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muddy eowyn and legolas


Part 19

The Goblin King snatched the lamp beyond Eowyn’s reach. It was obvious that he did not trust her, but she was sure he had no idea what she had been planning to do.

“Your Majesty,” she said, sweeping her outstretched hand to her breast, and dropping into an elegant curtsey, “I shall be honoured to fight as your champion.”

“Hmmm...” For a long moment, the king’s shrewd, black eyes bored into her. Then he jerked his head, and the guards shoved Legolas into the pit.

Eowyn waded towards him.

“Fight,” ordered the king, and his subjects instantly took up their favourite chant: Fight! Fight! FIIIGHT!

Legolas grasped Eowyn’s shoulders and pulled her into a wrestling hold that brought her ear close to his mouth. “We must make this look real, melmenya,” he said, “and you must win, for that will surely earn you another chance to touch the lamp.”

Eowyn responded with a curt nod.

Then she followed Legolas’ lead—struggling to gain the upper hand as they slipped and slid about together—until, suddenly, and without any warning, he twisted in her grasp, and fell, pulling her down on top of him, and she could not keep an impudent grin from her face as she found herself the victor!

The goblins whose money was riding on her began to cheer, but the king threw up a hand, cutting off their celebrations. “Best of three,” he said, and there was no doubting which wrestler he had wagered on.

Eowyn scrambled to her feet and—magnanimously—held out her hand to her opponent.


From his vantage point, behind a curtain of shadow, the knight watched his daughter, Gudyth, crawl out of the pit and, perching on its edge, huddle herself into a tiny, shivering ball.

His heart broke.

He did not know what foolery the elf thought he was up to, rolling about in the mud with his so-called wife, but he did know that he had not come this far to stand by and watch his beloved girl suffer—not for one moment longer.

He drew his sword and held it high—its blade glowing ice-blue in the garish red light—and, with a blood-curdling cry, he charged.


“Murder! Murder!” screamed the goblins, as the knight’s sword began cutting down their fellows.

Treachery!” shouted the Goblin King. He had little concern for his subjects’ welfare, but he was not going to allow a skinny elf, a Woman and a stunted Man to make a fool of him. He hauled himself to his feet and, quivering with rage, pointed at Legolas and Eowyn.

Kill them!”