CHAPTER TWELVE
Oh Valar how he wished he could kiss her! But he knew he couldn't without dire consequences. He knew that Lothrin was going through a very difficult time. She had recently lost two men to the blades of orc scum, and then her second in command betrayed her.
So instead of kissing her, he gently laid his forehead against hers. Her starry blue eyes opened to stare at him in confusion. "Lothrin, I wanted to…"
Lothrin blinked, and then smiled in understanding. "What, apologize? Why?"
"Because I was partly responsible for Belegorn's actions. I goaded him on, as well as the fact that he thought he was protecting your honor."
"You know that is fallacy, don't you? He has been angry at you for so long that I can barely even remember when he wasn't. He just finally snapped."
Haldir suddenly realized that he was still holding her close to him, and she was dressed in fairly light training clothes. He felt the faintest of blushes touch the tips of his ears as he let her go awkwardly. "You were preparing to do something?" he asked softly.
Lothrin looked oddly disappointed when she answered. "I was heading towards the archery range to train a little."
"Ah. Swords or archery?"
"Swords preferably, if someone will fight me."
Haldir smiled. "I would not mind sparring with you."
Lothrin frowned at him. "But you're wounded!"
His smile grew wider. "Ah, but Anor is shining, it is a beautiful day, and the trees can be heard singing softly! How could I lose?" he asked, but instead of the usual smug tone, he was instead speaking with a hint of laughter, jesting his own inability to fight.
Lothrin looked doubtful, but eventually she shrugged and then nodded, and the two commanders made their way to the archery range. As they walked along the walkways of Caras Galadhon, Haldir uncomfortably shifted his left arm, which was encased in a much sturdier sling. Before the wound had simply been a large stab wound in his shoulder. It hurt quite a large amount, but it hadn't really been all that bad. But when Belegorn had struck him there, it had severely traumatized the entire shoulder. Now the entire shoulder was bruised, and reopening the wound wasn't very good at all, obviously.
He was definitely grateful that Elrond had been there. The Lord of Imladrís was without a doubt one of the best healers Haldir ever had the honor of treating him. It was because of him that Haldir could even hope to spar.
Finally they arrived at the ranges, and they both strode over to the dueling circles, possibly the only sand lot in the entirety of Lorien. The loose footing of the sand helped elven warriors get used to having to fight in obscure conditions.
"Shall we use live blades or training swords?" Lothrin asked.
"I'd say wooden swords. I'm not sure if I would be able to effectively block and parry with a steel sword without getting wounded even more."
Lothrin nodded, and ran over to the confines of the armory to get the weapons. Within a minute she returned, clutching a standard five-foot-long Elven sword for herself, and a sword that was modeled after Elrond's sword, Hadhafang. If Haldir wasn't mistaken, that particular sword was now being used by Arwen.
He caught the sword as it was thrown to him, and spun it experimentally in his hand, testing its weight and balance as Lothrin did the same with hers. I wonder why she chose that particular sword. She is more proficient with a hand-and-a-half sword, much like my own. Why did she choose that sword?
Lothrin readied her footing, and her hands slid to the top and bottom of the two-and-a-half foot long hilt. Haldir readied his own blade, and prepared to fight, unaware of the slight crowd that had already gathered.
He slowly strode towards the commander of the Royal Guard, eyes fastened to the center of her chest, the one area of the body where all other parts of the body could be seen. In a flash she struck, leaping forward and swinging the sword in a short arc, the blade scything through the air audibly.
Haldir brought the back of his sword's blade against his side, and the two weapons connected with a loud crack. Haldir parried with a grunt, having to throw his weight behind his sword to shove Lothrin's aside.
And because he threw his entire weight behind the wing he was able to strike swiftly. His blade whistled through the air towards Lothrin's right arm, but suddenly her sword was there, and again the swords met with a resounding crack. But before Lothrin had a chance to counterattack he struck again for her head.
He smirked as Lothrin's blade moved up to meet his, but he swung his arm so his blade whipped over the top of hers to arc towards her unguarded side. Before he could make contact she brought the handle of her sword around so that his attack was blocked by the hilt.
For over two hours they sparred, neither willing to give an inch, and neither wishing to be defeated. Anor set, and Ithil rose in her majestic glory. By now quite a crowd had gathered, and silent bets as to whom would win flitting through the gathering.
And Haldir was tired! His left arm burnt as though it was immersed in the fires of Orodruin. Sweat covered both his body in a slick layer, his arm shaking as he strove to swing his sword again and again.
Giving a hoarse shout, he threw everything into his last attack, his wooden blade almost screaming from the speed it was swung at. Lothrin also swung with all her might, and their swords met with an explosive crack as the two weapons broke at the exact point where they last struck each other.
Haldir just stared at Lothrin in shock before he sighed and brought his hand up, clenching it into a fist. Lothrin visibly shuddered as she brought up her own hands, though she kept them loose.
Wearily they charged each other, and Lothrin jabbed out at Haldir. "Too slow!" he hissed softly to himself as his own hand darted out and grabbed her wrist. He twisted her arm around her back, and forced her to her knees by pushing her hand towards the back of her head. As she bent forward in pain, Haldir couldn't help but fall with her, catching himself on his knees.
As he held her arm he noticed so many things about Lothrin that it made him dizzy. She too was sweaty, making her skin glow with the moisture. Her body heat called out to him, driving him almost crazy with an emotion that seemed to consume his body.
Nor had he ever really noticed just how curved, how feminine her body was. Her body seemed absolutely perfect to Haldir, completely flawless. Her muscles rippled smoothly under her skin, and he ached to simply run his hand over her body, memorizing the separate locations of all her muscles, so he knew her body like no other elf did. She smells like the flower elanor, so sweet yet intoxicating.
Coming back to his senses, he cleared his throat. "Do you yield?"
When she replied, her voice was so soft that he barely even heard her. "Yes, I yield. You've won."
He released her, and they both dropped onto the forest floor, sitting tiredly, trying to get their breaths back. "Lothrin, next time…please doesn't hold back if I'm wounded. An orc wouldn't." When she nodded, he fell back onto the grass, and decided that just laying there and not moving was the best idea for the next hour or so…
