"Halen, Murtagh, I'm so glad you could make it," Nasuada said, leaning forward in her seat at the head of the table. "Especially on such short notice."
Hal tore her gaze away from studying the splendor of the room to the queen seated before her. She tried not to stutter from nerves with such a direct and casual address as she awkwardly bowed her head for perhaps the fifth time since they took their seats ten minutes ago. "The pleasure is all ours, your majesty. Thank you for having us."
The space was cozy, made for intimate dinners with the queen and her nobility — or in this case, her noble allies. The deep mahogany table could comfortably seat twelve people and stretched the modest length of the room. Tonight, however, only seven were present. Arya sat to Hal's left, donned in beautiful scarlet robes that nearly squandered Hal's earlier attachment to her own appearance. Nasuada, who sat at the head, looked equally stunning, her crown glittering in the dim lighting. Across the table was Orik, Orrin, then Roran, who looked the least comfortable of the group, besides Murtagh of course. When he caught her staring, he shot her a kind smile that she nervously returned before glancing away.
A shockingly white cloth pressed to perfection donned the table, plates, silverware, and goblets already neatly set. The curtains had been tied back so that they could look out at the gardens below and the sunset above. It was a breathtaking sight. Hal could just make out the wide, open balcony that stretched out, stairs leading down to the primed lawn below. A chandelier hung from the painted ceiling, a soft blue that was a gentle contrast against the ivory walls and columns.
Hal blinked, registering the flurry of activity in the room that had appeared seemingly out of nowhere since the entire group had arrived and been seated. A pair of servers disappeared behind a fake wall and Hal began to understand how she had missed them. There wasn't much conversation as the servants filled the goblets with a sweet-smelling red wine, setting bowls of…Hal raised a brow in confusion before turning to Murtagh, who was seated to her right.
"Did we really come all the way to the palace to be fed water?" she asked in a low voice.
He grinned, then proceeded to wash his hands in it. Despite understanding the intent now, Hal said with a completely straight face, "I'm certainly not drinking it now."
He snorted loudly and she turned away, biting her lip to hide her own laughter as she copied him and the rest of the table in washing her hands. When the bowls were cleared away, the first course was brought out: a brothy soup steeped with herbs and spices that filled Hal's nose. It smelled divine, and certainly better than anything she had had since they left Illium.
When the servants were gone, for now, the room fell uncomfortably quiet as people slowly sipped their soups. It took Hal a moment to notice how straight everyone sat and tried to mimic their posture. But it was too uncomfortable and unnatural for her — and she was too worried about spilling anything on this lovely gown — so she continued to lean over her bowl and hoped it was not any sort of major offense.
"So, Halen," Nasuada said suddenly, stirring her soup as he looked up at Hal, "tell us about yourself. I read the transcript from your interview with Trianna; you were raised on Illium, is that right?"
Hal was so surprised and flustered by the question that she had a painfully hard time swallowing her soup. When she did, she caught herself looking at Murtagh as if to appraise whether or not the question was a trick of some kind. While Hal had known at the time she was being questioned that her responses would be viewed by others, it felt largely unfair and unsettling that the queen had not only read them, but was now using them as points of conversation. It felt surprisingly invasive. Heavens, what if she brought up Hal and Murtagh's alleged engagement? What if this was all a ruse to trap Hal in some sort of lie?
"There's not much to tell, your majesty," Hal said, staring down at her food, unable to lift her gaze, trying to think quickly. Besides, the absolute last thing she wanted to do was talk about herself and her home in front of a group of strangers. "I'm not very interesting. But yes, I was raised on Illium."
"I doubt that you're not interesting," the queen said kindly. "And judging by Murtagh's outraged expression, I would suspect the opposite is true.
"He's being protective." She attempted at smile at Nasuada, but her heart wasn't in it. "I come from a poor, simple village. I spent most of my time with the children while their parents worked. I teach them their letters and, when their older, a few basics like hunting or how to swim. That's it, really."
"She's being modest —" Murtagh begin, but Hal found the edge of his boot and gently pressed down on it in warning. She knew he was just trying to help. She knew he would say she was an excellent hunter, and mention her sketches, and her tracking. But Hal did not want to talk about herself in a room full of nobles. She was the most ordinary person at the table, and her story would say as much. What was hunting to two queens, two kings, and an earl?
Murtagh inhaled sharply, but low enough that only Hal could pick up on it, indicating his displeasure as Hal pleaded quietly that he would let it go. She did not care to make herself out be any more than she already is. She was just Halen of Illium, once of Uden. Although, truthfully, she was beginning to feel untethered to both. It was much easier to focus on Murtagh and the task at hand rather than herself.
Hal finally looked back at Nasuada and smiled bashfully before returning to her soup, trying to push the broth past the rock in her throat.
The queen was momentarily caught off guard by the clipped response, but quickly recovered. "I've never been further south than Surda. But I imagine Illium to be a beautiful place to grow up."
Hal nodded, wishing this conversation would end. "It is. It is, it's…beautiful. The beaches, the forests, the abundant wildlife, the people…" She could feel her eyes burning and glanced away again, easily moved to homesickness. "If you ever wished to visit, you would be most welcome by my village. It's not exactly palace living, but —"
"It's perfect," Murtagh interrupted, and Hal was rather relieved, as she could feel herself beginning to ramble from nerves. "I wouldn't change a thing about it."
