((Felt like sharing this for no particular reason but the word count for this chapter is 5,726!))

Blue shifted in his seat, impatient as Oromis slowly recounted the conversation from before to the newcomers, Draco and GB affectionately leaning on one another as they listened intently.

He finally perked up eagerly as Oromis turned to face Eragon, starting to address the human as he reached the point he left off.
"When Morzan betrayed the Riders to Galbatorix and the Forsworn killed Saphira, Brom's dragon, Brom realized the true nature of Morzan's character. As strong as Brom's affection for Morzan had been, it was like a candle before an inferno compared to the hatred that replaced it. Brom swore to thwart Morzan however and wherever he could, to undo his accomplishments and reduce his ambitions to bitter regrets. I cautioned Brom against a path so full of hate and violence, but he was mad with grief from the death of Saphira, and he would not listen to me."

Blue winced in understanding, Eragon glancing out the window to his Saphira, the blue dragon meeting his gaze before the elf continued.
"In the decades that followed, Brom's hatred never weakened, nor did he falter in all his efforts to depose Galbatorix, kill the Forsworn, and, above all else, to repay Morzan the hurts he had suffered. Brom was persistence embodied, his name a nightmare for the Forsworn and a beacon of hope for those who still had the spirit to resist the Empire."

Their teacher stared thoughtfully at the horizon before sipping more wine and going on.
"I am rather proud of what he achieved on his own without the aid of his dragon. It is always heartening for a teacher to see one of his students excel, however it might be.... But I digress. It so happened, then, that some twenty years ago, the Varden began to receive reports from their spies within the Empire about the activities of a mysterious woman known only as the Black Hand."
"My mother." Eragon whispered wondrously.

"Your mother and Murtagh's." Oromis added.
"At first the Varden knew nothing about her, save that she was extremely dangerous and that she was loyal to the Empire. In time, and after a great deal of bloodshed, it became apparent that she served Morzan, and Morzan alone, and that he had come to depend upon her to carry out his will throughout the Empire. Upon learning of this, Brom set out to kill the Black Hand and so strike at Morzan. Since the Varden could not predict where your mother might appear next, Brom travelled to Morzan's castle and spied upon it until he was able to devise a means of infiltrating the hold."

"Where was Morzan's castle?" Eragon queried, leaning forward. Blue scooted his chair as Oromis corrected.
"Is, not was; the castle still stands. Galbatorix uses it for himself now. It is situated among the foothills of the Spine, near the northwestern shore of Leona Lake, hidden well away from the rest of the land."

Understanding this, Eragon nodded, moving on.
"Jeod told me that Brom snuck into the castle by pretending to be one of the servants."
"He did, but it was no easy task." Oromis admitted.

"Morzan had impregnated his fortress with hundreds of spells designed to protect him from his enemies. He also forced everyone who served him to swear oaths of fealty, and often with their true names. However, after much experimentation, Brom managed to find a flaw in Mozan's wards that allowed him to procure as a gardener on his estate, and it was in that guise that he first met your mother."

Studying his hands, Eragon spoke in a dull tone. "And then he seduced her to hurt Morzan, I suppose."
"Not at all." Oromis faintly shook his head, Blue glancing down at the human's ring with a hint of confusion as the elf continued.

"That may have been his intention to begin with, but then something happened that neither he nor your mother anticipated: they fell in love. Whatever affection your mother once had for Morzan had vanished by then, expunged by his cruel treatment of her and their newborn child, Murtagh. I do not know the exact sequence of events, but at some point Brom revealed his true identity to your mother. Instead of betraying him, she began to supply the Varden with information about Galbatorix, Morzan, and the rest of the Empire."

"What about her oaths?" Blue piped up.
"Yes, didn't Morzan have her swear oaths of fealty in the ancient language?" Eragon added.
Oromis smiled.

