A/N: I'm not a very good author, am I people?
Disclaimer: I don't own LOTR just borrowing!
By the way I know that some of the facts are not accurate, but bear with me this is a FANFICTION after all! Also I suck at Elvish so excuse my errors please!
My Legolas My Little Greenleaf
Nearly one hundred summers after the death of his mother, Legolas was still growing and learning, for one hundred years to the elves is not very long for, they are immortal. He is still a young ellon, trying to master maybe some of the hardest tasks. But, he never forgot what his mother told him in her last moments, nor did he forget his promise to her, his promise of revenge...
"Owwwww!" growled young Legolas, "Do you have to fight back so hard Glorfindel! I'm not an orc! Save it for them!" Glorfindel, once head of the House of the Golden Flower of Gondolin lowered his twin knives, and chuckled, "Legolas, mellon nin, if I don't teach you how to fight the hardest you can, you won't be ready to fight an orc, let alone defeat it!" Legolas scowled. "Fine!" he mumbled. "Can we take a break now?" he asked hopefully. "Yes, we can take a break. Maybe afterwards we'll practice your archery." He said. "Yes!" exclaimed the young elf. Glorfindel grinned, knowing how much the elfling loved archery. Almost if not more than his mother had... Glorfindel mentally frowned. Yes the fair lady of Mirkwood, Queen Faelwen, the most beloved and brave elleth he had ever met. She was known amongst her people as Maethbereth, warrior queen, for it was said no man nor ellon could match her skill with bow, but maybe her son, Legolas Thranduilion could, with the proper training.
"Glorfindel!!!!!!!" cried Legolas. Glorfindel started out of his thoughts as if delt a blow, for he had not seen or heard the ellon come up behind him, presuming he was still straping on his vambraces and his quiver. "Yes Legolas?" asked Glorfindel. "You've been sitting there for four minutes now! Lle desiel? Lle tyava quel?" asked Legolas impatiently. "Oh! I'm sorry Legolas, I'm ready and yes I feel fine. Today, your goal is to hit that wooden pole over there" replied Glorfindel pointing to the thick nine foot wooden pole fifteen feet away, "Now take your stance...put your feet a little wider apart, no like this," he went up the the elfling and positioned him correctly. "Yes, better much better. Now, have your bow arm parallel with the ground, yes like that. Pull back the bow string, until it touches your mouth. Good now take an arrow, and do that position with the arrow. Now, breathe in, now release your arrow as you breathe outwards!" Legolas with a sharp outward breath released the arrow and it whipped through the air and landed with a thud in the middle of the pole. Glorfindel went up to it, and pulled out the still quivering arrow. Checking the arrow for any cracks, he deemed it still useable. "Very good, Aier." he complimented, and with a flourish handed the arrow to the ellon, who tried to keep a straight face, but failed and outwardly laughed. Glorfindel, soon too laughed.
The Mirkwood forest was alight with the elves' laughter, for in this time, Sauron the Deceiver, the dark lord of Mordor, had yet to reveal himself, and his dark evil had been forgotten if only for a moment. Everything seemed light and joyful, under the golden fall leaves of Mirkwood, as the elves heard the once Balrog Slayer and their beloved prince laugh.
Elvish Translations
Lle desiel-----Are you ready
Lle tyava quel-----Are you feeling well
Aier-----Short one
Thranduilion------Son of Thranduil