Fight of the Rings - Éowyn v Arwen.
A girl named Éowyn with long, golden yellow hair was sitting on a stool, looking off as she contemplated what was about to happen. Around her were ropes tied to four posts, forming a ring. And the ring was in the middle of an amphitheatre. Sitting in the gallery around the amphitheatre were gathered representatives from the humans, the elves, her uncle and her foe’s mother and father, all had come to watch the forthcoming contest.
Éowyn had always dreamed of winning renown in battle. When the arguments began between the humans and the elves over the eastern provinces, she had beseeched her uncle to let her be the champion to settle the dispute in battle. It was always settled in battle; two champions from each side would meet and fight to resolve matters. She had asked and pleaded and begged to be the champion, she was sick of being a shieldmaiden, she wanted to know battle. Her uncle would probably have never allowed it until the elves proposed their champion...
Across from her was a girl named Arwen, daughter of Elrond and Celebrian, who ruled over Rivendell. She was half-elven with long, dark hair. She, too, looked deep in thought as she sat on her stool. She looked down at her hands. They were to be the instrument of settling their kingdom's quarrel; it would be settled with combat.
When Arwen heard of Éowyn's entreaties to be a champion, she put her name forward. In her two thousand, seven hundred years of life, she had never known battle; she had been feted for her beauty, but others had always fought for her. She was determined that, for once, she would fight for herself, for her people. There was also the issue of Aragon. She was not blind to the way that the little monkey whore tried to throw those fat sacks of hers in Aragon's face, every opportunity she got. She was looking forward to explaining to the monkey why she could not have him.
Arwen's father, Elrond, spoke. "You ladies both know what's at stake. You've both had the rules explained to you. There are none. You can do whatever you need to do to make your opponent submit”.
It was Éowyn's uncle Théoden's turn to speak; he was holding a glowing jewelled sceptre. "We don’t want you disfigured, but also we don’t want you to hold back. So, no matter what you do, with this sceptre, we will be able to reverse the effects and return you to normal once the fight is over. We want this to be a true test of your strength and your spirit. Please, girls, do not hold back."
At this point, Arwen's silver-haired mother, Celebrian, stood up to address them. She was well known as a woman of peace and calmness.
"One more thing. Profanity is allowed in these contests. Given the emotion and the pain involved in such conflicts, it is inevitable. Do not hold back..."
"...You can fucking swear as much as you fucking want to!" She said this with a smile on her face.
Arwen's mouth dropped at the words of her mother. Her mother! She had never heard her swear ever. She continued.
“Do you both understand what is required of you?”.
Both girls nodded.
Elrond and Théoden both grasped the sceptre they had borrowed for this occasion from Gandalf, who had been more than happy to help once its purpose was explained. They repeated the incantation they had been told, “fac utrumque”. Arwen began glowing orange, then shimmered; her vision blurred. When her vision cleared, she was now looking into Éowyn's eyes, not the top of her head. She still had her ears; she was not fully human, but her height and superior eleven strength and endurance were gone; they were now evenly matched. Arwen had insisted on this; she did not want anyone to claim she had won her victory because of her superior height or because she was an elf. She wanted to win her victory because she was the better fighter.
Her father had said she was wrong; in any fight, you use all your strengths and your foe’s weaknesses to gain victory. However, Arwen disagreed; in this case it was essential to demonstrate how hard she would fight for the interests of her subjects when she became Queen. Éowyn was less concerned; she wanted to prove she could fight and would fight regardless of the odds. She would have been just as happy to fight a fifty-foot stone-giant; she wanted the chance to show what she could do.
As she watched Arwen shrink to her size, she studied her closely. She was now the same size but willowier. Long, elegant legs and modest-sized breasts, luxurious, long dark hair. Yes, she was attractive, but she couldn't see what Aragon saw in her when he could have a real woman. Inside, Éowyn felt relieved that she no longer physically intimidated her. She looked regal and beautiful, but could she fight? Not as well as her, she was sure. She would defeat her in front of Aragon, proving who the better woman was, and she would show that pointy-eared, leaf-licking, overgrown fairy that she should stay with her own kind.
Arwen looked into the eyes of the Lady? Girl? (These brief human lives, you could never be sure) who she was going to fight. She was heavier, stockier, and less graceful than her. A typical Human brute, worse, she smelled of one. Dammit! The sceptre hadn’t turned off her Elf sense of smell.
Elrond spoke.
"Éowyn, Lady of Rohan, daughter of the House of Eorl, niece of King Théoden of Rohan. Are you ready for combat?"
