Pelennor Awaits [Narbeleth]

[Narbeleth]

“As I learned from my mother not to talk back to her. It stings thereafterward,” Beleth answered as the man helped her. She allowed his hand upon her arm, as it pleasantly helped relieve the pain; though it did more for her heart than her arm. She bit her lip, almost pulling away at the remembrance of Miriel’s words. “Do not let the man too close to you… Not too quickly… Until you are sure of his intentions.” Then again, he was treating her kindly at the moment, his intentions seeming to simply put her at ease.

Beleth was certain that there was no foul motive in all of Calon’s heart, for he was fair of soul! She looked up at the man’s eyes. No, nothing foul motive whatsoever. Miriel though had been so insistent! She had even cried as she spoke to her younger sister of it. If one thing could set the heart of Narbeleth into grief, it was the tears of her own family, and she had to admit that her sister did have a point. Miriel had thought herself to be likehearted to Durion. But it had not turned out so. Thank the Valar! The woman could not help thinking such, even as she recalled Miriel’s brokenhearted tears in the night. Durion was no good for her sister, or for anyone at that matter. But again, Miriel’s point had been taken, and impulsive as young Narbeleth was, she could not let her heart rule her at all times. Better for to put her family at content, and truly take time to judge the man’s character.

Her eyes had been on Calon the whole time; oh handsome he was! Yet, her ears had not heard everything he said. “Like a friend…” the woman repeated capriciously. If such an instrument was a friend indeed to Calon, it had not been yet to her! She eyed the reddened mark on her arm and rubbed it slowly before looking back up to the man. She had been lost in thought a bit though, and missed some of his instruction, still not understanding the proper grip. Beleth watched Calon take his stance, nock the arrow, and draw back. Then it flew straight and true to the target. “Perfect,” the woman muttered as the dust cloud shot up. He made it seem so easy! So confident was he, and confident in her as well. Perhaps if she changed her stance slightly though, it would not be so much trouble.

“Now, let you try again, and I shall help.”

“Well then, my huntsman, you must show me how it is done,” Beleth announced, taking the arrow in hand. “I’m sure that I should never ask for a finer instructor.” The woman clasped the arrow in her hand and looked at it for a moment, before glancing back up to the man; her eyes glimmering with a coming pleasure, and as she began to take her stance once more, she sang, her voice light in the open air.

“ I shot an arrow into the air,
It fell to earth, I knew not where;
For, so swiftly it flew, the sight
Could not follow it in its flight.

I breathed a song into the air,
It fell to earth, I knew not where;
For who has sight so keen and strong,
That it can follow the flight of song?

Long, long afterward, in an oak
I found the arrow, still unbroke;
And the song, from beginning to end,
I found again in the heart of a friend.”

As she finished she took a breath, glancing once more to her stinging arm, but determined, and drew back the string, this time her arm straightened the correct way, and three fingers holding the string. Still not perfect, but who could be perfect at only a second shot? “Like this?” she asked this time, a bit hesitant about firing. She bit down on her lip, knowing that she could only hold her stance for a few moments before her arm would tire.




_{The Arrow and the Song- Henry Longfellow}

[Calon]

“Perfect.”

“Nothing is ever perfectly done,” Calon chimed brightly in response. “Still, I shall enjoy trying to reach it.” He grinned playfully. It was something that the man wholeheartedly agreed with. Or, had until just a few days ago. Perhaps perfection could be found in things. For instance—Beleth, for him, was a perfect match. He simply needed to show her the same thing.

He stepped forward to look over her new stance as she took it, and smiled at her song. “The Nightingale does have a song for everything,” he mused aloud. “And I quite liked that one.” She was certainly trying, and learning quickly. Still, pain was a fine motivator. He presumed she did not wish to snap herself again.

The words rang in his ears: no better huntsman. Well, he did not know of all the huntsman, but he was sincerely pleased she thought him the best. He was quite sure that she was sincere; even though she had not yet seen him hunt. “Well, if you can think of no better tutor for your archery, you shall soon be able to be the best.” He laughed.

She was still a bit off in her stance, and hold. Calon could see even the subtle things that were wrong. Inwardly he smiled to himself as she asked, “Like this?”

