grundyscribbling (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
grundyscribbling) wrote2023-08-13 10:43 pm
grundyscribbling) wrote2023-08-13 10:43 pm
Entry tags:
Day 13 - Seeing Is Believing
Title: Seeing Is Believing
Author: Grundy
Rating: FR13
Crossover: LotR/Silmarillion
Summary: Anariel tried to spar without an audience. It just didn't quite work.
Word Count: 1600
Note: Oops. Ran out of time. But I think this works.
Anariel was surprised – not entirely pleasantly – when she reached the area between the armory and the stables she was hoping was far enough from everyone to actually get a workout in.
There were more people than she’d expected.
Grandfather and Uncle Eöl she’d asked for. She supposed she could see Aunt Merilin being curious. Gil-galad and Arador was overkill, though.
“This isn’t an exhibition,” she protested.
The problem with having so many people around was that would get other relatives curious about what they were up to. She suspected it wouldn’t take long to snowball to the point of grandfathers who overreacted investigating.
“Hardly,” Celeborn snorted. “You had more people regularly watching your training sessions in Lothlorien.”
She was trying to figure out a tactful way to point out that was different when Grandmother and Aunt Trouble showed up with a picnic breakfast.
“Becoming more like an exhibition by the moment,” she muttered.
“I just want to see if you live up to your reputation,” Gil-galad said cheerfully. “And it seems like your best friend ought to know what you’re capable of.”
She tried not to glare at him – or her grandfather’s raised eyebrow.
If you’re too long about it, you won’t get anything in at all, he pointed out.
Anariel wondered if he realized this had potential to end with him and Uncle Eöl getting scolded by their respective father-in-laws again. But he was also right, so she threw herself into sparring without further ado. She wasn’t the one who would be in the doghouse over it.
She was, however, the one frustrated when Grandpa Nolo and Grandfather Ara showed up just as she was getting into the swing of things. Practiced as they were at working together, Grandfather and Uncle Eöl were having to work. But at least it was novel – she was used to most of the twins’ tactics by now.
She was not amused at the “stop this immediately” in royal aggravated father tones.
She was even less amused by the sight of her brothers just behind them. They’d clearly attempted an unsuccessful diversion.
This time she didn’t bother tapping out. She just froze – as did Uncle Eöl, both of their blades a hair from meeting flesh. She wouldn’t have managed that so smoothly when she’d first come to Imladris.
She flicked her sword up in a salute to him, a courtesy both Glorfindel and Grandfather had drilled into her. He nodded in acknowledgement before she turned to face her grandfathers, trying not to scowl.
“That is more than enough,” Grandpa Nolo began.
“You’re right,” she replied. “It is. You can’t keep doing this every time I want to spar. And that’s all this is, sparring. I hear you did a fair bit of it in Beleriand, so you should be able to recognize it for what it is.”
“Sparring is no longer necessary. We are in Tirion,” he said sternly.
“It’s no longer necessary for you,” she shot back. “It is for me. Slayer energy doesn’t just vanish. It has to be worked out somehow. I guess I could take up running and do a marathon every morning, but this is more efficient and keeps my skills sharp. I took care to get as far from the main buildings as I could out of respect for your sensibilities. You could return the favor and let me do my thing without the dramatics.”
“You could go farther away,” Uncle Eöl suggested blandly. “Uncle Elu would have no such problem.”
Great. Just what she needed, Noldor-Sindar sniping upping the stakes. Grandpa Thingol and Grandfather Nolo were mutual non-fans. (Judging by the expression on Aunt Trouble’s face, she wasn’t the only one who didn’t appreciate it.)
“Actually, I think I should be able to work out as I see fit, wherever I happen to be,” she said firmly, hoping it would be enough to shut that down.
“Perhaps you could practice with someone your own age, not two who have several Ages experience over you,” Grandfather Arafinwë suggested.
She knew he meant it as a compromise, but it wasn’t really any better, and she wasn’t going to indulge it. They needed to understand, and putting it off with half-measures wasn’t going to help much.
“The only ones close to my age I’d trust would be my brothers, and they don’t want to be practice dummies every day,” she sighed. “Not to mention, I think you should trust my grandfather and… kinsman to not break me, even if you don’t trust my abilities.”
