Alright, to make things clear for you guys, the beginning of this story starts around six months after Eldest.

Also, I would like to note that what you just saw of Saphira, Eragon and that whole gang will be all you will see for quite a few chapters. However, they will be a part of the story. I said this was also an E/A fic and it is, all this is just necessary. I swear, they're coming, and they'll be big.

Full Title: You see right through me cause you're running away

Everything about the next day was awkward. Waking up to Murtagh, going to the stables to have a talk with Emerson about staying, the way I couldn't bring myself to so much as talk to Murtagh, much less look at him, before I excused myself from lunch early to ponder alone in my room what had happened.

Technically, it's always easy to figure out what happened: Murtagh and I fought, he kissed me to keep me here, Emerson threw a fit and sent four Urgals flying through the castle's gates, and then I went to bed floating on a mini-cloud and figuring that everything would be sorted out in the morning by some magical process that I know nothing about because I'm not from this world.

Instead, I'm sitting across from Murtagh, trying to create a ball of light so I can read a book in the Ancient Language, and Murtagh is lounging on a rock and writing a letter. I get the distinct feeling this is busy work because he doesn't want to have any kind of interaction with me. Which actually pisses me off a lot; what, in his attempt to keep me here, he willingly lied to me and figured that if anything would keep me it was the promise of a relationship, but once he thought about it, he decided it was a bad idea? I don't even know what's going through his head!

In a desperate attempt to find out, I reached mentally forward with my mind and ran right into Murtagh's stereotypical, full-proof wall. I groaned with frustration as I fell back into the reddish-sand, inwardly declaring that the search was hopeless. "What do you think you're doing, Liaden?"

Ugh, I could kill him. "What did you think you were doing last night, Murtagh?" Ha! A straight-forward question. I'd like to see him try and not answer that question.

"Well, last night was a rather eventful night for me; I spent a few hours searching for you…"

I think he's the only man in the entire galaxy that could possibly answer my question and not actually answer it. He's the biggest contradiction to everything I've ever known. Does he really want me to come out and say exactly what I'm talking about? "The kiss, Murtagh," I border-line screamed at him, "What did you think you were doing when you kissed me."

"Well, a kiss would be defined as-" I swear, he wasn't this infuriating when I had a crush on him all of forty-eight hours ago.

"What did you mean by it?!" Alright, now that question is fool-proof. What did you mean when you kissed me. What kind of smart-ass answer could he come up with for that? He meant what people normally mean by kisses? That still answers my question.

"I wanted you to stay, I did what I thought I had to." Alright, now I kind of want to kill him. I mean, I know I couldn't, but I really, really want to. Murtagh and his shiny red sword and his cute little avoid-the-question-until-you-rip-out-my-heart answers, who needs him? If I thought I could get away with it, I'd already be on Emerson and running away again. I'm not scared to anymore; anything is better than here.

Emerson sighed as he curled his feet under him, watching his teacher carefully. After a few minutes of flying, Thorn had landed and seemed currently to be meditating on a particular subject. Hesitantly, Emerson reached his nose forward towards the red dragon, Thorn?

I'm trying to decide, Emerson, whether I should tell you what I know or if I should just leave Murtagh and Liaden to figure themselves out. Emerson knew what Thorn was talking about without having to even bother wondering: what would happen between Murtagh and Liaden now that they were completely alone, and more importantly what should happen. Emerson honestly felt like he was watching one of those horrid drama shows that Liaden used to watch with her friends back home.

I am firmly against the relationship; based on what you have told me about the Empire, and what I've put together myself, I feel that Liaden and I should leave for Surda the moment the next opportunity arises. Emerson and Thorn both knew that this feeling of hatred for the Empire was not a blatant remark about how Emerson also felt for Thorn; despite what Emerson had told Liaden, he enjoyed his times with his teacher. But he also couldn't forget what Thorn had showed Emerson about the empire purposefully. Both of them agreed in the need for the King's downfall.

But couldn't they form a relationship without being on the same side? Maybe Murtagh will change his mind.

Emerson growled at his brief mental image of Murtagh and Liaden, laughing together and acting sweet like one of those couples on Liaden's TV shows. In spite of his imaginary contempt for Thorn, he felt very real anger and harbored genuine hate for the Lord Murtagh; there were things about Murtagh that Thorn refused to tell him, like why Murtagh was picked to be her teacher and Murtagh's actual feelings of the war. That, in combination with his very secretive personality and something else Emerson couldn't quite put his claws on, resulted in Emerson's very open dislike for the Rider. Haven't you ever heard how those romances end? Of course, Emerson couldn't use his own dislike as a reason for why his own Rider shouldn't be happy in a relationship. Besides, I highly doubt that Murtagh feels anything for Liaden at all.

