#always take a murtagh with you

[thearunadragon]

Pachycephalosaurus?

How The IC Characters Would React to Seeing A Dinosaur, Part Eleven (I think): Pachycephalosaurus.

ERAGON: *Head go BONK*

ARYA: Secretly wants to ride this thing to headbutt her enemies. She likes the bashy-headed dinosaur.

MURTAGH: “This mace is f**king ALIVE!” (diabolical laughter ensues as he steals a saddle and runs away to enjoy the awesome Dino-mace.)

RORAN: hehehe. HEHEHE. HEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEH.

ORIK: *looks at dinosaur**looks at Volûnd* *looks at dinosaur* “You cousins, orrrrr…?”

NASUADA: “WHAT IS THAT?” Angela: A pachycephalosaurus! Nasuada: I don’t want a s pack of soggy potatoes WHY IS IT IN MY ROOM

ALÍN: Somehow befriends this mf Hiccup Haddock style and rides it up and down the halls of Ilirea’s castle, shrieking all the while. The casualties have remained low.

UVEK: (Dumps bucket of grease over his head) “I HEADBUTT YOU. BRAWL ME WITH HONOR. AHHHHHH!” {slamming noises}

BROM: Has experienced flight twice before lunch. Is done with life for today. Will be napping in a tree.

ISLANZADÍ: *Watching Blagden scream in entertainment as he rides on the dinosaur’s head all over the place* “…Wh-“

BLÖDHGARM: *blinks* And where do you suppose we house this thing, exactly, Shadesl- GAH! (Eragon is black and blue. He has a second Dino behind him. Arngor is on fire. Dignity is dead.)

ANGELA: “…Delicious. Anyway—”

Part Twelve (Yes, it’s still going)

[scrimblescromble]

Hello, I'm back, with things I have noticed about Eragon that makes parts of the book very strange or funny or sad

Garrow's farm is TEN MILES OUT from Carvahall, which is already small. What the hell was he thinking??? It takes like 3.5 hours to walk that much???? And Eragon walks FURTHER THAN THAT to go hunting at 15???? Go behind you??

When hunting in the beginning, Eragon spends days just going for one doe. Which, all things considered, is not a lot of meat, especially for what's probably a 4 day hunt. For one person, it's unrealistic to carry more than that, but still.

Leading on from that, I'm led to believe that their family probably mostly ate bread and vegetables, and maybe cheese. No wonder he's pretty attached to meat.

Despite living so far away, Brom knows Eragon's knack for asking Too Many Questions, which implies this happens often.

How the hell does Brom make money? Storytelling??? There's only so much money that can get you in fifteen years, he's definitely got something on the side. He was a gardener in Morzan's estate for a while...

So far up north and isolated, Eragon DEFINITELY has a STRONG farmer's accent. Combined with his formal training with the elves, he probably has the weirdest way of talking, where it's both overly formal and casual at the same time.

Eragon is such a prodigy it's not even funny. By the time he meets Murtagh, he's a good enough swordsman after JUST A FEW MONTHS that they're literally equal. Murtagh has been doing that his WHOLE LIFE with a really good swordsman. Magic also comes pretty good to him, even if he's not always sensible with it. He learns to read well enough to read full books in a week.

Eragon and Roran are pretty similar with the dangerous stunts they pull, except Eragon's are usually with magic and Roran's are physical. They are both absurdly intelligent too, even if Eragon is known to act like a dolt sometimes. In his defence, he's stressed and like 15-17 years old. All things considered, he could be far worse.

Somehow, with his back ripped open and cursed, with his dragon crashing through the crystal ceiling which is raining on top of him, Eragon is able to not only remember to stab Durza in the heart (requiring turning around), but also shout an unnecessary spell.

Eragon probably could do magic before he bonded with Saphira. His mum wasn't a rider and had the "genes" for it, and his dad was a rider. It wouldn't be as strong, but maybe he's such a powerful spellcaster because he had some sort of baseline.

I bet that the first time Eragon wandered into the Spine, he was pretty young, and everyone kinda assumed him dead. He came out a week later with a bunch of rabbits or something

The fact that the Blood Oath Celebration made Eragon very pale implies that he's naturally the whitest boy ever and he just had a constant tan going (likely, because he's a farmer). This is just very funny to me, that in removing all injuries it took his tan.

Another point for absurdly powerful Eragon - the fact that his accidental curse had such an impact on Elva, to the point that it straight up affected her development. It wasn't even a spell! Or intentional!

I'm sorry, but Eragon casting empathy and that unintentionally killing the bad guy is so funny. He was SURRENDERING, but cut a bitch so deep that he imploded himself. Iconic.

Literally he is just so nice. Willing to run across the world, separated from Saphira, to support Orik in his campaign - when he totally could have given an excuse, or even just say the truth, which is that he's very much needed where he is. There's so many more examples, but he's just a good person.

I'm sorry, but Oramis was kinda a bitch for assigning the one hour of duelling in his training. Like, it flares up his seizures like crazy (which he ALSO SUFFERS FROM), AND he doesn't stand a chance against the elves in strength. I understand the point, but something had to give there. At the very least, reassign someone that won't actively torture him??

Adding onto that, we know that he's only able to succeed at the listening to the forest task after the transformation. I suspect that the mind is a sort of "sixth sense", and we know that elves have stronger senses; it's possible Eragon would have to have been bonded for a decent while for this to even be possible. I bet anything that human riders were usually trained by elder humans, and Oramis was struggling with a fledgeling human instead of an elf, as well as the time constraint.

Why the hell does Brom look so old? Yeah, he's old, but Galbatorix doesn't look that old? Is it something to do with his dragon being dead? The way I assumed it would be is that riders look like thirty for a verrrryyyy long time, no? Is it because Saphira died? Was he just going to perpetually age? Or does the beard age him?

Your cousin who feels like a brother goes missing, ran away, after your father's death. Soon you're leading everyone you've ever known to the rebellion in a desperate attempt to keep them safe and save the woman you love. Your cousin is wanted, even more than you are. He returns. He's different. Barely human anymore, hardly the boy you once knew. He's their last, and only hope. His war cry has been the same since he was six.

Now that I think about it, Garrow really is the odd one out in the family. His sister was the Black Hand, a highly dangerous assassin and magician. His son is Stronghammer, one of the deadliest soldiers in the country. His nephews are Eragon and Murtagh, both highly skilled swordsmen and magicians, riders, and both known as Kingkiller. Garrow is a farmer who can read.

Selena naming her son Eragon is soooo funny. "His dad - who is a secret! - is a rider, and Eragon was the first rider. It's so uncommon a name even among the elves that literally nobody will know this. My abusive husband and the evil king both know I hail from this place. He totally won't stick out in any way whatsoever!" Iconic, 10/10. It worked???

