Chapter 6, Hero
One eye opened and blinked.
Legolas yawned, fully opening both of his eyes and stood up, stretching. Carefully folding his sheets and adjusting his pillow, he looked out of the sole small window in the cabin, where tiny streaks of sunlight entered through a small flimsy curtain. He looked around the cabin. It seemed like it wasn't wake up time yet, but Morinlai and Kaitsu were already gone, perhaps in the baths. Must have been their strict military regime. And while the rest were sound asleep, Legolas still made sure to try and disturb them as little as possible as he opened the curtains a bit and peeked out.
Strangely, it was a beautiful day.
The sun was barely rising, with golden rays crashing through the peach-colored sky. The early morning smell was sweet, like ripe fruit and warm bread. Moist dew made the grass shine and there was an eerie sort of silence in the novice camp, devoid of life except for the swaying of the foliage of the trees because of the wind. Legolas grinned. The thought of perhaps being with Turen was discomforting, but at least he would be discomforted surrounded by beautiful nature.
Dressing up in the novice uniform that was assigned to him, which was a smooth light green color, Legolas climbed down the bunk bed and making sure he didn't disturb any of his sleeping bunk mates, crept out of the door, trying not to make the door creak too much.
The outside was even better from...well, the outside. Every sense, every color, and every movement seemed more vivid, colorful, alive. For the first time in the entire stay, Legolas didn't have an urge to go home. If this was freedom, it smelled good. He felt more Silvan than ever before, almost merging into the trees and land surrounding him. He loved the palace and had grown accustomed to its ways, but Legolas would always love being out in the open much more, because it was where he belonged.
Suddenly, Legolas heard a couple of grunts.
Frowning, he turned to the direction of the grunts. He knew it might get him to trouble, but his curiosity got the better way out of him. The blond elf walked a bit more until he found himself in the hand-to-hand combat center, where the hand-to-hand combat examinations were to be seen that day. In a mat to his far right, two elves stripped down to the chest were lunging and fighting against each other, and Legolas found himself captivated by the two familiar elves' movements.
Morinlai was of taller stature, but he found himself with the same build as tiny Kaitsuran. They were both significantly muscular for someone their age, probably because of prior practice. That was how Legolas had gotten his fair build as well, from his constant archery drills. Legolas, as he quietly sat down on a fence and watched them fight each other, quickly started admiring their attack tactics.
Of course, their banter was amiable, and no serious harm was being done. Nevertheless, sweat and concentration were etched into their eyes, as if they had entirely forgotten the world. Suddenly, Kaitsu didn't seem so childish, and Morinlai looked just plain menacing. Morinlai was more defensive, and his movements were smooth, swift like a current's. He made less attacks and jabs than Kaitsu, but his were just as meaningful, since they had more power and force put into them. He was obviously storing his energy for the end, or for the climax for the battle, proving how much wiser he was resource-wise. Kaitsu, in the other hand, was fast and seemingly energetic. He was intelligent, and his jabs were always well-suited, hitting vital areas at a startling speed. He was clearly deadly, and some signs of fatigue and annoyance were shown on Morinlai's face as his future brother-in-law blocked his moves and moved in to tire him constantly. Or perhaps it was the time they had spent wrestling.
Legolas soon sensed the fight was to come to an end. At some point, Legolas started holding his breath as he watched Kaitsuran come and deliver the final blow. Legolas watched in wonder, as the miniscule elf performed a sturdy double-leg takedown and during this time, performing a clean leg sweep as Morinlai clutched his collar. However, just inches from the ground, Morinlai got full-grip of his future brother-in-law's collar and forced him down, slamming him unto the floor sideways and making him fall the same time as he did.
The prince was awestruck. These two would definitely wow the masters during the examinations. There was no doubt about that.
"Now, I don't think it is very princely to spy on others. Why don't you join us, pathetic elf prince?"
Legolas scowled, just as he had been about to leave to the baths and do some more reflecting. He had been discovered, and so easily! His cheeks turned bright red as Morinlai looked at him with a bored expression and Kaitsuran only flashed him an amused smile, happily waving him to come over him and greeting him enthusiastically.
"I'm not pathetic!" snapped Legolas in annoyance with his arms crossed against his chest, although he still walked over to their direction. "And I was not spying, I was merely observing."
"Observing without permission is simply the same thing as spying. They're both intrusions after all," stated Morinlai, rolling his eyes as he wiped some sweat off his forehead with his shirt. He clicked his mouth impatiently. "What are you doing up so early?"
"I would ask the same of you."
Morinlai smirked, perhaps the closest thing he'd given Legolas to a smile. He and Kaitsu exchanged an empathetic side-eyed smile and then the tall dark-haired elf turned to Legolas. "That was a quick response. It seems your tongue is on fire, so perhaps your blood is as well. If that is the case, wouldn't you mind fighting me?"
