The elleth from under the mountain

Witch craft

Ontario's P.O.V

A few days later....

I twirled the sword expertly between my finger tips, feeling more like myself then I had in a long time.

Halting the display of nimblity, I ran my fingers down the cool blade, feeling the runes etched into the metal, that curved all the way to the gemed hilt.

I pointed the blade at Kili in challenge, raising an eyebrow in question.

He smirked, sword already in hand. Not one to be out done, he too began to twirl the blade between his fingertips. His usual cockiness showing as he tried to throw the blade behind his back and catch it.

Except the skill wasn't quite there, the sword fumbling out of his grasp, clattering to the ground loudly.

"The line of Durin, ladies and gentlemen," I teased lightly. His cheeks turned beet red as he picked it off the ground, blowing some of his hair out of his face in the process.

"Set!".

Instantly Kili was upon me, sword jarring as I was forced backwards from his blow. He was quick on his feet, I'd admit, but I was quicker.

In the blink of an eye, I'd ducked under his arm as he swung high for my head. Twirling behind him, in one clean motion I swept my foot out, taking him off his feet.

Landing face first in a cloud of dust,  with a loud thud.

"That was quicker then I thought," Dwalin admitted, "I didn't want to hurt her," Kili protested rolling onto his back.

I offered him my hand, pulling him back onto his feet. "Then don't hold back," I told him, he flashed me a quick grin before darting towards me once again.

I easily side stepped him, he turned to par my strike, grunting at the awkward angle, his own blade dangerously close to his inner thigh.

"Do you not think we should intervene?" Bilbo worriedly asked, standing beside Dwalin. "Nah," the tall dwarf muttered, shaking his head. "They know what they're doing,".

Skipping backwards I gave him the courtesy of time to recover. Twirling my sword in challenge.

We exchanged blows in a flurry of sparking blades. For each step forward, I took one backwards. Lunging forwards at one another in an effort to catch each other's weak spots.

The sword Lindir had given me was heavier than my old one. It would take some time to learn how to maintain its balance. It was also almost half a foot longer, the extra length throwing me slightly.

I was used to getting closer to my 'enemy'.

Out of the corner of my eye I could see, Gandalf and Thórin having a heated conversation. Too far away for me to hear over the noise of our sparring, and the sound of the rest of the company egging us on.

Slightly distracted by the two arguing men, I underestimated Kili's arm length. Not stepping back further enough, the tip of his blade nicked the soft flesh of my shoulder.

I hissed in pain, narrowing my eyes at him.

"Not so tough now are we?" He taunted. Honestly he reminded me of a peacock at times, flaunting around like he owned the place.