Author/Banshee Queen: (Exhausted sigh.) I have been working on this chapter day & night just to get it posted out to you guys. : ) And let me just say, thank you very very much for the reviews! They really make me wanna' continue on with this story so much & are what keep me going whilst writing these chapters. So thank you again guys, please keep reviewing & I'll keep bangin' out these babies' for you:D
I've noticed that these chapters are a bit long & I've tried cutting them down, but its just so bloody hard! Tell me if it gets a bit much & I'll see what I can do. I'd also like to say another big thank you to you guys for actually reading this bloody long thing! These chapters are outrageously enormous & for you to sit there & thoroughly read through them really makes me appreciative of the time you give up to read them. I admire you guys for that, so thank you again. (Huggles all readers.)
A couple more notes to you guys; this chapter gets a little…violent, should I say so you have been warned!
Also for those of you who don't know what 'Hadafang' is, it is Arwen's sword in the Fellowship of the Ring which we all know she unsheathes and brandishes to the Ringwraiths at the Ford. It has something written along it like 'sword of a lady' etc. I don't know the exact translation but just thought you should know.
And lastly, (and sadly), I am back to school again after the Easter holidays so Chapter 5 may not be out for quite some time. Nonetheless I will keep writing whenever I get a chance away from the tiresome burden called "school" and "assessment" and "assignments" and- oh never mind, the list goes on as you all know & a painful one at that.
Oh & to Squirrel on the Edge & Vesper Forest, I have a question to ask; what are frat boys/prats? I had a bit of an idea but please explain it to me anyway.
Anyway on with the chapter & as always, happy reading! (If you can manage to get through it…)
Disclaimer: (Screams at the top of her lungs.) "I don't own anything damit but this story and the ideas!"
Chapter 4: On the Road & Fist Fights
"I can't believe you talked me into this." Hissed the Elf sitting astride a black gelding.
Sitting comfortably on Asfaloth and with a natural at ease posture in the saddle of Asfaloth, Éowyn rolled her eyes and stared ahead rigidly, trying to ignore the Elf's simpering complaints of how her rear end had begun to go sore from only a couple of hours in the saddle.
"It's been five hours Undómiel, which means its five-pm," Arwen sniffed loudly, "which means we have another hour in the saddle before we turn in camp."
The 'Company of the King' had left the White City at noon and had been riding ever since, stopping only for the occasional restroom break and well-wishing folk and children in the townships they passed.
"Another hour of this torture huh?" Muttered Arwen inaudibly, but not quiet enough for Éowyn not to hear.
"Ugh! If you spent more time out practicing your riding skills instead of how well you can embroider, than you wouldn't have a sore arse and be complaining so much!"
"Oh sure", scoffed the Elf, tossing her long wavy golden hair over her shoulder, "spending more than half my day outside smelling like a horse is just so unbelievably enjoyable I just don't know how else I should spend the remainder of my days."
"Whatever", grumbled Éowyn looking sideways at 'herself', "you're supposed to look like a pro at riding, look at the way I'm riding Undómiel! Back straight, shoulders squared, both hands firmly on the reins! And please, if you must, or if, when the horse goes at a gallop don't bob up and down like a jumping roebuck! Dig your butt into the saddle as if you're scooping ice-cream!"
The Elf whipped her head left and looked at 'herself' in disbelief.
"What? What has scooping ice-cream got to do with-
"Just do it! And don't argue with me unless you want to look like an idiot!"
A deep sigh escaped Arwen's lips as she bowed her head. She knew the mortal was right, but just didn't want to give in to her grating know-it-all ways.
Still, she was born and bred in Rohan. 'Home of the horse lords.' They are the most well known race throughout the entirety of Middle Earth to be the tamers of horses. Arwen's laugh was cut short in favour for a snort. And let's not even go into the fact of the Mearas…Another sigh escaped her throat. But sadly the cow is better at riding than I-
Aragorn's voice suddenly broke through her thoughts and in anguish she watched on as he kissed 'her' cheek and showered her with compliments on her 'improved' riding skills.
"So Melamin doesn't just have a pretty face and sharp mind huh?"
