Reversed Life (Eragon fanfic)

Chapter 10

Hello again everyone! Chapter ten is up! I'm going to keep this note short so you can all get onto reading! I do not own Eragon. Happy reading and reviewing everyone! R&R!

The healing chambers within Farthen Dûr were bustling with activity. Eragon was pushed from side to side as he assisted his servants in healing the injured soldiers. He had slept only a few hours since the battle of Farthen Dûr. His body ached with the overuse of magic and the lack of rest and food. Desdemona had nearly gone mad when she saw his state, offering to give him her portion of food. He had adamantly refused.

It was during one of his breaks to eat a meager loaf of bread that a messenger ran up to him. Eragon turned to glance at the man, to see him freeze in fear. I must look frightening, Eragon thought. The purple bags under his eyes could not be doing him good, as he had not slept properly for two days. Desdemona turned to the man with a haughty gaze. "What is it?"

"Angela requests the presence of Eragon Shadeslayer," he stammered, "as the dragon Rider Murtagh has awakened."

He nodded with a sigh, finishing the bread. He stood, to his servants' dismay. "But my lord, you need to rest!" exclaimed Finny. Bard fervently nodded in agreement.

"I'll be fine." He handed his helm to Desdemona. "Hold onto it for me, Desdemona. I don't feel like carrying it around." She nodded with worried eyes. He hoped that this would be a simple event. With his lack of sleep, his temperament was dangerously higher than usual.

As he walked down the hallways and tunnels, he tried to stifle a yawn. Eragon did not even realize when he had arrived at Murtagh's room until he had stared for a great deal of time at the wooden maple door. With a tired sigh, he pushed it open. Stepping into the room, he blinked to adjust his eyes to the bright candlelight.

Five people were arranged around Murtagh; three were sitting on the bed, Arya and Rosalie were standing. Angela was knitting comfortably, with what seemed like dried bones, while his mother and Brom spoke to Murtagh, who was propped up on his pillow in bed. They all turned to stare at him once he entered the small room. A look of horror immediately formed on Rosalie's face as she took in the sight of him. "My lord!" she exclaimed, her hands flying to her mouth. "Have you gotten any rest of late?"

"I will be fine." He answered. It did not go unnoticed by him that Arya had a bandage wrapped around her arm. She must have been cut while helping the Varden find the Urgals in the tunnels. He turned his gaze to Angela. "You called for me?"

"I just thought you might like to hear that your brother lives," the witch said, flashing him a smile. "I've heard you've been quite busy, saving lives and healing wounds."

He sighed, feeling his temper flare. If she called him here just for that . . . "Eragon, dear, why don't you go and lie down for a few hours, I'm sure Desdemona and the others can handle the rest from now on," his mother said, rising to her feet to come over and study his tired features. He could see Brom right over her head, staring at him in concern, and it made his gut twist. He did not want to be here, taking part in a tender family meeting.

"Then I'll go now." He turned to leave, but another voice called for him. He felt his body tense and become as rigid as a brick, as he slowly rotated to stare at the young man on the bed, their eyes meeting. "Yes?"

"I wanted to thank you," Murtagh said, sitting straighter on his bed, "for saving me from Durza."

There was a moments silence as everyone glanced at the pair, as if waiting for something tragic to happen. He did not relax, but did not feel the need to ignore such a statement. Finally, he said, "Another debt you owe me."

His mother seemed to burst with happiness as she embraced him, murmuring about how sweet he was. Was that even sweet? He thought as she pulled away after affectionately kissing his cheek. Brom looked as relieved as his half-brother. His family was beyond the need of help. A mother who loved a man who had killed the father of her eldest son, her youngest son who hated her lover, his father, for abandoning him and resented his older brother just for living a simple yet happy life, and the half-brother and lover who had but recently learned of the youngest son's existence. How complicated could a family become?