The Prince's Pretend Mother

First Archery Practice

"What does your instructor say?" I asked Legolas as he struggled to fully draw the bowstring back yet again. Learning archery was giving him more irritation than he had originally planned, and I was still trying to talk him out of quitting. All fighters needed at least a rudimentary skill in archery, I repeatedly reminded him, and if he did not begin now it would be harder for him to learn it later.

Legolas grimaced, easing the string back to its straight position, already having been broken of the habit of releasing an unloaded bowstring. "She says the point is not to be able to do it properly to start with."

I sat not far to his left in the drying summer moss, fixing the embroidery in one of his fancier tunics. "She is not setting you up for failure, Legolas. She is building up the strength in your back and your arms so when you are able to properly aim a bow you will be drawing it properly. It's so you don't hurt yourself getting distracted by the attempt to hit the target."

He heavily sighed, shaking hair out of his face. He had only two arrows with him, borrowed with permission from his instructor. They had only small, slightly pointed metal tips, meant only for target practice rather than causing actual damage. We had already written his name near the fletching so if he lost them in the forest and someone else found them, they would know to whom to return them. These arrows had been repainted more than once near the fletching.

"Darling, when you were learning to walk, after falling down the eightieth time did you decide you did not truly wish to walk if it was this hard?"

He shot me a dark look, though on his young face the darkest he could get was really more gray, and set to heaving the bowstring back again. "May I try it with arrows yet?" he wanted to know.

His instructor had permitted us to take them because she rightfully believed that Legolas would better maintain his dedication if given the opportunity to at least clumsily shoot things. "That is for you to determine," I reminded him, hiding the majority of my amusement for his sake. "Can you draw the bowstring back far enough to propel the arrow yet?"

He showed me what he had accomplished, grimacing. "I can't pull it back all the way, but most of the way. Do you think that's far enough?"

I nodded. "It's a good start."

He delicately lifted one arrow, as though it would disintegrate if handled too informally, and used two hands to nock it firmly against the string. He had to jiggle the bow to get the arrow to swing against it, then pinned the arrow's throat to the bow with one finger. Remembering my own son's disappointment with the amount of effort required for skill, I bit my lips together so he wouldn't hear me laugh.

Legolas slowly heaved the taut string back, aiming for a snarled bush that would do a fine job of stopping anything attempting to pass through it, and released the bowstring with a huff of air. The arrow wobbled off to skid through the moss and roots, not quite reaching the bush. He scowled.

"Did you expect to be wonderful the first week?" I wanted to know. "You should have seen me the first time I tried ice skating. I have been doing it for centuries but I never practice, which is why I am still not good at it."

"This is going to take centuries?" he cried in despair.

"Of course not, love! I picked it up well enough to get by but I never practiced, that is why I have no skill at ice skating. I promise, willow bud, that if you practice this you will be wonderful someday."

He sighed again and trudged across the vague clearing to retrieve his arrow. The second was only there if he lost the first.

Within an hour his arms were beginning to tremble, but he was improving. He couldn't always get his arrow within the vicinity of the bush, but he was able to fire it more steadily, and he never lost it. When he grinned at me after both managing to rattle the branches of the bush and having fired without the arrow wobbling, I tilted my head toward him and tucked my needle into the collar of my gown, knowing he would be ready to leave soon. "See?"