Hi people around the world!
First of all, I want to thank Celridel for her immense help in being the beta of this story. Also I want to thank d'elfe, BackstreetGirl and idon'thaveaname for their interesting reviews.
So, in the last chapter Laura started her training as a soldier. Let's see how it goes for her and something very strange that will happen between her and Lord Glorfindel.
Waiting for your reviews, guys!
Chapter 48: Taming the Tiger
If Laura had found the Facility training difficult, she soon discovered that Gondolin's instruction was not far behind. The Facility had wanted to produce a mindless, emotionless automaton. Gondolin wanted to create a perfect soldier, one who was not only physically fit, but intelligent, creative, and discerning, as well as kind to the poor and defenseless.
Every day, as soon as dawn announced itself to the skies, the recruits were lined up the training field. They learned to somersault and roll while in full armor, to mount their horses from the ground, with no other hold than a grip on the mane, to climb two walls an arm's length apart and as tall as a tower without slipping on the ascent or descent, to swim or run a mile in minutes. They were schooled with various weapons, taught to fight successfully apart or in a group, versed in various war tactics, and showed the basic arts of healing to minimize fatalities on the battlefield.
Despite the arduousness, Laura greatly enjoyed the training and the challenges it gave her. But the Elf Lords demanded strict obedience, and a part of her rebelled fiercely at their disciplinarian ways. Another thorn in her side was how many of the other recruits saw her as weak and inadequate. They made quiet comments about her when they believed she was out of hearing, especially one named Peleccion, a handsome Noldo with an unmistakable swagger.
Laura struggled: she was used to being the oppressor, not the oppressed. She had always gotten respect, one way or another, and now it had suddenly been stripped away from her entirely. But she did her best to clench her fists and walk away. She wanted, with an intensity that surprised and even frightened to her, to be admitted into Glorfindel's House and there serve Gondolin by his side. She did not think she was asking for too much. She knew love was out of the question, but she could at least be with him and that would be enough for her.
Most likely.
The Lords were aware of the problems Laura was facing, but they also saw that she was very high in her class. Her ability to learn and fight was amazing, but they were troubled by the remnants of the cold, bloodthirsty assassin that still lay inside. Several times a Lord had been forced to intervene and pull Laura away from one of her tormenters, and she had been punished multiple times.
But despite these aggravations, Laura continued to change. It was Glorfindel, of course, that forced the vitiated seed of the woman inside to finally grow its first leaf.
The cell she was in was a cube of stone cut into the wall of the Training Square, with a door made from slender steel bars, that let light in but nothing out.
Laura was on the ground, doing one-armed pushups, her face rigid and strained, not with concentration but with anger.
A shadow, delineated by moonlight, fell over her, and the door opened almost silently, but she kept her head down.
"What are you doing?" Glorfindel asked.
"What do you think I'm doing, Glorfindel?"
His voice was sharp and commanding. "On your feet! When I speak to you, you will stand and answer me with respect."
Laura got slowly to her feet, looking at him. "Okay, Glorfindel. What I'm doing are push-ups."
"I am not Glorfindel, Laura Kinney. I am a Lord. You will use my full title when addressing me."
Laura arched a surprised eyebrow. "What? Why the big change? Is it because I got put in time-out?"
"Precisely, soldier," he said grimly.
"Well, I'm not a soldier yet," Laura snapped back.
Glorfindel's eyes flashed blue fire. "And you never will be with that behavior. Now answer, soldier! What are you doing?"
Laura stared at him, swallowing her anger with an effort. "Push-ups."
"What did you say?"
"Push-ups" she repeated.
"What did you say?"
"I said push-ups!" she flared.
"I know what you said: what you did not say was 'my lord.'" Glorfindel answered crisply.
Laura snorted. "Yes, my Lord."
"I did not hear you, soldier!"
"Yes, my Lord," she almost shouted, then muttered under her breath, "Wow, what an honor to call you that."
But Lord Glorfindel heard her and before Laura expected any movement, his sword was drawn and leveled at the woman's chest. Ice blue eyes like the cold of a winter morning gazed intently at her. Laura did not move, only held his gaze. He could read that the woman was ready and willing to fight...but not him. That was what he wanted to know. He lowered the sword and sheathed it in one smooth gesture.
"Laura, what are you are doing is wrong," he said quietly. "If you continue to defy orders and hurt your fellow recruits, you will never make a soldier."
"So, I should just shut up and let them mistreat me?" she asked testily, sitting down on the stone bench. "I mean, I'm used to being the Ugly Duckling but that doesn't mean I like it." She looked up again, her eyes sad. "You guys are better than the Facility, but well...I feel alone," she sighed, standing up and beginning to pace. "I shouldn't but I do. The only time I don't is..."
"Is what?"
Laura shook her head, waving the question away. "If you want respect, you will have from me, my Lord," she said, her voice cold and flat.
"Laura, look at me," he said.
The young woman finally met his blue gaze, in which she found understanding and kindness.
"Do not respect only me. Respect everyone and you will earn the respect of others. Show your qualities, not your flaws and you will earn their respect,"
Laura snorted.
