YOU CANNOT TELL ME YOU DO NOT HAVE SELFISH INTENTIONS IN WANTING MY SON ON A SHIP WITH YOU.

All of Númenor was scrambling and trying to prepare for the upcoming journey to Middle-Earth. They weren't exactly prepared for a war, meaning everyone was working overtime to ensure there were enough supplies, weapons, and armor for both the humans and the horses that would be taken with them.

Galadriel and Nimriel were surprisingly busy as well, helping to oversee battle strategy plans and helping out anyone that was overwhelmed — and a lot of the Númenoreans were overwhelmed. There wasn't any more time for exploring the island or getting to know the locals unless you counted the soldiers they met while preparing to leave.

They'd seen very little of Halbrand in the last few days. He was getting plenty of use with his new Guild Crest, working overtime in one of the many forges that were making weapons as fast as they could, suddenly having to arm five hundred soldiers. Even now, two days before the ships were to leave and most of the kingdom was sleeping, he was working tirelessly to make swords and daggers.

That was where Nimriel found him, working alone in the forge with only the red fire in the furnace providing him light. She was silent for a moment, watching as he hammered away at the blade of a dagger, the metal glowing a bright yellow color from the temperature. All she could hear was the rhythmic clang that followed each hit against the metal.

Of all the things she should've been thinking about her friend, it shouldn't have been about how handsome he was. Halbrand's hair was pulled back out of his face, and he was covered in a thin layer of sweat and grime from working so hard. Nimriel swallowed thickly as she eyed his bare, muscular forearms that were shown off from his rolled-up sleeves.

It was embarrassing how she hardly noticed when he stopped hammering at the blade.

"What are you doing out so late, Princess?" Halbrand asked while moving the dagger to a different anvil that had several tools he could use to bevel the edges.

Nim startled a bit and her eyes quickly snapped from his form that she was so clearly admiring and to his eyes. He glanced up at her with a smirk, raising a cocky eyebrow, knowing very well how she'd been eying him.

"I, uh, have not seen you for a few days," Nim said, coming a little closer to him. She could feel the heat coming off the furnace as she did. "I wanted to check on you — see how you're settling in."

"Well enough," he told her, looking back down at the weapon he was making. "They're happy to have my help given the new circumstances."

"Just how many of the weapons have you made this week?" she asked curiously. She had heard from other citizens that Halbrand was putting out swords at an impressive — and almost inhuman — rate. And evidently, no one thought the work was lacking either. "I've only heard amazing things about your craftsmanship."

"Sounds like someone is trying to flatter their way into a new sword," Halbrand said teasingly.

Nimriel scoffed and ended up standing across from him. "I have the perfect weapon, I'll have you know," she said, nodding to the trident strapped to her back. She'd been carrying it everywhere since Elendil returned it.

"I don't see how one could fight gracefully on land with the likes of that," he said, eying the weapon that was meant for catching fish in shallow waters. Then Halbrand set his tools down and walked around the anvil, reaching her side. She let him take the weapon off her and watched as he tested the weight and turned it in his hands a few times. "It's incredibly lightweight," he noted.

"Most of our materials are. You do not wish to be weighed down in the depths," she explained.

Halbrand removed one of his thick gloves by biting the tip of the fabric covering his middle finger and pulling it off. Then he began to feel around the pointed prongs, finding them so sharp that he didn't even feel it when his finger was cut.

"Damn," he muttered, watching the blood flow. He glanced down at her with his eyebrows drawn in. "What is this made of? It is not regular gold or steel."

As she spoke, Nim also gently took his hand to inspect the cut. It wasn't bleeding much and was already slowing down. "It is not a common ore," she told him. "Sea Elves have mines just as Dwarves do up here. There is one underneath the mountains of what I think is called Khazad-dûm. The closest thing to call it in your language is 'glittering steel'. It was mixed with gold for my trident, as was my body armor, though the rest of it is back home. It's impenetrable — unbreakable."

