Mistress of the Fellowship (LOTR)

* 34 * Blood

Eomer was kind yet there was a fierceness about him. He spoke with no nonsense and a stout tongue making all around him listen. Though he was a focused man Kordelia caught him looking her way numerous times to study her. She knew the look he was giving her for it was one she was all to familiar with for it was one of wonder, not like the enchanting or rapture wonder but wonder what exactly went one behind her focused eyes, was she dangerous?

She tried her best to appear to be less focused and tuned in on the going ons to avoid more skeptical glances.

She sat hunched over eating silently the provisions the soldiers shared with her as she plotted how to retrieve Éomer’s blood and what she should do about this turn of events. The king had lost a significant number of horsemen, warriors, that were to be precious in this war and give men the chance to hold out the night that was to come but now it seemed a fool’s errand. By the time her troops arrived they were to come upon a silent graveyard of dead men, women, and children. Rohan would be lost forever and Sauman’s troops would be moving on to Gondor.

Her eyes kept darting back to her bag and finally she could take no more as she retrieved the viles, ground lissium, elanor, water from the Black River, lilac oil, but no Evening Blossom nectar. Damn you Thayonidas! But then her shoulder as if on queue radiated with heat like it was being branded with a hot poker. Kordelia moved back the shoulder of her tunic to see the enflamed skin and she had to smile a shake her head at what she saw. The scab of her poisoned wound was in the shape of an evening blossom and was to become a scar.

The evening blossom had saved her life. Legolas had told her about the lily she needed to find but she had found the evening blossom instead and she was still alive. Would the healing powers of the evening blossom in her system be enough to make the elixir work? It was a gamble and if it didn’t work, she might have to wait again to find more lissium. The battle was once again on in her mind but rather than allow it to consume her she pushed them aside as she looked up and took a deep breath.

When she looked back Eomer was looking at her but this time with an alarmed look and he quickly excused himself from the conversation with his leaders. He went to her and grabbed a hold of her arm and escorted her to his tent in a quick matter.

Once there he closed the canvas door and in a low voice he demanded, “What are you doing here?”

She cocked her head to the side as if to question his question but he said, “I know who you are and what you can do but I do not know where your allegiance lies nor your intentions. You are the Last of the Wilds.”

She turned her head and looked at her reflection in the blade of a sword near her. Veeda’s spell did not last a full day it would seem, the green was gone and her golden eyes seemed to almost glow. She looked back at Éomer and gave him a crooked smile and said, “Would you like an introduction Marshal Éomer?” It was clear she was being coy and Éomer was not necessarily thrilled about it, rather he was both irritated and standoffish. He would never allow himself to show it but she frightened him.