Post by Admin on Jan 3, 2021 21:14:32 GMT
Author: Cassie Hughes
Summary – Some elves do not learn from past experiences. Aragorn introduces Eldarion to the best way to beat an elf in a sword fight.
Watching the two figures, both slender, one half again as tall as the other, walking from the practice targets Aragorn feels his heart swell with emotion. That these two, whom he loves so well, have become such fast friends means much.
"Eldarion, Legolas," moving forward to intercept the pair he grins as his sons face breaks into a huge smile and he rushes forwards, forgetting for the moment his companion.
"I did it ada!" The voice is still pitched high with youth and excitement. "I hit the center mark!" The youngster dances around his father, almost tripping him up in his exuberance. "Three times!"
Aragorn’s eyes look over his son's head to his longtime friend, eyebrows raised in mute question and is happy to receive the small answering nod bestowed his way in reply.
"That is excellent, ion nin," He smiles indulgently and ruffles the boys hair. "You will soon be as good as Legolas!"
"Nay, ada." Eldarion replies with a laugh. "No one could ever be as good as Legolas." He raises grey eyes, so alike to his fathers, and now filled with hero worship, up to the tall elf, stating, "Even ada is not as good as you, is he Legolas."
Tinkling, musical laughter fills the air as the archer pats his young apprentice happily on the shoulder, grinning over his tousled head at Aragorn.
"That he is not, penneth, that he is not." He winks at his longtime friend. "Unfortunately he did not have the benefit of Silvan tutelage from an early enough age and whence we met the damage had already been done." He dodges lithely out of the way from a mock punch the king aims at his arm, laughter gaily trilling out once more.
"You may be the better archer." Aragorn grins knowingly. "Yet I believe 'tis I who am the better swordsman, mellon nin." Raised eyebrows uncannily akin to those sported so frequently in the past by his adoptive father send an unspoken challenge towards the smiling elf.
"Indeed, Estel." Legolas bows his head in exaggerated assent.
“But that is unfair ada!” Eldarion exclaims with a confused frown. “Legolas does not use a sword.”
“Ah, that is because he is so bad with one, ion nin." The king turns laughing eyes upon the elf. “He is more likely to cause harm to himself with a sword than to others.”
“I do not use a sword because I have no need.” The elf rose unthinkingly to the bait. “I have my knives.” Reaching behind his head he removed the pair of long, slender blades from their scabbards with a flourish, smiling widely. “I will take these over that cumbersome weapon you wield any day mellon nin.”
“What? This one.” Aragorn said innocently his grin widening as he unsheathed his own blade slowly, turning it so the sunlight glinted off its silver length.
With a wink at Eldarion, who was almost bursting with excitement as he realized he may just be about to see one of his deepest wished fulfilled, he made a great show of bringing the tip of the sword round to point towards the center of the elf’s chest.
“Ha, mortal!”
Legolas lifted his chin defiantly, a twinkle of mischief in his bright blue eyes.
“You dare to challenge me,” he began to twirl his blades nonchalantly by his sides. “An elven prince of the great Greenwood.” He glanced at Eldarion and smiled.
“Fie on you, Elf,” The king replied as he slowly raised the tip of his sword to the hollow of Legolas’ slender throat. “Pride cometh before a fall they say.”
“That they do, Man.” Legolas responded standing firm whilst his blades suddenly swept the sword tip aside in a blur of movement. “Are you ready to fall?”
With another wink towards his son Aragorn sidestepped, twirled and brought his sword around to land a slap with the flat of the blade across the elf’s behind, causing Legolas to utter a mild silvan oath and Eldarion to giggle.
‘Tis that fair rump shall see the ground today, gwador.” Aragorn guffawed as Legolas shot him an affronted glare. “Come elf, let us to the training ground where I shall show my son the best way to bring an elven prince to his knees.”
Legolas raised one perfectly formed eyebrow in a look that bore all the marks of his father, then smiled sweetly.
“As you wish, Elessar.” Bowing formally he saluted Aragorn with his knives then laughingly turned to Eldarion.
“Come, penneth.”
He gestured for father and son to go first and patted the young prince gently on the head.
