Dunei - A Murtagh Love Story - Eldest Fan Fiction

Chapter 21

   “Don’t sneak up on me like that!”

   “I didn’t sneak up on you,” she hissed, “and keep your voice down.”

   “I cast a silencing spell, and what do you call it?”

   “I was trying to get in front of you, so you’d know I was there. I was trying to be subtle!”

   “Good job,” he replied sarcastically, “If you’re trying to be subtle then you shouldn’t all but run. I could hear just from your footsteps that something was wrong. I’m sure that if anyone had seen you they would have been suspicious.”

   “Fine,” she said as she pushed herself away from his chest, “I’ll be more careful.”

   “Where do you think you’re going?” Murtagh asked, then pulled her back to him. Warm lips pressed against hers and she melted against him. When he pulled away she sighed contently, then rested her head in the crook of his neck. He was warm, and his scent familiar, she couldn’t help but close her eyes and relax. This was what she had wanted.

   “I’ve seen you twice in as many days, what a treat.”

   She felt his body vibrate as he chuckled, then placed kisses against her hair. “This is the kind of meeting I prefer.”

   “What were you doing before I snuck up on you?” she asked, running her fingers over the hollow at the base of his neck.

   “I’m between magic and training lessons, so I had just gone to see Thorn.”

   “Thorn’s locked up?”

   “In my bedchambers,” Murtagh replied grimly, “until he’s old enough it’s the only safe place for him. He’s getting close to training age, but not quite.”

   Opening her eyes she looked up at him. “You’re bedchambers are just down the hall?”

   He revealed white teeth. “Did you want to see them?”

   Pushing him away he fell onto the table top, and she pointed a finger at him. “Behave yourself.”

   “What did I do?” he asked innocently, holding his hands up. Lorena raised an eyebrow and sat on one of the available chairs.

   “You’ll never guess what happened yesterday.”

   Murtagh dropped his hands. “What?”

   “I hit him.”

   “Who?”

   “Galbatorix.”

   “Congratulations,” he murmured, “how badly did he beat you in return?”

   “No, Murtagh, you don’t understand. Whenever I’ve tried to hit him in the past I’ve just bounced off his wards. Yesterday though, I managed to strike him across the chest.”

   Murtagh looked at her, calculatingly. “What were the circumstances?”

   “What do you mean?”

   “How did it happen? What was different this time compared to the other times?”

   “The other times I had wanted to hurt the bastard. This time, it was an accident. I hadn’t intended to hit him.”

   “So you just touched him?” Murtagh looked disappointed, “That’s not the same thing.”

   “I know it’s not! But I didn’t touch him, I struck him. It was hard.”

   “How did you do it?”

   “I tried to splash him, but I had water in my eyes and couldn’t see, so instead of hitting water I hit him.”

   “You bathed together.” Murtagh stared at her, his lips a white line.

   “No,” Lorena claimed sternly, “he pushed me into the fountain.”

   He raised an eyebrow. “Why?”

   “I don’t know. For his amusement? Why does he do anything that he does.”

   Murtagh sighed and ran a hand over his face. “I’m just surprised that your oaths didn’t stop you anyway.”

   “My oaths?”

   “Yes, the oaths Galbatorix made you swear. Do you happen to remember what they were?”

   “Murtagh,” Lorena said slowly, staring at him, “I haven’t sworn any oaths.”

   “What?” His hand fell, and a shocked expression settled over his face. “You’ve sworn no oaths?”

   She shook her head. “None that I can think of.”

   “Well think!” he shouted, rising to his feet, “Anything, have you sworn anything in the ancient language?”

   She racked her mind, trying to think over the past however many weeks she’d been locked up in the capital. “I don’t believe so,” she started, then saw his face flush red in anger, “No! I haven’t. None whatsoever.”

   “That fool,” Murtagh seemed to say to himself, then raised his voice to a full shout, “That fool!”

   Lorena glanced at the door, not trusting the strength of the silencing spell. She tried to speak then realised he was laughing, a noise that sounded like a man almost mad. He turned to her, wiping at the corner of an eye, cracking a grin that scared her more than comforted.

   “You haven’t sworn any oaths,” he stated again, smile becoming larger than she thought possible, “not one.”

   “Murtagh,” she breathed, standing to take his hand between hers, “you’re frightening me.”

   “You have nothing to be frightened of, my love.” He grasped the back of her neck and pulled her to him. His lips crashed against hers, hungry and fierce, domineering and maddening. Panicked Lorena didn’t know whether to submit or fight, but then it was over and he was staring down at her with storming eyes. “You’re getting out of here, and you’re taking Thorn with you.”