Alright, I know this isn't an update for Maximum Ride (Sorry!), but I finished Inheritance, and I just had to write this! I've been waiting for Murtagh and Nasuada to get together since book 1. And I've been waiting for Murtagh to get out of Galbatorix's control since book 2! You have no idea how happy I was when his true name changed, and when he helped Nasuada out of her chains and she in return helped him walk over to Thorn. Plus the fact that he was even alive. (I sort of figured he would die on the good side.) I was like, 'Yes! They just might get together!' But then he left, and I wasn't too thrilled. So, here is my own version of where he comes back ten years later.

Alright, enough babbling.

Quick shout-out to Adin the Conqueror for helping me figure out the Ancient language! This wouldn't have been published without your help, so thank you! Also, a shout out to theAlphabet, who convinced me to post this in the first place. This story is for the both of you!

Okay, here's the oneshot!

Disclaimer: Don't own. If I did, they would be together. :'(

Murtagh stood outside the castle of Ilirea, Thorn's consciousness enveloping his own from his perch outside of the great city, keeping watch while staying hidden. It had been nigh on ten years since he had left, and the hate in his heart was almost completely gone, replaced instead with need and hope. Need to see the ones he loved again. Hope that they would accept him as he craved.

Staring at the magnificent building before him, Murtagh felt fear momentarily clench his heart. Quickly, he squelched it down as he had taught himself to in the caverns of the woods. This was it. This was what he had been wanting to do ever since he left so long ago, back when Ilirea was Urü'baen and Galbatorix had just died. This was it.

The thought terrified him.

Murtagh sighed, letting the air trap itself deep within his lungs before releasing through his nostrils, calming his thoughts. It was time. He could do this. He would go up there, surprise her in her chambers -for it was nigh on three in the morning- then watch as the shock played on her face before turning into-

What? Rage? Terror? Wonder?

Murtagh cursed to himself, willing his feet to move forward and face his fate. How would she react? he wondered. Would she cry, overjoyed with happiness at his return? (Murtagh scoffed at himself for such a thought.) Or would she scream, cursing his name and shouting for her guards to take him away? (The more believable of the two.) Murtagh didn't know, but the lack of knowledge left him with cold feet, unable to move onward or back where Thorn lay hidden in the trees outside of the city's walls. All he could do was stand there, the feelings of worry and doubt clouding his mind, bringing no comfort to his uncertainties.

Would you move already?

The sound of his dragon's deep voice cut through Murtagh's mind, startling him enough to make him jump physically. Closing his eyes, he strained to calm his rapidly beating heart. Don't do that, he scolded, taking deep breaths as his heart began to slow.

I'm sorry, Thorn responded, his top lip curled in a chuckle that made it through their link. But it is chilly, and I am currently stuck in a very uncomfortable position between two very close trees.

So move, Murtagh chided, opening his eyes to roll them before looking around.

Thorn scoffed. Easier said than done, Rider, he responded, sending Murtagh a picture of him currently compressed between two oddly put trees, the image sending a chuckle from Murtagh's lips. It's not funny! Thorn retorted, ending the picture. It's very uncomfortable here!

I told you you should have hidden in the desert, Murtagh smirked. Or around the Ramr River.

Thorn snorted, the smell of smoke prominent through their link. Just get on with it, he said, an image of him nodding Murtagh along flashing in his mind. She is waiting.

The slight disturbance had paused Murtagh's worrying for the moment, but once Thorn mentioned her again, they crashed upon him, making him hesitate. What if she'll not have me? he asked, his voice soft, as if he were frightened that someone would overhear.

Thorn sighed, and Murtagh could swear that the wind gushed around him at the same time. You won't know until you try, he responded, ever the wise one of the two.

Murtagh grunted, then willed his feet forward, heading for the side of the castle where Nasuada's chambers sat. Tapping into his energy, he whispered, "Audr," then flew up, rising off of the ground and flying to the balcony, where he ended the spell. His feet fell almost soundlessly against the concrete, barely making a sound in the cool night air. Looking around, he made sure that none of her guards had heard him, his heart beating rapidly in anticipation. When he looked before him, though, it stopped altogether.

Through the glass of the doors to her room, Nasuada lay in slumber, her chest rising and falling evenly as her mind swam deep with dreams.

Murtagh froze as he beheld her, fist bobbing in his throat as he swallowed. She was as beautiful as he remembered her. Sure, there were a few more blemishes than he remembered, more maturity in her auburn skin, and yet she still looked the youthful eight-of-ten year old young woman he remembered her to be. Now, the fact that he looked exactly the same as he left worried him. Not because he didn't wish to be with her -far from it- but because he worried she didn't wish to be with him, a man seemingly to be so young. The thought yet again stopped him short, afraid to move forward.

