In response to Aralinn, I am making my elves a bit warmer. I always felt that the movie adaptation was rather cold and formal. I just have this image of elves being these fair, playful, kind creatures. I feel like if they acted stoic and reserved all the time, they would just get bored so fast. I mean, they essentially live forever unless they're killed in combat. What kind of life would that be? Being serious all the time?
Enjoy
As the day wore on, I started to notice that I was feeling odd.
I discovered the reason for my not feeling quite right later that night, before I went to bed, when I went to the bathroom to find that my underwear were stained red.
That sent me into a slight panic as I tried to figure out what to do about it, and ended up wrapping bandages extensively around the crotch of another pair of underwear.
It felt really awkward, but at least I wasn't going to stain another pair of underwear while I looked for a solution.
I ended up leaving the relative safety of my room to go ask Athea what I should do, feeling kind of lost without modern luxuries.
That was a rather awkward conversation.
For me, at least.
She seemed perfectly comfortable talking about matters of the body.
Normally it isn't something I was squeamish about, but usually the people I talked about it with were people I actually knew better.
She supplied me with a few pieces of thickly layered fabric pads that tied on to the crotch of my underwear, and explained that I could simply wash them out with soap whenever I went to the bathroom.
When I finally made it back to my room it was probably at least midnight, though I had little sense of exact time since being in Middle Earth. I decided to try sleeping inside that night, so that I wouldn't miss Glorfindel's wake up call.
The night did not go well.
I lay in bed, eyes closed, trying to still my mind enough to sleep for a number of hours.
Eventually I drifted off, only to be awoken multiple times through the night, drenched in cold sweat, biting the inside of my cheeks to keep from making noise, and breathing very erratically.
The nightmares had been coming less frequently recently, but they weren't gone entirely.
The first couple nightmares slipped away when I awoke.
It was the final one that was the worst.
This time it had been a dream that I found Rivendell, only to find that everyone was dead.
At first I hadn't realized, as the first couple I came across were laying peacefully, eyes open, and I assumed them sleeping.
As I got closer to the main house, though, their eyes started closing, their bodies became injured or mangled, and the lush grass in the gardens became stained with blood.
Inside the main house I'd found the council, all impaled into their chairs with spears or swords, the hobbits lying in a pool of their blood in the bushes with their throats slit.
Elrond, the only of the council not impaled to a chair, lay upside down over the pedestal the ring had been on, back broken and curved over it, his eyes staring at me without sight, the ring resting on his chest innocently.
It was at this point that I woke up, flung my blankets back, and rushed to the window to vomit into the grass that lay just outside.
My breathing was erratic, panic clutching at my chest and squeezing the breath out of me.
I threw up again a few minutes later, despite not having anything left to expel.
It was another half hour before I could breath, and another fifteen minutes after that before I could tear myself away from the window, making my way over to the desk in the corner that had a pitcher of water.
I had to rinse my mouth three times before the taste was faded enough to tolerate.
For a few minutes I sat on the edge of the bed, knowing that I wouldn't be able to sleep again that night, despite that it was likely still a number of hours before dawn would come.
Eventually, I decided that if I was going to be up, I may as well do something, so I moved over to the wardrobe, finding the clothes Athae had provided for training.
It was a pair of simple fabric breeches, a breast band with ties in the back, a loose shirt, a belt, and a pair of leather boots.
I donned them as quickly as I could, still feeling emotionally drained from the nightmare, and trying to ignore the painful ache of cramps.
The feeling of confinement grew the longer I stayed inside, so once I was dressed, I went straight out the window, not wanting to traverse the halls of the main house.
I was careful not to step in the mess of vomit I'd made, and cringed a little as I jumped over it, hoping it went unnoticed.
For a while I tried sitting in the garden to calm down, but as the minutes drew on, I found myself fidgeting more and more.
Eventually, I could stand the stillness no longer, and I stood, walking quickly to the stables.
The sight of Valen and Arron alive and well was comforting, but also a reminder of the dream, so I spent only a few moments petting them and talking to them before leaving.
It was still quite dark out, so I almost didn't notice the building a short ways away from the stables.
Curiosity struck me, so I moved towards it, needing something to distract myself from my thoughts.
The door opened easily, revealing a room filled with various weapons and armors.
Hesitantly, I entered.
No one had shown me this building.
I vaguely wondered if I wasn't supposed to be here, then disregarded that thought.
They hadn't told me anything was off limits.
Better to ask forgiveness than permission, right?
For a few minutes I simply stepped slowly through the armory, looking at the assortment of weapons and armor.
