AN: Hello all, this is Your Greatest Fear, and welcome to my first ever Eragon fanfiction. And I mean first ever. It's not only the first posted, but the first written. YAY. So, er, as you can plainly see, this is a slash(yaoi) fanfiction. The pairing: Murtagh and Eragon. Yay. It's slash, and incest. So here you have it hope you enjoy. Oh, and this is my first lemon EVER written, whether het, gay, whatever, it's the first one I ever wrote and it's a little embarrassing to have this posted. Um, so please read and review, if you wanna leave flame that's fine by me, I'll gladly accept it since I've never had one. As long as you read the story and have something to say is fine by me. Oh, and could you give me a little constructive criticism. Yay. I wanna know what you like, what you hated, if my lemon was okay, and all that jazz. Ok, good. Oh and please forgive me for this pathetic crap that I have decided to post. Hee, enjoy anyway. I tend to call all my work crap . . .oh, also, sorry for any spelling and grammatical mistakes, I try to make it perfect, it tends to disagree with me...

--I dedicate this story to the small amount of people who want it, those that have admitted it and even to those who are still in their closets, pretending they don't, when they really do. I just felt that there wasn't enough slash in the Eragon world, and the ones that existed were either badly written (no offence) or were very light and in the K rating. Well, I wanted more, so I made it. So this is for all those who want it, take it, like it, and review.--

WARNING: This story contains scenes of steamy, hot, and, er wet? homosexual er . . . sex. As well as themes of incest. Don't like, don't read, click the back button and your safe. Like what you see, continue but don't blame me when you become emotionally scarred for life.

Small insignificant little fact(s): This is the first Eragon fanfiction that I have ever written, it is the first lemon I have ever written and posted (figures it would be a slash, I couldn't be normal, could I?) It's also the first one shot I have written, as well as the first completed story. Also, this story will probably be the first one to have a sequel. So many firsts, I feel as if we should have a party... (a very sexy party...lol, I love Stewie, from Family Guy...) Also: Let's pretend that there is a forest near Gil'lead, okay, good. I hate details, bah who needs them? Also: er, Eragon might act a little OOC in here, I mean, I don't think he's really this dumb and slow in real life, if he is, well...ok. Uh, yea so anyway, OOC in this story, I mean what do you expect, slash, yaoi, lemon, slight AU, OOC is a must. So continue reading. Also: Er, the title is kinda crappy, it was the only thing that fit. If any of you people have some suggestions, I would love to hear it. It was originally called "The Illness" but I thought that title-sucked ass, so yea. It's this title now. Er, enjoy . . . any questions, just ask.

Disclaimer: I do not own the book Eragon, nor the characters in the book, they are owned by Christopher Paolini. (Damn him . . . ) Er, I guess I own the plot so no stealing.

Summary: (Takes place before they rescue Arya, and after Brom died. Just in the first book) Wondering around on the out skirts of Gil'lead, Murtagh and Eragon find themselves attacked by these weird creatures. Eragon gets hit in the shoulder by an oddly colored arrow, its poison having . . . interesting, side effects.

One-shot

Title: Fate's Gleaming Arrow

Pairings: Murtagh and Eragon

Warnings: Slash, lemon

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"Eragon, run!"

Eragon had been siting at the edge of a forest, in the process of cleaning his tools in the nearby stream when Murtagh had come running out of the forest, a look of alertness and slight fear upon his face. He was cradling an injured arm, the blood flowing past his hand and onto the ground. On his back was half a quiver of arrows, most of them broken, and in his other uninjured hand, a now broken and useless bow. Eragon wondered vaguely why Murtagh still had it. During the time he had been staring, his brain began to focus, he remembered Murtagh had told him to run. Why?

"Murtagh! What hap-" he was cut short as a loud and piercing war cry broke out from the trees to his right, startled he stood up, cradling his weapons.

"No time to talk, run now!" Murtagh had appeared by his side and was pulling Eragon with as much force as he could muster.

"Run? But what was that?" Eragon refused to move until he figured out what had made that noise and why Murtagh was injured.

"Idiot, we're in danger. We have to run before–" This time loud footsteps and the sound of hooves issued from the forest.

It seemed that Eragon's brain had finally decided to work, for he began to run with Murtagh, the sounds getting louder by the second. Finally, the creators of the noise were revealed as these beings of light erupted from the forest, riding upon creatures that vaguely resembled horses, all of them were pure white, and had a sort of dragonish appearance to them.

"What the hell?" was all Eragon could say before a valley of arrows began flying their way. They attempted to dodge the arrows and run away, but no mater how skilled they were, some of the arrows managed to find their mark. One arrow, separated from the rest, came flying toward them at light speed. Unlike the others, this arrow's shaft was a gleaming white, while the others had been black, or else a dull brown. The feathers at the tail of the arrow were also different. They were a bright and deep red; their color resembled that of blood.

