"Guard well the son of the Child of Light for he shall have no brother."

[wellthrownstone]

He staggers in, looking

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[fairest1]

"Garion? Are you all right?"

Snow is there, looking rather worried.

[wellthrownstone]

He shakes his head, burying his face in his hands.

[fairest1]

"Oh."

She pauses, unsure how to proceed.

"Is there anything I can do?"

[wellthrownstone]

A shudder, almost like a chuckle, and another shake of his head.

"No. I... don't... I--"

He could be dead. He could be gone forever. He could be drowned. He could have been dropped on the rocks. A thousand horrors dance in his mind and he's never cursed his vivid imagination before as he does now.

[fairest1]

Crises are always simpler to deal with if it comes down to needing to plan a battle or find a weapon or escape capture. This?

She tenatively places a comforting hand on his shoulder.

[wellthrownstone]

He doesn't move into the touch or away from it, but it's acknowledged.

[fairest1]

Well. It's something. You can't predict how someone will react to contact when they're in the middle of a crisis. She stays there, and does her best to offer comfort.

[wellthrownstone]

"Someone took my son."

[fairest1]

The hand that is not on Garion's shoulder clenches into a white-knuckled fist, then glares at the unknown enemy through the door.

"Oh."

There's not much that can be said. Reassurances sound hollow at a time like this, and offers of backup are better made after the target is identified.

[wellthrownstone]

He nods, not even looking up. The hand on his shoulder tells him everything he needs to know.

"Yes."