Torn Between Two
Shoe: I just want to say THANK YOU for all the comments!! They really keep me going! I look forward to more!! On a side note, this chapter is kinda long...sorry...Murtagh is troubled, which may be a sorry excuse for his bad behavior, but well...bad is all he knows.
Chapter 22
Murtagh sat in his room, staring at the unconscious red-head, with the previous conversation he had with his father running through his mind. After his seal had been removed and he could talk with Thorn, his father gave him his orders. Murtagh was to watch both teens like a hawk, he was to share his room with them, and he was to train them. Only Murtagh was allowed to carry out this task. His father would help with the training, but most of it was left to Murtagh.
"You still don't remember Reilyn fully, do you boy?" Father had asked.
"No sir, I don't."
"You were in love with that brat ever since we brought her here," Father had laughed loudly. "Still are, I'm guessing."
"Well. . ." Murtagh had whispered.
"Eragon too, I presume," his father had growled.
"Yes. . .sir."
"Mmm," the man grumbled. "As long as there's a female, I don't care who else you sleep with!" he had snapped at his son. "Now, go back to your room."
Murtagh had obeyed his father and retreated to his room. Eragon sat across the room, in a corner, and glared at him. The hate in the young, caramel eyes hurt Murtagh's heart. He longed to kiss the boy and try to smooth things over between them, but he knew better.
"Come on," he ordered, getting up and walking to the bathroom that was attached to his room. A hot bath was waiting for him, but he didn't trust Eragon alone in the room.
"What? Why?" the brunette snapped, not moving.
"Because," Murtagh barked, "I'm not sure I can trust that you won't try to run while I'm in the bath."
Eragon's eyes moved between Murtagh and Reilyn, contemplating.
"She'll stay unconscious for a while," Murtagh growled, locking his bedroom door, just in case. "Now, get you ass in there!"
The harsh tone didn't make Eragon flinch, as it would have before, the younger man was too angry. He stalked to the bathroom, followed by Murtagh, and positioned himself in the corner farthest from the bath. He stared at the floor, avoiding all eye contact with the raven haired elder.
Murtagh wasn't thrilled at how he had to treat the Blue Rider, but if it didn't hurt Eragon as much as eh thought it would, he wasn't going to let up.
Eragon needs to know that I have greater power than he does. . .
He stripped his filthy clothes off and stepped into the water, sighing as the hot water hit his skin. He sank down, letting the water go up to his neck, and closed his eyes, smiling. The water was working on his sore body, loosening muscles and cleaning his skin. He slid beneath the surface, scrubbing his scalp and face with his hands, then reemerged and shook his head to rid the excess water. Wiping the water from his eyes, he looked at Eragon, who was still in the corner and glaring.
Trying to ignore the pain in his heart, he grabbed the scrap of cloth and a soap bar and slowly started washing his body. He began with his feet, moving up his legs, then scrubbed the dirt from his chest and stomach.
"I hate you," Eragon snarled as Murtagh began washing his arms.
"Love you too," he laughed, continuing his bath.
"I mean it! I hate you!"
"I've heard that before from you, Eragon," he grumbled, moving to the other arm. "Or have you forgotten?"
"You keep betraying me!"
"I have had no choice," Murtagh snapped, scrubbing his neck and then his back. "As I've told you!"
"You're nothing more than a liar, thief, and murderer!" the brunette barked, choking on his tears.
"And yet you love me," Murtagh said emotionlessly.
"No! Not after this!"
"You've always been a bad liar, Eragon," he smiled, rubbing the soap in his hair. "Not a week ago, you missed me."
Eragon fell silent and looked away from Murtagh. Murtagh dipped under the water, rinsing his body, face and hair, then stood up and got out of the tub. He dried off with a larger piece of fabric and wrapped it around his waist, securing it firmly.
"Eragon," he motioned for the boy to follow.
