FIC: Freedom is in the Mind [Inheritance Cycle, Murtagh]
Title: Freedom is in the Mind
Author: Omnicat
Unofficially Adapted From: Christopher Paolini’s Inheritance Cycle.
Spoilers & Desirable Foreknowledge: Eragon and Eldest
Warnings: None.
Characters & Pairings: Murtagh, mention of Eragon, Saphira, and (Murtagh x) Nasuada
Summary: If illusion is the only freedom he has left, he will hoard it while he can. // 100 words, set midway through the second book
Author’s Note: Excuse me, I must go word-search a .pdf of the recently released fourth book and read only those passages that deal with Murtagh. (And there you have my blame for why I’ve come back to this otherwise so very blah series once again.)
Freedom is in the Mind
Murtagh’s mind, once his fortress, spins in sleep a labyrinth of its own making.
In his dreams, his brother and Saphira soar through the sky and holler down their joy. An ever tiny red hatchling coils around his feet, its thoughts soft and fuzzy as they should be.
In his dreams, he does not wake alone. Nasuada - noble and fair and wise - lays her dark hand on his arm as they bend over scrolls and tomes. Sometimes she is Queen; sometimes there is no such thing as kings-queens-empires.
His dreams give away his secrets night after night.
He dreams gladly.
Author: Omnicat
Unofficially Adapted From: Christopher Paolini’s Inheritance Cycle.
Spoilers & Desirable Foreknowledge: Eragon and Eldest
Warnings: None.
Characters & Pairings: Murtagh, mention of Eragon, Saphira, and (Murtagh x) Nasuada
Summary: If illusion is the only freedom he has left, he will hoard it while he can. // 100 words, set midway through the second book
Author’s Note: Excuse me, I must go word-search a .pdf of the recently released fourth book and read only those passages that deal with Murtagh. (And there you have my blame for why I’ve come back to this otherwise so very blah series once again.)
Freedom is in the Mind
Murtagh’s mind, once his fortress, spins in sleep a labyrinth of its own making.
In his dreams, his brother and Saphira soar through the sky and holler down their joy. An ever tiny red hatchling coils around his feet, its thoughts soft and fuzzy as they should be.
In his dreams, he does not wake alone. Nasuada - noble and fair and wise - lays her dark hand on his arm as they bend over scrolls and tomes. Sometimes she is Queen; sometimes there is no such thing as kings-queens-empires.
His dreams give away his secrets night after night.
He dreams gladly.