Disclaimer: I don't own Eragon or anything associated with the Inheritance Cycle.
Claimer: I, SussieKitten, own this plot and the story. Borrow or steal my plot, my original characters (Aksel) or story and I will report you. I also own my version of Saphira/Thorn's human appearances, and the universe and versions of the creatures I use in this story (hydras and chimeras in particular).
Warnings: Slash/Shōnen-ai – meaning mild guy x guy action. Femslash/Shōjo-ai – meaning mild girl x girl action. Swearing or strong language. Supernatural creatures – there will be mainly elves, dragons, vampires and werewolves in this. Mpreg – meaning male pregnancy people! If any of this disturbs you, click on the "back" button. I won't tolerate any flames.
A/N Thanks to everyone who read, review, fav'ed and/or put this story on their alert list! Every feedback I get is a huge confidence boost. :wink:
A huge thanks to my beta Illyric, who not only finds errors but also has been an inspiration while writing this!
Beware of a bastardly Murtagh in this. That's right; we'll be seeing an awful lot of Murtagh in this chapter. And that is indeed your cue to skip with glee. Lol.
Word – word written in my language Andelan
-Speech.- Eragon and Saphira talking to each other mentally
OBSESSION
Part Three; Disturbed
::May to June::
Monday morning dawned like it always had. A soft yellow, a louder orange and an almost angry red colour started to chase away the dark bluish black colour that was still left of the night. He hadn't slept that night either.
He didn't actually need to sleep. It was something he did when he was bored or when he, for once, felt tired enough. But he, even though he made sure not to let the hydra know, hadn't been sleeping a lot lately. He rarely dreamed, and even more rarely had nightmares. But recently all that had crept up on him during the nights were nightmares. And he hated it. Nightmares left him feeling weak, an emotion he hated with passion.
Murtagh sat on the roof of the building he and Thorn had resided in since coming to Carvahall. It was a rundown house that had seen better days. It was large enough to easily fit a family of six, but it was nothing like the house Murtagh had grown up in. But the vampire rarely thought of his childhood. He thought of it so little that all he could remember from it was killing his father and finding Thorn.
He had never quite understood why Thorn continued to stay with him. It was clear that they didn't get along. While Murtagh knew of the bond he and Thorn had was because of Thorn's transformation, it didn't change anything. Murtagh knew he was as cruel in his adulthood as he had been when he was young. How Thorn had even been willing to trust him would forever stay a mystery.
"Up here again, Murtagh?"
The vampire sighed. He looked away from the sunset and down at the world below. Out of the corner of his eye he could see Thorn step forward.
"Why do you insist on asking pointless questions?" Murtagh drawled.
Thorn snorted. Murtagh turned around and opened his mouth to speak again, but paused. He narrowed his eyes and instantly was on alert. There was something different about the hydra, he could practically smell it.
"Who did you see?"
"What business is it to you? I made sure I wasn't followed, if that's what you're worried about," Thorn scowled.
"I know you better than that," Murtagh said coldly. "But it is my business if you acted like a fool and tipped someone off that I'm here. You know very well the bounty that's on my head."
"Considering what you did, they should give you a medal and shake your hand," the redhead said and crossed his arms.
"And then they'll chop it off and kill me with it," Murtagh stood up in a flash. "Who did you see?"
"Why don't you guess?" Thorn took a step forward.
Murtagh felt the rage boil.
"You didn't?! You are a fucking idiot!!" the hazel eyed man snarled.
"No, that's what you are!" Thorn yelled. "She found me. And what the fuck are you doing, you absolute bastard? You're scaring that kid half to death!!"
"That was my intention," Murtagh said and smirked. "He's such a lovely prey, I just couldn't resist."
"Murtagh, riders and hydras are rare enough as it is. Let this one go," the redhead growled and took another step forward.
"Why? It's not like your precious little lady will die if I kill her rider."
"You may never have been forced to endure the loss of someone who's truly close to you, but it hurts," the hydra said icily. "It hurts even more if you're a hydra. If you dare to step close to that boy again, I'll kill you."
"Well, fuck me," Murtagh laughed sharply. "You've actually fallen for that girl."
"She's the only current female I've heard of that has found someone to transform for. If she passes, it won't just be me who'll be after your blood."
"Oh, isn't that ironic!" the vampire laughed. "But you aren't the boss of me, Thorn. I slay those I see fit," Murtagh said and glared.
Thorn leaped forward and tackled Murtagh to the ground. They skidded across of the dirty roof, clothes and skin ripping in the process. They skidded to a halt not far from the end of the roof. Thankfully the spot Murtagh had picked was flat. Had he been seated on the very top of the roof, they would have slipped and fallen down.
Thorn towered over the vampire and tightened his grip on Murtagh's shirt. Then he slammed him down against the roof. Murtagh gasped in pain before letting out a string of amused laughter.
"You won't go near Saphira or her rider," Thorn said with murder in his voice. "If you dare to even try, I'll send you bound, gagged and mortally wounded to the king myself."
"Such hatred you have for me," the dark haired man commented. "How did I ever win your trust?"
"I was young and you still had a small drop of kindness left in you," Thorn answered nonchalantly. "I can't say where it went off to, but I can say that you grew up to be just like your father; cold, heartless and a murderer to the core."
