Author's Note: I can only apologize for the ridiculously long delay on this chapter. I had some trouble writing it...hopefully it isn't too bad. Next chapter is the second-to-last one, and contains Durza and Arya. Hopefully that'll be out at least before the end of the month...well, hope you enjoy.

Chapter 36: Trust

"We're getting down the end here, huh?" Durza said, throwing a few darts at the dartboard he and Arya had dug up in the basement. They hit the wall and bounced off.

"Seems like it," Arya agreed, throwing some darts of her own. She hit the board, at least.

"What do you think our characters will do next? We'll get in at least another chapter before the ending, right?" Durza said.

Arya scoffed. "Of course we will! Who wants to read about Eragon anyway?"

From somewhere in the house above, Eragon shouted "I heard that!"

Arya just rolled her eyes. Stupid main characters.

-o-o-o-o-o-

It hadn't been a full day. He was sure of that much, at least. It was a struggle to keep any sense of time in this dark cell below the earth, but he hung on with all his might. It was small things like this that kept a man sane; Murtagh knew that from experience.

His body still ached from having his mind ransacked; his arms were bound behind him, and he could barely feel his fingers. But Murtagh willed the pain away. He would not think about it, would not allow it to weaken him. He had to rebuild the walls around his mind; having them broken made him feel naked and vulnerable. They'd had no right…his mind was his own…

But it had looked like Eragon had gotten it even worse than him. But then, Eragon hadn't been trained to shield his mind…probably never had to. Murtagh had learned it when he was just a child; it was the only way to be sure your thoughts were your own. That was what life in the Imperial court meant. Eragon…

The look on his face when those magicians said Murtagh had lied to him, that he was a traitor…Murtagh had been helpless to protest. He had no proof of his intentions; that was the whole point of mind-probing, it was a reliable way to see what a person's real feelings were. But they had lied. Why had they done it? What was the point of it? Was it just because he was Morzan's son? Had they thought he might have somehow hidden the truth, that he really was a traitor? But they had broken through his defenses completely, Murtagh had felt it—he shuddered just thinking of it now. Then…why?

It had been a miracle that Eragon had trusted him in the first place, after finding out the awful truth—that he was the son of Morzan, the most feared of all the Forsworn. Murtagh had treasured that trust…it was something he hadn't felt in a long time. A friend. Like a brother, almost. And now…it was gone, just like that. The twin magicians were obviously high-ranking Varden members; Eragon would have no reason to mistrust them. Murtagh had no way at all to prove his innocence.

Dammit…dammit! What am I supposed to do now? He couldn't stand feeling so helpless. But what could he do?

Nothing. Not a damn thing…

Murtagh closed his eyes and gave in to the exhaustion.

-o-o-o-o-o-

"And this is the dining hall," the young sorceress told Eragon, gesturing toward the half-open door to her left. Her name was Trianna, she'd said, and she was giving Eragon a quick tour of the places he would need to know how to get to within Tronjheim.

Eragon was dying to ask about a thousand questions—what kind of food did the dwarves eat? Did they grow it in the valley? Or did they ship it in from elsewhere? Where there dwarven farmers? Did they farm the same way people in Carvahall did?—but he felt strange and shy with this powerful, important person. He didn't want to pester her with his curiosity.

Saphira, of course, felt no such reservations. She had been cheeping with pleased interest throughout their tour, poking her nose into corners and eagerly showing Eragon whatever she found, from bits of dust to someone's lost bracelet. Eragon was glad she was enjoying herself; their travels had been so filled with danger. At least they were safe now.

Murtagh wasn't safe, though. Eragon was trying to keep his mind off his friend, but somehow everything seemed to remind him of the dark-haired man. Were they feeding Murtagh properly? They wouldn't hurt him, would they? Eragon wasn't sure it would be all right to even ask such questions. And shouldn't he hate Murtagh now? Those twin magicians had said he was a traitor, so that meant their friendship had all been a lie, didn't it?

