An Enemy's Heart

A/Note: This short fanfic was inspired by LOTRRanger and her story Overcome. ~Her story can be found in my favorites.~ I always wanted to know a bit more about how M&T found themselves fighting with the Varden, and this is my version of what happened.

Also in response of a couple of reviewers, Chapter One has been revised, and several flashbacks added, so even if you have read this once, you might want to skin over it again. 4-13-2011

Oh yeah... I am not CP, and I own nothing... sad really...

Chapter one: The first Beat

The sun above beat relentlessly on the restless multitude of Varden spectators, for the morning haze had evaporated hours earlier. Sweat could be seen beading on brows and creating moisture on clothes, and yet the onlookers remained steadfast where they stood.

It seemed as though he were sitting at the center of all Alagaësia. The peoples of the Varden and the Surda made up most of the bodies that pressed close on all sides... all but one, and that side was a wall. The slightly raised platform on which the officials were gathered kept the throng at bay, as they waited to hear their leader's decision regarding the enemy rider's fate. He had claimed to have changed his 'true name,' and he had brought with him a gift of the emerald egg, but that was a guarantee of nothing. Whispers and murmurs passed through the crowd as the tension grew.

In the middle of all this was the son of Morzan. A tremor shook inside him, though no one watching was able to discern his discomfort. Only his ruby scaled dragon, who shared an emotional link with him could tell that the rider's calm cool dispassionate demeanor was merely a defense that helped protect the sanctity of his inner thoughts. Murtagh was getting nervous.

Be strong my 'fierce warrior,' Thorn snorted, his light sarcasm doing nothing to lift his rider's mood. The dragon only used that particular pet-name when Murtagh was being, in his eyes, overly dramatic.

Cut it out Thorn... the rider silently retorted. You're not helping.

The dragon rolled his eyes and blew a puff of smoke, before turning his attention back to the almost stoic and dominant figure of Saphira.

Ever since the arrival of the red pair, the lovely sapphire scaled female dragon had acted as if it were her personal duty to take charge of watchdogging his every move. Thorn grinned. He was fine with the situation, and enjoyed the female's close scrutiny. It was also amusing to throw the 'slightly elder' dragoness a few well placed, subtle jests, and watch her react with vexation. Of course, at the moment, she was pretending to ignore him completely, which only made his dragon-smile deepen. She was much better company than Shruikan.

Yes, he thought to himself, gratitude bubbling up within him at the feeling of freedom. Life has finally taken a turn in our favor.

They'll never accept us Thorn... Murtagh crashed in on the dragon's happy musings. We'll be lucky if they agree to allow us to live.

In his mind he sent the dragon images from a week earlier as proof of his claim.

.

A blue dragoness was tearing across the sky, heading in their direction with a furious warrior on her back. It seemed that anger was fueling the blue pair's speed, and they were gaining on the ruby pair rapidly.

Prepare to pay for the deaths of our masters, the sapphire dragoness snarled, as they closed in.

"Don't assume that our slow retreat to means that we are defenseless..." the red rider cautioned the approaching pair, "for we have just lead you both beyond the reach of your spellcasting elves."

Eragon practically snarled, but a hint of uncertainty flashed briefly in his eyes before his fury returned.

"We don't need help to dispose of weakling traitors like yourselves... killing Oromis while he was defenseless..." Eragon choked on his words as he stumbled through his overpowering emotions. "Cowards!"

Murtagh cringed as much from his brother's vehemence as from his accusations. For it hadn't been the red rider who struck the old rider dead... but who would believe him... Everyone saw his hands commit the murder.

"Don't speak of things you know nothing about," the red rider warned with a dangerous intensity.

"I know what I saw... Murderer," Eragon spat. "Now it is you who will die!"

The blue rider raised his sword ready to renew the attack, and the red rider reached for his weapon as well... only it was not Zar'roc that he pulled out. It was a dazzling green ovoid, with golden flecks and ivory ribbon-like veins adorning it. It's surface fairly glowed in the midmorning light... the green egg.

