Harry watched the battle through Durza's eyes, seeing the rebels known as the Varden attack the imperial troops. The battle was taking place underneath Farthen Dûr so it was relatively dark but not too much. There were fires around the battlefield and Harry could tell they weren't strategically placed fires. They were fires from a certain dragon. Urgals charged and shouted in their own language as they ran to attack.

Durza had summoned a lethrblaka as his mount and was looking for the free dragon and her rider. Harry watched as Eragon and Saphira came into view through Durza's eyes and he grinned a little, hiding it under the pretense of a cough. The king stared at him suspiciously then continued to talk to one of his generals.

Harry could feel Durza's anger as he saw the elf that he had taken captive. The female elf was fighting aggressively, swinging her blade back and fourth as she encountered an Urgal or an imperial soldier. She was also healthy, alive and casting spells.

Harry's real attention was on Saphira. The beautiful blue dragon was alive and a bright blue ball of fury. She was a stark difference to Shruikan, who was chained and suppressed. Her rider was fighting alongside her or fighting on her, always careful to protect the dragon. If Durza and the king were to be believed, Saphira was the last female dragon. He could understand why the king had told Durza that no one was to kill Eragon or Saphira. The king intended to persuade the free Rider and his dragon to switch sides, to proclaim allegiance to the king.

A few hours later, the battle was still raging. Eragon and Saphira had split up as Durza stood before the Rider, who was alone. The dragon was off fighting somewhere else and so was the elf.

Harry watched as Eragon charged the Shade. The boy was wild but he still had some measure of skill as he defended himself. Eragon's eyes were fluttering quickly, a sign that his mind was probably being besieged too. Harry had been in Alagaesia long enough to know that a Dragon and its Rider joined minds when they bonded and the Dragon could boost a Rider's magical strength. But he wasn't too sure about Eragon's measure of skill in protecting his mind, regardless of having a dragon protecting it.

"Tell me, do you think the boy will be powerful?"

Harry cringed inwardly and turned toward the King, who was staring at him with… passionate possessive interest. That kind of interest was so not the kind of interest that he liked but there was nothing he could do about it. The battle went on in his mind's eye as the king stared at him.

"I… Maybe?" Harry finally spoke.

Galbatorix continued to stare, not even blinking for a few minutes. Harry could see Shruikan behind the throne, the dragon's tail moving aimlessly. Shruikan's wings fluttered within chained limits and Harry winced. The dragon growled and Galbatorix turned and sighed. Just before the king spoke again, Harry could swear Shruikan was looking at Harry with eyes that weren't as cloudy with insanity for just a second.

"Slytha." (Sleep).

Harry watched as Shruikan's eyes immediately closed and the dragon's ragged breathing evened out. The dragon was forced asleep, never again waking up unless the king commanded it.

Eragon's battle against the Shade raged on only for the Shade to suddenly gain the advantage. Harry watched in his mind's eye as Durza advanced on Eragon while he heard a dragon roaring in the background. There were other sounds of battle in the mountain but Harry was focused on Eragon and only the Rider as Durza raised his weapon. The Shade had gotten to within a foot of Eragon before Harry frantically thought of the only spell that might be able to help Eragon.

Harry's eyes narrowed and then he thought two words, hoping against hope that his own spell would work, that he would be able to distract Durza in time. He focused his entire being on the spell and watched the battle from hundreds of miles away as a translucent buck galloped onto the scene. The glowing, white, male deer appeared in between Durza and Eragon and that was precisely the interruption what Eragon needed to impale the Shade with his sword.

Harry didn't see anything else of the battle as black spots overcame his vision. The collar around his neck was tightening and he hadn't even noticed it. The king roared out his anger even as Harry lost all the air in his throat. His knees buckled and he fell to the floor as his throat collapsed and the last thing he saw was the king standing over him, staring at him with the utmost contempt.

When Harry woke up next, it was to a cell in a dungeon. He couldn't tell what time it was, as there were no windows, just stone walls and a metal door. He also couldn't hear anything other than the faint skittering of mice. He thought it was a little odd for mice to be around here but maybe it was too far away from Shruikan for the mice to be afraid.