The staff continued to bring out the courses, replacing the soup with salad, followed by a roast lamb that made Hal almost cry, it was so delightful. There were potatoes and other greens on her plate that were well seasoned, the texture perfect. She sipped on her wine, finding it pleasant but not nearly as strong as what they had back in the village. Dessert was the biggest delight, a chocolate cake. She was practically scraping her spoon against the plate to make sure no crumb or drop of icing was left behind. When Murtagh caught her staring at his plate, he steadily moved it away from her and gave her pointed look.
When the plates were cleared and the staff had disappeared once more, Hal sensed a change in almost everyone's demeanor. There was no small talk or food to distract anyone now.
"Murtagh, Halen," Nasuada began again, looking at them both, "thank you again for joining us. I hope you found dinner to your liking."
"Yes, your majesty."
"Yes ma'am."
"Good. I supposed now is as good a time as any to get down to business. After yesterday's rather unfortunate incident, the council and I have met to discuss an alternative plan. One that we intend to share with you now."
Hal had to refrain from looking back at Murtagh. She didn't want her nerves to show to the rest of the guests. She was wary of what was discussed without Murtagh being present, but she bit down on her tongue to avoid speaking out of turn.
"Murtagh," Nasuada said, addressing him directly, "I admit that you have put us in quite the position here. Sentiments against Galbatorix have not wavered in the years since you've been away. In fact, your return, to many, is seen as a reminder of his tyranny and the role you played in the suppression of his people."
Hal did not have to see his face to imagine the look he was wearing. Without breaking her gaze away from the queen, Hal reached for Murtagh's hand, looping her fingers in with his, giving him a reassuring squeeze. He held on to her tightly.
"However, we have also taken into consideration facts and details that we had not previously. Had it not been for your aide, Eragon would not have been able to make the trek to Farthen Dûr, which saved Arya's life, and his most likely. You fought bravely alongside the Varden and aided my father before your capture and his death at the betrayal of the Twins, which was our oversight. One that cost you gravely. You were a strong ally, Murtagh, despite your resistance to being labeled as such."
"Thank you, your majesty," Murtagh said, finding his voice.
"It would be remiss if we did not take into account the circumstances in which you swore fealty to Galbatorix. Despite the war crimes you committed, your actions in breaking down Galbatorix's shields were the reason we were even victorious to begin with. Your role was crucial to our success."
"But," Murtagh said, his voice tight.
Nasuada gave him a sad smile. "But, we are still hesitant to grant your pardon like we did with many of Galbatorix's other followers. You may have served him against your will, but the damage you inflicted in a shorter amount of time is hard to ignore. You are powerful and you are dangerous. Aside from good faith, we have no reason to believe that you can be trusted."
"That is because trust is something that must be earned regardless," Hal blurted without thinking. All eyes turned to her and she felt her face burn, adding a quick, "Your majesty," in the hopes that her outburst would not be seen as disrespectful.
"While that may be true," Nasuada said gently, "we don't have the luxury of cutting corners. The riot from the other day will only be the beginning if we cannot come to an agreement that assures the people that Murtagh is no longer the threat they expect him to be. Transparency is of the utmost importance, but so is being realistic. We can't allow personal feelings to get in the way."
Now Hal really felt her face heat up. "That's not what —"
"This conversation is dancing around the point," said Orrin, and Hal's skin bristled with indignation at the interruption. She had to fight with herself to keep from speaking out of turn once more. "We do not have all night and delaying the matter will not change the predicament. Nasuada, if you will."
The queen's expression was pinched with annoyance, but even Hal barely managed to catch it before it vanished completely. "You are right, Orrin. Murtagh, earlier today, we were discussing our options and yours. We'll have to walk a fine line and we must prepare ourselves for backlash when word gets out of this decision."
Hal couldn't help it. She turned to shoot Murtagh a look, although she was not sure of what expression she should wear: hope for the best, or fear for the worst? Or mangled desperation that, no matter what, he would be okay. His face looked much calmer than Hal's, and he gave her a smile meant to ease her nerves. Imagine that. Murtagh having to comfort Hal in the wake of the decision surrounding his pardon. Guilt-ridden that this was just one more thing he was trying to protect her from, Hal felt her face crumble and looked away, frustrated.
"I am prepared to accept your decision, whatever it may be," Murtagh said graciously. "And I am prepared to do what I must to earn your trust."
"Good," Nasuada said. "Because we have agreed that it is in our best interest to grant you your pardon on a few conditions. First, you must still atone for the crimes you have committed. There is no way around that. Based on our laws, I have decided that you will bear sixty lashes —"
"Sixty?!" Hal blurted, sure she had heard incorrectly.
Nasuada didn't even break stride. "— which will be open to the public to bear witness. You will not be allowed to use magic to heal your injuries. Afterwards, you and Thorn will swear loyalty to me. In your capacity of service to the crown, I will assign you tasks that will, hopefully, build up your reputation with me and the people we serve. You will have my magicians search your mind at least twice a month as a means of assuring the public that you are on our side. Do you have any questions regarding this agreement as it stands?"
"Keep in mind," Orik said suddenly, his eyes narrowing, "that your queen is being very gracious. For the damage you have wrought, you deserve far less. If you were a dwarf —"
"But he is not a dwarf, Orik," Arya interrupted, a striking tone that left no room for argument yet maintained a cordial demeanor. Hal wouldn't have believed it possible if she hadn't heard it for herself. "And Nasuada is speaking."
