Dunei - A Murtagh Love Story - Eldest Fan Fiction

Chapter 21

Author’s Note: So it’s been a year today since I first started writing down this story and I can’t believe the attention it’s gotten. I know it’s not the most popular, nor the best written, nor the most interesting story on this site, but considering that I decided to write this simply because I needed a hobby and decided to post it online so that I could feel that I was being held accountable to actually keep up a hobby, I’m very pleased with where it’s gotten to.

I had never expected anyone to read it, but I’m grateful to all those who do, and even more so to those who leave a comment about how they like it, or how to improve it, or even just send me a message to tell me to pull my finger out and update—you know who you are.

Thanks for staying with me.

*          *          *

   Lorena woke with a start.

   She pushed herself upright and glanced around the room. The partition to the courtyard was open as usual, and a slight cool breeze blew into the bedchamber. The room was murky, the only light emanating from the moon glowing off the marble dragon.

   With a sigh she collapsed back onto the bed, curling up on her right side and watching the dragon while she tried to remember what it was that she had dreamt. A weight shifted behind her and she held her breath, hoping luck was on her side.

   She heard the King grumble, then his movements ceased. Releasing the breath she had been holding she slipped out of the bed. She gave his sleeping form a glare then made her way to the fountain, where she sat on the wall and thought about what might have been if not for her and Murtagh’s capture and imprisonment.

*          *          *

   Murtagh studied Thorn as he got dressed. The dragon now reached up to his hip, with thick muscular hind legs bigger than his own thigh. As he watched, he turned a red eye on him, Murtagh.

   Yes, Thorn. Murtagh pulled on a boot and wondered if Galbatorix knew that Thorn had started to speak.

   Murtagh.

   And how long it would take for Thorn to increase his vocabulary.

*          *          *

   After her handmaidens left, carrying her breakfast tray, Lorena decided she had to see Murtagh again. The day before teased her, and now she felt that she had to talk to him, had to touch him. Now she understood how Murtagh had felt.

   She waited a few minutes before slipping out of the chambers. The hallway was clear and she turned left, then followed the path she believed she had taken during her last wonder through the castle. Hoping she wouldn’t be stopped by anyone Lorena nodded at anyone she passed, but hurried away before they could speak to her. It felt like hours had passed before she spotted a familiar form.

   Murtagh closed the door he had just emerged from and began walking away from her. With no one else in sight—but fearing that someone may be in ear shot—Lorena didn’t dare to call out. Instead she quickened her pace, cutting down the hall, trying to get in front of him before he got too far away. She had just stepped behind him when he suddenly stopped and spun.

   She stifled a cry as he grabbed her, eyes burning, before he recognised her. He glanced up and down the hall, then dragged her off through a door. Once inside Lorena pulled herself from his grip and surveyed the room. It appeared to be a dining hall, with an oak table and heavy chairs. The walls were dotted with lanterns, producing enough light to see by. She heard Murtagh behind her, whispering in the ancient language before a hand gripped her upper arm and spun her around, crushing her against a hard chest.