Somehow I found time to update, maybe it was because of final's week
(I had three easy tests because I'm a senior). But I hope this is worth
the wait, I know it's short, but (is anyone even reading this) check back
Monday, I've got another chapter ready to go, but you can't have it yet.
Please excuse the horrible elvish, the translations are in //...//.
For the disclaimer see chapter one.
Please read, review and relax.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Unexpected
-Five Months Later-
'That's it, Strider,' Romney commended Strider as a smile spread across the young man's face. He let his guard down for a second and Romney took the chance to strike at him, coming within inches of his throat. Strider stopped, the smile disappeared from his face- it'd happened again. 'How many times have I told you? Don't let your opponent get to you, whether he compliments you or sneers at you, you must ignore his words. Now try it again.'
Silently berating himself, Strider raised his hands once again. It had been like this everyday for at least a month now. In the morning sword skills, not the ones he'd learned from the elves, but ones that would help him fight in a real battle, ones that were designed for men. They were practical moves, purely designed to get the job done in the most efficient way. And in the evening, when they were settling into camp for the night, it was hand-to-hand combat. Strider enjoyed this the most- the elves never taught him how to fight with his hands. After all an elf never ran out of arrows or blades.
'Good job,' Romney once again commended the young man, but this time Strider ignored the remarks. He would not fall into that trick again, but now Romney pulled a new move on him, slamming his fist into his side. Strider clutched his side, falling to the ground as a sudden wave of pain washed over him. Romney quickly dropped to his side, worried he had hurt Strider.
'Strider,' he asked, 'are you okay?' He watched Strider, waiting for an answer. Finally Strider spoke.
'Yes,' Strider tried to control the throbbing of his ribs, 'it just surprised me. I didn't expect the punch,' Strider sat up, his hand still holding his side.
'Neither did I,' Bari spoke, walking towards the two before crouching down to meet their gaze. 'That was a pretty tough move, Romney.'
'I know, I know, but it'll help him. You know, expect the unexpected, that's the key to mastering hand-to-hand combat.'
'Still I think that's enough for this session.'
'Right, I have to get to my watch anyway,' Romney rose. 'Tomorrow I'll teach you that move, alright?' Romney walked back to the camp.
'Strider, let me have a look at your side. That move of Romney's packs quite a punch.' Bari said as he began to lift up Strider's shirt. 'Yestin would not be happy if we have to halt our travel due to injuries.'
It had been like this for quite a while now. The men had taken a liking to him, teaching him new tricks, watching over him during the days and coming to his aid during battle.
'Does this hurt?' Bari asked, pressing lightly on his side.
'Not much,' Strider answered stiffly.
'How about this?' Bari pressed on another spot.
Strider hissed slightly, biting back the pain from Bari's continued prodding.
'Nay,' Strider spoke, teeth clenched. Bari stopped, hearing Strider. He gave him a look of disbelief.
'Strider, do not lie to me,' he waited for an answer, but Strider remained silent, so he finished his examination.
'No serious damage,' Bari began, putting Strider's shirt back down, 'just a little sore. You'll probably develop a nice bruise.'
'Thank you, ' Strider did appreciate their kindness, but he wasn't a child, he could see to his own wounds.
'No problem.' There was an awkward silence between them.
'Well, I've got to get going. The men are probably starved,' Strider stood.
'Right and I've go to see to my horse.' The two nervously departed.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The evening passed by without event. The men ate the meal Strider prepared and Strider cleaned up afterwards. After seeing to his horse, his last chore of the day, Strider set down to have a smoke from his pipe, something Yestin had taught him. He had been uncomfortable with it at first, but after a while it had become habit. It relaxed him, especially after a hard day like today. Settling into his seat on the ground, he closed his eyes, allowing the sweet smell of the smoke to soothe him. He drifted off; everything was calm and peaceful; nothing was happening except for a quiet scuffle across the camp- two elves it seemed. Ah yes it was elves- one didn't want to let the other pass for he had just come up.
'Im faeg le รบ trasta.'
