Inheritance Cycle One Shots (edited and revised)

Burrow Grubs, in His Words

A/N: This occurs during the chapter Burrow Grubs, in Inheritance.

Burrow Grubs, in His Words

Murtagh stormed through the citadel's halls, knocking aside servants without so much as a word. A deathly fear had encompassed him as soon as Nasuada passed out, and it had taken all of his willpower to contain his emotion, for fear of Galbatrorix finding out. Now, with the king resigning to his private chambers, no doubt accompanied by a concubine or two, Murtagh rushed to the Hall of the Soothsayer. His concern was reflected in Thorn.

She'd better be all right. Murtagh growled, making a couple detours in order to ensure he was not being tailed.

I'm sure she will be, little brother. Thorn said, but his words did little to ease Murtagh's worry.

He stopped short before Nasuada's chamber, muttering a spell in order to unlock the door. It scraped open, and the stench of hurt immediately filled his nostrils.

The lighting of the hall cast queer shadows on the walls, and Murtagh's heart dropped at the sight of the woman within. Her once beautiful frame was wrecked, slight and small against the slab of stone on which she lay. Various fluids dripped onto the floor around her, and Murtagh longed to avert his eyes from the wounds her body bore. He did not, however, and forced himself to look upon them as punishment.

They were of his doing. It was because of him she had suffered so. Though Galbatorix may have been in control of his mind and body, Murtagh mentally lashed himself all the same. He could have been stronger.

Do not, brother. As it always did, Thorn's voice soothed Murtagh and brought calm into his thoughts. We cannot undo what has already been done, and your energy is better spent tending to her.

You are right. He agreed, and he looked back down to see Nasuada open her eyes.

A powerful anger welled within him at the sight of her broken body, and at that moment, he felt as if he could tear Shruikan to pieces with his bare hands.

It wouldn't be wise to try. Thorn commented upon witnessing his thoughts.

His rage simmered and subsided, overcome with concern for her welfare.

A fresh lance of concern harried Murtagh as Nasuada grimaced, and he clenched his jaw, struggling to contain himself.

"Try not to move." He cautioned, and then belatedly realized she couldn't anyhow. He alleviated her pain with magic as he usually did, wishing with all his might that he could do more. "I'm sorry," he said, regretful, "I can do no more. Galbatorix would know how, but it's beyond me."

"What…What about your Eldunarí?" She asked. "Surely they can help."

He shook his head. "Young dragons all, or they were when their bodies died. They knew little of magic then, and Galbatorix has taught them almost nothing since…I'm sorry." He truly was.

"Are those things still in me?"

"No! No they're not! Galbatorix removed them once you passed out," Murtagh assured her. The ache in his heart eased slightly as the sight of her relief.

"Your spell didn't stop the pain." Nasuada said, and he detected hints of anger in her speech.

He grimaced. "I'm not sure why." He admitted. "It ought to have. Whatever that creature is, it doesn't fit into the normal pattern of the world."

"Do you know where it's from?"

"No. I only learned of it today, when Galbatorix fetched it from his inner chambers." He watched as she closed her eyes for a moment. Despite the gauntness of her cheeks and multiple bruises, her face held a captivating beauty.

"Let me up."

Murtagh regarded her with doubt. "Are you s-"

"Let me up." She repeated.

Saying no more, he undid the straps that held her to the slab. She got to her feet and Murtagh stated with his muscles tensed, ready to catch her should she so much as trip. With deft swiftness, he undid his cape and handed it to her. The shift she wore was thin and ripped. Nasuada wrapped it around herself and limped to the edge of the chamber, leaning against the wall and lowering herself to the floor.

Murtagh joined her, and they both sat in silence, staring at the opposite wall.

He gritted his teeth in despair as she began to cry.

For a while he sat back, lost in the sounds of her torment as he willed tears of his own not to spill.

Feeling a deep-seated hatred toward himself, he reached out to brush her shoulder. The feeling only intensified when she jerked away.

He didn't blame her- he had caused her more hurt in the past few days than anyone else ever had. He loathed himself for it.

He sighed with relief as she took his hand, and he drew her weakened form against his body. She continued to cry, and he tightened his embrace. He shut his eyes for a moment and allowed himself to take solace in the fact that he held her in his arms.