#brisinger

[createmydreamblog]

Książkowy wieczór z chłopakiem ❤️ #Brisinger #mechanicznyanioł #ksiazkisąfajne #czytadelkodopoduszki https://www.instagram.com/p/CF-ZvtSpUCX/?igshid=1hzo5h9monkb9

[saracenrunaway]

I would just like to appreciate that my fiancé is explaining the Inheritance Cycle books to me on a level I can understand.

[abookwormsnook]

𝕀'𝕝𝕝 𝕗𝕚𝕘𝕙𝕥 𝕨𝕙𝕖𝕟 𝕟𝕖𝕖𝕕𝕖𝕕, 𝕣𝕖𝕧𝕖𝕝 𝕨𝕙𝕖𝕟 𝕥𝕙𝕖𝕣𝕖'𝕤 𝕒𝕟 𝕠𝕔𝕔𝕒𝕤𝕚𝕠𝕟, 𝕞𝕠𝕦𝕣𝕟 𝕨𝕙𝕖𝕟 𝕥𝕙𝕖𝕣𝕖 𝕚𝕤 𝕘𝕣𝕚𝕖𝕗 𝕒𝕟𝕕 𝕕𝕚𝕖 𝕚𝕗 𝕞𝕪 𝕥𝕚𝕞𝕖 𝕔𝕠𝕞𝕖𝕤...𝔹𝕦𝕥 𝕀 𝕨𝕚𝕝𝕝 𝕟𝕠𝕥 𝕝𝕖𝕥 𝕒𝕟𝕪𝕠𝕟𝕖 𝕦𝕤𝕖 𝕞𝕖 𝕒𝕘𝕒𝕚𝕟𝕤𝕥 𝕞𝕪 𝕨𝕚𝕝𝕝.” @christopher_paolini • • • Hello book dragons!!! So this year in October I get to meet one of my all time favorite authors Christopher Paolini do I think that in itself warrants a reread of the whole series. And if you know me at all that is perfectly fine with me. • • • When you guys are going to meet an author do you bing read their work? Or do you just google a summary and hope for no spoilers? • • • #inheritancecycle #eragon #brisinger #bookcommunity #bookphotography #bookquotes #booksbooksbooks #bookstagram https://www.instagram.com/p/BwXdwJUnpyk/?utm_source=ig_tumblr_share&igshid=1pyc77unfyyo2

[sensitivesiren]

OKAY SO I JUST READ THE ERAGON INHERITANCE SERIES AND THE ENDING FUCKKNG WRECKED ME LIKE SO UPSET THERE WAS SO MUCH MORE I NEEDED TO KNOW

[doasyouwill-blog]

He Came Back to Her in the Dark: An Inheritance Cycle Story (Murtagh x Nasuada)

A/N: Greetings Inheritance Cycle fandom! I have been holding onto this fanfiction for years because I had no idea there was still a place for us Inheritance fans, but here you all are! I ship Murtagh x Nasuada like my body needs oxygen. Here is my take on the aftermath of the four books. The questions I wanted to explore are: How have Nasuada and Murtagh have grown after their respective choices (Nasuada to become High Queen, Murtagh to leave for the north)? Can they have a love story after everything that has happened? Is Galbatorix really gone? Can Alagaesia survive after his reign of terror? ...And more! I hope to release it installments of two chapters per post. If you can, please let me know what you think!

This fic is rated T for some thematic elements. Enjoy and thank you! :)

Chapter 1: Farewell

Five years ago

“You don’t have to go,” she said quietly. The roar of the war’s aftermath faded to a blur as he turned to face her.

“You know I must,” he answered. He avoided her intent gaze, but his jaw was set with determination.

“Look at me,” she said. His gray eyes locked onto hers. Surprising him, Nasuada touched his cheek with gentle fingers. “Murtagh, son of Morzan, must you always wander alone?” At this, he grinned dolefully, “My lady, I am bound to Thorn, I will never be alone again, until death takes one of us. But for the absence of you, it seems that my wyrd is to be torn in two until we meet again.”

Still holding his gaze, Nasuada smiled sadly in return. For a few moments, he said nothing, content to place his hand upon hers. But then the moment, as all moments must, ended with a sigh as he continued.