This arrow, as it would, lodged itself deeply into Eragon's right shoulder, even though he had made attempts to dodge it. As he scratched and clawed at his back, attempting to dislodge it, he noticed it wouldn't come out. Every time he touched it, he would feel hot, white, searing pain as it burned him. Murtagh noticed this too, and could only watch as with time, the arrow lost its color, first beginning at the tail, and as time progressed, snaking its way to the head. It was only when all the color had drained from the arrow that it finally came out.

This was also the time when Eragon's brain decided to work again, reminding him that he had a dragon. Damn, why didn't I think of it before.

Saphira! Eragon yelled within his mind, calling for his blue dragon. As Saphira's irritated 'What!' came through, he realized he really shouldn't have yelled so loudly.

Sorry, but we need your help.

Where are you? Came Saphira's worried reply.

Through his mind he sent Saphira a picture of where they were. As she promised she would come, Eragon broke the connection, and returned to the present, still aware they were being chased. Come on Saphira, hurry up!

As if hearing his plea, a loud and thunderous roar erupted from the clouds as a large, blue creature flew toward the chase. The beings that had been chasing Eragon and Murtagh looked up startled. As Saphira came into view, they began pointing and whispering. Some of them, not so brave at heart, screamed and ran away. It seemed that they were the smartest of their group, sensing danger when it came.

The others remained, and stupidly gawked at the dragon, completely forgetting the ones they had been chasing.

With a resounding crash that shook the ground, Saphira landed in front of Eragon and Murtagh, glaring at the befuddled creatures. The blue dragon then proceeded to growl and bare her fangs, swiping alternately with her front paws. The gleaming creatures began to scream and ran, once in a while crashing into each other. It took a while for all of them to clear out, but when they did, both Eragon and Murtagh breathed a sigh of relief.

Eragon was about to speak his thanks to Saphira when the dragon suddenly turned on Eragon, glaring.

"Saphira–" Eragon began, but was promptly cut off by said dragon.

How many times have I told you to not run off! Saphira yelled at the poor rider.

"But Saphira, I didn't run off. I was with Murtagh, and you knew where I was going."

Staring at him with cool, calculating eyes, she snorted.

Even so, whenever you are not within my sights, something happens to you. What if next time I am incapable of reaching you? That's it, from now on you are not to leave my sights. Is that understood? She glared at Eragon, as if daring him to refuse. Which was exactly what Eragon decided to do.

"But, what if we go somewhere you can't go, like a village or a town? Then what?"

She gave him a look that plainly said "so what?" but finally caved in.

During those times you are to keep contact with me at all times, and send me constant images of where you are, so that if something happens I could rescue you, is that understood little one?

Eragon stared at her, but after a moment or two, Eragon responded. "Yes mother." Eragon said sullenly, knowing this was his best deal.

Good, now lets tend to your wounds.

The next hour or so was spent locating, treating, and bandaging up every wound they could. Sooner than later, night had fallen. Setting up camp, they settled near a large rock.

It was during this time, while they waited for the fire to heat, that Murtagh told them the story that lead to the chase. He told them that he had wondered into the forest to look for food. That for the first ten minutes he could find nothing, when he suddenly came upon a sort of gleaming tree, full with scrumptious looking fruit.

"And then, as I was reaching for one of the fruits," Murtagh was telling them. "This arrow suddenly comes shooting out of the forest, piercing my arm. I yelled, and then a bunch of arrows came flying out. I began to run, and these things, these creatures began chasing me. I ran out of the forest and told Eragon to run, but he just sat there like an idiot." At this Murtagh turned and pointedly began staring at Eragon, who blushed.

"I said I was sorry." He said, not meeting, Murtagh's accusing gaze.

"It was your stalling that cost us precious running time, idiot!" Murtagh yelled.

"Shut up, I know that, and I said I was sorry."

"Hmm, anyway," Murtagh continued. "After Eragon finally decided to run," at this Murtagh resisted the urge to glare at Eragon, who had looked the other way. "This barrage of arrows came flying at us. One of them, a bright white one with red feathers, hit Eragon in the shoulder. It looked different from the rest, so I'm a little suspicious, it might have had poison or something. So, how do you feel?" Murtagh asked, turning to the rider.

"Oh, so now you ask if I'm okay. Well I'm not, are you happy? I see spots everywhere, I have a cold, my leg fell off, and I'm actually dead. But don't worry about me, I'm just dandy." Eragon said sarcastically, crossing his arms, and glaring darkly at the sky.

"Glad to see you're okay. Now, are you up to some food, or are you beheaded as well, and can't eat?" Murtagh asked, his lips itching to smiled. Eragon only stared.

"Just give me my food, dammit." The rest of the night passed with no interruption. Actually, the next couple of days felt like a dream after that chase. And it was during the night of the third day since the incident that anything worth telling happened.

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It was the third night since the 'incident', as they liked to call the chase. They had made much progress, and had met no one along the way, both lead them to believe that maybe their plan would work. But of course, with good progress always came a great deal of fatigue, and their group (though a little mismatched) could currently be found on the out skirts of Gil'lead.

