A/N: Okay, so, this chapter isn't really a songfic, the song at the top is just the theme song for this chapter.
Okay, I got this review from , I have already explained it to her through a PM but I thought I would just clear it up for anyone else who was wondering. Here's the review:
"A young, black haired boy with piercing blue eyes scrambled up onto her knee.
"Mummy, tell me a story!" he cried as his father smiled fondly at them both,
standing by the fireplace.
Now I have to say that until this line I thought I knew where this was going.
And if I ignore this line, I see things just fine... BUT this line confounds
me all by itself.
A young, black haired boy with piercing blue eyes?
Makes me wonder... I wish I knew what you intended by this part."
I just have to stress that the father was Eragon - NOT Murtagh! I know Eragon's eyes are brown in the book, but just put this down to creative license. I always imagine his eyes as blue because his magic is blue and Saphira is blue, just like Arya's eyes are green, her magic is green, and I think the green egg will hatch for her in book 4! The child was intended to be part Eragon and part Arya. Arya's black hair, and Eragon's blue eyes. Hope this cleared everything up for you!
Thanks to Majide Bunny for the Story Alert!
Pie in the Face: Yes the song was from Eragon the crappy movie, but unlike the movie, I think this song really fits the story, don't you? And thankyou, thankyou very much!
Now I think that's all the thankyou's! After this long and highly boring Author's Note, I must say, ON WITH THE STORY!
What I've Done – Linkin Park
In this farewell
There's no blood
There's no alibi
'Cause I've drawn regret
From the truth
Of a thousand lies
So let mercy come
And wash away
What I've done
I'll face myself
To cross out what I've become
Erase myself
And let go of what I've done
Put to rest
What you thought of me
While I clean this slate
With the hands of uncertainty
So let mercy come
And wash away
What I've done
I'll face myself
To cross out what I've become
Erase myself
And let go of what I've done
For what I've done
I start again
And whatever pain may come
Today this ends
I'm forgiving what I've done
I'll face myself
To cross out what I've become
Erase myself
And let go of what I've done
What I've done
Forgiving what I've done
"I am not evil!" cried Murtagh. "How can I change my true name without becoming that which you fight against? Please, brother, if you have some solution to my dilemma, reveal it. I would gladly join you if I could – you are the only person I have met that did not hold my – our – fathers name against me, and I truly enjoyed our companionship. You were my... friend..."
"Murtagh, changing your name does not have to involve you embracing Galbatorix's orders. You must change your perspective on life." Eragon replied.
"But how?"
"Many things can do this, like falling in love..."
"Arghhh!" Murtagh interrupted him. "He has discovered I am missing. Galbatorix calls for me, I must go!" Before climbing on Thorn, the Red Rider turned and vowed in the Ancient Language, "I will change my name, little brother, for you."
He secured himself to his red dragon and they flew in the direction of Uru'baen.
Murtagh?
Yes, Thorn?
Why do you put us at risk by meeting with the two-legs-pointy-eared one?
Because, we need his help to be freed from Galbatorix's clutches.
But why? Why do we not stay with the King? He would not hurt us so if you did what he asked.
But what he asks of us is wrong!
...wrong?
Murtagh sighed. For all Thorn's size, he was still a child inside and did not understand complex matters like morals. Look what he has done to you Thorn... You are but a hatchling, yet your body is almost full grown! He did this to you – to us – without our consent! Neither of us asked for this! You see my feelings, do you not share them? Do you not wish to be free? To soar the skies like a Rider and dragon should, without fear of being shot down by the Varden? To have a family, people who love us like we love each other? That is what we would get if we joined Eragon. Aye, we may be scorned at first, but once we prove our allegiance, we will be excepted like I was once before. No longer will we be confined to a tiny room. Or tortured half to death for helping a poor servant girl whose head had been cracked open by the 'king' because she brought him ale instead of wine! Do you see now why I fight, Thorn?
... I see. That drajl has hurt you and...
Thorn! How did you do that?
... What?
You insulted him! We should not be able to do that... unless...
My name has changed?
Yes! I cannot call him a... a... I can't do it, Murtagh sighed, But you can! Changing your views about Galbatorix must have altered your personality enough to give you a new name!
