And I revised Chapter One and added flashbacks, for any who wanted more details. 4-13-2011

An Enemy's Heart

A/Note: I feel stupid saying this, but... I am not CP, nor do I own the idea for this story. Everything belongs to either CP or LOTRRanger from her beautiful story Overcome.

Also I revised Chapter One and added flashbacks, for any who wanted more details.

Chapter two: A Place to Rest

The crowd had parted easily before him as he strode through the encampment almost as if he belonged. But nothing could ease the tension that existed, surrounding the red rider wherever he went. It was as if his curse followed him every step of his life, but at least it was a curse that he was used to carrying. What he was not used to was the guilt that he had earned with his own deeds under the direction of the dark king. Always before, he had the knowledge that he had done nothing to earn the hatred of those who scorned him, and this knowledge allowed him to hold his head high, and clutch at the knowledge that he was a good man... that he could still be a good man in spite of everyone else's opinions. But now that illusion was shattered. All he could do now was try to be the best monster that his newfound freedom allowed him to be.

After visiting the 'prison' tent to gather his meager belongings, Murtagh made a beeline to a location the edge of the Varden perimeter that surrounded Feinster. There the red rider spoke a spell of protection on a small unused section of rocky ground. This area would be where he and Thorn would rest. It held little else but rocks, sand, dirt, and a few sparse weeds, so there was minimal chance that it would be of interest to anyone with its barren features. Having spotted it days earlier with his dragon's vision, Murtagh had decided that should the unbelievable happen, and their presence be accepted by the Varden, that this particular location would suit their needs... minimally anyways.

The son of Morzan glanced around at his colorless and lifeless choice. The ground within the protective spell was easily a span of a one hundred yard circumference stretching out away from the city. On the far side a slight incline rose, topped with an outcropping of rocks. If there were three bushes growing on the whole thing, Murtagh would have been surprised. This place seemed as unwanted as he himself was. Mutagh sighed, accepting the inevitable. It would do.

High above a ruby dragon circled the forlorn site, and did his best not to hassle his brooding rider. Even if Murtagh was planning on playing the 'Varden hermit,' he at least had succeeded in getting them a second chance, and Thorn couldn't have been more pleased. Even the appearance of gawkers along the perimeter did nothing to deter the dragon's happiness.

Nice location my fierce one, Thorn smirked as he glided overhead. He noticed the visual boundary between the Varden encampment and the red rider's patch of confiscated scrubland. Why did you mark the edge of your claim? Not hoping to attract neighbors?

Murtagh shot an irritable look up at his trying friend, and then let his eyes drop to scan the handful of intent bystanders. A few brave idiots had decided to make the red pair feel 'really welcome' with their suspicious glares. They were the reason for the red rider's caution. Many here would dearly love to take his life and Thorn's, in spite of the counsel's decision.

Yes. He had marked the area clearly. And as desolate as it had looked before the spell, now it was even less inviting. The affected ground took on an ashy grey color... or lack of color. It was a clear message that spoke of warning and ill wyrda to any who might cross into it.

Murtagh, the dragon began quietly observing everything as he circled, do you wish to push away all, whether they wish you ill or not?

It's not like that Thorn. We have to be careful.

Until this moment, even Murtagh had not considered just how much risk they were taking in their efforts to join forces with the rebels. They were literally sleeping amidst the enemy. Since for the past week the pair had been under guard, their only fear was that they would be sentenced to execution. If indeed this had been the outcome, the red pair had planned to escape. But what they were facing now was even more dangerous. Now that they were technically allies, they were within easy reach of their new 'colleagues,' as well as any self appointed assassins. The pair had actually been safer when they were under arrest.

Well, I don't know about you Thorn, but I need to find something to distract me before I take one of these fools apart with my bare hands.

Unable to stand the thought of enduring the continued stares all afternoon, Murtagh made his way along the outskirts of the community, trying and failing to be inconspicuous. He just needed a place where he could escape from the prying eyes that seemed to follow him wherever he went. His search did not seem to be going well until he noticed something of interest... a tavern.

.

