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The Last Scion
By : RotSeele
Category: A through F > Eragon
Views: 5098 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Eragon. I do not make any money from this story.
Chapter List
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The Power of a Name
Murtagh was able to hide Thorn when the slaves came to feed him and give him water. The little dragon ate most of what was offered and nudged the rest to Murtagh when he was full. Thorn was the size of a small cat, but he was slowly getting bigger. If Murtagh was able to hide Thorn a little bit longer, they could break out together. They played together for as long as Murtagh could keep up his energy and napped together against the far wall of the hatchery. Thorn chewed at Murtagh’s chain and nuzzled at the green egg as if telling it to hurry and wake up. Murtagh also taught Thorn was little he knew and mostly told him stories about his elder sister Saphira.
Thorn would pretend to be Saphira sometimes as they played, pretending he was big and strong and breathing fire. Murtagh laughed each time an attempt to fly was met with a tumble and Thorn popped up from his heap of wings and legs spewing black smoke in an irritated plume.
But this peace was not to last.
Not three days after Thorn had hatched did the King visit Murtagh. He entered unannounced and stared for a long time at the boy and dragon before his lips curled into a false smile. Murtagh tensed and quickly wrapped his arms around Thorn to keep the dragon from attacking Galbatorix.
“Isn’t this interesting,” Galbatorix said as he closed the door behind him and approached the pair. “Your father, your brother, and now you.”
“Stay away from me!” Murtagh snarled. “And stay away from him!”
Galbatorix chuckled. “Do you honestly think you have a choice, boy? No, I need you. You’ll listen to me, one way or another.” The King took a step closer.
Murtagh was on his feet and moving as far as the chain allowed him. Thorn huddled in his arms and stared at Galbatorix with fearful crimson eyes, his heart racing as much as Murtagh’s. The young Rider knew no matter how far he went, the chain would always stop him. He hit the far wall and had nowhere to go as Galbatorix invaded Murtagh’s personal space, grabbing for Thorn. The young dragon shrieked and bit at the King’s hands until the madman looked at Murtagh and crooned, “You wouldn’t want your precious Rider hurt, would you?”
Thorn growled. -Leave Murtagh alone!-
Murtagh glared at Galbatorix then kicked out with his left leg. The blow didn’t have the intended effect, but the King’s eyes did widen somewhat in surprise, and the young Rider moved out of reach again.
-Thorn, run for the door. Get out and find Saphira. She’ll protect you.-
-I’m not leaving without you!-
Murtagh started to reply when a spell crashed into his back, sending him to the floor, screaming in pain. Thorn fluttered beside Murtagh, crimson eyes focused on Galbatorix as if the hatchling could do something about their predicament. Galbatorix stood over Murtagh with a manic grin, then reached to pick up Thorn by his tail. The little dragon shrieked in fear and pain and Murtagh reacted on instinct. He turned to face Galbatorix and raised his left hand.
“/Drowning water/!” Murtagh yelled in words he didn’t know. Galbatorix looked surprised as the red-coloured spell hit him in the chest and then amused when it simply faded away.
His eyes focused on Murtagh. “Did you honestly think I would be vulnerable against a Rider, even one as experienced as you?”
“Put Thorn down.” Murtagh ordered, evenly spacing out his words.
“No. I need the little one. Thorn, hm? What an appropriate name.” Galbatorix slashed a wicked, amused stare at Murtagh. “If you behave, I might even give him back to you.”
Murtagh lunged for Galbatorix but the chain jerked and he fell hard on his stomach. Galbatorix walked away, Thorn in his hand, ignoring the dragon’s cries.
-Thorn!- Murtagh yelled. -Be brave!-
-Murtagh! Murtagh!-
-Be brave, Thorn! We’ll be together again, I promise!-
But they were separated for a good few weeks. Murtagh knew Thorn was still alive, he could feel him, but he couldn’t speak to him. His only guess was that Galbatorix had spelled the hatchery to somehow prevent their communication. That spell couldn’t stop the pain, though, and for several hours of a day Murtagh’s head would pound as if his brain wanted out of its prison and his stomach would twist and he would be sick. Murtagh cried unashamedly afterward, wanting and needing to be with Thorn. It wasn’t fair, he thought. He grew up in the clutches of two madmen, injured by both, and knew only a life of hardship and pain. His brother knew a life of love and, compared to Murtagh’s, luxury. It was as if Morzan’s sins followed Murtagh everywhere he went while their saint of a mother followed his brother. He tried reaching Thorn, mostly sending base emotions, and once in a while got something in return.
Then the King’s guards came to fetch him.
The chains were removed but he was told if one guard felt so much as an inkling his life was in danger, Thorn would be killed.