"It does not matter if you do not believe me. You have good things to offer. Show them those things. You are more than an out-of-place Atani, but you are Laura Kinney, named after the plant of victory. I believe you will become a soldier, and a fine one too. And one day, if the King allows, I will be very proud to consider you part of the House of the Golden Flower."
Laura's eyes flew open like startled birds, and she almost cried out with joy. Instead of running to Glorfindel and throwing her arms around him, she stood still, saying quietly, "Thank you, my Lord."
Glorfindel smiled. "Take heart, soldier. And you should rest now. Tomorrow will not be a horseback ride in the fields."
Laura returned the smile. "Yes, my Lord," she said, offering him a salute. "It's how soldiers show respect to their officers in my homeland," she added in explanation.
The half-Vanya nodded. "I see. Have a blessed night, soldier."
"You as well, my Lord."
Years later…
It was the final day of training. The finest of the recruits, those who had passed all other tests, were gathered in the Training Square, where they would face each other in hand-to-hand combat as their final trial before becoming a soldier. Until then, Peleccion and his ax, which he wielded like an extension of his arm, had prevailed, and Lord Rog kept an approving eye on the cocky Noldo. Now, the contestants had been boiled down to him and Laura, both of whom had defeated all the other opponents.
What Glorfindel had said to her that long-ago night had become Laura's life motto: she had thrown away the remnants of the cold assassin and devoted herself to becoming the person that Glorfindel believed she was. It had been difficult, but by showing respect, she had become respected
Peleccion stepped over his last opponent, grinning broadly. The crowd around the ring exploded with applause, and his grin widened. He turned then, extending his hand to his fallen combatant. The elleth rolled to her feet, glaring at him and left the circle. It was a ring three meters in diameter, staked out with hazel staves. Once in, stepping out of borders meant forfeiture, running away meant cowardice.
"Is there anyone else who would like to take their chances?" he called. Glorfindel and Duilin, who were standing side by side, looked at each, silently hoping someone would challenge him. Peleccion was a good fighter, but too proud for his own good by far. If no one accepted his dare, one of them would have to.
"My turn," said a female voice. Laura came to the front of the crowd, her hair pulled back in a tight tail, her face was flushed with the previous fights.
Peleccion laughed in disbelief. "If you want to fail, fírima."
Laura shrugged. "Well you're the very flower of chivalry, aren't you? But it can't hurt to try. Unless you're afraid you'll lose to a fírima."
Peleccion grinned at her. "Come and fight."
Laura slipped in between the circle of hazel staves, her legs apart, balancing on her toes like a dancer. With a metallic grate, her claws emerged from her fists.
"Who will win?" Egalmoth asked. The crowd had fallen silent, and his voice was easily heard.
"Peleccion," chorused Duilin and Rog instantly.
Egalmoth nodded, "As do I. What of you, Glorfindel?"
"That is hardly a question," Duilin said. "He thinks his prodigy Laura Kinney will win."
Glorfindel sighed. "Thank you for your wit, Duilin. But for once you are right: I do think she will win."
Egalmoth's gaze turned curious. "And why is that my friend?"
Glorfindel shrugged. "Peleccion is too cocky by half. He will overstep his bounds soon. But Laura is careful. And I believe she is an innate warrior. It will not be an easy win, but I think it will be her win."
"That is a strange way of saying assassin," Duilin muttered. Egalmoth nudged him hard, but Glorfindel remained prudently silent. Instead, he focused his attention on his friend, certain that the victory would be hers.
Rámalë, Duilin's second in command, short in stature but commanding in appearance, sounded the gong.
The difference in height between the combatants was considerable. Laura was lean but short, while Peleccion stood nearly two heads taller than her, and was built like a smith.
And the combat was a long one. For some time, Laura contented himself with standing upon the defensive and guarding against the tremendous blows which Peleccion rained on her. Despite the Noldo's efforts, who could not beat down the woman's guard nor force her to fall back a single step.
Again, and again, the crowd cheered in approval to some show of athleticism or skill on either part. Peleccion grew furious; his temper gave way under the failure of his assaults. Laura, on the contrary, fought calmly and coolly; her eyes never left those of her adversary, her face neutral, although her forehead glistened with a sheen of sweat.
Suddenly Laura shifted to the offensive, raining a perfect hailstorm of blows on Peleccion. The Noldo leaped backward, and Duilin drew in his breath in a hiss.
"Fool! Move on him!"
"I think not, my friend," said a voice, its low, luxurious baritone Ecthelion's trademark. "She is not as fast on you and she knows it."
Duilin turned, "Ah, Ecthelion. Who do you think today's winner will be?"
Ecthelion shrugged, his voice neutral. "I am hardly a fortune teller. I would rather watch then be forced to assume."
Peleccion charged Laura like a bull. She wrapped her arms around his neck as if she were embracing him, and headbutted him. There was a crack as Peleccion's nose broke, and the two stumbled apart, blood on both their faces.