“Almost,” he answered, dropping his own bow onto the satchel and moving toward her. His voice was light, and you could certainly hear a bit of amusement at his own motions. He came close to the pretty lady, allowing one of his hands to rest on Beleth’s as she held the bow, the other slipping around her to cover the one upon the string. It was with a great quickness and enjoyment the man used his own arms and hands to fix her own, lips right by her ear as he smiled.

“There,” he said. “Now, aim and see how much better this is,” he was slow, though, to remove his hands. Indeed, once he did he would have to step away. Still, the man finally returned his arms to his side and took a small step backward.

She certainly looked a fine sight with a bow in her hands. Calon couldn’t help but grin boyishly at it. No other woman that he had known had cared to learn archery; though, no other woman ever had held the spirit Beleth did. She was free of heart and mind and thirsted for adventure in the same way he did. Of course her own interests could guide her to such a sport! She was so interesting.

Thoughts flashed to his own family at the moment. His own father and brother would be quite interested in this lovely young lady. And, while his father truly loved his mother, Calon was quite sure he would have desired a lady like this himself, had he met one.

Remlas would certainly be jealous. Though, Calon mused inwardly, who wouldn’t be? Beleth was lovely and bright spirited. Did not every man seek a woman as grand as this?

[Narbeleth]

That she would not go faint! The man had brought his arms around her to position her properly, and what a feeling of security they offered.

Oh, his hands! Were they ever warm and firm, and much larger than her own. She felt heat rising in her cheeks, and she swallowed, though her mouth was dry. Her heart fluttered, and the pulse of her began to speed more quickly. How easily it would be to let herself go and press her body back against the man, or to turn her head and kiss him.

“Now, aim and see how much better this is.” “Yes…” Narbeleth muttered, though it did not make much sense in context of what Calon had said to her. It was all she could draw from her lips, with the feeling of the man’s breath so close to her ear. When he finally removed his hands from her and stepped back, Narbeleth had to close her eyes for just a moment to compose herself. Her arms were beginning to tremble with the taughtness of the bowstring, and she opened them again quickly to aim before she lost the arrow. She held her breath.

The young woman felt much more control this time as her fingers released; the arrow flew straight. Though, it skidded in the dirt before it reached the dirt pile. She had aimed too low, but she did feel more confident in herself now. Simply an adjustment to the incline of the bow, and she would have been able to strike her mark right on sight.

The wind was beginning to pick up, and Beleth’s arm was still raised in follow through, and even after the arrow had stopped, she realized that she was still holding her breath, and she gasped as she lowered the bow, resuming her breathing, which had now become quickened by her previous lack of oxygen. Could she even look at Calon right now? Her freehand raised to grip at her dress above her heart. Calm yourself. He is simply teaching you archery. She closed her eyes for a moment, regaining herself, and then she turned back to Calon, returning a smile to her lips.

[Calon]

Beleth had been taken aback by his actions. Calon was quite certain of it, though did not regret such closeness in the least. Instead he marveled at her little show of nerves. Such a free spirit! Did he truly startle her so? He grinned boyishly to himself as she continued to ready herself for a shot.

And then, she took it.

“Much better,” Calon laughed as he watched the arrow fall short of the target. “Aim a bit higher, Bel. I know it will feel strange at first, but it shall lead your arrow to its mark.” He reached behind himself to grasp another arrow from his quiver and extended it to her again. “Now, try once more.” He smiled.

“Practice is, after all, the only way to get better.” Not that he thought the woman would not enjoy the challenge. Indeed, she seemed as eager to be here as he was. And perhaps the feeling of wishing to be together was within her as well. The thought well pleased young Calon, though he dared utter nothing of the sort about it.

He thought on it a moment as he stood, arrow in hand. “This time, try to get your stance right. I shall check it before you fire,” he added plainly. Indeed, the man would have done this for any student he acquired. Though, this particular student happened to be a lovely young lady. He could, and would, find something wrong that he could go fix. He did not fear her closeness.

[Narbeleth]

Another arrow offered; oh, she was going to make a show of herself it was certain. Beleth swallowed once more, then smiled sweetly, accepting it from the man.