Murtagh in particular had been quite fatigue, he thought it was due to the chase. So naturally he had fallen asleep rather quickly. He had thought that the others had done so as well, until the sound of rustling met his ears and processed in sleep-deprived brain. 'What the hell is Eragon doing.' Groggily Murtagh got up, and stared at one of the most bizarre (and slightly arousing-where did that come from), sights.

There in front of him by the dying embers of the fire, was Eragon, currently in the process of taking his shirt off.

"Eragon, wha–? What the hell are you doing?" Murtagh asked the younger boy, irritation and confusion lacing his words.

The boy in question didn't stop what he was doing, now trying to pull his shirt over his head. He answered all the same, though, his words clear albeit muffled.

"I'm trying to -tug- take off -pull- my shirt!" with an almighty tug that nearly ripped his shirt in two, Eragon pulled the shirt over his head and threw it in an anonymous direction. He then turned to Murtagh, his breathing labored, as if he had run a marathon. Seeing the boy in full view, Murtagh then noticed that Eragon was slightly flush, a slight film of sweat over his skin.

"Eragon?" Murtagh asked the boy slightly, inconspicuously moving toward the boy.

"Are you feeling okay?" being this close to Eragon, Murtagh could actually feel the heat radiating off the boy.

"Murtagh" Eragon said breathlessly, moving closer to the other boy. "I don't feel so good"

Cautiously Murtagh raised a hand to the boy's forehead, and at the same time, the boy's hand found its way on top of Murtagh's other hand. Ignoring this sudden contact, Murtagh proceeded to check his temperature. Feeling Eragon's forehead, Murtagh was almost sure that the boy had a fever. He was going to voice his concern, when the boy he was worrying about moved closer, way too close for comfort, and invaded his personal breathing space. He was much too close, and just as Murtagh was going to move away, he felt Eragon's lips press lightly against his own in a light kiss. It was a small kiss, short as well. It was as if Eragon was simply sampling, wanting to know how it tasted. Just as quickly as it had started it ended as Eragon moved away, licking his lips experimentally.

His half-masted eyes stared at Murtagh's, as if telling him he wanted more.

Murtagh could only stare as Eragon moved away and began taking off his shoes. He vaguely wondered what was happening, when his body too, began to break out in heat. He began panting, and stared at Eragon as if he were a piece of meat, though for the life of him he didn't know why.

"Eragon" Murtagh muttered huskily, staring at the boy who threw his shoe over his shoulder carelessly.

"Come over here, I want to check your wound" Eragon, without hesitation or suspicion, complied with Murtagh's request. Moving to his hands and knees, Eragon heard Murtagh move behind him, one hand holding him up, the other inspecting the wound.

Murtagh stared at the small circular scar, the only reminder of the arrow that had found its way to Eragon's shoulder. He traced over the mark with trembling fingers, feeling immense heat and desire pouring out of the wound in waves. A slight part of his working brain wondered briefly if that was possible. As his finger glazed over the wound, and Eragons's shoulder blade, he heard Eragon moan slightly, and saw the boys hand dig into the dirt. A devilish grin appeared on Murtagh's face.

"Was that a moan of pain, or of pleasure?" Murtagh asked teasingly, repeating the action again, though he made it slow and deliberate. Eragon moaned louder, and even spoke Murtagh's name in the same husky tone.

Murtagh chuckled slightly, becoming dazed by the swirls of emotions around him. On a whim, he stuck out his tongue and licked the scar. It almost seemed as if Eragon's cry had reverberated all the way to the city, seeing as it was fairly loud.

"Murtagh" Eragon moaned.

"What is it Eragon?" Murtagh responded, both of his hands roaming over the boys back, as well as his front.

"Stop being a fucking tease." Eragon had turned his head slightly to stare at Murtagh. And Murtagh, staring into those lust filled eyes, found himself moving forward and ultimately locking lips with Eragon in a hungry kiss. If anyone had come upon the two now, they probably would have thought that they were attempting to eat each other. Lips crashed, teeth clashed and tongues danced as they continued their kiss. The kiss only broke, when they pulled apart for much needed oxygen.

They remained in close proximity, however, as their lungs worked to pump in air. A trail of saliva connected the two mouths until Murtagh decided to ravish at Eragon's neck. The older boy sucked, and bit, leaving more than a few marks, and eliciting deep moans and groans from the boy beneath him. He licked his way to Eragon's back, licking and sucking as much skin as he could. Moving away slightly, Murtagh traced Eragon's spine with his fingers, the boy arching to meet his touch. Soon his hand was replaced by his tongue as Murtagh worked his way from the top to the base of Eragon's spine, leaving behind a long trail of saliva. It was any wonder that Saphira was still asleep, with all the noise Eragon was making. Finally, Murtagh met the small of Eragon's back, and ultimately the hem of his pants. Eragon's quick intake of breath told Murtagh that he knew what was coming. But before that, Murtagh had a little problem, one that consisted of taking his shirt off.

