#brom just doesn't know how to react or parent

[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

[weirdponytail]

Modern Inheritance, Fill #1: Eragon being a Dumbass

Prompt: I want Eragon being a dumbass when Murtagh is the only one to look after him, or the aftermath when Brom finds out about the dumbass thing.

“You wanted to look...at a greenhouse?” Murtagh stared down the long rows of planters, dumbstruck. “Why?”

“Are you kidding me?” Eragon spun around and threw out his arms. “This place is amazing! Do you understand just what they're doing here?”

The giddy smile plastered on Eragon’s face was a welcome sight. It had only been twenty four hours since the Rider had been released from his room in Tronjheim’s hospital. With Saphira and Brom doing their best to help the dwarves stabilize damaged tunnels and Arya practically asleep on her feet between meals, Eragon had expected to be cooped up in the Elves old embassy. Murtagh had been his rescuer.

The two youths had spent the day walking around the dwarves city mountain, following sights, sounds and smells that struck their fancy. 

A fountain gurgling hot water into a stone tub down an alley had occupied their attention for well over an hour as residents of the nearby living quarters happily cooked food in the steaming basin. Both Eragon and Murtagh had been urged to share in the simple feast, and left with full bellies. 

Down one hall, Murtagh discovered that the massive hexagonal garnets, square pyrite and triangular topaz plates that mosaiced the wall played musical notes when pressed. At Eragon’s behest, he had lifted the Rider up on his shoulders to hit the high notes and wobbly played the bass end of their favorite songs. 

Not long after, Eragon had suddenly perked up and pulled Murtagh after him into a bright room that smelled of composted, moist earth and hummed with UV lighting. 

Murtagh crossed his arms, a little amused at Eragon’s enthusiasm. “They’re growing food. In a cave.” 

Eragon’s smile, if even possible, grew wider. “They’re growing wildly different plants in the same spot. Look, look!” He again grabbed Murtagh by the wrist and pulled him to the closest raised bed, pointing to a short plant with ragged edged leaves. “Look, this is strawberry. But other there, on that corner, that’s a blueberry bush. Blueberries need acidic soil but strawberries prefer neutral. These two shouldn’t be growing so well in the same bed!” 

Eragon dashed off again, pointing out the plants he knew and chattering excitedly about their proper growth conditions and how the climate for some of them shouldn’t be attainable underground but somehow the dwarves had to be using magic to alter spaces around specific plants to allow them to flourish. Murtagh followed a bit more slowly, taking in the smell of pungent herbs as they wandered into an area apparently dedicated to their growth. He wouldn’t admit it aloud, but it was nice to just take a moment and appreciate the simple lives of plants. 

“No way!” Murtagh jerked, startled by Eragon’s raised voice. He realized then that the young Rider had disappeared from his sight, and with a sudden pang of anxiety he bolted down the green corridor. 

Brom always said Eragon was a magnet for trouble, and Murtagh believed him. ‘I can’t leave him alone for two bloody minutes!’

The young man skidded to a stop, heart pounding...to see Eragon happily cramming a handful of leaves into his mouth. 

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?!” Murtagh rushed forward, grabbing the younger boy by the cheeks. “Spit it out! You don’t know what that is! I swear you’re worse than a bloody puppy!”

Eragon grinned and pushed Murtagh back, swallowing his newfound treat as he did. “I know exactly what it is!” He plucked another leaf from the bushy plant that practically spilled over the edges of the raised bed in front of him and held it out. “This is Virestalk. It grows all over Palancar Valley. It helps you get back on your feet after being sick.” He offered the leaf to Murtagh. “Want some? It’ll probably help you get over that concussion.” 

“...I think I’ll pass on the magically grown plant in the magical garden with apparent energy restoring properties.” Eragon shrugged and popped the leaf into his mouth before grabbing two handfuls off the bed and shoving them into his pockets. “Come on. It’s almost dinner time. Arya’s probably awake by now and losing her mind over where you are.” 

“Can we stop at that little place we passed earlier with the chicken kebabs? I’m getting hungry again….”

~~~

Murtagh paused, flattening himself against the wall to allow a group of dust coated dwarves past as he looked around. Eragon had fallen behind again, and, with a few choice swears, Murtagh followed behind the grimy workers and retrace his steps.

He found the young Rider staring into the window of an empty shop. 

“Hey. That’s not the chicken stall you know. They’re going to run out by the time we get there if you don’t hurry up.”

Eragon slowly turned his head to stare at his friend. He blinked twice, eyelids moving almost comically slowly before he slurred out, “Murtagh...there’s so many colors.”

Murtagh stared back. “...What?”

“The parrot. It’s got...so many colors. Where’d you find it?” He raised an arm and pointed towards Murtagh’s shoulder. “Where’d you come from, bird?”

‘...Oh. Oh this is not going to go over well.’