No way! Legolas screamed inwardly. You've seen how this elf fights, he could crush you like a bug! Don't do it. Don't be stupid. Don't be an idiot. This is what Thalos warns you against doing everyday. However, in the outside, he looked cool and reserved. "If after we finish I still yet have time to take a bath, I do not see why not. I would be honored to."
"The honor would be all mine," grinned Morinlai darkly as he nodded to him and gestured the fighting mat. Legolas knew behind that smile, the dark-haired elf had a reason...and he would find it out. Soon enough. Although he should be worrying more about the fight. He had to last up long enough to find out what Morinlai was planning.
Seeing he and Morinlai needed to be in the same base, Legolas stripped off his shirt as well. He blushed deeply as he felt both of their eyes break him down critically, analyzing. They might have been worse than his father! His blush deepened. Legolas was by far not as toned as these two elves were, but archery had made his physique toned and muscular, even before training.
"You exercise as well?" piped up Kaitsuran cheerfully, grinning at him.
Legolas blushed deeper than ever. "I only do archery."
"Do not underestimate it. Archery is an incredibly helpful skill. Not only are the legs required to make a proper, firm stance but your torso needs to be in incredible shape, in order to be flexible enough to shoot from various directions," stated Morinlai, flexing his muscles before the fight. "And the arms as well. Archery is not as easy as it seems, and requires a lot of limb power from the arms in order to pull back the bowstring, especially when skill and speed are required."
"You seem knowledgeable on the subject. Do you practice archery as well?"
"Yes, but I admit it is not my forte," sighed Morinlai with a roll of his eyes. "I use it as a way to warm up before my actual exercises, or as a way to root out my anger. It seems I have a bad temper."
"I'm surprised. You're always so calm and reserved," stated Legolas in confusion, trying to picture this wall of stone expressing something other than boredom. It was hilarious, and he tried not to smirk out loud.
"Reserved? You should see him in his tantrums!" laughed Kaitsuran suddenly. "Banging things, running all over the house, destroying pottery, shouting and causing a wreck, his face reddening like a tomato, hollering like a little Noldo lady in the market-!"
"I believe that's enough!" snapped Morinlai in annoyance, although Legolas saw some affection in his voice once more. He turned to Legolas, calming down. "Anyways, are you ready?"
"As long as you are."
"Good. Because if you meet an orc, you won't get a warning." And Morinlai lunged for him, abandoning all sorts of care he had shown towards Kaitsuran. It was obvious this wasn't his full capacity, but he probably wanted to bring down Legolas quickly, in order to show off his skill and possibly give him a message. He wanted to use the proper amount to destroy Legolas.
But he would soon realize, Legolas wasn't so easy to catch.
Legolas moved out of the way as Morinlai lunged forward. However, this didn't catch the tall elf off guard. His instincts were almost instantaneous, and as soon as Legolas had turned around, sure that he was out of harm's way, he found himself face-to-face with the back of Morinlai's boot. With a small involuntarily gasp, he ducked and was just able to avoid the blow as it passed by where he had been in a flash. But the attacks did not stop. Getting back up, Legolas found himself kneed in the stomach and this made him fall backwards. The blow itself didn't hurt, but the fall did. He groaned but got back up once more, sliding his leg across Morinlai's unsuspecting ones. This did make (something which Legolas noticed had made Kaitsuran's eyebrows raise in curiosity) him trip, but he landed well, for his hands were able to give him enough strength to make a flip, enabling himself to stand up on firm ground once more. Then, he'd turned around and flashed a sly smile at Legolas, as if he were welcoming him to make more bold moves like that one.
Although that didn't happen.
From then, it seemed that Morinlai was teasing him, playing. Legolas didn't like it, knowing the entire fight was being manipulated and controlled by the dark-haired elf for his amusement, but he found himself not being able to change things. They performed a skillful dance, one full of blocks, dodges, lunges, slashes, punches, kicks, slides, twists, turns; movements that almost made them seem like they were flying, a showcase of grace and agility.
It seemed, however, that Morinlai had gotten tired of playing. Legolas felt their fight slowly draw to its end and he lamented on how short it had been. Was he really not capable of being a worthy opponent, a challenge? However, thinking proved to be a mistake, since it distracted him from the battle briefly. This gave Morinlai the space he needed and he threw a punch directed at his chest, but Legolas was quickly able to move it away and threw a punch back at him, aimed at Morinlai's right shoulder. However, this proved to be another mistake. The dark-haired elf was able to quickly spin, turning away from the blow and with Legolas' arm stretched out mid-air, Morinlai was able to grab it and pulled him, using the arm to slam him hard against the floor.
Legolas groaned, landing on the floor hard. Morinlai sure had strength in him! His size was no joke. However, Legolas' pain and anguish was interrupted when another presence moved closer to them with a big smile.
"Whoa, I didn't know you fought so nicely!" grinned Kaitsuran cheerfully, looking at them both with twinkling eyes, jumping enthusiastically at Legolas' direction. "Your form was very clean."
