#ofgreatstrength

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At first, when she opened her eyes, Eowyn couldn’t remember exactly what had happened or why she was laying down. Her limbs felt heavy and when she tried to move she felt a weakness unlike she had ever known.

Except for in her shoulder.  That pain was a heavy weight and it burned a bit even as she took in a breath of air. She closed her eyes again as memories crashed over her.

Theoden, dead. The Witch King trying to finish him off and her own sword in his head aided by Merry’s dagger in the leg destroying him.

She heard a voice and turned her head, eyes brimming with tears as she recognized both face and voice of the one closest to her after Eomer.

“Percival.” She managed a soft smile. “You live.”

“I’m peaceful!” Crystal exclaimed raising her hands and looking up fearfully at the stranger stood in front of her with their sword raised.

“I got it!” Ella said, from her spot precariously balancing on the very top of the chair, holding a small bag of herbs. She noticed Percival standing at the doorway, “Oh hello!.”

“So...on a scale from ice cream for dinner to kicked out of the house for a few days...how mad are you? Because I swear I totally did not realise that guy was a cop when I punched him, but he kinda took a swing at me first so...technically I was just reacting to that but...”

And this was why Mal didn’t do ‘family’, because she was so used to her mother beating her when she got things wrong. She was trying to be good, she really was, but it was just so...hard.

    Camelot is a difficult place, but she’s grateful the King has     taken to her story quite well - it gives her free reign to come     and go while she tries to fashion the proper tools to fix her      ship - if only she’d landed somewhere more . . . PROGRESSED.

 She’s in the middle of trying to figure out how to borrow a piece of armour from the armory when she hears footsteps, and she tries hard not to look SUSPICIOUS.

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“Do not think to get me to leave you, again, Percival, for it will not happen,” Eowyn said firmly even while she bound his arm as quickly as she could. He was someone that she held very close to her and she would not lose him as she had already lost far too many in her life. “You will get on my horse and you will ride.”

She did not know how close their pursuers were who had wounded him, but she would take the risk to fight. “I can wield sword as Eomer and Theodred taught me.”

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Guinevere shook her head, even as she bent closer to examine his wound. "What lady of worth would I be if I did not aid the pain of those loyal to me, Percival?"

Her question was a gentle one even as she reached for the pouch within her cloak. "We need to do something to slow the bleeding, good knight, or we will not get very far."

We because there was no way Hell that she was leaving him behind.