Disclaimer: Everything Middle Earth belongs to Tolkien. No money is being made.

Author's Note:01/17/06 - I remember this being one of the chapters that I enjoyed writing even though I'd been dealing with something awful at the time. And after rereading it this time around, it's still a chapter that I really like.

The Imperfect One
By: JDArc

Chapter Seven: Lessons

Elenmírë waited impatiently in a clearing by the stables, polishing her beloved blade with loving care until her reflection gleamed back at her. She grimaced at her distorted image, her nose appearing far flatter, her face far wider than she thought possible, and immediately she turned away and returned the blade back to its sheath. She dreaded the inevitable training that was planned for the day, but there was a single thread of excitement that teased her. There existed a part of her that wanted nothing more than to show Mary Sue what exactly Elenmírë was capable of with the blade in her hand. 'Of course, giving Mary Sue a tiny cut here and there is a bit of a bonus,' she thought wickedly, smirking slightly. But the girl's tardiness was wearing on her nerves.

"Where is that cursed girl?" she muttered to herself, roaming her keen eyes over the structures of Rivendell, which blazed in their magnificence in the early rays of dawn's first light. She allowed herself a quiet moment to admire the beauty of the city, knowing that she would soon be leaving her protected walls for the harsh realities of a world that had claimed the lives of both of her parents. She was frightened of the prospect of meeting the same fate as theirs, and one particular part of the forgotten prophecy had unnerved her to no end. One life saved, One doomed to end and Two lives made into one. A broken heart shall slowly mend. Then the deeds of the Ten will be done. She shivered slightly and hoped beyond hope that her life was not the one doomed to end, but she could not help but suspect hers would be the foretold broken heart. There was no doubt in her mind whose lives would be joined as one, and she crossed her arms, pacing back and forth angrily across the grass. "Stupid Mary Sue," she spat quietly, her eyes shooting livid glances to the only path that led to the clearing which still lay untouched of the pound of heavy human feet.

Elenmírë, however, was unaware of another pair of bluish grey eyes studying her from a terrace high above. Legolas had awoken before the break of day and was up and about, not knowing exactly what to do. Yesterday's revelation of the prophecy had shaken him, and he did not know precisely how to interpret the massive riddles that plagued the ancient scriptures. It was obvious, of course, that Mary Sue was indeed the One, but there was still doubt overshadowing his heart, and it grew ever stronger as he observed Elenmírë's irritated pacing across a clearing that was encircled by a mixture of birch and elm, both of whose golden leaves had cast a fair glow about her, adding to her own feeble light. He had been watching her since sunrise, and it was now almost an hour past. But still she waited for Mary Sue, who had yet to make an appearance, and he idly wondered himself where the girl was. He turned his attention back to Elenmírë and smiled, noting that as of late, Elenmírë had discarded the tight braid that she had confined her hair to the first time that they had met. Her dark hair was similar to that of the style that she had worn the night of their first and only dance together, but now it was much more practical, aiming to only keep her hair out of her face yet allowing it to flow freely down her back in its elegance.

He sighed quietly, frowning now, as he remembered her clear dismissal of him at the Council, trying to deduce reasons as to why she was avoiding him, but suddenly the answer to his ponderings wrapped her slender arms around his waist, pressing her body against his back. He had been so lost with his thoughts of Elenmírë that he had not noticed Mary Sue carefully creeping into his chambers, assuming her footsteps were those of a hurried servant, and he severely scolded himself quietly for not being attentive for now he was in the most uncomfortable position.

"Good morning, Mary Sue," he greeted, forcing his voice to sound cheerful as he turned around swiftly, and her arms undid themselves at his unexpected movement, much to his relief. But as quick as she had been before, they were coiled once again around him, and he found himself stuck in her embrace as she tightened her hold, pressing her cheek to his upper chest.

