_Diamond Cut Diamond_

Chapter 12: Sunrise

Murtagh awoke before the sun the next day. His dreams had been odd, full of bright colors that twisted fluidly from one insane scenario to another.

A few moments after he woke, he remembered nothing except extreme confusion.

"Thorn?"

The dragon was asleep, which didn't surprise Murtagh. The journey from Uru'baen had been a long one. He assessed the room, and realized there was a tray of food on one of the tables that he had either missed the previous night or been unaware of its arrival.

"I will never understand elves."

After eating, he glanced in the mirror that had seemed to goad him all morning.

"If this is how I look, I don't blame them for being frightened."

He looked haggard, unshaven, and his hair was sticking up wildly. Figuring he had time, he bathed, tamed his hair, and, surprised he could not find a razor, used the shaving spell he'd heard Eragon mutter one morning.

"Poor boy can't even shave himself."

Murtagh chuckled at the thought. In some rather glaring ways, Eragon was still a boy.

The clothes he found were simple, but of the softest fabric he had ever touched. Like everything else elves made, they were fairer than any human endeavor.


Arya did not want to rise. She was momentarily thrown into confusion by the fact that she was in the room she'd had as a child. She looked around, everything wonderfully, horribly familiar. It felt comforting until she thought about how old she was.

Before she could stop it, her mind rolled inexorably back to the previous night.

"He's very human, Arya. So easily excitable."
"You insulted him, mother. You met with him in an office and treated him like a servant or worse."

"If he is so driven by his emotions, then he is not the great dragon rider many were expecting."

"He's also not the murderer they're expecting."

"I have no control over how people view his actions."
"They were not his actions. We, of all people, must know that."

"Still. But I am the one who should be insulted. As should you."

"I don't see the issue with caution."

Her mother had given her a long look. Actually, her mother had given her several long, unreadable looks.

"Nasuada should learn not to meddle."

"Her entire career has been based on meddling. Give her some time."

"You are so human, Arya."

"Is that an insult?"

"And you bristle like a porcupine. I suppose I should not be surprised, considering the fact that you have lived among humans so long."

Wanting to physically hit her mother had always been a part of their relationship, but Arya was more incensed today than she had been in a long time.

"And you have hidden in the woods for so long I should not be surprised at you prejudice. Did you not fight beside them? Were they so unworthy?"

"If you were anyone else, such a comment would have made you lose everything you ever hoped for."

"And because I am who I am, I will lose even more, yes?"

Islanzadi's calm had frustrated Arya, but her anger became frankly frightening. She had brought her hand down on the desk, hard enough to shake it.

"You are my daughter, Arya, but that does not mean you can answer me as if I were not queen of the elves."

"I am your daughter? That is certainly a recent change."
ISlanzadi's face had become stone.

"Get out of my sight."

And Arya had.

Now, she lay, staring up at the ceiling. What she had done had not just damaged her relationship with her mother but also her chances at becoming Ellesmera's representative in Nasuada's court.

She knew she was the best person for the job and many problems would arise if she did not take it, but she also knew that if she didn't do it, she had no idea what she would do. And that frightened Arya more than anything.

"Damn it. Damn her, damn me, damn it all," thought Arya.

And suddenly, she had the oddest of urges. Before she could second guess herself, she dressed and slipped out of her room and to the dragonhold.


Murtagh looked surprised to her, but if he was still angry, he didn't show it.

"Do you want to see the city?" she asked, after he greeted her. "We don't have to be anywhere until nine."

"How did you find that out?" asked Murtagh. "Your mother certainly didn't seem overly concerned about it.
"I spoke to her later on last night," said Arya.

Murtagh cast her a searching look.

"No," she said. "It didn't go well; to answer the question you're debating on asking."

"What happened?" Murtagh sat down, and nodded to the chair in front of him. Arya was nonplussed.

"I took issue with her rudeness to you, and she took issue with what seems like everything about me. And—"

Arya's voice broke. "It is not easy to have a parent that does not love you. No matter what your feelings toward them, it is not easy."

Murtagh simply looked her in the eye and said, "I know."

And, in that moment, Arya realized that it was true, he did know. And that meant that, by extension, she was not the only one who had failed her parent so deeply.

"I—Murtagh, I thought I was the only one who had ever committed such an atrocity. All elves value children above all else. It is so, so—wrong, so offensive to anything natural to us for a parent not to be completely in love with their child. And I cannot, for all the world, understand what I did."

Murtagh shook his head. "I don't know your story. But you may have done nothing. What had I done?"

""Nothing," said Arya, in a small voice. "Nothing."

And in that moment, she realized he had to have suffered as much, if not more than she had. Her mother, she reflected, had never tried to kill her.

