Harry Potter, Inheritance Cycle 1. Chapter 1

There were arguments in the central camp tent of the Varden that early morning in Feinster after starting way in the afternoon the day before when they had conquered the city they were camped almost on the foot of the walls of. The people of the town had eventually submitted to fate as their Lady Lorana was seen to be well cared in the custody of the Varden troops.

The "debate" as Nasuada, the leader of the Varden, had intended it to be was being conducted in the tent as they felt intrusive on Feinster as they did not plan to overcrowd their city and own it like Galbatorix would have done if he was in their stead as they would not descend to his low life level.

The dark skinned and ebony black haired leader of the Varden, mentioned above, was sitting tired in her chair at the head of the table next to Commander Jömundur, on her left, and the Rider Eragon, her liege, and his Dragon Saphira behind him curled up and resting on her head on her overlaid claws.

Wise words spoken with a calm yet bored voice flooded Nasuada's mind.

_They need to listen if they want to get some sleep soon, _Saphira thought to the young woman in the head chair of the table and her rider next to her.

Nasuada looked to Saphira in the corner of her eye as if to say 'I know' and turned her eyes back to the table. She picked up her cup and a large sip of water and stood up. The men fell silent at her standing and sat themselves down.

"We know what we need to do," she said with a strength that she muscled up from somewhere inside her that her wounds from the trial of the long knives had not taken from her. "We need to conquer Belatona, then Dras-Leona and then we will march on to Urû'baen. We need to defeat Galbatorix and free the land of Alageasia."

"But my lady," answered Jömundur. "We have only Eragon to defeat Galbatorix and Murtagh who are both skilled as Eragon. How is he to defeat them? Especially if they have the remaining dragon eggs and can get them to hatch."

She looked at her commander and paused for effect before her answer.

"Then Jömundur," she replied, looking at him they surveying the rest of the council, "We will get the dragon egg back."

A shocked silence fell on the occupants of the large tent: the flames around the warm orange tent edges flickered; breathes were breathed quietly; and nothing moved or made a sound. Compared to the sounds of arguments, that had only been a few minuets ago; you could hear an axe being used in training combat over the other side of the widespread camp.

Nasuada waited for the men to get their heads around the new proposition.

"Gentlemen, ladies," she said gesturing to the council. "I think it's best that we all reconvene tomorrow evening when we have had a good rest. Good morning to you all."

As the council got up and exited she called back: Eragon and Saphira; Angela with the Werecat Solembum; and the witch child Elva.

"How are we supposed to get the egg?" asked Eragon. "It's sure to be guarded by a many men and magical defences in the deepest part of possibly Urû'baen or Gil'ead or some other well defended city."

Nasuada sat down in her chair and sighed. "I don't know but we're going to have to find a way."

"I think there's going to be a way," said Elva from behind Angela.

"How?" asked Nasuada.

"I don't know for definite but I think there's a way," she replied with wisdom way beyond her age of one year and seven months and her looks of a seven year old.


	2. Chapter 2

Meanwhile in the dark yet glorious castle in Urû'baen and old yet fearsome King sat on his throne in his room crushing the end of the arms of his chair, that he ruled Alagaesia from with an iron fist, between his thumb and fingers.

His eyes connected with a harsh glare to the young man at the other side of the large room and nodded for the door to open. The door man, who was only nineteen, opened the door to let in the young man and the scarlet dragon through the entrance to the hall.

The door man looked back at his master. Another stern nod told him to get out of the room and leave him and his apprentice alone. He scuttled outside and stood outside until he was called back in.

Galbatorix turned his attention to the young man before him. He was tall, muscled, well tanned and considered, from what he had overheard from women of the court and servants, that he was quiet handsome. He was a mixture of his mother and father: Good intellect, inventiveness and curiosity from his mother, Selena; Enviable swordsmanship and long bow skills from his father, Morzan. His features were like his fathers but softened by his mothers: Shoulder length dark brown hair instead of cutting jet black; A manly yet slightly softer jaw line than his father's; But more intelligent, more thoughtful more caring and yet just as jaded as his father.

All of this, however, didn't equal him to Galbatorix's power, brute force and his mad and evil mind.

"Murtagh," he said distastefully.

He looked up from the spot behind the King unwillingly and in that second after he fell to the ground in agony with his Dragon who both let out the same cry of pain and torment.

Murtagh and Thorn looked up to their tormentor after the third and final round of mental and physical affliction and got up when they saw that the cruel rider was not going to do it again… for a while at least.

"You did well in Gil'ead," said Galbatorix pacing around the young rider.

"Then why punish us?" asked Murtagh before he could stop himself.

Swish. Galbatorix turned suddenly behind him and Murtagh turned to meet his gaze.

"My dear boy," he said, continuing his circling, with a silky smooth voice that sounded like melted honey.

Yeah right, thought Murtagh, Like I'm your 'dear boy'. Like anything is dear to you.

"I did that," he said as he finished his circle, "Because we have been beaten in Feinster. The Varden have taken the city."

A silence filled the hall for many minuets until Galbatorix spoke again.

"I need you to go to Gil'ead again to check on the last hopes for the Varden to defeat us are squashed. Will you do that?" asked Galbatorix.

Murtagh knew he had no choice; he would never have a choice when it included Galbatorix ever again.

"Yes, sire," he replied bowing slightly.

"Good then you will set off the day after tomorrow." The king turned his back on his unwilling servant and rang the bell. The door man went to open the door and Murtagh and Thorn retired to their rooms in the palace.

_We will have to make sure that no one can get to the egg, _thought Murtagh.

_No one will little one, _answered Thorn as he paced slowly to their own dragon keep.


	3. Chapter 3

In the warm breeze of the mid summer evening laughter could be heard from the castle that night. Hogwarts was hosting the seventh years graduation ceremony and after party for the seventh year students and families.

The party was still going on when in the silhouetted shadow on the grounds a girl walked out slowly of the entrance. When she looked back at the castle to see that no one had followed her she ran to the white tomb of the old headmaster.

She lay by the side of the pure stone tomb of Albus Dumbledore and watched the sun descend in its orange heaven to the horizon. Her red house t-shirt went very well with the sky colour she realised before she closed her eyes to focus on the sun on her face and lower arms, as the sleeves were short, before the last minuets of the day time of her last day at school came to an end.

She could hear the birds and other animals, magical and ordinary, in the forest behind her: The Quiver of an arrow being let loose for its bow in the arms of a centaur; the rustle of leaves as a thestral scoured the woodland for food; and all the other things she could in the almost silence.

A little later though she felt something change. Realising that there were voices surrounding her was well not unusual but then she realised that the cool granite that had been behind her left ear and back that she had rested on was now a comfortable softness of a bed and pillow. She was lying down, not sitting upright and with a moment her eyes snapped open.

Looking slowly to the side, wondering if she had just been brought to a room but when she looked to the side she saw two men she did not know in attire of tunics, trousers, armour, with bows and arrows on their backs and swords at their hips that did not suit the modern age she lived in.

As she sat up the men, who had been in deep discussion, turned to look at her.

