Thanks to all those guys who reviewed. Special thanks to Restrained Freedom and Brightwatcher, you guys have been totally awesome, and were actually the first ones to review! Thank you guys for all your support. Restrained Freedom you are certainly observant, and this chapter will be expanding more upon the reasons for Murtagh's pulling away. To everyone else who reviewed your pretty damn awesome too!
Brief note for those who read my other story: The Thirsty Hibiscus (TTH).
I have, after deep deliberation, made up my mind to scrap the original story. I realize that it was written out of sheer, blind and childish glee when I first joined this website. After literally reading every Nasuada, Murtagh fanfiction there was on this website at the time, I was so overly enthralled...that I just had, to write something. I did have a rather loose plot there...And so out of sheer respect of myself as both a writer and a reader, I could not continue on such a treacherous path (ie. writing such frivolous, unplanned, eye-soring ...*insert expletive here*)... And yes I just used Eyesore as a verb. *ahem*...anyway. . .
I do apologize to those who were in fact looking forward to more. Note: I am NOT scrapping the story completely. I am simply, replotting, rewriting, reorganizing and all that shazam. I am in the process of organizing everything right now, and have actually posted the prologue and two other chapters. So, for anyone still interested, I would totally appreciate it if you check it out. I have put my all into this one, having grown as a writer.
As promised this chapter continues right from where I left off. And don't worry it will indeed live up what was stated in the previous chapter to explore and hopefully clarify the reasons why Murtagh behaved the way he did in the previous chapter.
Note: This chapter is in fact a flashback recounting the day – continuing from Chapter 9 – and also has periods of flashbacks within itself of the encounter between Nasuada and Murtagh in the 'Golden Room' three days prior - mentioned also in Chapter 9 (this is the place he takes her to when he offered to show her his mother's things). The present - the scene in the rain is concluded at the end of this Chapter - showing the sum up of the day.
Also note: This is the LONGEST chapter of Highschool and Its Problems so far at 9000 odd words. Please bear with me here...There are several POV's and all that so things aren't boring. Enjoy!
This chapter is dedicated to Restrained Freedom and Brightwatcher who have stuck by me with this fic and reviewed consistently. Hope you guys like it...!
oh and to BrightWatcher...Roran will be coming further down in the story.
Wrote this listening to: Last to Know, and No More - Three Days Grace for anyone who cares.
Well, here is goes guys.
Chapter Ten
Kisses in the Rain Only Bring Pain II
. . .Three Days Earlier. . .
Deep brown eyes gazed into his attentively and for a moment there was hesitation. He had kept this locked away from his present life for so long, even he had forgotten what it had been like. He stared at it for a moment, heavy in his hands. The grainy texture of the aged leather at his fingertips made it seem like some aged artifact that they had discovered hidden under the wooden panel of the giant bed. Inhaling bravely, pale fingers then carefully brushed away the film of dust and cobwebs that had made home upon the worn leather cover. And ever so carefully, he opened it.
Murtagh had long imagined what he had looked like as a child…the memories that he had long repressed…long forgotten.
A day at the beach…
His mother's belly swollen with him, smiling, happy with an ice-cream cone in hand- the silver sun reflected in bright hazel eyes.
And then, he saw him. It was a lone picture, a close up, a rare shot of a genuine smile. It was awful seeing him happy as if capable of such human emotion… It was awful how the two looked so alike. Frosty blue eyes, hair blacker than midnight, light pink lips that curled in smirking mischief, tall... stately...Murtagh looked away, he could not bear anymore. He shoved the book into dark feminine hands and crawled unto the mahogany floors, breathing sharply.
A moment later, a darker presence joined him. Ebony skin almost as rich as the polished floors shone with the soft amber light of the lit candles. Nasuada slid down from her seat upon the bed to sit next to him on the floor. In her hand was the dreaded book...the dreaded book of memories.
He could not look. He thought that he was ready...that he could do this for her. She needed it ...or maybe it was more for him. Perhaps some sick part of him had but for a moment longed for the darkness that he had tried to escape for so many years...the darkness of his past. Blue eyes stilled to the floors as head sunk, black hair falling to shadow their gaze. They then widened, as a warm feminine body pressed against his shoulder. Sighing sharply to himself, Murtagh rested his head against Nasuada's own which she had leaned against his shoulder.
"I'm sorry." her voice was appropriately soft, even though they were all alone.
He turned to her in curiosity at her statement. "Sorry? For what..?"
"I shouldn't have..." she paused, turning to gaze up at him. "...allowed you to do this to yourself." Eyes then glanced back towards the photo album in her hand. She leaned forward, falling on her knees, and slowly rose from her stance, book in hand. Murtagh grasped her free hand and Nasuada turned back towards him.
"What are you doing?"
A somber look had crossed her features. "Putting it away. . ."
"No..." he interjected, tugging on her arm for her to sit again. Belatedly she complied.
A surprised Nasuada turned to Murtagh as he told her to "Open it.."
"Murtagh are you sure...?" Umber eyes looked uncertain.
"No."
. . .
-X-
Light brown eyes gazed at their surroundings boredly, and ever so often glanced at his watch. It was afternoon, the sun was high, yet the air was strangely chilled, and the sun's warmth unfelt. There was not one cloud in the sky and gazing upwards, Brom wondered to himself if there was truly a storm on the way. Glancing back at his watch he then sighed to himself, and shifted uncomfortably upon the stone bench.
Brom had never skipped school before…He remembered in the midst of a roasting fever, he had literally crawled out of bed and dragged himself to work. There was a pang of guilt as he thought of it…he wasn't even sick. Yet he stilled himself with reasoned thought. This was different…This was important.
He had asked to meet at the park, a place mutually convenient to them both; in truth however, Brom did not wish such a dark presence to be at his home. He did not truly know this man...did not know what he was capable of. They had conversed a few times by telephone and even once by email, yet had yet to meet in person. As Brom sat there alone on the bench, autumn leaves whipping through the air, he wondered to himself if this had been a good idea after all.
