This chapter I'd planned to upload in a few more days but I've decided to give it to you all as a gift for making it to the 1,000 Review mark. I don't think I've ever been happier. But this is also to make up for my last chapter that I felt was very lacking. Anyways, I've put a lot of thought into writing this chapter because it plays out to the entire story one way or another. You know what though? I think my creative writing skills are actually paying off, that course wasn't usless after all. (I'm kidding, I'm actually writing my own book but I've gotten far into it seeing that I'm busy with this story. But it's looking pretty good!) Anyways, enjoy reading this chapter.
Jumping backwards, Eragon twisted as he turned about to bring up his sword to deflect Desdemona's blow to his neck. If he wasn't fast enough she could have done serious harm to him. With a bit of elegant footsteps, Eragon jabbed her in her side watching as she stumbled backwards from the pain of the blow. Feeling Rosalie's presence behind him, he retreated with a jump, but he wasn't quick enough for she brought down her sword and it came into contact with his shins. He winced. Stumbling a bit as he backtracked, Eragon brought his free hand up grab a hold of Finny's arm as he charged towards him and threw the boy ten yards away, watching as he went careening through the ground. And though his fall was serious, he immediately sprung to his feet seconds later.
The sound of metal cutting the air made him turn as he brought up his sword to lock it at the hilt with Rosalie's and Desdemona's swords. For a moment they stood there struggling against one another until Eragon with his supernatural strength pushed them backwards. His achievement was short lived when he felt a bout of pain erupt in the back of his head.
Turning despite the daze he was in, he kicked Finny roughly in the stomach sending him flying backwards fifteen yards. The distraction gave Rosalie and Desdemona the due time to make it back to their feet and spring forward. They were getting better, Eragon thought, as he parried and countered their blows. For the past few days of sparring they were able to hold their own with great success.
Turning to let Rosalie's sword pass through the space in which he once stood, he grimaced in pain when he felt Desdemona's sword slash him across his chest. His heart gave an agonizing beat in his chest. And he saw the familiar tint of red color his vision. Feeling his arm move of its own accord, he watched as he struck down Rosalie with a resounding jut to the gut with his elbow. A pained cry escaped her lips as she fell to her knees.
Stop. Eragon blinked, staring down at Rosalie who coughed slightly a dark liquid covering her lips. He must have broken a rib. Bending down to help her, he grunted when he felt a log smash into the side of his face sending him tumbling into the ground. Sliding for a good ten feet, he blinked when he felt a warm liquid cover the side of his face. A few paces away from him he heard Desdemona berate Finny as she went to help her female companion.
Healing the cut on the side of his head, he moved into a sitting position. Eragon brought up a hand to wipe at the blood coating the side of his face. His heart gave another loud beat in his chest as he beheld the sticky crimson substance. A hand entered his field of vision; he glanced up to find that it was Murtagh.
Unease filled him, though he and Murtagh were both half-brothers, the best they did in each other's presence was breach a polite form of mannerism. He did not know how to act around Murtagh, nor Roran, or Brom for that matter. His strained relationship with them was a foreign matter to him entirely. He didn't pursue to better it like he did with his relationship with Arya, but kept it untouched. For he was sure that if he tried to better things between him and Murtagh or the others in his family, it would only work more to estrange them.
He ignored the hand and stood, dusting himself off before making his way towards his servants. "Why do you always do that?"
Eragon stopped, barely moving five paces before Murtagh spoke. He didn't turn to face his brother but instead remained facing forward. "Do what?"
"Ignore help?"
"It's none of your concerns."
Murtagh gave a snort, "I don't understand it. How come you're allowed to know the concerns of others and yet remain ignorant of help from those around you?"
Eragon turned to face him. What has brought on this sudden confrontation with Murtagh? In his heart, he felt a slight shard of hope. "What are you implying Murtagh?"