"I'm done, but thank you Arya." Nasuada leans back in her chair a bit. "Murtagh, do you have any thoughts or questions?"
Murtagh sat up in his chair, impossibly straight. Hal forced herself to relax. Surely even Murtagh would object to some of these demands. Sixty lashes? And that is in addition to being searched twice a month and being forced to swear loyalty. It was excessive, and she resented the thought that she could only think as much because of her "personal feelings."
"If it will allow Thorn and I to receive our pardon, then I will accept your conditions —"
"Murtagh?!" Hal blurted, whirling in her seat in complete disbelief. "You can't —!"
"You are of no consequence," Orrin snapped. "Your input was neither asked for nor needed."
"Actually," Murtagh said, speaking before Hal could respond, "I find Hal's opinions rather important to me. You would do well not to talk down to her."
"Or you'll what?"
"Orrin, that's enough," Nasuada snapped. Then she looked at Hal, seemingly rather annoyed. "Hal, if Murtagh finds your input important, then I would like to hear it as well. I find these conditions rather fair. Why do you feel differently?"
Hal felt like she would heave her dinner back onto the table from nerves. She had her reasonings, but now the idea of saying them for others to hear felt rather stupid. Maybe she was too close to this? Maybe she was letting her personal feelings get in the way of things. And this was not her decision to make. Who was she to interject on a decision that would impact Murtagh and Thorn? Dammit all, this was why he kept his mouth shut on turning himself and Thorn over in the first place.
But she couldn't back out after making a complete fool of herself. She knew she needed to say something.
She clenched the material of her dress, staring down at her lap, at the scars on her hand. And the sight of them actually began to steady her resolve. For the first time, she did not see them as a reminder of her torture, but as a reminder of her rescue. She took a slow breath as she forced the words from her throat. "Your conditions may seem fair to you, but they are excessive punishments that treat Murtagh like nothing more than a criminal, despite the many reasons you yourself listed indicating that he has been wrongly and unjustly accused as such. If you continue to treat him like one, the people will continue to see him as one and they will never trust him, nor will you."
"Did you not say that trust is something that must be earned not even five minutes ago?" Orrin snapped, waving his hand dismissively. "You are nothing more than foolish, lovestruck girl who —"
Murtagh began to rise in his chair, his cheeks red with rage. Hal grabbed the sleeve of his tunic and stopped him before he said or did something that would risk his pardon. Tengene had called her worse as a mere greeting. She would not let either of them be goaded by this stranger.
But Murtagh would not sit down before saying his peace. He tightened then released his jaw, squared his shoulders, then pulled them in as if to appear less threatening. He looked exhausted, and they were only just getting started. "I know I have no right to ask for much from any of you. I am aware of the transgressions I have committed. Some, more personal than others. But I ask that you all remember that Halen's only offense was sparing my life, when others would have seen fit to discard it. Nursing me, feeding me, and sheltering me when I had nothing and no place to go. Those are not the actions of someone deserving of the disrespect and scorn you are showing her. So, if you must be angry, be angry with me: the person who rightfully deserves your fury. Again, I ask that we refrain from name-calling and belittling in what is supposed to be a formal and cordial negotiation."
He sat back down, his face flushed, although if from nerves or anger, Hal couldn't tell. He briefly met her gaze, and she gave him a brief smile to show her appreciation. His lips twitched in response and he nodded, both in acknowledgement and in gesture for her to continue.
Turning back to the rest of the table, Hal could feel herself sitting up a little straighter. "I did say that trust must be earned," she said, continuing with the conversation as though nothing had happened. She could even feel the quiver in her voice shift to determined resolve. "And if you had presented a half-decent plan that at least attempted to convince us that you would let Murtagh and Thorn earn that trust, I would not have any objections. Murtagh earned my trust and the trust of my people and I assure you, remote village or not, our tactics weren't nearly as barbaric. So don't attempt to lecture me on the validity of your efforts. I know for a fact none of you trust each other because you open the privacy of your minds to one another on a monthly basis." Fortunately, no one dared respond to this.
"Of course, I don't want to see someone I love tied to a whipping post. I'm not a monster. But I assure you, Murtagh has been punished enough. The scars on his body that we have yet to be able to find a means to even heal because Galbatorix cursed them, is proof of that. The fact that he had to watch his dragon be tortured to ensure his compliance, and Thorn a mere babe at that. Have they not faced enough viciousness under one crown? Would you all really rather perpetuate the same violence that has gotten us here rather than actually do something about the injustice at hand? Nasuada, do you really want scars from your reign to rest atop Galbatorix's? Is that the kind of message you wish to send?"
The queen's jaw tightened, perturbed by the less-than-subtle jab.
"And you think you know better than us?" Orrin snapped.
"Orrin —" Nasuada began.
"No, no, I want to hear what she has to say for herself." His gaze narrowed in on Hal, chilling with mistrust. "So, this is your way of saying that we should forgo restrictions to ensure that Murtagh is not a threat and just…let him galivant about the place as if he has done nothing wrong? That we should forget the crimes he committed, the very threat he possesses, even now, to our citizens —"
"I am not a threat!" Murtagh retorted defensively.
"I WILL NOT TRUST THE WORD OF A TRAITOR!"
The room fell uncomfortably silent then, the air sucked out of Hal's lungs with unimaginable force. Orrin was red in the face, and he began to look surprised by his own outburst. Murtagh had gone stiff, and she could imagine what he was thinking: that he could never earn a pardon at this rate.