If any of these are inaccurate please remember I am going off my very deep-seated knowledge from reading the books so many times at a formative age. I haven't actually read them in years

[sgiandubh]

Is that it? Is this the end of OL? The cast, crew, and showrunners seem to have moved on (except for the promo). And if it is the end, CB not acknowledging it is strange.

Dear The End Anon,

Well, it really depends on what you actually mean by 'the end of OL', isn't it?

Last week brought just the end of the shooting of the final season. Nothing less, but also nothing more. Call me an idiot if you will, but I can't, for the life of me, understand the Wailing Circus about 'OMG, it's over, I'm not crying, you're crying', etc. It's been a year everyone knows Season 8 will be the last one and also that things could have very well ended with Season 7B, were it not for S's insistence that the show needed 'a proper ending'. Seeing grown-up women getting all shellshocked for literally nothing was, I have to admit, a most unwelcome surprise to me. I mean, seriously now, how old are they and why all this artificial drama?

I have also noticed the more nervous side was just across the street. The flurry of half mental Anons sent to shippers' inboxes by what apparently is the same Lame Troll tells me that there is some serious kerfuffle among them. And how could it be otherwise, since the habitual points of talk (Tait, papers, lovelovelove - seriously LOL- and shippers are pathetic imbeciles) start to wear off. I mean, how many times can you parrot those same ten lines, before realizing your own voice starts to sound very, very unconvincing, after all?

As for the cast, crew and showrunners moving on, I beg to differ. Saying good-bye to ten years of someone's life is never a mechanical process. And the protracted promo calendar will certainly fuel the embers of illusion for a while. There are still dedicated cons being organized by fans, such as the French Landcon coming full circle in Edinburgh, next September. And we just know some of the side players will always be interested in being involved in any OL-related event which could bring the cashola in. Duncan Lacroix, who seems to be a fixture, comes to mind (zero work since Murtagh died for good). Or the very foolish McTavish Danube luxury cruise, OL cat ladies and Gabaldon bigots only need to apply. As far as I know, clinging on to something is just the opposite of moving on, don't you think?

But have no fear, Anon. Promo time for 7B is near and along with it, the same old, same old speculation, carefully choreographed slippage and skirmishes. This dynamic is likely to linger on, for a good while still, albeit with less and less juicy bones thrown in for consumption. But you know what, in the great scheme of things, where all the corners of this fandom seem firmly set on their positions, it doesn't really matter. The only diversions are brought in by The Mourners, always at the ready.

As for C not acknowledging the end of shooting, I'd venture telling you this is her PR problem, not mine/yours, for what it's worth. Is it something proper to do? Probably not and it always amazes me how her Stans are still not realizing she doesn't (really, really) give a flying fuck about their OTT, kitschy and immature homage.

But here is another thing that made me go hmmm, Anon:

When and where did the rest of her bio go? I am unable to tell you, but why doesn't she introduce herself as an 'actress' anymore?

Could be nothing. But then, again, it could be something to take note of. Dots always end up connecting, in here, anyways.

[murtagh-thorn]

Murtagh Realizing You're Not Doing Well & Taking Care of You Headcanons

Murtagh is a very attentive, observant person and clocks that something is off with you immediately. Of course he worries, but also doesn’t want to pry or make you feel smothered, so just silently observes you for a while.

When it’s clear this is more than just a bad day, he starts keeping a more watchful eye on you, doing little things silently here and there to make your life easier. Any chores you were dreading are already done by the time you arrive, any items you need are suddenly waiting on your bed, little trinkets and your favorite foods are appearing here and there, etc.

He starts checking in with you to make sure you’re eating, drinking, and sleeping enough while gently reminding you that you’ve more than earned time to rest. If there are any tasks that are stressing you out, he offers to help or even take care of them for you with no hesitation.

Eventually, when things don’t improve and it’s clear you’re pushing yourself past your limits, he sits the two of you down and opens up about he felt after the battle in the throne room. How exhausted, angry, burned out, and completely drained both he and Thorn were and how it would’ve ended very badly for everyone involved if he didn’t take a break—all this to say, he doesn’t want to see you push yourself so hard that you lose yourself in the process and thinks a break might be a good idea, and why don’t you let him talk to Eragon about it on your behalf?

Eragon of course understands and tells you to take as much time as you need. You’re welcome to continue hanging around the academy without worrying about tasks or to take a trip elsewhere. If you feel you need to get away, Murtagh offers to show you all the cool places he found in his travels with Thorn.

If you opt to stay around the academy, Murtagh says his out of the way cottage is open to you whenever, and he even makes sure his spare bedroom is always prepared if you’re not together yet (or if your relationship is still new). If you are, of course you’re welcome in his room. He gets you all the things you need to relax, saying his book collection is all open to you, and takes care of everything—including cooking you meals that have all the nutrients you need to heal and loves making you tea.

If you need some time away and agree to accompany Murtagh and Thorn on a trip, he’s ecstatic to show you all his favorite places he found. He somehow even makes camping out in the open by the fire relaxing and secretly enjoys having you all to himself.

He seeks Eragon’s help out in learning meditation strategies, breathing techniques, and ways to cope and heal that he learned from the elves. As he’s teaching them to you, it inspires him to take better care of himself as well and it becomes a tradition for the two of you to do many of these things together.

He’s constantly bringing you little gifts, such as flowers he found in a field, your favorite snacks, or even hand-making you little wooden carvings. If he really wants to impress you, he acquires the elves’ help to learn how to make jewelry. The designs are always simple, but you can feel the love and care he put into them and never take them off.

Of course, night flights on Thorn with him are a must (or flying together on your own dragon, if you’re a Rider), usually followed by landing in an out of the way, remote location to just chat, stargaze (he loves astronomy and is pointing out all the constellations to you), snuggle, etc.

He becomes a bit more touchy feely during this time, regardless of where you are in your relationship. If you’re not together yet, they’re very shy, gentle touches to your arm, back, hand, etc. here and there. If it’s early, the touches are a little more frequent and he’s not as afraid to do things like smooth your hair, kiss your knuckles, or pull you into a hug. If you’ve been together for a while, he’s practically attached to you at all times, holding your hand, holding you against him, all the random kisses, lifting you off the ground when he hugs you, etc.

He’ll do whatever it takes to make you feel better, is constantly trying to make you laugh and smile, and always reminding you about how much better his life is with you in it.

[maidenvault]

I’m still only about halfway through the show but it continues to make me insane how John Grey and Jack Randall, as the two most important gay characters in Outlander, serve as foils for each other in all these fascinating ways that largely cancel out my initial reservations about the writing of queer characters on this show.

