Outskirts of Uru'Baen.
Contrary to popular belief, the great city formerly known as Ilirea and its surrounding holdings were quite bountiful-in more ways than one. Galbatorix's arrogance would never allow his own city of residence to be anything but second to none. The city itself was a marvel of human architecture mixed with magic. Villas and manors that any noble would kill to own could be found close to the kings keep. Magnificent towers, hundreds of feet tall trying to reach the skies dotted the city as well, a sight you would be hard-pressed to find anywhere else but Uru'Baen. Even the outer city where the common people lived rivaled anything that Murtagh had yet seen. These houses were not the rundown wooden shacks that you would expect people with not a drop of noble blood to inhabit. Instead of such a pitiful sight, pristine stone and even marble creations stood proudly, with small humble gardens attached to each and every house.
All of this was of course made possible by what he himself had come to refer to as "The mad bastard's excessive hoarding of magicians". Oh how the lords of the land had rattled their steel when the king decreed that there should be a fixed quota on how many mages you were able to employ. The quotas of course did not affect Galbatorix. The man simply took all the magicians that his vassal's weren't allowed to keep and used them for his own ends.
None ever went hungry if they simply stayed close to the king's capital. The fields production were magnified tenfold as their yield was greatly enhanced by the men and women trained in agricultural magic. Buildings took days, not weeks or months to construct, if you had but one of the thousands of magicians roaming the city help you.
And in turn, the people living here were entirely subservient to Galbatorix. The splendor of their lives made possible by the king's great compassion and wisdom.
As though they wouldn't follow their ruler into fire and death if he but asked it of them. Living in Uru'Baen had become a privilege, a status that not just anyone could obtain. Skilled soldiers and officers, men and women proficient in all kinds of trades and professions, administrators with a key eye on detail, these were the people that occupied Uru'Baen. All of this, plus a hundred other occupations made sure that Uru'Baen was like no other city in Alagaësia. Living in the capital wasn't something you were given freely. It was earned. Something that any man or woman could strive for and admire.
Galbatorix had encouraged infighting between the members of the Wyrdfell for his favor, and this wasn't different in any way. With people by the thousands, all clamoring to live in the shadow of the kings supposed magnificence, it was quite easy to see the comparison.
Despite all of this, as loathed as Murtagh was to admit it. He couldn't dispute the fact that this city was without a doubt the center and pinnacle of human society, far greater than anything the Langfeld line could have ever produced.
And he was heading straight towards said center.
Silent dread, as it always did whenever he caught sight of the black citadel began welling up inside of him. The great fortress within the city looked formidable with its great spires clawing at the sky. The strange thing was that he always had that same reaction of imminent doom. It wasn't as though he did not know what to expect whenever he set foot inside this blasted city.
Perhaps simply knowing was what made it so terrible.
Regardless, he and Thorn were here now and would simply have to endure whatever games Galbatorix decided to play on them.
Landing in the great courtyard within the citadel, spacious enough to fit even Shruikan's great bulk, both rider and dragon began their silent walk towards Galbatorix's throne room.
He had read stories of the ancient city of Doru Araeba located on Vroengard. How the streets and buildings were created with the intent of multiple mature dragons walking around unencumbered. Although few dragons remained, it was clear that his master did not wish to be outdone by the riders of old. The corridors leading up to the throne room were enormous. He did not doubt that Thorn's wings, even if fully stretched, had not a single chance whatsoever of even touching the walls on either side of them.
Their long silent stride finally came to an end as they came upon a great set of doors, which could have been passed off as grand gates anywhere else in Alagaësia. Such was the sheer size of Galbatorix's 'humble abode'.
No guards were posted, yet the great reinforced doors swung open with some silent command, the feeling of magic rippling through the air as they did so.
Together as always, they entered the belly of the beast.
The throne room was almost completely empty, the busy bustling of courtly intrigue nowhere to be found. As was his want, the king wished for complete privacy when conduction business with his most "loyal" supporters.
There was something menacing about such a grand room meant to host thousands of people having less than a dozen inhabitants, even if three of them were dragons. For hundreds of meters he and Thorn walked, passing great pillars of marble with intricately carved dragons trying to reach the ceiling, even as architectural pragmatism made sure that the room was held together.
