Here it is- THE FIGHT SCENE! Bloody well time, too...Fanfic was down yesterday, otherwise it would have been up yesterday.
Lots of love to Angoliel, who helped loads and even put up with my refusal to change the name of Boro's sis...I love you!
Don't own it, will never own it...see previous for disclaimers.
Boromir, Steward of Arnor and Prince of the Northland, peered over the city of his birth, smiling. Gradually, the scars from the battle of the Pelennor fields were melting back into the city as newer stone carved from the heart of the mountains rebuilt the city. There was a rustling of skirts from behind him, and he turned to see Éowyn. He smiled, inclining his head in greeting to his brother's new wife.
"Good afternoon, Brother. Will you join me for a walk? Faramir is in council again, and I desire company. This city is lonely with out a friend to walk with, and I am still a stranger here." She said, in lieu of an apology. Boromir nodded.
"The lady wife of my brother should not feel an alien in her husband's city. I will walk with you."
They strode quietly through the corridors, neither caring much to say anything. Eventually, their feet lead them to the open windows that over looked the gardens on the level below. There was a soft cooing, and Éowyn smiled.
"I think we've found Rhoswen, Boromir." Both of them crossed to the other side of the hallway to pass into the walled courtyard.
Boromir looked over the gardens, savoring the smell of newly grown leaves, just opening buds. The gardens were a riot of color, bright green leaves and flowers of every shade over-spilling in untamed clumps. His eyes slid over the gardens with pride, but not half as much satisfaction filled his heart as when he saw Rhoswen, sitting in the shade of an apple tree, cooing over their twin children in their basket on the bench next to her.
Éowyn left his side to go coo over the two little ones with her. Rhoswen looked up as her sister in law laid a hand on her shoulder, looking across the garden and smiling at her husband.
Someone cleared his throat behind him, and Boromir turned to see Ambassador Agrad peering intently at the two women.
"Ambassador," Boromir said curtly, coldly, turning back to look at the flowers. He disliked the man intensely; he had ever since the day in council when he had openly invoked Éowyn's anger in saying that women were weak. Ever since then, the weasel-like man had made sure that all women were banned from council meetings, and sneered at the slightest mention of any praise to the women of Minas Tirith.
"Look at them-throwing away all sense of age at a child." He scoffed. Boromir's nostrils flared as he took a deep breath through his nose, turning to the Ambassador.
"What is it that makes you so cold? In Gondor, a child is a thing to celebrate, a new life that needs to be cared for, yet you treat the matter as if you were talking of breeding sheep." His voice was low, trying not to let his wife overhear.
The ambassador chuckled.
"I am sorry, my lord...I forget that in Gondor, a man has only one wife by which he may sire children...In Harad, a man may take many wives, and so may have many children...it makes no difference when another is born."
"We do not treat our women like cattle in Gondor, Ambassador...perhaps that is why we do not get along." Boromir said carefully.
"Perhaps." the ambassador smiled silkily. "Or perhaps it is that you desire a lifestyle like the one I lead...surrounded by beautiful woman, and a choice on who to take to bed each night." His eyes glittered, snakelike. He knew he had touched a nerve.
"You said when we first met that women are weak," Boromir said, his voice rising. "Perhaps it is so in Harad, where they allow themselves to be treated like livestock, but in Gondor it is not so. Your women hide behind their veils; ours do not. Ours seek reknown on the field of battle. Look you-that woman is Éowyn, and if you have listened to the harpers in our halls, she killed the lord of Nazgul, a task no mere man could do. The woman next to her-that is my lady wife. This week past she labored many hours to birth my two fine children,"
The ambassador scoffed. "Women bear our children, nothing more...just as your wife does..." he smiled his snakelike grin again, and Boromir's temper flamed.
"Look you well on that face, sire and you will see there the brunt of a burden that many of your men will not see in their entire lives. She waited dutifully for nearly a year for my return from the Quest to Mount Doom, and took her burden silently as she was brought news of my supposed demise, keeping her head tall so our people would not lose faith. She was not trained for that-but she was not sheltered to it, either."
The Ambassador was at a loss for words. Éowyn and Rhoswen, who had been listening intently to Boromir, stared at the two men, wondering who would speak next. The ambassador smiled shakily.
