A.N. Sorry it's a bit late, we've been…otherwise engaged with things that you don't care about. Good new is (or bad news, depending) we have pictures up on our site (yes, we have one, it's just not that finished yet…) linked on our profile. I seriously had to force myself to write this, and even then, only when I was really bored. Sorry for the total lack of quality, although it is like some kind of uber-long chapter 16-style back-to-school special…

READ: This is something of an introduction chapter. It's just a space-filler to develop characters a bit and get some important events out of the way. We were gonna have the bit at the very end a little while later, but decided it fit in a little better if we did it now. In future, if we haven't updated in more than a week, check our bio to see if I've put a little note at the bottom. If I haven't, we'll update soon. Promise! *shouts of "about bloody time" from the back*

"…You're cynical and beautiful

You always make a scene

You're monochrome delirious

You're nothing that you seem

I'm drowning in your vanity

Your laugh is a disease

You're dirty and you're sweet

You know you're everything to me…

…Tear down your defences

'Til there's nothing there but me

You're angry when you're beautiful

Your love is such a tease

I'm drowning in your dizzy noise

I wanna feel you scream…"

The Goo Goo Dolls ~ Dizzy

Chapter 21: Practice

Day Seven; I awoke surrounded by the plush quilts of my bed feeling better than I'd felt since my arrival. It had been a long time since I'd needed to sleep every evening, and I was getting the sinking feeling that Legolas had been disturbingly right about my condition. He noticed that I slept with my eyes closed on the journey here, and had commented on it. I told him I preferred it to the traditional Elven way of sleeping, and whenever I could I closed my eyes like a human. In truth, I only did it when I was sure I was safe. With the Prince, I felt safe. I knew for a fact that he would never betray or double-cross me. He was one of life's true, good people. He would never willingly do anything he thought would hurt anyone he loved or cared about. He told me he considered me a friend, so I guessed he wouldn't hand me over to the dark forces any time soon. But it was odd, the way I almost had to sleep with my eyes closed. Elves rarely did so, and only through great exhaustion, mentally and physically.

I didn't feel drained in the slightest during the day, but at night I couldn't keep my eyes open. I closed the matter saying it was a human thing. Narin, the library girl, had given me strict orders to sleep as soon as I felt tired, proclaiming that she was the one Legolas had called in to heal me. I was certainly surprised to find that she had been the one to tend to my wounds when I arrived, seeing as she failed to recognise me when I first met her. Apparently the lighting was terrible when she'd had to heal me, although I suspected she didn't recognise me without dirt crusting over my face.

I found it mildly odd that someone whom I'd thought was nothing more than a girl was a healer. And a good one too, if Legolas was anything to go by. I took back my immediate judgement on her and decided that anyone who could face dealing with poisoned Orc scimitars in the heat of battle could have my respect. I found the more time I spent with her, the more that I grew to like her. She was intelligent, yet naïve, beautiful, yet oblivious to that fact. It saddened me a little to hear her talk of others as if they looked down on her. She seemed to be under the illusion that she was unattractive and useless. When I told her what I thought, she blushed and said I was merely saying so to make her feel better. I was never good at accepting compliments myself, but the main reason for that was because they were very rarely directed towards me.

Shaking the thoughts from my head, I sat up and rubbed my eyes with the heel of my right hand and looked about lazily. Gem had been and gone, leaving the curtains gaping open to ensure I woke up early. She was, apparently, one of the main handmaids for this wing of the palace. I was surprised to learn that in the wing receded most of the elder sons and daughters of nobles and others whom had earned a home in the palace. Including the King's elusive offspring. He apparently had a daughter, as I'd heard references to 'the princess,' but she had not yet shown herself. As well as Legolas, there was another, younger brother whom I guessed was something of a troublemaker, judging by the constant angry, shocked or even in some cases admiring mentions of his name.

All in all, I surmised as I dressed, I was enjoying my little stay in luxury. Of course it was only temporary, I would leave in…maybe two, three weeks? I'd just let things play themselves out as I'd always done, and see what happened.

I stepped out the door, wondering what I could do to pass the time today. There had to be some kind of practice yard or something around somewhere, but no one wanted to tell me where. Whenever I asked Narin or anyone else I saw, they would just say I shouldn't think about training if I was still unwell. Well, I'd prove them wrong, selfish little--

"Yuna! How lovely to see you." Oh God.

"Good Morning, Firowen." He was just coming down the hall from his room when I left the safety of my doorway. And there he was, jaunty grin plastered on his face as he sauntered towards me. "Where are you going?"