She heard him take a slow breath, and in it, she could hear his resignation. Panic flooded her system. She could not let this be the end. She could not let him give up. Not now. And she could not match them temper for temper, as much as she wanted to. It was unproductive, and also went against the very point she was trying so hard to make.
"I get it." She said, looking at Orrin, trying to peel back her hardened layers to reveal her own vulnerable core. He scoffed, dropping back down in his chair with undignified grace. "I do. When we first learned Murtagh's identity, we feared bringing her majesty's wrath down on our village. Our medicine man said, and I quote: 'The blood on this man's hands runs deeper than I care to think about. I will not dishonor his victims by saving his life.'"
She sat in silence, letting the words sink in before she continued. "But the man who raised me, the man who opened his home to Murtagh and Thorn, responded in kind by saying: 'Do not let one man's transgressions fuel your own…Traitor or not, we are in a position to help this young man. You must rise above your fear and hatred and do what is right, even when it is not easy.' That is the kind of village we are. And that is the kind of leadership I am asking you all to display now."
Hal shifted in her chair again, her words coming faster now. All eyes were on here, but not all were still angry. They were attentive, engaged even. And she did not want to lose this momentum. She blinked quickly and pressed forward. "We had just as much reason to be worried that Murtagh was a threat. And to the high heavens he did not wish to make it easy on us either." Murtagh reached over and squeezed her thigh with affection, and she had to fight the urge to smile at the gesture, feeling what passed quietly between them. "But even I could quickly see that he had a good heart. And when given the chance to prove his own worth, he will do just that."
Nervously licking her lips, not wanting to continue much longer on her high horse, Hal finished with a quiet but hard, "My loyalty is to Murtagh and Thorn alone, and I bear no shame for that. I have watched them fight and struggle with their guilt and remorse just to get this far. You all turned your backs on them once, but I refused to do the same. I will not let you be the obstacles that stand in their way now. Certainly not after the life Murtagh has had to sacrifice because you all were so blinded by your own prejudice towards the father, you never gave the son a chance to prove his worth. And that is your loss and your shame to bear, but I will no longer let it be his."
She heard Murtagh inhale sharply at that last sentence, but she refrained from looking over at him. She was breathing deeply, her fingers curled into fists as the roar in her ears slowly began to dissipate as the rush of her words left her.
"You clearly feel strongly about this," Nasuada commented, leaning back in her chair.
"Yes. But only because I feel strongly about him," she added, gesturing with her chin to Murtagh. "I want it to be known by everyone in this capital that I will not be bullied or intimidated. Murtagh and Thorn have my full support." She looked pointedly at Orrin, who rolled his eyes.
"Fair enough," Nasuada said, looking surprisingly less annoyed than she had before. "If no one else has anything to say —"
"I do," Murtagh said, and all eyes turned to him. "If I may speak?" Nasuada nodded affirmative, and his eyes briefly went to Hal. "I know I have disrupted the peace by coming here unannounced. And I know that I must face repercussions for my past actions, even if I was forced to act against my will. The only reason I'm here is because, for the first time in my life, I have an opportunity to decide my own fate. I know, to all of you, it must seem selfish. I can't blame you for thinking that. I made choices, and my choices had consequences. I don't want to run away from that anymore. If I've learned anything from this past year, it's that sometimes we must do things we're afraid of in order to protect those we love. Everything Halen has done, from the moment I've met her, has reminded me of this."
Hal had a feeling this was leading somewhere she wasn't going to like. And yet, Murtagh spoke with such assuredness that she didn't have the heart to interrupt him. She wasn't here to undermine him. But his words made it impossible not to smile, and his expression warmed at the sight. After a few moments, he looked away, gazing at the others. But Hal couldn't take her eyes off him.
"I have spoken with Thorn, and we have reached a decision."
"You have?" Nasuada asked, her brows raised in surprise.
"Yes, your majesty. I will bear the sixty lashes, to atone for my gross actions towards you and towards King Orik. Taking Hrothgar was a cruel act of malice on my part. I have since learned what it feels like to helplessly watch someone you love be taken from you. I cannot change the hurt I've caused you — either of you. And I know this will not change that fact. But for that, this is what I deserve."
Hal dug her nails into her palms, but kept her mouth shut.
"I assume there's more," Nasuada offered politely.
"There is. My mind was violated in the worst possible way by Galbatorix — and he took great pleasure in breaking me down. The only people I trust with such intimacy are now Thorn and Hal. With that being said, I will consent to being searched once, and only once. Swearing my oaths to the crown in the ancient language should be enough to ensure my loyalty. I will not subject myself to monthly reminders of what I endured when I was trapped in these walls years before. Not when it has taken me all this time to get that bastard out of my head."
Nasuada's jaw tightened a bit at his resolve. "I will be picking the magician who will search your mind. On that, I will not budge."
His lips twitched, as if having expected this response. "As long as they are properly vetted this time, I have no complaints."
Roran, who had begun to take a sip of his wine, choked unexpectedly. Hal pressed her lips together tightly to hide a smile. Even Nasuada's eyes danced at Murtagh's boldness, but did not argue.
"And there are two more things I'd like to request."
"By all means, please."
