AN: I'M SO SORRY! I was really trying to avoid posting late again but, alas, Midterms decided to rear their ugly heads. I wound up with two tests today plus a story I had to finish for my creative writing class. I didn't finish my creative writing story (it's about a baseball player and sort of based on this story I wrote) until like 2:30AM. My mom was yelling about me going to bed because I had midterms in two classes (Religion, Society, and Culture and Human Reproduction) and I was like mentally dead from the combination of studying/creative writing. I'm, mostly, better today (had a bit of a rough spot in microbiology involving my class, a test next week, and a bunch of threats) and I'm mentally alive again! Anywho, and as always, thank you for the reviews. I really, and truly, appreciate your reviews. They're the best and you lot are the best! OH and CONGRATS TO THE BOSTON RED SOX 2OO4 WORLD SERIES CHAMPS!
Mystic-realm: I'm glad you liked the chapter and I hope you like this next one! Hopefully, I can make this sound just as good as when Niphredil and Fire sparred.
Lindiel Eryn: It's an interesting mental image to say the least and I'm glad you had fun imagining it. Emma's mom actually comes into play in the sort of-semi-kind of like- a sequel to this story. She's just in this story acting as Emma's guardian and, in a way, to keep her out of Thranduil's hair (since the two of them are by no means on friendly terms). Her role, and her purpose, will be expanded in the next story.
sunni07: WOW! I'm glad you were having such a good day! It really rocks like a box of socks when all those good things happen in one day. Those kinds of days are the best. I've had a few of them in the past few weeks....I'm waiting on my post-midterm one now. It's always a really wicked day when those tests are over. Anyway, I'm glad you liked the chapter and I do hope you enjoy the next one too!
Elainor: Wait no longer! They're going to spar very, very soon!
Lindele: Tough my update is a bit late (blasted midterms!), here it is now! I'm happy you liked the story and I thank you for the review.
Levaire: I'm happy you liked their little backwards reverse psychology to get Aragorn motivated. Here's my next update, albeit a little late.
IrethAncalime3791: Here's the next part...a little father/daughter bonding time. Well, bonding time with weapons and fighting skills. Still quality time, I guess!
Ms. Unknown: You! Time for some father/daughter quality time...with weapons and stuff but it's still the two of them.
Elven Script: I'm glad you liked the story! Here's the next part!
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.
Just a quick detour to change clothing, for his kingly garb was not conducive to sword work when he wanted to practice, and Aragorn found his way into the gardens. He paused, standing in a doorway, just watching Niphredil.
She was standing still working with her sword. Her expression was far away, transcending time and place. She was safe in her own little world where it was just her, her weapon, and whatever motion she happened to be doing at the time. To him, Niphredil seemed oddly peaceful, despite the fact her motions were geared toward something not very peaceful.
Aragorn almost felt bad interrupting her. He didn't want to break the silent spell that was binding Niphredil to her motions. The spell that held her concentration firmly in its grasp and wasn't keen on letting it go.
Unless, of course, she was distracted by someone or something outside her own little world. That seemed to be they only way to break the spell upon her. At least, that's what Aragorn thought.
He took a few more steps into the garden, masking his footfalls with ranger practiced skills. Though his skills didn't make his steps invisible to elven sensitive ears. They were keen enough to pick up the softest of shoeless footfalls and his boots were by no means that soft.
Niphredil, though caught up in her own moves, heard the sounds as clear as a bell. She chose to ignore it...for now. If it came any closer then she'd do something.
And closer it came.
Niphredil swung around, two handed grip on her Muggle World blade, and made to attack whatever was heading for her. She pulled out of the attack a moment before the blow would have struck its intended target. Once she saw who was walking towards her, that is.
"I'm so sorry, father," she, hastily, stated as she stood down with her sword at her side, "I didn't know it was you."
She felt her fact flush a bright red, embarrassed by her own actions. Internally she was yelling at herself for not being more careful. She could have seriously hurt her father who just happened to be the ruler of this kingdom. That would have really earned her brownie points, she decided, causing harm to the ruler who had brought peace and prosperity to their lands.
"Quite alright, Niphredil. I should have alerted you to my being here. It was not wise of me to sneak up on an obviously skilled, armed person such as yourself," Aragorn assured his daughter, closing the distance between them; "It was my fault."
Puzzled, Niphredil retorted, "I still should have been paying attention. Doc would have been most displeased with me. Being irresponsible like that. I should have been paying closer attention."
Aragorn gave Niphredil a half warning glance. He didn't like her way of thinking, of the fact she was trying to take the blame all on herself.
"We were both at fault and let us leave it at that," Aragorn stated, his tone slightly final.