"You are a good fighter, prince," nodded Morinlai with some approval in his voice after he took his hands off Legolas. He wiped some of the sweat on his forehead and then offered one hand to help the elf prince stand up. "And you have a lot of skill already, but there is something you have yet to learn."
"And what might that be?" asked Legolas, gratefully accepting the helping hand and clasping it firmly so to lift himself up and help his muscles rest a bit.
"Don't trust anyone too much," snapped Morinlai and gave Legolas a sickly grin.
He let go off Legolas' hand and let him drop to the floor with a big thump! The elf prince groaned, slowly dragging his dirty and sweaty body up in order to look better and be able to reply back. However, much to his dismay, Morinlai and Kaitsuran were already gone, walking calmly a long distance away and chattering about the proper length of fighting blades. Legolas grumbled in annoyance and stood up firmly, crossing his arms against his chest and observing them for a while more until he headed the opposite direction towards the showers. But he did conclude with something.
These two were ones to watch out for.
O-O-O
"Well well, nobody died last night? Congratulations. You've proved to me you're not as idiotic as I thought you were. Of course, that doesn't improve my thoughts for you that much, but I suppose progress is progress."
The ninety or so novices stood quietly in neat rows in front of Daedhel, who seemed particularly sassy today, sporting a smirk on his usually emotionless face. However, his clothing was still as noble, elegant and organized as it had always been, armour clicked in neatly and slick dark hair combed carefully. Legolas gritted his teeth. It was Daedhel's dry and arrogant voice once more. How did the handsome swordmaster ever manage to be so bored yet so teasing? It was annoying, like a double-edged sword. You never knew what or how the swordmaster was thinking.
The prince was still plotting his revenge.
"Anyways," said Daedhel, finishing some scribbles and then slapping his notepad shut, scaring all of the novices, he shoved his notepad in his pocket and looked at them sternly. "Examinations are today."
Silence.
"Everyone," he stated as he began pacing, "is expected to be of their best behavior, and that doesn't mean you'll just grin like idiots and do as you're told. No, you're expected to go beyond that, and try your very best to excel than is not a competition, but it might as well be. This is the first glimpse us, masters, will get from you and you would do well to give us a good impression. You will need it after all, if you will want to survive."
Silence.
"We will hand you your schedules after this talk. You must not reveal your schedule to anyone, not even to those you trust. They might turn out to be traitors." Legolas gulped, his hands tightening into fists inside his pockets. The rule weighed on him the most, as the King's son. "Keep it to yourself. However, today you need not be worried by that meddlesome schedule. Only for today, you will travel with the same group for examinations. Is that understood?"
Silence.
"Is that understood, scums?"
This time, no one dared say nothing. They spoke at once, nodding and speaking and looking up at Daedhel desperately, as if asking him to please not vaporize them all. He snorted, taking out his notepad once more and scribbling, although he seemed pleased by the respect and fear he imposed. He then shut it once more, and then looked at them all.
"You will have eight examinations, with small ten minute breaks between every two examinations. After all of these are done, you will have the rest of the day off. That is because tomorrow your real training starts and that is where you will truly learn the meaning of suffering," stated Daedhel, making them all shudder. He continued rambling.
"The examinations are for swordfight, spearfight, archery, knifework, hand-to-hand combat, survival skills, etiquette and knowledge, which also includes ethics and tactics in it. Knifework is an hour, as is spearfight. Hand-to-hand combat is an hour and a half, as is swordfight. Survival skills is two hours, while knowledge testing is three. And finally, etiquette is four hours."
14 hours in all? They must be insane! thought Legolas inwardly.
"Good luck," Daedhel smirked wider and walked away, leaving them stupefied.
O-O-O
"Hello Legolas!"
Legolas smiled in recognition and turned to see two familiar-looking elves heading towards him at top speed, each bearing a cheerful grin. One certain spiky red-haired one and a tall, reedy brown-haired one with cunning blue eyes. However, despite his gladness to see someone familiar, he kept his tone neutral and casual, not too desperate. "Than, Meren. It is good to see you."
"It is indeed! We tried to find you so the three of us could be bunked together," grinned Thangurion back, raking his messy brown hair back apologetically. Then he sighed, his face turning grim. "We didn't find you anywhere, though. So we were unwillingly forced to bunk with one of Turen's cronies instead. A total fool, I tell you, and a bore."
The prince cringed, half-genuinely, half-mockingly. "That must be terrible."
"Bloody Mandos, yes! And what's worse, he snores," gagged Meren as the three of them walked away from the training fields towards their first examination like the other chattering novices. Yet his voice always remained positive. "At least we didn't receive the king. I would've begged to go to the Halls if it came to that. By the way, it was pretty great what you did on him. Ha, I'd like to see Turen snort with a crooked nose!"
"I-It was nothing. I only did it because of self-defense," replied Legolas awkwardly. "And by the way, I am sorry for dragging you into stable-cleaning duty as well. It really was my own fault. You two shouldn't have-"
"Nah, it's all right! Besides, I think one of the stable hands there totally has an infactuation on me," grinned Meren flirtatiously, making Than snort and Legolas frown. "And 'self-defense?' Are you kidding? It was pure bravery! You're a hero now!"
