Kayli --

Oh, this is a nifty bunch. Valar, but I wish I was back in Gondor, training with my Men, most of whom at least know which end of the sword goes where. It's a good thing they don't have to use brute force. They'd be fucked.

Elrohir looked politely stunned. Elladan patted me on the back and told me not to hurt them. Legolas laughed himself out of breath.

My brothers -- Boromir, in particular --would be having a field day if they knew that I was training a bunch of kids.

I didn't know it was possible to want somebody around and be glad they weren't there at the same time. Emotions are odd things. They only things I know on the human, Elf, Hobbit, or Dwarf structure that can be completely bloody contrary.

Elbereth, they're pathetic.

Harry's there, along with Hermione, Ron, and his sister Ginny. Charlie's standing back by the lake, with the nurse. Pomfrey, or something like that. I recognize the pale kid with the pointy face from my first day concious. The girl from the Transfiguration class, the one with the flower name. The kid with the star charts, Neville, is standing back by Charlie and Pomfrey, looking nervous.

Of course, they all look nervous. It might have something to do with the fact that there are Elves in the trees.

I roll my neck, trying to work out some of the tension. Yes, I am tense. I really, really don't want to do this. But if I don't fucking do something, I'm going to go nuts. Nuttier, even. Harry gives me an encouraging smile. That's really not comforting, however. I can still hear Legolas chuckling quietly behind me.

"All right," I say after a long second. My Men would be threatened by my tone of voice alone. Of course, at the moment, I don't really look all that threatening. A tank top and jeans are not threatening apparel. Now if I wore a long black robe, that would probably be threatening. But I'd feel like I was in a casting call for the Exorcist, so no dice.

"Have any of you ever used a sword? A knife? A sharp stick? A blunt object? Anything? I'd settle for a kitchen knife," I say.

'Dan snickers.

"Uh...I've helped my mum bake," Ron says.

"I fought a basilisk with a sword," Harry volunteers.

"I've had a few fencing lessons," says the blond kid with the pointy face.

Well, at least they're not completely clueless.

"Fencing lessons?" Ron says suddenly, looking intently at the blond kid. "Isn't fencing a Muggle thing?"

The other kid shrugs. "Father wanted us to have lessons." He sneers at Ron. "Of course, someone like you wouldn't understand the finer points of physical battle."

"And that comment proves that you don't either," I say, as sharply as I can manage.

He glares at me, and opens his mouth to retaliate. "You got a name, kid?" I interrupt.

"Draco Malfoy," he snaps back.

Jesus, poor kid. I bet he was teased in school. Actually, I bet he still is. Isn't that child cruelty?

I twirl my knives through my fingers. "All right," I say again. "I'm not here to teach you how to be the world's greatest warriors. Somebody else can do that. I'm here to teach you how not to die if you're in a physical battle. I doubt it'll come up, since magic is your big thing. But by the time we're done, you'll be able to defend yourselves if the opportunity presents itself."

I crouch down, blades still in my hands. "You do not turn on your classmates, ladies and gentlemen. I realize I can't keep my eye on everybody." I use one of the blades to point over my shoulder. "That's why they're here."

"They're not scary," one kid ventures.

Ron snorts. "Oh, yes, they are," he mutters. Harry and Hermione nod furiously in agreement.

I stand back up, slowly. Not to be threatening, just to stretch my legs. Looking threatening is just a spiffy side-effect. "They're actually very scary," I tell him. "Trust me. I've SEEN them fight."

"Against you?" another kid asks. He's a darker skinned kid, standing next to Ginny in a slightly protective way. Must be Dean Thomas. Ron's mentioned him.

I point at Elladan and Elrohir. "They taught me how to fight," I tell them. "I had to learn from somebody, too."

"Figures," the blond kid sneers. "What can a girl teach us?"