Randall hates that his brother, the only person in the world he seems to love, forces him with his dying wish to take Mary as his wife. It doesn’t matter that he’s not attracted to women, Randall is such a sick sadist he can’t trust himself to have that kind of power over a person so dear to Alex. And it seems to prove his fears right, and that it’s lucky he probably dies without the marriage even consummated, that he’s so anguished by going through with it he starts beating Alex’s corpse in front of her the moment he’s died.

Likewise John is horrified by the idea when Brianna tries to blackmail him into marrying her for her convenience, because even if he doesn’t like women she’s Jamie’s full-grown daughter and he can’t help but feel drawn to her. He knows there’s a very weak part of him that is not above sleeping with her to feel close to the man he wants more than anything. John would never actually touch her, just as he wouldn’t have Jamie on the wrong terms, but I think threatening her by saying he’s been married before and is perfectly capable of consummating it is the only way he can make her understand why he can’t possibly marry her. It wouldn’t be a danger to her but it would probably kind of destroy him.

Randall’s story always feels like it’s entangled with Jamie’s and Claire’s by destiny. Claire was always connected to her soul mate from 200 years ago through her marriage to a Randall, and Jack is the first person she encounters in the past. The two of them have this fascinating chemistry because she has what he can’t have, because she and Jamie are the only people he’s fully shown himself to as a total monster, and he’s even strangely vulnerable with her in their last conversation. He resents what’s between them because he can’t understand the power Claire has over him. In his own completely fucked up way he’s in love with Jamie, but Randall only gets off on power over people and is incapable of understanding the power that can come from willingly submitting to the person you love, that that’s part of what makes Jamie this incredibly strong and impressive man he loved breaking but seemingly goes to his grave still wanting he-doesn’t-know-what from.

John Grey’s destiny seems even more meaningfully entangled with theirs. What John impulsively swears after the first encounter between the three of them, by total mishap and coincidence, ends up saving Jamie’s life down the road. John is the only reason he’s eventually able to reunite with Claire after twenty years, and he’s so often conveniently placed where he can help them.

John also has this unique chemistry and even strange intimacy with Claire because they love the same man, but John accepts that what he wants with Jamie is impossible. He’s so above him in class that it’s never appropriate for them to even hug each other (GOD), yet John’s devotion to him is like that of chaste courtly love and he’d probably do literally anything for him (Jamie probably bristles so much at Murtagh asking him to get redcoat intel out of John because it would be taking advantage of more than their friendship). They’ll be connected forever because he’s raising Willie as his own, the real love of his life, and whether it’s totally healthy or not he’ll take it.

And of course unlike Randall, John isn’t possessive of Jamie. He can’t exactly be besties with Claire but I think in his own way he loves her for seeing him, and he knows she’s special and worthy of Jamie. He would never dream of reducing Jamie to less than he is to have him. He fell in love with this man seeing how he naturally commanded respect and loyalty even in the walls of a prison, and honestly even if Jamie could have loved him back, I don’t think John could stand to see him be a groom in his service or something forever so they could discreetly have a relationship. He’s younger than Jamie, and though he’s a lord with a naturally imperious air and a shrewd leader and impressive soldier, it’s uh…not hard to imagine the dynamic we’ve seen when we first see John with a sexual partner is a different picture from his fantasies involving Jamie.

Maybe to a lot of people it’s still disappointing that John is fundamentally a tragic character in a world he can’t be himself in. I feel guilty myself because I honestly can’t decide at this point if I want John to find his own true love or just end up dramatically dying in Jamie’s arms like Eponine, lol (pls don’t spoil me!) But I know it’s not cool to like Outlander because Diana Gabaldon can be kind of annoying and tumblr thinks all het romance is cringe, and it’s too bad because specificity is what actually makes minority representation interesting and there is some pretty fucking wild shit like nothing I’ve ever seen in other shows wrt the relationships with and portrayals of queer characters on this show. It blew my head open thinking of all the different ways this is weird when Brianna fucking proposed to John, just like it must have hers when he was like “Oh sweetie, you think your dad doesn’t know?” 😂 That is just good television.

[dragodraws1]

HELLO

I appeared after seeing some Eragon art

Your art is GORGEOUS, and I would very much love to ask about the haaaair in particular

It’s very stylistically fluffy. How do you do it ? :V

HI!!

First of all, thank you very much! 💖q(≧▽���q) for the compliments!

And to answer your question quickly: Animal aesthetics.

To explain more completely, I am someone who LOVES animals and that is why I implement animal aesthetics into my art style, for example:

Eragon - making the character's hair more fluffy inspired by the fur of puppies, I thought of this because Saphira always called him little one, this gave me the perception of them as a bigger dog taking care of a puppy lol.

Arya - I gave her black cat characteristics, such as her eyes being more closed and feline, her ears reacting to her emotions, and something unique about her among the elves I included was her hair, inspired by the wilder, looser fur of a specific breed of cat called the Maine Coon (which reflects the “wildness” that I imagine she develops from living so long among other breeds other than elves).

Murtagh - I didn’t make it too obvious, but Murtagh also has this aesthetic, just like Arya and Eragon, with his being specifically inspired by foxes, since for me, Murtagh has a somewhat cunning and wise aspect of foxes, which is why I gave him the somewhat “cynical” smile that they seem to have and the narrower, more attentive eyes.

I hope I have helped with this perception（￣︶￣）👍

[alagaesia-headcanons]

Being super dramatic is a family trait shared between Eragon, Murtagh, and Roran, but in different ways. Eragon is especially dramatic when he's making decisions, but not always in the way he talks about it. Particularly later in the series he can be quite frank and even about bat shit choices, for example, when discussing that he's decided to leave Alagaesia for the rest of his indefinite life because he had his fortune told once. On the other hand, Murtagh is usually quite practical with his actual decision making, but he does love to make a dramatic spectacle. Like the way he takes Zar'roc from Eragon as a way to reveal that they're brothers, he's so extra.

And then there's fucking Roran who trumps both of them by being infinitely more dramatic in both way. The theatrics are constantly off the charts with this man. Completely unhinged with zero chill, he always takes the most over the top option available in every situation and makes such a scene of it. His fucking speech to convince the villagers to leave Carvahall, the way he insists on going through the boar's eye, his ploy to scare the empire away from their camp at Aroughs solely with feigned overconfidence. This man contemplates every possible way to murder Nasuada's guards while waiting to see her and believes they must be thinking the same about him, like no babe, it's just you, no one else is this melodramatic and feral

[saphira-approves]

Something something professional artist jargon something something insert art knowledge here—whatever I want to talk about the book covers

So you’ve got Eragon, with a 3/4 portrait of Saphira; she’s giving a benevolent side eye with almost a Mona Lisa smile, she’s got that gleam in her eye, she’s looking at you but not head on—listen, this was the whole reason I picked up the book in the first place when I was eleven, she was so clearly full of life and personality and I just really wanted to meet her. It’s a really good glimpse of her character before even opening the book. She’s engaging you, but also maybe judging you a little bit, and she has a lot of thoughts but she’s going to keep them to herself for right now, thank you.