Thorn watched his rider move in the general direction of the two-leggeds' and their stick dwellings, and he smiled. It made sense to him that Murtagh should find his way among his own kind. It never even occurred to the dragon that his chosen might need assistance. Murtagh had always been very self reliant, and Thorn had the utmost faith in his rider's capabilities.

With a tilt of his wings that caught the crosswinds, Thorn angled his flight towards the southwest and the sea. The ruby scaled dragon had an idea... and a taste for seafood. It wasn't far at all by wing, and in no time he found himself soaring over sparkling waves in his own search for a salty meal. He was only half paying attention though, as a sapphire flash on the horizon indicated that he was not the only hunter in the skies...

Thorn smiled to himself as he considered that the blue female was likely still keeping an eye on him. He was so amused at the possibility that he almost missed the large-finned soft-scaled swimmer that passed just below him as he skimmed over the waves. If it hadn't been for the shimmering reflection of the sunlight on scales, the meal would have been lost. But the light caught the vermillion eyes, and in a flash the red flyer transformed himself into a striking-diver-swimmer. Beneath the waves Thorn's graceful movement's darted through the cool waters, in a brief competition, a race with the large fish for freedom, or for food. With a burst of speed and a snap of his jaws, Thorn's efforts were rewarded with a rather filling and delicious dinner.

The ruby dragon rose to the surface of the waves, and floated there comfortably, bobbing ruby red in the sparkling vast blue of the southern sea. The dragon slowly savored his large catch, all the while, completely unfazed by the presence of the azure dragoness that circled off in the distance.

.

The stealthy figure had entered the building from the back alley, and found a dark corner that promised at least a moment of peace. The gold coin that he'd stoically passed to the bartender bought him more than just a pint of dwarven ale. It had also bought him a fellow conspirator. The gold made Murtagh a welcome patron to the establishment, but neither he nor the proprietor had wanted the rider's presence to be discovered, and hence a common purpose of discretion had created an unspoken agreement between the two.

Hours later, the fugetive in the dark corner was finally starting to feel comfortable. His second pint was still mostly full, for his main purpose for being there was to avoid prying eyes and escape the heat of the afternoon sun. The only other customers in the bar were pretty much ignoring his presence, if they were even aware of him at all.

Running his hands tiredly across his face, Murtagh quietly sighed. He was emotionally exhausted and completely uncertain about how this unexpected turn of events would ultimately resolve. In his heart, the red rider had not expected to be received... neither well nor otherwise. He had been as stunned as the crowd had been at the announcement of his trial acceptance. How his brother had managed to convince the counsel, he had no idea. But he had to give the blue rider credit. Eragon must be more influential than he figured.

It had only been a moment of distraction, but it was enough for him to be taken completely by surprise. His head shot up with a snarl as he felt the soft brush of a female hand against the nape of his neck. With lightning fast reflexes, the rider caught her hand in an iron grip, and tore it from his person. Cursing under his breath, he realized that the woman he was restraining was actually amused rather than frightened, as her sultry chuckle confirmed.

She must have come in from behind... entered from the alleyway just as he had. This was proof of his own deficiency in the matter of his defenses, and he vowed to correct that flaw at the first opportune moment. As Murtagh took in the females smiling visage, the angry snarl drained from his expression leaving only a veneer of cold distrust on his face.

It didn't matter that she was lovely. Her blonde hair cascaded over her shoulders and hung framing her intentionally revealing bodice, and he couldn't help noticing. Raising his eyes again to focus on her attractive face, startled him anew. Her eyes were alight with amusement and invitation, and as she observed his natural reactions to her subtle provocative air, an almost smug smile tugged at her perfect lips. This wasn't the reason he was startled, though it almost made him forget why. He had seen this woman before. He couldn't place her at the moment, but the familiarity he sensed was undeniable.

"Sorry if I scared you love," she spoke easily, her rich voice matching her looks and welcoming manner. "I couldn't help wanting to join you..." And here her hand slipped over his, feeling like satin against his callouses. The slight hesitation she had at touching his hand was swallowed up in the way she boldly brushed her body against his as she took her seat next to him on the wooden bench. "When I spotted you over here, you looked so alone... and a man shouldn't have to drink alone... shouldn't have to be alone..."

