The Angry Smush

Beleg: Come on you can’t make everyone like you, you’re not Turin

I love the whole concept that all the mortals by the late third age have this idea of elves as these serene, calm, wise and peaceful beings. Like at the council of Elrond and the like they all see the elves as inherently great givers of advice with the bigger picture at heart. Imagine if someone from then read a book on the first age. Like Faramir being exposed to Elrond’s records after he leaves for Valinor and thinking are these really the same species? Why are they setting everything on fire? Was the founder of Numenor really raised by these people? Did the calm lord Elrond really hold a knife to that guys throat? They are all completely feral and bloodthirsty and possess no basic judgement skills. Frodo getting to Valinor and being invited to a party at Finrod’s house. Expecting a deep cryptic discussion on lore and feeling out of place among all these dignified ethereal legends. And like ten minutes in people are playing drinking games with knives and fire. Frodo expects Lord Elrond to be shocked at his relatives behaviour but finds him in a knife throwing competition with the former high king. He seems to be winning. He also sees what seems to be two high kings making out in the stairwell. His last hope is Galadriel whose now in an intense bar fight with three of her cousins. Her husband is cheering her on from the corner.

Ithilbor smiled and handed back the sword, which Saeros sheathed in favour of a practice sword.

Beleg cleared a little space for them, then drew his own sword and waited for Saeros to be ready - it occurred to him that he had never actually seen Saeros fight, but if he volunteered without complaint, he must be able to hold his own.

"Ready."

For once, Beleg had no thoughts of showing off for the spectators. It was better that they got a realistic look at what an elf could do with a sword. He evaded the first strike, in much the same way he would when demonstrating a move to a recruit. This wasn't that different, was it?

Parrying with the point of Beleg's sword right by his chin, Saeros had to dance to get out of the way and ready his response. He cut up to Beleg's left. He'd thought to narrate but there was no time for that. Already he was secretly wishing for his spear, but that was the exact opposite of the point they wanted to make.

Saeros' sword jolted out of his hand and span off into the trees.

Ithilbor smiled and handed back the sword, which Saeros sheathed in favour of a practice sword.

Beleg cleared a little space for them, then drew his own sword and waited for Saeros to be ready - it occurred to him that he had never actually seen Saeros fight, but if he volunteered without complaint, he must be able to hold his own.

"Ready."

For once, Beleg had no thoughts of showing off for the spectators. It was better that they got a realistic look at what an elf could do with a sword. He evaded the first strike, in much the same way he would when demonstrating a move to a recruit. This wasn't that different, was it?

Parrying with the point of Beleg's sword right by his chin, Saeros had to dance to get out of the way and ready his response. He cut up to Beleg's left. He'd thought to narrate but there was no time for that. Already he was secretly wishing for his spear, but that was the exact opposite of the point they wanted to make.

웃

웃

Ithilbor smiled and handed back the sword, which Saeros sheathed in favour of a practice sword.

Beleg cleared a little space for them, then drew his own sword and waited for Saeros to be ready - it occurred to him that he had never actually seen Saeros fight, but if he volunteered without complaint, he must be able to hold his own.

"Ready."

"I thought we had an agreement," Beleg complained, the practice sword in his hand, "Weapons for wine - come now, you got the wine, so come and practice. It really isn't that different."

"I have no doubt of your skill," Beleg replied, as diplomatically as he could manage in his frustration. "But skill will not help when the enemy comes armoured in plate and chain. Will you do not even try it?"

Ithilbor smiled and handed back the sword, which Saeros sheathed in favour of a practice sword.

"I thought we had an agreement," Beleg complained, the practice sword in his hand, "Weapons for wine - come now, you got the wine, so come and practice. It really isn't that different."

"I have no doubt of your skill," Beleg replied, as diplomatically as he could manage in his frustration. "But skill will not help when the enemy comes armoured in plate and chain. Will you do not even try it?"

thegreatstrongbow

"I do not know what to do." It wasn't fair. Mablung did not seem so haunted by the battle, or at least, it was easier for him to hide- why was Beleg so different?

Saeros waited, but nothing happened. Standing up he shook his head and muttered: "words. All of you. You jump into action maybe once in a decade, and then stand around talking otherwise!

Someone brighter than Beleg may have realised that Saeros' anger was genuine, but Beleg was a little more innocent still, and saw only a friend trying to encourage his courage.

Taken aback, Saeros laughed. He'd expected to be rebuked but Beleg was always on the people's side.

thegreatstrongbow

"I do not know what to do." It wasn't fair. Mablung did not seem so haunted by the battle, or at least, it was easier for him to hide- why was Beleg so different?

Saeros waited, but nothing happened. Standing up he shook his head and muttered: "words. All of you. You jump into action maybe once in a decade, and then stand around talking otherwise!