Murtagh felt that the time he was sharing with Rachel was a lot like when he had been on the run from the empire with Eragon: they had unspoken rules of the fact he would hunt and they'd practice sword fights and archery. The only thing that they didn't seem to have as an unspoken rule was talking about their pasts. He found that out one day when they were siting by the fire and Rachel suddenly asked him a question out of the silence of the crackling flames.
"Murtagh where are your parents?" she asked as she absentmindedly stirred the fire with a stick of wood. She looked up at him and then said, "Or would you rather me talk about something else?" She asked in a worried way.
He looked at her. The amber glow of the fire lit up the features of her face: her hair had a golden undertone, her complexion was a warm yet pale honey like shade and her blue eyes were clear and lighter with honesty.
"They're dead," he answered her looking back down at his bow that he was checking.
She peered at him over the fire from the log she was sitting on. His face was also lit up showing the softness of hid face that you couldn't see in the daylight. His tanned skin looked warm and inviting not hostile like his manner to other people, his grey eyes were intelligent but, like his skin, was now inviting in the evening air and fire. Admittedly he was quiet strong looking: inside and out she guessed and it seemed like what he had just betrayed from his answer was what she voiced next.
"You don't seem to be unhappy about it," she stated. He noticed that it wasn't a question more what seemed to be an assumed fact.
He looked at the ground as he answered. "Only about my father really and I guess I am upset about my mother but I learnt to live with my lot."
Rachel blinked a little at his answer his 'lot' in life must be more than that what he has mentioned. She decided a little bit at a time would be good and not to press him too much.
He looked at her a put the bow aside. "You seem quiet perceptive," he perceived himself. She nodded as in an almost agreement with him. "Where did you get that from?" She looked at him questioningly. "You're family- which one are you like?"
"Oh," she said and then said. "I don't know- I've been told I look like my mother and act like my dad and my maternal mother but I've never known myself."
Murtagh deciphered this information. Not sure what she was meaning he asked, "Dis you know your parents?"
She looked back at him. She smiled. "You're just as perceptive I see." Sighing she finished her train of thought out loud. "I never really knew them but I was raised by others who did and I spent so much time with my extended family and friends family that I felt I hadn't missed out on them. Now and then it changes but it's a good life."
"Who are your friends' family then?" he asked smiling at this girl's positive outlook on life.
"My friends Lysander and Lorcan- they're twin sons of Luna and Rolf Scamander," she explained. "During the summer they'd let me stay round their house and we'd talk about creatures they'd seen and sometimes they'd take me to see them." She stared off into the distance dreamily and thought of the times and how the Scamander twins and her would walk around school together.
"Lucky you," said Murtagh bringing her back to the present. "I never got that," he explained as he looked at the ground.
"Well there's still time to have it," she said.
"I'm too old for that," he said.
"No one is too old for that," she said laughing. "Believe me- if we weren't I'd hate it."
He chuckled at her in agreement before they went to sleep.