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

Author’s Note: Sorry about the long wait, real life reared its ugly head and got in the way. This was also a long and complicated chapter to write. That being said, I hope you enjoy it. Please let me know if you do!

Chapter Seventeen: The Challenge Happens

     “I’ll kill him. Really, I will. I don’t care if he is a knight of Rohan or the Master of Buckland, when I find him, I will wring his neck!”

     Pippin glanced up at Eowyn worriedly. The White Lady’s jaw was set, and her eyes were blazing. She was absolutely furious.

     “I’m sure that we’ll find him, Eowyn,” he said quickly, hoping to divert disaster. “He’s probably in a pub or inn somewhere.”

     Eowyn rolled her eyes. “Yes, that’s the problem. Here, isn’t this the one you like?”

     That she neglected to state that the inn in the Fourth Circle was the same in which she and Arwen had first truly bonded was beside the point. Pippin nodded and followed her inside, almost running to keep up with her long strides.

   They found the knight they were looking for in a far corner of the common room. Merry was slumped against the wall on a bench, a huge mug of ale clenched tightly in one fist. His face was slack and his eyes were slightly unfocused, and from the reek of him, he was obviously dead drunk.

     “Meriadoc Brandybuck!” roared Eowyn, advancing across the room with a stride that would have frightened grown men. “What in the name of Eorl are you doing?!”

   Merry hiccupped. “Drinking. Want a mug, m’lady?”

   Pippin winced in sympathy as Eowyn swooped down on Merry and seized him by the collar. Merry gave an undignified yelp, and protested incoherently as she dragged him to his feet and marched him towards the entrance.

   “I cannot believe you, running out on us the night before the challenge! We’ve been searching the city high and low since supper, and here you are in a pub, getting completely crocked! Oh, send the bill to the Steward, thank you,” Eowyn said sweetly to the innkeeper, as he opened his mouth to ask for his money. “You’ll have it by tomorrow.”

    “Eowyn, you’re very pretty when you’re angry,” Merry slurred, listing to one side.

    Eowyn snorted and didn’t bother to answer. To argue with a drunken hobbit was the last thing she needed.

*****

   Estella stepped into Arwen’s sitting room and shut the door behind her, a rueful look on his face.

    “Well?” Arwen asked, pausing from her pacing before the fireplace. “How is he?”

    “He’ll live,” Estella said. “I haven’t seen him this drunk, though, since two days before we were married. Are you certain that Pippin wasn’t with him?”

     “Estella!” protested the Thain, as the ladies laughed. “Really, I wasn’t the only one there that night!”

    Estella just shook her head. “Anyway, he will be hung over tomorrow, but as all he has to do is lie around looking pitiful, he’ll be just fine.”

    “Good!” Arwen said, sitting gracefully down in her chair. “We’ve done entirely too much planning to have to change it now.”

*****

   Theodwyn woke up with the sun shining in her face. She blinked for a moment, confused, as she was not in her own bed, then sat up with the memory that she and the rest of the fellowship had fallen asleep in Eldarion’s room last night. Looking around, she saw that Eldarion, Elfwine, Elanorallie and Rowan were still sound asleep, curled up in the big bed. Legolas, however, was stretched out on his mattress on the floor, arms folded behind his head, gazing absently at the ceiling. He turned his head and smiled at her when he sensed her watching him.

     “Good morning, Theo,” he said. “How did you sleep?”

     “Very well, thank you, Legolas,” she replied. “Should I wake the lads and Ella up?”

     “Yes, I suppose you ought to. The Queen’s Challenge starts in an hour.”

     At that, Theodwyn threw herself at the lads, heedless of her injured arm, and shook them, shrieking, “We’re late! We’re late! Wake up!”

    The lads were out of Eldarion’s huge bed in half a moment, flying for their day clothes and running into the nursery for a quick breakfast. Legolas was handed his new tunic, with the bull’s eye in the center, and Eldarion handed Theodwyn and Elanorallie a pair of trousers and a shirt of his own to wear for the day.

     “A dress will get in the way,” he informed them cheerfully. “Wear those.”

     At last, they were all dressed and fed, and were running through the halls of the citadel, out the door, and down the streets of the City. Legolas carried Rowan, who couldn’t keep up with the other children. They were midway through the sixth circle when a voice hailed them.

     “Hey, there! Your highness!”

     The children slowed, and they turned to see one of the Rohirrim guards, a man named Caelin, driving a cart towards them. He was one of Eomer’s personal guards, and the children adored him for the stories he could tell. Elfwine led them to him.

   “Hello, Caelin! Are you going to the Pelennor Fields?”

   Caelin nodded, saluting them. “Aye, I am. Come on, hop up, and I’ll take you down there.”

    Legolas lifted the children in and climbed up next to the soldier. “Thank you, sir,” he said. “It would have been a long run down to the field if you hadn’t stopped us.”

    Caelin smiled. “Just trying to be of service, my lord.”

