AN: Hi all! I just got back from going to see the NY Mets play the Florida Marlins for Italian night (went to Irish Day, too, but that was over the weekend). Of course, the Mets, my poor, poor team of choice, lost despite the fact three players (including the returning Mike Piazza) hit home runs. I did, however, catch a t-shirt during the team's "Pepsi T-Shirt Launch" which was kind of cool considering I've never done that before and I spend an inordinate amount of my summer at Shea Stadium (home to the NY Mets and the Shea faithful). Anywho, school starts for me next Tuesday (along with my dance classes and Girl Scout stuff later that week) and, of course, it has to start with Microbiology Lab at the wonderful time of 8:30AM. I don't mind the early time, though, since it means I get out early too. Oh the fun of college! Thanks, as always, to my reviewers. You lot are truly the best and I appreciate all your comments...good, bad, or indifferent!

Mystic-realm: I'm glad you liked the story and the chapter. Good luck with your math and I'm glad my advice helped. Math's not one of my favorite subjects in any form it takes. That includes the math-hidden-as-science known as Physics. Again, I wish you lots of luck!

IrethAncalime3791: Sorry about the cliffhanger thing. It's kind of a bad habit I should try to break before taking Creative Writing. I'm not sure about the anti-Mary-Sue patrol either. They seem a bit harsh but that's just me. I'm glad that some like my story, though. It makes me quite happy. I'll see what I can do about an Aragorn/Elrond meeting a bit later!

LJP: That one thing coming up! The chapter was supposed to be longer but my sister decided to come in and bother me for a few hours. Since I'm pretty darn sure my mother would have screamed her head off at me if I'd gone to bed later than I was already going to bed, I had to cut where I was going to end the chapter. Hence the reason for the cliffhanger and this chapter!

Anonymous: First things, first, I hope school went well. The first few days (or weeks, in my sister's case) are always the toughest. I'm sorry, if the question was a distraction for you but here's the question and its answer!

Disclaimer: I own nothing except for a handful of made up characters. Tolkien thought up the concept and, as such, it belongs to him. I'm just playing in his world. I'm broke and in college. All I own are Pointe Shoes.

Niphredil sat silently, waiting for whatever he was going to ask her. She was curious as to its nature, of course. It could have been anything from something she didn't want to answer about her past to something she could answer, like about her feelings towards her new home or her parents or something from her past she felt she could speak freely about.

It seemed those she had spoken to- save Emma who knew far too much about the Muggle World- seemed interested in the day to day activities of those living in the other world. Perhaps it was akin to her curiosity about the nature of her new home...something naturally felt when confronted with a new situation.

Of course, she could only tell them of what she knew and of what she wanted to tell them. There were things she could not speak of either because she had never experienced them or because she had and she felt it was in her best interest not to speak of them. They still hurt too much, like a phantom pain from a limb that had been removed so many years ago.

She knew that she was going to have to square away with those memories, much like she had to clear the air between herself and both her parents. That time, though, she hoped was in the far future. Everything here was still too new, too fresh, too amazing to her. The taint those memories- most of those memories- was not something she wanted staining the new memories she was busily creating.

"Are you armed?" Elrond asked, startling Niphredil form her thoughts.

Out of all the questions she had been toying with in her head that was one of the few she hadn't thought of. It seemed, to her, out of place given the course of their conversation. They had been talking about families and parentage and things along those lines. Weapons and warfare were not even mentioned. Unless she missed something, which she strongly hoped she didn't.

That would have had her feeling quite foolish for she was trying to give this elf her utmost attention.

"Armed, as in with a weapon? Not now. Why do you ask?" she replied, though she knew it was quite rude to answer a question with questions of her own.

Elrond appeared, momentarily, disappointed with her answer.

"I was told," he explained, seeing her expression change from one of shock to one of dismay, "by a party I would rather not give a name to that you arrived here with an odd weapon. A sword of some type, I was led to believe. I would have liked to have seen it."

"I've been keeping it in my room. I wasn't sure how others would react to seeing it. I'm not sure if it differs any from the weaponry carried here," she admitted, sounding sheepish.

