[Nurumaiel]

Daisy sat wearily upon her uncle's shoulder, her eyes desiring to close but her whole being rebelling against the mere thought of sleep. Worry pulled at her little heart and she wondered what had become of her papa and Eric. They had paused by the river, and she began to slide from her uncle's shoulder to let him know she wanted to be put down. He gently set her upon the ground, and she went to her mother and took her hand, squeezing it tightly. She felt a comforting arm go about her shoulders, and she buried her head in her mother's side, trying to imagine away all the terrible things that had taken place.

It was very odd. Every other time something bad happened she was able to pretend it hadn't, and imagine something good had happened instead, or that nothing had happened at all. But now she could see nothing but the ill that had befallen them, and when she tried to imagine something else she saw only worse things. Like her father lying hurt somewhere and calling for help... lying in the darkness, all alone, with the flames around him and the dragon above him. Her little knees trembled, and her mother sensed it and took a stronger hold on her, helping her to sit down, and thens sitting down beside her. Daisy crawled into her mother's lap and gazed with wide eyes up into her face. "Mamma," she whispered urgently. "Mamma, where is Papa?"

"I don't know, dearest," her mother whispered. Her face was tense, and the worry was clear in her eyes. Daisy could only imagine how hard it was for her mother to not know where Papa was.

"Will he be all right, Mamma?" she questioned. "Why is everyone so worried about Eric? Why don't they try to find Papa?"

"They are trying to find Papa, but he's a grown man and can take care of himself. Eric is just a little boy."

"But what if Papa is hurt and can't take care of himself?" Daisy persisted. Her mother said nothing but her lips tightened and a shadow passed over her face, and she pulled her daughter closer to her. Daisy gazed up at the night sky, and then down towards the river to look into its depths. Papa would not be hurt. If he was hurt she would take care of him and make him better. If only they could find him. It would be all right then, even if he was hurt. Mamma could make anyone better. Mamma had made her better when she had fallen and scratched her knee. Even if he was hurt, everything would be all right. But Papa was not even hurt. This she knew, or tried to believe with all her heart.

She let her eyes close as she lay in the warmth of her mother's arms. It would be sweet to sleep for a little while, and to wake refreshed and ready to search for her papa and take care of him if he was hurt. But sleep would not come. It lingered about her, but when at last it reluctantly gave in and moved forward to take her, worry would shove it aside and assail her mind with doubts and fears. Sleep would always be forced to flee. She heard her mother humming softly, and then faintly heard the words of an old lullaby.

"Hush little one, close your eyes
and sleep beneath the morning skies.
Though sleep may at the dawn flee
I will always keep you close to me.
Hush little one, sleep."