Disclaimer: I don't own Eragon or anything associated with the Inheritance Cycle.

Claimer: I, SussieKitten, own this plot and the story. Borrow or steal my plot, my original characters (Aksel) or story and I will report you. I also own my version of Saphira/Thorn's human appearances.

Warnings: Male and female homosexuality. Heterosexuality. Swearing or strong language. Mentioned Character Death. Mentioned Hurt/Injuries – mentions of prior injuries on a character. Mentions of past Rape. Supernatural creatures – there will be mainly elves, dragons, vampires and werewolves in this. Mentioned Mpreg – male pregnancy. A little blood – this is a vampire fic after all. If any of this disturbs you, click on the "back" button. I won't tolerate any flames.

A/N I want to thank everyone that has actually dared to read this different take on the Obsession 'verse. I know it's a little out there, but I'm enjoying myself. And I'm so glad to see that other people are too. :)

Be warned; this story is self-betaed.

REPRIEVE

Part Three

"I know you said not to bother you," Tornac said when he called.

Brom turned the silencing-charm back on. "What it is?"

"I just got off the phone with Carn," Tornac said, and he sounded worried. "Harald says the vampire community is getting restless."

Brom walked over to the closest window and pushed back the curtain just enough to see. And there he was, predictably enough. Brom made a note to tell Morzan that the next time they spoke. He'd surely hate being called something as mundane as predictable.

"I may know something about that," Brom said and let the curtain fall back.

Tornac paused. "Gods, Brom," he breathed. "What did you do?"

"Nothing much," he said as he sat back down. "Yet."

Tornac swore in another language, too quick and too low for Brom to catch properly. "Are you mad, man?"

"Considering I'm trying to domesticate a feral vampire, I'd go with a solid yes," he said dryly.

There was a loud thump over the line; like Tornac had dropped something. "You're WHAT?!"

He turned his back on the window, even though he knew Morzan couldn't see him. "Taking Morzan out of commission once and for all."

"Merciful Gods," Tornac said as though it pained him. "Then why not just kill him?"

Brom looked down at the notes he'd been writing over the weeks. He considered the life that was steadily growing inside of him and the one haunting his hallways, desperate for guidance.

"It's complicated," he said finally, voice rough.

Tornac was silent. "Oh Brom," he said, sounding almost frightened. "Tell me you haven't."

"It's better if we talk about this face to face," Brom said, getting up. "I can be there in half an hour."

There was a small, almost inaudible sigh of relief.

"Oh please, Holme," Brom said as he gathered the notes he'd need. "If I'd been turned, I'd tell you. If only so you could put me out of my misery."

"That does sound like something you'd do," Tornac said reluctantly. "I'll see you soon."

-;-

"I'm going out for a short while," Brom said once he found Murtagh.

Murtagh tried to look indifferent to the statement, but he didn't quite pull it off. Brom did him the courtesy of not telling him. Next time. The kid deserved a free pass.

"I'll call the house if I get delayed."

Murtagh shrugged. "Ok."

Brom was struck by the sudden realisation that he was raising a teenager – one that wasn't his own, even. And he was doing a horrible job of it. If Tornac had seen him, he'd have given him more than a few choice words.

He held out a piece of paper. "This is the number to the man I'm going to see. In case you need to reach me."

Murtagh looked surprised.

"Do you know where the phone is?"

Murtagh nodded slowly. He looked between Brom and the paper like it was going to bite him.

"Good." Brom put the paper on the table in front of Murtagh. "I won't be gone long," he repeated.

Murtagh just nodded again.

Brom hesitated, but left once it became clear that Murtagh wasn't going to say anything else.

-;-

Tornac looked like he would have been less surprised if Brom had announced his decision to take up the dark arts. He sat down heavily and brought a hand to his forehead. "Oh," he said finally.

Brom focused on finishing off the herbal tea – Tornac's only non-caffeine brand currently in stock – while he waited for Tornac to finish reorganising everything he'd been told.

"Complicated is...an understatement, I think," Tornac said sometime later, still rubbing at his forehead.

