The King's Daughter

Chapter 7

FINALLY!!!!!!! i am SSSOOOOOOOOO sorry, words can not express... but hey!! please dont hate me.... and if you have read Being A Fighter.. then you know of Shadow, the assassain. Well, me and my warped mind of mine, i have decided to write a story of her own... so please check it out. and enjoy!!!          

Cheers!!   --Wyntre

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The sun had set and raised again since Denali last spoke to . . . him. She dare not speak his name, not until he came to her.

Denali was in a hidden grove, surrounded by willow trees that created an enclosed wall. She had stumbled upon it by accident; however, Denali had privacy, which is all that mattered.

She had brought her daggers (well, short-swords), and her oak-wood bow. She was standing with a blindfold on her eyes and her swords grasped loosely in her hands. She imagined that many enemies surrounded her, much how she was in Moria. She tried to clear her mind, but no avail. Denali sighed and spun the blades around. She set them down beside her bow, and then took off the blindfold. The sun warmed her face as the wind breathed softly through her hair.

“I could stay here forever and not have a care about anything in the world.” Denali spoke aloud to herself.

She smiled softly and bent to pick up her bow. She ran a hand across the length of the bow. Aragorn had helped her make it when she was only ten. Her mother had disapproved, saying that Denali was a woman and should not have knowledge of such weapons. She remembered that day with a sad heart.

“Aragorn, I do not want her to learn such skills. It is dangerous—“

“This is coming from the same woman who defended herself from a pack ring wraths.” Aragorn replied calmly.

Arwen sighed in defeat. She and Aragorn had been going at this for hours, and no matter what she said, he always found a way to turn it back on her.

Arwen sunk into a nearby chair as Aragorn approached. He knelt down in front of her and held her hands.

“Arwen, I am only teaching her how to defend herself when we cannot. There is no harm in that.”

Arwen looked into her husband’s eyes. He was growing old while she stayed young.

“I know, my love. I just don’t want to lose her.” Arwen spoke with tears in her eyes.

Denali was sitting on the other side of the wall and heard the whole conversation. A single tear fell down her face as she let out the breath that she was holding. She shook her head vigorously, and pulled out an arrow from her quiver.

Aiming an arrow at a makeshift target, Denali tried to concentrate, but no matter how many arrows she let loose, she could not hit the target. Her mind was wandering, not able to settle.

“You are thinking too hard, Denali, you need to relax.” A calm, smooth voice said suddenly.

Denali cursed. She turned around, arrow pulled back; ready to find its target.

It was aimed at Legolas’ chest.

He did not even flinch.

He simply looked down at the arrow that was almost touching his chest. Then he raised his hand and gently pushed away the arrow off to the side.

“I was going to apologize, but now, I don’t seem quite sure.” Legolas looked up again.

Denali slowly relaxed her grip on the bow and arrow, for she still had the arrow pulled back, almost to the point that it was about to break. She did not, however, let her eyes leave his gaze.