Disclaimer: I don’t own them, and I’ll put them back safely when I’m done.

Author’s Note: Just a quick chapter, to peek in on the doings of Queen Arwen and her nefarious plot. This chapter was written to a Gaelic Storm CD of Irish drinking songs. I remain blameless in the matter.

Chapter Eleven: In Which Merry Learns That He Is In Over His Head:

    “Merry, if you don’t stop fidgeting, I will stick you with this pin.”

    Merry glowered at his wife, and stilled. Estella calmly turned another section of pink hem up and pinned it.

     “Merry, I’ll have you know that this was my favorite dress as a little girl,” Eowyn said, grinning at her squire.

     Merry looked at her in askance. “This dress?” he said, plucking the skirt. “This fine dress of pink satin that I have been coerced into wearing?”

    Eowyn arched one eyebrow into a near perfect V. “And just what is wrong with it, Master Holdwine?”

   “Nothing! It’s just, well…pink. I can’t imagine you in pink, Eowyn,” Merry replied.

   The women exchanged knowing glances. It was quite true; Eowyn rarely wore what she dubbed elvish colors and fabrics. Her gowns were all shades of blue, green, white, and the occasional red. Still, she had pulled the little gown out of a cedar chest in her storage room in Ithilien, and they were currently pinning it to fit Merry. The Master of Buckland, it is needless to say, was not at all pleased.

    “There,” Estella said at last, “I’m finished. You can take it off, dear, and I’ll sew it up.”

    “I’ll go into the other room, thanks,” Merry replied, stepping off the stool that he had been balancing upon.

    Arwen gave him a cheeky smile, an odd look on an Elf, even one turned mortal. “My dear Meriadoc, we have all seen male undergarments. You need not be embarrassed.”

    “Merry’s undergarments are really quite fetching,” Estella said. “As are Pippin’s, aren’t they, Diamond? We make them ourselves.”

     Diamond nodded with a grin, but Merry blushed scarlet and endeavored to sweep out of the room gracefully, as he had seen the Queen and Eowyn do. The effect was somewhat spoiled by his tripping upon the hem of the dress and stumbling the entire way to the door. Followed by the sounds of female laughter, Merry yanked the door open and stormed into the hallway, shutting the door behind him. Then he stopped dead and groaned.

     “You look good in pink, my friend,” Aragorn remarked, grinning at the hobbit.

     “Why is it,” growled Merry, “That women have the power to be spectacularly evil when they are together, and yet not be punished for it?”

      Aragorn frowned contemplatively. “I suppose it is because they are all sworn sisters.”

      “Stella and Diamond, certainly, but Arwen and Eowyn?” Merry said. “Are they sworn sisters?”

      “Oh, yes,” Aragorn answered. “You weren’t here for that event; it was about a year after you had returned to the Shire. Each of them was testing the other. They were making all sorts of cordial challenges to each other, every day for weeks. One evening, Faramir and I lost them, and were sent word to come quickly to a small pub that was well known for its ale, in the fourth circle.

      “When we arrived, we found Arwen and Eowyn sitting respectively, next to the table and under it.”

      “No!” Merry gasped, eyes dancing.

     “Oh, yes. They had succeeded in drinking each other under the table. They both spent the next day in complete isolation, nursing the mother of all hangovers, and have been sworn sisters ever since,” Aragorn finished. “I don’t know how,” he added as an afterthought, “But somehow that act was what sealed Minas Tirith’s love of and loyalty to both ladies.

     Merry stared at the King, a mixture of amusement and chagrin on his face. “You’re saying that I don’t stand a chance, aren’t you?”

     Aragorn smiled at the hobbit. “Yes, I am. Now, you might want to change from that dress before anyone sees you. It wouldn’t do to spoil their fun, would it?”

     “No, it wouldn’t,” Merry said with a shudder, and hurried away.

     Aragorn watched him go and decided that he really did not want to know what mischief the ladies were planning. Whatever it was, it would certainly be the crown all of the mad contest between the Elves and children. It was best not to meddle with Arwen’s affairs, he knew. Best to let them plot and plan, and be surprised when the time came.

TBC