Had he noticed her nervousness? There was a new gleam to his eye; oh he surely had! But he would not say it. And if Calon would say something of it, then she would not either. If he had teased her for it she surely would have had a word to say, but he was not the man to tease, at least in embarrassing circumstances. He had already phrased that.

“Practice is, after all, the only way to get better.” Beleth nodded in agreement, though already the tenseness in her arm was beginning to grow. As a beginning archer, she was not sure how many shots she could fire off before her shoulder’s pained. Though when one was on the hunt, it was only first shot that mattered, she presumed. If you did not strike your mark the first time, you did not catch your prize.

“Right then,” she positioned herself once more. “Open stance… elbow bent… three fingers… draw…” As she spoke she repeated the steps and followed through with the instructions Calon had given her. “Aim higher…” She angled the bow slightly upward. “Shall I do it right this time?” she asked, her eyes gleaming at the dirt pile ahead as if in challenge. Surely her position was correct this time.

Though, archery was a master sport, and one could never accomplish all things at once! Still, her anchor point was off, and her forefinger rested too low beneath her jaw instead of at her cheek. A shot could be made in such a way, but aim would be off. And aim was everything; especially if one was practicing for the sake of the hunt. Though Beleth did not note it, Calon surely would.

[Calon]

The sun was certainly warm, and as he stood, waiting Beleth to take a stance again, the young man began to roll up his sleeves. Indeed, he thought this quite a cooling act, and instantly the man was settled and put more at ease.

It was such a lovely day! He could not get himself over such a fact. It was warm, though now the light breeze was giving them a cool touch to settle the people of the city; though, it would make the shot a bit harder to aim. ‘Watch the breeze,” he mentioned aside. “It shall disrupt your aim a bit. Try to compensate by moving your bow a bit.”

Still, his bright blue eyes watched as Narbeleth began to walk herself through her motions, and smiled slightly as he did so. She was quite a quick learner, and this impressed him immensely. Still, she was not quite perfect. Though, who ever could be? And after two tries alone! “Shall I do it right this time?”

The pleasant man laughed a bit and stepped forward to her. “You are almost there, Bel.” He said lightly. “Raise your hand a bit.” He motioned to the one upon the string, before taking his hand and sliding it upward a bit. “Here,” he said pointedly, letting his fingers graze over hers as he withdrew. “You shall know it is the right spot when you are level with your cheek, here.” His forefinger grazed along, marking her for future reference with an unseen line, eyes and smile bright and cheery.

Oh, if Faeldor had seen such a motion, he surely would have lost his job. Though, the man was quite contented in knowing that he would not know of it.

[Narbeleth]

Oh, here he came again, so near! Beleth so desired the man to be near, yet she needed the space or she was certain that she could not fire. But there he was; he had closed in once more. He was speaking with her again, but Beleth’s attention was focused on the gentle hands once more.

Her lips parted as she sucked in a breath. The man certainly moved his fingers slowly over her hand. By the Valar, he was doing it on purpose. He could see her reaction to it, she knew. Then his hand moved against her cheek, and Beleth’s eyes widened. Oh, she would certainly never forget the line he had drawn there for her anchor point, for it was as if he had burned it into her skin. How did his touch manage to be so soft? Gracious, her heart could not withstand such a pleasurable touch, and she trembled, her eyes closing.

Then, she lost the control and grip she had on her bow. The string was still held fine, but her fingers lost grip on the bow, and as she fumbled it, the arrow rebounded backwards, springing up and bright feathers twirling in the air. Calon, it seemed, was standing too close for it to miss, and is struck him in the arm. It was a training arrow at least, so it did not dig deep, but it did well to graze a moderately daunting cut on his arm before falling to the ground.

“Oh Eru!” the woman said, quickly putting the bow down; though she was so shocked at the moment that she did not know what to do. She clutched at her hair with one hand, and pressed the other palm against her forehead. “Calon! I’ve wounded you!” she said, utterly ashamed and dramatic. She moaned slightly. How dreadful. She was ruining everything.

“Oh, Cal I’m so sorry… Here I’ll… I’ll…” Her self control was entirely gone, and she did nothing but stand before the man, her hands fluttering anxiously to grasp the hurt arm. Though she did not cry, her eyes became damp. He would hate her for it, certainly. She took a breath to calm herself.