"First, I want to ensure that no punishment befalls Hal or her people for taking me in. They are good people, and all they did was show a bastard like me kindness when I needed it most. Do not punish them for sheltering me. For giving me my first real taste of home and family when it was denied to me all my life. If you can promise me that Hal will remain protected, then I will say nothing further on the matter."
"And the last item?"
Murtagh took a deep breath, his eyes darting briefly to Hal, then back. "I wasn't really given a chance to speak on this before, but I want there to be no secrets or misgivings if we are indeed to move forward in this partnership. I came here with information of a threat that has been moving in secret under our noses —"
"I bloody knew it!" Orrin shouted, jumping to his feet, his eyes wide and accusatory. "I knew you did not come here on good faith. I knew you had an ulterior motive —"
"I have none, except fair warning and to fight for my freedom, which I have a right to."
"Nasuada, surely this throws his motivations into question? He plans to barter for his pardon. It's blackmail, plain and —"
"I have proof that a Shade has been operating in Alagaësia," Murtagh interrupted, his tone flat and unyielding. "While her overall strategy still remains unknown, she is unequivocally dangerous."
The silence that followed was tense. Nasuada's jaw was tight, and Hal could see that she was struggling with many emotions, none of which Hal could make out without knowing the queen better.
"What proof do you have of this?" Arya asked, finally breaking the silence.
"Nothing physical. But if you search my mind, you will see it for yourself. Not to mention that we left two key witnesses back in our village who can corroborate anything Hal and I say. And I believe you would find them most trustworthy."
"Halen, you bore witness to this as well?" Nasuada asked.
Hal struggled to unstick her tongue from the roof of her mouth. "Yes. And the Shade is not working alone either. She has been breeding the Ra'zac —"
"I've heard enough of this," Orrin snapped, his tone blatantly dismissive. "A Shade? Ra'zac? This a fool's tale, concocted to earn our blind sympathy and grant Morzansson a pardon he doesn't deserve."
"It is no tale," Murtagh bit back sharply. "And if I meant to use it as leverage, why would I tell you now, before Nasuada has even agreed to the conditions of my pardon, let alone handed it over? I did not want there to be any doubt that I am here on good faith. Yes, of course I want my pardon. But our primary reason for being here is because we were outmatched by the Shade and innocent people died as a result, Hal nearly being one of them. We knew we could not fight this battle so long as I remained a wanted man. I am asking you, all of you, to help us. Please."
The tension in the room was fragile, and Hal could feel the room getting smaller. No one said anything for several long and agonizing minutes, and Hal could hardly lift her eyes from the table.
"Murtagh —" Nasuada began. Before she could finish, he was standing in his chair. The whole room jumped in surprise, even Hal, at the sudden movement. They all watched, stunned, as Murtagh bent at the waist into a bow.
"If you doubt my sincerity, then forsake my pardon. I will still bear the sixty lashes, I will still allow my mind to be searched, and I will still tell you everything I know."
"Murtagh…" Hal began, but she became emotional and fell silent.
"I alone was not strong enough," he continued, and his voice broke with the admission. "Good people died under my watch. People I cared about. At least hear me out. Gauge the threat yourself before dismissing me. But I am begging you to take this seriously."
Nasuada looked shaken. Hal could not fault her for it. It was one thing for Murtagh to be humble around her or the Tenari. Even then, his vulnerability had always had its limits. While she had slowly seen those defenses being peeled back, this, she knew, meant something. "And those are all of your requests?"
"Yes, your majesty."
Nasuada sighed. "All right then. You've given us much to think about. We'll have our decision for you first thing in the morning."
…
Murtagh sat on the edge of the bed, rubbing his palms on his trousers and waiting anxiously for Hal to say something. She stood with her back to him, facing the vanity mirror as she pulled the many pins out of her hair and set them down. The silence was deafening, the only sound being the tiny plink of the clips on the wood. Hal did not seem angry. He knew when she was angry. How stiff her body would get, the way she would cut her eyes at him. When Hal was upset, she wanted him to know. This felt different. This felt sad. And he remembered how she had looked away from him at one point during dinner, like she was ashamed — but not of him, he knew. He felt the same emotion emanating off her now.
"You are awfully quiet," he said at last, unable to bear it any longer. He watched as her hand paused for a moment, before it picked back up. Slowly but surely, her hair began to fall to freedom, back down her shoulders.
"I could say the same thing about you," she retorted smoothly, not missing a beat.
"I suppose you're right."
When the last pin was out, Hal's shoulders visibly relaxed as she ran her fingers through her curls. Murtagh watched with a bit of nervousness as she moved over to the wardrobe. She kept her gaze down as she walked, and Murtagh sprung from his seat and hurried towards her.
"Here, let me," he quickly offered, his hands reaching for the many buttons that made up her back. Hal had sent away Juliet who had been waiting to help her change into her nightgown, likely too caught up in her emotions to remember she needed the assistance.
He half expected her to stop him, but Hal quietly relented as he started with the topmost button and worked his way down.
Nervously licking his lips, Murtagh asked, "Are you angry with me, iet dunei?"
She sighed. "No. At least, not with you. Just angry at the situation."
"Was it the dinner, or…?"
He paused, not quite able to say it. At the same time, part of her dress began to fall open, and his eyes darted to the thin, ropelike scars the peeked out from underneath her slip. His stomach churned uncomfortably.
"What will you do if they accept your conditions?" Hal asked, her voice quiet and carefully controlled.
"If they accept my conditions, then I will accept my role in making sure they are carried out accordingly."
