Just Bumming Around {Closed}

[.::Thorn::.]

Bored, That was the only thought that came to Thorns mind, He sat coiled like a snake on his cushion in the middle of Murtagh's quarters. His Rider had been in meetings all day and had told the dragon that he was on his way back to his room. Thorn looked outside at the dreary rainstorm that poured is contents into the air. He snorted angrily and watched the smoke that came from his nostrils twist and thread through the air. In the corner of the room sat the half eaten carcass of a mule deer that he had killed earlier. He would have eaten all of it but somewhere in the middle he lost his appetite.

He looked up as a rattle on the door signaled the entrance of his Rider, and hopefully the end of his boredom.

[Ashkii]

OOC//: Well, my first post at Erisdar. ^^
Sorry it’s so bad and short, Nathan! ;__;
Quit rushing me!

BIC//:

Meetings. Always with the damn meetings. It was as if Galbatorix’s newest form of punishment was sending him to conferences every day. Five yesterday, seven the day before that. Already there had been six today. It wasn’t as if the meetings were interesting either. They were either about new battle strategies, information about Eragon and Saphira, or the Varden. Murtagh didn’t care about any of those things, although he did catch himself listening whenever he heard his brother’s name. But other than that, all he had to do was stare at the marble table that stretched for miles. Many important people attended the gatherings, and at first, Murtagh had felt honored to be a part of the talks. But now, seeing that Galbatorix himself skipped out on most of the meetings, Murtagh felt like a fool.

After one of the captains finished speaking and he heard the scraping of chairs as people stood up, Murtagh sighed and lifted his head. He rubbed his eyes, drowsy. He had nodded off a few times and hoped no one had noticed. The young man was relieved to see no one was staring at him. Not that anyone would anyway. He had fallen asleep so many times it was no longer a shock to the men – and the occasional woman - when they saw he wasn’t paying attention. The captain who had talked most of the meeting stepped forward as Murtagh stood up. The other man was young, just newly promoted to the captain position, and was obviously in awe of the dragon rider. Murtagh extended his hand, and shook the captain’s hand. He noticed how weak the other man’s grip was and couldn’t help but marvel at his own strength.

Others came up to make small talk with him and he humored them for a while. He was used to the idiotic chatter and although he wanted to leave that instant, he knew he had to stay. Galbatorix would not be so kind if he found out Murtagh had been rude. After five minutes of one nobleman talking about ‘peasant revolts this, and peasant revolts that’ he heard a thunderous growl in his head. ’Tell that fat idiot to shut up. Get back here. You’ve been gone all day.’

Leave it to Thorn to make this boring conversation amusing. Murtagh hid a smile and instead chuckled as the nobleman slapped his shoulder as he too let out a booming laugh. Murtagh had missed the joke the man had told, but his amusement was enough to trick the fool. ”Thorn, I’m coming as quickly as I can. But you know Galbatorix’s rules on etiquette.” His dragon growled back, but he didn’t argue. He knew.

So finally, after another agonizing five minutes, Murtagh was able to escape the conference room. He breathed a sigh of relief as he shut the door behind him, and then quickly turned towards his room. It was a three minute walk back to his chamber, but it felt like an eternity. As he walked quickly down the empty hallway, Murtagh noticed it was raining outside. How embarrassing he hadn’t been aware of it before. The thought of riding Thorn out in the gale excited the young man, but he knew his dragon didn’t like a lot of rain. Oh well…another time.

And finally, he was standing in front of his room. Murtagh breathed a sigh of relief as he reached up to open the door. Forgetting it was locked, he pushed against it uselessly. ”Oh damn,” he cursed before reaching in his pocket. Murtagh didn’t know why he locked his door – he had a dragon to guard his room for God’s sake – but he did, every time he left. Old habits die hard, he supposed. Finally, after a few moments of searching, he found the tiny brass key and unlocked the door.

The first thing he saw as soon as he pushed the door open was Thorn, sitting upon his cushion like a giant cat. Murtagh cast a small smirk his dragon’s way before looking towards the half eaten deer. ”Why?” he asked, turning to face the beast. Murtagh knew his friend would finish the carcass before it would begin to stink too much, but he liked teasing the dragon. ”You’re a thousand pound dragon and you can’t even finish a small deer? You’re pathetic, Thorn.”

