Chapter Eight: The Plan

March 3

Darn it, they left me! But oh, are they going to pay.

When I woke up I realized I was actually lying on a bed. I hadn't slept lying down since I managed the walk from my convalescent quarters to the hallway; I mostly just leaned against any surface roughly perpendicular to the ground, or while walking when we were traveling. Then I tried to remember what had happened the night before- the dizzy feeling. I then looked at the table beside the mattress. There was a note:

Arë,

We have gone to Helm's Deep. I apologize for having to drug you, but we could not risk you coming. Remember to practice both weapons every day; the Lady will inform us if you do not.

It was unsigned, but it didn't matter. It was pretty obvious that Legolas wrote it; even Aragorn thought I should work on just one weapon at a time. So I decided to get it over with- the practice, I mean. And while I was at it, devise a means of revenge. Oooh, it was going to be good.

I picked up my archery equipment (someone, probably Legolas, wanting me to have no excuses for not getting better, had moved them where I could not miss them) and headed for the great hall, trying to find someone who would know where I should go to practice.

I was not the only one there. Mhera was there too, sitting with Éowyn on a bench. "Where are you going?" Mhera asked.

"Archery practice," I said glumly. "Under threat of drill twice a day until the end of eternity."

Mhera laughed. No compassion from the cynical. "Glad I'm not you."

I snorted. "You'd better be. I've had to put up with this since Lórien!"

Mhera shrugged. "I've only been in Arda a month."

I looked at Mhera. "You have been in Edoras for over a month and it is not a pile of rubble yet? That's a miracle."

"Har har," she replied, eyes narrowed. "For your information, I couldn't have torn this city down if I had tried. This hellish head of hair has been preventing me from doing nearly everything. When I try to walk it tries to strangle me." I then looked carefully at her hair. It was blue-black and had trademark Sue ringlets falling down her back. That struck me as odd, because it had been a Mhera taboo to leave her hair down in any way, shape, or form, and here it was, hanging loose (which looked good on her, all the same; a ponytail wouldn't work). I was surprised she hadn't already hacked off the bottom two feet. And that was when the idea hit me.

"Éowyn," I said, taking the dagger out of my boot. "Can you cut my hair? Chin length, please."

She was in shock a few seconds before replying, "But that's nearly criminal! Just look at your hair, it's so beautiful!"

"And a pain. Look, if you don't do it I'll have to ask Mhera to cut it, which will leave you having to explain to everyone how I got decapitated once they get back. I'd do it from a very long distance." Ignoring Mhera's (loud) protests, I sighed. "Look, Éowyn. It's just hair; it can grow back." But I won't let it, I added to myself.

"All right," she gave in. "But are you sure you don't want it at least shoulder length?"

"Chin," I replied firmly. I turned around and loosed the thick piece of yarn that had held my hair into its rope of a braid. When the sound of hair breaking reached my ears, I literally felt a weight lift from my shoulders. One Sue characteristic down, millions to go. After a minute, I shook my head. It felt marvelously light. I turned around to Éowyn, who was holding the dagger in one hand and about two feet of my hair in the other, staring at it in shock. "Never seen hair before?" I joked.

"Not this much off a person," she said, shaking her head.

"Well, you can burn it then. It won't smell nice, but the smell won't last long." I took my dagger and turned to Mhera. "Want to go out and watch me make a fool of myself trying to shoot?"

"Sure," she grinned.

--

Aragorn was so, so right when he said that archery may not be my thing. I made an absolute fool of myself. We actually tried to see whether I would hit the target more times if I aimed for one of the outer rings of the target instead of the inner circle- I hit the central target more times when I didn't actually try to hit it. I would have broken the bow over my knee if Mhera hadn't grabbed it before I could try. After my patience was thinner than tissue paper, I snapped at Mhera, "When they come back, it is your duty to tell them that I tried to practice, and I went through the entire positioning routine and I still can't shoot to save a life. And you can tell them that I am more likely to hit an enemy if I aim for a friend."

Mhera sighed. "Come here, Runa." She still insisted on using my real name, and the familiarity of it compelled me to do as she said. When I stood in front of her, she took both my shoulders. "Runa, you can't expect to be able to do everything. I know you've tried in the past, but it doesn't work. Just accept that you will never be able to shoot straight."

"I can't!" I shouted, fighting back tears. "They all expect me to improve! Maybe I should just go north and find those snow-people that were mentioned somewhere in the books. They're nomads, right? Then they won't be able to find me and make me practice something I can't do."

Mhera shook her head. "You're hopeless. Just give it up. Repeat after me: I will not stress over this."

"I will not stress over this," I repeated dutifully. Then hysteria rose again. "But what if..."

"No 'what if's'," said Mhera sternly. "If I hear you stressing over this one more time I will hit you over the head. Understand?" I nodded; when Mhera threatens to do something, she usually does it. Mhera continued. "Now, you've practiced today, and I can swear to it. In fact, you have been practicing from midmorning to late afternoon." I looked up to the sky. Sure enough, the sun was about three hours from setting.

"You're right. Let's go find Éowyn."

Once we found her , Éowyn took us of the "younger crowd" over to the kitchens for dinner. She hacked off a piece of bread and smoked ham, folding it in a napkin. Mhera stared at her. "Haven't you ever made a sandwich?"

Éowyn looked confused. Mhera and I exchanged glances; every four year old can make a sandwich! So we started on our instruction- Mhera violently demonstrating as we both recited, "You take a slice of bread, put the meat and cheese on it, and put another slice of bread on the top, and you eat it!"

Éowyn simply stared. I looked at Mhera. "Did we just..."

