The fight.
I never wanted you to see
The darkest part of me
I knew you'd run away
I waited but you never came
Éomer stalked silently down the stairs of the dark dungeon that had mold sprouting from the stone walls. Six cells lined the two walls that created a corridor to the end cage, where the hunter had been contained. His eyes met her back almost instantaneously, she was looking out the barred window with a far off glare.
"Blade?", His deep voice echoed through the dungeon but she did not acknowledge him. He noticed that Tyras had escaped the night before, it worried him why she had chosen to stay in the dark, leaking cell. He walked closer to the iron bars and rested his hand against the corroded surface.
"I do not expect you to stay in here", Éomer's voice pierced the silence. Blade turned to face him, her face showing an unreadable expression as she took a step forward.
"Then what do you expect from me?!", The hunter slammed her hands against the iron bars in front of him, wrapping her slender fingers around the rusted bars. He didn't faze away from her abrupt action, he stood like a stone, feeling the guilt of leaving her in a place fit for a prisoner.
"Do you expect me to be in chains?!", She hissed angrily, pushing herself away from him.
"You cannot start magic fights with Tyras in my Meduseld, these are not your people, I will not allow them to be exposed to such sorcery", Éomer reasoned harshly, glaring holes into her back that faced him. He watched as she breathed out heavily, feeling the texture of the wall with her hands while leaning against it for support.
"...These are not my people and they never will be...", Her soft voice echoed off the walls surrounding her. Blade's statement caused a lump to rise in his throat but he quickly swallowed it.
"What are you suggesting?", The King asked harshy, she turned to face him with a plain expression.
"I leave today...wherever I go, Tyras will follow, your people will be safe", She felt a tear prick her eye but she looked away quickly, back to the window.
"Despite what you think of Tyras, he saved you", Éomer spoke with disbelief, Blade laughed with insincerity at his stupidity.
"He is evil and you would be a fool if you thought otherwise", The hunter snapped back as the gate that kept her in place was unlocked. Blade walked past him briskly but he caught her arm on her exit.
"I said the same about you", The king lowered his tone.
"...And you were proven a fool", Blade hissed bashfully and ripped her arm from his grasp.
"Hunter", Éomer voice pierced the silence, stopping her in her stride to reach the stairs. She turned her head back to acknowledge him with a sinking feeling in her stomach as he neared her.
"There is a celebration tonight to commemorate the victory at Helms Deep...it's only fitting you be there. Consider leaving tomorrow.", The king's request made her raise an eyebrow with surprise, she hadn't realised it had been a year. Blade met his eyes, they reflected the shadow of the man she had fallen in love with, but it was not him.
"I leave today", She repeated and looked away from the eyes that showed such disdain toward her.
"Then I will return this to you",
The hunter felt a drop in her stomach as his hands unclasped the necklace that had hung loosely against his chest. His action was the death of hope, he wanted to hurt her and he did. It felt like a thousand pins jabbed into her body as he held out the silver object in his palm, confronting her with emotion. Blade grasped the pendant, looking over the engraving. He was waiting for a reaction, anything, something that told him to give up hope. He watched with a clenched jaw as she let the object slip through her hands, wincing at the sound of it hitting the hard ground. She walked away, leaving him in the dungeons alone.
"You returned from the grave to save him and yet you are leaving?", Tyras blocked the path of the Hunter at the stone steps of the Meduseld.
"He is safe", Blade spoke without falter and glared into the eyes of the necromancer.
"You did not reverse the spell", His low voice echoed off the stone pavement.
"He is safe", She repeated bitterly, giving his a look that told him to move from her path.
"The Shadow Hunter of the east is giving up so easily", Tyras mused with a smirk, matching her height on the stairs, gripping onto her shoulders. Blade breathed out deeply before swiftly meeting his chest with her boot. People gasped around them as the man started to fall but disappeared from sight before he was slammed against the stone. The hunter walked forward with a smile on her lips meeting the furious eyes of Tyras after two steps.
"Blade!", Someone called to her from the Meduseld just as her eyes met the figure behind Tyras. Her eyes widened with fear instantaneously.
"Gabriel", A familiar voice pierced the silence, Tyras turned to face the person.
Éomer watched the Hunter leave through the Meduseld doors. Her hair hung loosely around her shoulders with a single braid down each side of her temple, the black flowing coat he had been so fond of drifted behind her with each step she took away from him. Her blades clinked together against her back like the torturous ticking of time, seeming only to torture him for convincing himself that he should let her leave.
