The warmup was light compared to the ones she'd done previously, but it got the job done, and she bounced nervously on the balls of her feet. They wore light padding at Elrohir's insistence, though Anna could barely feel the weight of it. Despite how weak she was after her trip to the strange world and her abrupt return, her unnatural levels of strength hadn't changed all that much. Though she wasn't too sure she could say the same of her stamina. Her strength was somewhat lacking compared to her earlier years, but for now it was enough. Anna drew the training blade, smiling as she locked eyes with Elladan. Here's to hoping maybe she'd be triumphant in a sparring match.
Her mind decided to flee elsewhere though in her fight, body moving on the instincts she'd thought were long dead as her memories took her back to Gondolin. But rather than all the sparring and the excursions out of the city, she was reminded of a night within the beautiful city. A night where the House of the King had been opened to members of all twelve houses of the Gondolindrim. It hadn't been a battle of swords. More like a battle of wits.
The night was warmer than most, a light breeze floating through the city as she followed after her parents on the banquet they'd been invited to. She was a warrior of the House of the Golden Flower, so it was doubly important that she attended to represent her lord. Unlike other houses, aside from perhaps the House of the Fountain, their warriors were the pride of their house – the ones ensuring the city was safe, rather than taking history down or forging various weapons and tools. Every house had their duties, and patrols and ventures outside the safety of their city were taken by them or the House of the Fountain. That was one of the reasons her lord and Lord Ecthelion were so close.
Sighing quietly, she made her way along the alley leading to the grandiose palace, careful not to get the skirts of the finest dress she had dirty. It was a pale silvery colour, golden embroidery done carefully, forming patterns upon patterns of celandine. The flower was commonly used amongst those in the House of the Golden Flower despite their standard bearing a different pattern, and their lord's love of the flower hardly went unnoticed either. She'd woven many a crown of the flower as a little elfling, and even to that day she enjoyed braiding them into her hair. Not that she had many friends with which to relax with. The only ones she had were her parents and the warriors of the Golden Flower... and her irritating lord too.
A smile pulled at her lips, not even dimming as she caught sight of Lord Glorfindel as soon as she arrived. He also caught sight of her and her parents, which was why he started making his way over towards them. Sighing once again, she readied herself to face the cheerful, teasing, goldenness that was the lord of their household.
Static sounded when he spoke her name. "A pleasure to see you here, and I see you have brought your parents along with you as well," he said, quickly turning to greet her parents before he turned back to her, finally taking in her dress and the golden embroidered celandine which matched the ones stitched onto the mantle he wore perfectly. "It seems as though we are coordinated rather well."
"Celandine have always been a favourite of mine, my lord," she said, well aware of the sharp elvish ears no doubt listening to their conversation along with several others at the same time. The serial gossipers, as well as the house in charge of keeping everyone in the city informed as to what was going on thrived off events like these ones. And she didn't want the particulars of the less than stellar relationship she had with the lord of her house spread amongst the city. Some people were terrible gossips, but she could hardly blame them. They all had their vices and their virtues.
Though admittedly she had yet to discover many of the vices of her annoyingly perfect lord.
"It seems as though we have that in common," Glorfindel spoke, a gentle smile on his face. One that probably broke hearts – though not hers. She'd grown immune to the sunny smile and the training demon it hid. "Though, if I may, my lady, I would very much like it if I could escort you to the dancefloor. I believe I must dance at least once before the night is out, lest I wish to have the other lords complain or doubt my skills."
She raised an eyebrow. It was certainly the most polite and wordy she'd ever seen her lord. She could indulge him, she supposed. Their dress did complement each other's. "Will you simply be escorting me there, or do you wish to dance with me as well?" she asked, clasping the proffered forearm.
"I wish to invite you to dance, my dear lady warrior," he said, a smile on his face as he all but purred the words, and she was abruptly reminded that swordplay and the intricate, solid footwork needed could also be constituted as a dance of sorts.
She smiled somewhat reluctantly. Of course the training demon of the Golden Flower would think of swordplay at a time like that. "Then I shall accompany you," she said, tapping him so he leant down so she could whisper in his ear. "But make one offhand comment about my lacking height, and your toes will be thoroughly bruised by the end of the night."
Glorfindel chuckled at her threat. "You have my word, my lady."
True to his word, there were no remarks about her lacking height from him at the very least. The cheers of the other warriors of their house though were another matter entirely, and she found herself sorely wishing she'd be able to beat them in the next sparring session they attended. Though the logical side of her remarked it would be a long time indeed before she could topple them from their seats. He was just as skilled of a dancer as she'd expected, which was very, though the dance ended without her stepping on his toes even once. Though she was sorely tempted to at moments, but she was above such temptations.
She nodded to her lord as their dance came to an end, eager to escape, and escape she did. She was successful in endeavouring to avoid Lord Glorfindel for the rest of the night. At least until she heard the quiet commotion upon finishing her visit to the 'powder room'. There were five of them there, all lords of their houses – ones whose warriors had recently held a joint training session with the House of the Golden Flower.
And they were complaining about the insanity of the training.
A smile curled at her lips. Training demon indeed. She turned to leave her lord to defend himself and his methods, pausing in the archway leading back to the main hall when she heard no response from her lord.