Eragon and Saphira were stunned by the sight, and only grudgingly drew their gaze back to the threat of the red pair.

"What kind of game are you playing at?"

"I'm free brother..." Murtagh said evenly, dropping the iron mask of indifference that he usually wore when facing the blue pair. A haunting look crossed his features as he recalled the price of that freedom...

"Eka ilerneo du thorta... We are both free... Thorn and I... and so is the last dragon egg."

Somehow Murtagh was not surprised to see Eragon's face harden in spite of the revelation. Even as forgiving as the blue rider was, too much hurt had passed between them for things to ever be the same.

"Land," Eragon ordered pointing to a deserted clearing. "But know this son of Morzan... Nothing has changed between us. For what you've done, I will hate you forever."

"So be it," Murtagh answered quietly. And with those words the red rider reclaimed his mask of indifference, and the wall around his heart refortified.

.

Sounds of the crowd pulled Murtagh's attention back to the present. Murmurings of the multitude of onlookers, seemed to grow more and more ominous as they waited for the council to unveil their ruling. For the return of the officiates to the podium clearly signaled that they had come to a decision. No smiles were seen on the faces of the officials, and to Murtagh that spoke volumes. There would be no place here for the escaped forsworn and his scaled companion.

With a well practiced grace, a grace that defied her youth, the Varden leader rose to her feet, and a hush swept over the crowd. Nasuada was aware that whatever the council's choice, it would be ultimately her responsibility, and if anything went wrong, she would be the first to be blamed. Drawing herself up, her eyes found the red rider and she held her expression of authority as she delivered the verdict.

"Murtagh Morzansson," she said with a clear and adamant voice, "It has been decided. You and Thorn will be examined by a representative of every race, and should we feel that we can trust you, then you will provisionally be allowed to reside with us, and join our cause."

The look of horror on Murtagh's face was quickly concealed by a wall of vehement anger. His heart pounded so fiercely that Thorn momentarily feared for his rider's life... forced examinations?... and not just one but... how many?...

"Never," Murtagh hissed through clenched teeth. "You ask too much of us. We will not submit."

Dark eyes flashed at the rebellious words of the enemy rider, and Nasuada's matter-a-fact tone deepened to a deadly serious one.

"You have no choice in this matter... not this time," she added thinking about his previous imprisonment at the hands of the Varden. It took a great effort on her part, but Nasuada refused to let her eyes soften as she briefly recalled the past. At that time, Murtagh had chosen death rather than to be examined. But the rebels couldn't take any chances this time. Too much was at stake to let the rider's pride get in the way of their chance of victory. Morzansson would submit, and the red pair would either be accepted... or executed.

Some in the council had argued that execution was the only acceptable outcome, but Eragon had pressed his half brother's cause with as much determination as she had ever seen.

In fact, the Varden leader was still feeling astonishment at the riders support of the enemy, for even as he pleaded his brother's cause, she could see the underlying struggle that he was dealing with.

.

"I don't like it any more than most of you do... He is the enemy... He has destroyed our trust, and given away our secrets to the empire... He has broken his word, and turned to join with our enemy... He has killed our comrades, our kin, our king..."

The murmurs of agreement become a crescendo of voices and emotions, and Eragon waited for silence before continuing.

"But tell me... who among you is strong enough to holdout against the king... and his power... and his torture? Who of you has the to power to defy the mental attacks of the one who was able to break the riders of old?"

At first there was a stunned silence, but then a bold voice spoke up.

"I would have chosen death over bowing to that filth of a king..."

"Perhaps..." Eragon mused thoughtfully, his eyes meeting each of the council members one by one. "But if he had chosen death, we would not have the green egg in our possession right now... If he had chosen death, we would not have another able bodied dragon and rider willing to help us fight against the tyrant... and if he had chosen death, we would now be far worse off... For it would have been Galbatorix that I faced on the Burning Plains, and he would have showed me no mercy. The king would have taken me to Uru'baen, and there would have been no hope left of standing against him. We may not agree with Murtagh's choice, we may wish things had been different, but what matters most is now... and what we choose to do with the opportunity that is now in our grasp. I say we consider it... carefully."