Thorn huffed, smoke billowing out of his nostrils easily, That is what I'm thinking about showing you; Liaden is open enough that I can generally tell what's going on in her mind, even if she did know how to block her mind while still talk to me.

Emerson straightened his neck is slight surprise, You've read Liaden's mind while talking to her? This was quite contradictory to both of a dragon's moral thought process. Since the only way for a dragon to communicate was by invading a person's mind, Emerson was always under the impression that out of courtesy the invasion would be minimal, resulting in no sharing of actual memories.

No, but her face is telling enough; it's Murtagh that's such a mystery. To you, that is. It was Emerson's turn to snort gray-green smoke. Murtagh is a mystery; how surprising. But I know Murtagh, and I feel that… I want my Rider to be happy, and that can't happen until you know.

As if that Yoda-esque thought was Thorn's final decision, a slow movie began to play for Emerson from Murtagh's viewpoint. He watched as Liaden stood in front of him nervously, admitting that she'd gotten nervous when he was in the tailor's room with her. Emotions flooded through him, and after that moment everything related to Liaden played at a fast-forward pace, leaving only one real emotion for Murtagh to sense and understand: caring. Murtagh had cared for Liaden.

Thorn easily skipped over the day when Murtagh had hated Liaden because she was a spy and refocused on how Murtagh was feeling after Liaden had left, and this feeling also struck Emerson: desperate. Desperate and caring and the slightest bit protective over her. Of course, there were some blacked-out moment when Murtagh was thinking something that Emerson wasn't allowed to know about, but in the end those moments weren't as disconcerting as the emotions Murtagh felt the rest of the time.

Emerson sighed as the memories faded after last night, a large black-out from the time the two of them were in the room together. While Thorn had explained to Emerson that Murtagh's private study had been endowed with permanent wards by Murtagh's mother as a defense for Morzan that made the memories formed there impossible to be shared, Emerson knew perfectly well that Liaden had confessed most, if not all, of her history to Murtagh in that time.

During the kiss, when the memory faded out, there was a sense of elation. Of comfort, of release, of infinite right-ness. It was inexplicable to both Murtagh and to Emerson, and left the green dragon with a sense of awe. It didn't change the fact that Emerson didn't like anything about Murtagh, but at least Emerson knew that Murtagh wasn't faking the feelings for Liaden just to keep her there. The realization was less comforting than it should've been, especially considering that when Emerson reached out towards Liaden to sense how she was doing, he felt her pain and knew instinctually that she'd been emotionally hurt.

My memories flashed for Emerson's viewing pleasure as I bent over completely in my saddle, my cheek pressed to his neck and my hands wrapped around the first spine at the base of his neck, I mean, can you believe it?! I can't believe I came back here with him. You were right, he isn't worth the dust on the bottom of my boot. I mean, the nerve of it all. We're going to go tonight, Emerson, I promise.

I could feel my dragon's hesitance behind my suggestion before he voiced it, That might not be such a good idea; they'll be expecting it tonight, Liaden, especially after Murtagh telling you what he did. But in all fairness… In spite of my protesting, Emerson landed on the ground, for the first time without the painful jolt that usually accompanied his landing, Liaden, what would you have done if Murtagh had told you that he'd kissed you because he genuinely cared for you? Different than how I care for you, but, well, more like you'd wanted Garrett to.

I froze for a moment at the ponderings of my dragon, my shock hindering my ability to hide my reactions: happiness, excitement, the floating feeling that is completely normal when a girl finds out that her crush likes her too. Emerson nodded as my thoughts inadvertently transmitted to him via our connection, his neck bowing as I slid off his back.

I see. For a second there was more hesitation, and then Emerson gave me his suggestion, They'll be expecting us to leave tonight; I suggest we wait for at least a week and build up their trust before we try another escape attempt. Another week? Where was the Emerson I knew, the one who was willing to bite Thorn in the ass if it meant my possibly being able to get off of the red dragon last night? Where was that desperate feeling to get out of here and fight for the other side that I was suddenly all for? Was this even my Emerson? And why is that, of the three times I've wanted to leave, Emerson has squashed two of those attempts?

With a sad sigh, Emerson turned and left me standing in the small area between the castle and the stables, his head hanging low. A few moments later, Thorn landed dangerously close to my left, Murtagh's feet hitting the ground almost before Thorn's had. Their goodbye was wordless, but as opposed to following Emerson into the stables to sleep, or heading towards his own courtyard, the glittering red dragon stood next to me as his own Rider hurried into the castle.

Then, as if he knew exactly what was going on in my mind as a result of Murtagh's more-than-merely-cruel words, Thorn bent his neck to look me directly in the eye, It will be alright, Lady Liaden. Please, don't leave him.

