A/N: With the tiny discussion settled in the last chapter (I'm going cliché, so yes, it's a warning of future plotlines), we can roll onto the more entertaining stuff. A word of warning: the story will from now on contain very, very mild hints of slash. Nothing graphical, and nothing that should be able to quirk anyone unless you're of an extremely sensitive nature. If you want more descriptive things, go look somewhere else. But, still, don't forget that reviews makes the plotbunny happy, and a happy bunny means faster updates…

As always, I don't really own anything general apart from Mel and Taratoun. In this chapter, Larein is under my ownership as well.

Chapter 8: The training grounds

The conversation around the table soon turned to more comfortable matters, and they talked until noon, at which Legolas finally grew too restless, being unused to sitting still for this long. Thankfully, the other five seemed to need fresh air as well, and, as they rose to their feet, Legolas asked if Mel would be interested in seeing the training grounds - which the dark elf smiled and agreed to.

Falling into step beside Legolas, Mel however was quieter than usually, which made Legolas wonder if something was wrong with his friend, or if the conversation at breakfast had caused different memories to surface. However, he decided to not press the matter, having from the very beginning found out that Mel preferred to keep most things to himself, and, if it was something he would not mind telling, he would do so on his own.

Instead, he settled for carefully studying the face of the dark elf, and noticed that Mel had surprisingly soft features, even compared to other elves. Even despite his skin that carried the same colour as the fertile earth of Lothlorien, and his nearly white hair, Mel definitely had a type of beauty that quickly would make him a preferred target by any single female – and male, for that matter – within Mirkwood. Frowning lightly, Legolas mused over the odd feelings within his spirit, mentally chastising himself for even thinking about his friend as anymore than a friend…

They soon reached the training grounds, and the Mirkwood prince found a light smile crossing his face at the familiar sounds of elves training with sword or bow. He recalled the numerous hours he, too, had spent in the very same place, although there was no longer the same need for defense as in the day where Sauron still lived. However, seeing as spiders and orcs could still be found in the world, no one had quite ceased keeping their blades sharp and their muscles honed. That, and then it was a friendly way of letting out any aggressions and thus preventing someone from unleashing their anger at a living creature.

As they got closer and beyond the trees circling the area, the training grounds appeared. A large, circular space in its centre had been covered with sand and rubble, creating a smooth, flat and slightly soft surface ideal for training in hand-to-hand combat, as well as different kicks and throws. This area was filled with several pairs of elves, and a few trios, that trained in the arts of either. Along one of the cardinal directions, four elves stood with bows and arrows, and, from what Legolas could see, had a friendly wager about who could hit most precisely – he believed it to be so due to the simple fact that each arrow was not hitting the center of the target, but rather different specific spots, and the three other elves would fire at the same place.

"If you want to practice in anything, feel free," Legolas said with a smile to his friend, who was watching the area with curiosity. "I'll watch for now, though. I doubt anyone would let me hold a bow, much less a sword, in my condition."

"Leglas not need worry," Mel chuckled. "Mel keep Leglas from grounds too."

"My prince! How good to see you have returned among us!" a voice suddenly yelled over the entire glade, interrupting any retort Legolas could have made.

Looking in the direction of the voice, Legolas frowned in disapproval, noticing Larien walking their way. The elf was higher than most, and as broad over the shoulders as a human, with brown hair that had been cut short. However, it was not the looks of this elf that appalled Legolas, but rather his behavior – Larien had long since gained a well-earned reputation of flirting shamelessly with everyone - that be elleth or ellon, married or unmarried - that happened to catch his eye.

"You must be the newest royal pet, Mel," Larien said, as he arrived near the two others, and cast an approving look at the smaller dark elf, and gave a flirting, superior smile that made Legolas' hand clench around his cane. "Mel… That must indeed derive from 'melanin'. Not that I can blame the prince for such as you have the looks of a blushing maiden…"

Mel frowned lightly, crocking his head ever so slightly in the fashion that Legolas had learned meant he was utterly confused and did not understand the words spoken. Larien apparently took it as confirmation, grabbed around the dark elf's jaw and brought his lips into contact with Mel's. He never managed more than the briefest of touches, however, before Mel's knee came up into contact with his groin. As the tall elf broke away with a howl of pain, the dark elf spun out of his grip, and dropped to the ground, kicking the tall elf's legs out from beneath him. As Larien began falling, the dark elf spun again, raising on one hand and delivered a solid kick to the other elf's jaw, sending him flying through the air. Leaping back to his feet, Mel glared down at the tall elf as his wiped his mouth and then spat at the ground near Larien's head, his eyes burning with an anger that Legolas never before had seen in his friend.

"Anariia satuttu, verata yrch!" the dark elf hissed, his voice laced with malice, and he reached down, roughly hauling the tall elf back up by his shirt, holding the elf's face close to his and snarled: "Touch Mel again, and you lose what make you male…"

After those words, he released his grip on Larien's collar, causing the other elf to drop back to the ground, and glared up at those who had observed the situation – looking, Legolas noticed, just slightly apologetic. However, only smiled and grins greeting him, and more than a few clapped their hands. It was the first person they had seen who had openly struck and following threatened the big elf after having fallen victim to one of his advances.

"Way to go, Mel!" one of the younger elves cheered, moving forward and clapping the dark elf's shoulder.

Several others did the same, and soon Mel was surrounded by beaming, laughing people who all now had found a new person to idolize – only one helped Larien to his feet and aided him in limping over to one of the benches near the archers. Legolas smiled to himself, happy that Mel had grown popular so fast, although a tiny voice in the back of his mind told him that he would probably face the same wrath as Larien, should he confront Mel with his own, growing feelings.

"You have to teach us how to do that!" another of the trainees cried, giving Mel a very light tug in the direction of the sandy circle. "I've never seen anyone move like that!"

Laughing, seemingly to have grown as calm as usual, Mel followed, giving a light glance back at Legolas who nodded with a smile and moved to sit on another of the benches to watch. Mel seemed more than happy to teach, and even with his limited vocabulary, he quickly had several young elves doing the strange, but effective, kind of kick. Several other moves were taught by the dark elf, each one following the theme of the first that kept each movement flowing together with the first and created a seemingly endless string of attacks - and Legolas began realizing why he had never seen Mel carrying around any type of weapons. His abilities with fire, combined with these skills in martial arts made the dark elf more than ordinary dangerous…