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Chapter Eight: I Have an Oopsy Moment
Across the field stood a collection of targets, each marked with concentric circles in blue, green, yellow, and red for the bull's eye.
"Ready?" called an elf who was to judge the contest. The warriors lined up, bows drawn, strings taut.
"Aim…" I steadied my bow, eyes focusing on the target afar.
"Fire!" A fleet of arrows chased the field. Not had so many arrows been loosed since the siege of Dol Guldur.
The spectators leaned forward in the stands, straining to see which elves had struck the bulls' eyes.
"For the first round," the announcer called, and the crowd hushed, "perfect marks for Captain Haldir, Lady Helifeth, Celefier, First Marshal Eledhel, Belegil, Sulindal, Farothin, …" the announcer paused, "Prince Legolas, Lady Limaer, and Lady Miredhel."
Farothin nudged me with his elbow. "They announced you with the ladies, Legolas. That should tell you something."
I elbowed him back and replied, "Yes, it tells me that they announced us in the order of our line-up."
Farothin looked down the line. "Sure…you can think that if it makes you feel better," he retorted.
I glimpsed Miredhel on the other side of Lady Limaer. She had been smiling at the results of the first round, but when she noticed my gaze, she quickly frowned and began inspecting the shaft of her blue-feathered arrow.
"Round two, elves take aim!" She glanced at me again, and I gave her a slight nod. Much to my satisfaction, her cheeks heated up. She brushed a loose curl from in front of her eyes and readied her arrow.
"Fire!" I watched the flight of my arrow until it struck red on the target. Perfect mark, again. I turned my head toward where Eledhel and Haldir stood together. They were both looking fairly smug as well.
"Round two, perfect marks for Captain Haldir, Lady Helifeth, Celefier, Eledhel, Belegil, Sulindal, Farothin, Prince Legolas, and Lady Miredhel," called the announcer.
I turned to Lady Limaer whose arrow had hit the yellow ring, barely outside the bull's eye. "My lady," I addressed her, "your arrow seemed to find a mind of its own."
Lady Limaer flushed. "If my arrow missed," she batted her long curly lashes over deep blue eyes, "it was only because it wanted to be closer to yours."
I smiled at her. Honestly, this sort of flirting I could appreciate, the shallow effortless kind, but behind Lady Limaer, I caught Miredhel rolling her eyes in disgust. "Let us hope you do not miss this time, my lady. I would loathe for you to be eliminated," I told her loudly enough for Miredhel to hear.
"Final round, contestants. Ready?" The targets had been pushed to the very back of the field.
The bows curved with the pull of the arrows against strings. Every arm was poised to fire. Deadly pointed arrows glinted in the sun. The moment seemed made for silence. The spectators collectively sucked in their breaths.
"Fire!" Arrows arced across the sky in a flash of many colored feathers like a rare flock of birds racing in the wind.
"Can you see your target, Farothin?"
"No, Legolas. The judges are blocking it."
"They block mine as well." I shaded my eyes. "I can see Eledhel and Haldir's. Both hit dead center."
"Let us hope ours are the same."
The judges made their way back to the spectators' platforms. "For the first stage of the tournament, contestants with three perfect marks for all three rounds are: Captain Haldir, Lady Helifeth, Celefier, Eledhel, Belegil, Farothin, Prince Legolas, and Lady Miredhel!"
The spectators stood to applaud. Many young elves waved the colors of their houses in support of their champions. The warriors on the field busily congratulated one another on their success. Lady Limaer, however, had formed a visible pout. She missed twice and was now eliminated. I pulled away from the group when I saw her disappointment.
"Best wishes, Prince Legolas. Since I am eliminated, may I be so bold to ask you to wear my favor for the rest of the tournament." The lady looked at me earnestly.
I blinked. I did not know what to say. Sure, I had worn favors in other contests, but only out of love for the lady in question. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see Miredhel observing the scene. "Of course, my lady. It would be my honor," I said graciously.
Lady Limaer took a ruby ribbon from her hair. "May I?" she asked. I nodded, and she leaned in. way too much, and here's when I began to regret our casual flirtation. Her right breast grazed my arm, not once, but twice. I actually looked down when she did it the second time, and my face must have shown some combination of regret and distinct discomfort, because in the next moment she gave me a not even slightly apologetic smile, more of a smirk really-a naughty smirk. She tied her ribbon, not too tight, in a finorian knot on my left arm. "My goodness," she exclaimed, feeling my arm, "how strong you are, my lord."
"Thank you, my lady," I pried my arm from her grasp with what I hoped was a charming and not panicked smile. Further down the field, I could see Eledhel and Belegil laughing and pointing in my direction. "Now if you will excuse me, I must prepare for the next stage of the tournament." I quickly took leave of her and joined my fellow archers.
