Disclaimer: I do not own this. What is more, I am deeply, deeply, sorry for doing this to these poor characters. Except Maeluiwen, who is mine and deserves everything she gets.
The Four Hunters moved swiftly over the plains of Rohan. Maeluiwen had decided that there should be 'no hard feelings' between her and Aragorn, and thus was explaining to him, at great length, her theories on sexual equality.
Gimli frowned. "Why haven't you killed her yet?"
"Why should I?" said Legolas "She's useful. Good fighter, does that whole magic-thingy, her nipples glow blue when orcs are about... as long as I don't look directly at the hair, I can tolerate her. Besides, watching Aragorn suffer is fun."
"Agreed. Although I could do without the singing."
"And the metal underwear."
"Now, now, Master Elf. That's traditional Dwarf-wear, that is. Good quality mithril too. When you eventually get round to killing her, I bags salvage rights."
Legolas nodded. "Fair 'nough. By Eru, this scenery is boring. Grass, rocks. Grass, rocks. Oh, and more grass."
"Which is different from trees, trees, and more trees, how?"
"I do not intend to dignify that with an answer."
-----
"I think this is what we call a diplomatic incident."
"Really?" asked Gandalf. "In the old days we would call that a floor show."
Aragorn pouted. "Legolas, do something!"
"Six bottle minimum, half up front. Else do it yourself."
As Eowyn, being of a similar mindset to Maeluiwen, also carried a great deal of weaponry on her person, there was a certain amount of clumsiness and clanking going on. This didn't seem to be hindering the enjoyment of either the two main participants, or the majority of the spectators, with the exception of Eomer, who had turned a brighter red than Maeluiwen's hair, and Grima, who seemed torn between drooling and fuming.
Finally Theoden snapped out of whatever trance he was in.
"Eowyn, go to your room. Take your little friend, and don't come out until the war's over."
"But Uncle Theoden! You can't let her…"
"Shut up, Eomer"
-----
Eowyn's room was littered with heaps of discarded weaponry and the obligatory mithril undergarments, but coincidentally, there was a clear line of sight from the bed to a nearby open window.
If either Eowyn or Maeluiwen had been paying any attention to their surroundings (and I shall leave you, gentle reader, to imagine what else may have been occupying their attention), then this is what they might have heard:
"Mutter, mutter… Why does everyone dislike me? Just because I'm evil. And also not so much with the personal hygiene, but Aragorn's not exactly in a position to talk. Mutter, scheme, mutter, plot…"
It was, indeed, the intrepid Grima, who had crept back into Edoras while Theoden and Aragorn were arguing about which one of them was more kingly. He'd also laid his hands on a blowgun and a set of darts tipped with Ye Olde Poisonous Poison, one of Gandalf's little side endeavours when the fireworks market was a bit sluggish.
It was also coincidental, but entirely convenient, that Maeluiwen's back was turned to the window. Grima may have been a scumbag, a low down, dirty, rotten, peverted traitor, and so on and so forth, but he was also a damn good shot.
One dart flew directly to target - one of Maeluiwen's overly-pert buttocks, the one with the unusual birthmark in the shape of a mallorn leaf - and Grima slipped back out of the city, considering his work well done.
Ye Olde Poisonous Poison is both fast acting, and relatively painful. Maeluiwen's shrieks of agony quickly brought half of Edoras to the room, if not to her aid.
"Well, that was… interesting."
"Hmm. Bags her underwear."
"Like anyone else would want it, Gimli."
Eowyn, after a brief but intense mourning period lasting all of five minutes, pulled on her riding clothes, her helmet, and her sword.
"That's it. I'm going to war, and you can't stop me!"
By this point, though, nobody really gave a damn.
------
Epilogue One:
Maeluiwen's corpse was disposed of by one of the local townsfolk, an old woman who buried it in her garden. She subsequently reaped a harvest of multi-coloured, hallucinogenic tomatoes, which she sold on the black market for a fortune, and then retired to a wee cottage on the coast by Dol Amroth.
Eowyn fought bravely in the War of the Ring, and found new love in the form of the valiant Faramir. They married soon afterwards, although he still can't work out why she keeps suggesting he grow his hair long.
Galadriel never recovered from the traumatic 'talan incident', and left for Valinor at the end of the war. Celeborn chose to stay, after realising he couldn't continue to threaten Aragorn from that far away.
Gandalf and the Balrog still aren't talking to each other.
Arwen married Aragorn Elessar Telcontar, he of many names, and they lived happily ever after.
He still won't let her call one of their daughters 'Maeluiwen'.
And Glorfindel?
-----
Epilogue Two:
Elrond dumped two packages in front of Glorfindel.
"One from young Pippin, one from Mirk.. I mean, Eryn Lasgalen. Anything interesting?"
"No, of course not." Glorfindel snuck a peep at the thick envelope Pippin had left him, and raised an eyebrow. Right, that'd go to Cirdan, then. He was into all that wacky stuff.
"Fine then, don't tell me." Elrond flounced out, only turning back at the door to say.
"And for Eru's sake, put a shirt on. It's making me cold just looking at you."
Glorfindel did not put a shirt on. But when Elrond was safely gone he began to carefully unwrap the second package. Beneath the plain brown wrapping, was a large box labelled 'Gwalothiel's Secret'.
