Disclaimer: Wakabe Writing Firm doesn't own
A/N: She's done it. Natsumi... has joined the bandwagon of mama bear writers. I blame this on Samwise Gamgee and his skillet, stories about women who beat the crap out of anyone who threatens their kid, and the planned purchase of a 10" skillet for when Natsumi goes walking alone at night. Be afraid.
Anyways,thanks for reading and please review.- Isuzu (Ghost Secretary, Wakabe Writing Firm)
The man was an idiot, and he was going to die. That was the only coherent thought Lady Gilraen had as she saw the coward of a man press a blade to her son's throat, his large storm blue eyes even larger now with fear, wet with (as of yet) unshed tears and pupils so small that she couldn't see them as shes stood stalk still, hidden from view by a wall of trees where they'd made camp. She knew from what she could glimpse, that Elladan and Elrohir had drawn their swords, though they'd not yet made a move against the man, and would not until Estel was safe.
And quite frankly, Gilraen didn't have the time, patience or desire to wait for one of them to get him to safety with that knife too close to her child, pressing to hard to his soft skin. The frying pan held in her hands was in a stone hard grip, still slightly wet from the stream she'd left camp to go wash it in. And it might not be a sword, but it would do.
She stalked the edge of the camp, her eyes ablaze with a fury not seen in even the hottest forge, face colder than the snow covered mountains, jaw set firmly as she made her way around. She didnt' listen to the conversation taking place, the sound of her own heartbeat and her child's soft hiccups and cries drowning out all other noise and talk.
"If you don't give me what I want, then this child is of no use to me."
Except that.
Emerging from the trees like a specter, she raised her pan high and just as he raised his knife to slice into the (still baby soft and delicate and fragile) skin of her child, she struck.
BONK!
At the first blow, he released her child, knife dropping just a little too close to her baby as he took off running for the safety of his brothers. But still her fury was not satisfied and in retribution for the nightmares to come, she raised her weapon again.
"YOU!"
SLAM!
"WILL NOT!"
BANG
"TOUCH!"
CRUNCH
"MY!"
SNAP
"CHILD!"
The man feebly attempted to defend himself, brought his arms up to try and save his face, but all that did was increase the power behind Gilraen's blows until at last she broke his nose after bloodying his face and left him unconscious on the forest floor, with a warrior woman above him, pan still paised as she debated over whether another hit would be worth the energy.
"Mama?"
Lady Gilraen took a deep, deep breath and forced her rage back behind it's caged door, locking it up tight so that when her eyes opened again, no sign of the anger and protectiveness from before even sparkled in her eyes.
Swiftly, she crossed the distance between her child and the man she'd beaten blood and unconscious, dropping the skillet and plucking her baby from Elrohir.
"Let's go home," she said as she went back to the camp to gather her things together.
The twins stared shell shocked.
"And take care of that, would you?" The look in her eyes as she talked to them sent violent and cold shivers down their backs as they jumped to do as she'd asked, neither willing to risk her anger.
And thus the twins were (re) educated about the important rule concerning mothers: Never threaten her child.
So yeah, I've jumped on the bandwagon for skillet wielding warriors (the many, many warriors with an ever growing number of members). I have no regrets at this point.
So what did you think?