With the guards around the citadel being the only exception, she had not seen much of anything where weapons were concerned. Maybe it was a result of the peace that seemed to reign over the city but she wasn't all that sure. Not that she was wishing for something terrible to happen just so she could satisfy her curiosity and her need to test her own skills against those of the people who lived in Middle Earth.

"Gandalf told you I came here with a weapon?" she broached, "I'm curious as to what else he told you."

Thinking fast, she hastily added, "Not that I want to seem self absorbed or anything. It's just that I am curious about what was made of one of my favorite hobbies in the Muggle World."

With an odd smile- She'd decided that smiling wasn't something Elrond did on a regular enough basis to make the look entirely natural. - Elrond grew thoughtfully silent. He had been told a great many things about the form of defense his granddaughter chose to practice. To him, it sounded quite odd given how she should have been trained. The style differed a great deal from that used by both elves and men in Middle Earth. Of course, the Muggle World itself different in so many ways from this world. Ways, Elrond was relieved to know, that would never come to be realized in this world. Unless a great many changes too place.

"I was told that it was something called martial arts and that you were well trained in some strange sort of sword place and unarmed combat. The only one who could make any sense of it was, Emma. Though she claimed she knew very little about it for she had no experience with it herself," he, finally, answered.

Niphredil allowed herself a small laugh. It made sense that Emma was the only one who understood. After all, she'd most likely seen various forms of martial arts in the Muggle World. Be those forms in movies or on television or in person.

That decided, Niphredil came to the conclusion that the fighting style used in Middle Earth differed greatly from the one she had chosen to learn. A test of skill, of her fighting style against the one employed in this world, seemed like something she was going to have to undertake someday. Just to see if the two could be melded together or were entities so separated that they could not, like oil and water, be combined.

"It's called Tae Kwan Do, a form of martial arts from the Muggle World. I was one of three girls that managed to earn a high honor called a black belt within the dojo I trained in. It was that honor that allowed my trained to present me with my sword. Well, that and the fact I won a great many competitions with that sword," she answered.

Her answer brought not clarity to the face of her grandfather. Rather the could of confusion grew to something that amounted to a fog of confusion. Of a cloud that had touched ground and settled there obscuring everything from the lights of the streets to the faces of those walking along the clouded ways.

Fogs could be lifted though in a great many ways. They could move with the wind, being blown off only to settle somewhere else. They could also be burned off by the sun, bringing light to the obscured streets and by-ways.

Of the fog clouding the face of the eleven lord before her, Niphredil decided the latter route was her best choice of removal. Only the brightness of knowledge, like the brightness of the sun, could remove the fog. It was up to her to provide that knowledge, like it was up to the sun to burn off the fog on the streets.

She took a deep breath and let it out. This explanation was going to take quite some time for her to properly word and figure out in order for that knowledge to be properly conveyed. Lest more clouds add to the fig and she find that the task before her was insurmountable.

Starting slowly, Niphredil explained the nature of Tae Kwan Do- as taught to her by Doc- and how she was one member in a larger group that was trained to use their skills in the real world, the world outside of class, only when the need was dire and physical conflict could not be avoided. She told him of competitions where her skills were put to the test against the skills of others or alone before a panel of judges.

Words painted pictures of flying fists and feet. Of skilled young adults doing what was both useful and pleasurable. Of a type of fighting that seemed to be both flowing and abrupt. Of using the mind and the body in conjunction with one another. Of working so closely with others that a "sixth sense," a precognition almost, developed to the point where motions could be predicted from experience.

"I am not sure I fully understand what you are speaking of, my child. This is an art form we do not know about here. And you say that there were females among your group that shared your skills?" Elrond questioned, after listening with rapt attention about her experiences with the mysterious martial arts.

"Well, it wasn't so much of a 'boys only' club and our skills were nothing close to being the same. True we were trained by the same teacher and we all learned the same moves but we were farm from being the same. Everyone one of us took what we were taught and gave it a personal touch," Niphredil answered, shy smile on her face.

Differences, something not to be celebrated in the Muggle World where she was concerned, were not something to be openly displayed. They were to be kept hidden behind closed doors until they could be properly broken down and sameness, uniformity, established.

