#murtagh really wants a dad tbh

[weirdponytail]

Modern Inheritance: Judge You Not/Blue-Black Arrogant Prick

Judgement Oneshots (Book 1 Murtagh and Brom Centric Stories): Judge Me Not  //  JUDGE YOU NOT

(A/N: A bit of a time jump continuation from Judge Me Not, we get some more interaction between Murtagh and Brom with Arya thrown in the mix. The secondary title is explained in the story.)

~~~

Murtagh rolled over, trying to find that one, inexplicably comfortable yet contorted position that would finally let him sleep. He was tired, very tired, after the headlong rush across the Hadarac and had been looking forward to the rest their hard won lead would bring.

But after at least a week and a half of traveling by night and sleeping by day, suddenly becoming diurnal again was not as easy as he had hoped.

He rolled over once more, mentally grumbling to himself when he saw that Eragon was sound asleep. The boy was tucked up next to Saphira, two thirds of his body under her wing and his head resting on a pile of unused clothes and blankets. He looked quite comfortable, his mouth open slightly and even a bit of drool on the side of his face.

Murtagh sat up, suddenly realizing that Arya was no longer stretched out near Saphira's foreleg where she had previously laid down to sleep. The blanket was still there, but neither the elf nor her combat-jacket-turned-pillow were to be seen.

"–rather not go there so soon. I've only been able to teach them how to survive, and I've been having a tough time doing even that." Murtagh whipped his head around as Brom's rough whisper reached his ears. Two dim silhouettes sat on the short, rocky protrusion that hid their camp, keeping watch over the landscape. "Eragon has the uncanny ability to get into trouble the moment he moves more than fifty yards from Saphira. If we went to the forest now, they'd laugh at all of us."

A light scoff sounded as the slimmer of the two figures shifted, pulling a leg up to their chest. "No, they'd sing praises to Saphira and pat you on the head for trying your hardest. Eragon would need a bit more work before they would go crazy for him, but they'd still clap politely, I'm sure."

"...You're probably right."

"Yeah, well, I know my people. Always gotta be polite and proper in the pines."

Murtagh grabbed his rifle and slung the strap across his chest before clambering up the rocks. Both Brom and Arya turned to him as he heaved himself over the edge.

"Can't sleep." He said at their questioning gazes. "Bloody body clock is shot to hell. Mind if I join you?"

Brom gestured with his unlit pipe to an open patch of stone. "Sit yourself down, then." They arranged themselves in a roughly triangular position, each able to take in a section of the area while also carrying on polite conversation.

But, knowing the three distinct personalities arrayed before them, polite conversation wasn't likely to happen.

In the quiet that followed, Murtagh became increasingly aware that Arya was studying him with a disturbing intensity. Her eyes flicked over his face, darting from one feature to the next, and he subconsciously leaned back a bit.

"...What?" Murtagh leaned back a little more, finally breaking the silence. "Oi, I know you're taken in by all this–" he extravagantly gestured to his face and body with both hands, hiding how unsettled he was with his usual sassy smugness, "–like the other ladies, but no need to try and devour me with your eyes, lass."

Still intent on examining him the elf responded offhandedly, "Don't flatter yourself. And what did I tell you about calling me that?" Before Murtagh could protectively grab his rifle to prevent the magazine from being shoved up his nose, Arya suddenly sat bolt upright and snapped her fingers. "Got it!" She looked to Brom, a slight frown on her face. "Why didn't you tell me?"

Brom grunted, clamping his teeth on his pipe stem. With the amount of chomping the old man did on it, Murtagh wouldn't be surprised if it had some magic worked into the wood to prevent it from splintering.

"What's going on?" Murtagh crossed his arms. He didn't like it when the two elder members of their little group shared secrets or their weird little nonverbal signals. "If it involves me, I have a right–"

Arya cut him off and pointed to his right eye. "Blue." Then his left. "Black." Her lip twitched into a surprisingly fierce snarl. "Arrogant, psychopathic, warmongering, traitorous, race-murdering PRICK."

Brom let out an uncharacteristic snort, pulling his pipe out of his mouth. Murtagh realized it was a choked off laugh, and scowled at him. "Why is it that everyone only remembers my father, huh? He's dead. Let me live my life, not his."

