Gifted //Éomer / LOTR

Chapter 1

"Again!" 

Freya has her fists held up, shaking her head back and forth to clear the sudden fog that had clouded her mind from the punch from Clarisse. Her knuckles are bloody under the boxing wraps and her nose is very bruised. She glares at her friend and bounces on her toes to get her back into rhythm. 

One, two, duck, one, two punch. One--Punch!

"Don't expect people to follow the rules. Predictability is our friend," Clarisse drills this mantra into her head each time they fight, as Freya consistently gets mixed up between what is a game and what is the real world. 

"I get that, Clar', but don't you think I need to have a little bit of repetition when we're practicing? You know all about my unpredictability when I'm actually fighting... right?" Freya looks to the older and taller girl and drops her fists to her side. "I'm not really that bad am I?" Clarisse just grunts.

"Let's just say that you should probably stick with weapons over your hands." Freya frowns and looks down at her bloody knuckles.

"Hmph." 

"C'mon, pipsqueak. We need to shower off and get to our lessons."

"I'm not that short!"

"Yeah, you kind of are." Clarisse looks back at the younger girl and gives her a smirk.

"Just because you are some freakish giant doesn't mean the rest of us are."

"Frey, you're smaller than Death Boy. That's saying something."

.....

It is raining. Sounds of thousands of footsteps are approaching. Guttural roars that I've never heard before sending stark shivers of fear down my spine. A voice amongst the ranks that I'm standing in calls out:

"A Eruchîn, ú-dano i faelas a hyn ... an uben tanatha le faelas!" (Show them no mercy ... for you shall receive none!)" 

It is a language that I understand but I don't understand how. I've never heard it until now. I shift in my spot and hear another voice next to me. I look down and see a small-statured man, one that I would say was a dwarf, but not like the dwarves I've met before.

"What's happening out there?" The person to the left of the dwarf speaks up next.

"Shall I describe it to you? Or would you like me to find you a box?" I stifle a choked laugh and the small man chortles. 

-

"25! 26! 27!" I call out, slicing down these creatures that had come over the wall we were defending. 

"18! 19! 20!" One of the voices of the people I stood next to at the beginning of the battle call out in return.

"Legolas, Gimili, I'm on 31!" 

"No lassie or elfling is going to beat me!" The small man screams from the other end of the wall, swinging his axe ferociously. I chortle and continue hacking down the creatures.

-

"Haldir! Na barad! (To the keep!)" The elf nods and we begin to rush back when one of the creatures comes up behind the elf and strikes him down. I scream out as the dark-haired man drags me away. 

"Al! Mín gar- na help hon! (No! We have to help him!)" The man drags me away and puts his lips close to my ear.

"There's nothing we can do Freya, we have to retreat to the keep." I sob and turn away.