Categories > Books > Eragon > Cling to your lonesome folly
Cling to your lonesome folly
1 reviewEragon attempts a spell more then a little bit too powerful for him and forces both he and Thorn into a deep slumber. Eragon/Murtagh.
-1Boring
A/N: Hi, all. I'd just like you to know: I decided it was time for there to be more Eragon/Murtagh fics. Y'know, filled with violence, gore, sex, all that good stuff. I don't own Inheritance, nor do I own the song-- The song is 'A Stray Child' from the .Hack OST. It's a good, good song. But without further ado, the first part of the first chapter. It's not done yet, but I couldn't wait to put it up.
---
If you are lost in your way
deep in an awesome story
don't be in doubt and stray
cling to your lonesome folly.
"Eragon!" The rider cried, clutching his /gedwey ignasia/-- "What did you do?" Crimson leaked from his palm, pooling around his fingered where he pressed down.
"I-- I don't know," came the startled reply, his younger brother's voice shaking. "I--" Murtagh could tell he was tired, exhausted, near to the point of losing consciousness-- "I don't know what I did." Behind him, Saphria snorted and nudged him gently with her nose-- they were conversing, but it didn't look like the conversation would last much longer.
Eragon's words echoed in his ears-- Ethgri slytha/. Invoke sleep. It had been directed at Thorn-- and he lay on the ground, now, eyes half lidded and massive wings outspread and laying haphazardly on the ground. /Thorn? Thorn, say something! Speak to me.
The scaled giant didn't reply. It was all too much like groping around in the dark when there wasn't anything there to begin with. Thorn!
And it was then that the younger of the two riders collapsed, Saphria letting out a long noise, arching her neck back and letting out a long burst of flame, lowering her head once more and gazing eye to eye with the older of the two brothers. And there they made a silent promise, a truce based on temporary circumstances only.
He needed to tend to Thorn, Saphria to Eragon. They'd destroy each other if they attacked now-- it would be a stupid thing to do, at best. At worst, a psychotic death wish.
But it wasn't the time to worry about Saphria at the moment. Thorn... A slender hand wrapped around a spike, the other ran across the red scales hesitantly. Not a mark on him, but he was still irresponsive, eyes unmoving. For a second, he worried if his dragon...
But no, it couldn't be that, it couldn't have happened. There was still warmth radiating from the dragon, there were no signs of death, only a paranoid worry. And that worry grew to encompass Eragon-- damn his brother. He cared about Eragon, but Thorn... his dragon, his dragon...
But was Eragon okay? His younger brother...
He turned from Thorn, hands reaching up, resting against Thorn's eyelids before bringing them down. Thorn would be fine, but Eragon... he'd used magic without knowing what it would do, without-- without having any idea of the consciences...
"Saphria," he muttered quietly, "let me see Eragon."
The dragon looked up, snarling at Murtagh-- and the message was clear, even without words: No.
The older look distressed for a second-- but lowered his sword and bow, resting them gently on the ground before removing his quiver-- "Please, Saphria."
And for a second, the two stood-- and for the second time that day, they reached a silent agreement. Eragon could need help, Murtagh could offer that help-- and find out exactly what shape his brother was in.
---
If you are lost in your way
deep in an awesome story
don't be in doubt and stray
cling to your lonesome folly.
"Eragon!" The rider cried, clutching his /gedwey ignasia/-- "What did you do?" Crimson leaked from his palm, pooling around his fingered where he pressed down.
"I-- I don't know," came the startled reply, his younger brother's voice shaking. "I--" Murtagh could tell he was tired, exhausted, near to the point of losing consciousness-- "I don't know what I did." Behind him, Saphria snorted and nudged him gently with her nose-- they were conversing, but it didn't look like the conversation would last much longer.
Eragon's words echoed in his ears-- Ethgri slytha/. Invoke sleep. It had been directed at Thorn-- and he lay on the ground, now, eyes half lidded and massive wings outspread and laying haphazardly on the ground. /Thorn? Thorn, say something! Speak to me.
The scaled giant didn't reply. It was all too much like groping around in the dark when there wasn't anything there to begin with. Thorn!
And it was then that the younger of the two riders collapsed, Saphria letting out a long noise, arching her neck back and letting out a long burst of flame, lowering her head once more and gazing eye to eye with the older of the two brothers. And there they made a silent promise, a truce based on temporary circumstances only.
He needed to tend to Thorn, Saphria to Eragon. They'd destroy each other if they attacked now-- it would be a stupid thing to do, at best. At worst, a psychotic death wish.
But it wasn't the time to worry about Saphria at the moment. Thorn... A slender hand wrapped around a spike, the other ran across the red scales hesitantly. Not a mark on him, but he was still irresponsive, eyes unmoving. For a second, he worried if his dragon...
But no, it couldn't be that, it couldn't have happened. There was still warmth radiating from the dragon, there were no signs of death, only a paranoid worry. And that worry grew to encompass Eragon-- damn his brother. He cared about Eragon, but Thorn... his dragon, his dragon...
But was Eragon okay? His younger brother...
He turned from Thorn, hands reaching up, resting against Thorn's eyelids before bringing them down. Thorn would be fine, but Eragon... he'd used magic without knowing what it would do, without-- without having any idea of the consciences...
"Saphria," he muttered quietly, "let me see Eragon."
The dragon looked up, snarling at Murtagh-- and the message was clear, even without words: No.
The older look distressed for a second-- but lowered his sword and bow, resting them gently on the ground before removing his quiver-- "Please, Saphria."
And for a second, the two stood-- and for the second time that day, they reached a silent agreement. Eragon could need help, Murtagh could offer that help-- and find out exactly what shape his brother was in.
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