Chatterbox: Inkwell

Murtagh/Nasuada Fanfic

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I guess I started to write it.

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Briars

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Chapter 1

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Nasuada. That was the first thought Murtagh had when he woke up. He hadn’t breached the subject for many months. He now vividly remembered her smile, the way her eyes seemed to understand his situations. He wished he hadn’t gone into rehabilitation. But it was inevitable.

My briar. A large red dragon landed in front of him. He could see clearly through his shelter, the dragon, but he did not even blink. All he did was, well, nothing. At least not on the outside.

Thorn, don’t call me that. It makes me sound like a girl. Also, it’s a terrible pun. Murtagh cast out his thoughts, and Thorn let out a puff of smoke that smelled like burned herbs. I will call you what I want.

Murtagh sighed, for the first time in the day, and got up. He inspected himself in a pool of water that he kept for scrying. He looked the same as he had looked when he met Thorn, but his ears were pointed. That didn’t surprise him.

He turned around, and twisted his head to get a view of his back. He lifted his nightshirt up slightly, and saw his scar, as large as two hands. It brought back fresh, painful memories. Nasuada. Thorn was the one to say it this time.

I know, Murtagh retorted. He dressed and sat on his cot. Go eat, my briar, Thorn told him, I caught two eagles, and took a look at the best berry patch, where prey gathers. Go get some wildberries.

Murtagh entered Thorn’s mind and found the memory. He was about to go when Thorn said, You really should go find her. Why do you hesitate?

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“Do we really have to do this?” Murtagh yelled above the wind.

Well, you decided to find Nasuada. Thorn laughed. Murtagh grumbled, and pulled a berry from his satchel, and tossed it in the air. A small sparrow snatched it in midair, and darted away.

They were crossing the Hadarac Desert. Sand swirled below them. Suddenly Murtagh spotted a dark shape on the desert ground. “I see a person!” he shouted to Thorn.

I’ll land. Thorn returned. They landed on a dune and saw the person. She was a woman, about forty, with raven black hair. Her complexion was pale, and she sea green eyes. Her hair was close-cropped, and neatly tied in a braid. She looked at Murtagh and Thorn, and promptly fainted, like a lady of quality.

Murtagh lunged forward, and barely catched the woman. Who is she? Thorn asked.

“How should I know. All I can tell is that I think I’ve seen her face before,” Murtagh answered.

And what are the chances of that? Nearly nobody intentionally goes into the Hadarac! Thorn protested.

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What do you think?