The Lord of the Rings: The Banshee Queen

Chapter 21

Muffled feminine voices muttered and chattered yet I heard every word they said.
"He looks tasty. Why don't we carve him up like a roast pig and maybe"-
"Shut up, you crawling pus-filled slug! He is hers and hers only! He is our new Queen's great lover!"
I was too afraid to open my eyes; I begged myself to never open them, but when I did, I was staring up at a ceiling, hearing those voices hissing and giggling.
"He is awake!"
The first figure I saw I immediately recognized from my nightmare back at Minas Tirith.
A stormy gray cloak of silk curled at the black leather that encased her feet and in her left hand was an oak staff decorated with mottled flowers and a bird skull.
Around her neck was an ivory necklace adorned with colorful beads, her right wrist bearing a gaudy bracelet.
A cascade of cornsilk-colored tresses fell past her hips and she grinned, displaying a row of knife-edged teeth.
"You are awake...finally."
She caressed my features, those rings cold to the touch.
"Do not be afraid, young Halfling. Allow me to introduce myself: I am Yusayt, the loyal advisor to the Banshee Queen. Unfortunately, Jafilyn has been dead for too long of a time, but we know her daughter will make for an excellent replacement. We shall feed you soon, dearest, with the most splendid feast the Banshees can provide for you."
Rage burned inside me.
Gritting my teeth, I snarled, "Where is Dawn? What have you done to her?"
She puckered her lips and returned, "She is being washed and dressed. She will be better when you see her again. The robes she wore when we found you were appalling. That isn't what the daughter of Jafilyn should wear. And I'm certain you have been well-acquainted with those Scavengers of ours; I can smell their stench on you."
So this is what Banshees truly looked like; their faces were disturbingly lovely and it was easy to see them as who they really were: cold and heartless she-beasts.
Glaring at her was enough for me to want to take that staff of hers and ram it up her bottom.
I shivered, chafing my arms until my skin reddened and I realized I was stripped bare.
"I'll order you a bath as well, but don't think we'll give you some robes."

A green-haired Banshee, Rydja, spoon-fed me a bowl of meat stew and dabbed the hot liquid off my chin.
The temptation to wring her neck was powerful yet freezing iron prevented me from doing so.
"Aww," she cooed, squishing my cheeks. "Is the meal good for you? It'll warm up that scrawny little Halfling body of yours."
"I still say we oughta fatten 'im up like a chicken. I'm starving and Yusayt has forbidden me from going to the royal pantry!" complained the same Banshee from earlier.
Rydja struck her claws across the other Banshee's blue-tinted face, vivid red marks trickling.
"You never shut up about food, you stupid slithering maggot," she spat.
"He is not for eating! If I so much as see you look at the Halfling, I will get Yusayt and you never want to get her angry."
I watched them bicker back and forth, shouting insults and cursing.
"The Queen will have to pry me off of him. Not even she can stop me from feeding. You know I have always wanted to taste Halfling-flesh, " the hungry Banshee snapped, licking her lips before Rydja implanted a blade in her neck, flower-scented blood spraying.
I screamed and spilled the bowl over, the chain tight on my own throat.
This was all because one of them wanted to eat me.
Rydja kicked the stone-dead body aside and smiled at me.
"Forgive me, young Halfling. You have no idea how good it feels to finally get rid of Oeaz; she talked about almost nothing but food. Speaking of which, do you still have an appetite?"
I shook my head and swallowed down vomit, the sensation in my throat burning.
"Good. Because we need to take you to her."

Rydja jerked on the chain and I gasped for air, tears rolling past my cheeks.
"Please," I pleaded. "Take this off of me."
"Not until you see Her Majesty," she growled. "Once you see her, you'll be begging to be inside her."
Her words were filthy.
I was only glad they were finally taking me to see Dawn.
No matter what she was going to look like, she was always going to be my Dawn.
Rydja was silent as she dragged me to the massive throne room.
This tower was not beautiful despite the wicked maidens that lived within.
Iron chandeliers hung from the high ceiling, the candles burning and melting.
The grand hall radiated evil; there was nothing but decaying architecture and framed behind the amethyst-and-bone encrusted obsidian throne was a glass coffin; the Banshee skeleton inside had her arms crossed, her red gown tattered and instead of teeth, rows upon rows of decayed fangs grinned horribly.
Her bones bleached white, bits of rotten flesh sagging off them.
Beneath the coffin was a shining golden plaque and I read what was engraved in it.

Here lies Queen Jafilyn
Our Mother, Our Highest, Our Love
The Grandest of All Banshees
May Her Child Bring Us Power

This was her, completely decomposed and hanging on their walls.
On that throne, her hairless feet resting on the ottoman, was who I begged to see.
"Dawn," I uttered.