Beautiful Elven swords rested on racks and stands secured to the walls, below them were a number of wooden crates with various daggers, shields, and swords that looked more worn.
Further in were crates with scaled chainmail, plate armor for both legs and arms, gauntlets, and next to those were shelves of plate chest pieces and helmets.
I peeked outside, observing a number of training posts set up nearby, large logs wrapped in a thick layer of hay and tied several times, as well as a few laying down, clearly to replace the current ones when they were destroyed.
Well, Glorfindel wasn't here yet, but there wasn't any reason not to start training now.
Perhaps hitting something over and over would help me get the nightmare out of my mind.
With that decision made, I stepped the rest of the way into the armory, inspecting rack upon rack of assorted weapons.
I briefly worried that I might break something and they would be unhappy with me, consoling myself with the fact that if they couldn't break things with their elven strength, I most certainly wouldn't break things with my normal female strength.
With that thought in mind, I picked one of the many swords that were stacked in a large box.
They looked dulled, and when I tested the edge, I found that they were.
Probably practice swords, my mind supplied.
I selected one, finding it to be heavier than I expected, and made my way out to the training dummy with it.
For a moment, I stood, experimenting with different ways of holding it and different ways of placing my feet.
Eventually I settled on gripping the hilt with both hands, with a few inches between them.
I positioned my right foot in front of me, turning my body slightly at an angle, and swung.
The sword skittered off the wood in an entirely unsatisfying way, so I swung again, trying to put more force into it.
I continued slashing and whacking at the training dummy, losing track of time as I tried to think of ways to improve.
The sky became brighter as I hacked and slashed away, not really noticing my surroundings, or the bunch of lightly armored elves that were trickling into the area, shooting me curious glances before turning to their own training.
I paused, arms burning, breathing hard, but feeling quite good.
It felt like the dummy had been my dream, and now it sat before me, splinters and chunks of wood strewn around it on the ground, the hay that had been tied around it having exploded off quite some time ago.
"That was quite good. Have you been trained with a sword before?"
Glorfindel's voice came from behind me, causing me to jump, spin around awkwardly, drop the sword, and slip on all the hay that was littering the ground, falling inelegantly with a flail of my arms and a cry of surprise.
Glorfindel jumped forward, catching me around the waist as I fell and hauling me up.
As he helped me get stable again, he spoke, voice rich with stifled laughter, "Well at least now we know you definitely need to work on being alert while you fight."
I tried not to cringe, this day just kept getting worse. First my period started, then nightmares, now I was making a fool of myself.
Just great.
That day was pretty miserable, but I felt like we made decent progress for the first day.
Glorfindel was strict, but a fairly good teacher.
We started out with basic stretches, not that he needed it, but he explained that he had helped to train Aragorn, so he knew it would help my body cope easier with the training.
After stretches, he gave me a bow and for the next hour or so, all I did was draw it without an arrow, holding the position until he had fixed any problems in my stance and technique.
It was a long bow, and though I didn't know the draw weight, I had to assume it was fairly low, because I could draw it fully.
It wasn't easy, but I could do it.
He corrected me every time I did something wrong with footwork or how I held myself.
I did an alright job of not snapping at him, which I was quite proud of, because I felt progressively worse as the day wore on, though it evened out somewhere around midday, lack of sleep and cramps making an already difficult activity just that much harder.
We paused for a morning meal at what I guessed was around nine or ten, my arms thoroughly aching from being held up so long.
As he herded me over to the side of the training area, he produced a small pouch filled with a variety of fruits, vegetables, and small wafers of soft bread.
I flopped onto the grass with a soft groan of pain, mostly from the sore muscles, but also partially because of the period cramps.
He settled next to me, pulling an apple from his bag and starting to slice it up with a small dagger, watching me with an amused smile all the while.
"You know, we're taking a break to eat, not to nap. I brought enough for both of us."
I reached an arm towards him feebly, only to find that he'd settled just out of reach, and he was now smiling wider.
"You seem tired. Perhaps I'm working you too hard?"
"That's so...so..."
Mean! Unfair! Cruel!
I have restraint, damn it!
He watched me, smiling eagerly.
Happy, come on, channel his optimism.
"So nice of you, to bring extra to share with me! Thank you!"
I groaned again and pressed myself up into a sitting position, crawling the few feet over to him.
He laughed and offered me an apple slice, apparently as a reward for making the effort, and for not snapping at him.
After eating and stretching, we worked exclusively on pulling arrows from the quiver and setting them on the string, without drawing or firing.
The sun had reached it's peak and was starting to fall when he called a break for the midday meal.