They finally came to a stop at the steps leading towards the gigantic throne taking up all the attention, well almost all of one's attention if you discounted the man sitting on it. He took his place next to Arya, whilst Thorn located himself behind his rider like Fírnen had done his own. Murtagh was usually the one who had to spend an excruciating number of days in Uru'Baen, all the while waiting for Arya to arrive, but it seemed that she had him beat this time. Though he did not know how long the elf had spent in the city, he doubted that she wanted to stay here longer than necessary.
Galbatorix did have that effect on you.
At least Durza wasn't here as well, by all the gods that was a meeting he did not want to relive.
The suffocating silence that permeated the throne room was finally broken by Galbatorix's strong, yet silky and enticing voice. He honestly did not know what he preferred most, awkward silence as the king peered upon his playthings, or the man's hated voice.
"I was beginning to believe that you had lost your way Murtagh and Thorn, do the two of you get off on wasting your king's time?"
It was always like this, test after test. Galbatorix simply loved adversity. Not surprising when almost everyone one the continent feared your might, but the king truly relished breaking down foes that dared challenge him.
"Of course not your excellence, but the campaign in the Beor's proved time consuming".
He refused to directly apologize to the monster.
"So I'm simply burdened with an incompetent servant. It is truly a shame that you look so much like your father, I am always convinced that Morzan has returned from the dead whenever I see you my boy". A saddened smile formed on the king's lips, the kind of smile a father might graze his lack witted son with. "Then you open your mouth, and all I hear are the failings of your useless mother".
Had it been any man other than Galbatorix's, such an offense would surely have left the perpetrator a head shorter. As it was, he could do nothing but stand there in a seething silent rage.
He noticed out of the corner of his eyes that Arya seemed to shift her stance awkwardly, no doubt she wanted nothing more than to run the bastard through. He appreciated the sentiment, but for now he would have to bide his time.
Galbatorix simply said nothing as he continued to bore a whole into Murtagh's forehead. He suspected a mind probe would slam into him at any moment. His defenses were readied, not that they would do him any good, but he had made sure the king would never find the vast machinations of betrayal that lurked within the deepest recesses of his mind.
It seemed like his master had other plans.
"But enough about your failings, we have other matters discuss, much more important matters".
The king then brought his full attention upon Arya. He could easily see the mental struggle between the two as Arya refused to submit to Galbatorix, simmering amethyst eyes peered into burning emerald intently. Arya was strong, very strong indeed, yet still Murtagh knew that there was only one possibly outcome.
Predictably, within less than a minute Arya was brought to her knees in exhaustion and obvious pain. Fírnen began growling threateningly behind her, only to be silenced by Shruikan's bellowing roar, shaking the very foundations of the throne room.
Every fiber in his being screamed at him to help his fellow rider, to hurt those that would inflict such cruelty upon Arya, but the forced oaths of the ancient language held him back, refusing to let him move against his master.
"I must admit this determination within you is rather enjoyable princess, you mirror Evandar in so many ways. I'm certain he would be most grateful that I have yet to make a corpse out of his daughter as I did him".
The young elf was physically shaking now, no doubt trying to contain the vast ocean of emotions wanting to be let loose.
Galbatorix continued talking as if he hadn't just mentally tortured someone.
"Nevertheless, I saw within your mind that you knew of the egg having been hatched, bad form not to inform your king of such happenings Arya". Murtagh mentally scoffed, as if the bastard hadn't known the moment the egg hatched himself. "But said egg is exactly why we are gathered here today. Action is required of us, there are two beings out there who must be brought under our protection".
It was all he could do to not laugh out loud at such a ludicrous statement. He'd rather die than submit another being to Galbatorix's 'protection'.
"I am sure that this comforts you, little Eldar".
Arya had finally, with the help of Fírnen, gotten to her feet yet again.
She didn't deign the king with a response.
Galbatorix simply rewarded Arya's defiance with an unconcerned sniff, as if she was nothing more than a petulant child.
"In any case, this new pair of rider and dragon have proved elusive. They are no doubt traveling with someone powerful, or perhaps even a small cell of rebels".
Murtagh had to refrain from rolling his eyes, his master obviously wanted one of them to ask why he had come to such a conclusion, and unless he and Thorn desired their immediate future to involve excruciating pain, then they would simply have to play along.
