#had to look something up in Eragon

[saphira-approves]

Something something professional artist jargon something something insert art knowledge here—whatever I want to talk about the book covers

So you’ve got Eragon, with a 3/4 portrait of Saphira; she’s giving a benevolent side eye with almost a Mona Lisa smile, she’s got that gleam in her eye, she’s looking at you but not head on—listen, this was the whole reason I picked up the book in the first place when I was eleven, she was so clearly full of life and personality and I just really wanted to meet her. It’s a really good glimpse of her character before even opening the book. She’s engaging you, but also maybe judging you a little bit, and she has a lot of thoughts but she’s going to keep them to herself for right now, thank you.

We’re skipping Eldest for right now because I have a point to make. Shush.

For Brisingr, we get a perfect side portrait of Glaedr, the grumpy old man. He’s not even side-eyeing the viewer like Saphira does; he is eyes forward, goal-oriented, noble and regal and, unless you’re worth his time, not really going to bother with you because he has Important Business to attend to. He is The Last of the pre-Fall dragons, his Rider is The Last of the pre-Fall Riders, he represents a bygone era that will never fully be resurrected, but can still inspire the present to fight for the future; he is no longer fully his own dragon, but a Relic, a Memory, a Symbol. He’s not anxious about it the way Eragon or Saphira might be; he has grieved for a century, he couldn’t be anxious about it if he tried. But he knows that keeping his integrity intact is important, and so this is how he presents himself: Noble. Regal. The Survivor. The Last.

Fírnen graces the cover of Inheritance, bookending the original series by almost perfectly mirroring Saphira—and seriously, it is so satisfying to line the books up with these two at the ends. Though he’s got a 3/4 profile like Saphira, Fírnen is much more reserved. No Mona Lisa smile, no mischievous gleam in his eye; he simply looks at you, and you look back, and you wonder what he’s thinking. He is, in fact, a lot like Arya—anyone who’s read the previous three books up to that point and hasn’t been spoiled for the ending might be able to guess, just from this portrait, who the final egg would hatch for. It’s also a perfect expression for the Final Book, with the fate of Alagaësia and the dragons hanging in the balance: what world does this mysterious dragon emerge into? A war-torn apocalypse? A hard-won victory? What does his future entail, and thus, what do the futures of our favorite characters entail? You ask him so many questions, but all he will ever do is stare deep into your soul with his somber, too-knowing gaze.

And now for the main event:

My beautiful precious son, the red-scaled Thorn, staring you down from the covers of both Eldest and Murtagh. I have loved the cover of the second book ever since I first picked it up, and my appreciation has only grown with time; needless to say I was very excited when the Murtagh cover dropped, and I got to see both of my favorite characters in one place. For both of these, Thorn takes the same stance: a full-frontal combative position, looking You, The Viewer directly in the eye, daring you to judge him, daring you to get in his way. I’ve always had my own opinions about what lay behind this show of force, and the context we get in Murtagh does not disappoint. He may be terrifying, he may be the scourge of the war, but underneath all that, Thorn is terrified. He’s traumatized, he’s claustrophobic, his body is too big for his age; he is painfully young still, and yet treated like a dragon ten times his age because that’s how he looks. He’s also sweet, and playful, and cares so much about his Rider, and wants desperately to keep Murtagh safe and happy. Just like Murtagh, he hides all of that—the fear and the softness both—behind a visage of ferocity, playing into the fears and preconceived notions people have of him, warning enemies away so they can’t get too close to what will actually hurt him. He dares you to try. He’s terrified you will try. He will fight tooth and nail if you do try.

[anarchy-and-piglins]

AU time!

Eragon AU!

Shades in Eragon are sorcerers who were overtaken by the spirits they tried to control. They aren't just a single person, but a legion of spirits trapped in an unfortunate victim's body. They crave violence and blood to fill the hole inside them. Canonically, they have red hair and red eyes. The only way to kill them is by stabbing them through the heart. They are masters of magic and monsterously strong. Cunning and intelligent, there is a reason only two people in history ever survived slaying a Shade.

They also lose all memory of their previous life.

Technoblade was a teenager when he was offered to study as a sorcerer. He had an aptitude for magic and a thirst for knowledge, so when a slightly sketchy person offered to train him, he took them up on the offer. He didn’t trust them, but he though he could use them to learn and then leave.

He didn't get a chance.

Shades can also be MADE. A team of magicians can force a person to be made into a Shade. And those with unethical curiousity see no reason not to experiment with that process. To try to understand the world while using the vulnerable as expermental material.

Technoblade couldn’t take on four trained sorcerers. He also had no training to prevent the invasion of spirits into his mind and soul. He only had his own willpower, his identity tossed about like a tiny stone in a rushing river, a torrent of rage and hatred and cruelty threatening to stamp out everything he was.

And in a way, it does. He doesn't remember who he was. He doesn't remember his name. But a part of him survives. Maybe that's why his hair doesn't turn red, but stays pink. Maybe that's why the spirits shriek for blood and violence, but cannot control his steps. Something inside him remained, his incredibly force of will not crushed by the machinations of the cruel.

Technoblade still slaughters them, though.

He knows he was someone, and he knows those sorcers took that from him. So he is all too willing to follow the screams in his ears and to tear the arrogant magicians apart.

But afterwards? What is he supposed to do?

The voices crave blood. They want him to carve a bloody swathe across all of Algaesia. But he doesn't want that. It won't fill the emptiness in his chest. He knows that.

So he wanders.

He hides his hair. Hides his eyes. Shades are feared for good reason, hunted by powerful individuals. He wanders and learns. He sees the sea. He sees the mountains. He gazes at the dwarven caverns. He visits the bustling cities. He secretly visits Urgal villages. He watches Dragons fly through the sky of Vroengard. He wants to wander the elvish forests of Du Weldenvarden-

But something was happening there. Even the spirits of violence seem perturbed by the waves of angry magic pouring from those trees.

Instead, he heads north.

Into the ice and snow, following tales of interest. There are apparently semi-volcanic patches if you know where to look. That must be an interesting sight.

He stumbles across a man in the snow.

The man is probably human? It's hard to tell. Human Dragonriders start to look slightly elvish after a time. That would certainly be more likely than a half-elf, but there is no dragon to be seen.

The voices want him to kill the man, but Technoblade disagrees.

Technoblade rescues the man, bringing him to a cave and stoking a fire. He warms the man's limbs, checks on his breathing, does what he can to resuscitate him.

The man survives. His name is Philza.

Philza was a dragonrider. Emphasis on the WAS. He had been assigned a task by the Dragonrider council and, in fulfilling his duty, his Dragon was slain. Not entirely, as the Dragon's eldunarí (Their heart of hearts, their soul) still existed. But Philza's dragon had no body.

Philza had worked for centuries on a spell that would give his dragon a physical form. It was tireless work with many setbacks. But after years and years of work, he had managed it. It would work. He was sure of it.

The Council forbid him to use it.

They said it was too dangerous. They said it was too wrong. That it shouldn't exist at all. The amount of energy it required would be astronomical.

Philza argued that Dragons do the impossible with magic all the time. That if his dragon could find the inspiration to cast the spell for themself, then energy cost would not even factor.

They still refused.

It became a heated discussion.

Then it became a fight.

Philza and his dragon lost.

The council was cruel. They decided that this was high treason and destroyed Philza's Dragon's eldunarí. Philza had to deal with his soul's bond, his dragon, his closest's friends presence be torn from his mind. It is the worst sensation a Dragonrider can go through. Even experiencing his Dragon's mortal death could not compare.

They then stripped Philza of even the memory of his Dragon's name and tossed him into the snowy tundra, condeming him to either die or lose his mind.

Technoblade listens to this story with sympathy, and with the voices screaming in his ear. Technoblade has dealt with a hole in his chest and a lack of purpose for ages now. Seeing Philza, who had a whole part of his soul and life's purpose ripped from him, he feels a kinship. And he gives Philza his advice.

"Those who treat me with kindness, I will repay that kindness tenfold.

And those that treat with injustice, that use me, that hunt me down, that hurt my friends, I shall repay that injustice a thousand times over."

The two of them plot, in that little cave in the northern snow. They plot for a new world. A world where none can tell them who they should be, how they should act. They plot to destroy the systems that could create such broken people as them.

They plot their own empire, a downfall to the Riders who have corrupted the land.

Anyway, Philza as a better Galbatorix and Techno as a better Durza. They aren't going to lose to the power of friendship and love because they have that in spades.

I'm keeping like 5 of these amazing Lenn AU asks hostage in my inbox at this point so I suppose I better start posting them kekw

I should say I know nothing about Eragon but this is very fun <3 Even if my lack of knowledge about the source material means I have no idea what happens next. The Shade lore is really cool :D

[briar-rolfes-research-oubliette]

ON MONDAY, I (FINALLY) MADE IT ALL THE WAY THROUGH THE NEWEST ERAGON BOOK!

MURTAGH

“A Book I Read”

It took three very patient friends of mine to encourage me to finish reading this. I took notes the whole way through, and I am now sharing those in hope of finding loving community with my fellow haters.

Important context:

I loved Eragon, which came out when I was roughly eleven

Christopher Paolini was the first author to ever disappoint me

I used to love epic fantasy, until feminism, coming out, and learning about literary criticism made me just too mean to enjoy it

Since 2015, whenever I’ve had writer’s block, I’ve found inspiration by looking at this screenshot:

Christopher has managed to create a life where his mum has never stopped doing his laundry or his editing for him. He has never worked a job in his life. He has infinite time to work on his craft, and yet, with all of those advantages, he writes the way he does. I don’t hate him, but I do want to destroy him in single combat.

LET US BEGIN.

17 November 2023

I forgot how obsessed this man is with proving he knows rare words. Picking up my phone to google the word “trenchant”.

He really just didn’t want to say the dragon had a sharp sense of humour huh? Oh, no, it’s TRENCHANT. It wasn’t even for dialogue I identified as comedy but Murtagh thought it was TRENCHANT. He and Thorn have been alone in the wilderness for too long

NOT NASUADA BEING DESCRIBED AS HAVING ALMOND EYES

Of course the protagonist has grown a beard. He’s A Man Now.

I have a theory that this book is about coming to terms with marriage. Murtagh is like “our bond… our bond that lasts until death… the oldest magic… only the two of us understand each other. But, we’re also trapped with each other,” and I’m like hm. Fascinating. Say more

Instantly Murt befriends a child, to prove he is good really.

It’s so weird to read a book by a grown man with kids who is like “how did we all start out so innocent and pure…” like have you MET five year olds

This whole fork fight scene makes me feel second hand embarrassment deep in my soul. It’s SO This Guy Is The Best And Coolest

“Fencing with effortless ease” I do not care how well trained he is: you cannot kill four men with long swords by stabbing them with a little fork in “four hard impacts.” It’s just not happening.

I’m really dwelling on the idea of magic as “imposing your will” on something. It’s very.., something. Murtagh cleans his shirt by “imposing his will on the garment” like. Okay, I suppose in a way that is how all laundry is done, but it’s. Hm.

How come he’ll clean a shirt with magic but not shave with magic? Why are these books SO obsessed with beards and shaving and how to do shave and using magic for shaving etc etc, Eragon was also majorly preoccupied with this

Paolini’s got so many complexes on the page. All the “we’re half brothers and your dad killed my dad” stuff is A LOT

The naming stuff… SMH what would Ursula Le Guin say about all this

I’m obsessed with how even as (gasp) an OUTCAST!! Murtagh can’t not be the coolest guy ever for any time at all. It’s like a disease

Giving the child the enchanted killing fork was the worst decision ever made. Murtagh gives her a murder weapon and is then moping like “what’s it like… to live without killing…” literally pages later.