"Morning, Legolas," she answered in return, looking up at him imploringly with her violet eyes. "What were you thinking about? Me, perhaps?" She giggled and batted her eyelashes seductively at him, an arm now reaching around his neck as her other hand stroked his cheek. He gulped, trying to tear his gaze away from her beautiful face, but she looked so inviting to him at the moment, especially as she pressed her lips to a pucker, her hand gently pulling his face down to hers. He was losing himself as their faces neared each others, and she smiled eagerly, closing her eyes as he did, their lips only centimeters apart-

"No!" he exclaimed swiftly, pulling away from her and gripping onto the railing of the balcony, and his voice echoed throughout the valley. His gaze caught Elenmírë's as she stared up at them, her eyes wide with shock, and he was sure she had seen the entire incident. It took her another second or two to regain her composure, and she abruptly broke their eye contact when she did.

"Legolas?" Mary Sue reached over hesitantly to cover his hand with hers, but he snatched his away. "What's wrong?" she asked, her voice shaking with hurt. "Don't you want to kiss me?" He twisted his head and glared at her.

"You know you and I cannot be together," he stated evenly, turning to look forlornly at Elenmírë, who now sat at the base of a tree, her arms hugging her knees to her chest, her long hair draped across the side of her face, concealing her from his view. "I explained this to you many times before. I am immortal, Mary Sue. I cannot die, but your fate is bound to death. To forge a relationship between the two of us would only cause grief."

"Didn't you read the prophecy?" she questioned, raising an eyebrow. "Don't you remember? Two souls will unite, Legolas." She drew closer, linking her arm through his in one smooth motion while leaning her head against his shoulder. "Isn't it only obvious who those two are?"

It was obvious enough to Elenmírë who sat watching them from her humble seat below in the clearing, and the crack in her heart deepened from what she had witnessed. She had spotted Legolas in time to see Mary Sue greet him, and although Legolas' back was turned to Elenmírë at the time, it seemed as if he had bent down to kiss her. His cry of protest did not reach her ears for she was too consumed by her misery and had felt the beginnings of a sob rise within her throat but had tried desperately to stop it. Their eyes had locked for a moment, and Elenmírë knew her pain was evident in her expression and she had turned away, ducking under the protectiveness of an elm's tall branches. The painful pounding of her heart tortured her ears, and she turned her eyes to the heavens above, pleading for an answer.

"O why, merciful Elbereth, must this be my destiny?" she cried softly, tears falling down her cheeks. Her fingers futilely attempted to wipe them away, but she finally yielded to her sorrow, and permitted her tears to trek downward along the curves of her face.

"Lady Elenmírë?" a voice called out from the path, but she refused to look up. Boromir tread heavily through the clearing to her side and bent down next to her, placing a comforting hand on her shoulder. "What is it that ails you, my Lady?" he inquired, lifting her chin with his other free hand so that they faced each other. He gently brushed her hair away from her face, his eyes studying her for an answer.

"What are you doing here?" she asked instead, digressing from the subject. "How did you know where I was?" She sniffed and pulled out of his grasp, wiping the remaining tears away as she disguised her pain with indifference. Boromir sat in bewilderment at the swift change in her countenance, never before deeming it possible to be sobbing one moment and to be utterly uncaring the next, but it seemed as though the Lady Elenmírë had accomplished this feat quite easily.

"I was wandering around the stables, admiring the mares," he answered truthfully, "when I heard someone crying and followed the sound here." She shifted uncomfortably before standing up and stretching, and he watched in amazement as she started to pace as if nothing at all had been bothering her enough to cause her tears.

"I was merely frustrated," she replied flatly, and he knew that was as much as he was going to get out of her, at least for the moment. She wouldn't meet his eyes, and he knew to not question any further. However, she continued speaking. "I am to train Mary Sue for she is to come with us on our journey, but that girl has no shame in leaving me waiting for nearly an hour."

