Suffering in Silence
Ch. 2- The Hostage
"Little one?"
"Uph" I waved my hand dismissively and buried my face into the warm blankets around me.
"Little One!"
"What is it!" I said jerking upright and scowling at the cerulean blue eye, peering through a hole in the crimson canvas of my tent.
"Galbatorix is attacking" I retreated back into the safety of my covers. It was far to cold to get up let alone fight a homicidal maniac that happened to be attacking.
"And I'm the sheep you ate this morning" I closed my eyes and basked in the soft darkness, that is, before a massive ivory claw descended on my bed and promptly flipped it over sending me a metre across the tent.
"OW! What in the world possessed you to do that?" I shouted at the massive blue bulk above me. A slow smirk spread across Saphira's consciousness and she snorted gleefully.
"We have a guest, of course" I whipped round to see a tirade of dark hair and a sceptical eyebrow.
"Arya" I choked. "Saphira? Find me a tree and some rope"
"Are you ok?"
"No- I mean... Sorry. Yes" I blushed. Note to self- Find some wit.
"Nasuada requires your presence"Arya said, her eyebrow firmly stuck half way up her forehead.
"Ah, let me just" I fumbled for a green shirt that hung on my bed stead and stuffed my head through. "- get a shirt on" Arya nodded and started walking to the stark white tent in the centre of the camp. I jogged along after her, still trying to flatten my unruly hair down.
"I can't believe you did that to me!" I shouted at Saphira, she lifted her head for a second from preening her scales and looked me up and down.
"I did tell you to wake up..." she purred slyly. I gritted my teeth as I entered the lavish quarters of the leader of the Varden. Nasuada nodded her head slightly.
"Shadeslayers"
"My Lady" My attention demanded the several guards surrounding the corner of the tent looking some what ill at ease. Nasuada's dark eyes followed mine and she waved her hands in the vague direction. I took a step forward as the guards parted.
"A girl?" I exclaimed. Sitting in a ball, shoulders shaking and head hunched over, was a waif like figure with intricately plaited hair. "What has she done?" I found it hard to believe she could do anything.
"She has done nothing" Nasuada sighed, she was obviously tired and stressed with the situation.
"Then why is she here, is she a danger to our cause?" Arya asked, moving closer to the girl.
"She is a-a... prisoner if you like" I laughed which earned a disapproving glare from Arya. I shut up.
"A prisoner?"
"Her father is the chief of a nomadic tribe which is the most trusted by the king and his pet nobles"
"Oh..." I stammered. "So you wish for a ransom or information?"
"Both" she said bluntly, looking me straight in the face. I was stunned my her tone, as if referring to a rag doll.
"Don't look at me like that Eragon!" she snapped. "Do your job!" I knew what she wanted, she wanted me to rip apart the memories of the fragile child.
"Why can't – why do I have to do it?" her expression softened slightly.
"I'm sorry Eragon... we need to know if she has any information and- and... we need to make her talk"
"But" I looked over at Arya. "I'll do it"
OoOoO
I was staring at the blank canvas in front of me. Blank. Vacant. Void.
"We no longer require your services"
I wished my mind was like that simple piece of cloth. Clear. Empty. It was clean of any blemishes. Perfect.
"You are no longer a useful"
If nothing ever happened two weeks ago on that night. If nothing ever happened before then. If nothing will ever happen again, then I would rest in peace. I wished I was dead. Like that fabric facing me.
"You are hereby stripped of all honorary or military titles due to the events that took place exactly one fortnight ago"
I might as well be dead. What was an urgal without a fight and without strength? An urgal that had no mate and no home. No life.
"You are crippled"
There. He said it. Crippled. Worthless.
"What will I do?" I whispered. My cheeks were tight and damp from the rare tears the leaked out of my staring eyes.
"You will do what you must. Fear is for weaklings"
"Fear!" I spat, rising to my full height, my nails digging into the polished staff that kept me standing. "Do I look weak to you?" I tensed my chest and my arms, I held my head high and stared at his brown , cold eyes.
"You are broken" he said bluntly.
"You are the broken ones!" I screamed, a fresh cascade of tears bursting free.
"Those are the words of a jealous runt"
"I will never find a mate or have an heir to train to be good and strong!" I cried, despairingly.
"That is correct and rightly so. If I would have had my way you would be put to death as you deserve" A burst of laughter bubbled from my lips, the talk of death was so merciless and cruel. It was final, I was dead to the world of my kind.
There was no honour in letting a fellow ram waste away out of battle.
Then it dawned on me. I wasn't a ram. I wasn't an Elder. I wasn't urgal.
I was a nobody.
Poor Mr Nameless... :D Please review it makes my (rather sad) day.