“Come see how a lowly elven prince can best a king.”
Peals of laughter surrounded the trio as they set of towards the area set aside for training. Although the war was over these past ten years, men still turned to banditry and small enclaves of orcs still hid themselves away in the higher lands, preying on the unwary and occasionally raiding small villages. There was still a need for guards and warriors, however much most people wished it could be otherwise.
If they had not known where to go the sounds of clashing metal and loud voices would have lead them on. Three of the training circles were occupied. The first held two men instantly recognizable as palace guards by the black jerkins they wore, emblazoned with the white tree. The second a pair of youths Aragorn judged only just old enough to be considered for training, whilst in the third were two burly, bare chested men who looked like small mountains to Eldarion.
As they approached one of the huge men rushed at the other, gripped him tightly around the chest lifted him off the ground and began to squeeze until the veins stood out like ropes upon his arms. A strangled cry forced its way from between lips turning purple and immediately the hold was loosed and the first man slumped to his knees wheezing in an effort to draw breath into his lungs. A cheer went up from the men who had been watching the bout and the standing man bowed to them before helping his combatant to his feet and slapping him on the back. Both men left the circle with their arms around each other’s shoulders, chatting amicably about their moves as a tall, dark haired figure on the sidelines nodded appreciatively. It was one of the two Generals’ orders that no one entered or left the circle in anger and this was upheld vigorously for the most part, with only the occasional intervention of one of the pair of brothers who held the role. Their prowess in any and all forms of combat was enough to make even the most intractable blanch with fear at the prospect of taking them on.
“Aragorn, Legolas, pen neth.”
Elladan walked across the circle from where he had been keeping an eye on the wrestling pair to greet the trio.
“Come to see how your latest recruits are doing, brother.”
With a smile the twin nodded to the king and indicated the youths that were presently watching each other warily, standing still and clutching thick wooden swords in their nervous hands.
“You have not given us enough time yet, Estel.” He continued humorously as they slowly walked closer to the circle. “They are still working out which end goes into their opponent.”
This last was said as the smaller of the two made a lunge towards the other, slipped, fumbled with his sword and suddenly found himself holding the tip and waving the handle at his opponent.
“Oi, Ned!” A captain called out from the sidelines. “The other end boy, you hold it by the other end!”
Nervous laughter rippled around the edges of the circle from the small group watching and waiting for their turn as the youth now at the center of attention blushed bright red and clumsily changed his grip.
“That’s right boy!” The captain called again. “The pointy end goes in your opponent.”
As the two faced up to each other again Aragorn turned away, he had no wish to embarrass the young man more by letting him know that his mistake had been witnessed by his king.
“He has not seen you, mellon.” The low whisper accompanying the slender arm that snaked around Aragorn’s shoulders showed that Legolas was quick, as ever, to understand as he began to lead his friend away from the circle. “I believe that circle is free.” He continued in a slightly louder voice and pointed to an area on the opposite side of the grounds beyond where the two royal guards were just bowing to each other and sheathing their swords
“So what brings you three down here on this fine spring morn?” Elladan enquired as they all walked across the open space.
“Ada and Legolas are going to fight.” Piped up Eldarion enthusiastically. “Each other.” He added for emphasis.
“Are they now?” The dark haired elf chuckled softly. “I have not seen that for a while.” He raised his eyebrows at the two friends.
“Yes, uncle ’Dan. With their sword and knives.”
The young prince was dancing around the adults as they went.
“Ada is going to show Legolas’ ‘fine rump’ the floor and Legolas is going to show me how to best a king.” He grinned then frowned and looked up at his father.
“What is a ‘fine rump’ ada?” He said guilelessly and Legolas’ eyes twinkled with mirth.
“Aye, Estel.” He smiled wickedly. “Is my rump very fine?”
Aragorn tried to turn a laugh into a cough, choking in the process.
“I think you should ask your mother,” he managed.
“Or uncle Gimli.” Elladan grinned mischievously.
“Yes, well.” Legolas quickly broke in as they walked over the line of fine, white pebbles that marked the edge of a large training circle. “I think actions speak louder than words.”