Eyes perked up as he saw a figure coming up the trail, and suddenly a strange anxiousness enveloped him. He remembered his words to his son in the living room, right after Nasuada had stalked out of the room silently dealing with the dreaded news of her father. "I'm not sure that we'll be able to keep Nasuada after all." (AN: Chapter 8 for anyone who doesn't remember!)
He remembered the lost look in his son's eyes afterward. The same one he had seen him sport whenever he mentioned his mother. Nasuada had become a part of their lives; if they lost her…Eragon would be devastated.
The man's face looked aged and haggard as such thoughts whirled constantly in mind. The figure had gotten closer up the trail and he could now see the dark ebony skin, thick curly hair and large almond eyes that they shared. His face fell at this. He had been hoping that it had been a lie. But this, there was no denying it, indeed the two looked very much alike.
"Assalamu alaikum…" Brom jolted from thought as the Islamic greeting poured from full, dark masculine lips. He paused a bit at the extended ebony hand, then belatedly shook it. The dark man sat beside him upon the bench.
"Brom, I believe…" The ebony man's voice was strangely calm, a bit raspy, yet did not hold the richness that Nasuada's had. Her voice was a little deep for a girls but he had learned to like it, it was unique, it was her,….it was her. Dear god, he wouldn't hear that voice again if this man got his way! The thought was bitter in his stomach.
"…Fadawar." Brom nodded, his voice laced with a tinge of hostility. The dark man turned to him, an almost devil smile carved into his lips.
"Nasuada belongs with me." Brom stated plainly getting straight to the point. His face had stilled in that same Principal authority that scared children and staff alike shitless when faced with it. This man however seemed unperturbed.
"I am her cousin…Her mother's, brother's child…Her only living relative." Was the dark reply.
"Half Brother…" Brom corrected thoroughly annoyed. " and Ajihad is not dead yet…" he stated coldly.
"But he will be…soon." Brom flinched at the truth of the stranger's words. Light brown eyes gazed into frozen black ones.
"Speaking of Ajihad, has she seen him as yet…?"The awful smile remained and Brom felt a surge of guilt up his spine.
"He does not wish to see her…" he murmured quietly. He then continued in thought. "He does not even know that I told her that he was ill…"
"Ajihad, told me to take care of her. That promise does not end upon his death." Brom then stated aloud folding his arms at his chest as if challenging the stranger.
He then frowned upon Fadawar's sudden laugh. "Family." He stated. "Family should take her of her, not a stranger. Family always wins, Brom. Are you willing to test it?" The slender man stood up, the orange leaves at his feet complimented the deep woody brown of his complexion.
"Nasuada has never met you…she doesn't even know you. What do you want with her anyway?" Brom almost spat. "She's at home here. She knows my family. She knows me...!"
"Blood is thicker than water, Brom." Came the calm, frigid reply. "Assalamu alaikum…I think I'll stay a little longer in this town of yours…" the words drifted through the wind as the dark man quickly slithered away from him. Brom sighed, head falling in frustration; this had not gone well at all.
-X-
A permanent grin was etched into the dark features of Nasuada's face as she remembered Orrin Larkin. Seeing him was like some miracle. She remembered him that summer, she eight, him twelve. They had known each other since before she was even old enough to talk. Orrin had been her playmate of sorts, the one constant in her life that she was bound to see every summer. Their parents had been business partners, but rather personal ones. Dinners, Concerts, Vacations, they spent them all together. She laughed inwardly, remembering the roundness of his face, the deep freckles and large round, ridiculous glasses that he had obviously all grew out of. The curly mass of sand blond hair remained however, and Nasuada thought it fitting as if it mimicked the eccentric personality of his that she had loved as a child.
For so long she had locked away that part of her life, deeming it dead, she had even forgotten about it...forgotten how lovely it had been. Orrin represented that light period of her life. With his sudden presence, it was like some god out there was sending her a sign. Perhaps...just perhaps... everything would turn out o.k. For the first time since the news she thought of her father and smiled.
"Someone's quite happy with herself." Nasuada snapped out of gleaming thought as a familiar voice echoed to her in the corridor. A more awkward smile returned as she realized that it was Thorn. School bag nowhere in sight, he sauntered over to her in the middle of the lonely hallway, red hair glinting from the fractured sunlight streaming from the window. Nasuada visibly fidgeted with her clothes as she waited for him to walk over.
"I was just...thinking that's all..." she murmured vaguely, grin fading to a temperate smile.
"What class are you sculling now?" She continued, snorting in laugh. Thorn's grin remained through obvious scoff.
"I don't scull classes…can't afford to." His face had stilled in calm. "Math teacher's called in sick today, so I have a free session right now."
"You?"
"Swimming…truancy's not my thing, either. I'm just late..." she murmured, clutching a little closer to her orange school bag.
She then smiled. "You know, today feels like a good day..."
"Yeah?" a playful smirk tugged at his lips. "What makes you say that...woman's intuition?"
"I dunno..." she chuckled a bit to herself, mind fleeting back to her childhood friend. "I just have that feeling." she shrugged as they began walking together. The gentle tap of their footsteps echoed on through the empty hallway as a moment of silence stilled between them.
"Hey Thorn..." The red head turned to her. Nasuada hesitated a moment in thought before continuing.
"What was Murtagh like…when he was younger I mean. I know that you too have been friends for a very long time."
A sudden seriousness crossed the teenagers face before he spoke. "He was….damaged." The three words left Nasuada silent. And Thorn turned to her returning a question of his own.
"Why do you ask…?" His tone held genuine curiosity. Nasuada avoided it however, instead turning attention to present situation.
"This is my class….I have to go."
Thorn merely nodded at her, curiosity etched across his face, yet he did not question her again. Instead he waved goodbye, watching her form as she slithered into the pool area. Sea green eyes blinked as he saw a spunky blond haired girl practically bound up to her smacking her playfully on the bum. Thorn smirked as he heard Nasuada squeal in protest, and the blond laughing, streaks of deep blue gleaming in her hair.