"She could because Morzan allowed her somewhat more freedom than his other servants so that she could use her own ingenuity and initiative while carrying out his orders. In his arrogance, Morzan believed that her love for him would ensure her loyalty better than any oath. Also, she was not the same woman who bound herself to Morzan; becoming a mother and meeting Brom altered her character to such a degree that her true name changed, which released her from her previous commitments. If Morzan had been more careful- if, for example, he had cast a spell that would alert if ever she failed to abide by her promises- he would have known the moment he lost control over her. But that was always a shortcoming of Morzan's; he would devise a cunning spell, but then it would fail because, in his impatience, he overlooked some crucial detail."

Now frowning, Eragon asked. "Why didn't my mother leave Morzan once she had the chance?"
"After all she had done in Morzan's name, she felt it was her duty to help the Varden." Oromis explained.
"But more importantly, she could not bring herself to abandon Murtagh to his father."

"Couldn't she have taken him with her?" Eragon pointed out.
"If it had been within her power, I am sure she would have. Morzan realized that the child gave him a vast amount of control over your mother. He forced her to surrender Murtagh to a wet nurse and only allowed her to visit him at infrequent intervals."

"That's abominable!" Blue blurted out, mortified.
"Indeed it was." Oromis agreed solemnly, sipping his drink.
"But in spite of that, Selena took advantage of those permissions to also visit Brom."

That being said, Oromis quietly glanced outside, staring at a pair of swallows as they fluttered around each other beyond the window.

A minute later he continued, eyes still following the birds. "Not even she could anticipate where Morzan would send her next, nor when she could return to his castle. Therefore, Brom had to remain on Morzan's estate for extended lengths of time if he wished to see her. For nigh on three years, Brom served as one of Morzan's gardeners. Now and then, he would slip away to send a message to the Varden or to communicate with his spies throughout the Empire, but other than that, he did not leave the castle grounds."

"Three years! Wasn't he afraid that Morzan might see him and recognize him?" Eragon exclaimed. Oromis slowly met his gaze.
"Brom was most adept at disguising himself, and it had been many years since he and Morzan had last stood face to face."

"Ah." The human replied simply, deigning to study his own crystal goblet.
"..Then what happened?"
Blue gripped his cup in anticipation as Oromis spoke.
"Then one of Brom's agents in Teirm made contact with a young scholar by the name of Jeod who wished to join the Varden and who claimed to have discovered evidence of a hitherto-secret tunnel that led into the elf-built portion of the castle in Urû'baen. Brom rightly felt that Jeod's discovery was too important to ignore, so he packed his bags, made his excuses to his fellow servants, and then departed for Teirm with all possible haste."

"What of my mother?" Eragon impulsively quested.
"She had left a month before on another of Morzan's missions."
This left the human to puzzle over this new knowledge.

"So then... Brom met with Jeod, and once he was convinced the tunnel was real, he arranged for one of the Varden to attempt to steal the three dragon eggs Galbatorix was holding in Urû'baen." He worked out.

It was at this that Oromis's mood darkened.
"Unfortunately, for reasons that have never become entirely clear, the man they selected for the task, a certain Hefring of Furnost, succeeded in filching only one egg- Saphira's- from Galbatorix's treasury, and once he had possession of it, he fled from both the Varden and Galbatorix's servants. Because of his betrayal, Brom had to spend the next seven months chasing Hefring back and forth across the land in a desperate attempt to recapture Saphira."

"And during that time, my mother traveled in secret to Carvahall, where she gave birth to me five months later?" Eragon checked.

The teacher nodded. "You were conceived just before your mother set forth upon her last mission. As a result, Brom knew nothing of her condition while he was pursuing Hefring and Saphira's egg.... When Brom and Morzan finally confronted each other in Gil'ead, Morzan asked Brom whether he had been responsible for the disappearance of his Black Hand. It is understandable that Morzan would suspect Brom's involvement, since Brom had arranged the deaths of several of the Forsworn. Brom, of course, immediately concluded that something terrible had befallen your mother. He later told me it was that belief which gave him the strength and fortitude he needed to kill Morzan and his dragon. Once they were dead, Brom took Saphira's egg from Morzan's corpse- for Morzan had already located Hefring and seized the egg from him- and then Brom left the city, pausing only long enough to hide Saphira where he knew the Varden would eventually find her."

