++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++Day 3++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Theodred and Eomer

"You are lucky, Eomer Eomund's son. If you were any other boy, I'd thrash you in a moment."

The King's nephew looked up at his cousin, the Second Marshall of the Riddermark, into those eyes full of red rage and dark disappointment, and wondered how everything had gone so wrong. He'd only been trying to help a friend find his sister, and now Eothain was grievously wounded, Eowyn was missing, he himself was in disgrace before his uncle, Amberfire was dead and Eothain's horse wounded, and Theodred was angry at him.

"I… I was only trying to… I only meant to… I'm sorry, Your Highness," the boy mumbled, bowing his head. Heat suffused his cheeks, and he could feel hot tears of shame stinging his eyes. To have disappointed Theodred, who had believed in him and taught him what it was to be Rohirrim… and to have failed Eothain, his dearest friend….

"I know what you meant to do, Eomer," Theodred murmured softly, and laid a hand on his shoulder. "As I said, if you were any other boy, I'd thrash you this instant. But you are not any other boy. You are Eomer, my cousin, and I know your heart. You only meant to help your friend, and a lady in distress." The prince chuckled when at the look on his young cousin's face. Tag-along little Deorwyn, a lady? A pest, a sister and a nag, maybe, but not a lady! She was too little! "Yes, a lady. A small one, to be sure, but a lady none the less. You were only doing what you thought was best. But you should leave the deeds of search and rescue to the Eorlingas. Because of your foolishness, we have lost two fine horses, and Eothain is hurt."

The young boy could not stop a tear from rolling down his cheek.

"We will find Deorwyn, I promise you," Theodred murmured. With that, the prince left Eomer in the stables, curled up beside Hildwyn, his cousin's mare, with the sick feeling in his chest that no, the Eorlingas would never find his friend's sister.

Deorwine & Eothain

The eldest son of the Lord of Deorwang burned with fever as the Orc poison coursed steadily through his veins. The sheets were drenched with sweat, and he thrashed in his oblivion, moaning, "Deorwyn… wild one, wild one… Deorwyn… sister…."

At his bedside, Lord Deorwine brushed back a sopping wet strand of hair. The poison raced through the boy, eating him up, and there was nothing he could do. Would the Valar take his son, his oldest child, his pride and joy and honor, as well as his eldest daughter?

"Deorwyn… Fangorn… don't hurt her… Deorwyn… wild one… the silver sea… Eomer… Woses… Deorwyn… the trees… the White Hand is killing the trees… must not… Deorwyn…." Eothain cried, and fell into deeper sleep.

"I'll find her, Eothain," he murmured, stroking back his son's hair. "I'll find her."

Saruman

Ever so carefully, the White Wizard pulled the stopper from a crystal vial and poured the thick, red liquid into the Entwash. As it seeped into the waters, Saruman cast his eyes towards Fangorn, and smiled a cold, cruel smile. Soon the forest would be at his mercy. If all went well, the forest would fall, and he would have stripped Gandalf of that power base. Steel and iron was his power, rowan and ash the power of Gandalf, and at this point, taking as much power from that side was a good idea.

The wild child… the swan princess… beware her…. Something at the edge of Saruman's mind whispered softly. Frowning, he thought about this as the water of the Entwash grew murky. Wild child… swan princess… Dol Amroth? The Swan Princess, Finduilas of Dol Amroth, was dead. What other Swan Princess was there? Imrahil had no daughter… and as long as he had no daughter, there was no danger. Well and good.

He listened intently as the life in the river began screaming in pain, and smiled.

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Jeez... what a jerk.

In the words of JunoMagic:

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