.

The shadeslayer's words had startled Nasuada with their logic, and he even seemed to have convinced himself with his impassioned speech. The entire council had been impressed as well, leading to a more effectual deliberation. The resulting proposition was no guarantee, but as it had been the only agreeable compromise presented, and it would have to do.

Nasuada had to raise her voice over the vocal objections of the people, for many were incensed over the rider's refusal to cooperate.

"You both will be examined," she stated emphatically over the din, and as the grumbling diminished, her tone returned to normal.

"However, as a courtesy, we will allow you to approve of the representatives that are chosen to be your judges."

Oh, great! I get to choose who violates my heart and mind... Murtagh's sarcastic thoughts were never voiced aloud, but most could read his feelings in his iron expression.

I accept, the ruby dragon agreed cheerfully, his mind open to everyone within range of his boisterous thoughts. Murtagh turned his disbelieving scowl on his ruby partner causing Eragon's face to burst into a grin. The blue rider wasn't quite sure what he found more amusing... the red dragon's easy nature, or his brother's flustered aggravation.

Come on my reckless one... this is our chance... Why are you being so stubborn?...

I know I will never be accepted, Thorn, no matter what I do. So why should I submit to this... this assault? Perhaps, if I thought there was a chance...

You still wouldn't agree to their request, the dragon observed solemnly. You are too prideful. You are too angry... Murtagh, if they only knew the truth, they would understand... What is it you're afraid of?

The rider pondered his dragon's words, though he wanted nothing more than to deny or ignore them. His silence only proved the dragon's point, and though Murtagh spoke no reply, his dragon felt the answer nonetheless.

You fear that even when they know the truth, you will still be rejected...

I don't fear it, Thorn... I know it. All of this will gain me nothing.

Perhaps Murtagh... But you have to try. You can't fight the king alone. You need them, and they need you... And I want to stay. I want to know the water scales better. I want to see the green egg hatch to a happy life. Do this for me... please...

The emotions in his dragon's pleading tugged at him somewhere inside. Thorn was only six months old... or was it seven... and in his brief existence he had gained much wisdom, and felt much pain, but the ruby dragon still seemed young and naive to his cynical rider.

Thorn, what good will come of baring my soul to them when I know they will never accept the truth?...

At least you will know that you did everything you could to reach out to them... You will know that if they still reject you, that it was a result of their own small minds and hard hearts, and not because you were too afraid of rejection to even let them see who they were rejecting.

Truth, unavoidable and undeniable crashed upon the red rider like a tsunami wave. Caught and powerless in the dragon's insightful logic, Murtagh could no longer refuse. Did he want to continue to stand firm against the unfair intrusion? Certainly. Did he still resent the council for their unconscionable verdict? Utterly. Was he convinced that his further humiliation would accomplish nothing? Undoubtedly. But in spite of all this, Murtagh came to a to a decision. He chose to try.

"Fine," the rider spoke finally, responding through gritted teeth. "I accept."

Murtagh's intensely accusing eyes found his brother's, but Eragon was suddenly grinning, completely relieved by the outcome, in spite of the red rider's obviously antagonistic mood.

Only three days had passed, but to Murtagh it had felt like months. And now it was all over, and the entire assembly had returned to the same spot to hear the verdict of the judges. King Orik of the dwarves, Arya Drottingu of the elves, Eragon of the riders, Saphira of the dragons, Nasuada of the race of humans, and interestingly enough Roran Stronghammer had been chosen to represent the urgals... all had witnessed the exposing of the red rider.

Even though Murtagh had accepted, the whole thing had been done under protest, and he continued to resent the forced intrusion. But his brother had tried to be as respectful as possible. Eragon was the one who had accessed Murtagh's mind, and he had linked what he found to the other 'judges,' exposing only those memories that had been needed to secure their trust, and answer the specific charges of each individual.

