CHAPTER SIX: I'll Show You A Monster

"It's in your eyes, what's on your mind.

I see the truth that you've buried inside.

It's in your eyes, what's on your mind.

There is no mercy, just anger I find."

- A Dangerous Mind, Within Temptation

Ashen's eyes snapped open. The first thing she noticed when she sat up and glanced around her was that she wasn't in a cell. Well, that was – unexpected. She thought she'd been captured by Murtagh. Shouldn't she be in a dungeon by now?

The room she was in wasn't a spectacular one, but it was better than a cell. It was fairly small. Her bed was shunted in the corner and there was a wardrobe on the other side, along with a small washbasin. Everything in the room was basic and if she had to guess, this was had once been a servant's quarters…not that she minded.

"You're awake."

Ashen saw Murtagh sitting on the end of her bed and nearly jumped out of her skin. How had he got in here so quickly? She pushed herself as far away from him as possible, which made him frown.

"I'm not going to hurt you."

Ashen's eyes narrowed. She knew why Murtagh had brought her here…wherever 'here' was. Most likely Uru'baen. For Galbatorix to gain Tristan, her brother would have to truly believe she was in danger. She highly suspected that this involved torture.

"Then what use am I?" she asked of him, folding her arms across her chest, "I'm not a fool, Murtagh. I know you need me to get to Tristan."

Ashen jumped off the bed and crossed to the washbasin, and glanced into the spotted mirror, pretending to examine her reflection. In reality, she was watching Murtagh carefully. How much had he changed from the boy she'd been in love with?

Murtagh ran his hands through his dark hair. How was he supposed to explain his predicament to Ashen?

"I know what you're doing," Ashen glared at him in the mirror, "You're trying to get me to trust you. I know what's going to happen to me. The same thing that happened to Colton."

Murtagh got up off the bed. Why couldn't Ashen see that he wasn't going to harm her?

"I'm not evil," he protested.

She whirled around, her dark blue eyes gleaming with anger.

"Don't act as though you're an innocent," she snarled at him, her hands clenching into fists, "You killed Hrothgar. You've killed countless Varden soldiers. You haven't shown any mercy before."

Murtagh's countenance darkened and a nerve twitched in his cheek. He was starting to get angry, but Ashen no longer cared. If he lashed out at her, it would only be proving what she'd said all along. She didn't know who this Rider was, but he wasn't the Murtagh she'd met at Farthen Dur and fallen for.

"Don't try me, Ashen." His tone was dangerous.

"I'm not scared of you," she snapped. She hated the Empire with a passion. She had believed Murtagh to be a tortured young man, but now she wasn't so sure. He'd captured her despite her protest. Did he have no heart? Her opinion of him was always changing and right now, he was everything she hated: a Rider who bowed to the king's wishes. A coward. "You're a monster."

Murtagh's temper snapped like an elastic band. Ashen could never understand the demons he faced. This was what he couldn't stand: the look on her face like she was disgusted with what he'd become. He bared his teeth and grabbed her by the shoulders, slamming her against the wall.

"I'll show you a monster," he hissed, forcing her arms above her head and holding both of her wrists with one hand, a display of superior strength. Ashen struggled against him, grimacing at the bruising grip on her wrists, but he was far too strong.

His eyes, full of rage and bitterness, met hers. He was fully aware of how fragile she was, of how one wrong move could break her wrists. Murtagh was stronger than even he knew and it meant that he could not only overpower Ashen, but hurt her if he wasn't careful. He didn't want to hurt her. She'd been one of the only ones at the Varden who'd accepted him.
"Let go of me," seethed Ashen, thrashing in his grasp. He knew if she went on like this, she would get injured. Right now, he was so furious. She'd called him a monster. He wanted to shout at her. I am not a monster. But he realised he was already proving that he was what she claimed he was.

Then the red haze of anger vanished and Murtagh was appalled at himself. He released her and staggered backwards.

Ashen ruefully rubbed her wrists, glowering mistrustfully across at Murtagh. He really had changed.

"So I was right then," she challenged.

