A giant mass of whirling brown fur followed by small traces of vibrant flaxen careened into view. Soft sand splashed with each frantic movement. After it chased a young man with a worried face. The small, indoor arena was filled with soft thuds of horse feet and loud yelling from a worried father.

"Aiedail, keep your heels down. And use your reins to guide him, not whip him." He shouted as Aiedail came into view, cantering around on her horse.

It had been a week and a half since Murtagh had first met her and she looked around five or six. He'd been teaching her to ride her stallion she'd christened Bronco. She wasn't that bad of a rider, especially given the fact that her real age was maybe two and a half weeks. But the horse had some spirit. The only one that may be able sometimes to get away from riding him without a scratch was Aiedail. And even then, there were no guarantees.

Bronco gave a wild cry and he started rapidly bucking. Aiedail tried to sooth him, but he didn't calm. His nostrils flared and he took shallow, labored breaths. The soft sand of the riding area was quickly in mounds and pits. The horse's back-left hoof hit the hard, black granite floor and he bucked higher, nickering with pain; his hoof splitting from impact. He reared and Aiedail fell off. But the horse lost balance and fell backwards after her with a sickening thud.

Murtagh ran to his daughter. He put his hand on her cold face. Her eyes were closed and her breaths labor. Her little heart still beat; but only just. It was little a faint, racing drum; threatening to mutely pound right out of her chest.

"Oh, gods! Please be alright." Murtagh said in a frantic voice as he tried to slap her awake.

Just then, Thorn strolled in. He was giving a low laugh. The fallen horse gave a wild cry and tried to get up, but to no avail. It was clear the horse had panicked when it smelled Thorn's coming.

"Aiedail! Aiedail! Can you hear me?" He yelled.

Her beautiful, deep as the ocean, green eyes moved there heavy lids away from them. A smile formed at her rosy lips and a soft, choked laugh escaped them. She wiped some dirt from her eyes and slowly got up.

"Thank the gods!" He said, relieved. He then took her in his arms, nearly squeezing the life from her himself. He'd never felt so strongly about anyone or anything. What's wrong with me? He thought as Aiedail tried to push away.

"Dad! Your choking me." She said in a cracked voice. Murtagh released his iron grip from her; almost not finding the strength to release the elf.

"Sorry honey. I was just so worried."

"You don't need to be. I can take care of myself."

"Not yet you can't." It was true and she knew it. So she gave up and left Murtagh in the court yard with his own thoughts to go take care of Bronco.

He thought of how lucky he was she wasn't hurt. The horse could have easily landed on her or stepped on her or even killed her. He knew it wasn't the first time she'd had a brush with death.

Every time someone saw her ears, she gained another enemy. Murtagh had to chase real monsters out from under her bed and from in her closet. So far someone had put a poisonous snake under her covers, stuck a knife through her bed so she would be impaled when she'd lie down, hid in her closet to poison her as she slept, snuck poison into her food, started her room on fire, and covered her covers with Seithr oil stolen from the Ra'zac. Life was so dangerous for the little elf. Murtagh always had a servant test something for her first. It was a real hassle.

And not only did she have to worry about people trying to maim or kill her; some had wanted to marry her. Three great lords had inquired to Murtagh about marring her; each one thinking she'd be an exotic addition to their harem. Some had given princely gifts to prove they were worth it. Others had only given threats, saying the elf would surly die without their hand. Most of the time, when they took the time to talk to her, she show off her attitude and sent them storming out of the room; another ally poorer and another enemy richer.

It wasn't just her being an elf that brought them either. She was less then a month old, but she already had the mark of fairness and beauty. Her hair was a silken brown curtain, hiding her mind like a curtain hides the deep, rich secrets of a dark, closed room. Her cheeks were high-bone and rosy as well, a rose. Her brow was dark and fine, highlighting her exquisite eyes; which were like spring, full and vivid and embodying more love and life then twas natural. The lashes on her lid were long and soft as a feather. Her refined form held the presence of a goddess, spreading all good things in her world. Add her Elven ears and amazing voice and she really is a powerful beauty.

