Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, I have good news and bad news…you want the bad news first? Yeah, you do.
SCHOOL. HAS. STARTED.
-keels over and dies-
So, yep, we are back to once a week updates. I can no longer update every 4/5 days now…-points finger at school accusingly- IT'S ALL THEIR FAULT!
The good news is…
MY MUSES HAVE BEEN CAPTURED! –insert evil cackle here-
Hahahaahah. Found them releasing killer French Roast beans; it took me the better part of a week to finally stalk them down. They are in custody and rest assured THAT THEY ARE NEVER ESCAPING AGAIN!
Actually, I have no idea why I keep them around anyway. They're next to useless and always running off. –glares-
Anyway, I know I said I would start this chapter a coupla months later, but I found that I couldn't make the jump realistically and stick in the scenes I wanted at the same time. So this particular chappie picks up fairly near the VoS chapter; it's just a few weeks later. Enjoy!
Note: This chapter contains some major swearing, but you can take that, right?
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4/27/101
Murtagh gasped, jerking sharply awake. He closed his eyes, swallowing as he swung his legs over the side of the bed, rubbing his forehead uneasily.
He stood up, groping for the pitcher of water near the bed. For some reason, he felt slightly sick. The voices seemed to sense his weakness, rising in intensity.
Oh, shut it, he thought irritably at them. Go to hell.
Stalking over to the balcony doors, he swung them open, letting the cool night air flow into the room. It was a relief on his bare skin, wiping away some of the nightmare sweat.
You're awake, came a disgruntled voice.
Murtagh sighed. Yes.
I see. Well, I've got babysitting duty, so try not to kill yourself. You want a doggy biscuit to keep you occupied?
You don't need to snap out at me, Murtagh said dully.
News to me, Thorn muttered. A sound came from the roof above; Thorn's new roost was just above Murtagh's apartments. Things are changing.
They always are, Murtagh said listlessly. Changes must be made, Thorn.
Do they? the dragon snorted. Well, why don't we just have to start a huge war and change everything while we're at it? Stability? Peace? Pssh. Why bother?
Necessary war, Murtagh answered softly.
So you say. But what does that mean?
Murtagh sighed, a soft sound of defeat. For some reason, his fingers crept to his back, tracing the scar Morzan had left on him. I suppose that…in order to have peace, some sacrifices must be made.
Thorn considered this. And who decides what's sacrificed and what's not?
The winners, Murtagh answered instantly. Predator and prey. The strong win, the weak fall. That's the way it's always been, even with the elves.
Is that really what you think? Then what happens if we're the weak ones?
Then we fall.
A dark sigh came from above, and the tip of a red tail dropped slightly over the roof. So that's what you believe? Thorn asked sharply. Then apply your philosophy to something else, won't you? Galbatorix, admittedly, is the strongest. So that means he can do whatever the crap he wants, then, correct? If he wanted to dance a conga on the roof, he could do it whenever the hell it pleases him. So if he wants to torture, to maim, to kill, that's all fine because he's the stronger one. No?
I—Murtagh began.
No, no, don't say anything, my sagely Rider, Thorn continued, his voice growing angrier. So if he wants to play havoc and shit with our lives, that's all fine. If he wants to destroy Alagaesia through warfare, torture, and magic, hey that's great too! And if he wants to—
Thorn! Murtagh snapped. Stop it!
Thorn subsided, but Murtagh could sense seething anger under the mental link. Finally, the red dragon said in a very controlled voice, You're blinded.
Blinded? Murtagh demanded, his own emotions tainted by Thorn's anger. Oh, and I suppose you're the wise one to see!
More than you are! Thorn exploded. You're such a slobbering little puppy dog of Galbatorix's. You idolize the bastard, don't you, you—
I do not! Murtagh yelled, stunned.
With a single violent burst of sound, Thorn leapt off the roof. Ignoring the potential danger, he set a claw on the balcony as he stared viciously at Murtagh. Then why do you listenThorn demanded. I can smell the stink all over your thoughts, even if you won't admit it. You admire him, don't you? You think his ideals are something worth following.
Murtagh whirled away from the balcony, breathing hard. Memories raced through his head, spilling over into his thoughts. During his fever after the Vault of Souls, he had been thrown through a twisting maelstrom of dreams, all of them nightmares of one form or the other. The only relief to be found was in the calm melody of the voice—the voice that told of Galbatorix's dreams, or of his portrait of a perfect Alagaesia…
He'd believed, because there was nothing else for him to do. In that world of chaos, the only pathway to peace was to listen. Afterwards, even after he awoke, those dreams remained…
Don't you understand? Murtagh said finally, his voice faint and pleading as he turned back to Thorn. To have—to have a rebuilt Alagaesia. Is that so bad?
Depends on the cost, Thorn said grimly. On what he's willing to do in order to achieve it. Do you really think his 'perfect' Alagaesia is going to really have the best in mind for everyone? Where are the ethics? The morals? Where do you draw the line!