We’re skipping Eldest for right now because I have a point to make. Shush.

For Brisingr, we get a perfect side portrait of Glaedr, the grumpy old man. He’s not even side-eyeing the viewer like Saphira does; he is eyes forward, goal-oriented, noble and regal and, unless you’re worth his time, not really going to bother with you because he has Important Business to attend to. He is The Last of the pre-Fall dragons, his Rider is The Last of the pre-Fall Riders, he represents a bygone era that will never fully be resurrected, but can still inspire the present to fight for the future; he is no longer fully his own dragon, but a Relic, a Memory, a Symbol. He’s not anxious about it the way Eragon or Saphira might be; he has grieved for a century, he couldn’t be anxious about it if he tried. But he knows that keeping his integrity intact is important, and so this is how he presents himself: Noble. Regal. The Survivor. The Last.

Fírnen graces the cover of Inheritance, bookending the original series by almost perfectly mirroring Saphira—and seriously, it is so satisfying to line the books up with these two at the ends. Though he’s got a 3/4 profile like Saphira, Fírnen is much more reserved. No Mona Lisa smile, no mischievous gleam in his eye; he simply looks at you, and you look back, and you wonder what he’s thinking. He is, in fact, a lot like Arya—anyone who’s read the previous three books up to that point and hasn’t been spoiled for the ending might be able to guess, just from this portrait, who the final egg would hatch for. It’s also a perfect expression for the Final Book, with the fate of Alagaësia and the dragons hanging in the balance: what world does this mysterious dragon emerge into? A war-torn apocalypse? A hard-won victory? What does his future entail, and thus, what do the futures of our favorite characters entail? You ask him so many questions, but all he will ever do is stare deep into your soul with his somber, too-knowing gaze.

And now for the main event:

My beautiful precious son, the red-scaled Thorn, staring you down from the covers of both Eldest and Murtagh. I have loved the cover of the second book ever since I first picked it up, and my appreciation has only grown with time; needless to say I was very excited when the Murtagh cover dropped, and I got to see both of my favorite characters in one place. For both of these, Thorn takes the same stance: a full-frontal combative position, looking You, The Viewer directly in the eye, daring you to judge him, daring you to get in his way. I’ve always had my own opinions about what lay behind this show of force, and the context we get in Murtagh does not disappoint. He may be terrifying, he may be the scourge of the war, but underneath all that, Thorn is terrified. He’s traumatized, he’s claustrophobic, his body is too big for his age; he is painfully young still, and yet treated like a dragon ten times his age because that’s how he looks. He’s also sweet, and playful, and cares so much about his Rider, and wants desperately to keep Murtagh safe and happy. Just like Murtagh, he hides all of that—the fear and the softness both—behind a visage of ferocity, playing into the fears and preconceived notions people have of him, warning enemies away so they can’t get too close to what will actually hurt him. He dares you to try. He’s terrified you will try. He will fight tooth and nail if you do try.

[sassenach77yle]

||COUNTDOWN ||SEASON 1 EPISODE 14 || THE SEARCH ||

#83daysofoutlander☆

Traveling openly—and slowly—along the main roads, we stopped at every croft and village and hamlet we came to. There he would make a quick survey of the local populace, round up anyone suffering from illness or injury, and bring them to me for treatment. Physicians being few and far between in these parts, there was always someone ailing to attend to. While I was occupied with my tonics and salves, he would chat idly with the friends and relatives of the afflicted, taking care to describe the path of our journey toward Beauly. If by chance there were no patients to be seen in a place, we would pause nonetheless for the night, seeking shelter at a cottage or tavern. In these places, Murtagh would sing to entertain our hosts and earn our supper, stubbornly insisting that I preserve all the money I had with me, in case it should be needed when we found Jamie. Not naturally inclined toward conversation, he taught me some of his songs, to pass the time as we plodded on from place to place. “Ye’ve a decent voice,” he observed, one day, after a moderately successful attempt at “The Dowie Dens of Yarrow.” “Not well-trained, but strong and true enough. Try it once more and ye’ll sing it wi’ me tonight. There’s a wee tavern at Limraigh.” “Do you really think this will work?” I asked. “What we’re doing, I mean?” He shifted about in the saddle before answering. No natural horseman, he always looked like a monkey trained to ride a horse, but still managed to dismount fresh as a daisy at day’s end, while I could barely manage to hobble my horse before staggering off to collapse. “Oh, aye,” he said, at last. “Sooner or later. You’re seein’ more sick folk these days, no?” This was true, and I admitted as much. “Well, then,” he said, proving his point, “that means word o’ your skill is spreading. And that’s what we want. But we could maybe do better. That’s why you’ll sing tonight. And perhaps …” He hesitated, as though reluctant to suggest something. “Perhaps what?” “Know anything about fortune-telling, do ye?” he asked warily. I understood the reason for his hesitancy; he had seen the frenzy of the witch-hunt at Cranesmuir. I smiled. “A bit. You want me to try it?” “Aye. The more we can offer, the more folk will come to see us—and go back to tell others. And word will spread about us, ’til the lad hears of us. And that’s when we’ll find him. Game to try, are ye?” I shrugged. “If it will help, why not?”

I made my debut as singer and fortune-teller that night at Limraigh, with considerable success. I found that Mrs. Graham had been right in what she had told me—it was the faces, not the hands, that gave you the necessary clues. Our fame spread, little by little, until by the next week, people were running out of their cottages to greet us as we rode into a village, and showering us with pennies and small gifts as we rode away.

“You know, we could really make something of this,” I remarked one evening, stowing the night’s takings away. “Too bad there’s no theater anywhere near—we could do a proper music-hall turn: Magical Murtagh and His Glamorous Assistant, Gladys.”

Cap 34 ~outlander

[thearunadragon]

Hi !!! ✨️

What hobbies would the IC characters have?

(something that could distract themselves from the war)

Hi! Nice new pfp :)

ERAGON: Takes up carving figurines and little statues of animals and dragons over the war and continues even later on in his life.

