Before the Storm

Having released Nasuada from the manacles so she could walk around, Murtagh simply stood in the middle of the room. It was night, but he seemed restless.

He held Lenora's star pendent in his hand, as if waiting for it to do something.

"Nasuada," he began, "you have helped me in more ways than one. You gave me something to fight for beyond my own life and Nora's life. But…I was confusing protectiveness with...something else. I will still save you, no matter what it takes, but this is a choice I need to make. After this is over, I have a lot to make up with Nora. She has shown me nothing but loyalty and I...I abandoned her and now she's the slave of the king. She swore her loyalty. I felt it...the anguish...she's so bitter."

Nasuada nodded slowly. She didn't know what she had been thinking, that she was in love with another woman's betrothed, tearing them apart. It had been...cruel. Yes, he had been her comfort, but that was probably just desperation and the need for human contact. When they first met, she had been truly fascinated by Murtagh and thought he was dashing and roguish. But, even if Nora wasn't in the picture, it would never work out. He was a rebellious, complicated soul that needed someone like Nora, who had the power and total understanding that Nasuada would never know.

"It has always been you and Nora. No matter what. Something draws the two of you together."

"Not only that, but, if I continued on the path I was following, she would die, despairing and betrayed. She came here for me, but I was blind and now she's suffering for it. I have to fix this...somehow."

Eragon wandered through the tents of the Lamvarden, who, while they had joined the Varden, still liked to set themselves apart. He had spent a few hours during the night going among the troops, talking to them and attempting to ease any doubts or fears about the coming siege of Uru'baen. His heart should have been light; he had caused dozens of men, women, and children to exchange worry and frowns for optimistic spirits. He had told them that he had a plan and plenty of help to kill the king, that Lenora was still on their side and was prepared to aid them when the time came, and that they would save Nasuada. He was confident in none of these things, but he should have been comforted to know that his people were confident in him.

The Lamvarden were different, however. His words were met with awkward smiles that quickly disappeared as soon as they thought he wasn't looking, wary glances, and unconvincing thanks, as if they didn't believe him. At the moment, he wasn't even bothering trying to talk to the people that walked by beyond a pleasant hello (at least that wasn't awkward).

"You look troubled, Shadeslayer," a woman commented.

Eragon looked around to find Rowena, Ajihad's apparent new lover, sitting between two tents in a chair with her feet propped up on a log near the glowing fire. She had a pile of men's clothing next to her and was presently repairing someone's jerkin. Tired of walking, the Rider sat down on the log, facing Rowena.

"I've been visiting the troops, giving encouragement and hearing their complaints and healing their wounds…but the Lamvarden here are different. My presence seemed to encourage everyone else, but they seem so completely somber!"

Rowena paused in her work, absentmindedly looking around.

"They've known reality too long and too much; they become suspicious when a leader tells them everything will be all right when it won't necessarily be true. Also, they're accustomed to guerrilla tactics, even now with the Varden. In quick strikes, they are confident, but with full scale battles where there is no cover and their best hope is planning on walking right into danger knowingly… They value safety; that's why they left their homes. They see what you're about to do and they know that there's a chance you won't come back. They trust you as a leader, but you are still young and you're still human."

Eragon shook his head. Had they so little faith in him?

"How can I make them understand, then?"

"The problem is that they do understand, Shadeslayer. They understand all too well. I'll talk to them. They can sometimes be almost too realistic, but they have good, loyal hearts and willing arms. They won't let you down."

About 25 men and women of the Lamvarden were grouped around a large campfire, discussing the coming battle and the most recent news.

"Were you here when Eragon Shadeslayer came by?" a large burly fellow of forty years asked the two closest people, a brown-haired matron and her reedy husband. The woman nodded, but her companion had apparently just arrived. "He tried tellin' us how brave we were to be fightin' here and how lucky he was to have us here…as if we didn't already know. Then, to top it off, he tried consolin' us and tellin' us that we was on the brink of a new age in Alagaesia – that victory would be ours before dinner tomorrow – that he'd make sure everything turned out in the end. Bah!" He spat into the fire. "He might be a Dragon Rider and he may've defeated Urgals and Shades, but who does he think he is to tell us 'everything's gonna be all right'?"

"He meant well," the woman responded, shaking her head, "but, if he's so wise for his age, he should know when his counsel is neither needed nor wanted. We wouldn't be here if we weren't desperate to end Galbatorix's reign. We're here because we know suffering, we've been driven from our homes, and we are willing to risk our lives to stop it. Isn't it obvious that we already have faith in the lad by being here and isn't it obvious that we know there's risk? We don't need to be talked to like children by someone who is barely a man himself. We may not live to see another sunset, but I've made my peace with that."