"The reason I'm alive is because you saved my life back in Gil'ead. You helped me to escape with Arya and the last egg. And you saved my life again when you came to my rescue in Farthen Dur knowing that it was Durza who was waiting for you." Murtagh said his mouth curved downwards. "And the reason Arya came after me while I was in the Empire was for you."
"Don't waste my time telling me things that I already know and get to the heart of the matter, Murtagh."
"Since you want honesty than I'll be blunt with you, brother," Murtagh said with a set expression. "You've told me that you resent me because I grew up with the love of others and hidden away from Galbatorix and that Brom had overseen me. And I understand that it hurts to know that your father was caring for the son of his enemy. What I don't understand is how you're letting your one chance to be with him slip through your fingers. He isn't getting any younger and fairly, I think you're sinking into hypocrisy."
"What?" Eragon hissed, his eyes narrowing as Murtagh's words floated over to him.
"If my father was half the man that Brom was, I would be happy to love him unconditionally. To know that he was such a man, but my father isn't. My father was Morzan, a traitor to the Dragon Riders, a traitor to Alagaesia. I wish that I could have someone as Brom as my father, but I don't and I accept that fact. But if Brom was my father, I would treasure my time with him above all else." Murtagh said.
Eragon felt his face flush with anger; he had grown to tolerate Murtagh, even like him. Now, he felt as if he was staring into the face of an idiot. "Don't you dare criticize me. You don't have the right to, Murtagh."
"And why can't I?" Murtagh challenged. "I'm your older brother by birth right. What makes it impossible for me not to criticize you?"
He took a step closer to Murtagh, his face set into a scowl. Whatever his brother was trying to do was grating on his nerves. He was not in the mood to tolerate this. "The fact that I always have to watch out for you, your decisions are whimsical and you cause more blunders than achievements. The thing you don't understand is that you are totally helpless to others."
He knew that his statement would anger Murtagh, but he was still surprised when he felt a fist collide with his face sending him stumbling backwards. Almost immediately, his servants who stood by the side watching the ongoing sprang forward their weapons drawn ready to engage Murtagh. Anger flushing his body, he brought his own fist up to land his own blow at Murtagh.
Within a flash, the twelve elves guarding him appeared their own weapons drawn and then it was a stand off between Eragon and Murtagh. "Stand down!"Eragon growled to his servants. They hesitated unsure of his request.
"My lord—"
"Do as I say!" he turned to Murtagh a fierce expression on his face.
Murtagh glanced at his guards with a similar expression of anger. "I can handle this myself! I don't need your protection." When they didn't comply, he growled. "Don't interfere with family matters!"
After a moment they sheathed their weapons and went to stand on the side with Eragon's servants, the two groups ready to jump into help if their assistance was needed. Murtagh turned his head back to Eragon, his face flushed from anger. "I'll show you how helpless I am."
With that he yelled and launched himself at Eragon who stood his ground waiting for his brother to reach him. Dodging a fist to his head, he brought his own up in a right hook, slamming against Murtagh's face knocking his brother sideways. Not relenting, Eragon followed him, slamming his knee into his gut. Before he could do anymore, Murtagh gripped both of his arms and to Eragon's own astonishment slammed his head into his own. Pain erupted in his forehead as he stumbled backwards. Almost immediately Murtagh's own fist came into contact with his jaw sending him sprawling to the ground. "You may be a master at the swords but when it comes to fistfights I've years of experience!"
Eragon scowled as he rolled to the side a little, bringing up his feet to kick Murtagh in the hip, missing as his brother rolled after him, striking him in the gut with his elbow, he grunted. If it weren't for his sturdy body, his ribs would've no doubt cracked. Bringing up his knee, Eragon kneed him in the torso knocking the wind out of him. Gaining the upper hand, he stood on his feet as did Murtagh. Without allowing for him to regain his bearings, Eragon charged ramming him with his right shoulder into the ground.
It was a foolish thing to do, Eragon thought as they wrestled with one another, delivering blows that could easily kill any animal or human if it weren't for their wards or own strengths. It was needed, however. It seemed as if a test between the two of them, to see whether or not they could truly be brothers. To see whether or not they could really move past their differences.