He was treated to identical Elrondesque expressions as Aragorn and Elladan raised their eyebrows then smirked and he turned away with an exasperated sigh, shrugging his gear from his back and removing his outer tunic before placing them all on the ground beyond the pebbles. Bending over he then removed his knives from their scabbards with a flourish and turned back to face the king.
“Tol, Estel. Let us spar.”
Aragorn discarded his own dark tunic before unsheathing his sword slowly, scraping the blade across the hard, metaled rim of the leather scabbard, causing it to sing out as if in challenge.
“Are you sure about this Elf?” He asked sweetly as the pair began to circle each other. “Remember the last time we did this.” He grinned.
Elladan grabbed Eldarion by the arm and pulled him from the arena as the two combatants touched blades briefly then continued to circle, unaware of the small group of spectators that began to gather as those others on the training ground realized what was happening.
“What happened last time?” The young prince whispered to his elven uncle without taking his eyes from the pair before him as they came together, then parted nimbly, each initially assessing the others style.
“Your ada won.” Elladan replied with a smile.
“Only because he cheated!” Legolas called as he lunged than spun out of the way of Aragorn’s sword with effortless ease.
“Did not.” Aragorn shot back as he parried the pair of blades over his head then ducked and rolled behind the wood elf, his blade ready to slash at the back of his knees, only to find Legolas had leapt up to somersault over his head and out of the way.
A gasp and a smattering of applause from the onlookers accompanied the move.
“’twas not my fault you tripped over your own feet.” The man laughed.
“’twas you that distracted me.” Legolas replied as they began to circle one another once more before coming together in a rapid series of twists and turns, their blades a blur and singing out wildly with each contact.
“All is fair in love and war, mellon nin.”
Aragorn’s sword now flashed towards the elf’s throat, only to be met and held by a pair of slender blades that moved like lightening as, on the sidelines, Eldarion gasped out loud enjoying the much anticipated spectacle.
“May I remind you we were not then at war.” Legolas responded as he flicked the blade of the sword away and stepped sideways out of the longer blades reach.
“We were not in love either mellon nin, but that did not stop me from doing this.”
To the amazement of all present the man spun on his heel, swung his blade in a feint to the right, forcing Legolas to move in to intercept, reached out with his left hand, grabbed a fistful of the elf’s silk shirt, pulled him close, planted a swift, chaste kiss upon his lips then pushed him away all in one fluid motion. The crowd gasped and silence fell.
Legolas uttered an indignant squeak, stumbled, then tripped over, falling to the ground in a flustered, inelegant heap, dropping his knives as he went, whence Aragorn stepped forward and in a flash had the tip of his sword against the elf’s chest, right over his heart.
“You!” Legolas exclaimed as he grabbed the blade of Aragorn’s sword and thrust it from his chest. “You cheated,” he glared up at the man who had begun to laugh above him. “Again!”
“And you fell for it,” the king managed to choke out. “Again.”
“He is right, mellon.” Elladan chimed in through lips forced shut in an effort not to show his own mirth as he and a gleeful looking Eldarion walked up to the pair. “You should know by now.”
“Yes, yes,” Legolas agreed, his own frosty façade beginning to crack. “All’s fair…”
“…in love and war.”
Laughter filled the air as the three adults finished the sentence together and Aragorn and Elladan slumped to the floor beside their fallen friend their laughter subsiding into wide grins. The onlookers began to disperse chattering excitedly about the match and wondering at strangeness of elves and Kings.
“You never learn.”
“You never change”
King and woodland prince spoke simultaneously and this set them all off into peals of laughter again, this time with the added addition of Eldarion’s high pitched giggle.
“You did cheat though Ada.” The child squeaked from behind his fingers before sitting down in his lap. “You kissed him!” His face crinkled with distaste. “Eugh!”
“That I did, ion nin, that I did.” Aragorn reached out and ruffled his son’s hair. “But best not tell your mother that. Hmm?”
“Nor your uncle Gimli.” Elladan added with a wink.
This set them all off again and for a while the sound of their laughter drowned out the dull crack of wood on wood as the young recruits slowly resumed their places within their own practice circles now they were certain that the interesting display was over.