"I wasn't laughing at that. I've just never heard the bastard described so...simply." Brom chuckled again. "I'm surprised it took you this long, Arya."

"It's not like I shook Morzan's hand and got to know him as well as you bloody did." Arya tossed her braid over her shoulder and clasped her hands together, her anger fading. "Besides, I never thought he'd have a son." She regarded the aforementioned offspring with one of her signature blank expressions, eyes searching his face again. "His mother must have been the Black Hand, wasn't she, Brom? You must have known."

Just like before, Brom shifted slightly at the mention of Murtagh's mother, a strange light flashing through his startling blue eyes. It was gone just as quickly as it had appeared, though, and the old man gave an affirmative grunt.

"Oi!" Murtagh snapped, rage starting to bubble in his gut. He could feel the vein on his forehead starting to stand out, and that made him even angrier. "Stop talking about me as if I'm not even HERE!" Both adults looked to him. "I am not my father's son! So judge me not by his actions! I am my own man!"

A faint smile touched Arya's lips, and she nodded. "Aye. Don't worry, Murtagh. I judge you not by your father but by you alone. Family shouldn't be the sole point on which someone is judged, especially if they were not raised by them." The elf knit her fingers together and rested her chin on them, expression again serious. "Your father was a terrible person, and I'm sure out of all of us in Alagaësia, you know that fact better than anyone. But, unlike some children who would turn their rage against the entire world, you have chosen to take your anger and skills and do what you can to fight against what Morzan and Galbatorix wrought. From what I have seen of you, you are a good man, and don’t deserve any prejudgement based on your father’s actions.

“Unless you're a spy, in which case I'd congratulate you on getting this far, and then promptly kill you." She flashed him a dangerous, sharp toothed grin. 

Brom nodded sagely in agreement, then locked eyes with Murtagh. "Oi. I'm only going to say this once, so listen carefully, whelp." Murtagh's snarl returned at the old man's use of his usual, insulting name for him, but Brom put his hands up. "Peace. Just hear me out this one time. I won't repeat what I'm about to say. Ever."

He took his pipe from between his lips and rolled it between his fingers before again looking Murtagh in the eye. "You've proved yourself quite a bit since you've joined us. I can say with confidence that you are not your father's son, and I knew the bastard since he was younger than you are now. You have a sense of morality and sound judgement that he never had, even if your justifications for that judgement are usually driven by your survival code." Murtagh's scowl fell. As Brom spoke, the young man's expression turned from one of red-faced frustration to disbelief, his mouth slightly open as the old man pointed the stem of his pipe at him. "You've been...invaluable, in helping me protect Eragon and Saphira. And you probably saved the Varden by rescuing Arya while at Gil'ead, as she's the only one who can secure the elves support for the rebellion again.

"What I'm saying is that I judged you prematurely. And I...apologize."

Murtagh stared at the old Rider, trying to find the words to explain the unexpected welling of emotion in his chest. "Brom, I…I don't know how to..." He faltered, and resumed gaping at him.

"You can start by closing your mouth." Brom snapped gruffly. "You'll catch flies like that, whelp."

Arya raised her eyebrows and leaned towards him. "I think you broke the poor boy."

The young man shook himself out of his stupor. "No, no, it's just…. I figured if I could get you, Brom, of all people, to see that I'm not some demon spawn then I could live my life in peace. And now that you just confirmed it, I can't. I have to keep fighting the King."

Brom snorted and stuck his pipe back in his mouth. "Oh, you're a demon's spawn, there's no denying that." He growled. "You're just not acting like a demon. Kudos to you, whelp."

"Lay off him, Brom. You can't just turn around like that after giving him such a heartfelt speech." Arya swatted the old man on the arm, to which he grumbled and pushed her.

Murtagh rubbed his face, feeling even more drained after the emotional joyride the two had just put him on. "Bloody children, the both of you."

Arya smirked. "I'm not the one up past his bedtime."

The young man threw his hands up. "Alright! Alright, I get it. I'll try to sleep again." He stood and moved to start climbing back down to the clearing, then paused. "Thanks for what you said. The both of you."

"Don't get all sappy on us." Brom growled, crossing his arms. "You still have quite a bit of proving to do, whelp."

