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Mating Flight	By : YokoBlack Category: A through F > Eragon Views: 17707 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: Disclaimer: I do not own and I don't make any money from the Inheritance Cycle or the characters in it and the world they live in. All I do own is the plot.

Chapter List
- 1-Mating Flight
- 1
Title: Mating Flight
Rating: M
Genre: Romance
Summary: Saphira is in heat and Thorn just happened to be nearby, but their flight will have a side effect on their riders.
Disclaimer: I do not own and I don’t make any money from the Inheritance Cycle or the characters in it and the world they live in. All I do own is the plot.

(‘dragon/mind-to-mind communication’)

‘thoughts.’

Mating Flight

Eragon urged Snowfire onward as he sought out Saphira. It had only been a week since the fight on the Burning Plains and he was anxious to keep his promise to Roran, but Saphira kept disappearing. Since the battle with Murtagh and his new dragon Thorn, and learning the secret that Murtagh was his brother, Saphira had gone into a sort of dragon depression. It was worse then when Glaedr rejected her when she demanded they mate together. She was constantly eating and snapped at anyone who was getting close, even Eragon and Arya.

He finally found her gorging on a fourth deer. Snowfire snorted at the smell of blood and backed away so Eragon tied him well away from the ravenous blue dragon.

“Saphira, you have got to stop,” said Eragon. Saphira just growled at him as she ate. “If you don’t then no one in Surda will be able to eat.”

(‘I cannot help it,’) said Sahpira. (‘And besides, I’m eating deer, not chattel.’)

“They’re afraid it’s going to be that next!”

(‘I cannot stop eating.’) Saphira lifted her head and licked her fangs when she saw Snowfire. (‘Can I eat him?’)

“All right, now I know you’ve gone too far. You finish that deer and return to camp and stay there! I’m going to contact Oromis to find out what’s wrong with you.”

(‘If you must,’) said Saphira and returned to the deer. She glanced over at Snowfire again. (‘Can I please eat him?’)

“No!”

~*~

(‘And that’s it, Master Oromis,’) said Eragon through his contact with Oromis in Ellesméra. Saphira had finally returned after eating her fifth buck and was now sleeping off her meal. He hoped Oromis would have the answer to Saphira’s problem and immediately contacted his old master upon Saphira’s return.

(‘If what you are telling me is true, then she has started earlier then expected.’)

(‘Started what, Master,’) asked Eragon curious. He had learned a lot from training under Oromis’ tutorage, but even Oromis said that there were things he needed to learn on his own.

(‘Her cycle, Eragon. Saphira is in heat. Her eating is her way of storing energy for her upcoming mating flight and females don’t like being around others during this time. She’ll tolerate her Rider but other then that she will be hostile to anyone else.’)

(‘You said she started early. What did you mean by that, Master?’)

(‘Since dragons live unnaturally long, they only go into heat once every hundred years or so. Fertilization is harder then it seems. In the days of the Riders, even if a female went into heat it didn’t mean that her eggs would be fertilized. And if Saphira is in heat and this being her first one, she may not become pregnant.’)

Eragon paused for a moment to think. Why would Saphira start her cycle a hundred years early? She had been brooding about repopulating the dragon race, and being the last female dragon in Alagaësia would have its problems.

(‘That could be the logical reason,’) said Oromis after Eragon told the elf his theory.

(‘What do I do, Master?’) asked Eragon.

(‘You are to do everything I say exactly as I say it.’) And Oromis told Eragon what to do.

“Are you sure this is what you have to do?” asked Orik as Eragon packed a small bag.

“I’m afraid so,” said Eragon. “Until Saphira is off her cycle and can help us she won’t even let me near her.”

“You will return as soon as you can,” asked Roran and Eragon nodded.

“I will return and find Katrina together like I promised,” said Eragon clapping a brotherly hand on his cousin’s shoulder. Roran nodded and Eragon turned to Arya.

“Atra guliä un ilian tauthr ono un atra ono waíse skölir fra rauthr,” she said and Eragon nodded.

“Un ono,” he said and bowed respectfully. Grabbing his travel bag he slung it on his shoulder and walked outside. Saphira was still curled up like a cat on the ground and refused to wake up, even when Eragon promised two Nagra on their next hunt in Farthen Dur. Finally after much urging and almost a pond full of water being dumped on her, Saphira uncurled herself and allowed Eragon to strap on the saddle and climb on, growling low in her throat the whole time.

“I’ll see you in a week,” he called before Saphira flew into the sky, almost knocking him out of the saddle.

~*~

(’To think he’s making us go on patrol,’) grumbled Thorn as they flew the Northwestern part of Alagaësia.

“We were the ones that let Eragon and Saphira get away,” said Murtagh, lying lazily along his friend’s neck. He tugged at the cloak that he wore to keep himself worm. It was made of cotton, silk wouldn’t shake the chill, with a clasp that had a small red gem.

(‘You were the one that let them get away. I was having a nice conversation with Brightscales.’)