He couldn't tell how much time had passed since he had been spelled asleep or how much time had passed since the battle.

He sighed and slumped against the chains that were holding him. He could hear the many voices of the condemned throughout the dungeon, due to his phoenix senses and winced. A lot of the people down here had been here for a very long time or had just been thrown in here in the past week, destined for execution. Harry even dimly recognized a member or two of the court that Galbatorix had forced to break up.

He was about to attempt to break through the chains holding him when a guard walked by the door of his cell. The guard stopped by his door, glanced at him then spoke a word in the ancient language, a word that he had become familiar with.

The power of the ancient language forced him asleep again but not without dreams.

He watched the aftermath of the battle in Farthen Dûr, how the leader of the Varden was slain by urgals. He watched Eragon be roughly healed of the injury that the Shade had given him even though Harry had succeeded in mostly distracting Durza. The boy was hurting, possessed by the Shade's spirit. He watched how the Twins got away with Murtagh, the one that the king wanted.

Harry's body shuddered even though he was deeply asleep. He had felt Durza and the King's glee from seeing the boy with the Varden. Apparently, Murtagh was the son of one of the Forsworn, the Dragon Riders who had betrayed their race.

He watched as the Twins tormented Murtagh and he wished he could help. But his body was chained and asleep in the king's dungeons. The king's minions told Murtagh that Eragon was dead, that no one could help him now. The Twins even tortured him as they took him to Urû'baen, invading the young man's mind and making him relieve various events.

"The King will be so pleased to see you again," one of the Twins remarked, as he smirked down at Murtagh. It had been four days days since they had taken him out of Farthen Dûr and now it was the sixth night since the battle. "We will have broken you before then and you will tell him all about the Varden and of the new Rider. Malthinae." (Bind in place).

Murtagh flinched, trying to struggle out of the bindings that the Twins had wrapped around him. There were ropes and bindings in the ancient language on him, both tied tightly enough so that he couldn't escape, no matter how much he tried. "I am not telling the king anything!"

"Oh, we think you will," the other Twin said. "The King has many different ways of finding out the truth. Many ways that even we don't know."

"You mean the king doesn't trust you two with spells?" Murtagh questioned, his lips twitching up into a hesitant grin. "Does the king not trust you?"

The Twins grinned smugly down at him.

"He does trust us. We were the only ones to successfully infiltrate the Varden. And recapture you."

As the other Twin spoke, the other walked over to him across from their fire. Murtagh watched the sorcerer wearily, distinctly aware of the various bruises, slashes and broken bones that the Twins had given him ever since they captured him.

The bald man stood over him and spoke something in the ancient language. "Eldrvarí." (Burn).

The fire that was behind the Twin roared up and raced toward them and that was all Murtagh knew for that night.

The Twins would torture him until he lost consciousness then leave him to stew for a few hours. It was what they had been doing for the past few days, hoping to get him to submit, to break before they reached the capital. But this was the first night that he felt… another presence. It was light but it was there, curious and warm. The feather-light touch to his mind felt… good, peaceful and had a distinctly male sense to it. The touch wrapped around him, touching each of his wounds in turn and leaving them tingling.

Murtagh let out a relieved breath as the serious burns on his legs cooled and healed. He kept his breathing even, not wanting to clue the Twins into the fact that there was a presence helping him. He wondered if it was Eragon doing this but then again, the Rider wasn't as powerful as this. He knew that the Twins hadn't been telling the truth when they had told him that Eragon and Saphira were dead. He figured that the two sorcerers would be so much happier with themselves at the moment if they had been telling the truth. At least, he didn't think so. He didn't know how Riders magic worked or if it could reach this far as the Twins had taken them past the Hadarac Dessert already.

No, I'm not the blue rider and his dragon.

Murtagh stiffened at someone else invading his mind. The Twins invading his mind had been a big blow to him and he already felt like he was vulnerable to everyone. The Twins had absolutely destroyed his mental control, having dug like a worm through his mind every hour just to make sure he was under their control.

