Weaving a Song

Chapter 66

c. 2949 TA

Thranduil watched amused as Legolas led Estel into the sparring arena for the first time. Estel seemed to have hardly touched a blade before, which was ironic considering what Elrond expected him to be able to do. He was strong enough, he could hold the swords Legolas put in his hand well enough. Perhaps that had been the point. Elrond had made sure he was strong enough without actually showing him why.

Legolas finally went over to the sword rack and pulled out the sword he decided on. He glanced at his father and Thranduil nodded. Legolas turned back to Estel whose brow creased. "That's not an Elven blade." Estel said.

"Yes and no." Legolas answered. "It is Elvish. It was made by our people. No, it is not the traditional Elvish blade."

"Why do you want me to use that one?" Estel asked.

Little did he know the blade was about as close to the shards of Narsil as they could find. Thranduil and Legolas had figured they might as well do their job right. "Well…" Legolas said, "Because it suits you more. I should know. I have trained others before. Nor do I generally use traditional swords either, neither does my father. So you can deal with the blade I put in your hand or…"

"I get it, I get it." Estel said putting his hands in the air.

"Fine, then take it." Legolas said holding the sword out to him.

Estel took it hesitantly. Thranduil's eyes narrowed as he watched him. Estel slowly grabbed the sword by the hilt and then surprise flickered across his face. He held this sword more comfortably than he had any of the others, almost as if the style had been made for him. A slow smile worked its away across the young Estel's face and he twirled the sword once experimentally.

A more knowing smile crossed Thranduil's face, and catching it Legolas knew they were on the right track.

"Being who I am, I'll still have to make sure you can make something of yourself as an archer, but I suppose you'll make a better swordsman." Legolas said sighing over dramatically before he began the more rigorous training Legolas had set for him.

*

Estel had been in Mirkwood for four months when Legolas finally deemed him worthy to go on a patrol with them. So, the two of them mounted their horses and joined the patrol setting out for the border. "Now remember, if I say to turn and run, you turn and run." Legolas told him.

"Will anyone else turn and run?" Estel asked.

"No, but everyone here has at least three hundred years of experience on you… and more." Estel sighed.

"And your point is?"

"My point is if you get hurt your Ada will come and murder me." Legolas said. "Trust me on that." Estel was about to retort, but suddenly his father's words came to him and he quieted.

"Fine, but don't you dare tell me such a thing unless you're all going to die." Estel said begrudgingly. Legolas grinned.

"Don't worry, little nut," Legolas said using his new nickname for young Estel, "I will do my best to get you into some sort of dangerous circumstance."

"You needn't worry." Taenron said, the Captain having only newly been reinstated after the previous fiasco, "Legolas manages to get into life or death situations simply by walking."

Legolas crossed his arms. "Not true."

"Really?" Taenron joked, "Name one time you came back without running into any danger, and since you can't do that, name all the times you have come back uninjured."