Authors Note - For the purposes of this story Tauriel never existed. Thus Legolas would not know of any woman that can fight, and thus he is a major jerk about the whole topic and situation.

Chapter 6: Lessons of the Blade

The knock at my door had me letting out a low groan of discontent as it pulled me out of pleasant dreams. Dreams of banana pancakes oozing in maple syrup, and by the time I fully woke up I found that one small patch of my pillow was damp with my own drool. It was not exactly the most glamorous ways to way up, especially in a place like Rivendell, and I had half a mind to go back to sleep. Sadly the insistent knocking would not allow me to fall asleep. It seemed that whoever was here wasn't going to let me rest, and all I could do was blearily push myself up from the bed and step out of the tangle of sheets. A quick look told me that it was not yet dawn, a quiet hush and soft darkness still hung upon the lands. It was enough to make me grumble under my breath about being woken up at 'stupid o'clock'. Ruffling a hand through my hair I didn't even think twice about opening the door in my pajamas, after all the local postman had seen worse when delivering my post to me in the mornings, and thus I didn't feel the least bit embarrassed about such things. The problem was the person that answered my door didn't look to be used to such things, a shade of red slowly painting itself over Boromir's face as he stood waiting at my door. Poor fellow, Middle Earth went by the rules of propriety and morality. So for him, seeing a woman in their thin pajamas was probably some kind of shameful thing.

"Oh. I apologize, my lady, I thought you would already be dressed for our sparring lesson."

He had turned away as he talked, averting his eyes to the wall as if it suddenly was the most interesting thing in the world. Men in my time hardly acted like this around ladies, if it had been the lecherous old man that came to the bank on Tuesdays - well he'd have been staring at my chest by now. Boromir was the ultimate definition of a gentleman, something long dead in the modern world. I couldn't help but to try and rearrange my hair, closing the door so that my body was out of sight. The movement, however, was more for his sake than mine.

"It is okay. Sorry, I just didn't think you would be by so early ... I .. well .. I am not a morning person"

That was honest enough, I really wasn't a morning person. I was used to waking up at a certain time, and usually by that time the sun was already up and I would have had a morning coffee by now. I had discovered, to my disappointment, that there was no coffee equivalent in middle earth. Thus most mornings I was pretty cranky. The hobbits, bless their hearts, had learned that lesson fast and usually waited until their 'second breakfast' to come visit me in the mornings. It made me sad to think that I wouldn't see them this morning due to my training, and I made a mental note in the back of my head to go and pop in on them later in the day. Providing, of course, that I was still able to stand up after my lesson. I was no expert on swordplay, but I was absolutely sure that waving around a heavy sword all morning would leave me aching all over. I coughed slightly and gave him a small smile as I stepped back from my door a bit.

"Just give me a moment to dress. I will be out shortly"

"Very well my lady, just don't take too long. The day is short and there is much to learn"

His words made me cringe internally. I didn't mind the respectful language of the world, in fact, it was kind of charming. However, I didn't much like being called 'my lady' as it made me feel old. Besides, I was hardly a lady! More like a tom-boy that wouldn't know the back or front of a dress if their life depended on it!. Sure I had dresses made for me by Elrond's tailor, but I had yet to wear them - much to the dismay of the elves. I spent most days wandering around in the traveling pants I had requested for this trip, and this had been met with quite strong disapproval. Why, it was almost as bad as the 'short dress' I arrived in that Elrond loved to complain about. Some days the elf sounded more like a father than he did anything else. With a shake of my head I made my way toward my closet, and carefully pulled out a comfortable outfit. Of course, I had to put on my now well worn and very comfortable pants. Once those were on I then paired them up with a beige colored and loose cotton shirt. I also had my undergarments, but there was nothing worth of note to them. They did their job and provided support, and that was all I could ask for - though it would have been nice if they had a little patterning on them. Perhaps I could ask Arwen to embroider them for me? The image of the elf embroidering my bra had me giggling girlishly as I pulled on my boots and walked out into the hallway to meet a rather confused Boromir.

"What is so funny my lady?"

"Oh. Nothing important. Shall we?"

I turned as I spoke, heading toward the training grounds. The pathway was now quite familiar to me, I had taken it upon myself to train my skill with the bow over the last few days, and I now felt more comfortable with my borrowed bow. This time, I would be training in the sword and the thought caused a sick sensation to fill in the pit of my stomach. Hopefully, Boromir wouldn't be throwing me in at the deep end, because if he did I would be dead before I could even think of lining up a guard to his swinging blade. I knew Boromir had likely trained a few men in his time given his rank as the captain of Gondor, so he would know what he was doing, but I still felt nervous that he might expect too much from me following my demonstration of skill with the bow. The sickening sensation only grew when I stepped out onto the training fields and noticed that Legolas was out there already, sitting on an overturned barrel and giving me one of his superior smiles. Clearly he was here to see me getting my ass handed to me, and I knew I would be teased mercilessly over every mistake I made. I was absolutely sure that this day was going to be the worst day in my life, and I turned my back to him and tried to put the elf out of my thoughts - especially as Boromir was now looking over several swords and testing them in his firm hands. After a few long minutes, he eventually settled on one, carefully turning the hilt in the palm of his hand as he walked toward me.