"Of course you have," a new voice said, joining in the conversation. Rowena appeared beside them at the fire and the others made room for her. The former innkeeper held great weight among their ranks. "We've all made our peace; otherwise, we would flee this place at once. But talking to us, hearing us, and encouraging us not only helps morale for the general population, but also helps him have faith that he can succeed in defeating the king. Seeing our hope gives him something to fight for and it will drive him forward even when all may seem lost. We should consider this not his attempt to help us, but an opportunity to help him prepare for tomorrow."

The throne room was darker than usual, with only two torches lighting the area around the throne. Murtagh had managed to use the pendent to find its owner, recalling the time it had directed him to the cell that held Nora in Gil'ead. A sniffle alerted him to her exact location. She was alone, sitting on the steps leading up to the imposing seat, cloaked by darkness with her hair in a high bun that left her back and shoulders exposed. He quickly noted that she was wearing a blood red dress frighteningly similar to the one in his dream.

"Nora?" he said quietly. She remained with her head turned away. "Are you all right? I wanted to find you before you did something stupid that you don't have to do."

"What do you mean?" she asked with a ghostly tone, her voice too even.

"I had a vision that…that you swore your loyalty to the king. I don't want you to do it for me and I know you're stronger than that."

"Why would you think I would do it for you?"

"I thought you had feelings for Eragon. I don't know why. I'm sorry."

Why wasn't she looking at him? He went closer.

She snorted a little laugh.

"You're sorry. Now he says it."

"I had a vision that you joined Galbatorix and that you hated me because I was the reason you did it. I dreamed that you died trying to kill the king. I can't let that happen."

"Because you'll be guilty?"

He sat down beside her with her back still turned to him.

"Yes. No! Because…"

"Because it seems to me that you'll be far happier if I just let you be."

"That's not true."

"…says the boy who comforted a practical stranger and left me to my fate."

"I just don't want you to do something stupid."

Fast as lightening, Nora whirled around to give a whip-like slap.

"Don't you dare talk to me about doing something stupid! You have no idea the turmoil I've gone through. You admitted defeat, laughed at others' pain. I fought, I cried, and I have knowingly turned away from the chance at freedom for myself…all for… There's a cost that I…" She stopped herself and looked away again. Strands of hair were beginning to come loose from the bun, but she still looked like a queen, in her own way.

Murtagh had seen the cost she was trying to hide in his vision. He couldn't let it happen…not just for him.

"I've seen that cost, Lenora, and I won't let you do it."

The woman suddenly stood and faced him, shaking her head angrily.

"You don't get it, do you? It's done. The pieces are set and the game is ready to be played. The time for choosing our paths is over and there is no going back. You must protect Nasuada, Eragon must kill the king, and I just help him."

"By dying?! Nora, I won't let you! Why choose to supposedly save me and then push me away? I can help!"

A surge of magical energy sent him flying into the throne, where he found himself pinned by invisible barriers. No matter how hard he tried, there was he could do, physical or magical, to free himself. She swiftly approached, leaned in until their faces were only a few inches apart, and reached her hand up to gently grip his hair, just like in the dream. She seemed to be holding something back. If she wanted, she could have killed him right then and there.

If he could have moved, he could have kissed her…and he actually wanted to. After all their confusion, pain, and separation, they always seemed to come back together. She could have left him to his fate and run to safety or stayed with the Varden, but she had come, knowing her road would end in death. But, if she had come for him, why was she pushing him away now that he had made up his mind? What was this about choices being made?

"You can help, eh?"

"Fates can be rewritten, Nora. We've both seen what this path leads to, but we can change that."

"Can we? Murtagh, I've changed my fate more times than I can count, but it always ends the same way…it just gets delayed. I've had visions over the years of a final conflict with Galbatorix and became accustomed to them because they changed with every major life decision that I made, like fleeing Uru'baen or leaving Carvahall. No matter what I do, I will eventually find myself at odds with my father. I ran from it, but, every time I changed it, it was only delayed a little. I want it over with. I'd rather die now than spend the rest of my life running. Don't get in my way."

With a final pause, she released him and walked quickly but regally out of the room. Still Murtagh spoke as she left:

"Why now? Why not wait until you know you won't die?" No reply. "Nora, I know I betrayed you. Nothing can make up for that. Please, give me..." He stopped himself. He was going to say 'a second chance', but he knew he didn't really deserve to ask for any more chances.

Nora quietly sobbed as she began jogging toward her room. Her heart was torn in two. She wanted Murtagh for herself, but she wanted this torment of fate to be over; she wanted that singing voice to be gone; and she wanted Murtagh to have someone when she was dead…in order for that to happen, she needed to push him toward Nasuada. It took all willpower to not lean two inches further and kiss the bloody man when she had him under her control. He couldn't fight against her, but she couldn't fight Galbatorix. She wanted it over and she wanted Murtagh safe. This was the time. Besides, she had seen how Nasuada looked at him. They deserved each other.

