GypsieRose - Debbie Does The Two Towers 17

"You hold the bow here...and then you catch the bowstring on this little notch on the arrow, see?"

Battle raged around the fortress of Helm's Deep, but there was a small oasis of calm among the Elven archers on the ramparts. The rain had slowed to a drizzle. Legolas was giving an archery lesson to Debbie the Purple while Gimli fended off the odd stray orc with his axe, loudly counting off the number of his kills.

"Like this?" Debbie held the arrow delicately with one dainty hand as she threaded it with the index finger on the other.

"No, no...here, hold still..." Legolas reached around from behind and moved her arms into the proper position, lingering at the silken touch of her skin.

Debbie rested her arms along the long, slender limbs of the Elf. "Like...this?" she purred.

"Yes, that's much...nicer," Legolas murmured as he wrapped his arms around Debbie's waist. "Now, try releasing the arrow." He nibbled lightly on her ear.

Distracted by the tickling sensation at her earlobe, Debbie accidently loosed the arrow into the Uruks below. "Oops..." she giggled. "I think I shot that guy with the big sparkly thing."

Indeed, the arrow had sailed through the crowd of chanting Uruk-Hai and felled the largest and most foul, who had been making his way toward the fortress, torch in hand.

"Ooh, good shot, Lady Debbie," Gimli cried as he severed the head from an oncoming Uruk. The body fell backward off the wall, taking a siege ladder with it. "That's another fifty for me," the Dwarf announced with satisfaction.

"That was easy!" Debbie beamed, watching the Uruks below scramble about in confusion. "Can I shoot again?" She noticed that Legolas' arms had slid quite a bit higher than her waist, but she settled in and said nothing.

"But of course you can continue, Lady Debbie," the Elf said graciously. She thought for a moment, behind the roar of battle, that she could hear him sniffing her hair.

*******

"Wow, Éowyn, you were right--this swordfighting thing really is easy once you get into the rhythm of it!"

Debbie the White strode into the great halls of Helm's Deep, arm-in-arm with the Daughter of Rohan. Both of their identical white minidresses were soaked through from the rain. (Éowyn's dress had started the night full-length, but had been forcibly altered with the help of a sword when she found it restricted her movement.)

"Yes," Éowyn agreed, smiling ear to ear, her enjoyment of the battle clear upon her face. "And your kar-aht-tay worked well when my sword was lost."

Debbie nodded solemnly. "You're getting really good with that groin kick."

Éowyn blushed. "Why thank you, Lady Debbie. I was practicing in front of Lord Aragorn the other night. For some reason he kept turning away, but he assured me I was doing well. The Uruks are taller than my practice dummy, but the adjustment was easy to make."

The two women hardly noticed that a growing crowd of soldiers trailed behind them. It was not until they reached Théoden at the hall's far entrance that the throng was made apparent, when the King bellowed: "Éowyn, for the love of Rohan, put on some armor!"

Éowyn pouted. "But Uncle, Lady Debbie and I have come from fighting off hordes of Uruks, and we have had no need for further armament than this!"

"And what of the hordes behind you? In my very hall?" the King wailed.

Éowyn and Debbie turned to face the crowd of men and boys behind them. At once, every soldier began professing his love for them both.

"Uh oh," said Debbie quietly.

Éowyn squeaked in alarm and edged behind Debbie. "This is most gratifying, but...so many at once?" she whispered.

"I'll keep them occupied. You go change," Debbie whispered back.

Éowyn sidled past, heading toward the door to the armory. Then suddenly she stopped, strode with a determined air toward a particularly handsome young soldier, grabbed him by the ears, and kissed him thoroughly. Grinning broadly, she skipped through the door; meanwhile, the dazed soldier was immediately surrounded by his confederates, who whooped and pounded his back in congratulation.

King Théoden moaned, audible even over the clamoring soldiers. He started reciting what sounded like poetry: "Oh, where is that girl and her armor....? Where is the horn that was blowing?"

"I think the Elves have it," Debbie said helpfully.

"Lost is the innocent maiden," Théoden continued, apparently not hearing her. He sat heavily down and dropped his head into his hands. "How did it come to this?"

"Um...we're winning?" Debbie offered. She thought Théoden mumbled something, but it was hard to tell over the general din. "King Théoden!" she all but shouted, "You mustn't give up hope!"

Théoden thrashed his head from side to side, groaning all the while. Finally, Debbie did the only thing left for her to do: she took the King's head in both of her hands, and kissed him long and deeply.

When he could breathe again, Théoden was a new man. "For Debbie and Glory!" he shouted, stumbling to his feet. "For...for Glorious Debbie!" he yelled even louder, struggling to unsheathe his sword. Finally, he gave up on the weapon, grabbing Debbie about the waist and throwing her back. "Oh, hell, just for Debbie!" he yelled, and kissed her passionately.

The assembled soldiers applauded heartily. Théoden released Debbie, raised his fist in the air, and charged out of the hall with a triumphant roar. Behind him, his men gave a loud and hearty cheer, then rushed out after him into the battle, their spirits renewed.

*******

The archers of Lothlórien continued to release round after round of white-feathered arrows into the mass of orcs below. Debbie the Purple had rapidly reached the point where even her devoted teacher Legolas had to admit that her form needed no further correction. Then again, he'd always considered her form perfect, but her shooting had caught up with that perfection as well. He now stood beside her, using his twin long-bladed knives to fend off those orcs that managed to scale the walls.