But one that was in danger of losing her life. One that had more enemies then friends. As much as it pained him to say it, Aiedail couldn't stay at the palace any more. At least, the way she was now.

Murtagh thought over all his options to save her.

One was to let her die or kill her. It was very hard on them to have to protect her all the time. It was impossible to leave her alone. But he couldn't do that. He loved too much.

Another was to offer her hand to a wealthy lord or even Galbatorix himself. They may be able to protect her. But everyone who'd offered treated the rest of their harem badly. And he would not see her become some rich guy's sex slave.

Yet another choice was to see if she was to be a Rider. No one would kill a Rider. No one would dare. Galbatorix had thought she was going to be the next Rider. But this was a trick. If she became a Rider, Galbatorix would find her true name and make her take unbreakable vows. He did not want his life for his adopted daughter. No, that wouldn't do.

He could send her away, have her join the Varden. No one was ever cruel to elves there. And maybe she could find her real family. But what if he had to fight her someday? What if she became powerful and Galbatorix charged him with killing her? And he would do that too. He could never do that. He'd sooner kill himself or Thorn. She was truly more like the morning star then the real star itself to him. She brightened his life.

Suddenly, a powerful idea stepped forward. A perfect idea. He would have Galbatorix make oaths to never hurt her. If he did, Murtagh was to be freed and never used against his will again. That way, he could send her away and never see her hurt. Another, devilish idea came to his mind. If Galbatorix found out, he'd be dead. But the rewards were worth it. He would have to wait till she was much older but it would work. No doubt in his mind remained. Perfect! It was simply perfect…

"Daddy, I'm hungry. Can we eat soon?" He hadn't even noticed Aiedail was back. She had washed her face and put her hair up. She had also changed into a beautiful sea foam green dress.

"Yes, sweetheart," he answered, then added playfully, "I bet I can get there first."

"Right…."

Thorn rolled his eyes at him. He never took pleasure in Murtagh playing games with it. It. That is the only appropriate title he believed the elf disserved. Thorn had no reason to treat her otherwise. Elves treated him badly because of his parent. They didn't treat Eragon badly. And he had the same dad. The same blood. So what does Murtagh do, when he has a chance to rid the world of one less elf? He adopts it and gives it his title. His name. Disgusting. Yep. "It" was the only appropriate title. That was the only title she deserved in his eyes. Plus they could never go anywhere anymore without Murtagh thinking about, talking about, or playing with it anymore.He was really jealous of it. It had completely stolen his Rider from him.

Murtagh, remember you promised we'd go to Silver Lake and then go look for Eragon this week.

I know, Thorn. Don't worry. I'm a man of my word. I'll just have Shari look after Aiedail this weekend. He bit his lip. He had no guarantees that she'd be okay when he left. And frankly he was all too worried. There were too many risks involved. He'd have to tell her though…

"You dare challenge me?" He said finally in a play tone, "Okay then. On your mark…Get set….Go!"

The little elf bolted off, her dad chasing her. Past black corridors they ran. They passed a group of the ladies of Galbatorix's court; who shuttered when they saw the gedwey ignasia on Murtagh and Aiedail's ears. Murtagh sighed.

Another enemy for Aiedail.

They raced on; despite the glaring ladies. Pavement flew past them. Aiedail stumbled a bit; then, regaining her balance, she pushed on. Murtagh did the same, though he really didn't lose his balance. He could easily out run her. But he still let Aiedail keep the lead, though only just.

When they were almost there, Aiedail took a short cut with Murtagh hot on her tail. The floor had been freshly waxed. She felt her legs shake beneath her with every stride. Suddenly, she took a misstep, landing on her heel foremost. It slid from beneath her. She fell to the ground on her chest with a loud thud, but simply started laugh.

Murtagh started to loose his balance. His fear of falling had Thorn there fast, but a second too late. Aiedail and Murtagh lay in a twisted pile on the floor, both laughing till tears rolled down their cheeks.

Thorn just gave a disgusted look and rolled his eyes, but on the inside he was laughing too. He didn't let Murtagh know though.

No. I can't laugh at those clowns. He thought defiantly. The scene was so funny, but he resisted.

But a toothy smile still showed on his lips as he approached the two.