"Yes", Éowyn felt her mouth go dry; her heart was beating like a drum. This was it, this was her moment to prove herself.
Théoden now spoke.
"Arwen Undómiel, Lady of Rivendell. Daughter of Elrond, Lord of Rivendell, and Celebrian, daughter of the Elf-queen Galadriel, ruler of Lothlórien. Are you ready to do combat?"
"Yes". Arwen felt both fear and excitement. This was her chance to fight for her people. She would not let them down. She would make them proud of her. This was her moment to prove herself.
Théoden and Elrond spoke in unison.
"Begin!"
The two girls lifted themselves off their stools and kicked them out of the way. They were both clad in short-skirted white dresses, Arwen's with a silver leaf girdle. The short skirts showcased the beauty of their legs, as well as allowing for greater freedom of movement. They were both barefoot, freedom of movement again. Their nails were trimmed back to make it easier to form a fist, all-important considerations for the forthcoming conflict that both wanted to win.
When their eyes met, they stared silently, looking for an unspoken signal to come at one another.
It was Éowyn who moved first, pulling her fists up and charging forward. She was not a shieldmaiden anymore; she was a warrior. She flung her fist forward, catching Arwen by surprise.
Arwen’s hands came up instinctively, but the blonde's knuckles passed untouched through them, hitting the dark-haired woman in the eye and causing her to stagger.
Éowyn continued and swung her other fist out, trying to catch the backpedalling princess. This time, Arwen was so off balance that Éowyn's fist flew easily between Arwen's guard, smashing into her nose. She squealed as the blood burst from her nostrils.
Arwen was forced against the ropes as Éowyn crowded in to punish the princess. Arwen’s hands came up instinctively, but the blonde's knuckles sailed past them, hitting Arwen in the eye and causing her to stagger. Éowyn thought that it would be for the best if she could get it over with quickly; she could make it an easy fight.
Arwen grunted as she focused on blocking the strikes Éowyn sent at her. The knuckles hurt as they hit her fists, but she knew she was lucky she wasn't up against some kind of professional pugilist. She knew she had to fight back.
Éowyn felt the thud against her arm and instinctively lashed her fist out in a wide hook, but the fist sailed low, and the blonde's eyes widened when Arwen buried her fist into the girl's tit. For the first time in her life, her breast was exposed to pain. She stuttered back and clenched her breast. Before she could do anything else, Arwen was pushing herself off the ropes and bounding at Éowyn.
The fist clocked Arwen in the side of the jaw, and her head snapped to the side as an unladylike spray of saliva flew from her lips. She grunted and stumbled, only to turn and see an incoming uppercut. It slammed into her chin, and she was lifted off her feet and fell to the hard ground on her back. She felt dazed and looked up to see Éowyn standing over her. Smiling, motioning for her to get up. Arwen shook her head and slowly rose to her feet, staggering.
Éowyn charged, and Arwen threw herself forward. She greeted Éowyn with a fist that met the blonde’s belly before Éowyn's could reach her. Éowyn folded forward, and Arwen caught her, their bodies pressed together. Both discovered that neither was wearing a bra, blushing at the clash of their sensitive breasts and erect nipples.
Arwen was still planning her strategy while Éowyn began to slam fists into Arwen's side, causing the dark-haired beauty to gasp as her kidneys were viciously assaulted. She shoved Éowyn away, then, after a moment, she threw a roundhouse at Éowyn. The blonde dodged the blind swing and smashed Arwen with a hard punch to her nose. Arwen stumbled again, expelling a shower of blood from her nostrils. Wildly, she swung out, hitting Éowyn's chest. She gasped. Arwen swung a left hook with her other fist, looking as though she was going to punch the blonde fighter’s boobs right off. She had noticed that it was a sore spot and thought targeting that area might make Éowyn submit.
Éowyn fended off the breast assault as best as she could, but as another fist managed to sink into her breast, she yelped. She tried to fight the instinct to hold onto her sore breasts, and once again, she caught another fist to the face from Arwen. Her jaw was aching now, and another shot to the forehead caused her to flop against the turnbuckle.
Éowyn fought back, swinging hard, aiming for Arwen's eye, and it was Arwen's turn to fall against the ropes, slouching. Her vision went white for a second as Éowyn saw it as an opportunity to finish the dark-haired beauty off. She swung her fists up and began to pound Arwen's face side to side, marring it with cuts and blackening one of her eyes.
Arwen retaliated by throwing herself forward and wrapping her arms around Éowyn in a bear hug. She squeezed the girl's arms together so she wouldn't get hit with more kidney shots as she tried to figure out just what to do.