I’m really startled that Murt is delighted to see a tiny flying magical grass boat come down from the sky and circle him instead of being like “wtf, I’m being Watched,” which would be the true act of a man we are told is paranoid

I just got to the bit where Murtagh offhandedly says that magic users who “are the heaviest” always have the most spell reserves.

Like……… what???? Magic eats your fat?? It burns glucose??

You could be a better mage if you just, ate a bunch of raspberry frogs before each fight??????

It’s food powered??? You really want to go there, Paolini????? Wizards in the candy shop, eating sweeties like Mistborns?

GOD, if only Galbatorix had chugged a bottle of red cordial before his last big fight!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

(I return after losing my mind about this to my partner for forty minutes)

If it was “if you’re hungry you can’t FOCUS” I’d get it. But I always assumed it was like, you know how other fantasy does it? Some kind of pool of ADDITIONAL energy that you are accessing and that can be used up (until you go too far and start using life force or whatever). Like, it’s CHANNELLING it that makes you tired, not that it’s literal food energy.

Murtagh is always running or doing his sword forms or whatever and now I’m like “DUDE, NO!!!?!? DON’T BURN YOUR WIZARD CALORIES!!?!?”

I like when magic can’t do EVERYTHING, when it’s consistent or limited in some way, but I do hate the idea that it’s this predictable. Food energy becomes raw magical power. I GUESS.

(A little later)

Screaming at the suggestion Thorn can tell when Murtagh is horny.

I don’t like the euphemisms. It makes it worse

The fact he can’t talk to his dragon whenever they’re “too far apart” (distance never specified) is making me insane. Why did I pick up the dragon riding book if it’s mostly about leaving your dragon locked up at the bike rack

I know Thorn is basically a rescue dog with anxiety, but it bothers me how much he’s left on his own. The narrative just has no idea what to use him for other than speedy transport for the first um… 200 pages, it seems? He’s meant to be his own creature with his own intelligence. He doesn’t go anywhere without Murtagh though. So what is he doing all the time

I think Paolini WANTS his world to be big and mysterious (his introduction literally just keeps saying things in the world of the story are mysterious) but he HAS to keep explaining everything

24 November 2023

I’ve figured out something that annoys me about the world of this book, in terms of just how the worldbuilding is not actually that magical. It has the D&D problem!!! Which is to say that every regular person on earth is Level One and every important character is like, level 12. And part of what makes that even worse is that all women in this world are level zero.

I’ve been watching my friend Chris play the first Alan Wake game and we realised that all the faceless enemies that are possessed by Evil in the game are… working class men. The protagonist is this literate wealthy New York writer who is constantly killing faceless workers—farmers, loggers, coal miners, builders. And that’s not an INTENTIONAL commentary by the game, but it’s very revealing. And This book is the same in that: there is no such thing as a complicated poor person. They’re all either Dirty Evil or Dirty Good. Murtagh is going around, writing poetry in his head and inventing magical computer code, and then every child is an urchin who is like Oi Guvnah, and every dad is gruff, and every woman is worried.

The language used to describe everyone who isn’t a Fighting Man is so demeaning. And even then, we only need to respect the leaders of those men. The leaders are the only ones with depth who might need to be taken seriously.

It’s like Murtagh has a tally in his head where he is going “finally, a guy who is level 6”!

Most people in this world exist to deliver information to the protagonist.

Paolini either thinks his readers are too dumb to understand that his characters exist between scenes, or he doesn’t understand himself that we don’t need to see every time Murtagh enters a city under a new name and how he does it. Or know what he ate for dinner and how he prepared it and where he slept and what he dreamed and, and, and—

It’s weird because Paolini is being self indulgent as fuck but it is NOT fun to read. This dude really just needs to go write a survival story or something… A guy in the woods depending on nothing but his wits and his axe and his beard and his libertarian values

I don’t understand the stakes at play. All the magic scenes with Mind Penetration are so sudden and hard to actually understand as action. And the way it works is about brute force, so the dragon is not going to be at risk of being taken over except by another, even bigger dragon

It would be fun to read the Murtagh city sleuth segments if Thorn was backseat driving a little. I think that their bond should not get thinner over distance. The fact that it does just defeats the point of a magical bond.

Why does the dragon have to stay so far away? Like… it’s established that there’s a spell to conceal a dragon from sight. Dude. You could just go fucking invisible

There’s so many decisions that just are so bonkers to have made. The whole fetch quest for information pissed me off so bad. “You have to join the guard” (40 pages of emotions about uniforms ensue). This guy learned about plots from video games

Paolini had kids apparently, but you can tell he doesn’t really understand kids. “How do they all start out so innocent and pure,” says a man who has never heard a seven year old describe someone being killed by farts before.

The description of Murtagh carrying a cat that doesn’t want to be carried is very funny. I don’t know if Paolini has ever carried a cat before. If you’re carrying a cat that doesn’t want to be carried close to your chest, and you tighten your grip when it squirms… say goodbye to your nipples, my man

It’s strange how much Paolini doesn’t explore the things that seem to be the point. FOR EXAMPLE, the fantasy soul bond trope loves to say “even during sex!??! 👀” because it’s about INTIMACY, and some alien presence always being there. The dragon rider trope is popular because dragons are powerful and wise but also Beasts. Magic is fun to read about because it can do things that can’t be explained.

Paolini’s world is big, but nothing in it has any real substance. Nothing in it has any real consequence, and it makes it impossible to really invest in anything that happens. None of these poor city folks have a life once they leave the scene of delivering Murtagh information… or if they are a woman, delivering him a hot meal. There’s no sense of a world that exists outside Murtagh’s point of view!

25 November 2023

The towns so far don’t feel at all distinctive to me! I was interested in the one with the massive lake, but then it having this massive fish in it was the only point of interest. It would be fun to have been like “oh the fish has ruined our summer festival! It’s ruined the nobility pleasure cruises! It’s also eating fishermen!” Or “Why do all these fishing boats have huge spikes on the prow? Well,”

Again, these guys are all level one in peasant dirt town. They have no capacity for individual thought and no ability to adapt.

It’s like Paolini doesn’t know what makes people and places in fantasy feel distinct, or have culture. It’s so evident in how much he HASN’T thought about. For example, the bonkers amount of restrictive gender norms that he doesn’t seem AT ALL CONSCIOUS OF? Everyone who died in the war was A Man. No women died in the war. But that hasn’t resulted in any social changes. There aren’t more women doing work, for example, like being fishermen

I remember being thirteen or so and reading the bit in the second book where Arya explains to Eragon that she’s better and stronger than a human woman, because she is an elf, so Eragon doesn’t have to worry about her in battle. I was this kid there like “man, that sucks. I assume he’s coming back to that assumption later,” and… he never did. He still hasn’t. And that sucks

The dragon riders were not THAT long ago, in the world of these books. It makes me wonder—were none of them human women? I always assumed that some were human women, but… did dragons only choose elf men, elf women, and human men? If they chose human women, then even being accepted into a paramilitary dragon force didn’t change gender expectations in the rest of the world. What the fuck. He’s really never thought about this.

Women keep showing up as cunning-mysterious, as humble dirtmothers, or as innocent children. Oh my god I’m just describing maiden mother crone. That’s all he’s capable of.

I just got up to where he rescues the werecat baby (innocent girl child) and settles in to hear the stories of elder werecat (cunning-mysterious)

I noticed the Arya Problem with how Nasuada is described in this book, too. Every woman has to be the best, most capable, most powerful woman ever, to be worth the attention of The Boys. Otherwise they can’t respect her. Only two literal queens can be considered worthy of just two average guys who got pet lizards. Even then, they’re not actual equals.

“She still empathised for me.” Yes, don’t worry, Murtagh, I remember that’s what women are for.

I should note that the reason Nasuada is considered so powerful and so much worthy of his love and is her strength as a person. This is proven in the Eragon books because “she still empathised” with Murtagh whilst he was medieval torturing her. He was medieval torturing her for like… most of a book and that’s how they fell in love. Because she could see in his eyes that this guy torturing her… was Complicated. He didn’t really WANT to be medieval torturing her so she actually felt worse for him than he felt about how he was (and I can’t stress this enough) medieval torturing her

I just can’t imagine that THE QUEEN OF A WHOLE CONTINENT would still prefer the guy who sadly tortured her. He’s her top preference. Out of EVERY OTHER MAN IN THE WORLD

I put the book down until the day before I was meant to have finished the book for book club:

10 March 2024: from page 274 onwards

The evil witch is called BACHEL?????!!?!??!? Fucking BACHEL. Pronounced “buh-SHELL”, the guide at the back says. You changed one letter in Rachel, don’t lie to me Paolini

I got so mad being reminded the evil king Galbatorix was defeated by “Eragon forcing empathy upon him” so that he magically exploded himself out of guilt that I had to put the book down and complain to Charlie for five straight minutes

I guess that’s why Galbatorix made Murtagh torture Nasuada for him. He knew that if he’d done it himself she would have empathised with him too hard and he would’ve exploded himself

Murtagh has never met a single person he has respected. Murtagh is the specialest boy in all the land. Eragon had to leave the country because they were both too special to share a continent

Murtagh decided on where to go and he was immediately surrounded by armed guards who took him to where the plot was

Paolini uses the fucking word “admixed” while discussing EATING A PIE. The flavours admixed in his mouth. Just because you know a word… doesn’t mean it’s a word to deploy about eating a pie

I HATE how the only people strong enough to do the strongest magic are Elves Or Human Riders. It’s fucking magic my guy! Why is it checking your goddamn DNA! Also, hey! Wasn’t it supposed to come down to the strongest wizards being the guys who ate the most for lunch?

In a world of Magic how come every wizard battle ultimately comes down to who is a better Professor X?? I came here for fireballs, not Mind Battles. I don’t care about your Mental Wards

Hahaha Murtagh!!! Get trapdoored, bitch!!!!

Dragon panic attacks: conceptually cool but a bit ?? Like ah… the plot literally comes to scoop him up and carry him away. Yet again something outside of Murtagh makes a decision for him about what to do next

Murtagh’s poetry is going to make me explode myself like Galbatorix in book 4

If there’s something I like about this book so far it’s just the bits where he and Thorn are camping. Not flying, because then Murtagh is using the time to think and that’s horrible. The bits where they make campfires or whatever feel like something is actually happening. A guy and his dragon hanging out

Man. The way this novel is plotted really reminds me that it’s not actually that hard to write a book.

Murtagh goes to the evil village (oh yeah there’s an evil village. It is where Bachel lives. She is evil because she does magic without using the magic language). The village is called:

NAL GORGOTH

But I couldn’t remember this so I kept referring to it in my head by another, more familiar, name

Murtagh is so freaked out by finding a village with architecture that he doesn’t recognise. He’s like “My god!!! Nasuada has to be warned!!!” Ok but about what??? New ways of building pillars???? The art deco movement threatens the land??

Kinda fascinated by how much this village represents a threat to CULTURE. The architecture, the people… Everything about it so far is designed to be A Foreign Threat. The inhabitants are Of All Races (except elves they are too cool too pure etc). The humans have A VARIETY OF SKIN COLOURS, which memorably never happens in Alagaesia, a continent once explicitly described in the Eragon books as only having two (2) black people on it at all (then one died) (the other is Nasuada) (the one who died was her dad)

This guy with a goatee isn’t quite human. He is maybe part urgal and he is so uncomfortable to look at! Mainly he has arms that are a bit too long!! Bachel isn’t a human and also isn’t an elf, and that’s also deeply unsettling.

