Standard disclaimer – not mine, no money, just for fun

Thanks to everyone for reading and extra special thanks for all of the reviews – it is so wonderful to know that someone is reading and enjoying! Thanks, as always, to Sarah for her dedicated beta work - I wouldn't be doing this without her.

List of OC's:

Galvreth – Thranduil's closest advisor and friend

Ivran – Legolas's oldest brother, the Crown Prince of Mirkwood

Ellarian – Legolas's middle brother

Tûrin – Captain of the Mirkwood Home Guard and friend of Legolas

Rissien – Lieutenant of the Mirkwood Home Guard and friend of Legolas

Tathar – Mirkwood's greatest archer, set to compete in an archery competition in Imladris that takes place every 100 years

~*~

Chapter 7

The day came and went quickly, the contest taking up all of it. There were more than 30 participants and it took seemingly forever to pare the list down to a more reasonable number. Legolas made it through the first cut with ease, hitting every target square in the bull's-eye, no matter the distance, even splitting several of his arrows. No other Elf had seen the same success; only Haldir had even come close. But the next day's shooting would be from horseback, something that he had never been given any formal instruction at, his father having whisked him away to begin his career as advisor to Ivran before his archery teacher could move him to the next phase of training. He had continued to practice on his own after that but without formal tutelage, he had no doubt that his form would be found to be lacking. He knew he would continue to hit targets but the judging would take into account standards based on more than just that.

Knowing that his mount was headstrong and difficult, Legolas requested that he be allowed to visit the stables and speak with Harma before heading to dinner. He would need all of the help he could get if he hoped to be successful. Tûrin approved the visit but with Rissien in tow. Legolas grimaced – the grumbling guard would not help with his intent of calming his already high-strung horse. But he had no choice in the matter so, with a frustrated sigh, he led them down the darkening path, admonishing Rissien along the way.

"You stay outside. You will only irritate Harma and my whole purpose in going is to calm him and convince him to be on his best behaviour tomorrow. Understand?"

"If you think for one minute that I am leaving you alone, you have lost your mind, tithen pen. If you disappear on me, Tûrin will see that I have night duty for the rest of the century."

"You will be just outside of the door! You are being absurd. All I did was go to the stable. It is not like I ran away…"

"It matters not, Legolas. I'm going with you."

"Tathar!" Legolas hissed under his breath, though there was no one nearby to hear. It was now dusk and most Elves had taken themselves to the baths, or to dinner.

"You are lucky I don't call you Legolas Thranduilion, penneth. You have made me quite angry as I tally the number of things that I will not be doing for the next hundred years or so, thanks to you. Such as eating, drinking, breathing…" Rissien said, counting off each by raising a finger in the air, as he spoke. "I am dead, tithen pen, and you have killed me."

Legolas rolled his eyes and shook his head, groaning. "You are overreacting. It will not be that bad. If I can't protect you, surely Ivran and Ellarian can. And Galvreth, too. He helped to convince Ivran to allow me to come."

"Yes, Legolas. You will take all of us with you, when you fall. I have no doubt of that." This time, Legolas's groan was covered by the bang of the stable door against the wall as he flung it open with quite a bit more force than he had intended.

"And you are worried about me upsetting your horse," Rissien commented, dryly, as they entered the stable. It was even darker inside than out and it took a moment for their eyes to adjust to the absence of light. Something was amiss, Legolas could sense at once and the sight of horse's meandering about in the corridor outside of their stalls, once he could see clearly, proved him right. Rissien tensed behind him and the sound of metal sliding against metal as the guard pulled his sword from its sheath rang out in the silence. "Get behind, me, Legolas. Now!" he hissed. Legolas did not so much disobey the order as embellish upon it – while he backed toward Rissien he also pulled an arrow swiftly from his quiver and nocked his bow. Rissien growled, "Behind me, I said!"

A soft sound made Legolas look up in time to see a dark shape in the rafters of the stable. He had only a second to react and it wasn't enough – something large struck him hard in the chest and knocked him to the ground. He had a momentary struggle with what appeared to be a bag of feed; his efforts to free himself further thwarted by an all-consuming desire to sneeze, which he somehow managed to control. With great effort he finally disentangled himself, flinging the heavy bag to the side before rolling in the opposite direction and drawing his legs up into a low crouch. He could see that the door at the opposite end of the aisle stood open, casting a sliver of light that illuminated the stable in varying and dusty shades of light and dark

Simultaneously, Legolas became aware of two things; one - the sliver of light was obliterated as something moved through the open doorway and two - a complete and utter stillness emanated from behind him where Rissien had been standing. It took him not even a breath to decide which to concern himself with. After glancing around him to ensure that there were no more dark figures toting heavy bags, or worse yet, he turned his attention to the silent figure at his back. Rissien lay sprawled on the floor, unmoving. Legolas crawled to his side and felt desperately for a pulse at the guard's neck. He was rewarded with a strong one and made no attempt to hide his sigh of relief. As if that sound had brought him to his senses, his friend's eyes fluttered open.