Murtagh narrowed his eyes. That had been unwise of Thorn, and he knew the hydra knew it too. No one mentioned Murtagh's father and left unscratched, if they left alive that was.
"Well, he did breed me to continue his legacy, now didn't he? It would be such a shame to not fulfil the old man's last wish," the hazel eyed man finished with a roar and pushed the hydra off him.
Thorn landed a few feet away from him on his feet. Murtagh jumped up and glared darkly at him.
"Once you were better than this," Thorn said coldly.
"Once I was a fool," Murtagh snapped back.
Thorn glared coldly at him.
"But I've grown up. Life sucks, even for the immortal. Why not make the best of it?" Murtagh said, spread his arms and smirked.
"Promise me you won't harm him," Thorn said and glared.
Murtagh took a step back. He lifted his foot to take another, but it met nothing but air. He stopped mid-motion and smirked.
"I promise," he whispered mockingly and disappeared over the edge.
:OBSESSION:
Thorn felt sick to his stomach. Whatever was about to happen, it couldn't be good.
He had scarcely seen Murtagh for the past few days, and when he did the other was asleep. That was a rare enough occurrence in itself. He knew that Murtagh had been trying to hide that he hadn't been sleeping, but Thorn knew the vampire better than that. And when Murtagh finally did sleep, he'd wake up screaming from an unseen nightmare. And now for the past forty-eight hours Murtagh had taken it upon himself to not return at all. At least that pattern Thorn knew well enough; Murtagh was getting ready to skip town. And there was nothing that made the hydra happier at that moment.
But despite all that, there was something distinctly different about Murtagh. He was still the same bastard, but there was something different about him nonetheless.
Thorn finished packing what little belongings they had and sat down on the old bed. Ever since Saphira had sought him out he had been keeping an eye on Murtagh from afar. Thanks to his dragon powers, he could easily sense where Murtagh was and who he was with. So far the vampire hadn't gone near Eragon at all.
The floorboard creaked and startled Thorn out of his thoughts. He stood up to greet his rider. The second he stepped out of the bedroom, the scent of blood hit his nostrils. He wrinkled his nose and sighed. Being close a vampire had taught Thorn a lot of things, mostly about how fickle life really was.
The hazel eyed man stood by the sink and was calmly washing his hands. Thorn scowled when he saw how the water hit Murtagh's skin and came back a soft red. He couldn't see his rider's face, but it was no doubt that Murtagh's face would be smeared with blood too. Thorn frowned. It had been a while since Murtagh had been this careless. Indeed, something bad was about to happen.
"I know I'm hot, but do you need to stare a hole into my back?" Murtagh drawled as he continued to wash his hands.
"If I find you anything Murtagh, it's disgusting," Thorn growled and leaned onto the kitchen table.
Why Murtagh hadn't moved to the bathroom to wash up was beyond him. Usually the vampire hid the obvious signs of his kills from Thorn, knowing how the redhead didn't care too much for what he did on his spare time, but this time...
"Welcome to the club," Murtagh growled. "Have you packed yet?"
"How long have we known each other, Murtagh?" Thorn snorted. "Yes, I have bloody well packed."
Murtagh nodded, his back still facing Thorn. The hydra's frown deepened. Was it just him or was Murtagh shaking a bit? He took a step to walk around the table, but a snarl stopped him.
"Don't come any closer!"
Thorn glared. Murtagh's hands were clenching the sides of the sink pretty tightly. He took another step forward, despite the further tensing of Murtagh's form and the threatening growl that was sent his way.
"Is something wrong?" Thorn asked carefully.
"No, nothing is fucking wrong!" Murtagh snarled. "Get the hell away from me."
"It isn't the anniversary of your father's death or your birthday. What the hell has gotten you this riled up?"
Murtagh's shoulder continued to shake as he cupped some water into his hands and splashed his face. Thorn stepped closer as the vampire cleansed himself. Murtagh turned off the water and ran a hand through his hair. When Thorn came to a stop beside him, Murtagh turned his face away.
The redhead growled and pulled the vampire to face him. He paused when he saw the marks on Murtagh's face.
There were three tilted claw marks that ran over his eyes and down to his mouth. They were slowly healing, but still had an angry red colour. Murtagh's eyes were the dark colour that Thorn had learned to associate with death. His lips were still slightly smeared with blood and when Murtagh snarled at him, he saw the residue blood on his teeth.
There were two shallow claw marks down the side of his neck and five on his right shoulder. Murtagh's t-shirt was splattered in blood, but his own and his prey. The side of his left arm was pretty clawed up as well. Thorn cursed.
"Tell me you didn't pick a fight with a werewolf," the redhead said coldly.
Murtagh just smirked.
"He provoked me, I answered."
Thorn snarled. Murtagh looked startled for a second before his cold mask was once again in place.
"How did this happen?" the hydra asked darkly.
"The idiot interrupted my dinner," Murtagh said dryly. "Then he figured that he wanted to take me on. Fucking prick. If you think this is bad, you should see him."
Thorn fought the urge to smack his rider.
"You arrogant fool!" he yelled instead. "You do realise that he'll most likely tell the mayor that you're here?! And you accuse me of blabbing?"