Go ahead, Thorn's voice insisted.

Murtagh complied. He walked up to the doors with silent footsteps. "Jierda," he whispered, watching as the lock broke with a slight Pop! the door swinging open at its own accord. Murtagh entered the room, silently making his way to Nasuada's bed, stopping at the foot of it. Extending himself, he carefully probed her thoughts, allowing her to know it was him.

The attack he encountered startled him. He squelched his eyes shut tight, grabbing the bed post for support. It was as if a knife was stabbing into his brain, sending him reeling back, trying to return to his body. But the attack was too strong, and the conscience held him in an iron grip, keeping him in place. Behind the attack, he dimly heard Nasuada's voice as she repeated the same poem she had used to block his thoughts almost a decade ago. This was most definitely Nasuada. Where had she learned to do this?

Dimly, Murtagh felt someone grab his throat, pushing him back against the wall, the hand quickly replaced by a dagger. The cold steel of the weapon almost punctured his skin before he felt the shock flood his mind, then felt as the attack left him entirely, leaving him breathless, sweet relief flooding him. "Murtagh?" he heard both in his mind and his ears, shock and disbelief apparent in both. "Is that you?"

Slowly, Murtagh opened his eyes, revealing Nasuada before him, eyes wide, mouth opened in an "O". "Thornessa er eka, Murtagh," he answered as she did, in both thought and tongue. This is I, Murtagh.

She stared at him for a moment, until a pounding came upon the door, startling them. "Is everything alright, my Queen?" a gruff voice called from the other side of the door, followed by more pounding. "Queen Nasuada!"

Nasuada placed the dagger underneath her pillow, motioning for Murtagh to stay silent. Quickly, before her guard crashed in, she went to the door, opening it just as Murtagh made himself invisible. Now it seemed as if she were alone as she opened the door. "Yes, Garning?" she asked, as if she had no idea why he was bothering her.

"My Queen," the man -Garning- began, looking about the room. "We heard a noise. It sounded as if someone was was thrown against the wall, my Queen! Are you well?"

"I am perfectly fine," she countered, every bit the woman whom Murtagh had left behind so long ago. "It was just a scroll I happened to be reading. A character angered me, so I threw it across the room. No more than that."

"Are you sure, my Queen?" Garning asked, unsure. "If it pleases your majesty, I would like to send someone from the Du Vrangr Gata to sweep the place, be sure that you a-"

"Are you questioning me, Garning?" she asked, an edge in her voice as she raised an eyebrow.

The man paused. "No, my Queen," he answered. "I jus-"

"Go back to your post, Garning," Nasuada ordered. "I am tired, and all I wish for is sleep."

"Yes, my Queen," Garning nodded, stepping back as the door closed behind him, leaving Nasuada and Murtagh alone. Once he was sure that no one would bother them, Murtagh ended the spell, making him visible once more.

"The incompetence!" Nasuada exclaimed, throwing her hands in the air in exasperation. She sat on her bed, rubbing her temples in annoyance.

Murtagh stayed where he was for a moment, casting a spell to allow no one to eavesdrop. Deeming it safe, he came over and sat beside her on the bed. "They just want to keep you safe," he assured her, his voice soft. "Which, frankly, they need to work on. I mean, I got in here with barely any trouble. I was expecting somewhat of an issue, but..." He shrugged. "I guess I'm just too good for that," he finished with a small smile.

Nasuada grunted, then turned to gaze at him, disbelief plain on her face. "It really is you?" she whispered, as if she still couldn't believe her eyes.

Murtagh nodded. "It is I," he repeated, then again the Ancient Language.

The next thing he knew, Nasuada was upon him, wrapping her arms around him, crushing him to her. "I missed you," she whispered against his chest, making his heart skip a beat, which she felt beneath her cheek. "I missed you so much, Murtagh." Her voice broke, and her eyes glistened as she smiled up at him.

Cautiously, Murtagh wrapped his arms around her, squeezing her even closer to his chest. He very dimly heard Thorn chuckle through their link. He ignored him, instead getting lost as Nasuada rose over him, capturing his mouth above her own. Murtagh's eyes closed, and he held her closer even as her hands came up to run through his hair, angling her head to go deeper. Murtagh wrapped his arm around her waist, the other hand coming up to cup the back of her head, allowing the kiss to deepen even further. Hesitantly, Murtagh extended his mind to hers, feeling as she opened up to him, the poem chanting behind to keep him from the business part of her mind while the love and happiness came in abundance, making him see how much she missed him. How much she cared for him. Loved him.