"A...hero?" asked Legolas quizzically. Yet he felt a sudden, budding sensation in his heart. A warm feeling. Not humiliation. Not anger. Not frustration. It was something else, something Legolas couldn't quite picture. Something surprisingly nice.
Thangurion sighed, rolling his eyes as he whacked Meren in the head playfully and smiled gently at Legolas. "What Meren means is that you've become quite well-known. Turen has been tormenting us all for decades and no one has done anything about it. No one has dared. No one other than you, and everyone thinks it's pretty 'admirable,' willing to get into trouble to stand up against that big bully. They're even giving you a nickname: the Defiler."
"The Defiler? That's horrible." It was Legolas' turn to gag.
[AN: It reminds me a lot of Azog, but I just thought 'defiler' sounded nice]
"Not at all. Nicknames here are really important," said Meren in his matter-of-fact voice. "My brothers, the twins, they told me that nicknames are pretty much the basis of your reputation in the novice camp. They define you and your character. Everyone eventually gets a nickname, and that pretty much defines if they are likeable or not. It's their personality. For you to get one so early up in the training, and one like the Defiler...it's a sign of respect, Legolas. A sign of acknowledgement."
"Well Meren, that's about the deepest thing I've heard from you," exclaimed Than, laughing.
"Hey! I can say deep things when I want to!" squeaked the red-haired elf. "How deep? So deep! Deeper than the sea itself! Deeper than a bloody cliff! Deeper than-!"
"Totally, Meren," smirked Than, rolling his eyes.
The cousins continued bickering, but Legolas was in another world. His breath had stilled and his eyes had almost frozen in time. Respect. He was respected. He wasn't the spoiled prince, second to his brother, second to the kingdom and the palace staff. He wasn't treated as a spare, as a poor copy of his father compared to his older brother. He wasn't childish, or too young, or too weak, or too unknowledgeable, or too incapable of things. Here he was respected. He was acknowledged. He...he had an identity. He didn't need to hide beneath his brother or his father or his family's shadow. He could forge and create his very own identity. He could create his own image of himself, unblemished from the prejudices of coming from a noble house. He could be himself, and be the elf he had always wanted to be.
And it was glorious.
O-O-O
Legolas twiddled his thumbs nervously as he watched the professor, a reedy elf whose name he'd forgotten already because of his nerves, pass out the exam papers. He was starting his knowledge testing. The papers were divided into various sections depending on their subjects and were designed for various levels and aptitudes. No one was expected to finish the massive pile, of course, but every question you answered was to be evaluated, as well as the number of questions accomplished.
The prince gave a deep sigh, squirming in his seat. He wasn't a particularly good student, so he didn't have very high hopes for this examination, but he hoped he could at least come up to average.
The professor was coming closer to him and Legolas felt some beads of sweat roll from behind his neck. He wanted to wipe them off, but it was as if his hands were glued to the desk. He was completely nervous and his legs had also turned to mush, shaking uncontrollably. Fortunately, everyone else was too anxious to notice, so he had spared himself from humiliation. Legolas shook his head, taking deep breaths to try and calm himself.
He couldn't be so negative! Maybe he had hope! Just maybe. Maybe this test wouldn't be so difficult after all...
And of course, when all the tests had been distributed and the professor had indicated for them to flip the papers and start, Legolas put his eyes in the first question and found himself to be wrong.
Sketch and describe the migratory pattern of the Dunedáin over the past ages. Afterwards, explain what influenced these patterns and the effect of these upon the population.
Legolas' tutor had taught him about the Dunedáin and their history. The young elf had initially been fascinated by the magical race descending from King Elros, but as he did with studying, he'd gotten bored. He simply could not stay focused, and staying inside reading about events that had happened centuries before he was even conceived wasn't his idea of entertainment. Nevertheless, he regretted it deeply now. The question, he knew, was easy, but Legolas' mind was a blank slate. It...didn't matter. He could just go back to that question later. However, the entire page was full of similar questions so he decided to flip some pages to see if it would be much better.
It wasn't.
Name all Feanorians, make a brief description of each, and then proceed to make a detailed summary of each of their demises/unfortunate fates.
This was even easier, but his mind strangely remained blank. And so it went on...
Compare the differences and similarities between the Nirnaeth Arnoediad and Dagorlad. Why were these two battles vital for the Firstborn and what were the casualties, both in general and especially? Which important figures were lost?
The Twelve Noble Houses of Gondolindrim all played critical parts in the Fall of Gondolin. State each house's name, symbol(s) and leader.
Unfortunately, it didn't bring him anything. His mind remained blank, his memory empty despite all of the books he had been forced to read on the history of Gondolin and of Middle-Earth's first few ages. Were there any questions more difficult than the ones in this history section? However, he found himself to be wrong...when he got to the medical part.