"So that's why Jeod thought Brom died in Gil'ead." Eragon realized. Oromis nodded.
"Stricken by fear, Brom dared not wait for his companions. Even if your mother was alive and well, Brom worried that Galbatorix would decide to make Selena his own Black Hand and that she would never again have the chance to escape her service to the Empire."

Blue, the silent attendant to the conversation as he was, noted the unshed tears glistening in the boy's eyes. He glanced between the elf and human before the elder continued.

"From Gil'ead, Brom rode straight to Morzan's estate, stopping only to sleep. For all his speed, however, he was still too slow. When he reached the castle, he discovered that your mother had returned a fortnight prior, sick and weary from her mysterious journey. Morzan's healers tried to save her, but in spite of their efforts, she had passed into the void just hours before Brom arrived at the castle."

The skeleton impulsively gasped as Eragon croaked. "He never saw her again?"
"Never again." Oromis confirmed, hardened features gentling.

"Losing her was, I think, almost as difficult for Brom as losing his dragon, and it quenched much of the fire in his soul. He did not give up, though, nor did he go mad as he had for a time when the Forsworn slew Saphira's namesake. Instead, he decided to discover the reason for your mother's death and to punish those who were responsible if he could. He questioned Morzan's healers and forced them to describe your mother's ailments. From what they said, and also from gossip he heard among the servants on the estate, Brom guessed the truth about your mother's pregnancy. Possessed of that hope, he rode to the one place he knew to look: your mother's home in Carvahall. And there he found you in the care of your aunt and uncle."

The elf paused then, giving Eragon a moment to process before he went on.
"Brom did not stay in Carvahall, however. As soon as he assured himself that no one in Carvahall knew your mother had been the Black Hand and that you were in no imminent danger, Brom returned in secret to Farthen Dûr, where he revealed himself to Deynor, who was the leader of the Varden at that time. Deynor was astounded to see him, for until that moment, everyone had believed that Brom had perished in Gil'ead. Brom convinced Deynor to keep his presence a secret from all but a select few, and then-"

Eragon interrupted by lifting a finger in question.
"But why? Why pretend to be dead?"
"Brom wanted to live long enough to help instruct the new Rider, and he knew the only way he could avoid being assassinated in retaliation for killing Morzan would be if Galbatorix believed he was already dead and buried. Also, Brom hoped to avoid attracting unwarranted attention to Carvahall. He intended to settle there in order to be close to you, as indeed he did, but he was determined that the Empire should not learn of your existence as a result." Oromis explained, patient as ever.

"While in Farthen Dûr, Brom helped negotiate the agreement with Queen Islanzadí over how the elves and the humans would share custody of the egg and how the new Rider would be trained, if and when the egg should hatch. Then Brom accompanied Arya as she carried the egg from Farthen Dûr to Ellesméra. When he arrived, he told Glaedr and me what I have now told you, so that the truth about your parentage would not be forgotten if he should die. That was the last time I ever saw him. From here, Brom returned to Carvahall, where he introduced himself as a bard and storyteller. What happened thereafter, you know better than I."

Finally, the room went quiet, not a voice daring to speak as everyone slowly processed what had been told.
Then, Eragon posed a question.
"And Brom really is my father, not Morzan? I mean, if my mother was Morzan's consort, then..." He stopped, face flushing.

"You are your father's son, and your father is Brom." Oromis assured him. "Of that there is no doubt."
"No doubt whatsoever?"
"None."

At that, the human gripped his armrests and a faint smile cracked open his face, a hint of hysteria passing over briefly before he exhaled sharply, the grin widening.
"I think I understand why-" He gasped- "why Brom didn't say anything about this before I found Saphira's egg, but why didn't he tell me afterward? And why did he swear you and Saphira to such secrecy?" The smile began to fall.
"... Didn't he want to claim me as his son? Was he ashamed of me?"