I watched in shocked amazement as Thorn then carefully trudged past me into the stable. What kind of dragon says THAT? I mean, that wasn't even wise, that was just… wrong. And he probably wouldn't even give me an explanation if I begged for it. But he's still going to expect me to listen to him and trust him, like I'd trusted Murtagh last night.

I groaned as I turned towards the castle, meaning to hide in bed for the next week – I essentially had to listen to him; apparently, I'm not going to be leaving for a while because I'm simply not trusted anymore. Really, who can blame me for running away last night? I was thrown into the wall by a magical hand controlled by a pissed off Dragon Rider with obvious anger management issues and so many personalities my head could start spinning. No one blamed Belle when she ran away from the Beast!

Then again the Beast saved her from wolves and then they had a tender moment and started to fall in love. Murtagh crashed into my campsite, forced me back here, used my own girlish desire for tender moments against me, and is now officially the biggest asshole I've ever met. He's like the beast, only because he's such a blind dumbass he'll never see that he could be human again.

Hold on, I take the last half of that back; I don't think I can forgive him for this, not fully. Not without something drastic, at least. So not only does Murtagh have to open his eyes to break the spell, but he has to grovel too.

Murtagh sighed as he laid in his bed, staring at his ceiling. The omnipresent guard was snoring in his chair against the wall and Murtagh wanted desperately to tell the Urgal to get out of his room and let him think. And Murtagh would have, if he thought it would help.

He didn't quite feel horrible for what he'd said to Liaden; at least, not in the stricter sense. If it were just what he'd said, he'd been sleeping right now since he, by nature, stood by his words. He'd thought what he said was pretty alright; he'd said that he wanted her to stay, he just wasn't specific as to why he wanted her to stay.

Murtagh himself couldn't deny why he wanted her to stay, since it seemed to him now that the truth had been admitted it was nearly bubbling out of him, but he knew it was better for the both of them that she didn't know. Having spent a bit of time inside her head, he was quite certain that she would want to pursue these feelings and possibly end it with some sort of long-term commitment. And long-term commitment was not something either of them could afford, especially if he was going to turn her to Galbatorix's side.

Nonetheless, the tiniest bit of him wanted to, just to see; he had no idea what it was like to be courting a girl, but he couldn't imagine that it was too horribly different from what they were doing now. He and Liaden spent most of their time together, every meal, and had time to themselves every night during their lessons. So what would be the change? What was courting actually like?

Murtagh shook his ponderings out of his head, declaring them pointless and fruitless. Well, not fruitless; Liaden could very well agree to it. At least, she would have before the lesson tonight. Maybe. Murtagh groaned, running his hands through his hair awkwardly and letting his legs tense and relax wildly. What if she would have? What if she showcases her brilliant determination and tries again? And worse, what if he said yes?

I was fighting against the pull of whatever natural gravity was keeping me at a standstill in front of the large projector screen, forcing me to watch the pictures come into a sharp, painful focus. I knew I was dreaming, but I still wanted to wake up and make sure Emerson was alright. I didn't give a shit about Murtagh, even if he had been wrestling a dragon before the dream had shifted. Wrestling a dragon for me, no less. I don't care; I want to see Emerson.

The images were recycling themselves, stuck on a constant loop. The woman, the man dying on the steps. I screamed into the oblivion, trying to force the image to break into a thousand pieces. It's my dream, isn't it? Shouldn't I be able to control it?

The dark figures overlooking the lake flashed and I tried desperately to see who they were. This certain image was the most confusing, even if the one with the dead man was the… most worrisome. I had to remember to ask Murtagh who that man was, why he'd been killed, and most importantly why he was haunting my dreams.

I kicked in midair, still trying to break the picture or wake myself up. "NO!"

"Liaden, Liaden, shh," Murtagh's deep voice permeated into my brain, waking me up slowly and gently. I would have relaxed, and probably forgotten why I was freaking out in the first place, if my natural instinct at that moment was to smack Murtagh in the face.

For a second, as I realized what had happened and who I was with, I laid in bed, my eyes open and trying to decide what to start screaming at him first. "GET OUT!" Seriously, there's nothing alright with him still waking me up; I don't want him in my bedroom ever or, when I'm not in my bedroom, within a few feet of me.

"Liaden," Murtagh stuttered, "Liaden, I'm waking you up for breakfast; you have to get up."

What Murtagh doesn't know is that before I got up so I could get to Emerson, and then I woke up so I could see Murtagh; now I have no reason and I'm no longer a morning person. No bacon and eggs, no sausage or biscuits; just sleeping 'til noon. "I'm not going to breakfast anymore, Murtagh! And you're not waking me up – no one is going to wake me up!"