He stifled his laughter when Thorn’s nostrils let out smoke and a deep growl rumbled in his chest. The dragon rider knew his companion wouldn’t hurt him and wasn’t truly mad, but it was amusing all the same. With a sigh, Murtagh unhooked Zar’roc from his back and set it on the table that lay close to his bed. If it were up to him, he wouldn’t even carry the sword around. It wasn’t like he couldn’t fight without it. But Galbatorix insisted it sent an important message and therefore ordered Murtagh to wear it at all times. ”My back’s been bothering me today,” he told Thorn, as he undid the buttons on his tunic. He knew Thorn would have already sensed his discomfort, and perhaps that was the reason for his impatience today. Usually, the dragon was much more uncomplaining when he had meetings.

Murtagh threw the shirt onto the bed and headed towards the mirror and washbasin. He turned and examined his back in the mirror, hoping to find the source of his pain. The scar was still as evident as ever, and his back usually didn’t bother him, but today, for some odd reason, it ached. Murtagh stretched his hands out before him and twisted, hoping to ease the tension. ”It’s probably from sitting so long. Do you think?” His dragon might have the answer. He usually did. Murtagh looked at himself one more time, decided he needed to shave, and then turned away.

”Could be lack of exercise,” he continued to muse aloud, looking to Thorn. ”With all these meetings I haven’t had time to spar in a couple of days. Or practice my magic, for that matter.” He gingerly bent over to touch his toes, wincing as a sharp pain slid down his spine. After staying in that position for a few moments he finally stood straight, grimacing. With a loud sigh he slowly walked over to Thorn, plopping down on the cushion next to the dragon’s leg. ”So, you know that I was in meetings all day. Did you pay attention to any of them?” Murtagh patted Thorn’s leg, feeling sorry for the dragon. At least he was allowed to go places in the castle. All the beast was permitted to do was hunt, and even that time was limited. ”What did you do today?” Murtagh asked. He knew he should have already known due to their bond, but to be honest, the meetings weren’t the only things he had learned not to pay attention to.

[.::Thorn::.]

Thorn hummed contentedly as his companion sat down beside him and rubbed his side. It calmed his mind to be with Murtagh. He looked outside and sensed his partners desire to fly. Thorn growled at the thought of rain but decided it would be good for the two of them. "I went hunting today, You should know that." The dragon looked at his Rider and grunted. "Go fetch my saddle. Lets go flying." He growled to his Rider.

He watched his Rider go into the back room to get the saddle and while he was doing that Thorn snapped up the rest of the deer he had started before. He watched his Rider walk back into the main room with the saddle. Thorn stood to his full height and waited while Murtagh put the saddle on his back. He knelt so it woulden't cause his Rider's back any more discomfort. "I blame our not being allowed to fly for your back, We haven't flown for the fun of it for a long time" He said kindly as his Rider climbed into the saddle and buckled his legs into his saddle. Thorn walked to the window that was made for him to fly in and out of. He dove off the ledge and opened his wings. He hated the rain but now, He was enjoying himself. The rain was cooling him and he needed to clean his scales anyway. This was good for the both of them.

[Ashkii]

<sup>The sound of Thorn’s humming brought him some peace and the tension from his back and the day seemed to melt away. Murtagh closed his eyes and put his arms up above his head to rest more comfortably against Thorn’s chest. The dragon’s slowly moving sides rising up and down was a peaceful feeling, and if Thorn hadn’t had other ideas, Murtagh would have been content to sit there for a while. He might have been able to fall asleep. The young man could tell Thorn was just as comfortable as he and that made him smile. It was times like this that made him thankful for his capture. If he hadn’t been taken by the Twins, then he wouldn’t be with Thorn. His dragon might have hatched for someone else if he hadn’t gotten to him first. The thought made him angry and he clenched his fists. But Thorn breathed upon his rider, sensing his irritation, and Murtagh calmed.

