Chapter Eleven
The Women's Battle
"Oh, look out, Lady Eowyn!" Freyda, one of the court ladies, watched as her lady's enemy snuck up behind her, weapon in hand.
"Mina's right behind you!" Gwyneth pointed and Eowyn whirled, squeezing the plush sponge so the soap exploded out of it, splashing Mina. Mina squealed and threw her hands up over her face, and slipped in the puddle of water from their game.
"Eowyn! Not my face!" She landed on her bum in the puddle. "Oh, oh, you win." She struggled to her feet, wringing out her sodden skirt. "You win, Eowyn, love." Both women collapsed against each other, hysterical with laughter.
"What a battle," Eowyn murmured through her giggles.
"That was a battle?"
Both women flipped their sopping wet, soapy hair out of their faces to regard the five men watching them. Mina's eyes fell immediately to Eomer, his golden hair flying banner-like in the wind, his full mouth smiling through his rough, red-gold beard, dark eyes twinkling as they drank in the sight of her.
"It was indeed a valorous and terrible undertaking!" Legolas, standing near the end of the line of them, stood with his arms crossed over his chest, grinning widely. "I applaud both of you brave warrior women!" Said women bowed at the waist, laughing as they approached the men.
"Did you see the flaw in my strategy, Aragorn? Somehow, I was forced to surrender." Mina said as she wrung out her hair. "I'm gonna have to wash that tonight."
"Will you be requiring assistance?" Eomer asked. An innocent might think he meant did she want him to send a maid to her, but she knew better. His gaze was far too hot as it caressed her face, took in her soaking wet hair and the wet dress that clung to every luscious curve of her body.
"I… I might." She swallowed hard, and the way the column of her throat worked as she swallowed made him smile, made the flame in his eyes blaze hotter. "If it's not too much trouble." He stepped forward, tucked a dark, wet curl behind her ear.
"No trouble, my lady."
Mina, my lady, oh, beautiful one…. His hands on himself, thrusting into his own two hands, desperate for fulfillment, for release from the dream of her flesh, her mouth, her eyes, her soft lips, her silken hair. She swallowed again, her cheeks turning pink. She nodded once, briskly, and replied, "Thank you, my lord. Eowyn, dear heart, perhaps we should go inside. It's a bit windy, we wouldn't want to catch cold."
"Oh, it's warming up," Aragorn said. "Let's sit on the steps. We brought food." Both women eyed the basket of food on Gimli's arm and grinned happily before murmuring, "All right."
oo8oo8oo8oo
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