"And how did you come to such a conclusion my king?" He decided to take a hit for the team, Arya and Fírnen had suffered enough already. He doubted that they wanted to trade any more words with their evil overlord than necessary.
Galbatorix smiled magnanimously. "What an excellent question Murtagh, but any fool could have come to this conclusion with the necessary information. The reason I know is because the Ra'zac are dead, slain no doubt by whoever is helping this new rider and dragon.
Murtagh's eyebrows rose just an inch. That was no small feat, this new pair must truly have some powerful friends.
This was rather odd considering that he had read Marwyn's report from this backwater village known as Carvahall. He was certain that this was where the egg had hatched, but who in all the hells would have the power to slay the Ra'zac plus their mounts, and still choose to live in such a remote place?
He noticed that Arya's eyes were gleaming with satisfaction, the pain from earlier clearly forgotten.
Unfortunately, Galbatorix noticed as well.
Immediately something invisible slammed into the elven rider, bringing her to both her knees yet again.
"Your defiance is beginning to tire me Arya, surely you must be exhausted of all this punishment as well. I can't imagine Fírnen enjoys seeing his rider writhing on the floor like a witless worm".
As if to put his words into action, another invisible force with the strength of a small avalanche slammed into the emerald rider. The dark king was proven right, for what could Arya do but writhe around on the cold marble floor as Galbatorix tortured every cell in her body, screams of unbearable agony filled the room as Fírnen too began whimpering in mutual pain.
The moment stretched for gods knows how long before it finally ended, but not how any of them would have thought.
"ENOUGH!". A strong unbreakable voice pierced through the cold throne room, not even Arya's screams could drown out the unshakable will behind such a command. Hells, even Galbatorix had finally stopped torturing his poor student, instead he simply grazed his other pupil with a smile, both malicious and perversely proud.
Only then did Murtagh understand that it was he who had yelled.
Emboldened by this open defiance he made his way towards Arya, who had unwillingly curled herself into a fetal position. He doubted that she would ever want anyone but Fírnen to see her brought so low.
He could definitely sympathize.
She was not the only one who had faced Gablatorix's proverbial stick.
With Fírnen's assistance he helped his fellow rider find her feet yet again. At first she recoiled from his human touch, no doubt thinking Galbatorix had come to continue her punishment physically, but within second she relaxed.
Then their dark master had to sully the moment.
A single set of claps could be heard reverberating through the gigantic room.
"Excellent Murtagh, most excellent" The king proclaimed loudly, as though a crowd was watching them. "That is exactly the kind of determination and righteousness that our, though glorious empire, still do lack. For a second you were not Murtagh, but Morzan come again to challenge me for a perceived wrong, oh how I have missed such true undiluted defiance".
Murtagh loudly grinded his teeth, would the man never stop taunting him?
"Oh don't be so discouraged Murtagh." The kings eye's glimmered appreciatively. "You should be proud of your protectiveness, nay dare I say possessiveness of a fellow rider, this will surely be needed whenever our newest members are included into this little family".
Murtagh wanted to gag.
Galbatorix simply smiled magnanimously at the four of them.
"Nevertheless, the matter of our rouge rider has been taken care of, with time they will realize that they have bitten off quite a bit more than they can chew".
His eyes narrowed at all four of them before continuing. "All you have to do is return to your respective frontlines and push forward with the war effort. Despite your defiance Arya, I am most interested in personally interrogating the elves currently being transported towards the capital, you have my gratitude". Said gratitude was of course wasted on the elven princess, but she did manage to contain her murderous gaze, no doubt Arya wasn't eager for round three with the king.
Galbatorix simply smirked at her obvious discomfort before finishing off
"I do always enjoy these little talks, they are as usual most enlightening". He spared both Eldar and man but an amused smile before waving one hand at them. "Begone then, you can stay at your respective homes for this night, but by tomorrow I expect your swift departure, duty waits for none".
And with that the two humanoids bowed deeply as the king expected, although it was a hollow gesture, for none of them dared incur the man's wrath. Thorn and Fírnen likewise bowed their enormous heads towards the king.
