Character: Estel and Elrohir
Disclaimer: Tolkien made Middle-earth… Kortirion filled in a wee space.
Thrust, parry, attack, step, parry...
“Keep the point up!”
Estel’s arm ached, but doggedly, he kept going.
Estel wilted before the flurry of steel as his brother pressed home an attack.
“Listen to the blades whisper, gauge their argument.” Elrohir flicked his sword up, over and drew a tiny bead of blood on Estel’s unpadded arm.
“Never assume your enemy will play fair!”
Estel winced, he set his lips... lunged... but all he found was empty air – before the flat of a blade whacked his backside.
“You’ll thank me for this later...” laughed his foster-brother.
Years later – Aragorn did.