Dunei - A Murtagh Love Story - Eldest Fan Fiction

Chapter 06

For spiting your years of protection...

For denying my will...

For running away...

For spiting your years of protection...

For denying my will...

For running away...

For spiting your years of protection...

The words took on an endless rhythm. Whispered calmingly the words washed over Lorena, easing her into a trance of understanding and acceptance. Or would have if not for the anguished cries Murtagh emitted whenever the iron kissed him.

Lorena was unsure how long Murtagh was tormented before he fell into unconsciousness. The iron sizzled against his skin but no noise escaped his lips.

"Enough." Galbatorix raised a hand stopping the Twin. The King leaned forward in his chair and murmured into Murtagh's ear. The Twin pushed the iron back into the brazier, stirring it around to reheat it. It was not long before the steady rhythm of Murtagh's breath intensified as he came back to consciousness. "We will take a break, Murtagh. Rest." Galbatorix looked to the Twin. "You may start on the girl."

The Twin turned, iron in hand. He smiled as he hovered the iron over Lorena's exposed tissue. Lorena held his gaze, refusing to look away, refusing to show any sign of weakness. But the iron descended, searing into her flesh, and there was no holding back a scream.

* * *

For spiting your years of protection...

For denying my will...

For running away...

For spiting your years of protection...

For denying my will...

For running away...

For spiting your years of protection...

The words seemed an endless rhythm. Whispered calmingly the words washed over Lorena, easing her into a trance of understanding and acceptance. Until she felt the searing pain whenever the iron kissed her.

Lorena's voice cut out half way through her cry, causing her to choke. She coughed and spluttered before gasping for air, desperately trying to fill her lungs. Bright spots jumped before her eyes before she collapsed into darkness.

* * *

For spiting your years of protection...

For denying my will...

For running away...

For spiting your years of protection...

For denying my will...

For running away...

For spiting your years of protection...

The words were an endless rhythm. Whispered calmingly the words washed over Lorena, easing her into a trance of understanding and acceptance. Until she heard the anguished cries Murtagh emitted whenever the iron kissed him.

Lorena was torn between relief that she no longer felt the fresh bite of the iron, and boiling anger that Murtagh was again being subjected to this incredulous pain. Lorena pulled against her restraints, then cried out in frustration. She watched Murtagh from the corner of her eye until Galbatorix ordered the Twin to change victims.

The iron burned, but so did the knowledge of when they were done with her they would start back up with Murtagh, and vice versa. Galbatorix had the Twins swap positions numerous times, and on occasion had them work together. For what felt like a lifetime they continued to swap between the two captives, stopping when their victim lost consciousness or when Galbatorix ordered the change.

But worst of all Galbatorix continued to whisper into Murtagh's ear-loud enough for Lorena to hear-for spiting your years of protection, for denying my will, for running away. Lorena eventually could not help but scream with frustration. But eventually Galbatorix whispered a mercy.

"That's enough for today." The Twin pulled his iron off of Murtagh and shoved it back into the brazier. "Rest, and recuperate. Your punishment is over. When I visit you next we will speak of what has happened to you since you left Urû'baen."

And with that the King stood and left, his heavy black cape billowing behind him. The Twin beside him lifted the carved wooden chair and followed his master. The other Twin slapped his hands together as if to knock loose any dirt and took his leave. The bolt to the door scraped shut and Lorena was able to breathe a sigh of relief.

A noise escaped from Murtaghs' lips. He paused, breathed deeply, then croaked, "Lorena."

"Murtagh, are you alright?" The question was undeniably redundant. But she struggled to think of anything else.

"I... we... we tell them nothing. Remember, we tell them nothing."

Lorena watched the flickering lights cast by the brazier onto the ceiling. The veins seemed to be given a burst of life, weaving around each other and across the surface. She imagined feeling the iron the next time the King came to visit, she imagined what other horrors he would come up with if they did not give him what he wanted.

"Yes, we tell them nothing."

* * *

A snapping sound next to her ear woke Lorena up with a jump. She looked up into the young gaolers face and wondered how long he had been in the cell before she had woken. Her head swam as he lifted it to look over at Murtagh. He lay on his stone slab, the older gaoler slapped a leg shackle shut.

The young gaoler grabbed Lorena's arm and helped her to her feet, before escorting her to the privy room. When finished he restrained her back onto the slab. Every muscle hurt, every step made each burn sting. Lorena looked down at herself to see holes all through her underclothes, and in a few places the edges of the burnt clothing stuck to her wounds.

The gaolers retrieved their silver trays and hand fed the captives. Lorena found the food to be bland but it eased her rumbling stomach. Neither Murtagh and Lorena spoke to their captors, nor the gaolers spoke to the captives.