He grinned again at Éowyn before booting Roheryn in the flanks, and rode off further up ahead to catch up to Faramir. Within minutes the two men were laughing their heads off.
Roheryn…the horse I gave to Aragorn as a gift. 'Horse of the lady.'
Out of the corner of her eye Éowyn saw a river of tears cascade down Arwen's face, and watched on with pity as she scrubbed vigorously at her face.
"Everything all right Arwen?" Éowyn asked quietly, eyes locked on with the road ahead.
"I'm fine. I just got a bit of dust in my eyes." She replied, wiping the last of her tears away.
"Are you sure that's not your yearning for your man hiding behind those blue eyes?" Éowyn whispered quietly, eyes bent on her red riding gloves.
But Arwen didn't hear, and the look on her face looked akin to pure cold, steel, ready to hit anyone who got in her way.
After another hour had passed, the Company of the King stopped for the night and set camp. Both the King and Queen's tent and the Steward and White Lady's tent had been situated ten meters apart with both Aragorn and Faramir noticing the 'still' coldness between their wives.
"What is up with those two?" Questioned Faramir shooing away an awaiting stableman and unsaddling his horse.
"Beats me, but personally", Aragorn picked up a brush and began combing through Roheryn's hair, "it's really starting to piss me off."
"You don't say", grumbled Faramir, brushing down his horse's back leg, "I mean I thought they were over the whole 'I'm obsessed and in love with your fiancée' and 'I'm going to kill you if you ever set eyes on my fiancée again' thing."
The brush in Aragorn's hand stopped as he turned and looked at his friend over the horse's back.
"Hang on; you think this is about me?"
Faramir shrugged unconsciously, and continued with his brushing.
"Well I can't think of anything else, and like you said before, it's like they've swapped bodies and are acting like the other normally would."
"Yeah but…", the dark haired man sighed deeply and ran a hand through his hair, "oh I don't know."
"Maybe we should just let them sort it out themselves you know", Aragorn nodded, "I mean you know what its like to interfere with a woman when she's having a disagreement with another woman, especially when that woman is your wife." Another nod from Aragorn. "It's like sticking your hand in Gimli's mouth man." Aragorn doubled over at that point, laughing hard and supporting himself with a hand pressed against Roheryn's flank. "That guy'll eat anything!" Continued Faramir, now grinning.
"Yeah I guess you're right", wheezed Aragorn, "better leave it alone than to play with fire."
"Mmmm."
"Hey Fari."
"Yeah?"
"You up for a game of pool?"
"What?" Faramir's shaggy head of hair popped up from over the back of his horse.
"You heard me", laughed Aragorn, feeding Roheryn some hay.
"But how? We don't even have a pool table."
"Oh", pouted the king mockingly, "I never think that far ahead", he pointed outside the tent, gesturing towards a large cart covered with a dark blue tarp.
"So that's what it is!" Faramir exclaimed, surprise and happiness mingled as one. "I was wondering just what the hell that was, but-
"Stop talking, more playing." Aragorn sighed as he yanked Faramir by the collar and dragged him outside.
Two days later after having to listen to Arwen complain about another million things on their road trip, Éowyn beamed with pride at the sight before her. In the distance lay a small gleaming rectangle of gold, otherwise known as Edoras; the Golden Hall. Arwen had been there once before, a time which she did not like to recall. Fare-welling her father forever was one of the hardest things she ever had to do in the entirety of her life as Éowyn remembered her telling, and the memory even now brought tears to her eyes as she saw 'herself' scrub at the tears falling down her cheeks.
"Overwhelmed at being home again Éowyn?" Questioned Faramir, softly reining his mount in closer to hers and wrapping his arms around her.
Arwen merely nodded sadly and smiled through her tears, murmuring a quiet 'yes' and laughing suddenly at something Faramir had said to lighten the mood.
"It just brings back…memories…", Arwen locked eyes with Éowyn and for a fleeting second the White Lady saw the pain there in her eyes.