ARYA: Thrives on anything involving weaponry, horses, and also loves flowers, though she’d never admit it. Gold, red, and purple are among her favorite flower colors.

NASUADA: Likes spoiling her horse, Battlestorm, and listening to one of her guards ramble about all the ridiculous things he’s seen people do throughout the day.

MURTAGH: He enjoys sparring, daggers, and actually enjoys cooking meat once he gets into trying it. He gets very good at this and Thorn loves it when Murtagh cooks for him.

SAPHIRA: Doing flight tricks right above the camp to show off

THORN: Likes to birdwatch. Legitimately just likes to watch birds doing random things.

ORIK: Axe throwing. Getting way too fired up over dwarven checkers and runes. Puzzles. Laughing at the dumb stuff feldûnost do.

RORAN: Any kind of physical labor is his distraction when Katrina’s not around. He’s actually taken up carpentry in the side in recent years…

GARZHVOG: Would wrestle a Nagra to pass the time if he got bored.

BROM: Brom always liked to whittle, and, like his family back in Kuasta, he never quite left the art of illumination behind, and was quite good at it.

OROMIS: Likes the flute and obsesses over fairths.

GARROW: “Catch them chickens, boy! Go on, now, get ‘em!” -Garrow, consistently until his death.

ANGELA: Misusing words to make people gloriously uncomfortable as she picks mushrooms.

Thank you for the ask!

[troublemaker203]

Murtagh Fitzgibbons x Fem! Reader - Arranged Marriage Pt. 3

Word Count: 1854

Summary: After your father had been killed and your brother had been taken by the Redcoats, you were left behind. A group of highlanders come across your ravaged house and decide to take you with them to Castle Leoch. Since you have lost the protection from your father and brother, it is decided that you should be married, in order to keep you protected from the Redcoats.

Warnings: None

Part 2

As soon as the door of Colum's office closed behind you, you panicked. Should you try to escape? No. No, that wasn't a good plan. You would get caught and likely get thrown into the dungeons. So you would get married. Would you, though? This could not be real, right? Absentmindedly, you started to wander through the castle thinking about how you would handle this situation. Did you want to marry either of those men? Who would be worse? Dougal had made it known that he found you quite... pleasant. But did you find him pleasant, too? Not in the least. And Murtagh was a grumpy man; how could you ever find a way to live with such a person?               Because you were so caught up in your own thoughts you hadn’t noticed that you had walked outside and were now strolling through the gardens. A voice made you snap out of it. “Hello, Y/N,” Claire said, “I am surprised to see you here.” “Yes, well, I just came from…” you motioned towards the castle and Claire nodded. “Yes, I wondered when they would break the news to you. Have they… Do you know who you are going to marry?” “No. Colum said he will announce it tonight,” you looked down at your feet, “during a great feast, for all to hear.” When you looked back up at Claire, your eyes had welled up. “Hey,” she stepped towards you and put her warm hand on your arm, “I was once in your position, and, yes, I was scared, too, but now I can’t imagine a life without Jamie. Any man would be lucky to have you and I am sure that you will be treated with love and respect.” “But I don’t want to marry either of them,” you whispered, afraid to cry. “Of whom?” “Dougal or Murtagh.” “Oh.” Claire paused for a moment. “Dougal might be a little bit much in the beginning, but he is a strong man and he will protect you with his life, so you will always be safe when you’re with him.” “And Murtagh?” “Murtagh is… well, I think he will be the most loving husband you will ever meet.” “But he does not look friendly at all.” Claire laughed. “I know, but, trust me, he has a heart of gold. Don’t let his surly expression fool you, my dear.” You nodded. “Do you want to help me sort the herbs in my practice? It will help you get your mind off things. Maybe you could help me more often? I could really use some help with all of the patients; I do hope you’re not scared of blood?” You shook your head. “No,” you smiled at Claire, “and I would love to help, thank you.”

              You had never been in Claire’s practice before and your eyes widened when you walked down the stairs, into the big room. There were hundreds of jars filled with herbs of which you had never heard the name. “I don’t know how good I am at any of this.” Claire smiled lovingly at you. “Don’t worry, I will teach you everything you need to know, it won’t be that hard.” She handed you some jars after she had set down her basket with herbs and started explaining the various uses and how to prepare them. It took you two the whole afternoon to organize everything and you even helped Claire with a patient: one of the young boys at the castle had hurt himself on the fire in the kitchen and Claire had showed you how to dress his wounds. It was a very educational afternoon and you were relieved that it had taken your mind off things.               After a while, mistress Fitzgibbons came down the stairs to fetch you. “Hello, my dear, I came to fetch ye to get ye ready for the evening.” You looked at Claire who gave you an encouraging look. You followed mistress Fitzgibbons to your room where, unbeknownst to you, a beautiful dress was waiting for you. The fabric was sprawled out on your bed and it looked very expensive. You looked questioningly at mistress Fitzgibbons. “It’s a special dress, for a special occasion,” she winked at you, but you couldn’t feel happy about this so-called ‘special’ occasion. You felt like there were rocks in your stomach and you thought about how you could escape, but Claire had already explained that escaping would be impossible, since there were guards everywhere. “Trust me,” she had said, “I have tried.” Mistress Fitz had set you down on a chair in front of the mirror and started brushing your hair. You looked at her in the mirror and she looked at you, giving you a warm smile; she could probably see the fear in your eyes and she wanted you to feel safe. You smiled back at her, but your eyes did not smile. “Dinna fash, lass, you will be in good hands.” You wanted to believe her, but the truth was that you did not know any of those men and now you were expected to marry and, eventually – and sooner than later – share the bed with one of them. You knew that the consummation of a marriage was very important and none of these people would rest before they were sure that it had happened. You could already see them sitting, drinking downstairs, waiting for the moment that you and your husband – whoever that may be – went to bed.              You had been sitting in silence for a moment and Mistress Fitz was almost done with your hair. "Do you know when the wedding will be taking place?" you asked, hopeful that she would be able to have an answer to one of your many questions. "Not exactly, but I expect it will happen tomorrow, or the day after." "And..." you hardly dared to ask the question, "do you know to whom...?" The old lady shook her head. "No, I am sorry, dear, but you should not worry too much. These men may bark, but they don't bite, I can tell you that much." You smiled at her, glad for her attempts to put your mind at ease.        After she had put the last hand to your hair, she put her hands on your shoulders. "There, such a pretty lass." You looked at yourself in the mirror and she was right, you did look very pretty. "Up you get, let's get you in that dress." You stood up and started to undress yourself with the help of Mistress Fitz. You stepped into the beautiful green dress and the fabric had not only looked expensive, it felt really expensive, too. It was of the loveliest colour green and it suited you very well. You were laced up and as you glanced at yourself in the mirror, you could not believe that the woman staring back at you was really you. Mistress Fitz put a string of pearls around your neck to really finish the look. She handed you a pair of shoes and you knew that this was the last step before you had to go downstairs. Your heart was beating aggressively in your chest and you were afraid that it would jump out.

