A Day in the Life of Durza
Drabble #2: In Which there are Spiders
And Arya Has a Lawyer
Disclaimer: We don't own cell phones, spiders, or aspirin. We also don't own Eragon; we're just borrowing the characters so we can play with them. We promise to put them back exactly as they were. Well, minus their sanity, of course.
Authors' Notes: A HUGE thank you to all who reviewed! You really encouraged us to continue! And also a thank you to those who didn't review, but did read the insane-ness that is this ficlet. We hope you all enjoy this chapter as well!
Today was not a good day.
True enough, the sky over the castle was the dark, stormy grey Durza liked it to be. And true enough, the Shade's personal favorite physical feature, his straight blood-red hair, was for once completely cooperating without the use of a single spell to straighten out the one or two locks that always insisted on sticking out at odd angles. Also true was that his breakfast of blood sausage had been cooked perfectly, just the way he liked it. But still, today was not a good day.
Galbatorix had been whining again.
Perhaps whining isn't exactly the correct terminology, Durza reflected as he strode through the corridors of his castle. The corridors were now as well lit as was possible, considering the light was provided by torches and the occasional oil lamp in the shape of some wretchedly sculpted gargoyle. Durza had hired yet another torch-lighter because of the increased activity in the castle due to the rebels in Alegasia and whatnot. After all, Durza didn't want anyone to trip in the dark and smash their head open, as had happened to the previous, and very lazy, torch-lighter—he needed as many soldiers as possible to be intact for the upcoming battle.
No, whining wasn't the word. Ominously and menacingly 'reminding' Durza of the fact that the most powerful and feared Shade in all of Alegasia had failed to find a stupid and defenseless farm boy was a more accurate description. Durza snarled under his breath. The situation was extremely frustrating, and not just because every time Galbatorix 'reminded' him, the king invaded Durza's personal space and breathed on him in such a fashion that the Shade was tempted to remind his king of the value of personal hygiene. It was frustrating because Durza had thought the Ra'zac he had mail-ordered would be more than efficient assassins, but somehow, the boy continued to avoid the creatures' bladed and bug-covered clutches. Actually, was it any wonder? After all, who wanted to be covered in insects? That in itself was probably enough to encourage the boy to fight with everything he had.
Ick. Imagine, bugs in your hair, Durza thought, shuddering and running a pale hand through his blood-red locks. To his intense relief, his hand encountered nothing—wait. What is this? He wondered. A small stick?
His fingers closed talon-like around the object and pulled it free, then brought his hand to his face. He opened his fingers. A skinny, many jointed leg was clutched between his pale fingers. Eight beady eyes stared up at him with a wicked expression.
And then Durza screamed.
The Shade flung the saucer-sized spider away and proceeded to perform that time-honored and perfected tradition of the spider dance, which, as most of us know, consists of a lot of flailing, shaking, and jumping up and down, followed by attempts to levitate away from the evil spider currently staring up at us with badly concealed glee as it runs towards our feet and we spew out profuse amounts of cursing and screaming that increases in direct proportion to how large and fast the spider is.
As it was, the spider was eventually vaporized by a wildly careening fireball Durza threw in its direction. The spider's blackened remains—a few spindly, carbonized legs, nothing more—crouched on the floor smoking sadly as Durza leaned against a stone wall and tried to regain his composure as well as his breath.
I didn't scream, he told himself as he straightened his black and red robes. It was more of a—a yelp, he decided. Yes, a completely appropriate and dignified yelp. Shades don't SCREAM. What a laughable idea! No, no, we YELP.
He glanced down at the spider's smoldering carcass and had to repress a shudder. I had a SPIDER in my hair, he thought. He felt his skin crawl and frantically glanced down to make sure none of the spider's relatives had dropped by for a visit. He was somewhat relived to realize it was just an illusion created by his mind.
"Spiders in my hair…not good…this is not a good day, no, not at all…" he said as he continued down the hallway, carefully skirting the spider legs on the floor, and compulsively combing through his hair with his fingers while muttering about hiring an exterminator.
Now where was I? Durza wondered. Oh yes, Galbatorix whining about the Ra'zac's failure to find that farm boy.
The Shade decided he would have to send some Urgals to help, despite their rather expensive habit of failing to keep track of their equipment. After all, it wasn't like he could pursue the farm boy in person; he was far too busy. And even if he could, he wouldn't; such things were beneath him, and would be yet more evidence for the common peasantry to believe that Galbatorix's hold was slipping. Honestly, the mental image of Durza running after the farm boy like some sort of bloodhound was ridiculous! Now, Galbatorix, on the other hand…
Durza smiled. Honestly, he didn't understand why he wasn't in charge.
But he could contemplate that later. He was a busy Shade, and right now, he had some rather pressing business down in the dungeons that had been delayed for far too long by that—horrible—incident with the spider.
Suddenly, a terrifying thought occurred to him. I hope there aren't any in the dungeon…
XXXXX
A Short Time Later…
Durza's cautious journey down to the dungeons had garnered more than a few looks from various soldiers who obviously thought the Shade had descended yet farther into the depths of demon possessed madness. Durza had fried them. Yes, it left unpleasant greasy black marks on the floors, but he had neither the time nor the patience to deal with the soldiers properly. It was far more efficient to leave them for the maid to mop up.