This _ root, along with _ amount of poor Western spices will serve as a proper supplement/substitute for a certain herb. State the answers and then using these, create a detailed step-to-step guide on how to create this healing replacement.
You and a companion are scouts. While scouting forward, something goes wrong and your companion is severely injured. Both of you manage to escape, but he has been shot by an arrow and it is buried in his lower torso, near various vital organs. You are in unfamiliar territory, not close to any medical supplies or support, and can only rely on your instincts and nature. You know that by taking the arrow out, you might risk making your companion bleed to death, as well as reveal your positions with the scent of his blood. However, you know that by letting the arrow stay in, the damage could worsen and it could also be fatal. What would be most prudent?
Give a thorough description of the process and purposes of anmniocentesis.
Not becoming a healer any time soon, muttered Legolas in his head. If only his friends, the Elrondion twins, were here. As goofy and lightheaded as they might have initially seemed, Legolas truly respected them when it came to the medical area, or any of the various areas the Elrondion twins held with expertise. Both of them proved to be as diligent, talented and serious as their father about healing, and were very knowledgeable in the area. They even had potential to become even better than their father one day! Surely they could have helped Legolas score full points in the medical part.
He sighed. Alas, they weren't here.
He flipped to the engineering. Surely crafts wouldn't be too hard?
Describe the handcraft of Teleri boats.
Give a detailed explanation of the forging of the dark blade, Anglachel, and how its creation affected history.
And it wasn't, but his mind remained blank.
He groaned, realizing these weren't the only sections to the seemingly endless test. He buried his head into his lap. This was going to be terrible.
O-O-O
The rest of his examinations went all right...or that was what he thought.
Etiquette came easily. Legolas aced through it with no difficulty, seeing that his father had been particularly strict on Legolas' composure. Even as a spare heir, he needed to have an appearance worthy of court, and Thranduil had always instilled good manners and values in the young elf.
Knifework also came, but much to Legolas' surprise, it wasn't that difficult. Legolas' positions might have been off most of the times, but he had impeccable aim, be it archery or any other weapons. So he was mostly able to hit the targets and battle with it. Blunt knives weren't so different than toy wooden swords, it seemed. This also applied to spearfight and swordfight, although...swordfighting did not go well.
It involved Daethel, Turen and many other things Legolas preferred to speak of later.
Survival was not very difficult either, although Legolas did not do as well as he had expected himself to do. He had finished his work, but not smoothly. Others, however, had done tasks in half the time Legolas had taken to do his, and much smoothly. Caranith, that annoying elleth who had almost chopped Legolas, was one of these people. Her fingers, although rough and blemished, moved gracefully, be it to make a cast using tree bark, lighting a fire, creating a bucket out of almost nothing and much more. She was truly skilled. This made him feel both frustrated and embarrassed. Was Legolas really a 'sheltered and spoiled' little prince?
He shook his head off it. Nevermind that.
O-O-O
"Hmm...promising, is he?"
"Yes, sir. That is what I am saying. He is a bit unsure of himself still, but I have good faith in him. He will grow to be a confident, good-hearted leader; a hero that will make us all proud one day. His abilities are already starting to grow as well, and he is beginning to become more extroverted. Also, he might be a mischievous, as I reported to you earlier, sir, but I see it as a rebellious spark. That will serve him well, although I fear his recklessness might lead him to his death. Nobody's luck lasts forever anyways, they say, especially when you choose to dedicate yourself to battle."
"Naturally. But discipline will straighten his ways. Maybe not today, maybe not tomorrow, but it will. My words are absolute."
"I believe so too, sir. But I do not think he is one to yield easily."
"Then we will make him yield. There are some things you defy, but somethings you need to follow. If you have no discipline, no order, no strict will, then you are nothing. No matter how good of a warrior you are, you will wither and die as soon as you go to combat. This elfling is not going to become a commander in one day, anyways. He has yet a lot to learn."
"Yes, I agree, sir. Although you must admit, sir, tthat the King has raised another good one."
"As expected of him. However, I do believe this one is different from his predecessors."
"How so, sir?"
"You will see in time."
O-O-O
Legolas stood, feeling the most confident he'd ever been since his arrival.
The arrow notched on his bow weren't weapons. They were extensions of himself, extensions of his limbs and of his body. They weren't cold and foreign, they were warm and familiar. They were his friends. His years of practice washed over him, and a sense of comfort came to him as he watched others struggle on what Legolas now thought was nothing trivial. And then he realized, this was home. Not the palace, not the trees, not Middle-Earth: his skill. His skill was his greatest comfort, and wherever he went, his skill would remind him of home. Remind him of the journey that had taken him here, the journey that he would follow to become even better at his art, his archery.
"Begin!" shouted Peleas as simultaneously, five young novices shot their arrows.
Basically, Peleas, the archery instructor, called five novices at a time to make some basic archery drills. It was nothing hard, but apparently many broke under the pressure. Archery was very tedious and expected much from you, after all. Like patience and timing. Many of the others' arrows flew out crooked, swirling uncontrollably. Some didn't even fly. Some bows clattered to the ground weakly. Some arrows did succeed in their path, but not where they intended to be. One of these was Caranith's, whose frustrated grunt made Legolas secretly feel pleased with himself.
