Warnings: same as chapter 1

Part 2: storm

"It doesn't take a reason to love someone, but it does to like someone. You don't love someone because you want to, you love someone because you're destined to. It's because you fall in Love with them, that you then try to find a reason, but you always come up with the answer, No reason!" ~Author Unknown

When Eragon woke, grey light had replaced the morning sunlight that had illuminated the room when he had first entered. He stared at the sandstone ceiling for a couple minutes. The events that had transpired since he had entered the room surfaced in his mind. It had to have have been a dream, a wonderful dream, but a dream nonetheless. His heartbeat quickened as he remembered the way Murtagh had looked at him. The other man's eyes dark with lust. Eragon rubbed his hands over his face, as if that could wipe the image from his mind.

He braced himself for the sharp pain that he had become accustomed to in the last few days from his wounds, when he pushed himself up in bed there was none. He stood up and walked over to the mirror that hung on the section of the wall that was not made of glass and twisted in front of it, examining the pale lines that ran across his chest and shoulder. The skin was slightly uneven under his fingers, but whole once again. Not even the slightest trace of pain remained when he pressed on the marks. It hadn't been a dream after all. A mixture of shock and excitement welled up in Eragon. Trying to distract himself from the confusing emotions that were twisting through his mind, he turned to examine the room. He hadn't gotten a good look at it before. The reason why making his face heat. He shook his head to clear his thoughts.

The room was large, easily big enough for a dragon to move around in without discomfort. On one side of the large round bed, closer to the wood paneling that made up a third of the walls, a porcelain depression was sunk into the stone floor. Upon further inspection, Eragon recognized it as one of the elves' bath tubs like the one that resided in his tree house in Ellesmera. It was a surprise that he would come across one in the middle of the Empire, but it made since considering that Uru'baen had been an elven city long before the fall of the riders.

The only other furniture in the room was a small wood desk and a matching chair set against the end of the glass wall and, on the side of the bed opposite from the tub, a blue couch. Eragon frowned slightly as he notice a white object set on the blue cushions. The object turned out to be a pile of clothes with a note set on top. He picked up the note carefully, as if the parchment would bite him, and unfolded it. He read Murtagh's surprisingly legible script. The note included brief instructions on how to use the bath tub and how to open a hidden panel in the wall that apparently acted as a closet. It was signed,

See you tonight. ~Murtagh

Eragon's face reddened and he read the last line three more times. He placed the note carefully on the cushion next to him and examined the clothes. They were simple, but well made and no doubt expensive. The shirt was white and long sleeved with elaborate gold embroidery around the opening for his head and the edges of the sleeves. The pants were a plain tan. He put them back down, realizing how disgusting his own clothes were. His skin was covered in a layer of dried sweat and a thicker substance lower down. His heart sped up as he remembered the feel of Murtagh's calloused hand on his length. The memory was almost enough to make him hard and he quickly distracted himself with the bath in an attempt to calm down.

The valves that started the flow of water into the tub were easy enough to find behind one of the wood panels. Eragon undressed, tossing his soiled clothes into a heap on the floor, and sighed as he slowly lowered his body into the steaming water. The heat helped soothe the slight aches that still emanated from the bruises he had acquired during his fight with Murtagh. Outside, storm clouds formed in the distance. They swirled together in an angry mix, much like Eragon's thoughts. Right now he didn't want to have to deal with his confusing and conflicted emotions. He didn't want to have to deal with any of this.

Murtagh. His heart skipped as his thoughts flitted once again to their morning activities. He didn't know how to feel about the other rider. On the one hand, he had been his closest friend and ally while fleeing the Empire, and even after they had reached the Varden. He had trusted the other teen with his life, but... there was still the sting of betrayal buried deep in Eragon's heart. Murtagh had betrayed him, hurt him both physically and mentally. He had dragged him here and in doing so, condemned him into a life of endless servitude to Galbatorix. He should hate Murtagh. Despise him, curse him even, so why could he only think of the other rider with affection. No matter how hard he tried to hate him, he couldn't. This frustrated him to the point that he slammed the side of fist into the wood paneled wall. The first flash of lightning illuminated the now dark sky, illustrating his anger in a burst of white light. Eragon sank farther into the water, watching the storm start to fight its way across the sky as he tried to decide what he should do.

x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x

The sky was almost pitch black, throwing Murtagh's room into darkness. He didn't bother to light a lamp or brighten the room with magic. Every couple of seconds a bright flash would illuminate the room and the wood door he was watching intently. Would Eragon even come after their last encounter? He hadn't planned on forcing himself on the younger rider right then and there. He was going to explain the room's accommodations and ask him to come to his room later that night so they could talk. Then he would explain the feelings that had slowly been growing in him since the other rider's arrival and Eragon would throw his arms around his neck and they would kiss, which would eventually lead to something much more satisfying, after all, this was Murtagh's fantasy and he could have it play out however he waned.