Bachel also fundamentally represents a threat to THE STRUCTURING POWER OF LANGUAGE, huh??

Bachel is so far the most interesting character in the book!

Bachel has: ALMOND EYES and AMBER SKIN

Murtagh is so upset and confused when Bachel calls him “my son” like… I’m cryign. “But she’s not my mother! I know my mother!!” he thinks, in a panic.

If this was a fantasy novel written twenty to thirty years ago, then the sexual tension between Murtagh and Bachel would be absolutely insane. Alas, this is a world of abstinence, and sexuality is only ever meaningful looks between a queen and the guy who tortured her (it is weird how he keeps caressing Nasuada’s face on the gold coins)

It’s very funny that Bachel has specifically fourteen warriors. The prose keeps telling us that there’s fourteen of them. So you get Murtagh stepping forwards and then sentences like “the fourteen warriors attending Bachel shifted”

She seems like a perfectly normal cult leader to me? Why is she automatically a threat to Nasuada! How come the two of them can’t arrange a toxic political marriage that becomes… something more 😉😉😉

Nothing annoys me more in this book than Murtagh being able to identify specific vintages of wine. It keeps happening and it pisses me off

Bachel is a half elf!!! “It had never occurred to him that such a thing might be possible.” This is truly and absolutely unbelievable to me. Nobody in this world ever has sex

How did it take so long to get to such an objectively cool village!!! Like this is just a cool place!!! Sorry that Nar Nar Goon is evil but like FINALLY something has style

Three thoughts at once:

I’m so bored that Paolini’s mind can’t get more interesting than temple virgins, let alone wearing white to represent ritualistic purity. Like… nobody in this world fucks anyway, why does it matter!

Murtagh should also wear white all the time

Lesbianism doesn’t count as a violation of being temple chosen. Alín is wearing lesbianism

Paolini has never once written a woman who is Normal. He just can’t conceive of it. You can feel how he starts sweating.

Murtagh finally realised it was a cult. What sets it apart as a cult is that the followers appear to be “half-wits” to him

I’m going to detransition to break his fucking neck

Paolini has learned nothing since he had a woman deliver the exact same line in like 2008. The fact that another editor just thumbsed this up. The fact that this is in a book published in 2023. Well, now I’m REALLY embarking on an antagonistic reading: that’s right, I am reading women as capable.

Obsessed with Bachel. She is a girlboss and I’m a feminist xxx

Book is constantly weird about how much she is capable of eating and drinking at her feasts and how it makes her appear swollen and bloated etc etc. Murtagh is so weirded out by this because he feels it is unfeminine… as though she is not a witch and we weren’t told earlier that how much magic you have is directly equal to how much you eat. (Meanwhile he is only picking at his food and eating just enough of it ‘to be polite’ as though this is not making a decision to have less magic than her)

She has so much charisma compared to anyone else in the book. If my choices are her or Murtagh then sign me up boys!!!

Okay but much like how this would’ve been a VERY charged relationship 30 years ago, I’m weirdly disappointed Bachel she isn’t not described as megahot? Like the book keeps telling me about this virginal templemaiden or whatever, because Murtagh is only attracted to women he can rescue. But I’m actually just like… I think this woman is hot. Tell me more about her. It’s wild that this book is written by a guy like Paolini, who told me all about Oromis’ pubic hair in 2008, and who barely thinks women are people. Yet he doesn’t want to discuss her tiddies?

This book could, and should! have started when Murtagh landed his dragon in the evil village of Nar Nar Goon. That’s the point that stuff got actually interesting. Everything before this was literally video game fetch quest logic plotting that earned him the right to fly to Nar Nar Goon.

Boar hunt. More like BORED hunt. And then suddenly there are so many pigs, a comical number of them flying everywhere

This motherfucker using the phrase “the boar was lying athwart him” in a sentence in an action scene????

Murtagh is nearly dead and the boar is lying athwart him?

I’m going back in time and bullying the author at school

RIP Murtagh, trambled to death by 30-50 wild hogs

Oh god every time someone knocks Murtagh out he has a vision or a bad dream or a flashback or whatever and it’s so tiring

“EXISTENCE WAS A TOMB WHEREIN THE SINS OF THE PAST LAID INTERRED???” Do you ever read a sentence that sounds so much like the author is jerking it? “All had been lost, and there before him lay the instrument of their destruction” he is furiously jerking it oh my god. “Destroyer of hope, eater of light” oh, god, he’s still going

…This book is. Weird about mothers

Murtagh flies into a rage because Bachel mercy killed a guy who was dying bc of boar trampling because “I COULD HAVE HEALED HIM!!!!!” And the mercy killing is proof it is a cult. Because doing it Bachel’s way meant the guy was too relaxed and at peace when he died

Paolini’s family were in a cult, as I understand. So it’s kind of weird how much he doesn’t really understand how being in a cult works

I don’t really remember how religion works in this world, but I do remember tuning out of a long boring passage in book 2 or 3 where Eragon learned about all the gods and decided he was an atheist. It’s especially weird to be like “holy shit, an EVIL religion??!” In a book where religion has absolutely never come up before now

Oh my god, Alìn was whipped for being ‘too familiar’ with Murtagh!!! That’s because she’s so pure and a helpless victim girl in all white :’((

In my mind Bachel and Alìn COULD be in a fucked up lesbian relationship with bad BDSM etiquette. Of course Paolini can’t imagine a world where women have enough personality or agency to fall in toxic love with each other. Also even though he has people tied up and strapped down and whipped and being tortured etc in every book don’t think he knows that BDSM like. Exists. Boooooo

Murtagh: killing one guy who is dying of a punctured lung is the ultimate evil!

Also Murtagh: I know an invisibility spell, but to sneak out of my room I am going to suffocate seven men to death

Genuinely upsetting to read those men dying. He made it impossible for air to enter or exit their lungs with a word. Veins popping clawing at faces etc. God, what a way to go. So unnecessarily cruel. Yep, there goes the good guy

The main way the village is evil is that there are unsettling carvings everywhere. Paolini read some Lovecraft, but he did not understand what was up with it. Or maybe he did, because this book did get a lot more weird about Racial Purity once Murtagh arrived in Lovecraft Village

11 March 2024

There’s a bloodstain that “filled Murtagh with the apprehension of evil” and it confused me because these books are so gory. Earlier he killed four men with a fork. But like oh yeah I guess it’s because when Murtagh murders people now it’s bloodless. I guess. His murders are good you see

This chapter is called The Bad Sleep-Well you can tell Paolini thought he was a real genius for this one

Okay but why are there bats… roosting… in a cave… at night. And why is Murtagh worried that red light will risk waking them? Animals cannot see red light?? SOME FARM BOY YOU ARE, PAOLINI

Okay I have to stop nitpicking. I have to restrain myself until my Vyvanse kicks in

“Murtagh felt a sense of not just age but antiquity. Whoever had built the stairs had done so long before Alagaesia had been a settled place. What was it Bachel had said? That the cultists had lived in Nal Gorgoth since before elves were elves... He was starting to think she had told the truth.”

Sorry uhhhh, Alagaesia was settled?? When they talk about The Grey Ones, are they talking about a race PRIOR TO COLONISATION?????????

“He continued forward. Deeper into the womb of the earth. Deeper into the black unknown, seeking, seeking, always seeking a farther shore, every sense razor-sharp and razor-scraped, skin all goosefleshed, cold sweat dripping down the back of his neck and gathering around his belted waist.”

God it’s so overwrought...

He found the well!!

Oh my god. The well is a natural magic hotspot and that means it “wasn’t the sort of thing that the Draumar ought to have dominion over.” It’s a natural resource???

“Not that he would want Du Vrangr Gata to assume control over such an important location either. This was exactly what the Riders had been created for: to oversee and mediate that which could destabilize the land.”

Murtagh is going to bring democracy to the Middle East

He’s too scared to mentally contact his dragon with Bachel around. If he was a proper horse girl he would find a way

Oh Galbatorix BECAME evil because he met Bachel and she manipulated him. Haha oh dear. No, you can’t just come to the conclusion the dragon rider paramilitary force who controls the resources are bad on your own. Not just because they sent you into the mountains when they knew it was dangerous and wanted to find out if you’d be killed up there! No, a manipulation had to have happened

It’s funny to me that the evil ancient witch queen who lives in seclusion in the mountains uses the new name for the city of Uru’baen. Oh no, she knows it as Ilirea. She’s hundreds and hundreds of years old. You know what that is? Evidence of Find And Replace, to me.

Bachel’s eyes are “glowing with fevered ecstasy.” I could make her feel that way. Also. Because, I know about sex

Always with the fucking passing out at the end of the chapter for Christopher James Paolini

NOW Bachel is being described appropriately as a hottie. FINALLY. GOD! It only took Murtagh being mind controlled in his brain but I. I!!! I could see the glorious light of truth!!

“He followed, dumb and wildered.” Well, not as much as that sentence. (You can be bewildered. But can you ever just be wildered????)

The dedication to making Murtagh the most pitiful little meow meow in existence in the Galbatorix flashbacks I’m… what happened to the joys of a guy who is evil because he was convinced or was tricked, not because he was fully brain abused???

The Urgals are racially… uncomfortable. Yellow eyes and Murtagh just straight up saying “how do you speak English”

The evil guys have masks and they put them on and like channel the animals the masks are of and on one hand it’s an idea I THINK is cool but also combined with the everything it really has this “tribal stuff is threatening” vibe all over it

“What do you want, witch?”

“I want you.”

Obsessed with how he’s shackled to a table and there’s still an incredible lack of sexual energy to this scene. This is like a day at the office for both of them.

… oh, but she is wearing claws and claws DOES equal a threat of penetration. Maybe a little sexual? As a treat??

Him being tortured reminds him of torturing Nasuada. Wow, it was their first date!

It’s just like. It’s fucked up imo. She should never kiss you Murtagh!!!

Is anything more boring than a torture scene.

Also, was he not drugged right before this scene? How is he able to mentally evade her and power his wards etc?

I’m mad that when he’s brought fancy foods by Alìn he doesn’t share his food with Ubek the Urgal

Oh my god Ubek tells him a story where the moral is just him outright saying at the end, “it’s important to stay close to the people we care for, even if we don’t always fit in so easily” lmao. Subtlety of a mallet

Is anything more boring than a torture scene? How about a torture chapter!!!1!1!1!

This chapter is interminable. Oh my god.

Oh, so we did all that and he gives in I guess. I can’t believe how little agency this man has had throughout this book????

Haha oh my god, Bachel is studying his nude and compliant body in front of her court. Telling him to turn around so she can inspect his back (no mention of his ass even though it is out, tragic). Fucking love it. Now that’s bdsm. Pledging my allegiance to her instantly.

I am BORED. I liked when he was at least doing things of his own volition!

He flies his dragon off on Bachel’s orders and we get the line “Never had air smelled so… so… delicious.” Cryign

GASP he’s killed… CHILDREN!!!!!!! I hate how it only becomes horrifying for him to have done these murders once he realises they’re HUMAN children. Urgal children? The implication is that would’ve been a bit tacky but ultimately fine

Prison brothers blood pact. I feel so little about this. Ubek is 5000x more interesting than Murtagh but he’s been slotted into what is unfortunately a sort of magical indigenous person trope but where instead of being a human being, he is an orc. Which makes the whole trope much worse

Murtagh touched Alìn’s face… gasp! She’s been corrupted by the Touch Of A Man!!!!! (I do not care about this.)