"I'm off to the practice courts with Legolas. You?" He said with a forced cheerfulness.

"I think I'll come with you." I waited for the objection. It didn't come.

"Suit yourself. I think the twins are down there as well." I obediently followed him, making sure he didn't suddenly remember why I wasn't supposed to be exerting myself. We made idle conversation on the way through a maze of corridors that seemed completely foreign to my eyes. I heard the clashing of swords and felt my lips twitch upwards. Firowen must have seen it, for he commented a second later. "Eager to get a sword in your hand again? From what I've heard you're quite the fighter, I'd love to see with my own eyes." He winked. I rolled my eyes, having previously got used to his odd behaviour habits more formally known as the Dirty Old Man routine.

"Sure, I'll beat you into a bloody pulp if you really want me to, but I can't see how that would be an attractive prospect." He opened his mouth to retort, mirth glistening in his eyes as I realised my mistake. "Don't," I put my hand up to silence him, not even looking in his direction to know what he was thinking. He looked sickeningly innocent.

"What ever do you mean?"

"Forget it." I finished as he pushed open a set of double doors. None of the elves ruthlessly swiping at their sparring partners with daggers paid any attention to our arrival. As I was led around the large room, I observed the fighter's techniques with a highly critical eye. One had weak wrists, one with a stance that someone half his age would scoff at, one was just a disaster, easily loosing to his partner. As they stopped for a quick rest, I could see that they were, in fact, the twins. Celoril seeming pleased with his victory, while Nólad looked significantly humble as he looked at the other warriors in awe.

I felt an unexpected pang of sympathy for the younger. It was obvious he admired his brother, older by a matter of minutes. Apparently, Nólad had only just survived the birth, and had always been the weaker of the two. Celoril was a born fighter, I could see that from the way he moved, his walk, his confidence. So much like Legolas or Firowen. I didn't even think Nólad knew how to hold a sword, let alone that he trained with the others. He had strength in him, but his technique was definitely a work in progress. I made a mental note to talk to him later.

"Ready to be beaten?" A self-assured, almost mocking tone that I thought I'd never hear from the prince of the Greenwood drifted towards my ears. I looked over to where Firowen stood, smiling ironically at a grinning Legolas.

"Now that's hardly fair, I've already had one person say that to me today." He inclined his head towards me. I was beginning to wish I'd had the foresight to bring my sword, something one generally required during practice.

"So has Narin finally deemed you well enough to train?" I pondered for a long minute before answering carefully:


"Yes." He didn't believe me, but I was here now. "So what are you two going to do? Dagger fighting like the rest of these oblivious imbeciles?"

"Archery, as a matter of fact."

"Archery? Bah, that's no way to fight."

"I'll have you know it requires a great amount of skill to master the art." Legolas defended his renown ability.

"Think of it like this: which is more cowardly? Hiding behind a flank of soldiers as you shoot down your enemies from a distance, or getting up close and very personal as you rip them to shreds in close combat?"

"Well obviously--"

"You're only saying that because of your utter incompetence in that area." Firowen finished nicely. I paused, he was right.

"Believe what you like, as for me, I have better things to do then stand and argue with two men who I'm glad to see are not letting their education get in the way of their stupidity." With that I turned and left, wandering in search of someone to spar with.

~*~

"Incredible, the way she made the word 'men' alone an insult." Legolas observed after a while, contemplating what had just transpired.

"I'm confused." Firowen stated, turning to his friend. "Did we win that or did she?"

"She had the last word, so I'd guess her."

"But that was only because she couldn't think up any other way to come back after what I said."

"True…"

"Do you think we should ask her?"

"Of course not. That would imply we didn't know."

"But we don't."

"Yes, but--"

"So surely if we don't know, we should ask her." Legolas took a breath to answer, but stopped and exhaled.

"Just forget it. Come on, we have work to do."

"See? You're doing it too. You can't think of anything to say, so you're doing the next logical thing, fleeing the situation just like she did."

"Shut up."

"See?"

"Just shut up." A long pause as the two headed to the archery courts.

"So did we win?"

"No."

~*~

They had to have some kind of weapons storage around here somewhere, I wasn't about to go all the way back to my room to get my sword, so I had decided to try and borrow one of the palace's. Better yet, the place seemed deserted, only a few elves remained, and I wasn't about to ask any of them. There was no way I was resorting to finding Legolas and Firowen, and Nólad seemed to have disappeared entirely. I sighed and sank into a nearby bench, relishing the absence of a head rush.

