2

The days that followed were cold and dark, and for Selena fraught with growing despair. Fortunately, Morzan hadn't been there when she'd arrived, allowing her several days of peace with her young son. She ordered his wet nurse away and stayed with Murtagh, caring for him as best she could. She held him in her arms and kept him in sight, fearing if she didn't he might be taken from her for good. She rocked him when he cried and cradled him as he slept, stroking his dark hair and tracing his soft cheek with her finger. Selena wondering what the further had planned for him and what sort of man Murtagh would grown up to become. She prayed feverishly he wouldn't be like Morzan, full of anger and hatred, pitiless to even his closest friends. Murtagh had great power, she'd felt it even in the womb, and she was afraid for him. If Galbatorix knew, he would send for the baby to be raised under his strict guidance—raised in the hopes he would be the next Dragon Rider.

Some days, when the weather promoted and the weak sunlight filtered through the clouds, Selena would walk the castle grounds with Murtagh in her arms, ignoring the numerous glances tossed her way and holding her head high and proud. Most of the time the courtyard gardener was working, and she would go to him and ask after a particular plant or flower, demanding him explain them to her. He would—almost willingly—though Selena often felt that his words held more meaning behind the plant-lore.

"Do you have any family?" Selena coolly asked one afternoon. It was a question she'd been wondering since meeting the old man, though she didn't know why.

"No," The gardener shook his head, not looking up from racking the bed with his hoe. His gruff voice stopped her from inquiring further.

"Your son's ailing," Brom said when Selena approached him a few days later, Murtagh wiggling in her arms. He didn't look up from pulling a patch of tough weeds in one bed. Brom found that he could speak freely under the disguise of an old gardener, though he made sure to check his words before speaking them aloud.

"He has been sick," said Selena setting down a blanket close by, near enough to speak with him but not close enough to case anyone to gossip. Murtagh lay on his back on her lap, his chubby fingers fighting the air as she played with him. "He's fever broke yesterday."

"He shouldn't be out," Brom said quietly.

"He needs the fresh air," Selena retorted. "I don't like him being in the castle."

Brom nodded. So she's not entirely in Morzan's control after all, he thought and pondered this new weakness he'd found. He glanced up and looked at her for a long moment. Her veil was gone and her hair hung down in loose waves, pooling on the ground as its rich tones flickered with fire and gold under the sunlight. He had the sudden urge to reach out and pick up a tendril of her hair, to feel its silky softness between his rough fingers…

No! Brom slammed down on that longing. She's evil. She's the enemy. He glanced away.

Selena had felt his eyes on her. She looked up just as he turned away and renewed weeding. She watched him with growing interesting, realizing that he moved with an ease and rigor one his age shouldn't have. A strange sensation came over her, the feeling of….

Selena looked down at Murtagh and ignored the gardener for the rest of the day. That night Morzan returned, and she was sent on yet another mission to a spy from the Varden.

-Ξ-

The months stretched on and Selena's visits back to Morzan's castle were few and far between. Brom stayed where he was, learning what he could and relying that information back to the Varden leaders. But he still hadn't made a move against Morzan or the Black Hand. The time wasn't ripe, and his heart was against killing Selena.

So he waited.

The times Selena did return were like light in his dark days. Brom greatly enjoyed her company, however short and cold tempered she could be she was one of the very few woman he felt he could relate to. Yes, he'd bedded many throughout the years, mostly one-night-stands when he could forget the harsh reality of the world for a few pleasurable hours, but his dragon Saphira had been his only true love. Now that she was died he had no interest in anyone until now.

Selena was a puzzle to Brom.

One moment she was the cold cruel assassin, the next warm, kind, and almost—loving. Brom felt there was polar-opposites struggling inside her, struggling for sole mastery over her. He'd begun to feel that somehow he could help her, turn her back to the light and against her husband's rule. It wasn't only for him and the Varden's sake, but Brom felt he wanted to do it for her sake was well. She would die otherwise.

"I wish I could take him out and race him over the planes," Selena said one day as she watched Brom groom a new roan Morzan's horse-master had brought in. The old gardener had taken on a bit of the stable duties now that the stableboy had gone off to become a solider. She marveled at how calmly the roan was towards the old man, and how gentle he handed him.