"I cannot pretend to know the reasons for everything Brom did, Eragon. However, of this much I am confident: Brom wanted nothing more than to name you his son and to raise you, but he dared not reveal that you were related, lest the Empire should find out and try to hurt him through you. His prudence was warranted too. Look how Galbatorix strove to capture your cousin so that he could use Roran to force you to surrender."

"Brom could have told my uncle." The human argued. "Garrow wouldn't have betrayed Brom to the Empire."
"Think, Eragon. If you had been living with Brom, and if word of Brom's survival had reached the ears of Galbatorix's spies, you both would have had to flee Carvahall for fear of your lives. By keeping the truth hidden from you, Brom hoped to protect you from those dangers."

"He didn't succeed. We had to flee Carvahall anyway."
"Yes." The elf agreed. "Brom's mistake, as it were, although I judge it has yielded more good than ill, was that he could not bear to separate himself entirely from you. If he had had the strength to refrain from returning to Carvahall, you never would have found Saphira's egg, the Ra'zac would not have killed your uncle, and many things that are, would not be. He could not cut you out of his heart, though."

The boy shook as his jaw visibly tightened. "And after he learned Saphira had hatched for me?"
At this, Oromis paused.
"I am not sure, Eragon. It may have been that Brom was still trying to protect you from his enemies, and he did not tell you for the same reason he did not bring you to the Varden straightaway: because it would have been more than you were ready for. Perhaps he was planning to tell you just before you went to the Varden. If I had to guess, though, I would guess that Brom held his tongue not because he was ashamed of you but because he had become accustomed to living with secrets and was loath to part with them. And because- and this is no more than speculation- because he was uncertain how you might react to his revelation. By your own account, you were not that well acquainted with Brom before you left Carvahall with him. It is quite possible he was afraid you might hate him if he told you he was your father."

"Hate him?" Eragon echoed. "I wouldn't have hated him. Although... I might not have believed him."
"And would you have trusted him after such a revelation?"
At this, the human nervously bit the inside of his cheek, that alone being all the answer that was needed.

Oromis went on. "Brom did the best he could in what were incredibly trying circumstances. Before all else, it was his responsibility to keep the two of you alive and to teach and advise you, Eragon, so that you would not use your power for selfish means, as Galbatorix had done. In that, Brom acquitted himself with distinction. He may not have been the father you wished him to be, but he gave you as great an inheritance as any son has ever had."

"It was no more than he would have done for whoever became the new Rider." Eragon argued.
"That doesn't make it any less." Blue spoke up, the first time in a while as he pet the silent Beast, who was staring with numerous damp eyes.

"Indeed, it does not diminish its value." Oromis agreed. "But you are also mistaken; Brom did more for you than he would have for anyone else. You need only think of how he sacrificed himself to save your life to know the truth in that."

The human pondered this as he idly traced the edge of the table, formulating a response.
It came as another question.
"And it really was an accident that Arya sent Saphira to me?"
"It was. But it was not entirely a coincidence. Instead of transporting the egg to the father, Arya made it appear before the son."
"How could that be if she had no knowledge of me?"

At this, Oromis gabe an honest shrug. "Despite thousands of years of study, we still cannot predict or explain all of the effects of magic."
Frowning slightly, Eragon focused on picking at the ridge on the table, lost in thought. Blue watched almost despondently, only able to distantly relate to the boy's troubles.

Once upon a time, he had no idea what became of his own father, had no memory of him, until he came across a forgotten basement and notes that flooded his mind with memories previously locked away, one by one as he read.
The event was only a distant memory, yet he found himself thinking of it now, half reminiscing and half in the present.