Murtagh didn't reply. Thorn drew a shaky breath and said in a softer voice, In order to have peace, yes, some sacrifices must be made. But it's not up to you, or to me, or to whatever damn god is out there to decide. Power carries the decisions, but ethics and temperance must make the final choice. Galbatorix failed to see that. He's always failed to see that.
There was a long, heavy pause. Finally, Murtagh said in a quiet voice, That's what Salem said, too.
I know, Thorn said. Feeling Murtagh's surprise, he snapped, Well, I'm not deaf, am I? Your conversations aren't as nearly private as you think.
It was a shock to feel. Murtagh should've known that his words with Salem was listened into, but to actually hear it from somebody…And—you knew of the—
Yes, Thorn said mulishly. Not that I wanted to. Your emotions were so strong at that point I had to block most of them off.
Murtagh bit his lip, staring off into the distance blankly. Salem—he began, struggling to phrase his words. I—I loved her, Thorn. Don't—don't try to—
I won't, Thorn muttered, touching the turmoil of emotions in his Rider.
The dragon's mental touch gave Murtagh a kind of empty solace. He sighed, dropping heavily down onto the bed. I don't know, he said finally, his voice lost. I don't know about anything.
Then I'll tell you, Thorn said quietly. You respect him, don't you? You think his goals are something worth aiming for. He's ruthless, yes, but it takes exactly that quality to dominate. And once he's in solid control, you think that he'll change for the better and work to the improvement of Alagaesia. Am I correct so far?
Murtagh nodded mutely. Thorn sensed his confirmation and continued. It all comes down to the matter of price. How much will Galbatorix's dream cost? It's already taken your swe—Salem from you. And from Galbatorix's first domination until now, how many people have died? How many people will die? How many lives will be taken at his whim?
The dragon paused at this point, considering. I'll tell you. You're going to hate me, but I'll tell you anyway. Galbatorix is a fucking bastard. His ideals are shit, his morals are crap, and there's nothing he cares about but his own fat ass. By following him, you're just walking into the same muckfield that he lives in! Listen to me, Murtagh. He cares about nothing, nothing but himself and his own glory. By following him, you're falling for every trap he's ever laid.
And how are you so certain? Murtagh cried. How do you know? You've never heard him, Thorn, never up close. What he's shown to you…it's not what he could be.
Silence. In a very soft voice, he said, What happened to you, Thorn?
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There was nothing but dull, thick silence from above. Inside his mind, Murtagh felt a harsh barrier slam down between them, blocking away all emotions. No emotions could come in or out.
Finally, Thorn said harshly, You don't need to know.
Murtagh stayed silent, waiting.
The dragon slapped his wings once, vaulting up onto the roof, out of view. Murtagh could hear agitated pacing coming from the ceiling. You don't have to tell me if you don't want to, he said quietly.
Well, aren't you a little hero! Thorn spat. So noble. 'Oh, not if you don't want to'. How kind of you. Well, stuff your morals, stuff your heroism, because I don't need any of it! There was a fierce, agitated pause, then Thorn demanded, say something!
What happened? Murtagh repeated softly.
Nothing! Just nightmares, and hell, and seeing people torn to pieces. Do you know what I—Thorn broke off, anger and tension beginning to seep through their link. Do you know what happened while you were up there? Chasing that girl? Galbatorix called me, he forced me to tell of Martaila and Neal. Damn, you think, but that's nothing! So I went over the woods and watched those godsdamned Twins mess everything up. And then after that—
He broke off, unable to continue. Murtagh closed his eyes, Thorn's pain beginning to ignite the voices in his head once more. The two blended together, threatening to swamp his vision. And then? he asked distantly, his hands gripping the edge of the bed for support.
And then my Rider fainted because he's too fragile, came the acid reply. Get a grip on yourself, would you? Pour some water over your head.
With shaking fingers, Murtagh pulled the pitcher of water closer. Some of the liquid spilled out, staining the finely woven carpets. He took a shaky breath, splashing some of the water over his face.
It had been nearly a week since he had awoken from his fever, but the voices were still very difficult to control. Galbatorix had only started training two days before, and the emperor was cheerfully unsympathetic to the constant nausea headaches, saying only that they would fade with time.
Oh, stop moaning, Thorn said, breaking into his thoughts.
Murtagh exhaled slowly, working to keep his feelings under control. The voices surged when his emotions grew out of check, especially in anger or in pain. Carefully, he concentrated on breathing, tamping his feelings down.
It worked, the voices easing off. When Murtagh felt like he could breathe again, he said quietly, Go on.
And have you swoon again? No, Thorn said. There was an irritable sigh, and then the dragon added, Go to sleep. You have training in the morning.
Murtagh nodded slowly, pulling himself up. We're going to continue this conversation another time, he said softly. I want to know what happened.
I can hardly wait, Thorn muttered. You're such an intelligent little psychiatrist.
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It seemed to be barely a minute later when Murtagh was shaken awake by a caroling Galbatorix. The emperor tore open the drapes, letting sunlight flood into the room. "Wake up, m'dear!" he boomed. "It's morning!"