That got Murtagh’s attention and he sat up in his saddle. “What were you talking about?”

(First she was angry over me working with the old codger, and then we started swapping dragon stories.’)

Murtagh had to chuckle after Thorn calling Galbatorix an “old codger.” Both dragon and rider were so much alike that both knew what the other was thinking at times before the other thought of it. Both despised Galbatorix for enslaving them and wished nothing more then the old king’s death, but the oaths they were forced to take in the Ancient Language prevented them from harming Galbatorix in any way.

Murtagh yawned, stretched and looked down at the Spine. Since Roran’s miraculous escape through the uncharted mountain range the old codger wanted constant sweeps of the place, no matter the cast of the soldiers. Murtagh knew it was Eragon’s homeland, but so far he didn’t see anything interesting about Palancar Valley.

“All right, Thorn, let’s head back.”

(‘Wait, I smell something,’) said Thorn, almost anxiously.

“Smell what?” asked Murtagh.

(‘Something interesting.’) And Thorn flew into the Spine before Murtagh could protest. They flew further into the Spine then they had before and Murtagh looked around to try and find what had caught his dragon’s attention.

“I don’t see anything,” he said over the wind whistling in his ear.

(‘I smell them,’) said Thorn. (‘They are alone and wish to stay that way.’)

“Them? Thorn, what are you talking about?”

(‘They know we are coming. She is very agitated right now.’)

And Thorn descended. They landed in a small clearing, almost too small for Thorn to land in. The clearing was surrounded by pine trees that had blackened trunks on one side and a small crater in the middle of the clearing. Curling up in the crater was Saphira hissing at the new arrivals and standing at a campfire was Eragon holding a sword toward Murtagh. Both looked very surprised and very angry at seeing them.

(‘I told you they knew we were coming,’) said Thorn with a slight amused tone.

(‘Clearly,’) answered Murtagh. “I won’t harm you.”

“Yeah, I heard that before,” said Eragon.

“Come on, Eragon,” said Murtagh sliding off of Thorn and walking toward his friend. ‘Former friend,’ he reminded himself, but he hoped the friendship hadn’t died. “Must we go through this every time I pay a visit? I won’t harm you.”

“You’re in league with Galbatorix! You killed Hrothgar!”

“I admit to that, but I won’t harm you! I swear!”

“I don’t believe you,” said Eragon shaking his head. Murtagh could tell he was near a mental breakdown and nothing Murtagh does would convince Eragon otherwise. Unless….

“I promise I won’t harm you as long as you stay here,” he said. Eragon looked up at him, his lip trembling from trying to control his emotions.

“Your word as a Rider?” asked Eragon and Murtagh nodded.

“Vel eïnradhin eit ai Shur’tugal,” said Murtagh. Murtagh watched as the power of his words settled on Eragon and the other man lowered his sword reluctantly. Even Saphira quit hissing, but continued to glare at the two.

Murtagh walked over to Thorn’s saddle, unbolting Zar’roc as he did and took off the finely made saddle, set it aside and placed Zar’roc on top. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Eragon place his sword with his saddle as well, but kept a plain dagger on his hip. Even with the power of the Ancient Language, Eragon didn’t trust Murtagh.

Murtagh walked over to the fire and sat down in front of it, warming his hands chilled from riding Thorn.

“How have you been, Eragon,” asked Murtagh without looking at him. Eragon’s eyes flashed at the familiar tone in Murtagh’s voice.

“What do you want from me,” he asked. “Why are you here?”

“The old codger, as Thorn likes to call him, ordered me to patrol the Spine,” answered Murtagh. “Ever since our cousin’s grand escape, he’s been more paranoid then usual. I guess that comes with old age.” Murtagh smirked up at Eragon at the joke, but the other Rider kept his mouth straight. “What’s wrong with Saphira? Thorn said she was agitated.”

“Like I’m going to tell you!”

(‘She is in heat,’) said Thorn, looking at Saphira like she was apiece of meat. Saphira hissed at him and flared her wings,

“She’s in heat?!” said Murtagh in surprise looking at his dragon.

“Who told you that?!” asked Eragon.

“Thorn did.”

Eragon’s eyes flashed again. “Keep your dragon away from mine!” he said. “We don’t need you! We’re just fine by ourselves.”

Murtagh looked between Eragon and Saphira, absorbing what he had just heard. He had learned a lot from Morzan and Galbatorix without the two figuring out and Murtagh knew about a dragon’s mating cycle. If what Thorn said is true, then Saphira was much too young to be in heat. And if she was, it would effect Eragon as well.

“Eragon, is it true?” asked Murtagh keeping his voice calm. “Is Saphira in heat?” Eragon continued to glare at Murtagh as he nodded. “But she’s too young! Way too young!”

“Don’t you think I know that?!” said Eragon. “That’s why we’re here. We had to get away, from our friends, Galbatorix, you. I had to keep Saphira safe.”

“Eragon, I promised you, I’m not going to harm you, or Saphira,” said Murtagh reassuringly. He could see the fear in Eragon’s eyes, fear that he was going to lose Saphira or himself. “I’ll stay with you till it’s over. I’ll take care of you.”

