Hey you guys! How's it going? I couldn't update for a while, for I was at camp for a couple of days. In the wild. OMG! *nerd moment: "Where are we going?" "Into the wild."* sorry, I just had to quote Aragorn, I am such a nerd. Here's chapter 4.
"Ok, so… we need to train, like, in weapons." I say. Rachel, Becca, and I are all in my room, discussing what Elrond said to us after the council. Rachel rolls her eyes. "That's like, the 3rd time you've said that. This is the final time I'm saying this, yes. Elrond said, and I quote, 'You all need to train in weaponry, for magic is not always the solution.'" I nod. "Well what weapons are we training with?" Becca blurts. "I think we have to choose." Rachel answers.
I sigh. It does make sense, seeing as I wasn't the best at magic, the only thing I excelled in was transfiguration, and I was rather good at that. But otherwise, I suck at potions, I suck at charms, I suck at astronomy with Ms. Trelawney, and I especially suck at Muggle Studies. I am okay at Defense Against the Dark Arts. "What weapon shall I choose?" I say, suddenly all kinds of serious.
"I don't know, you decide. I think I'll go for the sword." Rachel says, then starts to swing an imaginary sword around. She then laughs. "I think I'll go for the daggers." Becca decides. "I think I'll have a look. Want to come?" I ask. They both shake their heads no. I nod to both of them, and walk out the door.
Let me tell you, the halls of the House of Elrond are basically a maze. I turn every once in a while and end up in someone's room. And on top of that I don't have Arwen with me, leading me like she had earlier.
I turn a corner and come across a very out of doors looking door. I furrow my brow, and turn the brass knob. As I walk in, I hold my breath. It is a beautiful room. The walls-there are only three- are painted a glowing white. The fourth wall is not a wall-it is a weaving of vines, with glossy green leaves and the sun peeking through holes. There isn't much furniture, but the ones in there are made of a rich red mahogany, with brass handles.
As I stare around in awe, my eyes run across a hunched figure. My thoughts return to me and I realize that this is not out-of-doors, but someone's room. I squint at the figure. When I realized who it is, my eyes widen and my heart starts beating fast. It is the Aragorn guy, wasn't he like, a king? Yes. He is reading, thank my lucky stars, and hadn't noticed me yet. I take my chance, I back up and through the door, very slowly, and close the door softly. Click.
I then turn and run. Luckily I run straight onto a pavilion, facing toward combat dummies, targets, and a very nice selection of weapons. I sigh in relief. I walk over towards the sword section, I mean, it makes sense. In all the movies I've seen that is in the Middle Ages the soldiers and warriors and fighters all had swords. "Accio, sword!"
A sword with a ruby hilt comes flying at me. I catch it, and happily think, like a boss. I walk over to one of the combat dummies. "I shall hereby name you Sir Bob." I raise the sword, or try to. It is very heavy, at least one hundred pounds. I struggle for a few minutes, and eventually raise it off the ground, staggering as I do so.
I take a weak hack at the dummy. I catch it on the shoulder, ripping out some straw. I immediately decide against it. Swords officially suck. I walk back over to the weapons. I take one look at the axe and I receive a very embarrassing image of me failing at it. No to that, then. After a while, I decide to try the bow.
It is an excessively decorated bow, to which I think is quite useless, unless it has magical aiming abilities. I highly doubt it. I take a breath in and hold it gingerly. I begin to look for the quiver. As I look, a voice says, "What are you doing?" I turn to find Aragorn right behind me. I start. "Ohmygosh. Are you a ninja?"
"What is a 'ninja'?"
"Never mind. I am looking for a quiver."
"Ah, so you are skilled with a bow?" I look around sheepishly. "Er- no. Not at all. I am trying to find a weapon to be skilled at. Would you help me?" "Of course." Aragorn says. We spend a few minutes searching, when Aragorn finally comes up with a quiver.
"Oh, thank goodness." I take the bow from him and strap it to my back. I draw an arrow and try to figure out how to load the bow. "Um, how do I load it?" he chuckles. "Maybe you should have tutor?" I nod enthusiastically. "Yeah! Who?" "I know one person who is very skilled with a bow; I suppose you have met him? His name is Legolas Greenleaf."
I think of the rather good-looking guy, the one that looked anywhere between 18 and 21. "U-uh. Sure?" I tend to be a bit, well, nervous around the dude. Damn that elf. Aragorn nods. "Yes, I will speak to him. I think it best you go now." I smile and nod. Plans were set. I will be trained. "Good-bye." I say, and then somehow find my way back into the room.
Rachel and Becca are no longer there, so I lay on the bed and pick up a book. I open it. I can't understand it nor read it for it is in what I am guessing to be elvish. I sigh and toss it to the side. Useless. I think about what Aragorn told me. A tutor and it had to be that one, out of all elves in Rivendell. No way was I going to be of use in this mission. Quest. Thing. I now see where Pip is coming from.
And then it hits me; I don't have a way to get back home. Not able to get to Hogwarts. Not able to see my friends, nor my owl, nor my cat. I start to sob. Why had Dumbledore even sent me here? I didn't know anything and had no use in weapons! And I didn't even need weapons! Still crying, I kick a chest in frustration. I lie on my bed, and let the tears come. I curl up on the bed and fall asleep, worn out physically and mentally.
"Liz, wake up! Elrond says we've got training!" I open my eyes to find Rachel and Becca shaking me out of my peaceful rest. I groan. "And I thought waking early stopped when we came here!" I mumble, referring to school. The thought makes me want to sob. I push it away. "Coffee?" I ask, longing for caffeine. "Soda?" "No, but we do have training. Up!"