It was a grueling three days worth of struggle for Murtagh, though for Thorn's part, it had been quick and easy, as he was generous and forthright with his point of view. The dragon was truly amazed at his rider's staunch resistance, for he knew that Murtagh had little if anything to hide from them.

Even during Murtagh's examination, Thorn had witnessed his rider struggle against Eragon's efforts. Gaining entrance to his deeper more heavily protected thoughts and feeling had been the hardest part of the challenge, and the ruby dragon recalled the conflict.

.

The younger brother was starting to feel frustrated with the elder. Many memories were perfectly accessible to him, such as those of his mother, but when he tried to ascertain any of his brother's feelings, he ran into a barrier of cold dark polished marble. At least that was what it seemed to be.

Murtagh... you said you'd accepted this... stop fighting me. Eragon's mind words were laced with irritation. I'm trying to help you here.

You don't need to give them everything... I've shown you the surface, and you've seen my intentions... What more do you require of me, brother?

Look Murtagh, you can't expect them to be satisfied with just 'surfacey' answers. They have deep wounds, and they won't accept any response that doesn't reflect that... They need to know how you feel... They need to see into your heart.

Eragon looked long and hard at his brother, willing him to give in, and after a few tormented moments, Murtagh met his eyes and a frown twisted his already sour expression.

"I don't have a heart..." he whispered audibly, through gritted teeth. But then looking away, the red rider finally released his defenses, bearing his soul to his brother's searching.

.

Murtagh had hated himself for surrendering, and had done his best to block out everything that his brother viewed. He hadn't want to see it again. He hadn't want to feel it again. All he'd wanted was to just get out from under the nightmares, but instead he'd been forced to re-live them all over.

Unlike his rider, Thorn relished the chance to set the record straight. Much of his memories had flowed like a fountain, and there was nothing lacking. In fact, he had provided quite an abundance of images depicting his and Murtagh's torturous stay under the king's care, even memories from before his hatching that his partner had given him early on. And it was the dragon's memories, more-so than the rider's reluctant efforts, that had swayed the council decision in favor of receiving the ruby pair.

There were still hard feelings, that was to be sure, but no one seeing those memories could ever imagine that the son of Morzan had chosen his path. Even Eragon had been shocked by what he had seen. Murtagh had fought the king with all of his ability, he had been broken and enslaved, and had been used against his will... And even here with the Varden, he was having his private thoughts exposed for judgment... violated once again... and Eragon recognized the resentment burning within the red rider.

Looking around, Eragon saw the faces of the other 'judges' trying to come to terms with the images and feelings that they had witnessed. Arya alone looked unmoved, but the mask of hatred that she had previously worn when looking at the red rider had fallen away, to be replaced by her normal calm demeanor. Most everyone else appeared to be hovering somewhere between shock and confusion.

Then the blue rider spied his brother who had fixed his unwaveringly angry stare on a distant hillside. Cool blue eyes bored relentlessly at anything... anything other than the witnesses that had invaded his mind, and were now poised to lay down his sentence in front of all of the officials of the combined races. Eragon watched his brother flinch as the announcement began.

"The council has deliberated and come to a conclusion..." said a male voice, and after clearing his throat, he continued. "Thorn, dragon of Murtagh, you are found 'not guilty' of any deed laid at your charge."

The dragon puffed his chest out, pleased with the turn of the verdict, and sent a wave of gratitude spilling out for all who were willing to receive it. His time at Uru'baen had taught him to keep all thoughts and feelings hidden, and now that he was free, he was experimenting with his self expression. He felt good and wanted everyone to know.

The speaker paused as he felt the unusual sensation of the dragon's feelings washing over him. Considering what his next words were going to be, he sincerely hoped that he would not find himself the recipient of the dragon anger as well. Turning towards the red rider, the now nervous announcer swallowed hard before continuing.

"Murtagh, son of Morzan, you are found 'guilty' of being unable to resist the false king, Galbatorix. Because of this weakness, the counsel had generously chosen not to press charges for the many numerous and heinous acts committed by you on the peoples of Alagaesia and most specifically on the Varden."

