My door opened with a click.
"You are awake, good," said Legolas. He took my hand in his and took of the bandage. The cut that had been a great wound the night prior, seemed to be nothing more than a scratch in the morning light.
"You healed it this much overnight?" I asked. Legolas nodded.
"If you are a warrior, you must also be a healer," he answered. "You can thank Aragorn for that certain technique." I laughed. Aragorn, ya right. Wow, being an elf from Middle-Earth put a whole new perspective on things. "Does it feel any better than last night?"
"Ya, it feels better, not perfect though," I said. "But I can't believe that it's this much better..."
"Believe it," replied Legolas. He smiled. "Ms. Silmarána." I laughed.
"Do you think it is better enough that you could come down to the park with me to sword practice?" he asked shyly. "I have never had the chance to train with such a legend. I practiced last night a bit in the case that you might say yes."
"Of course," I said. "Even before breakfast. Just let me get dressed." Before I could say another word, Legolas had dashed out into the hallway. I got up and changed as quickly as possible. Legolas was waiting at the door, two swords in his hands. When he saw me coming, he dashed out the door and down the hallway. I had never seen him move that quickly, even on the football field. He was so excited, how cute. I ran after him. When I got to the park, I couldn't see anyone, so I just took the path. When I was about fifty feet in, I felt something behind me, not directly, but close.
Was it possible that even knowing that I was indeed an elf, no matter how long ago, had elevated my senses? I spun around and caught the sword that Legolas threw with one fluid movement, landing crouching on the ground. I stood up slowly. What had I just done? I didn't know how to do any of that. I had never moved like that in my life.
"Beautiful!" said Legolas. "And that is your sword."
"My sword?" I asked confused.
"The one I found with your body," answered Legolas. I looked down at it, running my hand over the hilt. The sapphire, set in the hilt to balance it, glinted in the morning sun dappling through the leaves. Celtic knots, or elfin knots I suppose, were carved into blade, the minutia of their tiny patterns almost blinding to make out. There were also characters, some sort or runes, written across the blade.
"What do they say?" I asked, finally looking up.
"Tula i'lírë ho i'narmo undu i'tië na llie qualin," Legolas answered. "Follow the cry of the wolf down the path to your death."
"How cheerful..." Legolas laughed.
"You are brutal to you enemies," he replied. "It was said in many tales and ballads that you let battle take control over you, that none were left standing, unless you, yourself, fell."
"And I did..." I said.
"Aye, you did," answered Legolas, and a sorrow came over his voice. "When the news of your death reached to entire Isle...such a mourning has never been seen before, nor I doubt, will it ever be witnessed again. The people, they said they would never forget you or what you had done for them. They love you. They always will. They said that death could never part them from their savior." I couldn't believe it. These people loved me this much and I didn't remember, couldn't remember, not one of their faces, not one of the things I had done for them. "Ah, Syd, do not let it bring you down. If they could but see you again..." I looked up at Legolas. He stopped. Silence passed between us.
Finally I broke it, saying, "Let's practice. I didn't come down here to stand around and talk." Legolas smiled and readied his grip.
"Be kind," he said. "You can be quite ruthless. Just do not lose control over yourself. It is easily done."
"Right," I said, taking my own hilt and tightening it in my hands. Legolas lunged towards me. Our swords clanged, mine overpowering his in an upward thrust. Legolas fell back a couple of steps and smiled.
"You are strong," he said. "I had heard before that you could kill any man as you so desired, but I do not believe it. A warrioress you might be, but you cannot outfight me. Long have I waited for a battle with the infamous Narmo Silmarána and I do not intend to lose..." I took a deep breath and went for his shoulder. Legolas averted my blow, but at the last second. One more moment, and it would have hit its target. The pulse in my hands began to overtake my conscious; it drove me on. With every strike, my blade resounded and my heart beat faster. Soon, it didn't even seem like I was fighting. The blood pulsing through my veins was the only sign that told me that I was still breathing.
Legolas went for my waist. I jumped back a couple of paces, landing in a crouching position, and without a moments hesitation, I swung around, my back to him, taking my chances that he wouldn't deliver a blow to me while I was unguarded. I stood as still as a statue, sword lowered at my side, staring ahead. Legolas stopped, just as I suspected he would when I caught him off-guard with such a show. I held the sword up, perfectly centered across my chest, holding it there for a few breathless seconds, collecting my thoughts. I now had a strategy against Legolas: he was easily taken unaware when confronted by something that did not follow the normal pattern of battle. He was a creature of habit. I began to formulate some semblance of an attack. My pulse quickened, time for the onslaught.
