Day 1
Lord Deorwine of Deorwang Province
Deorwyn is missing.
Lord Deorwine tasted metallic fear in his mouth, like fresh blood, as his treacherous mind hissed those words in the back of his mind.
Grima, the King's new counselor, had been the one to tell him. With sympathy dripping like poison from every word, and what stank of feigned outrage and sly mockery, he had been the one to tell Deorwine that his lands, his province of Deorwang, the wild country less than a league from Fangorn, lay burned by Orc hands.
That his oldest son, twelve-year-old Eothain, was wounded, and that only the luck of the young and foolhardy and the quick thinking of the King's nephew, Eomer, had saved them both from being massacred along with many of the people of Deorwang.
That yes, his other two children, Gleowine and Delwyn, were both safe and sound, completely unharmed, awaiting him in the warmth of Meduseld's kitchens, and only frightened for their sister. That his wife, Gwynaeth, was alive and well.
But Deorwang was in ash and ruin, and his little one, his Deorwyn, his wild one, was missing, out and alone in the frigid chill of clinging winter's death grip.
Grima had said all that, with pity in his tone but none his eyes. There was no sympathy from him, only those words like blows from an axe.
Your daughter is missing.
He made his way into the kitchens of Meduseld, and found his other two children sitting with the young lord Eomer and young lady Eowyn, sipping cups of frothy, fresh milk and eating piping hot, freshly baked bread. Gleowine sat with Eomer, the little boy tensed and his face white and pinched.
The King's nephew patted him on the back, though there was something akin to misery on the older boy's face when he turned to glance at Delwyn, the Lord's second daughter.
Delwyn rubbed at her face, and Deorwine felt his heart jerk in his chest. Delwyn and Deorwyn were twins, and to see Delwyn's face and know that his other child was lost, wandering in the wilds of Deorwang…
"Papa!" Delwyn scrambled off the table bench. The Lord of Deorwang dropped to his knees and opened his arms to let her run to him. "Deorwyn! Deorwyn is gone! You gots to find her, Papa!"
"We will," he murmured, stroking her golden hair. "We'll find her. There, there, now, we'll find her, leofa."
He held out his free arm to Gleowine, who toddled over to him and cuddled into his chest against Delwyn.
"We'll find her, I promise you."
"Lord Deorwine," a warm voice murmured from the doorway. He turned his head to see Prince Theodred standing hesitantly behind him. "My Lord King Théoden wishes to see you now."
Gently, Deorwine disengaged his trembling children from where they'd wrapped themselves in his travel-stained cloak to burrow close to him, and got to his feet. Ignoring the fear cloying on the back of his tongue, he began to follow the Prince out of the kitchens, when he stopped and leaned on the doorframe.
"Lord Eomer?"
The boy jumped, startled, and stared up at him.
"My lord?"
Deorwine stared for a long moment into the young lord's eyes, saw the self-loathing and the yearning, the heartache. This boy, this youth, had saved the life of Eothain, his son, but at the cost of Deorwyn, Eothain's sister.
Could he really say it?
Could he really?
"I…."
The look on the boy's face broke the grieving lord's heart.
"I thank you," he said, though it nearly choked him, "for the life of my son."
With that, he walked out.
oo8oo8oo8oo
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