The necromancer stood in her path speaking indecipherable words that seemed only to anger her further. The way she acted around Tyras reminded him much of how she was with him, it was difficult to see. A laugh escaped his lips as she booted the man in the chest, shaking his head in amusement and anguish. Tyras appeared in front of her momentarily, it was in that moment Éomer spotted the man behind him.
"Blade!", Éomer shouted in panic, running briskly toward her. His hands fumbled to release his sword from it's sheath.
"No", Blade spoke softly, catching Tyras' attention. He looked into her bewildered eyes with confusion.
Tyras approached the figure cautiously, squinting to see the man's face under his hood. She could hear Éomer shouting instructions to the Rohirrim as he ran to her, placing a hand on her shoulder.
"Tyras", Blade warned in a low voice while producing her sword.
"Blade,",Éomer gave her a look that told her to take the fight away from his people. The mystery man swung out his sword, nicking Tyras' cheek as he jumped back, relentlessly jabbing at the unarmed Necromancer.
"Stay Back!", Blade growled at the Rohirrim that marched toward the scene. Her eyes met the man's tattered coat and graying dark hair, making her fingers quiver against the hilt of her sword. She took an unsteady breath of air and stepped forward.
"Leanthar!", Her voice came out stronger than she felt, making the man snap his head toward her, saving Tyras' life from a violent impale. Something sinister lurked beyond his eyes, the man she had killed eight years ago was dead, this was something else.
"Blade and Gabriel, destined to find one another", Leanthar spat with disgust, driving his boot into Tyras' side. The necromancer growled in annoyance, throwing a stream of purple energy toward him. Leanthar smirked as the electric feel of the Necromancer's energy absorbed into his chest, returning his son's whisp of power. Blade watched Tyras hopelessly reflect the attack, being thrown back into the dirt with a singed scorch mark on his shoulder. People ran into their homes at the command of the Rohirrim, watching from windows. Blade flinched as Tyras' body hit the ground, widening her eyes in fear.
"What are you?", She hissed with curiosity, Leanthar gritted his teeth, taking a step up the stairs toward her. His eyes drifted off her, meeting Éomer's behind her, making her heart beat faster.
"You found the Rohirrim boy?", A whimsical smirk met his lips, sending a shiver down her spine. Her sword met his with a rhythmic clash of metal, his strength was overpowering. He used her concentration to head butt her, sending her stumbling back up the stair. Blood seeped from her eyebrow as she retreated back a few steps, with every step she took back Leanthar took two toward her. Her heart sank as foot slipped out from underneath her and he grabbed her by the collar. A smug smirk was plastered on his lips, making her turn her head away in disgust at his breath on her neck.
"He's your brother", Leanthar whispered in her ear, her eyes met the still body of the necromancer, turning her head back to Leanthar with disgust. She raised her sword but he was quicker and threw her off the side of the stairs.
"Hold your ground", Éomer called to his men, they guarded the Meduseld doors and would die doing so. Blade was their only hope against Leanthar.
"What are you?", Blade's voice was weak, dumbfounded. It was something he had never witnessed from her. It seemed almost instantaneous as his eyes met the man's he had feared so much all those years ago..
"You found the Rohirrim boy?"
Éomer stiffened at the sound of the man's voice, watching from the landing of the stairs. Leanthar's glare lingered, making a sinister smile form on his lips. The king felt guilty letting Blade battle the man alone but Leanthar would only kill his men if he fought. Surely, she would defeat the man easily...surely. Éomer looked away with a lump in his throat as she fell, being caught by the cruel man. He taunted her, making her flinch away from the dark words that he whispered. It made the King's blood boil, gasping as the man effortlessly tossed her off the side of the steep stairs. Éomer stepped forward, motioning for his men to stay back. Leanthar approached him with haste, glaring down at each other.
"You will leave these lands, leave before you are hunted", Éomer hissed with strength, making the man's smile widen. The king was paralysed as Leanthar held up his palm, reaching for the pendent around his neck. He flipped it over, to the inscription on the back, holding it in firmly his hand. Leanthar's reaction made Éomer furrow his brow in confusion.
"You will be the one to kill her, before the end", Leanthar spoke softly, meeting the King's eyes. The man took a step back, nudging Éomer to the side just as a knife cut through Leanthar's ghostly body, embedding itself in the wall behind where Éomer had been standing. Leanthar met his eyes one last time before disappearing into the air.
