Anariel of Erudin: Valmoria's Wrath | Lord of the Rings

10. Hitting the Mark

The rest of the road down the Misty Mountains was quite pleasant compared to yesterday's travel. The air was cold but gentle, the wind blowing no harder than a soft breeze, just enough to nip at my eyelids when they started to fall. I was very tired, but it was fairly easy to stay awake between the twins' loud arguing and the constant fear of being stabbed by Turin's flying sword. At one point, he nearly nicked my arm while trying to perform some trick. To prove the dangers of his carelessness, I snatched the sword right from his hand and started swinging it wildly in front of his face, just narrowly missing the tip of his nose.

"Stop it, Ana! That's not a toy, you know!"

"Then quit playing with it!" I shouted, shoving the end of the hilt into his chest. "Keep it sheathed until you really need it."

"But I need to practice."

"So practice with one of the twins when we stop to rest."

To me, it sounded like a great idea. Turin would be able to improve his swordsmanship, and the twins would have to stop arguing about Elrohir's official axe retrieval time, an argument that should've ended a long time ago, but neither elf wanted to submit. The twins, having heard my comment, stopped their bickering for a moment to address my proposal.

"I wouldn't mind training him," Elrohir said. "I've always wanted a pupil to take under my wing."

"I wish to be nowhere near your wing," Turin replied fiercely, "but I want to learn, so I suppose you'll have to do."

"Excellent!" I said, clapping my hands together. "It's settled, then."

Elrohir brought his hand up and interjected, "I'll train him only if Elladan accepts my official time of three minutes and forty-eight seconds."

"I accept," Elladan replied quickly. "Now, let us be done with this."

Despite the rough start, it seemed like our fellowship was finally starting to come together. Whatever hostilities Turin had toward the twins were brushed aside to make room for the, as Elrohir had coined, "clean slate." But as I walked on, watching Legolas from behind, I remembered that I had my own slate to clean, though I would've preferred it to remain filthy. While my anger toward him was completely justifiable, I still felt like I was largely to blame for the goblin incident. If I hadn't chased that creature down the tunnel, I wouldn't have alerted the goblins with all my screaming. A proper lady knew when to admit she was wrong, and if I was such a lady, I would have marched over to Legolas, apologized for my behavior, and begged for his forgiveness, as was just and proper.

Well, Mother had always said I wasn't a very proper lady, so there was no point in acting like one now!

I shook my head. No, that wasn't right. I had to apologize because I didn't want any tension within the fellowship. I wanted ours to be just like the Fellowship of the Ring, with bonds so strong, they could withstand anything, so for that sake, I began to approach the elf while preparing my apology.

Honestly, I wasn't very good at apologies, especially when I didn't feel they were rightly earned. He should've been apologizing to me. After all, he was the one who joined the fellowship completely uninvited and then started barking orders at everyone. And then to speak to me so rudely, the nerve of that elf! Why, he acted like he was royalty, and I was just one of his subjects. I was of noble birth! ... perhaps not as noble as others, but noble enough to deserve the respect of some hunter-elf!

I'd worked myself up so much that I didn't even want to apologize anymore, but just as I was about to back away, I heard Legolas's voice in my ear, asking, "Do you wish to speak to me?"

"No," I answered, "it's nothing."

"How are your wounds?" he went on, slowing his pace so that I could walk alongside him.