A/N: I hope that Eragon daring to do this is not too unrealistic. It's just that at some point in my story he has to face his experiences and yeah… here's part of it. Now read!

Reviews:

-Jack Skellington's Mistress: I'm sorry, I couldn't :( see A/N of the last chap

-Tears Falling Freely: "Certain parts"? What could you mean by that? xD

-animeluva713: I'm also waiting for this stuff xD and I'm really happy that I'm not the only crazy person out there.

-orene treke: To be honest, I don't know yet… there's a gap in my notes coming up quickly and I still have to figure out what will happen there… well, I got three hours of my Spanish class tomorrow, that should be enough time to ponder about this. xD

-Zack-Cody-Dylan-Cole: I'm such a weak fluff lover. I don't think I'll ever manage to write anything without it ;)

-Drowned Hopes: Shaeldryn plus cute equals very intense love affair. ;)

-Semjaza: Uh, uhm, err... xD

Progress

3rd Hunting Moon

The sun had just passed its zenith when they decided to go back home. Eragon felt closer to Murtagh than he had ever before, as if a silent and unseen bond that had been building for a while was now surfacing. He had no doubt that Murtagh felt it, too, although he was deep in thought at the moment, scuffling through the leaves on the ground. Eragon walked next to him, too occupied with all that happened this day to start a conversation. When his brother addressed him he nearly jumped out of surprise.

"You know this can't go on forever." Murtagh was very serious.

Eragon sighed. That was one of the things he constantly ignored. "Yes… but I don't like thinking about it."

"Me neither," Murtagh shrugged, "but maybe we should start by working up what has happened in the last months…"

"I don't like thinking about times when you were my enemy!" That was truly a horrible thought.

Murtagh put an arm around Eragon's shoulder and gave him a small kiss on the temple. "I don't only don't like it, I hate it." He stepped away again, folding his arms while walking. "I guess what bothers me most is… how were you captured? You're mighty when you're not…well, like now." he waved a hand dismissingly. "Even more so when you have your magic. I never thought anyone besides me or the king could overcome that. I mean, there's also your very deadly blue lady."

Eragon grunted. "You like being stronger than me, don't you?" He meant it half in joke, half in earnest.

Murtagh smiled. "I'm older. If I was weaker, I'd feel really bad." He turned serious again. "No, truth is that I've learned some rather bad stuff. 'Dark magic' some call it. You can't do much with elvish knowledge against it."

"Unfortunately not. So, do you think there are others that the king has taught?"

Murtagh narrowed his eyes. "Sure, he's got a small army of magicians… but you're more powerful than they are. What happened in the north, Eragon? Saphira has hinted something, and likewise has the king, but it still doesn't make sense to me."

Eragon was silent for a while. Murtagh did not know. Was that good or bad? "A new shade."

"What?" Murtagh stared at him in disbelief. "That can't be, I would know."

Eragon shrugged uncomfortably. "Apparently you don't. I've thought about it for some time, but it can't be anything else. I can't tell you much, though. He was there only for the fight and for blocking my magic – that hurt, by the way. He left right after that. And I also can't really judge his strength. The day before, Saphira and I had fought a small division of empire troops and were both weakened and injured. I don't know what would have happened if we had been rested and fit." He felt cold rise inside of him. "Although… I hate to admit it, but he would still have had a chance, I think."

Murtagh grabbed the twig of a hazel bush and broke it violently into several pieces. "But that's impossible. I'm neither deaf, nor blind, nor stupid, nor whatever. It's… Of course Galbatorix doesn't trust me, I'm not my father - our father, for that matter – but training a shade in secrecy for so long that he gets as powerful as you describe him… these are bad news."

"Bad news herald a bad future." Eragon had a lump in his throat. He had closed his eyes to reality for too long, concentrating only on his relationship with Murtagh. In the world outside there was still a war, there was still a tyrant subjugating the people of Alagaësia. Somewhere Nasuada and Arya were still fighting, together with all of the Varden, just as he also should. He wondered what they knew about his whereabouts. Did they know he had been captured? Did they maybe think he was dead? His disappearance would certainly have increased the Varden efforts to get hold of Murtagh. He was Galbatorix' man on the battlefield, the most powerful weapon the king had...

Eragon could not suppress a sob and felt tears blur his vision. He wiped his eyes angrily. Suddenly Murtagh was there and pulled him into an embrace. Eragon heard him murmur sounds of comfort into his ear, but could not make out what he was saying. After a while he freed himself from his brother's arms, somewhat mad at himself for being so emotional. But at the moment he saw only the darkest of futures ahead. "What shall we do? I can't stay and hide here forever and also it can't be too long anymore until the king calls for you. I can't let you fight the Varden, but above all I can't fight you." Eragon was desperate and knew it shone through in his voice. Very quietly he added: "I can't imagine being without you, not even for one day."

Murtagh stood to his left, arms hanging at his side, looking sad but resolute. "I don't know what we can do. But I will not let anything come between us; I've waited far too long for you. I can't come with you to the Varden – both they and the king will probably do anything they can to kill me then. Of course I can't fight you, that's absurd. But also I can't run for it, because I can't leave you alone in this conflict… You're right, it is a rather bad future. However," his voice was rising, "I don't think we should give up on hope yet. You and me and our dragons. Not just two Riders, but also the blood bond… Don't tell me it's not worth anything." He looked around as if he was trying to convince a large audience. Eventually his eyes came to rest on the only person that was there. "I really don't know what we can do, but let's start out small, one step after the other. First of all you need to hold a sword again."

Eragon smiled half-heartedly. "Are you not supposed to be the pessimistic one of us? The one who doesn't speak much?"

Murtagh chuckled. "You're right yet another time. But if you're so gloomy…"

Murtagh splashed the ice-cold water on his face and rubbed it along his neck before he kicked the bucket back into the well. He felt a few drops run down his back and shivered. The light was fading rapidly and he hurried over to the house. He had been sparring all afternoon with Eragon and was feeling the strain of it. He could hardly imagine how exhausted the younger one must be, but Eragon had insisted to fight until he could literally not hold the sword any longer.

Eragon had gone inside about two hours ago and Murtagh had busied himself looking after the dragons. It was not like they needed him to, but Thorn and Saphira were united in voicing their complaints about being bored and feeling neglected. They had come to the conclusion that Breoch was not the centre of the word, after all, and that the leisure activities for dragons were rather limited. Murtagh had ignored their protests completely, knowing they were not serious about it. Instead he had begun scrubbing their scales where he knew they liked it best and once they had stopped chattering, he had introduced them to the more urgent problem of finding a way to get out of the whole affair nicely. That had caused an immediate silence.

The Rider himself had not been able to stay focused on the topic for long. His thoughts had wandered back to the sparring and he could not help but admire the determination and effort Eragon had put into it – and the beautiful body he knew to be underneath those clothes that had been drenched in sweat.

It had quickly led to remembering this morning, which still amazed Murtagh. Eragon had surprised him in more than one way… it was simply overwhelming.

Murtagh realized that he had been standing in front of the main door for minutes and swiftly stepped inside. He went to the kitchen, noticed everything to be untouched and grabbed some vegetables and beef with the purpose to cook a stew. While it was simmering, he walked upstairs and found his brother fast asleep on the blanket, completely dressed, his boots still on his feet, which were hanging over the side of the bed. Shaking his head, Murtagh went over to him and pulled off the shoes, turned him on the bed and pulled at the blanket to cover Eragon with it. Then he started a fire and returned downstairs. During the hour that the contents of the little cauldron were boiling he tried to concentrate.

A new shade. It was yet another problem on the long list in his head. But one to deal with at a later point in time. The more imminent future was worrying him the most. What should he do? He was sure he could get Eragon out of the king's reach safely, but he could not go with him. At the same time he could not stay behind, either. This was hell.

Automatically he started thinking once more of something less negative. Would Eragon let him come as close again tonight? Murtagh was craving it.

With a sigh he grabbed a loaf of bread and the stew and went back to his brother. He did not like waking him, but Eragon had to eat.

Eragon twitched his cheek. A really annoying fly was bugging him, landing again and again on his face. All he wanted to do was sleep, but the beast would not let him. There it was again, and he had enough. He raised his hand and let it fall down, hoping to kill the insect. Shortly before he had half-consciously estimated to make contact, his hand was being grabbed and he heard a bewildered deep voice: "Don't beat me, for fate's sake. I'm just trying to wake you."