They had traveled so far together. Murtagh had saved him from drowning at the Ramr River, had crossed the desert with him. They had argued and then made up, they had fought and run and lived by each other's sides. Eragon hadn't been close to any of the villagers of Carvahall; he had known them, but most of his time was spent with his family. He had been so happy to meet Murtagh, to have someone more experienced in the ways of the world with him on this crazy journey.

If it was really all a lie…

Eragon shook his head, blinking back tears. The thought that Murtagh had been tricking them all that time, that everything they had shared was just part of the deception, was too much. Saphira darted over to him.

What's wrong?

"It's nothing…don't worry," he whispered to her. Saphira was too big to ride on his shoulder now, so Eragon knelt and hugged her tightly. She gently licked his ear, still concerned for him.

"Thanks, Saphira," Eragon said, managing a smile. At least he and Saphira would always be able to trust each other.

"Are you two coming?" Trianna said, glancing behind her.

Eragon jumped to his feet; he had completely lost track of what Trianna was saying. Stammering an apology, he tried to force his mind to attention. It was hard to keep his thoughts away from Murtagh.

Trianna led them down the corridor. Eragon still hadn't gotten used to the sound of his footsteps in this underground city; it was a thudding, slightly hollow sound, and it made his stomach drop. Saphira was uneasy as well; she didn't like being so far away from the open sky.

"In here," Trianna said, holding open an iron-barred door for them. "I'll introduce you to Lady Nasuada."

The room was plain, holding a simple wooden table and several shelves of scrolls. Sitting at the table in a too-small chair was a woman with dark skin and a serious expression. At her side was a young girl with pale skin and dark hair. Her eyes flicked between Eragon and Saphira nervously, and she tugged on the woman's sleeve.

The woman placed a hand on the girl's shoulder. "I wasn't expecting you."

Trianna curtseyed, but her eyes didn't leave the woman's. "Forgive me, Lady Nasuada. I wanted to introduce the Dragon Rider and his dragon to you. This is Eragon and Saphira."
Saphira growled, and Eragon hastily added, "She's not my dragon; I'm her Rider."

Nasuada smiled, and the lines of tension between her eyes cleared. "Is that so? I'll remember it. Welcome. I am Nasuada, daughter of Ajihad. This is Elva," she added, motioning to the girl at her side. Elva ducked her head, fidgeting.

"I hope I didn't interrupt anything important?" Trianna said, a playful smile on her lips.

"Nothing that can't wait a little," Nasuada replied. Her voice was warm, and Eragon relaxed a little. He had been intimidated at first, but Lady Nasuada seemed quite friendly.

Eragon bowed. "Pleased to meet you, Lady Nasuada. Hello, Elva."

"I'm afraid Elva can't speak," Nasuada said as Elva looked away, blushing slightly. "The healers have tried, but…"

We could help! Saphira piped up suddenly. We have magic!

"But we don't even know what's wrong!" Eragon said, startled. Seeing the odd looks Nasuada and Trianna were giving him, he added, "Saphira thinks maybe we could help Elva."

Nasuada seemed happy with this suggestion, and Trianna looked faintly impressed, but it was Elva's face that Eragon watched. She glanced up, meeting his eyes for the first time. A little unsure, but hopeful, Eragon thought.

"Do you want us to try?" he asked Elva.

Elva hesitated, twisting her skirt in her hands and shifting from side to side, but at last Eragon's patience was rewarded. She nodded.

"All right," Eragon said, then realized that he had no idea what to do.

Magic, Saphira pointed out, not very helpfully. Like before. Just ask.

"I'll try," Eragon said, and went to stand by Elva's side. He placed a hand on her head and concentrated on the feeling of his magic. What should he say? What did he want to happen?

Elva couldn't speak. Should he say 'be able to speak'? But that might be too simple. He didn't know why she couldn't speak, after all.

She's closed up, Saphira said, poking her nose at Elva's hands. The girl squirmed, but didn't push Eragon or Saphira away. All closed up. Can't be part of the world because she's closed up.

Closed up. He could do something about that. Trusting that Saphira knew what she was talking about, Eragon said, "Be open to the world." He definitely felt something—his magic was doing something, but he wasn't entirely sure what. Helping, he hoped.