“I can care for myself!”

“Of that I have no doubt, but there’s a slight flaw. I promised I wouldn’t harm you as long as you stayed here. If you leave this clearing, I will have to fight you, if I so choose that is.”

“Oh,” said Eragon. “I guess I do have to stay here.”

Murtagh smiled. “Don’t worry, Eragon. It’ll be like old times.”

~*~

Evening fell quickly for the two Riders and Murtagh left to find food for the two of them to eat. He came back with an assortment of vegetables and two hares after only an hour. Thorn even left to hunt and returned with two deer, setting one down for Saphira and ate the other himself.

“I am actually amazed by what I found here,” he said. “From what the soldiers said about this place I expected spectres or the undead.”

Eragon shook his head as he watched Murtagh skin the hares. “No, I’ve been here multiple times. The Spine is unreliable at times but if you respect it, you’ll come out all right.” He gulped as Murtagh gutted the hare and turned away.

“So why are you here?” asked Murtagh and he cut the meat and the vegetables, setting them in the camp stew pot Eragon had brought. “You could have hidden anywhere in Alagaësia. Why this cursed place?”

“For exactly the reasons you just said,” said Eragon, refraining from watching Murtagh throw in the meat in the stew pot. “Galbatorix believes this place to be cursed. He would never think to find a dragon in heat here. And a friend suggested that I take Saphira someplace she would feel safe and this was the first place I could think of. “

“You thought she would feel safe in a clearing in the middle of the Spine?” asked Murtagh in curious surprise. Eragon smirked and pointed to where Saphira laid.

“That’s where I found Saphira’s egg,” he said. “In that crater. At first I had no idea what it was. I thought it was just a pretty stone that I could sell to the highest bidder, but no one would buy it, too superstitious of the Spine, and a few nights later, Saphira hatched. This was also where she took me when the Ra’zac attacked my uncle’s farm. I’m still paying for that debt.”

(‘We both are, little one,’) said Saphira from where she was. Eragon could hear the attempt at gentleness in her voice.

“I understand that now,” said Murtagh. “It was a good idea.”

The rest of the time passed in silence as their dinner cook. When it was done Murtagh filled both of their bowls and Murtagh started eating. Eragon moved the stew around, eating the vegetables and leaving the meat in the bowl, but he could still taste the meat that flavored into the vegetables. It took all he could not to throw up. He needed his strength if he was to care for Saphira.

“You’re not eating your meat,” said Murtagh and Eragon looked up at him in surprise.

“I, uh, I can’t meat anymore,” said Eragon setting the bowl down. Murtagh looked between him and the bowl before setting his down, picked up the stew pot on the pole he had been using to suspend it over the fire and set it in front of Thorn. “What are you doing?”

“Making you your evening meal,” said Murtagh as Thorn at the stew, even leaving some for Saphira which Murtagh gave her under the careful eye of said dragon. When the pot was empty he cleaned it in a nearby stream and began cooking the extra vegetables.

“I’m sorry.”

“Not your fault,” said Murtagh cutting into a carrot. “I should have known. You spent a year with the elves and you’re bound to pick up their habits.”

“You know about that,” said Eragon a slight blush on his cheeks. Murtagh chuckled.

“We might not know where there are still, but it doesn’t take a sorcerer to know where you were. Galbatorix’s spies didn’t place you among the Varden, and you were nowhere else in Surda. That only left the elves. That and you look a lot like them. Morzan never looked like an elf, no matter how much he thought he did. “

“I’m not telling you where they are.” Eragon sent a glare at the other Rider and Murtagh smiled as he sat back down and rested his arm on a propped leg.

“And I’m not asking am I.”

The vegetable soup didn’t take long to cook and both ate the somewhat filling meal. Murtagh suggested going into the farms left by the villagers of Carvahall to pick any vegetables or fruit growing wild and Eragon agreed. They finished the meal, washed the dishes and got the camp ready for the night.

“Do you want to spar?’ asked Murtagh and Eragon gave him a skeptic look.

“What if you hurt me?” asked Eragon. Murtagh chuckled.

“The promise I made prevents me from hurting you. I couldn’t even if I tried, and believe me; I have tried with the old coot.”

“All right, let’s spar.” Eragon took out his sword and dulled the edges as Murtagh did the same to Zar’roc. Eragon felt a tightening in his chest at the thought of fighting against what had been his sword, but Murtagh was right as the eldest son of Morzan, Murtagh should have inherited the sword.

As the sparred Eragon felt his chest get lighter and he completely forgetting that Murtagh was the enemy now. It really did feel like old times.

It was during one complicated maneuver that Murtagh’s sword struck Eragon’s side, and Murtagh cried out in pain. Eragon dropped his sword and ran to his friend’s side.

“Murtagh, are you okay?” asked Eragon in worry. Murtagh gave a smirk as he held his side.

“Guess I’ll have to teach you how to block that,” he said and cough. “Gods, that hurts.”

