"At sunrise, everything is luminous but not clear." A River Runs Through It by Norman Maclean

Full Title: This is what I thought so think me naive

This is one of my favorite chapters to date.

Murtagh could feel his legs tensing underneath him as he crept through mostly unfamiliar hallways; he knew where he was, and he knew he'd been there before and yet he couldn't be completely confident of where he was going mostly because he could not remember the name of where he was. There were shackles around his wrists, but strangely Murtagh didn't feel worried or uneasy. He knew where he wanted to go – the kitchen.

Things were going generally well for him, meaning that he hadn't run into someone who would throw him back into the dungeon, until he ducked down one hallway and, about a third of the way down said hallway, heard the most pleasantly familiar sound through a closed doorway: his Lady Liaden laughing.

Murtagh was forced to stop instantly at the shock; the castle was dark, wherever he was, except for where the windows let in the light of a red-orange sunset. There was a single door on the wall with the windows halfway down the hallway, on Murtagh's left hand side, and Murtagh was sure that he'd heard his Lady's laughing from behind that door. His dilemma, then, was whether or not to continue in his creeping in hopes of finding the kitchen, or to go to the Lady Liaden and ask her for help.

He heard her laughing again, and for a second the sound drew Murtagh like a moth to a flame before he forced himself to stop and figure out what would be best; if Liaden was not in the dungeon, as Murtagh assumed he'd been in (he couldn't quite remember), then chances were that she was a guest at this castle, even if he was not. This alone did not make sense, unless of course she'd done something stupid to try and help Emerson.

There was another laugh, and this time Murtagh was drawn almost into wherever Liaden was. Whatever decision he made, Murtagh understood that he had to make it fast since the longer he stood here, the most likely he was to get caught. Who could Liaden be with? Murtagh pondered the question for a moment, but since he wasn't sure where he was then he couldn't be sure of whom she was with.

Finally giving into his instincts, Murtagh used his shackled hands to pry the door open, only stopping when he heard the horrified gasps of two people inside. Two heads turned towards him from the edge of a balcony – Eragon's and Liaden's. Murtagh stumbled backwards, shocked at seeing his student with his brother, two people who should be on opposite sides of the war and thereby not sitting on a balcony watching the sun set and laughing.

Liaden's jaw dropped, but Eragon didn't seem surprised at being interrupted. As Liaden scooted away from Eragon, leaving an awkwardly empty space between them, Murtagh's heart broke. Everything became sickeningly clear to him in that moment and, swallowing passed the dryness in his throat, Murtagh staggered further backwards into the hall.

"Murtagh," Liaden swung her legs easily over the railing that she and Eragon were sitting on, deciding Lord knows what; Murtagh felt like he didn't know her anymore. "Murtagh, you really shouldn't have left your room; if someone sees you we can't put you back in a low-security room." Murtagh felt an inexplicable urge to explain himself, to apologize, but for the life of him he could not figure out why. "Murtagh, please…"

Murtagh's eyes snapped open of their own accord; a quick glance around his room told him that the guard in his room had fallen asleep while standing up, and the fire was burning low enough that the crackling sound it made wasn't at all disturbing. Instead, Murtagh had to accept that he'd woken up because the dream had disturbed him that much. His sheets were tangled around him to the point that Murtagh would be amazed if he would be able to get out of his beds without cutting the sheets off of him. Sleep well?

Murtagh glanced cautiously out his window; it was just before dawn, fairly early even by Murtagh's standards. If he had his choice, he would go back asleep, but he knew quite well that until he figured out exactly what his dream had been trying to tell him. Thorn, I need you to keep your eye on Liaden. Attempting to explain his sudden fears, Murtagh let Thorn far enough into his head to see the dream, I think she may have been lying to us all along.

Imagine that. Thorn was obviously in a sarcastic mood, What are you going to do about it?

I'm going to research, Murtagh replied, the word making him cringe as he managed to detach himself from his bed. "Guard," he barked, ignoring how the guard jumped to attention before rubbing at his eyes inconspicuously, "I want you to wake Lady Liaden at the appropriate time; tell her that I won't be joining her for breakfast and possibly not for lunch. Have someone bring me my food when it is ready; I'll be in my private study."

What could you possibly research about her? Couldn't this dream have been just a dream, Murtagh? Murtagh paused as he pulled his belt around his waist, chewing over the thought in his mind momentarily before quickly shaking it out.

Dragon Riders rarely have 'just dreams.' Even if it was, I have to check everything she has ever said to me out; if she's… Murtagh swallowed in attempt to soothe his dry throat, reminding him too perfectly of his dream, If she's with the Varden, then we're in more danger than if Galbatorix were to get a hold of us.

What about that dream could make you think that she's allied with the Varden? Maybe it means that she's just as important to you as Eragon is; maybe it means that one day, no matter what you do, she will join the Varden. Nothing about that dream makes it plausible that it happened in the past.

She was laughing with Eragon; she knew him before, I'm sure of it. Murtagh stubbornly walked the few steps down the hall, slamming the door to his study behind him. He grabbed the first book he could reach, Thorn, she healed me, and on her first try, even though she couldn't float a pebble; wouldn't it make more sense for her to know everything and be acting than to know absolutely nothing?

I sighed as I sat just outside the stable, leaning against Emerson and watching as Pappy pranced around in a small pasture outside. It was a particularly hot day, but I couldn't bring myself to mind Emerson's added heat. He was practicing breathing fire, something I was slowly getting used to; I still didn't like the idea, since what little maternal instinct I have tells me not to let what I care about play with fire, but I've accepted it.

Pappy seemed to be quite content to run around in his pasture and kick up sand, even if there was no grass to graze on. His coat glistened with sweat, and if he kept up his wild running then I might have to go in there and calm him down so that he wouldn't overheat. Emerson, what do you think Murtagh is doing?

Emerson's growl vibrated through my body, and the small, steady stream of fire that had been blowing harmlessly away from the castle momentarily flared into a small ball. Really, I think I'm doing pretty well; so far, I haven't talk to Emerson at all about Murtagh, even though I haven't seen my teacher since last night after my lessons. And when I openly have a crush on someone, it's really an accomplishment to not have mentioned him already to someone who can read my mind.

You were told he was doing research; he's probably preparing for your lesson tonight, or he has a meeting with the King soon. Either way he's not what you should be concentrating on.

I shrugged, torn between feeling defensive and hurt because of Emerson's disappointment. I'm not concentrating on him, I'm pondering. Aren't I allowed to ponder anymore? As if to answer my question, though if it were an answer it wasn't an answer that I understood, I heard the castle's door slam as it hit the outer wall, insinuating that whoever was rushing out was in a hurry. Hoping it was Murtagh, and that he was hurrying for various reasons towards me, I was obviously disillusioned when I stood and turned to see it was a large group of Urgals. Once the feeling past, I called to them, "What's wrong?" After all, what could seeing a group of Urgals mean except that something is wrong.

By some careless panic that was instinctual, I reached towards the youngest Urgal's mind and saw a few sorted images, mostly envisioning the Urgals dragging me and Emerson around. I screamed, the only warning that Emerson needed, but it was too late for me; two Urgals savagely wrapped their hands around my arms before I could hop onto Emerson's back. Emerson started to fight his captors almost immediately as they attempted to jump onto his back and tie ropes around him. His roar made his discontent obvious, and it only took him a few seconds to shake the off.

I watched this all as I struggled against the two Urgals whom I could never hope to overpower, and I shouted various profanities at them instead. Who did they think they were? If I could control my magic, I would be burning them to crisps at this moment. It didn't take either brute long to drag me into the castle, where I could only hear Emerson's screams as they rattled the walls but could have no idea as to what was happening.

Desperate, I reached simultaneously to Murtagh's and Thorn's mind, What's happening? Thorn quickly blocked me out of his head, making me feel very lonely; Murtagh's mind was stereotypically closed to the world, but I could tell he was close. Moreover, just the smallest bit of anger radiated from where I sensed him, worrying me much more than the large group of Urgals had.

I hadn't explored the first floor much in my time here, since there didn't seem to be any point, and of course that was exactly where the Urgals were taking me. They didn't seem to mind my kicking and screaming, or that in my fighting I had managed to force their arms to my wrists which, in turn, meant that they were dragging me along on the hard stone ground.

Then, just as rough as the transportation to my destination had been, the twin Urgals threw me into a small, stone room that lacked both windows and any form of decoration. Inside, just off center and a little towards the back of the room, stood Murtagh, looking positively murderous. "Thank you, that will be all," he quickly dismissed the guards, his voice snapping.

For the first few minutes that I was in the room, I watched Murtagh with careful eyes; what was going on? Couldn't the Urgals have just… asked me to come nicely? Murtagh had to know that I would come if he wanted to talk to me. And why… why here, in the officially most depressing room in the entire castle? And why is Emerson fighting with Urgals for his freedom? I thought we were trusted.

"Murtagh, what is going on?" I rubbed my wrists affectionately before abandoning the action; it hurt the manhandled skin more than it soothed it, "I mean, are the Urgals rebelling? Do you need me to fight?"

"I think you've been doing too much fighting," Murtagh responded, and suddenly the entire room took on the atmosphere of a police interview; Murtagh was obviously the detective questioning me, and if I know him he's hell bent on breaking me. Too bad I'm not guilty of whatever happened. "Liaden, I need you to tell me everything about your past; tell me about New York, about how you found Emerson."