Out of nowhere, tears of her own sprang from her eyes and she found herself plunging headfirst into long-lost memories of her childhood, people, places and things which had happened in her early lifetime. Familiar smells, sights and things she had heard from long ago came flooding back in all those tears…and then suddenly Aragorn was there, wrapping both arms around her in a warm and comforting hug and murmuring things in Elvish which she didn't understand. When she looked at him blankly however, he whispered softly; "Ada?" Éowyn nodded dumbly and looked down at the reins in her hands.
"I'm right here beside you Arwen", the White Lady's eyes flickered up to meet his, he rarely called Arwen by her name in their presence, in anyone's presence in fact, "we'll face this together. I'm right here beside you Arwen, and I'm not going to leave you."
Éowyn looked at the earnestness shining in his eyes and smiled.
"I'm fine…Mela-min…", she pronounced the word slowly, hardly believing she had just said something in Elvish, let alone a word of endearment, "I'm fine."
But however straight her back seemed or expression she tried to portray like that of an ice-queen, Aragorn rode beside her on Roheryn at the same pace, holding her left hand within his tightly, and occasionally looking over at her with a smile of reassurance.
From the back of Éowyn's black gelding Arwen watched the scene with great interest, suspicion, and pure fury.
When we come back from this stupid trip and this stupid ordeal is over and I'm back in my own body, that woman will be sent again to the Houses of Healing with all of her limbs missing by the time I'm through with her!
The Company rode slowly up the path leading to Meduseld, on the way receiving cheers, shouts and smiles from the waving crowd of the Rohirrim people.
"Wave, or I'll cut off this pretty little hand of yours Undómiel", hissed Éowyn in Arwen's ear as she steered Asfaloth closer to the black gelding and gestured toward the Elf's pale and slender hand holding onto the rein.
The Elf glared daggers before waving queenly-like to the people and forcing a smile onto her thin lips, at the same time receiving more cheers and confused looks from the crowd. A little while later the Company passed through the doors of the Golden Hall, Éowyn with one palm on the back of Aragorn's hand and the other hand holding a fistful of her swaying skirts as she walked. Arwen however, carried out the gesture with more elegance and finesse than the stumbling White Lady.
Just coz' she can hold a dress better than me-
Éowyn's thoughts were cut short, for Éomer's voice rang out from the throne.
"Who enters my hall so confidently and with a kick in his stride?" Shouted Éomer at the top of his lungs. His face was hidden by shadow and the thick coat of bearskin atop his shoulders made him look monstrously huge.
The same coat which belonged to Uncle…
The White Lady pushed back the tears forcing themselves to her eyes.
Confidently? Kick in his stride? Ways of the court my arse!
Arwen sniffed loudly, straightening her back.
"One who would get a haircut!" Called back Aragorn, making Éowyn jump.
A deep, echoing laugh descended from the throne and Éomer ran at full speed, tackling Aragorn with open arms and a manly hug. The two laughed before Éomer stepped back and was attacked by a laughing Faramir.
"Haircut? Geez look at you two! Is the hobbit mullet the new style in Gondor?"
All three men laughed hard, clutching their stomach's and pointing at each other like immature children. Éomer turned toward the company and catching sight of Éowyn melted into a smile.
"Sister", he whispered softly, enveloping her in a warm hug and placing a gentle kiss on her cheek.
Arwen smiled at him kindly and blushed a little, stepping back with her hands folded in front of her.
"Okay so what first guys?" Questioned Éomer rubbing his palms together. "A quick game of pool before you get settled? A ride on the plains? A visit to the Glittering Caves?"
Both Gondorian men looked blankly at each other, both shrugging their shoulders.
"Anything works for me", said Faramir.
"Yeah me too", commented Aragorn.
"Open those doors!" Commanded Éomer to a few awaiting servants, clapping his hands. "Let some light and air through."
"Whoa, quite the king now", jested Faramir nudging the darker haired man in the ribs.
"You keep going like that Éomer and you'll get caught up in that mullet of yours." Smirked Aragorn, scratching his stubble.
Faramir doubled over, face going completely red as he 'silently' laughed.
"Ha ha, very funny. Shut your hole ranger boy."
"Which of us are you talkin' to?" Questioned Faramir.
"Hey! I thought I was ranger boy!" Questioned Aragorn placing his hands on his hips. "I mean I am after all Strider, and Wingfoot as you so named me dude."