"Glittering steel," he muttered, looking deep in thought over the odd mineral.

That dark thought was quickly pushed to the back of his mind and replaced with one much darker when Nimriel placed the tip of his index finger in her mouth, sucking on it lightly to get all the blood off. Whether she did it on purpose or not, she dared to look up at him with wide, seemingly innocent eyes while pulling his finger from her mouth which had his whole body growing tight.

"You should be fine," Nim said, looking at his finger, satisfied when no more blood pooled to the surface. "And as you can see, I do not need one of your swords."

"Perhaps not," he agreed, managing to collect his thoughts. And he also returned her trident. "Though I still think you should carry a dagger or two for extra protection in case you cannot use this."

"Worried about me, Mouth Breather?" she asked teasingly, stepping closer.

"Inordinately so, Princess," he admitted in a low voice, eyes drawn to her lips. He wanted to kiss her. Gods, Halbrand wanted to kiss her, which was a startling thought. But he wouldn't let himself — he didn't deserve it, he told himself. Didn't deserve her.

Nimriel was confused when he moved back, and despite the warmth in the forge, she felt colder with each step away that he took. Her heart dropped into a pit of disappointment, and she was surprised to realize she was disappointed. Because for a moment, she thought Halbrand might kiss her with how he was looking at her lips, and Nim wanted him to in that same moment.

"It's late," Halbrand said, clearing his throat and looking back at the dagger he was making. "You should get some rest. You set out the day after tomorrow."

Nim nodded and looked at the ash-covered floor. "You should too," she whispered, beginning to leave. "You've been working harder than anyone on this island."

☆

All thoughts of Halbrand were gone when Nimriel woke the next morning before first light. She didn't have the time to think about him as final arrangements were being made. The five ships were being loaded with cargo, and the soldiers were scrambling to make sure they were ready for battle.

While Galadriel spent the morning with the Queen Regent, Nimriel was assigned to Elendil for the day, doing whatever she could to ease the burden he was carrying as Captain of the Guard. The first thing on their itinerary was to ensure that things were running smoothly as the ships were being filled.

The pair walked along the harbor, looking on at the countless men working tirelessly to fill the row boats to transport the goods. Nimriel watched in fascination as some kind of contraption lifted horses up with a pulley system and loaded them onto the vessels.

"I think that boat is full enough," Nim told Elendil, nodding to the raft that was piled high with food for their travels.

Elendil nodded in agreement and called out to them. "Enough for that run, lads. Ferry it out now."

Nim smiled and looked around, managing to spot a familiar face at the end of the pier. So, she ended up guiding Elendil toward him as subtly as she could. And once they were near enough, Isildur perked up and slid off the crate he was sitting on.

"Father," he greeted. "Nimriel."

"Isildur," Elendil said curtly, hardly looking his way.

"May we speak?" Isildur asked him, looking hopeful.

But Elendil just kept walking and ignored him, already knowing what it was about. It wasn't a secret that Isildur had been denied a spot in the army despite being one of the first to volunteer. Nim had already spoken to the man on the matter once, but he wouldn't budge in his decision to keep Isildur in Númenor.

Over being ignored, Isildur threw his head back and let out a groan. Nim smiled at him sympathetically and grabbed his wrist, pulling him along.

"Good morning, Isil," she greeted softly.

"Morning, Nim," he said, managing to smile softly at her. No matter how bad a mood he was in, he was convinced he'd always have a smile for her.

They followed Elendil to a covered area where he was keeping the list of everything that needed to be on those ships before they set off. There was still much that needed to be checked off as he scanned it, making notes with a featherless quill.

"Why wasn't I chosen for the expedition?" Isildur asked him. It was the last day and his last chance to get on that ship.

"Thought you were going west," Elendil muttered with a sarcastic smile. Nim winced and took a step back, knowing this was between the father and son.

"Not anymore. Not till I've done something worthy of Númenor."

Elendil raised an eyebrow at that. "And what is that? In your words?"

