"Milady? Milady? MY LADY!"

I jerk awake, bolting upright so fast my head spins and then falls off.

Well, not really, but it sure as hell feels like it. Iariel is standing next to the bed, a tray in her hands and an irritated expression on her face, which is directed at the door, not at me. I wonder which brother managed to bug her. On the other hand, it could have been both.

I yawn and she smiles at me. "I brought your breakfast, milady."

I nod, too busy yawning to talk as she sets the tray on the end table. I mutter a thank you and rake my hair out of my face. Iariel suddenly lets out a cry and presses both hands over her mouth, staring at me with huge eyes. I stare back. "What? What?"

She hurries over to me, perching on the edge of my bed and poking at my face. "Oh, milady..."

I slap her hands away. "Ow! Ow, Iariel, that fucking hurts!"

Iariel immediately backs away, clasping her hands in front of her skirt and staring at me wtih wide eyes. "I'm sorry, milady, it's just..." she trails off and gives a helpless little shrug. "You're so kind to me, I hate to see you wounded."

I shrug and kick the blankets off. At the moment, I really don't care what my face looks like. I know it hurts, I know it can't be pretty, I know it's swollen, and I know I'm too hungry to care about much else. I grab my breakfast as Iariel starts laying out clothes for the day. One good thing about having a maid? I don't have to agonize about what to wear. She picks it out. Besides, she's better at it than I am.

"Your bath's ready, milady, whenever you are. Several of your companions were down yesterday to inquire after you, but Lord Boromir sent them packing, since he didn't want to disturb you. But the halfling brought you flowers, and..." She suddenly blushes. "The Elf Lord brought you this," she says, and hands me a single white rose.

I smile, softening like melted butter. Roses turn me into a giant marshmallow. Bet it was Elladan. "Which Elf Lord?"

She laughs. "I'm sorry, milady. I was just thinking how wonderful it must be to be able to ask WHICH great Elven Lord sent you a rose."

That makes ME laugh. "You have obviously never had to deal with the twins, Iariel."

"True, but it wasn't one of the Lords of Rivendell, it was the other one, the very handsome one with the long pale hair." She smiles at me, radiantly. "I think he fancies you, milady."

Legolas. That bastard. I turn my face away, fighting the tears in my eyes.

God, I hate this. I fucking HATE this. I am not some weak-spined little...wimp who falls to pieces over a rose. I refuse to allow myself to do this.

Iariel sits down next to me, wrapping a concerned arm around my shoulders. "Milady? Kayli?"

I shake my head, wincing as the gash on my face throbs. "It's nothing, Iariel. I'm fine."

I watch as her eyes widen and comprehension dawns on her face. "You're in love with him!" she exclaims, loudly enough to wake the ENTIRE CITADEL.

"Who's in love with who?" Boromir demands for the doorway.

Faramir, right behind him, gapes at him. "You mean you don't KNOW?"

Oh, fuck. Just kill me now, will you?

I flop back onto the bed, and Iariel immediately grows fangs and claws and verbally bites Boromir's head off. "What right do you have, storming in here like that? The lady might not have been decent!"

Both brothers protest at once. "She's our sister!" from Faramir, and a snort and a "When is she ever?" from Boromir.

"That's it!" I yell, and chuck a pillow at his head. It hits him square in the face and he stumbles backwards. Faramir lets out a cheer. Boromir growls and attacks.

"Faramir! Be a brother for once and come to my aid!" Boromir hollers, and promptly instigates the lowest brother-sister war weapon since time began -- The TIckle Tactic. Within seconds, I'm shreiking with laughter and trying to kick him in the head.

"Iariel! Iariel, help me!"

She looks shocked for a second, then grins, grabs a pillow, and thwacks Gondor's Captain right up the side of the head. I let out a hoot of laughter and grab my own pillow.

"Two against one! 'Tis not fair! Faramir, help me!"

Faramir laughs. "I think I shall join the ladies on this one, brother, they seem to be winning!"

"Traitor!" Boromir yells, then nabs a pillow with each hand and starts flailing.

I hear footsteps in the doorway, and when Boromir looks I hit him over the head, and my pillow explodes, showering feathers everywhere. Boromir spits one out and gestures to the newcomers. "Will no one come to my aid? I fear these wenches outnumber me!"

"Wenches!" Iariel shrieks, and hits him again.

"A true son of Gondor requires no aid against two women armed with pillows," Aragorn points out, and I glance toward the doorway.

There's the King, flanked by a Dwarf, two Elves, and four -- count them, FOUR -- healthy-looking, mobile Hobbits.