Éowyn gasped at the crushing pressure. Her arms were trapped. She was trapped. Didn't elves have superior strength to humans? Had the sceptre accounted for that? It had. Théoden and Elrond had decided that it would be safer to give Arwen the attributes of a human rather than give Éowyn the strength, height and endurance of an elf, but Éowyn didn't know that.
Arwen was squeezing so tight that Éowyn was finding it hard to breathe. Could she break her ribs? Éowyn fought down the panic. Her chin was resting on Arwen’s shoulders. Then she saw a target, the ears. Her mouth opened, she hesitated, then she remembered the words 'don't hold back'. Fuck it, she thought, the sceptre will grow it back. She chowed down on the elven ear, with all her might, tasting that metallic tang. Arwen screamed. Desperately, she battered punch after punch into Éowyn’s eye; she could feel it beginning to swell, but she would not release her bite. In fact, she bit down harder, severing the lobe with a spray of blood. Arwen screamed hysterically.
Vowing vengeance, Arwen started uppercutting Éowyn’s stomach, burying her fist into the soft flesh, making her eyes bulge and her mouth open in gasps, spraying spittle, blood and part of an ear on the floor. Arwen’s next gut punch sent Éowyn back against the ropes. She leaned back as Arwen went for her hair, yanking it down so her neck was across a rope at a crazy angle, her head facing the ceiling.
“My ear, you Fucking bitch!”
Arwen roared as she rained punches down on Éowyn's face. Her face marred with bruises, blood flowing from her nose and lips, but Arwen looked no better, and her fucking ear!
The crowd went silent. Although they had expected it, it was still a shock to hear one of such noble birth utter such profanity.
Eowyn wiped blood from her mouth.
"Fuck you, it'll grow back. Crybaby!"
Éowyn clamped her legs around Arwen's waist and squeezed. Arwen gasped. She pushed at the legs, trying to push them apart. Éowyn just pulsed her clamp harder, trying to snap Arwen in half. Her leg muscles stood out as they strained. Arwen gasped; she could feel her breath being cut off. She locked her hands together, raised them and slammed them into Éowyn's stomach. Spittle flew out of Éowyn's mouth. Her legs sprang open in shock. Arwen grabbed Éowyn's feet and pulled. Éowyn hit the floor on her back, groaning.
Arwen raised her foot for a stomp. Éowyn caught it. Biting into the foot. Arwen screamed as she tried to pull it back, but it was trapped. Éowyn got to her knees and, with a surge, threw the foot into the air. Arwen overbalanced and fell to the floor. Éowyn, still on her knees, threw herself at Arwen.
Both enraged, filled with bloodlust, they grabbed hair and pulled. They rolled across the floor of the ring. Éowyn's hands went for Arwen's mouth, pulling it. Arwen launched a slap into Éowyn's face. They threw everything they had at each other now; slapping, pinching, grabbing, clawing, gouging and groping at anything they could get their hands on. Their sweat-coated bodies made their robes stick to their bodies like a second skin. On top, Arwen pulled at Éowyn's hair, slamming the back of her head into the floor. Éowyn's palm shot up, clocking Arwen on the chin as she pulled her off by the hair.
The audience was stunned. This was not whores brawling in a backstreet tavern. These were noblewomen, but they fought with such fury, such bloodlust. They made those brawling whores look like the members of a knitting circle.
Arwen was crouching on the floor, Éowyn leapt on her back, her arm around her throat, her hand tangled in her hair. Arwen launched herself back. Landing with a thud on top of Éowyn. Arwen rolled on top, seizing Éowyn's left arm and, with her legs braced against Éowyn's body, twisted. The blonde screeched at the pain. Determined to fight back, she half rolled, her free hand clawed, Arwen's eyes the target. Alarmed, Arwen dropped the hand she'd been twisting and went for the hand that was aiming to gouge out her eyes. They grappled, arms trying to get each other in a headlock. Rolling across the ring.
When they came to a stop. Arwen ended up lying behind Éowyn and trapped in a headlock, her face was being pressed against the blonde's bosom, the headlock and having her face smothered in Éowyn's meaty tit was depriving her of precious oxygen. Her face was purple as she felt herself getting dizzy. Her senses were assaulted by the sweaty smell of human. Desperate to escape, Arwen took the only logical course of action; she opened her mouth and bit down hard on those fat sacks that humans seemed to like so much. Don't hold back. Éowyn screamed. She hit Arwen in the head. She pulled at Arwen's hair. Arwen's central incisors sliced into her nipple. Éowyn's screams hit a crescendo. But the tit remained trapped in the teeth, the flesh stretching out with droplets of blood starting to show around the severed nipple.
