AN- I have just noticed that for the past chapters I have spelt Aryas name wrong. I am so dreadfully sorry and so surprised that nobody picked up on it.

Warning this chapter contains torture scenes at the end. (Why don't I just tell you the entire story?)

Obsidian

Opal woke that morning to an aching back and the smell of wood smoke. While she had no objections to the smell her back made her groan aloud as she sat up. She made a small sound of surprise when she hit her head on one of Alex's wing bones, giving up all hope of maybe getting some more sleep she opened her eyes.

"c'mon 'Lex. Open up" she thumped her fist repeatedly on to her scaly friends stomach until he woke and lifted his wing making her wince as the bright sunlight stabbed her eyes. She staggered slightly as she stood up and walked up to the man crouched by the fire strengthening her mental defenses as she went.

"Any food for the prisoner?" she said bitterly her words drenched in sarcasm. Murtagh did not look up from what he was doing but she saw him smirk.

"Keep talking like that and there wont be," he drawled.

"Ooh are we on to petty threats now?" she sat down to the left of him so that he had to turn to look at her. "Bastard" she muttered sullenly for good measure. The soldier who was standing nearby shot a fearful glance at Murtagh before thrusting a hunk of bread into her hands and getting on with packing up the campsite.

When Murtagh had finished eating he stood and faced her. Turning her trick back in Opals face by making her look up into the sun to face him.

"You will ride behind Fanroc. Your Dragon will walk behind. We will reach Uru'baen in three days," there was no suggestions or questions in his voice; he just stated it as if nobody had any say in the matter.

"Very well Sir" the Soldier, Fanroc said from behind her. No, she thought there is no "as if" what he says is what will happen.

"You say jump and I suppose you expect me to say 'how high?'?" she said squinting at him through the bright sunlight.

"How high sir" he smiled down at her, it was an almost snake like smirk, he held out his hand to help her up, she ignored it clambering off the floor in an ungainly manner instead.

"Why must I walk? It would be faster if I could fly" Alex asked, irritated at being ignored for so long. Opal passed along the question.

"There is a chance that you may escape, although it is very small, you are no match for Thorn, but still I cannot allow such a risk to be taken. For now you walk." He stated matter of factly no emotion in his voice. Opal did not know why she picked up on this but she had no time to ponder it as Fanroc called her to his horse.

The sun was well past its zenith when she next spoke, her tongue still had trouble pronouncing the harsher language that most humans spoke so when the man in front of her did not answer immediately she thought that he had not understood. So she repeated the question.

"Why do you fear Murtagh?" she saw out of the corner of her eye the said man straighten a little in his saddle, she could tell he was listening.

"He can be…. Temperamental at times. His own fear of the king and for his life affects his moods, some times even the smallest thing can make him snap." Fanroc's voice was lowered and his careful prunuciation of the words said that he was choosing them well lest Murtagh over hear what he said and take offense. "He would perhaps be easier to be around if he didn't hide his emotions so damn well. Scuse the language miss."

"Thank you it doesn't matter. My name is Opal, Fanroc by the way not 'miss' " she sat back, contemplating what he had told her.

"How come you did not know this? Tis well known about nowadays" Opal was surprised when the gruff soldier in front attempted to start a conversation.

"I have had…. a sheltered education. Era- my teacher told me a little about Murtagh and none of it was how others saw him. I want to asses how far I can push him." The last sentence was said with mischief in her voice, the type that she had gained after Alex was old enough to cause such.

"I would not suggest such misadventure miss-I mean Opal, it would cause nothing but trouble" he twisted round in the saddle to face her, his face serious.

"Aye, you would quickly find your self incapable of such childish foolery. Asses that child" Murtagh backed up proving that he had heard the entire conversation.

"When it comes to insults child is one of the worst, a mere observation of age rather than a direct hit at a certain trait that the person it is aimed at would take offence at, which traitor is what an insult is" she shot a glare at him, irritated at him butting in and stopping the conversation. Only for her eyes to widen when she saw the expression on his face.

"I do not know what my brother has told you." He brought his horse parallel to Fanroc's and lent down so that his eyes were level with hers. "I am as traitorous as you will be, bound in the chains of your own words that were forced out your mouth with a heated iron rod. You will not speak for the rest of the journey" his words were hissed, bitter and full of loathing, for what Opal could not guess. He urged his horse forwards till he was in front again, snapping words in the ancient language as he did so.

Opal felt a strange pressure descend on her; her vision began to cloud, her hearing buzzed before she collapsed against Fanroc unconscious

Murtagh was disturbed. He had just witnessed a full-grown soldier admit to being afraid of him and than knocked out a young girl, a child. He thought of what would await the girl if she did not let Galbatorix in to her mind immediately and shuddered. Oh how he wished that the king had given the job of capturing her to somebody else! The guilt that had crashed down upon his shoulders when he discovered she was so young was almost crushing him for he knew the moment she had thrown that sarcastic remark at him that she would not back down without a fight.