Murtagh flinched as the bright sunlight hit his eyes, painfully drilling into his brain. Galbatorix's face peered at him, bright and maliciously cheerful in its elven beauty. "Why, little Rider, trouble?"
Murtagh forced himself to sit up, eyes squinting against the brilliant morning light. His fingers groped along the edge of the bed as he struggled to collect his thoughts together. "What…" he managed, fumbling.
A wad of cloth smacked him in the face. "Get dressed," that inhumanly jovial voice suggested. "I'll meet you downstairs."
Murtagh's eyes opened a tiny slit further as the door to his apartments slammed shut. With a groan, he untangled the shirt and held it between the sun and him.
Great. Another day.
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End of Chapter Thirty-Eight
The plot bunnies have attacked. –screams- I have managed to neglect the long-awaited scrying scene in this chapter…so…guess what! Another chapter for you.
Gah, I hate myself! This completely sucks. I want to get this fic over with, but somehow I manage to keep on tacking chapter after CHAPTER! This is SO ANNOYING!
Well, there's good news…no wait there is no good news. Never mind. Life sucks. I'm going to go kill myself now.
-stabs self and dies-
Anyway, I may be able to finish the chapter for tomorrow, BUT—the site says that they'll be down for maintenance Sunday. So, blech, there goes an extra week down the drain because I'm strictly forbidden to use the net on schooldays.
Jatterquist: I did type up a more concise version of the hatching in the original chapter three, but I ditched it because there were several major mistakes in it.
Fallonaiya Sedai: No, there's ONE MORE CHAPTER BEFORE THE BURNING PLAINS! I need a life. I need to stop making up new chapters cuz I'm going to go craaaaazzzzzzzy!
Ariel32: No, Thorn didn't know. Thorn went through something while Murtagh busy chasing Salem during 4/3/101, and I'm not too sure if I'll ever be able to describe it in detail. But yes, Thorn went through something else. :)
K.A.T. Hiwatari: Mean anything? Nah. I just picked out a couple ancienty-languagey words and decided to piece them all together. I mean, Murtagh's ancient name stands for him, so I suppose you could translate his ancient name as meaning 'Murtagh'. Does that make sense?
Aaah, steak. Actually, I'm more in a chocolately mood. MMM! Godiva chocolate!
Rotem: Thankees :)
Its.Garnet.Time: Yeah, well, I have a gift for insanity. It runs in the family, you know; my sister can write these horribly depressing stories that make you want to cry. Or maybe it's just because I'm a soppy tenderheart that weeps when the hero dies or whatever. Anyway.
I'm being insanely random today…
Kana410: No idea what in the world I'm going to do after this fic. I think I'll move on to update some of my other neglected fics, but otherwise I don't know. I mean, I would like to do another Inheritance fic, but I don't have any plotlines! I'm actually quite uncreative and have the imagination of a torpid slug.
Aurora: I thought Jay Chou wasn't releasing any more albums! And aren't he and Jolin dating? I thought they were; why would she be releasing a competitive album?
And yes, Galbatorix did something quite different to Thorn. The way these last few chapters are going, I think you'll never know exactly what; you'll just know that it was something life-altering and stereotypically tragic. I might (place due emphasis on might) be able to squeeze it into chappie 39, but don't count on it.
Dreamgirlhoo: Are your commas misplaced? Well, thanks anyway…
Gewher: Ack, it's probably Arya or else a third brother that has been spirited from the ruins. Or sister. Seriously, at least ONE of the Riders has better be a girl! I mean, Paolini's pretty good at keeping roles non-chauvinistic, but there should be at least one female Rider...
Connac's not dead? –looks at Connac quizzically- Oh yeah! He's not. Well, not if I have anything to say about it…-cackles evilly-
Coffee Grounds: NOO! HE'S MINE! MINE, DO YOU HEAR, MINE!
-clings to Murtagh- I'm so mean. I torture all my favorite characters and beat them up and make them do gods-know-what and to WHAT END?
Oh yeah…the plot. –sigh-
Alsdssg: Agh! I wanted to show some of the effects of the VoS in this chapter, but was unable to squeeze it in. –stabs plot bunny- I hate it when I go around adding chapters like that! The end is so close, and yet so far!
Mistress-of-Misery: Yeah, the Shattered Mirror fic was SUPPOSED to be oneshot, but lots of miraculous things can happen when you're bored. Bush can go to war with Iraq, people can go around killing each other, and a new chapter can be added to what was supposed to be one-shot. –shrugs- One of the unexplained miracles of this world.
Salem's going to be stuck in the VoS as long as Murtagh lives. Which sucks, basically, but I have no conscience when it comes to torturing plot characters. Oh, wait, I do. Well, it can't stop me.
Amantine: Well wait, Eragon's reaction was already written in the first book, remember? Near the gates of the Varden, Murtagh breaks out all anguished-like that he's Morzan's son, and Eragon freaks out. It's already been said and done; I just popped it in there.
Smiley Smackdown: Who doesn't?