Men in the loosest definition of the word, however: Humanoid is probably a better word for them as both from their faces looked quiet exotic looking. They had slanted eyes and angular faces, their movement matched their looks as they moved sharply at the quiet sound of her getting up. One of them however was even stranger as he had dark blue fur growing all over his body the other had brown hair, which matched his eyes, only on his head.

"Good morning," greeted the more, well the only word she could think of was, normal of the two. "How are you?"

"I'm…," she said slowly, finding out how she felt. "Alright, but where am I and what happened?"

"I think that would be better explained when we see who you are."

"Who I am?" she asked as he gestured for her to get up off the crib.

"Yes," he replied as he escorted her with the other humanoid, which if J.'s world she would have called an elf or at least similar if he didn't have the fur, out of the tent and through a maze of other similar tents to, what she believed, was a central tent.


	4. Chapter 4

Voices wafted out of the tent as the opening in the fabric was pulled back so that she and the other two could walk in. The voices stopped and the young, dark skinned woman, in a beautifully and brightly coloured dress, turned around after ending her conversation with the other gentlemen to welcome the other men.

"Eragon," she said with relief. "Blödhgarm. What has happened?"

The two men stepped forth, the man with fur stayed in the shadow as if protecting the other from an attack. He gave a glance to the other side of the tent where a woman stood with a large and unusual cat was at her feet.

She stared at the cat which turned her way and nodded which, if she hadn't been used to more bizarre things from the wizarding world, would have been unsettling to others.

"My Lady," he said nodding his head towards her. "The girl they found last night is here to be tested." They turned to face her.

Nasuada looked at the girl in front of her. She wore clothes that were foreign and unusual for a girl to wear where she came from: Some kind of red tunic with short sleeves; Trousers of a unfamiliar fabric and coloured a blue to almost navy shade; and finally laced up shoes, red with white laces and a white circle appliqué on the outside of both. She was, as Nasuada estimated her by appearance even though she knew that they could be deceiving, about the same age as her, a little younger perhaps.

The girl was calm and collected, surprisingly, in spite of her situation, she thought.

"Who are you?" she asked as she stood before the girl.

The girl inhaled a breath and looked up from her feet and into Nasuada's eyes. "My name is Rachel my lady," she replied evenly, as if she was concentrating very hard on keeping her head up.

She didn't smile yet, but Nasuada smiled to herself in her head. She seems like a strong person- If she's not a threat I will probably like her.

"So, Rachel," said Nasuada after a pause in the address. "Do you know how you got here?"

Nasuada paced towards Eragon and Blödhgram as Rachel answered. "I don't know. I only remember falling asleep where I was and then waking up in a bed and tent that I've never seen before."

She stopped and turned around, after walking half way to the other two.

"There's a war going on if you didn't already know and we, as a precaution, need to examine the minds of people we come into contact with… Do you object to having yours examined?"

Rachel looked at the woman before her: She seemed trustworthy and she, herself, knew that to gain their trust she must allow her mind to be searched.

"No I don't object," Rachel said.

Nasuada nodded and looked back to the others. "Eragon could you?" she asked.

The young man, whose name was Eragon, walked towards her: Now she could see him properly unlike earlier when it was only a brief glimpse. He had brown hair and eyes of the same shade and his expression was kindly and warning.

He stood in front of her. "This may use up a bit of energy but it shouldn't hurt unless you resist," he told her as she looked into his eyes. She nodded to allow him to put his hand upon her head.

Suddenly her mind was whirring and bustling with her memories and thoughts of her life time. After a few minuets he stopped and stared at her.

"My lady I can't find anything to do with Galbatorix or even our world," he told her.

Rachel could almost hear the minds of people in the tent shock outbursts forming in their mind.

While Eragon, Blödhgram and Nasuada consulted each other she stood in the tent and took in her surroundings. She felt a brush up the side of her leg and saw that the cat that had been with the woman was by her feet. She sat on her heels and rubbed gently behind the cat's ears.

Now what are you? She thought. You're not an ordinary cat by any means- a kneazle maybe, but you're larger than an ordinary cat and you don't have spots so what are you?

You mean you haven't heard of a werecat before? It asked looking into her blue eyes with its own red orbs.


	5. Chapter 5

Rachel sat there for a few minuets before she rocked back on her heels and stood up. It… the werecat had heard her thoughts and had responded.

She woke up, in a sense, by actually looking a registering her surroundings again and noticed that the group had stopped and the cat was back with the woman again.

"You talked with him?" asked the short, curly brown haired woman staring at her.

"I didn't know I could do that," she replied to the occupants of the tent.

The group stared at the other woman and she nodded to them as if to say 'Go ahead- I'll take care of her'. They went back to talking amongst themselves.

She guided her out of the tent with the werecat in toe brushing against the other woman's feet.

"My name's Angela, by the way," she said, introducing herself. "That there," she gestured to the werecat, "Is Solembum- if he didn't already tell you-"

"No, he didn't," she replied as they took a few sharp turnings through the narrower gaps in the tents to avoid the other people milling about and staring at Rachel's odd apparel.

"Well that wouldn't surprise me," she said as they veered into one of the smaller tents.

Inside there was an abundant of interesting objects that were crammed into the small living space.

"Now where are they? ... Where are they? …" Angela wondered as she sorted through the piles of instruments. "Ah, here they are," she sighed as she brought out a drawstring bag and laid them on the table.

"Sit down, sit down." The words were hurriedly said.

"I have to ask before I start, but do you want your future read?" she asked.

Silence followed the question. After a few minuets the young girl voiced her concerns.

"Isn't that a very imprecise art?" she asked the woman in front of her.

"Only if you're guessing," she replied evasively.

Rachel looked at the curly brown haired woman in front of her and thought that if she was offering that she thought it might help.

"Ok," she replied and straightened her back and looked Angela in her brown eyes. "I'll have my fortune told."

Angela looked back at the girl before her and took the bones out of the bag, laid the cloth of the bag open on the table and raised them.

"_Manin! Wyrda! Hugin!_" she powerfully pronounced the words and threw the bones in the air and let them scatter on the cloth below.

"This is interesting," she muttered. "Very interesting."

"What is?" Rachel asked, puzzled as to how her life could be interesting.

"This bone here with this symbol," she said pointing at the bone with a circle and a tangent line to it marked on the bone. "That means you will either live forever or and very prolonged life."

Well, she thought, that's possible for a witch. Her mind wondered what was happening back home.

"The wandering path indicates that you have choices to make. Your choices affect people all over this land and the people you meet even more."

"Now," said Angela in an even, hushed voice, "The rose blossom," she showed her on the bone, "Tells me you will find love in a mysterious and handsome young man and the way it lies balanced on the crescent moon says that you will need to overcome difficulties to keep your love. These bones are all intertwined which indicates you need to do all of them to achieve everything."

Angela looked up from her stool at the young girl in front of her. She stared at the brown hair and blue eyes of the girl sitting their taking it in. Solembum leapt onto the girls lap and she stroked him absentmindedly.

"I suppose you're going to tell me not to dwell on it so I live my life or the prophecy will not be fulfilled sitting here doing nothing?" she asked when she finally looked up at Angela.

"Only if you think so," she smiled at the girl.

"Well I'll see you soon," she replied. "Goodbye Angela, Solembum." She got up and went to leave before the werecat stopped her for a minuet. She looked up at Angela.

"He…"

"He said what he said to you and only you dear," she replied, refusing to know what Solembum had not told her, most likely, for a reason.

"Now let's go back to the tent," She said looping her arm through hers with Solembum leading the way.

"Why are we going back?" Rachel asked Angela, determined to get carried away by her fortune.

"Because dear," she explained to the interested girl, "It is best to be at the action rather than hear it second hand. Everyone misses out the important parts."

Rachel stared at her companion for a few minuets as they strode to the tent together. "But you don't seem to be a gossip," she replied curiously.

"I'm not, I'm well informed."

They entered the central tent again. The people inside nodded and carried on as though they had not entered.

Then a noise pierced the area as, suddenly, a knife span through the room towards that dark skinned woman Nasuada. Guards ran after it but they knew they were too late. Nasuada froze in shock as it sped towards her. Eragon and Blödhgarm weren't quick enough to get over there in time.

Abruptly a shout of the word "Expelliarmus!" sounded across the tent and the knife flew on to the floor in the opposite direction. They all turned to see Rachel lowered a wooden stick, known to her as a wand.


	6. Chapter 6

"Thank you," said Nasuada minuets later her guards went to find the assassin. "You saved my life."

"It was nothing- Anyone would have done it," Rachel replied slightly awkwardly with all the attention.

Nasuada examined her quizzically for a few moments. "We could use skills like yours."

Rachel thought about it. "I would have to know," she said after a while, "what it would be used for and why to make a decision of helping you."

Nasuada lifted her head. "Eragon can we trust her?" she asked in a clear voice.

Eragon looked at the young girl: She was short, about Angela's height; Dark brown wavy hair with bright clear blue eyes; and was, even though attired quiet differently from any woman he had met –including Arya, quiet pretty in a unique way. All of this was matched her thought in what he'd seen of her in her mind: thoughtful; kind; considerate; clever; philosophical at times; witty; and she knew it, although she hid it to surprise others which gave her an advantage on occasion. Above all though she seemed to believe in right and wrong and he believed that she'd understand their plight.

"Yes my Lady. I believe she is," he said with full conviction. Rachel looked over to him and she smiled slightly even though she was uncomfortable. He smiled back at her with ease for her smile seemed infectious in the sweetest of ways.

"Well," said Nasuada sitting down in a chair at the table. "We have a lot to tell you."

Eragon sat with her and Rachel took a chair facing them.

"There's a man named Galbatorix," started Eragon in a grave voice and through the next half hour he told her a story of the fall of the dragon riders and how he had gotten wrapped up in the legend by finding a dragon egg in the forest of his home and then was whisked away on an adventure that endangered his life and his dragon Saphira, at which point Rachel heard a grumbling at the opening of the tent and saw Saphira's large, beautiful blue eye peering through the tent and looked at her. Eragon continued about the fights with the war they were having with the empire. At parts of the story he seemed to edit out bits that Rachel felt must be important but felt it was unreasonable to pry into the inner workings of his mind. He deserved privacy at least from others apart from Saphira who heard his thoughts.

"Now," he said. "We need to get the last dragon egg but it's under guard and we can't let the empire know we're in their territory."

"We wondered if we could use your help?" asked Nasuada.

Rachel thought for a moment and then rose from her chair. "Your plight seems righteous and you need help. I think I can do it. Will you let me explain my plan?"

The two of them nodded. Rachel opened the map on the table, left there, by hand, so as not to frighten them with her magic.

She pointed at Gil'ead. "I will start there and if I do not find it there I shall go to Urû'baen and find it there. With another to help with protection and a cover story: As I'm not gifted with a sword and because a woman alone would draw attention." They agreed to the idea and kept on listening. "Then with the help of magic I can summon the egg: Hopefully, I can also use the magic to break through the enchantments."

"Then we can return the eggs- I was thinking that maybe you could send the other person round through the small towns to divert attention because they'd expect the thief to go through the quickest possible way out."

Eragon stood up and looked at her. "I think that's a good plan, but I was wondering, Lady Nasuada, if they could also retrieve Naegling- If we're going to have a new rider they should have a rider's sword."

Nasuada looked at Eragon for a minuet then nodded. "Yes you're right Eragon. Rachel," she said looking at the girl before her.

"Yes my Lady," she replied showing the upmost respect to the woman.

"To serve me you must swear allegiance to me. Are you willing to do that?" she asked.

"Yes my Lady," she said humbly.

"Then repeat after me: I, Rachel, swear myself to Nasuada, daughter of Ajihad, leader of the Varden."

"I, Rachel, swear myself to Nasuada, daughter of Ajihad, leader of the Varden."

Nasuada smiled. "Now we must get a companion to accompany you."

"My Lady," said a man who walked in to the tent. "Forgive me but I heard you conversation. I would be willing to accompany the young girl."

She studied him for a while. "Why thank you Jömundur. I was just about to ask of you knew of anyone- You are the most trustworthy of, almost, all my men… Yes you can accompany Rachel."


	7. Chapter 7

Jömundur and Rachel got packed immediately: Rachel was given some more inconspicuous clothes for the journey and they both packed lightly with bags. Jömundur, being more knowledgeable of journeys and horse riding packed the saddle bags with food and armed himself with a sword and bow.

"You'll be riding with me," he explained as he strapped the saddle onto the horse.

"Will I have to ride side saddle?" she asked as she stroked the horse's nose.

"Yes," he said. He looked at her. "They said that you didn't know much about riding though- how do you know that if you lived in a different world?"

"It's not completely different," she explained smiling a little.

Jömundur saddled the horse and dropped his hand down for Rachel and she took it and pulled herself up into a side saddle position.

"What's our story if anyone asks?" she asked in his ear as he grabbed the reins and the horse started to trot out of the camp.

"I am your father and we are travelling to your sister's wedding," he replied as they were exiting the camp.

Once they had gotten away from Feinster Jömundur set the horse off at a running pace and they stopped occasionally for meals at inns and for the night. The journey to Gil'ead to two weeks. They set up camp and Jömundur went to search the city undercover in disguise. He came back three nights later with news.

"The eggs are in a guarded cell," he said as he jumped down from his horse and grabbed a bowl of soup and scoffed the meal down. He explained the full details of the room and where it was to her.

"So," he asked. "Do you think you can get it?" he asked.

She pondered in thought for a while. "I think I night just be able to," she replied conclusively.

He smiled at her. "Tomorrow will be a day to remember."

"Yes it will," she said. "Now I'm going to get some sleep."

Rachel stood outside the prison in a cloak that covered her face. She advanced to the front doors.

"What're you going in there for?" asked a guard.

"I have to talk to someone," she said in a croaky voice, imitating an old woman.

"Oh really?" he asked.

Rachel aimed her wand under her cloak at him and was glad that she'd taken the lucky potion this morning to help her. Confundus, she cursed in her head. He became at odds and let her in.

She followed Jömundur's intructions to the room, thankfully avoiding the guards and suspicion thanks to the potion.

"Alohomora," she muttered as she opened the lock and slipped inside shutting the door silently behind her.

Lumos, she thought and the room was lit dimly instantly. She tread over the bits and bobs on the floor daintily. When she got to the selves she muttered "Accio dragon egg."

Suddenly two boxes slid out and opened themselves. Rachel looked in both of them and gasped. There were two eggs there.

Just then she heard voices from outside. She grabbed the eggs and stuffed them in her bag beneath her travelling cloak and apparated with a pop out of the room into the camp.

"We need to go," said Rachel quickly ignoring Jömundur's shock.

"Good," he said as he packed the last of their belongings away and they both saddled the horse and rode to Ceunon to the elves.


	8. Chapter 8

A roar of anger rang throughout the palace like shock waves: Everyone could hear it and no one wanted to be near the producer of such a noise, especially not now it was angry. The king was not happy, that was obvious.

"Get him," he growled to the guards as they scampered off to the castle to find the man they knew he was talking about with a guttural snarl.

Minuets later the doors burst open to the great hall. The doors clanged against the wall and the sound echoed round the room from the force of the push against it. The doormen jumped hurriedly out of the way.

"Murtagh," he bellowed as the guards dragged him in.

Murtagh shook them off and stood before him. He looked at the ground before his lord, trying to keep himself in check so he wouldn't be punished this time.

Not that that'll help, thought the little voice of reason in is head. Shut up, he thought to himself, listen he's about to talk.

_Little one, _echoed Thorn's thoughts in his mind. _Concentrate._

"Do you know what has happened?" he shouted at him, spitting on his face.

"No, sire," replied Murtagh.

"I'll tell you what has happened," he replied, ignoring the scared faces of his servants. "The last dragon eggs have been taken!"

The servants whispered to each other but the king silenced them with a glare that made them understood that if anyone else found out he would blame them regardless.

"Don't you mean the last sir?" asked Murtagh cautiously. "There was only one more."

"There were two you idiot. I found four not three. I just didn't tell you because I knew you'd blurt it out to your little friends in the Varden and now looks what's happened!"

Murtagh opened his mouth to defend himself, because he couldn't tell them because he didn't know himself, but then thought better of it. Unfortunately, Galbatorix noticed.

"WHAT?" he raged. He didn't wait for an answer. Murtagh felt a blinding pain coursing up his veins that kept him in agony for, what felt like, an age.

When it stopped Galbatorix regained some composure, although he still had a mad glint in his eye.

"Thorn will stay here while you try and find the eggs again," he commanded.

Murtagh bowed his head and left the hall. He had to do what the king said because of his oath, however much he hated him and what he had to do, and saddled up Tornac.

_Goodbye little one, _said Thorn with a sense of deep sorrow in his voice.

_Goodbye Thorn, _he said solemnly. _Keep safe._

_I'll keep safe, I'm a dragon, _he thought with a rumble in his thoughts.

Murtagh packed his things away and changed into travelling clothes with regret in his heart. He preferred to stay in the palace on his own and not going outside where people would hate him because of his birth right.

At least I'll be alone again for a while, he thought as he left the gates of Urû'baen.


	9. Chapter 9

Murtagh took a week to reach Gil'ead to find out where and how the eggs had been stolen. The guards told the strangest of stories of how they didn't see anyone suspicious going in or out and that we they heard something in the cupboard how they had to break down the door and when they got in that they heard a 'pop' sound and that no one was in there when they opened it up.

He left Gil'ead and set off down the road in the direction of the easiest way to get to the Varden, if that was where he assumed it was being taken. He headed to the villages by the Ramr River.

Rachel walked down the road to the small village. Jömudur had left to Ceunon with the eggs and went to the elves to collect the sword Naegling last week and had departed company for a while. Until, that is, they saw each other again back at the camp when they got back different ways to Feinster.

At this moment she was walking down a road away from a little village she had passed by so they could not interrogate her reasons for traveling alone. So far no one had passed or stopped by to ask her where or why she was travelling alone down the road. It was only a matter of time though for she could evade the people and questions for so long.

Hearing horse's foot falls, she walked slowly on the side of the rode and hoped whoever it was would just pass her by. Then the sound stopped, it seemed, near to her.

Just keep calm, she thought, keep calm and carry on.

"Excuse me," said a low male voice. Rachel looked up to see a young man with dark brown almost shoulder length hair that dipped in front of his grey eyes. "I was wondering if you needed a companion for you journey?"

She looked in front as she answered him. "Exactly why would you think I need a companion?"

He looked at her curiously. "You're a woman alone- all sorts of dangerous people could try and take advantage of you."

"And what makes you assume that I can't handle them?" she asked looking back at him.

"I'm not saying you can't but you might not recognise that they're bad at the time."

She paused and pondered his answer. "Are you a bad person?" she asked.

He looked into her blue eyes and said, "I probably am."

"Finally," she said in a laughing voice. "Someone who tells the truth."

"I tell the truth?" he asked her as she started walking along the side of the road again.

"Everyone assumes that they are doing the right thing. It's refreshing to meet someone critical of themselves," she replied.

He pondered her answer and then laughed with her as they walked along the road together with his hands on the reins of his horse walking, in horse terms, next to them. "Yes I guess you're right… So are you allowing me to accompany you?" he asked.

She stopped for a bit and looked at him again. "What's his name?" asked Rachel gesturing to the horse.

"His name is Tornac," he replied.

"That's a good name," she stated, smiling. "And what's yours?"

"Murtagh," he explained as he dropped his head to the ground as he wished he was someone else. "My name is Murtagh."

"That's a good name," she said looking at the trees covered in amber light ahead.

"It is?" he asked. "I never liked it to be honest." She giggled lightly at this news. "And what's yours, may I ask?"

"You've already asked," she pointed out. "My name is Rachel and I never thought much of it either."

He looked at her for a while. "It's pretty," he said in a friendly tone that he hadn't used in a while.

"What is?" she asked looking back at where he had stopped.

"Your name, it's pretty," he explained to her. "It fits with you."

She blushed as she realised what he was saying. "Now I'm not sure if I should trust you- You're lying," Rachel explained when she saw his confused expression on his face.

"I'm not lying," he said as he defended his earlier words to the girl.

"Thank you Murtagh," she said looking him in his deep grey eyes again.

"You're welcome, Rachel," he replied.

"Well then," she said as they stood at the side of the road together. "Murtagh I would be glad of the company," she said and they set of down the road together, again.


	10. Chapter 10

Murtagh didn't really understand why he had decided to keep her company, maybe he thought it would be nice to act normal for once or seem normal at least. What he found out though was that she was like a breath of fresh air in his life: She didn't judge him for who his parents were, actually it seemed like she didn't know much about them or the king or who he was which was even better, she just listened to him and they talked together for a while.

"We'd better find somewhere to rest for the night," he said as he realised it was about to get dark in an hour or so.

