TW: Discussion/accusation of assaulting a minor. Brief/referenced domestic abuse, off-page torture.

AN on the TW: I swear that most of the chapter isn't about showing the subjects themselves; but more about how they affect this " family. " Even so, stay safe out there.

The journey home from Aroughs made me appreciate both Katana's company and her wings more than I ever had. Unfortunately, I only had the former available to me. Restricted to ground travel, and with more pomp than I preferred… it was a tedious march. The weather improved as we neared the capital- dry air was a welcome change to the dampness of the coast- and my mood improved with it. I arranged things so we would arrive in the city while most people were already abed.

What a double-edged decision that turned out to be...

I strolled the halls of Uru'baen at a crawl. The long, meandering corridors were pristine and deathly quiet; not even a fly was fool enough to disturb Galbatorix at this hour. In one hall, the floor was checkered by strips of silvery moonlight. In another, it was dark save for the flickering of yellowish lanterns; magical in nature but designed to mimic real fire. I passed the hall that led to Morzan's quarters, "The Queen's Suite" as he affectionately called it. The lack of drunken laughter told me quite plainly that the man was gone from the capital. No doubt to get some space from Torix.

Katana was amused by the thought. Should we envy him?

I wouldn't envy anyone in his position. Since our last heart-to-heart, Morzan had only gotten worse. He was a miserable sight; drunk more often than not, angrier than I'd ever seen before, and listless in everything besides drinking and violence. He hadn't cracked a smile in nearly a year! Compared to the cocksure mirth that once oozed off the slacker-general… it made a thoroughly depressing image.

His partner has been heading in much the same direction for many decades. Katana's quiet grief spoke volumes. She'd only ever been close to Xanist's dragon, but I knew she'd respected the hot-blooded, red-scaled dragoness a great deal.

Even as I tried to picture the two side by side- fledgling Katana only as long as her elder's foreleg- the image slipped away from me. I grasped at the shreds, but the harder I fought the faster it seemed to escape. A pang of anger hit me, more violently than it deserved, How much must we lose? Our whole histories; our very souls… and for what?

Revenge. Katana's tone was far from understanding. If anything, she was more disgusted by the banishing than any human could be; she was one of only two skulblakan unscathed by it and of them the only one with her sanity intact.

To reap vengeance on Galbatorix, they punish all those who serve him? I scoffed aloud. If they were going to weave a spell, it should have affected him. Instead, they ripped away our only chance at building a better world in the ashes of the last. They thought it better to doom their race than to accept a new regime.

Dragons are not spellweavers. We can no more control our influence on the world than you could command the weather. When the urge comes upon us, the world shifts according to our whim. The casual pride in her thought made me smile. Even bereft of her body, she was still very much a dragon. As much as I understand their actions, I cannot forgive them. They took my thunder from me.

From us both. I carressed her thoughts with my own. As the dragons had withered, so too had their riders. How many had succumbed to recklessness, madness, suicide, apathy… even the handful that clung to life did so as walking ghosts.

Or as Idril… whatever the hell she was.

It troubles me how well Torix seems to get along with her these days.

I shivered. I agree. Were they ever that close before?

Wouldn't you be the expert?

There was no venom in her rebuke, but I still cringed from embarrassment. Not that I was aware of at the time, no. But then, there were lots of things about the man I failed to notice.

I grazed a finger on the pendant in my pocket. It had been around my throat since the night of the feast, but the idea of going before him while wearing it gave me hives. I'd extracted as much of its energy as feasible into other gems in my travel case, but that still left a considerable store in the necklace. Even so, Katana and I had reached a decision: we would rather flounder without his help than succeed with it.

Finally, I reached the final turn before Galbatorix's quarters. As unpleasant as the past few weeks had been, this was still the most odious of my chores: reporting to the king. I had no choice but to appear; he'd even promised to wait up for me (to my endless delight). I scuffed my hard-soled traveling boot on the stone. A cloud of dust settled onto the floor, probably a good indicator of how the rest of me looked: road-weary and dingy. It was a poor way to present oneself to a king, but he'd certainly seen me in uglier states. You should try and meditate a while. I have a feeling this will be tedious.

Isn't it always? She teased. I will be here should you need me. Katana kept a thread of thought connected to me as she relaxed into her dreamlike musings.