Thorn sneered. He stalked away from the vampire and into the bedroom. There he picked up their luggage and threw it onto the mattered couch inside the living room. Murtagh watched it all in silence.
"He won't be telling anybody anytime soon," the hazel eyed man drawled as he towelled himself off with some nearby paper towels.
"...You killed him?" Thorn asked in a deadly voice. "If you did, I swear to God, Murtagh -"
"Relax already," Murtagh sighed. "I didn't kill him. He'll be discovered soon enough by some random passerby and be escorted to a hospital. I only knocked him out cold... after kicking his ass, of course."
"You son of a -" the red eyed man forced himself to kill that sentence. "One of these days I'm going to kill you."
"Like I said, go ahead!" Murtagh said and barked a laugh. "But let's not get too carried away by this nostalgic chatting. I want us out of here within the hour."
Thorn raised an eyebrow. He watched Murtagh rip his tee off his body and nearly swore at the bruises he saw there. While vampires healed unnaturally fast, a few wounds usually took a bit longer to heal. He didn't even want to know how bad the marks on Murtagh's shoulder had been, since they were still gaping and an angry red. They would be gone within a few days, leaving no trace of scarring behind. Sometimes he really envied his rider. But then he remembered the burden that came with being a vampire and the envy was quickly forgotten. He'd rather be disfigured and broken than to be a vampire and have to feed off of others to live.
"You've been very quiet lately," Murtagh said absentmindedly as he started to bandage the worst of his wounds. "Not that I miss your chatter, but it does spike my curiosity. Don't tell me you're already missing your girlfriend?"
Thorn made sure to send an extra murderous glare at his rider. Murtagh just smirked in reply.
"I've been thinking."
Murtagh barked a laugh. He smirked as he tied up the last bandage. Thorn would have helped him hadn't be been so unbelievably angry at his rider.
"About what? The meaning of life? Is there really a God? Does love actually exist?" the dark haired man said sarcastically and heaved his bag onto his good shoulder.
"I know it does exist, unlike a certain someone," Thorn said and picked up his bag as well. "I've been thinking about you, though I have no idea why."
Murtagh snorted. He led the way out of the house and threw the garbage into a nearby dumpster. Then he proceeded to stuff his other hand into his pocket and walk calmly down the road.
"What about me then?" the rider drawled. "Where my mysterious bastardism comes from?"
"No, I already know the answer to that question," the red haired man said and rolled his eyes. "I've been wondering about your actions as of late. You haven't been quite yourself."
"How so?" Murtagh asked with an eyebrow crocked in obvious disbelief.
"You're sleeping again, but you're still refusing to do anything about your nightmares," Thorn paused and his voice became bitter. "Not that that's anything new. You're leaving at odd times and you don't tell me where you're going. Usually you boast about who you've killed, no matter how much you know I hate to hear about it."
"So what?" Murtagh drawled in a bored voice. "Do you want me to pick up the habit again? I'll be more than willing to."
"No thanks," Thorn said bitterly. "But you are acting odd, Murtagh. If I didn't know you better, I'd say that you were troubled."
"Well, it's good that you know me better than that, then."
Thorn rolled his eyes. Ahead of them he could now see the train station. Ah, so that was how Murtagh planned to get them out of the city. He obviously wanted them out in a hurry. Thorn knew how much Murtagh hated mingling with other people. The hydra concluded that Murtagh hadn't let him in on everything that had happened in that fight with the werewolf.
There was however one thing that was bugging him, and yet he didn't want to ask the question. He was afraid of what might happen if it he did.
"Come on, ask me," Murtagh said as he gazed up at the sky. "Ask me if I haven't hurt the rider of your precious girl."
Thorn scowled. Oh yes, there was something seriously off about his rider.
"I know you haven't," the redhead said and watched absentmindedly as people walked around on the station before them.
"Oh? Been keeping an eye on me, have you?" Murtagh asked with mockery in his voice. "I'm honoured that you trust me so."
"I would have sensed if Saphira lost her rider. Hydras are emotional beings, remember? We can sense when there's something wrong with each other, if we're close enough," Thorn snapped angrily. "I am however wondering why you're simply walking away like this."
There was no way Thorn was telling Murtagh that he had actually been keeping an eye on him.
"Oh, he had the wrong blood-type," Murtagh said and smacked his lips. "I checked. Damn that brat. I was looking forward to killing him, too."
Thorn snarled. His hand shot out and grabbed Murtagh's throat in a choke hold. He lifted Murtagh into the air and moved his foot out of the way when Murtagh's bag fell onto the ground.
Murtagh let out a string of amused laughter.
"Oh my, I've really done it this time. Are you going to kill me?" he asked and continued to laugh.
"No," Thorn growled angrily. "But I'm very tempted. I told you to stay away from him, Murtagh."
"And I did. I never approached him," Murtagh smirked. "You never said anything about spying on him."
"You sick freak," Thorn spat.
"I can't help it," Murtagh said and grinned. "I was born this way, remember?"
Thorn let out a low growl.
"Tell me why you're walking away," he said darkly.
Murtagh sighed. Thorn tightened his grip and Murtagh let out a small choked sound. While vampires didn't actually need to breathe, it still hurt to have your neck gripped tightly.
"Fine. Fine. Damn, you're such a spoilsport," Murtagh said moodily. "Let me down."
