Disclaimer: I do not own any familiar characters featured in this story. They all belong to the creative Christopher Paolini.

In the Depths of Misery
By: Silver pup
Part Three

Murtagh fought back a yawn as he watched the rain decrease slowly. The storm had died out so now there was only a light drizzle with a little peak of sunshine from behind the dark clouds. It had taken, he assumed, a few hours for the lightening and thunder to disappear, but the harsh wind was still there.

The young man glanced over to Eragon, who had fallen asleep after their conversation. Since Murtagh had made a small fire their clothes had dried faster, which was why Murtagh's cloak was acting as a blanket for Eragon. The older man didn't know why he let Eragon use it, but for some strange reason seeing his little brother shivering from the cold with his face twisted in discomfort made him feel strange, as if he should do something about it.

Murtagh wrinkled his nose in distaste and bewilderment as he remembered the bizarre feeling that he still had yet to figure out. It was the same feeling he felt for Thorn, an instinct to protect him from the world and anything harmful, and outrage against anyone who gives him even the tiniest discomfort. But this instinct he felt for Eragon was strangely stronger. At first he didn't understand why he would feel more protective of Eragon rather than his own dragon, but after thinking it over he finally he realized why.

It was because Thorn could protect himself while Eragon couldn't. True, his brother could fight and hold his own against an opponent, but he was still training to become a Rider, so there were still people who could best him in a fight. And Eragon also had a tendency to act on impulse instead of stopping and thinking things through, not to mention he was wanted by the Empire and had a rather large bounty on his head. Thorn, on the other hand, had been fully prepared for any type of danger, and didn't have a bounty on his head, and was rather intimidating so people tended to avoid him. Plus, Murtagh knew where he was all the time, unlike Eragon who always running off to save a kitten stuck in a tree or fighting off soldiers with his fellow rebels.

But that doesn't tell me why I would be protective of him, he thought, agitated, as he stretched his arms. Murtagh had a feeling this was part of being a brother, and this instinct was simply his over-protective-big-brother instinct that was finally kicking in. But he had no way of being certain since he had never felt it before.

"Meh, this brother thing is more complicated than I thought," he grumbled to himself. Vaguely he wondered who he pissed off in another life to deserve such a fate, but then he remembered who he was. Oh yeah. Duh.

"No… Arya," Eragon mumbled in his sleep as he turned his head. Murtagh turned to him and arched a slender eyebrow in wonder. Arya? Wasn't that the name of the elf he insisted we rescue? Now why he be calling out her name?

Murtagh!

The Rider's head snapped up as his named echoed in his mind. Relief coursed through him when he realized whom it was.

Thorn? What is it, what's wrong?

What's wrong? Here's what's wrong; I've been looking for you all day and going half insane when I realized you had blocked our connection! Do you have any idea how worried I was?!

Murtagh winced as guilt took over his being. He had forgotten he had blocked their connection when he had stubbornly decided to find his own way out of the forest with no help from Thorn.

I'm sorry, Thorn I had forgotten about that. See I was lost in the forest earlier and didn't want you to know, and-

And why in seven Hells not?!

Because I could find my own way out! Or thought I could, but it turns out I was officially lost and must have been going around in circles forever before I ran into Eragon.

Eragon? What is he doing here? Was he part of that little set up the Varden were planning?

Yes, he was part of the small group from earlier and probably the only survivor, not counting the prisoners. And though he escaped he's badly injured, so we've been hiding out in a cave, waiting for the weather to settle down. Then Eragon will show me the way out and we'll go our separate ways.

But, Murtagh I thought we were ordered to capture Eragon and Saphira and bring them back to the king. Doesn't the magic bind you to the order?

True, but it specifically said that if we saw both Eragon and Saphira, then to capture them and bring them to the king. I've only seen Eragon, and you're not here either, so the magic is useless.

Oh, that makes sense. Loop holes, right?

Correct. Now where are you, Thorn?

I'm at the cliffs where you told me to meet you at. I've been flying around the forest looking for you for hours before I decided to head back to the cliffs and try to contact you again. Good thing you answered too or I was about to go out and start destroying stuff to ease my frustration.

