For Alagaesia: 52. Making amends

She was in a forest of ice. There were trees of ice all around her and there was a floor of ice on which she was lying. But it wasn’t cold as she had expected it be. Rather, the warmth she felt was so comforting that she wanted to close her eyes again and go to sleep. Except certain questions needed to be answered and foremost of them: where was she?

She thought hard. And then it struck her in an instant. She was taken… captured… kidnapped. But this place hardly looked like a prison. It was literally a forest.

Nasuada whipped her head so that she could see her captor. All she could remember was a ruby red surface, when she thought of her captors. And now again she was met with a red wall. But this time she could see that it wasn’t just a wall of red; it was the belly of a ruby red dragon. Thorn. Repulsed, Nasuada tried to move away from the dragon.

‘Ouch. That hurts.’, an voice that was alien and strong echoed in her mind.

Only then did she notice the source of her warmth. She had not been lying on snow. She had been lying on one of Thorn’s wings. His wing had provided her with warmth.

Not wanting any sort of comfort from her captors, she moved away from his wing, this time taking care not to step hard on it. When she was out of Thorn’s wing, Nasuada tried to back away from the area. But ten feet into her walk, she was bumped into something that was as hard as stone. To the naked eye it was just air.

‘Blast this magic!!’, she cursed.

“Walls don’t have to be made of stone.”, said a voice that had years ago sounded cordial and welcome. But now, it was just cold and indifferent.

“As if I haven’t seen these things already.”, Nasuada shot back.

“Believe me, there is a whole lot more to magic than you have seen and heard.”, Murtagh’s voice said.

“And what does a traitor know about what I have heard of magic?” Nasuada wasn’t about to let Murtagh bully her.

“I am. No. Traitor.”, Murtagh said articulating the words, obviously angry at her remark. He walked out of his hiding behind Thorn and stood before her.

He was in no way the Murtagh whom she had met, sympathised and befriended in Tronjheim. He looked a lot leaner and even taller. His clothing was obviously different: he wore expensive gadgets as opposed to when he came to Farthen Dur during which he had worn a ragged tunic and rough leggings. The shining red blade Zar'roc was belted at his hips, covered by (an oddly) worn-out sheath as opposed to the rough hand and a half sword he carried in Tronjheim. But for all his build-up Nasuada found him repulsive, whereas she had found him kind and understanding when they had first met at Tronjheim. The reason: Murtagh's face. Murtagh's face had lost what little enthusiasm it had when he was imprisoned in Tronjheim. It was haughty, cold and unwelcome. His eyes; His eyes were dead pools. Deep dead blue pools.

“If killing Hrothgar and capturing Eragon are not traitorous, then you aren't a traitor.”, Nasuada answered with new hatred for Murtagh rising in her mind. She had tried to reason with his acts earlier by considering him a captive of fate; but now she saw with her own eyes for what he was: a cold and uncaring person who would find no evil act repulsive.

“I was ordered to capture Eragon.”, Murtagh said as if stating some well-known fact.

“And Hrothgar? Did Galbatorix” - she spat out the name of the evil king pouring in all her hatred for the man in her word - “order you to kill him too?”

Murtagh remained silent.

“What about the tens and thousands of soldiers you killed. Did Galbatorix order you to do that too? And what about Eragon's teachers?”

“I didn't kill the old rider!!”, Murtagh exclaimed. And then he turned away from her and muttered, “I wish he had killed me.”

Nasuada pretended not to hear him. Empathy could not be afforded in her situation. She could relate those words - “Wish he had killed me” - to the old Murtagh. But she willed herself not to do so. If she did then she would have to compromise on a lot of things as Murtagh had to when she met him in Tronjheim’s prison.

“So, why haven’t you taken me to Uru’baen yet. I am sure your king must be dying to see me.”, she ridiculed Murtagh. Provoking him to do something rash was the only option she had left.

But Murtagh did not seem to care about her words. He stared at her blankly.

‘You speak boldly, leader-of-rebellion.’, Thorn said admiration abound in his words.

Nasuada didn’t know how to react to him. The only other dragon she had contact with was Saphira who was so much different from Thorn that she had no idea how Thorn would react to her words. So she decided to ignore him.

Thron didn’t seem to be hurt. That made Nasuada uncomfortable. From what she had seen of Saphira, she had deduced that dragons were proud beings who didn’t take being ignored lightly. The stories Ajihad had told her were testimony to that point too.

“He has gone through worse.”, Murtagh answered her unasked question. How he read her mind, she would never know. ‘Maybe he watched me closely enough to decode my facial changes.’, she thought.

Thorn, meanwhile craned his neck down and came face-to-face with her. Even though terrified, Nasuada defiantly stood her ground. ‘I like her.’, he announced. Nasuada felt kind of stupid, like a kid being examined by her teacher.

Murtagh shrugged. It was an action that said ‘I told you so.’

‘But why does everybody hate me? Your brother hates me, the king hates me and now Nasuada too hates me.’, Thorn said.