“I know, you hit me remember.” Murtagh groaned and Eragon sighed. “I’ll fix it. Waíse heill.”

Murtagh sighed as the pain in his side faded and he sat up with a groan. “All right. I think that’s enough sparing for today.”

“Agreed,” said Eragon helping Murtagh up. They doused the fire and curled up against their dragons for the night to keep warm, Eragon actually trust Murtagh enough to take first watch. The younger brother was so tired from his journey and the excitement of the day that he fell asleep quickly, Saphira’s breathing a soft purring in his ear.

As Eragon slept, Murtagh took the time to inspect his younger brother as he slept. Eragon really did look more like an elf then when Murtagh first met him. His ears were more tapered, his chin slightly pointed, and his features carried almost the same natural beauty that the elves possessed. Eragon was, in ever sense of the word, beautiful.

(‘What are you thinking, Rider?’) asked Thorn.

(‘He looks so different now,’) said Murtagh resting against his dragon. (‘He doesn’t even look like my brother anymore.’)

(‘You have never thought of him as your brother before. Why do you now?’)

Murtagh shrugged. (‘I guess it’s because I’m so used to thinking of him as a friend. I don’t think I’ll ever be able to think of him as a brother.’)

(‘As a brother or friend, Shadeslayer needs you right now. This will not be easy for him, or Brightscales.’)

(‘You’re right,’) said Murtagh, tossing stones in frustration. (‘I have to take care of him. Any way I can.’)

Thorn softly rumbled and agreement and both settled in to watch after their friends.

~*~

Over the course of four days the routine had been same. Murtagh would leave to hunt and pick food and Eragon would hold down the fort at the camp site. They’d spar every evening, Murtagh making sure to not connect with Eragon’s body so he wouldn’t hurt the younger man, and took turns keeping watch each night. They would joke and laugh like they had before Murtagh was captured and enjoy each other company, but there was still the fine line that hung between them that they were enemies now and it often left them with hours of uneasiness.

As the days pasted, Murtagh also noted that the pair’s condition had also worsened, for both dragon and rider. Eragon would snap for no reason and lash out like an animal and Saphira would be feral at times, not caring for friend or bond-mate. Murtagh knew that a female did not need to mate to survive, but the fierce instinct to mate was strong in every dragon, he even had to hold Thorn back at times, but it was strongest in females and for Saphira it was torture, especially with a male so close but cannot mate with.

“Eragon,” said Murtagh on the fifth night. The other boy looked up from where he sat cross-legged on the opposite side of the fire from Murtagh. “I’m afraid I have to leave soon.”

“Why?” asked Eragon. “Will Galbatorix try to find you if you don’t go back soon?”

“Well, there’s that, and I have to keep Thorn away from Saphira.” Murtagh turned to look at his red dragon. Thorn lay at the opposite end of the clearing, as far away from Saphira as he could get without leaving the clearing and watched the blue dragon’s every move. “Soon I won’t be able to hold back his instinct to mate and I fear you won’t be able to either with Saphira.”

“I suppose you are right,” said Eragon. “When will you leave?”

“I will leave in the morning. We will spend this last night as friends.”

“Murtagh, we will always be friends, no matter what happens.” Murtagh smiled at his younger brother and Eragon face went slightly red. “I’ll, uh, I’ll take the first watch.”

“Are you sure,” asked Murtagh worried. “Your face looks a bit pale.”

Murtagh reached over to feel Eragon’s pale face and the younger man blushed. He didn’t know why but the way Murtagh touched his face and looked at him made Eragon blush and edgy, unable to think straight and bright a fluttery feeling in his stomach. He managed to control himself and smiled at his brother.

Eragon waved him off. “I’m fine,” he said smiling to reassure the older man. Murtagh gave him a skeptical look but finally nodded.

“If you say so,” he said and settled next to Thorn to sleep. The red dragon curled up around his rider, making sure his razor sharp scales wouldn’t harm Murtagh in any way. In less then a few minutes Murtagh fell into a deep sleep.

Eragon sat across from Murtagh next to the doused fire. He didn’t need the flames to see by. His newly acquired elf senses allowed him to see in the dark as well as a cat would. He could see the chipmunk fifty passes away looking for food around the camps edge and Eragon threw the chipmunk a scrap of bread for it to eat. He could hear the gentle sound of the owl flying overhead and he watched it fly out of sight. He could hear, see and smell everything without even trying.

He could even see Murtagh sleeping peacefully against his dragon. The dark haired Rider had become handsomer since his capture, in a rough sort of way. But there was also a sort of sadness he carried with him, and guilt. Eragon was half afraid to enter the man’s sleeping mind and find out all of Galbarotix’s secrets, but Eragon knew it was impossible. Murtagh had shields far stronger then Eragon’s and a stubborn will.

(‘Eragon, I don’t feel so good,’) said Saphira.

“Saphira, what’s wrong?” Eragon rushed to his dragon’s side and gently touched her neck. “Saphira, your scales are so pale.”