Don't you dare! You remember what happened last time you tried to ease your frustration?

Hey, that was an accident! Besides, I thought you had forgiven me for that.

Oh I have, but the innocent sheep that were your unfortunate victims are still recovering. And lets not get into the farmers…

Okay, I get it, now can we please move on? How long are you going to take to get out of there?

I'm not really sure. Eragon is currently sleeping still, and I don't really want to wake him up.

Really? And why not?

I… I don't know, Thorn. You know how confusing it is with Eragon. So many different emotions and I don't know what to label him as. I mean, he's the enemy now right? So I shouldn't care about him anymore, even if he is my brother. But no matter how many times I tell myself that I can't help but care for him. Hell, I might even love the brat, which is strange since I've only loved my mother and you.

I see. Well maybe you should spend some time with him? I mean, even though he is now the enemy he is still your brother, and he's still going to be your brother when this war is over. You have to face your situation one day, and this is probably the best chance you'll get.

You know I was afraid of that. But I suppose you have a point. I mean talking things over with him would be the best idea but… well I'm just not good at expressing my emotions.

Well he's probably not very good at it either, considering he's related to you, the king of anti-emotion. So you two could probably understand each other pretty well.

Hmp. You make it sound so easy, but for me just thinking about it makes me nervous. And what do you mean I'm the king of anti-emotion? The last time I checked Galbatorix held that title.

Along with the title of oldest-eccentric of the century, yes?

Yes!

Murtagh, are you all right? You sound like you're choking.

No, I'm fine, simply trying to hold back my laughter. Don't want to wake up Eragon yet.

I'm sure. Well now that I know you're safe I think I'll take a nap now. Staying up for three days straight is tiring. You should rest as well, Murtagh since you've been awake as long as I.

I can't rest while Eragon is still sleeping. Some one needs to keep watch for danger.

Very well, but as soon as he wakes up you go to sleep. Understood?

Yes, mother. Anything else you want me to do, mother?

Smartass.

Murtagh smirked as Thorn ended their conversation. He could always count on his partner to offer advice that made his problems seem less complicated than they really were. But Thorn was right about talking to Eragon. If he ever wanted to figure out their relationship, and where they stood in the long run then they would have to talk to each other without insulting the one another every other sentence.

The brunette looked over to Eragon, who was still out cold, but looked more relaxed than earlier. He also didn't look like he would be getting up soon. Sighing, he turned back to watch the forest and wait for his brother to wake up.

It was dark when Eragon finally woke up. Murtagh sat with his legs crossed and leaning against the wall of the cave, staring down at the new fire he started with a distant look in his eyes. He blinked and looked up though when Eragon yawned and sat up slowly. He rubbed his face with one hand and pulled Murtagh's cloak tighter around his slim form. Blinking a few more times, he looked across the fire and into Murtagh's eyes, and the older male was painfully reminded of how young his brother was by the peaceful expression he wore, and the innocent look in his eyes.

Pushing back the lump in his throat, he smiled at the dazed boy and said, "Good morning, sleeping beauty. Or rather good evening considering you've been sleeping all afternoon. How do you feel?"

The Rider blinked owlishly. "Meh, okay I guess. Still sleepy though. And my back hurts and it's very cold."

"Well you fell asleep on the hard and rocky ground, so of course your back is going to hurt. And the stupid storm is beginning to build up again. Hopefully tomorrow it will be over and we can leave," Murtagh replied, and pulled out an apple from his bag and passed it to Eragon.

"Here, eat this since I know you have to be hungry by now."

Eragon took it without question and slowly began to munch away while watching the fire. Deciding now would be good time to talk to his brother civilly, Murtagh started with what he assumed was a simple subject. "So what's the deal with Arya?"

Sadly this turned out to be a mistake, for Eragon stiffened and his face went pale, and most notably his eyes were dejected and discomforted.

Alarmed by his swift change in demeanor, Murtagh asked hesitantly, "Eragon? What's wrong?"

"Nothing," he replied coldly.