Tol = Sindarin for Come
Summary – Some elves do not learn from past experiences. Aragorn introduces Eldarion to the best way to beat an elf in a sword fight.
Watching the two figures, both slender, one half again as tall as the other, walking from the practice targets Aragorn feels his heart swell with emotion. That these two, whom he loves so well, have become such fast friends means much.
"Eldarion, Legolas," moving forward to intercept the pair he grins as his sons face breaks into a huge smile and he rushes forwards, forgetting for the moment his companion.
"I did it ada!" The voice is still pitched high with youth and excitement. "I hit the center mark!" The youngster dances around his father, almost tripping him up in his exuberance. "Three times!"
Aragorn’s eyes look over his son's head to his longtime friend, eyebrows raised in mute question and is happy to receive the small answering nod bestowed his way in reply.
"That is excellent, ion nin," He smiles indulgently and ruffles the boys hair. "You will soon be as good as Legolas!"
"Nay, ada." Eldarion replies with a laugh. "No one could ever be as good as Legolas." He raises grey eyes, so alike to his fathers, and now filled with hero worship, up to the tall elf, stating, "Even ada is not as good as you, is he Legolas."
Tinkling, musical laughter fills the air as the archer pats his young apprentice happily on the shoulder, grinning over his tousled head at Aragorn.
"That he is not, penneth, that he is not." He winks at his longtime friend. "Unfortunately he did not have the benefit of Silvan tutelage from an early enough age and whence we met the damage had already been done." He dodges lithely out of the way from a mock punch the king aims at his arm, laughter gaily trilling out once more.
"You may be the better archer." Aragorn grins knowingly. "Yet I believe 'tis I who am the better swordsman, mellon nin." Raised eyebrows uncannily akin to those sported so frequently in the past by his adoptive father send an unspoken challenge towards the smiling elf.
"Indeed, Estel." Legolas bows his head in exaggerated assent.
“But that is unfair ada!” Eldarion exclaims with a confused frown. “Legolas does not use a sword.”
“Ah, that is because he is so bad with one, ion nin." The king turns laughing eyes upon the elf. “He is more likely to cause harm to himself with a sword than to others.”
“I do not use a sword because I have no need.” The elf rose unthinkingly to the bait. “I have my knives.” Reaching behind his head he removed the pair of long, slender blades from their scabbards with a flourish, smiling widely. “I will take these over that cumbersome weapon you wield any day mellon nin.”
“What? This one.” Aragorn said innocently his grin widening as he unsheathed his own blade slowly, turning it so the sunlight glinted off its silver length.
With a wink at Eldarion, who was almost bursting with excitement as he realized he may just be about to see one of his deepest wished fulfilled, he made a great show of bringing the tip of the sword round to point towards the center of the elf’s chest.
“Ha, mortal!”
Legolas lifted his chin defiantly, a twinkle of mischief in his bright blue eyes.
“You dare to challenge me,” he began to twirl his blades nonchalantly by his sides. “An elven prince of the great Greenwood.” He glanced at Eldarion and smiled.
“Fie on you, Elf,” The king replied as he slowly raised the tip of his sword to the hollow of Legolas’ slender throat. “Pride cometh before a fall they say.”
“That they do, Man.” Legolas responded standing firm whilst his blades suddenly swept the sword tip aside in a blur of movement. “Are you ready to fall?”
With another wink towards his son Aragorn sidestepped, twirled and brought his sword around to land a slap with the flat of the blade across the elf’s behind, causing Legolas to utter a mild silvan oath and Eldarion to giggle.
‘Tis that fair rump shall see the ground today, gwador.” Aragorn guffawed as Legolas shot him an affronted glare. “Come elf, let us to the training ground where I shall show my son the best way to bring an elven prince to his knees.”
Legolas raised one perfectly formed eyebrow in a look that bore all the marks of his father, then smiled sweetly.
“As you wish, Elessar.” Bowing formally he saluted Aragorn with his knives then laughingly turned to Eldarion.
“Come, penneth.”
He gestured for father and son to go first and patted the young prince gently on the head.
“Come see how a lowly elven prince can best a king.”