(‘I feel….burning….hot…So hot….Eragon!’)

It was then Eragon felt a sudden pain flare through his connection with Saphira. He tried to block it but it hurt more to do so. It felt like his entire body was on fire and he couldn’t block the pain. It started from his heart and seemed to flow through his body. Clutching his chest he doubled over and threw up the vegetable stew Murtagh cook for him, shivering from the pain burning through him.

“Saphira!” Was all he managed to say before he collapsed.

~*~

(‘Rider, awaken now! The Shadeslayer needs you!’)

Murtagh was abruptly awoken when Thorn shoved his snout into his Rider’s side. He looked up sleepily at his dragon’s anxious triangular head. “Thorn, what’s wrong?”

(‘Brightscales and her Rider need you. It is time.’)

Murtagh shot up as if struck by lightening, threw off the covers keeping him warm in the cool mountain atmosphere and look over at the second Rider. Eragon lay on the ground shiver, thrashing and screaming in pain. Murtagh had seen people burned alive and that was how Eragon looked to him at that moment.

“Eragon!” yelled Murtagh running toward his brother. He barely touched Eragon when he jerked his hand away. “Eragon, you’re colder then ice!”

“No, my chest is burning!” cried Eragon clutching said body part.

Murtagh grabbed blankets even as he heard the roar of both dragons. Looking up he saw Saphira hissing at Thorn, her wings flared and her tail lashing. She wasn’t hissing in defiance anymore, but in anticipation. As Murtagh watched Saphira roared a challenge at Thorn and launched herself in the air, Thorn a few seconds behind her.

“Eragon? Eragon, Saphira’s taken flight. You have to choose me.”

“Choose?” said Eragon in a hazy. Murtagh hoped he wasn’t too drawn into the dragon lust to understand what’s happening.

“Yes, choose. You have no choice. You’ll be too caught in the mating flight to object.” Eragon groaned and Murtagh gulped. He didn’t like what he was forced to do, but he had also no choice. “Eragon, we have to couple.”

Unfortunately, Eragon was still coherent enough to hear what Murtagh said. He shook his head and started bushing away. “No! I can’t! You’re a man! You’re my brother! I cannot!”

“Soon you’ll have no choice, Eragon. It’s either me or let the lust consume your soul. You have to let me help you!”

“I just want to burning to go away,” said Eragon almost in a sob. Murtagh had to hold back his own as he gently kissed Eragon’s forehead.

“Don’t worry, Eragon,” he said pulling his brother close. “I’ll make it go away.” Murtagh pulled Eragon closer and kissed his forehead again, then temple and both eyelids and cheek. “Do you trust me?”

Eragon nodded before Murtagh devoured his mouth. Eragon moaned and clutched Murtagh so tight his knuckles were white.

It took all that Murtagh had not to take Eragon right then, so crazed as he was with dragon lust that he wanted to tear Eragon’s clothes and have his way with him, but Murtagh wanted to go slow for as long as he could. This was his first mating flight a well as Eragon’s and he’d be damned if he didn’t admit he was scared. And he was scared. Scared that he would accidentally hurt Eragon, because then it would harm Murtagh twice as much as it would Eragon.

Slowly so he wouldn’t frighten Eragon more he moved the younger man to his bed roll and gently sat him down, keeping close comforting contact. When both were seated comfortable on the blankets Murtagh continued the kissing, keeping it slow and with out tongue. After a few seconds of chaste kissing Eragon moan and opened his mouth for more, which Murtagh granted. The kissing became heated after that, leaving both breathless and battling for dominance. Finally Murtagh won and laid Eragon down, kissing every inch of skin he could as Eragon clawed on his back.

“More,” mewled Eragon. “Please, Murtagh, more.”

“Are you sure,” asked Murtagh cautiously.

“It’s so hot. Please make it go away.”

“I will, Eragon. I will.”

Reaching down Murtagh undid Eragon’s belt and tugged the travel shirt out of the other Rider’s pants, pulled it off and discarded it before doing the same to his own. Almost as soon as Murtagh took off his own Eragon threw Murtagh off so he landed on his back and straddled the other man, leaned down and kissed Murtagh savagely. Murtagh returned the kiss and both quickly discarded boots trousers and undergarments.

Murtagh looked down at the aroused man under him, only half seeing him through the waves of lust coming from Thorn. Eragon was in desperate need of intimacy and showed it in an almost animal fashion. Eragon clawed, bite and fought for dominance, and Murtagh did the same. Both knew it was the dragons that drove them to it, but both were trying to be as gentle about it as possible.

Murtagh drew Eragon onto his lap and kissed down Eragon’s jaw and neck, nibbling on Eragon’s jugular vein, which rewarded him with a moan from the recipient, and continued down till he reached Eragon’s neck and began to suckle one of the lighter haired brunet’s nipples. Eragon gasped and gripped Murtagh’s shoulders like a vice, keeping the older man in place and grounded his hips against Murtagh’s. Murtagh groaned around Eragon’s nipple and Eragon gasped when Murtagh’s hip bucked in response. He could feel how hard Murtagh was and knew he was just as hard. His manhood ached to be touched and made to release the essence inside of him.