Thorn released his grip and watched the vampire land on his feet. Murtagh leaned down and picked up his bag. Thorn shot a discreet look around the perimeter to make sure they hadn't been spotted. Good, there was no one in sight. And the station was still too far away for the people there to see what they had been doing.
"I'm leaving, my dear old friend, because someone might be aware of my presence," Murtagh replied calmly. "I thought he had died long ago...apparently I was wrong."
"Who?" Thorn asked suspiciously.
"It doesn't matter," Murtagh said dismissively and began to walk towards the station again. "All that matters is that we need to get away before he finds me."
"Why not kill him?" the redhead asked, wondering why Murtagh seemed almost afraid of this man, whoever he was.
"...It's not worth the trouble," Murtagh snapped. "Stop asking questions, already! You should be fucking skipping in glee that I'm leaving without putting your girl's rider six feet under."
Thorn just rolled his eyes and let Murtagh storm ahead of him. A minute later the frown was back on his face.
"Since when was someone not worth the trouble?" Thorn murmured to himself.
Something was seriously wrong. Never before had anyone not been worth the trouble of killing. Murtagh, as much as Thorn hated to admit it, loved to kill; he lived to kill. Whoever that knew Murtagh was in town was important in some way. And for some reason, admits all of his musings, Thorn suspected he hadn't seen the last of Carvahall just yet.
:OBSESSION:
It had been a month. Eragon knew he should have been worrying about the upcoming exams, but he couldn't. All he could worry about was the fact that it had been exactly one month since he had met the vampire.
For the past three weeks, he knew his friends had been worrying about him constantly. But he couldn't help it. His appetite was waning, he was tired all the time and he felt colder than normal. Funnily enough, summer was approaching and still he was wearing baggy hoodies. But thankfully Eragon had yet to get sick. Saphira had forced him to read the pregnancy book Brom had bought him, and thanks to the male structure, most guys got sick easily when they were pregnant. It varied from small stomach aches to actually muscle cramps. So far he had not experienced any of the symptoms listed in the book.
"Alright class."
Eragon jumped. He had been caught in his own thoughts and hadn't even noticed the time fly by. He shook his head and directed his attention back to the teacher.
"Mythology exam is not like your everyday exam," Brom continued. "In the first part of the exam you'll be asked to determine the specie of two unknown people. You aren't allowed ask the person before you what they are, but you're allowed to observe them. The final part you'll be asked to write the history of that specie and explain why you think the person before you is that specie. But there have been times when we've brought in humans and due to the recent failure rate at these times, I've been...asked to tell you what to do then."
Eragon couldn't help but to grin. He was sure Brom had been threatened rather than asked by the school board to tell the students just that.
"You'll then have to write why the person before you is human and not, say...a werewolf. But you will also have to write the history of the humans. And that class, is just what our next lessons will be about," the brown haired man said and chuckled.
"Sir, have you ever brought in a vampire?" a girl at the front of the class asked loudly.
Brom paused and pursed his lips. The class fell almost eerily silent.
"Once," he answered finally. "It was a few years after the riot, and it has never been done again. Class dismissed."
Eragon and Saphira waited for the rest of the class to leave the room before walking up to the teacher's desk. Brom looked up as they came closer.
"Are you ready?"
The two teens nodded. Brom closed his bag and stalked out of the room, the two teens almost running to keep up with him.
"Sir, what -" Saphira breathed, but was interrupted.
"Not here," Brom said and led them out of the building. "We'll talk when we're safely inside of my house. Where's that elf of yours?"
"Um, Aksel didn't have any classes today. You told him to meet us at the house when school was up," Eragon replied.
Brom mumbled something under his breath and unlocked the car. Eragon and Saphira slipped into the back while the older man started the vehicle and drove out of the parking lot. The next few minutes were spent in silence. When they finally arrived at Brom's house, Eragon breathed out in relief. He hated tense silences.
"The kid better not have broken anything," Brom muttered darkly. "I should never have given him a key..."
Saphira giggled softly. Eragon just rolled his eyes.
"Yo, guys!" Aksel piped up eagerly as they stepped into the house. "I've been waiting for ya. And I didn't touch anything...nada, zip, zilch! Promise!"
Brom just snorted in disbelief and stalked into the kitchen. Aksel gulped and sat down onto the couch gingerly. He almost jumped back up in fright when it creaked. Saphira let out another amused giggle. Eragon just sighed and sat down beside the blond, not caring that the couch creaked again. It was old after all.
"What have you been doing all day, Aksel?" Saphira asked softly and sat down beside Eragon.
"I've been at the market and around town a bit, listening in on the gossip and such," Aksel said like it was a perfectly normal thing to do. "No word on any bloodsuckers still walking around here."
"They don't shout out their presence to the people either," Eragon drawled and huddled himself deeper into the couch.
Suddenly it had gotten a little cold again, despite the people on either side of him. God, he hated the condition he was in.
"Nope, but no one has been found dead or has gone missing for the past three weeks. Whatever bloodsuckers used to hang out here has left," Aksel said and shuddered. "Thank God."
"I wouldn't start thanking any Gods just yet, kid," Brom said gruffly as he stepped back into the room with cup in his hands. "Today it'll be one month since the...run-in with your vampire. If he's due to show up, it'll be tonight."