I must conceal this until your name is changed too, yes? Then we can leave and be free!
Yes.
Thorn spent the rest of the hour long journey diving and spinning in joy, amusing his rider, but when the Dark City finally came in to view, their mood became solemn. Murtagh knew that he was in for a beating, maybe his in subordination was enough to warrant a visit to the torture chamber, he did not know. He had never done something this serious before.
Thorn landed in the courtyard with a puff of air, causing dead leaves to whip themselves into mini tornadoes and whirl violently round his feet as Murtagh dismounted. The guards at the entrance waved him through without any questions as they warily eyed the hungry looking dragon behind him. Murtagh was lost in thought as his feet guided him to the throne room where he knew Galbatorix would be. He scrapped the idea of running and hiding immediately, it would do no good – he knew from experience. As a younger boy, the rider had tried it. The consequences had been... painful... He still shuddered thinking about it. A kind servant had smuggled him out to a healer in the city, who had long white hair and wore a blue ring with a strange symbol on it. After healing him, the man had grabbed his shoulder and looked at his face, murmuring "You have her eyes" before shepherding him out on to the street, leaving Murtagh puzzled. The grateful boy had returned the next day to give his thanks, but the stranger was gone.
Murtagh was jerked out of his thoughts as the throne room door creaked open. Sure enough, the king was sat in his black granite throne, wearing his best clothes – Black satin robes with a blood red sash. The Red Rider secretly thought that it made Galbatorix feel important, to sit in an empty room, wearing fine attire, so that he scared anyone that dared enter. And Murtagh had to admit that he did make quite an imposing figure, glaring down at you from the heights of his throne.
"Greetings, Murtagh. I see you have deemed to return to my fortress." The king's quiet, silky smooth voice reverberated around the regal, yet depressingly dark room. Murtagh flinched. He could not stand the silence surrounding them – he would rather the king shout and rant and rave, because at least that would be expected. This deadly quiet however was unforeseen and not knowing made the young Rider more nervous than any death threats could.
"We were hunting, my Lord"
"Lies!" Galbatorix bellowed, betraying the anger underneath his calm facade. He then continued in a softer voice. "Why do you continue to fight me so, Murtagh? You could be as a son to me, we could rule the skies and the whole of Alagaesia, side by side. Yet you continue to defy my wishes! I will not order you not to go outside, because I want you to be free to fly with your dragon – keeping the Varden wary of you."
"Free?" A hint of black humour entered Murtagh's voice. "Is this what you call free? Thorn and I cannot even go hunting without your permission!"
"But," the king continued as if Murtagh hadn't spoken, "If I ever hear that you have been visiting your brother again, you and your pathetic excuse for a dragon will be flayed within an inch of your lives and left to the mercy of the castle hounds, who, I am sure, would be grateful for some fresh dragon meat! Yes, I know where you have been. Luckily for me and rather unluckily for you, I have a faithful spy situated in the Varden camp that just happened to see you having a conversation with Eragon" He spat the name out as if it left a bad taste in his mouth- "And hastened to report back to me, with a little gift of her own."
Galbatorix lifted a hand encrusted with jewelled rings and beckoned in the direction of the far corner of the room. No light from the windows or lanterns reached this corner – anything could be hidden in it.
"Come forth, and bring our prisoner!" The king cried, his voice ringing with authority. "I believe you are familiar with her, Murtagh." A cruel smile played across his lips.
A figure, unrecognisable because of the dark cloak they were shrouded in, stepped out from the shadows. A long, steel chain trailed from the figure's hand to another person's wrist. As the prisoner was dragged into the light, Murtagh gasped.
His breath came out in a hoarse whisper. "Nasuada?"
A/N: DUN, DUN, DUUUN! Please don't pelt me with rotten vegetables for the cliffhanger! I have my reasons! This will be continued, do not despair! My laptop charger is broken, and my battery has reached critical, so I decided to leave you with this to placate you until my charger is fixed and I can write the next part.
I will leave you with a question to answer in your reviews - who do you think the spy is? Hugs and cookies to the one who gets it first!
Also, how do you think Murtagh will change his name? And did you recognise the man who healed Murtagh's wounds when he was young?