Kingsfoil [Thranduil] LOTR

Diplomatic

"My lord, may I suggest a quick break?" Althirn requested and then barely waited for his king to nod before hurrying over to the side of the practice field where he had left his water skin.

Puzzled, Thranduil watched him go until he felt the sharp prick of a blade prodding him in the back. He moved enough to be out of the sword's reach and then turned, amusement playing in his eyes. "Here for a lesson, naurenniel?" he asked her, taking in her firm grip on her sword, which she charmingly still aimed at him, and the dangerous glint in her eyes.

She jabbed her sword toward his halls. "Why did Galadhor just inform me that I have Queen Lessons?"

Thranduil glanced around the field. No one paid them much attention. Yet. He and Narylfiel regularly sparred with each other in the past, although perhaps in better moods. "Let us go discuss this matter somewhere more private?" he suggested.

She angled her sword at him and narrowed her eyes. "Why didn't you tell me about this last night?"

Before she could move, Thranduil caught her blade with his own in a peal of metal scraping against metal. He forced her shorter sword down and leaned toward her. "I didn't want to worry you."

Narylfiel stepped back, disbelief on her face before her lips thinned into a tight line. "Worry me?" She swung her sword toward him again and waited.

Thranduil knew what she wanted.

He checked the next swing of her blade just hard enough to send her stumbling back. Narylfiel paused long enough to adjust her grip as she watched him out of the corner of her eye, her lips curving up into an almost smile.

She attacked first.

Thranduil blocked it.

Narylfiel spun away and swiped toward his side. She was in no way close to being the best swordsman in the guard, but she always fought to win, like she really might want to run him through.

Thranduil blocked her again and twisted away from another angled slash to his side. Ah, this was what he had been missing earlier in his practice with Althirn.

She advanced and then he pushed back.

It was push and pull, give and take, vicious and swift, and Thranduil's blood pounded as he met her strike for strike, blow for blow.

Until at last he knocked the sword from her hands.

He watched her pick it up from the frozen ground. Two bright spots stained her cheeks, but she still seemed paler than he would have liked. Thranduil motioned for her to follow him to one of the benches where there was a pitcher of water.

The dying light had most of the warriors packing up their weapons to return to their homes. The king poured her a cup of water, watched her take a sip.

"Rivenion agreed to help tutor you on your future role as queen," he said.

Narylfiel sprayed the water out of her mouth. "What? Why!"

Thranduil gracefully sat down on the bench, dabbed the droplets from his face with the edge of his cape. "I can think of a few minor areas, Narylfiel. Nothing to be upset about."

She sat down next to him with a huff. "Of course, I am upset. Why didn't you tell me this last night when we were alone?

He reached for her hands and warmed them with his own. "We were planning the Yule feast, and I don't know, you were just so happy. I didn't want to spoil the mood."

She pulled away, crossed her arms. "The mood of you slipping your hand under my-"

Thranduil interrupted. "I may have been wrong to keep it from you."