Eragon shuddered. Saphira put an arm around him and started to rub his other arm while sending calming whispers through their mind link.
"I have tried to sense Thorn during the past week, but so far I haven't been able to sense anything. If that bastard returns, then Thorn will as well. We never leave our riders behind, no matter what," the blue eyed girl said quietly.
"Sir, has a dragon ever transformed for a vampire before?" Aksel asked in a curious voice.
"Just once before that we know for sure," Brom replied in a blank voice. "And that was for Morzan."
Saphira shuddered violently. Her gaze remained planted at the floor below her as she shuddered with disgust.
"Morzan must have been just a kid back then," Brom said and sat down in front of the teenagers. "Otherwise no dragon would have even dared to step close to a vampire; they reek too much of death and despair. But as a child a vampire hasn't gotten into the whole killing mode just yet. They're more innocent until they hit the age of twelve."
"But then the hormones set in, right?" Saphira piped up, finally looking away from the floor.
"Yes," Brom nodded. "After that age they begin to crave blood more often. As infants or young children vampires don't need blood more than once every other month, if that often. They're very capable of eating like normal people; they just don't find it as satisfying."
"How can someone live like that?" the blue eyes girl whispered in a quiet and almost horrified voice.
"It's all they know," the older man replied with a tired sigh. "They can ask us the same; how we can live without drinking blood."
Saphira bit her lip and looked away, her eyebrows furrowed in thought.
"But if you could Saphira, I'd like you to stay on alert. If you as much as suspect that you can sense the other hydra, you let me know immediately," Brom said and scowled. "Time moves too fast these days."
"Sir, how fast would you say it would take for the vampire to get sick if Eragon is his mate?" Saphira asked suddenly, a new light suddenly shining in her eyes.
Eragon, who had been quite comfortable in pretending not to hear the conversation going on around him, was now on alert. What had she just asked?!
"Very slowly, actually. Even if a vampire feeds off of one person a week, it will take at least a four people, or a month if you will, for him to really notice or be unable to deny it anymore," Brom paused and he got a faraway look in his eyes. "At first it'll be smaller pains, and then he'll notice that the blood doesn't taste like it's supposed to. Then he'll be in real agony. That is when he can't deny it anymore. Just the taste of someone's blood should be enough to make him sick at that point."
Eragon gulped. He was beginning to feel sick.
"Usually a few vampires deny the pains or the stale taste and just continue to feed with new vigour, but that only causes the illness to progress faster," the brown haired man sighed. "It's impossible to tell just how many vampires have died because they kept on being in denial."
"They aren't very bright, are they?" Aksel commented while twiddling his thumbs.
"Oh, they are actually unusually bright, boy," Brom said and let out a bark like laugh. "How else do you think they remain from getting caught? No, vampires are just very prideful creatures."
"I got a question, sir," Aksel paused. "Why do you think he'll be coming back?"
"After a month the vampire usually feels something in his soul, something that's calling out to him, so to speak," Brom said with a frown. "That usually pulls them back to their mate, whether they know what the pull is or not. If Eragon is not his mate however, it's likely that the vampire will come back to...well, you get the idea."
"So it's better to be safe than sorry. I talked to Thorn just the day after we found out that Eragon was expecting. He said that he would try to get his rider out of the city faster. They could be on the other side of the country for all we know. But they could just be in Therinsford. We can't risk it," Saphira said and shook her head.
Aksel just nodded.
"Eragon, are you okay?" Saphira asked suddenly, her voice tinted with worry.
Eragon looked up. He was feeling a bit sick. He shook his head and shakily stood up. By doing so, everything just suddenly started to spin and his stomach clenched painfully. He stormed over to the bathroom and only just made it to the toilet before he started to hurl. Saphira was quickly by his side, holding the hair out of his face and rubbing the small of his back comfortingly.
"Is that the first time he's gotten sick?" Brom asked with worry plain in his voice.
"Yes, sir," Aksel replied.
"It's too early for it to be morning sickness," Saphira said and held onto Eragon tighter as he doubled over again.
"Maybe not...or maybe he just got a little nauseous over the topic we were discussing," Brom sighed. "When he's done, get him to lie down."
Eragon held onto the toilet bowl tighter as he retched anew. He sobbed quietly and cursed the tears that were falling from his eyes. Saphira whispered comforting words into his ear, but he heard none of it. He just wanted it all to go away.
:OBSESSION:
When Eragon woke up the clock had already struck ten p.m. He sat up and recognized the room as the one he had been spending every weekend in so far. He pulled away the comforter and got out of bed. He was a little surprised to find himself alone in the room, but he would be lying if he said he didn't appreciate it.
Ever since that fateful day a month ago he had been unable to get any real privacy. There would always be someone else in the room with him, unless he was in the bathroom, of course. And it was a truly great feeling to finally be alone for a while, even if it was only for a minute or two more.
For once Eragon longed for a window he could look out of. The wall seemed too bare without one, and for some reason he wanted to look at the world outside. For the past few weeks he had been scared to look out in fear of finding a pair of cold eyes staring back at him. But at that moment Eragon found himself surprisingly calm.
"Ah, you're awake."