"Murtagh, what is go-"

Murtagh cut off my question by reaching his hand forward, Anakin Skywalker-style, and I felt a sudden pressure wrap around my throat. Immediately my body forced me to start gagging and gasping for breath, and my fingers started to claw my neck hopefully before I was thrown back into the wall. If I could've, I would've cried as the pain jolted through me.

For one horrifying second I realized that this was the first time Murtagh had actually harmed me, and in that second I wanted to die a little. What had happened to him? This wasn't the Murtagh I'd come to slightly obsess over and joke with about the names of the Lord and Ladies of the court. "You aren't the one asking questions, Liaden, so if you would please answer the question."

My heart started racing as I continued to claw at the pressure on my throat, which lessened as Murtagh stepped closer to me; my legs kicked against the wall, and I was conversely disgusted by the way Murtagh said my name now, the way he almost spit it out. His deep voice didn't drag over the syllables the way I remembered. When I could breathe, I finally told Murtagh the answer. By this time, he was only a few inches away. It's ironic, this is the kind of closeness that I'd have done anything for not ten minutes ago. "I…" I gasped for more air, "I can't tell you, Murtagh; you know that."

"I swear to you that I will not attack your hometown, now tell me!" The pressure tightened around my neck again, this time the magic from Murtagh's outstretched hand glowing red momentarily before it once again disappeared into invisibility. I choked, which obviously frustrated Murtagh more as he let my head fall forward before slamming it back into the wall, "Tell me, Liaden!"

"M… Murtagh, you're…" I didn't know what to do to calm him down, but I've got to give it a shot. "You're hurting me."

For a second, I was sure that Murtagh either didn't hear me or, more likely, what I'd said had angered him and I was going to die. I didn't think there was anything I could do to fight it; Murtagh was more powerful than me, even after however much training he'd put me through. I didn't even know what the words would be to make him leave me alone.

But then that moment passed and something sparked in Murtagh's eyes; I was too horrified to completely comprehend what it was, but his hand dropped and the pressure on my neck disappeared altogether. I guess my pain and fear combined and worked in my favor, but I wasn't about to stay and test Murtagh's suddenly-there sympathy. Still gasping for breath, I turned and pulled out the door, my legs lengthening. I felt like Belle running from the Beast, only I need to find my trust steed. EMERSON?!

I heard the clanking of armor behind me as I rushed down the hall and turned suddenly out the front courtyard. I escaped, Liaden; I'm coming for you. Of course, I had no idea just how far away he was, but I had to get out of the castle. I could slip through the bars on the drawbridge if I had to, but I wasn't standing around. Adrenaline pushed me forward, and luckily Emerson hadn't gone far. He landed in the courtyard and I turned as I hit the gates, which had been closed.

I rebounded and almost immediately found myself gripping to Emerson's back as he roared mightily, swinging his neck around to bite at an Urgal that was trying to grab my ankle. He then pushed off the ground and took advantage of his tremendous speed. He was headed straight up, obviously aiming for cloud cover. I probably should have been looking around to see if Murtagh and Thorn were following us, but I was more concentrated on holding onto Emerson's spikes so as to not fall off.

What did he want? Before I could sensor them, the entire memory played at high speed for Emerson's viewing pleasure, and I felt Emerson tremble with anger beneath me, AND THAT'S THE MAN YOU DEEM WORTHY OF YOUR AFFECTIONS?!

If I wasn't horrified and trembling after coming off that adrenaline rush, I would've realized how strangely that was worded. Instead, in spite of everything he'd done to me, I jumped to Murtagh's defense, That… that wasn't the Murtagh I know; that was a demon in Murtagh's body. I mean, he can't be calm and cool and composed all the time, can he?

Emerson was seething with anger to the point that I could almost see it pouring out of him, You're trying to tell me that you still have feelings for that sack of sheep dung?!

I shook my head, swallowing and continuing to cling to the safety of Emerson's back as he lengthened himself to gain more speed, No, no; I'm saying that wasn't the him that I liked. I couldn't ever like that.

Emerson snorted, the smoke dissipating into the clouds just below us, I could have told you that was there; he was never exactly a loving person. As much as I wanted to defend Murtagh, I dropped the topic; there were more important things, and Murtagh was decidedly a part of my past now.

What's your plan?

We're heading in a straight line; I can build up the most speed possible and they'll be checking everywhere anyway; really, a straight line is the least predictable path we could take. I nodded, trusting that in the end Emerson knew where he was going; he'd been thinking about escaping since before we were even taken prisoner officially. And it looks like he was right to be suspicious; in the end, my trust is what got us into trouble.