He grunted as Murtagh had abandoned his grace and balance for a more reckless attempt. Eragon frowned meeting him halfway as they lunged for each other, the other refusing to back down. "You idiot! Why do you always complicate things?" Murtagh growled as he dodged a blow to the head from Eragon.
"Idiot? That is rich coming from the boy who barely knew his letters! You have no right to call me an idiot when you look and act like one!" Eragon replied letting out all of his pent up frustration as he dodge Murtagh's own blows. The frustration at having to live with a spirit in his body. Of lying to Arya and Saphira. Or tricking his own mother of his condition. Of asking the inevitable from his servants. Fighting with Murtagh was the only release he found.
"Me? You say you resented Brom when he cared for me in Carvahall. Well you don't see me resenting mother when she abandoned me to care for you in Uru'baen. At least you had her love!" He kicked at Eragon's shin which was already bruised earlier from Rosalie's attack. He grimaced ignoring the pain as he wrapped his arms around Murtagh in a rather vicious headlock.
"How would you feel if you saw her saddened by the life she led? What would you think when you couldn't help your own mother! Tell me, Murtagh!" Eragon tightened his grip on his brother, as if to strangle him which caused the elves to stir in alarm. But before they could act, Murtagh threw him off after a moment of struggling.
"I would've done something! Rather than accept fate I would have fought, even if that meant death!" Eragon felt distaste color his thoughts as he heard Murtagh's words. Always one to act on emotions rather than reason. That was where they were different. "And you, ever since you've joined the Varden you've been as stubborn as a mule refusing our hand. The only person you would ever turn to is Arya and not your own family!"
Eragon's expression darkened as he spun about kicking Murtagh in the head. "Don't you bring her into this," Eragon said panting slightly from the exertions of their reckless attacks and behaviors.
"Why? Does it bother you that I bring in your mate towards our family matters? What will you do, Eragon?" He frowned, anger flashing across his as he ran forward to deliver a hard blow to Murtagh's right shoulder. And again they tumbled to the ground in a flurry of kicks and punches, each trying to gain leverage on the other. Eragon managed to get his feet underneath Murtagh's to kick him mightily in the chest sending him flying upside down over his head as he landed with a thump.
"At least I have Arya by my side." Eragon grunted as Murtagh threw himself atop of him. "I can't say the same for you though."
"Even so, you should still allow us to help you." Murtagh rolled atop of him, gaining the upper hand as he pinned Eragon to the ground, before knocking him squarely in the jaw. "It may not be as much but it will still lighten your burdens! I'm tired of watching my brother at odds with his family. Why can't you reach out to us?"
Eragon frowned, rolling them about until he was hovering over Murtagh, delivering the blows. "What can you do to help me? When you can't even defend yourself? How will you help me? Words do not mean anything not unless you take action upon them."
They rolled again, "Words can help ease your pain. As long as there is sincerity behind them. I would know and I believe you would too if you let us in to help. Brom is always shamed that he couldn't raise you and whenever he tries to breach the gap that his mistake has made, you refuse to let him. Mother is saddened every time she tries to care for you but you never give her the chance to."
Eragon blinked as he let Murtagh's words wash over him. And what about Murtagh he wondered? "I've always wanted family. Growing up in Carvahall as a foster child in Uncle Garrow's home has made it clear to me. And now I can have one with my mother and Brom, and Roran and Katrina, but you refuse to let it happen and I'm sick of it!"
His vision flashed before his eyes when Murtagh landed a particularly heavy blow to the side of his head where Finny had hit him earlier. "I know I'm foolish and naïve but at least I can acknowledge help from others and move past mistakes to forge a better future!" Eragon threw Murtagh off of him and stood, wiping the blood staining his chin as he rubbed his jaw, panting heavily.