You might want to calm down, child, before you say something you'll regret.

I shook my head in response to my dragon's advice, I won't ever regret this. "So get out of my room and stop interfering with my life!"

You might regret that later, when he's giving you your lesson. I bit my lip as Murtagh, his face as unreadable as it had been when I first got there, stood and turned, the armor he was always wearing clinking lightly as he took three long strides and slammed my door behind him. I flinched as the obnoxious sound filled my room before rolling onto my side grumpily.

Maybe he'll just leave me be during my lessons, I retorted, cuddling into my pillow and deciding to sleep in spite of the fact that I felt more awake than I usually do when I have a reason to get up, Maybe he won't even make me go; you and Thorn can fly around and fight while I star-gaze or practice flying. I closed my eyes, trying to sleep before an intense longing flooded through me, familiar but foreign. What's wrong, Emerson?

I just wish I could… the thought broke off, leaving me feeling awkward and a little scared, Nothing, nothing at all. Have a nice time sleeping in. I shook my head into the pillow, snuggling into its warmth and smiling. I haven't slept in in… ages.

I groaned as I rolled around in my bed; how is it that in my three hours I've spent in bed, I have been able to sleep for a total of maybe twenty minutes? Don't ask how I know three hours; I've been listening to the goings ons around me much too closely. I wonder if I'm sick. That'd be irony; I'm sick so I can't sleep and am not tired. But if I'm sick I'm also not allowed to go to a lesson tonight.

Out of what seemed like nowhere, a deep roar echoed through the castle. I jumped literally out of bed, managing to barely land on my feet thanks to my awesome Dragon Rider reflexes. My mind shot to Emerson, You alright?

It was Thorn; we might want to consider leaving. I nodded, straightening and starting towards the door. Before I could get across the room, though, Murtagh was in my door, visibly shaken and almost alarmed. His eyes were wide, a little scared, and very horrifying for me. What could he be scared of? And, nearly as important but somehow not as disconcerting as it should have been, did it mean that he suddenly didn't trust me again?

"What, Murtagh?" I backed away slowly, my hands grasping for anything to defend myself with. His eyes widened impossibly before focusing back on me, as if he could see the way my heart was beating faster with fear and anticipation of attack. But then… then the aggressiveness about him receded and he just looked scared. I shouldn't have, but I softened, "Are you alright?"

Murtagh's eyes focused and refocused, looking odd in the flickering firelight. I gulped, still halfheartedly looking for something to defend myself with. "I… Thorn…" He flinched, and for a moment Murtagh's mind almost threw an image at me before retracting fearfully. "Aw, hell…"

Murtagh took a few large steps towards me, resulting in his arms wrapping around me and his intentions horrifyingly clear. He was going to kiss me again.

Somehow, my mind won out over my body and, more miraculously, I was able to stave off Murtagh long enough to say no. And not just say no, but shriek it painfully into his head. Murtagh paused, his head a few awkwardly maddening inches away from mine, "I lied, alright Liaden? I… I didn't tell you everything last night, alright?"

"Wha- get off!" Of course, it wasn't like Murtagh was wrestling with me. No, my hands were pushed very firmly against his chest, which would've done nothing if Murtagh was actually intent on just kissing me.

"Liaden, please, I…" Murtagh's breath blew out, smacking me in the face and letting the minty smell almost seriously assault me. "I want to keep you here for myself because I don't want to have to not see you… every day… for three meals and little random other bits of time."

I felt physically ill at what Murtagh was saying and strangely empty since at some point Emerson had literally left me. "Wh… Huh?"

"I'm not alright with you leaving at all in the foreseeable future."

Why he is he using such big words?! "I…" None of this seemed… like Murtagh. I'm slowly starting to believe that Thorn took over his body for fun. Cruel, angry dragon fun. "Wha-who?" I'll attribute that little wanna-be question to the fact that way too many questions are flooding my entire being right now to ask just one.

"I want to do this," Murtagh all but shouted in my face before leaning down and melding his lips into my own. This time, I had absolutely no choice in the matter – both mind and body threw itself completely into the kiss, resulting in quite a few reactions I'd hoped were out of my system after the last kiss.

Apparently not.

I know I'm not the best for you but promise that you'll stay
Cause if I watch you go, you'll see me wasting, you'll see me wasting away
Cause today you walked out of my life; cause today your words cut like a knife
I'm not living this life
Goodbyes are meant for lonely people standing in the rain
And no matter where I go it's always pouring all the same
These streets are filled with memories, both perfecta and in pain
And all I wanna do is love you, but I'm the only one to blame

Like a Knife by Secondhand Serenade