CHAPTER THREE: Of Riders

A/N: Thank you so much to everyone who has reviewed so far! I can promise you that this isn't going to be your typical Murtagh/OC story.

"You're not alone, together we stand

I'll be by your side, you know I'll take your hand.

When it gets cold, and it feels like the end

There's no place to go, you know I won't give in."

- Keep Holding On, Avril Lavigne

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The Shade whirled around to see the interruption – a small soldier. A helmet covered the boy's face, but by his stature alone, Durza knew that he must have been very young. He gripped his sword tightly in armoured hands and there was something about his posture that indicated he wasn't about to back down. Durza struck out, his sword slamming against the boy's with jarring force. The boy yelled in pain and stumbled backwards. It wouldn't be a surprise if his arm was broken.

Durza expected him to turn and run. So it was a shock to him when the boy roared in anger and charged at him once more. The Shade used his fist and slammed it in the side of the boy's head. He staggered backwards, wheeling, and his helmet fell to the ground…and Durza was astonished once more.

It was the long, golden blonde hair that was his first indicator. When he looked upon the soldier's face, he knew for certain. No boy this, but a girl of around fifteen years old, a vengeful fire burning in her dark eyes. She bared her teeth at the Shade and he realised why she was vaguely familiar. He'd seen her before when he'd broken into Colton's mind.

Ashen.

"You killed my brother," she spat at him, her tone one of utmost loathing.

"I did," Durza confessed, "You're next."

Stupid little girl. She really thought she could fight him? Even most elves were not as strong as Durza and now he was hounded by this child. He wasn't supposed to be here. He was meant to find Eragon and capture him. Overcome by a wave of impatience, Durza lunged, his sword slashing down Ashen's cheek. She cried out in pain and clapped a hand to her face as the blood started to well there.

He lifted his sword and made to strike her again, this time to kill, but an arrow hit him in the arm and he dropped it quickly. Ashen whirled around, expecting to see Tristan…instead she found herself looking upon Murtagh. He was glaring at Durza as Ashen ran towards him, extremely grateful for the interruption.

"Thank you," she said, offering him a smile, "You saved my life."

Durza had already turned away and was walking in the opposite direction, cutting down Varden soldiers as he went. Clearly, Ashen was of little interest to him. Murtagh lowered his bow, watching the Shade go.

"He's the one that killed your brother?"

Ashen gulped and nodded, the memory of Colton's death too painful. She hadn't seen it with her own eyes, yet the details had been enough to reduce even Tristan to tears. How she wanted to drive her sword through Durza's heart…but she couldn't. Because he would tear her apart.

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Ashen's eyes fluttered open. Everything was quiet and judging by the darkness, it was still night. Of course, this wasn't new to Ashen – she had trouble sleeping at night. She had ever since Colton's death, but now that she and Tristan had stolen a dragon egg it was worse. Ashen was afraid that she'd be dragged out into the night, kicking and screaming…

She shuddered. It wasn't a pleasant though, especially when it was still dark. Things seemed less frightening in the light of day. Out on the balcony, Tristan turned and offered her a rueful smile.

"Can't sleep either?"

It had only been a few days since they'd stolen the dragon egg. Neither Ashen nor Tristan could let go of their fear that the Empire would hunt them down and reclaim the egg. The sooner Arya took it to Du Weldenvarden, the happier they'd be.

Ashen nodded, clambering out of bed and walking over to join her brother at the balcony. Down below, Eragon was pacing almost agitatedly. Ashen couldn't quite suppress a smile. So they were all insomniacs, then. All of them feeling that this was just the calm before the storm.

"I'd very much like to see the egg again." Tristan sounded wistful. "It's just…it's so beautiful. Such a lovely emerald green."

There was a hint of something a bit like greed in her brother's voice. Ashen eyed him suspiciously. He seemed to realise and turned to offer his younger sister a slight smile as he ruffled her hair affectionately.

"I think it likely you'll turn out to be the next Rider." There was no jealousy in his voice; clearly being a Rider didn't appeal to him any more than it did to Ashen. She shook her head slowly.

"Very funny, Tristan."

Her older brother's expression was deadly serious and Ashen was forced to look away. What if she really was the next Rider? She knew the dangers she'd face. She'd be Eragon's ally, Murtagh's enemy. The green egg was male. Galbatorix would have no need of her. If she stood against him, she'd be killed.

"I really hope not."

"I know where it is," Tristan said almost eagerly, "We should go and see it…just one last time, before it's taken to Du Weldenvarden…"

Ashen shook her head. "I don't think that's such a good idea, Tristan."