He looked up at Thorn as he told him about hunting. Thorn had gone hunting? Geese, he should have known that. Murtagh felt guilty. He shouldn’t have been ignoring Thorn so much, even if he was trying to not pay attention to the meetings. His efforts were making him forget the one thing that mattered most to him: his dragon. ”You’re right, Thorn. I’m sorry.” He patted the dragon’s leg again and sighed, feeling sad and burdened once more.

Was this what their life was going to consist of? Murtagh didn’t know if he stand it for much longer. Despite the occasional battle or mission he was sent to aid or go on, the meetings was all he ever did. Time alone with Thorn was becoming rarer and rarer and both were feeling the effects. Irritation was a mild term for the sentiments they harbored for Galbatorix. Thorn could obviously sense his annoyance growing and with a loud grunt, the dragon nudged him.

Flying? Murtagh turned around to look at his dragon with surprise. He knew how much Thorn hated the weather when it was like this, especially for flying. He couldn’t help but feel even guiltier than before. His friend was trying to make him feel better, even though it should have been the other way around. Besides, though he hadn’t thought of it before, Galbatorix might not like them flying around the city. Even though the people knew he and his dragon existed, they certainly did not trust him or Thorn. Galbatorix didn’t want – and it was highly unlikely – them to be hurt by a well shot arrow, or something. Besides, Galbatorix probably figured he had more control over the two of them by limiting their time together.

But Murtagh didn’t argue with Thorn, and he slowly made his way towards the saddle. It seemed heavier than usual as he lifted it onto the dragon’s back. After securing it, he stepped back to make sure it truly was safe and sound. ”Looks ready,” he murmured, more to himself than to his dragon. But even if he had been speaking to Thorn, he doubted he would have been heard over the beast’s chewing. Murtagh chuckled softly as he noticed his friend finishing his meal, the crunching of bones filling the quiet room. At first, the dragon’s eating habits had disgusted him, but with time he had grown to accept it.

Thorn knelt down as soon as he had finished the meal, and Murtagh almost climbed up on his friend’s back before he remembered he was shirtless. It might not be a good idea to enter that gale half naked, he decided. So, rushing towards his bed, he picked up the tunic and quickly pulled it up and over his head. As he headed back towards his dragon he did up a few of the buttons, but was so eager to fly he didn’t finish before he was clambering up onto Thorn’s back. Before he was even done buckling his legs, Thorn took off, his great wings pushing him up and out of the window. Apparently, Murtagh wasn’t the only one eager to be away from their room.

As Thorn’s flying became steady, Murtagh leaned down to continue buckling his legs in. It’s not like he really needed to. Even if he fell Thorn could catch him, and if he really needed to use it, magic could always save him. Besides, the well toned muscles in his legs were enough to keep him secure anyway. But it was always better to be safe than sorry, and Murtagh had always been cautious.

When he had finished strapping his legs in, Murtagh truly let go. He let himself forget that he was Galbatorix’s slave, that he was bored out of his mind, that Eragon was now his enemy. The rain felt good on his back as it seeped through the fabric of his shirt, and though he soon began to grow cold, the feeling of excitement and freedom let him ignore it. After a few minutes of enjoying the peace and quiet, save the occasional clap of thunder, Murtagh leaned against Thorn’s warm neck scales and murmured, ”So, what made you want to fly? I know you hate this much rain.” Over the pitter-patter of the rain the dragon might not have been able to hear even with his excellent hearing, but the message was reinforced as Murtagh sent it mentally.

Murtagh was pretty sure he knew the answer to the question though. Thorn cared about Murtagh a great deal, and it pained the dragon to see his rider so depressed and in pain. He felt the same way about Thorn, but didn’t know how to make it better. Thorn always claimed he was content with life and whenever Murtagh was happy, so was he. But Murtagh didn’t accept that answer. ”Do you ever dream about being free of Galbatorix?” he asked his dragon mentally, without waiting for an answer to his first question. ”I know you do. Don’t deny it. I do too. But I mean…what would you like to do first if you were free?”