"Murtagh?" Eragon turned slightly, and this time, he was the one graced with the lovely image of another stripping. He watched as Murtagh first removed his shirt, followed then by his shoes, each thrown carelessly over his shoulder.

"Murtagh–" the look that Murtagh sent him was enough to shut Eragon up, and make his already erected member, if possible even harder. Somewhere from the deep recess of his mind, he heard a small growl, but promptly ignored it. Murtagh's lustful glare was enough to drive all rational and even irrational thoughts from his head. His upstairs brain had gone to sleep, leaving his downstairs brain to do all the thinking, and partying as well.

Eragon turned completely around at this time, so that he was now sitting down, his legs spread and stretched as if inviting. And invite it did. Murtagh slowly began crawling toward Eragon. Finally reaching the boy, Murtagh crawled in between his legs, so close, that their chest touched. It almost seemed as if Murtagh had been especially made for Eragon, the way their two forms molded perfectly together.

At the feel of their bare chest touching, both boys let out a throaty and husky moan. And almost immediately after, their lips meet in a fiery kiss that set their souls ablaze, their minds becoming more and more intoxicated as they kissed.

Soon Murtagh had pushed Eragon to the ground, one hand supported his weight so as to not crush the boy he was kissing; the other hand moved to the fastening at Eragon's pants, and was currently attempting to unfasten them.

It was when they broke the kiss–seconds? minutes? hours?– later that the pants finally were off, and as soon as they were, Murtagh sent them flying over his shoulder, quickly followed by his own. More heated kissing, more rough touches, and Murtagh was almost sure Saphira had awoken from all the noises issuing from their very busy mouths.

Breaking for air, Murtagh moved his kisses to Eragon's neck again, bitting, licking and kissing, and more marks appeared. He moved downward to the boy's chest.

His left hand eventually found one of Eragon's nipples. A rough flick, a moan from Eragon, and the nub had hardened. His mouth, on the other hand, had found its pair. And Murtagh wasted no time in covering the nipple with his mouth, sucking, licking, bitting, all the while Eragon moaned and squirmed, only urging Murtagh to do more. Moving away from the slightly abused, yet taut nipple, he brought his attention to the other one, the one that had been previously under the care of his left hand, and administered the same treatment to it. Soon, as both nipples were hard and taut, he traced his kisses downward, intent on making as many marks as possible. He finally met Eragon's navel, and made it his duty, to become acquainted with it. He dipped his tongue into it, eliciting moans and groans as Eragon arched of the ground.

Moving back up, he captured Eragon in a soul searing kiss. Grabbing Eragon's hands in the process, he entwined their fingers, bringing their locked hands over Eragon's head. Eragon also decided to take action, and, ignoring the slight growl in his head, he wrapped his legs around Murtagh, bringing their heated, and not to mention, cloth erections together, this, if any thing, brought on their greatest, and possibly, loudest moan.

"Eragon . . . " Murtagh whispered as he bucked and grinded their members together. With a particularly hard thrust, Murtagh thought he couldn't take it any more. He wanted more, and he wanted it now.

"Eragon," more grinding and kissing ensued. "I need more . . . " In an unspoken agreement, Eragon unhooked his legs, and untwined their hands. With quite a great deal of will power, Murtagh moved off of Eragon, flipping the boy to his hands and knees. Moving behind the boy, Murtagh began ravishing at his back, one hand groping underneath Eragon for his prize. He was rewarded with a deep groan and a thrust as Murtagh's fingers found their way around Eragon's heated member. He faintly heard Eragon call his name before said boy began thrusting into his hand.

Slowly, Murtagh's hand began to meet Eragon's movements, moving up and down the shaft in rhythm to Eragon's thrusts. His hand began to move up and down at a much faster pace, forgetting everything else he was doing, he concentrated on the boy beneath him, and the boys quickly oncoming orgasm. Soon enough, as the thrusts began to get more wild, and frantic, Murtagh felt the boy tense beneath him, and spasm slightly before he came hard into Murtagh's hand, Eragon's seed spilling onto the ground, making the grass slightly lighter.

After his orgasm, Eragon's labored breaths slowly began to melt into his normal breathing pattern, Murtagh's hand still on the boys slowly softening member. Murtagh spoke the boy's name softly, at the same time, moving his soiled hand up and down the boy's shaft. Said boy went rigid at his touches, and, once again, his breaths became short gasps, and moans. Murtagh removed his hand as he felt the boys cock come to life again, earning himself a whimper from the loss of touch.

Chuckling softly, he brought his hand to the hem of Eragon's underwear, and before the boy could protest, had them off him in three seconds, if not less. Not wanting the boy to be the only one naked, Murtagh quickly disposed of his own underwear, moving quickly behind Eragon. At the feel of his heated member against the cool backside of the boy, Murtagh, as well as Eragon, let out an extremely loud, and needy moan. Once again, Murtagh saw the boy dig his nails into the ground.

Smirking slightly, Murtagh found himself doing something slightly daring. Moving slightly away from Eragon, Murtagh grasped unto the boy's gluttons, moving them slightly away from each other, slowly exposing Eragon's entrance.