[Calon]

She had enjoyed such motions. Calon was quite certain on such ideas as he watched her. Beleth seemed a bit breathless and strained; he imagined it was because a lady was not supposed to enjoy such things, for the sake of propriety. Still, he smiled upon her. He never would have continued and flustered her if she did not enjoy it as much as he did.

Though, perhaps he should have stopped.

It was so quick, the young huntsman didn’t see what had happened. Indeed, one moment it was perfectly fine, and he had in mind to step back and allow her the shot to be taken freely. The next though, the arrow was fumbled, and on its way upward Calon’s arm took a right nice looking cut. Immediately he flinched his arm away.

For a training arrow, it had done some damage. It certainly stung and pained a bit. However, Calon was far too much of a man to not handle such pains and instead, as Beleth seemed to fluster and work herself up over he mistake, he laughed. “Oh, Cal I’m so sorry… Here I’ll… I’ll…” His laughter could not be contained any longer. The woman was working herself up over something that did not truly bother him. Yes, it was uncomfortable. But Calon had plenty of scars upon him. In fact, his mother used to jest with him that he collected them. Well, this was certainly going to be a nice one to add to the collection.

“Bel, do not worry for it,” he said lightly. “At least it was not you. Your brother would have had my job and my hide.” Still, he needed to cover it and cleanse it before doing anything else. Though, her hands upon him entranced him enough that he did not seem to move to do either right away.

It was not as bad as some of the other wounds he had received. The man was quite proud of each, for the story was oft fun to retell and remember. A lovely day of teaching archery to Narbeleth? Well, that was certainly worth remembering.

“Though, you missed your target,” he added playfully, as if to assure her once more he was quite fine. “I do think you should try again.” He looked down to the arrow that had fallen upon the ground beside them. He thought of stooping to lift it for her, but he was not in any desire to relinquish her touch yet. If getting hurt allowed him to feel her hands, well…he would not mind a few more accidents today.

[Narbeleth]

“Why are you laughing!?” Beleth exclaimed, dumbfounded. Was Calon laughing at her, or the entire situation? “I have wounded my tutor. Did you not say any who came in way of my arrow deserved it? I can hardly think of why you deserved that… oh, even the Pelennor are not safe for my aim…” she moaned slightly, still in a bit of a flurried state at having hurt Calon. Was he trying to be manly? Laughing in such a way after being injured.

“At least it was not you. Your brother would have had my job and my hide.” Beleth’s eyes widened, looking about precariously. “Oh, Cal, it as if everything we feared were true. Faeldor very well must have known that your hands did touch me, and willed that arrow to fly as it did. His spies are right quick, aren’t they?” she said, jesting slightly and hoping to lighten her mood.

“Though, you missed your target. I do think you should try again.” “I will try again,” Beleth answered. Now he was jesting with her. Certainly he was used to cuts and scrapes, and he was not upset. At the thought, she held his arm gently, and ran her hand soothingly along the man’s forearm, beginning to smile again as she did so. “But you best keep a pace back from me next time,” she concluded. “That you might not distract me so.”

Beleth bit her lip for a moment, glancing back at the man’s face, but then again to his arm. She should not be so bold to him. It would only encourage him, she was certain; but the woman had never been one to restrain herself easily. “I cannot practice again until this is taken care of,” she said, eyeing the cut. “A huntress should not move onto a new target until the first quarry is tended to,” she added, and with that she held his arm steady with one hand, and grasped the side of his tunic with the other, leading him some paces to where he had dropped the satchel earlier. “Sit down, Cal,” she said lightly, finally releasing his arm and kneeling to rummage in the bag.

Beleth pulled out the skin of water, and undid the wrappings that she had put around the apples to avoid bruising them. Those linens had much better purpose now. Her eyes flickered back over to the man. “Would you have me tend to my victim, or would you rather?” she asked the man testily. She would not wish to overstep her bounds by caring for him, though she would be glad to do so if the man allowed it.

[Calon]

“Why are you laughing!?”

Calon merely laughed all the harder. “Nightingale, do calm down.” He stopped merely long enough to laugh some more. “I am quite fine; if you think this is the worst I have ever received, you are wrong.” He listened though as she lamented some more about how she had injured him.