"Sure, Brom. Whatever you say." He smiled, and for a moment Brom saw a flash of bright teeth and dark hair, a laugh echoing in his ears. Then both the memory and Murtagh were gone, the man clambering down the short cliff to collapse on his sleeping bag.

The old Rider blinked, trying to clear his head, and found Arya regarding him with a slightly concerned expression. "Oh, what? Are you going to start telling me what my father looked like now?"

Arya’s light frown did not ease as shook her head, fringes of hair that had escaped her braid flicking about her face. "No. Just thought I saw something." They lapsed into comfortable silence, once again facing out over the land. A warm, dry breeze wafted through the woods from the nearby Hadarac and brushed over them, carrying the scent of the sands.

"It was hell crossing that." Brom muttered, chewing thoughtfully on his pipe again and silently lamenting that he couldn't light it without revealing their position. "But at least we're nearly to the mountains now. At this pace, another week and a half or two and we'll be with the Varden."

Arya hummed softly in agreement, her farseeing eyes picking out the distant campfires of the Urgal party following them. They blazed like bright candles to her sight, and she counted twenty before the camp stretched beyond her vision.

They stayed up for a while longer, talking about this and that and hashing out the possible responses the Varden could have to their arrival. It was an hour before Arya looked up at the sky, noting the new positions of the stars, and said, "You should catch some rest, old man. Your watch is over by my reckoning."

"You keep calling me old, Arya. I think my physique speaks for itself; I'm still quite spry, thank you very much." Brom stood and stretched his stiff joints, pointedly ignoring the chorus of pops and crackles that dampened his previous statement as the elf smirked. "I'll wake Eragon for his watch."

Arya waved him off. "Leave the kid be. Both he and Saphira have earned their sleep. I can take his watch."

"Again?" Arya shrugged. "You can't keep this up. You need to sleep just as much as we do, probably more since you're still healing."

"I'm fine, Brom. Really."

Brom frowned. In the dim light of the stars he could see that she was lying. Her skin had regained its usual tanned tone after trekking through the Hadarac, but over the last day or so she had paled slightly. Despite the cooler temperatures, a slight sheen of sweat was on her brow and she wore her combat jacket zipped all the way up as if she were freezing. "Anything you want to tell me?" She shook her head. "Arya, I can tell when something's up. Did another wound get infected again?"

"No." And she added firmly, "I'm fine."

"If you keep trying to deal with things like this on your–"

"Brom!" The old Rider's eyes snapped to hers. Arya's voice had taken on a sharp edge and held an unmistakable ring of authority that, despite the conversation they had held earlier, reminded Brom that some things were hereditary no matter the differences between parent and child. "Leave it. I'll be fine. We can talk about it later. Just go to sleep."

He regarded her with a steady gaze, keeping their eyes locked. His suspicions were confirmed when it was Arya who broke contact, looking away from him with her jaw clenched tight. "I hope you're right. And I hope you will tell me when whatever this is gets worse." He warned. "Remember what I told Murtagh, Arya. You're the only one who can get the Queen start supporting the Varden again. So for not just your sake, but the entire damn Varden's, I hope you're right." And he started the short descent back to camp.

Arya let out a breath and looked up at the pale stars. They twinkled above her, smugly winking as if they knew, as she did, that fire was burning in her veins.

The Shade smiled, pointed teeth gleaming. "It won't kill you right away, little elf. It won't even start to kill you until I tell it to." Arya gritted her teeth as the clear fluid in the syringe slid into her wrist and rushed through her bloodstream. "My own modified Skilna Bragh. You know, little elf, if you escape, and you run fast enough, you just might make it to your people or the Varden before it destroys you." And he winked at her, as if sharing in some private joke.

The elf closed her eyes and let her head fall back. She had to decide. Continue traveling with the others, leading not only the Urgals to the Varden's doorstep, but Durza as well and probably slowing the group down until she succumbed to the poison in her blood, or try to run to Ceris and deliver a dying declaration that would force the Queen to resume aiding the Varden.

No, she couldn't do that. It would lead Durza right to the elvish city.

Her last choice was grim. Leave the group at the mouth of the Beartooth River and turn back to the Hadarac. She could slow the Urgals as best she could, and die a warrior's death. It was preferable than dying of thirst or poison in the hellish sands.

