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"Kill Nasuada"
Two words jerked Murtagh back to reality as he stood in the throne room, exhausted after another mission and another session of torture for his failure.
"NO!" He cried, the word leaving his mouth suddenly and without his permission.
"No?" The king replied, his voice dangerously quiet "you think to defy me in my own throne room. You think to issue me orders now?"
Murtagh remained silent. "Well? Speak up now boy"
"I only meant to suggest she could be...useful"
Galbatorix considered his answer. "Useful. How so?"
Murtagh thought fast. He'd have to play this perfectly. Nasuada would hate him forever, even more than she already did, but at least she'd be alive to do so.
"The leader of the Varden is a capable commander. She is clever, brave, a master strategist. She has united the races under one banner, drawn men, dwarves, urgals, even elves to her cause. Her people are fiercely devoted to her"
"And are you?" Lord Barst jeered.
The question was not from the king, so it could be safely ignored. Murtagh continued, careful to keep his tone neutral and his face expressionless.
"Think what a blow it would be to the Varden's morale if she could be captured and brought to your--our cause"
"Perhaps"
Galbatorox grinned, a sly smile that never boded anything well for anyone near him. "Lord Barst asked you a question Murtagh. I think it a topic worth exploring. I've rarely heard you speak with such passion."
The lords and ladies gathered in the hall tittered among themselves. He couldn't lie. Galbatorix could read his every thought, could tear him open and lay his soul bare any time he wished to. He affected an air of careful nonchalance, and decided perhaps a half-truth was necessary.
"I admire her capabilities. I'll admit I find her form pleasing. What of it? I care nothing for her"
Murtagh prayed silently to any God that might be listening that Galbatorix would not require him to swear this in the ancient language. He kept his mind blank, his eyes downcast.
"I could capture her. If it would please your majesty"
The king considered this for a long moment. "Very well"
Murtagh released a breath he hasn't known he was holding, but his relief was short-lived.
"I have neglected your training in the subtle art of persuasion. This will provide an excellent opportunity"
He knew in that moment that Galbatorix saw right through him. As always, he had lost. This would be another form of torture, another punishment, another test of his loyalty. His body bore scars inside and out from the king's persusion. He would put that same pain, those same scars onto Nasuada. He would do what he had to, whatever he had to do to save her life.
"It should be easy for you. As you care nothing for her"
Again, the court whispered. Murtagh thought he heard a chuckle from Lord Barst. He said nothing.
"If you find the prospect distasteful, I am sure there are many lords who would be happy to help me convert the prisoner. Especially one with a form so pleasing"
"I'll do it" Murtagh answered quickly, hating the king, the court and himself most of all. He would be the one to hurt her. But he knew, looking around the room that he was still the best choice. He would not harm her in ways that others would, he would not impugn her honor. He would carry out Galbatorixes commands as he always did; coldly, mechanically and fully against his will.
"Go. Fetch her tonight. Bring her to me uninjured. Lock her in the hall of the Soothsayer. You and I will plan together the best way to convince her to serve the Empire"
Not trusting himself to speak, Murtagh bowed, as much to hide his face as to show deference.
It was only when he was alone riding Thorn, miles away from the empire, and hidden in the dark, that he let the tears fall.