When the last button sprung free, Hal turned to face him, her eyes searching his for an answer she could accept. "And the sixty lashes? Does that not seem a tad bit excessive, Murtagh?"
"Perhaps. But I also know it is the right thing to do. I cannot expect or assume any right to take the easy way out any longer. Nor do I want to. Even if they don't forgive me, I can work towards forgiving myself by making this gesture of humility."
"I just don't understand why you need to put yourself through further physical torture to achieve such a goal. You've already accomplished so much without it."
"And don't you see, Hal? Everything I've accomplished has been to get me to this point. To make sure that I could stand on my own two feet and do what is necessary, even if it is not easy. I want them to see me as you do. As my own man. That can't happen if I do not try and make the effort."
"A man should be judged on his merit, not whether or not he can stomach sixty lashes. It's asinine, and dangerous. You do realize that many lashes could kill you, right?"
"I won't let it."
"You won't let it? Oh, well, that's comforting, Murtagh. Thank you."
"Halen, please, I don't want to fight."
"I'm not picking a fight," she retorted rather defensively. "You asked me what was wrong and I'm telling you how I feel. You can't honestly think I'd be happy about this."
"I knew you wouldn't be happy about this, Halen, but I thought you'd at least understand —"
"Understand what, Murtagh? Please enlighten me as to what I am missing that makes all of this so damn difficult to follow. Because from where I'm standing, it just feels like you want to punish yourself in the hopes of appeasing people who kind of got you into this mess to begin with."
"Halen —"
"The way they talked to you tonight was completely unacceptable. How are you supposed to work with them when they don't even want to try? I get that they don't trust you right now, but some don't seem keen on even wanting to give you the chance to earn it. What then? How is this supposed to work? Because I assure you Murtagh Morzansson, the gods will have to march down from the heavens and physically stop me if they think this fealty will be anything less than a proper partnership. You don't owe them anything and I'll be damned if I let them treat you and Thorn like dogs of the crown."
She turned her back to him as she spoke, huffing over her words as she yanked her arms out of the sleeves of her dress, pushing it down around her hips. She had already mastered the trick of pulling her nightgown on over her slip, and then removing her slip so that she could change in front of Murtagh without having to step out of the room. Also, just because she was lazy.
When she was done and turned back around, Murtagh's gaze seemed almost distant. She could tell by the slight crease between his brows that he was listening. Feeling rather guilty, Hal reached out and touched his arm, and his expression shifted as he looked over at her.
"I don't want you to think I don't support you," she added softly, weary that her frustration would give him the wrong impression. "I do, rider. Even if I don't like these options. I guess I'm more annoyed that this is all you have to pick from. If this is to be your life, I want nothing but the best. I don't want you or Thorn being used or taken advantage of."
"Not to mention you're scared," Murtagh added, his voice soft. But there was no question in his tone and Hal quickly looked away.
"You're damn right I'm scared," she muttered. "Sixty lashes won't exactly tickle. On top of that, recovery will be hard. The damage it could do to your body, your mental state…it is a big risk, Murtagh. And I just…I guess I just feel like this is about more than just your pardon."
Murtagh stiffened but didn't respond.
"Everything is happening way too fast and I'm struggling to keep up. First you didn't want to come, then you did. Then you blew up our entire plan to turn yourself in, and almost jumped on the first offer they give you regardless of the repercussions. You're practically throwing caution to the wind and that's not like you at all."
The way she was staring at him made his heart race, as if she were on to him. He shrugged nonchalantly and said, "Maybe I don't want to be like the old me anymore."
"What was wrong with the old you? I liked him just fine."
Her response was panicked, and Murtagh realized that she heard something completely different. She looked vulnerable, standing there in her nightgown, brown eyes wide as she tried to read him. Afraid that she was losing him. He reached out and pulled her close. Hal resisted at first, and something about her stubbornness made him smile. She rolled her eyes but caved, allowing him to wrap his arms around her waist and hold her.
"Do you know that I would do anything for you?" he asked.
Hal reluctantly nodded. "I admit, that's what frightens me about all this. Not to say that I don't believe you can't think for yourself. Rather, I don't want you to feel like you have to do this for me or because I said so."
"I am doing this for you," he corrected gently. "And for me and Thorn. I'm doing this for us, Hal. For our future. Because I promised myself that I would make you the happiest woman on earth. And that is a promise I would do anything to keep."
…
It was no forest on Illium, but Hal had to admit that the castle itself was a nice substitute for her mindless, nighttime wanderings. Everything around her was quiet, much of the staff having gone to bed at this late hour. It was just the cool stone, the night guards, and Hal. Aside from a few nasty glances, the guards left her alone, if they acknowledged her at all. Hal would be lying if she said it didn't unnerve her. But she watched them as carefully as they did her.
The castle was one giant labyrinth. Unlike the forest back home, which she had traversed so thoroughly that she could tell the trees apart, this was all brand new to her. She could not remember the last time she had felt truly lost somewhere. Even the estate, within a few days, had felt familiar and easier to navigate. The castle, however, was far too massive to think she would cover all the ground in the same amount of time. Part of her had wanted to ask Murtagh for a tour, but she was inclined to find her way around on her own first. Besides, the walk helped clear her mind since she was undoubtedly not falling asleep anytime soon.