Doc, though, felt otherwise. To him, in his humble opinion, differences were something to be celebrated and put on displays for the mutual benefit of all.

FLASHBACK

Once a month, classes were different. Once a month the boys were asked to stay home and not come to class. They were told to stay away, for their own safety of course. Doc was busy training his girls and, if they dared to break the rules and to show up, they were going to be asked to spar each and everyone of the girls not once, not twice, but thrice.

Females had come and gone in the class. Leaving for a variety of reasons and giving excuses that were as see through as the windows that lined the storefront area of the dojo. Some had said that the class was boring. Others that they were busy. Still more said that they just lacked the time to complete the training.

In truth, they were afraid of getting hurt and of taking a hit form the boys- or even the other girls- in the class.

Doc claimed, though, that this only proved the mettle of the three girls who had chosen to stick with their training and to move up the ranks until he had three black belted females on his hands.

They were his girls, his "Furious Angels," and, once a month, they got a class to themselves.

In the class, he taught them what he felt every female should know about defended herself on the mean streets of the world. They learned how to fend off would be purse snatchers and other less savory types of attackers. His worked paid dividends when Carla, by and far the toughest of the trio, came in with a broken half of a knife wielded by someone who had attempted to mug her on the way to class. Doc had been so pleased with the way she had handled the would be attacker that he had the broken weapon mounted for her.

Niphredil, herself, never went spoiling for a fight. She never wanted that kind of recognition. Just knowing she could handle that type of situation brought a certain type of pride to her. She wasn't helpless like Jane and some of the others she knew. She could take care of herself if the need arose.

It was in one of these special classes that Doc presented his "Furious Angels" with a proposition. One of his friends, and fellow Tae Kwan Do instructors, was paying him a visit. With him was coming his three best female students under the pretense that Doc and his female students could learn a thing or two from them.

"I sincerely doubt that," came the haughty reply of Angie, "I'm the single most skilled female in the entire class. Siddy told me so."

Niphredil cough to cover up the snigger that threatened to bubble out of her. She couldn't imagine Sid telling Angie anything of the sort. If anything, he always had some small criticism for everyone in the class. They were always meaningful, though, said more to help than to harm. He wanted to see them improve in everyway possible.

"Well, we can't let that happen. What are we going to do, Doc?" Carla asked, bringing the conversation back to its original starting point.

"I was thinking about putting on a similar display. One that highlights your individual styles and strengths though forms, set to music maybe," Doc suggested.

Forms, Niphredil well knew, were set chains of motions that were used to show just how much they had learned and were put on display during a "belt test." Everyone learned the same forms in the same way but individual differences created subtle nuances in them. No two people did the forms the same way, just because no two people were the same.

Plan agreed upon by all, they got to work.

For weeks they drilled the two forms they were going to display, working with a piece of music aptly titled "Furious Angels" by Rob Dougan. The piece, chosen by the boys in the class once they got wind of the plan, was good for working with for it didn't overwhelm the listener. Instead, it provided a backdrop for the forms that enhanced what was being shown. It gave the motions body and strength, a sort of musical soul that the plain motions lacked.

When the day finally arrived, Niphredil felt as tight as a knotted cord. She was afraid of messing up, of casting a negative light on her trainer. She wanted to do her best in the worst way. The disparaging glances she, Angie, and Carla received from the three students the other teacher brought with him didn't exactly help either.

"Ladies, I'd like you to meet an old friend. This is Roland," Doc said, as the other trainer surveyed the three girls.

Roland was a tall man, a head and a half taller than Doc and far better built. He was study, muscular without being heavy or clumsy, and had a powerful air about him. He looked as if he could break anyone smaller than he in half without even trying.

The same air Roland carried seemed to transfer over to the trio of students he had brought with him. They rivaled Carla in height and Angie in intensity on their faces. All were dark of hair and of eye and were quite tall in stature, looking more like clones than individual humans.

"It's pleasure to meet you," Roland stated, though his face said otherwise, "allow me to introduce my students. That's Katy, Juliana, and Simone."