Blade stood on the stairs clutching her shoulder, blood dripped from her cut eyebrow. She held out her hand and the knife retracted from the wall, holstering it in her sheath.
"Tyras", The hunter descended the steps and knelt next to the necromancer's body. She shook his shoulder, making him stir. He was conscious but weak.
"Blade", He replied weakly, coughing against stench of his own burnt flesh.
"You need to stand", Blade spoke softly, he nodded weakly. She placed an arm around his back and his arm over her shoulder, helping him into the Meduseld.
"Argh", Tyras hissed in pain at Blade's touch on his wounded shoulder. Éomer could not help but watch the Hunter roughly attend to the Necromancer from the doorway, it brought a smile to his lips at her ignorance to Tyras pain. In the same time it looked like she had warmed to his character, not leaving him to die on the steps. It also made a pang of sadness rise in his heart at the intimacy of their seating. Blade sat next to him with his shoulder in her lap, cleaning his wound before she healed the oozing red mess. Éomer walked into the healing chambers, meeting the stares of many surprised people of Rohan, they weren't surprised that he was there, it was who he had come to see.
"Stay still and be quiet", Blade spoke with a smirk before dabbing a poultice on Tyras' shoulder. The necromancer clenched his jaw and shot her a glare that seemed familiar to the King. Tyras shifted uncomfortably, knocking her arm in the process. She breathed in deeply with a clamped jaw, her arm was hurt. Éomer met her eyes, kneeling next to her to take a better look at Tyras' wound. He was so close to her he could see the blood laced in her eyebrow that stained her face a pink colour from trying to brush it away.
"Allow me to fix your shoulder, when Tyras is well", Éomer shifted his gaze from the wound to the Hunter, it seemed more like a request than an offer.
"What is wrong with your shoulder?", Tyras huffed in discomfort, turning his head to look at her shoulder that stuck out on a strange angle. He looked unimpressed by the injury, flicking his fingers in one fluid motion. Blade glared toward the Necromancer with fury as the bones in her shoulder popped back into place. The unexpected force pushed her shoulder back violently, Éomer caught her waist to prevent her from falling and turned his head back to the necromancer.
"I expect you both to be at the celebration tonight".
Blade breathed out heavily, watching Éomer leave the chamber, he was hiding something from her, she could see it in his eyes.
"That creature was an Echo, was it not?", The hunter spoke plainly to Tyras.
"Yes", He replied, gritting his teeth at the cold air that crusted his wound.
"An omen, something is coming for you", Tyras continued, raising his eyebrow throughout his sentence.
"How did you banish it?",
"I pierced it's ghost flesh with a mortal weapon", Blade murmured, preparing herself to heal Tyras' shoulder.
"You have faced one before?", He seemed surprised by the prospect.
"No, Leanthar had...", Blade paused in her speech, with squinted eyes.
"He called you Gabriel?", Her turn of speech caught Tyras' attention.
"It was the name I used to hide from him", He spoke without falter, giving her a look that pleaded with her to fix his shoulder and leave the questions.
"No, Gabriel is your birth name", Blade revealed, making his brow raise.
The hall shone brightly among the ribbons that decorated its pillars. Tables had been shifted to the side to create a dance floor where the people could dance to the harp music. Blade bustled around people that stood in the hall, dressed in their finest attire, Blade herself had even worn new black breeches, her dark tunic that laced at her breast like a bodice but clung to her like a dress and split down the middle at her waist. Her face had been cleaned and her hair braided at the side. She felt the people of Rohan had become accustomed to seeing her, she was not a mysterious woman in black anymore. They would much rather focus on the purple eyed man, who had dressed finely for the occasion.
"Blade", An older man from the council called her to the table that had been assigned for them. Éomer had not yet come to join them but the rest had been seated for a while. The hunter took a seat at the end of the table and pulled in her chair.
"Men, Blade", Éomer's voice echoed behind her, followed by footsteps.
"We have only two matters to discuss", The man who had called her over spoke quickly.
"Tonight we have two women who have traveled far to meet you Lord Éomer: An Elf from Lothlorien and a woman from Eriador-", Blade drowned out the rest of the conversation the brought a sinking feeling to her heart, glancing over to Tyras who had been conversing with the many women who had him surrounded. He met her eyes through the crowd of people that danced on the stone floor, almost as if he could sense her discomfort.
"Blade", Éomer snapped her thoughts back to the council, who had their eyes on her.
"What?", Blade asked distantly.