"Your training is too harsh!" the tall black-haired one spoke. "All the warriors of my houses were exhausted and barely able to make it to their homes after every single training session."
"I must agree with Pendelot," the silvery-haired lord she vaguely recognised as Egalmoth added. "If you are training your warriors as harshly as that, then you are running your house into the ground."
One eyebrow rose as her lord simply stood there, and her eyes widened as she spotted the confusion in his gaze. And Ecthelion, who usually supported him, was nowhere in sight. Her brow furrowed, and Glorfindel took a step backwards, deep in thought, and she decided she'd had enough.
Besides, now she could make the elf lord owe her one.
Her shoes clicked against the tiled floor, the slight heel added to her shoes boosting both her height and confidence slightly as she strode towards her idiot of a lord. "Actually," she spoke, walking to the side of her lord to stand with him. "I think you will find that the training sessions run by our lord are adequate. He is not, as you so eloquently put it 'running his house into the ground'. If ever we felt that a training session was too harsh, then we would bring this matter up to our lord here." Her eyes narrowed, meeting the grey ones suddenly fixed upon her slight form. "We trust our lord, and through fire and storm we will follow him no matter where he goes. Complain about the sessions my lord kindly ran to aid your warriors all you like. But never think you have the right to complain on behalf of the Warriors of the Golden Flower. It seems you know not half of what we are capable of," she finished, turning and glaring pointedly at her golden-haired idiot of a lord who was staring at her as if he'd seen her in a new light. "And you," she grumbled, grabbing him by the collar of his robes. "Next time some idiots question you about matters related to your house, have some damned confidence in your decisions. You are our lord, and everyone trusts you. Trust yourself some." She released him without another word, turning on her heel, hurrying away as she realised she'd just called four elf lords idiots.
Oops.
Anna chuckled at the memory, parrying the blade that sliced towards her, moving closer, using every last bit of her strength to gain the upper hand. Elladan had been surprised by her strength at first, and now he was wary of it. She pressed her advantage as best as she could, doing her best to draw a tie, if not a victory for herself. But strength wasn't always everything. There was always strategy and experience which went hand in hand. And despite technically being born far later than her, Elladan had more experience in live combat – though admittedly, the fighting had been harsher and fiercer in the First Age.
Her foot lashed out, blade already deflected away, boot slamming into his stomach, and she wasted no time in taking advantage of Elladan's winded state to level her blade to his throat. "I do believe this is my win," she said, pulling her blunted sword away, offering a hand to help him back to his feet.
"Well," Elrohir mumbled, coming to stand by them. "I think it is safe to say Anna will have little to no problems joining both the patrols and the sparring sessions held three times a week," he spoke, taking Elladan's blade from him, spinning it around in his hand with a practiced ease. "We can confer with father after I get to spar. I must say, your strength, from what I saw is rather impressive. Lord Glorfindel would probably enjoy sparring against you once you have a few more tactics up your sleeves... Your fighting style does seem to be based for overwhelming your opponents with strength rather than strategy." He grinned. "Let us hope neither of us earn too many injuries before we go and see father. He may be displeased otherwise."
Anna smiled.
She always had been a bit of an injury magnet.
It was after that same party at the King's palace that she'd found herself in the Halls of Healing. Sprained ankle, the healers had said, and she glared at her shoes. Of course she'd just had to fall down a set of stairs and twist her ankle in ways it wasn't meant to be twisted right towards the back end of the gathering.
"Somehow, I knew I would find you here..."
The familiar voice made her stiffen, head snapping around to eye the golden-haired elf as he strode out of the shadows. "What do you require?" she grumbled, in no mood to deal with her idiot of a lord.
"I see all the politeness has vanished with the party."
"Of course, I simply do not wish for there to be gossip after events such as these ones," she said, glaring at him as he took a seat at the side of the bed she way lying upon. "The House of the Golden Flower does have a reputation to uphold."
"That we do," he murmured.
"Speaking of the party, are you not meant to be there...?"
Glorfindel tilted his head, humming as he stared out of the window and up at the moonlight. "I should be, yes... but I think I would much rather enjoy some peace and quiet with you..."
She stared at him, eyebrows raised in surprise. "Suit yourself."
"That I will," he whispered so softly she barely heard.
"Are you ready, my lady?" Elrohir asked, taking his stance, but no sooner than he had done that, a loud bell rang out across Imladris. The twins stiffened, and Anna's brow furrowed at the concerned glances they shared. "I think this duel will have to be postponed," he said, putting both his and her swords back on the rack, hurrying through the corridors. "Come."
"What is the matter?" she questioned, biting her lip as they all but ran through the halls.
Elladan didn't answer her question, instead asking his own. "Anna, how are your healing skills?"
"Basic at best."
"Well, at least you have some training," Elrohir mumbled. "You can assist me and my brother – our father has trained us in the healing arts, though we will not take on too difficult of cases."
Anna blinked in confusion. "What is going on?"
"That bell..." Elladan said, leading her through yet another set of hallways. His face grim as they arrived outside the Halls of Healing. "It means a patrol has returned with numerous severe injuries."