I lifted a leaden hand to knock, but the door pulled in before I could.

A girl stood paralyzed in the doorway. She was at least a head shorter than I was and delicate of build. Her blonde locks were in disarray, half up in a ribbon and half framing her round face. She was wearing only a shift and a robe that were both much too large for her. They drooped off her shoulder… her bruised and bitten shoulder.

A profound empathy gripped my ribs. This girl can't be older than fourteen… And then, as shy blue eyes flicked up to meet mine, I found that I recognized her! She was having tea with Antebellum when the lady first told me about Aroughs. Then this girl was a nobleman's daughter at the very least, if not a lady in her own right. And she hasn't even been presented to the court! By every law, she's a child! My sadness melted into disgust.

The poor things looked like she was about to weep. She had no possible way of knowing how much the man- the one we'd both come to see- loathed tears. This fact was made all the more despicable by how often he was himself the cause of them. I raised my hand again and, as gently as I possibly could, covered her shoulder with the robe. "Run along, dear. Try to get some rest."

She curtsied on shaky legs, bowed her head low, and sprinted down the hall.

I stormed into the room, mentally preparing myself for the consequences of the tirade I was about to unleash on him… but I never even gained momentum.

Torix was draped like a panther across his bed (at least with pants back in place, thank every single god) but he wasn't alone. A stiff-backed woman sat at the piano, her dark hair loose and glossy, purple dressing gown nearly black in the darkness: Veronica.

I felt choked, but still managed to say, "What are you doing here?"

Veronica rolled her eyes and plinked at the keys. "Do I need your permission, oh great and noble rider, to be in my own bedroom?"

Galbatorix gave Vera a solicitous grin. "Please, there's no need to squabble at this hour." He got to his feet and stretched, tossing a shirt on thoughtlessly. "Besides, shouldn't a family reunion be a joyous occasion?" I couldn't miss the ironic smirk, the way his dark eyes flashed in my direction, the arrogant tilt of his chin; pure amusement without an ounce of shame.

Pig. I stood tall and leveled a cool stare. "We see too much of each other. It lessens the excitement somewhat." I bowed stiffly, as formal as possible. "I am reporting my return as instructed. Nothing of pressing importance occurred at the gala or on the road."

I peeked up fast enough to catch his calm melting away, frustration obvious in his body language. "For once, you've managed to keep yourself out of trouble. That in and of itself is noteworthy."

" For you, " Vera finished primly. She seemed altogether too satisfied with herself, a mockingbird imitating a hawk.

Far from enjoying her interjection, Torix seemed even more irritated. He shrugged off the distraction and switched subjects. "Morzan is returning tomorrow morning. He has asked to meet with the family as soon as he arrives."

"Meaning?"

"Formora, Balor, Beren, Idril, you, and me." It was not lost on anyone in the room who was conspicuously absent from the list. Her vaguely tapered ears turned pink, but she made not a peep. Torix continued, "I expect you to be in the meeting room punctually at two hours past dawn."

"Since when has Morzan ever been punctual?" I tried to smile but found the gesture too taxing. The image of a the girl I'd just seen was too powerful to sweep aside, even falsely. "Galbatorix, there's a matter I must bring to your attention."

My tone shift must have tipped him off. He settled into the highbacked armchair and kicked both feet up on the center table. Even as the absolute picture of ease, he still had a powerful aura of danger around him. It seemed like he was expecting my outburst, was practically encouraging it… like he wanted another excuse to humiliate me.

I grasped at patience. "What I just witnessed was foolish, not to mention disgusting."

He chuckled. "And what right do either of us have to judge-"

"She's a child ." The statement should have stood on its own; a visceral reprimand for foulness of the worst kind. Vera certainly shifted uncomfortably in place, eyes locked on the piano keys. Torix was unmoved. I swallowed hard and lifted my chin. "Even if you're sick enough to not mind such things, I'm certain her lord father would feel very differently."

"Who do you think told her of the invitation?" Torix's clipped tone struck me as more frightening than his mirth; he genuinely, truly , saw nothing wrong with this. "He will be well compensated-"

My mouth went dry, fists clenched white in fury. " He will be compensated?"

"It's inconvenient to lose a bargaining chip on the courtship board, but then she has two older sisters- not much dowry left to offer at that point. If anything, this probably saved him from ruin. Material gain is the most a man like that can get from his daughters."

