Two months passed in Rivendell, and Kiah wasn’t too sure her prayer of trust had been fully answered. Legolas wasn’t around to test it, for he had joined a scouting party north into the Ettenmoors, seeking the Ringwraiths. Aragorn and his Rangers had taken another party west, and even Elrond’s twin sons searched for the scent. For most of the time, the telekinetic alternated between spending time with the hobbits, and conversing with Gandalf and the elven lord. Ever present in her thoughts was the question of when. When will they leave for Mordor; when will she be free to work her TK; when will the wizard find the second prophecy… when will she go home? Frustrating to her was that the wizard didn’t give any clear answers. 

On Kiah’s 64th day in the elven kingdom, all the scouts had returned; from what they had learned, eight of the nine Ringwraiths were accounted for. Immediately Elrond called another council and announced that seven days from that point, a company of ten will depart to destroy the Ring. Each of the affected races was represented: Aragorn, Boromir, and Kiah for the humans; Frodo, Sam, Merry, and Pippen for the hobbits; Gimli for the dwarves; Legolas for the elves, and Gandalf would serve as their guide. 

There was still some grumbling about the telekinetic’s inclusion, mostly coming from the short, hairy man and the Steward of Gondor. For her part, Kiah kept her ready insults to herself. She had recognized early on that Middle Earth was a patriarchal world, one very much different from the 23rd century she’d left. Though nothing would have given her more pleasure than to shut their cake holes, she knew she had to wait. And when that time finally comes, heaven help you as I break my foot off in both your asses, she had thought once. 

On the 68th day, the morning that would’ve been Christmas, Kiah woke earlier than normal, blinking her eyes rapidly against the tears. You didn’t miss it, K. You’ve only been gone for a little over an hour, so no crying. When this is over, you’ll be back with time to spare. Now come on and get up. Setting her body in motion, she sat upright and scooted out of the bed. As was her routine for the past two months, she put on her exercise gear, grabbed her swords, and headed for her inside “spot”, another place she’d found as the days turned colder. Before Kiah started, she spent a long time in meditation, clearing her frustrated mind and heart of her lingering, personal pain. Once centered, she withdrew her swords, assumed her starting position, and began. 

 

Nearly an hour later, Legolas made his own preparations for the day. Like some of the others, he was anxious to begin their quest, to venture in to Middle Earth as his father and brothers once did, and help stamp out Sauron’s evil. However, as he washed himself and dressed in fresh clothes, there was something else that made him a little antsy; rather, someone else. A person he’d seen very little of since the final Council’s meeting. Perhaps she is awake now, and would like to join me for breakfast, the elf prince thought before leaving his room and seeking out hers. 

Once he’d reached the room where Kiah rested, Legolas knocked on the door, but could hear no sounds on the other side. Is she already awake? The hour is early for her usual routine. Greeting elves as he passed them by, he searched for the human until he came across Aragorn, whose eyes were trained on a lone, petite figure fiercely wielding two swords. 

“Good morning, my friend,” greeted the Ranger. “It would appear that I was not the only one sleep eluded last night.” 

“How long has Kiah been here?” Legolas asked, his eyes shifting from the movement of her arms to the scar across her stomach. He had seen a glimpse of it before, when they had last argued, but now he saw it clearly. It was a quarter-inch wide; a dark line running the entire width of her abdomen at a diagonal. He could tell it was not a fresh wound, probably several years old. Was this a result of the torture her family suffered? he wondered. 

“Perhaps her usual two hours,” informed Aragorn before turning his face to the elf. “Are things settled between you two?” 

Legolas broke his stare at Kiah to address his friend. “I would assume so, though I have not seen much of her since our return from scouting. When our paths have crossed, the conversation has been polite…short, but polite.” 

Aragorn looked back at the telekinetic, noting that she had completed her training. “She still does not trust you,” he stated more than asked. 