Galbatorix indulgently inclined his head towards both pairs in a mockery of noble decorum, whilst Shruikan simply looked on, bored and completely uninterested as he had not been allowed to kill anything.
As the four of them made their way out of the throne room Murtagh decided to speak up.
"Do you need anything Arya, or you Fírnen for that matter?" By all the gods did that not just sound lackluster. Caring for people other than himself and Thorn was honestly a new concept that he was still coming to terms with.
There was no doubt that Fírnen was as damaged as Arya from their earlier encounter, this was simply the way of a dragon and their rider, they shared their happiness, but also their pain. He clearly remembered the times that he and Thorn had retreated from the king and curled up to one another in mutual agony.
Arya turned her head to look at him as they traversed the halls leading to the courtyard.
"We're fine Murtgh".
They of course were not fine, even a fool could see that, but the red rider refrained from intruding any further. If they wanted space, then that was their choice.
The rest of the walk passed in silence as they both climbed atop their respective dragons in the courtyard and set course for their residence's
Home should forever be synonymous with safety, comfort and to an extend even family.
Murtagh felt not one bit of safety or comfort within these walls.
It was a very large mansion, but safe for a few servants keeping the place clean and orderly nothing truly of note could be said about it. Although the fact that several nobles had loudly lamented about how much greater his abode was compared to theirs did definitely earn the place a few points in the riders book.
Those few points were very quickly deducted within Murtagh's mind, whenever he was reminded of his proximity to Galbatorix's keep. Hells, if he strained his senses it almost felt as though the dark king was observing him from a distance.
That thought held a disturbing amount of legitimacy.
'Best not to dwell on such things'
He wandered the absurdly large house aimlessly for a very long amount of time. He was always did seem restless after meeting Galbatorix. It might have been better for him to have gone flying with Thorn, but he sensed that his partner needed rest for the time being. At some point a glass of deep red wine imported from Surda and some exotic fruits from the east had made it into his hands.
He avoided drinking as a general principle. It always reminded him too much of his father and his drunken rampages whenever something was not to his liking. Yet it was also a way of spitting his father in the face from beyond the grave. Murtagh could drink freely without giving into all the negative emotions whirling around within him, he had plenty of reasons to lash out at the world and yet he did not.
Oh how he loved harnessing control when his abusive father could not.
Silently, the red rider raised his glass towards the ceiling, as if congratulating some imaginary person. It must have looked rather strange from an outsider's perspective.
He might be bit tipsy.
It would probably be best if he went off to bed, he always slept soundly whenever he had consumed a bit of quality wine. He wondered if Thorn would sleep better with some wine in his belly, but then again Murtagh was not sure about the logistics of such an undertaking. He should perhaps just ask for a giant keg of wine and see what would happen from there. Could dragons even get drunk? He wondered if Thorn would even-
"You really should improve the defenses of this place Murtagh"
He damn near spat the rest of his drink out upon the floor at the voice suddenly speaking to him. He turned around, not angrily mind you, but nonetheless rather confused.
"How the fuck did you get in here Arya?"
Said elf simply cocked a singular eyebrow at her fellow rider's vulgar exclamation. She also eyed the drink in wine glass in his hand critically.
"Been drinking Murtagh?"
"…"
"Maybe"
He tried to subtly remove the glass from her sight, as if she was a mother who'd just caught his child's hand in a cookie jar.
The elven princess decided to let him off the hook and simply shrug her shoulders in response. "Your choice Murtagh" She turned around to absentmindedly look at the surrounding hallway. "But you should really try to improve the wards on this place, it was rather pitiful with how easy it was for me to get in here".
Murtagh smiled dejectedly to himself at such a comment.
"It doesn't matter, the one being I would want to keep out could tear my defenses down in minutes."
And it truly didn't matter, he had nothing to hide within this giant waste of space. Whatever physical secrets that had to be kept out of Galbatorix's view should most certainly not be hidden within Uru'baen.
"I suppose you are right, defying that blasted Orúm is inadvisable". As if to show her words validity Arya's whole body suddenly convulsed as she gasped out with sudden pain.
Panicked, Murtagh quickly rushed to her side as he had in the throne room. The stoic elf simply raised a hand, waving him and any assistance that he could provide off. So instead of helping he just stood there, watching as she got her breath back.