(I care a little. For example she didn’t touch HIM. He just reached out and she didn’t pull away. This is the biggest decision about this character’s life, and she isn’t even allowed to be the one who makes it. He decides on her behalf, and she must be okay with it. Because she doesn’t pull away or fight him off.)

(Also Paolini doesn’t seem to be aware that ‘a woman who has been pledged not to be touched by a man’ would um. USUALLY be understood by a reader as euphemistic. Not that her purity could be forever ruined by a man literally just touching her face)

The way Paolini fills Murtagh’s brainwashed dialogue with oops all ellipses makes me want to tear the book apart with my teeth

Worst: how Grieve the guy who is part urgal is perpetually referred to as “heavy-browed.” “the heavy-browed Grieve” I’m sorry but I missed phrenology school, is that bad??

Also if he’s maybe part Urgal but Murtagh is now given a chance to making it clear that some of his best friends are urgals... Why is Grieve so distastefully described? What’s wrong with being half urgal? My suspicion: it’s the bloodlines intermingling

I suspect I can just skip every fucking dream sequence and flashback. Nothing of any value in these

This one guy, Lyreth, who trapdoored Murtagh for 2.5 seconds ages ago in the book, is TWICE referenced as holding/ touching the waists of “village” or “cultist” women in his dialogue tags. That’s the full extent of it. It’s not that there’s a giggling tavern girl sprawled in his lap while he’s speaking. These faceless women are exclusively sketched into existence by how a named male character’s hand is on their waist. We don’t know anything about how they are responding to his touch, which is extra in-your-face considering that Murtagh just obliterated a woman’s ritual purity by touching her face without asking. And it’s only ever these women’s waist. It’s not their hips or thighs or boobs. He’s not kissing their necks. I’m sure in Paolini’s mind this guy touching women’s waists is meant to read as sexual, which is supposed to reinforce that he’s a scumbag… but it doesn’t work because it’s so impersonal. These women are just… unmoving waists that he is just touching. It serves as a good illustration of how women—and sex and sexuality and bodies—are handled in these books. Men are never ruled by their strong and muscular bodies. Men have minds, and magic, and telepathy battles. Even when Murtagh is on a torture table or when he’s naked in front of a powerful woman who is actively inspecting his body, he doesn’t feel vulnerable. He doesn’t have an ass or a dick. The wind doesn’t make him shiver. He’s just a Mind. But women, well. They only have bodies when men touch them. The course of Alin’s life is defined by Murtagh’s touch, and even Nasuada, a fucking queen, only gets physical description via the coins Murtagh has in his possession and his memory of the cuts and bruises he left on her body. And women also have no minds—unless they’re werecats or elves or half elves, the only kind of woman who are remotely threatening, the only kind of women who are “as good as” the baseline of human men. Nasuada is proven as Murtagh’s equal because she was able to overcome the torture of her body. If he hadn’t tortured her, or if she had broken down, she wouldn’t have proven herself worthy of being his romantic partner.

Eragon’s romantic interest also started out being tortured. Not by him, but “girl who is tortured but is too strong to give up her secrets” was her entire characterisation for a book and a half, until he rescued her. That’s uh. That’s how you find girlfriends who are good enough for your protagonists.

THESE FUCKING BOOKS.

Bachel has put Thorn in a special wrought iron muzzle. Yet again, this is just objectively cool

We learn about who the cult worships: evil dragon underground. He makes fumes come out of the earth and they brainwash people and give them visions. He will come out of the ground and eat the sun unless every living thing worships him.

Really Bachel is not leading a cult she is leading an environmental rescue mission. Quick we gotta get everyone to worship this evil dragon STAT, or he’s going to wipe out all life on earth.

Why does an evil dragon living under the earth with the power to eat the sun (?!??!) actually want or need to be worshipped by “every living thing”. What is his motivation?? And why would that stop him eating the sun?

“The sculptures would have horrified most any artist in Alagaesia, no matter their race.” Mark this down as one of the worst sentences he has written yet!!

I realise now I’ve been misremembering multiple main characters’ names

I like Bachel telling Thorn to stay, like he’s a dog. That’s good to me

Murtagh is learning about the power of friendship to heal himself last minute, I guess

Why is Murtagh pausing to duel fucking Lyreth, the most boring man in the world. Is it because of the waists he touched??? I have never felt this man was worth any time at all

NOT Paolini specifically pointing out that Lyreth “smelled of a cloying peach scented perfume” and that he’s physically weaker than Murtagh as Murtagh overcomes him. Lyreth was too feminine to be strong, in the end

This book is obsessed with the word “youngling.” Murtagh says to Thorn “don’t kill any younglings.” He’s fighting Lyreth but he’s not worried because he himself is “no longer a youngling”. Fucking fuck off! just say youth. Child. Kid. Teenager even!! Come on!!

Murtagh going “this is taking too long” in the duel: me at the whole book thus far

“Is wrong-think to worship Bachel or Azlagur,” says Ubek. This is real dialogue in a book published in real 2023. Oh yeah btw everything he says is written like this

Oh, the urgal’s size and brute strength makes him Murtagh’s equal. I see

Grieve is legitimately yelling “kill the non-believers!!” and calling them desecrators??? Cartoon hours

To start winning the fight, all Murtagh had to do was find his magic sword! It stores all his potency and he inherited it from his father. Freud?? Don’t worry about it

The cultists are bleeding green blood???? Does this mean they’re not human or is it the lighting or what.

Groups of dragons are always being described as a Thunder Of. They’re only ever being described in visions but it’s always being described as “a thunder of dragons”, because Paolini is very proud of inventing his very own collective noun for dragons I guess

Buncha little pasty freaks showing up.

Murtagh’s ultimate challenge: he has to fight one hundred gollums

Paolini inventing new guys for his dungeon at unprecedented rates

Murtagh is legitimately busy trying to think of new names for his sword NOW?? He is just going to stop in the middle of this urgent fight to go find where the bad woman (Bachel) took the good woman (Alìn) to go “my sword has a bad name. It could have a good name.” Did he not have time while he was mouldering in the dungeon to think about this

He’s checking his compendium, like in video games.

Books have never been worse. If Murtagh/Paolini calls this sword Scar I will legitimately never know peace

Oh the sword is called Freedom now. Get it? Like America? It’s the most important value??

“Seeing the armor, Murtagh realized that the leather garb the cultists had donned for the festival of black smoke had been made to resemble Bachel's fantastic suit.”

what a sentence

This is the worst

I hate how her spear has a name and a dramatic history. Like come on

Fucking mind battles again

Alin is just… I’m sorry to her, but she’s not a real person. She’s a cardboard cutout in distress

The final boss fight should not be taking place in the magical world of the mind

Now she’s calling him “infidel?” Okay

The ultimate battle: the structuring power of masculine language versus the primeval chaos of raw women’s emotion!!! Who will win!! Hint: Christopher Paolini wrote this!

“She seemed merely a woman again.”

‘Merely’ is how Paolini always describes women (when he thinks they’re worth describing of course)

Wait… is the only reason Bachel has been intimidating REALLY just because she’s been channelling a tough evil boy dragon? Once the mask is gone and he’s not empowering her… she’s merely…

I’m going to kick Christopher Paolini’s fucking ass

Murtagh feels so emotionally close to Bachel. As he splits her skull. Normal book

For real why were ALL the Riders so afraid of Bachel??? The gas fumes? Face masks not invented?? This seems pretty easy to solve like if they’d just. Sent more than one guy?

He passes out and the chapter ends of course. Then he wakes up in the city

Ah, Alin is blonde and blue eyed. She was a pale skinned virgin who needed rescuing from an evil and also foreign almond eyed amber skinned woman who was whipping her. You know how it goes

I hate how Alìn always calls Murtagh “my lord.” She’s like one of those medieval fighting game banners of a sexy woman. She’s a cartoon.

Isn’t it a shame that when Murtagh hastily gets out of bed to bow to Nasuada he is wearing pants. So much funnier if he wasn’t

I’m so over this book holy shit

Oh, for being the apparently only sole survivor of Murtagh’s obliteration of her cult and everything she’s ever known, Alìn is being promoted to… Nasuada’s maid. That’s not what she asked for. That’s just what she’s being told she’s going to do from now on. Fucking hell.

Nasuada is Jealous of this blonde woman and I was afraid for her because Nasuada is also famously the only black woman on the continent. But of course she has nothing to fear because only the most powerful woman in the land could ever be remotely Murtagh’s equal, which she proved by being stronger at being tortured than him

She asks him to stay and she touches his hand just lightly

The END??

They don’t even kiss?!!!?!! I had to read it twice to be sure. SEXLESS BOOK.

[alagaesia-headcanons]

you know, we have only Oromis words to tell how was Morzan when he was a kid, how can we be sure that he doesn't' exaggerate? Morzan was a rebellious kid, who could be rude and maybe cruel? A lot of kids can be cruels, it's doesn't mean they're fully bad from the start. I just think that Morzan had need of a parental figure who would correct his attitude and would CARE for him, because it what Oromis should have been: a teacher AND a parental figure since the kid was 10 when he took him.

YES THIS I 100% agree with you!! Forgive me for the very long rant I’m about to go on because I have many thoughts about Morzan that I’ve wanted to get down for a long while now. I find it super interesting to interpret that he wasn’t entirely malicious or irredeemable from the outset.

I really, REALLY don’t like the old order of Riders. From all the things we learn about them, they had a seriously objectionable system. The way they took human kids when they were 10 years old and then left them to the discretion of people like Oromis is brazen evidence of that. I’m really intrigued by the possibility that at least one of the Forsworn joined Galbatorix to dismantle the Riders out of a genuine aversion to their abuse and a desire to put an end to it and build something better, not just from a personal lust for power.

Given the way Galbatorix talks to Oromis and Nasuada, I think he would have presented his intentions that way to distract from his real deranged vengefulness. It would have fascinating implications for any of the Forsworn to have truly fallen for that, and then as the consequences of their actions fully unfold and Galbatorix becomes an even worse tyrant, for that Forsworn to burn with regret and resentment and hatred towards him. It would make for such an interesting dynamic during the Empire’s reign. I just want one disloyal Forsworn who hates Galbatorix because they feel tricked and used, it’d be cool!!!

Admittedly, Morzan is the only one of the Forsworn we have any background for at all, so it doesn’t mean much to say he’s the best fit, but the backstory we do have can potentially line up with that role very well. Morzan was very young when he met Galbatorix, and thus inexperienced and impressionable. He spent more time with him and would have been exposed to a lot more of his manipulation. And I think he would have reason to be predisposed against the Riders before they met, a resentment Galbatorix could have fueled for his own benefit.

I’ve made it no secret how much I loathe Oromis. Tbh the fact that Morzan spent years training under him is a huge reason why I’m able to sympathize with him lmao. I would also start killing people. That man could have never given the necessary care and tolerance and emotional support to a ten year old, but it seems like the new Riders were entrusted entirely to their mentors. We see how horribly Oromis mistreats Eragon and how that affects him even when he’s sixteen- his callous neglect inflicted on ten year old children is a disaster waiting to happen, especially if any of those kids weren’t well cared for to begin with.

Also, this is slightly pedantic, but when Oromis is talking about Morzan, he specifically says that he “grew so proud and cruel,” which implies that this issue was less significant or not there at all when he first took Morzan. His harmful behaviors apparently developed over time which should be addressed and cared for by whoever’s raising him. Oromis is the only one in a position to raise him and he still turns a blind eye to Morzan.