"I used to when I was younger," Selena added in explanation after the gardener remained silent.

"Why don't you now?" said the gardener.

She gave a hard, barking laugh, "I was a child. I'm not now."

"If it gives you freedom," Brom replied slowly, "you shouldn't scorn it."

Selena's eyes narrowed, and he momentarily feared she would lash out at him in anger, but her next words were soft and almost sorrowful, "Why do I always get the feeling you are more than you seem?"

"And why do I get the feeling you aren't what you seem?" He returned gruffly.

Selena smiled. "We are a fitting match, you and I," she said bitterly. "You are a gardener with nothing but your planets, and I'm a lady of a cold house with nothing to call my own."

"I know a great deal of people who wouldn't say that," said Brom. "You have wealth, comfort, a son and a loving husband…"

"Hah!" Selena snorted, "You speak lies." Her voice lowered until only he could he hear them, "My husband, Morzan, hates my sight and loves his dogs more than I. My son… My son is the only reason I am here, the only reason I'm alive today. I have nothing aside from him!"

"Then why do you stay?" Brom looked at her, his eyes study and searching. His voice was low, but not age riddled as before.

Selena stared at him. She'd had never thought about it like that, it would be so simply and yet…

She bowed her head, "I can't. I'm bounded here. If I try to escape Morzan will hunt me down and kill me for sure. I…can't."

Brom nodded, understanding her full meaning more than she knew. "There are ways…" He said slowly, cautiously. "Ways to do good even in your captivity."

"And risk the wrath of Morzan and Galbatorix? I think not!"

Selena whirled around, intending to march out from the stables to leave the old gardener and their conversation at last, but Brom reached out and grabbed her wrist. Upon contact a surge of energy raced through her being. She stared and gave a gasp, whirling back to the old man, but he was suddenly too strong for her. He grasped her other hand and pushed her back against the fall wall, shutting the stable door behind them with his boot. They were so close, mere inches separated them from each other, and in the dim light Selena realized that the man holding her was no longer an old gardener.

Brom had shed his disguise. He was tall and straight, most of the wrinkles from his face gone and his eyes shinning out bright and eager. He held Selena gently, sensing her growing anxiety at the contact.

"Long have I watched you, Selena," he said, and his voice was deep and kind, deprived of its usual grumpiness. "You are a slave to Morzan, can't you see that?"

"I do," said Selena coolly, holding her head high and proud. "But who are you to tell thus? And who are you anyway? A gardener? A stable hand? A—spy?"

At her last words, Brom twitched and his eyes darkened intensely.

"Ahh," said Selena, "so the truth comes out at last? Wait until I report you to my husband, I will take pleasure I knowing he's dealt with your rotting hide."

Brom's grip on her tightened for a second, then he let her go with a flourish and backed away, eyes gleaming with a mixture of loathing and regret. "You take the coward's way out, Selena," Him mocked her coldly. "Can't you deal with me yourself?"

Selena's eyes flashed and she withdraw a dagger from her sleeve, spring on the other man. Brom expected this and he turned, twisting away to let the dagger past him by, he sank into a crouch and grabbed the confused woman by the waist, throwing her off balance and to the ground.

Brom grabbed her neck and forced her chin up, locking eyes with Selena as he growled, "You don't know how much I hate you, Selena." He panted with the sheer hatred that was consuming him, his loins burning with the dangerous beauty so close to him. "I hate you for what you have done to me, what Morzan has done, what Galbatorix has done. And yet…I pity you," He spat out the words with bitterness on his tongue. "I have lost everything and have nothing to gain. You, you have lost everything and have everything to gain."

"What if I. don't. want. it?" replied Selena just as bitterly.

Brom gave a sour laugh at what a pair they now made, both anger, resentful and revengeful. He let Selena go and stood, saying, "If you dare betray me to Morzan, you will die. I've been mercifully to you far too longer. I see my err now." And his voice was sad as if he wished for something to happen that he now realized would never come to pass.

"Go, Black Hand," Brom ordered, and Selena slowly, reluctantly obeyed. Her thoughts were a whirlwind of confusion, anger and hate, but she was suddenly very hesitated to tell Morzan what had happened.

And she didn't know why.