Eragon looked towards the doorway and smiled as Saphira stepped inside. She had pulled back her hair, allowing just a hint of her black tattoo to be visible on her shoulder.
"How do you feel?" she asked quietly.
"A bit better," Eragon replied.
And that was the truth. Earlier, while the others had been discussing vampires, his stomach had been coiling upon itself. Now it seemed to have finally calmed down.
"Good," Saphira murmured and sat down beside him. "You had us worried there for a while."
"Hey, the sickness had to start sometime, right?" Eragon tried to joke.
A sharp glare from Saphira silenced him. Eragon looked down at his hands and sighed.
"How're the others?" the brunet asked and started to prick at an old scar on the back of his hand.
"Well, Aksel's beside himself in worry and Brom's pacing a hole into the carpet while muttering curses to himself," Saphira said brightly.
"...I'm not sure if you were joking or not, but...alright," Eragon said sceptically.
"Come on, let's get out of this dark room," Saphira said and held out a hand for him to take. "I'm sure Brom's dying to fuss over you."
Eragon groaned in horror. Oh, he'd rather not have that happen. He valued his sanity, after all.
"'Agon!" Aksel exclaimed as the two stepped into the living room.
Eragon barely had time to open his mouth before the elf had sprinted across of the room and gathered him a tight hug.
"Damn, you scared me, mate," Aksel murmured. "I've never seen anyone vomit like that, and I've seen a lot of drunk vomiting."
"Too much information, Aksel," Eragon croaked. "And could you let me go, please?"
"Ops," the blond said sheepishly and let Eragon go.
Eragon gulped in precious gulps of air. Damn, Aksel sure knew how to hug someone.
"Aksel, you need to be careful! You don't hug pregnant people to smithereens," Saphira scolded.
The blond grinned sheepishly.
"You alright there, son?" Brom asked as he approached the teens.
"Yeah," Eragon breathed. "I'm just trying to catch my breath."
"I didn't hug you that hard, mate," Aksel said with a frown. "Right?"
"No, no," the brunet answered. "But you know how easily tired I get after getting up."
Saphira sighed. She put a hand on his shoulder and sent him a mental message.
-But that doesn't mean it scares us any less when things like that happen to you.-
-I know, I know,- Eragon replied grumpily. -It's not like I do it on purpose either.-
"People aren't feeling very included over here," Aksel said dryly. "Not all of us can talk to each other telepathically, you know."
Saphira let out a soft giggle.
"Sorry. It's become a habit," the brunet said sheepishly.
"But you aren't feeling nauseous now?" Brom asked with narrowed eyes.
"No," Eragon replied honestly. "It was gone when I woke up."
Brom nodded to himself.
"Alright. But from now on I want you to relax when you come home from school, even if you have homework or things to study, I want you to rest for at least a half hour. Also, no strenuous activities of any kind," the older man said sternly. "It seems like the pregnancy is already taking its toll on you."
Eragon bushed. God, he was never going to get used to that word.
"Remember, I want the three of you in that room before midnight," Brom said firmly.
"Why is that, sir?" Saphira asked. "I mean, I understand and yet...I don't."
"Midnight is when the full moon is on its highest, or at least, it is usually so. And the moon affects all creatures and humans. If anything is to happen to that vampire tonight, it will be then. Then I want you three to be as locked away as possible," Brom said gruffly. "No bloyean is going to get to Eragon again, especially tonight."
"Understood, sir," the hydra said and nodded. "Should we perhaps go in already? It's close to eleven."
"Good idea, Saphira," Brom said. "The sooner you get inside there, the better. I'll be busy checking every door and window for a while, but scream if anything happens."
Eragon watched his mentor walk away with a heavy heart. He couldn't help but to feel that he was imposing. It seemed like there were still a few unhealed wounds from Brom's past, and the brunet now knew that Brom had a history when it came to vampires. He really hoped he wasn't being a burden.
"Oh, shush you," Saphira scolded.
Eragon blinked. Had he accidentally transmitted that?"
"I don't have to hear your thoughts to know what you're thinking," she said sternly. "Now, let's get inside."
Aksel closed the door behind them and locked it. Only they and Brom had the key, so they were safe...for now.
The brunet sat down onto his bed and bit his lip. Saphira sat down beside him and laid an arm around his shoulder. Aksel plumped down on Eragon's other side and folded his hands in his lap.
"Do you think he'll actually come for me?" Eragon asked meekly.
Saphira sighed softly.
"If Thorn doesn't say anything and there are no rumours going around about you, then he shouldn't," she said quietly. "I really hope he won't."
"Same here," Aksel breathed. "I'd hate to be the witness of that fight."
"Fight?" Eragon frowned.
"I'd die before I let that man come close to you again," Saphira said darkly. "No matter if I hurt Thorn by hurting him; you mean more to me than anyone ever has. I'd rather kill that vampire than let him get within a hundred feet of you."
"I heard that there hasn't been a vampire vs. hydra fight in centuries. While it would be cool, I'd rather not watch that unfold," Aksel said and twiddled his thumbs. "I've heard it can get ugly fast."
"Are you kidding me?" Saphira asked. "If someone threatens our rider, hydras can get worse than werewolves protecting their pack. We kill and die for our riders."
