3. Envy

Murtagh and Thorn flew next to Black Thunder and his passengers. Murtagh stretched himself against Thorn's neck, content to relax as they flew toward Alagaёsia since he and Thorn had made this journey more often than any of those with whom they now traveled. With his head facing toward them, Murtagh found it difficult not to observe Varhog and Willow for the entirety of the flight, something that was most engaging and satisfying.

Murtagh knew they must have communicated mentally for the majority of the flight. Their mouths moved only occasionally. And that would make sense, for the loud roar from the wind and wings when flying on a dragon's back made spoken conversation nigh impossible.

Varhog appeared distant and thoughtful for a long while. He sat stiffly upright at first with his hands on his thighs. Willow settled comfortably against his chest but before long, she took his hands and crossed them around her middle, nestling more deeply into Varhog. Murtagh chuckled to himself at his old friend's reaction, easily able to imagine how Varhog might feel about that.

Murtagh had been aware longer than anyone of Varhog's feelings for Willow, and he could guess how impossible a relationship with a human must seem to the Urgal. He had often wondered what, if anything, would come of Varhog's affection, especially as Willow had appeared to start returning it in the past several weeks. Murtagh felt something of a similar unsolvable frustration in his relationship with Nasuada.

Murtagh's mind turned to thoughts of Nasuada. He remembered first meeting her in Tronjheim after being taken prisoner by the Varden simply for being Morzan's son.

The first time Nasuada had visited his cell still felt as if it had happened yesterday. He was first struck by her beauty. What else would a nineteen-year-old male think of first? But next had been her fearlessness in visiting an alleged villain. And finally, her nobility and confidence had impressed him. Murtagh had spent a great deal of his childhood and adolescence around court nobles, but no one had ever seemed more naturally dignified than Nasuada, and that at only seventeen!

Murtagh wasn't sure how his feelings for Nasuada evolved as they did over the next year. Murtagh heard of Nasuada during the months he trained under Galbatorix's merciless tutelage. How she singlehandedly led the Varden from the dwarven capitol to Surda. How she marshalled her forces for war, though they were so poor. Murtagh only later learned of her ingenious idea to magically manufacture lace as a means of procuring funds for the Varden.

These little details had increased his admiration for her as a fearless, resourceful, decisive leader. Murtagh heard about Galbatorix's first attempt on her life only after it had happened, and he had felt an inexplicable relief that it had failed. But at that point, he had characteristically cared mainly about himself and Thorn surviving whatever Galbatorix had in store for them. Murtagh had never been one to worry enough about someone else to put himself out for them.

By the time the Varden had successfully taken Dras-Leona, Galbatorix had really had enough of Nasuada's determined opposition. The king had once again ordered an assassination, and Murtagh had then stepped in and somehow convinced Galbatorix to take her alive. Murtagh hadn't been able to stand the thought of Nasuada being killed. She was so young and full of potential. Why end her life when she might be such a powerful ally? Murtagh had grown fond of the idea of having friends like Nasuada and Eragon to keep him company during their enforced servitude to Galbatorix.

Murtagh knew his feelings for Nasuada deepened into love during her imprisonment in the Hall of the Soothsayer. For one thing, Galbatorix had forced him to be the instrument of her torture. Murtagh still shuddered to think about her screams as he repeatedly burned her with a white hot branding iron. And yet she had never given in and pledged allegiance to the king. She was so brave, so defiant, so dedicated to her cause. Murtagh knew he would never meet another woman like Nasuada, and his admiration for her had deepened, as had his loathing for Galbatorix and himself, since he had caved so quickly to Galbatorix's demands once the king started torturing Thorn.

Murtagh had begun to visit her secretly. The king somehow never became aware of Murtagh's interference in his plotting, probably because he was so preoccupied with how close the Varden were to Urû'baen by then. But Murtagh had been desperate to somehow atone for his wrongs toward Nasuada. He used magic to remove the pain of her wounds and alerted her when Galbatorix was filling her mind with an illusion designed to trick her into swearing fealty to him. And he visited her as often as he could.

Those nights of quiet conversation were the end of Murtagh's days as a ruthless, self-interested lone wolf. Part of his very being changed when he began to care for another person's life more than his own, when he realized he would willingly sacrifice his life for Nasuada, and it was this integral shift in his character that had enabled him to defy Galbatorix at the last minute—right when it mattered most. Never before then had Murtagh understood why or how anyone could feel that kind of love. He had always considered Eragon a fool for risking his neck time and again to save other people.

At Nasuada's urging, Murtagh had devised a plan to help her escape, which obviously had been rendered obsolete when, the day before Murtagh would have carried it out, Eragon's completely unexpected triumph over Galbatorix altered history forever. Murtagh, and now Nasuada, had their freedom, but his reputation could not be so easily defeated. Although Murtagh was Galbatorix's pawn during the war against his will, that didn't change the fact that the free peoples of Alagaёsia feared and hated Murtagh and Thorn.

