A/N: To help this chapter be less confusing, the following words are used interchangeably, brother, half-brother, and not-brother. The reason for the distinctions are to give indication of way that Eragon and Murtagh currently view each other.
Also I'd like to extend my HUGE thanks to my favorite beta: InkWeaverabc. It is probably thanks to her that this is readable at all.
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Chapter five: Simple Pleasures
In the dim light of the approaching sun, a pale stripe lit the horizon. Ever so slowly it grew to illuminate the land, allowing details to become more visible. Rocks, dirt and weeds were strewn across the ashen wasteland that rose to the west of the city, but little could be made of the red pair's location. The barren patch of land that the two had appropriated -without permission- showed no sign of them whatsoever. And as always in a tight knit community, there was some eager soul watching and ready to report his every move. 'Alerting the appropriate authorities' of unauthorized situations would be the gentler way to describe their actions, but either way it ended the same... as a matter to be brought before the Varden leader.
Why should this morning be any different from the others? Nasuada squeezed her eyes shut tight for a moment, resenting the muffled voices that called her to consciousness. She shouldn't be awake, but she was... and even with her eyes closed she could tell that the sun had not quite risen. Who could possibly need her at this hour?
"Please M'Lady... let me have entrance... I need to speak to you."
The female voice grew louder in spite of the guards urging her to keep her voice down, and even with the tent flaps closed, she could hear the struggle that was going on outside. Whoever this woman was that had awakened her, she was trying to press her way past the guards, and having very little luck.
"No you may not," Nasuada snapped loudly, trying to manage her anger over the loss. For this once she had hoped to enjoy a bit of extra much needed sleep. But now all her hopes were completely shattered.
"It is only barely morning, and there are official channels you can go through to schedule a meeting... and at a decent hour, I might add." The sharpness in the young leader's voice did nothing to deter the forward female from continuing her petition from the other side of the canvas.
"Please... you must see me now, M'Lady. For it is an urgent matter, otherwise I'd not have dreamed of disturbing you at such a time..."
Nasuada had pushed herself into a seated position even as the woman's voice pleaded, and she grasped her quilted robe from the end of her bed tugging it over her satin nightdress. It was one of the few simple pleasures that the Varden leader allowed herself. A soft bed, and pleasant sleepwear. When Ajihad's daughter finally did retire for the night, she wanted to get a good sleep. The day to follow would surely test her strength. Standing, Nasuada tied the sash around her trim waist and took a deep breath.
"Fine... Bring the woman in." Even if she agreed to see this person, she wasn't going to do so alone. What now? she asked herself silently.
The flap drew back and the Varden leader watched stoically as one of her Nighthawks brought the blond female into her private tent. She noticed with a slight sense of satisfaction that the escorted woman seemed none too comfortable with her forearm being gripped by an urgal.
"Thank you Khagra," she spoke trying to hide a small smile. "If you will kindly remain as you are until the lady is dismissed, I would be grateful."
The urgal nodded, and continued restraining the visitor who bravely shot him a scathing glance, before pulling herself back to the task at hand...
"The red rider has disappeared, M'Lady."
Nasuada's shock showed on her face. This she hadn't expected. Yet in her mind she registered several facts. There had been no word of warning from Eragon, whose job it was to manage the new arrivals. Also the leader recognized this woman from a report that Eragon had given her shortly after pledging his allegiance to her. This particular woman had been causing him some embarrassment, and making scenes in an attempt to secure the boy's affections. Nasuada's eyes narrowed suspiciously, as she scrutinized the woman.
"And what is your name?" the dark skinned leader asked changing the subject, and causing the other woman's face to reflect her dismay.
"Auksha... Auksha Vivasdaughter," the blonde said after a stiff hesitation, and she flourished a brief half-curtsy. Her free hand pulled her knit shaw over her shoulders concealing the brazen neckline of her dress.
"Auksha," Nasuada repeated, observing the woman's fair face. It seemed to express disdain rather than worry. Evidently she was more concerned with her warning being ignored, than she was actually troubled over the missing rider's whereabouts. And seeing this, Nasuada suspected that this woman was only there to stir up trouble.
"While I appreciate the enthusiasm you display in regards to the safety of the Varden, I have to assure you that the Shadeslayer is quite capable of monitoring the red rider. I ask that you kindly leave the duty of Murtagh's supervision to his capable hands."
Even as she spoke the words, she had a cloud of doubt cross her mind and her features. What if something had happened... as unlikely as it seemed. Nasuada debated in her mind with the idea of going make sure. If she did it would appear as if she did not trust the new addition to their ranks, but then she wasn't really sure that she did trust him. And the safety of the Varden was much more important than her image in the eyes of the son of Morzan. Nasuada looked up and released a long breath.
"Send a messenger to Eragon to inform him, and dispatch a guard to Murtagh's last known location to investigate this matter..."
