A/N: I know this took long. But I didn't dare write the epilogue, because it's the last piece of the story, and it makes me sad. I loved writing this fic, it was an incredible experience. I don't even know what I'm going to do now in the afternoons (and evenings, and nights xD), maybe start having a life again? Who knows.

1. In the beginning I just started writing, wanting to get into the routine, and did not pay much attention to many things and knew even less. For example, I was too new to fanfiction to know what the general opinion on rape fics is (even though it's not an OC being raped), so I simply wrote the story that was in my head. Maybe it was good this way.

2. Why "Autumn Bliss"? Well, "Autumn", because that's when the story takes place, and "Bliss", because the days before I started writing, I listened a lot to the song "Bliss" by the band "Muse" and thus the title was born.

Reviews:

-orene treke: Maybe the author knows best, but he/she doesn't have to like it either, right? ;)

-moony the chupz: I know, but here's the thing: this fic is not a feeble attempt at coping with all the issues of book three, this is only about the guys' relationship. BUT I'm kind of leaving open the option of a sequel, right? I just don't know yet if I'll ever write it.

-Tears Falling Freely: I'm glad you liked the lemon… it's pretty hard to write it for me – which came kind of surprisingly, because in my head it's very clear ;)

-animeluva 713: :bows: Gracias. I hope future fics will be to your liking as well. ;)

-Zack-Cody-Dylan-Cole: Yeah, he was kind of cute, I think.

-Jack Skellington's Mistress: And I think it's so true… ;)


Epilogue

10th Hunting Moon


Carefully Murtagh led Eragon through the small door into the hut. The warm, humid air surrounded him immediately and he saw his brother relax. The few steps from the main house here had already been enough to chill them both.

Unmistakably curious but calm, Eragon stood next to Murtagh, eyes still blindfolded, trustfully awaiting what would come next. It had surprised Murtagh to hear that on his many inspection tours through the house, Eragon had not bothered to take a look at the estate buildings. He was sure that it would make the surprise even better.

They would leave the mansion tomorrow, would probably never lay eyes on Breoch again. War was awaiting them, their path overshadowed by danger and peril and, because of Murtagh, they would not even be safe with their allies.

But this night was theirs. And it was going to be one to remember for the dark times ahead.

Slowly Murtagh removed the cloth that was covering Eragon's eyes and with satisfaction he watched the younger one take in his surroundings. It was a small, one-room building, dominated by a copper bathing tub and a large fireside next to it, on which hung a big kettle to heat water. Murtagh had been here previously and everything was prepared – it was the perfect timing. The tub was filled with water and a light steam hung in the air above it. The fire was blazing and filled the hut with a golden light.

"Oh, this is awesome, I-" Eragon sounded amazed, but Murtagh quickly laid a finger on his lips, silently asking him to be quiet. They had agreed not to talk and Eragon smiled apologetically, but then gestured with his arms, eyes gleaming, to get his point across. Murtagh smiled back and nodded. The thought of a warm bath with Eragon was almost intoxicating.

He grabbed Eragon's hand and led him to the bathtub where they both undressed swiftly, eager to get warm again.

Eragon slid into the water first and a long, contented sigh escaped him. Murtagh went in afterwards, sat down opposite of Eragon and closed his eyes. He had thought about this for days, but always postponed it. If he had remembered just how good it felt, he would have come here weeks ago. On the other hand, now he would not have to enjoy this on his own, so it would be even better. He opened his eyes again and saw bright blue ones sparkle at him, keen to go on. He complied readily and shifted, until after some tangling and untangling of their limbs he came to rest behind Eragon.

The water was up to their chests and Murtagh observed small drops of sweat breaking out on Eragon's shoulders and neck. He swiftly brought down his lips and tasted the salty, earthy flavour that was his love. Bit by bit his tongue traced its way upwards till he reached the left earlobe and nibbled at it gently. Eragon moaned quietly and relaxed against Murtagh completely. His right hand rested on Murtagh's calf and stroked it leisurely. The older one could tell that there was no fear, no anxiety, not even nervousness in Eragon's posture. He loosened up as well, sure to have found the way to make it alright.

For a few nights now they had slept with each other, but so far it had always been Eragon on top of him – or behind him, Murtagh corrected himself with a grin – and at times the younger one had taken him so forcefully that Murtagh was rather sore. But he knew that if Eragon wanted it again later tonight, he would not deny it. There was simply no way of turning him down – ever. It was an amazingly intense experience. But still, he wanted to be in control again.