"I know about the training," Boromir commented, and she stopped from her pacing to shoot him a questioning glance. "Lord Elrond and Gandalf informed the rest of the Fellowship of the prophecy after their private meeting with you," he explained quickly. "They warned us, however, not to tell those who are not of the Fellowship, for we cannot put them into any danger with the knowledge, or rather, have them put the Fellowship in danger by leaking the information to our enemies if ever they were captured." His voice dropped to a lower tone as if speaking to himself. "I honestly cannot be sure what the prophecy means or why Mary Sue was chosen for such a quest. I have never heard of such a thing in all my life. Females are not allowed to fight in Gondor, and I have yet to see such that could change my mind." Elenmírë glanced sharply to him, crossing her arms in defiance.

"Is that a challenge, Man of Gondor?" she asked, narrowing her eyes, a glint of mischief sparkling amid the grey. Boromir caught the subtle mirth in her tone and smirked up at her, nodding his head.

"Yes it is," he answered, getting up from his sitting position on the clearing floor. "What, do you think you could prove me wrong?" She wore a mock expression of shock on her face at his insult.

"How dare you, to have the audacity to speak in such a manner to the second in command of the Guard of Rivendell!" she gasped dramatically, grinning widely as she unsheathed her blade. "You will pay for your words, sir." He laughed as he did the same, taking his stance in front of her.

"Is that so?" he mused before charging at her with a series of blows which she easily deflected, and she rolled her eyes at him. She knew he was holding back, and she was not going to let him slide away that easily from her taunts because of it. Elladan and Elrohir had done the same thing when training with her at first, and it offended her to no end that they had held back their most fierce attacks from her merely because she was female. She had struggled even harder to prove that she was indeed worthy of fighting a battle as well as they, and while she had progressed in skill, they quickly learned they had to entail their most advanced defenses to defeat her, but soon even that quickly failed to her ever-growing mastery of the sword. Boromir would now discover the same thing if he did not use the best of his ability to try to overpower her.

"Is that all you've got?" she yawned sarcastically, but he was rushing at her once more, this time with difficult swings that forced her to use counterattacks to end the onslaught of assaults. She giggled as his face grew red with determination. "Ah, that is more like it, Boromir!" She tightly gripped the hilt of her blade as she blocked his sword from slashing across her neck, and they stood face to face, surprising each other with their strength.

"You are strong," he admitted, grinning as he struggled to push her away, but her force against him was just as fierce.

"So you admit defeat?" she teased, keeping her Elven cool, showing no sign of restrain as he did.

"Never!" he cried, shoving her away with all the energy he could muster before he leaped to another position, readying himself for the steady slicing of her sword which she eagerly brought. They dueled aggressively, and the clashing of swords brought many to their terraces to watch the spar, including Lord Elrond, whose face was set with uneasiness at the growing friendship between Elenmírë and Boromir.

Boromir had concerned him especially during the Council when he had argued for the use of the Ring against the Dark Lord, but Boromir's strong, wise demeanor returned soon after they had been dismissed. A shadow was growing in his mind as he stared at the couple down below, hoping that his intuition was wrong. Boromir perfectly matched Elenmírë's fiery spirit, and he wanted nothing more than for his foster daughter to finally find the sort of affection that he could not provide, but he knew her heart was no longer hers to give for it was now in Legolas's possession. Boromir's obvious fondness of the Lady Elenmírë would no doubt cause some trouble; there lingered the feeling of doom as he watched their playful combat come to a close.

Their brawl had now fallen into an uncontrollable fit of laughter as Elenmírë slipped on a spot in the grass where the dew was heavy, blaming her clumsiness on her human half, and Boromir dropped down next to her, clutching his stomach from too much laughter as they both agreed on a draw.

"You could have claimed the victory, you know?" she informed him, not making the effort to lift herself from the spot where she had fallen. Instead, she comfortably sat with her legs crossed while she began polishing her blade once again. Boromir also took no heed of the wetness of the grass and copied her position, sheathing his sword.

"I would not dare," he replied, studying her meticulous, attentive ministrations. "You have risen to the challenge I set up and have proven me wrong, but I still cannot say that you represent all of female kind in the world. I still would not dare trust a woman with a sword." She sighed heavily at his response and shook her head, rolling her eyes.