“Nasuada, do you love the Varden?” he asked. “To my last breath.” “Then we can never be.” “There is always a way.” “Maybe, but even so I can’t stay here. We both know I can’t. I know also, that you will always do the right thing for the good of many.” “Perhaps in this, I could be wrong,” she offered, but he shook his head. “Nasuada, you don’t mean that.” With this he dropped his hand and turned away.

He continued. “I have killed too many in Galbatorix’s name. You know this. I never imagined…there was never any hope…” with this his voice hitched and Nasuada saw that the tears in his eyes mirrored her own, “…that I, we could ever be free of him and that is thanks to you. But Alagaesia needs you. Just as it needs Thorn and me to disappear.”

She knew. Of course, she knew. Still, Nasuada shook her head, loath to confront the truth of his words. She looked out onto the ruins of Uru’baen: men, dwarves, Urgals and elves bloodied and beaten.

Still gazing at the devastation before her, she asked, “What if it is I that needs you?” Nasuada looked back at him. Murtagh’s eyes never left her.

Throwing reservation to the wind, she went on. “I never stopped believing you were good. I never forgot about you.” Despite herself, Nasuada smiled painfully, as if amazed at her foolishness. “I often thought about what I would do if I somehow had a chance to kill you if it meant hurting Galbatorix and saving the Eragon or the Varden. I told myself I would never hesitate. And yet…I could not forget you. When it was you who ripped me from my tent and took me to Galbatorix himself and pressed hot irons to my skin? Did I not hate you then?”

At her words, Murtagh looked down, his eyes drawn taut at the corners, but still she carried on.

“Is it not madness that I do not hate you? Yet it’s not for these things that I do. It’s that you are determined now after all this to deal me the worst blow of all. Am I not clear? Let me tell you then. I love you, Murtagh.”

At this, a bright spark illuminated his countenance, only to be replaced with a passionate disbelief. He shook his head fiercely, looking at the shattered remains of Uru’baen.

“Nasuada, you don’t know what you’re saying. Look around you!” he gestured to the bleak destruction around them. “You’ve survived a horrible ordeal, one that, unquestionably, I had a hand in. You deserve someone whole, someone good…” but she cut him off by placing both hands on his face.

“Believe it,” she said fiercely. “I do not care that you are Morzan’s son, a son of the Forsworn. I do not care about the foul deeds you have done because of your oaths of fealty. I prayed that there was good in you and now you have had a part in saving us from Galbatorix’s tyranny. He made you hurt me and under threat of death or worse, you were kind to me. Your oaths of fealty were broken, your true name was changed and because of that the evil king held sway over you no more. That is enough for me. Why then must you go?”

She searched his face for answer. For a moment, he looked at her, his visage unreadable.

Then he responded, his voice rough and fervent with emotion, “Because Nasuada, daughter of Ajihad, leader of the Varden, I love you, as I have from the moment I saw you through the bars of my prison in Farthen Dur. Even then I admired you for your unshakable integrity, your loyalty, your selflessness. Undeserving wretch that I was, I was relieved to no longer be in your sight. I thought I could forget you too. Once I became a Dragon Rider, I didn’t think of much else. I cared only for me and what was mine. But being bonded with Thorn reminded me, inexplicably, of you. When I convinced Galbatorix to spare you, I was thinking only of myself. But when he forced me to torture you and you looked at me, at me,” He looked at her now with wondering incredulity, “with pity, with sympathy…something changed within me. Now that I understand the value of sacrifice, of selflessness, the kind which I admire so much in you, how then could I stay here and threaten that which you hold most dear?”

Murtagh took both her hands in his own. Nasuada fought for control over her emotions, gritting her teeth against the tears that threatened to stream down her face as she beheld his pleading look. “You would give your life for Alagaesia. To court you openly and for you to accept would be disastrous for Alagaesia and everything you have hoped to achieve.” His eyes filled with pain as held his gaze level with hers so she could not avoid the truth of his words, saying “Galbatorix broke me, Nasuada. I was corrupted by him and by my own folly. I cannot stay here, the stain I have left on Alagaesia and the stain on my conscience is too great. I love you, and because of that, I must leave.” Unable to stand one more moment, Murtagh pressed his lips to both her hands and turned away striding towards Thorn.