"Where: an inn in a village of out in the open?" she asked casually breathing in and out deeply as though she was quiet open to either.

"Out in the open," he replied. "The next village is too far away."

"Alright," she answered him. "We'll have to find a clearing and some logs won't we?" she asked. "And food," she added to her list again.

"I've got some food in my bag," he said. "And I'll kill some game for us to eat."

"That sounds good, but please tell me** you** know how to cook it because I'm not that good at it," she admitted to him as he walked into the woods to find a clearing he remembered around the area that he'd stayed in before.

It's been a while since I've been here, he thought. He looked at the clearing. He had camped there when he looked for the new rider. Pained by those memories he thought about what Rachel had said.

"I do, don't you worry," he replied as he went to picket his horse and put his stuff next to a log to sit on.

"Good," she replied. "I'll go and get some twigs and fallen branches and then come back to see how to cook from you."

He grabbed his bow and came with her into the surrounding undergrowth and trees. "You shouldn't go into the woods alone," he murmured into her left ear as he strung his bow and moved silently by her side and spied for deers or rabbits to eat.

After cooking the tea and eating Murtagh and Rachel talked for a while. They never breached the topic of what they were doing apart from when he asked where she was going.

When he asked her she paused and grappled for an answer in her brain. "I'm going west to Belatona," she replied. "I'm going to one of the smaller towns round there but I'll probably leave you before then- No offence but I think it's better. I have some things to do and places to go and gossip spreads fast. If I'm seen with a man people I know don't know they'll speculate that well…" she left her sentence off there whilst trying to explain herself.

"I understand," he said after a pause of silence had passed a sufficient amount of time.

"I was wondering," she said leaning forwards, letting the glow of the fire spread showing her eager face, "If you could teach me to fight with a sword and bow?"

He looked at her intrigued. "You want to learn how to fight?" She nodded at him, staring into his eyes as she did. "But you're a-"

"Girl- Yeah I know," she finished his sentence. "But I want to know."

He studied her for a bit and then answered her unusual request. "Alright," he replied. "I'll teach you the basics. We'll start in the morning."

She smiled at him. "Alright."

And they went to sleep on the forest floor covered by their cloaks.

"Ok," said Murtagh from across the circle around the embers of the fire from last night. His stance was of a trained swordsman, one hand up in a defensive position with one of the wooden swords he had fashioned in his hand. Rachel was on the other side with the other wooden sword. Her stance, however, was of a novice. "Just block what I'm doing."

He started advancing on her: jabbing, thrusting and swinging his sword as she blocked his movements.

"Good," he commented. "Now see if you can attack me."

She focused for a while and obtained no upper hand for another few minuets, but after a while she gained confidence and started advancing. He admitted to himself she was pretty good for a novice; whether she would get better with practice would be another matter.

Just then she twisted his wooden blade and it toppled to the ground. Hers was at his chest.

She looked at him and then her eyes dropped a bit and sighed. "You didn't try did you," she stated, unhappily.

"I had to let you build up your confidence. You didn't seem to want to hurt me," he argued. He looked at her. "You're pretty good for someone who doesn't know what they're doing."

She looked at him. "Thanks," she said half smiling, half grimacing.

He packed up and mounted his horse and held his hand for her to get on. As she took her seat on the saddle behind him he asked, "Same time tomorrow?"

"Sure," she said smiling as she held on to him as they galloped off down the road on Tornac, whooping for joy at their care free moment.


	11. Chapter 11

Murtagh felt that the time he was sharing with Rachel was a lot like when he had been on the run from the empire with Eragon: they had unspoken rules of the fact he would hunt and they'd practice sword fights and archery. The only thing that they didn't seem to have as an unspoken rule was talking about their pasts. He found that out one day when they were siting by the fire and Rachel suddenly asked him a question out of the silence of the crackling flames.

"Murtagh where are your parents?" she asked as she absentmindedly stirred the fire with a stick of wood. She looked up at him and then said, "Or would you rather me talk about something else?" She asked in a worried way.

He looked at her. The amber glow of the fire lit up the features of her face: her hair had a golden undertone, her complexion was a warm yet pale honey like shade and her blue eyes were clear and lighter with honesty.

"They're dead," he answered her looking back down at his bow that he was checking.

She peered at him over the fire from the log she was sitting on. His face was also lit up showing the softness of hid face that you couldn't see in the daylight. His tanned skin looked warm and inviting not hostile like his manner to other people, his grey eyes were intelligent but, like his skin, was now inviting in the evening air and fire. Admittedly he was quiet strong looking: inside and out she guessed and it seemed like what he had just betrayed from his answer was what she voiced next.

"You don't seem to be unhappy about it," she stated. He noticed that it wasn't a question more what seemed to be an assumed fact.

He looked at the ground as he answered. "Only about my father really and I guess I am upset about my mother but I learnt to live with my lot."

Rachel blinked a little at his answer his 'lot' in life must be more than that what he has mentioned. She decided a little bit at a time would be good and not to press him too much.

He looked at her a put the bow aside. "You seem quiet perceptive," he perceived himself. She nodded as in an almost agreement with him. "Where did you get that from?" She looked at him questioningly. "You're family- which one are you like?"

"Oh," she said and then said. "I don't know- I've been told I look like my mother and act like my dad and my maternal mother but I've never known myself."

Murtagh deciphered this information. Not sure what she was meaning he asked, "Dis you know your parents?"

She looked back at him. She smiled. "You're just as perceptive I see." Sighing she finished her train of thought out loud. "I never really knew them but I was raised by others who did and I spent so much time with my extended family and friends family that I felt I hadn't missed out on them. Now and then it changes but it's a good life."

"Who are your friends' family then?" he asked smiling at this girl's positive outlook on life.

"My friends Lysander and Lorcan- they're twin sons of Luna and Rolf Scamander," she explained. "During the summer they'd let me stay round their house and we'd talk about creatures they'd seen and sometimes they'd take me to see them." She stared off into the distance dreamily and thought of the times and how the Scamander twins and her would walk around school together.

"Lucky you," said Murtagh bringing her back to the present. "I never got that," he explained as he looked at the ground.

"Well there's still time to have it," she said.

"I'm too old for that," he said.

"No one is too old for that," she said laughing. "Believe me- if we weren't I'd hate it."

He chuckled at her in agreement before they went to sleep.


	12. Chapter 12

Sleeping, Murtagh thought was the only time of day he might not be disturbed. Hearing rustling nearby made him wake a little but he was too unawake to register it any more than an animal in the undergrowth. Unfortunately, he was wrong.

He heard a stifled scream and woke up to see Rachel being overpowered by a young man. He'd expect her on a normal day to be able to defend herself but normally she was awake and alert but it wasn't normal to be attacked in your sleep when no one's looking for you. It must have been someone looking for him.

As he hopped over the log and grabbed for his bow the man turned and saw him go. As he grabbed his bow and arrow the man turned out to be not alone. His friend came from behind him and held him down but because of his distraction Rachel was able to kick him in the groin and escape. Murtagh felt a small stab of pity for the kid: he had been on the receiving end of one of her kicks on his legs from training in sword and unarmed fighting her and it hurt- he didn't want to know what it felt like in that particular place.

