Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Five of the forsworn lumber through the damp swamp. Stumbling over fallen logs and sloshing in the thick mud. This was so far an awful reconnaissance venture.

Despite how humid it should be, frost felt like it was biting at their bodies. It was too cold for the middle of summer. 

The elf to Galbatorix’s right, Kialandí; His eyes had flickered to something in the mud up ahead. Galbatorix’s eyes followed Kialandí’s, something caught his eyes. White. White as bone. Fur— no hair. Someone small was laying face down in the mud.

A kid… a boy. 

the air seemed suffocating. 

Galbatorix freezes. It felt like his throat was tightening as he got the ghostly feeling of being drowned in mud. Being too weak to lift his head…. To survive.

A hand on his shoulder subtly brought him back. A break in his inner turmoil. Morzan. He was  standing a few paces back. Now looking at Galbatorix. 

Formora looked down at the kid from her tall stature. “Is it dead?” She asks, tilting her head. Long elfin ears twitching. 

Kialandi crouches down next to the kid. “It looks human. I think. It’s clearly odd looking, I doubt that's normal for a human..” Kialandi’s long elven face scrunched into a calculating expression. Taking note of the boy’s pale skin and cropped white hair.

Galbatorix looked around the swampy area. Footprints circled the boy before heading off north. Someone had dumped the boy here, whoever it was had clearly taken their damn time…

“We aren’t as alone here as I thought.” He mumbles. Feeling a little more concerned about who could be out there… or what…

“Aye.” Morzan sighs. Rubbing his face glaring around the twisted trees as if he personally wants to uproot all of them. Then set them on fire.

Saerlith crouches down next to the prints. Almost shrinking into the muddy undergrowth.

“They’re old, maybe a few hours at most a day.” He breathes out resting his hand down on the footsprints. Soft eyes hardening as he searched the prints.

Formora glances at her brother Kialandi. Then the two stare at Galbatorix.

“Do you think it's one of…?”

“No.” Saerlith cuts in. “Look at the prints, they’re not work boots or anything similar, they’re what common folk would wear.”

The Twins nod. Both frowning, having matching facial expressions. The downsides of Formora and Kialandi being Identical twins.

Kialandi and Formora were now crouching by the child. “Look at the bruises on his body.” Kialandi points out. Something that rubbed everyone wrong.

“He is odd looking… you know how superstitious humans can be. Especially this rural...” Formora snarks. Eyes sharpening as she looked at the boy. Pity swelling in the ferocious rider’s eyes.

“They probably thought he was cursed.” Saerlith says. His face had hardened. Saerlith’s whole body seemed to tense with unspoken anger at the actions taken to the child. Blonde hair falling in front of his face as he glares down. Jaw clenched hard.

“Doubt their coming back.” Morzan snarls glaring around. Body tense, ready to fight. His lips pressing into a thin line. His long dark hair draping over his shoulders almost like a lion's mane.

“Can we keep him~” Formora says, batting her eyelashes at Galbatorix. While clasping her hands together in a faux pleading manner.

“What? No.” He replies back sternly. Creasing his eyebrows. “What would we even do with it? He's not a damn dog.” He adds trying to drill the point home to the begging elf. That they were in fact not keeping the strange child they found in the woods.

______________________________________

Turns out he'd been out voted by his subordinates. 

Chapter Text

The boy felt smothered in darkness. His body ached and throbbed. Then suddenly felt alight by an invisible blaze; it felt like spiders crawling over his body. It made him want to tear into his skin.

Then the horrible, horrible feeling started to wane.

And his thoughts into nothingness.

His eyes fluttered open.

The boy's face was no longer forced into the bone-chilling, suffocating mud.

He felt warm. Something that felt like fur was wrapped around him. There was no wind. No sound if the buntings whistles. Just… nothing

He rolled over onto his side pulling the blankets closer. Wanting to stay warm forever.

The boy regretfully opened his eyes.

He sought sleep but he knew his traitorous body wouldn't let him.

His eyes were met with flowing red fabric.

He sat up quickly looking. The room was large. Walls decorated with stone work. A large plush red bed sat beneath him, dark furs covered the bottom half of the bed. A canopy of fabric hung down from the ceiling covering the sides of the bed. A rug sat in the middle of the room brown and red woven together in mindless patterns. And on the wall opposite him, was a painting of a white rabbit with red eyes.

This definitely wasn't the swamp.

The room seemed almost unnaturally warm as if a fireplace was inside. But the boy could spot no fireplace or cause for the warmth.

Three swift knocks suddenly came from the door to his left. He flinched back startled.

Then the door opened.

A plump looking woman came in holding a silver platter. On it was a goblet and a bowl with a piece of bread.

The woman smiled. Too wide.

She wore a bonnet and a dark dress. The boy shrunk back.

As if sensing his fear. The woman stepped back.

“Its for you sweetie.” Her voice was sterile, making his heart pitter-pattered against his chest.

The woman puts the platter down on a desk. Gave him a soft smile. Then she left. Just like that.

The boy curled into himself, feeling so… so uneasy it made him sick. He started trembling uncontrollably. He squeezed his eyes shut until the feelings went away. He looked at the food on desk. He was starving.

The boy swung his legs over the bed.

He gingerly walked over to the bed. Nervous.

On it was a goblet of water and a bowl with some sort of broth or meat in it.

He gingerly picked up the glass and drank from it. With the plan to wolf down his food. It felt as if he'd been starved.

After he finished eating he went back to sitting on the bed, rubbing his hands along the velvet fabric. Staring at the room around him. He hadn’t considered why he was here, how he got here… he was starting to think maybe he should… the feeling started bubbling up again, his stomach was turning itself into knots.

