Had to go to a trip meeting after school today. My friends and I hid from our French teacher. He inspires fear in us all.
On another note, MY EXAMS ARE FINALLY OVER :D YAYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY
So, now I no longer have to endlessly revise the Tsarist regime, WW2, and the abomination known as simultaneous equations, my time can once again be devoted to fanfiction :D
The Civil Wars are amazing.
To people who may have been confused about not being able to review the last chapter, I deleted the Update News which then messed up the chapter numbers, leading to the whole 'you've already reviewed this chapter' thing. I'm sorry.
Murtagh POV (For the last time...sob)
Arya and I bow respectfully at her door.
"No." The elf says, wringing her hands into the air, "I shall not break my oath for the second time, and especially not for the son of Morzan, I'm sorry princess,"
I can feel my jaw clenching, as it does every time someone names my parentage, the familiar anger rising, but I control it, just.
"Rhunon-elda, you did the very same thing for Eragon, and Murtagh is changed. He is no longer merely the son of Morzan," Arya counters, and I can hear a vague hint of anger in her own voice, something the other elf must pick up on.
"No, he's a traitor and a murderer too." Rhunon retorts, pointing in my direction angrily.
"I only did what I had to," I say, a somewhat routine thing now.
Rhunon laughs, "Anything could be justified under that excuse,"
"Rhunon –elda," another voice enters the fray.
Oh wonderful. My little brother. Just when he couldn't be self sacrificing enough.
"Rhunon-elda, hear me out." Eragon tells the stubborn elf, stepping fully into the forge. He looks towards me. "Murtagh, take out Zar'roc."
I stare at him questioningly, but obey after a moment, feeling the sword fit familiarly into my hand. Then, after a moment, it feels strange. Not quite suited for my arm. This is a sword for killing. For pain. I don't want to inflict that anymore.
"See?" Eragon says, "That sword no longer belongs to Murtagh, as it didn't for me. Is that proof enough?"
Rhunon looks at me, fixing me with her gaze before taking in how I'm holding Zar'roc. She mutters something in Elvish and turns towards the fireplace, remaining silent. Then, quickly, she turns around.
"Fine. You will do the same as your brother."
...
I stare in wonder at the new weapon before me. It's a hand and a half, just like my first sword, but thinner, more elegant than Zar'roc. The colour is red, as before, but of a different kind. Rather than blood red, it forms into the colour you get at daybreak, at sunset, the kind that only appears for a moment and disappears just as quickly.
What will you name it?
No idea.
You must have some idea
Happiness? To counteract Misery?
You want to name your sword Happiness? As what, a last laugh at whoever is cut down by it? To be cut down with happiness?
Fine, I'll rethink
A moment passes as I try to remember every sort of adjective in the Ancient Language.
Brisingr? Just to annoy him?
No. Thorn answers without a hint of mirth.
Water?
Earth?
I see your point.
I think harder. Then, I become certain.
Aeidail
Morning Star? Why?
It feels right.
"Aeidail!" I cry aloud, and just for a moment, the sword in my hands seems alive, a current of fire running through it, the colours all more vibrant, more beautiful. A smile draws across my face, my brother isn't the only one who can discover true names.
You'll need to stop competing with him you know. We'll be living with him soon.
No we won't, we'll be living near him. He'll be with her.
Arya.
Yes, Arya.
"I'm sorry, Rhunon-elda, I know you didn't want to be disturbed," comes her voice.
I don't look at her and she doesn't look at me, just the way we want it to be. My jaw sets again as she and Rhunon exchange some words on some meeting or other, until the presence of her is too much and I leave the forge, nodding to Rhunon as I leave.
"Murtagh! Murtagh!" comes Katrina's voice. I slow down to let her fall into step with me.
"Why are you and Nasuada not speaking?" she asks me, straight to the point. One of the things I like about her.
"I'm leaving with Eragon and Arya." Is my answer, straight to the point in return. "And it's the right thing to do. We'll be leaving in two days time, to the place Arya's people came from all those years ago."
Katrina's mouth drops open slightly before she regains herself.