I smile. I don't have to look in a mirror to know it's not a pleasant smile. "Before I landed in this Valar-forsaken backwater, I spent a year training the warriors of Gondor. You ain't seen nothing yet. When you can take me down, you're good enough to say that you don't have to listen to me. If you think you can do it now, let's go. If not, sit down, shut up, and fucking listen."

I can hear Legolas sigh. I think he's sort of given up on me ever learning patience. I know I have.

"I think I can take you," says the blond kid.

I just stare at him. Behind me, the twins burst out laughing. Malfoy sets down the bundle he was carrying. He carefully unwraps it and pulls out a beautiful sword. And I mean BEAUTIFUL. The scabbard is hand-tooled, intricate, covered in a pattern of snakes. The hilt is crafted into a snake that seems to be devouring it's own tail. The snake's eyes are dark green emeralds. It's gorgeous, if a little morbid.

He pulls it out, and the blade gleams. Behind me, Legolas swears.

Well, that gives it away. It's definitely magical.

I shrug and draw my own blades.

He looks at me, rather intently. "It's enchanted," he says shortly. "But just to be indestructable."

"He's probably lying," Ron says suddenly.

"Why?" I ask. It's a legitimate question. I have met very few people as arrogant as this kid, but when you do find them, they are always convinced that they can beat you, so they don't need to cheat.

It's only after they get a lesson in reality that they try to cheat.

He picks up the sword and holds it like he knows where the pointy end goes. I give my blades a little twirl. He bows, keeping his eyes on me. I incline my head. At least the little punk has some manners. Of course, you don't bow to your enemies in an actual battle. It's too messy to keep up with all the little niceties.

We pace around each other for a few moments, trading test-blows. It's really the only way to be sure of your enemies strengths and weaknesses. In a tournament or in training, you always trade these kinds of blows. Swing, parry, testing, testing, one, two, three.

Again, this doesn't apply to actual battle. Then you just hack and chop and pray you don't end up fighting somebody stronger than you. It happens, however. Which is why battles have things the bards don't like to contemplate. The blood and the death and the screaming of the wounded. Battle is never, ever pretty. And kids like these have concepts of great and glorious battle, heard in stories where the good guys always win and the darker aspects are never mentioned.

What they don't realize is even the good guys do some pretty horrible things in the name of their cause. Even heroes can be bastards.

Don't ask me how I know that. You really, really don't want to know. It's nothing I've participated in, or even seen, but I've heard stories that would curl you eyebrows.

Malfoy nods a little, to himself, as if he thinks he's tested out my weaknesses. Maybe he thinks he has.

He holds his sword across his body, which is a pretty good defense/attack move. He steps carefully, and I mirror him. He's starting to get irrittated. I'm staying too close for him to get in a good strike, and he knows it. He makes a quick, short thrust at my abdomen, and I sidestep easily.

Lesson number one: Patience. Your enemy usually doesn't have any, and you can use that to your advantage. Eventually, they'll get frustrated with minor thrusts and parries, and the fact that they're not doing any damage, and nine times out of ten will make a stupid mistake. Again, doesn't apply in large-scale battle most of the time.

We trade blows again, and I back off when he does, even though he has a giant, gaping hole in his defenses. He looks annoyed.

Lesson number two: Again with the patience. Let your enemy tire himself out. Usually, they will.

Two more of our little dances, and he lets out an irritated noise and charges, a bit recklessly.

Remind me to really harp on the patience.

Lesson number three: Guard all sides. If you're not watching your back, your enemy will not hesitate to put a blade in it.

But I won't do that. The pain probably wouldn't teach him anything, so I just trap his blade between mine, twist, and jerk my knee up. The blade flies out of his hands and sticks in the ground about ten feet away.

And now his hands are free to punch, claw, whatever, so I kick his feet out from underneath him, take a few steps back, and crouch down easily. I'm not worried, even if the kid pulls a wand. I have three Elves behind me who could easily take him out.

Lesson number four: Always, ALWAYS, have someone you trust behind you to guard your back. If you don't trust them, you might as well stab yourself in the back.

