in which the witch of the wilds has spent her whole life avoiding the prophecised true king of gondor until he shows up on her doorstep with four hobbits, an elf, a dwarf, a warrior and an old wizard with a sparkle in his eyes and asks her to join t...
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HER SATCHEL beats against her fleshy thigh.
The dress she wears has started to tear against the roots of the trees they are stumbling over, but with the amount of thread she has tucked away in this magical bag, it is most likely that she can tear every dress she has brought and still have enough thread to sew up any wounds that might appear on one of her fellow travellers' bodies. She doesn't bother to lift the dress as she crosses over a mossy, muddy puddle that appears in front of her, instead stepping right into the marsh so that her calf-length boots make an awful squelching noise.
The entire party stops to turn and look at her.
They have been travelling without rest for two days. The muscles running along the entire length of both legs beginning to ache, crying out for the chance to stop moving for all of an hour. When one of them brings up the ache in their legs, however, they are quickly quietened by the King-to-be in his attempt to reach their road quicker. She grits her teeth as they begin walking again. How long will it take until he decides they have suffered enough under the rule of his thumb?
The youngest of the four hobbits lets out a stifled cry as he stumbles over a tree root he had not caught sight of quick enough. They stop again to make sure he is alright, but there is a considerable gash running along his uncovered foot and so Gandalf, the obvious choice for ruler, decides that it is finally time for them to stop.
They all collapse at once to the ground, laying their backs against the thickest trunks they can find within eye distance, pulling off their boots so they can stretch their toes. All that can be heard for a moment is the sound of bones cracking into place and the satisfied sigh that goes along with it.
Yseult, however, drops to her knees in front of Pippin and reaches for his foot. He shies away at first, unused to the gentle hands of a human woman, but finally allows her to touch him so she can check out the nasty mess that has been made of him by an unmoving tree.
She orders Merry and Samwise to hold him back as she reaches into the bag at her side. The other Fellowship members watch her as she rustles through the satchel that looks no bigger than the width of her forearm but is obviously very deep if it can swallow up the entire length of her arm with no worries.
Moments later, she is pulling out two palm-sized jars that they had not heard clinking around in there before.
"Will it hurt?" Pippin asks, staring up at her with wide eyes. She has also managed to pull out a piece of cloth and some white coloured fabric that seems to have no meaning other than to be used to bandage wounds. None of them can quite understand where she is getting all of these supplies from when they all watched her fill her bag with multi-coloured dresses and some food for them to share.