"Damn your butt's big!" she exclaimed, still laughing. Nasuada made a face at her, and fanned her off.
"Leave my bottom alone…" she squealed as Saphira made to smack her again. The ebony skin girl ran, bounding for the security of the changing rooms further inward, while her spunky friend followed, scooting after her and yelling about the size of her butt.
Thorn couldn't help but laugh to himself at the two. They reminded him so much of Murtagh and himself, well expect the girly squealing and butt smacking…that would never ever…ever happen. It was the sort of intimate relationship that they shared that appealed to him. He had been with Murtagh since as long as he could remember. His father had worked for Morzan for almost fifteen years, until that terrible night when they had taken him away.
Thorn had been four, but he could still remember the whirring siren of the police cars; Morzan eyes bloodshot and red. He remembered him stinking of hard whisky, screaming, cursing and struggling like a mad man against the five police officers dragging him through the door. He remembered his father's tall frame slumped in grief and shock... mirrored deep red hair flashing as he shook his head endlessly. He could still remember the small unconscious body of his friend bathed in his own blood being wheeled out by running paramedics. He still remembered the blaring light, the screaming, the chaos…
Sea green eyes were glazed over as they stared into the pool stadium. They were glazed with memories, memories that he doubted Murtagh could recall anymore… Memories that he shared. He still remembered... while Murtagh had spent all his remaining years, trying to forget, trying to erase what happened. And in a way, he had succeeded. He wouldn't doubt it if Murtagh could not recall one single thing that happened that night.
There was a soft sigh, as Thorn leaned against the opened entrance to the pool. A hopeful smile had stilled his face. Perhaps Nasuada was right. Perhaps of all days... this would be a good one. . .
A sudden noise, one of a smashed locker interrupted thought. Surprised, Thorn turned towards it. The sound of muffled voices enticed his attention. They were rough, one almost growling at the other which had been laced with venomous persistence. Curiosity getting the better of him, he silently tiptoed towards the corner where the two were conversing. He leaned in closer, then eyes widened as he realized that he knew those voices…
-X-
Saphira had kept her promise and had in secret been helping Nasuada learn how to swim. Improvement could be visibly seen, no longer was she clawing at the water for dear life, but rather had settled on to more gentler approach upon learning how to tread on her own. Soon after, Saphira had taught her the 'free style' and the 'back stroke', and Nasuada had admittedly caught on fast. She saw the blond haired girl grin at her with sharp teeth as she swam ..a bit awkwardly towards her on the pool's ledge. It was their swimming session of the day.
"How's it going dragon girl...?" Nasuada beamed up at her quite proud of herself as she finally made it over.
"Dragon girl?" Saphira questioned eyebrow propped in curiosity.
"Yea, I saw the tattoo on your back." Nasuada said before pulling herself out of the pool to sit beside her.
Saphira's face almost pulped at this as she hissed in warning. "Yea talk any louder and get me suspended!" She then leaned closer to a seated Nasuada, murmuring. "Student's aren't supposed to have tattoo's here..."
"You don't say..." Nasuada chortled in sarcasm, thoroughly enjoying her paranoid reaction to her statement. Saphira had even began glancing around suspiciously as if there were invisible people listening to their conversation.
"Dude...calm down. No one heard." she laughed as she stood and grabbed her towel from one of the benches. Saphira followed in kind standing beside her.
"Easy for you to say, you don't know just how impeccable the hearing of some of these air heads are." she quipped, planting herself on the bench beside her.
A comfortable silence stilled between them.
"Well that topic aside..." She began again twining one of her blue highlights between her fingers. "Have you noticed how boring class has become. "
Plopping herself down beside her, Nasuada's brow creased in curiosity. "How do you mean..?"
"I mean, the guys aren't even wolf whistling at girl's anymore. There's no drama, no love triangles, no raunchy gossip, ...no pregnancies ...no nothing..."
Nasuada jolted. "Pregnancies!"
Saphira merely shrugged her off. "What? it could happen here...! You know...one day..."
Her statement earned a small laugh and a shake of the head. "In such a strict Private school like Varden High, I doubt that Saphira..."
Another comfortable silence stilled between them as each girl was left to the strange world of her own mind. Nasuada held her towel and began drying the mass of fluffy curls on her head. She knew that she would have to put some products in it before it began frizzing and wondered anxiously to herself if she had remembered them.
"Well, would you look at that..." Saphira visibly sat up in her seat suddenly as dark blue eyes lingered towards the other side of the pool. Nasuada continued to dry her hair absentmindedly, not noting the interested tone her voice had adopted.
"Nasuada…" Saphira nudged her, eyes glued to a slender figure walking towards them. The girl merely grunted in reply, mind enveloped in its own world.
"Uh…Nasuada…" she nudged her harder, catching her in the ribs and Nasuada groaned in protest.
"What is it?" her tone had gotten sharp.
"Nauda…Nasuda…Whatever your name is, get up!" a sharp familiar feminine tone hounded at her. And in that moment Nasuada knew it was not Saphira who had called her this time. When she did finally glance up she was not in the least surprised to see Elva standing before her. Umber eyes immediately capturing their typical defensive nature, she slowly rose from her seat beside her friend, and stepped towards the dark haired girl.
"And you are?" Nasuada said as equally loudly. She smirked inwardly hearing Saphira's snickering behind her.
There was a soft growl from cherry red lips, and Nasuada's devilish smirk only managed to fuel Elva's displeasure. "You damn well know who I am. Let's stop playing games...Its about you and Murtagh. We need to talk." Her voice had gone seriously low, and slowly Nasuada began to sober up.
"Follow me." Elva turned to walk towards the empty bleachers towards the head of the pool. Barely glancing at Saphira, Nasuada teetered up behind her. There was a permanent frown etched in full dark lips...she had a feeling the day wouldn't be as wonderful as she thought it would be after all.