Murtagh's excitement and wonder showed in the kiss as he opened himself even further for her, allowing her to see things that only Thorn had seen, including that one small section of hatred in his heart. It was his hatred for his father, the one thing that he couldn't seem to erase. He couldn't find a way to forgive him, no matter what he tried. It just flourished. So, thinking that it would never leave him, he just left it there, choosing not to dwell on it and instead left for Ilirea, back to the life that he had always wanted.

When Nasuada spotted it, her conscience was like a beacon of light inside of him, coming upon it and touching it lightly, its fingers exploring. Murtagh's breath caught as he felt her love over his hate, the touch surprisingly warm on his cold heart. He shied back from the touch -both mentally and physically- but she pushed onward, pouring love into his hate. Murtagh shivered under the pool coming onto him like a waterfall, feeling the hate give way, pushed instead by forgiveness. He still didn't like his father -far from it, actually- but he no longer hated him, and the release was like a two-ton weight being released from his shoulders, bringing forth freedom and love. Love for Nasuada. Love for life.

The result was simply amazing.

Murtagh pushed closer to her, flooding her with gratitude from his mind as well as his mouth, bringing her in deeper in both mind and body. As his mind accepted more of her, so she did the same, wrapping herself around him, flooding his senses with her. Before either of them knew it, Murtagh was on his back, Nasuada above him. They kissed and murmured their love and hope to each other in the cool, spacious room.

Together, they lay like that for what felt to Murtagh like hours, allowing each other to explore their minds and mouths, when finally the need for air caused them to stop, gazing into each others eyes instead. They gasped for breath, the connection between them overpowering the others' senses. Murtagh said something in the Ancient Language, making his body shiver.

Nasuada did, too. "What did you say?" she asked, breath steadier, but not quite complete.

Murtagh told her. "It's my true name." He paused, then seemed to realize what he had just said. "Oh, Nasuada! I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to-"

The intensity of her expression caused him to stop. Slowly, she bent down until her mouth was at his ear, sending shivers down his spine. She whispered something in the Ancient Language to him, and he realized that it, too, was her true name. When she was finished, she sat up and gazed down at him, waiting for him to respond.

He swallowed, soaking in what they had just shared. Her true name was power and wise, yet caution and love. Caution that no one would slit her throat as she slept. Love for Murtagh and her people. It was beautiful.

Murtagh cleared his throat. "How did you find out?" he whispered, running a hand through her hair.

She sighed, rolling over so that she was beside him, waiting for him to turn so that they could look at each other. "The same way that I learned to guard my thoughts and attack if necessary," she responded, referring to earlier. "The elves taught me."

"The elves taught you your true name?" Murtagh asked, incredulous.

"The elves taught me how to find my true name," she corrected him, grabbing his hand in her own and holding it. "What of you?" she asked. "How did you come to leave your hatred and deem it time to return?"

He sighed. "It wasn't easy." He proceeded to tell her about his time up north, the adventures him and Thorn had as they sought to leave their anger and blood lust behind, finding forgiveness and freedom for the first time. "I was harder to change," Murtagh admitted. "We would have been back sooner if it wasn't for my stubbornness to keep the hate deep in my heart. We still wouldn't be back if Thorn hadn't insisted that one little spot of hatred for my father wasn't enough to stay in the loneliness for the rest of our lives-" He paused, a small smile touching his face. "-Or, your lives, I suppose. So we left. Then I came here, saw you, and, well, you know the rest," Murtagh finished, waiting for her to respond.

Nasuada gazed down at their fingers. "I'm glad you returned," she said, her voice soft as she looked back up at him.

"As am I," he whispered, bringing her hand up and kissing it.

Nasuada pulled him forward, onto her pillows. "Stay with me," she whispered, her eyes glistening as she looked up at him.

Murtagh hesitated. "What of your guards?" he asked.

She shook her head. "I'll deal with them," she said, snuggling closer to him.

Thorn? He asked in his mind, thinking of his dragon's whereabouts.

Do as you please, Thorn responded, sending Murtagh the picture of him moving out of the trees and finding a place in the desert. Just as long as you're happy.

Thank you. "Are you sure?" he asked Nasuada one last time.

She pulled him closer. "Let tomorrow bring its troubles, Murtagh." She kissed him soft on his lips. "Go to sleep, my love."

Already, his eyes drooped even as hers did, dreams beginning to dance behind their eyes, arms wrapped perfectly around each other. Before he fell asleep, he dimly heard Thorn say, I told you so.

He smiled even as he lost consciousness, the scent of Nasuada's hair below his nose guiding him to his dreams.

Wow, that's finally it. Sorry, but it took a while for me to finish this. O.o I'm so glad it's done, and I seriously hope you guys liked it. What do you think? Review please! Constructive criticism is appreciated as well! :) Thanks!