Nasuada was taken by surprise at those words. It wasn’t just those words – clearly those of a child who needed care – but the people they were addressed to. She was part of the audience. She knew thoroughly that Thorn could have said that to Murtagh privately. Why the red dragon included her in the audience, she had no idea.

Besides, the rough and strong male voice of Thorn could hardly hide the little child in him. The innocent question of Thorn raised far more inquisitive questions in Nasuada’s mind. She thought back to what Eragon had spoken about Thorn’s state. Eragon had deeply regretted the fact that Thorn, a dragon, had to be born a slave to Galbatorix. She hadn’t felt anything more than sympathy for the red dragon at that time. But now she empathised with him. The dragon’s whole demeanour suggested that he wanted to run away and hide from the world.

A drop of tear – out of her control – fell on her cheek and rolled down its length.

“She wasn’t as bad, the last time I met her.”, Murtagh said.

Nasuada glared at him. How dare he?

Murtagh though didn’t seem to notice her. Worse yet he seemed to ignore her. “Back then she could understand me. She knew where I came from and she spoke to her father for me. She was the first. Even Eragon didn’t do so.”, Murtagh continued unfazed.

“And how have you repaid me?”, Nasuada challenged Murtagh. He was getting to her nerves. She needed some defence and so took up Murtagh’s allegiance with Galbatorix. “By joining my enemy.”

Thorn growled. Nasuada couldn’t care less. Murtagh turned his attention from Thorn to her. He looked straight into her eyes. And then said calmly, “By not killing you.”

Nasuada stood motionless. What did he just say?

“By defying Galbatorix’s second most binding command.”, Murtagh said, this time speaking through clenched teeth.

So Galbatorix had ordered her death. It was hardly surprising for the black king had tried to do that time and time again. But commanding Murtagh to do that and that too as his second most binding objective – for she was pretty sure what the most binding order was – was a real eye opener. She now knew how Galbatorix weighed the rest of the Varden(Excepting Eragon). And it pleased her. They had caused the dark king trouble.

“You defy him by taking me to Uru’baen? I bet he will be happier to have me alive than dead.”, Nasuada answered. She didn’t know where from the cruel thought came. But it had occurred to her and she had uttered the words.

“Does this look like Uru’baen to you?”, Murtagh asked, going back to being calm. He didn't show any sign of having heard what she said. The old Murtagh would have lost his temper. 'But then', she thought, 'why should he care about what I say? What do I even mean to him?' 

Finding that thought oddly uncomfortable, she looked around. The white surroundings ridiculed her, shining brightly in the sun. She couldn't give much thought to where she was, since she was occupied with Murtagh and his dragon. Murtagh hadn't taken her to Uru'baen.  That much was clear. But then why were they having this ridiculous conversation of which she could make neither head nor tail. It was just pointless to try provoking somebody as cold as Murtagh.

The only thing she found interesting in the whole area was Thorn. He strode around the land, looking more like a human deep-in-thought than a dragon. That thought brought a hearty smile to her face.

“Tell me where Eragon is?”, Murtagh demanded, breaking the silence with his furious voice.

“What make you think that I will divulge the information?”, Nasuada asked, finally relieved to have the normal order restored. The pointless talk had left her confused.

“Don't traverse the wrong way, Nasuada. I am tired of....”, Murtagh stopped his sentence midway, abruptly.

“Tired of torturing people?”, Nasuada offered. Hurting Murtagh, it seemed, came superfluously to her.

This time Murtagh seemed actually hurt, when she was expecting him to remain his cold-self. He stared hard at her for sometime and then shifted his stare to the ground. “Please tell me, Nasuada.”, he said. Though his voice was anything but pleading, the use of the word 'please' was a real surprise.

“I have to retrieve that egg. I have to. And I have to capture Eragon.”, he said, his voice trembling in a high pitch. “Else Thorn...”, he said and left his sentence unfinished. If there was something that could be presented as an example of misery, then those two words would qualify beating anything and everything that ever happened in Alagaesia.

Nasuada thought she had figured Murtagh out. His earlier self was still present, but had converged upon Thorn. A mix of sympathy and empathy for Murtagh's state began to take shape in her mind, only to be pushed away in an instant by Murtagh himself, or rather his action. He attacked her mind with his full force. Only her training with Ajihad on protecting her mind helped her withstand Murtagh's attack..

A hundred emotions fought for control over her mind. She had just sympathised with his condition. The Monster. He was using her own mind and feelings against her, attacking her when she felt something soft for him. How crooked had he become. But she suppressed each one of her emotions with the sheer will of her mind. Even a little distraction and she would be compromised and her secrets with it.

It was incredibly hard. She had trained with masters in the art like her father. But training was nothing near the actual act. She couldn't breathe for fear of being distracted. Her head spun. But she kept her defences strong, repeatedly humming the lyrics her father had taught her when she was young. She was growing tired. She couldn't continue anymore. The pain was excruciating. All she wanted was release from the misery. But NO. She couldn't afford to lose the battle. Murtagh should not get to know her secrets. Her head lolled to the side. She won’t care. She won’t give Murtagh anything even if she were to die out of exhaustion.