Tears falling freely from her eyes now, Nasuada cried out, “Wait!” Murtagh turned back and began to speak, “Nasuada, don’t…” but walking towards him, she threw her arms around his neck and silenced his protestations with a kiss.

He seemed conflicted at first, hesitant even, and then disregarding whatever internal battle that raged within him, gave in, letting Nasuada feel the true scope of his desire for her undercut with intense sorrow. She sensed Thorn’s wing enveloping them, shielding them partially from view. Murtagh pressed his lips to hers desperately, with a roughness that awoke in her an ardent yearning that neither of them were prepared for. Gently, he eased her mouth open with his tongue, deepening the kiss, one hand pressing her body closer to him and the other gripping the back of her neck to hold her face to his.  This was not either of their first kisses, but Nasuada knew she’d never forget it for as long as she lived.

And then suddenly, too suddenly, the kiss ended, his anguished eyes meeting hers briefly before he, in one fluid motion, pressed his lips to her forehead and turned away to mount Thorn. With that, Nasuada watched him, her lips swollen and her heart breaking, become a red dot in the distance, left standing alone in the devastation in the wake of his leave-taking.

Chapter 2: He is Never Coming Back

Present day – Five years after the Fall of Galbatorix

Nasuada stood before a magnificently carved mahogany desk overrun with sheets and tablets littered with figures, the gold crown upon her head glinting from the orange glow of the fireplace. Her proud face, beautiful as it was serious, considered the mound before her. She picked up a single piece of parchment filled with cramped writing from amongst the load, and the further she read, the further a slight frown pulled at the corners of her full lips. The young queen, having finished with the missive, sat in her high-backed chair with a sigh, the tips of her long fingers held to her pursed, plum-colored mouth. The flames danced upon her angled cheek bones, her face unlined save for the slight crease between arched brows as the queen contemplated what she had just read.

The letter was from King Orik, leader of the dwarves, and it contained troubling news. The most recent in a series of unsettling events, a massive cave in had claimed the lives of hundreds of knurla, an entire village lost to the ravages of the mountains. Ulmar, Orik’s newly appointed ambassador, had shared only a few days prior that Tronjheim had seen a drastic spike in violent crimes amongst its citizens, forcing Orik to enact a curfew and bolster the peacekeeping forces. The mood in Tronjheim had grown so desperate that many dwarves called vehemently for Orik to abdicate his kingship, declaring that his rule was cursed.

Seemingly unrelated, but to Nasuada no less unsettling, scrying had become an unreliable mode of communication in the past few months, as an unseen force was somehow disrupting nearly every attempt to communicate through magical means. When Nasuada consulted with the Du Vrangr Grata her magicians maintained that the disruptions could only be attributed to powerful feats of magic. No spellcasters, whether dwarf or human, could account for the arcane distortions. Whether the magician or magicians intended to interrupt scrying between humans and dwarves or the interruptions were indirect results of magical displacement remained to be seen. Though neither situation boded well for Alagaesia, the interruptions themselves did not worry Nasuada as much as the idea that there were several factors magical in origin that no one seemed to have any idea about. She suspected that the interruptions and the rising rate of crime in the dwarf kingdom were related, but she could not imagine how. The implications were staggering, to say the least.

Nasuada dipped her quill into ink and began to write detailed notes on a separate sheet of parchment. The fire grew low in the grate and the castle had long gone silent with sleep before she stopped writing. She attached her notes to the letter from Orik and compared them to data she had collected from Ulmar. She then gathered all the loose leaflets pertaining to the subject and filed them in a leather booklet, securing the pages with a piece of twine.

Though Nasuada acknowledged that no more work could be done tonight and that it was probably best that she get to sleep, the queen found that she was restless. She sat at her desk until the fire had died, curls of smoke rising to the high ceilings of her study. Nasuada grew irritated at a persistent tapping sound until realized with start that it was her own fingernail rapping on the wood. She laughed at herself. The glorious life of the High Queen, Nasuada mused.

She searched within her consciousness for the source of her discontentment. Nasuada knew that to be the Empire’s sovereign ruler after Galbatorix’s fall would be no easy task. It was, however, a task that she believed she was born and bred for. Nasuada refused to entertain the possibility that she could ever shirk responsibility when it called her. Her father, Gokukura bless his spirit, had long taught her the guiding principles of fairness and steely determination. Her mother, the Golden Fields preserve her, instilled in Nasuada an unwavering belief in the inherent strength rooted in moral courage and to feel a unique sense of compassion for all life, whatever form it may reside in.

