Sparring in Rivendell. Ráolor wearing a blindfold
"Again!"
Raolor clenched his teeth and listened. His Warhammer resting on his shoulder, he could hear Losgael moving around him.
Fighting without sight was way harder than he had imagined, if not impossible. He could not see the angles coming. He could estimate speed, and power, and distance. But it was not enough. He could perceive the warmth of Losgael's blood, but it only gave him a sense of general direction, and he lost the sensation once she had moved too far away.
She had improved a lot. Forcing her not to go easy on him, Ráolor now found himself in real danger. She wielded the two handed Hammer with strength and accuracy, giving her former teacher a real hard time.
Losgael charged. The sculptor reacted upon the noise, lifted his weapon up in a desperate parry...
A few Months before. Little Outpost in the Hithaeglir
"Good, good!"
Fingolrin looked pleased. He nodded and gave Losgael a motivating look. The recruit was breathing hard. The small outpost was covered with ice and snow... But well hidden through rocks and stones, it offered a good and safe position in midst of the wilderness. The river was frozen, but the swift stream could be seen through the thick ice, below their feet.
Raolor grumbled. He was checking several blunt sparring weapons. He had not asked for being here, and he did not care for this new recruit who claimed to be ready for Order of Hammer unit. But alas! Lord Tindir had made things clear. He would be coming up to the outpost, and test Losgael's skills. If she was not ready yet, Fingolrin and Ráolor had to spend another week training her.
"Again, fend off my weapon first, go for your strike next!" Fingolrin raised his shield. Losgael nodded, and charged.
Sparring in Rivendell. Ráolor wearing a blindfold
"Come on!" cried the sculptor. The only thing he could see was darkness... Losgael hesitated. She had knocked down her former teacher, and was unwilling to continue the training. This was unacceptable. Ráolor decided to insult her.
"Come on, you slick Falathrim ship sail! Is that everything you have got?!"
Losgael gasped. He heard her charging at him. Good. The insult had worked. He forced himself up to his feet again, and their hammers crossed. This was mere luck, thought the sculptor, but the next moment he felt the shaft of her weapon hitting his thigh. Damn, she had improved. Chainmail and leather lessened the impact, but the strike had unfolded with proper power. Beautiful! Beautiful! Thought the Noldo, while he fell on his knees again. His thigh felt numb.
He heard Losgael moving away again. She was probably a bit unsure about what her former teacher exactly wanted. Time to stand up again, Noldo! thought Ráolor. He slammed the head of his warhammer to the ground, and pulled himself up.
A few Months before. Little Outpost in the Hithaeglir
"No! No! No!"
The sculptor roared. This recruit was as untalented as a Falathrim could be. Lord Tindir would come soon. He would test her fighting abilities, only to find none. They would spent another week in this damned outpost. And so it would continue... they were stuck here forever. He would not return to Imladris, and he would not see the one he was most eager to see again....
Losgael lowered the head. She looked spent.
"Do you want to enter The Order of Hammer?" the Noldo shouted. Fingolrin sighed, and went to check the supplies.
"Yes." Losgael cheeped.
"Then DO as you are told! Again!"
Ráolor raised the shovel and charged at her. There was no point in being soft and forgiving. Only the strong, only the merciless were able to meet the enemy in battle and be victorious. There was no place for weakness. Hammerites were no ordinary soldiers. Hammerites were weapons, forged and perfected for killing.
Losgael parried the first strike in a desperate attempt. The second strike of the shovel hit her shoulder, hurling her to the side and into the snow.
Sparring in Rivendell. Ráolor wearing a blindfold
Ráolor heard Losgael's warhammer buzzing through the air. Beautiful! He thought, and couldn't help to smile. With power correctly created, large and long weapons made a buzzing sound when they were swung. The sculptor tried to fend off the attack, but he missed. Something massive slammed his chest... he felt as if being hit by a battering ram, pushed by thirty men. Although the heavy armour absorbed parts of the terrible impact, he heard the splintering of chainmail and cracking of plates. He did not mind taking heavy blows on his body, he had been doing this for many hundreds of years... Still, he was knocked down on the ground, but all he was feeling was pride and happiness... His former student had become so proficient!
He knew, he might find himself soon in such a situation. Tired, injured, knocked down, blind, perhaps surrounded by many foes. This was the moment to push the limits of body and mind.
A few Months before. Little Outpost in the Hithaeglir
"She will never be ready! It's hopeless!" Ráolor kicked a group of icicles. They broke apart with a bright noise.
"Patience, brother. She needs to rest a bit." Fingolrin glanced at Losgael, who was sitting next to the campfire, shivering.
"It is a waste of time. She will never be a Hammerite." Ráolor gestured.
"I am so close to give up, brother. No matter what I say - she cannot even execute one single proper blow!"
Fingolrin nodded. He looked at his brother-at-arms.
"Let us give her some time to rest for now. We shall continue after this. I believe she can do it."
Ráolor sighed. How could Fingolrin have such a firm belief? Certainly, he was noble, and kind-hearted, and firm of will, and the sculptor admired him for that. Without Fingolrin, he would have been lost in this outpost, he was sure of that.
Sparring in Rivendell. Ráolor wearing a blindfold
The sculptor drilled his fingers into the ground. "Grab the earth!" he thought, and he pulled himself towards his hammer. Indeed, Losgael had her revenge, for all the hard time he had given her in that outpost, several months ago. He and Fingolrin, they had forged a new Hammerite. The revenge was just.
"Get up, Noldo. Get on your feet!" thought the sculptor, and clenched his teeth. He pulled himself up, using his hammer. But he lost his balance... and fell again. Damn it, he thought. You can do better. Summon forth all strength. You are a weapon, forged to smite down the enemies of Middle Earth. Forged to fight for the Eldalië.
The images helped. He felt his blood moving strong and hot through his veins... with the Hröa instantly filled with new vitality, he rose again. He was standing in front of his former student, stumbling, but still on his feet.
Time had come for another insult.
"Come at me, you seashore letter opener! Is that the best they were capable of in the Falas?!"
With an angry shout, Losgael charged. The sculptor would regret his words.
A few Months before. Little Outpost in the Hithaeglir
"The Order of Hammer is about being able to do things INSTANTLY. In combat, there is no time for discussions. In order to train the intent, we try to execute things as fast as possible."
Ráolor gazed at Losgael.
"Ready?"
She nodded.
"Alright. JUMP into the water over there, NOW!"
There was a small pool where the ice had not yet covered the river.
Losgael gasped for air, but she followed. With lightning speed, she jumped into the icy water.
Things had improved. She had been moving around quickly while fighting Fingolrin, parrying his attacks. She outsmarted Ráolor a few times, and destroyed his shovel. The sculptor switched to a proper sparring hammer.
With each strike, more power was unleashed. Her Warhammer had begun to buzz.
In the end, Lord Tindir came. He sparred with Losgael. He was very content. This was the day they returned to Imladris.
Sparring in Rivendell. Ráolor wearing a blindfold
"Do not tell the healers."
Losgael nodded, and left him.
Ráolor was leaning against a tree, beaten and spent. In the end, he had managed to close the distance between him and Losgael. He had wrestled with her, and disarmed her. The only way of surviving a battle blindfolded was to close the distance, and to wrestle.
But now the sparring time was over... he could not afford too severe injuries.
I bet you would delight in seeing me like that, Undomion, he thought with a grin.
Losgael returned with bandages. Ráolor closed his eyes.