"You must also recall that when I first met you I said something concerning the discipline of women...perhaps your women are in need of more of it if they ride with your men. It does not do to have a wild concubine in the bedchamber."
Éowyn stood and strode over to the ferret like man, glaring at him.
"My husband is not here to restrain me this time, Ambassador, and I should very much like to rip you limb from limb to limb for that comment. If you think that Gondorian woman will be insulted like this, think again. I challenge you to a duel, for my honor and that of every woman in this kingdom. We are not treated like stud mares as yours are, and I for one refuse to be insulted for it!"
Now the ambassador was scared, backing up a little in the formidable face of Éowyn Wraithbane.
"Your challenge is accepted." He said, his voice straining not to tremble.
"And don't expect to win, Ambassador-I am a shield maiden of Rohan, and no mere weakling stranger with a sword. Meet me in two hours in the practice courts." She swiveled on her heel and left, blonde hair flowing free behind her.
Faramir ran to catch up with his brother, lower councilors milling around the doors to the king's study.
"Boromir, the word in the halls is that my dear wife has challenged the Ambassador Agrad to a duel..."
"It was coming sooner or later." The elder brother said shortly, not wanting to miss any of the action as he strode purposefully towards the practice courts. Faramir's expression turned incredulous.
"You mean to tell me it's true?"
"Yes, I do, brother, and if we hurry, we can see your wife finish off that weasel." Boromir growled.
"But that would only serve to strain relations between the tribes and Gondor!"
"Faramir, think about this for a moment. Since the day he arrived, our dear friend the ambassador has insulted our women at every chance he can. Éowyn is making him pay back in blood."
The two brothers arrived in time to see Éowyn beginning her stretches, a small crowd gathering around the fenced yard. Faramir and Boromir pushed their way through the crowd, stepping to the side of the fence. Éowyn hefted her sword a few times, slicing the air with a sharp 'fwoop'. She saw her husband, and rushed over to give him a quick peck on the cheek.
"Éowyn, dear, the men are saying that you-" his wife cut Faramir off mid sentence.
"Challenged our good friend the ambassador to a trial by sword?- They told you right. And here he comes now..." she turned to gaze with eagle eyes at her opponent, who had in his two hours swapped his long robes for a pair of loose fitting trousers and a tunic without sleeves, showing off his lean arms. A curved sword with a jeweled hilt hung at his waist from an elaborate scabbard. Éowyn tied her hair back in a tail, letting it hang down her back, a golden mane.
Boromir felt a scuffling behind him, turning his head a fraction to see his sister standing impatiently at his elbow.
"Brother, what is happening? I was practicing when some pages told me to clear the yards for a formal challenge. Who is it?"
"The good Ambassador and our Lady of Ithilien have been spoiling for a duel, and Agrad pushed Éowyn a little over the edge this time while not in the presence of Faramir..."
"And so my lady sister challenged the rat to a duel? Excellent! Let him have his due..." she whispered malevolently, her eyes glittering. "I think I shall enjoy watching this, brother!"
The ambassador unsheathed his sword, and the two began to circle, catlike. Jeers came from the crowd. The Gondorian soldiers who had been training earlier began to hoot in favor of their Captain's wife. Éowyn smirked at the nearly scared look the ambassador had on his lips at the overwhelming support for his opponent, savoring the rabbit fear in his eyes when one choice shout of "Run him through, Wraithbane" came from the crowd.
Suddenly he lunged, thrusting at her legs to knock her back. Éowyn merely leapt to the side easily as he fell forward.
The soldiers laughed as he dusted himself off. "Tanglefoot!" one jeered. His eyes narrowed, and he lunged again, this time blade meeting blade; but he had been too far away, and Éowyn shoved him off easily.
This time, Éowyn lunged, aiming for his ribs. Agrad had to jump back a little so he could reach her attack. Her blows came fast, almost too fast; he barely caught the steel edge before it sliced him through. Her snarls as she lunged unnerved him. He was not used to Rohirric warriors, least of all female ones, light on their feet, thinking of strategy as only a woman can.
He staggered backwards, coming close to Aerwyn and accidentally laying a hand on her hip to support himself.
"I beg your pardon! Kindly remove your hand, sir!" she sneered. Aerwyn knew it had been an accident, but the opportunity was too good to miss. Feigning a frown, she stared down the ambassador. He merely smirked.