"By by the sun and stars, Murtagh, I am so sorry."

Murtagh blinked in surprise, and stared at Arya.

"You never deserved any of the hatred you have received. And rejection from a parent…"
"It makes you feel utterly worthless," said Murtagh.

"You are not, though," said Arya.

"Nor," said Murtagh, "are you."

Arya reached forward and grasped his hand, hardly knowing what she was doing. It felt right in hers, and she immediately began learning all the details etched on his skin.

"Thank you," she whispered.

"Thank you," he replied, holding her hand in both of his. "You have shown me more kindness than anyone now living."

"I apologize," said Arya, softly, "for the wrongs I have committed against you. I have said many things that were untrue—my only excuse is that I am still full of anger at so many things."

"You are forgiven. If you will forgive me for this."

And as the sun peeked up from beneath the horizon, Murtagh kissed Arya.

It was a gentle kiss, but the emotion behind it seemed to crash over Arya. Murtagh's arms wrapped around her, but rather than feeling trapped, she felt safer than she'd felt since she'd left Ellesmera so many years ago. He was human, but in that moment he had all the grace of an elf, to Arya. Every sense in her body took him in, and she felt herself melt.

Everything about him suddenly seemed perfect. Why had it taken her this long to notice?

It took her far too long to break away; enough look him in the eye but still keep his arms around her.

"Murtagh…" she breathed, savoring his name. "Oh, by whatever gods exist, I should not have allowed you to do that. But I am so glad that you did."

She stood up and pulled him into an embrace, letting herself enjoy the innocent contact with a person, the feeling of another warm body.

"We should go," he whispering. "We'll be late."

"I don't give a damn," said Arya.

But she did pull away.

"Shall we go?" asked Murtagh.


Arya nodded, smiling, for what felt like the first time in a century.

All the way to Tialdari Hall, Thorn berated Murtagh with questions.

"Does this mean you're going to live with her? Mate with her? Will we stay here?"

"I don't know what it means, Thorn. Don't jump to any conclusions."

"You're happy."

"I'm very happy."

"I'm glad."

Thorn's contentment radiated through Murtagh, only making him happier.

This time, Islanzadi was in the throne room, and she let Murtagh, Arya, and Thorn approach and greet her before so much as looking up at them.

"Arya, you may leave," said Islanzadi. "Your duty to Nasuada has been completed."

"Yes, Your Majesty," said Arya, in a voice that Murtagh had never heard her use, the voice of a young person vying for approval.

"So," she said. "You want to know what to expect, I suppose."

"Yes," said Murtagh, forcing himself to add "Your Majesty."

"I would also desire some answers from you."

"If I can, I will enlighten you," replied Murtagh.

"Do not play games," said Islanzadi. "You will lose."

"I had no such intentions," said Murtagh, placidly.
"Do you want me to deal with her?" asked Thorn.

"She wants me to get angry, and I'm not going to give her what she wants," said Murtagh. "Be civil, if you have to talk to her."

"Then please explain what Nasuada expects you to do."
"She wants me to observe you political process so that she may understand how it works. She also wishes for me to be here as her representative, so that her view on the matter can be given.

"Her view is needed on our government?"

"Since you are electing someone who will have dealings with us, Nasuada has an interest in what will happen.

"She wants Arya to win, because Arya is half under her jurisdiction."

"I can't say who she would like to win."

"Do you know?" asked Islanzadi.

"She should know better than to try to fool you," said Thorn. "Considering your experience"
"I couldn't say," said Murtagh.

"Well then. What are you intending to do, if Arya does not win?"

"I assume I will accept whoever wins," said Murtagh

"You assume."

"I do."

Islanzadi shifted in her throne.

"My instructions," said Murtagh, deciding to give Islanzadi part of what she'd wanted, because monarchs generally wanted to win, "were to speak my piece supporting Arya at the beginning on the meeting, as I understand procedure is."

"It is not usual for an outsider to speak," said Islanzadi, "but it is not against protocol."

"Then things will go smoothly, I hope."

"They will. Now, the meeting will be held at sundown tonight in the Great Hall, Arya will show you where. I am afraid Thorn will not be able to fit through the door, but you may position yourself outside, skulblaka. You have my apologies for the inconvenience. There will be many speeches, by each candidate, and then as many as five people may speak for them. Then the voting will commence, by silent ballot. Only the council may vote, and no one may be in the room but them. Results will be given tomorrow."

"Many thanks, your majesty," said Murtagh.

"You are dismissed," said Islanzadi. As he turned she, added, "What is it humans say? May the best win?"

"Indeed we do," said Murtagh, and he followed Thorn out.

I DID IT! I wrote romance! Feedback, please. Pleasepleaseplease.