She grabbed inside her boot and fished out a small dagger he had seen occasionally and held it in front of her. The young mad hesitated but then went for it and under estimated her. Within seconds she had the dagger to his throat and seemed to be very threatening, even though he knew she would never use it against him.

She looked up at the man he himself was in the power of. "Let go of him," she growled.

The other thief looked down at him. He scowled but let him go. Rachel let him go as well and walled away from them nearer to Murtagh. The men went back after her a few seconds after her. All he could do to protect her was grab his bow in front of him and shot two arrows into them killing them instantly.

Murtagh's jaw tightened instantly. He didn't know if she would be used to death or killing like he was. He turned to her but saw her turning to the river. He let her go: She would need time to get over the shock.

What was going on in her mind however was completely different. Murtagh had just shot two men. He had killed. With as much ease as killing for food, as if life didn't matter and she felt… something like a mix of sadness, revolt and above all else something like disappointment and upset that Murtagh was like that. She needed to get some water to refresh her and regain her senses.

Murtagh noticed that she'd been gone for ten minuets. He got anxious after fifteen. He got up and went to the river. She was there crouching down whilst splashing and drinking water out of her hands: her dark hair falling across her face; her eyes bright; her gentle posture yet aggressive weapon in her boot. He was slightly taken aback of how she looked a lot like what he remembered his mother to be- his father had given him a picture the time he had been upset as a small child and to calm him down the nurse maid had asked for a picture so he might feel better. Morzan had been very astounded and unimpressed by the idea but he agreed if it meant he didn't have to see the child and share found fuzzy fake memories of him with his son.

He walked on soft feet to her making enough sound for her not to be frightened but enough to know he was there. She looked up at him and looked back down as she straightened up. He noticed her uneasiness as she looked at him.

"What?" he asked. "What's the problem?"

By the way she stared at him, with abomination, he knew immediately that was the wrong thing to say. "What's the problem?" she exclaimed passionately. "I'll tell you what the problem is."


	13. Chapter 13

"You killed others without even thinking how it would impact anyone else Murtagh!" she shouted at him with a look of disgust on her face. "They probably had a family to help or other people depending on them-"

"Oh and I was supposed to let them kill you was I?" he asked his voice rising with hers. "I was supposed to let him kill you when others might depend on you."

"I understand that but you didn't need to kill the-"

"Well what was I SUPPOSED to do?" he yelled as he took a few angry paced steps towards her. She didn't waver in her place but closed her eyes and deliberately breathed calmly. She bit her bottom lip and opened her eyes to look up at him.

"You could've wiped their memories and sent them on their way," she answered tensely and in a lower pitch. "You could've acted in a way that could've shaved their lives. You could have done anything that would've meant that no one had to lose their lives. I've seen to many situations get out of control that could've been solved without bloodshed." She emphasised her main points.

As she walked away from he answered her. "That's not how it works. You wouldn't know how to act in these situations!"

She stopped dead in her tracks and turned to face him with a look of loathing in her eyes. "I have been in worse situations compared to you Murtagh and I've survived with my humanity intact. You have no idea what I've been through."

She turned herself back but his anger was pent up now he crossed over to her and grabbed her wrist from behind. He didn't know what he would've done next but he wouldn't find out. He heard her yell an incantation and suddenly he was flying through the air and landing on his back in the dust.

He looked up shocked. Rachel had magic. Magic he had never now, seen or even heard about. He saw her own shock at what she had done. She stood stock still and then bolted past him, but not quick enough for him to stop her as he had already jumped up and held her back from running.

He looked down at her and saw the terror in her eyes. "Rachel what's wrong?"

She breathed shallowly before she stated, "You're going to kill me know aren't you?"

"What? No!" jumbled out of his mouth. "No of course I won't."

A silence wedged itself between them and he broke it by saying that he was sorry he killed the men but he wanted to protect her and didn't know any other way to do so.

Looking down she answered him saying that she understood but hoped now that he knew there might be other ways to do things that he would consider them if the opportunity was right.

He promised he would try and she said that was all she asked.

He asked her about her magic and she told him about herself the little she could explain in the moments before the took rest that night.

This was the start of the turning point in their friendship with each other and neither realised it would lead to a long and important journey.


	14. Chapter 14

After the fight Rachel and Murtagh got on better. They could see things from the other point of view: Murtagh understood the Rachel valued everyone elses life higher than he own and she understood that Murtagh would protect anyone he cared for any price. She didn't like the fact he'd kill but she was glad he would protect her back and she vowed, in her own head, to protect his in every way she could.

Also since Rachel accidentally threw Murtagh away from her they could discuss it together. He showed her his magic a few moments afterwards; he could hardly believe he had done it but he told her without really knowing who she was but they seemed to understand each other.

However magic did not supply their food so they decided that they'd go into the nearest town and have a proper meal and buy some vegetables. Murtagh mentally reminded himself to ask anyone from the town inns or taverns if any travellers had been around. He reminded himself it might be someone he had met at the Varden. He wondered if he knew who Nasuada would send. Perhaps Eragon but it would be too dangerous for him. Maybe an elf like Arya, she could probably change her appearance at will. She is a member of the fairer race.

They entered the town on Murtaghs horse Tornac and he dismounted and helped her off, which was unusual for them because Rachel usually got off on her own but Murtagh being Murtagh didn't want to arouse suspicion because if anyone asked they were engaged and were riding to a northern part of the country to get married and they had to look the part.

Murtagh held her waist and she jumped down into his arms. She, being a little clumsy as she knew she was, lost her balance a little and fell into his and he steadied her. Of course when he steadied her they got even closer than before. They spent a second more than necessary holding onto each other on his shoulders and her waist. They moved apart without saying a word and also dropping eye contact.

"I'm going to the inn. Can you go and get fruit and vegetables in the market?" he asked.

She looked up at him a little defiantly, she wondered if he was getting her to do it because it was a woman's job in his opinion but she accepted her role and that doing it the other way would be a bit odd.

They walked their separate ways. She spent her day buying fruit and veg that they couldn't get on the road. It was a few hours before darkness would fall when Murtagh found her and pulled her away from the stalls looking at some handmade jewellery. Maybe he'd get it for her later.

They went back to the local inn ate a good hearty meal. The beer flowed freely in the tavern and the music and laughter was infectious. When they got out of the public house it was dark. Rachel was leaning on Murtagh because she was a little tired.

"I'll untie Tornac," he said as he leant her against the wall.

Then a few things happened at once: Murtagh turned his back to face away from her, there was a sound from behind them and then bandits pulled Rachel away whilst covering her mouth. He could still hear he muffled scream though and he turned around and drew out his sword. He ran where he could see where her boots had dug into the ground. He heard them talking to her around the third street.

"That all she's got?" he asked in a distinctly gruff voice of what appeared to be their leader. The man nodded as he held out the money Murtagh had given her for food and essentials. There was another man standing guard and another pinning her up against a wall. She certainly wasn't asleep now. She looked terrified.