Murtagh took the threat to heart and followed the guards to the throne room, which was absent of the normal courtiers. Just guards and Galbatorix and now Murtagh. The guards shoved him to his knees before the King, but Murtagh refused to lower his gaze, instead glaring defiantly at Galbatorix. The King chuckled and it was probably only his amusement that kept Murtagh from being physically harmed.
“Come now, Murtagh.” Galbatorix said as if he were speaking to an old friend. “Come sit here and talk with me.”
“Where’s Thorn?” Murtagh asked bitingly, though he didn’t move.
“Come and listen, and I’ll take you to him.”
Murtagh frowned and rose, moving to take a seat beside Galbatorix. His spirit was in turmoil, but he didn’t show it, feeling if he betrayed his true feelings Galbatorix would pounce as if he were a predator. “You swear?”
“I swear.” Galbatorix leaned back in his throne and crossed his legs at the knee, watching Murtagh settle into his own chair. “How much have you learned from the Varden concerning me? Answer honestly; there will be no punishment for that.”
Murtagh licked his lips. “About as much as an enemy is willing to tell the son of a Forsworn.”
Galbatorix nodded. “I see.” He was silent for some time, staring at Murtagh until the young man felt his skin begin to crawl. “What I’m going to tell you is the truth, Murtagh. Hear me out, and then I will take you to Thorn.”
Murtagh bit his cheek and nodded.
“Everyone knows my story,” Galbatorix began, talking easily as if divulging a fairytale for the bedtime story, “just as everyone knows why I brought about the liberation. Yes, liberation. You see, Murtagh, the elders had gotten lax and lazy. If you had enough gold, you could be tested until you were old and grey. They gave children of the poor hope and not one became a Rider. Evil? No. Corrupt? Yes. When they denied me that hope, they revealed their true colours. I had to do something to erase the filth that was corrupting our order.
“Now, granted, there were other ways I could have gone about it but there wasn’t time, not if I wanted to save the Riders yet to be born. What I did, I did for you and Eragon. So you would grow up knowing freedom and power.” Galbatorix looked into Murtagh’s eyes, searching the dark orbs as if for a clue to the young man’s feelings. “But I made too many mistakes.” He continued. “Young Saphira is the only female, Murtagh. The unhatched green is male. She is my key to a new breed of Riders, ones that will know freedom as they should have known it. I just need your help.”
“Why would I help you?” Murtagh asked, curbing his snarl. “All you’ve done is ruin my life. I swore I would never join you.”
“I knew you would say that.” Galbatorix said in an amused tone. “So I took the liberty of making the choice for you. I can’t kill you since you’re bonded to the only male that could be capable of becoming the sire of my new dragons, so I’ve thought of something better. Not quite death, though to you it might amount to the same thing.”
Galbatorix rose then and locked Murtagh in place with a simple word from the Ancient Language. He left the chamber for a brief moment, then returned, slowly followed by a large black dragon.
Shruikan, Murtagh realized as those midnight-black eyes focused on him. There was pain in those eyes, sorrow and regret and Murtagh felt the ancient dragon’s mind brush his. Murtagh shivered and dipped his head, earning the dragon’s amusement. Behind Shruikan came a red dragon half Shruikan’s size, walking oddly. The red dragon didn’t have Shruikan’s panther-like gait, rather bumbling like a bear. Crimson eyes met Murtagh’s and a sheer flash of joy rocked the young Rider.
-Murtagh.- The red whimpered. -It hurts so much.-
-Thorn…?-
-It hurts, Murtagh. All I’ve done is grow and it hurts and the strange magic hurts. I want to bite him but I can’t.-
Murtagh glared at Galbatorix. “What the hell did you do to him?!” he demanded. “What did you do to my dragon?!”
“Your dragon?” Galbatorix asked in feigned surprise. “You forget yourself my young friend. Thorn is not yours. He was never yours, just like Saphira was never Eragon’s. They all belong to me, Thorn, Shruikan, and Saphira.” Galbatorix stepped up to Murtagh and gripped his chin forcefully, not allowing the young man to break eye contact. “You will serve me as your father did. You will ride Thorn to the Empire’s victory and Thorn will be the sire of my dragons.”
“I will never serve you!” Murtagh snarled. “I’ll die before I serve you!”
“While that was my first idea, Thorn has said much the same thing, and I can’t wait for the green to hatch.” Galbatorix replied cheerily. “So as I forced little Thorn to grow, I discovered two lovely pieces of information.”
-Your True Names.- Shruikan rumbled. -He has already bound Thorn. Now you will kneel before your King, Murtagh.- The great dragon’s voice dropped to a whisper. -I tried to save you this pain. I’m sorry.-
Murtagh stared up into the King’s eyes and felt small, insignificant, as that terrible gaze focused on him. Then Murtagh felt Galbatorix in his mind, rooting through memories like before. Murtagh withstood the assault but eventually began to scream as Thorn bellowed his anger, kept still only by Shruikan.