Niphredil nodded her acceptance of that idea, really not liking taking all the blame herself. That was not usually in her nature to do. At that moment, though, it felt wrong somehow to place the blame on a parent. Weren't they supposed to be blameless or something? She really didn't know, never having parents to take a model from.
She walked over to where the sheath for her sword lay, preparing to put the weapon away. Her father's appearance made her assume she was wanted back inside for some odd reason. Maybe there was someone else she was supposed to meet or, possibly and if this was true much to her great sadness, she was being called out on account of the fight she had with Fire.
"Niphredil, if I was you, I would not do that," Aragorn called, watching as his daughter's head snapped up to regarding her father, "unless you are keen on testing your skills at a disadvantage."
An oddly bemused expression crossed Niphredil's face. She had heard what her father had said but seemed not to be understanding it. The words couldn't mean what she thought they meant. He couldn't have been hinting at what he was hinting at. There was just no way and, what's more, was that even legal to do?!
"Do you mean what I think you mean?" she asked, her tone seeming to stem from her expression.
She sounded just as baffled as she looked. That fact bringing a smile to her father's face. It was a stark reminder just how young she actually was. That fact tended to get lost someplace because, in human years, she was headed for adulthood. In elven years, she was still very much a child. That was the age she seemed to express best when she as confused or frightened.
"If you believe I mean that I wish to cross swords with my daughter, then yes that is what I mean," Aragorn answered.
Niphredil's expression brightened considerable. The idea of sparring her father- crossing blades with him- seemed exciting to her. Exciting in much the same was spring with Fire was exciting. To test her skills against the skills of someone else with an inherently different style was something she'd never back down from doing.
It wasn't in her nature not to accept a challenge. Plus, if she was going to be entirely honest, it meant some one on one time with her father. There's been an expression back in the Muggle World someone had once quoted about learning about someone through fighting but she was finding the exact words hard to pinpoint now.
"I'd be more than happy to cross swords with you, father," Niphredil admitted, giving her father what learned was a salute with her blade.
Best to show respect and all, especially since he was both her parent and her king. He was probably owed more respect than Fire, anyway.
"Actually, Niphredil, I would first like to get a feel for your style unarmed. We can move on to swords later," he suggested.
Niphredil though for a moment, measuring the meaning in her father's words. They made logical sense since she hadn't a feel for his methods of fighting and he, logically, didn't have a sense of her style. Actually, very few people did but that we neither here nor there.
"That's a good idea," she commented, placing her sword on the ground and trying to sound casual.
Niphredil watched as her father laid down his weapon, cracking his knuckles and wrists before approaching her. Though they seemed mismatched, he being the larger and most obviously stronger of the two and she being a small child, Niphredil wore the same determined look as her father. He wasn't going to get the better of her...that she was sure of.
For a moment, the two just circled each other, looking for someplace to "attack."
Niphredil, thinking this was just like the sparring matches she use to have with Doc way back when, struck first, trying to tag her father with a flurry of stiff, straight kicks. Aragorn was the stronger of the pair, carefully rebuffing his obviously eager daughter.
For a time they danced, both testing their skills against each other. Though, for his part, Aragorn was holding back. The last thing he wanted or needed to do was hurt his own daughter. This was supposed to be all in fun, after all.
Their pitch was fevered and, to anyone who just happened to be passing by or watching from any window, they looked like two blurs. It seemed that time had slowed for the both of them as they tested their styles against one another.
Out of the blue, Aragorn picked up his sword and made to attack Niphredil. Though he was pulling punches on her, he still wanted to see how she would react given a drastic change in circumstances. Test her reaction to surprise.
Niphredil darted out of the way and, audibly, groaned. She'd been drawn away from her own weapon. A rookie's mistake if there ever was one. She chanced a look back behind her, noticing the distance between herself and her weapon.
As Aragorn rushed towards her, making up the small distance she had created by dancing out of his way, Niphredil deftly sprung backwards once...twice...three times. The third landed her near her own weapon. Smile on her face, she took the sword in hand.
Metal met metal and father and daughter continued their odd dance.
They went back and forth, sparring with all the skills they had, until a draw had to be declared. Only due to the fact they had both found themselves falling prey to exhaustion of the physical and mental types.
"You fight well, my daughter," Aragorn commented as they both rested under the shade of a larger tree watching the first starts wink on in the sky, "It would be my honor to complete your training and, perhaps, better acquaint you with how we use a blade."
"I'd like that a lot," Niphredil answered, "I'm always up for learning something new."
The pair sat quietly for a moment before Niphredil blurted out, "You know there was this expression Doc use to use about people fighting each other. I think it went something like 'You do not truly know someone until you fight them.' Never understood that until now."
Deciding not to burst Niphredil's bubble, he commented, "Doc must have been a very wise man. There is a great deal of truth in that statement....a great deal of truth."