Target Practice by spookystoy

Chapter 1

Curufin drew back his right elbow evenly. He wouldn't surpass Fëanor as an artisan, but he wielded a bow with deadly accuracy. He had an audience today: a cluster of Men awaiting Felagund watched his arrows thunking into the distant target's center. 

He heard one say, "They cast spells on their weapons."

"Unnatural. I don't like it."

"They could teach us."

"It's something they're born with, a sixth sense. Can't teach that."

Still pulling the bowstring, considering his target, Curufin then shifted his gaze, catching the last speaker's eye. "We are born with keen hearing, as well," he called drolly.