"Cocksucking whore!"
Éowyn cried out as she swung her arms out. Bringing them together like she was clashing a cymbal with Arwen's ears in the middle. She screamed. Her ears felt like they were shattered, and she rolled off Éowyn, releasing her bite. Sobbing Éowyn rose, examining her severed bloody nipple. Her blood-covered breast hanging out of her robe for all to see.
She touched the bloody stump that used to be a nipple, and she looked at Arwen.
"Tree fucker!" she snarled.
"Oh, go fuck an orc". Arwen snarled back. "It'll grow back, crybaby, and anyway, you smell fucking human!"
She held her nose with a disgusted look on her face, spitting blood on the floor and the stump of a nipple. She made sure Eowyn saw it; she wanted her to see it. She made a show of touching what was left of her ear and smiled. When Éowyn saw the nipple stump, her face was full of rage.
"Fucking fairy!"
In the gallery, Elrond turned to Théoden, and they both stared at the sceptre.
"I hope this works". He said.
"Me too...Gandolf won't let us down...". Théoden agreed.
"...Looks like we underestimated their fighting spirit", he added.
"Your daughter is a fierce fighter". Théoden said, amazed at the violence he had seen.
"Your niece too...". Elrond agreed. He had known little Éowyn since she was a baby. Who would have guessed that such an innocent creature was capable of such acts?
"...I'm glad we didn't let them use weapons!"
Éowyn smashed her fist into Arwen's stomach, driving her back into the ropes. Her knuckles windmilled at Arwen's face.
Ignoring the blizzard of fists aimed at her, Arwen's knee smashed into Éowyn's stomach. Following up, her joined hands crashed like an axe handle into her enemy's back. Éowyn gasped as the pain splintered through her body. She moved away, still windmilling those arms, trying to keep her opponent at bay.
Arwen approached her, trying to dodge her enemy's grasping hands. The blonde fighter seized Arwen's robes by the sleeves, yanking them down like a straitjacket. Trapping her arms and then turning her to face her, she unleashed a barrage of forehands and backhands at Arwen's face. Arwen tried to strike back, launching savage kicks at her tormenter, aiming for the crotch, but only tagging her thighs.
As Éowyn's onslaught of blows drove her back into the ropes. Arwen spun out of control, barely staying on her feet as Éowyn chased her along the ropes. Arwen screeched in anger. Modesty be damned, she tore the robe off, leaving herself bare to the waist. Her modest yet perfectly shaped breasts were topped with small cherry-sized aureoles and long, elegant nipples.
It just provoked a murmur from the audience; they were not in a local tavern. These were the breasts of royalty. Whose father, the king, was in the audience.
Arwen's flat palm crashed into Éowyn's chest. Violently compressing the blonde's chest with a stabbing pain from the severed nipple.
She staggered before responding with a forearm smash to Arwen's breasts. Making a loud smacking sound.
Arwen staggered back on unsteady legs. Before unleashing a chop to Éowyn's sore, bloodied breasts.
"Submit!" Arwen demanded.
"Never!" came the reply.
Éowyn screamed as she unleashed another forearm to Arwen's tortured rack. She staggered back, tripping over her feet, falling to her knees.
Hissing in delight. Éowyn moved in, grabbing Arwen's long, dark hair, the once luxurious hair, now a sweaty mess. She raised the raven-haired woman's head as her fists rose, ready to bring them down, to smash her face in.
In a flash, Arwen's fingers shot upwards into Éowyn's crotch. Don't hold back. Éowyn croaked out in pain as Arwen's fingers ripped out her pubic hair. The blonde's eyes widened in pain. As she sank to her knees from the agony. Her clawed hand shot out for Arwen's crotch. She gasped in pain, but she doubled down on her attack on Éowyn's womanhood. Éowyn cried out as she thrust her fingers in deeper. The flimsy satin panties they wore provided no protection
They knelt on the floor, attacking each other's crotches with a raw savagery. With their other hand tearing at wet, sodden hair. Arwen's forehead rested on the blonde brawler's sweat-drenched shoulder, while Eowyn's chin rested on hers. The audience could see their hands working mechanically down below as grunts and moans echoed around the amphitheatre. Tears streamed from their eyes, their faces red as they strove to endure the torture longer than their foe. Fingers were thrust deep into their foe's crotch, then the fingers curled and ripped out.