Murtagh, as if sensing his partner was in the same predicament, reached down and began fisting Eragon’s erection. Eragon cried out in pleasure as Murtagh continued his ministrations till the younger came in Murtagh’s hand. Eragon looked at Murtagh in a hazy confused look as the other coated his own erection with Eragon’s essence and laid the younger Rider back down on the pallet.

“It’ll hurt,” said Murtagh. “Both you and me. I’ll be as gentle as I can.”

“I trust you,” said Eragon. Murtagh began kissing Eragon’s face, his forehead, cheeks, temples, eyelids, anywhere Murtagh could reach before covering Eragon’s mouth again and both kissed each other desperately. Murtagh reached out and grasped Eragon’s unoccupied hand and began pushing into him. Both groaned as the penetration hurt them both and gripped each other in a white knuckled fist.

Eragon’s eyes watered from the pain, it felt like he was being split in half, but he refused to cry out because he knew Murtagh would stop and give up, and Eragon didn’t want him to. He wanted Murtagh to be his first. He didn’t care if Murtagh was his brother or a man. The past several days showed Eragon that Murtagh, through a slave to Galbatorix, was still the same as when Eragon first met him. He wanted that Murtagh to complete the mating flight with him, not the slave of Galbatorix, but his friend, sparring partner, brother in arms and now lover.

Murtagh gasped as he filled himself in side of Eragon. He knew Eragon would be tight, but not this tight. It was like squeezing into a small tunnel, and he loved it! He couldn’t believe how much Eragon trusted him now, even after his betrayal and killing Hrothgar, Eragon trusted him. It hurt him too much to leave Eragon behind and return to Galbatorix’s side. Murtagh knew he would continue to fight if he had too, but Eragon was an emotional boy and would hesitate in a fight. This experience would effect him when the separated.

Murtagh began to thrust into Eragon and Eragon met him. This only lasted for a few moments before Murtagh came with a grunt and Eragon cried out as he released himself again. Both lay on the bedroll in exhaustion, Murtagh covering Eragon and Eragon clutching Murtagh, bloody stripes cover the older man’s back. Both groaned when Murtagh moved out and laid next to Eragon.

“Are you hurt,” said Murtagh, through he didn’t need the answer. Pain laced through his backside as much as Eragon’s.

“I would say no, but then I’d be lying,” said Eragon trying to catch his breath. Murtagh moved out of him and began to heal the scratches and bruises Eragon acquired during their mating. “Murtagh, why did you do it? You could have left me to suffer the pain. I would have lived in the end. Why did you have sex with me?”

“We may be on opposing sides, Eragon, but you’re still my friend, and my brother,” said Murtagh moving a lock of hair clinging to Eragon’s sweaty brow away. “If I can, I will protect you.”

“Thanks, Murtagh,” said Eragon before falling asleep in his brother’s arms. Murtagh covered them both with a blanket and after kissing Eragon goodnight on the forehead slept next to his younger brother.

~*~

Murtagh woke the next morning feeling as tense has he had the day after his first swordsmanship lesson. He tried to move but his whole body went into spasms and he gasped. He heard someone sigh next to him and looked over to see Eragon sleeping peacefully next to him; the blanket pulled up to his waist and revealed his flawless chest. He had no visible marks from the night before, unlike Murtagh who still had the claw marks down his back.

Hearing a snort he looked over to see Thorn and Saphira curled together around their Riders to keep them warm, Thorn watching his Rider with one eye.

“How long have I been asleep?” asked Murtagh looking up at the darkening sky.

(‘All day,’) said Thorn. (Brightscales and I thought it better if you rested.’)

“Thank you for the consideration,” said Murtagh, grabbing his trousers and walking over to the nearby stream. He looked back when he heard Eragon move and saw the other Rider curl up in the spot Murtagh left. Murtagh gave his brother a fond smirk before leaving the clearing and washed his face in the ice cold mountain water.

(‘What shall you do now, Rider?’) asked Thorn.

(‘I don’t know,’) said Murtagh looking at himself in the rushing water. He felt ashamed of himself. He knew it was for a good reason, but he didn’t have to take Eragon like that, not for his first time. It should be slow and special; with the person you loved the most, not your brother during a mating flight.

(‘He will understand,’) said Thorn feeling his Rider’s emotions that Murtagh tried so hard to keep hidden. (‘He was awake as well when he agreed to be your bed partner. You are not to blame.’)

(‘It feels like it is. Eragon won’t be able to fight me after this, and he will have to at some point. He can’t freeze up just because he’s fighting a past lover.’)

(‘We should use that spell.’) Murtagh looked at Thorn in surprise and the red dragon snorted. (‘It will work.’)

(‘It’s dangerous!’)

(‘But it will work. Brightscales agrees.’)

(‘You talked it over with Saphira!’)

(‘We had to keep ourselves busy while you two slept. It wasn’t just flying around the mountain.’)