The presence pulled back a little, appearing to have felt his alarm.

I'm not going to hurt you or invade your thoughts too much. I'm just hearing your surface thoughts. I think we're in the same boat. Or about to be. I just wanted to make sure you were… okay? Stupid question, I know but I… saw you fighting alongside Eragon. You were such a brilliant fighter! I can't stay with you too long but know that you aren't alone.

Murtagh felt the moment that the presence disappeared and inexplicably, he felt lost. He took a deep breath and readied himself for more of the Twins 'adventures'. He idly thought about the mental touch he had felt, how it had had the strangest accent he had ever heard.

Harry woke up, again not knowing how much time had passed. Or what had happened during his sleep. He yawned, feeling the ever present collar on his throat tighten and constrict briefly, before he felt a presence touch his mind. He never would have felt it had he been asleep for it was a barely there touch, alien and cold as it was. It also felt dark, black and as Harry processed it, he realized it seemed familiar. It was full of fear, pain and anger and that made Harry realize it was Shruikan.

His eyes widened. He hadn't thought that the dragon was lucid or even awake, as the last time he had seen the dragon, the king had forced him asleep. The touch of Shruikan's mind was brief but it certainly made an impact on Harry's as the dragon wildly tried to find a way to… Harry outright flinched. The dragon was trying to find a way to kill him… just from that one brief touch.

Harry shuddered at the pain he had felt through that touch, the phoenix within him crying out in shock. His inner fire cooled down a bit, the dragon's touch having jolted him. Shruikan had been trying to find a way to kill him so as to not have to feel. To not have to remember that he killed so many dragons.

Harry let out a string of curses, some in parseltoungue, some in English. Harry was going to someday get his hands around Galbatorix's throat or use one of the Unforgivables and he was going to enjoy it.

"Go give the prisoner his food."

Harry started at the voice, looking up to the door of his cell to see another guard. The soldier was staring at him, with two soldiers behind him with nocked bows. Another of the Empire's guards was unlocking the door.

"What?" Harry croaked out, not having spoken since the last time he had been awake. The soldiers had had to force him to drink water the last time as he was always worried that the water would be poisoned. "You want to repeat that?"

"The king is busy. The king's torturer does not have the time to feed the prisoner. It's your job now."

Harry raised an eyebrow, thinking about the slight touch of his mind to Murtagh's before the other young man had 'arrived' in the capital. He hadn't had the time or the capability to touch his mind to the other man's but he knew that ever since Murtagh had arrived, the king had ordered him punished for his little 'rebellion'. "What about feeding me?"

The soldiers stared at him then one of them threw a piece of moldy bread into the cell. "There's your food. Now put your hands where I can see them."

Harry winced at the sight of the bread but shrugged and picked it up and nibbled at the slightly less moldy parts. The chains that attached his wrists to the wall jingled, reminding him of his location. Once he was done, the soldier with the keys came in and unlocked him.

"First I was the dragon bather and now I feed prisoners. Will the responsibilities ever end?" Harry muttered.

"Shut it!"

"Maybe next time I can be the one who cleans up the laterine next? That's a step up, I'm sure. Or not."

Murtagh willed his body to not stiffen when he heard the door to his prison cell unlocking. Every part of his body hurt, with his mind falling apart more and more each day that he was in the capital. His legs were broken and his wrists were broken and he was chained down to the stone table in the middle of the room.

Each day, not unlike his trip here, one of the Twins had come in and tortured him. Each day, it was torture with a different element. Yesterday, they had made him think he was drowning, casting a spell in the ancient language to make water run over him every other minute.

He heard voices and one of the soldiers he had become familiar with exclaimed to someone to shut up. Murtagh tried to grin but he had no energy whatsoever.

"Having trouble?" Murtagh croaked out, swallowing in an effort to get water down.

"You have no idea."

Now Murtagh startled, his body stiffening as much as it could within the bounds the spell that kept him tied down to the table. The person who was walking in front of the soldiers was the man who had touched his mind a few days ago.