"Where's Aragorn, anyway?" Debbie called over the din of the battle. "I thought he was only leaving me in charge here for a few minutes...." Not that the Galadhrim needed much directing; "aim at the orcs" was all they needed to know.

"I cannot see him!" Gimli shouted--though from where he was standing, his eyes just below the wall, he probably couldn't see much of anything.

"I saw him on the ground a little while ago." Legolas gestured with his knife. "By the entrance to the keep."

"There!" Debbie pointed, gesturing with the bow and accidentally loosing another arrow. She skewered two Uruks at once, but hardly noticed.

Legolas could just make out the Ranger, battling on the grand stone stairs that led to the keep. And then the great doors swung wide, and out poured Théoden and the best of the soldiers of Rohan, into the fray.

Debbie shuddered sympathetically as the charge swept the future King of Men aside. "Ooh, poor Aragorn. Falling off that walkway has *got* to hurt."

"He fell?! Poor laddie--he'll need a Dwarf's help now!" Gimli shouted, charging off.

Legolas turned to protest at the Dwarf's sudden absence, but found that Debbie was concentrating, lining up a shot. "What?" he asked.

"A friend of mine is out there, and it looks like he needs some help," she replied, her voice as steady as her hand.

Legolas followed her line of sight to the field below and spotted a most inept-looking Rohirric soldier poking at a fallen orc with his sword as if to satisfy himself that it was actually dead. An enormous Uruk-Hai stood behind the young man, raising a huge sword as if to cleave the soldier's head in two.

"Rick! Behind you!" Debbie muttered urgently. Though it was impossible he'd actually heard her, the young man looked up and, spotting Debbie on the battlements, waved cheerfully. In the same instant, she loosed her arrow, hitting the Uruk squarely between the eyes. It pitched over backward without a sound as Rick, oblivious, continued to beam up at her.

"That boy is lucky to know you, Lady Debbie," Legolas said with a low whistle. "Very lucky, indeed."

*******

Aragorn panted hard, having finally nearly regained his position after his rather undignified fall from the keep's walkway. Only one small leap across, and he'd be back in the thick of the battle, where he belonged. Suddenly, the wind was knocked out of him as he was corraled around the knees from behind.

"What foul trick is this?!" he shouted, trying in vain to catch a glimpse of his new assailant.

"Laddie, you're safe!"

"Gimli?" Aragorn continued to wiggle, trying to loose himself from the Dwarf's iron grip.

"We were afraid you'd perished!" Gimli let go long enough for Aragorn to turn around.

"No, no--I'm fine," the future King of Men assured him.

Suddenly, Gimli got what the Ranger thought was an altogether unsettling look in his eyes. "Toss me," he whispered hoarsely.

"You mean, throw you over there?" Aragorn asked. "I was just headed that way myself, and--"

"No, *toss* me!" the Dwarf repeated, demanding.

Realization dawned on Aragorn's mental horizon, and he took an unconscious step backward as he hissed, "What, here? There's a battle on, in case you haven't noticed."

"You've got to toss me!" Gimli cried. "I've caught your scent, Laddie, and that and the tide of battle have made it nigh impossible for me to wait!" He hugged the Ranger about the knees again, his face in a position that left the man both uncomfortable and strangely titillated.

"Um...."

"You cannot deny it!" the Dwarf continued. "Ever since Fangorn, I cannot forget--don't lie to yourself! You feel it, too."

Aragorn found that struggling against the Dwarf's hold intensified the situation, though for the better or the worse, he couldn't be certain. Finally, he surrendered. "All right...but I'm gonna need some beer."

"This is no time for drinking, Laddie!" Gimli shouted, using the force of his stout body to buckle the Ranger's knees. Suddenly, Aragorn found himself supine, and face to face with a very amorous Gimli. The Dwarf kissed him squarely on the lips, and the Ranger only made the situation more interesting by opening his mouth to protest just as the smooch was landed.

Aragorn felt it before he saw it--a cold, sharp point of metal against the skin of his neck. He pulled back to see the tip of an Evenstar pendant poking through the Dwarf's grizzled beard.

"By the Valar, not you too!" the Ranger shouted, pushing Gimli away. "Is there anyone in Middle-Earth my betrothed *hasn't* slept with?"

Gimli stood, hastily pushing the Evenstar under his beard.

Aragorn continued his ranting. "And you didn't even *know* her until Rivendell! How?! How did you manage it?! I was with her the entire time!"

"Not the entire time," Gimli replied smugly. "*You* have to sleep, you know. Elves don't."

Just then, the door behind them flew open and Debbie the White marched out, an armored Éowyn in tow. "Fearless Leader," she called to the Ranger as he lay on the stone. "Why were you kissing Gimli? I thought you said back near Amon Hen that the whole guy-kissing thing was only out of desperation."

"You saw?" Aragorn asked, aghast. "And Éowyn, too?"

"And everyone left in the keep, and those guys over there who are pointing up here and laughing, and--" Suddenly, Debbie shouted, "Duck!"

Aragorn thought it was a little silly for him to duck when he was already lying on the ground, but he closed his eyes anyway. When he opened them again, a huge Uruk lay dead to his left, its eyes puckered where it had taken a full-on dose of pepper spray.

"Don't you think you should get up now?" Debbie asked him, tapping her foot.

"No." Aragorn sighed. "I think I might just lie here a while and wait for the next passing Uruk-Hai to finish me off."

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