The brunette narrowed his eyes and said softy, "Eragon, what's wrong? Did Arya do something to you? Or did something happen to her?"

"You could say that," Eragon said with a hollow laugh. "She is fine from last time I saw her, and it was her who… who hurt me."

Murtagh he gripped the hilt of Za'roc tightly. "Explain."

"There is nothing to explain. I had deeper feelings for her than friendship and she didn't. She rejected me, broke my heart really. It hurts but… it's in the past now." Eragon said softly as he stared into the fire.

Just the idea of Eragon being hurt emotionally made Murtagh angry, but to know that it actually happened filled him with a rage he had never felt before. The Rider thought he had known anger before, but nothing compared to the fury he felt when he heard Eragon's words. It wasn't a hot, burning antagonism he had felt before that blinded him to everything else and consumed him with thoughts of revenge. It was deeper, colder and strangely he felt calm and patient as the rage built up. In fact, it felt more like an outlet for his power; it fueled his magic and strength and he felt for the first time in his life a lust for blood.

"Bitch," he snarled darkly, only half aware that Eragon had snapped his head up and saw staring at him in confusion. "How dare she?! How dare she treat you like that! What is wrong with her?!"

"Don't call her that!" Eragon yelled. "She's not a bitch! She- she's wonderful and smart and beautiful and-"

"A whore, a slut, a cheap lay, which all makes her a bitch," Murtagh interrupted, looking up at Eragon. "Where is she, Eragon? Tell me now so I can find that skank and give her the punishment she deserves. Really, who does she think she is rejecting you? Hurting my little brother like that, we should have just left her in the dungeons where we found her sorry ass!"

"Don't you dare touch her!" Eragon yelled, standing up. "Murtagh, you will not lay a hand on her under any circumstance! She doesn't deserve to be called such horrid things either so stop insulting her! And finally it's not her fault this happened, it just did. She doesn't see me any more than a friend and doesn't want to, and that is fine with me."

"Why are you protecting her?" Murtagh snapped, standing up as well. "She hurt you badly, Eragon and should be punished. Yet, you stand here and protect her well being and name despite what she did to you! Why are you doing this?"

Dark eyes turned into ice as his younger brother glared at him. "It's none of your business what I do and do not do! It is my life and my choice and you have no part or place in it, or did you forget you're my enemy now? Your nothing to me anymore, not my friend, not my companion you're not even my brother anymore!"

Murtagh felt his heart stop before practically bursting with pain, but instead of falling to the ground in anguish like he wanted to, he used it to fuel his cold anger that was now directed at the only person who really understood him.

"Shut up!" he screamed before grabbing the other boy by the neck and slamming him against the cave wall.

Eragon hand's gripped Murtagh's as he tried to pry them off his neck but he was still too weak, and Murtagh was too strong. He tried to push away but his brother had him pinned against the wall with his whole body. Franticly he looked up into his brother's eyes, and saw the hazel orbs were filled with resentment, abhorrence, uncertainty, hurt and betrayal. But most of all, they were glazed with…

…tears?

"Murtagh?" he finally whispered before his vision went black, and he went slack in his brother's arms.

It took Murtagh a few seconds to realize Eragon was unconscious, but when he did he quickly let go. Eragon fell lifelessly against him, and for a heart stopping moment Murtagh thought he killed him. But then he heard the sound of his sibling's gentle breathing. Relieved, he fell to the ground and pulled Eragon into his lap and held him against his chest as his mind finally caught up with him.

Revulsion filled him as he finally realized what he did and he bit back a groan and a sob. He gripped the boy tighter and felt something hot and wet slide down his cheeks. With a shaky hand he reached up and brushed it off, and stared down at his hand as he realized what it was.

Tears.

He was crying.

Murtagh couldn't even remember the last time he cried, except that it was around when his mother had died. The idea shocked him, and for a moment all he could do was stare down at his hand in confusion. Then one of his tears fell onto Eragon's face, and he was reminded why he was crying in the first place.

"Oh no, Eragon. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry," he whispered as he pulled the unconscious body toward him even tighter, and buried his face into the soft, dark hair with silent tears.

He didn't move for the rest of the night.