The young man closed his eyes and thought about what he’d like to do. He smiled, deciding he’d like to spar with Eragon again… besides spending time with Thorn. Though they had fought a few times after Murtagh’s capture, it wasn’t the same brotherly connection they had had before. Eragon had been Murtagh’s only friend before Thorn came along and Murtagh missed their friendship more than his freedom. He clutched Thorn’s scales fiercely, worried he would lose his dragon too. Murtagh wasn’t sure he could take it if it happened.</sup>

[/sup]

[.::Thorn::.]

Thorn blinked as the cold rain hit his scales. He felt his Riders mind relax as the cold rain poured down on the pair. Thorn too felt his mind begin to relax as the ice water ran into the small gaps between his scales, washing away the filth of weeks without washing. He had not been able to get to a lake in the recent days due to his being confined to the castle with lessons from Shruikan and then there were Murtagh's pathetic meetings. Other then hunting and his lessons he rarely left the castle anymore. And he just wanted to burn the damned place to the ground and kill that bastard of a man that they were bound to. But alas he knew that would do no good. Instead he contented himself with keeping his Rider and himself happy by flying. And come to think of it now that he was flying through this downpour. It did not bother him as much as he thought it would.

Thorn banked to the left and climbed through the low clouds into the clear sky where no rain fell he leveled off and gently flapped his large leathery wings to keep him aloft before he answered his partners questions. the first of which was the reason he has decided to go flying in the rain. "I needed to streach my wings after being sedentary for so long." The dragon gave his excuse, His Rider of course knew that it was because he wanted to cheer up the young man. The dragon snorted as he flew through a cloud that covered him and his Rider in a cold mist. He loosed a tounge of blue flame into the cloud in order to make the cloud dissipate, and it did.

Thorn grunted a little as he contemplated Murtaghs next question, What would he do first when he got free? He always thought in terms of when he got free, not if he got free because he was confident in his hope that they would someday be free of the tyrant that controlled their lives. "I suppose I would have my first good nights sleep since I hatched, instead of being haunted by memories that I never experienced." The dragon grunted. And with that thought he wondered when Galbatorix would send his blasted black monster of a dragon after them to force them back into confinement. "What are you going to do first when we get free?" He felt his partner gripping the scales on his neck tightly and his mind began to eminate concern for loosing his dragon, to which Thorn sent calming thoughts to his partner. "I will never leave you little one, Never! I will not be taken from you by any means that I can fight, And I will never leave your mind when you are away from me. I promise you my friend, Never."

[Ashkii]

<sup>Thorn certainly was good at giving excuses. Murtagh stifled a chuckle at the dragon’s lame excuse for wanting to fly. It warmed the rider’s heart that his friend cared so much about him, and the man promised he would start being more attentive to the beast’s needs from then on. Thorn didn’t deserve to be pushed aside. The dragon was just as trapped and tortured as he was, and it was time Murtagh stopped focusing on himself. He patted Thorn’s neck, but still kept his firm grip, still holding on to the silly worry that if he let go, his dragon would disappear.

Murtagh felt a sigh of contentment escape his lips though, as he looked down to gaze at the dark clouds that lay below them. They were purple and full with rain, angry lightning bolts shooting out from their depths. If he were smarter, the young man would have been slightly afraid, but instead he wondered what made lightning and how it was created. Was it the fabled gods some peasants bowed down to, or was it simply a marvel of nature, as the elves claimed? The rider wiped water from his brow to stop it from running into his eyes and he grinned, wondering when he had become such an intellectual. Murtagh remembered when he had only cared about fulfilling basic human needs. Now that he was under Galbatorix’s control, he had time to mull life over.

In a way, the rider appreciated that gift. He had never realized how idiotic he was before he had begun to read faithfully, despite the teachings he had received as a boy. When he wasn’t spending time with Thorn, sparring, practicing magic, or in one of the damned meetings, Murtagh found himself reading books and scrolls on whatever interested him. Even Thorn, at times, was fascinated in the knowledge Murtagh gathered from the tomes.