"Oh yeah, forgot you two both used pine-cones to wipe your-
"GET HIM!" Cried Faramir launching himself at Éomer and tackling him to the ground.
Éowyn watched on in amusement as the three friends rolled around on the ground trying to unsuccessfully pin one another to the ground with feats of their manly strength. Arwen however, watched on in dismay as Aragorn dirtied his dark blue dress-coat and cloak.
"What's the matter Undómiel? Afraid Aragorn will get a thread caught and tear his nice, clean, new robes?"
A smile of satisfaction reached Éowyn's lips as she watched Arwen fume on the spot, both hands clenching her dress as if she would rip the material to shreds.
This war isn't over Arwen, it's only just begun.
But before a victorious laugh could escape her throat, that sickening feeling sped up her throat, and the whole ground caved in beneath Éowyn's feet just as she made it to the toilet bowl.
Again? What is this? Has Arwen got some sort of digestive problem? What is this?
The rest of the day passed quickly with the company settling in quickly, and after the sun had set and the candles were lit in the Golden Hall, Arwen and Éowyn both found themselves sitting opposite each other of the extremely long dining table, both toying with the food on their plates and smiling whenever either one of their husbands or Éomer included them within the conversation. Éowyn especially clutched her silverware tightly, knuckles turning deathly white as she gripped the edge of the table. Since they had arrived that morning she had felt the whole world lurch beneath her feet and had to have Arwen's chambermaid Lyreth help her to her feet and support her whenever she wished to go someplace.
Surprisingly enough, Legolas and Gimli had arrived a few hours before sunset and claimed they were on their way to the White City to pay Aragorn a visit after stopping for the night at Meduseld.
"Mae Govannem Arwenamin", Legolas murmured softly, bowing gracefully and kissing Arwen's hand.
Éowyn smiled courteously and bowed her head slightly, replying; "Good to see you too Legolas."
Eyes wide with horror and mouth agape with shock, Arwen sat stiffly in her high-backed chair, trying to comprehend what the White Lady had just said to one of her closest and most trusted friends. Legolas simply raised an eyebrow in question, then bowed again, striding away off down the Hall towards the doors.
"What in Valar's name was that?" Hissed Arwen across from her place at the table.
"What?" Questioned Éowyn innocently, raising her goblet to her lips, "I greeted him didn't I?"
"Not the way I normally would!"
"Well I'm not you!" Retaliated Éowyn, waving her goblet around and splashing ale all over her plate, "I'm Éowyn daughter of Eómund, Princess of Rohan, known far and wide as the White Lady and pissed off as hell that I'm stuck in your body!"
"Don't flash your titles at me you little bitch, I've got quick a couple of my own and far greater than yours besides."
"Are you listening to me?" Said Faramir, waving a hand in front of Éomer's face.
Seated at the head of the table, leaning to one side of his high-backed armchair with his chin resting on his hand, Éomer gazed interestedly and almost trance-like down the length of the long dining table.
"Huh?" Éomer snapped out of his momentary trance. "Oh, sorry. Was just listening to Arwen and Éowyn's conversation."
"Oh", moaned Faramir, slouching further into his high-backed chair. "Learn anything new by any chance?"
But Éomer didn't answer, and immediately Faramir and Aragorn swung their heads in the direction Éomer was looking. Éowyn was sitting stiffly in her chair glaring ahead at Arwen who was wielding around her goblet around as if it were some sort of staff. Every so often Éowyn would reply to something the Elf had said, glaring coldly as Arwen's head bobbed from side to side, face growing redder and redder with every breath; to the three men it seemed as if she were at the pinnacle of her argument or about to explode.
"I thought those two were over that whole 'I'm obsessed and in love with your fiancée' and 'I'm going to kill you if you ever set eyes on my fiancée again' thing."
"Hey! I said the exact same thing two night's before!" Exclaimed Faramir, eyes widening.
"Quiet Fari", remarked Aragorn, turning his attention back to Éomer, "you think this is about me?"
"Hey! And you said the exact same thing two night's before!"
"Quiet Faramir!" Cried Éomer and Aragorn in unison.
"You mean to say you still think they're on about that?" Questioned Aragorn.