Galbatorix leaned in close to Murtagh’s ear. “Dubshláine, /I bind thee. Swear to me your loyalty, your fealty, your life, and your sword/.”
Murtagh jerked and screamed as pain rocked through him, as he felt the chains locking around his throat and wrists. He grabbed at the chains and only met flesh. He collapsed and Thorn was quick to move to pull Murtagh to him with a gentle claw. Beside Thorn, the pain eased, and Murtagh swallowed, choking as he pressed his head to ruby scales.
-I have you, Murtagh.- Thorn whispered. -You’re safe with me.-
“Dubshláine,” Galbatorix called, “Lorccán. Come and kneel before me.”
Murtagh jerked as if he were a puppet and rose on shaky legs, a hand bracing himself on Thorn’s shoulder. He couldn’t think, and he sank to his knees before Galbatorix.
He repeated oaths told to him in the Ancient Language, and heard Thorn do the same. The weight of the chains grew heavier with each word and when Murtagh’s throat was raw and sore, Galbatorix finished his oaths and allowed the pair to do as they wanted, secure in the knowledge they were bound to him forever.
Murtagh went to his chambers first and bathed. He chased out the maid and found his knife, though his hand was kept from ending his life. Instead, he cut the braid of his hair so now the locks fell free to brush his shoulders. It was all he could do, and he dressed quickly to go meet Thorn. The knowledge of his True Name and Thorn’s shook him to the core. He knew the power of such knowledge and he knew now the consequences. He stepped out onto the wide deck outside his chamber window and watched Thorn twist out of the air to land on the deck.
Murtagh was quick to put his hands on Thorn’s muzzle and press his forehead against the dragon’s warm scales, eyes closed tight.
-What happens now?- Thorn asked. Murtagh tried not to cry out in anger. Thorn was still only a hatchling! A hatchling trapped in an adult’s body and without a clue as to why he was being tortured this way.
“I don’t know,” Murtagh answered. “We’re slaves now, understand? We have to obey his orders and no matter what, we can’t do anything against him.”
-I know. Shruikan told me. He has also been training me. He is in a lot of pain.- Thorn’s sides heaved in a sigh. -I want to help him.-
“As we are, we can’t.” Murtagh said.
-But we will learn.- Murtagh looked up into Thorn’s crimson eyes.
“What do you mean?”
-He has bound us to him. Shruikan as taught me, so the mad one will teach you. You’ll have access to all that is his, so we can learn.-
Murtagh lifted his head and eyed his dragon for a long while. Then he smiled. “You’re a genius.”
Thorn hummed. -I have you. Besides, the Ancient Language can be manipulated as easily as a wish. He may have bound us by the oaths he had us speak today, but he hasn’t made us swear many things. So Shruikan has said.-
“I’ll have to thank Shruikan.” Murtagh said softly.
-We can behave for him.- Thorn lifted his voice just slightly, giving the statement the taste of a question.
Murtagh stroked Thorn’s muzzle. “Yeah,” he said softly, “we can behave.”
Thorn hummed again and shifted, crouching somewhat so that Murtagh would be able to mount. It took Murtagh a moment to figure out where to settle and with Thorn’s help, Murtagh slid into the rider’s hollow between Thorn’s neck and shoulders.
-You haven’t flown yet.- Thorn shook himself as he rose and the young Rider grabbed a tight hold of the ivory white spike in front of him. -I will be gentle.-
“Thanks for the thought.” Murtagh said blandly as Thorn stepped to the edge of the terrace. Murtagh looked down at the ground far, far below them and clutched tighter to the spike with both hands. He locked his legs against Thorn’s scales and took a deep breath.
-Ready?- Thorn asked, amused.
“Just do it!” Murtagh snapped, already feeling his stomach begin to twist.
Laughing, Thorn jumped from the terrace and fell straight down. He snapped out his wings at the last possible moment and soared back up, riding thermals higher and higher. Murtagh managed not to be sick and looked down at the city below them. They were so high! Murtagh clung tighter to the spike and raised his gaze to what was above him. Thorn soared through the clouds, telling Murtagh everything he had learned during their separation. Murtagh asked questions and Thorn answered them and as they flew together, they felt free.
-Murtagh.- Galbatorix’s voice boomed through both their minds, and reality crashed upon the two like a smothering blanket. -Return to Urû’baen at once. Your training is to begin.-
-You heard him.- Murtagh told Thorn. He slumped in his place, closing his eyes. -Let’s go.-
Thorn let out a whine but obeyed, turning in a gentle circle to head back to Urû’baen and their unwanted master.
^
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The Last Scion	By : RotSeele Category: A through F > Eragon Views: 5098 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Eragon. I do not make any money from this story.

The Last Scion