The leader walked up to her and ran a bony finger down the left side of her face. He could she her stiffen under his touch.

"Well aren't you pretty?" he asked scarily smooth compared with his earlier performance. She shook her head in answer. She was bound but he could hear muffled whimpers coming from her scared, small form.

"Don't be so modest my dear," he said tormentingly as he leaned in. "I have plans for you."

He took his moment: Everyone's attention was focused on her. He knocked the guard out, then the other two. He fended the leader away and she ran to his side. The leader walked menacingly towards them taking out a mace but Murtagh took out his sword and killed him with one swing and without any further talk or fighting he walked back to Tornac and lifted Rachel onto the saddle and he did too and galloped back without a word being said between them.


	15. Chapter 15

Riding Tornac out of the village Murtagh was determined to get to the camp as soon as possible. He focused on Rachel's breathing to remind himself that he needed to stay with her and not got off to kill the rest of those men. He felt her small hands holding the other counterpart around his abdominal wall, holding onto him. He slowed Tornac to a slow pace when they got to where the trees got nearer to each other.

Stopping just by the camp circle he got off the horse, picketed it to the earth near some grass to eat and then gently, compared to earlier that day, helped her off the horse and onto the ground again. She kept her head down. He placed his hand to the side of her face to make her meet his gaze.

"I know you're disappointed in me but-" he began clippingly.

"You had to do it," she finished his sentence without really thinking about it.

"Well what else would you have had me do?" he asked knowing he trumped her this time.

Looking up at him she answered before he could add more questions. "I didn't say it was the wrong thing to do," she said quietly but still loud enough for him to hear. "They might stop now they've had someone kill them for what they've done to others. It might help someone else."

He was puzzled by her sometimes. "How can you think rationally at the moment? Or about someone else?"

He noticed the frightened look behind her calm façade. "I'm rational now in hope to stay rational later. I'm scared at the moment of…" Pausing she notified his attention to the fact she wrapped her arms around herself and he reached out to her to comfort her but refrained before she noticed.

"What are you afraid of?" Murtagh asked kindly.

She looked up with her scared deer like eyes. "I'm scared of falling asleep and of what I'll see when I dream." Now he reached out to her and held her in his arms. Responding to his touch Rachel loosened her stiff composure and held onto him finally feeling safe and able to breathe deeply. He felt an odd stirring in his chest but he brushed it away as a protectiveness of his friend.

"Murtagh…" she mumbled into his chest. He felt it in his chest more than heard it.

"Yes?"

"Thank you," she said.  
Then he did something without thinking. He kissed the top of her head. She looked up into his astonished eyes then looked down at his lips. If truth be told she had once or twice looked at his lips like the way she was looking at them now but had always made herself stop her thoughts somehow. She looked at them and felt something tighten in her stomach. She bit her lip and looked into his eyes. Eyes that seemed to respond with the same feeling. Leaning in she brushed her lips against his feeling a spark somewhere and he kissed her back. His hands moved with hers to each other: his to the back of her head with one twining his fingers in her hair and the other trailing down her side to her waist; and hers moved with one resting her hand resting against his cheek and one against his chest.

After a few minuets their lips separated and something clicked into place as if they were supposed to feel this way for each other. Murtagh looked at her and realised that, even though he occasionally had looked at women of the court in their finery, she was the most beautiful girl he had ever met. She had some kind of ethereal quality to her: her dark wavy hair catching the moonbeams light and giving her a tiara or halo and her blue eyes shining like they were made of stars which made her seem so desirable. He wondered at how he hadn't seen it before.

"Murtagh?" she asked bringing him to the present. "What did that mean? We should really talk about this-" He out a finger against her swollen lips.

"We'll talk in the morning," he answered concentrating on his breathing. He whispered instructions in her ear for her to go to sleep and he watched over the camp for the night with a calm peacefulness that now exuded him.


	16. Chapter 16

Murtagh heard a stirring behind him, as he looked out of the clearing. He looked back behind him to see her twisting and turning on the ground.

Kneeling down next to her, he held her face in his hands and smoothed the stands of hair off of her face. She quietened down a little but was still a little fidgety. He moved his mouth to her ear and whispered, "Rachel, I'm here. Don't worry; you're safe." She opened blurry eyes and looked up at him.

"Murtagh," she breathed out.

Murtagh had never really been religious but when he heard her speak his name it was like he could hear angels or saints.

"I can't sleep," she said drowsily.

"Why?"

"I can't think of anything calming to get me to sleep that's still interesting enough to keep me asleep," she replied gaining a wider range to be able to construct longer sentences.

"Can I help at all?" he asked stroking her hair away from her face.

"That helps," she replied, whilst yawning and sinking into his touch.

He tugged her towards him and she moved willingly. Holding her close, he stroked her hair and she hugged his chest. As they were dropping of he pulled a blanket up over their torsos that she had kicked off earlier. They fell peacefully asleep.

Waking up, she felt rather than just heard someone breathing. Gaining the energy to move her head she looked up and saw Murtagh's face. She smiled. Easing out of his grip, she got up and replaced his calloused yet tender hands underneath his head to sleep on. She touched the strands of hair that dipped just over his eyes. Damn he looks good, she thought before she pulled away.

She grabbed her bag and brought it to the river. Reaching into the opened satchel she searched for the flannel she had brought to wash her face only to find that she had Murtagh's bag instead.

She almost put it back but she saw a scroll and her curiosity urged her to read it. She could easily reseal the wax with no one knowing the better. Something told her, despite the little nagging feeling in her gut, that she needed to read the letter.

She opened the black dragon emblazoned seal and opened it up. Within seconds her heart raced and stopped instantaneously. She muttered a spell so that he couldn't hear; she couldn't even think of his name at the moment. She grabbed her bag and took out four pieces of paper.

Laying the first three next to Murtagh's other scrolls and magically copied the contents onto hers. Putting back the magically copied papers in her bag and the magically resealed three into Murtagh's bag she then took out a quill out of Murtagh's and the small bottle of ink and wrote him a note before she took away the sound barrier between them, put the bag back where it was and apparated away.

After hearing a 'pop' Murtagh stirred and reached for Rachel but opened his eyes half-heartedly to see that she wasn't there. He got up to find that she wasn't anywhere near him.

He heard something crunch beneath his feet and looked down.

He picked up the trodden on piece of paper and opened it up apprehensively.

He read the message and burned it to his memory before he tossed the words into the fire.

I'm sorry Murtagh.

Good luck and Goodbye,

Love,

Rx


	17. Chapter 17

A 'pop' sounded on the outside of the Varden tents on the edge of their camp. The guards were shocked but allowed the girl in because of the Varden seal on an opened letter.

Taking her into the camp she said one thing: "I need to talk to Eragon," which she repeated a lot to herself a lot after the first time that she said it to the guards.

They half carried her there after she stumbled on her way to the central tent. Nasuada was pacing the tent and stopped when they informed her that the girl was back. The leader's interest peaked higher as she was told that the girl was obviously shaken. She decided to comply with the jittery girl's request for Eragon to be there; she hoped that he could calm the girl.