Unbidden a quiet voice from the deep recesses of her mind asked, But what of love and a future of my own? Normally, she tried not to follow that line of thought since it inevitably led her to remembering her time in Galbatorix’s chambers, but tonight her brooding prevailed. She recalled her despair at finding herself in chains and believing for certain that she failed in her duty as a daughter in allowing her father’s line to cease from existence. Nasuada had sworn to her ancestors that if she somehow survived imprisonment at the hand of Galbatorix and was given a second chance at life, she would not forget her familial obligations. And yet five years have passed since the evil king’s defeat and the prospect of a husband and children was no more a reality as it had been during her whispered oaths in the Hall of the Soothsayer.

Was it because she wished to remain the unchallenged ruler? No, she reasoned. As Nasuada was advised by the elves and the Eldunari, she had passed a law following the elvish tradition that the Empire’s ruling body would not be determined by marriage, but rather left up to the counsel of all rulers in Alagaesia and high ranking citizens of the human empire in order to avoid conflict between and within the kingdoms. So if she married, it would be her and not her husband that would retain sovereignty over the human realm and to her that the oaths of fealty from Surda and Teirm would honor.

So what was she waiting for? Unbidden, the memory of a gray gaze flashed before her eyes and for a moment a sense of vulnerability overcame her.

Barzul, she cursed. Nasuada got up from her seat, the wood scraping against the marble floor. Suddenly craving the outside air, she walked to her inner chambers and pushed aside the white curtains that led to her balcony. Iliria’s nightscape appeared before her like a great glittering behemoth, but she was blind to it.

She would not think of him. She dare not. How could she, High Queen of the Free People of Alagaesia, still care for one whom her subjects by and large long regarded as a traitor? It had been five years since anyone in the kingdom had laid eyes on him and still the names of Murtagh and Thorn were uttered like a curse. It was impossible for her to still care for him. Even though she had given her account on how she escaped slavery to Galbatorix and Murtagh’s role in his defeat, the people’s memories were long, and little could they forget the terror Murtagh and Thorn reigned on them as a servant of the Empire.

Nasuada had pledged to serve the greater good above all else, and this…this would be one of many sacrifices that she would gladly give to this cause. The steady progress Alagaesia made in the few years succeeding Galbatorix’s reign gave her hope and already Nasuada could see that the age of darkness was slowly being washed away. Even so, harmony after warfare on such a massive scale was delicate at best, and Nasuada knew that her place was critical in ushering in a new era beyond the ancient king’s tyranny.  

Besides, Nasuada reminded herself with a note of bitterness, he is never coming back.

With that last thought punctuating her being, she withdrew from the night air, blew out the candles illuminating the room and retreated into her inner chambers to sleep.

------------

He gave her fingers a gentle squeeze, then put his arm around her shoulders and drew her close. She resisted for a moment, then relaxed into his embrace and laid her head on his chest as she continued to cry, her quiet sobs echoing in the bare stone room.

Some minutes later, she felt him move beneath her as he said, “I’ll find a way to free you, I swear. It’s too late for Thorn and me. But not for you. As long as you don’t pledge fealty to Galbatorix, there’s still a chance I can spirit you out of Uru’baen.”

She looked up at him and decided he meant what he said. “How?” she whispered.

“I haven’t the slightest idea,” he admitted with a roguish smile. “But I will. Whatever it takes. You have to promise me, though, that you won’t give up—not until I’ve tried. Agreed?”

“My lady, are you well?” inquired a voice, interrupting her reverie.

Nasuada blinked forcefully, distracted by the vitality of the memory.

“Yes, Jormunder, thank you. Merely a speck of dust irritating my eye. How silly that so small thing could trouble a person!” she replied quickly. Jormunder, after protecting and serving her for years, and her father years before that, remained unconvinced. However, he chose to let her be for the moment. Casting her one more concerned glance, Jormunder took his leave. Elva however, as soon as he was gone, spoke in her unsettling voice. “He’s safe you know. Far away, and lonely. But safe.” Nasuada despised the fact that the girl could sense her pain, know exactly what it was about, and even worse have the words to ease her suffering. Before Elva, she oftentimes felt stripped bare, examined and found wanting. Sensing her mortified fury, Elva laughed derisively. “Don’t worry, Nasuada, your secret is safe with me. Also, it helps that I was there when Murtagh gave us any hope of defeating Galbatorix. I well know that he is not such a traitor as the people believe. Or is he?”