"I don't have words for it. That's why I'm trying so hard to find it," he admitted. "Why I'm asking for your help."

"Wish I could provide it," his father said, shrugging carelessly. "But we've far more volunteers than we could ever hope to accommodate. Half the city wants a spot on those boats."

Isildur moved right to his side and lowered his voice. "Slip me to the front of the line."

Elendil sighed and put the quill in the inkwell to look him in the eye. "What are your qualifications?"

"Qualifications?" Isildur repeated, unable to believe his father was acting like this.

"Do you belong to the Sea Guard?"

Isildur scoffed. "You know I'm twice the sailor—"

"Do you belong to the Sea Guard?" Elendil asked again, raising his voice. "What about the Queen's Guard? Merchant's Guild?"

"This is about uniform," he muttered.

"Horseman's Guild?" he went on.

"You're being absurd," he complained.

"While you were feigning fidelity to the traditions of this isle," Elendil said, grabbing Isildur as he spoke and making him look at the soldiers that were passing, "these men were living them. Finding ways to contribute — to serve. Something of which you evidently care little."

Isildur moved his face closer, speaking in a low, gravelly tone. "I care. I'm ready to serve," he insisted passionately.

"Nothing would make me prouder," he murmured. "But you had your chance. And you made your choice."

When Elendil walked away, Isildur lowered his head sadly. Nim's heart ached for him as she moved to stand next to him.

"Isil," she whispered, grabbing his hand. "We can—"

"Lady Elashor!" Elendil called formally, not wanting her to stay behind. "You've a council meeting I must escort you to. Do not fall behind."

Nimriel sighed at his stubbornness. Before leaving, she at least stood on the top of her toes and kissed Isildur comfortingly on the cheek. "I'll try to find you sometime later."

As she scurried off after the Captain, having to run to catch up and also keep up with his long legs, she didn't see how Isildur lightly touched his reddening cheek. Elendil was clearly upset with his son and the whole ordeal. As soon as Nim opened her mouth, he was speaking over her.

"I do not wish to speak anymore on the subject," Elendil said tersely. But then he contradicted himself by continuing to speak on the subject. "He is far too selfish, impulsive, and thoughtless to send into battle."

"I do not think your son is any of those things," Nim said softly. Then she tilted her head. "Well, maybe a bit impulsive, but Isildur is struggling to find his place in this world. All he knows is that his place is not here in the heart of the kingdom or on the Sea Guard. I believe traveling to Middle-Earth is just what he needs."

"You sound as if you have experience in the matter," he noted, his tense shoulders slacking a bit.

"I do," she admitted. "We're the same, he and I. But instead of asking my father's opinion on the matter of leaving home, I ran away without even saying goodbye. Granted, he's not nearly as good a man as you, but still. He has pushed me away all my life, and now that I am gone, I have not missed him once. If you do not give Isildur the freedom to grow into himself, then he could come to resent you for it."

Elendil looked ahead while thinking her words over. Though he thought she was making some good points, he still did not change his mind. To him, Isildur could only make mistake after mistake, and until he could prove himself as a worthy man, he would not put him on the ships leaving Númenor.

"You offer sound advice, but it does not sway my decision," Elendil told her. Then he slyly cut his eyes to her. "And you cannot tell me you do not have selfish intentions in wanting my son on a ship with you."

"I haven't a clue what you mean," Nimriel said, avoiding looking at him. If she were, she'd see the smirk he was adorning as his eyes crinkled.

"You are fond of him, are you not?" he asked. And when Nim's cheeks noticeably heated up, he continued. "He is fond of you as well."

Nimriel only mumbled something incomprehensible in response. Though she had been alive several more years than he had, Elendil could tell how young in the world of Elves she truly was from her response. And she only had the look of a human around Isildur's age or maybe even a year or two younger.

"Young love is nothing to be embarrassed about," Elendil told her, not hiding his chuckle.

