Andrew Joshua Talon – Ahem. *looks guilty* Well, you see, I don't currently have access to the books. I'm going to try really hard, however, and if you know of something in particular you would like to see, let me know, and thank you HUGELY.

Ainua lote – You'll see, you'll see. And thanks!

Becca – NO! You can't die, you're one of my best reviewers! My ego wouldn't survive! Kidding, kidding. But, seriously, don't die. And I'm ALL THERE with the homework thing. Ug. Thank you so much!

Catherine Maria – Confusing references is me. Hee. I'm trying really hard with Boromir, really I am, but I don't think he'll be hanging around forever. And you'll see! Patience! Thank you. You ROCK.

Huygens -- *shifty eyes* Well, some...oh, hell. I've read them ALL! Thank you hugely!

Sylvia Viridian – The high point of her day was when she managed not to ask Eomer about him and his horse. Seriously. Her restraint isn't the best! And Nina's right, he is a pig. Thank you so much! You rock!

Anime no Megami – No shouting! Sh! And Kayli has already expressed her thoughts about a possible Boromir 'ship. I believe it was something along the lines of 'It'd be like sleeping with my BROTHER.' As for Faramir...Let's just say being on Eowyn's bad side would not be the high point of ANYBODY'S day. Don't worry, the 'ship is still up for grabs!

Ancara-iii – I will never, ever understand how Boromir is always made out to be the bad guy! Never! It wasn't his fault! And thank you so, so much!

ADC – Going? She's going? She's already gone. And as for Boromir...both opinions have been expressed. Something about it being like incest. Don't worry, the 'ship is still up for grabs.

Cah – Dude, that was a very useful review! Anything positive is useful. And I'm doing my best on the updates, I'm just putzy. Thanks!

Prettyfoot – Thanks! And don't worry...I think Leilanni'll be around...*evil laughter*...Ahem. Thanks for you review!

~

Chapter 15

~

We're already riding when I wake up. I'm riding with Boromir, and can I just say having the hilt of someone's sword dig into your back is NOT comfortable.

And yes, it is the hilt of his sword. Gutterface. Eww.

He leans forward to talk to me. "Are you...well?"

I nod, slowly, rubbing my temples. "What happened?"

"You fainted," Gimli says from nearby. When I turn to glare at him, he's grinning at me through his beard.

I smile back.

"You were pushing yourself too hard," Aragorn explains. "You have not been eating, nor resting as well as you should."

I grimace and rub my head. "OK. I'll watch that."

Aragorn opens his mouth to continue, and I hold up a hand. "I get it, Aragorn. It won't happen again. I'll be good, I promise."

Aragorn frowns at me. I can tell he doesn't believe me, but I turn away from him before he has a chance to reply, looking for my horse.

Oh, there he is, tied to Aragorn's by a lead-rein. Good. I was hoping we hadn't left him. I glance over my shoulder at Boromir. "Would you be really offended if I asked to ride my own horse?"

He frowns at me. "Are you strong enough?"

I nod, suppressing a wave of nausea. "Yeah, I'll be fine. Please?"

We stop, and I get my own horse. Yay! No more sword in the small of my back!

~

"Edoras," Gandalf announces dramatically sometime later. "And the Golden Hall of Meduseld. Be on your guard, and expect no welcome here."

Meduseld. Is it just me, or does that sound like cough syrup?

Yeah. Um, maybe it's just me.

~

And I tuned out again. Dammit, I really need to work on that.

I get down off my horse, watching everyone else. "Ye'd find more cheer in a graveyard," Gimli mutters.

Yeah. Sheesh, I've never seen a group of more depressed people. We climb the stairs. Gandalf smiles at the guy at the door. I suppose he's a guard of some sort. "Ah," Gandalf says happily, like it's all just going his way.

Must be a nice feeling. I wouldn't know.

"I cannot allow you before Théoden King so armed, Gandalf Greyhame. By the order of..." He's quiet for a second, then continues, like he'll say it, but he's not happy about it. "Grima Wormtongue."

If THAT isn't the most conspicuous bad-guy name since Severus Snape.

Gandalf turns to us and nods. Reluctance in ever gesture, the boys hand over their weapons. Legolas gives his knives a little twirl, like he's reluctant to part with them. Which, hell, I am. Boromir, Aragorn, and Gandalf hand over their swords. Legolas his bow and quiver, Gimli his axes. Yes, axes. Like, four of them.

I draw the knives out of my boots and the other one from it's sheath at the small of my back. I hold them out, and the dude doesn't even look at me. I have to thwack him on the shoulder with the hilts to get him to even LOOK at me, and then he does a double-take, like he can't believe they were stupid enough to arm a woman.

