A/N: I do NOT own any of these characters...sadly. :(

"Are you alright?" Murtagh asked. He brushed his dark, wet hair from his face and splashed water on his bare chest as he eyed the young rider.

He and Eragon were washing in a stream that was well hidden with plenty of cover from the trees and well away from the traveler's path. The Urgals had just caught them off guard with a surprise attack and they had just escaped with only a few minor injuries. Saphira had flown away, only a few minutes before, to hunt leaving them to fend for themselves when the attack came.

"Yeah." Eragon washed blood from a long cut on his forearm with the rushing cold water. "It's just a little scratch."

"Lemme see." Murtagh sloshed through the waist deep water over to his companion.

Eragon showed him the cut he was nursing. It was red and swollen. It felt as if it was throbbing, like it had a heart beat of it's own. He could feel a thread of nervousness and worry snake through his body as he saw the older boy frown and furrow his brows.

"What...what is it?"

"It looks like whatever they cut you with had poison on it." Murtagh explained.

"Poison?" The young boy mimicked. His voice pitched high with panic.

"Yea, I'm sure of it."

"We should find a apothecary." Eragon let out a worried sigh. "Someone to get it out before it spreads too far too fast."

Murtagh had stopped listening to him as he leaned in to Eragon's arm and put his lips to the cut.

"What do you think you are doing?" The injured boy yelled as he jerked his arm away and held it close to his own glistening chest.

"What does it look like I'm doing?" Murtagh growled. He reached for the rider's arm and grasped it frighteningly hard. "Do you want to live or die?"

"Live, of course."

"Then I'm going to have to try to suck the poison out before it gets too deep."

A wave of expressions flew across Eragon's face; surprise, wonder, curiosity, admiration, and concern.

"What if it kills you?" He asked. "I don't want you to risk your life for mine."

"We'll worry about that later. Right now, I'd rather think about saving you and your dragon."

Eragon watched as he allowed Murtagh to raise his arm to his lips. The older boy's mass of dark, wet, hair tickled his forearm. His lips felt soft and warm against the open cut. The rider closed his eyes as his companion began to suck the impurities from his arm. His felt Murtagh's warm, wet, tongue gently kneading his broken skin through his parted lips. His teeth touching lightly on the suctioned portion of skin. A warmth spread through the boy's body that had nothing to do with the poison. He felt closer to Murtagh than he had ever felt. He stood with his eyes closed savoring the experience, completely forgetting about his possible imminent death. At this moment he was in heaven.

Murtagh raised his head and spat into the rushing stream. He softly rubbed the bright red spot on Eragon's arm.

"Hopefully I got most of it out. At least that should give us a few hours to find a proper cure in a nearby town." He washed his mouth out.

"Thanks, but..." Eragon fixed his face to be completely void of expression as he regained his composure. "Don't ever do that again."