He thought the same as well but he had been too fearful to take that step. Past hurts and demons had kept him from moving forward like Murtagh could. Eragon clenched his fist putting all of his pain and anger into it as he moved ran forward, yelling. Murtagh came to meet him, his own fist rising up to meet him. Their hits landed, squarely on each other's jaw sending them off their feet and into the ground. They fell five yards apart from one another, breathing heavily as they tried to regain their breath. Then for a moment a laugh escaped Murtagh, Eragon frowned and turned to his brother. Had he lost his sense? For a brief moment he thought he might have hit him too hard on the head and might have caused him brain damage.
"Have you finally lost your mind?" Eragon asked warily from where he laid.
Murtagh's chuckle was his reply. "Maybe I have. Normally I would never bring this up with you but it has been threatening to make its way out. You're more trouble than anyone I've ever met."
"And you're more foolish than anyone I've ever met," Eragon said. Then he scoffed. "Forge a better future? How cliché of you."
"It was the only phrase that came to my mind at the moment. I apologize for lacking eloquence. I was riled up."
"Shut up and quit being polite," he said as he laid there for a moment. "I know you want to hit me in the face again."
"I do."
"Then that settles it, I also want to hit you once more but after the brawl we've just finished, let's wait for another day to continue," he moved into a sitting position finally feeling the pain of Murtagh's blows. He would have to heal them before they bruised. He heard Murtagh get to his feet and then a hand entered his field of vision. Eragon stared at it for a moment before he sighed and he gripped it allowing Murtagh to help him to his feet. When he stood, he winced feeling his wounds burn.
"It seems as if a crowd has come to watch us," Murtagh said amused as he released Eragon's hand. He looked worse for wear. Where Eragon had struck him, he was already forming light purple bruises. His lip was split and bleeding and there was a cut above his eye. Eragon turned and indeed a crowd had formed but not of warriors but of his family. Arya and Nasuada stood at the forefront their expressions torn between amusement and exasperation. Next to them was his father how was gently supporting his mother on her feet and behind them was Roran and Katrina.
Eragon glanced at his servants and they shrugged, guilty. They had called them to watch. "What made you decide to say those things to me?" Eragon asked curiously as he turned to face his brother.
"A rather wise person," he said his eyes moving towards Nasuada. Surprise flushed Eragon; he didn't suspect that Nasuada was worried over his family affairs. But then again, the Varden was her family and if it was in trouble or in need of mending she would always step in to lend a hand. Eragon snorted before rubbing his chest a little to ease the pain. "You look ridiculous, you know."
He raised a brow at Murtagh, "You've no right to say that when you look as if an Urgal has taken to you." Turning from him he made his way towards his family, hearing Murtagh's footsteps behind him as he followed. When they reached them, Eragon made to bow to Nasuada but the pain in his torso made him wince.
Noticing, Nasuada shook her head, "It's alright Eragon; you're certainly in no state to practice proper politics at the moment." Amusement was on her expression as she gazed at the two of them. "I hope that you've both settled your differences?"
"We did." Eragon and Murtagh murmured as they stood there trying to ease the pain from their body.
"Good, now the both of you can work in conjunction with one another," though she'd tried to play it off as an action in favor of the Varden, he knew that it was for Murtagh's sake that she'd urged him to take action. She truly did feel for his brother Eragon thought.
"Who thought that my brother would be as stubborn as a mule?" Murtagh said as he took in a deep breath that seemed to pain him slightly.
"Me? Stubborn as a mule?" Eragon turned to him, his expression cool. "At least I don't go about acting like a fool." And it was true for the day before he had bumped into Angela who had kept him for a good hour describing Murtagh's actions in healing Elva and how the child was now fear to do what she wanted.
He smiled the split in his lips widening blood dripping down. "I can admit to that folly in my personality. Brothers?"
Eragon stared at his outstretched hand for a moment and all around them, no one moved, breathed, or blinked as they waited for his reaction. He glanced at it for a moment then turned his head away as he took his outstretched hand. "Brothers." He murmured softly.