By the time your shoes were put on by Mistress Fitz, you felt really lightheaded and you grabbed the woman’s arm to steady yourself. “Come on, lass, I willna let ye go. Let us head downstairs.” You nodded, unable to speak, and the two of you started making your way to the great hall.

Once in the hall, you could see that it was greatly decorated and the long tables were filled with enormous amounts of food; it certainly looked like a special occasion. “Now, my dear, I am going to have to let ye go now, since you will be seated at the table in the front.” Still not able to speak you nodded that you had understood what she had said. She carefully let go of your arm, testing to see if your own legs could carry you. Fortunately, your legs had gotten their strength back; at least, enough to carry yourself towards your seat. Colum stood up as you approached the table. “Ah, there she is! Have a seat, Y/N.” “Thank you,” you said, sitting down next to him. Colum started to speak to everyone who was seated in the hall. “Welcome to this special evening, everyone. We are all here to celebrate the marriage that will take place tomorrow. A marriage between this lovely lady here,” he motioned towards you, “and the man who is waiting to reveal himself as her future husband.” You scanned the room. The chair on the other side of Colum was still empty. There was no sight of Dougal; was he to be your husband? You looked for Murtagh but he was not present either. They were both probably waiting outside the hall, and one of them would walk in when Colum would ask for your husband to reveal himself. “So, we have come to the point where it is only fair to this lady to know who her husband will be.” Here we go. “May I ask for the husband-to-be of Y/N to step into the hall?” Everyone had gone quiet and you could hear footsteps approaching. You closed your eyes, not daring to look at who it would be. The footsteps got closer until they stopped. “It will be hard to see who I am when ye’ve got yer eyes closed, lass,” someone said. You did not recognize the voice to be Dougal’s and when you opened your eyes, you were greeted by the friendly, brown eyes of Murtagh. Were you relieved? Murtagh took your hand and placed a soft kiss on your knuckles, followed by a small wink; so small that you were sure only you could see it. Were those small butterflies in your stomach? You could feel your cheeks starting to get red and you quickly looked down. “It is an honour to marry ye, Y/N.” You looked up and smiled at him, not sure what to say. Murtagh had let go of your hand and made his way to his seat. You noticed that Dougal had made his way into the hall as well and a slight hint of jealousy could be detected on his face, though you were unsure why. “A toast,” Colum started, raising his glass and you and everyone else followed him, “to the bride and groom to be.” Everyone raised their glasses higher and took a sip. You took a big sip of the strong – stronger than you expected – wine. “As I mentioned, the wedding will take place tomorrow and I promise that it will be an even bigger feast than tonight and you’re all invited!” This announcement was followed by a lot of people shouting and raising their glasses. You looked at Murtagh and even he was smiling slightly. You would be married to this man tomorrow…

Tag list:

@hobbitsesoftheshire

@mysticalsoups

[gotham-ruaidh]

thermodynamics - a 7x03 story

Ian had been gone from camp for some time – his departure had been rather sudden, following a brief but promising glimpse of pheasants in the treetops – but not too long to start worrying.

Had they pushed harder this morning, they would have made it out of the forest by nightfall. But tonight would be another night sleeping rough beneath the trees.

Claire didn’t mind.

That afternoon, as she unpacked the saddlebags and gathered wood for the campfire – Jamie within earshot, speaking in Gaelic to the horses as they drank from a nearby spring – she realized why.

For months – since the fire, the loss of her children and grandchildren, even the whole terrible night with the Browns and the even more terrible aftermath – a small, pinching weight had settled between her shoulderblades. A low, dull ache that no herb or gentle massage could cure.

Psychosomatic, to be sure – but that didn’t make the weight of it any less crushing.

But today, as she bent to gently set down an armful of branches for their fire and stood up, reaching to soothe the ache that she knew would be there…it wasn’t.

She puzzled it out as she continued about her chores. Finding the skillet and spices and knife for cooking; digging out hers and Jamie’s bedroll and setting it half behind a bush; worrying the pouch full of gold bullets sewn within her pocket.

It was the first time in years – since they’d come to the Ridge, really – that she hadn’t had some kind of schedule. Free to take an extra day to get to Wilmington. Free to wander, to explore glades and caves and stop to admire especially large trees.

Free to spend more time with Jamie. Not just in the evenings over dinner or before bed, but to share all moments of the day. Sharing space, and food, and sights, and smiles.

A warm hand settled on her shoulder – and she startled.

“Hush, a nighean,” Jamie soothed. “I’m sorry, I thought ye had heard me.”

Swallowing, she turned to face him. Touched his stubbly cheek with the back of a hand. Worrying the new fine lines at the creases of his eyes.

“It’s all right.” Her voice just above a whisper. “I missed you.”

A fleeting half smile, his hands enveloping her free hand, squeezing. “I told ye I wouldnae go far. I didn’t.”

He knew what she would do even before she did – and he was ready, lips soft and strong as she kissed him.

“I miss you.”

He drew her closer, arms locked around her waist. “We’ve time, before Ian returns…”

Her lips just lightly touched his, beath warm against his mouth. “You must feel it. The need. How strong it is.”

He swallowed, nodding. Touched a small spot in the middle of his chest. “Right here.” His hand settled on her stomach, above her navel. “And here.”

She nodded. “It’s always there, but…more now. Like when we were on the road.”

His hand glided up, tracing the buttons of her shirt, settling on the cool skin of her neck. Eyes locked on hers. Watching her lips part in a small gasp.

He smiled. “Gathering your wee herbs. We fooled nobody – no’ Dougal, or Ned, or Murtagh, or Rupert. Willie, maybe. But I didna care. I had to have you.” Leaned in for a quick kiss. “I wanted your body, but I craved your heart. I have it now, aye?”

Another quick kiss. “I didn’t think I could ever feel this again. Is it because we have lost everything else?”

Frowning, he pulled back a bit. “What are you saying? We haven’t, Claire.”

“We have.” Her hands skimmed his shoulders – worried a new tear in the back of his shirt that she’d need to mend later – eyes fixed on a tree behind him. “We’ve lost our home, our family, our responsibilities. Our routine. No more farming or whisky making for you. No more patients for me. No more waiting for Missus Bug’s dinner, or sitting with you in your study as you talk to the tenants. No more…” She cleared her throat. “No more reading with Bree and Jem by the fire.”