Eragon came quickly with the messenger that had been sent to him and burst through the tent.

"Eragon," said Nasuada hurriedly as she pointed over to the distressed girl. He moved to kneel next to her as she curled up in the chair.

"Rachel what is it?" asked Eragon, gently.

She raised her head and he saw her dangerously brimming eyes pooled over and she began to cry. He instinctively wrapped his arms around her to comfort her and rocked her a little to soothe her cries.

"Eragon," she croaked as she choked back the tears.

"Yes," he replied as she lifted her head.

"When you examine my thoughts please don't judge me too harshly," she replied. "Please," she pleaded when he didn't immediately answer.

"Of course," he replied as his eyes locked with the girl's.

She relaxed then slumped back into the chair, unconscious.

He watched as the girl slept in her bead; Eragon had already examined her thoughts. Berating himself for not telling her everything about his story of getting to the Varden he found himself wondering if that would have been better for her. Who would ever know?

Nasuada had been told but had been surprisingly alright with the revelation. He was glad because the girl was blameless and didn't endanger the rebels at all. Actually she had copied the scrolls she'd found and helped the Varden more.

He saw a flicker of her eyelids and put a hand on her shoulder to shake and raise her from her slumber.

She muttered and curled further into the blankets and cot.

"Rachel wake up," he said evenly.

"Do I have to?" she asked as she opened her eyes a little more.

"It'd be better if you do," he answered her, smiling at her resistance.

She turned over onto her back and pushed herself up in the bed but stayed under the covers. She looked at him doubtfully and said, "You've looked haven't you."

"Yes."

"That's it. 'Yes'. I've been worry about your response from the moment I saw that letter and 'Yes' is all you're going to say," she questioned a little peevishly.

"Well what would you like me to elaborate on?" asked Eragon smiling at her annoyance a little.

"Well: One, why am I not being hung and having my guts made for garters?; Two, why are you so calm about what happened?; and three, why do you still act as though you trust me?" she asked.

"Can I answer in a different order?" asked Eragon. She nodded in response. "You're not being hanged because you didn't do anything wrong- however I wouldn't mention what happened to anyone else who doesn't already know in the Varden. I still trust you because you haven't intentionally tried to hurt our cause and haven't done anything to make me distrust you."

He paused and let her take it in. "Alright but why are you so calm about what happened?"

"You mean that you were with Murtagh for the last few weeks," he sighed and began to explain. "Well first of all Murtagh used to be a part of the resistance for a while but he was captured and forced to do Galbatorix's will when his dragon Thorn hatched for him," he said steadily.

"He's a rider. Like you," she said slowly as her memories flooded back and realised that it was how he had his magic.

"He's also the son of Morzan the first and last of Galbatorix's Foresworn Riders. Everyone has hated him since birth," he explained seeing the girl's sorrow deepen for his old friend. "He's my half-brother."

She looked puzzled and then looked up at him when she asked, "How does that make you feel calm about what happened?"

"It's nice to know he's alright and that maybe we can get him back to our side at some point. You could be a great help to us. Will you stay with the Varden?"

"Yes," she said without hesitation.


	18. Chapter 18

The door to the impressive great hall in Urû'baen and once again Murtagh walked into the hall with his head hung. Once again he was going to be punished. He already knew it. He always was going to be punished.

Rachel followed Eragon into the Varden central tent. Nasauda turned and nodded at them as they entered. They took their seats around the table with one egg laid in the middle of the ornate decorated centre.

The King stood up near the throne turned when the doors had closed. Murtagh was the only other human in the room; beneath the steps up to the throne.

"So Murtagh: You have been unsuccessful," said the dark king making the anticipation build for the unwilling servant, "Again."

Murtagh's teeth set on edge but kept himself silent.

"You didn't find the eggs after all the time that you had searched," Galbatorix continued. "Let us examine your memories."

Murtagh soundlessly gulped in fear of the memories the king would see. Damn why did he have to keep her safe or her company at all. Why did he need to be kind to strangers sometimes to make him feel better?

Suddenly his memories where whizzing by his face; painfully going from the start of the mission to meeting Rachel, from teaching her to the night in the town and from the ride back to the morning after. Then he heard Galbatorix roar in fury.

Rachel listened to Nasuada explain what had happened last week to the council and other important members of the rebel force. Nasduada had been very sympathetic to her situation and consoled her on what had happened. She had also been friends with Murtagh; Rachel had looked at Eragon and thanked him later for not mentioning how much his half-brother had meant.

Nasuada told the council about the mission and how Jömundur had gotten a rider's sword from somewhere and come back to the Varden a few days before Rachel had. One egg of the colour green that had been taken has already hatched for Arya the elf courier and the other egg that was left, this one being of the white variety that Eragon the first rider's dragon was, had not hatched and was in the centre of the table.

"How could you do this? You decided to waste your time to find the eggs and instead hook up with some girl- SOME SLUT!-"

"She's not a slut!" he shouted back to his master as his anger started to boil. Suddenly it didn't matter.

"Oh really Murtagh she's not, is she," answered Galbatorix with his voice dangerously controlled. "Well then we'll have to find her to attest that claim-"

"NO!" he roared and forced himself away from the king and to get out. The king dragged him back by magic and he clanged against the stone steps. A sickening crack was heard around his head.

Crack! The council members of the Varden looked at the centre of the table. Crack! Now they could see the break lines within the shell of the egg. Crack! And the pieces scattered around the table and a small webbed and bony wing emerged. Crack! And feet appeared out of the egg and scrambled out of its old home. The dragon hatchling looked around and stared at its audience it walked around in a circle and got a bit dizzy. Then it moved out of the centre of the table towards Eragon. He moved his face down to meet the small dragons.

"Where's your rider then?" he asked quietly. The dragon's pure white eyes connected with his then looked to Eragon's right. Right into Rachel's eyes. The dragon stumbled towards her and she got on her knees.

"Wow there," she muttered, giggling a little. She tentatively reached her left hand towards the dragon hatchling and the small creature stretched his head to reach her. Icy energy surged up her arm and she gasped silently as it burned and spread instantly to every other part of her body.

Murtagh felt a familiar icy energy burn his body like when he had bonded to Thorn. He flitted out of unconsciousness and then back out of consciousness. He saw her face again and he felt peaceful somehow even though she had abandoned him. He fell asleep and closed of his mind like he hadn't been able to do in months and dreamed of a blue, green, red and white dragon flying in the sky together with their riders.

Rachel looked at her hand and saw a misshaped oval shape forming on her palm. She saw his face as he opened his eyes. His grey eyes stared at hers and stood out through his dark brown hair and crimson blood pooling a little around his head like a bloody halo. His eyes closed and he slept with dried and drying blood matted and matting in his locks.

She promised herself that she would help him. She then looked at the dragon- her dragon- and smiled as she scooped it into her arms to cradle it. She looked to Eragon and he smiled then looked into her eyes. He nodded. He would be there with her. He would help. They would win the war and they would help Murtagh. They had to.


End file.
