Moonbeam

Chapter Seven

Preparations were well underway for the upcoming feast.

The elves who resided in the palace accepted Tara's presence, and some even remembered her from her childhood. She found herself gradually relaxing in her surroundings, even after exchanging words with Thranduil over the chambers he had allocated her.

Set next to the royal quarters, they consisted of a spacious, comfortable bedroom, bathing area, and a relaxing lounge area. Fine tapestries adorned the walls, and the furnishings were hand-made by masters of the craft. Large windows looked out over the immaculate gardens below and the forest stretching out beyond. Luxuriously heavy curtains of the finest quality fabric hung at the windows.

The wardrobe was filled with clothing; each outfit a perfect fit for her. Consisting of gowns in an array of colours she had seldom seen in her life and in every style she could imagine, she found herself feeling more comfortable in trousers and tunics most days. Being accustomed to wearing this clothing, she felt more like herself.

But she was bored.

Wandering the halls one afternoon, she followed her ears as she heard the distant sound of screeching metal. Knowing from experience that the sound could only come from swords in combat, she made her way towards the racket, and found herself in the doorway of a large room.

Thranduil and a guard faced off against each other, locked in fierce battle.

Tara leaned against the door frame, folding her arms as she observed discreetly.

The tall ruler moved swiftly in attack, his blade slicing through the air with no effort at all. The guard defending backed away, but he pursued. Concentration brought his eyebrows down into a slight frown, a focused look in his eyes. Smooth, fluid moves carried him across the floor in what could be taken as a poetic dance. Sure, confident footsteps and masterful twists and turns aided him as he pushed his opponent further and further, until he was backed against the wall in surrender.

Thranduil stepped back and swished the sword with a flourish, both ellon bowing in respect to each other.

He swivelled on his heel and turned to face her, his chin lifting slightly in challenge. Using two fingers, he beckoned her further into the room, and she shifted her weight and decided to comply. The guard bowed to her as he left.

"I have seen some of what you can do," Thranduil said, his deep voice echoing around the room. "Now I wish to see what else you have to show me."

She smiled.

He selected a sword and started to turn back to her, but thought better of it, and chose a second one. "I believe you fight in a similar style to my own, with twin blades," he said.

"I am ambidextrous, so it suits me better to have two," she replied, taking both weapons from him. Spinning them around, she tested their weight and handling, glancing at him with a nod. "These are suitable."

"Good," he said, striding to the centre of the room. Both his swords slid from their scabbards. Ice blue eyes stared into hers as he twirled them around with a slight swishing sound. "I am already aware of a few weak points you have, and I wish to know what others you have, so that you can improve on them."

Her eyebrows came down in a frown. "I do not have weak points," she retorted.

"Yes, you do," he informed her. "Otherwise, I would not have been able to relieve you of one of your weapons that day in the forest."

"And as I recall, I returned the favour," she replied.

He smirked. "Only because I allowed you to. I told you – I did not intend to harm you. Only to put you in your rightful place."