Éomer shrugged.
"Well what else could it be? I see no other reason unless it's just that time of the-
"Dessert!" Squealed Faramir, gleefully clapping his hands together and grinning broadly.
From beside him, Gimli muttered something incoherent and buried himself in his mug of ale again as the servants began clearing up the table and replacing platters of pork and casserole dishes with platters of cakes, tarts, ice cream and such.
"As I was saying", continued Éomer throwing Faramir a quick aggravated glance, "what else could it be? Cover every subject and you'll find nothing else between the two to spark an argument."
"Or a dispute", sang a familiar clear voice.
The foursome looked up, smiling once Legolas seated himself comfortably next to Aragorn and placed a small cask of red wine on the table.
"A dispute you say?" Questioned Éomer raising an eyebrow.
"Of course. Anyone who hadn't picked up on it since the very first moment those two met each other, would be blind."
Faramir began shovelling pudding tenfold faster into his mouth than he had before, Éomer becoming interested in the dirt under his fingernails and Aragorn's eyes began wondering around the Hall, watching as servants scurried back and forth carrying out their duties.
"Oh puh-lease! Don't tell me you three didn't know?" Questioned Legolas, placing his wine goblet down on the table hurriedly.
Faramir looked up suddenly and glowered at the Elf defensively.
"We didn't say-
"Yep, they had no clue", coughed Gimli abruptly interrupting and looking down into his mug when all three mortals frowned down at him. Only Legolas smiled warmly and knowingly at the dwarf before him, lifting the cask of red wine up.
"Wine anyone?" He inquired, smiling at the stunned faces next to and across from him.
"Wait, you knew?" Asked Aragorn in disbelief.
Gimli simply laughed heartily, rocking back in his chair and scratching his beard lazily.
"Well now I feel like an idiot", mumbled Faramir setting his fork down on his plate exasperatedly and pushing it to one side.
"Then nothings changed", murmured Éomer putting his goblet to his lips.
"Dude, you didn't know either!" Faramir said, eyeing the Rohirrim king as if here were an imbecile.
A low chuckle escaped Aragorn's throat as he shook his head and spooned a piece of tart into his mouth.
"Hey what're you laughin' at? You didn't know either dude."
The Gondorian king's face became a statue of pure stone.
"And don't even think about it Elf boy!" Faramir shouted, pointing his finger at Legolas just as the Elf opened his mouth to say something.
"Wow, seems like the tables have certainly turned." Said Gimli with a hint of amazement tinging his voice. The dwarf brought his hands up to bar the other three's glares however when their eyes rested upon him. "What? I was only saying."
But then the five all fell silent as both Arwen and Éowyn's voices drifted across their conversation.
"…and ale? You're drinking ale? I never drink ale! You're polluting my body with that disgusting drink! Stop it at once!"
"Stop it at once?" Repeated Éowyn, raising an eyebrow. "It's the Fourth Age in case you hadn't noticed Arwen and you're living in a human world now so quit using old language!"
"It's not my fault if I was educated whilst I was growing up", hissed Arwen glaring at her enemy across the table.
"You know Undómiel, I just can't believe that someone like Aragorn would be interested in someone like you."
"Oh?" Questioned the Elf sarcastically, raising an eyebrow. "It's not as if he would go for a brat like you."
Strangely enough, a wry smile appeared on Éowyn's lips as she leant forward on the table, both hands fanned out. Arwen cowered lower in her seat, shrinking under the mortal's mischievous gaze.
"Do you know where his hands were the morning after I awoke trapped in your body?"
Pure fear shot through every nerve in Arwen's body as she felt every muscle tense and in that instant the Elf knew she wanted kill Éowyn with her bare hands.
"You don't think something bad is gonna' happen do you?" Faramir whispered in Gimli's ear.
And then everything seemed to happen all at once.
Éowyn leapt up onto the table on all fours, her hands choking the life out of Arwen who had dropped her goblet, wine splashing all over the table as well as hers and Éowyn's garb. The mortal with disturbing ease, lifted the Elf clear off the ground and slammed her down onto the table hard, that night's dessert flying every which way and that, as the two women fought furiously.