High above, a hawk cried out.

“Don’t hide from me. Look at me, please.”

She didn’t want to – but she did. Found his eyes shining with the same tears.

“Do you no’ remember what I said to you once? That nothing is lost, only changed, Claire.”

She did remember – a night in these same woods, not too long after enduring yet another loss.

“We haven’t lost our memories. Our family isnae wi’ us right now, but they’re alive and safe. Our tenants can bide wi’out us for a while, but we’re coming back. When we’re in Wilmington, and in Scotland, you’ll have patients again and I’ll find my way again. Changes, aye, but not losses.”

He brought his forehead against hers. “I haven’t lost you, Claire. You haven’t lost me.”

She closed her eyes, nodding.

“I can’t even bear to think about what’s to come. If I was to lose you on the crossing.”

“Dinna think of it.” He kissed her cheek.

She shifted slightly and found his mouth in another kiss.

Another kiss.

“We’ve time afore Ian returns wi’ supper, a nighean. That is, if you’re not too decrepit to lie wi’ me in the leaves.”

She smiled against his lips. “I’ll grab a blanket.”

When Ian returned with a pheasant, sometime later as dusk settled in the forest, he frowned that the fire had not yet been started. But he lit it, set to work plucking the bird, sorted the spices and knives. Knowing his auntie and uncle would be quite hungry.

[murtagh-thorn]

Murtagh Taking Care of You When Sick

For @ivorydragoness44! Sorry this took so long, but I hope you enjoy!

Please be aware that I haven't read Murtagh's book yet (hopefully will start it soon), so no spoilers please!

You and your dragon knew staying out in the storm was a bad idea, but you both had a job to do and people to save, so you were gonna get it done dammit. But what started as a sprinkle ended with a bolt of lightning striking an already precarious-looking tree right next to you. The edge knocked you hard enough to cause damage, but luckily nothing that wouldn’t heal over time.

Your dragon had rushed you back to Eragon’s academy where he and Murtagh were anxiously waiting. Murtagh’s face paled once he saw your state and he immediately rushed forward to help, insisting on carrying you to the healers’ wing of campus.

Although he doesn’t take over the situation, he hovers close by as you recover, ever ready to answer questions for you during coughing fits, get you tea, rearrange your pillows, etc.

At first, he’s terrified of being in the way or annoying you, so hangs back so much that sometimes you don’t even realize he’s there until you need something and he suddenly materializes. Of course, if you sent him away he would go, but would be sad, worried, and thinking of you the entire time, pacing back and forth in his quarters so much that Thorn starts to tease him about wearing a hole in the floor.

Once you assure him his presence is welcome and a relief, he’s more than happy to stay. While you’re still in the healers’ wing, Thorn keeps your dragon company and Murtagh makes sure to bring you the good meals from the mess hall versus the quick, on-hand “slop” they have there.

If you’re shaken up by your experience, he reminds you that you’re safe now and he’ll make sure no harm will come to you.

Of course while he thinks you’re asleep, you feel him hold and stroke your hand many times, as well as brush some hair away from your eyes. If you’re lucky, you might even catch him pressing a soft kiss to your knuckles or forehead.

A few times while you’re awake, his hand gently strokes your face—which he of course blows off as “just checking for a fever” with the reddest face you’ve ever seen before he mutters something about getting you more tea and disappearing.

Once you’ve been discharged to your own quarters, Murtagh of course is still ready to be at your beck and call, insisting it’s even more important that someone is around to help you now that the healers aren’t constantly available to you.

He’s still making you tea, bringing you food (and in some cases, even making soup or stew for you if the mess isn’t offering what you’re craving), stoking your fire as needed, and even helping with things like cleaning and laundry.

Now that he’s helping Eragon run his academy, he does have to leave for hours at a time to complete his tasks. But he always checks on you on the way back to his own quarters.

He’s very, very insistent that you eat and drink enough and is constantly checking in with your dragon to confirm that you are. Otherwise, it’s a homemade meal delivered straight to your doorstep.

If you’re the type that prefers company while you eat, he’ll gladly bring his meals to your quarters with you. Otherwise, you find little notes on your delivered meals saying to get well soon or some joke that always makes you laugh.

Once you’re well enough to be out and about again, he tries to hide how elated he is. But even if you’re oblivious, his dragon and those who know him well are not. He’s glued to your side as much as he can be for the next few days to make sure you’re actually better and if you even slightly cough or sniffle, he’s asking if you need anything.

He may or may not develop a little evening tea time ritual with you whenever you two have a free moment now because he enjoyed making it for you so much.

[modern-inheritance]

A while back I started tinking with a (never to be released, mind you, it’s nearly the same level of fucked up as the Galbatorix Wins AU I tinkered with earlier this year) Murtagh-AryaSwap!AU, where Durza takes Arya to Uru’baen a few weeks before Eragon is captured at Gil’ead.

For context of what I’m about to show, Firnen hatches for Arya and Galbatorix is able to control her through the hatchling. He still tried to ferret out Arya’s true name, but due to the months of torture it’s changed from what she knew, and she isn’t aware of it anymore (it would take time and reflection to find the changes, which I think is IC canon) so Galbatorix has to brute force his will and subjugate her the old fashioned way.

After a few months of this, Arya very grudgingly going along with what he wants, Firnen is large enough to fly with Arya and Durza, while alone with the elf, makes a few monologue worthy comments about how it feels to be the one to finally wipe out her race, asking if she would give him her mother as a gift for all the wonderful time they spent together, though, of course, that would only be when Galbatorix wasn’t using her for his own entertainment.

And Arya just snaps. Galbatorix has been essentially breaking her down to be the closest to wild/feral draconic pact as possible, and instilling rage and beyond fierce protectiveness over Firnen so that they have a raw bond he can exploit. The consequences of such attempts, though, is that Arya is once again mute and she flies off the handle with no self preservation at the drop of a hat, essentially a berserker that can harness wild magic and rip the fabric of the world when pushed.

Well, she does that and literally rips Durza’s heart out. The additional title of shadeslayer breaks whatever weak ties Galbatorix managed to make with portions of her name and she and Firnen escape to the wilds of Du Weldenvarden, hiding out from anyone and everyone until they can’t anymore. This is the aftermath of revealing themselves. Glen is the first to be able to approach them without hostile reaction, and Firnen kidnaps them both to where they’ve been staying.

Basically, I just wanted to show this: No matter the AU, Arya and Glenwing always have each other. And they will always be siblings for me.

[sparklepirate]

Eragon telling Murtagh and Thorn to change their true names as if that's something that they can just... Do. Right now. On the spot.