Eragon wished he had been born deaf. Hearing Saphira say something like that was scaring him. While it was nice to know that she cared that much, it scared and hurt him. He was scared that the day might actually come that she'd fight for him and hurt because of the pain he knew he would feel the day the fight would come.
"Oh, I'm sorry, Eragon," the blue eyed girl murmured. "We'll stop now. There's no need to make the atmosphere darker."
Eragon smiled weakly in gratitude.
"Why don't we try to play a game instead?"
"Oh!" Aksel exclaimed eagerly. "Can we play strip poker?"
Two hands hit him at the same time. The blond whined in pain and pouted.
"I feel so loved," he grumbled. "What was that for?"
"Oh, don't ever change, Aksel," Saphira said with a soft smile. "Humour may be just what we need right now."
Aksel just blinked and shrugged. Eragon watched as Saphira pulled out a deck of cards from her bag and started to shuffle them. Aksel started to beg for a round of poker, but Saphira turned him down without blinking. Eragon bit his lip and shifted on the bed, moving so that they were now sitting in a circle. Saphira looked up and smiled.
"Please! Just one round, I beg you!" Aksel whined as Saphira stopped her shuffling.
"Fine," she huffed. "But no funny business from you."
Aksel drew a cross over his heart and grinned. Eragon rolled his eyes. He was willing to bet that the blond had crossed his fingers behind his back while he had done so.
It was at that moment that Eragon found himself immensely grateful for having the friends he had. Without them, he didn't know how he would have survived the mess that he had gone through, and the mess he knew was ahead of him.
:OBSESSION:
Murtagh watched the moon slowly sink with a scowl on his lips. Another sleepless night had passed. He had fallen asleep yesterday, but had woken up just an hour later thanks to his oh-so wonderful nightmares. He cursed his father to the grave and back for creating him. If he hadn't already been dead, then Murtagh knew he would have killed the man in a heartbeat. It didn't matter if he died in the process, just as long as he took the bastard with him.
Murtagh looked into the alley he had just come from. A body lay behind; crumpled and broken on the ground. He sneered at it before walking briskly down the path. He needed to get away before anyone found the body. He might be cruel, but he wasn't stupid.
The hazel eyed man ran a hand over his mouth and was pleased when he found no residue blood. In his mouth however...Murtagh licked his lips and swallowed. Well, there had been some left.
The vampire turned right and entered an alley ending in a dead end. He found a prostitute and a slightly obese man going at it. He sneered.
"If you don't mind, I'd like to get past you," Murtagh called out over the grunting.
The couple before him stopped. The man scowled and held the girl against him as she tried to squirm away.
"Oy, why don't you mind your own business?" he snapped.
Murtagh snorted. He stepped closer, never allowing the moon light to fully shine on his face, only his eyes.
"And I said that I need to get past you," Murtagh drawled. "So move."
"To get where? This is a dead end," the other man drawled back.
"Not to me, it isn't," Murtagh smirked and let the blackness take over his eyes.
The girl screamed. Damn, she was loud, Murtagh noted. This was why he stuck to males mostly. They didn't make as much noise...usually. The man on the other hand froze in terror. Murtagh let his smirk grow, his fangs clearly visible even in the dark. Oh yes, they were terrified now.
"Let me pass and I won't harm you," Murtagh said silkily.
That was all they needed. The girl sprang out of the man's loose hold and ran right past the vampire. The man on the other hand kept shivering. Murtagh rolled his eyes and began to walk forward.
"Stay away from me!" the man hollered.
Murtagh just snorted. He crouched and leaped over the man easily. Then he stopped. He looked over his shoulder and glared at the man that was staring at him in horror.
"Get lost, or you'll lose more than just a lay tonight," Murtagh growled.
A split second later the man had run out of the alley, screaming and trying to pull up his pants at the same time. Murtagh sighed tiredly when he heard the word 'vampire' coming from the man's mouth. Ah well, they were leaving soon. Thorn was going to be pissed when he heard the rumours going, but Murtagh didn't care. He had needed to past them, Thorn should be happy he had only scared them.
Murtagh climbed up the wall separating the alley from the one on the other side. He leaped down onto the other side and started to calmly walk away. If he started to run, people might get suspicious.
He finally found the rundown building they had been living in for the past three weeks. Murtagh sneered in distaste. But he knew it was necessary. His kind was hunted down and killed. And so he had to live where he knew no one would look for him. He pushed the door open and stepped inside.
"Get a move on! We're leaving," Murtagh barked.
"...Already?" Thorn called back, coming into view with two bags in his hands. "What did you do?"
"I scared a prostitute and her customer," Murtagh replied and shrugged. "It's not my fault they wouldn't move."
Thorn glared at him.
"Have you tried asking?"
"Yes," Murtagh replied honestly. "They wouldn't listen. So, when all else fails..."
Thorn shook his head in disgust. Murtagh just snorted and took his bag from the hydra. He slung it over his shoulder and walked out of the building. He heard Thorn mutter darkly as he caught up with him. Murtagh started to hum softly under his breath, enjoying the shocked look he got from Thorn by doing so.
"Where to this time?" the redhead asked. "I doubt there's anywhere new for us to go anymore."
Murtagh snorted.
"Why do you always refuse to tell me?" Thorn snarled.
"Because it's better this way," Murtagh said simply. "You'll know when we step onto the train."