Tristan frowned almost petulantly. "Come on, Ash. I've never really had a good look at it before. We stole it. I think we're entitled to take a look at it."

Ashen gnawed at her lip. She didn't know why her brother was so interested in the egg. After having carried it all the way from Uru'baen, Ashen didn't think she ever wanted to see it again, especially knowing what trouble it brought with it.

"Aye."

They stole down the corridors. The egg was under guard by Du Vrangr Gata at all times. The two magicians standing guard outside the room stood to attention when they heard footsteps, but like most members of the Varden, they knew Tristan and Ashen.

"What are you two doing here?" The older one, named Derrick, sounded more relieved than anything. "How may I help you?"

Tristan glanced at Ashen, who shrugged. This had been his idea. She wasn't going to bail him out.

"We wanted to see the egg one last time, if that's alright."

Derrick nodded and muttered something under his breath in the ancient language. He turned back to face Ashen and Tristan and nodded.

"You can go in now. Don't be too long."

Derrick closed the door behind them. Tristan went over to the green egg, a look of awe on his face as he picked it up and cradled it almost reverently, as if it was his first-born child. After a few moments, he turned and held the egg out to Ashen. She shook her head vigorously. She wanted nothing more to do with this.

"No, Tristan. I don't want to hold it."

Tristan's eyes were gleaming. "Ashen, you might be the next Rider! Just give it a go."

He offered the egg to her again. Ashen's eyes narrowed. What didn't her brother understand? She folded her arms and glared.

"I said no."

Tristan frowned. "Don't be stupid, Ashen."

He shoved the egg at her so that she was forced to unfold her arms and catch it quickly. She just as hurriedly pushed it back towards her brother. For a young man of eighteen, he could be really immature sometimes.

"Stop it, Tristan. You're being an idiot."

Tristan sighed heavily. In his opinion, it was Ashen being foolish. He had a suspicion that she was the next Rider. That was the reason he'd really wanted to come down and 'take a look' at the egg. That way it would probably hatch for her.

"Please, Ashen."

She wasn't going to be persuaded by him. As he pushed the egg at her again, she pushed it right back. This continued for some time and if Ashen wasn't so annoyed, the situation might have been comical.

"Give it up. I've already told you I don't want to hold it. Why can't you just leave it?" snapped Ashen.

"You're being immature," retorted Tristan.

As he pushed the egg at Ashen, she stepped back and so the egg fell to the ground with a dull THUNK. Ashen glanced down at the egg in concern. There was a crack on the surface. She glowered at her brother.

"Now look what you've done! You're so stupid sometimes, Tristan…"

She would have continued to berate him, but there was a strange noise and they both fell silent, staring down at the green egg on the ground. Another crack had appeared in its smooth surface. Ashen was overcome by a wave of dread as she realised that the egg hadn't cracked from the impact of hitting the ground. It was hatching.

Tristan looked triumphant. "I told you so, Ashen. It's your dragon."

Ashen shook her head, refusing to believe it. "It could just as easily be yours. Besides, it's a he."

The dragon burst from the egg and examined its surrounding with a high-pitched sound of confusion. Tristan knelt down beside the creature with wonder in his eyes, as did Ashen. He nudged her.

"Touch him."

Ashen shook her head. "No way."

"We don't know whose dragon he is," Tristan replied irritably, trying to convince Ashen to touch the dragon by placating her, "So why don't you go first?"

Ashen was tired of arguing. She squeezed her eyes shut, then opened them and nodded. The little green dragon stared at her questioningly as she reached out her hand – and then Ashen found herself rocketing backwards, slamming into the opposite wall. Her head spun and as Ashen picked herself up off the ground, she knew in that instant that her brother was the Rider. Not her, Tristan.

"It's you," she whispered.

Tristan was already reaching for the little green dragon and in the moment he touched him, there was a flash of light and then Tristan was rolling on the ground, shouting in pain. Ashen raced to his side and realised that his hand was glowing slightly. Glowing with the mark of a Rider. The gedwey ignasia.

My brother.

"He's…he's my dragon," Tristan sounded shocked as he picked up the little green dragon, cradled him in his arms.

"What are you going to call him?" Ashen asked.

Tristan shook his head, looking down upon the small green dragon.

"I don't know, but we're going to have to try and explain this to the Varden now."