Stunned but still dangerous, Peleccion fainted to the left with his ax, forcing Laura to move. Then the ax was between her legs, forcing her to roll or get cut. She rolled, but before she could get to her feet, Peleccion's foot was on her chest, pressing down hard. Blood dripped down his handsome face.
"Do you have something to say, firíma?" he asked. Applause began at his words, then was devoured by silence. Laura brought her knee up between Peleccion's legs with a hard jerk and the Elf stumbled away, doubled over.
A loud shout of approval burst from the mass of Elves. Although the winner was not one of them, they appreciated so highly the virtues of coolness and courage that their applause was no less hearty than if the Peleccion had been a victor. Peleccion straightened slowly, his friends running to him. Putting two fingers on either side of his nose, he set it again with a bone-chilling snap. Laura had kicked the ax away from him and was glaring at him.
"Call me firíma again and you'll get more than your nose broken," she said. Glorfindel looked triumphantly to Duilin. "She won."
"She kicked him between the legs," Duilin countered crisply. "I would hardly call that a fair win."
"She still won," Glorfindel retorted, and headed towards the Circle.
"Impressive, soldier," he said, and Laura smiled gratefully at him, wiping trickles of Peleccion's blood off her face. The scratches she had sustained were already healed. "You defeated the best in your class. But let us see if you can defeat me."
"Fight you?" she repeated, her voice startled and defensive. "I mean, fight you, my Lord?"
"You seem a worthy opponent," Glorfindel answered. Laura was going to protest, but she deciphered two things from her friend's blue gaze: Glorfindel was trying to show the crowd that Atani was not synonymous with weakness and that he truly wanted a friendly duel: he had a showy streak.
"As you say, my lord," she replied, smiling thinly.
The two stood on opposite ends of the ring, the golden-haired warrior with his sword drawn, Laura with her claws out and crossed over her chest.
"She will lose now for certain," Egalmoth said, looking on with interest.
"Yes. But it will be entertaining," Ecthelion returned.
"Hardly," Duilin broke in. "Peleccion was a reckless, fame-seeking novice. Glorfindel is both skilled and clever."
Ecthelion smiled in a serene, fatherly way that made Duilin glare at him and returned his gaze to the ring.
Both combatants stood still, as tense as violin strings tuned to the ultimate octave. Glorfindel's face was alive with rushing adrenaline, but Laura's face had become dull and lifeless.
Rámalë sounded the gong once more, now looking interested instead of merely tolerant.
Glorfindel fought with furious speed, and although Laura had begun on the offensive, she was forced to skip backward to avoid being overwhelmed by the flurry of blows he dealt at her. It was instantly clear to her she would have to appeal to all she knew to avoid being defeated outright.
As Glorfindel raised his arm for another blow, she kicked out, aiming for his unprotected side. He turned with tight grace, like a dancer spinning, but was unprepared for the claws that pierced through her moccasins, forcing him to step backward. There was a low gasp from the crowd.
Glorfindel moved quickly, lunging for her head. She slid under his blade and into a crouch where she jabbed at his hard stomach with a quick, but heavy blow.
Ecthelion smiled to himself.
Glorfindel drew in breath fast but recovered at once. He was concerned by the flat, far-away look of her eyes; worried that she had forgotten who she was fighting.
Laura jumped to her feet as soon as the sword finished its arc, slashing at Glorfindel with her claws. In a quick movement, Glorfindel caught her claws in his sword, twisting her arm. She spun around to her face, wrapping her other arm around his neck, and head-butted him hard, smashing her skull against his forehead.
Glorfindel staggered backward, dazed for a minute.
The fight continued for two more hours, and Glorfindel took many hard blows, but mostly he held the upper hand. And although Laura was an excellent fighter, Glorfindel's experience prevailed and he finally managed to corner her, throw her to the ground, with a foot on her chest and his sword at her throat.
Glorfindel raised an eyebrow and smiled hopefully. "Soldier-"
"Do you really think you have won, my Lord?" Laura panted, her eyes hard and flat. Her tone was cold, mocking, and dead.
"Do not do it," He said sternly.
She brought her head up. "Do you really think so, my Lord?"
"You would not dare, soldier," he said in a low, urgent voice.
"What wouldn't I dare?" she asked, her eyes welded on his, and now Culumaica's blade was biting into her throat, staining its edge with blood.
"Laura!" Glorfindel exclaimed, his voice filled with sudden anguish. "Laura, enough!"
The woman's breath hitched as if on a thorn, and it seemed like a caul had been ripped from her face, for the flat-eyed look disappeared. She lay down quickly and shouted, "You win, my Lord!"
Against his will, Glorfindel pulled her to her feet. He did not want to touch her, but to refuse would be to discourteous. But this time was no different, and they stared at each other, immured in their separate world, aware that something greater than either of them was suddenly at work.
"Excellent fighting, Laura Kinney," said Ecthelion from behind them, and both turned sharply at his voice.
"Thank you, my Lord," Laura replied in a distracted voice, still looking at Glorfindel. "With your permission, I will retire."
She turned and walked quickly away, losing herself in the crowd. In a minute, Glorfindel had also disappeared, going in the opposite direction.
Waiting for your reviews, guys!