Despite his hope that the friendship he had begun to develop with Nasuada during her captivity might evolve into something more, Murtagh had known he must leave for a time, and so he had. During the relatively few visits Murtagh had made to Alagaёsia in the time since Eragon had left, Murtagh and Nasuada had had opportunity to discuss the events of so many year prior. Nasuada insisted she had forgiven him.

She had even once—more recently—shared with Murtagh one of the illusions Galbatorix had created in her mind when he was attempting to force her into his service. She and Murtagh had been married with four children and living on a grand estate in the country. She suffered from amnesia and wasn't able to recall any of the details of their life together. In the illusion, her last memory had been of her imprisonment in the Hall of the Soothsayer in Urû'baen. After sharing this with Murtagh, Nasuada had told him that the end of that illusion had been the most painful of all at the loss of what she thought would never be. Murtagh felt that the reason she chose to relate this piece of information was to make him aware of her feelings for him. But if she would have him, what would become of them? She was mortal, but he was an immortal Dragon Rider.

Murtagh sighed, and his thoughts returned to the present for a time. He refocused his attention on Willow and Varhog flying next to him a fair distance away.

Murtagh sensed that something momentous was about to happen, so he muttered a quick spell that would sharpen his eyesight. Fly a little ahead of them, he requested of Thorn, who gladly obliged. Thorn was viewing the exchange through Murtagh's eyes, and Murtagh felt that his dragon was just as curious as he was. Several more silent minutes passed, during which Willow smiled occasionally. Then after Varhog returned her smile, though more faintly, and shook his head in what appeared to be admiration, Willow abruptly twisted around as much as the leg restraints on the saddle allowed so she could look straight into Varhog's face.

Her smile then was as radiant as Murtagh had ever seen it, and he noticed tears shimmering in her eyes. Varhog smiled back at her and opened his mouth. Murtagh read the words as clearly as if he had been only inches from Varhog's face, as Willow was. "I love you, Willow," Varhog said.

Murtagh laughed and wasn't at all surprised that tears sprang to his eyes. Varhog had been wanting to say those words to Willow for at least five years, and finally he had. And Murtagh and Willow were probably closer than any of the other Riders in the brotherly and sisterly regard they had for one another. They both had such an easy, honest wit and had always gotten along famously right from the moment Sunset had first hatched for her. Murtagh was overjoyed for the sister he held so dear, as well as for Varhog. Willow's reaction to Varhog's words was just as Murtagh would have expected. She laughed, threw her arms around him, and pressed her face into his chest.

Murtagh shook his head and wiped his eyes. He was suddenly so happy that he didn't know what to do with himself. That's encouraging, he said to Thorn. First Eragon and now Varhog. We have been a miserable trio on the Isle for all these years, longing for the women we love. In a way though, I think it has been hardest for Varhog. Not only was Willow always there, which forced him to hide his regard, but their situation is easily the most difficult of any. In Eragon's case, he meant never to return to Alagaёsia, which necessarily put the control out of his hands. In mine, I have stubbornly insisted that being with Nasuada would only end in heartache so why begin? But with Varhog being an Urgal and Willow a human, I think they have the most challenging obstacles to overcome.

So it would seem, Thorn agreed. Does this inspire you then?

Indeed. If Varhog can find the courage as an Urgal to admit he loves a human, I had better be able to follow suit and steel my nerve enough to present my desires before Nasuada.

Murtagh looked back over at Willow and Varhog, watching with a strange combination of approving envy as Willow gently examined every feature of Varhog's visage with her fingers and eyes.

That's so beautiful, Murtagh murmured to his dragon. She really loves him, and she has never let the fact that he is an Urgal prevent her from seeing him as a person—not a monster—and someone she could have as a friend, which is more than any other human could say. We are privileged to be witnessing this singular exchange, my old friend. I'm sure it's the first time in history that an Urgal confessed his love for a human, and the human returned his love in like manner.

What do you suppose she is thinking? Thorn wondered.

From her expression, I would guess she finds Varhog handsome. And it's no secret that he sees her as the stunningly beautiful woman she is. Which would be another first. No other human or Urgal has taken the time to see past their differences enough to recognize the beauty in the other. And though it has been a long, long while since I have seen Varhog in a negative light, there was once a time when I did. He has more than proven himself as a friend, Rider, scholar, fighter, and with respect to Willow, as a selfless, loyal, caring, and patient companion. I can honestly say that he is one of the greatest men of my acquaintance and I am honored to call him brother. It's not hard for me to imagine that Willow is attracted to him and that she loves him. She knows him better than I and no doubt appreciates all of his strengths even more.