    The Pelennor Fields was bustling when the children, Legolas, and Caelin arrived. Caelin let them off near the royal pavilion, and they hurried up to greet their parents.
    “Good, you didn’t sleep late,” Aragorn said as they hurried up to him.

    “We would have if it hadn’t been for Theo, your highness,” Elanorallie said with a grin. “She woke us all up.”

    Aragorn grinned back at her, then glanced over at Faramir. “Are we ready?” he asked.

    “Yes, the Elves arrived a few minutes ago,” the Steward said. “Shall I give the alert to sit down?”

   “Yes, thank you, Faramir,” Aragorn replied, directing the children and Legolas off of the platform to join the Elves. “I don’t suppose that our wives are joining us?”

   From where he was seated, Eomer grinned at him. “I don’t think so, Wingfoot,” he said cheerfully. “Nor your hobbit knight, either. From the way they were all grinning at each other in the dining hall this morning, they are going to be a part of this from beginning to end.”

    Aragorn sighed and shook his head. Arwen had positively outdone herself with the course for this challenge. It consisted of a large maze made of young potted trees, and had a small tunnel made of several huge barrels at the entrance. A small replica of a hobbit hole was a few feet from the exit to the tunnel, and from where he was standing, Aragorn could see a large grey cat sitting on a large bench. A figure that looked oddly like that of Thranduil could be seen between the leaves of some of the trees. Further along, a large table had been set up and covered with food, and was edged in by potted shrubs. The trees turned to a maze of roses after that, and Aragorn turned back to Eomer, shaking his head.

    “I am worried, Eomer,” he said. “Not for any of the elves, but just for the sheer madness that this contest is going to provoke.”

     Eomer grinned. “Alas, poor Wingfoot. Come on, sit down. The games are about to begin.”

*****

    “Good luck! And may the blessings of Men, and Elves, and all free peoples go with you.”

     The contestants gazed up and Arwen, all trying not to look worried. They were failing miserably, but no one could blame them for that. The Queen dropped her handkerchief, and the two teams each started into the maze from a different starting point. Legolas and Faramir Took, each clad in the bull’s eye tabard, grimly shook each other’s hands and marched after their captors. Aragorn, watching from the pavilion, had to commend them. At the moment, they were much braver than he was.

    The children reached the hobbit hole first, rather unsure where the Elves had gone. Eldarion was in the lead, Legolas brought up the rear. The hobbit hole was actually a single room, the parlor, and fit the children perfectly. Legolas had to stoop to get through the door.

    “Look for the pipe,” Eldarion instructed. “It should be here somewhere.”

    “Is this it?” asked Rowan, holding up a small clay pipe, which he had found on a table in the parlor. “It looks like Lord Took’s.”

     Legolas fought the urge to snicker at that. “I believe he has asked all of you to call him either Mr. Took or Pippin,” he said. “Lord Took makes him feel ridiculous.”

    “Oh,” said Rowan, handing the pipe to Eldarion. “All right.”

    Elfwine led the way out of the hole, and they found themselves following a small path. It meandered on for about ten yards, and then they abruptly found themselves facing a large tree, in front of which sat a large bench. A big grey cat sat staring at them. The children stared back for a moment, then Elfwine bowed.

   “Greetings, O Cat of Queen Beruthiel,” he said. “We seek to pass you.”

   A voice came out from the curtain of green behind the cat. “You must answer three of my riddles, then.”

    Legolas groaned and sat down on the grass. He should have known that Arwen would have talked his father into helping her. But…the voice of a cat? What in Arda were they coming to?

    “We will answer your riddles,” Eldarion said. “Tell us.”

    The grey cat blinked, and Thranduil’s voice began after a moment. “Know this: you are not allowed to ask the older Elf for help. The first riddle is ‘Thirty white horses on a red hill. First they champ, then they stamp, then they stand still.’”

    The children looked at each other, puzzlement showing on all of their faces. Legolas sighed. At this rate, they would never get through the day. He began to loudly click his teeth together.

    Theodwyn was the first to get the hint. “Teeth!” she shrieked. “The horses are teeth chewing food!”

     “That is correct,” the “Cat” stated. “Now, ‘Cut me and I weep tears as red as my flesh, yet my heart is made of stone. What am I?’”

     “Oh, that’s simple,” muttered Legolas.

     “We’re in trouble,” Rowan said cheerfully, and sat down next to him. “Do you know the answer?”

      “Yes, but I cannot say it,” Legolas replied. “Perhaps Elanorallie knows?”

      The elf child nodded. “It’s a cherry, Sir Cat,” she said.

       “Yes, you are right. If you can answer the next one, you may pass. ‘A box without hinges, key, or lid, yet golden treasure inside is hid.’”

      “An egg,” said Eldarion quickly. “It’s an egg.”

     “Very good,” replied the “Cat”. “You may pass.”

     The children cheered and hurried n down the path. As Legolas passed the cat’s bench, he said, “Very good acting, Father.”