As Murtagh thought of and pictured one of his favorite books, he felt Thorn’s mind relax even more. A flame, blue as Saphira’s scales, shot from the red dragon’s maw to dissolve a cloud in front of them, and Murtagh couldn’t help but laugh aloud. At the sound of the human’s amusement, the beast below him grunted before answering the question Murtagh had posed a moment before. The rider listened with a growing smile as Thorn told him what he would like to do once they were free.

A night of sleep, just the two of them, without having to worry what they would be ordered to do the next day would be nice! The thought of it made Murtagh’s heart ache. Though the rider had been born into Galbatorix’s clutches, he had been able to escape for a short time. Thorn however, had been trapped his entire life, small as it was. The young man patted the dragon’s neck again, feeling unwanted tears spring to his eyes.

Thorn sensed his rider’s distress and he sought to calm the man. Murtagh listened to Thorn as one lone tear rolled silently down his cheek. The dragon was right of course. They would fight tooth and nail to stay together. Besides, the rider realized, his misery would only make Galbatorix happy, and that was something Murtagh was not willing to give to the king. Murtagh gently released his firm grip from his companion’s scales, showing the dragon that he believed what he said and was feeling better.

In fact, he was feeling much better. The short adventure from the castle had been enough to clear Murtagh’s head and destroy the growing hopelessness that had lodged itself in the young man’s heart. Running a hand through his dark brown hair, the man flashed a smile towards Thorn, knowing the dragon would feel his elation. ”The first thing I will do?” he finally responded, rubbing his hand over his chin. The rider was reminded that he needed to shave, and he couldn’t help but grin at his wandering thoughts.

”Well, besides spending every moment with you and showing you how wonderful life can be without being some bastard’s puppet… well, to be honest, I’d really like to…” A lump became lodged in his throat, and Murtagh tried to clear it. The man wasn’t sure if his sudden nervousness was because he was embarrassed, but it seemed like it was true. What would Thorn care? But Murtagh worried his dragon wouldn’t approve of his wish, or would laugh and make fun of him.

The rider bit his lip in nervousness, looking down at Thorn as he mentally sent, ”I would like to be friends with Eragon again. I enjoyed sparring with him before we became…enemies,”</sup>

[/b] Murtagh admitted, shrugging his shoulders even though the beast couldn’t see the movement. He awaited the impending laughter and jeering with grit teeth. Whatever Thorn thought of his wishes, he still hoped they would come true.
[/sup][/center]

[.::Thorn::.]

Thorn heard the thought and contemplated it for moment. A few months ago he would have laughed at his Rider for holding on to such a sentiment. But now that he thought about it, he would enjoy a friendship with Saphira. Though they had never actually spoken at length she seemed kind and friendly. He knew that she would never take him as a mate but none the less he would very much enjoy being her friend.
"A noble thought young one. I would also enjoy being friends and sparring with Saphira." He spoke to his Rider. He looked back over his shoulder at the young Rider and then back at the castle, curious as to why the king hadn't demanded them to return at once. While he did not take well to the idea of being tortured, he felt that he would defy the old man until he came after them himself.

"Murtagh, Do you suppose, If we could get to the Elven city and got through their wards or had them let us in. Do you think that those same wards that prevent us from entering the forest would protect us from Galbatorix's power over us?" While he doubted it would work and he knew that if the king found those thoughts in his mind he would certainly have them tortured for it, the dragon always contemplated the thought, sometimes for hours on end. Normally when he was bored or had nothing of any importance to do he thought of how he could escape from the king.

[Ashkii]

<sup>Murtagh had to admit that he was nervous for his dragon’s reply. Though Thorn was his best friend and his lifelong companion, and though they got along famously most of the time, his dragon always poked fun and knew just the right ways to make him angry. The rider could hear Thorn’s voice now, jeering at him for wanting to be friends with Eragon. It was a silly wish, one that would be a miracle if it came true, and Thorn was sure to know it. Besides, even if they somehow got free, why in the world would Eragon forgive them?

But it seemed his dragon realized that today was not the day to tease. Or maybe he had finally given in to the idea of retaining some hope. Being pessimistic for so long really wore down the spirit, Murtagh had found. Perhaps the dragon now understood it too. ”A noble thought young one. I would also enjoy being friends and sparring with Saphira.” Thorn then turned to gaze at him, and Murtagh saw the ancient wisdom deep in the beast’s eyes.