I flopped onto my back on the grass underneath a tree.
He looked like he was trying very hard not to laugh.
"Shall I fetch us a meal? I would hate to deprive the ground of such a lovely ornament."
I laughed, and then stifled a groan at how it made my sore abs twinge.
"Good plan. I'll stay here and hold down the fort."
He gave a cheerful laugh, leaving with the parting call of, "Don't fall asleep down there."
He allowed a longer break for that meal, but he quizzed me about what sorts of techniques he had been correcting me on all morning, so it didn't really feel that much like a break.
After lunch, I was feeling rather like my arms were hotdogs, or very over cooked noodles.
He made me stretch again, and then handed me a practice sword, corrected my grip, and started showing me stances.
Holding the sword felt slightly easier since most of the stances allowed my arms to be a bit closer to my body, and therefore easier to hold steady.
My muscles were shaking from the strain, though, so he let me be done only an hour or so after we started working with the sword.
I trudged back to my room to clean up, then went to the library for lessons with Erestor.
The next day proved to be even more miserable than the previous one, as I not only had nightmares, but also woke up incredibly sore.
I forced myself outside again far earlier than dawn, and spent the early morning beating on another helpless training post.
This time, when the sky lightened and Glorfindel eventually broke my single minded focus, I only jumped and spun around, managing to keep a hold on the sword and not fall this time.
This time, he had me try a glaive.
It was awkward, but fun to use.
When he first handed it to me, I couldn't help but ask, "Why a glaive?"
His voice was completely serious when he responded,
"You are a small person, and not terribly physically strong. Your best chance in combat is something that either kills your enemy before they can get to you, or keeps you out of reach of your enemy. Thus, a bow, or something with a longer reach, like a glaive, or spear."
That was easy logic to accept, so I focused back on his teaching, not wanting to waste energy on speaking.
First, he taught me a number of combat ready positions, on the balls of my feet, knees bent, slightly angled to present a smaller target.
Then he made me hold the position for a few minutes, nudging me and trying to make me fall over.
I was pretty sure he was enjoying that part far more than he should.
My thighs were burning after only a few minutes of holding the position, I was sweating profusely despite the cool air around us, and I was cursing him in my head.
He smiled, as if he could see my thoughts on my face.
"Enjoying yourself?"
I gritted my teeth.
Pleasant things.
Cheerful things.
Damn him to some place eternally bright and sunny, so I didn't have to see his stupid radiant smile and annoyingly beautiful face!
My voice was slightly strained when I spoke, but I forced a bright smile onto my face, and was able to keep most of the sarcasm out of my voice.
"Oh yes, I'm having a splendid time. Isn't it just a lovely day for training?"
There, that was pleasant enough.
His smile widened, and he let me stop holding the position.
The sense of accomplishment I got for not cursing him aloud was a far better reward than being able to stand normally again.
He then gave me the glaive, instructing me on how and where to hold it.
The staff of it was made of wood, with a long, slightly curved dull metal blade at the top.
I felt like if I had a black cloak, I could pretend to be the grim reaper.
He taught me a number of different guard and attack positions, explaining that if I were to choose this weapon as my primary weapon, I would be given one with a metal staff to make it more effective as a blocking weapon if needed.
He then made me name and hold the positions for a few minutes, then called them out, making me switch between them.
Then, because my arms and legs weren't already tired enough, he made me hold the combat ready position, and switch between the guard and attack positions with the glaive.
We paused then, for a morning meal consisting of a few cold slices of cooked meat, and an apple for each of us. He'd brought meals again, planning ahead far better than I had.
After we ate, he took the glaive and gave me the bow from yesterday.
I had to fight really hard with myself not to give him a dirty look.
Glorfindel swore it was easier this way, having warmed up my muscles with the glaive.
I mentally swore that he just hated my dirty, rotten guts, all the while forcing another bright smile.
The bow training went much like the day before, drawing without an arrow for about an hour, which was considerably more difficult with already sore muscles.
Then placing an arrow on the string, for another hour.
I was thoroughly aching and sore by the time he actually let me draw the bow with an arrow.
Of course, he didn't let me fire it.
When he let me go, shortly after midday, I flopped on the ground and groaned, "I'm dying"
He laughed, "No, you simply need to suffer a bit so that you don't die later."
Peering down at me, he grinned a bit smugly, "And I must say, I'm rather disappointed. 'I'm dying' isn't cheerful or positive. Have you failed your challenge after only two days?"
I groaned again.
"I'm dying of happiness?"
He laughed again, reaching down to help me up, "I'll let it go this time."