Murphy

He had followed from the shadows that dreadful evening. He had watched with his own mismatched eyes as the world tore in half and his king fell from the cliff, plummeting into the dark sea below. He had heard the painful cries of Angmar as he sank below the cold waves mix with the shouts of triumph from the rebels. Morrigan had finally been the one to tear him from his stupor and guide him back to his room through the maze of shadows.

He had not intervened for he had been ordered to keep away, to trust in Dred's plans. If only he had...

His hand gripped the bottle of herbs so tightly he could feel the glass begin to fracture beneath worn hands. Taking three deep breaths, he gently relaxed his grip and set it down, taking in the cracks that appeared within the once perfectly formed glass. Dred may be gone, but something deep within told him to keep his hopes alive. The king had told him to trust within his plans and no one had been able to recover the bodies from the inky sea. Wyvern had only to hold onto the smallest thread that he had been left with. There was no way that Dred's plan had been to throw himself off the cliff and give complete victory over to his nephew. There was no way that he would have given up and left his wife and son to the wolves.

Lo....

His eyes widened as he realized what was going on in the castle today. Oh no, he had to find the young one quickly. He threw his wardrobe open, grabbing the beak like black mask and tossing it on along with the black cloak. He sank into the shadows, his footsteps silent as he stepped onto pockets of air, concentrating on Loholt as he began to track him through the hidden maze of dark tunnels.

How could he have let the time pass by? He should have been keeping a closer eye upon the small boy. He should have made sure that the windows were closed, that the horrors outside would be kept from his view. He swore under his breath as his guilt fed into his urgency. He pushed himself into a run on the pockets of air as the shadows danced around him. "Faster. Please don't let him have seen." He growled to himself as he sped in the direction of Loholt.

"Wyvern...it's too late. If he is near a window, he has already seen the...

Morrigan's words in his mind were drowned out by the shrill scream that pierced through the darkness. A scream that cried out in anger, in grief, in horrified confusion. The scream of a child in pain.

"Fuck."

He had reached the secret door that led into Loholt's new room and threw it open, catching it before it crashed into the wall. The image before him made his arms prickle and the hairs upon the back of his neck stand up. He had been trained to drown his emotions when needed, but his heart had always carried a soft spot for the boy who was almost like his own. Lo was screaming and destroying, overcome by emotions that he recognized all too well.

He cast his eyes towards the bedroom door, making sure it was closed and locked before he moved across the room to Loholt, grabbing him gently by the shoulders as he screamed.

"Loholt. Lo. Look at me. They will hear you. Do you want them to hear your pain? Does a prince want to look weak before those who would torment him?" One hand moved to grab Lo's chin in a gentle but firm grip, tilting it up to meet his gaze.