Peals of laughter surrounded the trio as they set of towards the area set aside for training. Although the war was over these past ten years, men still turned to banditry and small enclaves of orcs still hid themselves away in the higher lands, preying on the unwary and occasionally raiding small villages. There was still a need for guards and warriors, however much most people wished it could be otherwise.
If they had not known where to go the sounds of clashing metal and loud voices would have lead them on. Three of the training circles were occupied. The first held two men instantly recognizable as palace guards by the black jerkins they wore, emblazoned with the white tree. The second a pair of youths Aragorn judged only just old enough to be considered for training, whilst in the third were two burly, bare chested men who looked like small mountains to Eldarion.
As they approached one of the huge men rushed at the other, gripped him tightly around the chest lifted him off the ground and began to squeeze until the veins stood out like ropes upon his arms. A strangled cry forced its way from between lips turning purple and immediately the hold was loosed and the first man slumped to his knees wheezing in an effort to draw breath into his lungs. A cheer went up from the men who had been watching the bout and the standing man bowed to them before helping his combatant to his feet and slapping him on the back. Both men left the circle with their arms around each other’s shoulders, chatting amicably about their moves as a tall, dark haired figure on the sidelines nodded appreciatively. It was one of the two Generals’ orders that no one entered or left the circle in anger and this was upheld vigorously for the most part, with only the occasional intervention of one of the pair of brothers who held the role. Their prowess in any and all forms of combat was enough to make even the most intractable blanch with fear at the prospect of taking them on.
“Aragorn, Legolas, pen neth.”
Elladan walked across the circle from where he had been keeping an eye on the wrestling pair to greet the trio.
“Come to see how your latest recruits are doing, brother.”
With a smile the twin nodded to the king and indicated the youths that were presently watching each other warily, standing still and clutching thick wooden swords in their nervous hands.
“You have not given us enough time yet, Estel.” He continued humorously as they slowly walked closer to the circle. “They are still working out which end goes into their opponent.”
This last was said as the smaller of the two made a lunge towards the other, slipped, fumbled with his sword and suddenly found himself holding the tip and waving the handle at his opponent.
“Oi, Ned!” A captain called out from the sidelines. “The other end boy, you hold it by the other end!”
Nervous laughter rippled around the edges of the circle from the small group watching and waiting for their turn as the youth now at the center of attention blushed bright red and clumsily changed his grip.
“That’s right boy!” The captain called again. “The pointy end goes in your opponent.”
As the two faced up to each other again Aragorn turned away, he had no wish to embarrass the young man more by letting him know that his mistake had been witnessed by his king.
“He has not seen you, mellon.” The low whisper accompanying the slender arm that snaked around Aragorn’s shoulders showed that Legolas was quick, as ever, to understand as he began to lead his friend away from the circle. “I believe that circle is free.” He continued in a slightly louder voice and pointed to an area on the opposite side of the grounds beyond where the two royal guards were just bowing to each other and sheathing their swords
“So what brings you three down here on this fine spring morn?” Elladan enquired as they all walked across the open space.
“Ada and Legolas are going to fight.” Piped up Eldarion enthusiastically. “Each other.” He added for emphasis.
“Are they now?” The dark haired elf chuckled softly. “I have not seen that for a while.” He raised his eyebrows at the two friends.
“Yes, uncle ’Dan. With their sword and knives.”
The young prince was dancing around the adults as they went.
“Ada is going to show Legolas’ ‘fine rump’ the floor and Legolas is going to show me how to best a king.” He grinned then frowned and looked up at his father.
“What is a ‘fine rump’ ada?” He said guilelessly and Legolas’ eyes twinkled with mirth.
“Aye, Estel.” He smiled wickedly. “Is my rump very fine?”
Aragorn tried to turn a laugh into a cough, choking in the process.
“I think you should ask your mother,” he managed.
“Or uncle Gimli.” Elladan grinned mischievously.
“Yes, well.” Legolas quickly broke in as they walked over the line of fine, white pebbles that marked the edge of a large training circle. “I think actions speak louder than words.”