"The Necromancer and Yourself have proven difficult to keep contained. You fought well for middle Earth and we would like to offer you a position to protect the King", Blade's eyes widened in question.
"Thank you for the offer, but I leave tomorrow".
"But If that creature should return-", Éomer held up his hand to silence the man, meeting her eye from the end of the table.
"The creature was a warning, something much more powerful hunts me. Where I go, it will soon follow.", Blade spoke bluntly with a dreading feeling weighing on her heart.
"Will you return, when the creature is defeated?", A man no older than herself asked above the silence. Éomer shifted uncomfortably in his seat, wondering the same question. Blade smirked with sadness in her eyes, understanding that the effort to defeat the creature would take her life. It was a part of her and her it, she felt it gaining on her. Tyras appeared next to her suddenly, desperately trying to escape the attention he was being given.
"I imagine my return will be upon my sword", The Hunter replied softly, standing from her seat.
"I imagine my return will be upon my sword",
Éomer opened his mouth to speak but he felt that there was nothing to be said. He could not offer his people's lives by asking her to stay, nor would he show her such affection. He sat silently as she walked away with the Necromancer by her side, an empty feeling growing in his chest.
"You cannot allow her to leave, Lord Éomer", Ren spoke in a hushed tone by his side.
"She has spoken", The King hissed, standing from his seated position.
An icy chill met the Hunter from the window sill next to her, she needed time away from the hoards of people that congregated in the hall. The back of the hall was quiet, peaceful. She watched as Éomer silenced the hall with the action of standing, it made a small smile form on her lips. She imagined herself standing next to him, before he had been cursed, laughing at the fool that sat in Theoden's throne. She bit her lip to prevent the tears from stinging her eyes at the thought and listened intently to the announcement of the woman he had chosen to dance with tonight. It did not come as a surprise that he had chosen the Blonde elf, she looked beautiful in her light green gown that hugged her waist before flowing to the ground. It seemed to take a lifetime for them both to reach the dance floor, the harpist played a slow melody and the two proceeded to glide across the dance floor with the precision Blade and Éomer hadn't had. It killed her inside that she couldn't break Isadora's curse before her demise, that she couldn't make him see who he really was.
"Hunter", Ren's tall figure approached her in her solitude. He was dressed in a light coloured shirt with a dark waist length jacket over top. His hair was braided to keep it from disturbing his sight.
"He will not ask you to stay but I will", The man's statement forced a smile on her lips as she faced him.
"It cannot be your choice, Ren. It is his", Blade replied softly, placing her hand on his shoulder with comfort.
"You'll be missed by our people, Blade", He confessed in a hushed tone, embracing the woman in a soft hug. The Hunter appreciated his kindness but didn't relish in embracing someone with such likeness to her love. He offered her a dance but she politely refused, watching him walk back to the group of Rohirrim soldiers that conversed at a far table.
"It seems almost as if you are avoiding the celebration", Tyras voiced from beside her, making her flinch at his sudden appearance. It was unnerving to see him dressed in a dark red shirt and grey trousers under a waist length buckled jacket. She was so used to seeing him in that worn out long coat.
"I am enjoying the peace", She replied with a smirk. The Necromancer followed her line of sight and breathed out heavily, watching the king dance with the blonde elf.
"I lifted the spell off his memory", Tyras murmured silently, catching her attention.
"When?", Blade asked with suspicion, looking into his purple eyes for any trickery.
"When you were at rest...I can restore his memory but I cannot make him feel the same as he did...", His answer was something she was expecting to hear. She was not sure she wanted him to feel the same. Tyras moved from her side but she grasped his arm abruptly, he looked back to her with concern.
"...Thank you", She commended him with a forceful smirk. The necromancer opened his mouth to speak, breathing out a breath of air, glancing to the dance floor. He pitied the look in her eyes.
"Tell no one", Tyras spoke with a smile and nudged her toward the dance floor. The hunter furrowed her brows in question but followed along nonetheless.
"You mean to tell me you can dance?", Blade mused while taking up the correct dancing position.
"You can't?", His reply left her with no comment, smiling at his wit as the music resumed.
From his throne, Éomer could not help but watch Blade and Tyras dance together, it made a fire burn in his veins at the Necromancer's hands on the hunter, the woman who claimed to love him. The woman who had given him her heart...
He saw the shadow of his advisor taking the seat beside him but took no notice of the greying man. Something bothered him about Tyras, he seemed so familiar.