Another swirl of wind flowed from the aforementioned desert. Arya sighed as it ghosted over her skin, her nerves tingling with the first uncomfortable prickles of pain, and looked back to where Brom was kicking his sleeping bag out on the ground. "Yeah, Brom," She murmured. "I hope so too."

[drunklander]

Drunj!Der Yells About Outlander

Thoughts on Ep. 412

Only one more week until Droughtlander, y’all! To start with the positive, I fucking love the Murgsali parts of this episode. Seriously, I know I sound like a broken record but saving Murtagh was literally the best choice this show has made. I would watch the shit out of a spin-off of just that trio’s adventures. Germain can come too.

I still can’t muster a single fuck, flying- or otherwise, to give about Roger. So basically this episode was pretty much like every other episode. I loved some shit, hated some shit, and overall came away with the lingering question of why I still spend so much time on a show that’s barely recognizable as the one I used to fucking love.

At least Dry January is still going strong. Quite proud of myself about that, tbh...

Roger: *runs the gauntlet* Marie Kondo: Does this spark joy? Me: Absofuckinglutely.

Guys I fucking love the Murtagh and Fergus relationship. I love it so fucking much. I cannot wait to see where that goes next season, especially since they’re all headed to live on the Ridge now.

And since this episode isn’t focused on LJG being in love with Jamie, I’m so here for him in this episode. I swear this show gives me whiplash with its characters. Like it’s not a “people are complicated” sort of thing. It’s a “crappy trope that needs to go away” or a “they just did something out of character, wtf” sort of thing.

I get Jamie not wanting Bree to murder Bonnet. I totally understand him not wanting her to have to live with taking a life. But I’m not fully on board with the whole “you need to forgive” stuff. Both here and in the book. Holding hate in your heart will eat away at you and prevent you from moving forward, sure. But you can put things behind you without forgiving the people who wronged you. What Bonnet did to Bree was fucking awful. He’s completely unrepentant. If Bree wants to forgive him, fine. It happened to her, so it’s her call and no one else’s how she should proceed. For me personally, I don’t think he’s worthy of forgiveness. I wouldn’t forgive him if it were me. I’ve thankfully never been in that exact situation, but I’ve been through my own shit and honestly, I’ve chosen not to forgive some people, because that’s asking me to not only endure what they did but also do the emotional work of forgiving them when they’re not sorry. That’s asking a bit too much, imo. Just put them aside and move on, it comes with its own sort of acceptance and peace. Each to their own, I guess.

“This man cannot be good. He was sold by his own people.” I mean, where’s the lie, haha. Yeah he was sold for the wrong reasons, and it’s never ok to SELL SOMEONE INTO SLAVERY (FFS!), but yes, Roger’s a twatwaffle.

“You have learned nothing.” The Mohawk elder speaks the truth, tbh.

Kaheroton telling Roger that he should not smile upon Johiehon had me like yaaas. Sure, Roger’s starved for human kindness or whatever, but like he’s also a chronic inappropriate interact-er with women/crush haver. Like he literally becomes a minster because people think he’s having an affair with one of the Ridge widows. He gets himself hanged because he kisses his great-great-etc.-grandmother. He’s creepily into Claire. I am so here for him being called out for being a fuckboi, haha.

This show is two for two in failing to make me care about rando fallen priests.

Marsali seeing right through Fergus’ attempt at blaming Germain and seeing exactly what he’s up and being like fuck yes, let’s do this thing is my fucking favorite.

I LOVE MARSALI A LOT OK. I AM FUCKING RIDE OR DIE FOR THAT WOMAN.

Y’all have I mentioned how much I fucking love Fersali? Because I fucking love Fersali. They remind me of what Claire and Jamie used to be. *pours one out for the couple that was*

Question though, are we assuming that Fergus knows all about Wentworth because they told him about it after he was raped for Jamie’s story in season two? Getting rull tired of being expected to fill in a bunch of shit that should be shown...

But man, I am so fucking pumped for them to move to the Ridge. I hope it means we get much more of them next season.

I know I’m biased because I have a lot of Opinions about organized religion but basically all this stuff with the priest has me just rolling my eyes. Like cool for him that he like believes in stuff, but also like, do what makes you happy, bruh? You only have one life? *exercises what little self-restraint I have to not go off on a ramble that ties this whole plot line into how being raised Catholic really fucked me up*.

