Princess of the Woodland Realm||LOTR

Legolas in danger?

Thranduil rarely attended any of Aranel's training sessions, however, with the looming threat of war and the increasing threat of the spiders, he had to ensure that she was ready for battle. There could be no room for error, even if Aranel insisted she was perfect. Thranduil would be the judge of that himself. Aranel had started from above the targets, loosing several shots, making quick work of them. She kept her focus straight on the dummy targets, desperately trying to ignore the fact her father's eyes were tracking her every move. As she loaded her bow for another shot, Thranduil spoke up from the sides, deciding he'd seen enough.

"Enough!" His voice boomed over the training arena. Aranel lowered her bow and faced her father. "It seems that you have mastered your bow, Aranel. You are skilled at distance fighting, thanks to your brother. Now let us see how you handle yourself in hand to hand combat. You will spar with me." Aranel swallowed thickly. Hand to hand combat wasn't something Legolas had decided to focus on, although they did touch on it on occasion. "Do not worry, my daughter. I shall not harm you, but that doesn't mean I will take it too easy on you." Thranduil unsheathed his sword. If he said he wouldn't harm her, she believed him. Aranel grasped her twin blades. She couldn't let her nerves get the best of her, not when sparring with her father. 

Closing her eyes, the Princess inhaled sharply. She never gained an opportunity to train with others in close hand to hand combat like Legolas had. Perhaps she'd never thought to ask for that kind of training outside of the spars she had with her brother. To Aranel, her bow and arrows were sufficient enough. Clearly, Thranduil did not think this was the case.

"Ready." She opened her eyes and let out an exhale, keeping her eyes locked on her father. Thranduil nodded before his face contorted into anger as he advanced on his daughter. It was the normal look he bore during battles. Aranel quickly raised her knives in a cross above her head, parrying her father's swing.

"Good. One of the stronger forms of parrying." Thranduil praised his daughter, although his face didn't betray him. His next move took Aranel by surprise. She stumbled backwards, barely losing her balance. "Being caught off guard is not something you want to have happen to you, especially on the battlefield, more so when you are surrounded on all sides." Thranduil raised his sword again, crashing it down on Aranel's knives. He was stronger and more skilled than she was. His weight pressed her further into the ground. Grunting, Aranel mustered her strength, shoving her Father away from her. Thranduil stumbled to the ground, clearly shocked his daughter had the strength she did and pride swelled in his chest. That strength would come in handy for her. For once, Thranduil was happy to not have an audience watching them.

"Then it is a good thing that I am sparring with the best warrior that Mirkwood has ever seen." Aranel smirked, twirling her twin blades in her hands, advancing on him. Thranduil stood and faced her. He spun his sword in his hand. It was clear he wanted to kick things up a notch. His eyes were ablaze with anger, but it was not caused by his daughter. This anger went deeper. Anger at the Shadow that covered his lands. Anger at the guards who let the Dwarves slip through their fingers. Anger at Tauriel for defying his orders and betraying his trust. That was just the tip of the iceberg.

"Prepare yourself, Princess of Mirkwood. I will no longer take it easy on you." His voice was low and fear flashed over Aranel's fair features. "Let us see how well you can really do."

Ducking his first swing, Aranel had no time to recover before she was pushed to the ground hard. Sharp pain flared through her abdomen. Her father towered over her, striking even more fear into her heart. Aranel rolled to the left and scrambled to her feet. The sword came down upon her again, clanging against her knives.

"Your footwork needs more work, my daughter." His sword pushed her down to her knees again. No matter the strength she could muster, her father kept overpowering her. "Do you yield?" Aranel weighed her options as she grunted, still trying to push herself up.

"I-I yield." She spoke with haste. Thranduil stepped away from his daughter, sheathing his sword. Aranel panted, out of breath and energy. She was certain she could feel bruises forming.

"Legolas has trained you well in your bowmanship, of that I have no doubt. You need more training with hand to hand combat. Both he and I can help you with that." He held his hand out towards his daughter, helping her up.

"You know I fight better from a distance." Aranel grunted in pain, grasping her side as he pulled her from the floor. Thranduil looked her over, noticing her favouring her left side.

"Distance fighting will only take you so far, Ara. If the enemy surrounds you, your bow and arrows will be of no use to you." He advised. "You have no visible injuries, however, they may be internal. The healers will help you." Thranduil wrapped his arm around her shoulders and led her from the training arena.

"I understand. I will do my best, Ada." Aranel winced gently, her right arm still wrapped around her side. She'd had injuries before, yet she wasn't used to this kind of pain.

"I am sorry if I hurt you. It was only my intention to help you prepare, never to hinder you. I let my anger from earlier today get the best of me. Something I taught you to get better at controlling and I can't even control it myself." Thranduil felt shame rise in him. Aranel shook her head gently.

"Nay, Ada. I understand your anger. I have it in my veins as well. I know you didn't intend to hurt me." Aranel thanked him quietly as he placed her into the care of an older Elven healer.

"Rest, my Princess." The healer gave her a warm drink to help with her pain and keep her asleep for a few well deserved hours of sleep. Aranel laid her head upon the pillow and stared at the wooden ceiling, thankful for the rest.

Her rest did not last long as Aranel awoke with a new feeling in her heart. Sitting upright in her bed, Aranel scanned the list of reasons for the pain in her heart. One thought came to mind.

"Legolas..." Aranel whispered to herself. The healers didn't think their Princess would awaken so soon. The drink she had been given should have kept her asleep for more than a few hours to allow her body to heal properly.

Aranel knew her brother was in danger, she could feel it. She could feel his heart quickening and soon felt the pain radiate from her back. It was intense. She'd never felt this kind of pain when Legolas was in battle, even if she herself was there. He was always so skilled, never allowing an enemy to overtake him. This was unusual for their Elven bond. It was never this strong... unless he was thinking of her.

Now, with the pain as excruciating as it was, she knew he was thinking of her. She knew Legolas wanted her to know that he was in pain, but that he was also still alive, fighting to keep it that way. Seldom did any foe ever overpower him. As suddenly as the feelings arrived, they subsided. Fearing the worst, Aranel threw the covers off.

"Ada!" Aranel rushed from her bed to find her father. Running past the Elven guards and ignoring the healers calls for her to return to the bed. Thranduil had been in the halls with a member of the Council, speaking in hushed tones when he heard his daughter's call. The Council member took his leave of the King and the Princess when Aranel found her father's arms. "Legolas. He's in danger. I need to leave at once." She looked into his eyes. Thranduil could tell she was telling the truth.

"You're certain?" The Elvenking asked. He needed to be absolutely sure she could feel him and his pain. Aranel nodded.

"I am, Ada. It has never been this strong before. I can only feel what he feels when he thinks of me. That is how our bond works, though I know it is different for others. Legolas and I trust each other completely. Please, Ada, I need to get to him." Aranel never pleaded with her father. Thranduil could see it in his daughter's eyes. The fear she held for Legolas. The love and trust she had in her brother was the reason their bond was so strong.

"Go to him, and be safe. Mirkwood will need you again soon." Thranduil reluctantly agreed to send his daughter to find his son. Aranel swiftly thanked him and rushed to her room, quickly changing into her battle tunic. The Princess grabbed her bow and arrows, sheathing her knives behind her back. Aranel rushed to the stables, calling out to the stablehands.

"Bring me my horse!" A black mare was brought to her, fully saddled and ready to go.

'I'm coming 'Las.' Her mind screamed out to him, yet receiving no reply. She didn't want to assume the worst, yet a voice grew in the back of her mind, telling her to prepare for the worst.