Your Father's Son
1. Your Father's Son
Théodred felt his heart hammering with rage, and closed his eyes because he knew that if his father looked at him, he’d recognize his feeling because of the bright, wild, almost white that his eyes became upon strong emotions. He bit his tongue so hard that it became numb, to stop the grunt that he knew would escape him otherwise. Was it a grunt, a scream, or something less… civil? All he hoped was that those present could exercise some degree of restraint, though he was not sure of how he himself would fare on that regard.
His father, he knew, sat still at the throne, surely with that worm bent over him. Elfhelm he could see to the right of where he was, his face stern as a widower’s. Offa and Burgred appeared to be on the verge of a seizure; Théodred could see a vein on Burgred’s forehead pulsing, while Offa’s face was plain red. The other advisors, guards and servants were accounted for, but, where was Éomer? Blast it, that boy! He better not do something rash now; it’s not the moment. And still, why was he so certain that Éomer, if he were to do something, would choose one such moment to do it?
He flattened his palms on the table and pushed himself forward, searching for his cousin’s tall head among the men. He needed not look too long: a rough, loud thud, like the sudden pushing of a chair, rose from the corner behind him. This time, Théodred turned abruptly toward the sound and glared. He was not the only one.
To be continued...
His father, he knew, sat still at the throne, surely with that worm bent over him. Elfhelm he could see to the right of where he was, his face stern as a widower’s. Offa and Burgred appeared to be on the verge of a seizure; Théodred could see a vein on Burgred’s forehead pulsing, while Offa’s face was plain red. The other advisors, guards and servants were accounted for, but, where was Éomer? Blast it, that boy! He better not do something rash now; it’s not the moment. And still, why was he so certain that Éomer, if he were to do something, would choose one such moment to do it?
He flattened his palms on the table and pushed himself forward, searching for his cousin’s tall head among the men. He needed not look too long: a rough, loud thud, like the sudden pushing of a chair, rose from the corner behind him. This time, Théodred turned abruptly toward the sound and glared. He was not the only one.
To be continued...
This is a work of fan fiction, written because the author has an abiding love for the works of J R R Tolkien. The characters, settings, places, and languages used in this work are the property of the Tolkien Estate, Tolkien Enterprises, and possibly New Line Cinema, except for certain original characters who belong to the author of the said work. The author will not receive any money or other remuneration for presenting the work on this archive site. The work is the intellectual property of the author, is available solely for the enjoyment of Henneth Annûn Story Archive readers, and may not be copied or redistributed by any means without the explicit written consent of the author.
