Oat

also expect a lot of murtagh posting in a couple weeks when i get the book

@i-dont-actualy-like-oatmeal is my main if you want to hear my random thoughts, dnd or fantasy high ramblings, re blogs and such

this was asking for some edit. original under the cut <3

Be honest

oh my god I haven't read this fucking series in so long ;-;

Okay so I don't know how much of an unpopular opinion this is? But what I don't see a lot is people not pointing out how little we see of Galbatorix.

We're told he's the villain, that's he's a corrupt king, that he's a tyrant. We're told he's got a silver tongue, that's he's very good at convincing people to work for him.

But like, I wish we had seen more of him in the chapters. Ultimately, in the end, I couldn't even form a strong enough of an opinion for him to feel like he deserved it. Also for a major antagonist, he is definitely sidelined. We are only told about his actions, but if he had more screentime (or whatever the equivalent of it is in books) maybe I would have had a stronger opinion on him?

And another one being; I actually fucking hate that Eragon is Brom's son. It was more compelling to me if he was Morzan's son, it gave an internal conflict and an urge to prove that he's not like his father. That he's not going to walk the same path.

so when the twins are like “who the fuck are you and why should we let you in”, Brom just blurts out “this is Murtagh Bromson” bc Eragon has to get his impulsiveness from someone. Everyone is staring at him. Murtaugh bc why is father’s murderer covering for him. Eragon and Sephira just learned the truth like two hours ago. Everyone else is like “you look nothing alike”

then he also claims Eragon as Bromson. Mostly bc I want to do a role reversal where Murtagh is the one to have the parenthood crisis when he and Eragon realize they have the same mom and learn Brom is actually Eragon’s dad

Eragon was just a young

boy, not a soldier

“That’s it?” Shruikan asked. “You’d won the world for yourself and now you want to keep me in this hall?”

“You’ll be the deterring force, standing behind my throne.” Galbatorix said and didn’t look into his eyes.

“And if you’re not here? Can I go out then?”

“No.”

“I’ll get bored.”

“This has to be like it for your own sake, Shruikan. To make sure that no harm comes to you.”

The dragon kept silent. The newly crowned king had no clue how much he understood from that simple sentence. He couldn’t even imagine it: he wasn’t willing to look into himself, to take a look at certain parts of his own heart.

“So be it. But don’t ask me to stay alone with my thoughts! Even your company is better than being alone.”

“I’m not going to be your personal jester. Entertain yourself!”

“Hm, and what if I tear down your throne room? Stone by stone, I’ll find the tiny-gaps in your spells and I’ll let the wind in.”

“Don’t try my patience!” Galbatorix growled.

“Then give someone beside me! Someone with the sole purpose of entertaining me.”

“That’s all that you want? As if I care! Here are the guards: choose from them! You might as well eat them out of their armours like lobsters!"

– – –

The connection was still there in between them. Galbatorix was holding onto the knowledge that he got his hands on, but he couldn’t hide it from Shruikan. Why would he, though? A dragon couldn't do magic like a two-legged, and he was forbidden to share Galbatorix’s inventions with anyone.

Galbatorix was well aware that Shruikan sometimes used a guard with a nicer voice as a reader; the guards, however, weren’t practised in those skills. They were reading slowly, had many misreads and generally, they weren’t too skilled at handling texts that they didn’t understand. And their voices also got raspy very fast. Well. Galbatorix didn’t employ his guards with having their reading skills in mind. He noticed that, though, that not too long after he’d finalised the technique of possessing another’s mind, the guards were more frequent in the library for new books. He also noticed that the reader’s only job from then on was to stand there and turn the pages while the dragon was reading through their eyes.

Galbatorix snorted. Of course, there had been reading dragons back in the Order, too, just as the winged creatures had their own mind-to-mind literature. But as time was passing by, he was having the strengthening belief that Shruikan was the dragon who got the closest to the human’s idea of being a scholar.

How sad that he was learning behaviourism and psychology. Neither fields were tailored to humans – elves in general weren’t interested in life-forms that were slightly under them, even with the unpleasantly similarity between the who races. In the end, Galbatorix could use the dragon’s knowledge only to be even more efficient with intimidating nobles, who dared to question his decisions.

– – –

The audience was over. Galbatorix dismissed everyone with a wave of his hand and watched them from his throne trying to get out as fast as they could. When it happened, he got up with an irritated growl, to leave through the small side-door.

“Stay a little more. I want to talk with you.”

“No. And I’ve told you to not ask me things like this!”

“I wasn’t asking.”

“How you say?!” he snapped and whirled around to look into Shruikan’s eyes.

Instead of icy blue irises, he saw an enormous paw that was getting close to him and that closed around him. And it wasn’t even a front paw, it was the left hind, for Shruikan was using his “hands” to get up and to tear apart the ceiling of the throne room.

“Shruikan! Stop!”

“I’ve told you, haven’t I? I’ll find the gaps in your spells.”

He wasn’t bothered by the stone-rain coming down on him, he crawled out of the building. Galbatorix was unscarred as he was there trapped in the enormous paw; he couldn’t see, only hear the terrified screams and howls of the people, running up and down in the courtyard.

He could only feel it that Shruikan opened his wings and with a forceful beat, that made every windows of the citadel rattle in the frame, he leapt into the air. Entrapped in that palm (or sole?), Galbatorix felt the dragon’s muscles working.

He reached out for magic.

But Shruikan got in front of him and didn’t let him do it.

“You think that you could be an opponent to me? Traitor!”

“I know that you’re stronger,” he nodded. “And I also know that at the same time, you’re weaker than me. You cannot get free from my paw, and my body and my mind could get separated enough without a problem to have no problem with flying while I’m fighting with you. Or…”

“What or?” he asked, grinding his teeth.

“Or you could talk to me! Starting with recalling your day, perhaps.”

“I was kidnapped by a fucking dragon!”

“Mmm, yeah, that truly happened. Do tell, how does that make you feel?”

“Are you kidding me?”

Shruikan’s voice was deep and honest: