The Training of the Blood-Guard - Dar

[Saeren]

Built close to the palace, those who were chosen from the ranks of the soldiers of the city state to become Saerens personal soldiers were housed and trained.

[Saeren]

.... " Drink the wine. Drink it, or I will force it down you, '' His hand, in Legolas' disheveled pale hair tightened enough to draw back his head. '' You will not fade, you just think you will . '' When the cup was empty he set it aside. '' You cannot fight me, Legolas Thranduilion, only with me. Would your father accept you back in Mirkwood? After this? Not knowing what was in your mind? And besides, cun lend nin , I do like to reward those loyal to me. And Lebennen ever has been . Quite a nasty wound you gave him, back in the Pelennor Fields. But I had pity, I allowed you to see out Aragorn Elessars life, before taking you. '' The impossibly golden eyes were like polished coins.
He traced his slim fingers through blood and drew them across Legolas' face, forcing apart his lips. '' That is your innocence, cunneth , I always enjoy taking that . That is one thing my father never understood -he only knew how to hate, how to induce fear - he never had the finesse to corrupt, which is so much more poetic, don't you think, '' he gave a low laugh, and rose , releasing the long hair. '' I never hurt you that much, you will heal - and then the other training commences, my Sinda . '' With a glittering smile, he walked to the door, and swung it open, then the door crashed back and the great key turned . Outside, he nodded to Lebennen.
'' What fun. But you will have to let me break him first, before you enact your revenge, Lebennen. As soon as the anger overcomes his grief, he will fight me like a wildcat, '' His smile shone. " Fun, " he said again, as he strode away.

[Lebennen]

Lebennen strode out to the practice yard. This lay behind the villa, enclosed by a high wall, and from that had been - recently - built barracks, and eating areas , common rooms for the warriors Tar would purchase.
The floor was sand, and not empty, one person was practicing and Lebennen paused.

The figure, naked but for a pair of dark breeches, laced at the knee, was at the ' tree. ' This was actually a great block of wood, rising vertically from the ground, but with smaller horizontal ' branches ' protruding at different angles all along its height, from the ankle to far above the head. The splinters showed where it had been struck by blades, but now the warrior was a blur of steel as his two knives moved up, down to each side with a snap-snap-snap, as the blades struck wood.
All elves were usually slender, but this one had flat, wide shoulders and toned muscles, pale gold hair, held back by braids touched his neat buttocks, the fair skin which could be seen as he moved, held fading marks, and bruises.

Lebennen felt no pity - he had been there, - he concentrated on watching the elf move, with now and again, a brief, approving nod. He knew, if he were honest with himself, why he hated this elf. He had been born among Men, learning of the elves only through warring against them, and second hand. Half-elf himself, and trained in a hard, hard school, yet he still felt something missing from his life. And this elf-prince, friend of Aragorn, the great Heir of Isildur, was famed, son of a King, undoubtedly spoiled, and pampered, his life easy. And yet a true warrior born, for Lebennen had seen him in action, as he came off the Black Ships with Aragorn.

' You have to learn not to fight with anger, it allows errors in, ' he said after a while.

[Legolas]

Legolas spun, his heart beating faster than it had while he was practicing, until he saw who it was . His eyes narrowed, meeting the bright , cold ones which showed so pale grey they were almost white-ice, but saw in them only what he saw in Saerens, - perhaps something else though, perhaps, somewhere, a hint of understanding, not pity, but empathy.
'' Is that what he taught you? '' he said, all ice. The tattoos were similar, to Saerens but with subtle differences, perhaps a mark of rank. He went to reach for his shirt, to cover the marks on his skin pulling the fine lawn of it over his head, wincing slightly at unhealed , torn muscles, for he had fought - until all fighting became pointless. And yet he had found within himself the will to fight against one he knew, was stronger than he, and darker than he had suspected, all hidden under charm. He knew now he had been trapped, but not why, but that his anguished heart had lowered all his barriers and let Saeren in to snare his mind.