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Galbatorix could never quite work out whether it was lucky or unlucky now that he knew the green dragon had hatched for one of the Varden – one of the thieves, incidentally; the boy, Tristan. Zander had managed to discover this and report back to Galbatorix. While the king was not pleased at all that it was a member of the Varden, now he knew who the last Rider was, it would be relatively easy to capture the boy and bring him to Uru'baen.

He had summoned Murtagh to him. The boy inclined his head stiffly as he entered the king's throne room. Luckily Zander wasn't there. Galbatorix knew of the tension between the two of them.

"You are to find the boy named Tristan Reynaldsson," Galbatorix commanded, "I want him and his dragon alive. He may be an asset to us."

Recognition flashed through Murtagh's eyes, but he said nothing. Clearly he was a member of the Varden that Murtagh had associated with in the past.

"What about Eragon?" asked Murtagh in a tone that was hard to place.

Galbatorix shook his head. The youngest Rider he would worry about later. Eragon was more powerful than Tristan, much more. It would be easiest if they got the newest Rider first. Maybe then they might lure Eragon into their trap.

"Leave him for now. Focus on Tristan first."

Murtagh nodded, swallowing hard. Capturing Tristan wasn't an idea he relished. He didn't want another Rider to end up like him, conflicted and frustrated, imprisoned within themselves and unable to escape, hating themselves for what they had to do.

But that wasn't all…seeing Ashen again had made him question himself. Before, when they'd both been with the Varden under Farther Dur, they had been friends. Although Murtagh doubted that Ashen knew the truth…he'd fallen for her then.

He'd known it for sure during the battle when he'd defended her from Durza. The Shade had killed her brother, yet still she'd had the courage – and downright stupidity, admittedly – to confront him. But before he'd had the chance to confess how he felt, he'd been kidnapped by the Twins…and in Uru'baen, as he slowly lost himself, he let go of Ashen.

Now that he'd seen her again, he felt his old feelings stirring, despite his knowledge that the idea was stupid. Ashen would never love him now. He'd seen the look on her face. Did he still love her after all he'd been through?

Murtagh wasn't sure, but thoughts about his feelings for Ashen weren't exactly safe. He was out to capture her brother, after all. Not only that, but he didn't want Zander finding that in his head.

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After discovering that the green egg had hatched for Tristan, it had been talked about by the Varden for the past week. Tristan had eventually named the green dragon Fafnir, and Ashen could see that they were already starting to form the same telepathic bond that Eragon and Saphira shared. While Eragon was pleased that they had another Rider on their side, he also knew the danger this posed to Tristan and Fafnir.

Nasuada had decided to hold a meeting on the matter, to find out what should be done about the matter. In the meeting were Tristan, Fafnir, Saphira, Eragon, Arya and Nasuada. Already the rumours would have spread to Uru'baen. Action needed to be taken.

"He can't be trained," Arya admitted, "Oromis is dead. He must stay with the Varden."

"Fight it out?" Nasuada shook her head. "It's far too dangerous. He needs to learn to use magic, Arya."

Eragon stepped forward. "Perhaps I can teach him."

Nasuada glanced at Eragon. He was younger than Tristan. While she didn't doubt his ability, he still wasn't learned enough in the Rider ways to be able to teach Tristan, even though Eragon was all they had left. She sighed and shook her head vigorously.

"No, Eragon. Maybe a member of Du Vrangr Gata…"

"Perhaps I can help."

Everyone turned around at the smooth voice they didn't recognize. A red-haired girl had strode into the tent. She only appeared to be around Eragon's age, but on closer inspection, they could see the pointed tips of her ears, the wisdom in her violet eyes. An elf.

Arya smiled, clearly the only one present who knew the elf. "Delia Svit-kona. It has been years since I last saw you." The two must have been close, for Arya walked up to Delia and the two elves embraced.

She turned back to face the others, but the expression on her face was not a happy one. In fact, Arya looked troubled, as if she couldn't understand why Delia was here. None of the others had ever seen the red-haired elf before. If they had, Tristan thought, they'd definitely remember her. She was just as beautiful as Arya.

"I can help you," Delia said in her soft, smooth tone, "I have travelled far since I heard about this young Rider." Her gaze landed on Tristan and he flushed slightly. "I can train him. You, too."

She directed her last words at Fafnir. The young dragon was still small, barely up to Tristan's knees. He tilted his head to the side and observed Delia with interest.

"Delia, you don't have to…" Arya sounded despairing.

Delia shot Arya a searing look. This young elf must have been powerful or at least held a position of authority if she could give the elf princess a look like that.

"Arya, I've had enough. I'm not going to lie anymore. From now on, I'm going to tell the truth."