Katana, lured in by the scent of drama, whispered urgently in the back of my mind, You can't reason with a mandman-!

But my temper had already broken free. "As opposed to your frugal strategy of bedding yours?" Verra struck a sour note and pivoted to stare at me, slack-jawed and ashen-cheeked. Torix tensed from toe to tip, a bow pulled to its limit. I knew I'd already pushed him well beyond his snapping point. Nothing for it now. "Did you spare a thought for her? For any of the people you leave broken and bleeding in your wake? And you, " I met Vera's eyes a lifted a hand disparaginly, "you are perfectly happy to sit here and watch him ruin a little girl's life?"

Vera sniffed and looked away. "I had my first man before her age-"

My vision was blurry with emotion, voice choking on the rage as I spat, "A street urchin you'd gone moony for, I remember the story. Was he nearly a century old? Was a he a king who paid your father for the privalege of torturing you? How young would the victim have to be before you were willing to intercede-"

A hand fastened around my wrist, vice-like and iron hard. I wanted to scrub even that small touch off of me, but I dared not pull at his grip. In a state like this, he would gladly rip my arm straight out of its socket. Deathly calm he pulled me close until he could whisper in my ear, " Enough ."

I forced air through my nose, lips pressed tight to avoid another… unwise tirade. I caught the telltale soap-floral scent of the girl's perfume, rose and something sweeter beneath it. So similar to my old fragrance… All at once I felt tired to my very bones. How much of myself must I carve away because of him? I felt very much like the Nameless; losing their identities bit by bit. The indulgently self-pitying thought refreshed my memory of my other reason for coming. I reached my free hand into my pocket and tugged out the pendant. It spun accusingly on the end of it's cord, flashing gold and scarlet in the firelight. "First, let me return this to you."

His already angry face darkened even further. "First a barb-tongued scold, now a thief." He plucked the necklace from my fingers, examining it closely.

I frowned. "Theif? I found it in my things the night of the gala, that I will swear in whatever language you like. Why would I bother to steal my own necklace, nevermind the fact that I don't even want the damned thing!"

"It couldn't very well have walked from my desk on its own!" Out of the corner of one eye, I caught Vera sidling off the piano bench and towards the door.

"Why don't you ask her?" I gestured with my chin at the not-so-sneaky thief.

Torix must have reached a similar conclusion, quirking his head to the side like an odd and angry bird. Vera sputtered, "Oh, sure, just a moment ago she was screaming at me and now you'll believe whatever she says?"

"It's true." Two words from Galbatorix put Vera back in a seat as surely as a slap. "My only question now is why you would do it?"

Vera wrang her hands, flustered and irritated. "You needed to move on…"

I suddenly wished I'd let him call me a theif. Better that than let this conversation carry on its course…

Torix scowled, releasing my hand exactly long enough to strike Vera across the cheek. Compared to the level of violence he released on any and everyone it was nothing, but I could tell from her reaction that it was not a staple of their relationship.

I jerked in place. Instinctively, I wanted to rip off his hands for raising one to my sister. And yet…the colder side of me wanted to slap her myself. Damned fool…

Torix gripped her chin in one hand, forcing their eyes to meet in a gesture I'd seen from the other side a thousand times. His voice was still beguiling and rich, but anger laced it like poison. " That was not your decision to make." She tried to nod, but it was futile. As he shifted his grip, a glint of light caught the ring on his left hand- a black opal set in a simple gold band… the one I'd made for him a billion years ago.

I couldn't watch any more. I dropped my eyes to the floor, more humiliated and disgusted than angry. Vera returned the necklace because she was troubled that he kept it? What madness is this?

Could it be that she really does have feelings for him? Katana's hypothesis seemed obvious under the circumstances, but it was still jarring. This whole time I assumed it was a petty revenge scheme; never did it occur to me that he'd bothered to charm her! Perhaps she was envious of any lingering attachment to you, perceived or otherwise.

If it was envy, then it was sorely misplaced. I glanced back at the scene as I heard Torix stalking toward me. He grabbed my wrist again and yanked me toward the door, but I caught an eyeful of Vera's mortified expression. One hand rested on her purpling cheek, dark eyes misted over with an emotion I knew all too well: hate . I think that might be "had" feelings. She's spent less time with him than I did; perhaps this will be enough to bring her to her senses?

