Disclaimer: I still don't own anything.
A/N. I'm baaaaaaaacccccckkkkkk!!!!!!!! Hey it's me! This chapter has been a LONG time coming. Thanks so much for the reviews. They have really kept me going. Please read my new story "The Letter." It's got a little more mystery in it. Again, thank you for reading!
Lothiriel's head was spinning. Her vision swam in her eyes, and she was vaguely aware of blood trickling down her face. She blindly reached for the bottom of her skirts and mopped up the blood on her cheeks. She only had one thing on her mind: escape.
Somehow in his fury, Damrod had unbound her hands and thrown her across the room. But now he was gone, and this was her chance to run.
Her legs were shaking as she stood unevenly. She stumbled towards the back of the tent and peeked outside. Damrod's camp was nothing short of chaos. Men were everywhere, finding armor and horses, sharpening weapons, and talking battle strategy. She could overhear snippets of conversation as soldiers passed by.
"…tired of waiting…"
"…must be on alert…"
"…five hundred men…"
"…Rohan, Dol Amroth, Gondor, Ithilien…"
"…five hundred men…"
"…just beyond that hill…"
Lothiriel's swollen eyes followed the direction the soldier's were pointing. There, just beyond the hillside, she could make out the flickering lights of another camp. She knew that escape would be most ideal now, while Damrod's camp was in disarray. Picking up her skirts, she began to follow the trail.
~
Eomer sat alone in his tent, briefly contemplating Aragorn's plan. Damrod's camp was set in a small valley, a massive mistake on his part. Aragorn had sent some troops around to the other side of the valley. They would storm into the camp from one side, driving Damrod and his men into another wall of troops. Faramir was preparing a small group of Riders to become a search party for Lothiriel. While the battle was raging, these men were trained to find the Princess.
Eomer closed his eyes. This was pure agony, this waiting. His friends had urged him to have patience, but it was quickly running out. He needed to feel Lothiriel in his arms again, to look into her eyes and reaffirm their feelings. He needed her.
Eomer could feel tears threatening then, and shook his head quickly. He had not cried during this ordeal, and he would not start now. Sighing, he began dressing for bed.
~
Even though her journey was short, Lothiriel had to stop midway up the hill. Every muscle in her body was screaming in pain. Her eyes were beginning to swell shut, and the cut on her cheek was bleeding again. Blood was sliding freely down the backs of her legs, making her realize she had been whipped. He back was bruised from being knocked down. Her hands were shaking from lack of food.
She tried to lean against a tree, and nearly yelped in pain. She was breathing hard, a cold sweat on her brow. Only one thought was keeping her moving, the thought that Eomer could be just beyond that hill. She looked up again at the camp, and caught the slightest glimpse of the white horse upon green. She began to stumble up the hill.
~
Damrod threw back the flap to Lothiriel's tent. He planned to use her as a bargaining chip. If his plan failed, he would just kill her.
But right now, she was not there. Damrod's eyes quickly found where the back tent flap had been pushed aside. His lips curled into a sneer. She would not escape. He had taken her once, and he would take her again. He summoned five soldiers.
"The girl has decided to run," he said coldly. "Find her. Now."
"But my lord," one guard said anxiously, "how will we find her?"
"Easy," Damrod replied shortly. "Just follow the trail of blood."
~
Lothiriel stumbled into the camp. There were a few soldiers milling about, so she stayed in the shadows, determined to find Eomer. By now she was nearly delirious with pain. Her vision was so blurred that she could barely stand upright. Once again seeing the white horse upon green, she tumbled inside Eomer's tent.