The look of smug self-satisfaction that blossomed across the Auksha's flawless countenance did not go unnoticed by the young leader. Nor did the look remain with her for long.
"In fact Khagra, I would like for you to look into this yourself... Bring the female, as she seems to know where to start looking."
Nasuada had to fight back a smirk at the changed expression that now adorned the blonde's face... stunned, trapped and quite unhappy.
"And make sure to call for a replacement as you depart."
The Varden leader turned away in dismissal. She had to or she would have burst into a grin. The urgal kull tugged on the female's arm until they were outside of the tent, and then pressed his reluctant guide into leading the way to the scene of the so-called crime. The sounds of their retreat diminished until the only sign of her disturbed morning was the fact that she was in her robe and standing, rather than snuggled in her cozy bed.
Nasuada sighed deeply, knowing that there was no going back... not to her bed... and not on the fate of the enemy rider. Another sigh escaped her. She might as well dress and start her day. So much for simple pleasures...
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How could we have let this happen? Eragon lamented as he ran with elven speed towards the western flank of the encampment.
The messenger had awakened the rider from his-not-quite-sleep, even before he had arisen to perform the Rimgar. Every morning that he was able, he would get up early to greet the day and honor his masters. Though the effort was always a challenge, the act of working through the entire routine uninterrupted was one of his cherished simple pleasures.
Eragon had covertly placed a light ward around the entire area of Feinster to alert him to the straying of the ruby pair. It had successfully alerted him each time that the dragon had crossed it the day before, and he and Saphira had visually confirmed it each time. Even now he checked the spell as he rushed through the last section of tents... the ward was still intact and working... so what had gone wrong? It was infuriating to say the least.
How did they manage to evade my detection?
The blue blur of his dragon overtook him, reaching the warded site first, and circling overhead in search of any sign of their charges. Unfortunately, there was no trace of either dragon or rider, and the sapphire dragoness growled audibly as well as mentally through her link with her rider.
Don't worry Young One, she vowed confidently. We will find them... and when we do I'll rip every scale off the coward's hide... and every appendage off his traitorous rider.
Eragon rounded the last group of tents, bordering Murtagh's confiscated land. He had seen bits of the aerial visions that Saphira had sent him, but now he scanned the terrain from his vantage point on the ground. All he could see was scrubland... no tent... no dragon... no rider... But a moment later he noticed two things... The shape of the hill had been altered almost imperceptibly. It would never have been noticed from the air... And the other thing he noticed was that an urgal kull was leading a small guard up to the warded area escorting a human female held in his grasp. She appeared to be gesturing to the grey expanse of worthless property that was the target of his own investigation. If the woman was who he suspected, this whole affair was likely nothing but a stunt to antagonize his 'half-brother.'
Saphira, call out to Thorn, will you?
Understanding reached the dragoness through her link with Eragon, and though she could not yet figure how the enemy pair could be so well hidden, she trusted her rider's instincts utterly.
A wordless roar poured forth from her gaping jaw, accompanied by flame and smoke. It was a clear dragonic summons, wild, ancient and unmistakable.
Moments passed and nothing seemed to happen... But then a section of scrubland began to shimmer as if under a heated desert mirage. The effect was such that it was impossible to pinpoint the appearance of the dragon. He was suddenly there, emerging from the waning distortion and shaking the dust and sand from his back and wings.
The ruby dragon casually gazed up at the circling Saphira and roared a greeting as he pressed his great strength into an aerial leap.
Good morning dragon-of-my-rider's-brother... he greeted Saphira cheerfully with regained humor. It had taken much of the night and lots of reassurance from his rider to dispel the overwhelming guilt that had arisen from his previous conversation with the sapphire dragoness. But now he seemed back to his old annoying self.
So... tell me what brings you to my door so early in the morning. His words reflected a human style greeting, in contrast to her purely instinctive invitation, and the female wondered briefly if he had done so as an insult, or simply in jest.
With all eyes on the Thorn, no one seemed to notice the figure walking casually up to Eragon from behind.
"Can I help you, Shur'tugal?"
Eragon nearly jumped in surprise at the sudden appearance of the other rider. The snarl of irritation that seized his face actually made him look like a reflection of the man standing before him, and Murtagh's breath caught in his throat at the realization. They were undeniably brothers, whether either of them wanted to admit it or not. And the faces scowling back and forth at each other left no doubt.
The drawn out silence between them only punctuated the strain of their situation. Their conversation the night before had not ended well, and it was starting to appear that they might not have any better luck today. Brown eyes glared at cold grey, as each scrutinized the other... neither backing down.
"Just where exactly have you been?"
"Here," the elder answered evenly, nodding to indicate the warded land.
"Do you really think that hiding is the best way to elicit the trust of your new allies?" Eragon's tone was challenging if not a bit sarcastic, earning him a scowl in return.