He heard Eragon "eep" slightly, and knew a deep blush was marring that beautiful face. Just as he was about to do the daring deed, he heard a faint, yet clear growl, deep within his mind. He turned slightly to stare at Saphira, noting that she was still in a deep sleep. Shrugging it off, he lowered his head and exposed his moist tongue to Eragon's entrance. The "eep" and moan that he heard from Eragon, shot straight to his erection, nearly making him lose it. But he continued vigilantly, swirling his tongue, moistening it up, he made sure Eragon was nice and wet before he continued. As he did this, he heard a sigh, and groan of embarrassment come of the boy, and smirked as he did.

Removing his tongue, he kissed the entrance lightly, earning another "eep." He chuckled slightly, before bringing his forefinger to his mouth, when it was effectively covered in his saliva, he brought it to Eragon's entrance, and pushed slightly. Eragon immediately stiffened at having an invading force in his very private place, but at Murtagh's reassurances, he relaxed, and allowed Murtagh to continue, and continue he did.

As Eragon relaxed, Murtagh brought his finger slowly deeper in, before removing it slightly, in and out, in and out, it went, until he was sure Eragon's body was getting used the invading force. When he was sure of this, he brought out his finger, only to have it replaced by two. Repeating the steps, Murtagh slowly readied Eragon for the much larger thing Murtagh was going to be placing inside the boy. This time though, Murtagh dug deeper, his thrust becoming harder and more demanding, until a deep intake of breath and groan from the boy, assured him he had found it. Rubbing the spot again, he was rewarded with a deeper moan. Slowly he began thrusting, and at every pass of the boy's prostate, Eragon was being slowly driven to his own orgasm once again. This time though, Murtagh stopped before Eragon came again. He allowed the boy to cool slightly, receiving a whimper. When Murtagh was sure Eragon wouldn't come, he pushed a third finger into the boy's entrance, attempting to get the boy prepared as best he could. When he was sure the boy could handle something else in there he removed his fingers, and instead moved his member to the valley between the boy's buttocks. He heard Eragon gulp. Moving his mouth to the boys ears he whispered slightly.

"Do you want me to put it in you know?" Murtagh asked breathlessly, not knowing how long he could last. His reply came in the form of a thrust, as Eragon pushed up against him. Smirking, he once again brought his fingers to his mouth, and getting as much moister as he could, he brought them to the boys entrance, making sure he was well lubricated. Then, as slowly as he could, he brought his member to Eragon's entrance, pushing in slightly, both boys gasped in surprise, Eragon in surprise of having such a large thing in him, Murtagh, in having such a tight fit around his cock. Not to be discouraged by the slightly uncomfortable fit, he told Eragon that it would only get better. Pushing in deeper, he felt Eragon's muscles clench around him. And at the same time, somehow he knew Eragon was crying.

"Eragon . . . y-you . . . have to breathe . . . properly . . . or . . . or it won't . . . won't work" Murtagh was having trouble speaking between his pants and gasps. Slowly the boy began breathing again. Harsh pants and deep grunts now filled the air. As a plus, Eragon relaxed once more, and Murtagh wasted no time in filling the boy with his member. Stopping as he buried himself to the hilt, he and Eragon began taking deep breaths. Eragon must have felt that too much time had passed for his liking, for he soon began thrusting against Murtagh. Both boys gasped at the feelings those thrusts induced.

Murtagh, feeling Eragon had too much control, decided to take it from him, he slowly began thrusting against Eragon, and with each slight shove came the confidence to do more. He began thrusting deeper, and at times passed against the spot that alone nearly made Eragon come. Getting more daring, he removed his cock so that only the tip remained inside Eragon, and then, he pushed deeply into the boy, pressing up against the boys sweet spot. He continued this for several moments, before he too felt the onslaughts of his orgasm. He began thrusting again, and fairly soon, white spots danced in his field of vision as Eragon clenched upon him as his own orgasm came. This final action was what brought Murtagh to his orgasm, he closed his eyes as he moaned deeply, shooting his load deep within Eragon. He didn't stop thrusting until Eragon milked him for all he was worth, and his own seed began leaking out of the boy.

Exhausted, Murtagh collapsed unto the boy beneath him, forgetting that he was larger, and heavier than the boy. They stayed in that position, Murtagh still buried deep within Eragon, until their pants began to resemble their normal breathing qualities. Slowly, Murtagh removed himself from within Eragon, not wanting to cause any more pain. Moaning at the loss of heat from within Eragon, Murtagh dragged himself off, rolling onto the soiled grass next to the boy. Too exhausted to get his clothes back on, Murtagh only had enough strength to pick up a forgotten blanket and throw it over themselves. Eragon was already slightly dazed, and beginning to fall asleep. Slowly as Eragon's eyes dropped lower, he heard Murtagh mutter three slight, indefinable words. His eyes drooped lower, and slowly, Eragon wandered into the land of sleep, where dreams reined supreme, and reality was a joke.