A shadow exited one of the many practice rooms into the corridor that ran through the entire area that was previously unknown to me, walking at a brisk pace, though not seeming to be in any hurry. I looked up and recognition hit me as the brown curls and large build headed my way.

"Cer?" I tried; it was something along those lines in any case. He stopped and looked at me, his face expressionless for the most part. I suddenly felt awkward. "You wouldn't happen to know if there's anywhere around here I could maybe borrow a weapon for a while? Just to train with?" The ghost of a smile crossed his thin lips.

"I'm on my way now." His voice struck me as the oddest thing yet. It was strangely deep, and did not go in any way, shape or form with his pointed ears. It had a strange raspy quality, and although the accent was the same as any of the other resident's of the Wood, his voice reminded me roughly of Aragorn's. He seemed almost self-conscious at this fact, so I smiled at him to ease his discomfort somewhat.

"Great, mind if I tag along?" I sounded like a child; but then again, Cer unnerved me with his cool as ice demeanour. Usually I was in his position.

"Not at all." He certainly was a man of very few words, I decided as I followed him down the hall. I almost hit myself when he turned into the door directly after the ones I'd already searched. It so happened that if I had persevered for another six seconds or so I would have found the armoury. Cheerfully ignoring this fact, I turned my attention to the rows upon rows of longbows, daggers of all shapes and sizes, short bows, short swords, and finally long swords.

I ran my fingers over the cool metal of a hilt, feeling the tiny ridges and dents. I closed my fingers around the handgrip, drawing it out and admiring the blade. About three feet long, light yet with a certain weight to it, obviously requiring a good deal of strength to wield effectively. It would have to do.

"That's Legolas' sword." Cer said. There was a strange tone to his voice, he wasn't accusing, more challenging, with a hint of playfulness.

"Good." The ghost of a smile again. I slashed the air a few times, experimentally. It reminded me of my own sword in a strange sort of way. I grinned at him as I took the sheathe from it's place on the shelf and strapped it around my waist. There was silence for a while. I decided to take the opportunity to ask him a nagging question at the back of my mind. "You…you're a half-elf aren't you?"

"What of it?" Whatever ground I'd made during my short time with him was instantly reclaimed. A defensive mask shot up, his eyes the usual stony blue, his expression passive. I held up my hands to indicate I meant no offence.


"Nothing. I'm…half-human too." His mask fell, brows knitting together. "My father. He was from Gondor. Or, so I remember…It's been a long time."

"My…my mother was a human. I never even knew her."

"Why so defensive? There's nothing wrong with what you are. It's not like you could help it."

"You don't understand." He wasn't even trying to minimise his words as his thick, unelven voice filled the room. "When the wood was under seige and filled with darkness, the people weren't as accepting of the outside world as they are now. Some were scared, some even despised the world around Mirkwood, they blamed it for what was going on. Of course no one outright objected to my being here. No one would be that against it, especially with my father's position. But it's always there, the silent disapproval, the narrow-mindedness, the intolerance." It explained so much. He didn't talk because he was embarrassed of his voice. He never drew attention to himself, because the way he looked did that enough already.

"I do understand. But no, I don't pity you. I suspect that's the last thing you want, someone else's pity. You have your pride, after all. And I still stand by what I said."

"…Thank you. Legolas was right about you." He said cryptically after a while. I chose not to comment, rather to hassle the aforementioned about it later.

"So." I started, easily changing the subject. "Do you have somewhere to be, or do you have time for a spar?" Realisation dawned on him.

"No, I'm already late for something, I think." He walked briskly to where I was and pulled out a sheathed sword, similar to the one I held, but larger. He stopped at the doorway and tuned his head. "I'm sorry. Perhaps I'll…see you again some other time?" He asked, the potentially flirtatious suggestion glowing with pure innocence.

"Maybe." He was gone in a flash, not before bestowing me with one of his rare smiles. Great. Now whom would I fight with?

I wandered blindly down the halls, princely sword in hand, until I felt the cool air rushing in from the outdoors. A few doors ahead, was a small courtyard used for archery practice. There was a row of targets, about ten or so, and marked distances on the earth. I guessed it was fairly private, as a troop couldn't hope to get anything done in such close quarters. Ah, yes, and guess who was there?

"Well look who's decided to turn up, Legolas, looks like she didn't have anything better to do after all."