But Legolas didn't care. This was all timed. Peleas was only giving them thirty seconds to accomplish ten shots. It was all under a specific time, and Legolas couldn't afford wasting it. Of course, nobody was expecting you to perform all of them...but Legolas had to. He just did. Because he knew he could. He knew he had that capacity. He could do it and he would do it. His arms started burning as he lets his arrows fly beautifully, but he tried to remind himself that this wasn't anything compared to his usual practice routine.
Then, faster than anything Legolas had wished for, Peleas' horn blew and the archers stopped.
He was out of breath. Legolas had to step back a while and tried to regain some oxygen, leaning against a tree trunk briefly for support. He didn't even bother to see if his arrows had even see the target. Despite the short duration of the exercise, Legolas was completely exhausted. Finally, after a few gulps, he looked up and was surprised by what he saw.
Everyone was gaping at him. Everyone, not only the watching novices but the ones shooting alongside him, looked awestruck, jaws hung open and eyes widened to the limit. Caranith's flabbergasted face was possibly the most memorable of them all. Even Peleas looked at him with approval, writing in his notepad while nodding repeatedly as he did so. Legolas frowned by all the shocked reactions. Why were they so shocked at him? Had anything happened that he wasn't aware of? Was there anything behind the prince? What?
Then he finally realized what it was, as he looked up at his target.
And there there were: ten perfectly split arrows, all coming from the bull's eyes.
Legolas cracked into his awkward wobbly smile, scratching the back of his neck nervously. He was used to attention, but not because of his abilities. It felt both gratifying but strange too, and he wasn't exactly sure how to react.
"I had heard rumours that the youngest prince did archery for a hobby," said Peleas mildly, appearing from behind the young blond-haired prince, walking in front to face him. He then suddenly flashed Legolas a mysterious smile, something Legolas wasn't sure was an entirely good sign. Then he pointed to the ten perfectly split arrows. "I'm afraid they might have underestimated his skill they spoke of, though."
"T-Thank you, sir, b-but I don't think so. It is just a hobby of mine," said Legolas awkwardly, scratching the back of his hair. He liked getting these indirect compliments, but was not used to receiving them, therefore making it umcomfortable. "Nothing major."
"A hobby?" smirked Peleas. "So other elflings might play tag and collect leaves and stones, but instead you collect arrows so to use them later in archery practice?"
"That's right, sir. In a way."
"Do you practice everyday?"
"Yes, sir."
"How long each day?"
"Erm, maybe an hour..."
"Sir," corrected Peleas, reminding Legolas of the title he needed to use to address the other masters and camp superiors.
"There's no need to call me sir, Master Peleas," replied Legolas, feeling some sass starting to boil in his blood, possibly due to this 'hormone' thing his brother had tried to explain to him. Some people giggled behind him but Master Peleas was definitely not amused, as his face turned slightly scarlet and some lines on his face deepened in annoyance.
[This is actually based on one of the conversations Harry has with Snape in The Harry Potter series. Even though Daedhel is based on Snape, and not Peleas, I just thought I should put it here, since this story is largely based on the HP series]
"Thranduilion, you're making it really difficult to compliment you."
"Sorry, sir."
"Anyways," continued Peleas, although his smile had faded much to Legolas' disappointment. "You should not underestimate your skill, Thranduilion. It is obviously a gift. Not one novice has been able to shoot all ten arrows under my time, and much less with such accuracy. And for someone so young to gain such skill with only an hour of practice a day...it is incredible. Congratulations." Then he turned to look at the other four. "Of course, the rest of you have done well too. The novices have been getting better with every generation. I am proud. You are dismissed for now. You may rest for a while until we do the next pair of archery exercises."
But they're becoming less too, thought Legolas to himself about the novices.
And it was true. More novices were being sent off prematurely because of the lack of soldiers in patrols. Soldiers were dying, and some of Mirkwood had become as desperate as to recruit these kinds of inexperienced novices off into battle, some novices as young as Legolas was! Novices who didn't even have the strength to pull back a bowstring. Legolas felt his fist roll up in anger and frustration at the darkness. How long would it be until elves would stop dying to fight against the darkness? When would everyone stop suffering? Legolas remember Thalos telling him that his novice camp had been made up of hundreds and hundreds of fellow novices, standing eagerly alongside Thalos. Now, in Legolas' time, there were not even a hundred, and most look more scared than excited.
What had become of his home?
As the others started whispering to each other animatedly, some even flashing admiring looks at Legolas, the blond elf prince finally allowed himself to slump forward and relax. He hadn't realized how tensed he'd been, but now he was relieved it all over. He started walking off the fields in order to get a drink of water and maybe do some small exercises in order to shake the nervousness away from him-
"Not you, Thranduilion."