Merry and Pippin grin at each other. "For Gondor!" Pippin cries, and charges. Boromir tosses Faramir one of his pillows, and next thing I know, Iariel and I are faced with two maniacally grinning Stewards and a Hobbit of Gondor.

"I think we're outnumbered now, Iariel."

"Retreat, milady?"

I make a rude noise. "Not in this lifetime."

"Well, now, that's just not right, is it, Mr. Frodo?"

Frodo smiles slowly. "No, no, it isn't, Samwise. It isn't right at all."

"Oh, dear," Merry says. "I'm coming, Pippin."

Elladan and Elrohir look at each other, then smile slowly and clasp arms. "May the best brother win, 'Dan."

"See you at our victory feast, brother."

111

It degenerates from there, flailing at friends and enemies alike. I end up beating Elrohir over the head until he shouts, "Peace, woman! You've got the wrong bloody brother!" and retaliates.

Merry and Pippin are involved in a wrestling match over my last whole pillow, and last I checked they were on the same side. Iariel is swinging at Elladan, but is laughing to hard to hit him. Frodo and Sam are collapsed at the end of the bed, laughing helplessly. Gimli is chucking the little throw pillows from the sofa at Faramir, and Boromir and Aragorn are holding a mock-swordfight with nearly empty pillow casings.

You know it's been a rough weak when you have the royalty joins the pillow fight.

"What on EARTH?" says a new voice from the doorway.

"Eowyn!" Faramir cries, looking delighted until a well-aimed lavender pillow catches him in the stomach.

"Victory to the Dwarves!" Gimli laughs.

"You caught me unawares, stubby one! It shall not happen again!"

"For ten minutes," Boromir adds, and then the little pillow his him in the head. Wow, Faramir's got good aim.

"Do we want to know?" Eowyn says to Legolas, who's arm she has.

Legolas is taking the scene in with a smile on his face. "Nay, I think not, my Lady."

"Pfft! Good thing you kept him away until know, Lady Eowyn. The Elf would've been naught but a hindrance," Gimli says.

Legolas raises an eyebrow at him. "Ai, truly, I am sorry to have missed the morning's entertainment. Tell me, Master Dwarf, who kept you alive while I wasn't here to protect you?"

I laugh and fall back on the bed, landing on Elladan's leg, which earns me a yelp and a smack to the belly with a featherless pillow. "No more, please, no more. My ribs are gonna crack."

"We have her defenseless!" Pippin cries and pounces.

"Aye, defenseless with laughter!" 'Ro says, and aims his own pillow at his twin's head. "You shall not best us again!"

"They haven't bested us yet!" Iariel says.

"That's not true! I had you beaten!"

"Only because she was laughing to hard at your bumbling attempts to truly defend herself," Frodo says. It's always the quiet ones who cut so deep with words.

"Did anyone win?" Eowyn asks.

"Not really," Pippin admits. He wasn't really so interested in attacking as in finding a pillow that hadn't had the stuffing beat out of it. Literally. Lucky me, eh?

"It was actually going all right until Kayli starting beating on her own team," Aragorn explains.

"Oy! So not my fault! Hello, they look exactly alike! I didn't know he wasn't Elladan, it was hard to tell with all the feathers!"

"Who's side was the Dwarf on?" Legolas asks, arching a brow at his friend.

"Neither, thank you. I try not to get involved in family battles, but the bumbling young Steward hit me with a stray shot and I had no choice but to retaliate," Gimli says indignantly.

"And you, my Lord?"

"Which my Lord?" Merry asks.

"Aye, we're neck deep in nobility, my Lady," Sam adds.

"That one," she replies, and pokes her finger into Faramir's chest.

He widens his eyes at her, assuming that expression of flawless innocence he does so well. "Why -- my brother's, dear lady! Surely you can't expect to abandon my family in a time like this!"

"Ha!" from Boromir. "You waited until we were winning to join us!"

"What about me?" I demand. "I can see how meaningful your sister is!"

Faramir laughs, picks Eowyn up, and kisses her soundly. "Aye," he says softly, staring into her eyes. "Very meaningful."

Elladan and Elrohir simultaneously look at each other and roll their eyes. Iariel lets out a little 'awww' noise. Merry and Pippin collapse into a giggling fit.

I sit up and brush my hair off my face. Legolas looks at me for a second, eyes going wide, and then he pointedly looks away.

And it's at this point I realize I'm still in my nightgown. Well, it's not like it leaves anything to the imagination, but it's just loose enough to slip off one of my shoulders. Oh, the scandal! I tug it back into place and look around at my family.

'Dan drops down next to me and wraps an arm around my shoulder. "Feel at home yet, little one?" he whispers.

TBC...