I do not own this… I am so sick and tired of disclaimers…
XXXXXXXX And yes, I will continue to use these for scene changes because I can't find anything better that the computer won't erase.
Shin, shin, shin, shin thud-
Murtagh swore and hopped on his un-landed on foot. He'd been sharpening his sword after the latest skirmish but had been distracted by shouting and dropped the whetstone on his foot. The stone lay on the bloodstained ground now. Yeah, just sit there and look all innocent. You're evil, you know that?
He plucked the stone from the dirt, wiped it on his shirt, and tucked it into his pocket before going to see what the shouting was all about.
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"Was I not clear on this? You were to pack your things, get out of Trondjheim and Farthen Dur, and hide with the rest of the women and children. I made this quite clear to you."
Murtagh bit back a smile as he watched Ajihad chastise Nasuada, sputtering vehemently. The fiery-tempered, beautiful girl had, as he had rather expected, insisted on taking part in the fighting.
He was not at all surprised. It was unreasonable to expect any of the women who had given up their lives to join the Varden to abandon it to Urgals, but Nasuada had built her entire existence around promoting its welfare. Of course she would defend it.
As for Ajihad's protestations that Nasuada was too young, she was about Murtagh's age, and both of them were considerably older than not only Eragon, who was also currently watching father and daughter argue, but also a sizeable portion of the Varden's army. It was quite plain to Murtagh that Ajihad was just being a paranoid father.
Well, that's one difference between me and her. She still has a father- heck, she ever had a father who rated the term. Even if he's overprotective.
Eragon caught Murtagh's eye and smirked for a split second. Murtagh winked back. The young Rider had more or less recovered, and was supposed to be conferring with Ajihad. However, the leader of the Varden was… busy at the moment.
Murtagh wasn't quite sure what he thought of Eragon. Positive thoughts, on the whole. The two of them were so similar that it would have been impossible for either of them to dislike much of the other without automatically applying the same emotion to himself.
But Eragon was, in Murtagh's opinion, rather naïve. Sheltered. Relying mostly on luck and Saphira.
Ajihad finally finished upbraiding Nasuada and turned to Eragon. Leader and Rider walked away for privacy while they talked.
That left Murtagh and Nasuada off by themselves. Murtagh felt rather awkward around her. Despite what Eragon seemed to think when enquiring about why exactly Murtagh didn't want to go to the Varden, Murtagh had never really paid that much attention to women. He was a little busy focusing on survival to go down that road.
At least that's what he told himself.
If he had been honest with himself, he didn't want to pass on his curse to anyone else. The whole world hated him just because he was Morzan's son- what would they do to anyone he fell in love with, or any children they had? Not to mention it was entirely possible that he would treat them like Morzan had treated him and his mother…
His ruminations were cut short when Nasuada freed him from his own mind by simply smiling at him and greeting him politely. He automatically switched to conversation mode. It was simple, really. Most conversations followed a predictable pattern.
He returned her greeting, avoiding commenting on the familial exchange he had just been privy to. They moved on to polite inquiries as to each other's welfare, to which the other replied with a phrase indicating a vaguely positive state of being. Typical.
The conversation became somewhat more interesting when Nasuada volunteered a small amount of information about Ajihad's plans, which he volunteered to join. He complimented her on her bravery in joining the battle, but refrained from elaborating since Ajihad was returning.
A few polite orders from the Varden's leader dispersed the group, but Nasuada followed him. Curious, he turned to her.
"Nasuada? Is there something I ca-"
She cut him off by pressing her lips to his.
Startled, he waited a moment before leaning into the kiss, enjoying it for a moment.
Then Nasuada broke it off and took off without a backward glance.
Murtagh wandered back to his sleeping chamber, smiling.
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On the tenth day of Christmas, the ten lords-a-leaping tripped and crashed in a most unlordly manner.
I know, kind of lame, but it's the best I can do. I don't have a lot to work with. Ten lords? Come on. Whoever wrote that stupid song could have come up with something a little more creative…