Dawn's pink glowing fingers stretched through the open windows to warm
Kathryn's cheek. She woke quickly, wanting to get her body fit once again
for battle.
"I can protect myself." She growled as she slipped out of bed. Her dreams had been full of eyes, many different pairs of eyes. All questioning her; doubting her; criticising her. Pulling her leather corset around her, she laced it up with angry jerks on the strings. Each yank steeling herself for the training she was preparing for.
Dressed, she fastened her belt around her waist, checking it. Her whetstone, oil cloth and skinning dagger lay by the table and she slid each into their places, carefully folding the cloth. Coils of bowstring were still in her pouch, and dry. Her simple short bow leant against the wall, and her sword on the table. Sheathing her sword, and fitting the bow over her back she followed the paths down to the training yards.
The yards were deserted, and a feeling of solitude lingered in the green grass of the clearings. Drawing her sword, Kathryn began a series of routines, adapting to the weakness in her side. Quicker and quicker she delivered them, flurries of steel sweeping through the air as she darted back and forth around the glade. The ideas became more intricate, stylised, until she seemed to dance as part of the sword through the movements. Not wanting to overdo herself, she slowed her pace until she was doing the simplest of parries against a foe's imaginary sword.
A clash of steel whipped her mind out of the single-minded concentration on the sword. Looking along her sword, she saw another. Her eyes tracked along the foreign blade until she met the newcomer.
"Back to the sword then already?" Aragorn asked.
"Yes. If we are to leave Rivendell soon, then I must be in the best of conditions in order to protect Frodo." She tapped his sword away nonchalantly, and he yielded. He followed her to the clear lines prepared for archery.
"So we are cousins." Aragorn finally got round to saying.
Kathryn bent her bow and hooked the bowstring onto the end. She tested it by pulling the string back to the furthest it could stretch. Nodding, she relaxed it again, this time notching an arrow to it, and drawing it back to her ear.
"So we are." She replied, closing her left eye and concentrating. She released the arrow and it sped fast and true. With a thunk it embedded itself deep into a knot of an old oak tree. Satisfied, she lowered the bow and turned to face Aragorn. "Does it now make sense to you that you should have let me travel?"
"It has made sense far before I discovered our kinship. Kathryn you know I am sorry for opposing your decision. Please put it behind us, forgive me." His grey eyes pleaded for peace.
Kathryn was silent for a while, staring with her elven eyes at the arrow. Resolved she faced him again and smiled lovingly. "Ú-moe edaved, Aragorn (There is nothing to forgive Aragorn)." Aragorn smiled, relieved. Then his eyes saw someone approaching.
"Hail Turion!" He greeted the other Ranger. Kathryn turned, smiling also. But the smile quickly matched the frown Turion already held.
"What.?" She began. His hand cut sharply across the air.
"So this is where the evil festers: in places of goodness and green. How long before the goodness is tainted, and the leaves turn black?" He spat. Kathryn lowered her head and huddled against Aragorn's side.
"Now listen here." Aragorn stepped forward, frowning also. He rubbed her back reassuringly. "Long have we fought against the Shadow, risking our lives for innocents. How can you denounce us in such a way?"
Turion's face darkened more. "You are descendants of Isildur, you have evil in your veins as he did!"
"No!" Kathryn whispered, shaking her head in denial, hugging closer to Aragorn. "Aragorn - it isn't true is it?"
"No, Kathryn, it is not true. I will not see you upset my cousin so!" He stepped forward again, hand on hilt.
Turion strode forward, ignoring Aragorn's warnings. He cupped Kathryn's chin in his hand looking into her eyes. "I see the shadows behind her deceptive grey veils. And beyond that.flame." Tears splashing down her cheeks, Kathryn tried to turn away. But Turion's fingers dug into her cheeks forcing her to look at him. "You are nothing more than a servant of the Enemy. All you wait for is his call." He snarled.
No more tears left Kathryn's eyes. They were frozen with despair. Finally Turion let go of his hold and she fled.
Aragorn grabbed hold of Turion's shoulder. "Why did you do that?" He asked. "I thought you were her friend!"
Turion shook Aragorn's hand off. "Let go of me fiend!" He cried and whirled out of the glade.
Clenching his fist, Aragorn fought the temptation to go after Turion. But now was not the time. His cousin was in need of his comfort. A sigh escaped him as he watched the place where Turion had left, then he ran off following the Kathryn's footsteps.