“Aye, Bel. I deserved it,” he added laughingly. “I was the one that got too close. Your brother is mighty spiteful.” Of course, the man was jesting with the last mention, and his clear blue eyes clearly displayed it. Goodness, the woman seemed ever so distraught over the matter. It was truly not a problem; a little pain lets you know you are alive.

Narbeleth concluded she should try again, though the last thing she said pleased Calon immensely. “That you might not distract me so.” Immediately, his eyes lit up and the man grinned playfully, though his eyes seemed to hold a bit of a seriousness in them. “Do I distract you?” He asked, dropping his voice low to the point where it was almost velvet itself. Indeed, the very idea of such a thing made Calon very pleased. If he distracted the lady, he very well stood a chance with her.

He was sure of it now, more than ever.

This was the woman he would marry. No other would ever do, or compare.

“A huntress should not move onto a new target until the first quarry is tended to.”

Calon burst out into more laughter over such a statement and then asked with a jesting tone, “You plan to finish me, then? I had not known I was game.” The thought struck him as humorous, though the more the man thought on the matter, the more he seemed to find the relation of humans to animals rather interestingly accurate. He, after all, planned on hunting this woman himself. She was not a deer, but a dear; and the huntsman would have to stay patient until the lovely thing was caught. And by caught, she’d have to come willingly. He grinned a bit. Surely she would, eventually. He had a hunter’s patience.

He was ordered to sit down, and her soft hands released him as she turned to rummage through a bag of things she had brought. Clearly, she planned on doctoring him. “Sit down?” He asked, curiously. He was a man, a little wound such as this did not trouble him. The bleeding would stop eventually, after all. Sitting down for such a little thing seemed excessive. Still, part of him did not wish to excite her anger or trouble her. Indeed she was in enough of a flurry, so the man obliged. Though he did his best to make it look like it was his own desire and not hers.

“Well, if you feel as if you can tend to me better,” he grinned, “you may certainly take care of me yourself.” He had no doubt the woman was better with wrapping things and cleaning them. All women seemed to have innate abilities to heal and care for others. Quite a wonder! Still, his glinting eyes were amused that she was so grieved and concerned. It was such a little thing! A scar would be all that was left of it come a few weeks. And it would be one that he would be proud of.

[Narbeleth]

“Do I distract you?” “You had not noticed?” Beleth remarked airily, stifling a laugh, though hardly believing that she had said such a thing out loud. Calon certainly brought out her impropriety! But the pleasant thing was, that he did not seem to mind it. He had not said a thing to chastise her for her words or behavior. “Well then it is good that I told you. Else you do it again when I have some other form of dangerous weapon in my hands.”

Oh, was he pleasant though. All he did was spur her on, it seemed.

“You plan to finish me, then? I had not known I was game.”

“You are a fine catch,” the woman answered brightly. “Now I must dress you, since your blood is already on my hands,” she laughed slightly, referring to him as if he were a beast. After all, he had suggested it. He was indeed not upset in the least, and Beleth was certainly calmed now.

“Well, if you feel as if you can tend to me better, you may certainly take care of me yourself.” “I am glad I have your permission then. If you had said no, I might have done it anyway,” she smiled, kneeling next to Calon, and taking his arm once more. “It is the least that I can do for you anyhow… after you so cared for my wrist the other night,” she grinned fondly at the memory.

Certainly, Calon would have been fine to dampen the cloth and press it against his own arm. Narbeleth knew as well, for she had tended often enough to Faeldor’s injuries. Men did not wish to look as if they were dependant on a lady for such help. Even little Faelon did his best to evade letting his mother of Beleth tend to the cuts and scrapes of childhood. But as Calon had unnecessarily tended to her wrist, she would unnecessarily tend to his arm.


With all carefulness, she dampened one of the cloths and pressed the wound, sure to be gentle, though even if she would have been rough, she knew that Calon would not have protested. After a moment, she felt that it was not bleeding significantly anymore, and she poured some more of the water over it, dabbing it dry with the cloth, and then taking the other and tying it firmly about his arm. Her work was quite quick and efficient.