"No, but it is the best way to survive the night while sleeping along side my new allies."
The young rider made to object, but Murtagh interjected before he was able.
"Look Eragon... I will NOT risk the safety of my dragon. I will not make myself an easy target for whoever might find reason to object to my presence. And I will not give up my freedom so soon after attaining it... This is not an accusation against the Varden, though I do have adequate reason to believe that there are those among your ranks that would love to end my life. But who knows whether a spy of the empire might see fit to please the king with my death... No, I will not give up the small security that I am able to erect for myself and my dragon."
Murtagh's expression was granite, his intentions immovable. And Eragon grudgingly admitted to himself that his half-brother had a point.
"At least put up a tent so your general presence can be felt... so any messengers sent to find you would have some way to track you down."
There was a pause as Eragon decided whether or not to press the other rider for more information. His voice lost its sharp edge as he took a chance and asked.
"Murtagh... How did you and Thorn hide all night? That had to have used a lot of energy... Surely you can't keep that up indefinitely..."
Murtagh considered letting his brother think what he liked, but then he changed his mind. With a quick turn, he began to walk, motioning for Eragon to follow. Only he didn't move towards his scrubland, but rather headed into the encampment.
"If you help me acquire a tent and raise it, then I will show you where Thorn and I spent the night..."
The elder looked over his shoulder at his not-brother, and dared to allow a hint of amusement to light his usually stormy eyes. Whether this was an invitation or a challenge mattered little; it was issued with a nuance of friendship, one that was unexpected though not unwelcome. And Eragon smiled in response, sprinting to catch up with Murtagh's long strides.
"Alright then..." the young rider grinned, falling into step with the other. "What color tent do you want?"
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As the lazy-bright-fire-eye rose higher in the sky, the arid Surdan temperature continued to climb. Overhead two dragons, one ruby, one sapphire had settled into a series of practice flights... loops, spins, chases, and even mock attacks. It only seemed natural for them to begin to learn each other's strengths and abilities in order to work out battle strategies. Where Saphira was clearly superior at aerial performance, the younger dragon possessed a greater strength and endurance. Additionally, Thorn eagerly shared his knowledge of multiple dragon tactics that he had been taught. He had been trained to work with Shruikan in coordinated attacks. And though he did so hesitantly, Thorn revealed as many of the elder dragon's weaknesses as he could recall. He did seem saddened a bit at the thought of possibly having to injure and kill another dragon elder... Shruikan couldn't help being a slave of the king any more than the red pair.
Saphira sensed his line of thoughts and decided to break from their first training session. Both dragons headed back to where their riders had just finished erecting Murtagh's dwelling tent. It was a charcoal grey... grey to fit in with the drab environment. Thorn rolled his eyes at his rider's unimaginative choice.
I am going fishing, Thorn announced to no one in particular and angled his flight towards the direction of the sea. This was one activity that he wanted to make a habit of. It was only one of the simple pleasures that he was beginning to discover, now that he was free. And though she made a pretense of distaste, Saphira veered off to follow, keeping her diligent surveillance of her charge.
Below the riders watched the dragons disappear, both knowing full well the pair would be occupied for the afternoon.
Eragon turned back to the other rider. It was only then that he realized that there were a handful of observers lingering about the warded border. Though he wouldn't exactly call the group hostile, their demeanor was distinctively wary.
"Looks like we've drawn a crowd," Eragon said causing Murtagh to spare a glance in their direction. He watched the elder shrug with apparent indifference.
"Perhaps now is a good time to show you where I stayed last night..."
Giving a slight bow and gesturing inside the tent, Murtagh made a show at half hearted courtesy, and Eragon happily entered, liking the idea of being out of the sun... not that the dark space within was any cooler.
Then Murtagh moved to the back of the sparse tent, and tipped over the wooden cot. Leaning it against the tarp wall, he whispered in the ancient tongue.
"Moi deloi"
This action did two things. First, it caused the ground to open up, exposing a steep downward stairwell leading into the darkness. It also exposed to the blue rider, the spell used to enter Murtagh's place of safety. It was an act of trust that surprised him, especially after their previous encounter.
As Eragon followed his half-brother down the steps into the much cooler air, he pondered the change in the elder... Or perhaps it was he himself that was changing... changing his perception of his former enemy... his former friend.
The drop in temperature was not the only change. The walls of the stairwell grew smoother and opened up at the end of the stairs. The flickering of an oil lamp shed enough light to appreciate the created space.
Eragon blinked in disbelief. It almost seemed like the surfaces had been carved from a giant sea shell. The two riders were standing in a roomy space larger than a typical Varden tent. This was obviously a sitting room of sorts. It contained a wall-shelf, a small table and two chairs, all of which were carved from the same pearl-like material that made up the ceilings, walls and even the floor. The young rider silently marveled at his surrounding. How was Murtagh able to create all this underground?