His hand reached up to his left his left shoulder thinking of the brand mark he had been given when he had been presented before the king, it was the one scar he still had from his torture in those dungeons. A thick knotted G in a circle, symbolizing how the bearer of that branding is a slave to the king. It was given to him before he had submitted, showing how the king knew that he would break you. Maybe it was one of the reasons why he broke?

Murtagh shook his head to try to clear it of such thoughts; it would not do for Fanroc to see him like that.

There was light, she knew it was light but she could not think of its name. In fact she could not think of any word. The way her mind worked had been changed to that of an animal. She knew what things were and she had coherent thoughts, just not with a language. She had heard about the drug given to prisoners of the empire to suppress there knowledge of the ancient language from Eragon, this meant that she had no Mother tongue to speak therefore could not think with words. For the first time Opal knew what under-thoughts were.

The light flickered slightly; it was dim as if it were from a flame. She felt something cold and heavy wrap around her wrists and ankles clinking when she shifted slightly. Her eyes flicked open when she heard voices, she knew those words, but for the life of her could not place a meaning to them.

Two men in uniform held her arms, one on each side with her feet trailing along the floor. Another Guard opened a cell door, she was dragged inside and lain face down on a table, the chains on each limb were fixed to each corner so that she was stretched out. She heard footsteps. A soldier bent down and began to turn a handle, with a creaking noise the table was cranked up so that she was vertical.

"Well, it seems that the next great dragon rider, the second "hope of the Varden is still a chit of a girl, good for nothing but to grow into a farmers wife" the voice was slick, cold and male. She understood the words and there meaning but they soon slipped from her grasp. She felt a small pressure run down both sides of her torso and across her shoulders, she gasped in shock and the chill air of the dungeons hit her bare back when the back of her jerkin fell away.

"You are a sparrow among falcons my dear, you will now give me entrance to your mind whether it is willing or not I have no care…" she felt an achingly cold piece of metal press against her left shoulder as she prepared her mental defenses, walls were built around both her real mind and fake one. Placing traps of hidden pent up emotion to attack any intruder here and there. She felt the cold on her shoulder fade slowly she relaxed slightly, only to tense as it was replaced by a growing heat.

"Now I'll give you on chance to give me access, if you do than this will be painless and an easy transaction from free rider to slave. If not than you will either die of pain or give in. this is your choice." The metal was getting rather hot now; in fact it was very hot, burning. She gritted her teeth as the heat was coupled with a sudden attack on her defenses. A battering ram of power slammed against her shields. Pain washed through her head making her give off a muffled scream.

"I take that as a "no" than my sweet" he hissed in her ear, his clammy breath brushed against her neck making her shiver. The attack resumed and the skin of her shoulder was hissing from the red hot metal.

Her screams were no longer muffled.

After what seemed like hours the brand was removed and the attack stopped. She fell slack against her bonds, not even noticing that she had tensed.

"I seems such a pity to mar such pretty skin," a cold hand slid up her back "but without my signature brand how would anyone know you belong to me? Hmm. I do hope you'll forgive me for it one day. Now I wonder what I should do next to break you? Yes Shurikan, I do believe it has been a long time since I heard the kiss of leather rend innocent flesh, to long I would say"

The chilling screams and heart gripping wails echoed throughout the dungeons as the barbed whip bit mercilessly through her soft, young skin. Tearing through muscle and ripping through flesh. Pain licked up her back with each strike, flecks of blood flew through the air splattering on the walls and floor.

Her head lolled on her shoulders and her jaw clenched with each mental attack. A voice in her head told her that she should give in, let him in your false mind…. But the other voice, the smarter calculating one say not to he would only think you were weak, he would only make it worse….

Spots began to dance about her vision black mixed with white as the metal hooks in the leather bit deeper exposing bone. She screamed louder only for her voice to crack; her throat raw, tears ran down her face and dripped off her chin. The blows came faster and faster, the seat of her trousers was black from the crimson liquid that ran down from the weeping wounds. The ends of her long hair were crushed into clotting blood causing her more pain whenever she moved her head.

Her head hurt, her nose ran like a tap from the pressure of the constant mental invasion and she could feel herself slipping away, her shoulders strained as she fell limp, she thrashed against her bindings as the whip cut her branding, there was a pop and pain flared throughout her entire left side as her arm dislocated. Her vision flared white for a moment before she sunk in to painless sweet obsidian darkness.

I am very sorry this was late, I had typists block (writers block but on computer) ill try to get it on time next week.

Please review. They make me update faster.