[Lebennen]

'' He taught me... everything, '' Lebennen said, drawing his scimitars, not striking, but feeling the balance as he had a thousand , thousand times,. '' .. he rode into the encampment of the Easterlings, long ago, which smelled like every human camp everywhere - the streets mud in the winter, dust in the summer, mixed with excrement of dogs , humans, sheep, cattle, trodden into the tents and hovels, stinking and disease ridden.... all in black, a velvet cloak, like nothing I had ever seen, beautiful, and... deadly and smooth as thie polish on this blade, and dark, fascinating... you felt that too, we all do. And he took me away from that, and bound me to him, opened a whole world to me. I would not change it, an I could. Nor will you, one day, Elf Prince '' the last two words were cold.

[Legolas]

'' I already know all I need to! '' Legolas voice was taunt with anguish, '' The stars opening in the vaults of heaven over the northern beechwoods of Mirkwood, lantern-light falling over the tapestries in the Halls of my father, harpsong to greet the summer sunrise, the trees bending with the wind, the voices of my people lifted in song to Elbereth - I do not need to be taught more! '' He swung away, pacing the compound like a caged lion, restrained not by walls, but by the marks he bore within and without, Tars voice telling him that his father would disown him ....his own shame... and he had been leaving, sailing.... he knew his heart could not have survived Aragorns loss, so why did he not now just lie down and fade? Why should he fight? Why was he fighting at all?

[Lebennen]

'' You know... that's the trouble with the Firstborn, they end up thinking there was nothing left to learn, '' Lebennen said. '' Unlike humans, who seek after all knowledge with a great thirst for it -which is why they will indeed take over the world, - if they are allowed.
He was ....gentle with you, believe me, or you would be dead - 'You feel shamed because you could not fight, pretty elf-prince, at least, not in any way that helped. Your life never encompassed such things before, did it? '' he shook his long black hair, and laughed a little. '' He has work to do - one way or another you will join him in that - or you will release your hold on life and die of shame. And that , Prince, is the cowards way out. Here, '' he tossed Legolas the swords. '' Practice with these , your knives are good for close fighting, but all Saerens warriors will all use twin scimitars

[Legolas]

Between the toss of the scimitars and catching them Legolas sheathed back his own in a swift, blurred move, caught the new hilts almost reflexively - he could weild the longer swords of the Elves, but the knives were his preferred choice. Like Lebennen, he tested the balance, and then the blaze came back into his blue-violet eyes.
'' You have left yourself unarmed. '' he said, moving even as he spoke in a sidways slash with one blade, crossways and down with the other.

[Lebennen]

Lebennen's brief nod indicated that yes, he knew he had left himself weaponless - purposefully, - he could see the Wood-Elf could use his long knives, and by the way he handled the scimitars, these would present no problem - he desired to see how Legolas moved and fought - and what he knew about unarmed combat, when the body itself is a weapon.
He did not remain still, only a fool would stand before those hissing, lethaly sharp blades, but as he had been taught over so long, he looked at the way Legolas' muscles moved, his stance, gauged his reach , the strength behind it, and from it, calculated exactly how far to move and how fast. he flung himself back, into an acrobats roll, coming up on the downsweep of Legolas's blades, seeing him catch his balance almost brutally , realising he was wasting the stroke. Lebennen spun to the left, one foot coming up, to catch Legolas behind the knee

[Legolas]

Legolas saw the move, his pale hair billowing as he turned with it, like a mirror, using the flat of his blade to slap against Lebennens booted leg. This was new to him. Elves fought Orcs, unless they were old enough to remember fighting against Morgoths Easterlings in the Eldar Days
Occassionally, since then, they met Dunlendings, or outlaws, - but in all their history, they had mostly fought orcs, and uruks, the twisted begettings of Morgoth, which once were as they.
Orcs were cunning, but their fighting style was easy to read, this was something new. Purely deadly, and graceful. He read a smile in the ice grey eyes, which made his anger bloom, he threw down the scimitars into the sand.