All three men scrambled to their feet, Gimli managing to grab hold of Faramir pants, threatening to pull them down if he did not stop struggling against his hold. Legolas on the other hand had both Aragorn and Éomer to deal with. The dark haired man fought against the Elf's surprisingly strong grip, using his body as a barricade in Aragorn's way.
"Hama!" Yelled Legolas, gesturing towards Éomer who was about to pry his sister off Arwen.
The doors of the Golden Hall burst open, eight Rohirrim guards running in to restrain their king with Hama in the process of getting his beard ripped off by Éomer.
"I'm the Lord of the Mark and I will do what I wish!" Cried Éomer trying to reach for the back of Éowyn's dress through the hold of four guards.
"Just why the hell am I supposed to be restraining my king Legolas?" Hama angrily questioned, trying to pry Éomer's fingers off his beard.
"Because he was trying to grab Éowyn off of Arwen!" Retorted the Elf trying to unsuccessfully persuade Aragorn to take a seat and calm down.
All eight guards swivelled their heads to look over at the dining table, mouths hanging open, noticing for the first time the Lady Éowyn strangling the very life out of the Queen of Gondor.
"Why is that a bad thing?" Screamed Faramir as Gimli ripped off his pants.
"I want to know why they're fighting!" Yelled Legolas pushing Aragorn forcefully down into his chair.
"Let go of me damit!" Roared Éomer, finally becoming overpowered by his own guards.
"I will let you all be if you just stand still!" Hollered Legolas looking to Faramir, Aragorn, then Éomer.
"Fine!" Growled Faramir, buckling up his belt.
Aragorn looked up and nodded at Legolas from within his chair, Éomer sighing deeply as one by one his guards loosened their grip and finally let go of him.
Legolas laid a hand on Aragorn's shoulder, to reassure him but mainly to set him firmly in his place. Standing by Faramir, Gimli stood with both hands clasped in front of him, twitching every so often with the urge to lay hands on the mortal beside him. Hama merely laid a hand on the hilt of his sword as he stood stiffly by his king whose arms were folded tightly, feet apart in a sure footed stance and eyebrows drawn down watching his sister tear apart the Elf beneath her.
"…fucking bitch! I'm going to kill you!" Screamed Arwen as she lifted Éowyn's head off the table momentarily and slammed it back down harshly repeatedly.
"He called me Melamin," choked Éowyn, face going redder by the second, "but of course you didn't know that did you?"
Arwen loosened her grip on 'her' own neck briefly before that look of primal urge to kill shot through her eyes again and her hands were all over Éowyn's neck again.
"Seems that Aragorn likes the Southern lands better than the Northern."
The mortal coughed raggedly as Arwen squeezed even harder, teeth gritted in a terrifying snarl.
"You're giving yourself wrinkles!" Squealed Éowyn.
The Elf gasped, taken aback, hands springing back from Éowyn's neck as if she had just touched a hot plate, but not before Éowyn snarled and reached behind her, bringing a large wine pitcher SMACK BANG! Right into the side of Arwen's head. The Elf fell off of Éowyn and curled up into a ball, nursing the side of her head and moaning.
"Just because-
WHAM!
Éowyn hit the Elf viciously in the knee with a silver platter she had grabbed off the table, "you know that you're husband", the mortal grabbed a fistful of 'her' own golden hair and yanked down hard, "wants me, you think you can choke the living daylights out of me?" Yelled Éowyn smashing a small clay vase onto Arwen's head.
Beneath the deep cut forming on her head, Arwen laughed heartily, rolling onto her side and winching once her knee-cap came into contact with the table's surface.
"At least I know who's the gorgeous one out of us", the Elf smiled tauntingly.
Éowyn's eyes widened with recognition.
Faramir always greeted her every morning that way, telling her; "…you are gorgeous, I love you, and I love you because you're my delectable wife".
Her eyes widened in horror with the memory, and partly because she saw the two oncoming pan lids of a casserole dish enveloping both sides of her head.
BOOOOOOOOOONNNNNNNNNNGGGGGGGGGGG!