. . .
(AN: for anyone who's confused this is actually a flashback to three days before, just like in the beginning. *whispered tone* Ok. I'm gonna shut up now and disappear so you can continue reading…enjoy!)
Her smile enraptured him. It had been worth it somewhat…seeing him again. Blue eyes continued to gaze at her smile; the small flicker of light in umber eyes that he had not seen since she had heard about her father. And strangely, he found himself smiling back. Brown eyes turned away from his to glance at the picture again, and inevitably another smile sprung forth.
"I love this picture…" her voice was low, yet laced with sincerity. After slight contemplation the two had migrated from their spot on the smoothed floors unto the large bed; and had been there for almost two hours now, skimming through the large photo album. Thankfully there were very few pictures of his father, most were of his mother and himself. Belatedly, Murtagh glanced at the picture again, his smile dissipating to a thin contemplative line. In all honesty, it was like looking at someone else. He had been afraid, afraid of revisiting the past…afraid of remembering, but now faced with the snapshots of those memories, he could find...feel nothing. Nothing…. it did not unnerve him as it ought to have.
Ebony toned fingers smoothed across the thin plastic that kept the picture of four year old Murtagh undamaged. Nasuada continued to grin at how adorable he looked. His hair had been much shorter then and bright blue eyes stared innocently back at hers. He had a frightened look, like a deer caught in the headlights, and some cruel person had dressed him in a mimicked costume…a reindeer. With a brown skin suit, tiny antlers and a nose painted bright red, Nasuada forced herself to choke back a laugh.
"Rudolph?" she snickered softly as she gazed up at Murtagh again. It was strange how staring at the memories of another had made her pain lessen somewhat...or perhaps, perhaps it was knowing that of all people, he had showed them to her. The soft golden spreads crumpled beneath her, as she shifted unto her side to face him. Murtagh who lay beside her, merely cocked an eyebrow at her, a hint of a smile teasing light pink lips. Ivory toned fingers brushed against the same picture and unto her own and Nasuada turned away from him to gaze at them.
"Murtagh…." Her voice had gone to a whisper as she began shaking her head.
"Don't…" he began, mimicking the whispered tone that she had adopted. "Don't say anything…not yet."
Nasuada almost flinched when the hand that had rested on her own, reached up to brush against her cheek. She turned towards him, breath stopping in her chest. She felt her cheek flush as his fingers ever so slowly slipped to brush against her full lips. There was a look in his eye, a strange one, it was not quite the lust-filled one that she had seen him sport before. This one was different….
He leaned towards her as if to kiss her, but Nasuada had turned away. A sudden tightness seized her chest, and a terrible sinking feeling enveloped her. Brown eyes gazed at the album at her finger tips, then lingered to the bed spread beneath her.
"How much money are you going to make this time…?" her tone was not sharp or rigid, but rather held the gentleness that she had maintained through their conversation thus far. The memory of the bet or Murtagh's mocking of her afterward had not yet completely faded from mind, or from heart for that matter.
There was a sigh, a heaving one. Murtagh slumped midnight toned hair shadowing his face. His hand had retracted from her, and now clutched to the bed spread beneath them.
"Nasuada…" she did not turn to him.
"I understand…" she said instead, her vulnerability still fresh from her father's news. "It was a bet. I get it…but…don't –" she paused abruptly. She glanced back at him, lingering disappointment in her eyes. "don't do it again." She suddenly eased herself up into a sitting position and turned towards the edge of the bed, her back towards him.
"Nas-" He called her by the name he had heard Eragon use, opening his mouth to explain. Nothing poured forth.
"It's ok." she breathed, umber eyes settling upon him once more.
"I didn't expect you to really mean it anyway…I'm not your type, remember?" She wore a plastic smile as she slipped off the bed, repeating the same words he had said to her that first night in her room. Bending to find her shoes, she heard him slip off as well.
Not finding her shoes where she had left them, Nasuada stood up, frustration getting the better of already tethered emotions. She closed her eyes inhaling sharply as sudden choking sensation gripped her. Her father was dying...dying somewhere far away, and he didn't even want her to know...he didn't want her to be there- to hold his hand. For so many years they had been the only ones in each other's lives...There was..- there would be no one else..And he was going to just leave her in the dark -unaware and oblivious…and parentless.
And Murtagh, Nasuada did not know what to feel about him. His opal behaviour had her thoroughly confused. At one hand he behaved like a complete ass who embarrassed and insulted her purposefully all the time, and on the other he could be so sensitive, caring, like the only person who truly understood what she going through. Apart from her father, she had never felt such strong emotions for anyone else before... It scared her.
A sudden sigh escaped dark lips as she could feel tears forming behind closed lids. She could not afford to lose control now, not here...not in front of him. Forcing surfacing emotion deeper inwards, after few seconds the dreaded feeling passed. And assured that she had gained control, she slowly opened her eyes.
Nasuada was admittedly surprised to see Murtagh right in front of her. For a moment she had thought he had slipped off the bed to place the album back under the bed panels where they had found it. She gazed at him for a second in silence, the residue of buried hurt hidden in her eyes. There was an undecipherable look in his.
In unexpected movement he bounded towards her suddenly and pinned her shoulder first, to the wall. A sudden fear gripped her then and her breath drew ragged as she was forced to gaze into sharp blueness of his eyes. His body was pressed firmly against her own so she could not move. His face..his lips were only centimetres from hers and Nasuada felt as if those eyes pierced to her very core. She couldn't look away...she dared not look away. As she stood there eyes locked with ice blue ones, emotion held her, rather it seized her. And suddenly Nasuada found herself slumped in the 'strangers' arms. She shivered as it racked her - the tears, the hurt, the pain...the fucking irony. Some devil out there had fated her to this crap, to be orphaned at fifteen. It was like cancer had it out for her himself. Perhaps it would come for her next, unawares, and reunite her with relatives lost. Strangely, the thought did not comfort.