Éowyn released her foe's hair and grabbed her nipple between thumb and forefinger and squeezed. Arwen screamed and pushed with her fingers into Éowyn's severed nipple, her finger sinking deep into the titflesh, twisting it with savage fury. Éowyn's scream turned to sobs.
Éowyn drove her fingers as far in as she could before tearing her fingers out, while using her other hand to yank the nipple down to the ground. Not satisfied with the damage she was inflicting, she opened her mouth and bit down on Arwen's neck. She provoked a fear-filled sob of pain from her foe. Éowyn moved her neck out of the way so her rival could not attack hers.
All that could be heard was grunts and moans, as the two girls mauled each other to destruction. Both women knew that once the fight was over, the sceptre would restore them. Therefore, the only thing to do was to endure more pain than your opponent to disfigure her until she submitted.
Arwen renewed her attack on her foe's severed nipple and womanhood, clawing with a savage fury. Éowyn returned the fury with her attacks, twisting Arwen's breast and ripping her fingers from her twat, increasing her devouring of the neck as blood flowed from her enemy's neck, as she gnawed, searching to find an artery. Both were determined to destroy their rival, to be the victor, no matter the cost.
The audience was stunned. Elrond and Théoden watched tensely. Wondering how much longer this savage contest could continue. Both women were freely sobbing now. But their hands would not stop, tearing at each other's bodies, unceasingly, without mercy.
Until...
"I submit!"
The voice sounded weak, distant. Nobody could tell who had surrendered. Until slowly, unsteadily, Éowyn rose. Arwen stayed where she was, holding her crotch and sobbing. Although her attack on Éowyn's severed nipple and pussy had been excruciating, Éowyn's onslaught on her neck had proved to be the deciding factor.
Weakly, Éowyn raised her hands in victory. The blood on her hand, her blood-covered bare breast and her blood-stained skirt a testament to the savagery of their conflict.
Her eyes had a glazed look to them as she walked towards the ring ropes. Her legs buckling, she fell to the floor.
Elrond and Théoden both held the sceptre, repeated the words they had been given, "Fac omnia sicut erant", and an orange glow animated from it. This time, both Arwen and Éowyn glowed, shimmered. Their faces, once so battered and bruised, looked beautiful and unblemished again. Gingerly, Éowyn touched her nipple; it was still attached. She breathed a sigh of relief. Once their daughter and niece were restored, Théoden and Elrond went to comfort and congratulate the girls. They had both proven themselves to be fierce fighters and had proven to be able to endure the pain that was needed to fight for their people.
Having received the accolades from her adopted family, Éowyn walked back to Arwen, who was still on her knees, sobbing. Being comforted by Aragon, Éowyn bitterly noted, even though she had proven herself to be the better woman. The bloodlust, which had consumed them both during the fight, was gone. The pain that had racked their bodies was gone. Arwen sobbed now only for her loss.
As she looked at her weeping vanquished foe, Éowyn realised the time for fighting was over. Now was the time for the peacemakers. She had learnt much from her uncle; she knew the elven people were good allies. She had proven herself as a fighter; now she would prove herself as a stateswoman.
"You know you fight pretty good for a leaf licker...".
She smiled as she put her hand on the sobbing girl's shoulder.
"...Your people will be lucky to have a Queen who would fight so hard for them".
Éowyn extended her hands to Arwen, who accepted them. Éowyn helped her to stand. With her natural six-foot height restored, along with her clothes, all courtesy of the sceptre, she was now upright, towering over Éowyn. Arwen looked down at Éowyn's head.
"You know you fight pretty good for a shrimp. You deserved your victory".
Arwen, a diplomat herself, acknowledged Éowyn's victory.
"I was lucky, that's all". Éowyn replied.
Éowyn didn't think that was true. She won because she was the better fighter, but she didn't want to say that now. Now was the time for diplomacy.
"You have won his dispute, the lands are yours". Arwen admitted. Then she looked towards Aragon.
"But know this, there are some things you will never take from us".
Éowyn acknowledged the statement, looking at the way Aragon looked at Arwen, not her, the victor.
"Yes, I think you're right".
"You girls fought hard and bravely..." Elrond said as he comforted his daughter.
"...but I doubt you would have fought so hard if you didn't have the sceptre to restore you".
Arwen and Éowyn exchanged a glance. They knew the truth.
Arwen spoke for both of them.
"I would always do what is necessary for the defence of my kingdom, father". She said.
A more diplomatic answer than, 'I was this close to tearing the bitches ovaries out and making her eat them, if she hadn't been ripping open my throat'.
She loved her father, but despite being married to one for how many thousands of years, he didn't get women, did he?