Murtagh stared at the slumbering boy, hardly believing he had uttered those three words. Shaking his head slightly, he half-prayed that maybe Eragon had not heard, the other wishing with all his might that he had. Slowly, as a slight grey began to cross the sky, Murtagh closed his eyes as exhaustion finally won him over.

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The next morning, the sun rose normally, giving all creatures, and plants its infinite rays of light. One creature in particular, a human named Eragon, had awoken from his deep slumber, thanks to the small twittering birds, and the intense rays of the Sun. Getting up slowly, his head began to pound with the onslaughts of a headache. Moaning slightly, he rubbed the sleep from his eyes, only to feel a slight draft. He looked down as his body and was pleasantly surprised to find himself naked. This confused him for a second, before a deep feeling of pain erupted from his ass.

"Holy crap, what the hell happened last night?" The dazed, and confused boy looked down at his naked form, only to see slight marks marring his tanned chest. He was also aware of a white, slightly sticky, and crusting . . . thing . . . on his stomach. He moved his hand to it. It felt . . . old, as if it had been there since last night. "What the hell?" Eragon asked again.

I see we're finally awake. A slightly irritated voice rang out through his already ringing head.

"Saphira?" Eragon asked.

Glad to see we have it together to actually remember my name. Hn, I didn't even expect you to remember your own name. Saphira said acidly. Her attitude toward him only caused him more confusion.

"Saphira, do you know what happened? I feel like I've been run over by a truck." Eragon murmured as he ran his hand through his hair.

So you really don't remember? Saphira asked teasingly, obviously knowing something that Eragon didn't.

"Dammit, just tell me already!" Eragon yelled in frustration. Wasn't it enough that he couldn't remember anything at all? Did she have to force it back in his face?

Saphira's amused voice rung out through his head. But I really don't want to tell you. I want to see if your smart enough to figure out what happened. Though, how you could possibly forget something like that, is beyond me. Eragon could tell, that if she could speak normally, she would be laughing her ass off right about now. But something she had said triggered in his mind. He didn't really like the way she had said "that." Just what exactly had happened? Maybe Murtagh could tell him what happened.

Ignoring his own nakedness, Eragon moved across the grass, which oddly enough, had the same white substance strewn on the leaves, and moved toward Murtagh. He was surprised to see Murtagh sleeping on the grass with only a blanket. As he neared Murtagh, he was also surprised to find, that the boy was just as naked as he was. At this he paused, and began looking around. Ignoring the still snickering dragon, Eragon now noticed, that around the clearing were what looked like clothing. In fact, as he looked closer, he realized that they were his clothing, as well as Murtagh's. He began to wonder what they hell they had done, for he soon realized that the other boy must have been involved in some sort of way.

He began thinking. What type of activity required the force of two boys? What type of activity called for said boys to be naked? What type of activity ended up with his own ass hurting? What type of activity produced that white substance that stained his stomach, cock, grass, and now that he noticed, his own asshole? His mind began putting two and two together, but only drew up a blank (he could hear Saphira howling in laughter, he promptly ignored her). It was when a slight sigh, a moan and an utterance of his name in a husky tone, reached his ears, that he finally realized what that activity could be (he then heard Saphira's laughter turn into growls, something that sounder faintly familiar).

With a huge blush upon his face, he turned his head toward the slumbering older boy. Slowly crawling toward him, he lifted the blanket to find that the boys body (mainly his cock) was also covered in the white substance. He let the blanket fall out of his hands, as his stunned eyes looked passed the boy, and into the distance. There was just no way. There was just no way that he would do that thing with, with this, this stranger, technically. He stared dully at the boy, and promptly fell on his rump. The boy within the blanket stirred, and in a couple of stressful moments, the boy's eyes opened to reveal hazel orbs, slightly coated with the remembrance of sleep, as well as slightly forgotten lust.

As Murtagh's eyes fell upon Eragon, Eragon "eeped," and moved backward.

"Eragon?" came Murtagh's sluggish words. He began blinking and stretching, the blanket pooling at his waste. With a great shuddering yawn, the turned his attention to the younger boy, who still seemed shocked at finding him awake. Shaking his head slightly from the sleepiness, he passed one of his hands in front of Eragon's face. Eragon then napped out of his revere, and moved backward, yelping as he did.

"Eragon!" Murtagh yelled in surprise, moving to help the boy.

"Stay away from me!" Came Eragon's fearful reply.

"What?" Murtagh could only stare in disbelief.

"You heard me, I said stay away. I–I need to think." Eragon said blushingly.

"Think about what? About us? The journey? The sun? What, what is it!" Murtagh demanded he knew. Why was Eragon acting so strange?

"A-about us, I-I guesses . . . "Eragon said looking down at his very naked legs. As he was doing this however, he did not hear Murtagh move closer until it was too late. Eragon jumped at the feel of Murtagh's hand around his waist, wrapping the blanket around their bodies. Eragon sighed, and knew that there was no way in hell that he would get out of this one.

