A drabble written as a follow on to 'First Time.'
With her wonderful hair scraped back, and eyes glittering threat through the slits in her warrior's helm, where was the shy maiden he had so admired?
Elladan lunged his sword, but the long-fanged lynx on her shield bit at it with fearsome accuracy. The jolt travelled up his arm and sent his already tender head spinning.
Sparring with prospective shield-maidens was not to be taken lightly, or on top of a drinking session with Gimli. Now he knew why Éomer had looked so smug refusing the wine.
The gong sounded. Elladan bowed.
"Your turn," he said to his brother, smirking.