Hi all, I've gotten terribly sick of writing romance fics so here's something new. To all whom love Legolas, DO NOT READ! I'm warning you, some not very pleasant things happen to him. I own all that is unfamiliar, but everything else goes into my stew-pot of disownership. I should let you know also that I am very prone to Bloody Murder, at times can sound like a hunting orc, and can growl as well (if not better) than a mountain lion. If you see them in the fic and think 'That could never happen, human vocal cords cannot produce a sound like THAT' YOU ARE WRONG. Every grunt whine or other sound I have personally made myself, although I might be more than part orc.
"Nine walkers against nine riders, hmm, odd coincidence. I don't think nine is a lucky number." Said Elrond. He looked at them, and glanced at a gap in the circle.
"I'll go. If left to it's own device this fellowship will fall apart at the seems." Said a voice "Men." It grumbled. Then, through the opening in the circle, a lady walked into the center. She had on a white gown and no shoes and around her neck hung a dragon-shaped pendant.
The men looked around hastily trying to see which men she was muttering about. They shortly figured out that she was talking about them.
"Well, at least I don't wear my night-clothes to a secret council." Murmured Legolas in spite
"Leg-less Green leaf, don't make me come over there. I (stress on the I) was wounded trying to get here, trying to protect life, honor, county, and friend. No one expected me to even gain conciseness in time for the council, so no clothes were set out and I have the decency NOT to go through my hosts cloths." Her voice held malice few had ever heard. Legolas grumbled something then said,
"At least you could have changed into the dress you came in." He thought that he wasn't insulting her, but…
"*grunt growl* Leg-man DIE!" The woman propelled herself at the elf with surprising speed and dexterity. Her hands were tearing at his face when she kneed him in the place where the sun don't shine. She smirked as his eyes went very wide and he stopped grappling at her and clutched his… (PG-13 fic people). A girl was beating the crud out of our Favorite prince. Five dwarves, at Elrond's command (it is his house, after all), grabbed the girl's arms and hauled her to her feet. She kept kicking the poor man until two elves took a foot in each hand. Stretching the woman out they held her, but only barely. One of the dwarves lost his grip on the straining muscles. He captured her shoulder again.
"AAAAAAAgggghhhhhhh!!!!!!!!" she screamed, right underneath his hand was a terrible wound from an orc arrow. Although not as awful as a Morgul wound, it had time to fester. Not only that, but orcs are not necessarily the cleanest things, and the shaft had remained in her for an hour, until the battle was over.