    “Yes, it is fitting for the King of Eryn Lasgalen to pretend to be a cat, is it not? Very sly, we are. Oh, and Elrohir’s team is just behind you. You had best hurry. And watch out for arrows,” the hidden Thranduil said. Legolas could hear the traces of a smile in his face. Deciding that he didn’t want to know what Thranduil meant by arrows, he hurried after the children.

    They had gone ahead of him to tea party. To Legolas’ everlasting amazement, Arwen had somehow managed to convince Gimli and three of the other dwarves to sit and judge the singing. The four of them were sitting at the table, drinking tea and making bawdy jokes. When he saw the children standing hesitantly at the gate, however, Gimli raised a hand to silence his friends.

    “Ah, our entertainment has arrived!” he cried. “Well, let’s have a song, then.”

    Eldarion and Elfwine glanced at each other, at a loss for all of the songs they knew. Elfwine nodded at his cousin, and Eldarion grinned. As one, they pushed Theodwyn forward.

   “Hey!” she cried, struggling. “Let me go!”

   “Go on, Theo, sing!” commanded Eldarion. “We know you can.”

    Theo glared at the lads, but getting no help from them, and receiving only sympathetic looks from Elanorallie and Rowan, she turned back to the dwarves with a sigh. They were all watching her with interest.

   “Any songs, my lady,” Gimli said. “We’ll choose the best.”

   “Oh, all right,” Theo whispered, and cleared her throat. The only song that came to her mind was a song that the King had taught her father, which she had overheard. “I am a weaver, a Calton weaver. I am a rash and a roving blade. I’ve got silver in my pouches, and I follow the roving’ trade-“ she began.

   “No! Not that one!” yelped Gimli. “That is not a proper song for a lady to sing. Give us another.”

    “Oh. All right, this one, then,” Theo replied, a trifle surprised. “It reminds me of you, Gimli. Woodman, spare that tree!Touch not a single bough!In youth it sheltered me,and I'll protect it now.'Twas my forefather's hand,that placed it near his cot:There, woodman, let it stand,thy axe shall harm it not!”

    Eldarion buried his face in his hands and groaned softly as Theo sang. Behind him, Legolas was trying not to laugh. The rest of the children had looks of amazement on their faces; Theodwyn was going out on a limb with this song. When it ended, the little lady of Ithilien folded her hands and smiled.

   “When Legolas told me about how you met Treebeard, he sang me this song. I think that it should have been “Tree, Spare that Woodsman” instead of “Woodsman, spare that tree”. What do you think?”

    Gimli blinked and looked at the other dwarves. They were all endeavoring not to laugh, and the dwarf lord shook his head. 

    “Lady Theodwyn, I think that you and your friends may pass. That was a very interesting song,” he said.

    “Oh, thank you, Gimli!” cried Theo, springing forward and hugging him. “Come on, all of you, let’s go! We have to rescue the hapless maiden!”

    “ ‘Tree, Spare that Woodsman’,” Gimli muttered as the children and Legolas passed. “I have to remember that.”

*****

    They found themselves in the rose maze after that. Rowan tugged on Eldarion’s tabard as they left the tea party.

    “We have to hurry,” he said. “The elves have arrived.”

    Eldarion looked behind him. It was true, the elvish team was at the tea party, and it seemed that they were having no trouble at all. Quickly, he grabbed as many of his friends as he could, and they ran for it, determined not to lose.

    The maze was long and twisty, and they were soon lost. There was no going back, however, and so they kept at it. Legolas occasionally lifted Rowan up and had him look about. The little lad would then point them in the right direction, and they continued on their way.

    It was when they lifted Rowan up for the third time that they got a scare.

    “The Elves are getting close!” the lad cried. “Hurry!”

    “To think I’m running from my own people,” Legolas thought as they dashed away. “It’s absurd.”

     Eldarion led them around a few more corners before the next surprise hit them. Literally. A blunt arrow, tipped in blue chalk, came out of nowhere and hit Legolas in the chest.

    “Ouch!” the Elf bellowed, dropping Rowan and looking around. He could see no one. “So this is what he meant by ‘watch out for arrows’!” Legolas muttered, remembering his father’s warning. “Who shot me?” he called.

   There was no answer, but shortly another arrow whacked him between the shoulder blades. Legolas cursed in Quenya, and strode towards the nearest turn.

   “So that’s why we had to wear the tabards with the bull’s eyes,” he muttered. “I’m going to wring her neck.”

  “Wow!” cried Eldarion, catching up with him. “Queen Beruthiel’s guards are on to us! We’d better go faster!’

   “Yes, we can’t be caught by them,” Elanorallie said seriously. “That would be bad.”

   Legolas smiled grimly. “Aye. The next archer to shoot at me will regret it.”

    The children grinned at each other, but seeing Legolas’ annoyed face, they didn’t say anything.

    It was only a few moments later that they found the middle of the maze. With whoops and cheers, the children ran for it, and burst into the open square. Then they stopped in amazement, gawking at the sight that met their eyes.

    Across the square, a high pitched little voice squeaked, “Cousin Merry?!”

TBC