"My parents.. were they ever married?" Eragon finally asked.
"I know why you ask, Eragon, and I do not know if my answer will satisfy you. Marriage is not an elvish custom, and the subtleties of it often escape me. No one joined Brom's and Selena's hands in marriage, but I know that they considered themselves to be husband and wife. If you are wise, you will not worry that others of your race may call you a bastard but rather be content to know that you are your parents' child and that they both gave their lives so that you might live."

There was a lengthy pause as Eragon picked at the table and pondered things, Blue sipping from his goblet and studying the way the light refracted within its fractals.
"Could I tell Nasuada?" Eragon asked.

Oromis spread his fingers, palms up. "Tell whomever you wish; the secret is now yours to do with as you please. I doubt you will be in any more danger if the whole world knew you were Brom's heir."

Brows furrowed, Eragon pointed out. "Murtagh, he believes we are full brothers. He told me so in the ancient language."
"And I am sure Galbatorix does as well. It was the human Twins who figured out that Murtagh's mother and your mother were one and the same person, and this they conveyed to the king. But they could not have informed him of Brom's involvement, for there was no one among the Varden who was privy to that information."

Looking up as the pair of swallows from earlier flew by again, Eragon dared to grin.
"Why do you smile?" Oromis then asked.
After a moment, the boy faintly shrugged.
"I'm not sure that you would understand." He murmured.
Resting his hands in his lap, Oromis prompted.
"I might not; that is true. But then, you cannot know for certain unless you try to explain."

He stared at the table awhile, considering how to explain his now strange thoughts.
"When I was younger, before..." He hesitated, glancing at Blue, who nodded, tearing his own gaze from the gleaming ring who's light seemed invisible to all the others except Beast, the goat-plant staring as the faint blue glinted off his screen face.

"Before all of this-" Eragon waved at the world around vaguely- "I used to amuse myself by imagining that, because of her great wit and beauty, my mother had been taken in among the courts of Galbatorix's nobles. I imagined that she had traveled from city to city and supped with the earls and ladies in their halls and that... well, she had fallen desperately in love with a rich and powerful man, but for some reason, she was forced to hide me from him, so she would return and tell me who I was and that she had never wanted to leave me behind."

"Well isn't that ironic." Beast spoke up for the first time, a tail lashing in mild amusement.
"That's rude." Blue chastised him quietly, Oromis allowing the interruption to pass before adding his own thoughts.
"That is not so different from what happened."

"No, it isn't, but... I imagined that my mother and my father were people of importance and I was someone of importance as well. Fate gave me what I wanted, but the truth of it is not as grand or as happy as I thought it would be.... I was smiling at my own ignorance, I suppose, and also at the unlikeliness of everything that has befallen me."

Blue finally gave his own smile at that thought. "It's always the simplest of ideas and childish thoughts that hide the most unexpected truths, isn't it? As foolish as a child can be, they so often have their own wisdoms. It's a consequence of being so fresh to the world, I suppose."
"Perhaps." Eragon murmured under his breath before he raised the question.
"Was my mother a good person?"

"I could not say, Eragon. The events of her life were complicated. It would be foolish and arrogant of me to presume to pass judgement on one I know so little of."
"But I need to know!" The boy cried, hands tightening around each other as his fingers softly rasped against his calloused knuckles.

"When I asked Brom if he had known her, he said that she was proud and dignified and that she always helped the poor and those less fortunate than her. How could she, though? How could she be that person and also the Black Hand? Jeod told me stories about some of the things- horrible, terrible things- she did while she was in Morzan's service.... Was she evil, then? Did she not care if Galbatorix ruled or not? Why did she go with Morzan in the first place?"

Oromis hesitated upon this before Blue frowned and spoke.
"Do you remember the monsters we fought at Farthen Dûr and the Burning Plains, Eragon?"
Distracted, he blinked at him. "Yes, why?"

Looking to the side for a moment, Blue noticed Oromis and Beast watching him.
"Do you remember who was targeting Red specifically- at least at Farthen Dûr? I promise I have a point."