Glorfindel grinned. "Oh, Erestor…"
And the rest, as they say…
The End…. Or Is It?
The Four Hunters moved swiftly over the plains of Rohan. Maeluiwen had decided that there should be 'no hard feelings' between her and Aragorn, and thus was explaining to him, at great length, her theories on sexual equality.
Gimli frowned. "Why haven't you killed her yet?"
"Why should I?" said Legolas "She's useful. Good fighter, does that whole magic-thingy, her nipples glow blue when orcs are about... as long as I don't look directly at the hair, I can tolerate her. Besides, watching Aragorn suffer is fun."
"Agreed. Although I could do without the singing."
"And the metal underwear."
"Now, now, Master Elf. That's traditional Dwarf-wear, that is. Good quality mithril too. When you eventually get round to killing her, I bags salvage rights."
Legolas nodded. "Fair 'nough. By Eru, this scenery is boring. Grass, rocks. Grass, rocks. Oh, and more grass."
"Which is different from trees, trees, and more trees, how?"
"I do not intend to dignify that with an answer."
-----
"I think this is what we call a diplomatic incident."
"Really?" asked Gandalf. "In the old days we would call that a floor show."
Aragorn pouted. "Legolas, do something!"
"Six bottle minimum, half up front. Else do it yourself."
As Eowyn, being of a similar mindset to Maeluiwen, also carried a great deal of weaponry on her person, there was a certain amount of clumsiness and clanking going on. This didn't seem to be hindering the enjoyment of either the two main participants, or the majority of the spectators, with the exception of Eomer, who had turned a brighter red than Maeluiwen's hair, and Grima, who seemed torn between drooling and fuming.
Finally Theoden snapped out of whatever trance he was in.
"Eowyn, go to your room. Take your little friend, and don't come out until the war's over."
"But Uncle Theoden! You can't let her…"
"Shut up, Eomer"
-----
Eowyn's room was littered with heaps of discarded weaponry and the obligatory mithril undergarments, but coincidentally, there was a clear line of sight from the bed to a nearby open window.
If either Eowyn or Maeluiwen had been paying any attention to their surroundings (and I shall leave you, gentle reader, to imagine what else may have been occupying their attention), then this is what they might have heard:
"Mutter, mutter… Why does everyone dislike me? Just because I'm evil. And also not so much with the personal hygiene, but Aragorn's not exactly in a position to talk. Mutter, scheme, mutter, plot…"
It was, indeed, the intrepid Grima, who had crept back into Edoras while Theoden and Aragorn were arguing about which one of them was more kingly. He'd also laid his hands on a blowgun and a set of darts tipped with Ye Olde Poisonous Poison, one of Gandalf's little side endeavours when the fireworks market was a bit sluggish.
It was also coincidental, but entirely convenient, that Maeluiwen's back was turned to the window. Grima may have been a scumbag, a low down, dirty, rotten, peverted traitor, and so on and so forth, but he was also a damn good shot.
One dart flew directly to target - one of Maeluiwen's overly-pert buttocks, the one with the unusual birthmark in the shape of a mallorn leaf - and Grima slipped back out of the city, considering his work well done.
Ye Olde Poisonous Poison is both fast acting, and relatively painful. Maeluiwen's shrieks of agony quickly brought half of Edoras to the room, if not to her aid.
"Well, that was… interesting."
"Hmm. Bags her underwear."
"Like anyone else would want it, Gimli."
Eowyn, after a brief but intense mourning period lasting all of five minutes, pulled on her riding clothes, her helmet, and her sword.
"That's it. I'm going to war, and you can't stop me!"
By this point, though, nobody really gave a damn.
------
Epilogue One:
Maeluiwen's corpse was disposed of by one of the local townsfolk, an old woman who buried it in her garden. She subsequently reaped a harvest of multi-coloured, hallucinogenic tomatoes, which she sold on the black market for a fortune, and then retired to a wee cottage on the coast by Dol Amroth.
Eowyn fought bravely in the War of the Ring, and found new love in the form of the valiant Faramir. They married soon afterwards, although he still can't work out why she keeps suggesting he grow his hair long.
Galadriel never recovered from the traumatic 'talan incident', and left for Valinor at the end of the war. Celeborn chose to stay, after realising he couldn't continue to threaten Aragorn from that far away.
Gandalf and the Balrog still aren't talking to each other.
Arwen married Aragorn Elessar Telcontar, he of many names, and they lived happily ever after.
He still won't let her call one of their daughters 'Maeluiwen'.
And Glorfindel?
-----
Epilogue Two:
Elrond dumped two packages in front of Glorfindel.
"One from young Pippin, one from Mirk.. I mean, Eryn Lasgalen. Anything interesting?"
"No, of course not." Glorfindel snuck a peep at the thick envelope Pippin had left him, and raised an eyebrow. Right, that'd go to Cirdan, then. He was into all that wacky stuff.
"Fine then, don't tell me." Elrond flounced out, only turning back at the door to say.
"And for Eru's sake, put a shirt on. It's making me cold just looking at you."
Glorfindel did not put a shirt on. But when Elrond was safely gone he began to carefully unwrap the second package. Beneath the plain brown wrapping, was a large box labelled 'Gwalothiel's Secret'.
Glorfindel grinned. "Oh, Erestor…"
And the rest, as they say…
The End…. Or Is It?