"You males are all the same, no matter what race," she muttered, ceasing her vigorous cleaning, satisfied with her weapon's gleam. "You are all stubborn and determined, even when you're wrong." He laughed easily, enjoying her bluntness, but Elenmírë was up almost immediately at the sound of two pairs of feet walking into the clearing, one belonging to that of an Elf and the other belonging to a teenage girl. All the delight that had occupied Elenmírë's countenance was instantly gone at the sight of Mary Sue and Legolas, and she folded her arms in displeasure.

"Now you decide to grace us with your presence, an hour late," she growled at Mary Sue, barely giving acknowledgement to Legolas's company. "The first thing a warrior must learn is discipline, but it seems your absence of it will only make this harder for the both of us if you do not change your ways." Mary Sue glared back, picking uncomfortably at her tunic, which accented her perfect figure, much to Elenmírë's chagrin. She resisted the urge to straightened her own tunic, feeling even more self-conscious of her almost unnoticeable bulge and her wide hips and bottom.

"Why do you have to make me get up this early anyway?" Mary Sue snapped. "What's the use in trying to train me this early if I can barely function in the morning?" She held up her head defensively, her lips curved into a smirk. Elenmírë strode purposefully until she was barely inches away from Mary Sue, and the girl coward under Elenmírë's tall stature. She turned to Legolas for help, but he merely shrugged, amused at the lack of conviction in the girl's sharp words once Elenmírë was in her face.

"You must learn to be ready at all times," Elenmírë snarled icily. "You never know when you will be attacked. Of course, if you do not wish to learn how to defend yourself in the middle of the night when orcs assail our company, I do not wish to waste any more time with you. Do not blame me if you find yourself in a life-threatening position in the early hours and have not the slightest idea how to get yourself out of it." With that, the smirk left Mary Sue's face, and Elenmírë turned and walked briskly toward the path, before she heard a faint whisper of protest.

"Wait, please." Mary Sue shifted uncomfortably on her feet under Elenmírë's scrutinizing gaze as she turned around. "Look, I'm sorry," she continued, not meeting Elenmírë's eyes. "With Aragorn and your brothers gone, Lord Elrond said that you were the only worthy teacher of sword fighting, and with the prophecy and all, it seems I have no other choice than to learn how to handle a blade from the best person available." She finally looked up fearfully, uncertainty written plain across her face. "Really, I'm sorry, Elenmírë." Her genuine apology caught Elenmírë off guard, and she stared at the girl for several moments, debating whether to laugh and walk away or to relent and continue with the training. The latter finally overruled, and Elenmírë slowly marched to her forgotten pack by the foliage and she drew out an extra sheathed sword. Approaching the girl, she tossed it to her, and Mary Sue nearly dropped it but caught it in time before it hit the grass. 'I must do this only for the freedom of the peoples of Middle Earth,' Elenmírë reminded herself silently, hating the situation all the same. It was her duty to make sure Mary Sue succeeded, even if it meant losing her title as the best female warrior Rivendell had ever seen, and that did not make the pain in her heart lessen any. Despite her pointed ears, her human half became even more evident as her Elven light dimmed ever fainter.

"We must make one thing clear," Elenmírë said coolly, refusing to let her guard down. Everyone else seemed so charmed by the girl, but Elenmírë was determined not to soften her ways for her sake. "I am the teacher, and you are the student. If I hear or observe another sign of insubordination from you, these lessons will be over, and you will be on your own to find someone else who can teach you the way of the sword better than I." Mary Sue's eyes widened, and she snapped her mouth shut to keep from protesting as she nodded in agreement. Satisfied, Elenmírë looked over to Boromir and finally to Legolas, hating her heart at the moment for defying her wishes and leaping beyond her control at the sight of him despite the pain of the rejection she still felt from witnessing his kiss with Mary Sue, but she gave no external sign of the conflict within her. "Boromir, Legolas, if I may ask, will the two of you help with these lessons? In order for her to see examples of the techniques I wish to teach her, I would need one or both of you to help me, that is, if you want to do so." Boromir nodded immediately, but Legolas studied her eyes for a moment before giving any indication of his answer.

