Riders were welcome again in the Broddring Kingdom. It had been forty years since their mother had seen them, but Vala and Adric had rushed to her side when the sickness first became apparent. But then, after the queen had deteriorated even more, Adric had run off, presumably unable to watch his mother die.
"She has gone to fetch Adric," Murtagh answered his wife; his queen; his beloved Nasuada. The queen smirked slightly and tightened her grip on Murtagh's hand, the simply engraved gold band on her left hand glinting in the sunlight that poured through the glass doors to the balcony.
"If the boy does not wish to see me die, let him go," she said, some of her previous strength coming through in her voice. "I would do the same were I in his position. I must be a terrible sight to behold, especially since I was a young woman the last time he saw me as a boy. Be sure to tell him I always loved him though, when I am gone."
"You mustn't say such things," Murtagh said firmly. "You will tell him yourself when he comes. Vala will find him." The queen smiled knowingly, but said no more and rested her head against the ornate headboard.
"Tell me, my love. Has Death come for me at last?" Murtagh seemed surprised by her question, though Lyris was bemused. The Red Rider still, after all this time, underestimated how well Nasuada knew him. She looked to her husband and chuckled slightly at the shock upon his face. "I have known for many years that you can see the god of Death. Is he here now? In this very room?"
"Goddess, actually," Murtagh muttered. "And yes, she is here." He glanced over his shoulder and looked at Lady Death, resplendent in her crimson cloak and fine dress.
"Where?" the queen asked. Murtagh motioned to the corner where Lady Death stood, and the queen shifted her dim gaze across the room. "What does she look like? I suppose I shall see for myself soon enough, but I would like to know all the same."
"She is a young woman," Murtagh said, a fond smile upon his handsome face, "though only in appearance. Lady Death is centuries old, and has been doing the duties passed down from her father for at least a hundred years. I have seen her several times over the course of my life: when my mother and father died, when Brom passed, and when Galbatorix was sent to Hell, where he belongs. And yet, Lady Death has remained constant. She is beautiful, with her flowing dark hair and stormy, grey eyes. The red cloak she wears is what gives her power, and she has a black raven as her guide through the worlds. The Lady Death is a soft spoken woman, though stern when she needs to be. And I have bargained with her for a few more days. I had hoped it would give Vala time to find Adric, but I fear that hope may be lost."
"Lady Death sounds lovely," the queen mused. "Admittedly, I am anxious to meet her. This body pains me, and I am content to leave this world in the capable hands of our son."
"Don't speak that way," Murtagh said. Although he was smiling fondly at his wife, there was pain evident in his eyes. She looked over at him, her dark eyes gleaming with renewed vigor.
"I have lived a good, long life, Murtagh," she replied. "My time has come. We always knew this day would arrive eventually; why do you act surprised now that it has? I am not afraid to die, my love." Murtagh hung his head and drew her hand up to his lips, kissing it gently.
"You always were so brave," he whispered. "Braver than me, anyways. It's what I admired about you from the very beginning."
"I will greet Lady Death as I friend, I think," she mumbled to herself, staring blankly up at the ceiling. Lady Death watched on from her corner, fascinated by this exchange. On the one hand, the man who would live centuries more to come was terrified of death, but his mortal wife was ready to move on from this world and go to paradise. It was interesting to her, how these mortals viewed life and death. Nasuada was turning out to be a promising candidate to become a Guardian, if she would consent to the job. It was not meant for everyone, but Lady Death thought that she could handle it. After all, she'd been a queen, and had handled much worse than a position as a Guardian could offer her. And as the sun went down on that second day, Lady Death thought that maybe—just maybe—this trip had not been a waste of her time after all.
That's all for this chapter. Like I said, there will only be one more, so stay tuned for the final installment. Thanks for reading, and please review!