Ivory hands released her from pin hold to the wall and Nasuada slunk fully into Murtagh's arms. He held her there, silently as her face buried in his chest, her body shaking in rhythmic heaves of sorrow. Nasuada had not cried openly since she was twelve years old - at her mother's grave. She had kept everything locked up inside, channeling her grief into anger for so many years - afraid to grieve...afraid to be weak, for her father – for herself. Gods know how long Murtagh held her there, tightly, chin nuzzled in the short thick curly hair on her head...silent. In silence he understood...in silence, he comforted.
"Murtagh..." she sighed finally, tears and shaking subsided. She had suddenly become aware of how close he held her. Easing her face from his chest, she gazed up at him eyes puffy, cheeks stained with tears. He gazed down at her, his eyes unreadable.
"I meant it." he murmured belatedly. Her face twisted in confusion.
"Meant what?"
There was a soft smile that stilled over light pink lips, as ivory toned fingers brushed the remaining tears from her cheeks. Nasuada did not flinch at his touch then. She did not turn away when he leaned in again, kissing her lightly on the cheek. He slowly pulled away, face settled but an inch from her own. Noses touched ever so slightly. The heat from his body mingled with her own as the warmth of his breath nipped her. Umber eyes closed, as his lips gently brushed against hers. And for a moment she allowed herself to forget the anger and hurt she felt at her father.
Murtagh's hand around her clutched her closer as firm lips melted into her own. Nasuada sunk into the warm embrace, hand gripped tightly to his shirt as she kissed him back even harder than he had ever expected. Murtagh almost flinched as sharp white teeth nipped him lightly on the lip, her tongue sliding into his mouth when he had dared protest. Blue eyes slowly lidded at this, arm sliding to the small of her back. Hands dared roam her body, as he slowly backed her against the wall again.
Nasuada gasped as lips moved to caress her neck. She had never done this before. Murtagh had been the first boy she had ever kissed...the first boy that dared touch her.
A sudden heat enveloped her as his hands moved rather skilfully from her back to her chest. And for the first time Nasuada heard herself moan. The sound took her a back, and quickly fear enraptured her.
"Murtagh.." her tone held the same fear, and sensing it, kisses ceased and blue eyes settled to gaze into her own. Hands retracted respectfully, and he just stared at her, a look of understanding settled into his features. Fingers brushed against her fluffy curly hair however, and leaning forward again he pressed his lips against her forehead. When he released her, he found her mouth uncontrollably pulled into a smile.
"I thought you said I wasn't your type..." her tone was whispered, breathy. She sported the same teasing look he gave Eragon countless of times.
Blue eyes narrowed at her, as a faint teasing smile stilled his face. "Your not."
Nasuada's face then rippled with appreciation and a funny expression crossed his face at the sudden change.
"Thank you..." she murmured to him, as they slowly separated.
"For showing me the album that your mother made..." she continued. A look of comprehension crossed his features.
"Don't mention it." he nodded at her, mouth pulled in his usual playful smirk. Stepping backwards, he then slunk back unto the bed. Turning away from her, he grasped the handmade album which had been abandoned beside him. He then turned towards her again, a serious expression dominating his features.
"I really mean it Nasuada...don't mention it. Brom, doesn't know that I come up here, much more that I hid this album under the bed panels so many years ago. He's tried to keep this room 'secret' from Eragon and myself. It's the only remnant of some memory of my mother..." he sighed, tension in his voice. " He dumped everything else. Apart from the portrait in the hall, there's nothing else left." he paused in thought as Nasuada's face reverberated shock.
"... I doubt that Eragon even knows if this room exists."
"Wouldn't he know about the house's original master bedroom?" she questioned, the disturbed look settling on her features.
"Brom, doesn't mention much to him." he stated lowly, walking towards one of the candles and blowing it out. The room was suddenly filled in half shadow. Their silhouettes were black against the faded light.
"Why...?" Nasuada sat on the edge of the bed where he had been previously seated .
"Because he doesn't want him turning into me, Nasuada." His tone was stony as a look of unperturbed anger crossed his face. It then slipped as quickly as it had come. He shook his head, an almost bitter tone enveloping him.
"...the memories...they would be too much..."
"But...you seem fine.." Nasuada mumbled not comprehending.
"That's because.. I actually don't remember..."
. . .
-X-
"You looked like you've seen a ghost..." He had heard those words before...from Nasuada about a day or two earlier after he had showed her his parent's old room. Hearing those words again only brought the images reeling back towards him. Murtagh found himself slumped against the lockers in the hallway, sunk all the way to the floor, enveloped in the nightmare. His heart pounded within his chest, face blanched deathly white. Eyes were pulped wide and he drew each jagged breath like it was the last he would take. Thorn towered above him, a disturbed expression permanently etched into his face. Belatedly he bent down towards his friend, arm propping him up off the lockers.
"Murtagh, what the hell happened to you..?" Thorn demanded his tone cracked in concern. He had peaked from the corner, to see Murtagh and Elva conversing, rather ...arguing.
"Get off me..." the tone was warning enough. Murtagh's voice had sunk to gnarly growl. The venomous persistence remained however as Elva suddenly shoved him against the locker.
"We had an agreement, why would you want to screw me over now?" her tone was her usual one high one laced with agitation…It then abruptly lowered to a rough demanding one. "It's that little black whore isn't it…"
Murtagh's face visibly sunk at this and Thorn could see, so did his posture. "She's not a whore." He stated firmly, eyes regaining their fierceness before they sank into submissiveness. "I…don't want to do this anymore. It's annoyng. We're not even really together, I don't know why I agreed to this in the first place."