"Just what is so humorous?" I demanded.
"Nice ribbon, my lord," Eledhel said, grinning broadly.
"It matched your face when she tied it!" Belegil chuckled.
"Do not be envious," I said. "Perhaps by the end of the next round, I can collect favors enough for us all." Eledhel and Belegil stopped laughing.
"Well…" started Eledhel.
"Did you see? Sulindal barely missed the last bull's eye." Belegil changed the subject.
"He was so mad that I thought he was going to snap his bow in half," said Eledhel. "This next part of the tournament will be more of a challenge," he continued, "because we have rigged moving targets on ropes to pull across the field. All of them will move at different speeds. The closest targets are worth less points."
"I see. And the farthest targets are worth the most," guessed Farothin.
I listened thoughtfully. This challenge would require skill and strategy. I watched the field as the elves ran the ropes across the field at different levels of height. It would prove difficult to decide which targets to try and hit. I would just have to hit them all. Only the five archers with the highest score would advance to the final contest. I had to be one of them.
"Your friend looks entirely too smug, my brother." Miredhel's voice diverted my attention from the field.
"Yes, sister, perhaps he thinks of winning his wager with you." Eledhel countered.
She colored at his suggestion. "Are you surprised I have joined you in the second round?" She did not want to discuss her bet with me.
"Not I, my lady. For I knew your aim to be as true as your heart," said Belegil.
"Belegil, you will never change! The most accomplished rake in the Golden Wood!" she said and laughed as he brought her hand to his lips.
"Perhaps if you would reform me?" he asked. His voice was low and serious, but his eyes twinkled.
"All right, that is enough!" Eledhel interrupted. "Belegil, you will have to work your charms on a lady other than my dear sister. You know she is immune to them by now, anyways."
"Perhaps you should try Lady Limaer," suggested Miredhel. "She seems willing to bestow her affections blindly on any elf."
"I take your meaning, my lady," I spoke up and was going to continue, but the judges called for the archers to step in line for the next challenge.
Haldir was the first to go. One of the judges waved a flag, and the targets began to move. Haldir quickly fired and hit four of the closest targets. The targets in the back flew by. Haldir paused. Timing was everything. He took aim, fired an arrow and then another and another. He did not miss. His right arm did not rest on the bow, but pulled and reloaded, pulled and reloaded in one fluid motion like the movement of birds' wings in flight. The last target left the field. Haldir visibly relaxed and turned to face the spectators and his beloved Lord and Lady.
"Captain Haldir," the judges announced, "has hit nine of the fifteen green (easy-distance) targets, seven of the ten blue (medium) targets, and five of the five red (farthest and fastest) targets. He scores forty-eight out of sixty points." The crowd cheered for their captain and long-time protector. He bowed before Lord Celeborn and Lady Galadriel and proudly stepped to the side.
Lady Helifeth faced the targets next. I did not know very much about her, only that she had gained fame during the Last Alliance and was thought to be fairly fell-handed. She was strikingly beautiful, but married and probably my father's age. Her strategy seemed to focus on the red targets since they were worth the most points. A torrent of arrows flew from her lithe bow, and I could not help but be impressed.
"Lady Helifeth scores forty-four points." Murmurs of admiration went through the line of warriors.
"Does it surprise you that a Lady could do so well, Prince Legolas?" Miredhel asked.
I had forgotten that she stood behind me. "No," I replied curtly over my shoulder and then turned my back to her. My fingers tightened on his bow. Why was she so determined to find fault with me? I turned back around. "The Lady Helifeth bought her reputation on the battlefield. Her hands are probably darker than mine with the blood of orcs. I give her the respect that is due a warrior and equal." I waited for her retort. There was none.
She opened her mouth just once to say something and stopped herself. She turned away.
Celefier had finished his turn and scored forty points. So far Haldir led the group, but Eledhel was next to go. His youngest weaponry students held up a banner they had made with his colors on it. He smiled at them and waved before taking his stance. His division of forest guards cheered him on, yelling "Eledhel, Eledhel, give 'em hell!"
Eledhel turned and waved again. I could not help but smile at the crowd's response to my friend. Eledhel was much loved by the folk who knew him. The signal flag dropped and the targets began to move. Eledhel took aim with leonine grace. Without hesitation, he shot the targets from the back to the front as they zipped across the field. So far every arrow shot had found its home in a target.
"He does not miss," Miredhel observed.
"The only way to beat his score is to be faster and hit more targets," I agreed quietly.
The score for Eledhel, the First Marshal of the Forest Guard, is fifty-two points. He takes the lead!" the judges announced. Eledhel's young archers jumped up and waved their banner before the crowd.
