I Who Should Not Be
Chapter 21
Murtagh's eyes followed Onika as the Wolfborn was greeted by Orik, Eragon's foster brother and the 'new' king of his people. The dwarf seemed to like the tall woman, and she seemed interested in the dwarf in turn.
What he didn't like was how all the men, human and otherwise, were watching Onika. She had, at Arya's behest, donned a pair of warm brown breeches and a loose fitting green and brown shirt. The elf, it occurred to Murtagh as Arya carefully watched the men that had gathered, had done what she could to hide Onika from the eyes of those who may be effected by her. Even Eragon seemed to be slightly thrown off by the Wolfborn, for whenever she came too close, the younger Rider's eyes would unfocus and he was shaking his head slightly for a few minutes after she had passed. This he found amusing, but not for very long.
He wandered away to where Arya sat with Eragon, a sheet of paper and a box on Arya's lap. When he sat, the two smiled and slipped the paper and box out of his line of sight. When Mrtagh went to question his brother on the items, the Rider shook his head and smiled.
"You have a question in your eyes, Murtagh."
As always, Arya didn't bother with beating around the bush. I was about to ask her to walk a little with me to talk to her in private when two people showed up. The first was Orik, who saw the box Eragon held and grinned. The second came soon after. I didn't even have to look over my shoulder to know who it was.
Onika lowered herself into the seat to Murtagh's right, resting her left hand on the low table close to his arm. Her right arm, wrapped in fresh bandages, was kept low and out of sight. She had discovered that while most of the children around were merely curious about her wound, it frightened others. Murtagh tried to breathe as little as possible and to look anywhere but at Onika. He thought of the things that he had done while under the mad king's power, but then he would inhale and…
Well, he had to admit, it was a valiant effort.
Eragon thanked all the gods and all the magic of the elves for the barrier that was around him and Orik. Sure, the pretty Wolfborn still smelled like something you wanted to snatch up and run for the woods with, but it was easier to resist now. Orik's smile grew more broad as he held out his hand for the box.
"Mine brother told me about what happened to you on the way here, Onika Argetlam. When he said that you didn't want him to reattach it, I could sympathize. But, it is easier to fight with two hand rather than just one. Arya gave me the measurements…"
He held the box out to the Wolfborn, who took it carefully, using her maimed arm to balance the surprisingly heavy box.
"Open it."
Onika looked at everybody in turn, then slowly lifted the lid. Inside the plain pine box was a satin cushion upon which rested a framework of steel, a dark grey metal that she didn't know and a similarly unfamiliar metal that shone bright silver.
"What is it?"
"Why, it's an arm! And a hand!"
Onika lifted the object out of it's home and carefully placed it on the stump of her arm. It would fit perfectly. Orik rose quickly.
"I will fetch somebody to put it on for you. Then you – what are you doing?"
Onika had yanked off her bandages with her teeth and bit herself seven times, letting blood run over the device then putting it to the wound, shutting her eyes.
As they watched, Onika's real flesh, Eragon and Arya could identify veins and nerves that wound up along the framework along with the fibrous muscle and the dark tan skin. It was both fascinating and horrible to watch as her living flesh grew and enveloped the new framework. When she had finished, there were even small silvery fingernails at the tips of her new fingers.
"I thought that was against your teachings…"
Onika smiled at the elf and flexed her new fingers, pleased with her painful task.
"It is a sin to wake the dead, but it is not a sin to wake the living flesh to grow and live again."
She smiled at Orik and bowed her head. Murtagh took the new hand in his and studied it for a moment before speaking.
"It's beautiful."
"What are you talking about boy? The hand I made, or it's owner?"
Murtagh flushed red and dropped her hand, choosing instead to stare at the table before asking Arya if hr could speak to her alone for a moment. Once Onika had left with Eragon and Orik, the dark haired man let out a sigh of both relief and irritation. His predicament came out in a wave of words that he had no power to stop, and by the time he finished talking, Arya was wearing her cool emotionless mask.
"Can you help me either create a barrier against her or something? She's very distracting…"
"So… you're interested in mating her."
"I just said that."
The elf sighed and pushed back a strand of hair. Her eyes flashed in warning before she spoke in a low tone.
"Do not pursue her lightly, Murtagh. To the Wolfborn, if you mate, you mate for life. No ifs, ands or buts. In their mate dies, they may take a new mate, though many do not. Theirs is a very devoted bond. Could you handle that? She would feel it to be well within her rights to chase off any female who may be a threat to her. This includes Nasuada. Even I would not be exempt, even though I have the honor of being called her friend."
Murtagh thought for a moment, and Arya rose.
"I am going to play with the children. I promised that I would teach them to skip rope, and Onika wanted to learn as well. We will be around, should you come to a decision."
Murtagh rose and followed after the elfwoman soon after. As he watched Arya instruct the children, then Onika, how to play different games, he pondered his travels with Onika. She was always there, and she had always been very honest and open with him…
Could he handle being her mate and hers only?
He smiled as she took her turn jumping over the two spinning ropes, her face shining with pleasure as Arya chanted the simple song that kept the beat. When she stumbled and the rope hit her feet, she laughed and smiled toward Murtagh, who waved.
Yes, he could.