Elva's face twisted in ugly anger. "You agreed to this because you owe me, Morzanson." Her tone was more of a hiss. " Or would you want me to mail you all of Daddy's letters – the ones he wrote to you from Prison…the ones you never read or answer." A smile then shifted to a dark one. "Perhaps I should reroute them to your house, the original destination and have step-daddy Brom read all of 'em then kick you out of his-" She paused mockingly. "I mean your manor." Arms were planted at her hips as the look of horror swept across Murtagh's face. "Or perhaps the whole school would like to hear how sorry your daddy is for slashing your back open…for your mother slipping the gun into her mouth…"
"You lie! He murdered her!" Murtagh had shoved her off, and Elva stumbled backwards, falling unto the shiny floors with a soft thud. She scrambled to her feet as a rage filled the eyes of Morzan's son. His shoulders stood rigid as she stood a little way off from him for a split second a look of fear enrapturing her features.
"You think this girl's gonna help you, eh?" She hissed, then pointed to herself. "I'm the one…the one who's been reading those shitting letters for oh so long; Who's been writing back so you can keep that little shit house you call home; the one who knows everything Murtagh…who has kept it from you, just like you wanted!"
"For a price..!" She paused as Murtagh growled at her, arms folded at her chest.
" Get rid of her." She then stated untethered by the anger in his tone. " I don't want my reputation around her ruined. People have already started talking about that…" she paused a bit. "Girl..you've started hanging about with."
Murtagh looked like he was sick as Elva shoved a hand against his shoulder again, pinning him to the locker. "I want the stuff by Monday." She hissed in warning. "Don't bring it, and let's see what the school thinks about hearing Family stories instead of the announcements."
The slender girl then retracted, slender hands returning to her own body to fix the cheerleader's uniform that she had worn that day. Giving Murtagh a chirpy smile, she then pressed cherry red lips to his and walked away, murmuring loudly. "Bye sweetie…See ya Monday…"
Murtagh looked exasperated as he slumped against the lockers as Elva slithered like a viper further down into the corridors towards Thorn's hidden form and disappeared into the adjoining hall. Thorn watched in silent horror from the corner as she passed him – the sickening smile- aimed his way as well. He stared at her silently instead still partly in shock – not registering that she was slithering down the same hall where he had left Nasuada at the pool.
He was about to step forward when he saw Murtagh jolt from his position suddenly. Blue eyes stared raggedly, wildly – as head twisted rapidly as if in search of something. But…instead of curiosity, there was horror. He then saw Murtagh bang against the lockers as if something had pushed him, he was murmuring something desperately - eyes pulped widely from their sockets. Thorn jolted scrambling towards his friend who had fallen to the floor, backed against the lockers and as he got closer – realized was murmuring to himself.
"No…No…!" Thorn looked utterly disturbed as he neared his friend, who was screaming lowly - whose chest now fluttered at rabid speed as air whistled in and out of it roughly, his face radiating panic. "Get away from me…!" he yelled, but Thorn knew he wasn't talking to him. Murtagh was instead, staring behind him. Pale hands clamped down at his ears, and Murtagh scrunched into a fetal position, murmuring lowly to himself as tears streamed down his face. "Go away…go away. Go away!" the voice of his friend was desperate, and Thorn cringed, a sudden panic seizing his chest. It was happening again.
...It was happening again…
The thought sent Thorn reeling back to memories – incidents that he thought would never have happened again. It had been so long ago, when Murtagh had snapped…and as he stared at his friend slumped against the lockers Thorn felt himself cringe all over again – the same sickened feeling began choking him as it did when Murtagh was eight – when he had nearly drowned – in the middle school pool, saying that his father had pushed him in. Thorn remembered believing him then, but no one else had. Morzan was in jail. He had been in prison since Murtagh was four. And it was after the terrible incident, that he had begun hearing his father's voice…then…seeing him.
"Murtagh, What the hell has happened to you…?" Thorn demanded again. His fingers yanked Murtagh as he continued to howl at the empty space behind Thorn. Unexpectedly, the red head slapped him…hard – on the cheek.
"Get a hold of yourself, Murtagh...!" He growled almost kindly. His voice was tense in concern, and Murtagh stared gapingly at him, like a child who had been smacked hard without reason. Tears tracked their way slowly down his face as blue eyes turned to the space behind Thorn. Thorn noticed how his body slunk afterward, almost heaving from relief. Eyes blinked, breathing began to slow and Thorn knew that Morzan…or the Morzan of Murtagh's mind…had gone – for now.
The dark haired boy swallowed harshly as he gazed back at his red haired best friend. Belatedly he roughly wiped away the tears from his own cheeks and stared out at the wall of lockers that dotted the hallway.
"What are you doing here…?" he murmured softly, for the most part pushing Thorn's protective hands gently away from him. Pride – Thorn could tell…Murtagh always pretended he didn't need anyone.
"Nasuada…" Thorn murmured back. "I walked her to her class…and then I heard you and Elva – arguing." He gestured towards the end of the hallway that dipped into a fork, where Elva had disappeared.
Murtagh seemed to tense at the name of the girl…which girl – Thorn could not tell. Murtagh sighed, long and harsh and turned towards his friend again, his face tired.
"I don't want to go back there, Thorn." He slumped against the lockers in his seated position. His friend slunk unto the floor of the hallway next to him.
"I won't let them take you back…Your never going back to that –place - again " he soothed. For a moment Murtagh kept silent, then nodded – believing him.
"What are you going to do about Elva..?" he changed the topic knowing that Murtagh would appreciate the shift. That place had been hell for him, he didn't want him remembering it.
There was a low growl at mention of her name and an exasperated tone. "I don't know…I don't want to keep doing this, but…she'll…" He swallowed harshly recalling the venomous threats she made.
Thorn nodded slowly – he didn't need Murtagh to clarify her hateful words – he had heard them all. "What about Nasuada.." His statement was hesitant, as he turned towards his friend – noting the small smile that slivered upon his lips at mention of her name – then a look of what appeared to be sorrow swallowed it.
"I'll have to…" He paused head shaking as a bitter tone clung wretchedly to his voice. "I can't do that to her, Thorn." He turned to him again, blue eyes sunken. "She trusts me…Her father is dying. She needs-"
"You need yourself." The friend stated lowly and firmly. "…sane." He continued. "I've seen you like this before Murtagh…hissing and wild- your seeing things again aren't you…hearing things?" Murtagh turned stubbornly away from him, refusing to answer. Thorn grew desperate.