The three girls just glared down their noses at Carla, Angie, and Niphredil. They, like their instructor, looked as of they could not be bothered with the trio, Doc's "Furious Angels." Doc's team that consisted of three members who ran the extremes of appearance and build.

"So, shall we do this?" Doc brought yup, breaking the heavy silence in the normally lighthearted room.

"Yes, lets. I can't wait for you to see what my girls can do," Roland answered, obviously proud of his team.

A few minutes later, owing to the fact Roland's team had to change into their gear; Niphredil found herself sitting against one of the walls in the dojo. On her left sat Angie and Carla. Doc and Roland sat to her right.

"Pay attention, little ladies. You can learn a thing or two from these girls," Roland stated, talking to Doc's girls as if they were little children.

A scathing glare from Doc had them all biting back the comments they wanted to spit at the other instructor. They were not lesser students nor were they poorly trained. They were different, that was true, but that was not a bad thing. If anything, it gave the team character. Character Roland's team sorely lacked in their communal opinions.

No music accompanied the work done by Roland's trio. Instead, they simply sparred for a quarter of an hour.

Niphredil had to admit- though she was loath to do so- that they were skilled and were powerful. They were well trained and could adapt to any situation. Moves appeared to be improvised at a regular rate allowing for a greater degree of improvisation.

Despite all that, they're sameness bothered her. There was nothing personal about the way they moved and the way they confronted each other. Even the way they adapted and improvised seemed to be the same in some small scale ways.

"They're good, Roland, very good. It's a shame, though," Doc commented, getting to his feet and hobbling over to the radio.

"Why's it a shame, Doc?" Roland questioned, after beaming at his team.

Doc allowed his students to take the floor and arrange themselves in size order ranks. Being the tallest, Carla stood at the far right with Angie in the middle and Niphredil, being the shortest, on the far left.

"Because my girls are just that much better," he commented, just before turning the radio on.

The music and the motions carried Niphredil away, moving her to their subtle rhythms. She became one with both, well practiced motions making all the jitters she once had fade into memory. She was comfortable in the situation, well in control of what she was going.

First they did their forms together as a way to highlight the unity their shared motions provided, the bond it created between them. To show that despite the differences in outward appearance, they were all on the same skill level. They were all up to the challenge some of the higher forms provided.

Then they did them separately. This was to show their differences, the small somethings that made them unique individuals.

Carla being the eldest in the group, both in age and in skill, went first. Her motions were powerful and strong, imposing to even those who trained with her. She moved as if she was fighting against something but no one, save her, could say what that something was.

After her came Angie. For all her flightiness and flakiness, she fought with a inner fire that burned brighter than a thousand suns. She tackled the moves with a certain type of spirit that was indefinable, uniquely her own.

Finally, Niphredil had her chance. The butterflies were gone and she was in her own zone. The one place where no one could bother her and even the Joneses couldn't reach her. Like a whirling, twisting tornado she moved. The strange grace that gave her silent footfalls and, sometimes, a flexibility that rivaled Olympic gymnasts came to the fore. Every move was swift and practiced, yet graceful in their own ways.

The piece ended with them, once again, unified under the same common banner with the same common moves, the same common forms. This was to reinforce the fact that, despite their differences, they were still a working unit, a cohesive team.

"Well, what do you have to say to that?" Doc asked, giving Roland a moment to digest what he had just witnessed.

"What are they?" he asked, stammering a bit.

The lack of uniform appearance had led him to believe that this was a team of lesser strength than his own. Their differences had torn a whole in the heart of Doc's work and, without a heart; it lacked the ability to survive.

Yet, there it was. Alive and well, with a strong heart beat. The beat provided by the differences in Doc's "Furious Angels."

END FLASHBACK

"Why did you ask if I was armed?" Niphredil brought up, batting away the thick memories from before her eyes.

"Despite the relative peace that you see here, a lady should not go about unarmed. There are dark things still in the world that have not yet fallen," Elrond answered.

She wanted to ask more, have him elaborate on just what that meant, when a spot of movement caught her eye. There was someone standing in one of the entrances waiting to be noticed.