Hesitating, Eragon's eyes glazed over as he thought.
"..Yes, he looked rather uncannily like you."
"Well that's because he's a similar variant to myself, being a Swap that is. But the difference between me and him- Yandereberry being his exact title- is that he fell under the influence of a corruptive sort of love. Love itself is no.. pure thing, Eragon. It can be just as wicked as hate, and in fact is very similar to hatred. Just as binding, if not even more so. It is because of love he lost his mind. He is lost to his love, if it can even be called that anymore. I think- though this is only speculation on my part- that your mother fell violently in love and was perhaps somewhat like Yandere for a time. That being willing to enact any sort of violence in the name of the one she loves, that being Morzan."

Taking a deep breath, Blue stared into his glass for a minute, gathering himself.
"I can't say I know how that sort of violent, obsessive love begins, nor is it easy to break it off. I just know that it warps a person into something else entirely."
"And you think it has the capacity to change a good person into an unrecognizable.. well, beast." Eragon smiled apologetically at Beast, who waved it off dismissively.

Blue looked away, wincing at what he was about to say.
"Of course I do.... I don't bring this up lightly, but- and I do ask that this isn't spoken to anyone else outside of this room unless it is absolutely necessary- but Yandere isn't exactly.. he's not necessarily an AU of his own. Not traditionally."
"How do you mean?" Eragon asked, puzzled.

"...There are others that ARE their own alternates, residing under their own branches, being Outers or Fells and whatnot, but Yandere is still the first of them and." He exhaled sharply.
"He's a.. timeline. Of me."
At this both human and goat-plant blinked.

"Like Dust, Killer and Horror are to each other?" He questioned, understanding the difference.
Blue silently nodded, crystal goblet gripped tight in his gloved hands.
"Please. Do not think less of me."

"No, I... I think I somewhat understand? There is a timeline where you fell victim to this violent obsession and while my mother was able to escape this fate, this timeline of you was unable to?"

"Or has yet to." Blue added a bit defensively.
"That too... but how does this happen?" Eragon questioned, confused.
"I.. I don't know." Blue admitted. "Knowing that it's simply what happened to me in another version of events and not some alternate reality with someone similar, it's.. I've always been afraid of falling in love. I was afraid that I would fall like Yandere had ever since I found out his true identity as a timeline and not AU. But hearing the story of your mother.. sort of gives me hope. That fate can be avoided for me, and perhaps Yandere can even be rehabilitated as well. I know it's a rather optimistic view, but there's nothing wrong with trying when there's a chance!"

The human dared to shoot him a half-smile, familiar with the other's constant hopeful ideals.
"I suppose you're right." He conceded, before returning to the puzzled frown.
"I still don't know what my mother was like beyond that.... How could she fall to a place where she enjoyed what she did as the Black Hand. That is what Jeod had said of her, at least."

"Well he didn't know her." Blue retorted. "He knew stories. Rumors. And we all know how rumors are exaggerated. Why would you believe someone who only knew stories and exaggerations over someone who knew her not just personally, but intimately? Brom told you what he considered important, so why not hold onto that knowledge?"

Eragon stared hard at Blue, thinking deeply before Oromis added his thoughts.
"If that alone does not quell your doubts, Eragon, then remember that whatever crimes she may have committed while acting as the Hand of Morzan, ultimately your mother sided with the Varden and went to extraordinary lengths to protect you. Knowing that, you should not torment yourself further about the nature of her character."

After a little while, the sunlight beginning to slant in through the trees before Eragon asked another question.
"The first time we visited Tronjheim, Angela told me that it was Brom's wyrd to fail at everything he attempted, except for killing Morzan."

"One might think that." Oromis pointed out. "Another might conclude that Brom achieved many great and difficult things. It depends on how you choose to view the world. The words of fortunetellers are rarely easy to decipher. It has been my experience that their predictions are never conducive to peace of mind. If you wish to be happy, Eragon, think not of what is to come nor of that which you have no control over but rather of the now and of that which you are able to change."