Elva sat straight up, a look of surprise on her face. She turned from one of them to the other, her hands at her throat, then hid behind Nasuada.

"I'm sorry," Eragon said. "I guess I couldn't help after all."

Helped, Saphira insisted in his mind, but Eragon hadn't noticed any change.

"Thank you for trying," Nasuada said politely. "I'm sure Elva doesn't blame you for not being able to heal her."

Eragon nodded, but he still felt like he had failed Elva. She had been so hopeful…

"I'm sure you two want to get some rest," Trianna said, glancing at Eragon and Saphira. "That's about all the places you'll need to know—can you make your way back on your own? I have some things I need to speak to Lady Nasuada about."

"Yes, thank you very much, Miss Trianna," Eragon said, hurrying out of the room as quickly as was polite. He needed some time to think, some time where he wasn't trying to act properly and not expose himself as a poor farmer rather than the Dragon Rider they all seemed to see him as.

Saphira chirped at him, nudging his hand.

"It's okay, Saphira. I'm just…tired." And worried about Murtagh. Except he shouldn't be worried, Murtagh was an enemy now…wasn't he? The magicians' spell couldn't be mistaken about something that important.

Could be, Saphira said, blowing a puff of hot air into Eragon's face. Could be wrong. Our friend.

Eragon bit his lip. He was their friend, he had done so much for them, they would never have reached the Varden without him…but..he had felt that spell. It had gone through his mind so completely.

Murtagh's mind is different. Keeps people out. So, could be a mistake.

Eragon's jaw dropped. It…it was possible! If Murtagh had some way of keeping people out of his thoughts, then maybe…maybe they had just seen that Murtagh was Morzan's son, and jumped to conclusions! Maybe they had just assumed he was on Galbatorix's side, because they couldn't see into Murtagh's mind to the truth!

"Then—then maybe—"

Still our friend, Saphira said, finishing his thought. Gotta find him quick. He's all alone.

That was right, Murtagh was all alone in this place, not knowing what was going to happen to him—they had to find him as quickly as they could. But…where?

There was a soft giggle behind him, and Eragon spun around, startled. He had thought he was alone; normally, he would notice someone sneaking up behind him. Any good hunter would.

Saphira was crouched by his side, ready to attack if anything tried to hurt Eragon.

"I think you'll find what you're looking for if you head that way. Take the second set of stairs you find," said a plump woman with curly red hair. She was pointing down the corridor with her left hand; a basket of mushrooms was in her right. A large, shaggy black cat was standing just behind her, its tail twitching from side to side as it watched Saphira.

"Huh?" Eragon managed to get out. Who was this woman, and how did she know he was looking for something?

"Go on—he's waiting!" the woman said, giggling again.

Eragon glanced down at Saphira, waiting for her opinion on this strange encounter.

Worth a try, she said, and that was enough for Eragon.

"Thank you," Eragon said, and hurried off down the corridor. Even if the woman had just been teasing him, it couldn't hurt to try.

Back in the corridor Eragon had just left, Angela doubled over with laughter. Solembum gave a disapproving sniff.

That was very immature, he said.

"Oh, do shut up," Angela replied, straightening her basket of mushrooms on her arm. "It was just too much fun not to. And the poor boy looked so worried, too."

You just wanted to see the look on his face, Solembum accused. That dragon glared at me.

"Very well. I'll make it up to you when we get back," Angela said, rolling her eyes. Solembum could be such a whiner at times.

You mean--?

"Indeed," Angela said, grinning. "Catnip."

Solembum's tongue flicked out in anticipation. Hurry up! Time is wasting! he said, and hurried off ahead of Angela, who kept on at her steady pace, laughing uproariously.

-o-o-o-o-o-

Eragon and Saphira crept down the wide stone stairway. Eragon could barely see ahead of him, but even thought the torches lining the walls were unlit, Saphira was easily able to guide them. At last, they reached the bottom. A single torch illuminated a thick door closed by an iron bar at the end of the corridor.