"Are you all right?" Legolas asked, leaning closer, trying to determine what had happened to lay the Elf out.

"Fine," Rissien muttered, wiping a shaking hand across his face. "You knocked me down when you fell. Hit my head. Mmf!" He sat up quickly, rubbing the back of his head, his not quite alert eyes darting about the shadowed stable. With sudden clarity, he placed a firm hand at the small of Legolas's back, bending him in half so that he was lying diagonally across the guard's lap. At the same time, Rissien slid smoothly out from beneath his charge and stood, using the hand he still held to Legolas's back as both a springboard to push off against and an encouragement for the Elf to stay down. "Do not move, Ernil nîn. And do not argue."

Legolas had no intention of arguing – that would be a waste of words. Instead, he acted, launching to his feet as soon as the hand was no longer holding him down, joining Rissien at his side. "He went out of the door, there," he said, pointing while ignoring the dark look that the guard shot him. "There could be others, though."

"What happened?" Rissien whispered, eyes darting around the stable, resigned to the fact that he would not easily get Legolas to stay back, knowing, too, that his charge had information that he needed. He chose instead to satisfy himself with a not gentle shove to Legolas's hip as he forced the young Elf behind him.

"Given that the stall doors are open and the horses out, I would assume they are thieves," Legolas conjectured, allowing the shove without resistance. "I think they have gone. I sense no one in here save the two of us and the animals."

"Aye," Rissien agreed. They moved further into the aisle. Manoeuvring between the horses milling about, they gradually made their way to the opposite end of the stable. Rissien peered cautiously through the open door. Several horses stood outside, as well and Legolas could see over Rissien's shoulder that more horses were running across the field behind the stables. He could see no sign of any person, Elf or otherwise.

Rissien rubbed the bump on his head again before turning back to the stable. We need to get these horses rounded up. Come. Let's get some help. Someone will have to chase the ones that have gotten out of the stable too and we can't do it all. Lord Elrond needs to be told…"

"What is going on here?" a voice cried from behind as several Elves came running from around the side of the stable. "Why are you letting the horses out?" A tall Elf that Legolas knew to be one of the stable hands glared accusingly at Rissien and Legolas.

"We did not, you fool!" Rissien growled. "Someone else was here. We know not who. We need to get these animals rounded up, inside and out."

"I will help gather those that have escaped," Legolas said. "You should not ride with that bump on your head." Legolas made to step back into the stable to get Harma but Rissien's iron grip around his wrist held him firmly in place.

"Nay, my friend. You will stay here with me. It is the job of these Elves to keep track of the stables. Let them."

The stable hand's accusing look turned to one of deep dislike as he flicked his wrist at the other Elves standing and staring. "Find a mount and let us go. I recognize some of our lord's most prized possessions loose here and I'm sure some of the mounts for the archery contest tomorrow will be gone as well. You two had better hope none have come to harm," the stable hand said, returning his attention to Rissien. "Or suspicion might keep you from your chance at a win, should it fall upon your heads."

"What did you say?" Rissien breathed as he took a step closer to the angry Elf, his hands balling into fists.

"You heard me," the stable hand sniffed.

Legolas placed a calming hand on Rissien's shoulder, though he too felt nothing but anger, his tempered by shock that anyone would even consider that they had done such a thing. That shock was almost as bad as the one that followed shortly after as he realized just how easy it would be to believe. Another stable hand appeared behind them, having entered through the door Legolas and Rissien had used. He was wide-eyed and near terrified.

"Templa is gone!" he cried and then pointed past Legolas's and Rissien's shoulders toward the horses that were now past the paddock and moving toward the low hills in the distance.

"Well, don't just stand there," the one in charge, shouted. "Go after him! Ai! I'll be reduced to mucking out stables for a century if that one escapes! Go!" Legolas watched them head out with a sinking heart, wondering if Elrond's anger at the loss of his prized stallion might make him more willing to believe in the Mirkwood Elves' duplicity should the animal be injured. This had the makings of an incident that could impact relations between Imladris and Mirkwood. Legolas's future aspirations as a warrior would mean nothing if such a thing should occur and he would never live it down if his adar found him to be responsible, which, rightly or wrongly, he would.