"Do shut up." Remembering in a flash who's sword I carried, I shifted so it was out of view. "After finally locating a sword and having a soul-bearing chat with Cer, I find that I now have no one to train with." Firowen opened his mouth. I closed it with: "Whatever it is, no."

"Wait, you talked with Cer? As in he said more than a sentence to you?"

"Yes. Why? Is that so astonishing?"

"Well…no, but he just doesn't generally talk to people he doesn't know that well unless he has to."

"Well…I'm not exactly like everyone else he's met, am I? I have one exception, and that's that I understand him like no one else can." Legolas caught on immediately, Firowen just looked confused, bless him.

"So." Firowen cut in expertly, changing the subject with a flourish. "What brings your lovely self here?"

"Well there's nothing else for me to do, is there?" I replied sharply. "Come on, this can't be all you do every day, can it?" Legolas looked to Firowen, silently willing him to keep his mouth shut. It didn't work.

"Well of course not, we just have to work extra hard to get into shape for the upcoming tourna-- ow!"

"Oh, dreadfully sorry, didn't look where I was poking this thing." Legolas said through clenched teeth, his bow prodding into Firowen's side.

"Don't even try it." I snapped cheerfully, if such a thing was indeed possible. I had just recalled Gildor's earlier mention of a tournament, and was eager to find out what the hell he was talking about. "Now, you were saying? Something about a tournament…?" I looked pointedly at Firowen, Legolas interrupted.

"I didn't want you to find out because…" I waited patiently for an explanation. "I didn't want to keep you here any longer than was necessary. You seemed so set at going back as soon as possible, and I knew if you found out about it, you'd want to stay for it, so…"


"You decided to withhold the information so you could get rid of me as soon as possible?" I said merrily.

"No!" He said rather quickly. "No, it's not that, it's just…"

"Tell me what you're talking about first, and then I'll decide whether or not to be angry."

"Well, where to start…It's not really much of an ordinary archery tournament as such, more of a test of strength, endurance, speed, accuracy and above all, skill. There are twelve very different events, including archery." He smirked at my groan. The bastard. "And whoever does the best in the previous event, goes forward to the next and so on, until a winner is chosen."

"And for the past, hmm, how long? The winner has been none other than the Prince himself." Said Firowen, coming up behind Legolas and putting an arm around his shoulders.

"Really?" I arched a brow. "And when exactly is this to be held?"

"Used to be once a yén, but now they're held every twelve human years, so Men have a chance to compete more than once. It starts officially in about a week, and it goes on for about a month afterwards."

"Who is allowed to enter?"


"Anyone of any race who is able to handle a sword as long as they pass the preliminary round, also counted as the first event."

"Which is…?" I felt a strange sense of nervousness.

"Archery."

"What? Archery! That's just plain prejudice! You vapid Wood Elves just want one of your own to win, that's the only reason why you have, for some strange reason, put your speciality as the entry round!" I fumed.

"Yes, exactly." Grinned Firowen. "Just be glad it's not the final."

"That would be another reason why I neglected to tell you. If you know the bow as well as you say you do, you wouldn't get past the first round."

"…Really?" I said venomously.

"No, I didn't mean--" He panicked.

"Is that what you think? Well if that is what you think, I'll just have to prove you wrong, won't I?" I was glaring full force now, and had steadily closed the gap between the Evil Prince and myself, my head tilted upwards slightly.

"Um…"

"Where do I sign up?"

"It's not that simple. It's already too late, and besides you have to--"

"No it's not, you're the bloody Prince. Make an exception."

"But I--"

"Come on, for me?" I mock-fluttered my eyelashes, and smiled maliciously.

"Of course he'll do it. Won't you Legolas?" Now Firowen was fluttering his eyelashes. I suppressed a shudder. Legolas caved in.

"Alright, fine. But are you sure you don't mind leaving a little late?"

"Fangorn can survive a few more weeks without me. Just like you said, right?"

"…. Right. I'll see what I can do."

"Good." I backed off to give him room to breathe. I think Firowen giggled, but it might have been my imagination. At least…I hoped it was…

"So, now that that's over and done with, want to have a couple of practice shots?" He said, inclining his head to the targets.

"Hmm…" I mocked deep thought. "How can I say this without sounding like the antisocial, hostile, misanthropic bitch I am? No."

"Why not?"

"Because I've no desire to humiliate myself with my pathetic archery skills in front of the two of you who will no doubt never let me forget about my lack of expertise in the subject."

"She's got us there." Firowen gave up.

"You're going to have to practice a little at least if you want any hope of getting through the first round." Legolas persevered.