Murtagh playfully growled and tossed a stone at Thorn, who pretended to shield himself and the stone bounced off a wing. Murtagh laughed and Thorn made the grunting noise that sounded like one.

“Murtagh?”

Murtagh looked over to see Eragon wide awake and looking around for him. Murtagh walked into view and toward the younger Rider.

“Here I am,” he said and Eragon looked up at him.

“I thought you left me,” said Eragon reaching up for Murtagh and Murtagh held Eragon in his arms.

“Thorn is here. I wouldn’t leave him, or you.”

“I thought I heard you laugh,” said Eragon looking up at Murtagh and the other smirked a little.

“Maybe I did and maybe I didn’t,” said Murtagh with a chuckle.

“Murtagh!” Eragon started punching the other anywhere he could as Murtagh attempted to protect himself.

“All right, all right. I did laugh, but only because Thorn said something funny.”

“What did he say?” asked Eragon in interest.

“You don’t want to know,” said Murtagh in a warning tone.

“Was I that bad,” asked Eragon shamefully. Murtagh chuckled and ruffled his brother’s hair.

“It has nothing to do with you,” he said before getting up with a sigh and searched for his shirt. Eragon watched him for a few moments before speaking.

“You’re leaving now, aren’t you,” he asked picking up his trousers and put them on along with his boots.

“I have to,” said Murtagh. “I’ve been away too long. The old coot with be wondering where I am.”

“Come back with me,” said Eragon desperately. “I’ll explain it to the Varden. They’ll listen to me. Nasuada trusts me.”

“Eragon, I can’t,” said Murtagh torn between going back with his brother and returning to Galbatorix. “I swore an oath in the Ancient Language. Until Galbatorix is dead I can’t leave him.”

“Then I will kill him!” said Eragon in the Ancient Language. Murtagh looked at his brother with wide surprised eyes.

“Eragon, don’t…..”

“I swear I will kill Galbatorix and free you!” yelled Eragon still in the Ancient Language.

“You idiot!” Murtagh went over, grabbed Eragon by the shoulders and shook him. “Take it back!”

“No!”

“TAKE IT BACK!”

“NO!” Eragon yelled with as much force as Murtagh and glared at him. “I will free you, Murtagh. I will free you and everything will really be like it was before, only peaceful with no running.”

“Why, Eragon,” asked Murtagh. “Galbatorix is far stronger then both of us combined. He will kill you! Why would you want to free me? And swear it in the Ancient Language? What am I to you? An old friend? A fellow warrior? A lover?”

“And my brother,” said Eragon softly. “What more reason do I need?”

Murtagh had to fight himself to keep his eyes from watering. Eragon walked up to him and wrapped him in a hug, which Murtagh gratefully returned. He hadn’t hugged anyone since the death of their mother Selene.

“What are we going to do now?” asked Eragon stepping away from him. Murtagh looked at him sadly. “What do we say to people who ask what happened?”

“You let me worry about that,” he said before placing his hand on Eragon’s head. “I’m sorry. Draumr.”

Eragon softly groaned and fell into Murtagh’s arms fast asleep. Murtagh gently lifted Eragon off the ground and set the other Rider on his own bedroll. He looked up at Saphira as the blue stood close by.

“Are you sure about this, Saphira? This spell is highly dangerous. I can’t even be sure he’ll make it out with his mind intact.”

(‘I trust you,’) she said directly to him, making Murtagh jump in surprise. Saphira never directly spoke to anyone except Eragon, not even Arya. It also made a tight feeling come to his chest. Eragon had said those words the day before. Where had he earned such trust from his enemies?

“Promise you won’t tell him. If he finds out he’ll be crushed.”

(‘I promise,’) said Saphira in the Ancient Language. Thorn promised as well.

Sighing he leaned down and touched his forehead with Eragon’s whispering the spell that would erase Eragon’s memories and replace them with ones created from Murtagh.

~*~

Eragon woke the next morning more tired then he ever remembered him being. He didn’t even remember going to sleep. The week seemed like a blur to him. As if it happened too fast to remember. He didn’t even really remember what he did yesterday, just pain through his whole body. He looked over to see Saphira already awake and watching him observantly.

“Saphira, what’s wrong?” he asked sitting up and stretched. His back twinge a bit but he felt otherwise fine. “Did something happen?”

(‘Nothing for you to be worried about, little one,’) said Saphira. Eragon looked at her curiously. He had a feeling that Saphira was keeping something from him, but couldn’t figure out what it could be.

“You must be feeling better,” he said. “You don’t look so angry anymore.”

(‘I am better, thank you for asking.’)

This time, Eragon looked at Saphira observantly. “Is there something you want to tell me? Did something happen while you were in heat?”

(‘You were with me the whole time,’) said Saphira. (‘Don’t you remember?’)

“I…. I remember…..”

His head exploded in pain as an image flashed through is mind. A body laid gently on him and kissed him repeatedly. A head of soft hair clutched between his fingers and a tone chest against his. He could hear pants and moans as if he was there. The image faded as quickly as it came.