After working into the evening, the horses were at last gathered and examined for injuries before being put back in stalls. The next morning at breakfast, Legolas's worst fears were realized as the clamour of voices in the dining hall dropped to hushed whispering when he and the rest of his group entered and all eyes were upon them as they made their way to an empty table. Estel and the twins wasted no time joining them, however, and assuring them that Lord Elrond not only did not believe the rumours but had, in no uncertain terms, made it clear that such talk would not be tolerated, insisting that the perpetrators were after his prize stallion and foal, something that the Elves of Mirkwood would have no interest in.

"In fact," Elladan further pointed out in a voice that carried across the still too quiet room. "The idea that any of you would be out to frighten or injure the other contestant's horses is ludicrous, at best." He leaned back in his chair, folding his arms across his chest. "If Tathar were behind in the scores, perhaps it would make sense but as it is, he is the only one in the contest above reproach. Even those that failed to make it to the next round are not in the clear as one of them might be a little less than accepting of his lot in life and might seek to punish those with greater skill."

Slow smiles spread across the faces at the table and all began to tuck into their food in earnest, all but Legolas that is. As the voices picked up once more in the hall and his friends were happily eating and visiting, Legolas felt pressure building in the pit of his stomach unlike any he had felt up to now. What if he did not perform well today? The tide of thought might yet turn against him once it was discovered that his skill at shooting from horseback proved sorely lacking. He spent the meal picking at his food and avoiding Estel's concerned gaze, imagining in his mind how those eyes would look clouded with suspicion.

The number of participants had been reduced to 20 after the first day's scores, 20 of the best archers in all of Middle Earth. And it was clear that their skills were going to be tested to the utmost, as the day's events would be a challenge to all but the best. Their task was to shoot arrows at a stationary target in the centre of a ring, while the horse raced around it in a tight circle. They would be graded on accuracy and time to complete the circle so their skill at shooting would be matched with their skill at horsemanship. Legolas again felt keenly his lack of training as the Elves lined up on their steeds. Legolas's mount was anything but calm as they waited their turn. He struggled to hold the horse in check as Harma continually sidestepped out of line, first in one direction, then the other.

The other Elves eyed him warily, some in outright anger. "You should learn to control that horse, Tathar," one had chastised him. "He's making our mounts nervous." Legolas could only apologize. Harma was acting even more jittery than normal and he began to seriously worry for his chances. As his score had been the highest from the previous day, he was given the last shooting slot and by the time his turn arrived, his own nerves were frazzled along with those of his horse.

He took his place at the entrance to the large corral that had been set up for this part of the competition. An Elf, sitting atop the fence held a hand up in the air, watching while a fresh, straw filled dummy was affixed to the pole in the centre of the field. Legolas waited, patiently, drawing again on that inner strength that he had always been able to rely upon to calm him. His horse however felt none of that calmness, shying first left and then right with each press of Legolas's knee. Before he could make yet another attempt to calm the animal, the Elf's hand came down.

Legolas gave Harma a slight kick and the horse surged into the ring, almost as if he were relieved to at last be allowed to run. His speed was indeed great and Legolas had to hang on tightly with his knees as the target came into view. As soon as he squeezed though, Harma bucked and kicked, throwing Legolas first forward, then backward. He was still able to compensate and his arrow embedded itself at what would have been the heart had the target been a person. He lowered himself to grasp Harma around the neck and whispered soothing words in the horse's ear as he urged him quickly around the target and back to the end of the ring again.

Nine more times he would have to circle the horse and shoot the target and already the animal had nearly thrown him. Well aware that time counted almost as much as accuracy, Legolas gave the horse another slight kick and hung on for dear life. Each turn around the dummy got progressively worse with Harma's bucking and rearing slowing him terribly. Legolas had no doubt that he would lose the time portion of the competition but his accuracy had, thus far, been nothing short of perfect. He was splitting the arrows he had landed on previous rounds, each penetrating where the heart would have been located.

On the last round, Harma seemed to have at last reached the end of his endurance. As Legolas prepared to take his final shot, the horse reared completely back, forcing him to hang on with nothing more than his knees as he fired. The animal then immediately kicked out with his back legs and veered off to the side causing Legolas to lose all control. His body continued its forward motion and he felt nothing but air beneath him – air at first that is, just before his body struck the hard, packed earth of the ring.

"I am not disqualified, am I?" he cried out, coughing and sputtering as he tried to rise, pushing off with his right hand. Pain shot through his wrist and he fell back again, face first into the dirt, unable to stifle a moan. Pain gave way to a sense of panic, however, and he made another try at taking his feet, this time using his left hand to push off with. "Please tell me I am not disqualified!" he repeated, a desperate edge to his voice even though he had no idea if anyone was close enough to hear him.

