Hi! I don't own anything but Tania and Ophelia, thank you very much.
Edit: Um… yeah… double-post again… you should enjoy this chapter though, I think. Especially all you Murtagh fans. *wink*
Tania awoke to the sound of soft voices. She frowned slightly, trying to remember why she had been unconscious in the first place. The waterfall, the dwarf, and then the face—
Even the memory of those cold, cruel eyes caused her to jerk in fear. Her eyes snapped open, wide and terrified, flitting over her surroundings.
"Tania!" Eragon stood from where he had been sitting and darted over. "Are you alright?"
Tania stared at him a moment, wide-eyed, before she relaxed, recognizing him. "I… I'm fine," she croaked. "What happened?"
"You went berserk," Murtagh stated flatly. "I think we should be asking you what happened."
She closed her eyes tightly, leaning back against Saphira's scales—she had been in-between the dragon's outstretched forelegs. "I don't know… I think—I think the bald man reminded me of someone. I panicked."
Eragon's eyebrows shot up in surprise. "You? You panicked?" He crossed his arms. "I find it hard to believe that you, of all people, can panic."
Tania glared at him. "If anything, I've panicked more than you have." She wrapped her arms around her legs, resting her chin on her knees and turning her glare on the wall. "It's not something I'm proud of, but it's part of my nature. Everyone panics. Some just know how to hide it."
Is that really something you should say to someone you don't entirely trust? Saphira asked cynically.
It is when I'm trying to trust you more, Tania answered. She noticed Murtagh leaning against the far wall in a similar position to her own, watching her, his gray eyes never moving from her own green ones. Tania gazed back steadily.
She turned to Eragon when he started to speak. "Murtagh, you were going to say something?"
The other man started. "Hm? Oh…" He took a deep breath. "Right." He took another deep breath, letting it out in a whoosh of air. "I—I don't want to stop… so make yourself comfortable. My story will take a while." Tania tilted her head curiously, settling against Saphira's chest.
Murtagh's first sentence was halting, but his voice gained strength and confidence as he spoke. "As far as I know… I am the only child of the Thirteen Servants, or the Forsworn as they're called. There may be others, for the Thirteen had the skill to hide whatever they wanted, but I doubt it, for reasons I'll explain later.
"My parents met in a small village—I never learned where—while my father was traveling on the king's business. Morzan showed my mother some small kindness, no doubt a ploy to gain her confidence, and when he left, she accompanied him. They traveled together for a time, and as is the nature of these things, she fell deeply in love with him. Morzan was delighted to discover this not only because it gave him numerous opportunities to torment her but also because he recognized the advantage of having a servant who wouldn't betray him.
"Thus, when Morzan returned to Galbatorix's court, my mother became the tool he relied upon most. He used her to carry his secret messages, and he taught her rudimentary magic, which helped her remain undiscovered and, on occasion, extract information from people. He did his best to protect her from the rest of the Thirteen—not out of any feelings for her, but because they would have used her against him, given the chance… For three years things proceeded in this manner, until my mother became pregnant."
Murtagh paused a moment, fingering a lock of his hair. He continued in a clipped tone, "My father was, if nothing else, a cunning man. He knew that the pregnancy put both him and my mother in danger, not to mention the baby—that is, me. So, in the dead of night, he spirited her away from the palace and took her to his castle. Once there, he laid down powerful spells that prevented anyone from entering his estate except for a few chosen servants. In this way the pregnancy was kept secret from everyone but Galbatorix.
"Galbatorix knew the intimate details of the Thirteen's lives: their plots, their fights—and most importantly—their thoughts. He enjoyed watching them battle each other and often helped one or the other for his own amusement. But for some reason he never revealed my existence.
"I was born in due time and given to a wet nurse so my mother could return to Morzan's side. She had no choice in the matter. Morzan allowed her to visit me every few months, but otherwise we were kept apart. Another three years passed like this, during which time he gave me the… the scar on my back." Murtagh brooded a minute before continuing.
"I would have grown to manhood in this fashion if Morzan hadn't been summoned away to hunt for Saphira's egg. As soon as he departed, my mother, who had been left behind, vanished. No one knows where she went, or why. The king tried to hunt her down, but his men couldn't find her trail—no doubt because of Morzan's training.
"At the time of my birth, only five of the Thirteen were still alive. By the time Morzan left, that number had been reduced to three; when he finally faced Brom in Gil'ead, he was the only one left. The Forsworn died through various means: suicide, ambush, overuse of magic… but it was mostly the work of the Varden. I'm told the king was in a terrible rage because of his losses.
"However, before word of Morzan's and the others' deaths reached us, my mother returned. Many months had passed since she had disappeared. Her health was poor, as if she had suffered a great illness, and she grew steadily worse. Within a fortnight, she died."
"What was her name?" Tania asked softly.
Murtagh gave her a narrow look. "Why should I tell you?"
She shrugged. "Mine was Eve."
He studied her cautiously. "Selena."
She heard a sharp intake of breath from Eragon. "…what?" His expression was shocked. He looked at her. Did you know that?
No.
But—you know that—
Yes, I do, now tell him already. She scowled at him. Or do you want me to?
No, I'll… She saw Eragon take a deep breath. "That was my mother's name as well."
Murtagh blinked. "What do you mean?"
"My mother was Selena. My uncle is Garrow and my cousin is Roran. I… guess that means Morzan was my father as well."
Tania butted in. "From what you said, when she disappeared, that was probably enough time for her to give birth to Eragon in Carvahall."
She could see that Murtagh was speechless, and felt Saphira shift against her back. You do realize that that isn't true, Tania?
Of course. But Brom did ask me not to say.
Did Ophelia—
Yes, she did. He made sure there were no loopholes. I don't see why he wanted it kept secret anyway.
He wanted to protect him, Saphira said simply.
I can understand that. But it just made things extremely difficult here.
True.
Dragging herself back to the present, she saw Murtagh shaking with laughter. "You speak the truth?" he finally asked.
Eragon frowned at him. "Iet máthair er Selena." Murtagh raised his eyebrows. Tania chuckled. "You can't argue with the Ancient Language, my friend," she told him. He wrinkled his nose at her, but smiled gratefully.
Tania reached over and poked Eragon's arm. "And now you both finally have something you can relate to—literally," she grinned. Eragon snorted.
…wow. I did not see that coming. Did you?
Hey, at least Tag didn't get all angsty like he did in the book. That made me depressed, so here is some fluff for you. *stretches* Please leave a review!
FF