Chapter 4- Training

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The next day, we decided that the morning would be spent teaching me to fight. Aragorn and Boromir would help me. I walked over to Aragorn, who promptly handed me his sword. I dropped it. It was way heavier and much more cumbersome than it looked. Next Boromir passed me his shield, which was really hard to handle and ended up on my foot. I shrieked in pain, clutching my toes. Boromir gave Aragorn an I-told-you-we-shouldn't-have-let-her-stay look. Aragorn shot back a deadly glare. Boromir sighed and handed over his sword. It was longer and lighter than Aragorn's, and I was able to make a couple swings with it. They both smiled at me, remembering their own days learning 'swordsmanship,' as they called it. "You will get a good sword in Lorien," Boromir said. "It will have to be very light, though," he added with a smirk. I poked him with his own sword, which he quickly grabbed from me and sheathed.

"All elvish swords are light. Weight will not be a problem," Aragorn replied to Boromir.

Suddenly, Legolas appeared. He looked past me to Aragorn. "She should probably try her hand at archery as well. Having more than one area of skill always helps." I was excited. Ever since I had watched The Hunger Games, I had loved archery. And having Legolas there was definitely a plus. Aragorn and Boromir left. Legolas pulled an arrow out of the quiver on his back and skillfully aligned it. The bowstring snapped back and the arrow soared majestically into the exact center of a nearby tree. This all happened in about two seconds. Legolas then handed me his bow and took off the quiver. I put it on and drew an arrow out. I fit it to the bow. Legolas nodded in approval. I beamed and attempted to pull back the string while still holding the arrow. It didn't work out. At first, I couldn't pull it back at all, then I lost control and the arrow flew out of sight. Legolas smiled. "You need a strong arm to be an archer. We will work on that." Around seventy failed attempts, fifteen lost arrows, and only ten arrows in the tree later, Legolas stopped me.

"Do you need your arrows back?" I asked apologetically.

"It would be helpful if I did, yes," he answered. We started searching around the tree area.

I called out the arrows as I found them. "One, two... Three, four, five-"

"Yrch!" Legolas hissed.

"Bless you," I replied. He shook his head and placed a long finger on his perfect elf lips, drawing his bow. "Is that elvish for 'shut up'?" I whispered. Legolas mouthed the word 'Orcs'. My eyes widened as I flashed back to Aragorn saying 'We will encounter Orcs and possibly worse things. You will need a weapon...' Just then, the ugliest thing I had ever seen jumped out of the bushes. It was about the same size and shape as a regular man, but its features were extremely inhuman. Its ears were pointed like Legolas's, but the resemblance stopped there. Its skin was the exact color of the nasty mold Olivia grew for her science class once. A filthy mat of black dreadlocks covered its head. Its eyes were huge and glowing green, with creepy slit pupils. Its nose looked like a tiny, shriveled pig snout. All in all, it was disgusting. It pulled out a huge, jagged knife and smiled at us with blackish fangs. My brain clicked into slow-mo mode, preparing to shut down forever. Then I heard a thwack! and a horrible high-pitched scream. Legolas had shot it. I felt numb. The awful image of the Orc was burned into my mind. Legolas silently put his hand on my back and led me back to camp.

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