All around them a collective breath was released. Eragon turned to them raising a brow as if he'd seen them for the first time. Arya stepped forward her hands coming up to ran along his light bruises. Unlike Nasuada, exasperation had won over for her as her emerald eyes took in his appearance. "You look delightfully frightful."
Eragon smiled somewhat wincing at the pain that it caused. Delightfully frightful?
She's right, you know. He turned his head slightly to face Saphira as the dragons bore down on them. Her feelings bordered disapproval and amusement. You look like a person who was tossed like a ragdoll on boulders.
I'm sorry for my poor appearance but my emotions got the best of me, Eragon said as he gazed at her slightly surprised that she didn't intervene. Why didn't you?
Because Thorn had asked that I didn't, his eyes traveled to the ruby dragon. He wanted to help Murtagh ease his relationship with you and it seems that the only way for the two of you to go about doing so is to beat each other senseless. How childish of the both of you.
He grinned at her reaching forward to gently stroke her snout earning an affectionate puff of air from her. His eyes returned to Arya who had healed the bruises on his face while he was busy conversing with Saphira. "It must have been something to see."
"Two dragon riders scrambling on the ground to deliver kicks and blows," her eyes shined with amusement. "It was a sight, I would give you that."
The sound of uneven footsteps made his glance towards his mother who was making her way towards them, her expression set into a stern frown. He knew that look and had often seen if as a child when he was in trouble. Arya released him and with a smile, stepped aside for his mother to approach both him and Murtagh, her lips pursed, her brows furrowed. "Why are all the men in this family idiots?" the question was amusing but her tone was not and for once he could see why his mother could faire so well as Morzan's Black Hand. "Why can't you just settle things without the use of your fists? Was it too much to merely trust in words? No, you had to go rolling around on the ground to prove your point. If I wasn't so far along with child I would've smacked you two senseless by now!"
"Mother, it's not good for you to get angered in your condition," Eragon said as he stared at her.
Her eyes narrowed, "I've been on much more perilous journeys than carrying a child. And because you two are unable to behave yourselves, I must watch to see that you don't end up making a public embarrassment of yourselves. Honestly, what were you thinking?"
"We weren't." Murtagh mumbled, slightly embarrassed but Eragon could see the happiness his mother had invoked within his brother as he waited for her to continue her tirade.
"Selena, maybe you should sit and we can talk about this later," Brom murmured, though Eragon could see a slight smile in his beard.
"Father's right," Surprised, Eragon glanced over at Murtagh who stared at him waiting for him to challenge him yet again. After a moment, he sighed. Brom was by all means his mother's husband so that did make Murtagh his son, by law.
"Yes, father's right," Eragon repeated.
Her mother glanced at him for a moment, as if not believing his easy surrender before she sighed. "You two are both stubborn as mules. It'll take more than merely words to move you, it seems." She gestured to their faces. "Go get cleaned and come to our tent, we're going to have dinner together." Turning she gestured towards Arya and Nasuada. "I hope you two won't mind joining us, you're very much family as is Roran and Katrina and I fear it will take two intelligent females to balance the idiocy of my sons. Maybe Angela was right they are quite…"
Eragon stared after him glancing at Murtagh out of the corner of his eyes, his brother shrugged. Then with a last word to each other made to return to their tents to change and clean themselves, not to mention heal the amounts of bruises that they'd received throughout the brawl. Saphira had left with his mother with a last thought; I'll see you at their tent and do take care not to get into anymore fights. You might actually end up hurting yourself.
When he was alone in his own tent did he finally let the weight of what happened sink in. He had accepted and allowed Murtagh as well as his family past the final barriers that he had built. But it wasn't going to last, he thought, as he stared at his reflection in the basin. He reached up to touch his right eye. When it happened, it would only bring pain to them. He couldn't bear it. Gripping the edge of the table, he blinked when it cracked underneath the pressure of his hands.
