**Arrgh** Sorry if this chapter is very short and pointless, I have a whole part thought up that I want to get to, but I will eventually, I just have to get
through THESE chapters. If only my muse hadn't have run out on me. Oh, I've got a ~NEW~ Muse, her
name is Izabel and she's not very competant, but she did give me a wicked cool idea in the bathtup
*y do all idea's happen in the washroom* so that may appear sooner or later *grins* so you'll just
hafta put up with me**

Legolas sat on his bed, flipping clothes into a leather travel bag. Likara wasn't happy, for some reason. Leaning back, he tugged a hand through his hair. She knew that he would be going, he had seen her jaw fall when he told Frodo he would give his protection. Why else could she be upset with him? Frowning he threw a last shirt into the bag and tied it. He looked across the bed to his bow. It had been given to him when he had come of age, pale white smooth oak, worn from use. The elf prince walked towards it and picked it up, plucking the string, before unwinding it. (Had better make some new arrows, if we're to leave so soon.)

Now, with his mind on the topic of weponery and fighting, he thought of Likara. She had no skill whatsoever in combat, couldn't shoot to save her soul, last time she picked up a sword, she had cut herself on the blade. (How can she come on a journey that will surely involve fighting...) Sighing, he picked up his long knife and bow. The least he could do was *Try* and teach her a bit before they left... right?


`*~*~*~*~*~*~*

*It could be worse right? Likara could be astonishingly good at wepons.. Right? Well... we'll see
how she does when Leggy starts helping her out. *grins annoyingly* I'm so weird*