"You are awake, good," said Legolas. He took my hand in his and took of the bandage. The cut that had been a great wound the night prior, seemed to be nothing more than a scratch in the morning light.
"You healed it this much overnight?" I asked. Legolas nodded.
"If you are a warrior, you must also be a healer," he answered. "You can thank Aragorn for that certain technique." I laughed. Aragorn, ya right. Wow, being an elf from Middle-Earth put a whole new perspective on things. "Does it feel any better than last night?"
"Ya, it feels better, not perfect though," I said. "But I can't believe that it's this much better..."
"Believe it," replied Legolas. He smiled. "Ms. Silmarána." I laughed.
"Do you think it is better enough that you could come down to the park with me to sword practice?" he asked shyly. "I have never had the chance to train with such a legend. I practiced last night a bit in the case that you might say yes."
"Of course," I said. "Even before breakfast. Just let me get dressed." Before I could say another word, Legolas had dashed out into the hallway. I got up and changed as quickly as possible. Legolas was waiting at the door, two swords in his hands. When he saw me coming, he dashed out the door and down the hallway. I had never seen him move that quickly, even on the football field. He was so excited, how cute. I ran after him. When I got to the park, I couldn't see anyone, so I just took the path. When I was about fifty feet in, I felt something behind me, not directly, but close.
Was it possible that even knowing that I was indeed an elf, no matter how long ago, had elevated my senses? I spun around and caught the sword that Legolas threw with one fluid movement, landing crouching on the ground. I stood up slowly. What had I just done? I didn't know how to do any of that. I had never moved like that in my life.
"Beautiful!" said Legolas. "And that is your sword."
"My sword?" I asked confused.
"The one I found with your body," answered Legolas. I looked down at it, running my hand over the hilt. The sapphire, set in the hilt to balance it, glinted in the morning sun dappling through the leaves. Celtic knots, or elfin knots I suppose, were carved into blade, the minutia of their tiny patterns almost blinding to make out. There were also characters, some sort or runes, written across the blade.
"What do they say?" I asked, finally looking up.
"Tula i'lírë ho i'narmo undu i'tië na llie qualin," Legolas answered. "Follow the cry of the wolf down the path to your death."
"How cheerful..." Legolas laughed.
"You are brutal to you enemies," he replied. "It was said in many tales and ballads that you let battle take control over you, that none were left standing, unless you, yourself, fell."
"And I did..." I said.
"Aye, you did," answered Legolas, and a sorrow came over his voice. "When the news of your death reached to entire Isle...such a mourning has never been seen before, nor I doubt, will it ever be witnessed again. The people, they said they would never forget you or what you had done for them. They love you. They always will. They said that death could never part them from their savior." I couldn't believe it. These people loved me this much and I didn't remember, couldn't remember, not one of their faces, not one of the things I had done for them. "Ah, Syd, do not let it bring you down. If they could but see you again..." I looked up at Legolas. He stopped. Silence passed between us.
Finally I broke it, saying, "Let's practice. I didn't come down here to stand around and talk." Legolas smiled and readied his grip.
"Be kind," he said. "You can be quite ruthless. Just do not lose control over yourself. It is easily done."
"Right," I said, taking my own hilt and tightening it in my hands. Legolas lunged towards me. Our swords clanged, mine overpowering his in an upward thrust. Legolas fell back a couple of steps and smiled.
"You are strong," he said. "I had heard before that you could kill any man as you so desired, but I do not believe it. A warrioress you might be, but you cannot outfight me. Long have I waited for a battle with the infamous Narmo Silmarána and I do not intend to lose..." I took a deep breath and went for his shoulder. Legolas averted my blow, but at the last second. One more moment, and it would have hit its target. The pulse in my hands began to overtake my conscious; it drove me on. With every strike, my blade resounded and my heart beat faster. Soon, it didn't even seem like I was fighting. The blood pulsing through my veins was the only sign that told me that I was still breathing.
Legolas went for my waist. I jumped back a couple of paces, landing in a crouching position, and without a moments hesitation, I swung around, my back to him, taking my chances that he wouldn't deliver a blow to me while I was unguarded. I stood as still as a statue, sword lowered at my side, staring ahead. Legolas stopped, just as I suspected he would when I caught him off-guard with such a show. I held the sword up, perfectly centered across my chest, holding it there for a few breathless seconds, collecting my thoughts. I now had a strategy against Legolas: he was easily taken unaware when confronted by something that did not follow the normal pattern of battle. He was a creature of habit. I began to formulate some semblance of an attack. My pulse quickened, time for the onslaught.