In my headcanons, Morzan grew up impoverished and neglected. He doesn’t know what fair and caring treatment looks like and so he also can’t identify Oromis’s abuse, but its impact is compounding on an already present wound. Morzan is starving to make something of himself because no one has acknowledged and loved him for who he already is, which makes for a horribly volatile mixture with Oromis’s penchant for demanding his students prove themselves against an arbitrary and merciless standard. Morzan’s susceptibility to Oromis’s pressure makes him viciously desperate to prove himself, intensely competitive, and highly reactive to disapproval. It creates a perception of inadequacy that bleeds into everything Morzan does.

When he’s unpressured and at ease, Morzan’s nature is actually quite reserved, slow, passive, and methodical, but he is so, so easily incensed. Because he’s so fixated on proving himself, he assumes everyone initially holds a very low opinion of him and that’s what necessitates he fight for approval. He just can’t fathom receiving acceptance, respect, or care without proving he deserves it, and so he’s perpetually clawing for more. And falling short feels so devastating because he’s never been shown his worth beyond people’s expectations.

To me, that’s why he ends up attached to someone like Brom, who idolizes and defers to him. For Morzan, it would feel like his endless efforts to prove himself have actually proven something. Because he thinks he has to earn love, Brom’s affection would also feed into Morzan’s ego, providing a long desired vindication. The fact that Oromis trains both of them makes their relationship so much worse. I feel like his relatively positive relationship with Brom could have balanced out and helped Morzan adjust with time, but there’s an unfortunate competitive aspect at play. As Morzan scrambles for Oromis’s approval, now Brom is also being trained and the differences between them present another metric that could make Morzan seem lesser. So he puts Brom down and fights against him for their master’s care and validation like they’re limited commodities.

I think, over time, Morzan comes to recognize elements of Oromis’s abuse. He simply doesn’t have the energy to constantly struggle for his approval forever, and as that starts to run dry, it reveals some things. He resents that Oromis belittles his struggles and only values efforts that yield the results he wants, so he stops putting in the effort. If Morzan still doesn’t matter to him after trying so hard, why should he keep trying? He hates that Oromis can never give a true justification for the standards he demands they reach, and he starts ignoring them. He despises how he lies when says he cares for him and wants the best for him, because he prioritized his utility to the Riders over his well being in every moment since they met.

So, when he meets Galbatorix, Morzan is bitterly resentful and disillusioned. He joins him out of desire for revenge on Oromis and to tear down the system that abandoned him to his abuse. I do believe Morzan genuinely loved Brom in a certain way, despite his mistreatment, and he starts trying to incite him against Oromis not solely because of his own vindictiveness but also out of concern for Brom. As Galbatorix’s plans start to move, Morzan balks and begins seriously doubting him, even more so as the scope of slaughter unfolds, but he swallows his misgivings and stays determined to recruit Brom to the winning side. When one of the Forsworn kills the first Saphira despite Morzan’s insistence they be spared, he’s vehemently outraged. I think of Galbatorix’s disinterest in his uproar as the turning point in Morzan’s loyalty to him. As the Empire takes form, that disloyalty solidifies and Morzan hates Galbatorix for being even more cruel, manipulative, and uncaring than the people he wanted revenge on. Galbatorix tolerates it because forcing his vengeful resentment into subservience gratifies his sadistic impulse.

Now all of this is well within the realm of extrapolation and interpretation- none of these details directly suggest this version of Morzan’s character and motivations. They give the potential, but not real support, and they can just as easily be seen in any number of different ways. However, there is one single thing that actually grounds this in canon, which is that Morzan was a name-slave from very early on. When Eragon is telling Murtagh about the chance to change his true name and challenges his hesitation, Murtagh says, “[Galbatorix] has been creating name-slaves for over a hundred years, ever since he recruited our father.”

This detail fascinates me. There is the possibility that it’s a lie, but I can’t imagine Murtagh would make it up considering how much distaste he expresses towards his father. And I don’t think it would make sense for Galbatorix to lie to Murtagh about it either. If he didn’t actually have control over Morzan’s name then, claiming he did would discredit that real loyalty Morzan would have had to feel for him and his cause to do everything of his own free will. I think it’s the truth. Galbatorix learned Morzan’s true name more than a hundred years ago, before the fall, when he recruited him- which, to me, feels like before Morzan even helped him steal Shruikan’s egg.

Morzan either knew his true name already or Galbatorix went through his mind to find out, and the latter seems far more likely. Given the way Morzan’s described: young, arrogant, weak minded- I highly doubt he knew and the way Murtagh brings this up implies Galbatorix’s skill at uncovering names. Morzan either felt so loyal to Galbatorix at that point that he willingly let him in his mind, he was coerced into agreeing to it, or Galbatorix did it by force.

This still doesn’t mean Morzan wanted to dismantle the broken parts of the Riders instead of fully destroying them and that Galbatorix manipulated him into starting a war he found appalling- but it makes that idea much more feasible. If Morzan did realize Galbatorix’s intentions weren’t what he said and that he didn’t want to take things so far, he couldn’t back out. Any reluctance or disagreement would have been overridden and things would unfold exactly how they did.

I think Morzan was wounded and angry and starving for true respect and care that lured him to Galbatorix, and the precarious pride he clung to made him look away from the severity of Galbatorix’s actions. Then he realized his desperation was preyed upon only when it was far too late.

[modern-inheritance]

Brom’s turn to be random and weird

Eragon and Co. are at a war council meeting that has devolved into bickering between Orrin, the Council of Elders and Nasuada. Eragon, Brom and Arya are staying out of it as they’re considered just ‘other’ enough to know not to get tangled in ‘purely Varden trivial affairs’ so they don’t inadvertently undermine Nasuada.

Eragon: *mentally to Brom and Saphira* any way Saphira and I can get out of this? We haven’t had to speak up for an hour now.

Brom: Unfortunately, no.

Saphira: *straight up taking a half-awake doze* give it another half hour and I’ll scare them off.

Eragon: much appreciated.

Arya: *doodling in note margins stick figures with swords and angy faces because why not and apparently not paying any attention*

Eragon: sooooo…what now.

Brom: we still sit here quietly and wait.

Brom: *reaches into an interior chest pocket of his armored coat and pulls something out*

Brom: *very quietly whispers out loud to Eragon* Pocket Chocolate?

Eragon: beg pardon?

Brom: Pocket Chocolate.

Arya: *doesn’t look up, extends hand, palm up, behind Eragon’s shoulders and is rewarded with a piece of chocolate*

Eragon: …isn’t it melted?

Brom: Pocket Chocolate never melts. Tropic stable.

Eragon: …………

Eragon: yes, please.

Eragon: *looks up when he realizes it’s quiet in the tent*

Nasuada: …really?

Brom: I have plenty to share, ma’am.

Arya: *holds out hand for another piece*

[sparklepirate]

Eragon telling Murtagh and Thorn to change their true names as if that's something that they can just... Do. Right now. On the spot.

As if Murtagh is just gonna be like "Oh shit really that's all it takes?? Aight cool let me just change my core identity real quick."

"Please, Murtagh, Thorn, will you not at least try what I've suggested? Have you no desire to resist Galbatorix? You will never cast off your chains unless you are willing to defy him." Like- Eragon- Buddy-

WHAT are they supposed to do RIGHT NOW? They were receptive from the very moment you brought it up. Was he like "Oh my god yes Eragon of course what a perfect flawless idea!!" No, he wasn't, but he was OPEN to it. He's being cautious and skeptical because he has to be- he's always had to be- but he's doing the VERY BEST he can do and saying "Yeah we'll look into it!" And you're like "Oh but won'T you PLEASE just consider it and do it right now??" Like??? What do you WANT HIM TO DO Eragon??

Also like- "Have you no desire to resist Galbatorix?" What do you THINK Eragon?? Do you think he and his dragon are mind slaves because they just looooove Galbatorix?? Do you remember him telling you they were fucking tortured??? Not only before the Battle of the Burning Plains, but afterwards too, when he LET YOUR SORRY ASS GO FREE? Do you not see "exploiting a technical loophole in his oaths to save his master's mortal enemy" as a form of resistance??? Eragon?????

[where-dreamers-go]

Would you mind doing Eragons reaction to the modern reader wearing make up and a nice modern outfit for the first time since they met?

(A/N: Hi there~! Eragon reaction time. I wonder how this would had turned out differently if I had listened to “Makeup” by Jesse McCartney?? Word Count: 172 words)

It had been an average work-filled day for Eragon. Everything went well. Almost predictable. Until he almost hurt his neck looking back to you as you took inventory of necessities.

The physical difference was subtle, however the more he looked, the more he noticed.

Thankfully, the Rider kept quiet.

His mind was the opposite.

Eyes on you, Eragon was taken aback by your appearance. Everything about you had your mark of deliberate style. All purposeful. Different.

They’ve worn that before, Eragon reminded himself. It must be from their home. I’ve never seen anything similar. It’s…really nice on them.

“Something on your mind?” You asked, turning to him.

Eragon’s eyes widened. “What? No.”

You quirked up an eyebrow.

They strangely know me too well for this.

The Dragon Rider did not know what to reply. Too caught up in half complete questions on the choice of your attire and how you were able to paint your face.

“I was…checking on you.”

Yes, they will completely believe that, he thought sarcastically.

[tired-fandom-ndn]

I haven't read Eragon in probably fifteen or more years (I'm not gonna bother looking up when it came out to figure out exactly how long) but I just wanna say I agree with you shipping Eragon and Muragh as well as Saphira and Murtagh's dragon. Hot.

But also I don't know if I ever knew Brom was Eragon's father so I feel like I just had a major plot twist dropped on me. :O I feel like that's something I'd remember lol. Wow!

But yeah I agree, they should've been full brothers. That'd make for a better story. And be hotter.

[context one two]

I've been shipping Eragon and Murtagh since 4th grade when I first read Eragon lmao. I know a lot of people stopped with the reveal that they're brothers, but a lot of people DIDN'T (as evidenced by the 10+ year old fics on FFN lmao) and I am desperate to drag more people into this pit with me. I just don't understand why people don't ship Saphira and Thorn too? All the parallels and narrative aspects of it, the same enemies-to-lovers potential that Eragon/Murtagh has, they would also just have such pretty purple eggs :)

I can't actually remember if it's ever explicitly confirmed that Brom was his father or if it was just heavily implied and assumed by other characters because of Brom's relationship with Selena, the timing of Eragon's birth, etc. I guess I'll see when I read Brisingr! I just finished Eldest, which ends with Murtagh "revealing" that he and Eragon are Morzan's sons and idk how tiny me felt about that (I probably thought it was hot, ngl) but adult me is seeing the narrative potential lost when the full story is revealed later.

The only thing that would make them being full brothers hotter is if Morzan was still alive to be an awful father and general creep to them but alas, that AU will only exist in my head.