"I - I don't know about love," Nim managed to say breathlessly, her face continuing to burn. "We've not known each other long."

She was ready for the ground to swallow her whole. Having this conversation with Isildur's father felt like a nightmare though. Especially because she knew she did have feelings for the boy, even if she wasn't sure how strong.

The problem was that Isildur wasn't the only one that had wormed his way into her heart — even if her affection for Halbrand crept up on her at a slower pace.

"Love is as changing and swift as the tides, My Lady," Elendil said with a smile. "Within the first twenty-four hours of meeting his mother, we had shared a kiss, and I asked to court her. We hardly knew each other, and yet letting myself fall so easily was the best decision I could make, as it gave me more precious time with her."

"It sounds as if you're quite the romantic, Captain," Nim said, smiling up at him.

"It's my best-kept secret," he said teasingly. "And do not ever tell Isildur I've given this advice. He'd never live it down."

"Well, I don't see how I can tell him when he won't be joining us," she muttered under her breath.

Elendil rolled his eyes. "Not changing my mind, Nimriel."

☆

Halbrand had not been expecting palace guards to show up at the forge and escort him to a meeting hall that contained Queen Míriel, Chancellor Pharazôn, Galadriel, and Nimriel. He hesitated at the door for a moment, eyes lingering on the Sea Elf longer than the others before he joined them around the table.

Several maps of Middle-Earth, in particular, the Southlands, were laid out before them. And Míriel wanted to hear everything he recalled from his time before fleeing the land so that they weren't going in blind. So, he quickly summarized how the orcs slowly began to take over the land one territory at a time.

"And where did the enemy head next?" Míriel asked him.

"Further south, I should think," Halbrand told her, tracing a path with his finger on the paper. "Towards the watchtower of Ostirith."

Míriel shared a look with the Chancellor and nodded. "I'll inform the Sea Guard," Pharazôn said, taking one of the maps and leaving them.

"My thanks, Lord Halbrand," Míriel told him. "I'm certain your fellowship will prove just as invaluable once we make landfall." Both Nimriel and Galadriel tensed at her phrasing, knowing what was coming.

Halbrand paused before repeating the word. "Landfall?"

For a moment, the Queen shot a suspicious look at Galadriel. "Galadriel informed us of your aspiration to unite your people."

"Did she now?" Halbrand asked, glancing quickly at the Elf in anger before back to the Queen.

"I trust she was not speaking in haste?"

"As a matter of fact, it was my intention—"

Galadriel cut Halbrand off before he could ruin everything with the truth. "My companion is merely feeling the weight of his task. I have no doubt, come time, he will do his part," she said stiffly.

Míriel looked warily between Galadriel and Halbrand, not quite sure that she could trust it. But Nimriel was smiling charmingly at her, so she bought it for the time being. "Given that I've staked my name upon it, I should hope so."

Then an attendant to the King stepped in the doorway. "Queen Regent, your father has requested your presence in the tower."

As the Queen left, Galadriel and Nim had the decency to bow their heads a bit. Once she was gone, Halbrand released a deep breath. Then he leaned both hands on the table and leaned across it, glaring at the Land Elf while the one from the Sea was turning her head and pretending to watch a bird fly past the window.

"Galadriel informed us," Halbrand repeated, not bothering to hide the annoyance in his tone.

She was unbothered by his glare, just as annoyed with him given his past actions. "I wondered how the queen knew to waylay me at her father's bedside. It never occurred to me you'd hand me over for a guild crest."

"You used me," he spat. "After I all but begged you to let me be."

"I have just convinced Númenor to send five ships and five hundred men to aid your people and place a crown upon your head. Many might assume you used me," Galadriel replied evenly with a faux look of innocence on her face.

"Gal," Nimriel mumbled, not thinking that was very fair of her.

Halbrand ripped the necklace from around his neck, breaking the leather strap as he did. "Find another head to crown," he snapped, slamming it down on the table. Then he stormed off without another word.

"That went well," Nim muttered under her breath, which Galadriel clearly heard.

