Welcome to Thorn and Misery!
If you're somebody who's already been through all this stuff and is on chapter number x, go ahead and click the little clicky button (yes, don't you know exactly what I'm talking about…). Adios. Good reading. And review, or I shall have your skin for a fur coat. Hmm. A human skin coat…not too much fur, is there? goes off into thought
BUT ANYWAY!
Before your eyes start glazing over, let me tell newtime readers a little about this VERY VERY LONG story. This is Murtagh's (who is way hotter than Eragon) story, about what he did for the length of Eldest. Yes, it is long, but I'd like to think it's an interesting read.
So. Three points.
Please review! Some reviewers have said that 'oh, you're on twenty four chapters, so what I say on chapter one doesn't make a difference'—OH YES IT DOES! I do go back and edit chapters, e.g. chapter two. So review. I DO look at your comments seriously, and unless you are extremely rude (OMG UR STORY SUXXX I H8 UR GUTS type rude) I will always give your reviews fair due.
I respond to reviews. I respond to every single review I get on the next updated chapter. So if I'm on chapter 30 now and you reviewed, then I will post a response on chapter 31.
Point three…actually, I lied. I don't have a point 3. O.o
Now all that's done with…
REAAAD!
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12/11/101
Murtagh collapsed limply in a heap, the ringing laughter of the Twins in his ears, his body aching. "Traitors," he gasped.
"No," one of them said with a sinister grin. "It is the Varden who are traitors—puny ones, too. That and your little friend Eragon. Interesting, is he not? Galbatorix will be pleased to see you again, the son of his most loyal servant." He leaned over, laughing. "And are you so brave now? Thrysta!"
Murtagh coiled tightly, crying out with pain as what felt like a red-hot poker drilled through his stomach. The pain subsided after a minute, and he lay there, gasping for air. "Arya," he whispered softly. "Eragon…Saphira…"
"Your little friends cannot help you here," the other Twin said. "Skolir fra draumr kópa!"
The ancient words rang in his ears as they laughed unpleasantly. "They may scry all they like, Murtagh—there's naught for it."
Murtagh raised his head, jaw set. He had to escape, to warn Ajihad of the Twins' treachery…if Ajihad was even alive. He sat up unsteadily, calculating the odds. Twelve-odd Urgals, more probably skulking in the shadows of the tunnel. He had lost his sword somewhere, and plus there were the Twins to contend with. He bit his lip. He himself could not wield magic, and without weapons, he was helpless. One of the Twins noticed his mutinous look. "Do not try it," he said coldly. "The ancient words will stop you quickly."
Curse you! Murtagh leapt to his feet, ready to go at it with fists if he had to. The Urgals lunged forth menacingly as Murtagh pulled his arm back for a good sock on the nose. The other Twin held up a hand, ordering the Urgals back.
The punch landed with a satisfying crack. Both Twins fell back, yelling—one, swear words, and the other, "Malthinae! Brisingr!"
Murtagh froze midleap, screaming as blue fire that did not burn streaked over his body. The Twins clambered to their feet, watching him with glittering eyes. "All the same, you Varden," one whispered.
"Cowards when it comes to truly fighting," the other hissed, goading him on.
Murtagh closed his eyes, biting in the screams. "It is you who are the cowards," he spat through gritted teeth. "Fight me with swords, and we'll see then!"
The Twin with the broken nose touched it lightly, saying, "Waíse heill." Both of them looked at Murtagh intently. One seemed about to speak, but the other held up a hand, turning away, muttering darkly to the Urgals.
They huffed and nodded. The remaining Twin turned back to Murtagh. "I suggest you stop struggling," he said icily. "It will be a more peaceful trip to Uru'Baen." His mouth twisted in a bitter smile. "You'll need it. Repeat after me, Murtagh—eka mir neda hlaupa aairí." He laughed. "Repeat it, Murtagh! Brisingr!"
Murtagh screamed again as the fire blazed with renewed fury. Those words were undoubtedly binding, chaining him to them, but anything—anything to stop the pain—gasping, struggling for breath, he panted, "eka—mir—neda—hlaupa—aairí!"
The tunnel echoed with the Twins' laughter. "Good," one of them purred. "Very good, Murtagh. Wise of you."
Just stop it! he cried helplessly. Stop the fire!
The Twins' mouths widened into grins, as if they had heard his thoughts. Drawing each word out slowly, one said, "I…don't…think…so."
He snapped his fingers. One of the Urgals prodded Murtagh's back with a spearbutt. The fire snapped at it, but spread no farther. "See what control we have?" one of them whispered. "It will only burn you, Murtagh...do you like the fire? Do you?"
Murtagh was in no state to respond. One Urgal hefted his frozen body onto its back, grunting with the effort. One of the Twins barked something at them, and off they went.
They exited Farthen Dur through a series of long, winding tunnels. Murtagh spent the entire time in blind agony, feeling the flames lick over his body again and again yet not burning him. It was only until they were outside that they finally commanded, "Letta du brisingr un losna."
The fire vanished, and Murtagh fell, no longer frozen, almost crying with the release of the pain. "Now, my friend," one of the Twins laughed, "we shall journey on to Uru'baen…our king was very excited when he heard you were coming, you know?"
Murtagh mumbled a few weak words. The Twins laughed and said, "You cannot escape, Murtagh. You have sworn in the ancient language, and that can never be broken." One of them gazed off into the horizon. "Why look—our escort approaches!"
Five horses appeared in the mist, two of them with riders. "Twins," the leader said harshly.
They bowed respectfully. "We have brought Murtagh, Morzan's son."
His lips quirked into a humorless smile. "The king will be pleased." He glanced at the Urgals sharply and said, "We have no need of them. Dispose of them."
The Urgals muttered among themselves, hearing this announcement, and some of them actually managed to bring an axe up before the Twins said in unison, "Fetra!"
Veins snapped open in their necks, sending them to a death by bleeding. With cruel smiles, they moved over to Murtagh. "We are powerful, yes," they hissed into his ear before dumping him onto a horse. "Malthinae," one of them said before clambering onto his own horse.
"Go!" the leader ordered sharply to his stallion. With a fierce neigh, it set off, bringing Murtagh closer to Uru'Baen with every step.
I tried my best to keep torture out of it, but I had to add a little to account for Murtagh's hatred of them. And I know eka mir neda hlaupa aairí isn't in the glossary of Eldest—I mean, 'eka' means 'I', and 'hlaupa' is 'run'. Basically, the whole phrase is, "I will not run away." Hey, I tried! First fic! Please R and R, and here's the disclaimer:
I don't own anything or anybody in this fanfic, so don't sue. It will get better if you don't like it, but PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE REVIEW!