#the moment orrin smiles he got murtagh thinking 'oh no he is Pretty 😳'

[alagaesia-headcanons]

@marimo331 Thank you for the prompt!!! The timeline I'm working with is rather different, so I though an AU would be fun for this! I didn't exactly include dragon egg idea, but something along those lines. (also I already broke my resolve to keep these under 1k hhhh I am nothing if not long winded :'V !)

As a vague set up for this AU, the conflict that decimated the old Riders doesn’t go so favorably for Galbatorix and he isn’t able to secure power, so he and the Forsworn don’t last long after the war. When the chance to rebuild the Riders later presents itself via Eragon and Saphira, it doesn’t require the bloodshed it does in canon. There’s more weight on the Riders’ impact on Alagaesia’s cultures and power dynamics.

-

One month ago, after a series of concerning reports from the port city of Reavstone, Orrin contacted Eragon and requested aid for their investigation. A number of sailors- too many to be explained away as a crew that helped themselves to an excess of rum- have told similar tales of damaged ships and lines, snatched glimpses of uncanny creatures in the water, and ghastly sounds echoing in the caves of the eastern cliffs. A few weeks later, Eragon declared that Murtagh and Thorn would meet him at Reavstone in five days.

That should make the day of their arrival today.

Orrin can’t help but tersely wonder if the reason Eragon didn’t come himself is because of the wrong foot Orrin started off on years ago when the issue of the Riders suddenly reared its head after nearly a century of their absence. Eragon is kind hearted and has likely forgiven his past falters, and it’s of little consequence either way since he did provide the help they asked for, albeit not personally. But all the idle waiting leaves his mind drifting down such paths.

Lost in thought, he doesn’t notice at first several raised voices mingle with the cries of seagulls overhead. “Sire,” Graytooth utters, touching his arm once. His guard points up, redirecting his returned attention to the horizon. A glittering spark of red hangs there in the sky.

“Tell Powel to hail them and ask that they land in the north courtyard when they draw near,” he instructs.

More than an hour passes as they close the distance, the buzz throughout the city steadily mounting as they do. When he finally gets a clear view of them, Orrin worries briefly that even the north courtyard might not be big enough, but Thorn lowers himself with remarkably graceful precision, neatly nestling his enormity amidst the buildings of the keep. His ruby hide casts dazzling sparkles all around. He tastes the air primly, then lowers his noble head, observing all of them curiously.

As he does, in a flash of movement between his wings, Murtagh dismounts with an unhesitating leap to the ground. Running a hand fondly along the length of his neck, he makes his way around his dragon and Orrin gets his first look at the second Rider of the new generation.

Only having Eragon as a reference point, he’d pictured Murtagh resembling his half brother, but in the flesh, he is actually quite different. His figure is wiry and angular, at once appearing more lithe while also sharper around the edges. Loose curls of dark hair are half tied up behind pointed ears, a mark of the changes of a Rider, although he clearly hasn’t shared Eragon’s transformation into the spitting image of an elf. Murtagh doesn’t look entirely human, but he’s not sleekly polished in that elven way.

He’s very handsome, in fact. His eyes are clever and the subtle, sly curl of his lips is compelling. He wears a fine, form fitting tunic with sleeves that reach to his elbows, perhaps to better accommodate use of magic. Orrin would think he’s more of an athlete than a warrior if not for his scarlet sword.

Hand on his chest, he bows his head and greets, “Murtagh, at your service.” Then he holds his hand out towards his partner. “And Thorn, at your service.” Thorn pushes a paw forward in such a way that it hinders the other nobles from approaching, something Orrin feels an unexpectedly profound pulse of gratitude for. The dragon chuffs sonorously and blinks at him, and a breath of awe flutters in Orrin’s chest.

“I am honored,” he exhales, after almost forgetting his decorum facing the odd pair. “I am King Orrin, and on behalf of Surda, I want to thank you for providing your help with these unusual troubles.”

“Of course your majesty, the Riders will always serve people’s needs,” Murtagh replies automatically, giving the formalities only a cursory consideration. “I am the Riders’ expert on unusual troubles, after all, and I feel like I’m due to get another one under my belt,” he quips, wryly alluding to his past which Orrin isn’t wholly familiar with, but that he grasps the broad outline of well enough to know ‘unusual’ is an understatement. “Eragon told me what you said. I was impressed by the insight you had on all the reports.”

“Ahh, well,” Orrin fusses his fingertips over the clasp of his cloak. He didn’t realize that’d been passed along. “With Aberon’s library at my disposal, it seemed only right to do a bit of research.” He pauses for one beat, but Murtagh doesn’t interject, watching attentively. “Well- from all the sources I could gather, I’m very skeptical that it could be a Nïdhwal of any kind. It would be far too close to shore and I couldn’t find a single thing that would account for the sounds. One crew had convinced themselves that Ra’zac had made a den in the cliff-” Murtagh hums in his throat, entertained- “and their paranoia was threatening to spread into a panic. Luckily they listened well enough for me to assure them that it can’t be Ra’zac, as they’d never get so close to the sea.”

“Exactly, exactly,” he concurs intently, waving a hand towards him, “because they suffer in damp nests and-”

“They can’t swim,” Orrin finishes, gesturing back. “Right. Old accounts were thorough enough to rule them out easily, but left more to be desired about other creatures. I have a handful of theories on what this could be, but nothing definite.”

Thorn snorts, his breath ruffling Murtagh’s hair. “Thorn’s right, it sounds like you would be quite the asset for figuring this out. Do you plan to be on the ship that’s going to guide us to the cliff side?”

Orrin falters for a moment, taken aback by the prospect, then instinctively glances over at Graytooth. The look he gets in return is faintly exasperated, although not particularly determined to deny him. His guard wontedly remarks, “It would be dangerous.”

But Orrin can’t focus on that, his mind alive with the thought of fresh, open air outside of city walls, escaping the overbearing and ever present pressure of his court, the allure of a meaningful mystery where his curiosity and urge to understand might have a purpose for once. -And having a dragon and his Rider circling overhead! Surely, with them, the danger wouldn’t be so great.

Indeed, Murtagh offers, “We’d do everything we can to see to your safety.”

“...Do you think it’d make any difference? If I were there?”

Murtagh considers him with an even stare. “I think there’s no way it wouldn’t. In my experience, the right companion might make all the difference when it comes to unusual troubles.” The right companion. Orrin struggles to believe he could ever fill such a role. Murtagh tips his head and shrugs, saying, “It’s up to you if that seems wise, though. I can’t say for sure, and there’s only one way to know.”

Scattering the people gathered in the courtyard like a flock of startled sparrows, Thorn rearranges his legs beneath him and lays down, resting his head on his front paws, flicking the tip of his tail. Orrin feels the projected touch of his mind and his instinct to immediately refocus on his mental defenses lurches up, but after a heartbeat, he relaxes and listens to the dragon say, We’d like to hear your theories.

Orrin can’t restrain a small smile, touched. Murtagh shifts his weight and straightens his shoulders. “I’ll tell you what I learned, then. Whatever I can do to keep this danger from harming anyone else, I’ll do it. So- if it might help, I will join,” he vows.

Thorn purrs as Murtagh grins.

#eragon #inheritance cycle #orrin #murtagh #murtagh morzansson #ic thorn #my writing #mxo #murtagh x orrin #the boys get to go on an adventure <3! #the moment orrin smiles he got murtagh thinking 'oh no he is Pretty 😳' #ill start on the next prompt v soon! #(wanted to make a new post instead of reblogging again just for my own organizational purposes)