The brunette teen walked after Murtagh and sat on the bed, near Reilyn, while Murtagh changed. The pale teen quickly dropped the towel and pulled on a pair of thin shorts, then a pair of black leather pants. He turned, fastening the belt, and made eye contact with Eragon. When the young boy snarled and looked away, Murtagh felt what little patience he had snap.
"I can't help the fact that we met, Eragon!" he growled, closing in on the young one. He grabbed the boy by the back of the neck, roughly pulling his face close. "I can't stop my heart from loving you! God knows sometimes I wish I could, so it wouldn't hurt so damn much, but I can't! And I can't reverse the fact that I'm also torn between two people, both of which hate me more than anything right now!"
Murtagh released the boy and stalked to the window, looking at the moon washed grounds. His chest heaved and his heart beat like a drum, his whole body shaking violently from the torrent of emotions flowing through him. He leaned against the stone wall, crossing his arms over his pale, bare chest, and closed his eyes.
Arms around his waist made him jump almost out of his skin, when he glanced back he saw Eragon. Rolling his eyes, he huffed and didn't allow himself to relax into the young teen. He clenched his jaw as the brunette moved closer and he flinched when the boy kissed the back of his neck and shoulders.
"Murtagh," Eragon breathed, making the pale boy shiver. "I still love you. . .No matter what you do or I say, I'll always love you." Eragon kissed his neck, shoulders, his back and traced the scars on his strong torso, then he kissed the scar that ran Murtagh's back.
Murtagh felt himself giving in to the teen, his body relaxed and his eyes were slipping shut. He snapped back and broke away from the boy, trying to compose himself. He spun on Eragon, moving close to his face, and stared into the terrified caramel eyes.
"Go to sleep, Eragon," he growled, resisting the desire to kiss the boy. "We have a long day ahead of us."
Hurt swelled in the young eyes and the brunette looked away. Murtagh turned back to the window, re-crossing his arms, and stood rigidly. He watched the reflection in the window, seeing Eragon crawl into the huge bed and cover himself and Reilyn before curling close to the girl. Murtagh's heart felt like dying when the young one cast one last, longing look at him before closing his caramel eyes.
How can you still love me? After all I've done? I'm so detached, afraid to get close, so dark, so cruel, so scarred. . .he thought, staring at the twinkling stars through the window.
You forget, Thorn rumbled, that you're caring, loving and for the most part, gentle with that boy. You just take more caution in guarding your heart, your feelings. . .Too much has happened to you for you to trust willingly.
Murtagh cried silently at the truth his dragon spoke, sinking to his knees. He turned and rested his back on the cool stones, staring at the two sleeping close on his bed.
I want what they have, he sent Thorn the image. The closeness, the love, the trust
What they have is not perfect or complete, Murtagh. Do you fully believe Reilyn trusts him completely? She tells no one of her past and has a hard time letting Eragon close to her. . .the ruby beast said quietly.
She's just like me, isn't she?
In more ways than you know, Thorn said. Now, get some sleep. As you told Eragon, you have a long day ahead of you.
Goodnight, Thorn, he whispered, getting up.
Goodnight, Murtagh. Sleep well.
Murtagh went to a large chair next to the bed, trying to keep his eyes of his bed and its contents, and leaned back into it. He drifted off just as soon as he closed his hazel eyes.
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A knock on the wooden door woke Murtagh.
"Sir Murtagh?" a female voice called quietly.
"Yes, I'm coming," he grumbled.
He slowly pulled himself from the chair, wincing as his stiff muscles screamed protest. He rubbed the sleep from his eyes and stretched, running a hand through his raven hair. Unlocking the door, he leaned against the frame, massaging his neck.
"Yes?" he mumbled to the woman servant.
Next time, I get the damn bed. . .Whether they're in it or not. . .
"These are for. . .our, ummm. . .guests," she whispered, bowing and blushing at the sight of Murtagh's bare torso. She extended two bundles of clothes, one black and one tan, avoiding looking at the pale teen.
"Thank you," he said, taking the clothes. "Anything else?"
"Just that your father, Sir Morzan, wants to remind you to train them today," the woman whispered, bowing again.