Of course things couldn't be that simple, nothing ever was when it came to the hot headed rider. He had just looked so damn hot, Murtagh hadn't been able to keep his hands off him. Then everything had escalated from there. His only saving grace at this point was the fact that he had managed to stop himself from raping the other rider. Now Eragon probably hated him and it'd be a miracle if the other teen forgave him, let alone came to his room like he'd requested.

Who knows what he thinks of me now, Murtagh thought, brooding.

It was unlike him to regret doing something in the past which he couldn't change. No. He wouldn't regret his actions. Now at least even if Eragon never spoke to him again he knew what it was like to share a few minutes of bliss with him.

A tentative knock on his door almost made him jump. He stared at the door, not daring to hope he had heard right.

The knock came again, stronger this time, followed by Eragon's annoyed voice, "Hey, are you gonna let me in? I mean, you're the one that invited me in the first place." Despite the annoyed attitude, Murtagh could hear the slight tremor that shook the other rider's words. Murtagh took a second to compose himself and, thinking it better to let Eragon make the first move, said, "Come in, the door's open." After a short pause, the door swung open slowly to reveal the rider that had been flitting through his thoughts all day. Eragon stepped into the room, shutting the door behind him. He was wearing the clothes Murtagh had set out for him. A cute blush tinted his now fair elfin skin and Murtagh had to clench his fists to resist his urge to press Eragon against the wall and start ravishing those pale pink lips of his. If he scared the other rider off now, he'd lose his only chance at fixing their relationship. He didn't dare move from his chair, regarding the other teen as a skittish rabbit that would take flight at the slightest movement.

x X x

Eragon fought the overwhelming emotions that were bottled up inside him. He had ended up going to Murtagh's room, but he still didn't have an answer to the offer the older rider had made him. Everything he thought of pertaining to him pointed to the fact that deep down, despite his arguments against it, he was falling for Murtagh. Hard. Just being in the same room as the other rider was making him feel awkward and causing his face to heat. He couldn't even manage to look Murtagh in the eyes, and ended up looking defiantly at the white marble floor instead. Despite his surfacing feelings of attraction, he still couldn't embrace Murtagh completely with his recent betrayal between them. Wait, did that mean he was actually considering accepting Murtagh's feelings and the unspoken consequences that went with them? This sudden revelation took him by surprise, and he realized he wanted nothing more than to fling his arms around Murtagh and seal their lips in a searing kiss. But, still...

Eragon glanced up at Murtagh who was watching him intently. He kept his expression neutral, but Eragon could see a mixture of apprehension, hope, and lust in his grey eyes. He didn't say anything, obviously waiting for Eragon to make the first move. Eragon glanced at the floor once more, then looked up and met Murtagh's gaze, this time with hard determination.

"I want to know why you did this to me," he gestured around the room, his hand shaking slightly in anger.

"I'm sorry about earlier, I-"

Eragon cut him off, "Not what you did earlier," he felt his face turn an even deeper shade of red, "Why you betrayed me." his voice suddenly broke as raw emotions overwhelmed him for a moment, almost causing tears to well up in his eyes. He hoped the crack in his voice would be denoted as anger rather than hurt. Murtagh watched him silently until he got control of his emotions once more. His voice sounded more hollow when he spoke next, "I was your friend, your ally. I want to know why you beat me to a pulp and brought me here," Murtagh winced slightly, "I want," he trailed off, then looked deep into Murtagh's eyes as he spoke his next words carefully, "I want to know if you captured me because you were ordered to or because you wanted to beat me, to see me laying at your feet and know that you were stronger than me. Did you betray me against your will, or has the king twisted you enough that you enjoyed fulfilling his orders," Eragon looked back down to the floor and his voice shook slightly, "How am I supposed to trust you, especially when the king can control you?"