Legolas paused and suddenly whirled around, frowning at the archery master. Others did the same, their whispering louder now, and the blond archer looked extremely confused as the archery master sternly looked at the prince. "Why not, sir?"
"There are some things I want to test you with," stated the archery master neutrally.
"Oh...all right sir," stated Legolas awkwardly, not knowing what to expect. He gave a little shrug at the end in order to emphasize his confusion. Others also looked confused, but not as much as the prince. Instead, they actually sat down and settled up, as if they were going to stay and watch! Legolas was horrified. He hated practicing with crowds.
Immediately, Peleas shoved a bow into his hands, and a quiver full of arrows, which almost seemed to come out of nowhere. Perhaps masters had that ability. "Have you used moving targets?"
"Erm...relatively."
"Relatively?" snapped Peleas, his voice sharper now, more demanding.
"Well, I've barely done practice on that. I've gone on some nearby patrols before too, sir. Just to watch and learn a bit. But...sometimes my shooting was needed, and honestly, I don't think orcs are going to give you time to aim," stated Legolas, as the whispers quieted down behind him as they heard the words 'patrol,' and 'orcs.'
"Hm, good enough then," stated Peleas. Then, out of nowhere as well, he cranked a lever and some gears roared to life. Wood creaked and in front of him, Legolas could see the targets start to move and spin around. Behind him, Legolas could feel shocked murmurs, even a "Whoa, those things moved?" from a surprised youthful voice. Peleas looked at the young archer. "Now, shoot ten arrows. Try to hit them all."
Legolas did his ten shots, pouring out the very best of him and as he looked at his target after he finished, he winced. Seven out of ten. And out of those ten that had hit the target, only three had hit the bull's eyes, or any other critical points. The other four were just wildly spread on the target, pinpointing random points. Some were even on the very border!
He turned to look at the archery master, expecting to be ridiculed and insulted, but Peleas gave no comment, only scribbling dutifully in that small notepad all masters were awarded. Finally, he looked up, and gestured using his quill, a spot where Legolas had to move. "Again, different angle. Move over there."
Frowning, Legolas did what he was told and repeated the process.
This time, he was surprised to have improved. Only one of his arrows went too high, flying over bounds because of a bad hand posture Legolas possessed. However, the rest were firm and sturdy, all giving satisfying thwacks against the wooden targets. Five of these hit the bull's eye, three were lopsided and this time, only one hit the very border.
He looked up at Peleas, waiting for some sort of comment, perhaps a compliment, but like the first time got nothing. The archery instructor only wrote and instructed Legolas. This time, he changed Legolas' angle once more. Legolas didn't improve, which was a disappointment, but he wasn't stopped either. Peleas only continued dictating.
It got harder as the 'testing' went on. Legolas had to shoot at farther distances, had to often position himself in weird positions, had difficult angles, was given different types of targets and even if it had only been ten or so continuous minutes of drills, Legolas was exhausted. He always gave himself some rest time between drills, but his body was now screaming. His muscles ached, his neck and joints throbbed and he hadn't even been given time to wipe off his sweat. But it didn't look like he was finished yet.
"Two more until we all go back to the real examinations," stated Peleas. He grabbed an apple from his pocket, positioned it on his head and looked at Legolas, who was several feet away from the instructor. "First, shoot this apple off my head."
"What?" asked Legolas incredulous, his bow suddenly feeling heavier. "I can't do that!"
"You can't, or you don't want to?"
"N-No sir, it's not that! I'm not disobeying your orders. It's just that I...I could shoot you."
Much to his surprise, Peleas laughed. "Me? That's probable. I could lose an eye, even! So it's up to you, Thranduilion. Either you take care of your shooting and do as I told you, or you get another punishment added to your already growing pile. It's your choice."
"That's not f-!" Legolas was about to argue and then he sighed reluctantly, shoulders slumping forward in defeat. It was obvious that even here in the novice camp, there was no justice or fairness. It was all about survival. Then he
He shot the apple off. Barely, and along with Legolas' arrow, skittered messily unto the muddy floor. Legolas sighed in relief. He hadn't killed or mutilated his archery master. That was progress. Suddenly, his face tightened in pain. A muscle in his shoulder had suddenly started burning and he fell to the ground, shocked by how tremendously his shoulder sizzled. Nevertheless, all the other novices were frozen in place while Peleas only looked down coldly, watching as Legolas grabbed his sore shoulder.
"Get up," he snapped. "We are not done yet, Thranduilion."
Legolas looked up at him incredulously and was about to snap back in indignance. Was the elf blind or did he not see him squirming in the ground with pain while holding his sore shoulder? However, it seemed it wasn't necessary. A voice stopped Peleas from further speech and in a casual, fruity yet firm tone, stated:
"-Stop it, Peleas. Honestly, you didn't even push me that hard when you were considering me for the course. This is why there are never any candidates: you scare them away with your angry face."
Legolas looked up and managed to get an image.