"You should be resting Arya why are you even here?" She really should, Galbatorix's torture usually came with a nice dose of side effects that persisted for days.
He was rewarded with a rather unladylike snort.
"I don't think I'll find any rest tonight Murtagh". Piercing Emerald eyes once again met his unshakable grey ones as they had that night in Gil'ead, and even before that, within the bowels of the very city they were currently in.
The Eldar's next words almost knocked the wind out of his proverbial sails.
"Are you planning on leaving Alagaësia Murtagh?"
"…"
"I've been thinking of it ever since you asked about Alalëa, it just suddenly clicked for me afterwards. Not that I blame you, ours is a cruel fate and the thought has certainly crossed my mind".
"…"
"Please speak Murtagh, your silence is enough confirmation".
After a little while, the baffled rider decided that he might aswell stop looking like an idiot and start speaking.
"You are quite perceptive, aren't you?"
Arya smiled lightly "It wasn't that hard of a conclusion to draw".
No he supposed not, which was exactly why he wasn't going to blabber questions about Alalëa to just about anyone.
"So why bring this up?"
Arya seemed pensive for a moment, but in the time that Murtagh had known her, she had always remained steadfast about the task at hand, so he didn't have to wait long for a response.
"I don't want you to give up on this struggle Murtagh, not while there is still hope for a better future".
Murtagh suddenly realized that drinking might have been the wrong choice. There was a lot to unpack within that sentence, and sobriety suddenly seemed very preferable.
With a grimace he began talking.
"It's a slim hope Arya, there is a great distance from killing a couple of Ra'zac to defeating Galbatorix". And the truth was most likely that someone had helped this fledgling rider and dragon. It was quite incredible to Murtagh that someone like Arya held such blind faith in the idea that a free rider might equal Galbatorix.
"I have told you before that this hope you hold might turn to naught but ash, senseless faith may very well destroy you and Fírnen both".
Indignation flared across the elven's features, but she quickly smoothed them over.
"I'm not a fool Murtagh. It is my greatest wish that I and Fírnen be the ones to end the tyrant and not some far off hope, but as of now you and I are but slaves". Her words had taken on a slight edge at the end. Murtagh idly wondered whether Arya too were looking for ways to break her bondage to Galbatorix.
Who was he kidding, this was Arya so of course she was. While he was hiding his intentions behind angry compliance, she was openly defying Galbatorix as a front whilst most likely hiding certain devices and stratagems to be used later.
"I never wanted to give the impression that I thought of you as foolish, it would almost be the height of hypocrisy considering your age compared to mine".
Arya smiled weakly at that comment.
"And yet my race has done nothing but sit behind their ancient wards for a century, content with sticking their heads in the ground for fear of actually seeing the world for what it is".
Murtagh couldn't argue with that, but he doubted that insulting the elves would go over well with Arya. She was right though, the elves idleness had definitely not helped anyone.
"But I digress" And at those words, Arya closed the distance between them, with her stopping just Infront of him. She slowly took his hands to tenderly hold them within hers, a look of pure vulnerability upon her face. It was a gesture he doubted she had given anyone else since her companions were killed by Durza. "The two of us are bound together, not only by malicious shackles, but also friendship that transcends our races and even our parents". She paused for a couple of seconds, those emerald orbs still boring into his eyes.
"Don't leave me alone in this".
He should be angry, seeing as this might even be considered manipulation. For most of his life it had only been himself that he'd had to care about, but now there was also Thorn, hells even Tornac back in the mountains too. But ever since Arya and he emerged from Uru'baen's dungeons, she too had become a part of that small close-knit circle and Fírnen too by extension of course.
They were riders, blessed to have bonded with dragons yet shackled to a sinister master. Theirs was a bond which wasn't easy to quantify, for he doubted that few if any had survived the same ordeal as them. There was a mutual trust between them that could not be underestimated, and if he were to accept this, then he was sure to count on Arya to watch his back, and vice versa.
Murtagh steadied himself as those delicate hands was felt within his own.
He mentally slapped himself.
Delicate was truly the wrong description for anything to do with Arya. Yes, her hands might be soft, but he had seen her skill with a blade and magic both. Even now as he held those hands, a subtle flow of power and strength could be felt from within her. Not only the power of her elven heritage, but also of her dragon and that ever persisting determination which he knew she controlled.