“No, she does not. She is still fearful; she still compares me to another who was supposed to protect her but failed.” 

“And she fears a repeat of history in you,” Aragorn concluded. 

Legolas nodded slowly, his eyes moving back to Kiah before suddenly shifting towards their left. His body went on alert, as did Aragorn’s, when he saw Boromir's approach down the hall. It was no secret how the Gondorian felt about the woman’s involvement in the quest: he, along with Gimli, was against it. It had nothing to do with her race or age, but only her gender. They both felt that a female as small as Kiah was too fragile, and would be more of a burden than a help. 

“This may not bode well,” the elf forewarned as he moved to intercept, only to be swayed by Aragorn. 

“Interfere now, and you would only add proof to Boromir’s opinion of her. Let him discover what she can do, on his own,” suggested the exiled king, letting go of his friend’s forearm only when his body relaxed. Together they watched and listened as the Steward addressed the telekinetic. 

 

“You are up early, milady,” Boromir began when he finally reached her. “Did you not sleep well?” 

Kiah was busy wiping away the sweat from her face, neck and stomach before she answered. “I don’t need a lot to feel rested.” She then lifted her hazel eyes to look directly into his. “What can I do for you?” she asked, reaching for her sweater and putting it back on. 

“Aragorn has mentioned that your fighting techniques are interesting to watch. I was hoping for a small demonstration,” he requested with a slight grin. 

Picking up her swords, she was replacing them in the scabbard when she said, “You will see it once we leave for the mission, now if you’ll excuse me-“ 

Boromir frowned slightly but quickly suppressed it. “It would not take up much time, milady, I am certain. I would like to see this style you have; perhaps it could prove useful in battle.” 

Kiah looked at the man from Gondor long and hard, her right eyebrow rising into a perfect arch. “Don’t bullshit me, Lord Boromir,” she said calmly. “It wastes my time, which is something I really don’t have. Why don’t you just tell me that you don’t want me in the Company? You’ve told everyone else.” 

Impertinent woman, Boromir thought before answering as calm and cool as she. “I do not want you in the Company.” 

“Why?” she pushed. 

“Because you are a woman, who would best be suited anywhere except in battle. I believe that at the critical moment, you will display the natural weakness of all women, and it will cost us greatly.” 

Kiah tilted her head to the left a bit and then sighed. Slowly she withdrew her swords, tossing the scabbard to the side. When Boromir just stood there, both eyebrows raised, she said, “If we’re doing this then come on, I’m stinky and hungry.” 

The Gondorian smiled like an adult indulging a child, and withdrew his long sword. He circled the woman once, deciding on the best way to attack. Lunging forward with his leading right foot, he swung and caught Kiah’s left sword. No sooner had he made contact though, than the telekinetic deflected with that same sword while bringing the right-hand weapon within one inch from Boromir’s neck. 

“Rule number one: never underestimate your opponent,” she quoted from her Eskrima master and then assumed the starting position. “Again,” she commanded. 

Surprised by her speed and the fact that she could’ve have killed him then and there, Boromir removed his outer tunic, casting it to the side like Kiah and circling her once more. 

The exiled king and the elf prince watched as repeatedly the petite woman “met” her target, saying “Again” after each one. They could see the anger and embarrassment rolling off of the Gondorian, and that Kiah was using those emotions against him. After one sword volley, however, she taunted, “Come on Boromir, are you even trying?” Those words were enough to push the man past his limit, a growl of rage rumbling from his mouth. His lunges, parries, and thrusts were harder and overwhelming, and both Aragorn and Legolas could see that Kiah was struggling to defend more than attack. When Boromir knocked both of her weapons out of her hands, the elf prepared to interfere but was stopped by his friend once more. 

“Wait and see,” said the Ranger. 

“It would seem, milady, that you are the one who is not trying,” Boromir taunted, a confident and slightly smug look on his face. “You did fight well, for a woman. Perhaps there-“ 

The front right kick Kiah delivered to his mouth splitting his lip, was enough to shut him up. “Rule number two,” she somewhat panted, “always finish the strike.” 