The two of them stood in silence for a moment, then Murtagh said softly, yet in a commanding tone, "Eragon, look at me." Eragon hesitated, then slowly raised his face to look at Murtagh. The other rider's fierce grey eyes were filled with an overwhelming passion. In them, Eragon saw nothing but raw love and determination. The intensity of those emotions being directed at him was almost enough to make him take a step back.

"I love you," Murtagh began in that strangely calm, yet emotional voice of his, "make no mistake about that. When Galbatorix ordered me to capture you I refused, so he used my true name and forced me to go. Until then, I had just wanted to forget you and how it felt to ride across the entire empire with you, knowing I had finally met someone who would die for me, something not even my parents would do. But when I confronted you, I lost it," anger and grief crept into his voice, "The pent up anger I felt towards you for being free without sparing me a second thought, while I was trapped as the king's slave burst out and I attacked you without regard. It got to the point where I began fighting Galbatorix in my mind instead of you," he looked away and his voice lowered, "Thorn forced me back to my senses right as you passed out. After that I didn't want to face you again or even remember that you existed. Things were less painful that way, but the king forced me to go calm you down and-," he trailed off.

"I didn't know," Eragon said quietly. Murtagh frowned slightly. Eragon tried again, "I din't know Galbatorix had captured you. When I tried to scry you after we found your bloody clothes all I got was darkness...I thought you were dead. I mourned you, we all did. If I had known..."

"You know now and that's what matters to me. There's nothing you can do about the past."

Silence filled the room. Murtagh sighed deeply and the fierce determination he had from before returned to his features.

He locked eyes with Eragon and said, "As far as your original question, all I know is that I love you and I swear to you that I will never hurt you again unless Galbatorix forces me to with my true name, and even then I'll fight against that bastard's orders until I'm ripped to shreds before I willingly hurt you. I can't explain how this happened or how I feel, but-"

Eragon cut him off with a forceful kiss, nearly knocking murtagh out of his chair. His eyes widened in a rare display of emotion.

Eragon looked into them and said softly, "I know. I understand how you feel, because, I feel it too." He felt heat flush his face at his verbal admission of his feelings for the other rider. The only doubt that had stood between them had been obliterated and the affection he had felt for Murtagh earlier that day now fully overwhelm him. He couldn't help but smile and planted a tender kiss on Murtagh's lips. The contact seemed to shake the other rider out of his shocked state because he quickly responded, turning the once gentle kiss into something fierce and possessive.

Murtagh stood up, pulling Eragon to him and opening his mouth to deepen the kiss. Was this really happening? If it was a dream, his muddled brain decided, he never wanted to wake up. The two of them explored each other's mouths with their tongues taking in the other's taste. Their tongues twisted and turned around each other, completing a dance as old as time. Eragon was too enthralled in their passionate duet to notice that Murtagh was slowly working them over to the windows. He jumped slightly when his back made contact with the cold glass. Murtagh smirked and spun him around so that he could see the storm raging outside. Flashes of lightening streaked across the sky and dark storm clouds swirled around them, sending wave after wave of water at them. A sliver of fear entered Eragon. He had never seen such a bad storm before, let alone been in the center of one in a glass tower.

Murtagh's solid arms wrapped around him and the other rider murmured in his ear, "Breath taking isn't it?" Eragon sucked in a short breath at the rich lust that coated Murtagh's voice. He could feel the older teen smirk against his neck, which sent a spike of need through him, renewing his own lust. A loud thunder clap shook the glass slightly. Murtagh' s hand snaked its way slowly under the waist band of Eragon's pants. Eragon's knees shook slightly and he had to brace himself against the glass to stay upright. Murtagh's hand finally made it inside his pants and firmly gripped his length.

"Hard already," Murtagh chuckled against his neck. Eragon tried to shoot him a glare but its effect was lost by a low moan that the other rider forced from his lips with a rough tug. Love, Lust, and adrenalin, from his fear of being burned to a crisp, churned through Eragon, making his body sing with bottled up energy. He thrust into Murtagh's hand, looking desperately for a way to release all those pent up feelings at once. The grand flashes of the battle waging outside, Murtagh's purrs, lust, the rough hand gripping him, it was all too much. Eragon threw his head back as he gave one final thrust and released everything churning inside him, screaming to the heavens as a blinding flash of white lit up the sky around them.