Grandfather smirked at her not know what the accurate term for the relation was. Not that she could help it if she didn’t know how to express it in Noldorin or Sindarin, given Eöl was related to her multiple ways even before Tinu had married Maeglin.
“This is far from reasonable,” Grandpa Nolo began.
“I totally agree,” Anariel said, trying not to sound too sarcastic. “In fact, I think you could use a demonstration. You need to see what it looks like when I fight for real.”
Now Grandfather’s raised eyebrow was wondering who on earth she meant to pick on for that. Uncle Eöl was smirking, but Aunt Trouble looked worried.
“Uncle Tulkas?” she said sweetly. “If you’re not too busy?”
He was there before anyone had time to protest – and quite a few people looked ready to. Even Grandmother had actually put her breakfast down.
“It is a tight space here,” Tulkas observed. “You will have to be careful.”
“Don’t you mean we?” Anariel smirked.
“In that case, child, what was your word? Onguard?”
It was nice to not have to hold back for a change. It was slightly less nice to have to watch out for everyone else, because while she knew Tulkas wouldn’t throw anything at them, she also knew he wouldn’t remember to take into account where she might end up if he threw her.
She wasn’t entirely sure if everyone else could hear Tulkas’ running commentary. She wasn’t sure who would approve more, Giles or Glorfindel.
They would certainly be right that I am the most effective trainer you’ve ever had.
Also the most modest, she snorted.
You would prefer I dissemble? Melkor will not go easy on you if I should pretend you’re doing better than you are.
Morgoth’s already had a solid dose of fighting me and found out he didn’t like it, she snorted. Biggest chicken ever.
A fair point. But even with the limp, he is still a bit better at this than you. It’s as well we have plenty of time to practice.
Anariel didn’t let her curiosity at that interesting little nugget distract her. If she had, she would have gone flying instead of just her sword. How had he managed that?
I do appreciate the focus. Most would have trouble fighting at this level and talking.
Elrohir tossed her a knife as she flipped past him, so she came up with a sword in one hand and the knife in the other. This two-weapon style was more her brothers’ thing, but she did know how.
It’s good practice, Tulkas chuckled. Unfortunately for you, the focus on the weapons meant you missed this…
‘This’ sent her flying backwards into a hedge, and the sounds suggested more than one spectator was severely alarmed. She was going to have to review that move later. Even in retrospect she still wasn’t sure how he’d done it.
“Bleh,” she coughed as she sat up, brushing twigs from her hair. “That’s twice you pulled that fake-out.”
Twice you fell for it, he smirked.
“Enough.”
They both turned toward Arafinwë, though admittedly Anariel wasn’t entirely steady on her feet as she did.
I think that’s enough to keep the Slayer quiet for a time, don’t you?
Sure, run away now that we’re getting in trouble, she snorted.
He’s threatening to tell Estë.
That won’t get him very far. Melian’s on your side. She’s in favor of me getting all the practice.
“That is sufficient demonstration for one day.”
“High King,” Tulkas said with a bow.
That left just her to face the music.
…and the rapidly approaching grandmothers. Not Grandmother, obviously, she’d seen the whole thing. But her mother and aunts were coming to see what all the commotion was.
“Clean up, darling.”
Grandmother briskly handed her a damp cloth.
“Huh?”
“Bloody nose, sweetie,” Aunt Trouble explained. “From that elbow. At least, I think it was an elbow. It was a bit tricky to follow. It will upset Ammë no end. I suppose there’s not much to do about the bruises.”
“Not worth worrying about,” Grandmother murmured. “They’ll be gone in time.”
At least one of them was confident about that.
“Arafinwë Ingoldo!”
“Nolofinwë Arakano! What is the meaning of all this?”
Anariel frowned. Míriel and Indis were not the grandmothers she’d been expecting.
Eärwen and Anairë will be along in a minute I’m sure, Indis said. But I think we’ve a better chance of getting to the bottom of this.
Anariel blinked and decided this was a good moment to sit down on Grandmother and Aunt Trouble’s picnic blanket.
“I think this is what the phrase ‘sit down before you fall down’ is for?” Arador asked in an undertone.
Don’t even try the ‘ok’ thing, Gil-galad advised. If even the boy can see you need a minute…
On the bright side, Tulkas had been right. Barring every other Noldorin relative she had showing up today, she should be good for a week or two at least. Maybe longer.