What's wrong, Eragon? Are you afraid? He blinked glancing down at the water to find a person staring out at him that looked like him but his eyes were a cold azure and violet. He blinked and only his reflection stared up at him. The time has almost come and soon your soul will be nonexistent.
Eragon closed his eyes for a moment, taking in a deep breath. Whatever happens, happens. There was no changing it and it was pointless to try. Glancing at the basin again he left for his parents' tent to find a table already set up and his family seated all around with the inclusion of Nasuada and his servants as they prepared to eat. Murtagh was already there, sitting on between Brom and Nasuada. The only seat open was to his mother's right directly across his father and next to Arya.
He took it and the conversations around the table seemed to diminish slightly before regaining momentum. His mother had reached forward to set a plate before him that was filled with his favorite food. Blueberry muffins, baked potato dipped in melted cheese, and seasoned green beans. Picking up a fork he began to eat, thanking his mother.
Around him, he heard Murtagh speaking, "Katrina and Roran are to be married tomorrow, mother."
"Oh? That soon?" at the expressions on their faces understanding dawned on her and she nodded. "Who is to marry you?"
"Murtagh," Eragon took a bite of his baked potato as he stared at his cousin in interest. "I thought that there was no one better to do the job in tying mine and Katrina's hands together for life."
"Don't cause a blunder tomorrow," Brom said gruffly despite the smile on his face. Eragon nodded, wholeheartedly agreeing.
"It would be a shame if you did something to ruin a ceremony so beautiful," he stared at Roran before his eyes flitted to Katrina. "Congratulations on your matrimony it seems."
Roran nodded to him at a loss for words while Katrina hesitantly smiled. She was more welcoming than her betrothed Eragon thought. "Thank you…cousin."
He regarded her with surprise for a moment before he turned back to his plate before him. "Are you and Arya to marry?" The question made his stop his fork halfway to his mouth. He glanced at Arya who smiled at Katrina seemingly at ease with her question.
"Elves do not marry, we take one another as mates but due to our long lives, marriage is a practice that we do not hold high in our culture," her eyes turned to Eragon bright and green. "Eragon and I are simply mates."
Katrina nodded politely, before her curiosity seemed to get the better of her, "If it's not rude of me, may I ask how Ellesmera looks like? I've always heard of it and it sounds very beautiful from all accounts."
To his surprise, Arya actually described the forest to Katrina. He had thought she would refuse on grounds that it was too confidential but speaking of her home seemed to put her at ease. As Eragon stared at her he felt a familiar ache in his heart at the thought of relinquishing her and his new found ease with his family.
He didn't want to. Never in his life had he wanted anything as much as to stay by their sides with them and to see them through this war. But time was slipping through his fingers like water. He kept his expression calm but underneath his emotions was like a turbulent thunder storm ready to break through the surface. Life was cruel and unfair. As his eyes moved from his mother to his father and down the table, he felt the pain in his heart deepen as he knew that he would not likely be with them towards the end of the war.
He stopped on Saphira gazing at her from where she laid with Eridor watching them with sparkling eyes. He loved her beyond anything not only because of their bond but because of them time they'd spent together, through think and thin. Leaving her would break her heart but he wouldn't have it any other way, if the spirit consumed his soul then he wished for his servants to see their promise to him through. His eyes drifted to Arya as she sat speaking to Katrina and the others.
Another ache washed over him, he didn't want to leave her either. The pain it would cause her. He closed his eyes for a moment taking in a deep breath, he wouldn't think about it. They were here and he didn't want to upset or worry her with his depressed behavior. Burying the pain deep inside him, he turned listened in on the conversation often times answering when a question was directed at him.
Now, I've prolonged the conflict for too long and I want to see this story take off already. SoI hope you're all ready for some action and violence and drama. And maybe some sadness. (It might invoke tears or not) Anyways, the next few chapters are going to be serious and emotional, so I'm going to take some time on those and proofread them to insanity for my Beta is still out for another week or two.