"Get in," one of the soldiers said.

The man snorted and Murtagh realized he was carrying a tray with food and a cup of…

Murtagh watched as the guy came closer and his own stomach growled, evidently not caring about the state it was in. The guy smiled down at him, a soft hesitant smile. However, Murtagh could see that the smile did not reach his deep green eyes. As Murtagh looked the guy over, he could tell the guy was doing the same with him.

The other man had on worn clothes, a tunic and a pair of leggings that looked like they were both made out of straw or something. The set of clothes was relatively similar to what Murtagh was wearing too so he knew that the other young man was itching. The young man also looked a little younger than Murtagh, maybe 16 years old? He had shaggy, wild looking black hair with a strange looking scar on his forehead that looked an awful lot like a lighting bolt. He also had on a collar, a big metal ring around his throat.

"Hey."

Murtagh's eyes trailed back up to the guy's eyes after peering down at the man.

"I suppose these are for you," the guy said, setting down the tray in the place that the King's torturer often set his tools down. "Here."

The guy came closer towards Murtagh's head and gingerly slipped a hand underneath his head to hold him up, simultaneously reaching another hand to the tray to pick up the glass of water. Murtagh could only feel that the guy's hand was warm and that it felt good. The water that trickled down his throat was even better, cold and hydrating.

After a while, the water stopped coming and the guy lowered Murtagh's head back down to the stone table gently. The other young man narrowed his eyes at him, studying him for a minute, glanced back at the guards outside the cell then returned to him. Murtagh watched as he reached out a hand and gently laid it on his cheek. The guy's hand was warm, mayhap unnaturally warm and Murtagh sighed in slight pleasure, having started to shiver.

"This is all I can do without getting noticed," the other man murmured as he looked down at Murtagh. He watched as the young man's green eyes softened and… glowed? Murtagh's jaw cracked and he yelped at the little pain that flared from it. The hurt lasted for a minute as his jaw warmed then the pain disappeared completely. Murtagh's eyes widened and he was so very tempted to rub his jaw but his arms were tied down.

"Are you a sorcerer?" Murtagh asked, able to talk without pain now.

"In a manner of speaking," the other man remarked. He watched as the guy picked up a piece of bread and tore off little pieces and dipped them in a bowl. "I'm more or less the king's pet wizard."

"Figures," the guy muttered under his breath.

"What?" Murtagh asked.

The guy looked over to him, his eyes widening only to sigh. "He's giving you better food than he's giving me."

"Who are you?" Murtagh asked as he opened his mouth for food. He watched as the guy raised the now stew soaked piece of bread and held it toward Murtagh's mouth. "I haven't seen you before."

The guy stared at him. "You wouldn't have. I came here only… a month ago? Bloody hell, it's only been a month."

Murtagh eagerly opened his mouth for the food and chewed cautiously as he looked the man over. The guy had let the piece of bread soak in what was probably some kind of stew or broth and it had made it easier to chew, though not by much. The guy continued to feed him until the bread was gone and the stew was gone.

"What's your name?" Murtagh asked, wondering if he had heard of the guy from before he had escaped the capital and the king. Chances were, he hadn't since the man had only been here a month but he was curious.

"Harry. I obviously know your name. The King has been talking about you for so long."

Murtagh winced.

Harry sighed. "To be fair, I kind of pissed him off two weeks ago, or at least, I think it's been two weeks since the battle but whatever."

"Hey! You done in there?"

Harry turned to see two guards at the door, swords drawn. There was a third guard at the door who was pulling out a set of keys to unlock the door.

Murtagh's eyes widened. "You 'pissed' the king off? And lived to tell of it? How?"

"I distracted the Shade," Harry replied, holding his hands up to let the guards herd him out of the cell.

"You distracted Durza?" Murtagh questioned, raising his voice just a little, enough so he would be heard but not enough for his throat to tighten in pain.

"The glowing deer," Harry said as he was pulled away. "That was me."