"Maybe later." I gave a wry smile. "Maybe when there's no one around to see me fail miserably."

~*~

Day thirteen; I was woken by Gem as the curtains flew open. She didn't notice, and left the room in a flurry of skirts and assorted dusters. I lay for a few moments longer, and when my body thoroughly refused to rest further, I rose, dressed, and left for the training halls.

Celoril, Firowen and two other Random Elves were already shooting. They didn't seem to have moved since the previous night, although that would be absurd….

Cheerfully ignoring this, I picked up Legolas' sword and continued my search for a training dummy. The shuffling of feet and the air-splitting swish of a sword brought my attention to a rather large side room. There weren't many people around, besides one or two random elves I guessed were just thrown in for background effect. In the room was none other than Nólad, his feet uncertainly shuffling as he swung his sword. The swell of pity returned.

His back was to me, and so engrossed was he in his practice that he didn't hear me walk directly behind him and raise my sword to deflect a swing before the metallic clang resounded through the room. He inhaled sharply, retracting his blade and backing off slightly. He made to apologise, I guessed by the look on his face, but I silenced him with a finger.

"You're strong, but it's a shame you had such a bad teacher. You've got a lot of potential, and with some half decent technique, you wouldn't be too bad." His cheeks coloured slightly. Realisation hit me suddenly. "Why are you doing this?"

"D-doing what?" He seemed embarrassed at himself.

"You're a healer, and I don't see Narin down here brandishing a weapon. Why do you feel you have to be like everyone else?" I paused for thoughtful effect. "Why do you feel you have to be like your brother?"

"I…It's not that. It's just…I always wanted to be able to fight. But it turned out my talent lay elsewhere. I envied Celoril and the others so much at times because they were able to be warriors like most if not all of the other men. Did you know I'm one of two, two, male healers in the palace." He laughed ironically. This was the most open I'd ever seen him. He was actually showing resentment. Though it was obvious he loved his brother as much as could be expected, there was still that longing, the feeling of mediocrity. "I don't know why I'm even telling you this. It's not as if you need to hear my problems."

"No, no. Go on. I'm interested now."

"Well…that was pretty much it." He said sheepishly.

"You like Narin, don't you?" I said randomly, he shrugged.

"Of course, she's practically my best friend. I don't know what I'd do without her." I smiled, he back-peddled, fast. "N-not like that, though! I mean, she's pretty and everything, but I just…"

"Don't see her in that way…?" I said encouragingly. He nodded.

"Besides, she likes someone else." He said off-handily, the suddenly realising a mistake. "Oh, wait. Forget I said that."

"Who?"

"No-one."

"Fine. I'll drag it out of her eventually." I said challengingly. Why was I becoming so involved in the politics of Eryn Lasgalen's upper social web? "Listen. As long as you're here, will you be my sparring partner?"

"I don't know about that. I'm really not very good, as you can tell."

"Nonsense." I said, already taking position. "I can teach you little things as we go along, and I can remind myself of the basics."

"…Okay then, if you're sure." I corrected him on his tight stance and told him to attack me. I parried the blow, forced his sword around, and grabbed his other arm, pinning it behind his back.

"Rule number one. Don't do that." I released him, noting his slightly improved stance as he prepared again. "Good. Now I'll attack you. Don't look so apprehensive, I've no designs on removing that little blonde head of yours." And so I attacked. Within seconds my blade was pressed against his neck. I released him again, dispensing my second piece of advice. "Rule number two: Never, ever leave any part of you open, especially not your neck, torso, or any other place you don't want hacked off." He nodded, absorbing the information.

I saw improvement in every attack, every block, every improvised combo he pulled off. I almost beamed with pride. I'd never had a student before for anything, and to see him avidly hanging on my every word and taking in the information like an over-eager schoolboy made me strangely happy.

"Rule number nine: In the heat of battle, you will have to make impulsive moves, and do not expect your enemy to fight fair. Don't think, just do."

"Rule number ten: If you see an angry woman lunging towards you, sword in hand, don't think, just run." I turned towards the voice, a wry smile ready on my face. Firowen was leaning against the doorpost, arms folded, a jaunty grin in place.

"Can I help you?"

"Well, that depends." My eyes narrowed to slits. "Alright, never mind. I was just wondering what you were doing slicing at Nólad like he's a practice dummy. I doubt his sister would like to come back and find her little brother diced up."

"Genévieve?" Nólad piped up enthusiastically. Firowen nodded, the corner of his mouth twitching.