Why do you think I always have Legolas, Boromir, or one of the twins at my back?

"Anybody think they can tell me what he did wrong?"

The students shift around and fidget for a second. That's ok, I can wait.

Legolas --

I have never actually witnessed Kayli in the beginning stages of such training. She has wells of patience I never would have guessed at, had I not seen her here, like this. Even the twins look impressed. And a little proud, which is logical, since they trained her. Of course, I'm so proud I'm ready to explode. Now I know why my father was always boasting about my mother.

Kayli is crouched on the ground, regarding her students with the calmest eyes I've ever seen her use.

One of the students, a rather short, round child back by the nurse and Ron's brother, clears his throat nervously. "He came in too fast," he says, voice quiet and nervous.

Kayli nods and smiles. "Good, Neville. Five points."

She stands easily, and I can hear Elladan and Elrohir start whispering back and forth. She walks forward and extends her hand to the child on the ground. "You all right, Draco?"

He nods, looking sullen. He reluctantly accepts her hand and scrambles to his feet. Elladan hands him his sword, and he snatches it away without a thanks before stalking back to the class. Elladan looks back at the two of us who have remained back and grins. He crouches down not far from Kayli.

She paces back and forth, looking over the assembled students with a thoughtful look on her face. Elbereth, but she is beautiful like this.

"The first thing you have to learn is patience. Without any patience, you're dead. If you have patience, your enemy will get frustrated, and most likely do something stupid. Make a mistake. Most of the time, you can use their mistakes to your own advantage. If they don't make a mistake, they'll eventually tire themselves out, and THEN they will make mistakes, and those you can definitely use. But THAT means you have to have PATIENCE. You have to learn to wait, and pace yourselves, and not use all your strength at once."

She pauses, hands on her hips, looking back out at the rest of them. Her eyes land on the blond kid, who has his arms folded over his chest and is sulking. He reminds me a bit of me when I was very young. Impatient, arrogant, and so sure that I was superior to everyone else. My father did not put up with that for long.

Nor will Kayli put up with such arrogance for long. Especially if it gets in the way of her teaching. My beloved is NOT a patient woman.

"Anybody else wanna try?" she asks, spinning one of her daggers in her hands.

Dead silence.

She tilts her head to the side. "All right, then I guess we'll go straight to defense."

She glances back over at me. I smile at her, and she grins back.

"Disgusting," mutters the blond kid.

Kayli ignores him. "One thing I have to make absolutely clear. The blades are wooden. They will remain that way until I say that you're ready to use something with an edge. After this, Mr. Malfoy, that blade stays put away. If I bust any of you using any of these weapons, edged or otherwise, against your classmates in anything other than a training capacity, you will no longer be in this class and I will make every single one of your previous detentions look like a fucking cakewalk. Got it?"

"You can't do that," snaps a scrawny boy standing next to Malfoy.

I can't see Kayli's smile, but I bet it's unpleasant. "Wanna bet? Dumbledore gave me permission to punish my students however I see fit. This doesn't mean I'm going to break out the thumbscrews and the rack. This means work. Hard work. And a lot of it. If I thought I could get you expelled for attacking a fellow student, I'd do it."

"You wouldn't," gasps a girl.

"Yes, she would," Harry says.

"Uh-huh," says Ron.

"Definitely," says Neville.

"And she'd be right to," adds Hermione, in that irritating, all-knowing way she has.

There's another long moment of silence, Kayli perfectly willing to let them stew over this for a while.

"So the beginning of this class will be demonstrations, right?" one asks.

She nods. "What's your name?"

"Uh...Ernie Macmillian. Hufflepuff."

THAT is a ridiculous name.

"Yeah, the first part will be demonstrations. Then you'll move out into your own pairs. And no mixed Houses."

With that, she turns to Elladan and gestures him forward.

That went relatively well, I think. My classes start tomorrow. Here's hoping they go as smoothly.

TBC...