Once he was in front of me he handed the sword to me, and I was quite sure I was blushing like some kind of madman when he took one of my hands into his. A pleasant warmth blossomed in the pit of my stomach as he brushed his fingers over mine with a few thoughtful sounds. His eyes were half lidded, lips pursed as he examined my hands before stepping back once I had the sword hilt held firmly in my hands.

"You have never handled a blade before, you fingers hold no callous from wielding swords. Thus, we will start with the basics - mainly how to hold the blade and the correct stance"

I tried not to feel disappointed that this would be the content of my first lesson. In fantasy movies, the apprentice blades man would have had his first lesson by learning a few movement combos, and I had got it in my head that he would have done the same to me. But no, real life was very different apparently and I was going to be spending my morning how to hold a sword. Thinning my lips to a firm line I gave Boromir a nod to let him know I was ready to begin, feeling a firm resolve that I would be the best student he had ever had! As if sensing this Boromir moved around me, his foot tapping at my feet in a silent urging for me to move them, and I was more than happy to follow his urgings.

"We start with the stance, it is your foundation. If you can't keep your balance and move correctly, then all else will fall apart around it"

The feeling of hot air brushed over my ear as he drifted past my right side, a brief touch of his hand on my side adjusting the tilt of my hips ever so slightly. I tried not the gulp at the sensation. I was supposed to learn, not muse on the fact that this had suddenly become the hottest thing ever! I also had to remind myself to control my emotions. I was not going to allow myself to fall for Boromir, it was bad enough to have my body reacting to his closeness like some kind of rampant teenager - I was here to learn, not fantasise about having his arms around me as he taught me how to handle a sword. I could hear the soft fall of his feet as he passed behind my body, his slow pace carrying him around as he came back to the front. He paused a moment to look at my form, my legs held shoulder length apart in a firm and yet wide stance. Nodding slightly he then moved close to me again, hands wrapping around mine as he adjusted the way that I held to the sword.

"This blade is a hand and a half sword, while you can use both hands for it, you do not need to use both all the time. In time, you will learn to rely on your leading hand, with the other hand for support in the longer swings. This takes time, confidence is the key, as is experience. really I would have liked more time to train you, but with our departure in a few weeks time we will be forced to learn on the fly ... at some point you may even have to fight."

The poor fellow seemed worried at that thought, that he would be taking a warrior into possible battle that had not had the proper training. Heck even in my time there was usually months and years of training before military personnel were sent to the front line. I would get three weeks at most, with some scattered lessons while out on the open road, and while I knew it would be some time before the fellowship saw active combat I was still nervous for it never the less. What if I wasn't ready for it? I would have to be. The thought sobered me as I settled into the lesson at hand, trying to soak in everything that Boromir told me as guided me through the basic ready stance.

The hours passed quickly, or so it seemed. Time as always moved with the same pace, but my perception of its passage was altered by my focus upon the lesson. One moment the sun was barely in the sky, and the next time I noted it's position it was high in the sky. It felt like I had been out here for barely any time at all, and yet hours must have passed. While my brain could not comprehend the passage of time, my body clearly did. Every muscle ached, and I could feel the dampness of my shirt clinging to my skin. The heat of the day and the painfully long periods of holding a sword in one position had me sweating more than I ever had in my life. I hadn't even sweated this much when I went through that health kick three years ago and went on mid-afternoon jogs. I tried to put the thought of wet clothing out of my thoughts, my arms trembling slightly as I continued to hold my sword in the position that Boromir called the 'window guard'. Holding the sword above my shoulder level, I could feel my already taxed muscles screaming for a break. I wasn't going to give in to that desire. I wanted to succeed in this, I wanted him to be proud of me as a student. My body, however, had other ideas, and I slumped out of the stance. The tip of my blade coming to rest at the floor as I stood panting from my efforts.

"This is why women are not warriors. They don't have the endurance for it. Look at her, she can barely hold up the blade"

Legolas's words cut through my pride, making me cringe slightly. Could he not see I was trying my best here? I'd never held a sword before in my life, and in my eyes being able to put up with hours of training was pretty damned good. I turned on him, ready to give the elf a piece of my mind, and to my surprise I found that Boromir came to my defense before I could even say anything to the elf.

"She is much as you and I were when we first took up the blade. Do you not remember that? Perhaps you have forgotten that feeling because of your long life. I remember it, those first few weeks where my shoulders and arms ached from holding the blade. A woman she may be, but we were no different. She is doing well for her first day and a willing student. I would ask no more of her."

I turned to stare at Boromir, my eyes catching the look that he was throwing the elf. The man of Gondor was giving the elf a pretty good case of the 'stink eye' and to his credit the elf moved awkwardly in his sitting place. I gave out a slow sigh, fingers relaxing around the pommel of the blade, which felt like it was the only thing keeping me standing at that moment in time. The soft press of a hand in the small of my back had me jumping lightly, my eyes swinging round to find Boromir giving me an apologetic look.

"I am sorry to have pushed you for so hard for so long. Let us go to the kitchens and find some food"

The mention of food had my stomach rumbling painfully, and I was more than happy to follow him off the training fields. Every step caused my thighs to scream in agony, but the pain was worth it. Today I had started to learn a new skill, and that was worth any amount of pain that it would cause my body. I had survived this first lesson, and in the weeks to come I was sure things would grow to be less taxing. Especially once my muscles grew used to being used in such a way.

For now however I ached, and as I walked with Boromir toward the kitchens I couldn't help but hope the rest of my day would be given to resting for my next lesson in the morning.