Disclaimer – I don't own Inheritance. If I did it wouldn't be so damn depressing.
Author's Note – take this as a sequel to 'the sound of his voice, the touch of his hand' if you will, the oneshot I posted yesterday :P
Here you go, to all who wanted it: Murtagh and Nasuada's happy (and improbable) ending, built up from that one awesome dream she had in Galbatorix's castle.
Review please! And you may want to read 'the sound of his voice, the touch of his hand' if you haven't already.
"Ah, there you are," said a voice behind her, and she turned to see Murtagh striding toward her from a grand estate. Like her, he held a goblet of wine. He was dressed in black hose and a doublet of maroon satin trimmed with gold piping. A gem-encrusted dagger hung from his studded belt. His long hair fluttered in the breeze, and he had a mischievous smile on his face. That, and the light upon his face, made him appear strikingly handsome – noble, even.
He joined her under the trellis and placed a hand on her bare arm, the gesture casual and intimate, and leaned forwards, his lips brushing her ear. "You minx, abandoning me to Lord Ferros and his interminable stories. It took me half an hour to escape."
"I knew you'd come and find me eventually," she murmured back, before pushing him away and turning around so her back faced him, "And behave yourself! What would the guests say?"
He'd seen the playful sparkle in her eyes though, and her blush, and he just smirked.
Her heart pounded like a galloping horse as he pressed himself up behind her, his hands sliding around her waist to rest at her belly, before he pulled her flush to his chest.
"I don't think they have much right to say anything at all," he murmured, his voice low, and making her nerves tingle, "Am I not allowed to touch my own wife?"
His thumbs slowly, deliberately traced circles around her hipbones, and Nasuada felt herself react viscerally to his caresses.
"Murtagh…" she moaned softly, "Can you not – wait – till tonight?"
"Afraid not," he said huskily, before nipping at her ear playfully, "Come inside…"
"But the children – inside – they'll see us – " Nasuada managed between gasps, as kissed his way down to the juncture between her shoulder and her neck.
"You know there's something I can do called magic," Murtagh said cheekily, and his teeth gazed her skin.
"This – this is magic," she gasped, clenching her fists as one of his hands slipped under her dress to trail up the inside of her thigh.
He smirked against her neck, before suddenly picking her up in his strong arms.
"Murtagh!" she squealed, "Put me down at once! That's an order!"
"I'm sorry, your majesty," he murmured, his onyx eyes smoldering as he looked at her with an expression that made her tremble in anticipation, "But I'm sure your subjects can excuse your absence for a half an hour or so… say you had royal duties to attend to…"
She shivered at the innuendo, and allowed him to carry her back into the estate, as he murmured something in the ancient language that rendered them invisible to all their guests.
As he carried her up the stairs, she thought she'd perhaps felt something before, a little jolt of déjà vu; and then she remembered – she'd dreamt this very scene eight years ago in Uru'baen when Galbatorix had been manipulating her senses! However, it had certainly not ended as nicely as this moment.
Was it a premonition? Nasuada marveled to herself, how could I have seen a part of this back then? And to think it came true!
Truly, it was a miracle, a miracle no less incredible than the day she's seen a glowing ruby in the sky six years ago to find that after their self-imposed exile, Murtagh and Thorn had finally – finally returned.
Most of her efforts in rebuilding Alagaesia had been in effect by then, and she'd been waiting, and it had been magical. Then, five years ago they had been married, and eventually, four children followed – four amazing, precious children, four heirs to her throne.
It had been a miracle, getting the Varden and her people to support her union with Murtagh, and even more of a miracle when she saw those precious new lives.
Her life now was one she could have never dared to imagine before, something she could have never dared to hope or dream about… and yet, back then, eight years ago when she was trapped in Galbatorix's clutches, she had dreamed of it, and it had come to her, a part of this dreamlike, perfect future.
Everything had fallen into place, and Nasuada couldn't help but wonder how.
She didn't have to though, because as Murtagh pushed her gently onto the silky mattress of their bed, lowering his hard body onto her own, all coherent thought was wiped from her mind, and all she could do was lose herself in him and their shared euphoria.
Author's Note: Paolini would NEVER write that. The Varden would never accept him. He wouldn't come back that quickly. She couldn't marry him as queen.
I KNOW. I KNOW.
But you know what? Inheritance depressed me. SO I DON'T CARE. This is my attempt to cheer myself up so I can pretend that this happens and they have the happily-ever-after they deserve. (And have the four kids Paolini mentioned – four – isn't that much? – ah well, they obviously have happening sex lives. I wouldn't blame Nas. If I had a Murtagh I wouldn't be able to keep my hands off him.)
I probably went overboard with the sexing. But well, four kids. Obviously those two are crazy for each other, even if it was Galbatorix's thing. My personal opinion is that in the middle of Galbatorix's madness Nasuada had an actual premonition thanks to the Eldunari, kind of like Eragon did, but then Galbatorix interfered and messed it up. Yeah. So that was all happening in the near future anyways.
Anyways. If Inheritance depressed you, then feel free to accept this as canon in your own mind if it makes you happier, cause as ridiculous as it sounds, this cheered me up.
I'm such a spaz :P