He dared a small smile.
"Together then, Arya Svit-Kona"
The ancient language rolled of his tongue easily. It wasn't a pledge, for there was plenty of ways around such a loose statement, but it was a genuine promise to a dear friend.
He truly hoped he wouldn't have to break such a promise.
He watched their retreating figures leaving the throne room as fast as decorum and his inevitable wrath allowed them, until at last they were out of sight.
For a time, he simply sat on his throne, pondering about his two riders.
They were fools if they thought to deceive him. He did not doubt for even one second that Morzan's erstwhile son was plotting something, but the boy's specific intentions had proved elusive for the time being. It was obvious that he had received help from someone, a person like Murtagh should not be able to hide his treacherous thoughts from him alone.
And there was of course not a single reason to suspect that Evandar's spawn would submit easily either. Given the chance she would no doubt love to end him personally and painfully.
He smirked at such a thought.
Perhaps some light "sparring" with the elf would prove relaxing.
Yet still their most compromising thoughts and plans had proved difficult to find.
It of course didn't matter in the end.
He would let them play their little games for now and lure them into a false sense of security, whilst preparing himself to unveil whatever secrets they were hiding. Then, finally he would destroy whatever measure of measly control they had fashioned for themselves and bind them even closer to his power. It was pitiful really, that they thought to deceive him when so many others had failed. They too would come to realize such folly.
And from what he had observed the two had even grown closer. Not the exact outcome that he had foreseen when he ordered Murtagh to torture the girl, but it would without a doubt prove useful. They really should know better than to hand a being such as he an obvious weakness like that.
A strong hand came to rest beneath his jaw as he sat there, deep in thought of how best to use this development.
For now, he would let that budding relationship evolve in whichever direction the young fools decided upon. Perhaps he would force the two of them into conflict like he had the other forsworn, or maybe simply abuse their emotional attachments whenever needed. He would most definitely punish the two of them and their dragons harshly whenever he felt the time was right to unveil whatever deceit they were planning. There should be plenty of ways to play them out against each other in such a scenario.
He absentmindedly felt Shruikan impatiently pacing around behind him, no doubt hoping to be released from this performance he had staged for the riders.
The king aggressively reached across the space between their minds, and forcefully willed the black behemoth to still. The psychic tendrils of pain that were passively exuded from Shruikan's mind fazed him not one bit, for how could mere symptoms damage their source?
With that distraction out of the way, his mind returned to one of the more interesting events in the last year. It was still a mystery to him how the Ra'zac were overcome, for no freshly minted rider, no matter how skilled would be able to defeat them, especially when you considered that the rider most likely was human in origin. He doubted that there were any elves who had dared a venture into the spine, and there was no way that the egg had hatched for an Urgal, mongrel beasts that they are.
Whoever was helping this new rider was undoubtedly skilled, so skilled in fact that there might be multiple people involved. There were few humans left in this world with the capability to match a single Ra'zac, not to mention a pair of them plus their parents.
Yet it would be difficult for them to escape the spine itself unnoticed. The northern passage into Du Weldenvarden would be closely watched by Durza, Arya and whatever agents they employed. The southern edge of the spine was a possibility, but there would be no refuge to be found within Surda and reaching the besieged Dwarves could only be considered suicide with Murtagh and his host within the mountains.
The Spine was indeed a vast mountain range, so for the time being his adversaries might just remain there. Galbatorix knew the treacherous pitfalls of that hellscape well, considering that he lost half his army there. The most terrible defeat of his reign most had proclaimed it.
"Still, the men did fulfill their main objective." The monarch thought idlily as he fingered a white crystal like shard connected to a golden chain hanging around his neck.
Yet the fact remained that he needed this new rider and dragon, the dragon especially within his grasp. Not only were they a beacon of hope that he could not allow his enemies to cultivate, but this last dragon's value was far greater than just its gender.
He had to draw them out of the spine.
Luckily, he knew exactly how he could go about doing just that.
A/N.
He lives!
I Apologies for the very, very long wait, so I hope this slightly longer chapter can make it up to you a bit.
Thank you so much if you are still reading this:).