Eragon almost looked away, as he saw Murtagh's jaw tighten at the mention of 'weakness.' The blue rider had been unable to talk the Varden elders out of using this particularly accusing and humiliating phrasing. But as he had been able to convince them to drop all the charges, he was too relieved to press the issue over the wording.

"And so, it is the decision of this council that you may remain with us, under the charge of Eragon Shadeslayer and Saphira Brightscales. This is a 'privilege' that you will lose the instant we see any sign of betrayal. Is that understood and accepted?"

The dragon hummed agreement, while sending calming waves of comfort to his rider. It truly puzzled the dragon to see the ill regard these people showed his rider. He had supposed that all would see the truth, and embrace the efforts of his amazing, if sometimes melodramatic rider.

Murtagh... at least they've accepted us... We can stay and help kill the king.

It was long moments before the rider responded to the official's 'generous' offer. Murtagh ached, knowing that he had not been truly accepted, and that he was never likely to be truly accepted. He was Morzan's son. Without turning to face them, the red rider drew a tired breath and replied.

"I understand... and I accept... Vel eïnradhin iet ai Shur'tugal."

Murtagh had no idea if anyone in the gathering saw him as a rider, or as one who would honor his word, but somehow he did not really care. None of this was about his happiness or comfort. It was about one thing and one thing only... the destruction of Galbatorix. And to that end, Murtagh was prepared to endure almost anything. Determination stole his previous expression, and he drew his attention back to his immediate surroundings... the stunned crowd surrounding him. This must not have been the decision they'd expected, as silence followed the announcer's proclamation, and settled in the open arena.

It was a strange location, just outside of town. And it had ample viewing on three of the four sides. The back section was a wall that amplified sound. That and the large stone dais that held the official entourage, made the red rider suspect this place was normally used for civic, political or possibly entertainment purposes.

Whatever its customary function was, it seemed that none of the crowd dared to take the formidable one-foot-high step and ascend to the stage. They just stared at him with varyingly degrees of hatred and fear, as he let his indifferent eyes drift over them.

Then he saw her... dark hair... blue eyes... innocent face... her forehead creased with worry and a profound sadness. It looked to Murtagh like the girl feared for the end of the world and all she loved. He briefly wondered what it was that she had lost to cause her such despair, and why it was that he had provoked such a reaction. What had he done to her...

The moment was fleeting. Shock and panic changed the girl's features as she realized the rider's gaze had found and fixed on her, and she turned and fled, disappearing into the crowd.

Somewhere within that fleeting exchange, Murtagh felt his heart kick in... starting to pump blood in his veins. Not that it hadn't been beating before, but he hadn't been able to feel it. Long ago it had been closed off to deaden the pain and anguish that was his daily existence. And now... it was beating again... throbbing really... flooding him with pain and guilt, and something more... And the rider wasn't at all sure that he approved the change.

The red rider was still trying to process these feelings, when from the corner of his vision, he saw Eragon start to cross the large platform toward him. But he did not think he could face his younger brother just then, and in an impromptu move, the rider turned and left the stunned gathering, making his way through the surrounding crowd, and testing, for the first time, the bounds of his newfound freedom.

Eragon gaped openly at his brother's departure, but sighed and decided to give him some time.

Both dragons had been watching from behind the sound-wall, but it was still easy to forget they were there due to the immense size of the gathering.

Thank you little rider, the ruby scaled dragon told Eragon. The blue rider looked up at him in surprise, not having expected this contact. But then he half-smiled at the title Thorn had given him, and nodded in reply.

Murtagh might not say it now, Thorn smiled back, but he is grateful... and so am I.

A/N: Oh, and WildSkySong's "Edoc'sil" posted two new chappies?... Her works can be found in my favorites. But I warn you if you haven't yet read her amazing stories, you should begin with her "Eldunari" which is the first half of this incredible work. Enjoy!

I love FanFiction... :D