"Eragon" Murtagh sighed into the boy's ear, causing said boy to visibly shiver. "Just tell me what this is about, are you regretting? Cause you can't take that back you know. Or is it something else? Speak to me."

Slowly Eragon did speak. "Well, I guess I'm not really regretting, I mean how can I regret about something I don't remember?" Eragon asked sheepishly to the stunned boy.

"You . . . don't remember?" Murtagh asked in shock.

"Nope, nothing at all, sorry . . . "

Staring at Eragon, he turned his gaze toward the blue dragon. "Did you have anything to do with this?"

Saphira growled. Why would I meddle in such trial things? It's no my fault that you were so bad you made Eragon forget! Saphira yelled at Murtagh.

"Then how the hell would he forget?" Something about the previous night called out to him. He had had a fever. Maybe that made him forget?

"Eragon, do you remember anything at all?"

"Er, I remember falling asleep, and um, oh, feeling really, really hot."

So he did have a fever. Murtagh looked over the boy. Maybe there was a way to shock the memories into the boy. Only one way to know.

Before Eragon could move away, Murtagh had executed his plan. He had kissed Eragon. Maybe then he would remember. He was relieved to find that Eragon didn't move from the kiss, nor did he react. Was he in shock? Slowly, Murtagh pulled away, only to find a rosy-cheeked Eragon, eyes closed, and mouth still poised for the kissing.

"Well, do remember now?" Murtagh asked hopefully. When all Eragon did was shake his head, Murtagh cursed.

"Dammit. How can he not remember?" Murtagh suddenly turned to Eragon. "You don't regret it do you?"

"How could I, I–"

"Answer me. If we did what we did last night, would you be repulsed, would you run, would you regret or–" It was his turn to be cut off.

Blushing, Eragon answered just the same. "I, I wouldn't be repulsed, and the only way I would run would be if you came to chase after me, and I wouldn't regret it, even if you turned out to be my worst enemy, or even my brother. I probably would cherish the moment more." He turned hopeful eyes toward Murtagh, who could only smile. From within Eragon's mind, Saphira asked if he wanted to know what had happen, Saphira would be able to project everything that had happen in pure detail. Poor Saphira, she had to witness it all. He blushed and was about to answer, when Murtagh suddenly had him in a tight embrace, close to his ear, he whispered three little words, and almost immediately, a film began forming in his head, as if it had been waiting for Murtagh to trigger it.

They were running from the white creatures.

Bang, flash of light, and another memory took its place.

He had been hit in the shoulder and the arrow wouldn't come out

Bang, flash of light.

He had called for Saphira, who had helped them, chasing the creature out.

Bang.

They were cleaning their wounds, his skin tingling at Murtagh's every touch.

Bang.

Three days later, he had awoken to find himself felling extremely hot.

Bang.

He'd been taking off his shirt when Murtagh had asked him what he was doing. The heat had intensified under Murtagh's gaze.

Bang.

He had turned to Murtagh, the boy looking concerned for him. He had asked him if he was okay, Eragon had said he hadn't felt so good.

Bang.

Murtagh had moved closer to check his temperature, and Eragon had kissed him. He had stared him down, telling Murtagh he wanted more, and began taking off his shoes.

Bang.

Murtagh had asked to check his wound. He had complied, seeing no ulterior motives, nor the way Murtagh had looked at him.

Bang.

Murtagh had touched the scar, Eragon had felt so much desire, he had actually moaned. He heard Murtagh asking if it had been of pain, or pleasure.

Bang.

Murtagh had then licked it. Had actually licked it. Eragon told him to stop being a fucking tease.

Bang.

They had kissed again. This one being more fiery, more passionate. They had kissed till the need for air had won. Murtagh trailed his kisses down Eragon's back.

Bang.

Murtagh had sucked hard on his skin, leaving more than a few hickeys. He had traced his spine, first with his hand, then with his tongue.

Bang.

Murtagh had moved away to take off his shirt, then his shoes. Eragon turned around, so that he was sitting. Legs stretched, waiting.

Bang.

Murtagh had begun crawling to him. Their body melded perfectly, more kissing ensued. He turned his attention to his nipples.

Bang.

He was kissing his stomach, dipping his tongue into his navel. Eragon had wrapped his legs around him, thrusting. Murtagh said he wanted more, Eragon had given.

Bang.

Eragon had turned around, and his ass was promptly pushed up against Murtagh's clothed member. Murtagh's hand had groped for something. He had grabbed Eragon's own heated erection, he began pumping, he began thrusting. Soon, he had ejaculated his seed all over Murtagh's hand.

Bang.

Murtagh had grabbed him again, thrusting till he hardened. Now that hadn't taken long. That was when Murtagh had taken off Eragon's underwear, as well as his own.

Bang.

Murtagh had grabbed his ass. Soon enough, he felt the boys tongue swirl around his entrance. Eragon was sure his face was beet red. He had never been so embarrassed before.

Bang.