"Tell him I haven't forgotten," he waved his free hand at her. "Dismissed."
"Sir Murtagh," she said before skittering off.
Murtagh shut and locked the door again, then tossed the clothes at the foot of the bed as he made his way to the bathroom. The sun was just peeking above the mountains and filtered into the window, lighting his dark room on fire. He allowed himself a few moments to watch the sleeping teens, the black and blood red blankets pulled up close and their arms over each other.
He growled and stalked to the bathroom, leaving the door open so he could know if something was happening. He relieved himself and rinsed his hands in the basin dedicated to just that. Then he moved to the other basin, the wash basin, and splashed the cool water on his face and neck, then his chest and shoulders. He shook excess water from his fingers and dried his face with a towel, walking back to his room.
Murtagh moved to his wardrobe and looked through the clothes aimlessly, pushing sleeping clothes aside, in search of training clothes. At least shirts, he already had the pants. All the shirts and vests were alike: leather, black, and the vests all had buckles. He pulled a shirt and vest from the closet, latching the doors behind him. A noise behind him caught his attention and he tried to turn, but the feel of his own dagger on his throat stopped him.
"I knew I should have put that somewhere else," he said, smirking. The clothes fell from his hands.
"Quiet you bastard!"
"Reilyn?" he laughed. "I must admit, I expected Eragon."
"I said silence!" she growled into his ear, pressing the sharp edge harder on his skin.
"As you wish," Murtagh whispered.
"Why are we-?" she was cut off when Murtagh pulled her hands away from him.
He spun and pinned her to the wardrobe, lifting her off her feet. Their bodies were pressed close together and he used his legs to pin hers when she tried to kick him, putting them tantalizing closer.
"You bastard!" she barked, struggling.
"So I've been told," he laughed, moving his face close to hers. He released her just enough to have her feet back on the floor, then put his hands on the doors, just on either side of her face, blocking her in.
"Were you planning on trying to kill me?" he asked, his face now inches from hers.
The girl stared at him, growling violently in disgust.
"Well?" he asked, lacing his hands in her long hair and moving her even closer. "Were you?"
Now, the girl rose her unpinned hands and shoved on his bare chest, turning her face from his. Murtagh smiled and merely moved his mouth to her ear. Reilyn growled loudly and shoved harder, trying to escape him.
"Were you?" he growled, lips brushing her ear.
She whimpered and tried to shrink away from the pale Rider, but he only moved closer, leaving virtually no space between the two. His heart pounded and he felt horrid for doing this to her, but he didn't want to risk his father's rage by going easy on the girl.
"God dammit!" she breathed, struggling again.
Murtagh fought hard with the animal in him, denying himself the pleasure of giving in and kissing her again.
"Just tell me!" he whispered harshly, moving his mouth from ear to her neck. He was slowly losing the battle with himself.
"Not trying!" she said through clenched teeth.
He felt her turning her head and pulled back, thanking her silently, but still kept his face close.
"So you meant to kill me? Then why stall and ask questions?"
"I don't know!" she barked, hands stopped shoving on his chest and merely rested on him.
Temptation broke in him and he leaned in, grazing her lips with his, and he held her head still. He pressed against her mouth, but didn't ask or try to deepen the kiss, she wasn't resisting too much. . .but she didn't return the kiss either.
Murtagh! Thorn roared. Control yourself!
He pulled back, stunned that he kept losing the battle within himself, and looked into her eyes.
"I'm sorry," he whispered. "I don't know what came over me."
Reilyn shoved his away, he let her, and he collapsed into the wardrobe, punching the wooden doors hard enough to split his knuckles open.
Why is it only with her that I can't control my damn body?! I have trouble with Eragon, but always manage to resist. . .Dammit!
"Fresh clothes are on the foot of the bed," he muttered, "you can change in the bathroom, but leave the door unlocked."
Murtagh didn't look up, but listened to her move to the bed, then the door on the bathroom shut. He dressed quickly, fumbling with the vest belts and threw himself face down on his bed, far from Eragon.