[Saeren]

Saeren walked out into the training ground. He walked as he always did, he walked as if he owned Arda, but unconsciously, it was his entrance that was calculated, to throw Legolas into such a spasm of hate and dread and shame he lost all control - a test.
'' Unarmed combat, Legolas Thranduilion? '' he asked, with a timbre to his words whcih made them say something utterly different - and that also, was perfectly calculated. This was all training, and also to him, a game.

[Legolas]

Legolas's reaction was such that it looked as if a sheet of flame swept through him, the blazing emotions palpable , like heat from an oven door.
Perhaps some-one older would have controlled it, perhaps some-one younger would have collapsed with the pain of it, but Legolas did neither, he span from facing Lebennen , straight into a run, to attack Saeren, his hands flying to the sheaths on his back, to draw his knves, wanting to be close when he killed him, to feel the blows as keenly as he could, then to steady and break himself, his boots skidded sideways across the sand like some-one sliding down a sand-dune, one blade sweeping up, the other down and across towards the groin. His grief was not forgotten, but it was thrust , for a time, into a secret and guarded part of his heart, allowing his rage to strain and break free.

[Saeren]

The only part of him which moved, was his arms, Elves were fast - humans could be trained to be fast, but some-one with Ainur blood, who had poured that gift into battle skills, could hardly be seen , since they could move so fast that apparently nothing crossed the intervening space.
One moment he stood, and the next his hands gripped Legolas's wrists, stopping the blades a hairsbreadth away from his own body, both of which would have severed arteries. His face was close to Legolas' as he looked into the blue eyes.

'' Control the anger, Wood-Elf, '' was all he said, feeling the iron hard muscles of Legolas, locked in pure hatred, tremors shivering through him . '' Control it and fight cold. Your anger clouds you, ''

[Lebennen]

Lebennen watched, with a hidden smile. Although circumstances were different, had he not been through almost exactly the same, so long ago? Willingly he had gone with Saeren, not realising what that would mean, his young body, still growing, pushed to limits that made every muscle scream, made exhaustion blanket his mind. Saeren was no easy master. But when, - if - one came through the fire, it was as reforged steel, and the bonds complete, Saeren bound through his own brand of dark charm and charisma. Although , as Saerens Lieutenant, he also had ultimately served Morgoth and then Sauron, it was Saeren who was his true and only lord.
Much of him desired to see Legolas break. He had long desired that, another part appreciated that he was fighting , and his skills, even for an elf.. were remarkable.
'' As you fought on the Fields of the Pelennor, '' Lebennen murmured.

[Legolas]

Legolas dark brows drew together briefly, then he turned , as one of the warriors in training walked towards him, his swords already out, attacking, as he was obviously ordered to , with no warning.
Legolas dropped one shoulder, dodging a thrust, and followed the move with a perfect riposte, the wicked steel entering the mans shoulder ... and then with the other blade, his face set, he slashed the edge across the mans throat and he fell. he turned, to make the cross-sweep saltute of the Blooodguard, to Lebennen and Saeren.

Under the hot sun, the black tattoos spiked, swirled over his arms, under the leather vest, disapearing down his back. His long hair was almost silver under the bleach of the sun , his eyes appearing violet - deep with hidden emotions.

If he ever looked back, in latter years, he did not know how any-one could have survived the cruel , brutal training, the pushing and pushing until even the strongest Elven body cried out for rest, the woundings, the long hours without water, on blood soaked sand, the useage of different weapons, making his body a weapon of itself... and learning to kill - mercilessly.

The other things.. he could not think of at all, he had to blank them out to remain sane - The training he would always have survived.... the other things he participated in, was forced to endure, his soul could not, except by retreating, and leaving this golden, tattooed, pale haired shell