Chapter 22
Murtagh opened his eyes and lay still for a few moments, waiting for the world to come into focus. Bright white light pierced the darkness of the chamber, making him wince and turn his head away; and his eyes fell upon Shruikan's charred corpse, sprawled across the cracked marble floor. Murtagh sat up abruptly, taking in the damage dealt to the throne room. The main door was blown off its hinges, the ceiling had partly collapsed, and there was a deep crater close to where the dais had been. Galbatorix was nowhere to be seen.
'There is nothing left of him,' Thorn said, and Murtagh heard both weariness and savage joy in his voice. The dragon was injured, his left wing torn by Shruikan's claws, but it was nothing that could not be healed.
'He's... really done it. We are free,' Murtagh thought, incredulous, and the words felt foreign.
'Free,' the dragon echoed happily.
Murtagh was aware of others stirring around him. Suddenly alarmed, he looked around for Medea, reaching for her mind at the same time, and found her unharmed and already getting to her feet. He did the same. She turned and her eyes found him, and he saw his own relief mirrored on her face; yet both of them hesitated momentarily. Nothing stood in their way anymore, but they had pretended to be strangers to one another for so long, steeling their hearts against each other to make it easier, and now it felt as if there was still a barrier separating them.
Until Murtagh crossed the distance between them in a few strides and pulled her into his arms.
'Took you long enough,' Medea murmured against his chest, her words muffled, because it was Medea and she always had to find some fault with him.
She could pick fights with him for the rest of his life, for all he cared.
Over her head he saw Eragon hurrying to the block to which Nasuada was still chained, and released Medea reluctantly. 'I need to help Nasuada,' Murtagh told her, and she nodded, although he thought he saw uncertainty in her face. She still doubted him, then. There would be time, later, to explain everything to her.
Meanwhile, Eragon was trying to break Nasuada's manacles without success. Murtagh strode over to them and, elbowing Eragon out of the way, spoke the name of all names, followed by "jierda". The chains fell off Nasuada's arms and legs and she sighed in relief when Murtagh lifted her off the block and placed her carefully on Thorn's back. Eragon gaped at them, but, evidently, decided to ask questions later.
'Wait!' Arya cried suddenly. 'Where is the dragon egg? And the Eldunari? We need to get them out of here!'
Murtagh focused his mind on Arya's and passed directions to her. 'This should be enough for you to find them.'
She nodded, and, wasting no time, sprinted past him.
'Leave them, Arya, it's too dangerous! This place is falling apart!' Eragon shouted after her, but she slipped through the doorway and was gone.
A large chunk of stone broke off from the ceiling and crashed to the floor not far from Thorn. If they were to get out alive, they had to move now. Eragon, Elva and the two children had already mounted Saphira, and she started forward, toward the hallway, dragging her injured leg. Thorn followed, with Murtagh, Medea and Nasuada on his back.
As they emerged from the ruins of the castle, it became clear that the blast which destroyed it also severely damaged the city. The houses closest to the castle had been leveled. Others were burning, black smoke filling the sky. The people were in a panic - most of them seemed to be fleeing the city, but some still tried to put out the fires that were destroying their homes, perhaps hoping to save their belongings. Medea certainly never wanted to set eyes on this place again.
When Thorn halted, she slid off his back and looked back to see Murtagh gently lowering Nasuada to the ground. She swayed slightly, grabbing his shoulder for support. Medea knew that she was injured and that she needed help. But the memory of Nasuada leaning against Murtagh's chest, his arm around her, was all too vivid in Medea's mind, and she couldn't help but wonder once again whether something had happened between them. Or was still happening.
She turned around and walked away from them. There were more important things to think about. She saw Eragon tending to his and Saphira's wounds, and approached him, waiting at a respectful distance for him to finish. Elva, who was standing nearby, glanced at Medea with interest, but did not speak to her. There was something very odd about the girl, and Medea still did not understand why Eragon had brought her to face Galbatorix. A question she could ask him later.
Eventually Eragon noticed Medea. He looked her over with concern. 'Are you wounded? I was worried...'
She shook her head, then asked with quiet bewilderment, 'It still doesn't feel real, does it?'
He smiled wearily. 'It's starting to.'
'What now for you?'
'Well, I suppose first there's the small matter of choosing a new ruler.' His next words seemed oddly apologetic. 'I know that you are his heir, but... I don't think that you would have been accepted as a new queen. I know you, of course, and I know that you are nothing like Galbatorix. But everyone else...'
'Gods, Eragon, did you think I would want to press my claim?' Medea interrupted incredulously.
He shrugged sheepishly. 'I doubted that you would; I merely sought to explain. Nasuada will want to take the throne, I think, but there are bound to be arguments about that. I am going to stay until it's done, at least.'
'What do you mean? Are you going somewhere?'
Eragon hesitated before speaking, and Medea sensed that she touched upon a subject which he was reluctant to discuss. But he answered anyway. 'We found hundreds of dragon eggs, hidden in a safe place. Now dragons and Riders can return to the world.' Saphira bumped the back of his shoulder fondly, and he stroked the scales on her brow. There was a hint of sadness in Eragon's voice that Medea did not understand, but he went on to explain it without prompting. 'The problem is that I could not think of any safe places in Alagaesia where we could take the eggs and the Eldunari, and later raise the hatchlings and train new Riders. All of the places that might be large enough are either too close to human settlements - or those of the elves and dwarves - or unsuitable in other ways. And so Saphira and I have decided that the best thing to do would be to leave Alagaesia, go somewhere far from other people. You are the first person I've told.' He attempted a smile. 'Someone once foretold that I would leave, never to return, so... it seems this was always meant to be.'
'Eragon, that is ridiculous,' Medea said bluntly. 'Even if you do leave, what exactly is preventing you from ever returning? Just a prophecy? You have friends here, and family - would you abandon them?'
'I could not abandon the Eldunari and the eggs, either! I have to assume this responsibility, Medea. There would be no one else to protect them...' his voice trailed off, and Medea began to suspect that the same idea had visited both of them. 'I never asked you what you and Murtagh planned on doing now, and where you would go,' Eragon began, his expression betraying his growing enthusiasm. 'It completely escaped my mind that you might be shunned at best, and at worst, your lives may be threatened. So - would the two of you consider coming with me? I can promise that you would be safe, far from any who might wish to do you harm. And I would welcome the company of friends, and the help of another Rider.'
'And if you wanted to come back here for a time, there would be someone to watch the eggs.'
'But the prophecy-'
'Eragon, forget about the damn prophecy. It can't physically control you, can it? There will be nothing stopping you from coming back. You'll make your own destiny.'
He nodded hesitantly, as if afraid to give himself false hope. Medea didn't push it. She knew that he couldn't stand for long against her single-minded determination to prevent him from making a dumb, overly dramatic decision.
It was a better arrangement than she could have hoped for; but although Eragon had simply assumed that Medea and Murtagh would follow the same path from now on, she could not be sure of anything until she spoke to him. She glanced back at Murtagh uncertainly.
Eragon followed the direction of her gaze. 'I will speak to Murtagh myself,' he assured Medea. 'Oh, I almost forgot! Your old nurse, Barbale, is at the Varden's camp right now. She was most helpful to us - I will tell you about it later - and she could come with us if you wish...'
He was interrupted by Elva crying out. She was pointing in the direction of the castle. Arya had emerged out of the debris carrying a wooden chest, which Medea recognised as the one that contained a green dragon egg that used to be kept in Galbatorix's treasure room beside Thorn's egg. Arya was followed by several elves, and a line of large metal boxes floated in the air behind them.
Forgetting what he was speaking of a moment ago, Eragon gave Medea a brief apologetic glance, then dashed across the courtyard toward the procession, with Saphira loping after him excitedly. Medea smiled as Eragon joyfully embraced a fur-covered elf.
She became aware of footsteps behind her. Murtagh came up to stand beside her, and it seemed to Medea that both of them wanted to speak but could not find the right words. 'I have so much to say to you,' he finally spoke. 'But I don't even know where to start.'
Medea's heart was hammering in her chest. She waited silently, barely realising that she was holding her breath.
'Look at me', Murtagh said, his voice low. He reached out to touch her cheek lightly with his fingertips, and the light touch sent a shiver through her. She lifted her head to meet his eyes. 'You - you don't know what it felt like, to think that I could never touch you again.' His hand slid down her arm, his fingers entwining with hers. 'To think that you'd never be mine. It was driving me insane.'
'Everything you felt, I felt as well,' Medea replied quietly, suddenly shy to speak the words. They had never spoken about their feelings so openly; but this needed to be said. 'But maybe we can make new memories now. Together.'
'Then... nothing has changed?' Murtagh asked, his hand gripping hers almost painfully.
'Nothing has changed. I have always been yours,' she replied, and the smile that lit up his face warmed her in return. Yet still a question tugged at her with the tenacity of a hound, and she could not let it go. 'But... Nasuada?'
He seemed genuinely surprised to be questioned about the woman. 'I told you, all there was to it was that I wanted to help her.' A smirk played on his lips as he added, 'I knew you were jealous.'
Medea scowled. 'Was not.'
'I don't think I could have loved someone else even if I tried,' Murtagh murmured, and, as if confirming that he didn't have to hold himself back any longer, he pulled her closer and kissed her, impatiently and almost roughly, with the hunger of a man who had waited too long to do it. And Medea responded in kind.
They went to speak to Eragon together. Murtagh had been stubbornly insisting on flying off to live in the wilderness, perhaps somewhere in the North. He and Thorn needed time away from other people, he said. Time to think and to heal. He tried, of course, to persuade Medea to come with him.
She was having none of it. She reasoned, and pleaded, and even threatened him into hearing Eragon out and considering going with him. Murtagh was bent on punishing himself for everything he had done under Galbatorix's control, and reluctant to allow Eragon to persuade him - Medea was quite sure that he only agreed for her sake. Nevertheless, he was clearly intrigued by the idea of training new Riders and Medea hoped that she was right in thinking that company and keeping busy would do him and Thorn more good than self-imposed exile.
She was glad when Murtagh and Eragon finally made their peace and parted - for a time - as brothers. It was agreed that Murtagh, Thorn and Medea would stay out of sight until Eragon settled what business he had left and prepared for the journey ahead. Before Eragon and Saphira left, Murtagh told the other Rider the name of the ancient language, warning him not to share it with anyone else. And when Eragon asked him how he was able to break free of Galbatorix, Murtagh said, 'It was as you once told me... My true name had changed. Thorn and I are not what we once were.'
Eragon gave Medea a sly, sideways look. 'I wonder why.'
Barbale burst into tears when she finally saw Murtagh and Medea together, and when Murtagh asked for her blessing, she gladly gave it, before inquiring in the same breath when they were planning to have children.
They departed Alagaesia by ship, as there were far too many dragon eggs and Eldunari to carry on the back of a dragon. Some eggs had been left behind to find candidates for the Riders, and once those eggs hatched, Eragon would send more eggs to Arya, the new elven queen. Murtagh, Thorn and Medea waited until the ship - with Eragon, Saphira, Barbale and the ship's crew on board - was well away from shore before landing on its deck, in order to prevent those who came to bid Eragon farewell from seeing them.
To their astonishment, they were greeted not by one, but by two dragons. An emerald dragon roared a challenge up at Thorn as he approached the ship, until his Rider came up to place a hand on his side reassuringly. When she lifted her head, Medea recognised Arya. Although the elf reluctantly bid Eragon farewell soon after that, it seemed that they both knew they were not parting for ever; and the foolish grin that appeared on Eragon's face now and then, seemingly for no reason, hinted that this was far from the end of their story.
Medea's second surprise of the day came when Eragon approached her and asked if they might see whether one of the eggs they brought with them would hatch for her. 'You are the daughter of a dragon Rider, after all,' he said by way of explanation. 'Thorn and Firnen didn't hatch for you because Murtagh and Arya were meant to be their Riders, but perhaps one of these other eggs will.'
Medea shrugged, masking the flutter of hope that once again arose within her. 'No harm in trying.'
After Eragon walked away to rejoin Saphira, Medea stood by the railing for a long time with Murtagh beside her, pondering the road ahead. She didn't know where they would end up settling or what they might encounter there. But she was with people who loved her, and whom she loved in return. She was free, and she was happy. And she did not fear the future.
The flask sank swiftly to the bottom of the Tüdosten Lake. Lodged between two stones, it lay on the floor of the lake, and the ashes it contained seeped out into the soil. As the months passed, a thin flower stem pushed its way out from between the pebbles that littered the lake floor, and the fish avoided swimming too close to it, frightened away by its unearthly glow.
A.N.: This is it! I hope you guys enjoyed reading as much as I enjoyed writing (even if I was really slow :D).
As you see, in this chapter I made things progress a lot faster than they did in the book and I hope it makes sense. Please review and let me know what you thought!
And thank you so much for reading!