“I don’t suppose there’s any popcorn, is there?” she asked.
Author: Grundy
Rating: FR13
Crossover: LotR/Silmarillion
Summary: Anariel tried to spar without an audience. It just didn't quite work.
Word Count: 1600
Note: Oops. Ran out of time. But I think this works.
Anariel was surprised – not entirely pleasantly – when she reached the area between the armory and the stables she was hoping was far enough from everyone to actually get a workout in.
There were more people than she’d expected.
Grandfather and Uncle Eöl she’d asked for. She supposed she could see Aunt Merilin being curious. Gil-galad and Arador was overkill, though.
“This isn’t an exhibition,” she protested.
The problem with having so many people around was that would get other relatives curious about what they were up to. She suspected it wouldn’t take long to snowball to the point of grandfathers who overreacted investigating.
“Hardly,” Celeborn snorted. “You had more people regularly watching your training sessions in Lothlorien.”
She was trying to figure out a tactful way to point out that was different when Grandmother and Aunt Trouble showed up with a picnic breakfast.
“Becoming more like an exhibition by the moment,” she muttered.
“I just want to see if you live up to your reputation,” Gil-galad said cheerfully. “And it seems like your best friend ought to know what you’re capable of.”
She tried not to glare at him – or her grandfather’s raised eyebrow.
If you’re too long about it, you won’t get anything in at all, he pointed out.
Anariel wondered if he realized this had potential to end with him and Uncle Eöl getting scolded by their respective father-in-laws again. But he was also right, so she threw herself into sparring without further ado. She wasn’t the one who would be in the doghouse over it.
She was, however, the one frustrated when Grandpa Nolo and Grandfather Ara showed up just as she was getting into the swing of things. Practiced as they were at working together, Grandfather and Uncle Eöl were having to work. But at least it was novel – she was used to most of the twins’ tactics by now.
She was not amused at the “stop this immediately” in royal aggravated father tones.
She was even less amused by the sight of her brothers just behind them. They’d clearly attempted an unsuccessful diversion.
This time she didn’t bother tapping out. She just froze – as did Uncle Eöl, both of their blades a hair from meeting flesh. She wouldn’t have managed that so smoothly when she’d first come to Imladris.
She flicked her sword up in a salute to him, a courtesy both Glorfindel and Grandfather had drilled into her. He nodded in acknowledgement before she turned to face her grandfathers, trying not to scowl.
“That is more than enough,” Grandpa Nolo began.
“You’re right,” she replied. “It is. You can’t keep doing this every time I want to spar. And that’s all this is, sparring. I hear you did a fair bit of it in Beleriand, so you should be able to recognize it for what it is.”
“Sparring is no longer necessary. We are in Tirion,” he said sternly.
“It’s no longer necessary for you,” she shot back. “It is for me. Slayer energy doesn’t just vanish. It has to be worked out somehow. I guess I could take up running and do a marathon every morning, but this is more efficient and keeps my skills sharp. I took care to get as far from the main buildings as I could out of respect for your sensibilities. You could return the favor and let me do my thing without the dramatics.”
“You could go farther away,” Uncle Eöl suggested blandly. “Uncle Elu would have no such problem.”
Great. Just what she needed, Noldor-Sindar sniping upping the stakes. Grandpa Thingol and Grandfather Nolo were mutual non-fans. (Judging by the expression on Aunt Trouble’s face, she wasn’t the only one who didn’t appreciate it.)
“Actually, I think I should be able to work out as I see fit, wherever I happen to be,” she said firmly, hoping it would be enough to shut that down.
“Perhaps you could practice with someone your own age, not two who have several Ages experience over you,” Grandfather Arafinwë suggested.
She knew he meant it as a compromise, but it wasn’t really any better, and she wasn’t going to indulge it. They needed to understand, and putting it off with half-measures wasn’t going to help much.
“The only ones close to my age I’d trust would be my brothers, and they don’t want to be practice dummies every day,” she sighed. “Not to mention, I think you should trust my grandfather and… kinsman to not break me, even if you don’t trust my abilities.”
Grandfather smirked at her not know what the accurate term for the relation was. Not that she could help it if she didn’t know how to express it in Noldorin or Sindarin, given Eöl was related to her multiple ways even before Tinu had married Maeglin.