She retraced her steps back to the dining hall of their earlier meal, her eyes taking in the carefully crafted details she had not yet noticed. Crimson red carpets donned the floors, plush and comfortable under her feet, muffling her steps. Spaced out columns rose from the floor into an arched ceiling, detailed with etchings that reminded Hal of ocean waves as they crested, painted various colors. Iron chandeliers hung from above, glowing faintly so that the light was not too glaring, and softened the décor without making the hallway impossible to navigate. Elaborate paintings, sculptures, and pieces of art also adorned the walls and stands throughout, adding a somewhat homey touch for a place not really meant to belong to any one person.
She tried to imagine Murtagh growing up in these halls. Grim-faced and head down most likely. Perhaps with a book in his hand? She made a note to ask him about the library. She was eager to see the vast collection he had praised endlessly during their magic lessons. And perhaps any other spots that may have been dear to him.
She recalled Eragon mentioning that Nasuada had put a lot of work into rebuilding the castle after it was destroyed. Hal imagined that this might have something to do with how much warmer it seemed than what she had been led to believe by Murtagh's recounts. While the people themselves were not quite hospitable, Hal had to admit that the space as a whole was enjoyable. She smiled at the paintings of Alagaësia landscapes, pausing with breathless wonder for what seemed like hours when she reached one that depicted the Beor Mountains.
"That's my favorite painting in the entire castle."
Hal swore and spun around. Not even with her hyper-sensitive hearing had she heard Nasuada come up behind her. All this damn carpet would take getting used to, that much was certain. Like Hal, the queen was dressed in her nightgown and robe. But unlike Hal, whose clothes were plain and unrefined, the material on Nasuada seemed to be an expensive, smooth silk that shimmered in the light and moved as she did, even if it was a small gesture. It was a deep, lovely ivory that highlighted her dark complexion. She looked composed, even at this hour, and Hal nervously fingered the end of her braid as she dropped into an awkward courtesy.
"Your majesty. I apologize, I didn't hear you approach."
Nasuada looked much more at ease than Hal. "It's not a problem at all. I didn't mean to sneak up on you. I didn't expect anyone here at this hour."
Hal gave her a wry smile. "Couldn't sleep?"
"No. You?"
Hal shook her head shyly. "I'm used to wandering the grounds of the forest back home. But since there is not much of one here, this castle is a fine substitute. It's quite lovely. I heard you had much to do with that."
Nasuada came to stand beside Hal, her gaze raised to the painting. "I supposed. Although, at the time, the citizens were eager to rid themselves of the memory of Galbatorix. There were many artists who donated and contributed much of the work you've seen here. I regret that we could not pay them a proper commission, but many said they were honored to have their pieces acknowledged in the halls of a new monarchy. A new beginning for the country."
Somehow, with that in knowledge in mind, the painting seemed to shift ever so slightly. Hal noticed that such light colors were used: a beige for the mountains, mixed with light purples and greens to bring out the landscape around the base. The sky was a dazzling light blue that reminded her of a cloudless day back home. And somehow, she found her spirits lifting.
"When Murtagh and I were just becoming friends, he was my window into this world. He told me of the Beor Mountains, Du Weldenvarden, the elves, the dwarves, that travesty of a trek he and Eragon took through Hadarac. And the way he spoke of such places…" Hal flushed with embarrassment. "I guess I just forget sometimes how small our island really is and how little of the world I've really seen."
"I imagine you must've had dozens of questions."
"Oh hundreds. Bless him, he answered as many as he could too. I probably drove him mad." She smiled. "But if I did, he never let on. At least not about that anyway," she added jokingly.
Nasuada's smile was sincere, but there was something almost sad in it. "You two are close." She seemed to blush, waving her hand in the air. "Of course, you said in your statement that you were engaged, so one would certainly hope so. I simply meant to remark that even though I have seen couples, in love and out of it, I can tell there's something special that brought you and Murtagh together. Something deeper."
Hal blushed. "I'd like to think so," she said nervously, unsure as to what could be behind the queen's subtle change in demeanor. Feeling rather uncomfortable at the notion that popped into her head, she stupidly blurted, "He spoke of you."
Nasuada's brows went up at that in genuine surprise. "He did?"
Hal's smile became strained, but she nodded. "Aye. Not in so many words. I know…I know what happened."
"All of it?"
Hal bit her lip, then quietly nodded again. "It may not be my place to say…I don't mean to bring up anything unsightly. I just…I don't know. I guess I just thought that you should know…that I know what I know."
Nasuada raised a patient hand. "Halen, it's fine. I imagine it was something Murtagh needed to say. For his own healing."
"Yes. Yes, it was."
The queen nodded, her smile not quite reaching her eyes. A few more breaths passed in silence, and Hal was torn between looking at the painting and looking at Nasuada. The woman was beautiful. That much was painfully obvious. But it wasn't just her deep brown skin or intelligent eyes. It was the way in which she held herself, shoulders thrust back, chin raised. Something about her drew Hal in.
How could you possibly want me after loving someone like her?
Hal was stunned by the intrusion of such a painful memory. Of such volatile vulnerability and self-loathing that had driven her to such despair. But seeing Nasuada in person was harder than she imagined. She was everything Hal feared she would be: regal, sharp, compassionate, beautiful.
Hal folded her arms across her chest and stomach, hugging herself and growing more self-conscious, more aware of how deeply she lacked the same composure and grace. The same strength.
"I can tell it bothers you," Nasuada said suddenly, her voice soft and sad, "that you know what his feelings for me once were."