[eliza-makepeace]

so i have some Thoughts™ about eragon turning into an elf-looking guy and they're not pretty.

to me it all seems like "elves are cool everyone else is not cool" and it clearly stems from paolini himself thinking that, but also *in story* i think it's worse.

first off, a big part of who eragon is, and what his struggle has come from, is being human. I don't like how it differentiates him from the rest of his family, from roran and garrow, from selena, and even from murtagh! it's like he rejects his whole history for something he thinks it's better. in eldest he says "this is what he was always intended to look like" and i'm like "how about no?".

he gets bullied by the elves (looking at u, vanir) bc he doesn't look like them and how could the first rider since the fall be a human and not an elf?!? the offence, the horror! the minute eragon resembles them is the minute vanir suddenly is all like "i like you now lol". and they do it without asking eragon whether or not he wants to look like them! he just wakes up the next morning and is like "oh, look at this.......i look great :)"

and tbh even if he likes it, it's a no no from me. like, part of the reason he wants to look like this is bc he thinks arya will like him better this way! (and then proceeds to keep asking arya about it even when she says no...like, my son, it's not your appearance that is the problem. stop fucking insisting. you're starting to look like a bit of a jerk)

and then there's the whole thing about the scar. he could've had it healed, he was the one who didn't want it healed in the first place! and then he goes to the oath celebration, they change his appearance and they erase his scar and he's fine about it? like. he *could have healed it* if he'd wanted to. and not even entirely btw, he could've done what murtagh did to essie's scar, reduce it and make it not hurt but keep it as remembrance of past pain. (btw i also think it's a really low shot when eragon says to murtagh at the burning plains "i'm not like u, i don't have the scar anymore" .......like, bro. this is not the "win" you think it is)

[vestige-nan]

My Wild Assumption of You Based on the ESO Boy You Crush On

Some of these make sense, some are just nonsensical but the vibe fits. If your boy didn’t make it on the list, I’ll make a part 2. 

Darien: You like solid and safe classics, like true vanilla ice cream or black evening gowns.

Razum-Dar: Warrior Cats kid. Or you're a fan of the “there’s only one bed between you and your hot, infuriating bodyguard” trope. Either way, you used to read a lot, but you don’t much anymore.

Sai Sahan: You’re wild for the childhood friends to unrequited love to mutual pining to lovers trope. You also like the “one bed vs you and your bodyguard” trope, but you still read a lot.

Abnur Tharn: Sarcasm, wit, and merited arrogance goes a long way with you. You like to argue, and you don’t mind losing an argument.

King Kurog: No, you can’t fix him. Yes, we all wish we could. You probably saw those cartoons/shows as a kid where someone chains themselves to a tree to save the forest from becoming a parking lot or something and you decided you were going to do that specific thing. It hasn’t happened yet.

Chief Bazrag: You’re a people pleaser. The harder they are to please, the more satisfying when you win them over. You also want to be held, and honestly you deserve to be held.

Sotha Sil: You’re desperate to be the one person the unattainable and emotionally unavailable sad boy opens up to. You needed more attention growing up.

Vivec: You might’ve been a theater kid, but you were definitely involved in some wild theater kid scandal.

Divayth Fyr: You’re the same as the Tharn lovers, but you either played Morrowind first or you think mer are prettier than men (you’re right).

Ashur: Naryu was your type, but you weren’t attracted to women enough to crush on her. Or you’re crushing on both and hoping for two-for-one Morag Tong business deal.

Leythen: You like watching drama unfold like in telenovelas. You probably don’t start it, but you’re quick to grab the popcorn when you see it. You wanted to be privy of the Vivec lovers’ theater kid scandal, but you weren’t in the right crowd. You’re also a sucker for a good redemption arc.

Fennorian: You’re under 18 and you aren’t over Twilight.

Verandis Ravenwatch: You’re over 28 and you aren’t over Interview with a Vampire.

Rada al-Saran: You’re the best of the vampire lovers on this list. You're either the sweetest, softest flower angel or you’re so hardcore, you could eat glass and not break a sweat.

Mannimarco: You had a casual Harry Potter phase and wanted to date Draco Malfoy. Or his dad.

Vanus Galerion: You had a violent Harry Potter phase and read all the books and the extra books and saw all the movies and knew all the best fanfictions and knew all the lore and the magic system and you wanted to be a wizard so bad you look out your window every moment wishing waiting wanting for your letter you look at every owl with hope and every rat with skepticism-

Za’ji: Warrior Cats kid. Or you’re probably a huge Disney fan and have been to Disney Land/World more than once. Your favorite Disney movie is probably one of the 90s ones.

Nahfahlaar: Eragon kid. Or his voice reverberated in your soul <3. You probably like the “I hate everyone but you” trope. You also probably wanted to redeem Alduin, or at least join him.

Any of the Daedric Princes: You saw the red flags, but red is your favorite color.

Rigurt the Brash: To say you like himbos is a given, but I also think you’re the type to break too easily when someone gives you puppy-dog eyes.

[everythingloveandanimated]

Something I would love to see in subsequent World of Eragon books is Murtagh riding Saphira. Even better they go on a mission together.

Had this idea (not sure how feasible it is) that Murtagh’s mission to expose and defeat the Draumars takes him to Farthen Dur. Saphira firmly advises that she be the one to take him. She has the better rapport with the Dwarves and can use that to protect Murtagh, and if Thorn begins to feel claustrophobic, there isn’t easy access to the open sky and the dwarves could get hurt in his haste to break for open air.

Murtagh agrees for Thorn’s sake and safety

There’s reluctant agreement from Thorn plus a subconscious thought that he is not good enough for his rider but it’s decided nonetheless.

Murtagh is obviously nervous as they approach Farthen Dur. Not to mention a bit guarded from Saphira. The journey through the Beor’s is like a journey down memory lane. They speak of their journey, they speak of the first major moral disagreement between him and Eragon. Safira gives her input, Eragon was young and very set in his moral code. But she does agree that if Torkenbrand had fought, the results would’ve been the same. Murtagh notes that she doesn’t condemn his actions, she accepts them far easier than Eragon did, and she seems to understand his mindset better. (like Thorn, she notes that Murtagh seems to be part dragon. She is quite pleased with this little tidbit of revelation of Murtagh‘s character. Murtagh can feel her approval, it briefly helps his mood.)

Throughout their flying, she explains how Eragon sees Murtagh and acknowledges that the opposite nature of their upbringings do cause a rift of understanding in their relationship.

He faces Orik for the first time in a long time. (not many ideas for this part.) Later Orik tells him that he will never forgive him for killing Hrothgar but as long as he is king he will allow Murtagh and Thorn to keep their lives as thanks for their part in helping Eragon defeat Galbatorix.

The grudge is something that Murtagh expected and accepts with grace as well as heaviness in his heart. However, Orik’s decree that their lives are secure under his kingship surprises him.

During their visit Murtagh and Saphira stand in the very place Eragon and Arya stood when the Twins’ ambush happened.

Murtagh: That’s where it all went wrong.

Saphira makes a regretful sound and moves her head towards him in an approximation of a hug.

Saphira: I am so sorry, Murtagh. Our best chance to save you from Galbatorix would have been right here. I flew as fast as I could but I was too late. Arya went to look for you in the tunnels but when she found your bloody clothes and couldn’t see you by scrying she assumed the worst and us along with her. We failed you, and you and Thorn have suffered greatly for our failure.

Murtagh: (touching Saphira’s jaw) Thank you. But you were supposed to think I was dead. The twins told Galbatorix’s spy master Yarek that I was here. Yarek was the one who made the plans for my abduction and told the twins what to do.

Saphira: you told Eragon our first night here that you didn’t want the Empire to know where you were. Bringing you here endangered you and sealed your fate. Exactly what you were trying to avoid.

Murtagh: True. (he reminisces about his first time in Farthen Dur. He would not have met Nasuada if he hadn’t come. Would not have experienced her surprising kindness, and in a way Ajihad’s kindness. He was treated far better than he ever expected to be by those two.)

Saphira also brings him to the star sapphire. She explains how she fixed it using the collective emotions of the dwarves present, as well as her own admiration for the construction of Tronjheim and overall craftsmanship of the dwarves. She tells him how angry and heartbroken they were at her for destroying it in the first place. How they forgave her after she had made amends. She gives him a realistic hope for forgiveness his own debts. Opening himself up and sharing his experience, allowing other people to connect with him, will go along way in redeeming himself. He’s unsure sharing such painful raw parts of himself. Saphira assures him that he can show as much as he’s comfortable with, but should also show enough to cure ignorance.

After a moment he states his own forgiveness of her for not flying fast enough to save him, and for not being able to march on Uru’baen sooner to help save him and Thorn. Another approximation of a hug with her head and neck, while he hugs a section of her neck.

Because it wouldn’t be a true World of Eragon segment without some sort of fight turning everything sideways, some sort of conflict happens. Orik and Murtagh each have moments where they protect each other. 

Murtagh explains his mental situation and decision to kill Hrothgar. Orik gets a level closure. He still feels utterly betrayed, and will not forgive him but he thanks Murtagh for his explanation all the same.

Murtagh asks Orik for permission to go to Ajihad’s tomb and Hrothgar‘s tomb to pay his respects. 

Orik grants it.

In front of Hrothgar’s tomb, Murtagh considers making a dwarven rite of respect as a member of an enemy clan would make to a fallen rival dwarven leader. Saphira encourages him saying would probably be a good idea and would go a long way in making amends with Durgrimst Ingeitum. She calls it his own Star Sapphire. Murtagh is a reluctant at the political spectacle of it and how it will make him look (unsure if he wants to make himself vulnerable in this way). He didn’t join Hrothgar’s enemy willingly. But he still slew him under Galbatorix’s thumb, and more or less in Galbatorix’s name. Saphira tells him to think on it a little more, and to follow through when he’s ready.

He makes a promise that he will return with Thorn so they can pay their respects together.

In front of Ajihad’s tomb, he weeps. Regretful and devastated that he couldn’t save the man who spared his life and gave him a chance to prove himself. Regretful and utterly ashamed of what he did to Ajihad’s daughter. Knowing full well that Ajihad would never let him in the same hallway, or even in the same wing as Nasuada after her torture if he was still alive. Any chance however slim or imagined he has with her now would be near non-existent. (Murtagh later wonders if Nasuada had a part to play in Ajihad giving him the chance that he did. It breaks his heart even further that the kindness of these two has been returned with torment and failure to protect them). Saphira gives him a moment alone with his tears before reminding him of her presence. She gives wisdom and insight into Ajihad’s character and gives an honest assessment of the possibility of a relationship between him and Nasuada. Given their reputations and political positions it has a very slim chance of working out. She’s careful not to give him false hope for the future, but alludes to the fact that Arya and Eragon’s relationship seemed to not work out, and yet they are on good strong terms.