“This is far from reasonable,” Grandpa Nolo began.
“I totally agree,” Anariel said, trying not to sound too sarcastic. “In fact, I think you could use a demonstration. You need to see what it looks like when I fight for real.”
Now Grandfather’s raised eyebrow was wondering who on earth she meant to pick on for that. Uncle Eöl was smirking, but Aunt Trouble looked worried.
“Uncle Tulkas?” she said sweetly. “If you’re not too busy?”
He was there before anyone had time to protest – and quite a few people looked ready to. Even Grandmother had actually put her breakfast down.
“It is a tight space here,” Tulkas observed. “You will have to be careful.”
“Don’t you mean we?” Anariel smirked.
“In that case, child, what was your word? Onguard?”
---
It was nice to not have to hold back for a change. It was slightly less nice to have to watch out for everyone else, because while she knew Tulkas wouldn’t throw anything at them, she also knew he wouldn’t remember to take into account where she might end up if he threw her.
She wasn’t entirely sure if everyone else could hear Tulkas’ running commentary. She wasn’t sure who would approve more, Giles or Glorfindel.
They would certainly be right that I am the most effective trainer you’ve ever had.
Also the most modest, she snorted.
You would prefer I dissemble? Melkor will not go easy on you if I should pretend you’re doing better than you are.
Morgoth’s already had a solid dose of fighting me and found out he didn’t like it, she snorted. Biggest chicken ever.
A fair point. But even with the limp, he is still a bit better at this than you. It’s as well we have plenty of time to practice.
Anariel didn’t let her curiosity at that interesting little nugget distract her. If she had, she would have gone flying instead of just her sword. How had he managed that?
I do appreciate the focus. Most would have trouble fighting at this level and talking.
Elrohir tossed her a knife as she flipped past him, so she came up with a sword in one hand and the knife in the other. This two-weapon style was more her brothers’ thing, but she did know how.
It’s good practice, Tulkas chuckled. Unfortunately for you, the focus on the weapons meant you missed this…
‘This’ sent her flying backwards into a hedge, and the sounds suggested more than one spectator was severely alarmed. She was going to have to review that move later. Even in retrospect she still wasn’t sure how he’d done it.
“Bleh,” she coughed as she sat up, brushing twigs from her hair. “That’s twice you pulled that fake-out.”
Twice you fell for it, he smirked.
“Enough.”
They both turned toward Arafinwë, though admittedly Anariel wasn’t entirely steady on her feet as she did.
I think that’s enough to keep the Slayer quiet for a time, don’t you?
Sure, run away now that we’re getting in trouble, she snorted.
He’s threatening to tell Estë.
That won’t get him very far. Melian’s on your side. She’s in favor of me getting all the practice.
“That is sufficient demonstration for one day.”
“High King,” Tulkas said with a bow.
That left just her to face the music.
…and the rapidly approaching grandmothers. Not Grandmother, obviously, she’d seen the whole thing. But her mother and aunts were coming to see what all the commotion was.
“Clean up, darling.”
Grandmother briskly handed her a damp cloth.
“Huh?”
“Bloody nose, sweetie,” Aunt Trouble explained. “From that elbow. At least, I think it was an elbow. It was a bit tricky to follow. It will upset Ammë no end. I suppose there’s not much to do about the bruises.”
“Not worth worrying about,” Grandmother murmured. “They’ll be gone in time.”
At least one of them was confident about that.
“Arafinwë Ingoldo!”
“Nolofinwë Arakano! What is the meaning of all this?”
Anariel frowned. Míriel and Indis were not the grandmothers she’d been expecting.
Eärwen and Anairë will be along in a minute I’m sure, Indis said. But I think we’ve a better chance of getting to the bottom of this.
Anariel blinked and decided this was a good moment to sit down on Grandmother and Aunt Trouble’s picnic blanket.
“I think this is what the phrase ‘sit down before you fall down’ is for?” Arador asked in an undertone.
Don’t even try the ‘ok’ thing, Gil-galad advised. If even the boy can see you need a minute…
On the bright side, Tulkas had been right. Barring every other Noldorin relative she had showing up today, she should be good for a week or two at least. Maybe longer.
“I don’t suppose there’s any popcorn, is there?” she asked.
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I don't know about a resolution, but certainly a 'let her do her thing'...