As if Murtagh is just gonna be like "Oh shit really that's all it takes?? Aight cool let me just change my core identity real quick."

"Please, Murtagh, Thorn, will you not at least try what I've suggested? Have you no desire to resist Galbatorix? You will never cast off your chains unless you are willing to defy him." Like- Eragon- Buddy-

WHAT are they supposed to do RIGHT NOW? They were receptive from the very moment you brought it up. Was he like "Oh my god yes Eragon of course what a perfect flawless idea!!" No, he wasn't, but he was OPEN to it. He's being cautious and skeptical because he has to be- he's always had to be- but he's doing the VERY BEST he can do and saying "Yeah we'll look into it!" And you're like "Oh but won'T you PLEASE just consider it and do it right now??" Like??? What do you WANT HIM TO DO Eragon??

Also like- "Have you no desire to resist Galbatorix?" What do you THINK Eragon?? Do you think he and his dragon are mind slaves because they just looooove Galbatorix?? Do you remember him telling you they were fucking tortured??? Not only before the Battle of the Burning Plains, but afterwards too, when he LET YOUR SORRY ASS GO FREE? Do you not see "exploiting a technical loophole in his oaths to save his master's mortal enemy" as a form of resistance??? Eragon?????

[alagaesia-headcanons]

I've Had A Thought. I was thinking about the scene where Eragon is reminiscing over Brom's message to him as his father, and how Eragon is confounded and troubled that he in no way mentioned Murtagh. I found it a little sad that, for whatever reason, Brom decided Murtagh didn't bear mentioning. Then it crossed my mind to consider the possibility that Brom didn't know about Murtagh at all.

As it turns out, Eragon actually does think about it in that scene- he says, "He must have known about Murtagh. He couldn't not have." And admittedly I don't think this is the most likely scenario or that it's now my personal interpretation of canon, but the idea really has captivated me. Because it actually does fit within the facts! (the new book notwithstanding)

Brom was a gardener at Morzan's estate for three years, and while it's probably more likely that he learned about Murtagh in that time, I think it's certainly feasible for him to never know. Morzan was very determined to keep him hidden and took a lot of precautions to ensure just that. Oromis said Morzan forced all his servants to swear fealty and Brom found a flaw in his wards to infiltrate, and possibly he was able to do so because a job as a gardener didn't require such strict oaths because it wasn't in proximity to Murtagh.

Again, it may not be the most likely, but I can absolutely believe Selena might not have told him either. She also would have been aware of the serious danger Murtagh was in and would've wanted him to stay hidden. Even after Brom told her who he was and she started working with the Varden, she might have kept it secret. For one, Brom's hatred of Morzan is described as extreme and all consuming, and that it never waned with time. Even if she came to believe that Brom wouldn't harm Murtagh, she might not have trusted he could look at him kindly. And of course, telling him about her child with Morzan also risked damaging their relationship considering that they were lovers. Then there's the possibility that Selena did build all this necessary trust to tell Brom about Murtagh if he wasn't aware of him already, but it was too late for her to discuss it with him before she died. So I think it is conceivable that Brom actually never knew about Murtagh's existence.

Where this concept really shines is in an AU where Brom survives after Murtagh saves them from the Ra'zac. I've always liked these, and I sometimes toy with my own, but there's so many ways Brom could react and I've never been able to settle on one well enough to get invested in it. But I find this SUCH a fascinating take on it (especially if you wave off the detail that Murtagh's voice sounds ~exactly like~ Morzan's, which I tend to do). Brom recovers and meets their rescuer, and he has no idea he's looking at Morzan and Selena's son. Murtagh seems terribly familiar, but Brom has been relentlessly haunted by his past for so long now that he doesn't put much stock in the perceived similarities. Meanwhile, Murtagh realizes that Brom truly does not know that he's the son of the man he murdered, a precarious but welcome relief. Because he doesn't know- up until Murtagh's confession in the valley.

Brom is stunned by disbelief. It can't be true, Morzan had no children, because surely he would know, surely-! But another thought dawns on him, drowning out the memories of Morzan, because who could have been the mother of his child other than his wife: Selena? And Murtagh is looking at him with fear, fear that he'll turn on him because he shares the blood of the man Brom hated most. It's heart wrenching, because even as part of his mind tells him that maybe he should scorn him, Brom is looking at this man who single handedly saved him from the brink of death and saved Eragon and Saphira from far worse at the hands of Galbatorix, and who has given them extraordinary devotion ever since.

In his core, he accepts the truth of Murtagh's claim as he explains his past and recounts the story of his parents exactly how Brom knows it to be. The paradigm shift sends him reeling. Murtagh believes Brom is affected only because of his past with Morzan; he has no way of knowing what he felt for Selena. He still glances at him nervously, especially as he admits that he briefly intended to serve Galbatorix, yet then there's also a spark of trust and gratitude- maybe even hope- in his eyes when Brom doesn't rescind the way he vouched for him when they were stopped inside the gates. How could he? Murtagh has accomplished one thing neither Morzan nor Selena ever did: escape.

Despite everything, his aching heart feels something fiercely like pride. He would not dare ruin that for him.

Then to further prove the truth, like the world is laughing at his years of ignorance, Ajihad recognizes him, because after Murtagh was brought to Uru'baen, the Varden's spies informed him of Morzan's son. But of course, that was after Brom cut himself off and started living in Carvahall, so he never learned of that discovery. "Morzan's son" is said over and over, but in Brom's mind, that idea is far eclipsed by Selena's son. He's hurt and ashamed to realize he never knew something so significant about the woman he loved. And he feels guilty that Murtagh struggled for so long in Uru'baen because no one was there to save him when he was left helplessly alone. Brom must have been so close to him when he arrived right after Selena's death, but he just didn't know.

Brom is utterly at a loss. How can he process Murtagh- the child of Selena and Morzan, Eragon's half brother, and in a certain sense, his own stepson? What can he do now? He was already so terrified of telling Eragon the truth of being his father, and now he has another staggering revelation to inflict on Eragon and Murtagh both. The prospect feels terrifyingly impossible, but keeping his secrets has grown even more painful. Watching how easily and how well Eragon and Murtagh get along is now bitterly ironic. Even without knowing it, Murtagh is a great older brother, waiting vigilantly near his side after the battle. The injury Durza inflicted scared Brom in a way he can't put into words; he simply could not bear to lose Eragon. How could he risk that happening without telling Eragon how much he loves him and values him as his son? But telling him truth could be the quickest way to lose him. And now, with Murtagh, he has more to lose than he ever realized.

-And because Murtagh deserves it, I like all these changes resulting in the Twins never getting the chance to kidnap him, and so Brom has to figure out how to make the three of them into a family <3