"Which way did she go?" Murtagh cried as he burst out of the stone room, a room he hadn't dared enter in years before this. The entirety of his Urgal force had gathered in his front courtyard and the general was giving directions as he waited for the gate to be opened. Feeling ultimately panicked, Murtagh started for the front courtyard but, changing his mind at the last minute, skidded into the back courtyard to find his dragon stretching lazily in the sun. Do you know which way she went?

Thorn nodded, stretching his mouth wide in a yawn and looking like a cat mid cat-nap, Yes, I do; why, do you want to go look for her?

"YES!" Murtagh was indeed so panicked that he was willing to talk to his dragon verbally, if only that would make it clear that he needed to go and bring her back.

I suppose you need her back so badly because Galbatorix would punish us severely if we were to lose her.

"NO!" Murtagh quickly cursed himself; this was why he never spoke aloud to Thorn. Things started to pour out and he couldn't stop himself from saying the first thing that came to mind.

Thorn's attention peaked as he opened a single ruby colored eye to observe his Rider knowingly, Why else would we go looking for her?

Because… Murtagh paused, glancing uncomfortably around as if one of the rallying Urgals could hear his thoughts, Because I care for her and I don't want her to leave. Thorn was up and prepared to leave so quickly that Murtagh knew he had never actually been napping. Without questioning his dragon's motives, and feeling strangely light now that he'd admitted that he actually cared about Liaden, Murtagh pulled himself onto his dragons back and held on as his dragon took off, flying confidently upwards. Murtagh was generally displeased with where they were heading: due East, into nothing but desert. You're sure this is where they went?

Yes; I can smell Emerson puffing smoke whenever he gets excited.

I sighed as I leaned back against Emerson, not nearly as relaxed as I had been earlier today. Now I was a fugitive, and I was completely unaware of how strong and fast the King's forces really were. Every time the wind shifted, I kept expecting the new breeze to bring a different assassin or bounty hunter. But Emerson was on high alert, and he couldn't see or hear anything coming for us.

Of course, that never stopped a certain red dragon from crashing in on us before; and I screamed as the sand flew over me. Desperate, I grabbed a hold of Emerson's spikes as he began to rise into the air, but there was an opposite pull around my waist, "Liaden, wait, please!" I could feel Emerson as he turned to snap and Murtagh, but Emerson missed and was easily pinned by his ex-teacher.

A wrestling match quickly ensued, which understandably resulted in my losing my grip on Emerson's spikes and being pulled away from Emerson by a very annoying Murtagh; I struggled against him valiantly, but fighting Murtagh physically was just as pointless as fighting him with magic, and it didn't take long at all until he had me pinned, my dragon receiving much of the same treatment just a few yards away.

"Murtagh, let go of me!" I considered spitting in his face, but I choose life over defiance.

"No, not until you listen to me! I'm sorry, Liaden. I… I lost my temper with you back there and for that I'm sorry." I was shocked into silence at having heard Murtagh apologize to me for the first time. His face was a plethora of delightful, beautiful emotions, mostly annoyance. He turned to glare at Thorn, but his gaze softened completely when he looked back at me, "And… and I don't want you to leave; I want you to stay with me, even if you are a spy for the Varden."

Even if Murtagh wasn't pinning me down, his words would have made me stop and look at him. I was a spy for the Varden? "Have you been listening to anything I've told you?"

Murtagh shook his head, "I know you were lying, Liaden, but I just don't care anymore; I… I don't want you to leave. I can't let you leave me."

"I'm not a spy for the Varden, Murtagh!" Again, Murtagh shook his head, his dark hair falling and providing a half-sized curtain around the two of our heads. "My God, Murtagh, don't you trust me?"

"No… yes… just please don't leave." My stomach churned as Murtagh's eyes started to shine. It very well could have been my imagination, but… but my Lord Murtagh honestly wants me to stay with him. My heart started to flutter, and I couldn't fight the realization that I wanted to stay with him too. I didn't know what was going on in the war; Emerson's going to be pissed, but I'm going back.

I hear a voice say, "Don't be so blind!"
It's telling me all the things that you would probably hide
Am I your one and only desire?
Am I the reason you breathe or am I the reason you cry?
Always, always, always, I just can't live without you!
I love you, I hate you, I can't get around you
I breathe you, I taste you, I just can't live without you
I just can't take anymore, this life of solitude
I guess then I'm out the door and now I'm done with you
I feel like you don't want me around
I guess I'll pack all my things, I guess I'll see you around
It's all been bottled up until now
…
I see the blood all over your hands
Does it make you feel like more of a man?
Was it all just a part of your plan?

Always by Saliva

The last part of that is going to end up getting reused, FYI. This song is just so intensely Murtagh and Liaden at this moment.