"Well then why on earth isn't Nasuada coming with you?" she says incredulously.
"Her place is here. She knows that. I know that. That's all there is to it." I say briskly, lengthening my stride again.
"What rubbish!" Katrina says suddenly, "If she was in love with you she'd jump to come with you. "
"Thanks Katrina."
"Murtagh, I didn't mean it like that-" Katrina's face falls.
"I know." I say shortly before ducking into another pathway, breathing heavily.
She does love me. Doesn't she? No, of course she does. I don't know.
So I do the thing I do know, and I run.
Nasuada POV (two days later)
Jormunder points out where we will rebuild the new cities on the map, but as much as I try not to be, I'm distracted. I find myself staring out towards the window, towards the harbour, where the party will go after Eragon has finished doing something in the Spine, what I have no idea, only that Arya, Firnen and Saphira are the only ones going with him. I don't think of him. At least I try not to. His face comes into my mind unbidden, unwanted.
"Nasuada?" Jormunder's voice breaks through my reverie.
He looks at me knowingly before sitting in the chair across from me.
"Nasuada, when you were born and brought to Farthen Dur your father looked after you. In the later years he trusted me with half of that duty, and I hope you have come to trust me as he did."
"I have, I-"
"Then go to the harbour." He says, smiling at me, then serious. "If you don't you will regret it forever. Run away, now."
"I have duties here, tasks, the cities must be rebuilt, the-" I try to protest, "He doesn't want me to come."
Jormunder stares at me. "Look into your heart and you will know if that is true."
I do. I know.
"Go, Nasuada. Go, quickly." The words enter my ears. Somewhere I hear them. Somewhere someone else said them long ago.
I do what he would do, and I begin to run.
Murtagh POV
I keep my mind firmly on knotting the mast's ropes. That's all I have to do.
Twist, turn, push over, pull through.
Twist, turn, pull over, push through. Methodical. Roran and his family stand at the pier, watching me prepare to leave. Eragon is speaking to him. They embrace. Then, Roran waves towards me.
It takes a moment, but I skip the deck and make it over to where they are. Roran looks me in the eye and offers his hand towards me, and I take it. Then I get pulled into an embrace just as strong as Eragon's.
"Make sure he doesn't do anything too stupid out there," Roran says, releasing me. "Cousin."
I nod. Then I hug Katrina, smile at little Ismira, who stares up at me with her wide eyes. Then it's time.
The three of us board the ship with our little company of elves who wish to make the voyage with us. Arya takes my hand as we stand at the prow, the ship slowly making its way from the harbour docks. I look back once, towards the bay, just once.
A shadow. A horse. Her. I race forwards, straight to the bow as she races down towards the pier, before she dismounts and without any further ado, simply jumps into the water and begins to swim, strong, supple strokes until she gets to the ship and is pulled aboard, wet and shivering.
"I couldn't leave you," She manages to say once I've stopped holding her.
"Are you annoyed?"
My mouth opens slightly. "Why would I be? I didn't think-"
"I'd leave for you? I didn't either, then I realised how much of a mistake I was making," she answers, smiling at me for the first time in days.
Our moment passes, and Eragon and Arya come toward us, beaming, though Eragon's smile is slightly strained. He's leaving his only cousin, as much of a brother as me, on the beach. But, as Roran said, not everyone is meant to live forever. Death shapes us. But not us anymore. We are free.
"Murtagh?" Nasuada asks me, "What was Eragon doing in the Spine?"
"He went back to where he found Saphira." I answer, before whispering the full truth in her ear. She laughs in delight, the most beautiful sight.
Together, the four of us stand at the ship's bow, watching Roran and his family fade from view, as we go into the west, the prophecy finally fulfilled.
...
Okay. This feels weird. I've actually finished it. Well, apart from the epilogue.
HAPPY ENDINGS! And I said I wouldn't give you guys one when I first wrote this fic...I'm just too nice...
Of course, there were lots more moments I thought about putting in throughout the story, flashbacks, extras, but I'm happy with this...I may at some point upload these 'deleted scenes'...maybe...
Until then, stay tuned for the epilogue!