Glorfindel appeared at his side and halted his second attempt to get to his feet with a firm hand to his shoulder forcing him back to the ground. "Nay, penneth," the golden-haired warrior soothed. "Stay still until we can look you over." It was then that Legolas became aware of the small crowd gathered around him and his fear that he would lose the tournament was immediately replaced by shame and embarrassment. Glorfindel knelt in the dirt at his side, keeping a hand locked on his shoulder as if he might again attempt to rise. "Be at peace, penneth. You are not disqualified. You did not fall until after you completed your run, though I must say, I do not see how you managed to stay on that warg of a horse. What possessed you to bring such an unruly creature along as your mount?"

"He is not usually like that, my lord. I swear it! I don't know what has gotten into him today."

A hand came into Legolas's view and grasped Glorfindel by the shoulder. The blond warrior stood, giving way to Lord Elrond himself. "Are you injured?" he asked, concerned eyes sweeping Legolas up and down.

"His wrist is hurt, my lord," Glorfindel said.

"Let me see, penneth," the Lord of Imladris commanded. Legolas was reminded of the insistent healers in Mirkwood and realized that they could take more than a few lessons from the Lord of Imladris – refusal was not an option. He gulped, putting aside any fear he had that Elrond might somehow identify him and held forth his wrist without complaint. It was already turning several shades of purple. The healer gingerly felt the bone, stopping when Legolas hissed in pain.

"I am sorry," he said quietly, capturing Legolas's eyes with his own kindly gaze. Legolas found it impossible to shy away. They had a decidedly calming effect and he felt his heart rate begin to slow and his breathing become even again. "I do not think it is broken but it is more than likely sprained," Elrond continued, gently rotating Legolas's hand. Again, Legolas could not quite bite back a gasp of pain and Elrond desisted at once. "It is good that tomorrow is a rest day. There is a chance you will again be fit to compete when it is time to begin the tournament once more. I would not force it, however." The kind eyes turned stern.

"I – I can shoot with my left," Legolas stammered.

"But you will still need to steady the bow with your right. Your injured wrist would still bear a burden. I will check it on the morrow and we will see."

"I must compete, my lord. It matters not how it feels." Elrond's piercing eyes leant closer and it was all Legolas could do not to pull away.

"We shall see, on the morrow," he said with a finality that brooked no argument. Do you hurt anywhere else? Can you stand?"

"I – I am fine. I have no other pain."

"My lord?" Glorfindel's blond head appeared over Elrond's shoulder.

"Yes," Elrond answered though his eyes did not leave Legolas's face.

"There is something that you need to see."

Elrond paused for a moment longer before gently placing the wrist he still held in Legolas's lap. "Elladan will get you a wrist-guard that will keep you from bending that unnecessarily and allow it to rest and recuperate. He stood but not before patting Legolas on the shoulder and once again his eyes turned kindly. "If you need anything for the pain, please do not hesitate to let me know, or Elladan if you are more comfortable with him. I know you have all become friends."

"I thank you, my lord. I will be fine, I'm sure."

Elrond smiled again before turning to join Glorfindel. They strode purposefully across the field, their heads, one dark, one burnished gold, close together as they walked. Legolas tracked their movements though Elladan and Elrohir dropped to their knees, one on each side. Tûrin, Rissien and Estel crowded in too, blocking his view.

"What are they doing?" Legolas queried, struggling to see between the half dozen legs that suddenly surrounded him.

Rissien threw a glance over his shoulder and answered, "They are looking at Harma. Probably deciding whether to shoot him now or wait for me to do it."

"That is not funny," Legolas said.

"I did not intend it to be," Rissien shot back. "You could have been killed."

"I'll go see what they are talking about," Estel said. Legolas gave him a thankful look and the man returned it with a smile. "I'll be back as soon as I wrangle something out of one, or the both of them."

Elladan placed what appeared to be an overly long bracer on Legolas's wrist, lacing it up loosely. It was stiff like a guard would be but it extended down past the wrist and covered most of Legolas's hand, his fingers the only thing left uncovered. He found it impossible to bend his wrist. He frowned but Elladan narrowed his eyes and drew his lips into a thin, tight line making it perfectly obvious that as long as he was around, the guard would stay put. Legolas gave an audible sigh but followed it with a nod of his head, accepting the inevitable.

"Come, mellon nîn," Elrohir said, standing smoothly and reaching a hand down to help Legolas up. Legolas grasped it with his good hand and soon found Elladan's under his elbow on his wounded side, supporting him as he stood.