[bardkin]

being a ridden dragon & not yet knowing what that entails

inspired by @who-is-page's post here! i decided fuck it !! i wanna write (more) about the draconic aspects of myself, timidness be damned.

as a quick preface, i am a psychological 'kin! i hold loose beliefs in multiverse & a form of reincarnation, but i don't know for sure if / don't think those things apply to me specifically.

o()xxx[{:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::>

i've known i'm a dragon for a while, now. i go somewhat in-depth about it here in this entry about adopting/trying out the term folcintera for myself, but i didn't really touch on one of the newer revelations i had about it:

i'm the dragon in a rider-dragon pair.

as for how i know this, it just feels Correct. (far as i'm aware,) i don't have any past or concurrent life memories, or know who/what my rider is or was. this is a noema that i cannot explain further, as of yet. I Just Know this aspect is fact.

i mentioned [in my linked entry] that my first up close exposure to dragons was the Eragon series, which is what cemented my idea of what "dragon" was to me. ever since that series, i've been aggressively hyperfixated on dragon-rider stories; the kind of hyperfixation that waxes and wanes, but when it hits, it Hits like a Truck.

i don't think i'm from any one specific source, such as How to Train Your Dragon, Dragonriders of Pern, or Eragon. none of those really feel like places i've lived or belonged in. my specific brand of dragonity is wildly different from any dragons you'd see in the listed settings/stories, so i am not any dragon you'll see in those stories — but i also am.

moreso, i feel a connection to the dynamic between rider and dragon; the trappings don't truly matter, in the end. i am the archetypal dragon-with-a-rider, and see myself in almost any dragon-rider setting. i am a Ridden Dragon, and that will mean something different to everyone who interacts with dragon-rider lore — including myself. i am both folcinteric and an archetrope, in this regard.

before i awakened, and thought about dragon-rider stories, i thought i was simply wanting to live in a world where i could share a bond like that & go on adventures... and while that's still true, since i'm an escapist storyteller, there's a key difference between then and now.

i thought i had to relate to and imagine myself as the rider — and that never felt completely right.

now that i'm aware of and better exploring my draconic side, this aspect has come to light. and i have No idea what it could mean for me.

as stated, i don't know who my rider was/is or could be. i don't know what our dynamic was like, if our bond is of magical origin or through mutual trust. though, that might have something to do with me being archetypal, here. my rider could be anyone; our bond origin could be of any type, so long as it serves the purpose of the archetype.

dragon riding means different things to different people. sometimes it's about taming a wild beast, akin to horseback riding. other times it's a magical bond. and other times still, it's about trust and friendship.

i still don't know what my personal mythos is, or if i have one at all. maybe it is just that dynamic, nebulous and without a tether. or maybe it's just not uncovered quite yet.

i don't know how common being a ridden dragon is, be it in fictherian/fictionkin dragon spaces, or more general dragonkind spaces, because i haven't seen it talked about much. possibly because i'm just not looking in the right places, but, *shrug*!

i have no idea if this post will inspire any other dragons with riders (or maybe even dragon riders!) to write about their experiences. but, never know unless i post, so ;]

thanks for reading!

[guys-in-distress-database]

The GID Awards: Literature

Our next category is one that never seems to get enough praise: literature.

On one hand, I get why people aren't too hot on literary GID scenes. They're entirely conveyed through description, so there's no visuals. But that in itself is what makes them great in my opinion! Since you rely on your imagination, the scene can be anything you want, the character can look however you envision them. It's the medium most open to personal interpretation and I think that makes it special.

This one was also a tricky choice and I had to hold myself back from going full personal preference. In the end, I have to go with a certifiable classic, even though I didn't grow up reading it like the rest of the community:

The Hardy Boys: While the Clock Ticked

I think anyone even mildly familiar with GID will know this one. It's probably one of the most famous male bondage scenes of all time, cemented by that iconic cover. It is exceedingly rare to find a book that features bondage right on the cover, let alone male bondage, so I can just imagine all the kids seeing this and having their lives changed forever.

While it was not uncommon for Frank and Joe Hardy to be in distress in their books, this one was special because it advertised the distress as the core selling point of the book. That's special and needs to be acknowledged, especially considering this was back in the day when kidnapping your characters was probably the most common conflict present in children's media.

For the writing itself, it's rudimentary, as expected of the genre and time, but conveys the scenario well. I actually like the writing in the scene BEFORE the main one, where they're tied up on a boat. I don't have my copy on-hand, so I can't pull quotes, but there was nice description of how Joe is able to get his gag off. Compared to more modern scenes, it's more forward with the mechanics of the scene, using direct words like "gag" and "tied" instead of resorting to flowery description. While I do like the elaborate description in scenes like Inheritance, it is refreshing to read something very direct.

For its contributions to the community and those covers (hot damn), The Hardy Boys: While the Clock Ticked is my choice for best literary GID scene!

Honourable Mentions

Some novels I considered, but ultimately did not choose for this award:

Inheritance (for vivid description and a great death trap)

Eragon (because nostalgia)

Dune (for description and the bondage scenario being vitally important to the plot)

[olderthannetfic]

Completely putting aside the queer rep thing, I'm curious: Do people who are not book fans generally like the Good Omens TV show? In the book fandom we've been hoping for a live adaptation for decades but myself and a lot of other book fandom olds were very disappointed by the show. I was hopeful and optimistic about it until the trailer with the wall-slamming scene came out, which was the first clue that the characters were going to have a different dynamic in the show. (Book! Azi and Crowley would never. No, I mean it.) And then as soon as I got to the dove scene - which the show messed up completely - I had a really bad feeling that they weren't taking the book's themes very seriously.

(In the book, Aziraphale suffocates the dove through negligence and immediately forgets about it because he's too busy fretting about the Apocalypse and the hellhound not showing up; Crowley notices it and takes the time to resurrect the dove. The seeming role reversal there of the angel carelessly killing an innocent creature and the demon taking the time to care about the sanctity of life even while scared out of his mind that the Apocalypse is coming (which would mean all humans and doves everywhere were going to die) is a wonderful little early symbolism of the characters being more than their official Evil/Good labels, of their flaws and virtues, and of the overarching theme of the book. But in the show, Aziraphale kills the dove and is then the one to revive it, which makes the point of the scene ?????)

There's a lot of little things like that where I wonder if the creators missed the point of those scenes or just didn't care, and the end result is that the characters become a little flatter, a little less like the stereotype subversions they're supposed to be. (I've long been irritated with the show fandom because it felt like many of them just projected their longstanding bad boy/puttering intellectual favorite ship dynamic onto the two and didn't look too closely.) In addition, the angel and demon are very nearly B-list cast in the book. They're scene-stealers but in terms of plot they actually achieve very little, their arcs are about how they accept that they've grown as people, not about how they contribute to the Apocalypse. Because that's the point. The whole point of the book is that humans don't need angels and demons to be good or evil. Humans stop the Apocalypse and arguably start it. When the show puts human characters in the background and both elevates Azi and Crowley and spends additional screentime on new characters like Gabriel, the overall message is retained but makes for far weaker tea.

So like... it is very hard for me to like the show as an adaptation (some manage to enjoy both book and show as separate things, and I'm happy for them). At the same time it feels silly saying that it's a bad adaptation, because things like Eragon and Artemis Fowl and basically most book-to-screen things are out there. But I can't help but look at Neil Gaiman's background and the things he usually writes about and feel like TV GO has been made too much into his work, rather than his and Pterry's, and is ultimately weaker for it.

So for me it's really hard to judge its actual technical value as a standalone thing, but I'm curious what other people think of it. If the above elements of "huh, that scene seemed kinda random, why was it even here?" and general diluted sense of theme was something people picked up on.

--

I tried to read the book a few times in the 90s because it was ubiquitous. I loathed it and never finished.

I thought the show was well acted and had delightful chemistry between the leads. The cinematography and editing were nice. The costume design was excellent.

It isn't a particularly deep show or all that memorable to me, but it looks pretty, and Michael Sheen is hot.

Honestly, I'm not really the audience for the original themes. They've been done a million times by now (and even by the 90s), and they just remind me how much people think I should care about a Christian world view and how much I profoundly don't. It's like when people want me to care about Watchmen because something something deconstruction of 80s comics I didn't read.

The biggest change between the 90s and now is probably that this particular flavor of Cold War spies who are buddies when their bosses aren't watching has faded into obscurity instead of being absolutely everywhere.

Oh, and Queen is cool again.

[alagaesia-headcanons]

the wolves' dinner

This is the drabble I mentioned in this post. ( @marimo331 @dayzcakes ask and ye shall receive~)

Summary: Selena spirits Murtagh away to Carvahall so that she and Brom can raise him and Eragon together in peace, hidden from the world. But Murtagh never forgets the truth of his father, possessed of memories that his parents adamantly steer him away from out of their own fear of the past. Yet it does nothing to avert the reconvergence fated for them all...

Word Count: 1,157

Warnings: None

Read below or on Ao3

-

The field work is done and everyone else has returned to the house by the time Murtagh finishes up his final tasks in the barn. That’s partially by design, as he likes the quiet that arises when he lingers long enough. Selena sometimes chides that he comes in late for dinner, but she always saves him a portion anyway. Brom declares that if he stays out any longer, he’ll provide the wolves their own dinner, but with the good humor of man who’s ensured no such thing could befall him. His parents indulge and love him even as they raise their obligatory fuss. But Murtagh seeks the quiet to think about the things that have no place anywhere else.

Birka nickers at him and he pours a last bit of feed into her trough with a sigh. Judging by the shadows cast by the shaft of light spilling through the doors, he ought to leave soon to avoid another quip about the wolves tonight. Murtagh pats Birka fondly, promising, “I’ll go riding with you as soon as I get the chance.” Then he pulls the barn doors closed and diligently locks them.

In the last dying streaks of sunlight, as he turns to face his family’s secluded sliver of Palancar Valley, Murtagh sees the silhouette of a lone figure on horseback coming up the road. Instead of going directly up the hill to the house, he slowly wraps around the other way towards the road to get a better look, urged by a low, prevailing thrum of curiosity. The person rides into the shadow of a mountain peak, unveiling their colors and features. Atop a gleaming roan horse sits a broad shouldered man wearing a dark, fur lined cloak that looks as heavy as the well worn exhaustion suffusing him. He has black hair streaked with gray and a severe, lined countenance of eerie familiarity.

As his steed trots nearer, Murtagh sees one deep black eye and another of icy blue, and he knows he is looking into the face of his father.

Looking too blatantly for too long, it seems, for the man reins in his horse and throws Murtagh a sharp, skeptical stare with those mismatched eyes. Murtagh makes a token effort to ease his own scrutiny as the man glances at the distant house, then back to him. He scowls, then abruptly swings himself down from the saddle and faces him directly.

“Tell me your name.”

Those words flow like cold water down his spine, rousing him as if from a dream. Because, up until this moment, he could swear he’s had this very dream a thousand times. He cannot tell him the truth, wouldn’t dare, but he must say something. Any lie fleeing him, forgetting every name but his own, Murtagh shakes his head and impulsively answers with a sideways honesty, “I’m no one.”

The man tilts his head and takes a step closer. “Is that so? Because that sounds to me like the answer of a man who’s name could get him in trouble. Tell me.”

Murtagh doesn’t waver despite the alarmingly accurate assessment, pervaded by an incongruous calm. He suggests no guilt or fear. “That’s not what I meant. It wouldn’t mean something so serious because it doesn’t mean much at all. It’d be a waste of my breath and your time because I’m no one, really.”

The distrust in his eyes doesn’t vanish, but it shifts like the thought was shrugged off in favor of something else. “I don’t believe you. You don’t strike me as quite so insignificant.”

“It’s true. Not for lack of effort, but every time I’ve tried to figure out who I am, to make something of myself, the attempt was always disapproved of and cut off.”

The man grunts in acknowledgement. “A very stifled life that will lend you,” he allows.

Murtagh looks down the road in the direction he came, down that valley to the rest of the world, down south, in the direction of the Empire’s heart. “Is your life the same? Or have you tasted more freedom and learned what the world has to offer and made that your own? Do you know what it feels like... to truly come into your own?”

“No,” he declares promptly. “I’m no different. I have nothing to offer you- you’d better look elsewhere.” Murtagh wonders if his mother once felt similarly stifled and if, back then, his father believed differently about his ability to give her something more. “In my life, everything gained comes at a cost far higher than it was ever worth, and there’s no escape from all the loss. So it’s defining. My whole existence is stifled.”

Murtagh knows without a doubt why; his life exists directly beneath the thumb of the king. But he can’t acknowledge that, and it feels stingingly awkward to know the truth behind his bitter remarks far more intimately than he realizes. Instead, he does not confront it at all, gesturing behind the man and replying, “At least it lends you such a fine horse. It must make travelling a great deal more pleasant, because I can’t imagine a better companion than that. I’ve never seen a horse so beautiful. I bet it can race quicker than the wind- I’m jealous.”