He was treated to identical Elrondesque expressions as Aragorn and Elladan raised their eyebrows then smirked and he turned away with an exasperated sigh, shrugging his gear from his back and removing his outer tunic before placing them all on the ground beyond the pebbles. Bending over he then removed his knives from their scabbards with a flourish and turned back to face the king.
“Tol, Estel. Let us spar.”
Aragorn discarded his own dark tunic before unsheathing his sword slowly, scraping the blade across the hard, metaled rim of the leather scabbard, causing it to sing out as if in challenge.
“Are you sure about this Elf?” He asked sweetly as the pair began to circle each other. “Remember the last time we did this.” He grinned.
Elladan grabbed Eldarion by the arm and pulled him from the arena as the two combatants touched blades briefly then continued to circle, unaware of the small group of spectators that began to gather as those others on the training ground realized what was happening.
“What happened last time?” The young prince whispered to his elven uncle without taking his eyes from the pair before him as they came together, then parted nimbly, each initially assessing the others style.
“Your ada won.” Elladan replied with a smile.
“Only because he cheated!” Legolas called as he lunged than spun out of the way of Aragorn’s sword with effortless ease.
“Did not.” Aragorn shot back as he parried the pair of blades over his head then ducked and rolled behind the wood elf, his blade ready to slash at the back of his knees, only to find Legolas had leapt up to somersault over his head and out of the way.
A gasp and a smattering of applause from the onlookers accompanied the move.
“’twas not my fault you tripped over your own feet.” The man laughed.
“’twas you that distracted me.” Legolas replied as they began to circle one another once more before coming together in a rapid series of twists and turns, their blades a blur and singing out wildly with each contact.
“All is fair in love and war, mellon nin.”
Aragorn’s sword now flashed towards the elf’s throat, only to be met and held by a pair of slender blades that moved like lightening as, on the sidelines, Eldarion gasped out loud enjoying the much anticipated spectacle.
“May I remind you we were not then at war.” Legolas responded as he flicked the blade of the sword away and stepped sideways out of the longer blades reach.
“We were not in love either mellon nin, but that did not stop me from doing this.”
To the amazement of all present the man spun on his heel, swung his blade in a feint to the right, forcing Legolas to move in to intercept, reached out with his left hand, grabbed a fistful of the elf’s silk shirt, pulled him close, planted a swift, chaste kiss upon his lips then pushed him away all in one fluid motion. The crowd gasped and silence fell.
Legolas uttered an indignant squeak, stumbled, then tripped over, falling to the ground in a flustered, inelegant heap, dropping his knives as he went, whence Aragorn stepped forward and in a flash had the tip of his sword against the elf’s chest, right over his heart.
“You!” Legolas exclaimed as he grabbed the blade of Aragorn’s sword and thrust it from his chest. “You cheated,” he glared up at the man who had begun to laugh above him. “Again!”
“And you fell for it,” the king managed to choke out. “Again.”
“He is right, mellon.” Elladan chimed in through lips forced shut in an effort not to show his own mirth as he and a gleeful looking Eldarion walked up to the pair. “You should know by now.”
“Yes, yes,” Legolas agreed, his own frosty façade beginning to crack. “All’s fair…”
“…in love and war.”
Laughter filled the air as the three adults finished the sentence together and Aragorn and Elladan slumped to the floor beside their fallen friend their laughter subsiding into wide grins. The onlookers began to disperse chattering excitedly about the match and wondering at strangeness of elves and Kings.
“You never learn.”
“You never change”
King and woodland prince spoke simultaneously and this set them all off into peals of laughter again, this time with the added addition of Eldarion’s high pitched giggle.
“You did cheat though Ada.” The child squeaked from behind his fingers before sitting down in his lap. “You kissed him!” His face crinkled with distaste. “Eugh!”
“That I did, ion nin, that I did.” Aragorn reached out and ruffled his son’s hair. “But best not tell your mother that. Hmm?”
“Nor your uncle Gimli.” Elladan added with a wink.
This set them all off again and for a while the sound of their laughter drowned out the dull crack of wood on wood as the young recruits slowly resumed their places within their own practice circles now they were certain that the interesting display was over.
Tol = Sindarin for Come