The rider felt another pang of guilt and sorrow for his friend. If Thorn hadn’t hatched for him, he wouldn’t be living like this. Sure, he’d still be in his egg, but that was neither here nor there. A life of imprisoned servitude was defiantly not befitting for such a magnificent creature, and Murtagh felt the remorse weighing heavily upon his heart. He would give anything to set Thorn free.

He reached out and patted Thorn’s great muzzle, hoping that his dragon understood and did not hate him for the life he had to live. Murtagh knew Thorn did not – he knew because Thorn had heard his thoughts before and had become angry with them – yet he could not shake the guilt. The connection between the two seemed so strong at that moment that Murtagh felt a smile fall onto his face. And it was a truly happy smile, for Murtagh knew that no matter what, he would always have Thorn by his side.

”It gives me strength to keep going,” he added aloud, knowing the dragon would have heard his thoughts. Murtagh smiled, even when Thorn turned to look at the castle. The rider was reminded that Galbatorix would realize they weren’t inside soon enough, and he bit his lip nervously. He didn’t want Thorn punished just because he had wanted to go outside for a joy ride. ”Should we go back?”</sup>

[/i] he asked, suddenly afraid to speak audibly.

It seemed Thorn was going to ignore his question though. Whatever Thorn was he wasn’t afraid, and the only reason he would go inside would be to protect his rider. Murtagh felt the same way about the dragon, yet he knew Thorn was much braver than he. Murtagh could practically feel the bravery oozing off the beast. It was a dragon thing.

”Murtagh, Do you suppose, If we could get to the Elven city and got through their wards or had them let us in. Do you think that those same wards that prevent us from entering the forest would protect us from Galbatorix's power over us?"

He rubbed a hand across his face, once again reminded he had to shave when they returned to their room. It wasn’t as if it mattered though. All he did was go to meetings. Who cared what he looked like? But the man hated the stubble that felt so rough and unforgiving even to his now numb hands. Shaking his head, Murtagh smiled at his absentmindedness. But his grin soon disappeared when he truly began to ponder Thorn’s question.

It was a good one, and though he had never sat down and thought about it excessively before, it had crossed his mind. Murtagh wondered if the elves would even begin to think about letting them into their home. He had committed terrible crimes, it was true, but could they find it in their hearts to forgive? Besides, he wouldn’t have done any of that if it hadn’t been for Galbatorix.

But that was only one problem. Even if the elves let them seek refuge in their great forest, would the wards work? Could they really keep an enraged Galbatorix out? Murtagh had grown accustomed to Galbatorix winning in every way. The king seemed to get what he wanted, when he wanted it. The rider couldn’t imagine the king not getting into Du Weldenvarden. Galbatorix just seemed that powerful to him.

He hadn’t gotten in yet, though. Why not? Was it just because he hadn’t tried hard enough? Or was it really because Galbatorix couldn’t get into the elves’ forest? Murtagh had to believe that that was the truth. It brought a surge of hope to Murtagh’s weary spirit, and he found that he was smiling again.

”I don’t really know,” he finally admitted to Thorn. ”Galbatorix hasn’t gotten in yet, but who’s to say he’s tried as hard as he can? It gives me hope to think that perhaps we could find peace and escape in their forest, though.” Murtagh leaned back, his arms stretched out behind his head, trying to generate some warmth. He bent and twisted his raised fingers and thought about Thorn’s question a bit more, wondering if they would have to conduct an experiment someday.

A suicidal experiment to be sure.

But, it sure would be an interesting one. Murtagh realized that he didn’t know what Thorn thought about his own question. He figured since the dragon had asked that he thought it could happen - the rider vaguely felt his dragon’s doubt with a mixture of hope about the idea - but Murtagh knew he should never assume he knew what the beast was thinking. ”Why, do you think it would work, Thorn? Should we just test this idea of yours so we don’t have to wonder?”

He laughed, but half of him was completely serious. And that’s what scared him.
[/sup][/center]

[.::Thorn::.]

OOC: For lack of Muse this thread is closed