It was past midnight. Many people were sleeping and others were meditating, warming themselves at fires, or preparing their armor for the coming day. The elf queen was wandering through the maze of tents belonging to the Varden, contemplating the battle that would soon be upon them. She had already prepared her armor and chose presently to wear just a simple crimson tunic with a soft black cloak.

She had lost much in this war – friends, family, hope – but she had gained the forgiveness of her daughter and the friendship of her niece. Her sensitive ears caught the whetting of a blade in the direction she was heading. The owner turned out to be a black-haired woman in a grey dress sitting outside the witch Angela's tent. Islanzadi stopped in the shadows when the woman pulled her hair back to reveal her features. It was impossible! Anger boiled up within her.

"Who are you to masquerade as my long-dead sister?" the queen demanded after a moment, revealing herself and approaching. Several large wolves appeared seemingly out of nowhere to watch.

"I am who I appear to be, Islanzadi," was the purely truthful reply.

The other elf looked up calmly, sadness touching her green eyes. She was older, more solemn, and had an aura of turmoil about her, but there no doubting that face.

"How can you be telling the truth when I know that my sister died at the hands of Galbatorix years ago?"

She remained still and staring.

"I am Ivanyel. I have hidden myself away in the company of wolves for the past several years. It is I, but time, hardship, and two unforgivable mistakes have changed me deeply."

"What mistakes, sister?"

She still couldn't believe she was actually talking her sibling, but she remained composed.

"I left my daughter and cursed her with my burden."

Suddenly, unable to contain herself, Islanzadi sat down beside the other woman and tightly grasped her hands, kissing them both.

"Tell me everything."

Anger began to build again as the tale unfolded.

"All right. So, we're going into the palace. What if we run across Murtagh?"

"What do you mean?" Catira asked, blinking curiously.

"I know you're a powerful magician and we both can fight, but, if something happens and we encounter Murtagh…I don't want to kill him. Whatever's happened to him, I'll always see the silent boy running around the castle grounds with the princess."

"He's changed, Eedom. If he gives us no other choice, we have to defend ourselves."

"It's just…I think, since I lost all of my family, I don't like to see other families ripped apart. Even though he and Eragon are technically enemies, they used to be friends and they are blood relatives. I want to see the Eragon and Murtagh reunited as brothers. I know it isn't always perfect with family...but deeper than whatever conflict comes along. No matter if you hate them, you love them too... When you are together, you can take the world..."

Catira was silent for a moment, staring at nothing.

"I fought against Galbatoroix and Forsworn after they rose to power, along with the rest of my kind. I and several other elves were tasked to recapture the Eldunari, the Dragon Hearts, already in Galbatorix's possession. My companions were killed and I was taken captive." She was silent again. "One of my companions…was my brother. I know what it is like to take on the world with your family. You're unstoppable…until you discover that the world is cruel and will crush any light it sees, with time. We should not concern ourselves with Murtagh, however. He will certainly be tracking Eragon and Eragon alone. Our concern is with Nora."

"Wait. Shouldn't we tell Eragon that we're going with him?"

"No, because we are not going with them."

"Then how are we getting in? Listen, I'm trying to be supportive by helping you save Lenora and there is safety in numbers, meaning your goal will be easier…right?"

"Eedom…sometimes, you can be so thick."

"Why? Is there something I'm missing? If you're thinking of using magic, remember I'm still a rookie."

"The king could probably sense any significant amount of magic used in there, so no."

"Then how?"

"Palace servants know all of the secret entrances – 'see and not be seen' is their motto."

"Then…why don't we tell Eragon if it's so safe that we don't actually need him?"

"Because he's bringing practically a dozen elves, a child, and a dragon. That's a little too conspicuous for this route. I can only get one other person through, especially with the present circumstances."

"Whatever you say."

Murtagh stormed into the throne room where Galbatorix was lounging on his throne alone, having wandered the halls for about an hour.

"What did you do?" the lad growled, stopping in front of the king. "Why did Nora swear loyalty to you? She hates you."

"Is it that obvious." Galbatorix tsked. "I may have to remedy that."

"Don't you touch her!"

"I thought you didn't care about my daughter anymore, Murtagh. You have your new pet." Murtagh tensed. He knew about Nasuada! "Honestly, Murtagh, even you can only handle one woman. Don't overwhelm yourself."

Murtagh contained a growl.

"Release Nora from her vow."

"Why?"

"I had a vision of her death because of it."

"Even if that is true, the better for me. If her vow causes her death, then she will be giving her life for a good cause."

"But she's your heir. Your daughter!"

"Indeed. You have lost my trust, Murtagh. Though it pains me, it will be a while before I can grant any request. You will have to do something…special."

"Like what?"

"Like defeat Eragon. That would perhaps ensure the release of at least one of your heartthrobs."

A/N: Yet another chapter that originally was one and is turning into more than that... Thank you for all of your support and please be patient with me for the next few weeks. I have midterms and a choir tour coming up faster than I would like.