I am eventually dragged out of bed, changed into fresh clothes, and I re-braided my hair. We are now walking down the steps. I am dressed in a white tunic top, with some black leggings found in the back of the closet, and bear soft pale leather boots. "How long was I asleep?" I ask them. "Well, it is morning now, so I am supposing roughly 12 hours?" Becca answers. Rachel then decides to make the conversation awkward. "Did you see him? He is sooooo hot!" "Who?" I ask, thinking. "Aragorn, idiot! Anybody can see it! I mean, it's Mr. Black all over again!" I think to the mass murderer, Sirius Black, who broke out of jail a year ago. I had a serious mental thought of Sirius Black breaking in Hogwarts to invite Rachel for tea.
But, alas, I knew it wasn't him. It was her 5th grade math teacher in his early twenties. She had told us all about him. "Yeah, whatever. He's like thirty. And where are we even supposed to be going?" says Becca. "The training yard, I went there yesterday." I answer, thinking of the decorated bow. "Ah. So, where do we go?" Rachel asks. "I don't know." "You don't know." She smiles, thinking I'm joking. "I don't know." I confirm. "YOU DON'T KNOW!?" She practically screams. "We are going to be late! And Aragorn's training me!" "Oh, and that makes it all important, now does it? We'll find it, I'm sure."
We don't. We have traveled for a half an hour when Rachel says, "'We'll find it, I'm sure.'" I glare at her, opening my mouth to make a snarky retort, when I run into a soft, warm thing. I stumble, and when I steady I look up to find Elrond, looking mildly startled. "Lady Elizabeth, Lady Rachel, Lady Rebecca," he looks at each of us as he says our names. "What are you doing in these halls?"
"W-we were trying to find the training yard, Master Elrond." Becca speaks up. "Ah, I will lead you there." He starts to walk in the direction we came in. We follow. "So, what weapons have you chosen?" Elrond asks after a few minutes of silence. "And who are your trainers?" we look at each other, until Becca says, "I chose daggers, and Glorofindel is teaching me."
"Swords, and Aragorn is teaching me." Rachel says nonchalantly. "Umm, I chose a bow and I urm, think Legolas is teaching me." I say nervously. He laughs one of the rare laughs. "You think?" I frown, feeling my cheeks turn red. "Yes, I do. Aragorn said he would ask for me, and he never said what Legolas said."
"Hmm." Elrond hums in response. We turn the corner, and walk onto the pavilion that I had found earlier. "Yay!" Becca says. "Elrond got us here alive, and didn't take forever." I shoot her a look, and walk towards the display and pick up the excessively decorated bow. As I sling the quiver over my shoulder, I take in the scene. Aragorn is standing over at the dummies, a blonde elf at his side, and Legolas is standing in the archery range. I take this action to be an answer of yes, I'll train you. I walk casually over to him, or at least try to. I end up tripping and falling on my face, being the ever so graceful me.
"My Lady!" Legolas cries and he rushes to me. "Are you alright?" he asks in a much calmer tone, helping me up. "Yes." I say, brushing dirt off me. He smiles. We walk over to the range, and I pull an arrow out of the quiver. "So, um, how do I do this?" "Like this," he strides over to me, and gets up so that his arm is on mine, guiding the arrow to the back of the string, and he knocks it. I feel my heart beat faster, and I find my self holding my breath. He doesn't need to smell my breath; I haven't brushed my teeth in a day. In fact, if he did, I might knock him out. I had smelled it earlier today. This makes me hold my breath more.
Legolas then shifts, and I can feel his hot breath on my neck. Not exactly a nice experience. He places his hand on mine, and draws the arrow back. He lets go, and I feel nasty recoil on my hand. "OW! Ouch, ouch." Legolas glances down, and states, "You'll need guards, I'll get you some from the table." I nod up to him, and look to see where the arrow went. I do a little jig; it has struck bulls-eye, and I feel proud, even though Legolas did it.
Legolas appears again, and hands me a blue pair of bracers. I slip them on. "Do you know how to do it, my lady?" "Yes, and please, call me Liz." He smiles, "Alright." He really does have a pretty smile, and those eyes-stop. Stop it. I draw the arrow, and knock it. I pull back and aim best I can; it goes. It's flying, and…it thuds, 15 feet to the left of the target, and 5 feet short.
"Ughhh, I'll never learn." I groan. "Yes you will, just practice." Legolas rolls his eyes. "Fine."
I spend the rest of the 2 days practicing, and by the end I can make it into the inner yellow ring. I am soon packing a bag with most of the tunics and pants from the closet, and a needle and thread, and some stolen snacks. Yes, I stole them. I hang the bow and quiver on my back, and sigh. "It's time to leave." I turn, Rachel is at the door, her blue eyes gleaming with excitement. A grin splits my face. Even though I am homesick, I've always wanted an adventure. Always.
We are all gathered at the gate, in a single file line. I am straight behind Gandalf, who is straight behind Frodo, who is in the lead. Rachel is behind me, then Becca, and I know Legolas is next to Aragorn. I didn't bother with anyone else.
With my elven ears, I managed to pick up Frodo. "Gandalf, is it right or left?" he asks in a whisper. I stifle a giggle. Gandalf looks about and finally says, "Left." We are off. I take a deep breath of the fresh, non-polluted air. I was going on an adventure. Me. On an adventure. Finally.
Hope you liked it! I know this chapter was a bit slow, I had writers block. But things will pick up in the next chapter, now that I've plowed through this one. Please review and share your thoughts!