No harm in hoping. Katana soothed me as best she could. I knew neither of us really believed the words, but we so desperately needed them.

He brought me down, down, down… To a chamber filled with hazy memories, foul instruments, smoke, and screams. Luckily (and I cannot believe I would use that word in this context) he needed plenty of space and light for his favorite implements. I recall only one more prevailing thought, "If this allows Vera to free herself, it would be worth it."

It's… hard to describe how I felt about my sister at this point. In a sense, I knew she was still a victim, even if she'd been complicit in making herself one. Anyone who gets tangled in Galbatorix's web has only my pity. But, though I considered her pitiful, I held a scalding resentment too. She could have gotten everything she wanted without smearing my name, without bedding a monster, without… selling her soul on the cheap. She took it too far… but did she ever have a choice? Did I? Where was the line between victim and co-conspirator… did I have any right to draw that line? And how dare I claim to be on one side and her on the other?

After many years of rumination, I finally settled on a compromise: I did not want to reconcile with her. I would be happiest if I never saw her face again. But neither did I want her to live and suffer under Galbatorix's influence. I could show her basic humanity without caring for her on any deeper level.

One of the many ways in which I differ from Torix.

He divides people into two distinct categories. Either you are precious to him and you are priceless, or you aren't and you are worthless. Only one person has ever straddled that line to my knowledge… but he has yet to be born.

On that subject…

I only got a few hours of rest that night, and those only because Torix grew bored of my diminishing responses. He probably would have left me in the cell overnight and into the next day- a kind of grounding I suppose, as it was literally underground- but we had that oh-so-crucial meeting with Morzan in the morning.

And glad I am that I didn't miss it.

True to form, only Torix and I were on time. The old meeting room had hardly changed in Torix's whole reign, dark wood table surrounded by two dozen high-backed chairs, cool marbled floors, and the dark-clad figure of the king seated at the head. The familiar setting called up a host of conflicting memories. So many decisions made in this room that led us to this moment. Was a single one of them correct? I shook off the train of thought- no use weeping for spilled mead now- and settled into a middle chair. I was still dressed for my morning workout: green linen trousers and tunic, daggers on my belt, hair tied back from my face, unwashed, and only half awake.

Balor and Beren entered soon after, the latter trailing behind the former like a surly bodyguard dressed in dark, plain clothing. It seemed as though Balor had yet to sleep since the night before, cheeks rosy with drink and lingering laughter obvious in his eyes. His curly mop was frizzy, his doublet wrinkled, and his collar stained with powder (the origin of which I could only guess). Balor walked straight to the seat directly opposite me, steepling his fingers precisely as he rested his thick elbows on the table. "Good morning, Princess. It's been a long time." Beren dropped into the chair at his left, blessedly silent as usual.

"Not long enough," I snapped. There was no reason to be anything close to cordial for this beast in a private setting. He and I had not been face to face since that miserable conversation in one of his brothels, but I'd given him enough grief since my return that I was sure he was planning my death. I wonder what Torix would say to that.

Before Balor could respond, the door opened again. To the shock of absolutely everyone, Formora arrived next. She was groomed with careless precision, red locks slicked back into a ponytail, her fox-like features grown only sharper and meaner with age. She was tiny but moderately tall, drowning in a cream, loose-sleeved chemise. A faun-brown vest clamped down the excessive fabric and blended into her pants, though the bottom of them were tucked into heavy workman's boots. I knew every single pound of her was pure muscle and spite, especially the characteristic glare she swept over the other four people in the room. "Since when does that rat-sucker get to summon us?" She snatched one of the end chairs and deposited it directly across from Galbatorix.

I marveled at that. Since when have those two had a rivalry? Sure, Formora had always been an angry whirlwind of a person, but even she gave Torix his due respect.

"He asked me to call a meeting and I agreed. Is that reasoning not sufficient for you?" Torix could play calm all he wanted, no one could miss the challenging edge of his words. Still, it seemed a weak defense.

Formora scoffed and kicked her boots up onto the table. "Not like I had anything better to do. I just wish the bastard would've been on time to his own damn meeting-"

The door opened, so slowly that even the well-tended hinges creaked. A tiny sprite of a woman slipped through the crack and the temperature of the room dropped like winter had returned early. Idril floated over to Torix, not so much as looking at any of us, and handed him a candy wrapped in bright purple paper.