Eragon opened his eyes and saw Murtagh right in front of his face, one corner of the mouth slowly turning upwards. He must have been kissing him. "Oh." He tried to sit up, but every muscle in his body screamed in protest. "Ouch. I'll never be able to move again… Sorry for the attempted slapping, I thought you were a fly." Eragon laughed quietly. "What are you thinking, waking me from my well-deserved sleep?"

Murtagh moved swiftly behind his back and seated himself on the mattress. Suddenly Eragon felt two strong hands on his shoulders, massaging him gently. Groaning contentedly he leaned back and enjoyed the treatment.

"Use your nose, brother, then you'll be able to answer that question on your own."

Eragon sniffed the air and unbidden his stomach grumbled audibly. "Mhmm, I smell… meat, onions and… cabbage?" Whatever it was, his mouth was watering.

"Correct. But you missed the potatoes and carrots. I know you have to sleep; however, I'd rather not see you starve during the night." Murtagh's thumbs wandered down the spine, rubbing away all tension.

"I agree that starving is not the best of things. But I can't get up now." Eragon was more than reluctant to leave the skilful hands.

"You want me to get it for you?" Murtagh pinched Eragon's back. "I don't think so."

"Fine, then don't move!" Eragon glanced over his shoulders threateningly and got up as quickly as his aching body allowed. He limped to the fireside, filled a bowl with the stew and took a mouthful water before he returned to the bed. He positioned himself right were he had sat previously and shrugged his shoulders as a signal for Murtagh to continue.

Instead, Murtagh started to chuckle. "Oh, so I am supposed to coddle you some more, but you didn't even bring anything to eat for me? Has anyone ever taught you manners?"

Eragon had not thought about getting food for Murtagh at all and was glad his brother did not see his face. "I figured you had already eaten… Wait, I'm getting you some." But he was pressed down forcefully and could not get up.

"Nah, I can eat later. Go ahead, fill your stomach while I take care of your shoulders and back some more… You're crazy fighting as much on your first day."

Eragon shook his head. "In a real battle I can't just stop and say 'Hey, I'm tired, let's continue tomorrow'. Don't worry, I can handle it. Especially with such a massage… By the way, the stew is delicious, that was a good idea." He meant it and was savouring every mouthful.

"I'm glad," Murtagh replied, "but I think, hungry as you are, even old leather would taste good."

Eragon smiled. Murtagh did so much for him all of the time. He had the very bad feeling that he actually missed most of it. And there were also the things that his brother did not do. Things Eragon knew the older one desired and wanted badly, but repressed constantly. All because of him. Because Murtagh did not want to hurt or push him. Eragon felt more than a bit guilty and the rest of his meal passed in silence.

When he was done he put the bowl aside and turned around, having prepared a few words to say. But first there were Murtagh's lips on his own and he decided that his plan could certainly wait. Eagerly he sank into the kiss, relieved about everything that postponed his intentions.

After a while Murtagh broke the contact and watched him affectionately. "Feeling good now?"

Eragon was rather nervous, but lied successfully. "Definitely. Who wouldn't, being pampered like this?"

Murtagh raised an eyebrow. "You don't want me to? I could be all nasty and mean, you know, I've got enough experience with that." However, at the moment he did not look like he was able to be anything but loveable.

"No, don't." Eragon shook his head and lowered his gaze. Don't be a coward, he told himself, for a change Murtagh deserved a treat, too. "I… err, I wanted to tell you something. That what you did this morning… I really liked it. I have never… well..." He knew he was blushing again and wanted to slap himself. "I have never felt anything like that before. That was… strange at first, I admit. But better than… I don't know. Better than pastries? I know that's pathetic, but so far pastries have always caused the best sensations in my life… what?" He stared at Murtagh, who was guffawing, holding his stomach with both hands.

It took a few moments until Murtagh calmed down enough to speak coherently. Wiping away tears from his eyes and still red in the face he eyed Eragon incredulously. "Pastries? Pastries?" He laughed again, but could control himself quickly this time. "You are hilarious. One day you'll kill me with some of those things you say."