The woman's tactics were having an effect on the red rider, there was no denying that. But the sheer incredulity of the event was enough to make him wary... very wary. There was too great a conflict between the aversion Murtagh was used to receiving, and the comfort this woman was now offering. It was irreconcilable. Besides that, it didn't feel right on any level.

This lovely vision was obviously a very good manipulator, and the red rider had been exposed to enough manipulation to last several lifetimes. This time Murtagh had no intention of being manipulated. Removing his hand from hers, he made to take hold of his drink. His slow movements allowed him time to clear his mind, and compose a graceful withdrawal.

"While I appreciate your concern, I must advise you that my entire reason for being in this dark corner is to find a place where I can be alone. So, if you are seeking company, you will no doubt do better looking elsewhere."

For whatever reason the woman seemed completely undeterred. Her laughter spilled over him like chimes, as if she had some great secret that she just couldn't contain.

"I have an even better idea. Let's combine your desires with mine..." The pause she gave was followed by a sly smile betraying her double meaning, and she laughed lightly again. "Your desire to be alone, and mine to be in your company... I happen to know of a room upstairs. It is perfect for our needs, and we can become better acquainted... away from prying eyes..."

As her hand slid up his arm towards his shoulder, something inside Murtagh snapped. The tense heat that she had fanned between them, combined with the rider's irritation at having his precious solitude stolen, erupted into seething anger. Snatching the woman's hand in his own, Murtagh held it between them like a shield. His grey eyes flashed red with barely controlled rage, but the moment was brief, as Murtagh's emotions quickly cooled to a mere level of imperturbable hatred.

"Leave... me... alone..." he hissed through clenched teeth and he released the woman's arm.

The woman's expression faltered for a split second, and then hardened to match his own.

"You won't harm me," the woman practically purred, "so don't try acting all threatening. You know as well as I do, that at the first sign of any aggression on your part, the whole Varden will turn on you. Face the facts son of Morzan... You need all the help you can get... help that I can give you..."

Murtagh couldn't help but laugh under his breath. The brazen and lustful advances of this female, as well as her ludicrous intention of intimidating him into accepting her offer, coupled with her complete naiveté with regards to what the red rider was capable, made the whole situation ironic at best. His next words left him feeling no remorse whatsoever.

"I see," he said choosing his words carefully and speaking low enough not to be overheard. "You may think yourself clever and bold, but I'm afraid that you are mistaken to think that I need anything you can give. I have all the help that I could want. And you are also mistaken to think that you could pose any threat to me... While I would never harm you, I must give you fair warning... you see, dragons do get hungry on occasion, and people do disappear if they're not careful where they tread... So I suggest that you walk with care, and find another game to play, because I am not interested... at all."

At the flash of outrage on the woman's face, Murtagh suddenly remembered why this female seemed so familiar to him. He had seen her a week earlier. She had been at the forefront of an angry mob of shouting rebels that met and surrounded both him and Thorn as they were escorted by Eragon into Feinster under heavy guard. He couldn't recall the slew of vile curses she had flung at him as he moved past her, but he did recall that she had spat on him with disgust. And now here she was, only a week later trying to seduce him?

Recognition showed in the woman's face as she realized that the rider recalled the incident. Her indignation took a back seat to momentary mortification, and then the revulsion that he had first witnessed returned to dominate her expression. Only this time it was tainted with a trace of fear. After all, this was the son of Morzan who had just vaguely insinuated that his dragon might make a meal of her. She turned and quickly left the tavern, and for once in his life, Murtagh found a benefit to being born the son of the monster. Drawing in a long breath, he leaned back with a heavy sigh.

I could really use a drink, Murtagh thought lifting his mug to his lips to take a much desired draught. His gaze rose as his drink had, and that was when he spotted his brother's eyes boring into his from across the bar. Surprise caused him to catch his breath, which caused him to choke on his swallow. It seemed that today nothing was going to come easy.

A/N: Oh, and did you all see that WSS's "Edoc'sil" posted two new chappies?... I love FanFiction... :D