"Take it back, you goblin!"

"ARGH!"

Yrinvan struggled to get away from the angry girl's grip. He thrashed violently, then finally broke free and, filled with anger, threw a punch at her face. She dodged and then charged at him and tackled him back to the ground once again.

"TAKE IT BACK!" she roared.

Yrinvan noticed her release her grip and get off of him and looked up, surprised. Then he saw the young princess's mother holding her arm gently, but firmly.

"L-Lady Arwen," he stammered. "I… I was just-"

"You are in no trouble from me," she replied. "Excuse me, I must have a word with my daughter." She nodded to a blond Man standing near her. "Legolas, this is Yrinvan, Zerameth's…" She paused, searching for the right word. "Friend."

Yrinvan snorted. "Not at the moment," he mumbled under his breath.

Arwen escorted Zerameth away and Legolas looked to Yrinvan. "Hello," he said.

That was when Yrinvan realized that Legolas wasn't a Man at all… he was an elf! He must have been, for his name was elvish and his hair was longer than most Men's. He was also quite beautiful and fair-skinned for a Man. "You're a… an elf!"

"That I am," he replied.

"I've never met an elf before. How do you do, sir?"

Legolas smiled. "Never met an elf? Lady Arwen was one at one time, you know. Have you never seen her father Elrond Halfelven? Or her other relatives, such as Galadriel or Celeborn?"

Yrinvan shook his head. "I was always assured that the fact that she was elvish was a myth, never confirmed. Lord Aragorn is a Man, a whole man. I always assumed it was an exaggeration, for she does have fair skin and lovely features."

Legolas smiled. "Indeed, she does. Even for an elf."

Arwen came back with Zerameth. "I apologize, Yrinvan," she said. "Are you all right?"

"I'm perfectly all right. Zerameth couldn't hurt me with a thousand swords."

Zerameth glared at him. "Why, you little-"

"Shh!" Arwen ordered. "Hush! I have someone I want you to meet. This is Legolas, Lord of Mirkwood. Legolas, my daughter."

Legolas tilted his head down for a slight bow of his head. "Lady Zerameth."

She gave a quick nod in stead of a curtsy. She was in no mood to show decent matters when she was this angry. Mostly at Yrinvan; all she wanted to do was hurt him. She couldn't care less about one of her mother's friends. "Legolas."

Arwen gave her a sharp look. "Lord," she corrected.

Zerameth sighed. "Lord Legolas."

"I hope you will join us for dinner, Yrinvan," Arwen said, turning to the young boy. "If you have no other plans."

Yrinvan nodded. "Yes, of course. I shall look forward to it."

Arwen smiled at him. "Splendid. Forgive me, Legolas, you must want to bathe. Come."

Arwen led Legolas away and Zerameth turned to Yrinvan and resumed glaring at him. "You still didn't take it back," she informed him, crossing her arms across her chest.

Yrinvan hung his head. "Fine. I take it back."

"What was that?" Zerameth asked smirking.

"You're right, OK?!"

"That's better. Now come, we have to practice."

She started towards the weapons room and Yrinvan reluctantly followed. "Must we?" he wined. "You practice endless days and nights. Surely we could rest a bit before supper?"

"Don't be silly," Zerameth replied. "If I can get better, I will. That's it. Now…" She stopped to look at the different weapons hanging around her in the medium-sized room. What would be her weapon of choice today? Bow and arrow? Sword? Ax?

Zerameth couldn't help but smile while she browsed through them. There was nothing she loved more than selecting something to fight with. She finally decided on a sword, her personal favorite, and then wondered which one. When she came across the sword Naymet, she reached up to grab it.

"You can't use that," Yrinvan said. "That's one of the best swords! Your father said we can only use the practice swords to, well… practice."

"What harm can we bring it?" Zerameth replied. "It was made by the elves, you know. Light as a feather, sharp as a nail."

Yrinvan swallowed. "And what if you accidentally hit me?"

"I won't. I'm the best swordsman you'll find in Middle-Earth. I have no accidents."

Yrinvan had to admit, Zerameth was very good with a sword. But he had seen people get harmed in practice by accident, and he didn't want that to happen to him. Zerameth was no better than her father's army, and even they had accidents. Yrinvan didn't want to risk it.

"The practice ones are duller," he said. "Why don't we-"

Zerameth turned to stare him in the eye. "You don't trust me, Yrinvan?"

He blinked. "Well, you tend to get very competitive, and maybe-"

"Oh, don't be such a troll. Pick a sword."

"Actually, I think I'm going into the palace to… talk to… Laesien. Yes. I'll practice with you after we eat."

Zerameth dropped the sword and bolted to the door, beating him. "You have no need to talk to my sister. I need to practice, so you're going to help me."

"You need no practice. I thought you were the best swordsman in Middle-Earth. And if I desire to talk to your sister, I will. I don't need any reason."

Zerameth sighed and stepped away from the door. "All right, then. But after supper we meet here. And notice I'm not happy about this."

"I know. But we've been practicing all day and I need a break." Yrinvan walked out of the room and into the main part of the palace, heading for the library where he knew Laesien would be.

Zerameth smiled at Naymet. "Maybe some other time," she told the beautiful sword as she put it back. "Maybe tonight."