~~~

“Why do you smell like...oooooh like cotton candy?” Murtagh did his best to resist the urge to just drop Eragon down the short flight of steps leading up to the embassy door as the boy nuzzled his face against his sleeve. 

Instead he grit his teeth. “Because I was born in a cotton candy factory.” Really, it would be so easy. Just...sling him over his head from where he was draped across Murtagh’s shoulders and dump him down like a sack of unruly potatoes. 

Eragon let out an impressed gasp as his human transport kicked the embassy door, yelling for Arya to open it. “Woooooow! Are you made of cotton candy?” 

“Don’t you DARE–” 

Both stopped dead, Eragon with his teeth halfway to Murtagh’s arm and Murtagh flexing in preparation to throw him, as the door swung open to reveal not a very groggy elf, but instead a rock dust sprinkled Brom. 

He took in the scene with a deadpan expression before asking, in an equally deadpan voice, “What the hell is this?”

“Just let us in and let me put him down, will you? He’s heavier than he looks.” 

By the time Murtagh had deposited Eragon on the couch, Arya had dragged herself out of her room to see what was happening. She took a cursory glance at her charge where he lay ‘catching butterflies’ that floated around his head, sniffed the air twice, gave an amused snort, and settled into an open armchair to sleep again. “I smell Divining Sage. Nice going, Murtagh.”

Brom rounded on the young man. “You let him eat Divining Sage?! Do you have any idea what the hell–”

There was a crash from the direction of the embassy’s warehouse where Saphira usually settled down. 

“S’all right. I’ll get it.” Arya waved Brom off and pulled herself out of the chair. “Keep tearing into him.”

Murtagh felt his face going red. 

What the hell? What the hell. So they all foist Eragon off onto him and when something, because it’s ALWAYS something with Eragon, happens because the boy’s a complete idiot when it comes to self preservation, they all blame him? 

“Divining Sage is a fucking hallucinogen, why– how did you even find–” Brom threw up his arms, a flabbergasted mix of angry and confused as to how the situation even came to be. “Are you THAT DENSE?!”

“I don’t see you looking after him!” Murtagh angrily pointed to the Rider currently petting an invisible cat and cooing nonsensical praise to it. “You left him here alone with a practically anesthetized bodyguard and said ‘Yeah, sure Murtagh, keep him busy for a few hours!’” 

“I didn’t tell you to get him high, you idiot welp! Where did you even–”

“Oh don’t you blame that on me!” Murtagh jabbed a finger in Brom’s direction. Even as angry as he was at becoming the scapegoat for Eragon’s own idiocy, he knew better than to try and throw hands with the old man. “If I was going to get him high it wouldn’t be off some backwater psychedelics, it’d be off some proper Urû’baen kush and plenty of stout! He ate that crap himself!”

That finally gave Brom pause. “...He what?”

“He stuffed his face with it! I tried to stop him, but he said it was Vire-vine or something.” 

Brom slowly turned to stare at Eragon. Eragon smiled widely back before pointing and laughing at Brom’s face. 

Then the old Rider sat down and began to laugh as well.

“Virestalk. He thought...it was Virestalk.” He shook his head, chuckling. “Of course he did. They look almost identical. Damn fool probably wanted to give some to all of us to recover after the fight.”

Murtagh approached slowly. Now that Brom was no longer yelling, his own anger began to fade. He puzzled over what it was being replaced with before asking tentatively, “He’s...going to be okay, right?”

Brom sighed and nodded. “Yes. He’ll be fine. The effects wear off within a few hours. We’ll just have to watch him and Saphira till they do.” There was another crash of falling boxes in the warehouse, followed by faint Common Elvish swearing. “Hallucinations affect both partners so….” He gestured down the hall as Eragon took another swipe at a nonexistent Urgal. The sound of the boy’s war cry was mimicked by a loud growl from an apparently hallucinating Saphira. 

“Oh.” Murtagh paused. “We have a hallucinating dragon in the building.” 

“Yes. And it’s going to be a very long night.”