Nasuada’s dislike of the girl grew. “That’s enough Elva.” “As you wish, Your Majesty.”

Nasuada went throughout the day with her characteristic efficiency, whether it was advising boundary disputes, overseeing the distribution of additional spellcasters as needed to outer cities or meeting with the leader of a contingent of Urgals that wished to pass through Ilirea to the coast beyond.

Before she knew it, night had fallen again and Nasuada found herself staring into the darkness outside her window. Farica helped her out of her outer dress and Nasuada donned a slightly sheer, deep crimson robe marked with translucent black and gold flowers over her ivory night shift, securing it to her body by tying it at the waist. Farica then pulled Nasuada’s long black hair into braid, wrapping it several times around her head.

“Is there anything else I can do for you, Nasuada?” inquired Farica. “No, thank you, Farica,” Nasuada said, at which the handmaiden gave her a light pat on the shoulder and bid her good night.

Nasuada walked with bare feet to her study, facing first the enormous map of Alagaesia that occupied nearly the entire east wall. She examined it with the tips of her fingers pressed together until the candlestick burned very low and the stars had unsheathed themselves fully in the night sky. Replacing the candle, Nasuada turned back to the mound of documents awaiting her review with a sigh. She had taken out a quill to sign one when a rumble caused her hand to slip, marring the paper with splattered ink. When a second rumble occurred, Nasuada immediately spun towards her open balcony, unsheathing her jeweled dagger and holding it aloft. Breathing deeply, she approached the outside, the night air caressing her bare ankles and sending shivers up her spine. She looked around for the trample of her Nighthawks, but the hall outside her chamber was still. She cursed. Gathering her courage, Nasuada proceeded over the dais and prepared to stab whatever stood before her, but stopped in shock as an enormous winged creature loomed over her.

“Nasuada,” said a man’s voice to her right and she whirled, ready to attack. The man remained swathed in darkness. “Show yourself!” she demanded and then gasped as he stepped into the glow of the lamplight.

It was Murtagh.

[lowkeylokidagain13]

We must proceed with caution.” “How else were you planning to proceed? With blaring trumpets and shouting heralds? Really.

Angela the Herbalist

[yer-a-wizard-spooky-jim-blog]

Book/Series Recommendations

-The Inheritance Cycle: This book series contains four novels, starting with Eragon. It is about a boy who becomes the first Dragon Rider in a century, and the best chance Alagaesia has of defeating their tyrant. This fantasy book takes the reader on a journey through an intricate world, exploring philosophy. Though intimidating (each 500-800 pages) at first glance, the reading is smooth and nearly effortless. This may be my favorite series of all time, so I highly recommend checking out these great works by Christopher Paolini.

-The Ranger’s Apprentice: This series is an easy read build around a fantasy world anyone can fall in love with. The core series has eight books, over which I became personally attached to the characters Halt and Will, loving them as if they were part of the real world. The series is humorous, heartbreaking, and full of adventure. If it sounds like it may be your speed, go for it and check out this series by John Flanagan. 

-Three Dark Crowns: This book is the newest addition to my collection, and is the first book in an unfinished series. It is set in a world where three sisters must fight each other to the death to earn the crown when they come of age. The book is not what I was expecting, but I loved it nevertheless. It forces you to sympathize with each of the girls, when you know only one can survive. The ending was incredible, and did not fall into the cliche trap I predicted for it. I know I’m personally very excited for the work that is yet to come from Kendare Blake. 

[pikachu-potter]

Inheritance cycle reboot

I’ve just read that over the near decade there has been very little information siad about the inheritance cyle and getting the reboot it deserves after the first film released in 2006 apparently flopped but according to the Inheritance cycle’s website, shurtugal, they are not giving up hope! There’s a full arcitcle discussing it here along with a petetion to sign. Give it a read if you are a fan of the series, or if you’re jsut a fan of dragons, magic, and a wonderfully created world with equally wonderful charactersand story.