Light in the Midst of Darkness

Author's note: This is my very first Eragon Fanfiction! Please enjoy!

This story is set during Eldest. Major revisions are planned...eventually.

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters/places in Eragon. Anything else, however, is mine.

Chapter 1: A Living Nightmare

It was dark when Murtagh woke up. His body ached all over, and he felt exhausted. The memories of his recent capture still burned in his mind, and he grimly recalled the Urgal ambush. With the help of the Twins, whom he'd never trusted from the beginning, the Urgals had dealt Ajihad and several others their death blow and then taken the Twins and himself into the dark tunnels from whence they had come. Ajihad didn't deserve to die, Murtagh thought bitterly, and sat up with a groan.

Murtagh noticed the bars of his prison first, and a cold sweat broke across his face. He'd been here before, when he was younger and explored Galbatorix's palace. Except last time, he'd been on the outside…

There were footsteps in the hall, and a figure stopped in front of his cell. The flickering torch in the wall cast the stranger's face in shadow, but Murtagh could still make out the cold expression, piercing eyes, and bald head of one of the Twins.

"You're awake," the man stated, then smiled in an unsettling way. "I'll have to inform him immediately."

Murtagh felt a cold, sinking sensation creeping across him, but managed to keep his face emotionless. He had a good idea of who "him" was…

The man watched Murtagh intently. "You're a bit too quiet for my liking. But no matter; we'll fix that soon." He chuckled darkly and walked off.

Murtagh watched the man's retreating form, slowly filling with despair. He could see no way to escape from this. No one knew where he was or what exactly had happened. He was truly alone… and surrounded on all sides by enemies.

A little while later, both of the Twins returned. They unlocked Murtagh's cell in silence, and roughly pulled him to his feet. Murtagh glared at his escorts, and one grinned evilly at him in reply.

"You're to come with us," the first man said.

"I gathered as much," Murtagh muttered. He earned a shove foreword for his trouble and nearly crashed into the bars at the front of his cell.

"Watch where you're going!" the other Twin snapped.

Murtagh could barely refrain from rolling his eyes. He had never liked the Twins, and the less time he spent in their presence, the better.

Sensing that their prisoner was not one for providing entertainment, the Twins escorted Murtagh down the hall. To Murtagh's annoyance, his legs were still weak from the multiple bruises he'd sustained from his capture, and he faltered a few times in his step. But the glint of steel in eyes miraculously forestalled any comments from the Twins.

As Murtagh and the others negotiated the halls and stairs, Murtagh's sense of unease grew. How would Galbatorix react to his reappearance? For Murtagh was certain that was who he was being taken to, even though he had no wish to lay eyes on that man ever again. His fears were confirmed as the Twins led him to the doors of the throne room, nodding at the stone faced guards as they approached. One Twin stepped foreword and held a whispered conversation with the guard, who nodded rapped sharply on the door.

"Who's there?" came a cold, sharp voice. Murtagh stiffened at the sound, recognizing it instantly. It was indeed Galbatorix, whose voice could easily entrance one or lash out with frightening intensity.

The guard opened the door partially and announced, "It's the Twins and your latest prisoner, Murtagh, son of Morzan." Murtagh grimaced. As if anyone present needed reminder of his heritage.

"Enter, then," the voice said. The Twins shoved Murtagh foreword as the guard opened the door.

The room was large, with a high roof. Far from making it seem spacious and open, however, the chamber felt oppressive and dark. Perhaps it was the imposing figure on the throne raised upon the dais that was responsible for the grim change in atmosphere. Intelligent, cold gray eyes stared out at the newcomers, and seemed to look straight through Murtagh, who found the effect disconcerting. Galbatorix had dark, graying hair, and an impassive expression on his face. He wore all black, with a blood red gem serving as the clasp of his ebony cape. As the Twins brought Murtagh foreword, Galbatorix rose, his cape falling into place.

"It's good to see you again, Murtagh. I wasn't sure if I would after you… left." Though his tone was pleasant and even conversational, Murtagh could sense the undercurrent of rage imbedded in his words. "Anyway, I didn't want you to think I had forgotten about you. And while I'm rather busy at the moment, I think tomorrow morning would be as good of a time as any to discuss your recent departure and the consequences that will ensure."

So basically, Galbatorix is going to severely punish me for my actions, Murtagh thought bitterly.

"That being said, I'll see you on the morrow. You're dismissed!" Galbatorix sat back down imperiously, his face still devoid of any emotion. The Twins turned, roughly shoved Murtagh back into position, and exited the large chamber. They escorted him in silence to his cell and made sure that the door was securely locked.

"We'll come for you in the morning," one of the Twins said.

"Can't say I'm not looking foreword to it," the other added, a malicious expression in his eyes.

Murtagh turned his back on the pair and stared at the wall. This was going to be a long day, and an even longer night…