//I mean you no harm//
'Anna men lin eneth randir o ir edhellen lam. Ped na hortha.'
//Give us your name stranger of the elvish tongue. Speak with speed.//
Please excuse the horrible elvish, the translations are in //...//.
For the disclaimer see chapter one.
Please read, review and relax.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Unexpected
-Five Months Later-
'That's it, Strider,' Romney commended Strider as a smile spread across the young man's face. He let his guard down for a second and Romney took the chance to strike at him, coming within inches of his throat. Strider stopped, the smile disappeared from his face- it'd happened again. 'How many times have I told you? Don't let your opponent get to you, whether he compliments you or sneers at you, you must ignore his words. Now try it again.'
Silently berating himself, Strider raised his hands once again. It had been like this everyday for at least a month now. In the morning sword skills, not the ones he'd learned from the elves, but ones that would help him fight in a real battle, ones that were designed for men. They were practical moves, purely designed to get the job done in the most efficient way. And in the evening, when they were settling into camp for the night, it was hand-to-hand combat. Strider enjoyed this the most- the elves never taught him how to fight with his hands. After all an elf never ran out of arrows or blades.
'Good job,' Romney once again commended the young man, but this time Strider ignored the remarks. He would not fall into that trick again, but now Romney pulled a new move on him, slamming his fist into his side. Strider clutched his side, falling to the ground as a sudden wave of pain washed over him. Romney quickly dropped to his side, worried he had hurt Strider.
'Strider,' he asked, 'are you okay?' He watched Strider, waiting for an answer. Finally Strider spoke.
'Yes,' Strider tried to control the throbbing of his ribs, 'it just surprised me. I didn't expect the punch,' Strider sat up, his hand still holding his side.
'Neither did I,' Bari spoke, walking towards the two before crouching down to meet their gaze. 'That was a pretty tough move, Romney.'
'I know, I know, but it'll help him. You know, expect the unexpected, that's the key to mastering hand-to-hand combat.'
'Still I think that's enough for this session.'
'Right, I have to get to my watch anyway,' Romney rose. 'Tomorrow I'll teach you that move, alright?' Romney walked back to the camp.
'Strider, let me have a look at your side. That move of Romney's packs quite a punch.' Bari said as he began to lift up Strider's shirt. 'Yestin would not be happy if we have to halt our travel due to injuries.'
It had been like this for quite a while now. The men had taken a liking to him, teaching him new tricks, watching over him during the days and coming to his aid during battle.
'Does this hurt?' Bari asked, pressing lightly on his side.
'Not much,' Strider answered stiffly.
'How about this?' Bari pressed on another spot.
Strider hissed slightly, biting back the pain from Bari's continued prodding.
'Nay,' Strider spoke, teeth clenched. Bari stopped, hearing Strider. He gave him a look of disbelief.
'Strider, do not lie to me,' he waited for an answer, but Strider remained silent, so he finished his examination.
'No serious damage,' Bari began, putting Strider's shirt back down, 'just a little sore. You'll probably develop a nice bruise.'
'Thank you, ' Strider did appreciate their kindness, but he wasn't a child, he could see to his own wounds.
'No problem.' There was an awkward silence between them.
'Well, I've got to get going. The men are probably starved,' Strider stood.
'Right and I've go to see to my horse.' The two nervously departed.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The evening passed by without event. The men ate the meal Strider prepared and Strider cleaned up afterwards. After seeing to his horse, his last chore of the day, Strider set down to have a smoke from his pipe, something Yestin had taught him. He had been uncomfortable with it at first, but after a while it had become habit. It relaxed him, especially after a hard day like today. Settling into his seat on the ground, he closed his eyes, allowing the sweet smell of the smoke to soothe him. He drifted off; everything was calm and peaceful; nothing was happening except for a quiet scuffle across the camp- two elves it seemed. Ah yes it was elves- one didn't want to let the other pass for he had just come up.
'Im faeg le รบ trasta.'
//I mean you no harm//
'Anna men lin eneth randir o ir edhellen lam. Ped na hortha.'
//Give us your name stranger of the elvish tongue. Speak with speed.//