"I think we did," she interrupted, looking stricken.

"Not again!" we said in unison, banging our heads together.

Cruel world, kill us now. We have broken canon again.

March 4

Mhera and I have finally figured out why I am so terrible at archery. I was practicing, as instructed, when I missed for the twentieth time in a row. I was absolutely irate and went to pull the arrow out of the fence post that the arrow had miraculously found, tugging at it with my left hand.

"Wait!" Mhera said. I stopped. It's always best to do what Mhera tells you; you have no idea what sort of horror she will unleash if you don't.

"You're left-handed?" she asked. Well duh. Before I could snap, she said, "I bet that you've been shooting right-handed. You know you can't even use scissors right-handed. Try doing what you've normally been doing, but switch the arms."

So I tried it several times. At first, it felt really awkward, and I couldn't get anything. But then something clicked. The stance started to feel natural. And then...

"You got it!" I stared at the target. There the arrow was. Right. Smack. Dab. In. The. Center. I could barely control my glee.

Then I tried again. And again. And again. I didn't hit the central ring of the target every time, but that number was a thimbleful compared to my ocean of on-target shots. I've finally gotten better!

March 5

I've improved more today, and Mhera had to drag me off the field once it got dark, yelling that I had been there all day and needed to eat something before I went anorexic. I think all of Meduseld (that was still there) must have heard her, but that's beside the point.

Once we got inside, Mhera shoved a piece of bread in my face and said "Eat!" in her loudest non-yelling voice. I had no choice but to obey- at least, at first.

"So," I said, while chewing, "how exactly did you get here, Mhera? It's time to 'fess up."
Mhera grimaced. "I shall tell you," offered Éowyn, earning her a patent-glare from Mhera. Apparently, Éowyn didn't notice, so she continued. "She came riding up to the hall one day last month on a strange horse when it was pouring down rain, yelling at someone to tell her where and when she was, which does not make sense-"

"To you maybe..." muttered Mhera.

Éowyn glared at Mhera for interrupting. The style showed that she had learned from the master, but it lacked a certain je nai sais quoi. "An-y-ways," annunciated Éowyn

, "one of the guards thought she was trying to attack the capital and knocked her unconscious. To their utter embarrassment, then they found out she was an unarmed woman just out of girlhood, so they took her to me for judgment. I, of course, denounced them for the idiots they were, and insisted that we get her warm and dry as quickly as possible. So we changed her out of the wet and torn clothes she was wearing, and put her in a spare dress." Mhera glared at Éowyn again; it was another taboo of Mhera's to wear any skirt, dress, of anything of the like. This time, Éowyn noticed the glare. "You were soaking wet, Mhera. You could have fallen ill and died if we did not put you in dry clothing. Anyway, once she woke she immediately demanded a pair of pants and a knife. The maid sitting attendance on her did as she said- apparently Mhera is hard to disobey. I came back with the maid, to see this strange person. Anyways, " Éowyn's eyes twinkled, "she immediately pulled on the pants and cut the skirt off above her knees, saying, 'Finally,' or something of the like. She has been amazing the city with her antics ever since."

"That's Mhera," I said, grinning at the person in question. Judging from the look she gave me, I have very little time left to live, despite immortality. In fact, she uttered a very nasty curse, in Quenya this time, since she hadn't fully recovered from the Black Speech episode. "That's also Mhera," I said to Éowyn. "She has developed a very large choice vocabulary."

Éowyn smiled slightly. "That is what makes her interesting."

Later

The company is riding through Edoras, and then we are going to ride with them to Dunharrow. The messenger arrived this morning, calling out that Rohan is going to war to help Gondor. Éowyn simply nodded, I bit my lower lip (I know, it's a bad habit) and Mhera grinned. As soon as the messenger left us alone, Mhera pulled both of us into the room we share (not like that, sickos, we're just roommates) and smiled smugly. She announced, "Girls, I have a Plan," so that you could almost hear the capital letter.

I winced, knowing what was coming. Poor Éowyn, however, had no experience with this type of demon. "What do you mean, a Plan?" she asked, also making the capital letter sound.

"Trust me," I interrupted, "you do not want to know."

Mhera gave me one of her patent-glares until I cowered and then continued, "We have just as much right to earn renown as those men do. Just because of a few...differences we are banished from the battlefield. Well, it won't happen. We're going out there, and I can tell you exactly how."

Her plan was drowned out by my mental moans.

Reviewer responses:

Huggins Legacy: Research for me is like a reflex. It comes from having two teachers as parents. And finally someone who agrees with me about the maple leaf ears!

Angeltread: Pretty soon we're going to have roach lawyers at our doors, suing us for slander. They won't get anything from me, though: my net worth is something like four hundred dollars.

Fallen Truth: Yes, laugh all you want. But pretty soon Mhera's going to drop a torch and POOF.

Laer: Umm... don't tell Mhera you thought she was a Sue- she's a real person (note screen name). You'll be dead within the week with her calling card on your chest where your heart was carved out with a wodden spoon.

Crecy: You liked my writing style? Really? I hope you get cookies! And if you like my style, you should read The Princess Diaries series.

Legolas's Girl 9: Exercize induced asthma is not uncommon. I know three other people with it.

Lior-a: You want to know my age? Check the homepage under Runa. Though it actually doesn't matter.

Nasuada Moon: Oh my goodness! Do you like the Inheritance trilogy (the two that are out, that is)? I liked the first one, but I thought Eldest was rather sappy.

Thank you to those who review. I laugh at those who do not, for they are fools! Muahaha!

Pardon me while I go take my medicine.