He remembered the way those same fiery eyes had once been an open window to her heart the night of the banquet, and he recalled the bursting affection that had sparkled in those misty pools of grey when she stared up at him. And the hurt that had been there merely minutes before when she had witnessed his almost kiss with Mary Sue was now gone, as if he had imagined it all in his head. Her eyes were cold and gave no sign whatsoever of the tender, gentle, loving soul he had beheld in his arms two nights ago, and his heart collapsed with disappointment. 'Fine,' he thought resolutely, hardening his heart. 'If she wishes not to be with me, then I was obviously mistaken.' His eyes traveled to Mary Sue, who shone with vivacious energy as opposed to the half she-elf, who stood in quiet discomfort for Legolas had yet to give his answer.

"Yes," he responded quite suddenly, desiring to say absolutely anything to pluck out a sign or any reaction at all from Elenmírë as evidence that she did care for him, that this coldness that she displayed was merely a mask of her feelings. If that meant saying something to hurt her, then so be it. "I will do all that I can to help Mary Sue, for she is important to me in more ways than one." Mary Sue's face lit up with hope as she snapped her head to stare at him, his negative response of the morning's interlude instantly erased and forgotten from her memory, but he looked not at her, focusing his eyes on Elenmírë alone. At first she did nothing and stood immobile on the spot, but then a quick flash of pain flared in her eyes and her lip trembled slightly; in the blink of an eye it was all gone. However, that was all he needed to calm the insecurity in his heart.

Elenmírë, on the other hand, was in utter turmoil at his statement, meeting his gaze only to nod at his answer, forcing herself not to turn away from him even as Mary Sue approached him and took a hold of his hand in happiness. Elenmírë tightly gripped the hilt of her sword as she unsheathed it once more, anger, resentment, jealousy, hurt and the like ringing in her ears, although none of it showed on her face, save only the one fleeting millisecond she allowed his words to affect her. Her voice remained calm and neutral when she commanded all their attention as she began to explain the dynamics of sword fighting to Mary Sue, and soon enough, she gratefully lost herself in the world of combat, trying to ignore her protesting heart.

While she concentrated her words on the details of handling and fighting with a sword, her audience stood in awe at the raw passion evident on her face of her love of the art of war. Her enthusiasm was addicting, and it was obvious to all why she was a leader among the Guard of Rivendell; her words incited a zeal for destroying all that was evil, and Boromir found himself itching to swing his sword, which he did soon enough when he and Elenmírë demonstrated a few attacks and counterattacks. Legolas and Mary Sue began to imitate their fray, and Elenmírë stopped to observe Mary Sue's formation, frowning at her perfect agility and instant adaptation to handling the sword, and Gandalf's earlier words worried her even more. 'To be the best, one must learn from the best, I always say, and for Mary Sue to be her best, she must learn how to wield the sword just as well as you do, maybe even better.' Elenmírë's anxiety increased as Mary Sue ducked away from Legolas, tripped him with her leg, and aimed the point of her blade right next to his neck as he fell flat on his back. 'Is there something this bloody annoyance cannot do?' her mind growled in bitterness as Mary Sue helped Legolas up, grinning haughtily in Elenmírë's direction.

"How's that for a first lesson, El?" she shot out, grinning with superiority. "All this sword stuff isn't as hard as everyone makes it out to be." She started swinging her blade, keeping her grip tight, her wrists lose, as if she had been handling the blade since the day she was born.

