"I'm only a man with a candle to guide me

I'm taking a stand to escape what's inside me"

Imagine Dragons, Monster

"A dragon has been here recently" announced Procella, sniffing the air. The silver dragon dropped down in a clear landing space in a forest of orange and yellow and red, opening her wings at the last possible moment to prevent them from smashing into the earth. Nasuada slipped out of the saddle, already accustomed to the dramatic landings Procella insisted upon. ("Landing should be graceful and smooth, especially for a noble dragon" "But this way is much more interesting. Besides, I cannot envision you flying us places")

"Are you sure?" Nasuada responded, unwilling to get her hopes up for naught yet again.

"I can taste the fire in the air"

Nasuada's dark cloak blended with the surrounding dark of night, but as the season changed, so would her attire. If she didn't find him soon, she had decided one lonely night as Procella was away hunting, she would postpone her search (never give up) and join Eragon for the winter. The constant traveling wore away at her patience, and she was eager to end this game of hide-and-seek and claim her prize, or at least retreat until the cold passed on.

The silver dragon peered into the darkness, reaching out her senses. Nasuada also peered out her consciousness from the shelter of her mind hesitantly, unwilling to put her mind in danger but also desperate to find Murtagh before her self-appointed deadline.

"Nothing" called out Nasuada after scanning her immediate surroundings.

"Wait…" Procella began, frowning into her surroundings, "Something is not right"

It struck her a nanosecond before the attack did- the silence. "A forest is never this silent…" the young dragon wondered, then roared "Watch Out!" The silver blur was deflected as Procella turned around, shielding her rider with the sturdy scales on her back. Nasuada flew into their standard combat position, and, drawing her Rider sword, she took a steadying breath. This wasn't the first time they were attacked, after all, so why should she be worried.

The barrage of arrows stopped, and they heard a deep voice call out "Who goes there? We will not be threatened by you. State your intentions or leave. And no funny business with your dragon. I know you can communicate by thought."

"State my intentions or leave, then," Nasuada repeated, envisioning the expression of the red rider as her voice wafted around the silver curtain that was her dragon separating them. "Well," she continued, emerging from around the dragon, "do you want the long version or the short version."

Nasuada stopped talking as she caught sight of Murtagh. How little, how much had changed. His face seemed more at ease, she mused distractedly, at least there were less wrinkles of thought and anger on his forehead, less scars. She walked slowly towards him, as though in a trance. His stormy orbs were open wide, silver pools of light unable to believe what he was seeing. He stepped closer hesitantly, afraid that she would disappear, and opened his mouth to speak when -crack- Nasuada swiftly slapped his face. Righteous fury blazed in her eyes as she stepped back, ignoring how the silver and red dragons slipped away, giving them space.

"Why?" she whispered, her eyes boring into his soul. He knew immediately what she meant, but stayed silent, unable to compose a thought. Cheek smarting, he raised a hand to where the ghost of her presence still lingered with him, staring at her the whole time.

The silence grew, until it was unbearable for Nasuada, and she repeated herself, more loudly this time. "Why, Murtagh? Why?"

"I...:" he swallowed thickly, "I'm sorry." He reached out to her, but hesitated before contact, and pulled back his arm. "I don't… I couldn't…" He stumbled back, a pace closer to the cover of the woods, the sun dripping past the shade of the trees dappling his face.

"What?!" Nasuada spat back, frowning at his lack of answers as she advanced forwards, keeping their distance what it had been. "Why? Why didn't you come back? Why didn't you tell me where you were at? You could have been dead! You could have dropped from the earth's edge! Didn't you see how much it killed me?"

"No!" Murtagh exclaimed, finally finding his voice, "That's exactly the reason why I left. Don't you see it? I am not the hero. I am not the one that swoops in on a white horse in shining armor to rescue you! I hurt you- I tortured you. I couldn't save you! I couldn't save anyone. I am a monster."

"No Murtagh," Nasuada shouted back, stepping even closer. She tried to ignore the hurt she felt when he stepped away from her, a pace away from the treeline. "You are the one that can't see it. You did save me. Without you, I would have lost all hope. I would have given in. I would be a slave to Galbatorix right now if it weren't for you." Nasuada swallowed thickly, remembering how close she was to breaking, how fragile her resistance had been before Murtagh helped her. She took a slower, gentler advance forward, and reached an open palm to his face.