Eyes narrowing, his lip curls back and his chin twitches up into a derisive angle, but the motion follows through until he’s turned aside, gaze torn away. He glares fiercely at the horizon, his flash of anger rapidly losing heat until exhaustion has quenched it, which then yields enough room for contemplation. “Well, I suppose you’re right. He’s an exceptional beast. And I appreciate the companionship of any creature that can carry me away, away, away...”

“Away from...?” he feigns, desperate to know what he might say.

The man looks his way, his black and blue eyes suddenly assuming an imposing, indomitable clarity in that moment, taking in every last piece of him. Then he comes a step closer and grips Murtagh’s shoulder, thumb angled down to press into his bicep, stopping his heart mid beat at the sensation of his father’s touch. “For your sake, child, may you never find out,” he intones, like delivering a blessing.

Then he releases him and pulls away, turning back to his horse. After he lifts himself into the saddle, the distance and darkness make the two different colors of his eyes almost indistinguishable. The sunlight dies a fast death in the valley. “Will you tell me your name?” Murtagh asks before he stirs back into motion.

“No,” Morzan says. “No point. It won’t do you any good.”

“Alright. Farewell then, no one.”

That earns him a smile, one so unexpected, his breath falters for a second. “Ha. Same to you, my fellow no one. Good luck coming into your own.” He flicks the reins and his horse takes off at a trot, carrying him away, away from Murtagh.

[modern-inheritance]

Modern Inheritance: Surprise!/Name (Post War)

(A/N: uuuuh, I didn't expect this to reach over 1k words so...I guess it's a fic. I wanted to continue on the babby Fírnen train a little, and officially put down in writing why Islanzadí required Arya to be a crown regent until 2-3 years post war {why Arya and Firnen didn't leave with Eragon and Saphira. I think like a year passes between end of the war and them leaving either way, yeah?}. To put it simply, Iz survived Barst's blow, but it destroyed so much of her arm and shoulder that she lost it at the shoulder joint. Working with Glen helped a lot, but it takes Rhunön a good while to develop, fit and test a prosthetic for her, and it takes Iz a longer time to heal physically and mentally, adapting to this new world as well as her new arm.

But this? This is mostly just cuteness imo. Oh and it's like a sentence, but I'm exploring further effects that use of the Name has. It's not a long term effect but Murtagh, Eragon and Arya all feel/have effects from being in proximity/using it. Cheers!)

~~~

Arya stood outside her mother’s room, staring at the door. It wasn’t without some irony that she was the one there, rather than the other way around. She was sure the scene had played out hundreds of times at her own rooms, Islanzadí waiting for her daughter to shake off whatever effects the war and imprisonment had on her psyche.

She didn’t knock. Just pushed her way in. Shredded the wards the former queen had set to prevent just such a thing from happening with a deft trailing of her fingers. The Name still lingered in her blood, pulsing with each heartbeat. Eragon had reported similar effects, the unintentional reworking of magic at barely a thought. It would have to be studied, but for now…it had uses.

“Go away.” 

Islanzadí’s voice was low and raw. Even from where she sat in the wicker chair with her back to her daughter, Arya could tell she had been crying again. Staring out the hazy half drawn curtains, her remaining hand curled limply in her lap. The blanket around her shoulders hid the new slope her right side ended in, the sudden drop at the end of her collarbone. 

Arya closed the door behind her. “That’s my line.” She couldn’t help the wry tilt to her lips. How odd it was to be on this end of things. “And I know you’ve been asking about where I’ve been.” The grin fell. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have disappeared like that. Especially now.”

Silence hung heavy between them. 

“I’ve been staying at the Crags. Cleaning the place up.” Arya shifted on her feet. It wasn’t exactly true, but it wasn’t a lie either. “I want you to come by and see it.”

“I don’t want to.” Islanzadí’s voice was hollow. “Another time.”

Her daughter sighed. “Glen said you haven’t left your rooms for a week.”

“And you would know that if you ever thought me worthy to speak to.” The sharp barb slapped back. Arya took it without complaint.

Instead she tried a gentle prod. “You need to keep moving. It’ll be worse if you don’t.” The former queen snorted. “Look, mum, I am sorry I didn’t come. There was…something happened. And I wanted to share with you, I did. I still do. But I thought…” The words felt dry on her tongue. “I thought you’d come out. I didn’t think you would need me here. And that was wrong.” 

Islanzadí shifted slightly. It was only to curl in on herself even more than before. “There is nothing out there that I wish to see.”

“You’re being stubborn.”

“Go away, Arya.” 

Arya sighed again. “No. I told you, there is something that I need to share.”

“Go. Away.” There was a growl in the voice this time. Finally. Some kind of emotion. “Leave!”

Despite the anger in her mother’s voice, Arya was smiling. She knelt in the moss and carefully lowered her bag to the floor, shutting the curtains with a word. Islanzadí cursed, but the younger elf paid her no mind as she tugged the drawstring open and helped the bag’s occupant disentangle himself.

‘You’re getting a bit big for this bag, hm?’ A soft pulse of pride at his growth, mirth that he was again being transported as he had when he was inside an egg. ‘Be gentle with her. She’s hurting.’ The nearly two week old hatchling stretched his neck out and bumped his snout against his Rider’s nose.

“Don’t scream.” Was the only warning Arya gave before she let the little dragon clamber all four paws onto her clasped together fists and forearms and helped him launch into the air.

He sailed. Up, over, and promptly folded emerald wings and dropped right into the unsuspecting Islanzadí’s lap.

Islanzadí jolted. Her mouth opened, about to yell a scathing retort at her daughter for being so damn infuriating as to throw something at her, especially when she damn well knew she couldn’t catch anything right then, let alone somethin–

Green. Scales. A set of wings flared out for balance as little talons grasped at her covered knees. Amber eyes, bright, inquisitive, eager, proud, meeting her own.

Dragon. 

That. 

That was a dragon. 

There was a dragon in her lap. 

A small one. A small dragon. A small green dragon. Purring. 

There was a baby dragon in Islanzadí’s lap and her brain was no longer thinking of the feeling of her clenched right hand, her aching shoulder, the new ways her body moved and there was a dragon in her fucking lap and it was flicking the tip of its tail and sniffing her remaining arm and now he was looking straight at her.

A wheeze left the former queen’s chest. 

“What the fuck?” 

The hatchling burbled at her, a big, toothy grin that was somehow oh so familiar. Oh, that was not the first time he had heard that word, no ma’am. 

“Wh…” the words came tumbling out. Elation and shock and even a bit of fear. “Who’re…? Who did you…?”

A pair of hands filled her vision. Just as familiar as that silly little pointy smile. Scuffed, scarred, worked, her daughter’s hands. 

The left palm gleamed with an otherworldly silver mark.

The beaming smile was evident in Arya’s voice. “Surprise!” 

And the emerald hatchling clambered up, careful of her right side, and got nose to nose with his Rider’s mother. 

‘Surprise!’ 

Then, with the proudest puff of his chest, the little hatchling sat back on his haunches. He was getting so good at his words!

‘Fuck!’ 

There was a long silence.

Islanzadí blinked. “Well…that settles any doubt, then.”

“String Bean!” Arya sounded exasperated even through her thoughts. “I told you, you can only say that word when I say that word!”

He looked particularly smug. ‘Fuck.’

Arya dropped her face into a hand. “Fuck.”

“String Bean?” The new Rider peeked from between her fingers. “Please tell me–”

“It’s not permanent.” Arya trailed around the wicker chair and sat with her back braced against the wall below the window. “Actually, it’s part of why we’re here.” She opened her arms slightly in invitation. The dragon dove off her mother’s lap with a chirp and pounced headfirst into the woman’s sternum, eliciting a cough. “He needs a name.”

Islanzadí leaned back and rested her chin on her remaining fist, brows furrowed. “Brom is still here, is he not? Surely he has a wider–”

“We already tried.” Her daughter cut her off. “He didn’t like any of them. The…others. That Eragon left. They didn’t have any he liked either. Ow.” Arya winced at the hatchling’s claws pricking her thigh as he got comfortable. He was certainly growing at a decent pace. 

“Why me, then?” The former queen’s eyes suddenly narrowed. “I cannot allow you to name him after your father.”

“No, no. He’s not got the same…hm, the same presence as he had. He’s different.” Arya rested a hand in the gap of the little one’s spines as he finally settled. “I wanted to ask you before I told him the name of Great Aunt Tenari’s dragon.”

Islanzadí’s eyes brightened at the memory. Her aunt, her father’s sister, had been chosen as a Rider centuries ago. Tenari had been a streak of lightning, a force of nature, in the order’s ranks, driven and more boisterous than many elves dared even during the more freeing time of the golden age’s midpoint. Her dragon had been much the same, a massive teal male with scattered groupings of deep emerald scales that peppered his body like green stars. 

The woman would never forget the feeling of looking into one of his great eyes when she was little. The sunlight that seemed to radiate from their depths, the warmth and booming, rich timbre of his mental voice that felt like laying safe in summer fields of grass and flowers in the Beor mountains, the towering peaks looming above. 

He had been a sight to behold. And even more, he was the perfect companion, the perfect match of energy and light and presence for Tenari. Both so wild and so free, so soaked in the sun and open to the world that they would so eagerly carry on their shoulders if asked.

“I think it would honor them, Tenari and Fírnen both, if this little one wanted to carry on his legacy.” The tilt of Islanzadí’s lips felt almost wistful. If only they could see what had become of their family now, on this very day.

“Fírnen.” Arya tested the name on her tongue, the smile that it brought. How she had yearned to meet him, meet Tenari, after seeing the few fairths that had been saved. She begged Oromis and Glaedr for stories of their adventures and was always disappointed at the meager handful that survived. Tenari and Fírnen, not only Oromis and Glaedr, Brom and his beloved Saphira, had been one of the driving forces for her to take up the fight so young. 

The name felt right. But it was not her decision to make.

“Well?” Arya looked down at the glittering emerald bundle in her lap. “What do you think? Fírnen? As your name?”

The hatchling mulled over it. She could feel him turning the name over in his mind, examining it from different angles. A thread reached out and studied her memories surrounding the name, the fairths she had seen of the teal dragon and her great aunt. 

A soft purr of acceptance vibrated through Arya’s hand draped in the hollow of his spines. The dragon gave a sharp nod, the thoughtful glint still in his eye. ‘Fírnen. Good name. I am Fírnen.’ He nodded again, firm and sure. ‘Good shit.’

“What on earth have you done to him?” Islanzadí’s voice held no anger, just dry amusement.

Arya ignored the comment and lifted Fírnen up, elated. “Fírnen!” She beamed, bright laughter bubbling from her throat. “You have a name now!” Smoke drifted from the sides of her partner’s parted jaws, the same bright beams of sunlight dancing in amber eyes. “Arya and Fírnen! One of the best Dragon and Rider pairs to walk Alagaësia!” Arya laughed again. “No, to Fly! Fírnen, one day we will fly together! That’s incredible! Flying! You and me!” 

Islanzadí couldn’t help her own smile. This. This is what she had wanted to see after so many years. Her daughter, happy. Looking to a future without war. So much had been lost, she had wondered if she would ever see that smile again. 

And even though she could still feel her right hand clenched in an unyielding fist, her elbow bent and shoulder braced against Barst’s blow…Islanzadí knew in that moment, this fleeting piece of time and memory shared with her daughter, her daughter the Rider and the dragon Fírnen. Everything had been gained.