"Going by train again? What, is the bus too good for you?" the redhead growled.
"No, but there are few buses travelling at this hour," Murtagh drawled. "We'll be taking the night train."
"That only goes to Gil'ead and the nearby cities," Thorn commented quietly. "Don't tell me you're going back to finish the job."
Murtagh looked at the other. Thorn looked ready to hit him if he answered incorrectly. The vampire rolled his eyes.
"I'm not going back," the hazel eyed man replied deadpanned. "I'd be signing my own death sentence if I did."
"Oh yeah, that guy of yours," Thorn snorted. "Why did you think he knew you were there, anyway?"
Murtagh fell silent. He had been asking himself the same question. He hadn't seen that man since he had been a kid. Then again, it was rare of him to visit the town he had grown up in. While he had been born in Urû'baen, his father had taken him to different cities while he was growing up. Carvahall had been the city he had spent most of his time in, though Murtagh had no idea why. That had also been the city his father had died in.
He shook himself out of his memories.
"Had I know, Thorn, I would have done something about it before I left," Murtagh answered finally.
Thorn rolled his eyes and continued on in silence.
They arrived at the train station a few minutes later. Murtagh bought the tickets and flirted slightly with the girl selling them. She giggled and flirted back, not that Murtagh was interested. She was a bit too skinny for him.
Murtagh thanked her and left. Thorn just stared blankly at him and ripped one of the tickets out of Murtagh's grasp. Murtagh sniggered.
"Why do you stay with me, Thorn?" Murtagh asked as they sat down in an empty wagon.
There were few taking that particular night train, and for that Murtagh was glad. He had no idea what had made him ask the question, but judging by the look on Thorn's face, he wouldn't let it slide even if Murtagh tried to brush it away.
"Now it's you that's asking the stupid questions," the redhead replied dryly. "You're my rider, end of story."
"You could have stayed in Carvahall and gotten married to that gal of yours. Instead you're travelling all over the country with me?"
"It was tempting to stay," Thorn said sombrely. "But unless you do something I cannot forgive, you're stuck with me. Someone has to make sure you don't hurt yourself."
Murtagh rolled his eyes.
"And I knew a boy once," Thorn continued in a much quieter voice. "He was cruel yes, but he had a tiny heart that had been allowed to grow in his father's absence. He took me in, helped me when I needed it. That's the day I vowed to repay him, no matter how much of a bastard he was going to grow up to become."
The train started to slowly roll out of the station. Ahead of them Murtagh could see that the other compartment was occupied by no more than five people. Behind them he couldn't sense anyone else. He had indeed picked the right train and the right compartment.
"...That boy is gone," Murtagh said coldly into the silence around them. "He died many years ago, and he isn't coming back."
Thorn just snorted. Murtagh raised an eyebrow in question.
"We'll see about that," was all Thorn replied.
Murtagh rolled his eyes and turned to look out of the window. Around them the endless fields just continued on. At least they were leaving for a place where there was a bit more to see.
Murtagh felt his eyes widen when his stomach suddenly began to protest. Thorn suddenly looked alarmed. Murtagh stood up calmly and walked past the other. He entered the tiny bathroom and closed the door. Then he promptly began to retch.
He heard Thorn knock on the door a second later, but he was too busy coughing up his last meal. If not he would have screamed for the other to leave him alone.
A few minutes later the retching finally stopped. Murtagh coughed and spat into the toilet. He sneered at the content before flushing it away. He dried himself off calmly and tried not to look at his reflection. Then he turned to the door and stepped outside. Thorn was waiting for him with a worried look on his face.
"...The rash is back," Thorn commented as Murtagh shouldered past him to get back into his seat.
Murtagh sneered at the hydra. He stole a quick look into the window and scowled. Indeed, there was a slight rash around the corners of his mouth.
"Fuck," he growled. "That's my last magician, mark my words."
Thorn just frowned at him.
"What?!" Murtagh snapped.
The rash would be gone in a few hours, but to Murtagh there seemed to be something else bothering Thorn.
"...Nothing," Thorn said at last. "You wouldn't believe me, anyway."
Murtagh just sneered at him. He pulled up the collar of his sweater and buried his chin in it. God, he hated allergic reactions. Fucking magicians, he knew they didn't even taste good. What the hell had he been thinking?
A/N Oh my, is that more plot twists I see? :lol:
I don't have a lot to say about this chapter, actually. But I'll clue you in on a few other things instead.
I have two more stories that I'm getting ready to introduce. Since both Black Mist and this fic are taking me a lot longer to write than I had anticipated, I'll probably be posting these stories when I don't have a fresh chapter for you guys. But that doesn't mean I'll be abandoning BM or Obsession! I'll simply be posting these stories in the weeks in-between the BM and Obsession updates.
On an even happier note, I have finally finished Brisingr! Though this is actually old news, I haven't been able to notify you before, unless you've been reading my profile. I try to update it regularly, so that the fic-summaries and my updating-schedule are always up-to-date. But like I've said on my profile; if you want to discuss something about the book with me, please PM me. That way the people that haven't been able to read the book won't have to shield away from reading the reviews.
And I have nothing more to say, actually. Hehe.
Andelan Vocabulary:
Bloyean – The word for "vampire"