"His insistence to not comply is becoming quite the inconvenience. I worry Míriel will withdraw her aid if he does not change his mind."

Nimriel moved back to Galadriel's side and leaned her head on her shoulder comfortingly. "Things will work out, Galadriel," she assured her. "The sea will guide him down the right path."

"I do wish I had your faith in the sea sometimes."

☆

As the day went on, Nimriel met back with Elendil. This time, she had Galadriel with her on the way to find him. The Captain had several new soldiers lined up in the streets just outside of the forge where Halbrand was working at. Two of them — Valandil and Ontamo — were testing out the freshly made swords while Elendil instructed them on how to fight better.

"Hold your ground, Ontamo. Make your father proud," Elendil instructed as Galadriel and Nimriel joined his side.

"Their strokes fall like the Stone Giants of the North Moors," Galadriel commented, keeping her voice fairly low. Nimriel nodded in agreement, thinking the two boys fought roughly.

Elendil looked away from the soldiers, seeking out the Elf's opinion. "And yet?"

Galadriel began speaking in her native tongue, knowing he would understand. "They are untested against this foe."

"Perhaps the Elf would be willing to offer some instructions?" Elendil asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Oh, you must, Gal," Nim said excitedly in the common language, wanting to see her friend in true action.

With a smirk, Galadriel agreed and walked over to the forge. As she got a weapon from Halbrand, Elendil told the soldiers about the change of plans. It wasn't long before five volunteers were in a line in front of Galadriel. Nim stood against the wall of the forge to watch, wanting to see how people fought with swords as opposed to tridents like the one on her back.

"There are many ways to kill an Orc," Galadriel told them, knowing they'd never seen one before. "But for you, I will keep it strong and simple. Stab—" The soldiers were surprised and moved out of the way when Galadriel suddenly thrust her blade through the air and in between two of them, displaying the technique. "—twist, gut." Once the sword was back at her side, she looked at all the soldiers evenly. "Come at me. We will see who can score flesh."

Elendil walked behind her with his hands behind his back. "Anyone that does, I will promote... to lieutenant."

An excited chatter settled amongst the soldiers that were watching several feet back. And Valandil looked at Ontamo with a smirk on his face, ready for the challenge. He wasted no time in stepping up and getting into position.

After a moment of assessing each other, Valandil made the first move, taking a stab at Galadriel. However, she leaned out of the way with impressive speed. He tried the same move on her other side, which she again dodged. Next, he tried to swing at her head, but she seamlessly leaned back.

At that point, several of the soldiers began chuckling, realizing Valandil was likely about to have his ass handed to him by Galadriel. Even Elendil had a smile on his face as he sat down on a stool next to Nimriel.

He rushed at her with a series of attacks, causing her to move backward as she dodged them. Finally, she raised her blade and held her sword at his neck after he missed yet another attack. Valandil managed to knock her sword to the side, but she had him turned around and with her weapon back at his neck within seconds.

"Swordsmanship is about balance, rather than strength. Fight with your feet, not your arms," Galadriel told him, hoping he'd learn from the pointers.

Then Ontamo let out a battle cry and ran into the fight, lunging for Galadriel. She quickly parried the blow, and both boys began attacking her, backing her closer to a market stall that sold fishing supplies. It was amazing how neither boy's sword came near her as she blocked everything that came their way. After Ontamo got knocked back several feet, Valandil charged, only to nearly run right into her outstretched weapon.

The fight went on until Galadriel managed to steal Ontamo's sword, and his eyes went wide as he realized it a little too late. As Galadriel twirled the two swords cockily, Nimriel couldn't help but giggle, finding it all quite amusing.

When the fight resumed, it wasn't just Valandil and a rearmed Ontamo. All five cadets charged at the same time, rushing at her with their swords. But Galadriel took them on one by one, making it look easy while knocking them to the side or disarming them.