Throat tightening.

Eyes refusing to focus.

The door opened swiftly. Startingly.

A man entered the room. He had skin the color of tarnished bronze. He had a strong nose, deepset dark eyes and longer sable hair. The man was dressed nicely. A red cape hung from his shoulders, he was suited in detailed purple and black clothing. A golden crown rested upon his head… Oh. Oh…

He curled in on himself. The man’s dark eyes drilled into him scrutinizing his entire being. He couldn't think, he was so nervous.

The man took a few steps into the room before sitting on the floor.

“I’m not going to hurt you.” The man’s voice was rich and deep. His eyes didn't leave the man. “My name is Galbatorix.”

The boy's hand grips the velvet sheets. He felt as if he should know that name but for some reason he didn't.

“Galbatorix?” He repeated testing the syllables on his tongue.

The man— Galbatorix nodded. “What's your name, boy?” There was an attempt to be gentle on the man’s part but the authority in it made him quiver.

The boy shook his head. It's not that he didn't have a name, he just couldn't recall it. It seemed fuzzy whenever he thought about it.

Galbatorix’s gaze sharpened. The boy felt a headache start to come on. The man frowned then left without another word.
——

Galbatorix sighed. The boy hadn't been lying. But the more he learned, which was basically nothing, the more the mystery unfolded and he did fancy a good mystery… but this… seemed darker. A boy found half beaten to death in a swamp in the north where it had been warm. The freezing north. He walked through Uru’Baen’s palace gardens. Trying to clear his head.

Fortunately or unfortunately Morzan was waiting for him. His handsome face in its usual scowl. His mismatched eyes brewing with anger. Not towards anything in particular. But anger at the world.

“Ah Morzan where have you b—“ Galbatorix was cut off by a glare and a snarl.

“You were late.” Morzan rumbles. Galbatorix wondered if he'd been a dragon in a past life with all of his snarling.

“Morzan I had matters I had to attend to—.”

Galbatorix tries to reason. Morzan borderline tackles him in a hug burying his face in his neck.

“You always have time for work but never for me.” Morzan whispers into his skin. Anger simmered in his eyes.

“Listen Morzan, I was checking in on the child we found.” Galbatorix breathes out.

Morzan’s mood sours even more.

“I don't even know why you—.” Galbatorix cut him off.

“I didn't want to but the twelve of you did and at that point and I wasn't gonna stop them, you realize if he's from where we think he is that’s valuable information Morzan and we aren't wasting it. Children can be quite perceptive. I won't waste resources!”

By the time he finished Galbatorix was out of breath.

Morzan stares at him.

“You didn't need to give me a lecture.” The other man mumbled pulling back and crossing his arms like a petulant child. Some things never change with a man.

“The boy seems to have a large chunk of memories missing.” Galbatorix mused.

“You say this like memory erasing can't be a basic spell.” Morzan hisses out jealousy dripping from his eyes. Galbatorix rolled his eyes, he had been spending time with Morzan. As much as he could anyway…

“Morzan.” He says sharply.

Morzan glared at him. His face was like a lion’s. Angry and solid.

“Don’t.” He snaps stalking off.

“Morzan… wait…” He tries to say softly, reaching out. Wanting to grasp the other man’s arm.

The other man didn't turn around. Galbatorix frowned a pang of sadness stirring within him.

Galbatorix shook his head and walked to his study. He didn't pay much attention to his surroundings, he didn't need to. Servants and others in the palace had learned to move out of his way.

…

When Galbatorix had gone to bed. Morzan hadn't joined him like he usually did. He felt his heart sink in his chest. He messed up, didn't he.
—————————————————————

Morzan stalked through the halls.

How had some stupid little child entrapped Galbatorix’s attention instead of him. Galbatorix was supposed to spend time with him. He wanted Galbatorix to spend time with him. He had been late to their rendezvous in the gardens today. He said he'd be there on time but it didn't happen. It didn't happen at all! Morzan was just seething in anger and hurt. He was so enraged. He needed a drink or he needed to punch someone. The latter seemed more appealing.

Morzan was so stuck in his own thoughts he smacked into someone.

Who in the blazes was up at this hour.

Saerlith looked up at him. Blonde hair shaggy and messy with sleep deprivation.

“Sorry Morzan.” The younger man mumbles trying to slip past him.

“What are you doing at this hour?” Morzan says glaring at the blonde stopping him from walking away.

Saerlith apologized profusely avoiding the question. Morzan grabbed his forearm. “I asked you a question. I'm asking as your superior.” He snarled

Saerlith looks at the floor. “My mind has been keeping me awake. It's the anniversary of Glaerun’s death.”

Morzan felt a stab of guilt. He'd forgotten about that. He waved Saerlith off after that. He didn't want to think about that right now. He refocused on his anger, his seething anger. A rage that boiled beneath the surface and in his blood

He stopped at a room. He could tell this was the room he was looking for. Two guards sat by the door. They blocked the door for Morzan to enter.

He glared at them. About to tell them to move when one spoke up. A haughty look on his face as if he could tell the mighty Morzan what to do.

“The king demanded we are not to let anyone through without his permission.”

Morzan snarled and gave them a withering glare. “Stop me and I have my dragon rip you to shreds.”

The guards paled and stepped inside.

He looked down at the small creature inside. The boy was sitting on the floor against the bed. Beady red eyes looked up at him with fear and unease. Morzan reached into his pack and pulled out a soft brown stuffed rabbit. He held it out to the boy. He was going to figure out how this kid had enraptured Galbatorix one way or another.