Hal's face burned furiously, and she could've sworn she felt steam coming out of her ears. Now she just seemed childish and petty. She had no idea what to say in response, flustered at being called out for such silly emotions.
"I assure you, Halen. Whatever feelings he may have had are gone."
"It's not that," Hal said quickly, not wanting anyone to believe she didn't trust Murtagh or had concerns about his loyalty. Although if he were to ever change his mind and tell her that it was, in fact, Nasuada who made him happy…
"Then why do you look at me with such grief and pain in your eyes?"
Hal flinched at that. She struggled to make her thoughts form something tangible and coherent. "Please know, I bear no ill will towards you because of your past relationship with Murtagh. That was a time in his life I had no part of yet. And without you, he might have been lost to me. I may have never known him at all. Knowing what I do now, I could not bear the thought. Also, you know, the whole…defeating the evil tyrant, thing."
She took a steadying breath and Nasuada grinned. "Yes, that silly old thing." But her teasing was kind and Hal tried to force herself to relax.
"I see traits in you that I do not see in myself. Maybe, at some point I would have felt differently. But recently…recently, I have lost more than I care to admit. And truthfully, it is Murtagh and Thorn who are keeping me afloat.
"So, when I see you, and see what you have overcome to establish yourself as the queen, I feel…small. And weak. Because I do not know if I have it in me to be strong for both Murtagh and myself." Hal looked at Nasuada now, her eyes bloodshot with unshed tears. "He needs this. He needs this pardon. He needs something to hope for. Because he has also lost more than he cares to admit, even to me at times although he's getting better. I can't give him that peace. I can only stand by his side. But just like before, it is you who holds his freedom in his hands. It is you who he must turn to for help. I can't bear it. I can't bear not being able to help those that I love."
She turned away again, and Nasuada was quiet a moment, processing what Hal had said. "He mentioned you when I first spoke to him. He said there was a woman waiting for him; or rather, that he hoped she was. That she was the reason he even had the courage to turn himself in."
Hal said nothing.
"I've seen the way he looks at you. The way he defended you to Orrin. Asked that you be given a chance to share your opinion. I almost would not believe him to be the same Murtagh I knew from before if he did not go by name or have Thorn with him."
Nasuada turned to face her, and Hal hastened to avoid her gaze. She couldn't fathom why, but the fact that Nasuada was now preparing herself to talk Hal out of her doubts felt shameful. Hal knew this was something she should be able to do on her own, and yet she could not. Nasuada's attempts to help just felt like another failure.
"When I see the way Murtagh looks at you," Nasuada said, and Hal was stunned to hear it quivering with emotion, "I see a man who would devote his last breath to your happiness and wellbeing. I see a man who would rather take his own life than ever lay a hand on you, even if he was not given a choice a matter."
Hal couldn't breathe. She knew what Nasuada was saying. Or implying rather. And Hal didn't know how to respond to it. She didn't know if she were meant to defend Murtagh or not. And she stumbled over her words to say, "He did care for you."
"I know he did, Halen. I do. But that was then. Now? I know he would let death take him before he let harm come to you." They stared at each other, the truth hanging between them, fragile and sensitive. Hal felt chills under her thin gown and robe, but she wasn't cold. "Look, I'm not trying to interfere in your relationship, it's not my place. And I can't pretend to know what you have lost. But do not let me be the base of your comparison. I appear strong because, like you, I have to be. There are people depending on me, and I also gave them my word that I would do what I can so long as I was fit to be queen. But I am still learning, and falling, and growing. Just as you are, and just as Murtagh is."
"Well then you certainly hide it better than the rest of us."
"That's because I have an entire staff assisting me. I am not so arrogant as to pretend I am capable of running this country on my own. Now if you want to see someone who makes ruling look easy, I suggest you shadow Arya for a few hours, because that is probably all you would need to feel completely and utterly incompetent."
"Oh, heavens, I can imagine. The way she shut down Orik over dinner sent chills down my spine. I could only dream of having such a command."
"I completely agree."
The two women shared budding smiles, and then something in that moment fell between them and they both looked away. Nasuada released a quiet sigh, and then said exactly what Hal was thinking: "I did not want to impose the lashes out of spite or revenge. It is a complex issue that must be handled carefully. I want Murtagh and Thorn to earn their pardon. I want them to find acceptance and rebuild their lives. My goals align with yours, and theirs. But I cannot turn a blind eye to the regulations and laws that govern this land. Things are still so fragile. I want to minimize discontent as much as possible. I hope you can understand where I'm coming from."
"I do," Hal admitted. "I don't like it, but I do. But at this rate, Murtagh will have accumulated more scars on his body than anyone should have. I do not want him to think that the only way he can seek forgiveness is by putting himself through more physical torture. But…he insists on doing it this way, and I will support him."
"If it is any consolation, I will amend it so that he can be healed enough to move around. He will still feel some pain and discomfort, but it will allow him to move about sooner than if he waited for the wounds to heal on their own."
Hal's smile was sardonic. "I appreciate the courtesy. Although I am sure you must need him for something sooner rather than later if you are making such an effort. It would hardly mean anything to have a dragon rider pledged to your services who is thusly indisposed due to injuries inflicted on him by said crown."
Her eyes danced at Hal's boldness. "You are a sharp one, I'll give you that."
"Thank you, your majesty."
Hal respectfully bowed her head and walked away, preferring to leave with the last word while she still could.