DISCLAIMER: I own nothing. Not LOTR. Not California. Not a new red shiny mustang that I long to have. NOTHING. NADA.

A/N: this story can be mary-sueish. Don't like it-don't read it. Flames: no thanks I don't think my self-confidence can go any lower. Nicely telling me how I can improve as a writer is welcomed. Thank you all.

A/N: The elvish sucks I know. I'm never going to do it again. I just have the girls understand so you'll understand.

Chapter 9: Sticky Situations

With this announcement she kicked Aluin in the shins and stormed out of the room.

"Ow!" holding his shin he looked up at Laure, who was snickering, "this is not funny."

"From were I'm standing it sure is. Go after her you dolt!" she said.

Giving her evil looks he went out after Ilsa.

After the door was closed Laure collapsed into a nearby chair.

"Man they real have the hots for each other. What do you think guys?"

"I do not know what you mean by 'hots'," said Inwir.

"I have learned to tune her out. It is a useful tool would you like me to teach you the technique?" Legolas turned to face Inwir.

"Aren't you just so cute. I'm going for munchies, stay here if you want. Looks like we're going on an adventure."

Laure walked out of the room stretching her arms through the air. She could hear raised voices coming from the garden. Following it she noticed that Aluin had caught up with Ilsa.

"Come here!" he says, "Forgive me."

"I don't want it!" she cries.

"Forgive me. I'm sorry Ilsa."

"Go kiss an orc!" she says trying to turn away.

"Stop. Alas, please forgive me."

Seeing as they already had an audience Laure continued to search for the kitchens. She found them after many wrong turns and lapses in attention. Apple tarts, fresh from the ovens, were laid out on the counter. Laure's stomach growled from the sweet aroma. Seeing that the coast was clear she slipped to the tabletop.

"Oh," taking a whiff of the pungent fragrance, "I could kiss whoever made this little slice of heaven."

"That would be Salme, and although she would enjoy the compliment I do not think she would relish getting a kiss from you," an amused voice said.

Nearly dropping the sweet Laure whisked around to face the stranger.

"Don't hurt yourself. My name is Arwen Evenstar," she said.

Laure swallowed the bite she had took, held out her hand, "Laure. Nice to meet you. That's a cool name. Arwen Evenstar, very not of this world mysterious like."

The hand presented to her puzzled Arwen. In good faith she took it despite the apple filling attached to it.

"You know that dinner will be served in half-an hour."

"Really? Will they have more of these things?"

Arwen laughed at this comment; "Yes I believe so."

"Good."

The next day, after the group had been in Rivendell for 2 months, Laure awoke to Ilsa hopping on her bed trying to wake her.

"Come on it's a great day!"

"Need sleep."

"You can get sleep later! We are to be at the training field in ten minutes! Let's go you. Legolas is going to help me with shooting."

"Ilsa its not that hard to shoot a gun."

Ilsa started to laugh.

"Not a gun, goofus, an arrow."

"Your not actually going to kill anyone, are you?"

Ilsa had left the room, but poked her head back in.

"If it's between them and me, I choose me. You do know there is a chance that we will have to fight, right?"

"Couldn't we just settle it rationally?"

"You're the warrior, you tell me."

XXXX

Later at the training ground

XXXX

"That's it. Now pull your hand back until it is about equal to your mouth," standing by Ilsa Legolas corrected, "Keep your eyes open. How are you to see the target it you close your eyes? Let go of the string when you are ready."

When released the arrow made a proper twang, landing with a thud in the blue area of the target.

"I hit the blue! Laure I hit the target!" as her first time to hit anything she was ecstatic.

Laure was currently at the other side of the premise doing a sword dance. To Ilsa it looked imaginary and romantic. Every once in a while the sun would glint off the steel of the blade, drawing the eye. Ilsa rushed over to her, patiently waiting for her to be done.

"Wow. You're really good at that," she said.

"Thanks I just found that out a minute ago that I could do it. You think they'll let us wear pants?" she whispered.

"No we have to act how we would act."

Gandalf, with his staff in his hand, came down to where they were standing.

"We are ready to go. We will meet in the entrance hall in a half-hour," he solemnly strolled away.

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-MeemyslefandI