Disclaimer: LOTR belongs to the creative genius of JRR Tolkien, not me.

A/N: This is just a short vignette, there may be a sequel, I already have something in mind. Also, thank you to those who reviewed my previous stories, your words were welcome.

Old Warriors Never Say Die

The Lord of Rivendell and the Lord and Lady of Lothlorien had travelled to Mirkwood in response to a summons from Mithrandir. He had called to inform them of the disturbing news he had discovered during his captivity at Dol Guldur. The return of Sauron posed a threat, not only to the Elves, but to all of Middle Earth and it was his hope that they could form a united army to defeat him, although there did not seem to be much hope unless the One Ring could also be found and destroyed.

The actual Council meeting was scheduled for the following day, when Saruman the White was expected. Thranduil had invited Elrond, Glorfindel, Celeborn and Mithrandir to breakfast and to discuss battle plans. Although Elrond and Thranduil harboured a great deal of animosity towards each other, they managed to tolerate each other's presence when required, as an Elven Lord is wont to do. The rift between them had already lasted thousands of years, the cause a mystery to all but the two elves.

They were discussing strategies used in past encounters and unfortunately the subject of the Battle of Five Armies was brought up. Mithrandir suggested that Rivendell should co-ordinate any joint battles and unknowingly reopened the wound.. Thranduil immediately jumped to his feet,

"Mirkwood has been keeping the encroaching Shadow at bay for many years, my warrior are well trained and have fought many battles," Thranduil shouted angrily.

"I would not call fighting an occasional band of orcs, or killing spiders and wolves a battle" responded Elrond with a steel edge to his normally quiet voice, "and I have had some experience as a leader of an army." Thranduil looked at him stonily,

"That was long ago, it is how many centuries since you last wielded your sword to defend yourself?" he asked, his voice dripping contempt. "Words are now your only weapons, Peredhil."

"You dare to imply that I have lost my skill?" the tone in Elrond's voice was deadly. Celeborn looked at Glorfindel and his slight nod confirmed that they both expected trouble. "Would you care to try and best me, son of Oropher?" he challenged as they continued to glare at each other. Thranduil did not hesitate,

"I accept your challenge, meet me on the practice field in one hour."

Mithrandir rose to his feet in protest, "Cease this nonsense immediately" his voice thundered, "you two are behaving like foolish elf-lings. This is a serious matter we are here to discuss; this is neither the time nor the place to indulge your petty squabble. Fighting amongst yourselves can only aid Sauron's cause." Elrond moved to stand by the window, but Celeborn could see that the matter would not be resolved with words.

"Do not stop them," he said "perhaps a physical contest will bring them both to their senses. It would certainly be interesting."

"Yes it would," agreed Glorfindel, smiling at his next words, "knowing them both as I do I fear that not even Iluvitar himself could get them to see reason."

"Oh. Very well. You two are just as bad as them, a challenge it is" Mithrandir conceded knowing he had been overruled. These four had fought many battles together over the centuries and each was a great warrior in his own right. A challenge match between the two Elven lords would be entertaining and might even serve as instruction for the younger elves who had yet to face a war.

News of the match, and the heated words that had caused it, spread quickly throughout Mirkwood, eventually reaching the ears of Legolas, Elladan and Elrohir. The sons of Elrond could not believe their father would indulge in such behaviour. This was more like something one of them would do; it would certainly result in chastisement for foolish behaviour from Elrond. Legolas, on the other hand, had no such problem accepting his father's part in the incident; it was totally in keeping with his reputation. Thranduil was well known for being an arrogant elf with a quick temper ever since he had locked the Dwarves in his dungeons. Nothing that he did surprised his son.

The crowd was large and noisy with some elves seated around the practice field whilst others sought vantage spots in the surrounding trees. The Prince and his friends found an excellent spot not far from the pavilion, which had been set up for the Lady Galadriel. Celeborn sat at her side and they were listening to Glorfindel and Mithrandir, discussing something, which amused her judging by the sound of her musical laugh.

"So, Legolas" said Elladan as they waited for the spectacle to begin, "Would you care to place a wager on who will be the victor? Father is an excellent swordsman, you know."

"So is my father," Legolas replied. "What are the stakes?" The twins looked at each other for a moment,

"I know," offered Elrohir "if Elrond wins, Legolas will take over our task of teaching Arwen to shoot. I don't think she has any talent for archery, and neither of us have the patience to persevere."

" Agreed. If Thranduil wins you two will have to convince him to let me come on one of your hunting trips." They had offered to take Legolas last time they went, but Thranduil had forbidden him to go on the grounds that he was still not experienced enough to travel beyond the borders of Mirkwood.

"Hmm, that might be difficult, but I'm sure the problem will not arise since Elrond will win" said Elrohir, "but we agree anyway."

"Speaking of hunting trips, just wait until Aragorn gets back from up North and finds out what he and his Rangers have missed," Legolas said, imagining the look that would be on his friend's face.

"Yes," laughed Elladan, "this is definitely the most entertaining event any of us have seen for quite a while. Just look at the crowd, every Elf in Mirkwood must be here."

Suddenly the noise of the crowd ceased and all eyes were on Elrond and Thranduil as they arrived at the field. The two lords walked over and bowed gallantly before Galadriel. Mithrandir was pleased to see that commonsense had prevailed in that they were both wearing elaborately decorated studded leather vests and elven helms which glittered like gold in the sunlight. They would be afforded some protection; even an elf can die at the sword.

They moved back to the centre of the field, saluted each other with their swords and the battle began. It soon became obvious that both were highly skilled swordsmen, well practised in the elven techniques of sword fighting. Their moves were elegant as each vied to make the winning strike, forcing themselves not to strike with full force. This became increasingly difficult since they were both so evenly matched, and so determined to win, that the fighting became fierce and their blades sang as they came together. The onlookers were stunned to see such power and invincibility emanating from their Lords as they transformed into the fearsome warriors of ages past. There was no doubt that they were both had the presence to command great armies. Those in the pavilion felt as if they were watching a bloody battle out of history when elf fought elf.

Legolas, Elladan and Elrohir had watched in awed silence, barely recognising their sires and feeling extremely proud to be the sons of two such mighty elves.

Neither of the combatants were tiring, and the contest may have gone on forever had not Elrond slipped on a wet patch of grass, unceremoniously pulling Thranduil down to the ground with him. Galadriel stood and before they could resume their battle she said, "I declare this contest a draw". She walked over to them and was relieved to see that though both had sustained some cuts and bruises they were otherwise unharmed.

"That was a magnificent display of swordsmanship," she added facing the now cheering crowd, "Lord Elrond and King Thranduil have reminded everyone here of just how formidable a foe the elder race can be. Such a reminder will serve you well in the dark times ahead." The two lords bowed to each other and Galadriel ushered them to her pavilion and sent for a healer. Very quietly she said to them in her best motherly voice, " I trust that your foolish behaviour at breakfast will not be repeated. Am I understood?"

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