Silverhelm: A Tale of Two Enemies

Men Underestimate Me. Again.

Frodo was doing well and had woken today. Elrond had drawn out a shard of the knife that had remained inside (and was going deeper), and cured Frodo. He (Elrond, not Frodo) had called for a feast to celebrate the Ringbearer's recovery.

I had met Lord Elrond, and he was happy to see me safe. I am, after all, his great-great-great-great-great-granddaughter, and he absolutely hates it when I go wandering. Not like the people that don't like it because they don't like women that can fight better than them; he knows full well I can handle myself (after all, his sons were the ones that taught me how to fight), but because he cares for me like a father would his daughter, and didn't want me to go Valar know where fighting Manwë knows what.

I had received an invitation to a secret council, a council to decide what to do with the Ring. That was today, in about half an hour, so I was getting ready. No doubt it would be men only, so I had to make an impression as a warrior. Yes, I thought these things out. I couldn't wear any of the simple yet elegant dresses the elves had provided me, which was a shame: I actually like wearing dresses, provided I don't have to run or fight. I would have to wear a tunic and breeches. Thankfully, the elves had provided me with this type of clothes as well, so I wouldn't have to wear any of my old stained ones. I put on a forest green tunic and walnut brown breeches. I threw my old blue cloak over my shoulder and strapped on my weapons: I shouldered my bow, strapped on my quiver and sword-belt, and put my assortment of knives and daggers in their respective sheath. Not in that order, of course: everyone knows, your sword goes on first, then your quiver, then your knives and daggers, and your bow last. Duh.

I set out at a brisk pace towards the porch the Council would be held in, I was a little late. As I walked in, I saw Legolas nursing a black eye and broken jaw, and smiled to myself. I was walking towards the empty seat across from him, beside Aragorn, when a Southerner, Gondorian by the White Tree on his garments, stood up.

"My lady, did you lose your way?" he asked politely.

"I inwardly groaned. Not another person underestimating me because of my gender, and even worse, calling me my lady. I hate it when people call me that. "Actually, I grew up here, so I know my way around pretty well, probably better than you. I don't think I've lost my way, unless this is not the Council of Elrond. I believe I am meant to be here."

"That is not possible!" the man scoffed.

"Why, because I'm a woman, and women don't have a place among men?"

"Exactly! There is no reason to have a place among Men, among warriors!"

"Elladan, can you think of a reason she should be here?" Elrohir said as he walked into the porch with his twin brother.

"Why yes!" Elladan replied. "I think that the fact that she can kill a man in ten different ways if she wants to is one!"

"Kill me? Who, her? She looks as gentle as any other lady!" the man of Gondor said. At the word 'gentle', Aragorn, Elladan, Elrohir, and Legolas turned a laugh into a snort.

"Oh, yes, I can kill you." I unsheathed my sword and set the point under his chin in one fluid movement. "Would you like a demonstration?" I asked sweetly. "These weapons are not for show, you know. I can actually use them." The Gondorian looked startled, and Aragorn and the Rivendell elves present roared with laughter.

"What in the name of the Eldar is going on here?" The porch suddenly quieted as Lord Elrond strode in. I bowed my head and sheathed my sword, then took my seat. "Lyrasael, why were you holding a sword at Boromir's neck?" Boromir. So that was his name.

"My lord Elrond, he questioned her, saying she has no place here, and Elladan and Elrohir said one of the reasons she should be here is that she could kill him in ten different ways if she wanted to," Aragorn explained.