A/N: Hey everyone. :) I really have nothing to say here...
Disclaimer: I don't own the Inheritance Cycle or any of its characters.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Murtagh lifted his hand, rapping his knuckle against the wood. There was silence on the other side. He hadn't expected there to be a swift, inviting answer, but he wasn't about to leave. With more force, he knocked again. Once more, silence.
He wished Thorn could have fit in the hallway with him, and that he didn't have to do this alone. He could feel the dragon's presence, assuring him, urging him forward. Calming himself with a deep breath, he carefully pushed the door open. He cracked it just slightly, only enough to look through, unsure of what he would find. Zuriel stood at the far end of the room, looking directly at him. Her face was expressionless, but her unreadable stare frightened him.
She didn't invite him, but he entered her room anyway, closing the door behind himself.
Zuriel turned away, her attention going back to her medicines spread out on the table. She carefully tucked them back into her purse, clearing the table. He noticed her other bags packed by her feet, the room cleared of everything that was hers.
"You're leaving?" he realized.
She swallowed hard, as if it hurt her to speak. "My work here is done. There's no reason for me to stay."
His gaze fell to the floor, his mind looking for the words to say. He didn't know where to start, or what even needed to be said. He knew there was nothing left for her to do here. His work was also done, but he couldn't leave just yet. He originally hoped they would return to Uru'baen together, but he knew that was unlikely now. He just didn't want her to leave like this.
He shifted his weight uncomfortably.
"Is there something you need, Morzansson?" she asked, her gaze focused on her work. Her voice pulled him from his thoughts, the title she used striking a cord inside. He couldn't recall her ever calling him by it before. Not directly.
He faced her again, and his eyes were hard. "You have no right to be angry at me."
She turned to him, the emotion finally bleeding through into her eyes. "Excuse me?" she said.
"You are no different than I am. When I could have escaped, you turned me over to Galbatorix, knowing what he would do to me, knowing that you would force me into this life. You did your duty, just as I did mine. The only difference is that you did so willingly! You feed his madness by faithfully serving him, and by bringing on the death and destruction you claim to hate so much.
"You have no right to hate me, because I did not kill him. Galbatorix killed him."
Zuriel stared at him in shock, as if the words he spoke cut her like a sword never would. She clenched her jaw, remaining still, remaining calm, even though the tears built in her eyes. Her arms were quivering. "You don't think I know that?" she asked, her voice a soft hiss. "You don't think I know that I am inevitably to blame here? That I was the one who delivered my son to Galbatorix's hands?
"I hate him. I hated him for what he did to you. But I told myself, 'Better that I am here, a force to counteract his violence. At least I can save some of the people who are hurt by his madness.' But I deluded myself. And it cost me my son."
A tear fell from her eye, rolling down her cheek silently. He watched her, speechless. Of all the things that could have been said to him, he hadn't expected those words to come from her mouth.
For a moment, he just stood there, processing it all. There was nothing he could say to her, nothing to counteract her logic. He couldn't bear her emotional gaze any longer, and looked away. "I came to tell you...I did not kill Jasper. He ended his own life, choosing to sacrifice himself, sparing the Varden, and sparing you the pain he knew you would feel at his capture."
He heard a heavy breath escape her lips. She stared at him still, but said nothing.
After a few seconds of silence, Murtagh turned back to the door, knowing there was no more reason for him to stay. He took the handle. Before he could leave, the healer was suddenly against him, her head against his back, her hands gripping the front of his cloak. He felt her shake against him, convulsing as she cried, all the emotion she had ever held in coming out with her tears.
Murtagh turned to face her, placing his hands softly on her arms. She lost her strength and crumbled to the floor, gripping his legs for some sense of stability. He lowered himself to her level, gently gathering her in his arms. She clung to him desperately, her face pressed against his shoulder as she cried.
He silently offered her comfort, stroking her back, remembering all the times she had held him, and how with her simple touch, she had healed his deepest wounds.
A/N: Yeah, it was kinda short. But don't think I could've made it any longer. And tagging on another part just didn't seem right. Anyhoot...
Please review. ^_^