"I can protect myself." She growled as she slipped out of bed. Her dreams had been full of eyes, many different pairs of eyes. All questioning her; doubting her; criticising her. Pulling her leather corset around her, she laced it up with angry jerks on the strings. Each yank steeling herself for the training she was preparing for.
Dressed, she fastened her belt around her waist, checking it. Her whetstone, oil cloth and skinning dagger lay by the table and she slid each into their places, carefully folding the cloth. Coils of bowstring were still in her pouch, and dry. Her simple short bow leant against the wall, and her sword on the table. Sheathing her sword, and fitting the bow over her back she followed the paths down to the training yards.
The yards were deserted, and a feeling of solitude lingered in the green grass of the clearings. Drawing her sword, Kathryn began a series of routines, adapting to the weakness in her side. Quicker and quicker she delivered them, flurries of steel sweeping through the air as she darted back and forth around the glade. The ideas became more intricate, stylised, until she seemed to dance as part of the sword through the movements. Not wanting to overdo herself, she slowed her pace until she was doing the simplest of parries against a foe's imaginary sword.
A clash of steel whipped her mind out of the single-minded concentration on the sword. Looking along her sword, she saw another. Her eyes tracked along the foreign blade until she met the newcomer.
"Back to the sword then already?" Aragorn asked.
"Yes. If we are to leave Rivendell soon, then I must be in the best of conditions in order to protect Frodo." She tapped his sword away nonchalantly, and he yielded. He followed her to the clear lines prepared for archery.
"So we are cousins." Aragorn finally got round to saying.
Kathryn bent her bow and hooked the bowstring onto the end. She tested it by pulling the string back to the furthest it could stretch. Nodding, she relaxed it again, this time notching an arrow to it, and drawing it back to her ear.
"So we are." She replied, closing her left eye and concentrating. She released the arrow and it sped fast and true. With a thunk it embedded itself deep into a knot of an old oak tree. Satisfied, she lowered the bow and turned to face Aragorn. "Does it now make sense to you that you should have let me travel?"
"It has made sense far before I discovered our kinship. Kathryn you know I am sorry for opposing your decision. Please put it behind us, forgive me." His grey eyes pleaded for peace.
Kathryn was silent for a while, staring with her elven eyes at the arrow. Resolved she faced him again and smiled lovingly. "Ú-moe edaved, Aragorn (There is nothing to forgive Aragorn)." Aragorn smiled, relieved. Then his eyes saw someone approaching.
"Hail Turion!" He greeted the other Ranger. Kathryn turned, smiling also. But the smile quickly matched the frown Turion already held.
"What.?" She began. His hand cut sharply across the air.
"So this is where the evil festers: in places of goodness and green. How long before the goodness is tainted, and the leaves turn black?" He spat. Kathryn lowered her head and huddled against Aragorn's side.
"Now listen here." Aragorn stepped forward, frowning also. He rubbed her back reassuringly. "Long have we fought against the Shadow, risking our lives for innocents. How can you denounce us in such a way?"
Turion's face darkened more. "You are descendants of Isildur, you have evil in your veins as he did!"
"No!" Kathryn whispered, shaking her head in denial, hugging closer to Aragorn. "Aragorn - it isn't true is it?"
"No, Kathryn, it is not true. I will not see you upset my cousin so!" He stepped forward again, hand on hilt.
Turion strode forward, ignoring Aragorn's warnings. He cupped Kathryn's chin in his hand looking into her eyes. "I see the shadows behind her deceptive grey veils. And beyond that.flame." Tears splashing down her cheeks, Kathryn tried to turn away. But Turion's fingers dug into her cheeks forcing her to look at him. "You are nothing more than a servant of the Enemy. All you wait for is his call." He snarled.
No more tears left Kathryn's eyes. They were frozen with despair. Finally Turion let go of his hold and she fled.
Aragorn grabbed hold of Turion's shoulder. "Why did you do that?" He asked. "I thought you were her friend!"
Turion shook Aragorn's hand off. "Let go of me fiend!" He cried and whirled out of the glade.
Clenching his fist, Aragorn fought the temptation to go after Turion. But now was not the time. His cousin was in need of his comfort. A sigh escaped him as he watched the place where Turion had left, then he ran off following the Kathryn's footsteps.