"How do you think I feel?" Brom snorted and put the tea down. He forced himself not to look at the leaves at the bottom. He wasn't anywhere near as proficient as Angela in reading them. He'd only make himself more worked up if he tried.

"I suppose it's gone on long enough that you've made a choice," Tornac said, looking grim. "You're not killing him."

"I thought about it," Brom admitted. "A lot. Especially the first few weeks."

"Then what happened?"

"I don't know," Brom said honestly. "I think it's a combination of things. But maybe mostly Murtagh and the -" he gestured towards his abdomen.

"Speaking of," Tornac leaned forward, "you should get an appointment with Carn."

Brom grimaced. "When I'm ready."

"No," Tornac said firmly. "Soon. Or I'll call him myself."

"Why did I think it was a good idea to tell you again?" Brom said dryly.

"Because you're smart enough to realise when you need help?" Tornac offered, voice just as dry. "Even if you don't sound like it right now."

"Thanks," he drawled.

"I should come and stay with you for a -"

"Absolutely not," Brom interrupted.

Tornac gave him a tired look. "Gods know you don't know the first thing about raisings children, let alone prepubescents -"

"Morzan will tear you to pieces," Brom told him bluntly.

"How have you been escaping unscathed then, hm?" Tornac cocked an eyebrow.

Brom pointed his thumb at the sword that was resting oh-so-casually against Tornac's umbrella stand. "He can't touch me when I'm carrying that."

"Problem solved, then," Tornac said and got up. "We'll just have to take turns carrying it."

"No," he repeated. "Besides, we don't know how Murtagh's going to react."

"Relieved that he doesn't have to spend all his time alone with you, I'd imagine," Tornac delivered right on cue. "And I don't know how much you've told Trianna or Angela, but we'll calling them as well."

Brom shot to his feet. "No way in hell!"

"I'd pay to watch Morzan try to attack them," Tornac said as he went to his bedroom. "In fact, why don't you call them while I pack? That should give us a decent head-start."

Brom put his head in his hands and wondered just where his life had gone so wrong.

-;-

Murtagh clearly didn't know what to make of Tornac, but he seemed open enough to having someone else around the house. It probably helped that Tornac was human and lacked the taint of magic that oozed out of Brom.

They hadn't been at the house for more than an hour before the barrier warned Brom of visitors. Brom reluctantly got to his feet and went to open the front door.

Trianna looked pissed when she saw him. Her eyes were aflame and her hand was out; like she was physically holding someone back. The faint sounds of Morzan cursing somewhere off to the side told Brom all he needed to know.

Angela, always happy to act as Trianna's opposite, smiled when she saw Brom. "May we come in?"

Brom contemplated, for a blissful couple of seconds, to send them away. Then reality crashed in. "Do I have a choice?"

Angela's smile turned sharp. "No."

Brom wisely held up the door and let them in.

He sent Tornac and Murtagh off to get better acquainted while he guided the women to his office. That was hopefully far enough away from the living areas that Murtagh wouldn't be able to hear Brom get cussed out. Brom hoped that Murtagh lack of aggression – at least, so far – meant that Tornac was safe with him. He'd never forgive himself otherwise.

"I'm surprised you haven't called Carn yourself," Angela said once they were settled. "His advice, as well as Harald's, would be of great help to you now."

"Calling them would have meant admitting defeat," Trianna said sharply.

Brom felt his eye twitch and had to bite down on his tongue to keep himself from answering.

"Not defeat," Angela corrected without taking her eyes off him. "Admitting that he'd reached a decision."

"It's never been done before," Brom heard himself say. "Domesticating a vampire this far gone."

"For a reason!" Trianna hissed, eyes flashing. "Everyone that's tried is dead!"

"They weren't me."

Trianna swore at him in the ancient tongue. Brom forced himself not to return the favour.

"I have the upper hand here," he said. "I'm his mate, I'm fostering his child -"

"Carrying his child," Trianna snapped. "Good Gods, Brom."

"I'm not doing this for me," Brom began.

Trianna swore at him again, louder this time.