Murtagh shook his head fervently. "I just got so angry…I didn't mean to…" He sighed and hung his head in defeat, letting his dark hair flop into his eyes. "You can't understand what it's like, Ashen. Serving Galbatorix. I hate that man as much as I hated Morzan…"

He trailed off and shook his head. Despite the fact that he'd most likely bruised her wrists, Ashen felt her strong walls beginning to crumble around her. Who was Murtagh, really? She didn't think she'd ever really got the chance to find out, which was why she didn't know what to think of him right now.

"You want to know a real monster?" Murtagh asked her, advancing on her. He was over six feet tall, and despite the fact that she was of average height for a girl her age, he towered over her. "There is a magician named Zander who was the one to torture me when I came here. I will never forget what he did to me. Do you know what he said just before I went out to catch you?"

Ashen remained silent. She wasn't sure she wanted to know.

"He asked me for you." Murtagh's voice was hoarse and his tone was filled with suppressed emotions. "He would have tortured you into insanity, Ashen. Is that what you want? Would you have preferred that I'd handed you over to a monster like him?"

Ashen licked her dry lips. "So what are you supposed to do with me? Just keep me locked away until my brother comes for me? He's somewhere Galbatorix will never find him. It would be months before he even knew I was gone."

Murtagh wasn't sure what to say to this. Despite the fact that he'd captured Ashen, he could already tell that their relationship was not just one of the captor and the captive. It was far more complicated than that. In a way, Murtagh was almost glad Ashen was here…but that was selfish of him, especially when he knew that Galbatorix would expect him to torture the girl. Not that he'd admit that to Ashen.

Murtagh headed towards the door, still not having answered Ashen's questions. He didn't know whether he could right now. He just needed to get himself sorted out.

Thorn, why am I always so conflicted?

You can't help what Galbatorix has done to us. It's natural that you don't want to hurt Ashen, just like you don't want to hurt Eragon.

The only difference was that Eragon was still playing the hero in the Varden, while he held Ashen prisoner here in Uru'baen. What would he do if Galbatorix tried to force him to torture her? Her pain would affect Tristan. Siblings shared a strong bond.

Ashen watched him as he left the room. Now she was by herself. She sat down hard on her bed, examining her bruised wrists and thinking. Sooner or later, everything was going to build up and then explode in an inferno. Murtagh clearly didn't relish the thought of torturing her…but they both knew it was only a matter of time before Galbatorix charged him with hurting Ashen.

PARAGRAPH

A timid knock on the door alerted Murtagh to the fact that he was no longer alone. He crossed his quarters, expecting Ajihad or Eragon. Instead he found himself looking upon a blonde girl of around fifteen, who flushed and folded her arms.

"I'm sorry if I disturbed you."

Murtagh recognised her. When he'd first come in with Eragon, she'd been crying wretchedly, embracing a boy a little younger than Murtagh who he assumed was her brother. He didn't know why she'd been crying, and it would be rude to ask.

"No, that's alright." Murtagh opened the door a little wider. "Come in."

The girl walked in and looked around in wonder, before turning to face Murtagh with an amused expression on her face.

"I think it's probably even bigger than my room."

Murtagh had no doubt that despite her young age, this girl was a hardened warrior. Did she know who she'd chosen to associate with? Almost everyone else in the Varden was avoiding him like the plague because he was Morzan's son. He cleared his throat, unwilling to scare her away but knowing she deserved the truth.

"You do know that I'm Morzan's son?"

The girl shrugged as if it was of no consequence, which surprised him.

"So what? Your name's Murtagh, isn't it?"

He nodded, still unable to believe the fact that she didn't care who he was. The expression on her face was so full of awe, almost excitement…yet he knew she wasn't the innocent, carefree girl she appeared to be. She smiled.

"I'm Ashen, by the way."

Murtagh cleared his throat. "When I first came…you were upset."

He didn't ask why. He left the implications hanging. Ashen could just ignore it if she wanted. The happiness disappeared from her face and he instantly regretted upsetting her. She gnawed at her lip.