He embraced the body in front of him, resting his chin on Eragon's left shoulder, and began to caress the well-built chest, making the young man shiver. Murtagh felt how his arousal began to be noticeable and pressed himself against the back of Eragon, wanting him to feel it, too, wanting to hear him. True enough a little groan broke the silence of the room. Satisfied, Murtagh reached lower down and got hold of the hard cock waiting there for him. He closed his hand firmly around it and began to slide it up and down with determined strokes.

At some point in the second night that they had had sex, Eragon had asked him if he did not miss being the active one. Murtagh had replied with a definite 'no' – which had been the only possible answer after the fuck that Eragon had given him just minutes before. Yet now that it was drawing near so rapidly, he knew it was not quite true. He missed it, missed it a lot, and he was eager to both pleasure the young one but also bury himself in him.

He bit down on Eragon's neck and then got up swiftly, ignoring the little sound of protest and questioning eyes following his every move. He reached for the oil at the side of the tub and rubbed it on his erection before sitting down again. Blessed be the different properties of water and oil!

Knowing what was to come, Eragon turned his head, smiled at him and next pursed his lips, demanding a kiss. Murtagh bent forward and granted it to him willingly, once more making contact between his right hand and Eragon's need. Still kissing his brother intensely, Murtagh brought his second hand between their bodies and moved it down the back. He squeezed one butt cheek firmly, feeling Eragon thrust into his hand in response, and then went further until his index finger reached the opening. Hesitating only for an instant, he pushed it in tentatively.

Eragon did not tense for one second. He had said that he was ready, but Murtagh found it almost unbelievable to see just how much Eragon trusted him, how untroubled he was right now. Encouraged, he pressed on and then moved his finger in and out, getting the other one used to the feeling. He still had the solid erection securely in his right and stroked it harder, at the same time moving in a second finger. Eragon stiffened shortly, but then relaxed again, matters being so different and so much better than he recalled.

Murtagh felt close to bursting and decided it was high time. He brought both hands to the slender waist and lifted Eragon a few inches until he felt the head of his cock at the opening. Very carefully he lowered Eragon onto his lap and sensed how his erection moved in the first inch.

He paused like that for a moment, enjoying the tightness around his organ, and then pushed in further. He felt the close ring of muscles very distinctively when he passed it. A muted scream of delight pierced the air and he knew it was coming from his lungs.

He stopped as the blond had stiffened once more. But then Eragon leaned back, stretched his neck until his mouth reached Murtagh's chin and kissed it from underneath, slowly moving upwards along the bone until he reached the ear. At the same time he pushed himself down, whimpering quietly, but staying where he was.

For a short moment Murtagh moved one hand away from the hip and slid it all the way down from the top of Eragon's head, along his chest, tummy, and finally it came to rest on his cock. He touched it gently until Eragon's left enclosed his hand and applied pressure. Soon after, Eragon placed the hand on his hip again, signalling noticeably what he wanted.

Obliging all too keenly, Murtagh raised him a little before bringing him down swiftly, feeling both their hearts race. Slowly the nervous breathing of the younger one turned into small sounds of pleasure and he grabbed the brim of the tub to become independent from Murtagh moving him.

Murtagh kissed the neck next to his mouth tenderly, licking away the sweat drops. Once Eragon moved up and down on his own, Murtagh caressed the other's erection again, matching the rhythm perfectly. His low growls were suddenly joined by a loud moan from Eragon, who had apparently found the position that hit his special spot.

"What... is that?" Little by little Eragon increased his pace and cried out again and again.

Murtagh could hardly speak, his climax was nearing rapidly. "Ta-talk. Later." He felt the cock in his hand twitch, and seconds later Eragon's whole body contracted, squeezing Murtagh inside of him mercilessly. It was enough to blacken Murtagh's vision and with a last thrust into the tight opening he came.

They both slackened noticeably afterwards, panting hard. Murtagh hugged Eragon closely from behind and the younger one turned his head again until their lips met briefly. After that he relaxed into the embrace, leant his head against Murtagh's shoulder and closed his eyes.

Now only the quiet crackling of the fire was to be heard, and an occasional splash of water when one of them shifted a little.

Murtagh was very aware of the handsome body in his arms that was finally turning muscular again. He also felt the soft, wet hair on his shoulder as well as the regular, strong heartbeat that joined his own so perfectly.

Here he was, holding the person that he loved from the bottom of his heart. Knowing that this person loved him back just as much.

Maybe fate did not hate him after all.