He awoke with a start, attempting to turn over from where he had been placed on his stomach, but aborted the movement as a streak of pain tore through his body. His memory came back in a rush. The burning irons, the metal tipped whips, blows punctuated by questions. Ignoring the pain coursing through him he rolled to his side and then carefully levered himself up. His grunt of pain turned to and cry of surprise as he saw a dark-skinned woman, about his age in a chair near him. His head was swirling with dizziness and nausea and he stared at her blankly for a minute.

"Lay back, you're still healing." Her voice was quiet and sombre but had a rich quality and a tone that indicated she expected to be obeyed.

He struggled to hold himself up with his arms but his will slackened as a surge of pain washed through his body making him feel faint. His stomach churned and a bitter taste coated his tongue. He barely had time to lean forward towards a bucket near the side of the bed before he heaved. He attempted to straighten up seconds later after the sickness receded, but his arms trembled violently with the effort and before he could pitch forward a quick arm was guiding him back down and on to his side thereby sparing his stripped back.

"Thank you." He murmured. The woman didn't speak; Murtagh noted how she withdrew her hands away from him.

He glanced around where he was being held and was surprised to find himself in a relatively nice chamber if what was so obviously a jail cell could be called nice. There was a fireplace in one corner, the cot he was lying on had a thick blanket and a small wooden table with two chairs was I the corner.

He glanced back at the woman sitting across from him and surveyed her features. She seemed familiar but he was sure they had never met. Before he could get the chance to consider the quandary, she spoke.

"My name is Nasuada and you are Murtagh Morzan's son."

Murtagh's eyes grew cautious at her tone and he shifted uneasily under her gaze. "Yes, I am." He forced the words out roughly, past his sore throat.

She was silent for a moment, and in that time Murtagh's initial anger grew. Silently he cursed Eragon, he had told the dragon rider that this was how he would be treated if he came to the Varden. He should have left, never mind that the other boy would likely have died at the hands of the Kull, in his foolish attempt to rescue the elf. It wasn't his concern; other people had never been his concern. Not since Tornac. Everybody that had ever known him had looked at him with horror and disdain after they found out who his father was. Even his supposed friend Eragon, he couldn't forget the look on the other boy's face when he had told him the truth or the way he had let his hand slip unconsciously to is sword.

"What is this? Decided to take a break from torturing me and they've had you come to see if I'm ready to tell the secret plot I was sent here by the King to enact?" Murtagh sat up again even though it was costing all his strength. "Or are you supposed to be the gentle Kind woman who will ensure the hardened criminal like me to break with your sympathies?"

"Neither, it wasn't my decision to have you tortured or sanctioned by my father, and I've come for an entirely different matter, a task which I would rather have done almost anything than do." Nasuada couldn't help letting the anger flash in her eyes.

Murtagh's curiosity was piqued but rather than question her last statement he seized on the first one a vague suspicion forming in his mind. "Is your father Ajihad?"

"Yes, he is. Ajihad, leader of the Varden and it is by his word and his word only that I came to talk to you."

"I have nothing to speak about. As I have told your torturers, I neither work for the empire nor the king and I will not submit to letting my mind be examined. You may kill me or do whatever you may, but I will die with the last sanctuary I have left intact."

Against her will Nasuada was impressed but she was careful not to show it. "Those men, were not sanctioned by my father, indeed when he found out what was being done, he sent me to stop it."

"Then on whose orders were—"

"The affairs of the Varden are not your business." Nasuada said sharply. "However, my father and the dwarf king have an alliance but mutual understanding is not always there."

Murtagh shifted uncomfortably straining the healing wounds on his back. His anger was fading; he found it hard for some strange reason to be mad at the woman for long. Even though he shouldn't have cared and indeed in the past wouldn't have after how the rider had treated him he asked. "How is Eragon, is he in a likewise situation because of his association with me?"

A strange look crossed Nasuada face and then disturbed at his words for a few seconds before her face cleared. "He is fine and in good health."

"I presume he has no idea what's been happening over the past few hours then huh?" Murtagh gave a wry smile and continued none too nicely. "Still as clueless as ever."

Nasuada ignored his tone and spoke. "No, and that's what we need to talk about, he must not find out what has happened"

"Don't want him to know that the people who he would fight for aren't exactly innocent?" Murtagh shifted and grimaced before continuing raggedly. "Forget it if he bothers to actually come here, I'm going to put a little knowledge in his head about the real world." Murtagh twisted his back slightly so the bandages already beginning to dampen with blood were visible. "Show him that heroics and nobility only result in this."

"If you do this the Varden risks losing his support. In fact his sympathies could tip towards the wrong way, even from seeing him from afar I can see he is impressionable."

Murtagh snorted causing him to press a hand to his ribs which Angela hadn't healed fully. "Impressionable? Eragon's not impressionable so much as he's a gullible idiot. Everything's black and white to him, good and evil and most of the time there's a lot that—"

"—doesn't fit in either category" Nasuada finished and ignoring Murtagh's startled look continued. "Eragon is the first dragon rider in years; his very existence gives hope to a cause which many people have given up on resigning themselves to lives of oppression and fear. Would you truly sacrifice millions of people's lives' and happiness because of a personal grudge?"

Murtagh's face contorted and he forced himself up from where he was lying. He twisted his back towards her even though the pain was evident in his movements, and allowed her to see the marks and deep cuts that marred his skin. "Does this look like a grudge to you? They tortured me for hours before you came, they would have killed me eventually. And you stand here talking to me about our cause and fear and oppression? I have done nothing my entire life but remain in constant fear, and defend myself against countless attacks; I can't even sleep unless my sword is nearby. "Murtagh had started out yelling and was gasping as he finished roughly. "So do not lecture me on grudges unless you are also willing to lecture the other people who hate me because of something I have no control over. My father was a monster and a murder and I am his son, but I remove to fall upon my sword in repentance for his deeds because the majority of people think I am like him!"