"My name is Elenmírë, not 'El' as you so causally put it," she responded flatly. "No offense to Legolas, but with the way he was hesitating, it seems his swordsmanship cannot compare to his archery." His cheeks colored slightly at her snub, but then again, he knew he deserved it. He had withheld when fighting Mary Sue, not knowing exactly how capable she was in defending herself, nor did he expect to be defeated so easily. "You will not learn how to fully defend yourself if your skills are not challenged." With that said, she gestured for Legolas to clear away and she drew out her blade smoothly as she faced Mary Sue. Elenmírë's eyes were filled with disgust as she studied Mary Sue's arrogant posture, and she wished for nothing more than to show her what exactly sword fighting entailed. Her adrenaline pumped through her muscles, knowing that the moment that she had been waiting for had finally come.

"What are you doing?" Mary Sue asked, the confidence leaking from her face as she looked at Elenmírë's ready stance and drawn sword.

"It seems you have surpassed most of our expectations, Mary Sue," she answered lightly, inspecting her blade for a moment. "Defeating Legolas is no light feat, so I suspect you must be ready for anything, yes?" Mary Sue said nothing but fear was written plain across her face, and Elenmírë smiled inwardly, her arm burning to slice her just once. "So, please. Attack me."

"Y-you can't be serious!" Mary Sue cried out, her eyes widening as she looked desperately to Legolas to step in and stop it. "I th-think I'm done for the day."

Elenmírë raised an eyebrow. "You have been here for only half an hour," she said coolly, "and you have only been fighting for half of that. There is no way you could be tired now." She smirked. "Besides, I am the instructor here, and I can tell that you are ready, and even your cowardice cannot hide that. Now, attack me, and that is an order." Mary Sue shut her mouth, not knowing how Elenmírë would act if she refused, and after a moment of silence, she raised her sword and charged, swinging her blade at Elenmírë's head. She blocked the blow easily, but she was surprised at the power behind the stroke, though she did not show her emotions on her face or in her movements, thanking her Elven blood for giving her the ability to do so. But Mary Sue's strokes were becoming tougher and tougher as she swung this way and that, and sweat poured down both their faces as they dueled to defeat each other. Elenmírë improvised with each of Mary Sue's swings, hating herself for being impressed with Mary Sue's sudden skill.

However, Mary Sue's egotistical side once again took over, and she called out, "If I'd known it woulda been this easy, I would have taken up sword fighting a long time ago!" There was no jest in it, unlike the conversation between Boromir and Elenmírë during their duel. Mary Sue commented with only crude egotism, intending to offend, and Elenmírë cursed loudly, and her eyes stormed from a mild grey to an almost midnight blue with wrath. The walls holding Elenmírë's pent up aggression finally broke, and her rage flowed freely, feeding the fire that had been burning since the day the two had met. The morning's episode also flashed through her mind, and her hate boiled even hotter for the girl whom she thought had possession of the Legolas's heart. A surge of energy she had never felt before rushed through her veins, and she quickly increased her swings so swiftly that it was nearly impossible to differentiate one from the other. A terrifyingly beautiful white light was once again illuminated from her powerful form, and fear crept into Mary Sue's bones at the realization that she had said too much. She started to swing wildly to escape the assault of blows, but she was far too slow, and Elenmírë used this to her advantage. With a quick snap of her wrist, her blade cut cleanly into Mary Sue's right arm, causing her to drop her sword at the contact. Elenmírë's left arm lifted up, and she knocked Mary Sue to the ground, punching her face with her clenched fist as she swirled in half a circle, calmly facing the two males as Mary Sue dropped to the ground behind her.

Shocked, Mary Sue slowly looked down at her slashed sleeve and saw that the cut was not deep, but it was cut so smoothly that it took several seconds for blood to finally flow out, and when it did, tears ran down her cheeks at the pain. Her face was throbbing with excruciating soreness, not only from the punch to her right eye, but also from a small nick on her high left cheekbone, placed there with such precision and quickness that she had not felt it before, but now that her salty tears washed upon it, it stung severely.

"You bitch!" she cried out pathetically from her place on the grass. "You fucking bitch!" Elenmírë turned around, cocking her head to one side with her eyes narrowed, noting the negative connotation of the statement, though she had never heard such words before.