"Don't plant roots," Galadriel said as she had Ontamo and another soldier with her swords at their necks. Then she dared to smack Ontamo on the rear with her blade, making Nimriel and Elendil snicker. "Keep moving."

The fight went on, and Nimriel glanced at the ever-growing crowd. It seemed everyone around wanted to watch the fight, even children who were sitting up on their parent's shoulders. And Nim was surprised to see Isildur amongst the crowd, watching the fight anxiously. He likely was wishing that he was amongst his friends and fighting.

Nimriel smiled before looking back at her friend. Galadriel was making a mess of the fishing stall while fighting, but she was clearly winning. She knocked four of the cadets back before spinning and blocking Valandil's sword with her own just before it could cut into her arm, only making contact with the fabric. It was the closest any of them got to hurting her, but she still easily pushed him back.

"Never trust brute force to best an Orc," Galadriel told them.

Valandil let out a grunt before changing one last time. However, Galadriel caught his sword in between her two and turned, using the momentum to throw his sword to the ground. It slid over toward the forge as Valandil fell on his back.

"It's often easiest to outmaneuver them," Galadriel said as the other cadets helped Valandil back to his feet. Then she looked down at her left arm where the fabric was torn with a smile. "Well done, Lieutenant."

As everyone clapped for Valandil, Galadriel walked over to Elendil and handed him the two swords she'd used. And Halbrand moved over the one that belonged to Valandil. Nim watched with wide eyes as he performed a small trick, catching the blade under his foot and lifting it. The sword flipped through the air, and Halbrand caught it easily. He wiped the dust off with his glove before twirling it and holding it out to Valandil, who took it with a thankful nod.

"Never known a smith's aide who could do that," Galadriel muttered to Halbrand. He ignored her and moved away to collect the rest of the swords from the cadets that were congratulating Valandil.

"That was impressive, Gal," Nimriel said, going to her side. "You're quite fearsome with those."

"Perhaps she could give you some pointers as well," Elendil said, joining them as well. He was still holding the two swords. "Trade out that fork for one of these."

Nim narrowed her eyes playfully at him. "You know good and well this is a trident," she said, shaking her head disapprovingly. It was a fishing kingdom for goodness sake. "And why does everyone seem to think I am incapable of protecting myself with this? Or at all, for that matter? Since reaching land, I've been spoken to constantly as if I am a delicate princess."

"You are a delicate princess, Princess," Halbrand muttered as he walked by them, returning some of the swords he had collected.

"Lord Halbrand has a point," Elendil said, nodding. "It is expected for you to wait with the Queen Regent as the calvary rides in to save the Southlanders."

"Wait? You want me to wait?" Nim asked, raising her voice a bit. "No, Captain Elendil, I will not wait back with your Queen. I came to the surface to fight alongside Galadriel, and that is what I will do."

"I cannot in good conscience send an untrained fighter onto the battlefield," he said, shaking his head.

Nimriel narrowed her eyes at him. "Good thing I am not untrained then."

Elendil saw how her hand tightened around the long handle of the golden trident. Since finding her at sea, he assumed it was just a precautionary weapon that she grabbed before leaving her kingdom so she would not be unarmed. It never occurred to him — or most people — that a princess would be raised and trained as a warrior. He had always seen Nimriel as a wide-eyed, gentle, and kind-hearted person, but when her strength and ability were being questioned, she looked quite wrathful.

"Perhaps that claim should be tested for good measure," he finally decided.

The only movement he actually caught was an aggravated twitch in Nimriel's eyebrow. A second later, the impossibly sharp prongs of the trident were at his throat — he had no idea where the speed came from. In an instant, all the attention of the soldiers and crowd was back on them and the potential new fight that was beginning.

"Was that you offering, Captain?" Nimriel asked, her eyebrow raised.

Elendil did not respond with words. Instead, he brought up one of the swords and knocked the trident back — he was surprised by how much force it took to move the sturdy weapon given how lightweight it was. He swung the second sword, but Nimriel dodged it as easily as Galadriel had.