Now he stood poised over his most current and favorite toy: the elf.
The Shade hadn't managed to extract any useful information from her over the course of their past 'discussions', other than the fact that she loved blueberry syrup on her waffles. Naturally Durza had made sure neither food was available to her, except on the occasion that he would place them both just out of her reach on the other side of the iron bars. The elf didn't seem to care very much. Of course, she had been drugged when she had given him the information, so perhaps the information wasn't as reliable as all that.
Or perhaps it was because she had also been drugged when he left the food out.
But on to other matters.
The elf appeared to be sleeping. 'Appeared' because it was far more likely her unconscious state was due to drugs, spells, exhaustion, or just good acting on her part.
Durza leaned over her, studying her. The elf's skin was unnaturally pale due to her months of confinement below ground, and was an almost porcelain white, except for that one black spot there on her collarbone…
Wait. What?
Durza's pale eyes snapped down to the black spot and grew wide upon recognizing it: a SPIDER!
This one was tiny, no bigger than the head of a pin. Durza stared down at it. The spider stared up at Durza. Durza stared. The spider stared. Two eyes met eight as Durza willed the tiny arachnid to simply disappear.
Instead it simply sat there. Staring.
Durza frowned. He couldn't burn the thing to the crispy consistency of charcoal without also burning the elf's skin, and he wanted her intact. So what was he going to do?
"Shoo!" he said, hesitatingly sweeping his hand toward the spider in a half-hearted gesture. "Shoo! Go away!"
The spider sat.
"Shoo! There's a nice dark, buggy corner over there that would be perfect for a web."
The spider sat.
"It's free! And what a bargain price, considering the price of real-estate these days! Usually costs at least a battalion to sweep the annoying rebels and peasantry off the land."
The spider sat.
"Alright, now look here! Are you deaf? Don't you know who I am? I am the most powerful and feared Shade in all of Alegasia! And you, a tiny, defenseless spider dare defy me?!"
The spider sat, seeming completely unimpressed. Perhaps because it knew the most powerful and feared Shade in all of Alegasia happened to be afraid of getting spiders in his hair.
"Alright then! I'll just have to move you myself!"
The spider sat, staring up at Durza, the expression in all eight of its tiny glinting eyes one of amusement.
"This is your last chance! I'm not warning you again!"
The spider still didn't move, so Durza took a deep breath and, leaning away from the table, elf, and the offending spider, reached out with his thumb and pointer fingers. Slowly he moved towards the spider, secretly hoping it would be frightened by his talon-like black fingernails and skitter away.
And skitter away it did—right down the elf's shirt.
Durza stared, his eye twitching, his hand still hovering over the elf's collarbone.
"Damn it!" he seethed.
Abruptly, Arya's eyes snapped open and she furiously shoved Durza's hand away as she sat up, the very fires of hell seeming to burn in her angry eyes. Durza stared at her, genuinely surprised. He had been sure the restraining spells had been in order—
"SEXUAL HARASSMENT!" Arya screeched at the top of her lungs. "HARASSMENT! ABUSE! RAPE! I demand to see a lawyer! I'm suing your ass back into the abyss!"
"Too late for that, I'm afraid, my dear," Durza replied, too shocked—and busy holding his sickly pale hands over his equally pale ears—to do anything else. Apparently the drugs he had given her had worn off. "Demonic possession is quite permanent, I'm happy to say."
"I'm NOT your 'dear'! Obsessive control freak! HARASSMENT!" she yelled as she jumped off the table and pulled out a cell phone and presumably began speed-dialing a lawyer.
"Now look here! I was trying to help y—Where were you keeping that?" Durza asked in disbelief, eyeing her form-fitting clothing.
"None of your business! PERV!" the elf shrieked at even higher decibels than before.
Durza clutched at his aching head, his ears ringing. He definitely preferred the elf when she was drugged. The Shade had never heard of elves using sound as a weapon, and he ruefully decided he would have to warn his soldiers of the danger. He also decided that he had had enough. With a flick of his wrist his spell hit home and the elf crumpled to the floor, unconscious. Another gesture levitated her back onto the table and restrained her. As soon as he was finished, the spider crawled out of Arya's shirt and resumed its perch on her collarbone.
Back to square one.
Durza eyed the spider. He was surprised it hadn't been crushed. Actually, he somewhat admired the little creature's tenacity and will to survive.
"Fine. You can stay. But you better not be there when I get back!" Durza warned. Then the Shade turned on his heel and left, closing and locking the cell door behind him, and then he went off in search of some aspirin.
Durza doubted the spider would be there when he got back. The elf was only unconscious, not drugged, and she was bound to wake up soon. Then she could have a staring contest with the spider—if the sounds waves from her screaming didn't scare it off or completely obliterate it first.
So the spider got a fair chance at survival, and Arya had a shot at having some sort of entertainment while Durza was off attending to other business, like dealing with the bills the Urgals would inevitably be sending him once they were sent after the farm boy.
Durza shook his head. Damn. I'm going soft. Why do I keep doing good things unintentionally?
Authors' Notes: Hope everyone enjoyed! We have the next chapter written and ready to go once it's edited, and you can expect one more chapter after that. As always, feedback is very much appreciated, so please review and tell us what you thought!