"So, what exactly are you doing to poor Nólad?"

"Nothing. Just…helping him out a little." An eyebrow raise.

"Really? Maybe you could give me a few pointers?" He walked to the centre of the room and stood an arm's length from me.

"Sure." I grabbed his ear lobe, twisting and pulling downwards. He let out a strangled noise and waved his arms in the vague direction of my offending hand. "Feel that pain?" I dug a nail in briefly for effect. He nodded slowly and stiffly. "Remember that pain every time you think about saying something like that ever again. Got that?" A nod. "Good." I released him. He rubbed his ear for a while, taking it surprisingly well. Then he gave me a flirtatious half-grin and told me I was good at that, did I practice often? Cheeky bastard.

I heard running footsteps and turned my attention to the doorway. Celoril came hurrying in, casting an anxious glance at the door.

"She's not here yet? Oh good…" He visibly relaxed.


"Who…?" I started lamely.

"The twins' sister. She's coming back today."

"You're running away from your sister? She can't be that horrible."

"Oh no, I love her enough, it's just--"

"Celery!" I heard a sing-song female's voice ring out from down the corridor.

"She calls me that." He said witheringly, sagging onto a bench.

"Hello all!" I turned towards the door to see a woman, Cer standing close behind her. Following a distinct trend, she was tall, slim and beautiful, with a round, rosy-cheeked face and a long, curly head of darker blonde hair. Celoril was on his feet immediately, the momentum behind her embrace almost knocking the twins over. "Oh, my little Nólie! And Celery, too! Oh, I missed you two so much!" Celery? Nólie? I wasn't sure whether to be horrified or amused. Before letting the twins get a word in, Firowen took a step forward, arms outstretched.

"Jen!"

"Don't even try it." Her voice had suddenly become flat and held a distinctly murderous tone. She turned to me, smiling whilst giving me a polite, appraising once-over.

"Allow me to proudly introduce the lovely Lady Genévieve Ním'ére." He bowed extravagantly, one arm swooping towards her. She thwacked him around the back of his head before extending her hand towards me in one movement.

"Hi, I'm Jen." This was their sister? She seemed so different from both of them, but as I'd learnt time and time again in the past week or so, I couldn't judge her based on her rather…colourful entrance alone.

"Yuna." I took her hand, and became increasingly scared of her widening grin as she shook it vigorously.

"So, here for the tournament? Where does he know you from?" She inclined her head towards Firowen, her voice flattening on the he.

"Sort of. And he knows me through Legolas."

"Where is Legolas, anyway? Is he with…" Firowen asked cheerfully. .

"Tengaar." Jen confirmed. Who the hell was Tengaar? Why did no one tell me anything? "Oh, where's Narin?"


"Oh, she told me to tell her when you arrived." Nolad said, his tone cursing his absent-mindedness as he made for the door, his pace increasing.

"Um…"

"Oh, forgive me. Here I come barging in on you like this." She sat on a bench beside Cer and pulled Celoril down next to her. "Carry on whatever you were doing before I interrupted." She then proceeded to get Celoril in a headlock and began rub her knuckles into his skull mercilessly, the sweetest look possible on her face. "Now did you really think you get away from me? I mean come on. You should know by now that if you just let me embarrass you enough in front of people, you won't have to suffer later on. But no." She carried on her little monologue-aided torture, seemingly unaware of the two of us standing and watching.

"Anyway." I turned to Firowen. "Where were we?"

"Well." He started, drawing the word out to twice it's length. "Since your sparring partner seems to be otherwise engaged, why don't I substitute?"

"Fine." I said spiritlessly, raising my sword.

"Hey, isn't that sword Lego--"

"Yes." He shrugged.

"Just checking."

~*~

"Again! Come on, Firowen. At least put up some kind of a fight." Jen was at the sidelines, her fists bawled as she cheered on the match. Celoril merely stay sat down, the smirk on his face promising rumours, nay, truths, flying around concerning the fact that he was just beaten by a woman. A Half-Elven woman, no less, as well as an outsider. Cer just looked amused.

"What do you mean, again? That was only the second time!" Firowen protested. I tutted at him like an errant child.

"That's still two too many."

"Honestly. One should think that with your decades of training, centuries of experience, et cetera, you would at least have some basic skill." Jen again, rolling her eyes masterfully. I was beginning to like her.

"Look, it's not that I'm bad, it's just that she--" He mock spat venomously, "just so happens to be really rather good at this." He looked away and mumbled, "besides, she cheated."

"Excuse me?"

