Veiled Stars » LotR [1] ✔️

Chapter Nineteen: Something Worth Fighting For

Elle learned to hold a sword when she was ten.

She took her first life when she was thirteen.

At seventeen, she pushed the numbers deep down, where not even she could reach them. Where she could forget.

But in all her years of running, she'd never once had something to fight for. She never once had something she was willing to give her life to protect.

And now, she realized, she did. And for the first time, not a sliver of fear meddled with Elle's thoughts. She felt perfectly clear. Perfectly whole.

Agnor snorted at her words. Following his lead, his men broke into raucous laughter, roaring with mocking amusement at her choice.

It was foolish, of course it was. None would stand a chance against Legolas, and Elle doubted they would even last five minutes against Gimli.

But she knew the kind of man Agnor was. She had met more than one of his type: bloodthirsty, power hungry, and with a mouthful of lies.

She didn't trust him. And if he betrayed his word, she wouldn't let one of the others pay for her cowardice.

"I knew you were dull, girl," Agnor smirked. "But I had no idea the extent of your thickness. You really must have a death wish."

Elle glared, not trusting herself to speak. Agnor drew his sword; her breath caught in her throat.

Andúril gleamed in the light, shining brighter than ever. Agnor gripped it carelessly, weighing the blade in his hand. He clearly knew not the power that he held.

Catching her expression, he grinned, arching an eyebrow. "Your friend has a beautiful sword, despite his lack of skill to use it. I think it was destined to come to my possession, do you not agree?"

"I think you must be more thick-headed than I'll ever be if you believe that sword's destiny is tied to your rotten existence," Elle spat.

Agnor's expression soured and his grip tightened. "I don't believe the halflings will be hungry after this fight. Your death will ruin their appetites. Shame, really."

Elle looked over at the pale faces of Merry and Pippin for a second. She nodded firmly at them, with a confidence she only half felt.

Fixing her gaze back at Agor, Elle took her stance, copying the position Legolas had taught her during their few sessions. "I suppose we'll see, won't we?"

The man laughed, swinging his weapon with practiced eased.

He took a step forward, but then to Elle's surprise, he paused. Looking at one of his men, he jerked his head in Elle's direction and the man blinked, then drew his own blade, handing it over to her.

Cautiously, Elle took the sword, shooting Agnor a confused look. He sneered in answer.

"The White Wizard cannot punish for a death where I was only defending myself. Let's see how long you can hold your own, girl."

Elle gripped the blade tighter, her heart doing a little flip. Her mouth suddenly felt dry.

Agnor attacked without warning, striking forward with enough force to send Elle stumbling back.

Catching herself, she regained her balance, readjusting her grip and retreating backward as Agnor advanced.

They circled and she could feel his dark eyes watching her, evaluating every move she made and searching for even a moment of weakness.

She took a quick breath.

This time it was her who leaped forward without a warning, their two blades clashing with sparks as they met midair. She drove forward with all her strength, fighting for the upper hand.