"What? I just tried to explain how good that felt," Eragon defended himself sheepishly. "It was the first thing that came to my mind to compare it with, it's-"

"Oral sex, Eragon, it's called oral sex. And I'm very glad that you've liked it so much, but please, please, don't compare it with a pie." Suddenly the humour vanished from his eyes and was replaced by lustfulness. "I would gladly do it again, you know. It's not something that only you enjoy…" Murtagh's voice had turned husky.

Eragon swallowed and averted his brother's eye. Actually that was just what he wanted. He felt wonderfully relaxed and imagining Murtagh doing that with him another time was… his heart began to speed up. No! He had decided on something else and he did not want to waver now. "No." He saw Murtagh look at him doubtfully and proceeded. "I want to do that. I want to do… oral sex."

Murtagh's expression overshadowed rapidly. "No, you don't. I have no idea why you're saying this right now, but I know that you don't want that."

Eragon did not like the older Rider determining what he wanted or not. He shook his head vehemently. "You're not in my mind, how would you know? And I'm sure you'd like it."

Murtagh brought his face very close to Eragon. "This is not about what I like," he hissed, "and this is also not about a virgin who wants to make his first experiences. I would not say 'no' then. But you have been raped, Eragon!" He got louder and louder. "Even if you have not told me, I guessed a long time ago that they've forced their dirty dicks down your throat and doubtlessly made you swallow. Don't tell me you want it!"

Eragon felt worse by the second. Of course Murtagh was right and he did not really want it – although he was curious after seeing his brother enjoy it so much. But now he had chosen to fight his memories and also to return at least some of the pleasure that he was experiencing with the older one. Yet it was hard enough as it was and he did not need the other one to talk him out of it. "Can't you see that I'm trying to replace those horrible memories with pleasant ones?" He was almost pleading.

Murtagh's voice was gentle again. "I understand that well enough, little one, but I'm sure that it won't be enjoyable for you… What else is behind this? Could it be that you feel the odd need to repay me?"

Eragon thought for a while and then decided to go for the truth. "That's part of it, but-"

"No! Eragon, no!" Murtagh tore at his dark mane in desperation. "Where do you get these ideas from? You don't have to do anything the like. I am happy. Do you have any reason to doubt that? I don't want you to do anything that you do not truly want!"

Eragon felt his chest tighten. Murtagh could not know that it was his earnest concern that wiped away all remaining doubts. "Won't you let me try?" he asked in a low voice. "How am I supposed to get rid of the pictures in my head if not now and with you?"

"I… I don't really know what to think of it. You've been honest with me, so I'll be honest with you. Yes, it is something I yearn for. And your reasons do make sense to a certain degree. But I can't stand the thought of being the one who makes you miserable."

Murtagh's eyes showed a mix of powerful emotions, which prompted Eragon to embrace his brother. "What if I promise to stop when it gets too much?" he asked in a whisper. "And I'll never blame you for anything, you know that!"

Murtagh was quiet for a long while. "Alright," he said finally, "although I really don't like how this has come about."

"Thank you." Eragon was relieved. The part he had considered easier had turned out to be very difficult, so it could only get better now. He began by kissing Murtagh, relaxing slowly when they found back into their routine. He was thankful to notice that Murtagh did not contain himself, which would have hindered the whole affair.

Trembling slightly, Eragon moved his hands downwards. He had made up his mind to get right to it; he did not want his anxiety to grow any more. However, he was stopped by Murtagh's broad belt, which he could not unbuckle, jittery as he was. With steady hands Murtagh came to his aid and opened his pants as well. "Thanks," Eragon muttered a bit breathlessly, "I guess I'm a little nervous."

"Calm down," he heard Murtagh's low voice, which was slightly hoarse again. "I'm afraid that you might drop down dead if you're so tense." The older chuckled under his breath.

Slowly Eragon moved away from Murtagh, who was seated with his back against the headboard, and pulled at his pants. With a little gasp he observed the result. Very conscious of Murtagh watching his every move closely, Eragon reached out with his right and touched the now unprotected erection carefully. He felt very soft skin on a very hard organ – quite like his own, actually. Eragon smiled inwardly. What had he expected? There was one noticeable difference, though. His own cock erect like this had always been a sign of his arousal. Now this sight was the cause of his arousal. He was fascinated.