"You didn't follow any of the rules of engagement." He said louder, proud that he finally found a case against me.

"Rules of Engagement?"

"Yes, in a fair fight, I'd have easily beaten you."

"And you think that's an incentive for me to fight fair? Seriously, I thought you of all people would know."

"Know what?"

"In any fight, the only limit is your own ability. When was the last time you followed the 'Rules of Engagement' in a bloody battle with Orcs?"

"Well…" Silence. "…You cheated!"

"Yes, and you lost."

"What's this?" Narin, I turned to the door to see Jen launch off her seat and tackle Narin in a hug amidst a squeal of her name. Narin laughed and returned the embrace. Nólad sat with his brother as they watched the scene unfold.

"Firowen lost." Jen proclaimed, clapping her hands ecstatically once she had released her friend.

"To Yuna?" She asked, looking to me.

"Yes!" Jen squealed, Narin giggled, looking at a pouting Firowen.

"Aw, don't worry. It's okay if you lost." She grinned. "I don't mind that you're just a big wuss!" Now that was something I never thought I'd hear from the ever passive Narin. I waited patiently for the comment from Firowen….but it never came. I turned to him to see an odd sort of smile on his face. It was almost like he was embarrassed. But that couldn't be it. I'd seen Dwarfs with more shame than he had. A strange expression passed Narin's face, then it was gone.

"So, when's the opening round?" Jen asked, cutting the atmosphere.

"Opening round?"

"You know, the archery thing that Legolas always wins." And just like that, the conversation lightened immediately, all thoughts of awkwardness out the window. It was something that always amazed me, their ability to forget about things as if they never happened. But this was something new, something I'd have to look into further.

~*~

It was later that day, further into the afternoon that was just skimming evening. The group had slowly dispersed, and I was ambling along, searching vainly for Legolas. I hadn't spoken to him since a few days ago, and I still needed to ensure my place in the tournament, although I was certain he would have sorted it out already. I needed to practice my archery a little more if it was to begin so soon. My mind drifted back to the last time we spoke…

*~*

A string of curses whispered through the courtyard as yet another arrow barely skimmed the target's edge. I retrieved the offending arrow and notched a new one, taking careful aim. By all laws of logic, physics and the universe combined, I should have been hitting it dead centre. Of course, this was not the case. I pulled back the string on the longbow, ready to let fly.

"Your right foot's too far back." I stopped, lowering the bow and looking to the door. There stood Legolas, bow in hand, a quiver strapped to his back. I shifted my foot, re-notching the arrow. "Shoulders are too tense." I relaxed them a little. "Straighten your arm."

"Look, I know I'm not as good as you, your highness, but will you stop bloody going on about it?"

"You want to have a chance don't you?" I sighed.

"Fine. What else am I doing wrong?" He walked up to where I stood.

"Archery and swordplay are two very different arts. You're unconsciously taking up a melee position, which is too tense and wide for the effective use of ranged weapons."

"And so…?"

"Here." He moved my left leg back a little, making a few slight adjustments to my stance as he continued upwards where he gave me leave to try it again. It hit the target, but just barely.

"Eh, it's an improvement in any case. Thanks." I took aim again.

"The aim on a crossbow and a longbow are also very different. Let me." He stood behind me, and made to take hold of the bow around me.

"Hey …what are you doing?" I shifted.

"Just trying to help you aim." Was somewhat of a lame excuse.

"….Okay then. Go on." He resumed, sliding his hands down my arms, moving them slightly as he went. Finally he grasped the bow and, with me, pulled the string back. He pressed closer to my back, and drew breath, no doubt to give me some pointer or another.

Unfortunately, it was at that exact moment that my instinct chose to take over all rational thought. As his torso brushed my sensitive lower back, a chain reaction was set off, causing the hand the held the string and arrow to let go, bawl into a fist, and elbow the Prince squarely in the stomach. Before I realised what had happened, he was doubled over, breathless and clutching his midriff.

"I'm sorry!" I said, holding back laughter as I discarded the bow and put a hand on his shoulder, bringing his head up to look at me with a shocked expression. "You okay?"

"You just…elbowed me…in the ribs…" He rasped, unbelieving.

"Well…I tried to warn you. I didn't mean to, if it helps." He finally stood up straight, rubbing the sore spot that would probably leave a light bruise later. "On the bright side." I inclined my head towards the target. The arrow was buried perfectly in the centre. "You're a great teacher." I grinned.