"The other Hunter is who she belongs with, he can give her what she seeks.", Freda's voice pierced the deafening silence.
"He is not a hunter, they banished her, she would never befriend one", Éomer spoke subconsciously, surprising himself at the information he had remembered.
Blade's thin fingers trailed down to a band of leather on her wrist that had been covered by the sleeve of her jacket, it seemed strange that he had not noticed it. It took her only a few moments to untie the band and place it by her side, revealing to him the underside of her wrist. Black lines crawled out from her wrist, they were faded but it was clear what the image was. It was the same symbol she had on the back of her jacket, the hunter's mark. Through the middle of the skull was two red scars that created an x through the image.
"X marks a traitor among hunters. Leanthar took my power, my birthright, and he left me to die.", Her voice was unfaltering, clashing eyes with the Third Marshal as his thumb traced the scar on her wrist.
"I imagine you intended the same fate for me", Her statement left him speechless in anger.
"You think I could be so cruel?",Éomer responded with disbelief.
"You would not get the chance", The hunter replied with a sly smirk.
"Lord Éomer", Freda snapped him from his sudden memory with concern.
"He's a Necromancer, summoner of the dead", Éomer replied without falter, meeting the Hunter's eyes as the melody ended and the two parted. From the moment the ghost of Blade's father appeared the King had suspected Tyras and he assumed Blade did too.
"Whatever he is, it is suited to the Hunter. She is no more fit to be anything more than a hunter than I am to be King.", Freda almost laughed, making Éomer's temper flare at his ignorant comment.
"Blade fought beside me in war, Freda, she protected our people, our land. Call her The Shadow Hunter of the East, Witch King Slayer, A savior of middle Earth...but do not compare her to yourself. She is more deserving than anyone...even me", Éomer replied with a harsh tone, silencing the man who sat beside him.
"I apologise, Lord Éomer", The man spoke with a mysterious smirk.
The Celebration had come to an end at the early hours of the morning, the Hunter watched the silhouettes of men drunkenly stumble down the Meduseld steps from the balcony of the Hall. The night held a cold chill that made her shiver under it's touch. Her tunic did not offer the warmth's of her jacket. Figures glided unknowingly beside her, blissfully ignorant to her existence. The darkness was something she had been exposed to, adapted to, it made her feel secure in the shield it gave her against mortals.
Footsteps approached her, heavy footsteps, followed by a metallic clang. It didn't faze her, she doubted they could see her under their drunken influence. A weight fell on her shoulder, She turned swiftly, holding her attacker by the collar, her arm across their throat. She raised her free hand, materializing a purple flame in her palm. A smirk met her lips at Éomer's unimpressed expression, letting him go.
"Éomer", She spoke in tone that sent a chill down his spine, putting out the flame.
"Do you still assume that Tyras is evil?", His question made her raise an eyebrow in suspicion, watching cautiously as he stood beside her, making her heart beat faster.
"...No...", Her reply made a lump form in his throat, crossing his arms over his chest.
"...He has the power to summon those creatures yet you are defiant that it is not him doing so?. Why has your opinion changed?", Éomer asked accusingly. Blade clenched her jaw with conflict, it was difficult to see him against the darkness. The Hunter raised her hand, lighting a torch that hung behind them. His eyes pleaded with her for an explanation, one she did not have.
"...He is Leanthar's son...",
The King scoffed instantaneously and looked back at her like she was delusional but her face did not falter.
"Your Brother?", He asked skeptically, looking at her under the light from the torch.
"Look at him and tell me otherwise", Her response silenced him. His eyes pierced her own with a look she didn't understand. The maroon shirt he wore was hemmed with gold tapestry at the collar, it blinded her under the torchlight, bringing a smile to her lips. The King furrowed his brow at her smile, trying to comprehend the possibility of Tyras' lineage.
"He is mischievous, be sure this isn't one of his ploys",
"I have known him for many years, his ploys do not involve such pettiness", Blade responded, leaning her elbows against the stone railing.
"It sounds almost as if you admire his work", Éomer turned his head toward her, mirroring her action.
"Tyras does not hold the capability to summon such echoes. The living shouldn't suffer the dead", The hunter ceased the next words from escaping his lips, he looked at her with a strange expression.
"What is dead should stay dead",Éomer repeated the words she had said on the battlefield.
"...Yes", Blade replied hesitantly under his gaze.
"You speak from experience", The King pried with curiosity, trying to divert his thoughts from his own troubles.
