Author: Anyone in the training grounds
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Date Posted: 14:55:20 06/25/02 Tue
Keth turned his head as Lómódë emerged from the barracks, combing her fingers through her still-damp hair. She had chosen to borrow breeches and a shirt from Falden, the youth closest to her in height and build, rather than go back up to the palace for a change of clothes, explaining that she didn't really feel comfortable in dresses anyway. Privately, Keth agreed. She looked far more approachable dressed as they were, with unbound hair falling uncontrolled wherever it pleased and a smudge of ash on one cheek, accentuating her carved cheekbones and delicate nose. Legolas too looked less like an elven prince and more like a handsome young warrior in the modest garb. With the change in attire seemed to have come a change in his attitude as well- he was more relaxed around them, more willing to laugh and joke.
It didn't take long for Lómódë to involve herself in a heated discussion with Targan on the merits of footed arrows over rankling arrows. Surprisingly, the girl knew what she was talking about. Even more surprisingly, she was managing to out-argue the great talker himself. Targan was struggling, and realised it. His attack turned to defence, then simply a desparate struggle to save face under her barrage of words. Keth smiled at the sight. Targan was his friend, but Gods, he deserved being taken down a peg or two sometimes.
Finally Targan gave in.
"I admit it. You win."
He paused, then looked back slyly.
"Windbag."
She looked at him in mock outrage amidst laughter.
"Are you going to let him get away with that?" Keth teased Legolas. "Aren't you supposed to be defending her honour?"
"What honour?" he laughed, before adding slightly more seriously, "Do you think she'd thank me for it?"
He cast a glance at her out of the corner of his eye. "My Lady here would probably have my ears if I tried to defend her."
"Coward." Keth jibed.
"Not a coward, just prudent. I know what's bravery, and what's just folly. Upsetting her is just stupidity."
"I'm more than capable of defending my own honour if necessary." Lómódë spoke up, scowling at the pair of them.
"Is that so milady? You care to prove it?"
"Of course!"
"Fine then, you can duel Keth." spoke up Sircyn. "He'd beaten most of us by the time the fires started; he can be our champion."
"And if I beat him?"
"Why, you will have the pleasure of beating me." Keth told her, raising her hand to his lips to kiss it.
"If you win?"
He decided to try his luck. "I get to take you out for dinner."
Legolas glowered silently at the cries of 'Not fair!' from the other warriors. Why did Lómódë not seem to mind the dark-haired Keth's shameless flattery? Whatever he said to her, she never turned a hair.
"Then I must ensure that I don't fail." she smiled, reclaiming her hand. She looked around at the others.
"I'll need a sword."
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