How did it come to this?
Loyal to her family, her lands and her people, Théadain, the illegitimate daughter of Théoden, King of Rohan, has little concern for the world that lies beyond her familiar grasslands. When all that she loves is threatened...
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Chapter 2
"I Théadain, daughter of Léadain present this – the first kill of the season – brought down in the name of Théoden, King."
"I thank you, daughter, for doing me this honour." Théadain looked up from where she knelt at the dais in front of her father's throne, meeting his smiling, yet tired eyes. "I accept this offering, and declare the season of our hunt begun – let the feast commence."
"Hail Théoden, King!" The call rose up behind her back like a wave, the silence of the hall descending into warm conversation as the people of Edoras began their feast at the great banqueting tables.
"Hail." Théa echoed with a smile, rising to her father's side. "You look well tonight, father."
"That is what you say to an old man when he looks slightly better than his worst." She grinned at the playful smile on the King's thin lips as she helped him to sit at the table beside his son and heir.
"Nonsense father, you look twice the man you were when we left for the hunt, I do believe you will lead us in it next year."
*
"He looked terrible tonight." Théadain murmured as she raised the clay tankard of ale to her lips, perched beside her brother on one of the feasting tables, their feet resting on the bench below as they observed the hall. No sooner had the King cleared a meagre amount from his plate, his advisor Grima had appeared at his side to guide him off to his chambers. "Worse than before we left."
"I saw." Théodred sighed, his eyes fixed on a point on the far wall as he swallowed a mouthful of ale, "An old man wrapped in thick furs in a warm hall. He is wasting away, Théa, before his time and I feel powerless to stop it."
"I only hope that we are not." A deep voice cut through the silence that followed her brother's words, and the siblings looked up to see the tall form of their cousin Éomer join them.
"What do you mean?" Théa asked softly, her eyes searching the serious face of the Second Marshall of Rohan as he pursed his lips.
"I have seen men grow old, but never one so quickly and so before his time – especially one so strong." He sighed, "It's as if... As if he is under some spell, some dark magic."
"Éomer..." Théodred murmured doubtfully, "I know you love him as we do, but I fear it is simply age, and we should not give ourselves false hope. Every child must come to terms with the fact that their parent is not eternal."
"Don't you think I know that?" Éomer spat, a sudden venom in his words as he rose from his seat, his gaze softening as Théadain stood and laid her hands on his forearms.
"You know he meant no hurt, Éomer, we have all felt the loss of a parent, you and Éowyn doubly so." She murmured softly, "None of us want to lose him."
