Lachise tossed and turned in his sleep that night. Thalace had been unable to make a deal with those travelers, who had the same amount of water as they did, but with less people to share it with.
Thalace got nightmares when the weather was cold, because that was what it was like that day his parents died. Lachise’s case was the opposite.
Thus, every night for four days after the encounter with those travelers, Lachise had nightmares. If he woke up, then he would be screaming and crying, but sometimes he would not wake up at all, but sob in his sleep. Thalace was the only person who could soothe him, even though all he did was take off his blankets and sometimes his night shirt, and rub his back.
After those four days of travelling slowly, they completely ran out of water.
Twenty five of the horses had died, and the humans expected themselves to follow shortly.
“This is bad,” Demi Nai whispered. “So bad.” Jand rolled his eyes at him. It was a waste of breath to speak.
Thalace could not think of a time when he was despairing more than he was now. His nephews, his little boys--their death was nigh. Why had he put them in this situation anyway? Was it his fault?
‘I should never have brought them to Lady Quenia in the first place,” he thought in his anguish. ‘I should never have taken them from their mother.’
It occurred to Thalace that he would never see his second child. His death was inevitable. Then it occurred to him that Ventweno would have no leader. He would die, the twins would die, his only child was a girl, and what if the second was as well? Then Cecemia’s first son would be king, but that child would not be born for years, assuming he ever would be.His death was nigh.
MWEHEHEHEHEHEHE!!!!! I can see why Steven Moffat finds hurting characters so fun. I like this.
Don't worry, their relief will come soon. :)