Boromir pressed his fingers to his mouth and pulled them back to see the blood. His subsequent glare and first step were blocked when Legolas appeared from seemingly nowhere. 

“It is wise to save the aggression for our true enemies, when we finally face them,” he said calmly, though his blue eyes reflected anything but. Silently the two waged their own battle of wills, with Kiah moving behind them to retrieve her things. 

Though Boromir had goaded her into sparring, she surprisingly wasn’t that upset. He wanted to know, so now he does…and that’s only the tip of the iceberg, she thought to herself, knowing how different things would’ve been if she were allowed to exercise her TK. He’s the one who has to live with getting his ass whooped by a female, not me. Holding her full scabbard over her right shoulder she turned to watch the stare down end with Boromir stalking away. Aragorn emerged from a nearby column to say something to Legolas in elvish, before following the Gondorian at a distance. 

“Are you alright?” the elf asked, his eyes now softer and focused on Kiah. 

She was still looking after Aragorn when she asked, “Where did he come from? Where did you come from, for that matter?” 

“We were standing over there,” he pointed out. “Watching you.” 

Kiah turned in Legolas’ direction, an eyebrow raised. “For what?” 

His blue eyes scanned from her face to the rest of her body, drawing an “Excuse me, but what the hell are you doing?” from the telekinetic. 

“I am looking for injuries. The way he sparred with you may have caused harm,” he explained. 

Kiah shrugged it off. “I’ve been in worse scrapes than that, but you didn’t answer my question. Why were you two watching me?” 

“Your fighting technique is interesting to watch, and possibly learn.” Pointing a finger at her now covered stomach, he switched topics abruptly. “How did you get that scar?” he asked. 

Kiah was momentarily thrown by the question, which seemed to come from left field. Moving around his right side, she said, “Someone tried to slice me in half, but didn’t follow through.” If I hadn’t been distracted with Petite, that pyrokinetic soldier freak wouldn’t have gotten the drop on me…hindsight is 50/50, though. Before Kiah could take another step, Legolas’ hand stayed her departure. 

“He injured you,” he stated, contempt for Boromir rebuilding internally. “Here,” he pointed out, marking the three-inch long slice through the right sleeve of her sweater, roughly an inch below the bend of her elbow. 

“Shit,” she whispered, starting to roll up her sleeve to investigate but Legolas did it for her. Sure enough, the Steward had drawn blood, but not much. The cut was more of a glancing one, equal in length to that of the sweater. Before she could protest, he ripped the rest of the sleeve off and wrapped it around the wound, to staunch the bleeding. Kiah just stood there, transfixed, instinctively folding the injured appendage towards her chest. 

“Come, I will take you to the Healers,” he said, gently placing his right hand around her left elbow and taking a step forward, but halted when Kiah didn't. “What is the matter?” he asked. 

“That’s what I want to know,” she answered after studying him for a few moments. Inside her head, the trust debate increased in intensity again. 

Legolas didn’t have to be telepathic to know what she was thinking, for her alluring eyes reflected it all. Out of acknowledgement of her wariness, he slowly removed his loose grip on her elbow. I do not wish to cause you harm, Strong One. Tell me how I can prove that to you, and I will, he wanted to say. Instead, he waited and offered an apologetic smile. “My apologies, Kiah, if I have offended you in some way.” 

The telekinetic continued to study him, her eyes searching deep into his for something, anything, shady…but she couldn’t find it. She slightly shook her head, saying, “You didn’t do anything. You’re safe, I suppose. That Boromir, though-“ her eyes moved back down the hall the Gondorian had taken. “Something’s off about him, I feel it in my gut.” With that she began to walk away, looking over her shoulder when Legolas continued to stand there. “We’re going to the Healers, right?”