“There, my huntsman,” the young woman said tenderly as she grazed her fingertips over the man’s arm. “Now you should be quite mended. And as long as you do not distract me again, I should think that you will be out of harm’s way.” Beleth smiled prettily, letting her hand slide up to the man’s shoulder, and squeezing him slightly. With a slow motion, she continued, bringing those fingertips to Calon’s neck, then tracing the line of his jaw. She let her hand come to rest beneath his chin. Oh the Valar, what amusement she gained from her boldness. But how she enjoyed touching him!

“Well then, Cal,” she said slowly, her eyes sparkling, and her hand still in place. She leaned forward slightly. “It seems that I should try that shot again.” And with that, she released the man, and stood up, returning to pick up the bow and fallen arrow, and placing herself in the proper position, she drew herself ready for the shot, corrected her anchor point, aimed, and released. The arrow flew quite nicely and lodged itself in the dirt, just skimming the top of the dirt pile.

[Calon]

He could distract her. Perhaps he would remember it for later. Calon would certainly enjoy such things; yes, Beleth would certainly receive much attention from the man, though he would not be too forward. Though, what he was doing now would be plenty fine. As long as Faeldor never learned of how close he and Beleth were.

“You are a fine catch.”

“I am glad you think so,” Calon offered brightly. “I am proud to say that none have caught me. Though, you have done quite well, yourself.” He mused for a moment on the thought. Perhaps Beleth was a finer huntress than she realized. Calon had always avoided the ladies. Though, he had never met a lady like this.

Her gentle fingers quickly worked to cover and tend to his arm, and as she did so, he smiled to himself. This had to have been the wound he was enjoying the most. His mother would patch them finely; but nothing like this. Narbeleth was far greater to see healing than his own family. She finished and told him he was well mended. “I am certain your healing has saved me, Bel. I would be quite sure that if you had not taken care of it, I would have bled to death.” He was blatantly jesting, and his blue eyes sparkled enough for the young lady to be quite clear. Though, it was nice that Beleth had been able to care for the wound. Calon had certainly not thought of bringing bandages.

“It seems that I should try that shot again.”

“Yes, you should.” He prodded, though it seemed she did not need it. Indeed the arrow flew true, and it did nick the sand pile. The man was beaming. “Well, Nightingale! You have done it!” She had taken time to remember her anchor point, and her stance had been quite fine indeed. He stood and looked to the pile of sand again. “In such a short time!” He was quite impressed, and the man crossed his arms in amusement.

“Why, if you practice every so often, you shall soon be a fine archer indeed. The Captains shall desire your bow and skill.” He laughed slightly at the thought. His blue gaze turned back to her and he asked, “Do you wish to try once more?” He asked testily. Her arms surely were tired. Perhaps, though, she would like to wander the fields for some time and try again later.

[Narbeleth]

“I am proud to say that none have caught me. Though, you have done quite well, yourself.” Beleth smiled surreptitiously, continuing her ministrations as Calon went on. She did not respond verbally, but perhaps her touch was all the more gentle as she tended to the man’s arm. She had not meant to do… well, whatever it was she had done. The young woman was quite content in her life and her family, and had asked for nothing else. But the Valar had placed him right before her, and she was not about to send him away. He would know that.

“I am certain your healing has saved me, Bel. I would be quite sure that if you had not taken care of it, I would have bled to death.” Her healing had saved him? My was he one for complimenting this day. First he had seemed unconcerned, and now he had been brought from the brink of a severe and painful death. “Saved you!” She exclaimed lightly. “I am certainly glad. I do not know what I should have done had you bled to death. However would I have carried you back to the city?” she grinned, laughing. “And I could not have made it back likewise with these bows without my pack mule.”

The shot had seemed then so easy! Calon’s light encouragement only bade her continue, and that she did. He was full of extol at the end of it. “Well, Nightingale! You have done it!”

Beleth was beaming as she watched that arrow fly, and as Calon praised her, she looked back to him. Her eyes were utterly brimming with joy. “And I struck no human!” Beleth said laughingly. Though she was joked, she did so to cover up her pride, for she was so gleeful that she had done well! Perhaps she would not be so troublesome at archery after all.

This indeed seemed to impress the man, and that also caused Beleth’s smile to widen. His bright blue eyes were charming. “Do you wish to try once more?”

