He doesn't have to wait long for some measure of satisfaction, although he may have to look closely to catch it before she schools her features back to stone. In that moment, though, when she sees him in the crowd and hears him shout his bid, Éowyn blanches and her jaw tightens, her hands clenching into fists until she feels the nails bite the skin. She had begun to think that she no longer feared him, that she had moved past what he had done to her.
She had thought wrong. Cold fear drops like a stone into the pit of her stomach, and blossoms almost at once into a fury and hate that is enough to make her tremble where she stands, white-knuckles and taut-jawed. For a moment, she can't tear her eyes off him, and in those eyes burns a murderous hatred, raw and almost feral.
The bids are starting to thin out now, as the price rises beyond what casual buyers are willing to pay. Éowyn stands perfectly still, like a carving in marble, except for the trembling tension of her clenched fists. She listens, and waits for the moment when AM's interest will wane, when he'll drop out of the bidding.
But that moment doesn't come, and when the auctioneer's hammer comes down - "Sold! To the tall gentleman!" - Éowyn's stomach twists. She jerks a little, as if she might be sick then and there, all the colour draining from her save the two hectic spots of red on her high cheekbones, and then she turns on her heel and strides off the stage, her expression thunderous as she pushes past the LIES staff at the bottom of the steps. She seems to have entirely forgotten her own nakedness, carried away by righteous fury.
"Give me my sword," she tells them, her voice carrying, sharp with rage. "I will play your game no further. Give me my fucking sword!"
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sforzinda
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Date: 2019-08-07 06:47 pm (UTC)She had thought wrong. Cold fear drops like a stone into the pit of her stomach, and blossoms almost at once into a fury and hate that is enough to make her tremble where she stands, white-knuckles and taut-jawed. For a moment, she can't tear her eyes off him, and in those eyes burns a murderous hatred, raw and almost feral.
The bids are starting to thin out now, as the price rises beyond what casual buyers are willing to pay. Éowyn stands perfectly still, like a carving in marble, except for the trembling tension of her clenched fists. She listens, and waits for the moment when AM's interest will wane, when he'll drop out of the bidding.
But that moment doesn't come, and when the auctioneer's hammer comes down - "Sold! To the tall gentleman!" - Éowyn's stomach twists. She jerks a little, as if she might be sick then and there, all the colour draining from her save the two hectic spots of red on her high cheekbones, and then she turns on her heel and strides off the stage, her expression thunderous as she pushes past the LIES staff at the bottom of the steps. She seems to have entirely forgotten her own nakedness, carried away by righteous fury.
"Give me my sword," she tells them, her voice carrying, sharp with rage. "I will play your game no further. Give me my fucking sword!"