You Must Have Faith

Chapter Four

He paced around the training grounds, waiting impatiently for her to arrive. After about an hour of waiting, the entire field suddenly grew quite. He whipped around to face the entrance to the field, to find her standing in the doorway, swords sheathed at her hips, bow and arrows slung over her shoulder, hair tied back with a single strip of leather, un-braided and flowing down her back in a brushed, golden wave. She looked around until she spotted him, whereupon she immediately walked over to him, ignoring everyone else with an ease that spoke of experience with large amounts of people. She stopped about five feet in front of him.

"What do you want to test first, Lord Thranduil?"

He noticed that she gave the r in his name an odd roll, making it seem as if she were either growling or purring. Then he realized he had to answer her question.

"Duel with me, I wish to see your sword-work, if you will."

She inclined her head and then drew her swords, holding the left one in a forehand grip and the right one in a backhand grip.

Odd choice, Thranduil thought. He himself fought with them that way at times, but only when absolutely necessary, he never started that way and rarely finished like it. He drew his own swords, backing up a few steps and then twirling them, getting them comfortable, both in a forehand grip, points to either side of him. (a/n: see image above, the way he's holding the swords, not his clothes or anything like that).

They stood as still as statues for a few endless seconds, just staring into each other's eyes.  Then, as if they received an unspoken signal, they both began.  Those who were there that day told stories of the dual for ages to come.  It was a legend that became a popular one for around campfires and in taverns.  They dueled as if it was all planned out before-hand, dancing around each other in a dance where one wrong move could cost you your life.  They fought for what felt like hours, but no one really knew how long they fought for.  Until, finally, the unthinkable happened.  She disarmed him, sending both of his swords flying and then pinning him to the ground with one sword on his neck and the other poised in the air.  The entire field was dead silent.  Even the birds were quiet.  After a second or two, she rose from her position, sheathed her swords and then extended a hand to help him up.

He waved it away, standing by himself and then going to retrieve his swords.  Once they were in their sheaths, he turned to her and bowed.

"You are only the second person to ever defeat me in a duel, and the first elleth to do so.  The only other to beat me was my father, Oropher.  You, my lady, are a master swordsman."

She bowed to him as well.

"You are the closest that anyone has come to beating me.  I have never lost a duel since I finished my training, but you gave me a run for my money, King Thranduil.  Would you like to see my bowman-ship now?"

"I would.  I wish that my son was still here, he is a better archer than I or anyone else in Greenwood, but I will do my best to fill his place."

With that, they retrieved their bow and arrow's and lined up before a pair of archery targets.  They both knocked an arrow, pulling back the string and lining up their shots.  They released at the same time, lowering their bows and looking to see how well they shot.  Thranduil's was about an inch off the bulls-eye, while Vera's was in the exact center of the target.  He smiled ruefully and turned to Vera.

"I'm afraid we will have to wait until my son returns to have a proper archery match, for it is evident that he is the only one with a chance of beating you."