(‘What do you remember, Eragon?’) asked Saphira shaking Eragon away from the memory.

“Nothing,” he said. “It’s just my mind playing tricks on me.” He looked up and smiled at Saphira. “So we won’t have to worry about this for another hundred years huh?”

(‘As humans would say, it’s not a problem. Let us return to the Varden.’)

“Let’s,” said Eragon quickly gathering his things and threw Saphira’s saddle on her. He couldn’t shake the feeling that he had forgotten something, or someone.

He was about to climb on when something caught his eye. It was a red gem, small and perfectly cut. Bending down he picked it up and looked at it in the palm of his hand. He couldn’t shake the feeling that he had seen it before.

“Saphira, have you seen this before?” he asked holding the gem up to Saphira. The blue dragon sniffed the gem and shook her head.

(‘Can’t say that I have,’) she said.

“I have, and yet I haven’t. Isn’t that strange?”

(‘You said the Spine seemed to have a mind of its own. Maybe the mountains left it here.’)

“Maybe,” said Eragon, still not able to shake the feeling. He put the gem deep in his bag so it wouldn’t fall out and climbed onto Saphira. “Let get back to our friends.”

With a roar Sahphira jumped into the air and with three strong wing beats she gained altitude and flew straight back to Surda.

~*~

Murtagh kept his face as expressionless as he could as Thorn landed In Ura’baen’s courtyard and a servant immediately greeted him. Murtagh didn’t look at him as he took off Thorn’s gear.

“Lord Murtagh, you have been gone a long time,” said the servant nervously. It was no surprise to Murtagh. The last time someone looked at him wrong they got a smack across the back with magic. It was hard enough to leave a bruise for a good long while and a scar fore remembrance. But then Murtagh was only a few months into his forced enslavement then. He had been very irritated and servants have a long memory.

“He wanted me to patrol, I patrolled,” said Murtagh taking off his cloak and throwing it to the servant. “I lost the stone to my clasp. Replace it with a sapphire.”

“A sapphire, sire?”

Murtagh glared at him. “Do you have a hearing problem?”

“No!” said the servant quickly. “A sapphire it shall be, my lord. His Majesty wishes to see you in the audience room.”

“Of course he does.”

And without another word Murtagh walked into the castle. It was dank, cold and hardly had any light, making the entire place be cast in shadows. The only place in the entire castle had had any light was the audience room. Galbatorix ate, slept and conducted business in there and was paranoid that Varden assassins were about to kill him so only a select few could approach him. Murtagh was one of them.

Murtagh entered the room and knelt to the ground when he reached the foot of the dais, bowing his head. Galbatorix sat on his throne and glared down at Murtagh.

“Why have you returned so late, Murtagh son of Morzan Rider of red dragon Thorn,” demanded Galbatorix.

“Forgive me, Master, but I wanted my report to be thorough,” said Murtagh in the Ancient Language, as he was supposed to do when reporting to him. It wasn’t a lie, but it wasn’t the whole truth either. When Galbatorix sent Murtagh out the younger Rider wanted nothing more then to get the patrol over and done with, but also knew that Galbatorix wanted a detailed report.

“Have you anything new to report?”

“Nothing of consequence, my lord. Only a small conflict with your soldiers in a small village but it has been dealt with.”

“And the insurgents in Surda?”

“Staying behind its borders like frightened children,” said Murtagh, elaborating the way the Varden looked when Murtagh spotted them from the air as he patrolled Surda’s borders. He hoped it would alleviate Galbatorix’s anger in Murtagh arriving late. It seemed to have worked.

“Very good. You may leave.”

Murtagh bowed his head once again before getting up to leave.

“A moment, Murtagh.” Murtagh stopped and turned to look at Galbatorix. “I hear you lost the gem of the cloak I had given you. What happened to it?”

“I lost it, Master, while on patrol,” said Murtagh, hoping Galbatorix would pry any further.

“That’s unfortunate. I rather liked that gem. Ruby really does suit you, the color of blood. You may go now, Murtagh. I want you to continue training in your magic. I will have an assignment for you when I deem you ready.”

Murtagh bowed again and left the room. Quickly walking to his chambers he sighed when he reached them, reached into his pocket and pulled out a stone. Before he left he had snuck into Eragon’s bag and took out the small round river rock that he had often seen Eragon practice magic with while they were traveling. It was a reason to keep fighting and return to Eragon. To return the stone to his brother.

“Soon, Eragon,” he said clutching the stone in his fist. “Soon, you will free me from my imprisonment. Of this I am sure.”

END

-Atra guliä un ilian tauthr ono un atra ono waíse skölir fra rauthr : May luck and happiness follow you and may you be shielded from misfortune.

-Un ono: And you.

-Vel eïnradhin eit ai Shur’tugal: Upon my word as a Rider.

-Waíse heill: Be healed

-Draumr: dream (since I don’t know the Ancient Language word for “sleep”)
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Mating Flight