Murtagh had suddenly switched. Now there was a finger there. He couldn't help it, he clenched, Murtagh said relax, so he did. The finger had thrust into him, making him feel such a new wave of passion. Soon one became two, and then it happened. Murtagh had passed the place that made him want to come. He'd done it again, and it just felt so good. Two suddenly became three, and then he was ready.

Bang.

Murtagh took out the fingers, had asked him if he wanted it in him. He had thrust against him. Murtagh had made sure he was well lubricated, then he had stuck it in him, and god had that hurt in the beginning. Slowly, Murtagh had told him to breathe, to relax. That's when it started to feel good. Having something in him was . . . odd, but it felt so good.

Bang.

He was tired of waiting, he wanted it now. He had thrust against Murtagh, who had pushed right back. In and out, in and out, that sequence ran around in his head as every thrust lead him to his own orgasm.

Bang.

Murtagh had tried something new. He would exit almost all the way, then thrust hard and deep, each time hitting Eragon's "special spot." That had been the last straw, you could only be hit for so long before you snapped, and that was what happened. White spots danced in his eyes, he had come hard, his seed spilling onto the ground. He had clenched around Murtagh, making him come with him, and milking him.

Bang.

Murtagh had collapsed on him, trying to catch his breath. Eragon had done the same. When they could breathe again, Murtagh had removed himself, earning him a groan. He had rolled onto the grass, reached for the blanket and wrapped it around them. Eragon had begun to fall asleep, just as Murtagh had said something.

I love you . . .

Eragon awoke with a gasp, finding himself in Murtagh's arms. He looked over at Murtagh, seeing fear in those eyes. Slowly he sat up, moving toward Murtagh, he gave him a light kissed, filled with so many emotions and meanings.

"You remember?" Murtagh asked. Hoping that the boy would say yes.

Slowly the boy nodded. And moved to kiss him again, this time it was a longer kiss, with more passion and more flare. Somewhere in the depths of his mind he heard a growl. Moving out of the kiss, Eragon turned to Saphira.

"It was you, you were the one who kept growling!" Eragon yelled. Murtagh was forced to remember when he had been about to lick Eragon's entrance, he had heard a growl.

What ever do you mean? Saphira tried to play innocent.

"You, every time I did something, you would growl, why?"

Because! Do you know how traumatic it was to see two boys going at it while I could see everything!

"Oh . . . sorry" Eragon apologized. He got a grunt in return.

Eragon then turned to his new found lover, and kissed him again. He whispered the same words that had been said to him, and Murtagh kissed him with new fever. With Murtagh's help, the two tumbled over, their naked forms pressed against each other. They heard a growl and something that sounded suspiciously like 'again!' before Saphira had flown away. The two boys laughed.

"You know, maybe I could be on top next time?" Eragon wiggled his eyebrows suggestively.

"Sure . . . " Murtagh began sarcastically. "Right after we discover we're enemies, and brothers to boot. Oh, and why not add you killing Gabatorix to the list while we're at it."

Eragon stared at Murtagh. "You're never gonna let me be on top are you?" Eragon pouted, having heard Murtagh's sarcastic tone quite easily.

"No." Murtagh said bluntly.

"Why not?" Eragon began to whine.

"Because I said so." Slowly Murtagh began to stand. Eragon, seeing what the boy was doing, wrapped his legs and arms around Murtagh keeping him down.

"Please?"

"No!" Trying to get up, Murtagh finally succeeded, even with the two ton octopus stuck onto him.

"Where are we going? And, please!" Eragon asked as Murtagh picked up a clean blanket, and headed in the direction of the forest.

"To get cleaned up, and no."

"Damn you . . . "

"Love you too."

"I hate you, I wanna be on top"

"No"

"Please"

And the two bickered all the way to the stream, even when they were cleaning themselves, or having yet another round at their male/male sex, Murtagh never did give in, and Eragon never did give up. And what of Saphira you say? Well, she was forced to become an avid yaoi/slash lover (and forced to watch her master be the submissive one, if only those things Murtagh had said sarcastically would come true. She thought for a while, and shuddered. Brothers? She eeped, little did she know.) Yay for her, boo for the creepy nightmares.

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End . . . I think . . .for now. . .

AN: So, how did you like it? Huh, huh? I wanna know. Please leave a review. Er, I might write a sequel to this story, evil grin. Hee hee. So please review. If you wanna flame me, please do, cuz that means that you have something to say, and I listen to all. If you want to praise me, please proceed to do so. So yea. Review, dammit. Sorry..

MURTAGHxERAGONxMURTAGH FOREVER SLASH... yay.. Hee, I like saying Bang. It was fun...

Come on Flame me already, dammit, so I can flame your asses right back! Woot, I love fire, no wait, I love FIYAAA (er, fire with an accent, I know I'm stupid deal with it. ...lol... Anyway, this has been Your Greatest Fear (hee, I love saying that), until next time, and remember leave reviews, and a little fire if you want to. Flames!

--9/2/06 8:00 pm-Posted, yay...--