His brown eyes took in everything. There was also a large polished section of wall that shined like glass and he suspected it could easily be used in scrying. One entire side of the room was nothing more than a wide opening where the ceiling sloped upward creating a cavern further back into what must have been the dragon lair.
It was clear to Eragon that the far end had been designed to accommodate Thorn. The area was large enough for him to relax, sleep and even stretch, if you didn't count the wings. And a generous layer of sand filled a depression in the flooring which served as a comfortable bed for him.
Next to the sitting room was another space, a bedroom. Slightly smaller than the first room, it held a narrow bed on one wall and a small desk with a lamp on the other. This room like the other was open to the dragon lair, but additionally it was connected by narrow archways to two other rooms. Curiosity propelled the young rider to explore further, and not meeting any resistance from his host, he stepped up to the openings and peered inside...
One of these room was a storage area. Murtagh may not have possessed many items, but the few he did have appeared to be kept in here, and these included the Eldunari he had escaped with. Eragon's eyes widened again, but this time in amazement of the ancient dragon hearts. It still rather stung his pride a bit to remember, but for whatever reason the Hearts had refused to speak to the blue rider directly, preferring instead to communicate with Saphira when it was necessary. Eragon backed out of the storage room, and tried the last archway.
This room was completely unexpected... In it there were three main items, a large bath-sized basin, a smaller waist high wash basin next to it, and a chamber pot with a lid over on the far wall. A small shelf was strategically placed next to each, providing space for any necessary articles, a towel by the bath, and a partially filled jar next to the small basin.
Even though Murtagh's belongings were relatively meager, Eragon was stunned into silence by the extravagant dwelling, at least when compared to the usual Varden living space. Even Nasuada's lodgings seemed insignificant next to this.
"It's no wonder you didn't request a tent..." Eragon murmured, "but is all this really necessary?"
"It was Thorn's idea..." the red rider smiled. "He said if I was going to be a hermit, I might as well be comfortable." His grey eyes grew thoughtful with some distant contemplation. "I owe it to him to try to be happy. He deserves better than the misery he gets from me..."
"But Murtagh... How did you do it?" Eragon asked re-examining everything as they walked back to the sitting room. The red rider tried to cover up his initial reaction to the seemingly never-ending questions... It sometimes seemed that the boy hadn't changed at all since they first met so long ago. The thought softened Murtagh's expression.
"Thorn must have brought back a small mountain of sand," the elder explained with a smile. "And sand is very easily manipulated. It took us all night even with the Eldunarya helping."
Then he shrugged adding, "But it wasn't too difficult,"
Eragon wasn't sure how he felt about his brother living in such luxury while loyal Varden members resided in tents, but he refrained from a snap judgement this time, deciding instead to change the subject.
"Why don't we go get something to eat?"
Now it was Murtagh's turn to be surprised. Was his brother inviting him to eat with him? Wasn't it just a week earlier that the blue rider had pledged to hate him forever? Or was it two weeks?... And Murtagh was no fool to think that their differences were suddenly all worked out... but in his heart he felt a spark of hope.
It must have showed on his face because Eragon broke into a grin and bolted up the narrow stairwell leading back to Murtagh's tent.
"Follow me... and after we eat, maybe I'll let you show me how you worked the sand... and then perhaps I'll teach you the Rimgar."
Eragon laughed as he watched his brother's face speak more clearly than words... It said that he thought the younger to be utterly crazy. And even though Eragon hadn't wanted it to be so, he found that he was glad to have Murtagh back. He was glad to have someone to help carry the burden. And mostly he was glad to not be alone in the fight against the dark king. Suddenly the future seemed more achievable than ever, and having a brother was surprisingly turning out to be one of life's simple pleasures.
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Posted: 8-7-2011 / Revision: 8-17-2011
Author's Note:
Hey people. I've been busy and late, and I would post all my excuses but that is all they are. The good news is that I finally spit out the chapter that was giving me so much problems. The bad news is that it is seriously boring. XD I don't know what got into me to write this bit of filler, but it does reconnect the brothers. And that is the main point to my fic anyways. Will M&T ever win over the Varden? We won't know that till LOTRRanger finishes her story "Overcome."
My Plans for Chapter Six are rather big, so I expect it to take a couple weeks at least... {rather than the couple months that it took to motivate this last one.} XP*
Anyways, I want to thank all of you who read and reviewed. It means a lot, and all of you who write understand what I mean. Additionally, I'd like to apologize for taking so long, and for the lack of any serious movement in this chapter.
Next chapter sees M&T in their first battle on the side of the Varden... Tension is high, and distrust becomes a factor, but let's face it they have to survive it or LOTRRanger would have to re-write her whole story. XD
Anyways, I hope you enjoyed it