When the fight fully broke out and the repetitive clang of their weapons hitting filled the street, the differences between Galadriel and Nimriel were apparent. Halbrand forgot all about the weapons he was meant to take care of as he watched. Something about the way Nim moved reminded him of the sea. She didn't move as elegantly as Galadriel, but the waves weren't an elegant thing. They were wild, unpredictable, and free-flowing — most importantly, they were unstoppable.

It wasn't long at all before Nimriel had the Captain of the Sea Guard backed into a corner, one sword already lost to the ground. Her ears could pick up on shoes moving against the pavement behind her, overhearing as the sword scraped the ground as well, meaning someone picked it up.

Nim moved quickly, hitting the ground with the bottom of her trident. She used the force to push up into the air, swinging her body around. Her foot hit Elendil's wrist, knocking his last sword free and her passing hand. The momentum from her jump sent Nimriel through the air, traveling over the head of her second opponent.

An armed Galadriel raised an impressed eyebrow when she turned and realized Nimriel was now behind her. "You fight well, my friend."

"At least someone can admit it," Nim said with a teasing grin. "So, do I get promoted if I beat you?"

"How about bragging rights?" Galadriel asked while getting into a fighting stance.

"Oh, that's much better."

People began cheering and hollering as the two Elves began to fight. Nimriel had a slight advantage, as she'd been able to watch Galadriel fight the cadets for several minutes. But after a while, Galadriel adjusted her methods, realizing Nim did not fight like a human, an Elf, or even an orc. But it was still a challenge, as Nimriel was unpredictable — Galadriel wondered if she even knew what her next move would be before making it. And she moved like the trident was an extension of herself, using it not only as a weapon but an additional limb.

Nim was fast too. For someone that had only been walking less than two full weeks, she moved with impressive speed. So, Galadriel knew for a fact the girl would be lethal if they were below the surface of the sea.

Galadriel dodged as Nimriel swung at her head, then she swiped at Nim's legs to try and throw her off her balance. Nim surprised her by leaping high while also slamming her strident down. Galadriel's sword got caught between two of the prongs and before she could pull it out, Nim spun the handle, and the force pulled the sword from Galadriel's grip. Then she swung the trident upward while her feet hit the ground.

A gasp ran through the crowd as the base of the trident where the prongs met slammed into Galadriel's jaw, knocking her to the ground. A moment later, Nim was over her, her weapon fixed at her throat.

Even still, the Sea Elf didn't look particularly threatening given that she was grinning brightly down at her friend, those two pointed fangs showing off.

"I win!" Nim said brightly, all that anger and annoyance fading now that she had Galadriel on her back in front of the soldiers that hadn't been able to best her. But her smile fell when she saw a thin cut along Galadriel's cheek. "Oh, I hurt you."

As Nimriel gave Galadriel a hand up, those watching began to clap for the Sea Elf's victory.

"That is the point of a fight, Nim," Galadriel said with a smile. She was pleased to know Nimriel truly could defend herself — worrying about her wouldn't be such a burden any longer. "You fight well. Though I will not be so easily bested if there is a next time."

Elendil walked over to them then, an impressed expression on his face. "I stand quite corrected, My Lady," he admitted while slightly bowing his head. "And it would be an honor to fight alongside someone so talented with a weapon in hand. Can you forgive my earlier comments?"

"I forgave you as soon as I embarrassed you in front of your cadets and son," she teased, remembering how many of them snickered and cheered when she'd defeated him and moved on to Galadriel. And Isildur was back in the crowd, leaning against a wall and watching Nim in awe of the way she fought his father, who he'd always seen as unbeatable.

He wasn't the only one, either. As soon as Nimriel drew her weapon on the Captain, Halbrand forgot about everything but her His dark eyes followed her body's every move, thinking she'd never looked so fierce and captivating, a craving stirring inside of him as he watched.

When Nimriel fought, she was powerful — and the gods knew how Halbrand so craved powerful things.