"You are a difficult act to follow, Eledhel," commented Belegil as he took the field. Belegil was a quick fire, but with less finesse than Eledhel. His skill in archery lay in the strength of his arms to bend the bow. Belegil scored forty-six points, and Farothin followed, making an impressive showing for his first tournament with forty-two points.
"Well done, Farothin! You bring honor to the family," Haldir slapped his nephew on the back. "I trained him well, did I not?" But I had little time to compliment Farothin on his shooting. It was my turn to take the field.
I shook my arms and rolled my neck as I walked onto the field to loosen up my muscles. It would never do to be too tense. As the announcer called my name, I turned to salute the crowd. Lady Limaer waved at me from the stands and called my name.
"That is Prince Legolas from Mirkwood," she exclaimed to her friends. "He is wearing my ribbon! Prince Legolas! Prince Legolas!"
I groaned inwardly and gave her a small wave before turning to face the field. The judges raised the flag. I bent my bow and fit his first arrow to string. The flag dropped, and the targets began to chase across the field. My plan was to take each target out as it crossed into play. So far I hit two green and three blue. If I wanted to beat Eledhel, I could not miss any red targets.
The crowd had grown very quiet as I waited for the first red target to speed onto the field, and then very plainly from the stands I heard a not so discreet whisper, "Do you think if I waited for him in his room the prince would take me to his bed?"
A pause. And then, "what if I was already naked and in his bed?"
The first red sped onto the field. I aimed and fired at it. The arrow whizzed by the target. I missed. I actually missed!
I just knew my ears burned as brightly as that red target as I quickly fit another arrow and fired before the red disc zipped off the field. This time my arrow lodged itself in the red center, but I was already running out of time. By now, almost all of the targets were on the field, and with the time I had taken to correct my first missed shot, I missed three other targets. My bow had not seen such action since Pelennor. My hand reached from quiver to string in one fluid motion-draw, aim, fire. The final red target rushed onto the field. I had to make this shot to make it to the next round. I reached into my quiver, only to grab at air.
I was out of arrows. I lowered my bow and watched the final target speed by, unchecked, and the crowd murmured its disappointment.
"Prince Legolas of Eryn Lasgalen has earned forty points. Well done, Prince Legolas." The elves applauded politely, in my estimation the equivalent of a pity-clap. Forty points? Forty? Equal parts shame and horror curdled in my stomach. My fingers curled tightly around my bow as I turned to face the spectators.
"Nicely done, Prince Legolas!" Lady Limaer called, two bright spots of pink gracing her cheeks.
My eyes slid toward the other warriors, bows in hand. Most hardly knew where to look or what to say to me, but Eledhel strode toward me and cracked a grin. "Everyone has an off-day once in a while," he said wryly.
"I suppose this is my day," I admitted. "I guess I'll be watching the final round." Miredhel passed by as I spoke and she stopped by her brother's side. Her turn was next.
"I am sorry you won't be in the final round, Prince Legolas. Everyone was looking forward to seeing you compete," Lady Miredhel said sincerely.
"Thank you, my lady, and I hope you shoot well," I said. Lady Miredhel took the field. Since she was the last to compete in this round, she knew that she had to score more than 44 points to be one of the five to qualify for the final race. If she could hit all of the red and blue targets, then that would be forty-five points, just enough to qualify. She pulled out her first arrow and waited for the signal.
"So do you think she will qualify?" asked Eledhel.
"I hope so…" I said politely, but honestly I could hardly care either way. I was so entrenched in my own mortification. The flag dropped. Her turn began.
The field grew silent save the twang of Miredhel's bow string and the constant whine of arrows toward the targets. She shot with practiced grace, fluid and easy. With her left hand steady, her eyes searched the field for any trace of blue or red, and her composure impressed me.
Her arrows leapt toward the targets, and I knew the thrill of that feeling, the rhythm of your arm and the feel of the bow in your hand. The last target quit the field but not before meeting her final arrow.
"And the final contestant, Lady Miredhel scores…forty-five points!" Most of the elves suffered a collective jaw drop.
Eledhel was all smiles, though his eyes spoke of disbelief. "Miredhel, you were amazing. All that practice paid off! And now you will be in the final round!"
"Truly, my lady. A most outstanding accomplishment," Haldir added.
"I look forward to seeing you in the final race." I said. "Our wager may be over, but you still have to best your brother."
Lady Miredhel's smile widened. "I know, Valar help me."
I watched them go, my eyes trailing after the silhouette of Miredhel sandwiched between her brother and Farothin. I lost my bet with her, but I did not mind too much. I already decided that getting her to kiss me on her own terms would be infinitely more exciting. For the both of us.
Author's Note: Well, well. Were any of you surprised by the outcome of this chapter?
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