"Do you want them to send you back?" He murmured to his friend who sat silently, head drooped. "And if Elva makes good on her threat – the whole school would know..including Brom and he could kick you out of the house. You know his rage when it comes to Morzan and his letters– then Morzan's lawyer could have all of you retracted from his money for violating the conditions of the judge's ruling." He paused a bit before adding for good measure. "And then you'll all have nothing."
Murtagh remained silent as the heaviness of Thorn's words weighed down upon him – all of it true. Eyes flitted down across the lone stretch of hallway as the announcements chipped in informing the students that classes would soon come to an end – half day – because of the impending storm. Murtagh tensed as a familiar figure lingered from where she had disappeared mere minutes ago. Elva cruised down the hall, smiling sweetly –sickeningly - at them as a billow of long black hair flashed about her. As she passed them, Thorn growled at her, and Elva merely ignored him, ducking to the corner and into another corridor where her locker was.
Thorn grasped the hand of his friend – whose mind he wondered to himself - was as fragile as it once was before? He then helped him to stand, as he did as well. Murtagh slunk his school bag over a tired shoulder, the dreadful decisions he would have to make written all over his face. Thorn nodded to him, as he helped him down the corridor – the opposite way.
"I know you'll do the right thing…"
-Silence.
-X-
Saphira had amused herself with picking at the sapphire toned highlights that she had worn for the longest while. For a moment – she contemplated dying them purple instead but almost immediately decided against it. She was a blue kinda' girl – not purple. She was in the least to say surprised when Elva had bounded up to she and Nasuada as they sat by the pool, but it was Nasuada's following her to talk that intrigued her the most. She had waited – well for practically half a minute – before the two had emerged from the privacy of the empty bleachers that the school had installed about a good twenty yards from the pool. She remembered the harsh – searing look on Elva's face as she emerged, and the angry, tethered – confused one of her new friend Nasuada.
What made the matter even worse was Nasuada's silence thereafter. She had said nothing…absolutely nothing about it, even minutes after the announcement that school would be cut short…nothing in the changing room…and she still remained silent even now after their swimming class as they took their books and other belongings from the lockers in the hall.
"What the heck did the twat say to you anyway, Nasuada…?" for the first time she attempted to broach the subject having realized in all finality that the dark skinned girl had absolutely no intention of bringing it up. Saphira noted the bewildered expression on Nasuada's face as she emptied the remaining books from her locker and into her orange school bag. A sharp sigh punctuated the momentary silence then Nasuada finally spilled the beans.
"She wants me to stay away from him…Murtagh." she murmured her face still in that dazed state. Saphira looked at her strangely.
"And are you…?"
"No." she turned to her. "Not on my part, but then she said something about me being Murtagh's weight, dragging him down, and that I'm messing him up…That she's his girlfriend and that I have no right…" she shook her head, regaining herself abruptly, and Saphira seemed more settled at the change. The stubborn-feisty hot headed girl had returned, right in time as she noted Eragon walking towards them from the hall. For a moment dark blue eyes glinted at the walking figure taking him in – ears not registering the words of Nasuada as she continued to complain about Elva.
"Who the hell does she think she is..." she heard Nasuada hiss in the hazy background as her gaze fixed upon the handsome figure of Eragon moving closer towards them.
Eragon was slender, muscular…With sharp hazel eyes that were usually wide with fright or slanted with laughter. Blond hair was almost always combed neatly back, yet still managed to spike almost cutely at the top. In rare moments she had caught him with dark framed glasses planted neatly above his nose - book propped thoughtfully in front of him in the Library. She had seen him quiet then, alone…his natural side – without that Arya the darker presence in sight. Enveloped in his literature he had never...ever seen her. He was tall, much taller by herself than the looks of it, as Nasuada was taller than her and he had been taller than the dark skinned girl. But Saphira, despite hanging around people who were in almost utter opposition to such obvious decorum and studiousness, found herself liking the young man. Sharp teeth were partly exposed in a smile as he walked up to them, and dark blue eyes openly glanced him up and down, not caring if he noticed her. The Principal's son however did not.
"Skinny old –"
"Hey Nasuada…" Saphira heard the last of Nasuada's rant (which she had not been listening to) interrupted by Eragon's rather cheerful greeting. He smiled at his friend, and then a little more shyly at Saphira who had an intense gaze set upon him.
"Erh hello…" he stuttered a little unnerved by Saphira's staring. He then turned back towards Nasuada. " Murtagh's said, whenever you're ready to go. I think he's in the parking lot waiting, Dad called…" he flashed his cell phone at her. "He said he wants us home as soon as possible so everything can be done for the storm preparation." Nasuada whose intense look of hatred -while ranting- had slipped upon interruption of her friend now sported a more friendly look. She nodded at him as she closed her locker and slung her school bag around her back. Having collected their things already, the three then stepped down the corridors, school bags slung in various positions and made their way slowly to the front of the school where the parking lot was.
Saphira could tell that Nasuada and Eragon were close. They had linked their arms in a loose knot of ivory and ebony as they all stepped out down the slanted pathway at the school's entrance leading into the grassy lawn and then the parking lot. Saphira had followed them there silently watching the two, as Eragon blabbered on about his day to her, and Nasuada's husky rich tone was punctuated with genuine laughter at moments of humour he had shared. Politely they had included her in conversation, but it had been different then. She felt herself a weight to the otherwise free flowing chatter and rather had settled on to watch the two in slight amazement, not at all bothered or feeling like a third wheel.
In slight Saphira, envied Nasuada somewhat...the connection she had with him. She, herself had never been close to anyone really...it was like some force inside her had always been searching for that perfect person, that soul companion that she had not found as yet. She had hesitations towards aiming such towards Eragon, but their was an undeniable attraction there - not only because she found him handsome - but there was something else...she felt drawn to him, like a being to another being.