‘Stop it, Murtagh!!!’, Thorn’s wild mental scream was audible even to her, crossing the layers of protection she had erected around her mind. Murtagh seemed as much surprised as her. The intense pressure in her head ceased abruptly and Nasuada felt as if she had travelled from hell to heaven in a second.

‘Don’t do this in my name.’, Thorn said. ‘This thing you do to avoid Galbatorix’s punishment is more cruel than his punishment.’ There was an air of finality to Thorn’s voice. Nasuada had to remind herself to not go to sleep. Sleep welcomed her with open hands, but she refused to take those hands. Thorn was worth the effort, she thought.

‘Galbatorix punishes us, his slaves. Frankly, he has the authority to do so. But what are we doing? We are trying to hurt those we consider family and friends to escape that punishment.’, Thorn said.

Nasuada was awestruck. Dragons really were the wisest of beings.

‘We can stand the punishment, Murtagh. It is the cost we have to pay for our weakness. For breaking to Galbatorix. But what will our crimes amount to? How will we justify them?’, Thorn continued. Murtagh stood silent and head-down like a child being admonished by its parent for its wrongs.

“Thorn…”, Mourtagh started. He was on the verge of breaking down, Nasuada could say. “But Galbatorix… he… he will…”

‘What? Will he kill me?’, Thorn asked emphatically. ‘No, he won’t. Because he can’t. The coward that he is. He needs me and you to fight for him, Murtagh. It is us, that he depends on. Can’t you see? He never asked you to torture Nasuada to find Eragon. But you did. See?’, Thorn said.

Nasuada wept. Why would such a creature be on the wrong of the war? Why was God so cruel? She couldn’t understand. What was the point of God if he left such people to suffer eternally?

“But…. Thorn…. I can’t see you being hurt. I can’t do that.”, Murtagh choked out. Tears rolled down his cheeks. And he didn’t care to hide them. He was distraught. His love and care for Thorn amazed Nasuada. As she had already decided, the old Murtagh had just converged in full upon Thorn, leaving a cold shell of his true self to the remainder of the world.

‘Have you forgotten all that your brother, Eragon, went through under Galbatorix? Did he show any of that animosity towards you? He was  harsh, yes, but he accepted you when you promised to try to change. He saved you from death. But are you – are we – trying to change. No. We are still trying to escape from Galbatorix’s punishments while we should be trying to escape from Galbatorix himself.’

Murtagh stood as if frozen in all the snow falling around them. He cleared his throat. Then in a surprisingly clear and determined voice, he asked, “What do you want me to do?”

‘Leave her. And return to Uru’baen, empty-handed.’, Thorn said, equally, if not more, determined and confident.

Murtagh was silent. Nasuada’s heart was racing. She waited for Murtagh’s decision, fighting hard against the fatigue that was set to consume her. Murtagh and Thorn stared at each other, unblinking, unmoving for a long long time that Nasuada felt as if time itself had frozen still.

Then Murtagh moved. He shuffled his legs and combed his long black hair with his hands. And then he moved forward to touch Thorn’s face. He rubbed Thorn’s face affectionately and then announced, “So be it.”

Nasuada felt overwhelmingly happy. But happiness wasn’t the emotion that suited her state. She had to be relieved. But she was happy. She didn’t know why – but that feeling of happiness, oddly included Thorn and Murtagh.

Thorn lowered his head. ‘Thank you, Murtagh.’, he said, ‘Our days of slavery are now counted.’

Then Thorn turned his attention to Nasuada. She had fallen to the ground, flat on her back unable to stand the rising feeling of vertigo.He walked upto her and leaning, placed his snout on her brow in the manner of Saphira and said, ‘You are brave and strong, leader-of-the-rebellion. May the wind assist you in your quest.’ A flow of images that roughly looked like a path of about four-five leagues and that led to Dras-Leona came from Thorn into her mind and with it a huge amount of energy.

She felt revived when Thorn withdrew from her, but knew it was more. She had reborn in these last few minutes. In her mind, Thorn was the greatest figure of opposition against Galbatorix.

Murtagh’s look as he mounted Thorn gave her new hope. But what that hope pertained to, she had not even the slightest inkling. But his expression of determination etched itself a spot in her mind and gave her inspiration in her fight against Galbatorix.

“Be safe.”, she said, just when Thorn took off. She didn’t know if any of the two – dragon and rider – heard her, but she hoped they had. She gazed at the glorious red dragon as he disappeared on the horizon. Then she turned on her step and started walking in the way Thorn had showed her.

Author’s Note:

Thorn played a role in my story!!! Thorn is the most underdeveloped major character of the original Inheritance cycle and hence I had not given him any part in the original plot. But now, with the tweak I gave to the plot-line, he has a substantial role. Hope you like it. Also what do you feel about Murtagh and Thorn’s interaction?