"Nothing else is injured, is it?" Elladan asked stepping back to assess Legolas's stance.

"No, no, only my pride. I have never fallen from my horse."

"And I know why you did this time," an eager Estel announced as he strode toward the small group.

"What did you discover," Elladan asked, still keeping a steadying hand under Legolas's elbow which the young Elf found he appreciated as the task of standing had sent the blood rushing from his head and black spots dancing before his eyes.

"Tathar's comment about Harma being unusually difficult combined with the trouble at the stables yesterday evening set Glorfindel wondering so he went to check over Tathar's horse. He found a burr right at the point where Tathar's knee would be placed to direct the horse, something he would have to do when simply riding and even more so when directing Harma around the target." He turned and faced Legolas then. "It was flattened on one side so you would not feel it and was of a similar colour to the horse's coat so it would not be easily visible unless looked for. Even if you had found it, I wouldn't imagine you would be suspicious."

"So why are you suspicious?" Rissien asked. "It might be simply a burr and if Tathar had curried his horse last night like he should have, it would have been discovered and removed."

"Tathar failed to curry Harma last night because of all of the excitement with the escaped horses and the level of discomfort with him being anywhere near the stables after the idea was bandied about that he was responsible," Tûrin defended.

"I meant not to be critical, mellon nîn. I was just pointing out facts," Rissien responded.

"But that might have been part of the plan," Estel interrupted. "The horses were let go, not to steal Templa but to cover up the culprit's escape and also to make it more likely that we would be too busy rounding up escapees to have time to groom them later. Suspicion falling on Tathar was an added bonus.

"You never answered my question," Rissien broke in. "Why are you suspicious? It could be just a burr and you are making this into something when it is nothing."

"Perhaps we are," Estel nodded, shooting Legolas a disarming smile when he saw the archer's brow crease at the guard's freely expressed scepticism. "It seems too convenient that a burr ended up in a place that would make controlling the horse a challenge, at best." Legolas noticed the slight darkening of the adan's eyes and he wondered if there was something more to the story. Estel smiled again before flicking his eyes quickly to each of his brothers, in turn. It was no more than a passing glance but it was enough that Legolas's own suspicion was fuelled. There was something more that Estel knew, something that he had no intention of saying in front of the Mirkwood contingent.

"Well, their plan, if it was a plan, may yet have worked if Tathar cannot compete in a day's time," Tûrin pointed out.

"I will compete, have no fear," Legolas insisted.

"We shall see, on the morrow," Elladan said, echoing his father's words. "And until then, let us say no more about this burr. We would like for whoever is responsible to think that they have gotten away with their ruse." Everyone in the small group nodded their agreement.

"Come, Tathar. I think you have had enough excitement for one evening," Tûrin said, stepping forward to take the side where Elladan stood, the older twin giving way, loosing his grip on Legolas's elbow only when Tûrin's strong hand was ready and able to take his place. Legolas thought briefly about shaking off the hand and walking proudly forward, head held high, but found he could not – a bone deep exhaustion settled on him suddenly, the ever present hum of ache from his injured wrist making him feel weaker still. He found himself grateful for the steadying hand for he had every belief that rather than walk proudly forward, he would more than likely stumble and fall on his face.

Rissien, always the less apt to fuss over Legolas than Tûrin or Ellarian, took Elrohir's place at Legolas's other side and, as if sensing his charge's fatigue, wrapped a strong arm around his waist and began to half lead, half carry the young Elf toward the barracks. "Come Tathar," the guard said, his voice smooth, betraying no emotion whatsoever. "Let us go and partake of one of those common baths you are so enamoured of." But then Legolas felt a brush of air against the side of his face as a voice that cracked with emotion whispered in his ear "If you ever scare me like that again, tithen pen, you will not sit for a week. I do not want to know this world without you in it."

Legolas had opened his mouth to issue a witty retort, making fun of the guard's obvious and unusual concern when the last sentence sank in and he found that he could not, in fact, say anything, so moved was he by the heartfelt response on the part of someone who rarely if ever gave voice to how he felt. Instead, Legolas meekly nodded his head and added, "I will do my best, mellon nîn."

No more was said and before long, Legolas found himself bathed, fed and tucked into bed like an Elfling and for once, he didn't mind the treatment at all.

Dictionary:

Penneth – young one

Adar - father

Adan - man

tithen pen – little one

mellon nîn – my friend

Ernil nîn – my prince

I wanted to thank Tryal, Jenn and Anon for your reviews! I wanted to make sure you know how very much your words are appreciated!!