Aeärwen's Little Bits - 33. Determined
(a birthday gift for Pandemonium_213)
He stared at the bandage-wrapped lump that should have been his right hand and glared. He was tired of the looks, of the pity. For days he'd questioned whether he should be angry or grateful that he'd been rescued.
What good was a warrior with a useless sword-arm?
He picked up his sword with his left hand, and found it was heavy, unwieldy. He tried to swing it and nearly dropped it. He knew what to do, but the muscles refused to cooperate.
Maedhros swung again, now fiercely determined. He'd learned once; he could learn again, and better than before.