How did it come to this?
Loyal to her family, her lands and her people, Théadain, the illegitimate daughter of Théoden, King of Rohan, has little concern for the world that lies beyond her familiar grasslands. When all that she loves is threatened...
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Chapter 10
Théadain's cry of frustration echoed off the surrounding trees as she was thrown onto her back, the wooden sparring sword in her hand hitting the dusty ground with a clatter. Loose strands of her tied-back hair stuck to the nape of her neck as she hauled herself to her feet, her shirt damp with sweat, though it was a cool day.
"Again, Elrohir." She growled.
The past few mornings had been spent sparring with the twins, and occasionally Legolas, in a clearing nestled in a quiet patch of woodland, far enough away from the main buildings of Rivendell that the sound of sparring would not disturb the elves.
"You are distracted today." The brunette commented as he twirled his sword in his hands.
"I am frustrated." She sighed, rubbing a palm over her collarbone where she had taken a heavy knock, "I fear I have scoured every relevant book in the tongue of men that your father owns, and still I am no closer to finding the answers I seek."
"Then use your frustration, channel it, do not strike out at me blindly." He murmured, readying himself as she snorted.
"You think I do not say the same thing to the young men I train?" She smiled wryly, "I know, Elrohir, and you know I do not need schooled on the details of combat, can we not just let these mornings be a release?"
"I just hate to see you lose so often." He chuckled, stepping forward to lay his first blow, and the sound of wood-on-wood rang out through the clearing once more as she blocked it. The sounds continued, his sword sweeping and arcing elegantly in that particular elven style she could never have mastered. Her motions were more practical, direct. The ones her father had taught her with her first wooden sword in the Golden Hall, as soon as she was old enough to hold one. She gritted her teeth as they locked weapons once more. He was fast, and she rarely landed a blow on his body – likewise, he struggled to make contact with her, the only times he could land a blow were the moments when her human body made some small error, or was just that little bit slower. Still, all she sought was the opportunity to hit something to release the anxious, frustrated energy that crackled under her skin. If she could not hit Elrohir directly, she would settle for his sword.
It was with another crash of wood that her blade met his again, her fiery eyes locking with his measured gaze as she used a calculated flick of her blade the knock the sword from his hand.
"Better." He laughed, shaking his hand where her hilt had caught it. She smiled and bent to retrieve the sword for him, handing it over with as her breath came in pants after the effort of the fight.
"I should be returning to my work – do you think your father will have time to speak with me today?" She murmured, seeing the way his expression changed to one of sympathy, "I know he is still preoccupied with this council of his, but I fear there is little more I can do for my father in Rivendell. It may be time for me to return home soon."
