Before, the courtyard echoed with the rattling of weapons, but now the afternoon sun has sapped the young warriors of their fervor.
"Aye, now," says the first, slouching beside a bed of peonies. "The victory was clearly mine."
"'Twas not!" the second protests.
"'Twas, you silly girl!"
This is the last straw: with both lethal rage and catlike grace, Éowyn springs forward, knocks out the wooden sword upon which her brother haughtily leans. He tumbles down, and she can hear his shouts even as she races past the gates: a good thing this one always been light on her feet.
This is a work of fan fiction, written because the author has an abiding love for the works of J R R Tolkien. The characters, settings, places, and languages used in this work are the property of the Tolkien Estate, Tolkien Enterprises, and possibly New Line Cinema, except for certain original characters who belong to the author of the said work. The author will not receive any money or other remuneration for presenting the work on this archive site. The work is the intellectual property of the author, is available solely for the enjoyment of Henneth Annûn Story Archive readers, and may not be copied or redistributed by any means without the explicit written consent of the author.