"I wish my hand had lain there in another place, fair maid," he said, thinking the woman merely a serving woman passing by. He pushed himself back into the ring, back to the mercies of Éowyn's still strong sword arm. But Aerwyn could see that she was tiring. A quick glance at Faramir's worried face laid aside Aerwyn's guessing as to why. She looked at Éowyn, who met her eyes and nodded.
Aerwyn stepped into the ring of people, and laid a hand on Éowyn's shoulder.
"Allow me sister-I am not expecting, and I daresay you are making my brother ill." Éowyn smiled and nodded, looking at Faramir, who deflated visibly as he let his tense breath out.
Aerwyn turned to face the ambassador, carefully swinging her sword in circles.
"Who is this?" Agrad cried in annoyance. Boromir smirked, calling above the crowd.
"Ambassador, I'd like you to meet my lady sister, Aerwyn. Another woman of Gondor not unfamiliar with a sword."
The ambassador smiled falsely and continued his attack, but Aerwyn, fresh from her practice, got to him quicker, her blows falling faster and faster. Several times he stumbled on his own feet, the last time too hard to get up quickly. His cheek hit the dusty dirt floor of the yard, and he looked up to see the tip of Aerwyn's blade at his throat, ready to make one quick slice and end him. He swallowed nervously.
"Do you submit, Ambassador?"
He was silent. The blade moved closer to his neck, making a long, shallow cut in his dusky skin.
"Ambassador, either you say that you surrender this combat or I will be forced to kill you, something I do not relish doing. Again, do you submit?"
Agrad swallowed nervously, and stuttered a yes.
"Now, Ambassador, what lesson have you learned today?" Aerwyn asked good naturedly, making no move to sheath her sword, keeping it at the man's throat. He was silent. "We have a saying here in Gondor, one you would be advised to follow-When in Rohan, do as the Rohirrim do. You will respect our customs while here in Gondor, and when our emissaries visit the tents of your chieftain, we shall be sure to observe yours."
Aerwyn moved her blade away from his throat, offering a hand to help the man up. He pushed it away, a hand massaging his cut. Aerwyn shrugged, smiling. She raised her sword to the sky, eliciting a hurrah from the onlookers. Éowyn rushed to embrace her sister. When the two parted, Éowyn smiled off to the side of the courts, where Rhoswen stood, holding the twins' basket. Aerwyn pushed through the crowd to look at her niece and nephew, both staring up at their aunt with wide eyes.
"It is for you I did this, Rhos...you must understand." Aerwyn apologized. Rhos smiled sagely.
"I do condemn you for it...but I think it was not all for me...but also for your niece, Aerwyn." The two women looked at one of the tiny bundles of life swaddled in the basket, and Aerwyn reached down to let the little girl grasp her finger.
"Little Elin... remember this day. Today, life is good." Aerwyn smiled down at her niece, who gurgled in her baby way and smiled too.
Shout outs, because I've been bad to my reviewers lately and haven't given them their updates like they wanted.
MerryMagic- glad you liked the last shout out, BECAUSE YOU GET ANOTHER ONE! throws confettiNobody was expecting twins, now were they? I love being unpredictable!
Orli's babe- glad you liked it! And thanks for the compliment
Sailor Taichichi Vegeta- Love your comment about the hamster, and I'm glad that I'm being inspiring. I hope the show was worth the wait.
Roisin Dubh- Hope you liked it...and thank you so much for continuing your support of Gray Artistries, Ltd.
Dread Lady Freya- Boro and Rhos thank you for the slippers...they have full confidence in their skills.
The names- Aidian-Fire, fiery, from Celtic and Eilionnoir- diminutive of Eleanor, light, from Greek. Again, I hope the show was worth the wait...and don't shoot me for letting Aerwyn in on the fun- it was Angoliel's idea to have Éowyn slack off due to her own little one. Isn't it sweet? Éowyn, expecting! laughs
Kris- Are you all right? I hope you got your update fix.
Lady of the Dog Star- Thanks for the compliment...I have to say, the last chapter was one of my favorites too.
Mducquette- Thank'ee koidly for your review! And I think you're somewhere around 40 reviews now, right? I think...
Terreis- I'm glad you liked it. Yeah, frazzled Boromir is pretty funny...but we love him anyway. huggle
Angoliel- huggleglomp Much thanks for your support and ideas and time and just being there, sis.