I literalol’ed every time they show Roger trying to fucking Shawshank his way out of the fucking Idiot Hut. Like bro. This thing is made of leaves and branches. Just fucking snap the string or whatever is holding the branches in place and shift them enough to make a hole to squeeze out of.

The Idiot Hut is aptly named.

So in this episode, handfasting means they’re married again. I cannot even with how frustrating it is that this show can’t make up its mind about what it means.

This whole speech of Roger’s about how he’s an idiot is like yeah, no shit, Sherlock. You’re a fucking douchecanoe.

By the end of it, it comes off like he’s the guy from You. Like yeah, you didn’t deserve to be sold into slavery, but buddy. You’re not the victim in your relationship with Bree here. You might not be a serial killer, but your inner Joe Goldberg is showing...

“Like an idiot, I pursued her through time and space, determined to prove to myself and the universe that I did love this woman, just like all those great love stories written by all those great idiots.” Red flag number one, you wanted to prove to yourself and the universe that you loved Bree, but not prove it to Bree? The one person you’d think you’d want to make things right with?

"I pursued her and chased her and finally tracked her down and convinced her to marry me.” Holy fucking stalker, Batman. This comes off as the opposite of romantic. Get yourself a restraining order, Bree!

“We said angry words to each other.” That’s a funny way to say “I was a complete fuckwad to her,” Rog.

“I intended to go home, but then I changed my mind and went back, like an idiot.” Sorry not sorry, but if I were ever with a guy who thought choosing to be with me made him an idiot, I’d fucking run for the hills.

The writers clearly think this is supposed to be like endearing us to Roger and his love of Brianna but really it’s just making him seem like a fucking toxic stalker who’s convinced he’s a Nice Guy™. Roger just keeps channeling his inner Frank. He wants his personal ideal of a relationship with Brianna, with no thought to what she herself wants. He’s fucking repulsive, just like Frank was (even pre-stones). So naturally the show wants us to root for him. *wishes it were February so I could have a drink*

Uh, buddy? Do you know Johiehon wants to leave with the priest? Or are you just being you and assuming/not caring what the woman feels/wants for herself?

Fun fact, we’re still with these idiots in their Idiot Hut and I still can’t muster a single fuck to give about either of them.

Don’t @ me that I’m a dummy because I’m missing the deep and meaningful and yada yada whatever bullshit that they’re doing with these scenes. I know what they’re trying to do. It’s not working for me. At all. Sorry not fucking sorry.

#TeamBadFan5Eva

If we forget about the blackmail and rape threat and creepy being in love with her dad, I’m 10000% more invested in Bree and LJG’s fake engagement than I am in Bree and Roger. But jfc, that’s a lot to be asked to forget.

I’m still not really here for the Bree side of the prison stuff, but the Fergus and squad rescuing Murtagh part is excellent.

I really wish they would have put a definitive end to Bonnet in this episode. Ed Speelers does a great job with him, but he’s honestly not an interesting enough character to merit sticking around as long as he does in the books. Like if we have even more condensed seasons five and six, why the fuck can’t we just be done with him now?

FUCK YEAH FERGUS AND HIS REGULATOR SQUAD!

I hated Bree visiting Bonnet in the book and I really hate it here too. Like yes, if this is what Bree wants and she thinks it will help her, then great. She gets to decide what she wants to do. But this whole comforting your rapist thing just reeks of a fucking woman doing fucktons of emotional labor for the sake of the person who caused her so much fucking trauma. Literally the only part of this scene that remotely works for me is when she gets angry and tells him that he will be forgotten. Like, he’s a sociopath and he gives no shits about you or what he did to you. Why are you trying to make him feel better? I know it’s supposed to be for her, but that’s not how it plays to me...

Le sigh.

I fucking love the scene with Lord John and Fergus. Fucking love it.

(I’m guessing we’re supposed to assume that Fergus and Lord John met in Jamaica at the party in a bit we didn’t see? I think it might have been mentioned at some point, but I can’t remember specifics...)

Murtagh and Lord John fighting over who’s going to take Bree and then agreeing on what’s best for her? Here. For. It.

Y’all, I just want a whole show about this exact squad. Jamie and Claire are so meh now that it’s tough to be invested in them anymore. Roger’s still the fucking worst. But this squad. This squad is my fucking JAM.

