Hellooo everybody! This is my very first Inheritance fanfic so please forgive any and all errors. It would be great if you could point them out though!
I'm not sure what to say, other than this takes place sometime after book 2 but before book 3, so here's the first chapter.
Chapter 1: Murtagh
Murtagh stood emotionlessly in the long, narrow throne room of Uru'baen. It was dimly lit, so that the man lounging on the high backed chair appeared to be robed in shadows.
If Murtagh had not grown accustomed to having an audience with the King, he would have stared in shock. The man was neither overly tall, or overly large, but he radiated a kind of cold, insane, power. To top it off, behind him lay his massive dragon, Shruikan, who was nothing but a dark shadow against the far wall.
"Come, come, Murtagh. I need to have a word with you." Galbatorix's voice was calm; it pulled Murtagh forward, but he was not fooled. The King was furious, and though he didn't show it, Murtagh was terrified, not only for himself but for his dragon Thorn as well.
When the young man was only a few feet from the foot of the massive throne, he knelt, eyes focused on the ashen floor.
"Murtagh, my most loyal servant," Murtagh couldn't help but shudder. Some people would have been fooled by the man's false flattery, but Murtagh knew the King was livid with rage, and rightly so. "Would you care to tell me why Eragon Shadeslayer and Saphira Brightscales did not accompany you back to my castle?" Galbatorix's voice was deathly quiet.
"My lord, I swore that Thorn and I would try to capture them, and that we did. However," Murtagh broke off.
"However?" The King hissed.
"However, they were stronger than us, they, Eragon had elves and other magic users helping him." The young rider trailed off nervously.
"Ah," Galbatorix said. "And a bunch of amateur magicians managed to defeat your multiple Eldunari, did they?"
Murtagh didn't respond, instead choosing to keep his gaze fixed on the floor.
"Look at me when I speak, you ungrateful child!" The boy hurriedly lifted his gaze to meet the King's black eyes.
"You disgust me. Guards!" The King barked. "Take him away."
Murtagh tensed, but his face stayed blank as two men dragged him forcefully from the throne room.
He was taken to a large cell in the dungeon of the Kings Castle. Murtagh's wrists were bound to chains high above his head on the wall. He did not move as the two men left and were replaced by a lanky magician.
"Open your mind." Man said flatly. Murtagh stared sullenly ahead. "Now." The man called more forcefully.
Murtagh felt tendrils of the man's thoughts pushing against the boundary that shielded his mind.
The man barked a single word in the Ancient Language, and Murtagh stifled a cry of pain. The man spoke again, louder, harder this time. Murtagh let out a yell. On the third time, his shields wavered for just a moment, and the King's magician surged into his mind.
Flashes of light and sound flooded Murtagh's mind.
Eragon pleading with him from atop his dragon.
A bolt of energy that he didn't know why he had cast, striking down the Dwarf King.
Thorns roar of pain as Saphira struck him with her claws.
Eragon again pleading, now on the ground in front of him.
The younger Rider defeated at his feet.
Loop holes in his oath.
The magician withdrew, satisfied. Murtagh collapsed to the floor, dangling by his arms. His vision began to go dark. He heard the man slam the cell door behind him. Then, he sank into oblivion.
Murtagh awoke to Thorn roaring in pain. The terrible sound echoed around in the Rider's mind. 'Thorn,' His thoughts were jumbled, but as he awoke, Murtagh be gan to panic.
'Thorn!' He screamed in his head, 'Thorn, answer me, please. What is happening,' It was not Thorn's voice who replied.
'Do not worry, Rider,' Galbatorix seemed to be laughing. 'I will not harm your precious Thorn too much. I still have a use for the two of you.'
Thorn's screams grew louder inside Murtagh's mind until he could bare it no longer. "Stop!" He howled to no one. "Please stop!" Then he began to scream in pain as well; his dragon's torture washing over the Rider.
Time had no meaning among the pain, but a long time must have passed before dragon and Rider finally slipped into the void.
