Sword and Arrow

Chapter 5

Morning found Beruthiel hurrying through Rivendell, shoulder-length hair fluttering in the cool breeze. She inhaled deeply, the scent of new rain was in the air. A full quiver at her belt and a bow from Rivendell's armory in her hand, she was headed towards the archery range to practice.

One and a half weeks had gone by since the Council of Elrond, since the day she had pledged to protect a halfling she barely knew. Since then, she hadn't seen most of the members of the Fellowship- just some polite words with Boromir during meals or bumping into Legolas while practicing archery- that elf never practiced when she did, so it was either when one was leaving and the other was arriving, or vice versa.

Unsurprisingly, when she reached the archery range, Legolas was already there. She never did understand how that storming elf got up so early. Ignoring him, she strung her borrowed bow- her own one had been shattered by a Warg a few months ago, and she had been too busy to make a new one.

"I've never seen you practicing," Legolas called over to her as he retrieved his arrows from the varied targets. Ten out of ten, of course. "How good are you?"

"Ranger good," Beruthiel answered, making sure her wrist cuff was in place. She dug the gauntlet with reinforced fingertips out of her satchel, put it on her right hand, and tossed the satchel away.

"Show me," the elf said, nodding towards the targets. "Ten shafts?"

Beruthiel nodded back. "Ten shafts." She took a deep breath, an arrow in her hand and another four dangling from her bow hand. Then she rapidly shot the four shafts, not seeming to aim, before moving on to the other five on her belt, shooting each into a different target- the range had various targets at different distances and levels.

Legolas whistled. "Damn, but you're good," he said as she stepped forward to retrieve them, pinching each just under the arrowhead. "Never seen a human shoot like that." Beruthiel tipped her head in thanks.

"All Rangers can shoot like that, you know," she said. He shrugged.

"I'm not used to mortals shooting that well. No offense," he said after a pause. "Aragorn always preferred the sword."

"Yes, he's stubborn that way," Beruthiel agreed. Speaking of which, she hadn't seen him since the Council, only at meals, and even then, he ate quickly and left early. She wondered what was up. Most likely he was going out with Elladan and Elrohir, but she wondered why he hadn't told her. They certainly needed all the help they could get.

Legolas snorted in amusement. "You Rangers use knives too, right?"

Beruthiel nodded. "We prefer the bow, but knives too." She took both the saxe and the throwing knife out of their scabbard. The saxe was a long knife, made of hardened, bluish steel. The hilt was formed of leather cylinders stacked on each other. The throwing knife was shorter, with the same brass-and-leather hilt.

"These are good,"  Legolas said, nodding. "Elvish steel?"

"Hardest you'll find east of Valinor," Beruthiel agreed. "It'll notch any sword."

"My knives are better," Legolas said, handing hers back with a smile. Beruthiel rolled her eyes.

"They look like they're made of bone," she said, peering at the knives in their scabbard on his back.

"They are," he told her. "Dragon bone."

Beruthiel whistled. "Damn." She thought for a moment. "Smaug or Scatha?"

He shook his head. "Glaurung."

Beruthiel's eyes widened. "Damn. How did you get them?"