"Not just for you," Angela said, putting a hand on Trianna's arm. "Who wouldn't like to live a quieter life without having to constantly look over your shoulder?"

Brom had fantasied about that once. Then his dragon had been killed and reality had dragged him off, kicking and screaming. He hadn't been able to look back since.

"Are you willing to help me or not?"

"Of course," Angela said before Trianna could open her mouth. "But the real weight of the burden must rest on you. He won't tolerate us interfering."

"Of course not," Trianna said sourly. "We're encroaching on what he's starting to consider his territory."

Brom pinched the bridge of his nose. On one hand, that was good. It meant that his experiment was working. On the other, he wasn't sure what he felt about Morzan seeing the Teller ancestral land as 'his territory.'

"I probably just need your help spelling some items. For safety."

Angela was nodding before he'd finished speaking.

"You'll have to do the largest part of the cast," Trianna said gruffly. It was going to take a lot before she'd forgive him, Brom knew that. "Or the magic may not cooperate with you."

"I have cast spells before, Magii."

Trianna bared her teeth at him.

Angela shook her head at them. "Let us get started," she decided and got up. "I propose enchanting a smaller object that you can use to pass through the barrier. A sword, Brom?" She cocked an eyebrow. "Really?"

Brom refused to flinch. "It made sense at the time."

Trianna snorted loudly.

Brom reminded himself that she was one of his dearest friends, even if she made him want to tear his hair out most of the time.

-;-

Morzan had some choice words to say about his past and present company when Brom brought down the silencing barrier again. He blocked it out for the most part, though he filtered through the words to see what, exactly, Morzan was complaining about the most.

To his surprise, it wasn't the two witches and how they'd manhandled him to keep him back so they could come and go. It was Tornac.

Brom didn't know whether to feel amusement or despair that Morzan thought he was fucking one of his dearest friends.

Murtagh didn't stop blinking until Brom brought up the barrier again. "Is he your lover?"

Brom snorted. "He's my brother in everything but blood," he said. "The fact that he refuses to leave this house should tell you he feels the same."

Murtagh shrugged his bony shoulders. "It could also mean that he's your protective lover."

Brom barked a laugh. "He may be protective, but I'm hardly the only one it applies to. Stay here long enough and you'll see."

Murtagh still looked sceptical, but he thankfully let the matter go.

-;-

Thanks to Trianna and Angela, Brom had enough spelled items to give to anyone that might decide to stop by unannounced, regardless of the vampire stalking his backyard. As long as his friends remembered to keep their hands on their keys when they stopped by, there would be no mauling on his lands.

Hopefully.

He was coming back from giving one of the keys to Ajihad when he was met by Morzan lingering by the driveway.

Brom cocked an eyebrow. He'd kept the silencing barrier up for the most part. Listening to the same abuse-filled rant got boring very quickly. Rather than to ask Morzan what prompted his behaviour, he pulled out his key and checked his mailbox.

Morzan didn't speak.

Brom refused to let himself get unsettled by something as tame as a stare. He grabbed the junk-mail he found and put it promptly into the bin. He made a note to think about allowing actual mail to go to his mailbox again and made for the house.

Morzan stayed silent until he'd made it past the front yard and all the way up the stairs. Only then, as he was putting the key into the lock, did he speak.

"You're pregnant," he whispered.

Brom stilled, hand still on the key.

Morzan had moved. He was as close as the protective barrier was letting him. He could practically feel Morzan's breath on the back of his neck. "You probably didn't think I knew." The smirk was audible in his voice. "Oh, but I do."

"You sound awfully happy about it," Brom said. He still hadn't unlocked the door. "I didn't know you liked fatherhood that much."

That shut him up. It only lasted for ten or so seconds, but they were ten blissful seconds.

"It's mine," he whispered; like he was surprised.

"So I'm guessing the only reason they called you the great vampire Morzan is because of your great ego," Brom deadpanned, turning the key and pulling the door open. "It certainly wasn't your intellect."

Morzan gave a wordless snarl.