"The dead do not belong with the living, It is not for us to decide they do", The hunter spoke with a softness that surprised him. Her mind took her back to a time when she almost lost her life trying to bring Leon back, she would have done anything.
"This seems familiar", Éomer spoke against the cold wind, changing the conversation. She remembered being pestered by him a year ago on the same balcony, before the Battle at the Pellenor Fields.
"How does it feel to be King?", Blade responded without delay. So much had changed between their last meeting on the balcony. She watched him breath out deeply, resting his arms against the railing. It felt strange talking to him so casually.
"...Unfamiliar", He breathed out with exhaustion.
"You're doing well", The hunter patted his arm with restraint, resting her arms by her side.
"I have to make a decision by the end of the week...which woman to marry", Blade breathed out deeply, feeling her eyes start to sting. She looked away, blinking away the tears and met his eyes once more.
"How many have you met?", She asked with a fake interest and a strong voice.
"8", His reply did not come as a surprise.
"Which of the eight is the most interesting?", Her voice was soft, sincere.
"...They're all beautiful but their beauty it...", Éomer searched hopelessly for the words to describe his frustration.
"-Is made obsolete by the ignorance of their words?", Blade finished his sentence like she could read his mind. He breathed out a chuckle, watching her hands pry at a loose stone on the railing, revealing the underside of her wrist where her tattoo crept up from her sleeve. The faded lines brought his mind back to his lips on hers minutes after he had confronted her about the scar on her wrist. Relishing the feeling of euphoria in her kiss. Blade glanced to him with a questioning look at his staring that sent a chill up her spine.
"Should I be expecting more creatures like the one today?", The king asked in a hushed tone.
"It would be comforting to be able to say no", The hunter shifted in her spot, staring up at the moonlight.
"...but the creature cannot hurt you unless you are an object of desire", She replied, trying to provide some clarity to his troubled mind.
"You think I am only concerned about the welfare of myself?", He scoffed with annoyance, turning toward her.
"I think you are concerned with the welfare of your people", Blade reasoned without delay, returning his piercing glare.
"Whether it is clear to you or not, you have become one of my people, Blade...no matter how hard you try to escape", She saw something underlying in his glare that reflected the glossy white outline of the full moon.
"You fought by my side in War, Éomer, but this is not war. This...this is the end and I won't allow you to partake", The hunter's harsh answer made his jaw clench in anger and anguish. Her reaction almost matched his own, it made a pang of guilt rattle through his core. She looked almost unfazed but her eyes gave her away.
"You returned for a reason, now you will leave only to die", His cruel hushed words made her decision all the harder to commit to. She could not stay. She had made a mistake by returning.
"I was holding onto strings better left to fray and for that Tyras was almost killed, your people were threatened", Blade replied with his same hushed tone. She watched his face change at her words, he was angry with no right to be so. He didn't feel for her what he had hoped he would. He remembered the time when he did but it was distant in his mind, seeming like a lifetime ago. While it wasn't love, he felt something.
He looked away from the hunter, afraid his face would show the weakness he felt. He wanted anything but for her to leave. Blade watched his anger fade into a dull expression that she didn't understand. His head dropped lower as he leaned against the railing. She noticed the silver object that had come untucked from his shirt, her pendent, a sign of her love. He had held onto it.
Blade grasped his hand lightly, providing little comfort to the way he felt. He didn't look at her but squeezed her hand weakly.
"Do not look so guilty, Rohan. Isadora saved your life", Her words didn't comfort him, they did the opposite. How could she think that?
Just as she attempted to walk away she was harshly pulled back by her arm, almost running into his chest at the speed he approached her.
"Never say that", His words were laced with the vulnerability he felt from hearing that woman's name again. He spoke close to her face, making his words unmistakable. She was surprised and unsuspecting of his sudden outburst. She felt the warmth between their closeness, saw the fire in his eyes. It was the closest he had been in a long time.
"It is the truth, whether it is pleasant or not", Blade placed her hand on his cheek, coercing him to look at her. He couldn't, not without revealing his weakness. He placed his hand over hers and leaned closer. It gave her hope where there should have been none but that hope was soon stripped away.
"Lord Éomer", A woman's voice echoed against the darkness, breaking their moment. Blade stepped back into the darkness as the blonde elf wandered toward The King, she offered him her hand, leading him back to the Hall. Blade saw a smile form on his lips at the woman's words as he held her hand tight. The elf was the one, the one he would marry. It gave The Hunter a sickening feeling in her chest.
