Elvish:
Perenniath - halflings (lit. hobbits)
Discipline. Don't let yourself be goaded into attacking. Don't overestimate your abilities.
Time. Every second counts. Don't waste strikes ineffectually.
Patience. Hold back until the right moment. Victory will come to those who wait
They were the laws of the Greenwood warriors, and they were absolute.
Legolas had been a headstrong youth who made his own laws. While at times leading to success, they often ended with a stay in the healing wards. In time, however, he had come to realise the wisdom of these ancient rules. They had protected him in many battles, and had helped him best countless warriors at sparring. He called on their knowledge now as he began to watch Elrohir's movements. The warrior was moving in a counterclockwise direction around him, no doubt trying to throw off his timing and balance. Legolas stood his ground, adjusting his position so to keep Elrohir in his line of sight. Suddenly, Elrohir lunged forward, stabbing at his side. Legolas sprang to the side, dodging the sharp blade.
Elrohir seemed to take offense at this, and began an aggressive series of cuts and swings, driving him backward towards the edge of the pit. Legolas waited until the backs of his knees were almost touching the edge of the pit, before coiling his muscles and leaping into the air, somersaulting over the shoulder of the startled warrior. Elrohir's arm twitched slightly, and that was all that he needed. Bringing both daggers up to trap his sword between them, he twisted them in opposite directions, sending Elrohir's sword to the earthen floor of the pit.
The now-weaponless soldier looked at him, then the sword resting on the dirt. "Congratulations, Legolas. There are not many who can best me." His tone was not mocking, rather, it was of respect towards a fellow warrior. "I hope that we may test ourselves against each other in the future." Legolas responded. "We could share techniques."
"That is a splendid idea. Now, I should think that you would like to bathe and dress yourself for dinner." The twins and Aragorn guided him to his rooms, which were spacious and offered a magnificent view of the valley below. They then departed, telling him that he had an hour to soak and clothe himself appropriately. Legolas sighed in contentment, walking to the bathing chambers to prepare himself to meet many of the residents of Rivendell.
"There was quite a commotion in the courtyard today, Mr. Frodo! A big tall fellow, wrapped in a dark cape with a hood over his head, came clattering into Rivendell on a great big deer-like beast. I don't know who he is, but I do know trouble when I see it. Do you really feel well enough to go down to dinner? I wouldn't want anything bad to happen to you." Frodo looked at his dear friend, Sam, sitting beside Merry and Pippin, who were listening avidly to Sam's tale of the mysterious rider. " Yes, Sam, I feel fine. A bit of exercise will do me wonders. And Lord Elrond and Aragorn will be there. I trust their judgement, and that they'll protect us if anything bad happens." And so four curious hobbits trekked down to dinner, curious as to who the strange visitor might be.
"There he is, Mr Frodo! See, he don't look too trustworthy. And he's still got his hood on. See! Sitting next to Lord Elrond!" All four hobbits tried to secretly stare at the peculiar person seated at the high table, and each made their guess as to who he was. " I reckon he's a ranger, like Aragorn" said Frodo. " I think he was in an accident, and that's why he covers his face" said Merry. "I think he's a trader. Maybe he's selling cloaks!" said Pippin. Sam snorted. I think he's a criminal" he said, "seeking refuge in Rivendell." Frodo almost told Sam to be more respectful, but then the elves began carrying platters of food in, and Elrond stood up to speak.
Meanwhile, Gimli Gloin's son was intrigued. It took a lot to fluster those skinny little root-eaters, he thought, but that queer stranger who came riding into the courtyard today had certainly gotten them into a tizzy. He wondered if the man(if it was indeed a man) had some sort of terrible injury or disease. Perhaps he had come to lord Elrond to seek a cure? Anyway, he thought, I'll find out at dinner.
Legolas, who was currently seated at the high table of Lord Elrond himself, found that he was attracting far to much attention for his own liking. He had donned his flowing green robe embroidered with silver leaves, as it was the only formal garment he had brought with him, apart from a spare set of plain hunting clothes. He had decided to detach the hood from the cloak and wear it down to dinner, as he was unsure of the reactions his tattoos would cause. Unfortunately, this seemed to have the opposite effect, and it seemed that the whole table was abuzz with gossip as to who he was. He quickly surveyed of the guests already seated, and noticed that there were four small, childlike creatures sitting together among the elves. He recognised them as perenniath, halflings, or hobbits as they were known to men and dwarves. Though isolated, Thranduil's kingdom boasted an impressive library, in which Legolas had spent many happy hours.
His attention then turned to a riot of red hair, under which he could barely make out two eyes surreptitiously staring at him. A full beard the same violent red colour as the hair only confirmed his suspicions. A dwarf. Though the elves of Mirkwood had no dealings with their kind, he had been taught that they were stubborn and headstrong, with a tendency to hold a grudge. One to watch, then, Legolas decided. But then the dishes began to be served, and Lord Elrond rose from his seat.
"My friends! Today we dine in peace and happiness. We also have a guest; Legolas!" He the gestured towards the cloaked stranger, who began to speak.
" I am Legolas, prince of Greenwood, known now as Mirkwood. You may know of my people as evil spirits, who snatch babes out of their cradles and steal men's breath in their sleep. But we are not. We are simple dwellers of the forest, fighting against an evil greater that even our might alone. I bear you no ill will, nor do any of my people. I pray that all now in this last haven may never again be touched by the cruel hand of war, nor feel the dry breath of death on their face. This I promise you, by my sword, will, and secret."
Legolas took a deep breath, and yanked the off the hood that covered his face.