"Are you insulting me, child?" she snapped, the fire in here eyes still burning. "The lesson you keep failing to learn is to never, under any circumstances, underestimate the abilities of your opponents. With that attitude of yours, you would not last a minute in battle." She stared keenly at the hurts she inflicted on the girl, and she smirked with fulfillment. "Be grateful that I have enough skill to not have chopped off your entire arm, even though I did have the opportunity to do so. You will receive far worse injuries out there in battle, and I suggest you grow accustomed to the pain."

"I hate you!" Mary Sue cried out, futilely trying to hurt Elenmírë with her shallow words. "I hate you! You're just a bitter, jealous person, and I hate you!" Instead of yelling the way Mary Sue hoped, Elenmírë just laughed, polishing her blade before placing it back in its sheath.

"I could care less if you hate me or not," she replied, crossing her arms, "for you are of no importance to me. I merely do what I must to ensure the safety of Middle Earth, and the aid that I provide in teaching you how to defend yourself, to toughen yourself as warrior is only part of my duty." She started to walk away, and Boromir followed suit, knowing that deep down, she was still hurt at Mary Sue's advancement in her craft, and he wanted to be there to comfort her in any way he could, his feelings turning sour at Mary Sue for using her snobbery to further damage Elenmírë's self-esteem.

"Fine!" Mary Sue sobbed, clutching her arm. Legolas had ripped a part of her tunic and wrapped it tightly around her wound, but it did not stop the pain. "I don't care about you either! I'll just refuse this mission, how about that!" Elenmírë stopped dead in her tracks and swerved around, shooting her an even angrier glare than she thought she was capable of.

"Do as you wish," she snarled, "but throwing away the warnings of the ancient prophecy will not only lose my home, but the home of your lover's. Let us see how much he will enjoy that." Legolas started at the term lover and also the slight pain he heard in her voice but knew that with the limits of human hearing, Mary Sue did not distinguish it. However, she was struck silent at the reality of Elenmírë's words. "I suggest you find yourself a healer and a new teacher, for I will no longer bother with someone who insults me when I am trying to help her."

"What, cutting me up is part of the lesson?" Mary Sue snapped.

"You have already been told, child!" Elenmírë finally yelled, her face flushing red. "If you do not learn how to deal with the pain from the beginning, how will you learn how to fight through much worse injuries on the battlefield? The cut on your arm is merely a scratch compared to what most go through out in the real world, Mary Sue. And if you go into a battle thinking that you are a far better fighter than your opponent, you will surely fall faster than you know! Learning to be a warrior depends not only on physical skills but in your mentality as well!" She was breathing heavily, and when she turned to leave, Boromir placed a comforting arm around her, his hand protectively on the small of her back, as they walked away, surprising them all.

Legolas had no time to react for Mary Sue was in his arms the moment they were gone, and she was sobbing, babbling words of nonstop complaint, much of which made no sense for her face was buried against his chest. He supported her as she weakly walked with him out of the clearing and to the buildings, but he was also consumed with anger, not with Elenmírë (because he did agree with her reasoning), but with the Man of Gondor. He kept his face impassive as they walked through the terraces, but inside, he was seething with an emotion he could only discern as jealousy, now knowing what it was and how it felt, and he finally understood why it was an emotion no one liked. 'Boromir has no right!' he wanted to scream, but instead he tightened an arm around Mary Sue in anger, and she cried out.

"Ow!" She pulled away from him, and he looked and was suddenly startled at her injuries, really noticing them for the first time. Her right eye was red and swollen, and it was growing puffy, causing her face to match her currently unpleasant personality. "You squeezed my injured arm, Legolas!" She held her head high and walked ahead of him to leave him behind, but he made no effort to catch up with her. Instead, he surrendered to his commanding heart and fled down the corridor on his right, in search of Elenmírë's room, knowing that if he did not speak with her now, he may never have another chance to with Boromir's growing affection for her. He only hoped he had not waited too long…

TBC..