He accepted it politely, setting it gingerly on the table as if it might burst into flames. "Another successful experiment?"

"No." Of all the Forsworn, Idril had changed the least: she had not a single new line, wrinkle, spot, not even a scar. Her hair was the same, she wore the same three teal dresses on rotation, cut to make her look even younger than she was. Her eyes, churning honey-pits of icy scrutiny, fixed on me as she turned her head sharply to the side. "You're alive."

I swallowed. I couldn't help it. No matter how much I traveled, fought, studied, and suffered… Idril was still beyond my understanding. "As far I can tell."

Idril shrugged and said, "It's only temporary." If it had been anyone else, I would have sworn she was… reassuring me?

Torix patted her hand as if she were just a precocious child. "Have a seat. Morzan will come soon."

"Don't touch me." She sat crosslegged in the seat at his left, unbothered by him or anything else.

I did a quick scan of the room. I saw ghosts around the table. To me, they seemed more real than the living. Gelmir was draped on Gildor's lap, both smiling and content. Amroth hovered moodily in a corner; he always wanted to be the first out of the room (a fact which made all of us very nervous, given his skill set.) Siyamak sat across from the twins, usually talking with Kialandi at his elbow about a recent area of study. Kia always made her rounds to girls first (later in life that even included me!), calming Formora, focusing Idril, and always making sure that Eltereth felt included… when she was around, anyway. Then, quietly sipping from a flask and pretending to be half-dozing, would be Xanist, grey-streaked hair falling over his keen blue eyes, secret smiles that he shared only with me buried under faux boredom.

It was shocking how much our group had shrunk. And, of course, only the nastiest of them remain. A pimp and his pedophilic friend, a loud-mouthed brute of a woman, whatever Idril is, and Galba- fucking-Torix.

Then the door opened a final time.

Morzan looked… good. In fact, he hadn't looked better in all the time I'd known him. He was clean-shaven, his hair was freshly washed and healthy, he was dressed in a deep wine tunic edged in glinting gold thread, shiny black boots properly maintained for probably the first time in his whole life. He stood tall, smiled, and most strangely of all seemed… sober ? "Gooood morning family! Have you missed me?" He walked right to Formora's chair and hugged her from behind, messing up her hair like they were rowdy children and not internationally loathed criminals.

She snarled and swatted at him, but there was no real venom in it. She looked more shocked than I felt. "Who spiked your porridge, what did they use, and where can I get some?"

Torix chuckled, rising from his seat and approaching the man. Considering the lingering hostilities the last time I'd seen them together, I expected Morzan to swing at him. Instead, he threw both powerful arms around the shorter man and made a concentrated effort to squeeze him to death. I looked away, suddenly feeling like I was intruding on a very private moment. Torix sighed and said, "It's good to have you home, Mommy."

"Daddy, you're embarrassing me!" Morzan fanned his face theatrically, starting to faint in Formora's direction.

She pushed her chair back from the table and let him crash to the floor with a yelp. Her feet came down from the table to rest on Morzan's chest. "I'm still waiting for an answer, ass-"

Morzan smirked, grabbed one of her ankles and pulled her unceremoniously to the floor. She tensed to pounce on him, but he was faster. He jumped to his feet, dragged Formora back onto hers, and started waltzing… with Formora hanging stubbornly from his hands like a rag doll. "Love! I'm in love with a beautiful girl!"

Balor rolled his eyes. "If female company was all you were lacking, you should have paid me a visit."

Morzan halted his dance and dropped Formora back into her chair (she was growling and would have probably started foaming at the mouth if he held her a moment longer). "Not a chance! There isn't another girl like her in all the world!"

I whistled. "Wow, and this coming from the defacto queen. It seems you have a competitor, Torix."

"Not a chance," Galbatorix echoed sarcastically. "But enough of this suspense; who is she?"

Morzan straightened his shirt and belt to a more presentable state. "Right," he cleared his throat and opened the door wide, "It is my great honor and pleasure to introduce to you the loveliest, funniest, charmiing-est, best-est woman in all the world: my wife , Selena."