Murtagh flinched away, looking back at her with a self-loathing pain evident in his eyes, in his face, in his stance. "I am a monster. I don't deserve the girl. I don't deserve a hero's welcome. All of this rage, all of the fire. It feels like I am burning on the inside, with the hatred I harbor still. A hero would not have such violent urges, would not have taken a perverse pleasure in destruction." He struck the tree closest to him, releasing a little of his anger. He looked back at Nasuada, rage and hatred but mostly overall pain explicit in his eyes. The frown on her face only served to increase his rage; he was scaring her. He sighed, covering his eyes with his face as he slumped down against the tree. A bitter smile crossed his face, acknowledging the cruel irony that fate bestowed upon his lifeline. "Of course, my brother, the heroic soul that he is, has ensured that everyone knows that I was forced into it, like the weak-willed excuse of a Rider I am. Eragon deserves the heroes welcome. He deserves every good thing life has bestowed upon him. He deserved that our mother save him and not I. She probably realized that the spawn of a beast like Morzan couldn't possibly be any good." He lowered his head, hiding the tears shed, "my own mother, knew I would turn out rotten, so she left me. She chose the right son to save."

"No!" cried Nasuada harshly. She shoved him lightly, and continued, "I know you, Murtagh. I've been inside your mind. You aren't evil. If anything," she hesitated, stepping away and looking down, "if anything, I am the monster of the story. The vast majority of people, the people I swore to protect, they were just going about their daily lives, when I ordered to march upon the capital. Maybe they weren't comfortable, but they were alive. They were alive and now they are not. Because if me. I bet that the majority of Galbatorix's army was forcibly conscripted. They only wanted to stay alive, to protect their families. I killed them, even if I hadn't wielded the weapon. I killed them. I am a murderer. I am a monster. I-"

She was cut off brusquely by Murtagh's harsh, gravelly voice barking, "I don't ever want you to think that of yourself again." He grabbed her by the arm, and pulled her into a tight hug. "You saved us all, with your bravery. To march on the capital wasn't a foolish venture, but proof of your golden heart and iron spine and shining spirit. Yes, many fell, but many more survived. You gave them a chance to actually live, not just exist, by removing the imposing shackles placed upon them the day Galbatorix took over." He drew back, to look into her eyes, "You saved me and you saved Thorn, and I cannot bear it that you think it is even remotely possible for someone as strong, as pure, as good as you to even be remotely close to evil."

Her sniffles slowly subsided, and Murtagh cupped her cheek with his hand, "Never doubt that, not for a single instant,"

Although physically she was exhausted, Nasuada felt as though a great burden, weighing her down for what seemed like centuries, had finally been been lifted from her chest. The comforting embrace lifted her spirits, and she finally, finally felt completely at peace.

Closing her eyes, she leaned into his touch, and whispered "Thank you."

He smiled down at her, "I would do anything for you, love,"

She froze, stunned.

"You know that it is true," he commented softly, "You have been inside my mind. I willingly allowed you to enter my sanctuary."

"It is all right that you do not return my feelings. I didn't expect you to. I just thought that you should know where I stand-"

He was cut of by Nasuada, who had silenced him in what he decided was the most lovely way possible. Then, he decided to stop thinking, and just enjoy the feeling of kissing the woman he loved.

She broke the kiss, but kept her forehead against his. "I think you know where I stand. I love you, Murtagh."

He grinned at her goofily, the joy in her face melting away any remaining anger lingering in the dark corners of his heart. She loved him. She loved him. She loved him. Those words, those tiny three words, not quite twenty letters altogether, they would be able to get him through anything. They would be able to get them, the red rider and the silver rider, through anything.

Nasuada leaned forward to kiss him again, but drew back once more. "Stop smiling, so that I can kiss you properly"

He obeyed gladly, knowing that he would follow anything she said.

In the distance, a silver blur and a red blur chased each other playfully, happy that their Riders finally found peace, finally found love, finally found the comfort of being with their partners-of-heart-and-mind.

AN: I'm not very good with endings, but there it is. Thanks for reading, and reviewing also. It really means a lot that people care enough to read my little fanfiction, and even more that they take time to write up a review. XD