“Yes, Cal, just one more,” she answered. It was true that her arms were getting sore from holding the taught bowstring, yet one more shot she needed! At least just one to prove that the last had not been a fluke. She would not wish to overdo her first day time of shooting though, so after the last, she would let her muscles rest. Perhaps Calon would show her his skill then. She would adore to watch him. Though he had shot one arrow before her, it was only at her short target. She imagined the man had immense distance and precision.

“And I would be too afraid to join the Captain’s ranks. I hope they should never see my skill,” Narbeleth continued as she walked back to Calon to retrieve a new arrow. To think! Even she was glad that none of her family were in the ranks. Minas Tirith was a strong city; and the house of Faelon played it’s part quite well within the city. Beleth could hardly bear the thought of any who she loved out on the lines. The thought of orcs was sickening.

[Calon]

“I am sure you would have had to leave me here, along with all of my things.” He laughed aloud as Beleth commented on saving him. “A pity. That bow,” he motioned to one of the two, the one he had been using earlier, “was my father’s when he was my age. I am sure he would have liked to have it back.” He grinned boyishly some more, and then turned his attention back to the lady as her touches seemed to get softer.

She finished tending to him, and agreed that she had just one more shot left in her. That made Calon all the more cheery. As if his eyes could have sparkled and shone any more! “And I would be too afraid to join the Captain’s ranks. I hope they should never see my skill.” As she was readying herself, he sat still and listened to this comment and smiled a bit more. “Well, then. Be contented to know that you are a woman and they should not whisk you away to put you in their service.” He lingered a bit longer on the soft grasses, figuring it was right to not distract her further and then added as an afterthought, “It would not be the archer’s I would be worried over, leastways. It is far more dangerous to be a foot soldier, or a member of the cavalry.” At least with archery you had a distance between you and your opponent. He imagined that close-contact fighting was ever so much more tricky. Not that the young man would mine learning something of the sort.

He currently had no use for it. Indeed, he was not training to be a member of the service. Though, he knew that if times called for it, he would be called into such a role. He did not mind it too much, though. Calon was not one to truly fear death, though to put it so frankly was not something he did often. It was a simple passing. And if his life could be spent protecting all of Gondor…well…the Halls of Mandos would certainly have the best ground for archery. And he would certainly be able to perfect his skill over an eternity. It was not something he would willingly go chase, though perhaps some of his actions told a different story. At times, he was quite the daring one.

[Narbeleth]

He was correct. The archers did have a better place in battle than any. Close combat was nothing that Beleth wished to know about. She knew naught but how to handle her kitchen knife, and she was fine with that. The carving of vegetables was much more delightful in her mind than the carving of men. “If you should ever be called out, I would be glad that you were an archer,” she answered. In truth, there was a high possibility of any of the able young men such as Calon, and even her brother, to be called out to war. With the way the mountains in the east were brewing such smoke and flame, it was to be certain that it would not be much longer before some decision on the matter was made. At least, if Denethor was a thoughtful Steward. Was it not best to take the enemy before they had increased their strength?

Talk on such a subject was disheartening though, and though she did not find herself in worry over the matter, Calon was a hunter. His bow was for his sport, and she did not wish to think of him upon a battlefield. His eyes were too bright and cheerful for such a thing.

“Grace be that I am a woman,” Beleth smiled, laughing lightly, collecting her last arrow from the quiver. “I should never need enter into the ranks of war. Such is the man’s burden, while women are left to the pain and agondy of bearing children,” she mused for a space as her eyes studied her target and she repositioned herself. She wondered for a moment how her sister Miriel would take such a thing when the time came. Not quietly, that was certain! She sighed inwardly, and nocked the arrow in the bowstring.

Beleth held her breath and aimed, then let the arrow fly. It almost mirrored her previous shot, though just touched the sand pile again. She smiled, satisfied at her attempt. Her arm was weary now though, and she should not take another shot before resting the muscles for a time, she knew well not to strain herself. “Well Cal, you have a few more arrows in that quiver. Before we go to collect the rest, I should love to see your own skill.” J

The young woman moved to sit in the soft grasses beside the man, though she assumed that he would stand and oblige her request. After all he loved the sport, should he not wish to show her what he could do?