She was unassuming at first glance. Her shapely figure was hidden under a dress of faded blue wool. Gleaming chestnut hair was plaited to her mid back, though some strands had loosened to float around her face. She stepped into the room; demure grace a surprising contrast to her new husband's flamboyance. Despite her rouch exterior, the woman curtsied like any court lady. "I am honored to meet all of you." Her voice was a rich contralto; the kind of voice made lullabies and folk songs around a winter fire. "Morzan has spoken very highly of you all, particularly you, Your Majesty."

It takes a hell of a person to make Galbatorix- long-time lover of his own voice- speechless. When he did find words, they were gentler than he would typically use. "I believe the honor is all ours, my lady. If I may, how did you meet our Morzan?."

"I'm no lady," she added shyly. As she rose from her curtsy, I finally got a good look at her face. Her eyes were particularly breathtaking. They were a startingly bright grey, like liquid moonlight. They shone with confidence and mischief, perfectly matching her uneven top lip (which gave her resting expression the ghost of a semi-smirk). "I was in Therinsford with my brother on an errand. I ran into Morzan in the local tavern-"

" She challenged me to a drinking contest." The big man cut in, looping an arm around his bride's waist. "And won!"

She giggled in that warm, welcoming voice. Morzan beamed like a schoolboy watching his first star fall; like she was his entire world. "I have a hollow leg."

"Whole hollow body more like it!" Morzan winked at Torix. "I paid for the beer and then we went for a walk-"

"Working hard as always?" Balor teased.

Morzan ignored him and continued, "- and we got to talking… we have so much in common! She was even able to handle my-"

Faster than I thought a human could have moved, her hand smacked back into Morzan's chest. " Honey ," she grinned stiffly and lifted an eyebrow at him.

Morzan blushed and rubbed the back of his neck with a goofy grin plastered on his face. "Right. Well, anyway, I asked her to come home with me. We talked about the future a little bit on the way to the estate and, by the time we got home-"

"We decided there'd be no point wasting time." Selena's joy radiated like sunshine in a room full of only our gloomy arses.

"What's wrong with her?" Idril whispered. [ Oh mother of all ironies… ]

Formora snorted, "Aside from the fact that she likes Morzan? No idea. But hey," She staggered out of her chair and slapped the red rider on the back. "Congratulations on tricking her into it!"

Morzan hugged Formora, either intentionally ignoring her snide comment or too happy to care, "Thanks!" Morzan reached into a pouch on his belt and produced a glazed clay bottle covered in elven runes and eight tiny clay cups; one of his precious reserves of faelnirv "Now, a toast!"

Everyone but Idril formed a little cluster around the couple, bombarding them with questions, praises, , and promises of a party to rival even the solstice ball! As the men (and Formora) latched onto Morzan's side to interogate him, the other half of the newly wed couple drifted over to me. "You're Lilly, right?" I nodded and she extended a hand, "You're one of the people I've heard the most about."

"Don't believe a word he says." I accepted her hand, shocked at how rough her skin felt against mine. Clearly her hands had been worn down by some serious hard labour; the meanest of peasasants. A picture of my poor Anthony came to mind; a cattle herd turned soldier that had been tossed into politics by his reckless heart. She has no idea what she's getting into.

"I don't," she winked, "though I heard you have good taste in wine?"

It took me a moment to realize she was responding to my words and not my thoughts. "That's true enough I suppose, but you should still stay skeptical of anything he tells you."

"Well, of course; he's a man." She giggled again, and I felt my carefulyl constructed walls melting.

I favored her with a faelnirv-induced grin. "Us girls have to stick together."

She gave me an appraising look, keen eyes measuring my offer with a wariness I couldn't have expected from a rural girl. Once she gauged my trustworthiness, she returned my smile with a truly dazzling one of her own. "Yes, we must. Can't let their egos run unchecked, now can we?"

Maybe she can survive us, I mused. Respect mingled with my fascination for the woman. "I think we will get along famously."

-:- -:- -:-

After another few hours of polite buzzing, the gathering inevitably dispersed. Morzan picked up Selena bridal-style (of course) and carried her off, whistling a jaunty tune. Formora hurled loving insults after the "sickly-sweet" pair. Balor and Beren departed off to their own endeavors, I didn't ask exactly what. By then I had nearly managed my escape when a heavy hand fell on my shoulder. "Lilleth, wait a moment." Galbatorix's voice was low enough that the daydreaming blonde wraith would not overhear.