He dimly registered Murtagh's strong arms supporting his limp body and carrying him, before he was gently lowered onto something soft. His mind was too fuzzy from the high of his climax to register that he was being undressed. Then something slick and cold was circling his hole. He struggled to open his eyes to see what it was, but the hangover of pleasure from his climax prevented him from opening his eyes. It prodded his entrance a few times, then gently slid past his ring of muscle. Eragon's eyes flew open and he fought to clear his vision. A colossal wave of heat washed over his face as he took in the sight before him. He was on his back in Murtagh's bed, his legs spread before the kneeling rider as Murtagh's hand disappeared... his length twitched at the thought of the place that hand now occupied.

x X x

Murtagh glanced at Eragon's now erect cock and smiled, turning the other rider's face an even darker shade of red. At this rate, the younger rider was going to turn into a tomato. He carefully slipped another finger inside his entrance, causing Eragon to jerk at the sensation. Murtagh frowned. Was he in pain? The last thing he wanted was to hurt Eragon. He reached for the bottle of oil he had placed on the floor next to the bed and covered the fingers on his free hand with oil before slowly sliding them up Eragon's shaft. The other rider sucked in his breath at the sudden contact and then let out a low moan. Murtagh took that as a sign that he could continue stretching Eragon. He cautiously started scissoring his fingers as he massaged Eragon's length. The other rider didn't seem to mind the fingers anymore, so he added another one. Each moan that escaped Eragon's lips sent a thrill through his heart. The hatred and misunderstandings that had stood between them had been obliterated. Now he felt only love for Eragon and he could see the same feeling reflected back to him in the other rider's eyes. After a couple more scissoring motions, Murtagh removed his fingers. His eyes widened slightly. Had he imagined the small whine of protest when his fingers had retreated? Eragon looked up at him, his eyes glazed over with lust.

"Eragon," Murtagh said huskily, trying to hold back his need to thrust into the waiting body spread out before him. The heated look Eragon was giving him was not helping his self control in the least. He swallowed and tried again, "Is this really what you want?" Eragon frowned slightly. Why wouldn't he want this blissful pleasure, especially from Murtagh?

He looked into Murtagh's eyes, trying to impress the depth of love and need he felt for him as he said, "Murtagh, I love you, and, I want this." He was serious about what he said, but now that his head was somewhat clear he couldn't help the slight fear that settled over him at the thought of what they were about to do. He had never been with anyone before, let alone a guy, and didn't know what to expect.

Murtagh caught his uncertainty and whispered soothingly, "It'll hurt at first, but it will get better. I'll try to make it as painless as possible." With that Murtagh couldn't hold himself back anymore and penetrated Eragon in one fluid thrust. He gasped sharply at the tight warmth that surrounded him, the only thing keeping him from fucking the other rider into the mattress being Eragon's pain filled expression. He felt Eragon's muscles clench around him and reached around to massage small circles on the younger rider's back.

"You have to relax Eragon," He whispered soothingly. Eragon nodded slightly. Murtagh smiled, meeting Eragon's mouth in a kiss. He felt the rider's muscles slowly unclench through his ministrations. He looked deep into Eragon's eyes and slowly started a few shallow thrusts. When Eragon's face didn't screw up in pain, he lifted Eragon's legs over his shoulders and slid as deep as he could go into the wanton body squirming under him. This was pure heaven. He soon lost his shredded self control and began thrusting harder into Eragon, grunting with each effort. The other rider was much more vocal, moaning his name over and over, encouraging, no, begging him to continue. He grinned when Eragon screamed, knowing he had found his prostate. Murtagh angled his hips and thrust even harder, nailing the younger rider's prostate again. Eragon desperately pulled Murtagh in for a sloppy kiss, snapping his hips down to meet the older rider's thrusts. It only took two more hits to his prostate before Eragon came, screaming Murtagh's name at the top of his lungs. Murtagh felt Eragon's muscles tighten around him and groaned, thrusting as hard as he could two more times. He thrust as far as he could into the younger rider and came, shouting Eragon's name for the whole world to hear. He collapsed in a panting heap on Eragon, the other rider having already passed out. When he finally caught his breath, he pulled out of the sleeping rider and pulled the crimson covers up over them. Murtagh pulled Eragon against his chest, sighing when the younger rider snuggled closer. He was content, sated, and most of all tired. He smiled and murmured one last thing against Eragon's hair before he drifted to sleep.

"I love you Eragon."