The sound of the two pan lids colliding with Éowyn's head was enormous, it echoed throughout the hall, nearby servants, the Rohirrim guards, Gimli, Legolas and the four mortals all standing with eyes widened and mouths hanging agape as they watched the fight continue between both women. Even the two dogs laying by the roaring fire, sat up straight, ears raised above their heads, senses alert as they watched the two females of the 'human species' collide with each other.
Arwen rolled Éowyn clear off of her and onto the floor where she lay trying to gather herself up. In a second however, Arwen was back, grabbing hold of her head and pinning 'herself' down with what little body weight she had.
"So you think he likes it down South huh?"
Éowyn simply looked up at 'herself' with fear, trying to somehow cower lower beneath 'her' own penetrating glare and the cold stone floor under her.
"Well this is how we do things up North!"
With that, Arwen knocked her skull with Éowyn's brutally, at the same time rising to her feet and dragging her prisoner back towards the table. Flinging her onto the table as if she weighed no more than a blade of grass, she scrambled back on top of Éowyn and threw punch after punch directly at her face.
At the other end of the table, Aragorn sat with both palms lying flat against the table's surface, disbelieving at the sight he was seeing. Both Faramir and Éomer stood spellbound, both containing themselves from rushing over and putting a stop to the fight.
"Get off me you fucking cow!" Screamed Éowyn, pushing Arwen off of her with both hands gripped onto her shoulders.
Now it was Arwen lying on her back and Éowyn had the upper hand…literally.
Cake after cake Éowyn mushed with her bare hands into 'her' own wavy golden tresses, roughly tearing at 'her' own hair, mud-cake spattering over every inch of their raiments and down into the cracks of their cleavage.
"If I had Hadafang with me here right now, I'd be sending you to the nearest goddamn hospital in a fucking matchbox you bitch!"
The two continued with their long awaited, longed-to-be-unleashed battle, this time Arwen gaining control by seizing both of Éowyn's hands and somehow managing to bind them with a nearby dirty napkin. The Elf quickly climbed to her feet and picking up a large serving bowl, raised it above her head and dropped it mercilessly upon the recoiling Éowyn.
SPLAT!
Vanilla custard splattered all over the table, chairs and floor, Éowyn taking the brunt of it. It enveloped her entire foetal-like position, covering her face, and sinking in between the small cracks of her hair.
"Someone should stop this", said Gimli sternly, eyes glinting with a seriousness the four had only seen when at the Black Gate of Mordor.
"What? Why?" Asked Faramir suddenly.
"Want some more blondie?" Screamed Arwen.
THWACK!
The same platter Éowyn used to hit Arwen in the knee with only a moment ago came crashing head-on with Éowyn's face.
"AAAAAAAAAAGGGGGGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHH!"
The mortal ran at full speed towards Arwen, kneeing her ruthlessly in the gut before bodily tackling her to the stone floor. The two rolled over one another kicking, hitting and screaming as they reeled down a couple of stairs leading towards the fireplace. Both dogs leapt out of the way as they continued their barbaric-like brawl.
"Because sooner or later one of them is going to fall out of their dresses and this is going to get a lot nastier than it already is." Concluded Gimli.
"He's absolutely right", agreed Legolas, still watching the fight closely.
Both Aragorn and Éomer cried out and bounded towards the two women once they saw that they had somehow grabbed hold of a fireplace poker each.
"Take them to their rooms!" Called Legolas as he watched Aragorn wrestle the poker forcefully out of her grasping hands and Éomer bodily drag Éowyn away with both arms enclosed about her shoulders.
"What the hell is going on with those two!" Exclaimed Faramir loudly, throwing his hands up into the air in frustration.
"I don't know", sighed the Elf, staring after Hama leading the eight guards after Aragorn and Éomer, "but I'm going to find out."
"That's what Aragorn said last time", grimaced the fair haired man.
"This time you shall receive an answer Faramir", echoed the Legolas' voice as he strode after the party.
"I sure as hell better", muttered the mortal to himself as he quickly walked after the Elf.
Author/Banshee Queen: (Watches reader's intently with a glint of anxiousness & eagerness shining in her eyes.) "Did you like the fight? Was it good?" (Rocks back & forth yearning for a review.) "Oh please review & tell me! The suspense is killing me!"