They had finally arrived, but now Eragon was hit by a wave of nerves. What was he going to say? He hadn't been able to stop the magicians from hurting Murtagh, or the Varden from imprisoning him. He had dragged Murtagh to the Varden when he didn't want to go. Murtagh had trusted him, and Eragon had broken that trust.

Go in, Saphira insisted, nudging Eragon with her snout. He must be lonely.

Eragon nodded, took a deep breath, and made his way down the corridor to the door. With help from Saphira, he pulled the bar aside, grasped the handle, and opened it. Saphira stayed outside while Eragon went in. It wasn't her who was Murtagh's friend, after all. Not that she didn't like him, of course; he was kind to Eragon, so that automatically made him all right in Saphira's mind.

"Who's there?" came Murtagh's voice from the back of the small, bare room. He sounded…not frightened, exactly, but anxious.

"It's me," Eragon said.

Murtagh pushed himself to his feet and walked slowly closer. "Eragon? You…you came."

"I came," Eragon said, feeling stupid but not sure what to say. "Murtagh, listen, I—"

Murtagh cut him off with a tight hug. "Thank the gods." The agony of waiting, alone and not knowing his fate, was over at last.

Blushing, Eragon patted Murtagh awkwardly on the back. "Are…are you all right? Did they hurt you?"

Murtagh knew he was making Eragon uncomfortable, and that he should probably let go, but he was so happy to have another person to talk to. He had to hold on just a little bit longer, just to convince himself this was really happening. He hadn't expected to see Eragon ever again, not after those magicians had said he was a traitor.

"I'm not a traitor," Murtagh said, releasing Eragon only to grab his shoulders, making Eragon look him in the face. "I swear to you, I'm not!"

The desperation in Murtagh's eyes hurt. "I…I know. I believe you. I'm sorry I thought…"

"It doesn't matter." Oh gods, he believed him. He believed that Murtagh was still his friend, still loyal. Murtagh let out a breath he hadn't known he was holding. His face relaxed, and he let go of Eragon's shoulders. "What about you? What's happened?"

"They let us stay. But they said we had to go somewhere—Ellesemera, I think—for some kind of training. Murtagh, we have to go to Lord Ajihad before that—we'll tell him those magicians were wrong, you're innocent—they'll let you out, I'm sure of it!"

Murtagh looked at Eragon's confident, hopeful face, and had trouble bringing himself to shatter all that. "Why should they believe me? Their magicians told them I'm a traitor."

"But you know how to shield your mind," Eragon said. "Saphira thought of it—she remembered that you protect your mind, so maybe those magicians couldn't get all the way in, and they just assumed you were a traitor. We'll tell Lord Ajihad that, he'll understand. Saphira and I will tell him how you helped us—he'll have to believe us!"

Murtagh considered this. Eragon was the Dragon Rider the Varden had been waiting so long for. Surely his word had to count for something? And Saphira's word, the word of the dragon that had hatched at last…could they really afford to dismiss that?

He didn't want to get his hopes up. Murtagh didn't have much faith in the Varden, or in most people, really. But somehow, Eragon's smile made him feel like he just might have a chance.

"Let's do it," Murtagh said.

-o-o-o-o-o-

"Why did I hug Eragon?" Murtagh said, reading the newly-completed chapter over Subieko's shoulder. "I'm way too manly to go around hugging people."

Subieko rolled her eyes. "You're in prison, Murtagh. You thought your friend hated you, and then you found out he doesn't. Of course you hugged him!"

"I don't want to get hugged by Murtagh," Eragon chimed in. "And why don't I just go tell Ajihad to let Murtagh out? I'm the main character, they have to listen to me!"

"Maybe because I'm trying not to make you a complete jerk?" Subieko said. "Just go bother someone else, I have to get this chapter posted. Otherwise the readers might hunt me down and do something awful…like take away my chocolate." She shuddered at the thought.

"Whatever," Murtagh said, stalking off with his hands in his pockets in a way that was totally manly and not at all like he was sulking. Definitely not.

"Hmph," Eragon said, stalking off in the opposite direction and refusing to think about getting hugged by Murtagh. Stupid author, putting that in. He didn't want a hug. Definitely not.

Subieko just snickered. Denial was so terribly entertaining.