After her examination, Willow and Varhog stared at each other for a long while. Without being able to perceive any evidence that they were conversing, though he knew they must be, Murtagh found himself thinking it seemed very intimate they would just gaze into one another's eyes for so long. When it looked as if Willow was uncomfortable from being twisted around so long, she turned back forward and Varhog clasped her to his chest. Murtagh knew his eavesdropping wasn't very polite, but he couldn't draw his gaze away and wished he could hear the thoughts that were passing between them.

Thorn offered, I could communicate with Black Thunder to see if he has any information to share.

Murtagh grinned. That would be sneaky. I sense they wouldn't appreciate it. Thank you for the offer, but I suppose I must consign myself to observing from afar, as unbecoming as it is.

After a few moments passed, Willow—who had again turned enough to look back at Varhog—earnestly spoke aloud the words Varhog had earlier, "I love you, Varhog."

Murtagh's eyes again filled with tears at the deep sincerity on her face and also at Varhog's reaction. He closed his eyes and rested his forehead against Willow's. Varhog said something, but Murtagh couldn't make it out with the way his face was angled down and obscured. But the look on his face before he lowered it was clear enough. He was overwhelmed.

Murtagh's thoughts strayed back to Nasuada as Varhog encircled Willow in his huge arms. Willow was a tall, strong woman, even more so than Nasuada, but she seemed so dainty next to Varhog. He could wrap his hands completely around her wiry, muscular upper arms, and he did so then. He also rested his chin on her head. Thinking of Nasuada made Murtagh wish he could enfold her in a similar embrace. He felt another pang of envy, this time punctuated by deep longing.

We are going to her now, Thorn consoled.

But what if she won't have me? What if she will! Murtagh had been over this so many times that it seemed pointless. He had wanted to be with Nasuada for so long. But he had stayed away for years, only visiting briefly when he delivered dragon eggs to Alagaёsia, to allow time to heal old wounds for both of them and to give her time to establish her kingdom. And though Murtagh now felt certain that Nasuada desired a relationship with him as much as he did, he didn't know how to proceed when she would one day inevitably die.

Murtagh shook his head in frustration and momentarily abandoned his eavesdropping, though it was still on his mind. The theme struck him again as it had earlier when he thought of himself and Nasuada, Eragon and Arya, and Varhog and Willow. It seemed like every relationship involving a Rider was of necessity complicated by some inexplicable difficulty or some impossible obstacle to overcome. On the one hand, those involved might be of different races and therefore unsure of future possibilities, such as if they would be able to have children and, if so, whether those children would be mortal or immortal. The other scenario—which was the predicament he and Nasuada were in—was that one of the two might not be a Rider, and they were therefore painfully aware of future certainties, such as the death of the mortal person.

If only there were a way to ensure that any Rider who wanted to be involved in a loving relationship wouldn't fear any future possibility, known or unknown, Murtagh griped to Thorn.

Yes, that would simplify things, Thorn agreed. Though I cannot think of any way to guarantee it. It seems that some great effort of magic would be needed. The combined strength of the dragons might be sufficient to accomplish it, but that cannot be called upon at will.

Murtagh felt a familiar hopelessness. He could think of no way to alter the natural course of things. To take his mind off his despair, he returned his gaze to Varhog and Willow and was glad he looked back when he did. They were both facing forward, Willow wrapped protectively in Varhog's arms, when Varhog bowed his head next to Willow's shoulder and turned his face toward her ear. He spoke something aloud—Murtagh saw his mouth move, but once again couldn't see what Varhog said. It so startled Willow that she abruptly turned toward Varhog and their lips brushed by accident. Murtagh saw Willow jerk back in surprise, rubbing her lips as if she had been shocked, and Varhog moved his head after her. They exchanged some words, each in turn, and Varhog's head moved closer to her face again. At this, she reached up and placed her fingers over his lips, her eyes cautious. She said something, and Varhog moved back with acceptance in his face. Murtagh didn't miss the deep, instinctive longing in his eyes. It was an emotion he was well acquainted with.

Willow spoke one last time, and Murtagh recognized the words, "Yes, I will marry you. I will be your mate," among them. A series of emotions crossed Varhog's face as he briefly spoke to thank her. Willow smiled radiantly, and Varhog returned it. She slipped her arms around him and hugged him.

They're getting married, Murtagh remarked in disbelieving envy. A human and an Urgal getting married. There's no excuse for me now, old friend.

No, there is not, Murtagh, Thorn agreed. Black Thunder felt our obvious attention and confirmed what you learned. They mean to join as husband and wife. He also told them we have been eavesdropping.

Murtagh felt slightly guilty as Varhog and Willow turned to look at him, though there was no malice in their faces, only happiness. Willow smiled brightly and raised a hand to wave. Varhog only smiled with his chin resting on her head. Murtagh waved back. He was happy for them, but as he faced forward, his envy at their happiness grew ever stronger.

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