But for real, why did we not get a scene where Bree meets Fergus and Marsali. Because this prison break is literally the first time we’ve seen them together and we don’t even know if they’ve met before. You’re killing me show.

Since Murgsali is moving to the Ridge, we’d better get a bunch of Bree and Jem with Marsali and Germain and Fergus next year.

This whole monologue of Roger’s as he’s deciding what to do is supposed to be like showing that he cares for people more than himself (despite his whole creepy spiel in the Idiot Hut) or some shit but like he’s just again ignoring what someone told him to do because that’s his MO. He’s like constantly playing the martyr card when no one even wants him around. Fuck off, Roger.

This priest and his girlfriend honestly don’t merit the amount of screen time they got. Like cool that Roger puts him out of his misery or whatever, but also this is the second to last episode so why the fuck are we spending it on two randos we don’t care about? Because it’s Outlander. So of course this is how we’re spending it.

Johiehon throwing herself into the fire is supposed to be like romantic and shit or reminiscent of Claire offering to die with Jamie at Culloden or whatever, but it really doesn’t work for me. Because honestly, she deserves better. The priest could have chosen to be with her but he picked his faith instead. So why should she die for a man who made her his second choice.

Also like, Kaheroton crying also comes off as creepy because like, dude she just wasn’t into you. Him being upset that Johiehon died doesn’t play like him being sad that a woman from his village killed herself, it comes across like the guy who was “friendzoned” (don’t get me started on that concept...) being sad the woman he was fixated on is gone so he doesn’t have a chance (he never had a chance) with her anymore.

But hey, remember how awesome Murgsali is? Murgsali is the fucking best.

MURGSALI 5EVA!!!

[its-moopoint]

Finally watched Episode 6

It was a good one. Makes for entertaining telly, deffo way better than first 3 episodes so while 4, 5 and 6 have been an improvement there’s still true that J&C passion is what’s lacking, which marks the difference between watching the episode when it comes out to follow the series and watching the episodes over and over again because they were that good. That ain’t gonna happen this season or hasn’t happened for me so far. 

But help me out here, other than the miniature portrait, this was Claire’s first time actually meeting Jamie’s son wasn’t it? Cause I wouldn’t be able to tell seeing her reaction in the show. It’s like William came every year to spend summer with them or something. Wasn’t she curious? Not even just a tiny little bit?? Come on! And also things keep happening out of the blue, we don’t get to see Murtagh giving Jamie the ring and his reaction and we don’t get to see any argument or confrontation between Jamie and Claire about LJG’s confession. I guess she is saving it as ammunition for later but really, she has a shock and struggles yet doesn’t feel the need to talk to Jamie about it before being intimate with him. One moment they are saying farewell to the gate crashers next thing we know Jamie is producing the ring like a magic trick out of nowhere (I guess they wanted us to be Claire in that scene and be surprised like from her POV but it’s been years since I’ve felt like Claire while watching the show tbh). 

The boy, I think they tried to go for the spoilt bratz that snubs everyone around like in the book to make it hard to like him but I didn’t know you achieved that with the “smell the fart acting”. 

Sam. You all know I’m not fan of him for himself, I was only interested in him as one half of the ship. I don’t follow his other projects or charity or anything and I wasn’t impressed by his acting the previous seasons being weirded out at times. Also God knows I’m never gonna forgive or forget his Shitner association. That’s too nasty to understand or explain away. Why am I stating this now? Easy, because this way you’ll know I’m not suspect when I say now that I think he owns this half of the season. He owns it. I’m very impressed by the wide range of emotions he manages to convey in a single episode in a convincing way. No over the top (apart from the love scenes that have their own issues with being coreographed now with the body blocking and do not touch do not lap rules) and a very realistic Jamie. I admit I have loved seeing him with boy being a proud dad. 

Fuck Frank. A good man was he Claire? Funny I was listening to Brilliant disguise by Bruce while cleaning the house and after watching the episode and this part reminded me of them: 

Now you play the loving woman, I'll play the faithful man But just don't look too close into the palm of my hand Well we stood at the alter, the gypsy swore our future was right But come the wee wee hours maybe baby the gypsy lied

And now I don’t know if I have written a recap, a review or a weird mix that doesn’t make sense but I’m not gonna re-read myself so here it goes.