He leaned forward and kissed Murtagh again to prevent being surveyed any further. Meanwhile his hand slowly explored the object it was holding. Not knowing how to do this best, Eragon chose to go for what he himself liked. He closed his hand around the shaft firmly and began to slide it up and down. He heard a low rumble deep in Murtagh's chest and slowly increased both speed and intensity. He was rewarded with a loud moan that made him shiver.

He let go of Murtagh's lips as well as his cock and moved backwards a little, at the same time lowering himself. With closed eyes he placed a tiny kiss on the head of Murtagh's cock. Listening very intently to all that his own body had to say, Eragon noted that up to now he was not disgusted at all. This was Murtagh. This was different. So far, this was good.

Without opening his eyes he moved his mouth along the shaft. He was hardly doing anything, yet he could feel Murtagh quiver. Realizing that, for some strange reason, he was managing to bring this about satisfied him deeply.

On returning to his starting point he opened his eyes. Was he nervous? Certainly. Was he afraid? A little. Did he want to try this? Yes!

With one swift movement he took the tip of Murtagh's cock in his mouth and let his tongue explore it. Slowly he took in some more but stopped when he felt faintly nauseous. He paused with everything until the feeling had passed and then returned to letting his tongue play with the erection. When he moved his head a little he accidentally scraped the shaft with his teeth and he stopped again, hoping that it had not hurt. However, Murtagh's quiet and occasional moans were now a low growl and Eragon had already learned that this was a sure sign of the older one's arousal. He liked that? He could get more of it.

Encouraged, Eragon moved his head around Murtagh's cock again, examining it both with his tongue and lips. Every now and then he bit down very carefully, relishing the sounds he could produce indirectly. He then tried to take Murtagh in further, but immediately felt as if he had to vomit and retreated quickly. However Murtagh had managed to swallow him completely – it was nothing Eragon could imitate. Instead, he grabbed the end of the shaft with his hand and moved it simultaneously with his mouth. Apparently that was received very well. Murtagh's hips began to move and Eragon noticed the older one holding on to the sheets, hands turning white.

"Eragon, I-I think it is…e-enou-enough." Murtagh was gasping and hard to understand. "Le-let me finish my-myself-"

Eragon held up his free hand, signalling for the other one to be quiet. He wanted to end this properly; he had to know where his limits were. Therefore he did not let go of Murtagh, but amplified his efforts. The taste in his mouth suddenly changed and he figured it must be very late precum. The nauseous feeling returned and Eragon concentrated on the fact that it was indeed Murtagh in his mouth. Protective and gentle Murtagh, who had no intentions of harming him. He forced himself to continue.

Within seconds he felt Murtagh's cock beginning to throb and with a stifled groan Murtagh came. Eragon willed himself to stay where he was and swallow, although he was choking. He felt sweat break out everywhere on his shaking body and closed his eyes, focussing hard. Murtagh ejaculated for what seemed like eternity, but then finally it was over.

Eragon removed his head and shifted to the left, lying down on his side, his back to Murtagh. He needed just a minute to compose himself. He felt Murtagh behind him who placed a hand very gently on his head and fondled his hair. Eragon was deeply grateful that he did not force him to turn around right now.

After a few minutes he felt better and sat up slowly. He had done it. He had really done it. He was immensely proud of himself for several reasons, and it must have shown on his face when he looked at Murtagh, because the older one's expression turned from very worried to a small smile.

"You did it!" Murtagh's voice was unreadable.

"I did." Eragon grinned slightly himself, feeling light-headed. "And I feel... good!" He bit his lower lip. "I'm sorry, though, that I've got no idea how to do it properly." Had he really bit Murtagh? That must have hurt!

"Shut up, silly," Murtagh now laughed quietly. "I don't think I've ever enjoyed it as much, although I was so worried about you."

Eragon was astonished. "But I don't know how these things are done, that was more… try and error, I guess."

Murtagh kissed him briefly, still laughing. "You don't know? Either you're a damn good liar," he joked, "or, rather more likely, you're a natural."

Eragon felt his grin widen. "If you say so…"

"Believe me, I know." Murtagh pulled him into his lap and brought his mouth to Eragon's ear. "Am I now allowed to take care of you?" he asked in a whisper. "You'd really deserve it, you know."

All Eragon could do was nod his approval before Murtagh's tongue made him forget the world around him.