Brom turned to him and yanked the key out of the lock. "You don't scare me, Morzan," he said as he started to pull the door closed. "But I should scare you."

The abuse started up before Brom could close the door properly, but he didn't care. If anything, he felt vindicated for it.

The feeling lasted until he reached his office, and then he realised what he'd done. He'd told Morzan that the child was his. He'd either fucked up colossally or made his smartest move in a long time.

Something told him it wasn't the latter.

-;-

Tornac, as it turned out, hadn't been kidding when he'd threatened to call Carn. Brom quickly had himself an appointment to visit Carn's clinic, which had been delivered along with a very sternly worded letter that implied what would happen if Brom decided not to show.

That was how Brom found himself at the clinic later that week, debating with himself whether to heal the puncture mark – courtesy of a nurse insisting he needed a whole assortment of tests for some reason or other – or leave it alone. He was halfway ready to heal it – he wasn't particularly tempted to smell of blood when he made it back home – when Carn finally arrived.

"I thought you weren't meant to practice medicine on friends and family," Brom said.

Carn gave him a distracted smile. "You're a special case," he said as he flipped through the file.

"I'm flattered," Brom said flatly.

Carn grabbed the chair by the desk and rolled it over to the bed Brom had spent the past half an hour on, slowly losing the feeling in his ass. "Everything looks good," he said, finally looking up from the papers. "How do you feel?"

"I'm not cold anymore and the tiredness seems mostly gone."

Carn nodded. "Both are common symptoms in the first stage of a vampire-related pregnancy." He hesitated. "I talked to Tornac, but -"

"I am the vampire's mate," Brom cut in. "You don't have to worry about scheduling the delivery of a parademon."

"No, just a dhampir," Carn said, looking faintly worried.

Brom grimaced. "I loathe that term."

"It is the most accurate one," Carn told him.

He snorted. "I should apply for a teaching degree just so I can properly school you in all the ways you're wrong."

"It's smart to look into alternate ways of payment now that you have a little one on the way," Carn said and nodded like he actually approved.

Brom didn't point out that he wouldn't need to work another day in his life if he so wished. The inheritance his parents had left him was so large he wouldn't be able to spend it even if he lived for five hundred years. But maybe it would do him good, to find something else to occupy his time. As soon as the baby came there was no way he could go back to hunting. He'd end up missing the baby's life that way and if he really was determined to see the pregnancy through, then it wasn't so he could be a dead-beat dad at the end of it.

Being faced with the very real possibility of hanging up his sword – so to speak – wasn't as daunting as it would have been five, ten years ago. But it still left him reeling.

"Some of the tests won't be back for a while," Carn continued, blissfully unaware of the wake-up call he'd inspired. "I can call you with the results if you'd like, or you could come in for a follow-up appointment."

"The latter," Brom said. "Or Tornac will never let me live it down."

Carn flashed him a quick smile as he wrote something down in the file. "Now, do you want to hear the baby's heartbeat?"

Brom paused. It suddenly dawned on him how Morzan had known about the pregnancy. He'd heard the second heartbeat and drawn his own conclusions.

"All right," he found himself saying.

Carn smiled at him again and went to roll over the equipment.

Brom found that one of his hands had started to migrate and quickly ripped it away before anyone else saw.

-;-

To Brom's surprise, Morzan didn't have anything to say when he made it back from the doctor's. He frowned, but ultimately decided not to point it out.

Tornac asked him more questions about the visit than Brom knew the answer to. He hedged a handful of answers before heading to his room early. He still felt unsettled from before.

He spent the night mulling over the changes in his life and what was coming next, whether he wanted it to or not.

TBC

A/N And that's it for the chapter!

The next one should be out in about five weeks if I don't change up the current update schedule. I might, depending on whether I wanna update for two fandoms or two fandoms plus the NaNo some weeks. We shall see.

I'm sussiekitten over on Tumblr if you want to keep up with my writing and any general life-posts I occasionally make. I mostly just reblog whatever I like, but Tumblr is where I talk about any fics I'm currently writing or are planning to update shortly.

Anyway, I'll see you in the next update! :)