The blood drying on her cheek from the arterial splatter of the last orc she slew is itching, but Éomer makes no move to wipe it away. All she would do is smear even more blood on herself, most likely, as her gloves have a fair amount soaked into the leather, as does the rest of her armor. She is not in the habit of being laughed at, especially not when dressed in full armor, with a sword hung at her hip and her horse snorting angrily over her shoulder.
Steve Rogers quickly shifts from mirthful skepticism to something much more conciliatory, but Éomer's hackles are slow to settle, and she does not stop frowning distrustfully at him. The Rohirrim do not lie, and are skilled at sensing deception in others; he seems sincere, both in his apology and his subsequent explanation, but she has a reputation to maintain and an image to uphold in front of her men, and she has had a difficult week.
"How did you come here, Steve Rogers?" she asks, instead of accepting his apology or acknowledging his flattery. "What magic do you wield to appear as if from the air itself?"
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Date: 2019-05-13 04:41 am (UTC)Steve Rogers quickly shifts from mirthful skepticism to something much more conciliatory, but Éomer's hackles are slow to settle, and she does not stop frowning distrustfully at him. The Rohirrim do not lie, and are skilled at sensing deception in others; he seems sincere, both in his apology and his subsequent explanation, but she has a reputation to maintain and an image to uphold in front of her men, and she has had a difficult week.
"How did you come here, Steve Rogers?" she asks, instead of accepting his apology or acknowledging his flattery. "What magic do you wield to appear as if from the air itself?"