When he woke for the second time, Murtagh could not tell how much time had passed. Truthfully, he didn't care. Something hot and wet ran down his arms, his back, his stomach. Blood. Murtagh had not even noticed the pain of his wrists, which had been torn open mercilessly by the rusted metal cuffs.
He did not react when the door was thrust open, revealing the same two guards as before. Murtagh groaned as he was roughly removed from his chains and dragged up the long flight of stairs. He was deposited unceremoniously at the Kings feet.
"Stand up," The mad man's voice was full of contempt as Murtagh struggled to his feet unsteadily. "I want you and your dragon ready for a mission in three hours, understood?"
Murtagh nodded even though he all he wanted to do was curl up and die.
"Good," The King said simply. "You are dismissed."
Murtagh shook such thoughts from his mind, turned and walked, head high, out Galbatorix's presence. He would not give the King the satisfaction of seeing how broken his puppet was.
'Thorn?' Murtagh called anxiously as he trudged to his quarters, 'Are you alright?'
'I'll live,' Came the dragons sardonic reply.
Murtagh let out a small sigh of relief, before relaying Galbatorix's message. He allowed himself a faint smile at Thorn's grumbling, then bid him farewell.
Once in his room, Murtagh changed out of his blood stained shirt and torn pants. He instead donned his formal riding gear, which was light and easy for traveling, but which Galbatorix said made him look like a rider and not some mere peasant.
After Murtagh washed up, he collapsed onto his bed, falling asleep within seconds.
'Murtagh,' A voice called. 'Murtagh, get up. It is almost time to meet the King."
Murtagh sat up with a start at Thorn's voice. Cursing himself, he threw open the door to his room and stormed through the castle. Servants darted away from him warily, but Murtagh didn't notice.
"You are very nearly late, boy." Murtagh made to kneel, but Galbatorix halted him.
"Remain standing. I do not wish to waste time with such pleasantries. I have a job for you and that retched dragon of yours."
Anger flashed through Murtagh's eyes but was gone as quickly as it had come.
"You are to go to Helgrind. Their is a prisoner there who may hold very valuable information about the Varden, and Roran Stronghammer in particular. You are to extract it in any way necessary, understood?"
Murtagh bowed and was turning to leave when Galbatorix halted him. "Wait, Murtagh. I think it would be best if I modified your oaths to me. We can't have either of you accidentally stumbling on any more loop holes, now can we?"
Murtagh shook his head as the King said a string of words in the Ancient Language. "Now swear to me, son of Morzan." When he hesitated, Galbatorix hissed out a name, Murtagh's true name, and the boy flinched in pain. He felt the burning pull to do as he was commanded. Unconsciously his mouth opened and Murtagh swore loyalty to his master.
Dragon and Rider flew through the night, well aware that Galbatorix expected them back as soon as possible, if not earlier.
'There,' Murtagh called just as the first rays of dawn peaked over the horizon. He could see Helgrind down below, an ugly black streak in its surroundings. Thorn began to spiral down towards the high entrance. He closed his eyes and breathed in the fresh morning air, sighing as his dragon landed in the dank depths of Helgrind.
"Massster Murtagh," Hissed several voices as He dismounted Thorn. Murtagh shuddered, it was the Ra'saac. He despised them, but did not allow it to show on his face.
"Lead me to the prisoner." The Rider's voice was cold.
"Of courssse, sssire. Thisss way." The demons lead the way into the fowl smelling dungeon's of Helgrind.
'I'll won't be long.' Murtagh reassured his dragon. He could feel Thorn's apprehension at having to be left behind.
The three ra'saac and lone rider trudged down the low tunnel. Murtagh had to rely on the foot steps of his guides as no light penetrated the prison. When the creatures came to a halt, he almost ran into them.
"Thisss isss the one." Hissed the lead ra'saac.
"Good. Leave us."
The ra'saac scuttled away.
Muttering a word in the Ancient Language, Murtagh unlocked the door. "Garjzla." He commanded, and a ball of white light floated up to the ceiling. Murtagh narrowed his eyes when he saw the prisoner.
So. Now that that's over and done with, how was it? I would be very grateful for your reviews and if you have any suggestion or requests please send those too.