"My…my brother," she stammered, "My eldest brother, Colton. He helped out with Saphira's egg a lot and…Durza captured him just before he ambushed Arya. He tortured him to death."

Ashen hung her head and Murtagh immediately understood her pain. He'd seen the same sort of agony in Eragon's eyes when Eragon had lost Brom. He wanted to tell her it was alright, but it wasn't. He wanted to comfort her somehow, but he'd only just met her.

"I'm sorry for your loss."

Ashen gave him a grim smile and he returned it with a humourless one of his own. Murtagh liked this girl. He liked how she was willing to put aside his past, as people so much older than her didn't want to do. Ashen was different. Murtagh was a person who was had been shunned his whole life…and now this girl actually accepted him.

PARAGRAPH

Tristan was astonished at first when Delia didn't present him to Islanzadi. However, the elf quickly assured him that it wasn't necessary – she was training him in private. He was to be the Varden's secret weapon. Not even the queen of the elves had the right to know that he was in Du Weldenvarden.

Delia pointed out a small house set amidst the top of the trees, with a roost big enough for a full-grown dragon. Fafnir flitted upwards and observed the tree-house with his all-seeing green eyes.

This is spectacular, Tristan!

"That is where you two will be staying," Delia said, a wry smile on her face as she observed the pleased reactions of both Rider and dragon, "During your training, it would be ill-advised for you to seek out the elves, apart from on celebration days such the annual Midsummer Celebration. I promised Nasuada that I would keep you as isolated as possible."

To Tristan, Delia didn't seem the sort to tie herself down. She seemed free-spirited and quirky, the sort of elf who didn't really associate with others. Perhaps this was why she shared a strong bond with Arya, who had separated herself from her people for many years.

Delia looked up suddenly, tensing. Her violet eyes widened slightly and then suddenly, the trees were whispering and Tristan found himself glancing around, wondering what was happening. The trees here were spaced a fair distance apart...and for good reason. Tristan couldn't believe what was happening as he heard the familiar sound of powerful wing beats…and then a mighty purple dragon landed in front of them.

Nasuada's face was a tight mask as she observed Eragon on Saphira's back. She was reluctant to let the young Rider leave Surda. If Galbatorix attacked again, they would be rendered helpless. No Eragon, and no Tristan. Her heart sank, but she tried to keep up her brave mask. She didn't control what Eragon did. She'd like to think she did, but in reality, he was a Rider. There was no restraining him.

"How long will you be gone?" she asked, trying to hide her concern.

Eragon shrugged. He didn't know any better than Nasuada did. There were things he and Saphira had to do. So many things. If they were successful, they might have a better chance at defeating Galbatorix.

"I am not sure. But I swear you an oath: when I am done, here is the first place I will come."

Nasuada nodded, pleased by this. She hadn't been the only one who'd come to see Eragon off – Arya, Roran, even Katrina. Roran was looking up at his cousin with a mixture of pride and chagrin. He didn't want Eragon to leave. None of them did.

"May your sword stay sharp," he called over to Eragon, who turned in his saddle and offered Roran a sad smile.
They'd decided on a quiet ceremony, just a small farewell party. Nasuada didn't want Galbatorix gaining word that Eragon had left the Varden. There would be spies in Surda and she didn't want them to find out about this. In time, the truth would be exposed. But not now.

"Take care, Eragon." Arya's voice was quiet and she offered him a gentle smile. "Know our thoughts and hopes go with you."

Eragon nodded, swallowing hard. It was hard for him to leave the Varden. He placed his hand on Saphira's back and felt her support.

You know we can do this, Eragon. Be strong.

With that, she launched herself into the air and disappeared in the night sky amongst the clouds and the stars.

When they were out of sight, Arya sighed heavily and turned to face Nasuada. Katrina and Roran were already walking back towards the city, hand in hand. The elf's eyes were dark and grim.

"I didn't want to say anything in front of Eragon," confessed Arya, "I knew he would want to stay, but…"

There was something haunted in her gaze and Nasuada just wanted to grip her by the shoulders and shake her as a cold thrill of fear came over her.

"But what, Arya?"

"There are rumours of a Shade in the east."