Brothers: Five

Hannah

Northern Lordaeron, End of Second War

She sat, writing by low lamplight, her worn journal on the only desk in the small farmhouse. Her husband slept soundly in their bed behind her, but she couldn't sleep. Not with the news that had come earlier that morning, not knowing that the young boy downstairs was no doubt having nightmares of being alone, crying to himself. She had tried to comfort him, but he pushed her away, and months of working in the fields made him strong enough that she knew better than to come on too strongly.

I didn't want the boy to hear that kind of news that way. Not like that, with some cold, uncaring messenger delivering the news as he had done hundreds of times to hundreds of families since the war had ended. But he had. He and Danir heard me cry out and came running from the fields, worry on their faces. The messenger said his cold words, monotonous and unfeeling, then left us, terrible grief following in his wake, not even turning back once. Perhaps that's why he's so unfeeling. Perhaps if he turns back, he'll get dragged down into the vast sea of despair he leaves behind. He had handed us one of the vambraces with Lord Laric's family crest, and a torn tunic with the lord's colors, no doubt worn by Loem.

She paused, tears welling up again thinking about how Elaine's elder son was dead, her husband dead, at the hands of terrible, monstrous orcs and trolls. Oh, Elaine, I wish I could have protected Loem, too. I'm sorry. She bent her head to the page again, her quill scratching quietly.

Leo didn't quite understand, at first. If it had been for anything else, it could have been described as comical, the way he stood there, dumbfounded, his jaw hanging slack... but there was nothing funny about it. It was like a puppet at a fair, it's strings cut suddenly, when realization struck. He crumpled to the ground and I rushed to his side. It was the first time he cried without seeming to apologize for it, and he let me hold him, comfort him. It almost felt as though I had a child of my own, though even then I knew that wouldn't last. He'd get angry, blame himself, blame his father, blame us... In time, I know he'll forgive us, and himself... I hope he forgives his father, someday, too. He's just a boy, after all. He took the vambrace and the tunic, and neither Danir or I tried to stop him. Last I saw, he was curled up in his bed, the bit of worn armor clutched in his hand, the tunic used as a blanket. I dare not take them from him now, but I worry that it will do more harm than good. If he comes to the table in the morning wearing them, I'll be more insistent. Still, I can't imagine what he's going through right now. Laric Kingswarden was my lord, his dead wife my best friend, but he was a difficult man and I can't say I was terribly fond of him in life. His death, while sad, is less terrible to me than the death of his son, an innocent, and so like Elaine. The gods may strike me down for that, but I cannot bring myself to feel too much sorrow for Laric, for taking his boy to war when he was only eleven.

She paused again, anger smoldering in her soul. She smiled tearfully, though, and shook her head, wiping her eyes.

No, I cannot hate him. It will show, and though Leodry is not as bright as Loem was, he'll know something is wrong. I must forgive m'lord for his act. Gods! I just realized, now that both Laric and Loem are gone, Leodry is technically our lord now. Perhaps it is good that their family has lost much of the estate over the many years. These few farms and stretch of land are all the Kingswarden family has to its name. The keep the family once had has long since been reduced to rubble and dirt and the large farmhouse and now-empty stables are all that's left. M'Lord Laric never did much for the house, but maybe Danir and I can fix it up and take Leodry back there when he's a bit older. It's his house and land now, and I'll do my best to teach him how to run his estate. The other farming families will surely help as well, I think. They were on better terms with lord Laric than I. I'll send letters in the morning, I think.

She sighed and put her pen aside, the realization that the lord of her lands was dead and the new one was downstairs crying himself to sleep more than she could bear. She blew out the lamp and crawled into bed next to her husband. In his sleep, he reached out for her and she nestled into his arms, content.

Perhaps it would be better to just let him live a simple life of a farmer. A simple man can do as he pleases without the trials and difficulties of dealing with an estate. He can work, and live, and love. His life can be uncomplicated. Leodry deserves a simpler life. He deserves a better life.

He deserves a family.