[Author's Note: So I decided that from now on I'm going to put link to music that helps me into mood as I write every chapter. Feel free to listen to them as you read on. Let me know what you think! Happy Reading]
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For those who believe in resurrection, death is inconsequential. It’s not an ending but rather a new beginning. A second chance, a reunion. The very idea of resurrection is so seductive a concept it’s easy to forget, before you can rise from the dead you have to spend a few days in hell.
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[THIRD PERSON’S POV]
Flashes of images, memories, flooded over her mind all at once, hitting her hard. They were as oppressive as the way the Rohan soldier’s blade clashed against her own.
Along with them, emerged the demon–the ghost of the past that her companions had tried to lock deep inside her memory to be forgotten. They thought they had kept it safe, hidden. They thought they had thrown away the key.
They didn’t.
She found the key. Through violence. Anger. The need to survive. To fight back.
A surge of hate thundered inside her. Not necessarily because of the buff man who relentlessly raining down blow after blow against her. But that hatred did give her more than enough power to push back against her opponent. Fiercer this time.
The change in Anastasia’s eyes didn’t escape David. If anything, the way she fought him back was an indication. She wasn’t that clueless, awkward Anastasia as she was three minutes ago when he gave her the blunt, training sword.
It was Sara.
“Not bad,” he said with a grin, but soon it disappeared from his face as he was forced to attempt last minute maneuver to block the blonde’s sudden attack. He sidestepped, for a fraction of second noticing the darkness in her eyes; one that made his blood run cold.
Now fully aware that she had begun to remember something–or at least how to wield a sword, David didn’t go easy on her anymore. He gave his all, knowing that she too, gave her all. Both man and woman fought each other fiercely, too absorbed with the need to have the upper hand over the other to even care that a crowd had began to gather to watch them.
Most soldiers that had been training at the same ground that morning had now abandoned their own exercise to watch. From the balcony, up on the white tower, the royal family and their guests also had their attention towards the two.
King Aragorn and Legolas Thranduilion shared a wary, anxious glances with each other.
“Pray, tell, lads,” mumbled Gimli through his beard, “Did the lass already know how to wield a sword before she was sent here by the witch?”
“Nay,” answered Legolas, his expression a mixture of concern and wariness.
“Then how does she know how to fight like that?” butted in Thranduil from behind them.
The elf king was casually lifting up his cup of tea. Long, graceful fingers slowly stirring the amber nectar before he took a sip on it. He sat on one of the comfortable couch across Lord Elrond, looking as if he didn’t care much about such a trivial thing. He didn’t even look at the event that had captured the trio’s attention.
“Even when her mind have lost her memory, her body still remembers how to defend herself,” suggested the King of Gondor, silently offering comfort to his troubled elf friend.
“Hmph,” grunted the red headed dwarf, “Let’s hope it is the only thing that she remembers.”
“Aye,” agreed Legolas, almost in a whisper.
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Thorns & Roses (Legolas Love Story)
FanfictionLEGOLAS/OC. MOVIE VERSE. Desperate to save her father, Anastasia made a grave choice and struck a deal that eventually led her to be banished to Middle Earth. In grief, she thought all that was left of her was hatred. Revenge drove her to set on a j...