I cursed silently and turned, staring at him suspiciously. "If you're fishing for an apology, you can-"

He flicked my forehead in quick reproach, then took my right hand in his left and raised it to chest height. By the time I'd finished rubbing the sore spot away, I felt the cool tingling of a thin chain pooling in my extended palm. I glanced down and frowned at an all-too-familiar pendant. "What is this?"

His lips tightened until they nearly disappeared beneath his mustache. "It was made to be yours. I have no use for it and giving it to a lesser creature would be tantamount to blasphemy."

I frowned, all too aware of the fact that any praise from him was only a thin glaze of sugar over the bitterest hatred. "I can destroy it, if you'd prefer?"

His expression dared to be equal parts saddened and betrayed. "You should wear it."

Will you make it an order? I wanted to challenge him, but I knew it would only result in either a self-fulfilling prophecy or an explosion of wrath. Instead, I shrugged. "It's a valuable tool. I'll keep it if it means so much to you," I felt unclean even pretending to compromise with him, "but I need a show of good faith in return." He stayed quiet, so I continued, "I want one of the swords from the treasury." Galbatorix's collection of treasures was one of the most impressive ever amassed by a single person. And, in that considerable horde, few rivaled the value of the rider swords he'd salvaged from the war and the Forsworn's corpses. I'd never trained with the order; thus having neither opportunity nor right to lay claim to a rider's blade. Even so, they were powerful objects in their own right and unmatched by any other weapon in the world.

He sighed. I expected him to take the pendant back and drop the matter; wearing a certain piece of jewelry was in no way equal to a priceless treasure. Torix's shoulder drooped in surrender. "You drive a hard bargain, finiaril." Gods it felt awful to hear heartfelt praise from a man who'd been tearing me to pieces not five hours earlier. Could this be… guilt? Is he even capable of that?

No, he isn't. Katana- dear, sweet, precious Katana- interjected pointedly. He knows he's losing Vera.

I swallowed hard. Thank you for being my voice of reason.

Imagine how things would have been if you'd listened back then. We both knew that our lives were too unpredictable to make any assumptions about "what ifs," but her point was a prudent and well-deserved one.

Torix released me and turned away. "We will meet in the morning. I expect to see that pendant on your person."

Yet more strings attached to the same gift. I bowed to his back, face studiously empty. "Tomorrow then."

In the corner of my vision, I saw Idril's golden head poking out from under the table. She scooted like a worm until she was right under me. "I'll come too. We like the jingly room." Any time Idril used a plural pronoun, I knew she was referring to her dragon. The creature was probably the saddest of them all… and just as uncanny as their rider.

I righted myself and backed away slowly. Idril remained on the floor, humming to herself and occasionally giggling. Torix settled into a chair next to her, bent over as if he were listening to the tune.

Idril's antics aside for now…

The world doesn't create masterpieces like Selena every day. She had an ease and freedom to her charm that made her so very easy to love. If she were a lesser man's husband, she would have been fighting off potential paramours day and night. As it was, she became the darling of Morzan's household; every servant cared for her like their own family.

I… also grew to love her in my own way.

In our few hours of ease, we would often stir up trouble together. We'd sit up into the wee hours; drinking and playing cards and swapping stories. Once we snuck out of the castle and-... Well, perhaps that particular tale need not enter this collection. If I ranted until I was spent, I would fill an entire volume just singing Selena's praises. She was a desperately needed and deeply appreciated injection of life and levity to our miserable lives.

Of course, the clever reader will know exactly where this is heading: how would my "mother" manage to ruin it? I have to confess… this time in particular, he had a bit of help.

AN: A little shorter this week; easier for me to write and for you to read. I finally got to bother my wonderful beta Ms. Aqua again! TwT I feel so much better.

Also, I can't resist the urge to add the comment she left at the bottom of the document XD

"Aqua: And that, Murtagh, is how I met your mother."

Like aaaah I love this woman so much she understands the energy so well!

Unrelated note, part of this took place in chapter 19/31 in my first draft .
Next week, enters MURTAGH (in his squishiest form, of course). He won't get to do much for a while yet, but I'm so glad he's nearly here!