"You gonna take these or not?" I ask, and I know I sound rude, but I don't particularly feel that swell, and I'm sick of standing here.

"You're a woman," he blurts.

"Good eye," I say sarcastically.

"Who would allow a woman to fight?" he asks incredulously.

"I'd rather have the lass at me back then a lot of men I know," Gimli snarls.

I grin at him. "Thanks, Gimli."

And, naturally, they all take this statement as a personal insult, which it probably was, but STILL. MEN.

Legolas and I exchange a glance, then roll our eyes almost simultaneously. He's not real impressed either. I lean over to whisper to him. "Are the Men here always like this?"

"Yes," he mutters back, giving the lead guy the evil eye.

I shake my head. "That's bad. Like everybody's suffering a permanent case of testosterone poisoning."

Legolas frowns at me. "I do not know these words."

I smile and shrug. "It's hard to explain. It's just something we say in my...homeland."

"Your staff," Hama says to Gandalf.

"Oh," Gandalf says. "But I am old. If I may not lean on my staff as I go, then I shall not go in until it pleases Théoden to hobble out himself to speak to me."

Then he stumbles slightly, leaning on his staff and Legolas's arm.

The guard turns to Legolas, giving him a helpless look, but Legolas just gives him this adorable, wide-eyed look.

I giggle.

Gandalf drops Aragorn a wink, leaning on his arm now, and Legolas drops back between me and Gimli.

I smile at him, and he reaches up one hand to trace the corner of my mouth. "That, my Lady, is something that should be seen for more often."

And then he walks after Gandalf and Aragorn, leaving me gaping after him like a fish.

What the HELL was that all about?

~

"The courtesy of your hall is lessened of late, Théoden, King," Gandalf says in his big, impressive voice.

I love it. He's not King Théoden, he's Théoden, King.

My god, that guy looks like he rolled in a puddle of grease from on of the fryers at work. He's greasy, he's pale, he's slimy, he's dressed all in black, and he even LOOKS spineless. Fuck, no wonder he's evil. If I looked like that, I'd be pissed at the world too.

"Why have you...come...Gandalf...Stormcrow?"

How, pray tell, do you NOT notice when your king looks like he died a couple of months ago?

"A just question, my liege," says Grima the Greasy. He stands and starts to walk towards Gandalf, trying to look threatening. I try not to wonder if he's dripping grease all over the nice shiny floor. "Lathspell I name you, Ill-news, for ill news is an ill guest, I say."

"Keep your forked tongue behind your teeth," Gandalf snaps. "I did not cross fire and death to bandy crooked words with a witless worm!"

Woo-hoo! You tell 'im, Grampa!

As Robin Hood would say, prepare for the fight scene.

The boys leap into action. I step out from behind Gandalf and smile innocently at the big bulky guard about to take a swing at me. He pauses, his eyes widening as he takes in my features, and then, being a guy, drop down to look at my chest. I punch him full out in the face. He falls on his ass. It's great.

I hear Théoden laughing in a not-Théoden voice as I duck a punch from a smaller guard, who looks about fifteen years younger than the rest of them. I rush him, tackle him around the waist, and slam him to the ground. He grabs at me, and I bounce out of reach. Yes, bounce. Like Tigger on crack.

Suddenly, a bright light fills the room and Gandalf shakes his staff at Théoden. I resist the urge to shout something along the lines of 'the Power of Christ compels you!'

Here's the best thing. All the guards hesitate before even swinging at me, like they're afraid I'm going to crumple and weep or run tattling to my husband/father/brother/ cousin/uncle/etc.

I realize I have said this on numerous occasions, but GOD, men.

Then, just like that, the fights over, and Théoden's staggering to his feet. Grima tried to crawl by Gimli, but the Dwarf kicks him in the gut and then plants a foot on his chest. "I'd stay put, if I were you."

One of the guards hands Théoden his sword, and then Théoden grabs Grima by the collar and hauls him out onto the steps. We all troop out after them. I grin as Théoden chucks Grima down the stairs.

"I only ever desired to serve you, my Lord," Grease Boy calls back, cowering like a kicked dog.

"You would have had me crawling on all fours like a beast!" Théoden bellows, staggering down the steps like he's drunk. But hey, at least he's mobile, right?

I watch with a certain amount of detachment as Aragorn steps in on Grima's behalf. He steps down, extending a hand towards the slimy git, and Grima spits in his face.

"Asshole," I mutter. Gimli glances back at me. "Shoulda killed him."

To my surprise, it's Legolas who murmurs his agreement. "The only good enemy is a dead enemy."

The Elf and I agree on something. Go figure.

TBC...