*~*

No one was supposed to have been there. It was late in the evening when I'd crept down to the practice courts to squeeze in a little late-night failure before the sun rose. And there he was, in perfect, polished, blonde glory. Bah.

And now he was no where to be seen. I went to the library, in the hopes of finding Narin, thinking she may be able to tell me. It was just as I rounded the corner of the corridor that I saw someone go out of the library, without thinking, I called after them.

"Excuse me?" She -- it had to be female, no man could live with a figure like that -- turned around, and my breath caught in my throat. Dark brown ringlets, almost black, framed a flawless, oval face. Perfectly sculpted eyebrows sloped over long-lashed, deep, hazel eyes. Rosy, bow-lips set off a matte complexion to utter faultlessness.

"Yes?" Her soft voice rang out across the corridor, snapping me out of my reverie.

"I…Do you know if Narin's in there?" She shook her head, taking a few steps toward me. Her hair tumbled in silky curls over her shoulders with the movement.


"No, I was just looking for her in fact. Are you…no, you must be Lady Yunalesca that I've heard so much about." She smiled, toothpaste-advert teeth gleaming.

"Yes, I…how did…?"

"Legolas. He told me he might have a little competition this time concerning the upcoming tournament." She seemed to remember herself, and extended her hand suddenly. "Forgive me, where are my manners? I'm Tengaar."

"Oh you're Tengaar. I was wondering who was keeping Legolas from seeing his best friend ground into the dust." She laughed a buoyant, lively laugh.

"Yes, I heard about that. Well, in my opinion, Firowen could use a little humbling." After a short pause, curiosity overtook me, and I asked the question burning on my lips.

"You're not from here, are you?"

"No, I'm not. I'm from Rivendell."

"So…are you some distant relative of his, or something? A friend?" I asked, not unkindly. Strangely, she almost giggled.

"Oh no, I'm his betrothed."

A.N. EXPLANATIONS: 1. Why every twelve years? Because, we decided to put something remotely canon in the fic, and this way it reflects the Elvish preference for counting in sixes and twelves. A yén is like the Elvish equivalent of a year (it's 144 years long) because of their long life span. They also have a period of time equivalent to a year called a loa or coranar

2. Squee! The ever-present obstacle. Don't worry, she's not gonna be the usual evil-bitch-from-Hades-who-wants-Leggie-all-to-her-evil-bitchy-self. You'll see later on…maybe she will be…you just don't know! We don't knpow ourselves! But you weren't supposed to know that! *shuts up*

Right, that's all our canon-shattering OCs for the moment. In case anyone's wondering, we've got a little pronunciation guide thing:

Firowen, Nólad, Narin, Gildor, Jen, Tengaar: Exactly as written.

Celoril, Cer: In Elvish, 'C' is pronounced 'K', so that's the way we're going.

Genévieve: 'G' as in the French "Je." 'Né' as in 'Neh.' So it's Je-neh-vive. Kinda Frenchy, but we thought it suited her, and Tali made me do it. (We based her on Jessica (Natasha Lyonne) from American Pie.)

Reviews:

Lilena: Nail bunny? The only name I've ever gone under is Psycho Bunny, so can't help you there, I'm afraid. And as for the lovin', this chappie kind of marks something beginning-ish. Even if we don't get on to Legomanciness yet, we've got a different plot to keep you people somewhat satisfied.

Zierah: Erm…thanks? GENERAL HEALTH WARNING: Staying up all night reading fics can cause serious damage to your: Social life, mental well being, ability to stay awake, ability to differentiate between M.E and anywhere else, pets, computers, nails, and finally, eyes. Thank you.

Ranting Fool: Dear God, stop shamelessly plugging your own fic. We can do it for you (Go on, read his hilarious, uni-chaptered fic, make his day, but don't review)

I Get stalked By Snowmen: Shh. (We mentioned her name once, I think, but maybe not, I can't remember)

Afowe Utina'vara: Cool name. Yuna's feminine side? You make it sound like she's a butch lesbian or something (please no one bitch to me about insulting lesbians, I love 'em, know three of 'em), although I kinda understand how it may seem like that.

Serpent Of Light: And the little messenger icon telling us we've got another review warms our little black hearts. ^_^

Melia: Why thank you. We do too.

Sweet-legolas: We love Firowen (the real one) too. He bought us chocolate to feed our fat the other day, in exchange for us waxing his legs.

Jmmart11: Sorry. We've kinda been swamped by loads of stuff all at once. Thanks to you, I managed to cough up the final half of this chappie last night! See? Reviews do encourage us.