Glancing at the now disquieted Blue, Eragon fiddled with his goblet before he asked yet another question, skeleton unable to resist listening in.
"Blagden. He knows about Brom as well, doesn't he?" He spoke of the ever sassy white raven.

Raising an eyebrow, Oromis queried. "Does he? I never spoke of it to him. He is a fickle creature and not to be relied upon."
"Well, the day we left for the Burning Plains, he recited a riddle to me.... I can't remember every line, but it was something about one of two being one, while one might be two. I think-" He cut off at the unexpectedly bright flash of yellow from Blue's usually whitish silver-blue eyelights.

"While two may share two,
and one of two is certainly one,
one might be two." He recited exactly, then frowned. "I know I wasn't awake at the time and you told me after the fact, but I even remember it in his voice."
"...Huh." Eragon paused, then looked up at their teacher. "That is what he said, though."

After regarding Blue, Oromis spoke.
"Blagden was here in Ellesméra when Brom told me about you. I would not be surprised if that sharp-beaked thief happened to be perched in a nearby tree during our conversation. Eavesdropping is an unfortunate habit of his. It might also be that his riddle was the result of one of his sporadic fits of foresight."

Moments later, Glaedr shifted in place, drawing everyone's attention before Oromis stood. "I have a soup that needs tending simmering on the stove, but please, do not bestir yourselves. I will bring it to you when it is ready."

At that, he strode to the previously unnoticed pot, lifting the lid and stirring.
Seconds later the smell hit them, warm and enticing.
Blue finally let his shoulders drop, sighing.
"Are you alright?" Eragon quietly asked him.

"It has always been a bit of a sensitive subject, knowing what Yandere is to me." He quietly explained.
"I know it would come out eventually to someone close to me, especially given that it was Ink who initially brought it up without considering how much of a revelation that would be- but. It's? Hard. When I'm thinking about it, that is. Fortunately- or unfortunately, depending on how you look at it- I'm very good at putting thoughts out of my mind, even when thrust into my face."

"I can't imagine you turning so violent, to be honest." Eragon admitted. "You've always been such a pacifist."
Blue gave him a strained smile.
"Can you see why it's so important now?"
The human paused, realizing.
"I.. didn't know that was the reason."

Blue shrugged, sipping from the glass. "It's part of it, yes. There's a multitude of reasons for my optimism, some of which are purely to distance myself from him. Can't let my brother catch on that Yandere is more than just strangely similar to myself."
"He would react poorly?"

"Likely, yes." Blue nodded with a slight scowl. "I love him, but ever since he remembered our first experience with the Multiverse he's developed such an unreasonable phobia of it and my exposure to it. He's become a very bad Judge, and.." He sighed, dragging a gloved hand over his face. "I'm disappointed in him, honestly. How far he's fallen. I don't know why I'm ranting like this. It's unbecoming."

Eragon patted his shoulder kindly. "I imagine it's because you care, of course."
Leaning into his hand, Blue set his elbow on the table, other hand cradling the goblet. "Of course I do, how can I not? Brothers watch out for brothers."
He paused when he felt the tension in the boy's arm.

Glancing over, Blue noted the unreadable look on Eragon's face.
"Do you view Murtagh as a brother?" He asked.
"No." Eragon responded a little too quickly. "We only share a mother. We are half brothers at most."
"You didn't forget how you don't have to tie yourself to someone because of blood?"

Eragon pulled back, grimacing. "I don't know how else to phrase this, but I was raised with the knowledge that blood matters more than all else. How does one just.. throw that away?"

Blue thought for a long moment on the concept, daring to sigh.
"I don't know, Eragon. Family and love are both highly complex subjects that evade simple answers. I can only give advice on what to do. In the end, such things are really up to each and every individual and how they feel- so long as other parties respect such decisions. Does that ease your heart any, human?"

Tracing the rim of his glass, Eragon eventually replied.
"I don't know."