"Hey.." the sound was rude almost as it broke her from the reflection. Saphira had not realized that they had reached the vehicle so quickly. She blinked finding herself, arm linked with Nasuada (when the hell did that happen?) whose other arm had remained knotted with Eragon, standing before a relaxed Murtagh who had settled himself upon the bonnet of the car. He had been obviously waiting for the two.
"Took you long enough..." she heard the dark haired boy say. Dark blue eyes narrowed at his figure. He was different - she noted. For years she had been used to the arrogant, Murtagh - who hung around with his posse of trouble makers and with his union with Elva Fantismo had ensured himself a run in the cool kids circle for life. This was not the same Murtagh. Saphira watched him with silent eyes as the others - too busy blabbering to one another seemed oblivious to this change. His tone subdued, arms hung almost loosely from his sides in ...defeat? as he slipped from the bonnet of the vehicle and planted firm feet unto the cooled asphalt of the parking lot. The sky in appropriateness had seemingly readied itself for the pending onslaught - streaks of sallow gray hue had broken out across the sky in dark ugly splotches that at first glance looked like sores . The few cumulonimbus clouds looked like towering black columns in the sky.
"Sorry, about that." she heard Nasuada apologize to the youth. He gazed at her, nodding ever so slightly. Saphira's eyes narrowed at the gaze he gave her...it was...conflicted to say the least. Eragon remained completely oblivious as did Nasuada as they bounded towards the back of the vehicle. Stealing into the driver's seat the older brother then clicked the button and the trunk flew open. Nasuada stuffed her bags into the trunk as did Eragon and they headed towards the doors.
"Bye...Saphira." The girl with the dark blue eyes felt her stomach almost flutter as Eragon said her name, waving to her with a more confident smile stilled in his face. He then slipped into the backseat where Murtagh had obviously flung his own belongings. There was no room for Nasuada around the back. She found herself smiling back, as Nasuada bounded up to her and grabbed her unawares into a hug. Before the shorter girl could protest, Nasuada had retracted, and then in hesitation made a sudden move. Saphira found herself gasping in more surprise than pain as a dark hand smacked her squarely on the bum. She then grinned at her friend with sharp teeth, as Nasuada hissed playfully.
"That's for swimming class today." she murmured grinning back to her as she then opened the car door and slipped into the seat adjacent Murtagh. Winding down the windows, she then yelled.
"Stay safe Dragon girl!" Saphira grinned shaking her head and waving back as the car pulled out of the parking lot. She glimpsed Eragon seated- or more squashed uncomfortably in the back by Murtagh's things. Dark blue eyes then glanced at the front of the car where Nasuada and Murtagh were seated before it pulled out of view and sped down into the line of traffic heading towards the school's exit. Dark ocean blue eyes narrowed again, the blue blond streaks of loose hair whipping in the wind. There was something there...in that look Murtagh gave an oblivious Nasuada. She had seen it before. It was the look that guys gave girls before...Saphira cringed at the thought, her stomach suddenly freezing...before they broke their hearts.
. . .
"It's me ...and its you." his voice softened significantly." You don't really know me - and I don't want you to..." He stumbled closer to her, blue eyes piercing at her hollow face. "If I continue like this...with you...all those years of- " he paused tension evident in clenched jaw. He continued with a tentative tone.
"They would have been for nothing," He murmured the last before turning and slowly walking away towards the Manor. " and then I'll be left even more broken..."
His words haunted her as she stood alone in the pouring rain. If only Saphira had warned her…or perhaps Nasuada wouldn't have believed her anyway. She thought that she and Murtagh had formed a connection of sorts - thought that he understood her and she him in the Golden Room those three days ago. She remembered his kisses as she stood there dejected almost as the splitting drops ripped easily through her cardigan through her uniform and unto nerve numbed skin. She was jittering, from the cold…from the tears…she didn't know anymore.
Murtagh had left her…silently walking away ignoring the soft gasps that slithered through her rain numbed lips - her calling him twice almost desperately. He had left her there...it was that - not his words that hurt the most. Feet stood there planted as water gushed in heavy drones across the pavement, gathering from various puddles and pooling together forming gushing streams that trailed around her feet. The rain was rhythmic in chaotic sounds as a streak of thunder tore through the rain drop symphony. Its sound resounded like a blaring trumpet across an ensemble of lulling flutes...it seemed to call down even more rain. She felt..suddenly heavy...feet moved...rather trudged achingly towards the colossal Manor before her. The rain seared against her...she melted with it, feeling one with the chaotic orchestra. A streak of lightning flew dangerously across the sky.
The storm was coming...
Nasuada stepped up towards the large arched doors of the Bromson's home. Her mind numb, her body rattling in confused...sadness as rain tore down upon her.
...The Storm was coming...
Well...Finally done! Jesus! *head falls upon keyboard in triumphic tiredness* *manical laugh rips through as face remains planted upon keyboard*
Yes...I did it my loverlees! I managed to explain everything while yes...managing to procure even further suspense...with riveting questions such as:
a) WHAT THE FEGGING HELL WAS THAT PLACE THAT MURTAGH WAS SENT TO!
and...
b) WHO THE BACKSIDE (note Jamaican mild swear word) SENT HIM THERE!
and...
c) WHAT IS THIS DEAL THAT ELVA AND MURTAGH HAVE?
d) WHAT THE HECK IS UP WITH FADAWAR AND THAT STRANGE MEETING WITH BROM?
and...why am I typing in caps...?
Note: I gave my absolute all in this...I just hope you guys can give long reviews if possible...please. It would be greatly appreciated.
ok...you guys can ask away though, I know theres sooo much more questions there. I managed to stuff everything that should have been in about three to four chapters into part1 and part 2. Well, now you guys know the reason for Murtagh dropping Nasuada like a hot pancake...Hopefully it wasn't confusing and I really hope you enjoyed reading as much as I did writing it.