Nasuada swallowed at his words and glanced away. His words reminded her of her reasons for hating him and then she was forced t think of how it must have felt to have grown up scorned openly by those who could get away with it and secretly by those who didn't dare make their avarice evident. Her thoughts were interrupted as Murtagh gave strangled gasp of pain and Nasuada looked up to find all the colour drained from his face and his hands tightly fisted in is blankets as he fought against the pain and exhaustion that was coursing through him, she reached out towards him, intending to push him back and he jerked away from her touch like a wild animal. His teeth were bared in pain and anger, he hissed out between forced breaths. "Leave me alone, don't pretend you care."

Nasuada let her hands fall to her sides and instead watched as Murtagh carefully manoeuvred himself into a more comfortable position. She swallowed back the words she wanted to say and instead said. "You may not care about what affect your words will have on the future of the Varden, but you should know that your course of actions will be the catalyst for several events if you proceed with what you're planning."

Murtagh scowled at her but didn't speak. Nasuada wondered whether she should even tell the man, what she knew but then decided that if it was the only thing that could possibly divert Murtagh from his planned course of action than she had to try it. "Many people, of whom my father and I are not apart, believe that if the new dragon rider is not loyal to our cause then he is loyal to none."

Murtagh laughed. "As he should be, the power a rider has should not be subjected to the whims of capricious leaders or groups of people. At least someone should be allowed to choose their own destiny."

"And in that lies the problem. Galbatorix had power, power enough to choose his own destiny and as such choose everybody else too; many would not let the same rider fall into such a way…or even worse become a tool for Galbatorix, even if it meant the source of contention was destroyed. "
Nasuada watched as Murtagh's face grew closed as he processed her words. "Murtagh, you have to understand that if Eragon was to become disillusioned there are many, many people, humans, dwarves, even elves who would do anything to avoid having the possibility of another tyrant." She paused and continued. "What you're being asked to do will affect everybody….Most of all Eragon."

Murtagh was silent for several minutes and then he looked up at Nasuada. "I wouldn't want something to befall him because of me." He didn't miss the expression that crossed the woman's face at his words. "What I said disturbs you?"

"You would care if something were to happen to Eragon?"

"Yes, we travelled together for months. I could have easily left him and Sapphira many times, and he would have died. But I stayed, at first I convinced myself it was because he was a Rider, then later I convinced myself I couldn't leave safely without risking drawing attention" Murtagh glanced away and when he looked back to his face a curious expression flitted across before he added. "And now I don't know why I stayed." He stared at his palms and then spoke again. "This makes no sense, here I sit son of one of the most hated people in the empire, with a tenuous association with the first rider in years and who will probably shape the next century, being asked a favor by the daughter of one of the most powerful leaders in the empire and yet, I'm still hunted by the most powerful man in Alagaësia. It's circles upon circles." He gave a mirthless laugh.

Nasuada was silent and glanced away before speaking. "I was prepared to hate you. For who you are, for what your father did, for all that you represent, and yet…. You are dissimilar to Morzan and yet, I can't forget you're his son."

Murtagh and his jaw tightened. "I'm not my father, and to compare me to him is a curse I have borne all my life unwillingly and without a choice." He slashed a hand through the air. "I no more chose my father, than you chose yours and yet here we stand, you daughter of one of the most powerful people in all of Alagaësia and me a person who if the lowest peasant was to know my parentage they would gladly spit on me and many would do worse."

"I understand it's not fair, but Morzan's actions aren't something that can easily be forgotten, not even in the case of his son. Your father's history, especially in the case of my mother is cruel and inhuman." She broke off realizing she accidentally told a lot more than she wanted to. It was a few
moments before she contained herself enough to continue. "Even though I never met Morzan, I was told by my father of what he had done and his words aren't something I can ever forget."

Murtagh felt a glimmer of understanding finally for Nasuada's and Ajihad's hostility and he longed to find out more. But the look on the woman's face restrained him. He laughed humourlessly again. "I guess here we stand then apart from each other by the same thing and mirrors because of it. Our father's and old history which neither of us had any part in."

"A stalemate, then."

"Yes."

Nasuada looked up and caught Murtagh's gaze, her next words were chosen carefully. "You know, when there's a stalemate, typically the game is over."

"There never was a game, between us Lady Nasuada, we're merely the ones being played, unwilling pawns in a much larger game…."

Nasuada regarded Murtagh for a moment then asked. "So what is your move, will you do as proposed?"

"Will I keep my silence about being tortured?" Murtagh said wryly. "You have nothing to fear from me, I know my place, and how do you think I survived all these years in the empire. It was certainly not by allowing the truth to be known."

Nasuada nodded and rose. As she neared the door Murtagh called out. "So, am I to be kept here, until I submit to having my mind examined because that will never happen."

"I do not know for sure, possibly unless there is other means of verifying you and your story." She hesitated and then added. "I will speak to my father on your behalf, I'll be back tomorrow if there's something to tell."

"And..." Murtagh seemed to hesitate and then he continued roughly, a tinge of colour coming to his face. " if not then will you still come back?"

Nasuada paused, her hand on the door knob as she glanced back at Murtagh. She was surprised by the request. His face was drawn with pain but his eyes stared back at her with startling intensity. Against her will the smallest hint of a smile tugged at her lips before fading. "We shall see Murtagh."