The owner of the voice was surprisingly young, perhaps more or less a century older than Legolas. He had rugged long red hair braided carefully down until his hip and sharp green eyes, that twinkled with amusement...but also hidden wisdom, wisdom Legolas was eager to decipher. He was also very fit, as shown by a very well-practiced muscles he had beneath his clothes and the lean posture he had. And he was obviously of Silvan heritage, for his looks, his mind and his personality clearly reflected his identity. He soon also became the subject of admiration for many of the female novices - although Caranith had only snorted and shaken her head when she'd seen this fact - but he paid them no heed as he turned and flashed a charming grin at Peleas.
Peleas wasn't happy, but he was clearly amused. He sighed, grumbled, and turned to look at the young red-haired elf with a half-affectionate, half-disapproving face. Then, he burst into a small smirk, greeting the young elf with an outstretched arm and having that same greeting returned to him by the cheerful red-haired.
"My face, for your information young Firen, is not angry."
"Yes, and I am not handsome," smirked the Firen elf back, rolling his eyes. Then he turned to Legolas, who had still been lying on the floor and was looking up at him with amazement. Then, to his further amazement, the red-haired crouched down slightly and offered his hand to the prince. Legolas doubted him slightly, especially because of what had happened with Morinlai that morning, but he had a feeling...just a feeling, that Firen was safe to trust.
"Hey there greenie!" he smiled, hand still outstretched. "My name is Firen. You're young, but I was younger when I started. Say, would you mind joining my advanced archery class? We are in need of more prodigies like you. And I'm very greedy, I tell you. I won't accept 'no' for an answer. What d'ya say?"
For a second, Legolas looked up at the elf with a look of pure confusion, but it didn't take him long to get an answer. Using his other hand, he firmly grasped Firen's and allowed himself to be helped up, solidly hopping to his feet and standing up as he faced the advanced archery instructor with a timid beam. And shyly, from the very inside of his heart, with everything Legolas could genuinely muster, he said:
"If you won't accept no for an answer, sir, then I think I will be honored to say yes."
"Fantastic! From now on call me Firen, greenie. Sir? Honestly, that makes me sound as old and dull as Peleas. And we all know the obvious genetic differences we both possess."
"Yes, yes, young Firen. Because we are all truly envious for not having been graced with your incredible humour and rugged good looks. You are absolutely hilarious."
O-O-O
AN: I finally update! I am so sorry. My life really got ahold of me, as well as some other personal emotional issues. But I'm feeling much better now! We're finally in school vacation and this will probably give me much more time. But do forgive me for taking such a long time to update. I really am trying to cut my updating time down.
But anyways, yay, a happier chapter! Don't you think Legolas deserved that, after all I put him to in the last few chapters? (Unless you'd like some more suffering and humilliation...)
So, here are the reviews (AND I REALIZED I DIDN'T RESPOND TO THE REVIEWS LAST CHAPTER...AND I AM SO SORRY! Please forgive me again everyone!)
MaskedMan2: Thank you! :D I always look forward to receiving your feedback. It is so helpful and flattering (so much, that I hardly believe I deserve it)! Anyways, I have not read the Brotherband Chronicles, but I am sure to check it out and give it a look! Truth is, this whole novice camp idea came from many of the animes I watch, but it's also based strongly on Harry Potter and other fandom influences, so I do believe the Brotherband Chronicles will be a great help. And although this chapter didn't have much of Daedhel, I do like his interaction with Legolas. Haha, I secretly like all interactions Legolas has. He's at such a young stage of life and he has so many conflicted feelings, which makes his growth seem all the more interesting! But once more, thank you. I do enjoy making my characters anyways (what do you think of Firen?), but it's the reviewers, the readers and others who support me that fuel my writing.
WoodElfJedi: Thanks! And it turns out not everyone is out to get him. Haha, although *teeny spoiler alert* that's not the last piece of suffering he's going to get. But for now, Legolas is actually fitting in! And trust me, Firen will help him a lot on that. :) Oh, and I will try to update the best I can!
Horsegirl01: Haha, but at the very least this chapter was a happy one for Legolas! Or as happy as one can get. And I promise you, Legolas will get some friends...and very good ones too! And he will get to know Viruvil better in the future. And thanks for always keeping up with my work! :)
Bettsam0731: Thanks! I love Viruvil too. And the group will get stronger. After all, once the real training starts, so does gaining points and everything. The competition will probably increase and they will need to become more united in the future, despite their differences. And although I think I did pretty badly describing the examinations, I'm happy that you're looking forward to my updates! :) I always appreciate you guys' support!
Wenduo: First of all, thanks for reviewing and supporting so much! You obviously went in-depth with each chapter and I really, really appreciate it! :D I'm glad you're liking the story so far and I hope that you keep on being awesome and reading!
Schattenjagd: Haha, you're totally right! I think I did go a little bit too far, but I was planning to delay his admission to the advanced archery course a teeny bit so that you could get an idea how harsh the camp could be. And even though Legolas is talented, he's still really young. He is still not to his full potential and some of his mistakes might indeed make him look like a clown. And I finally updated! It's such a relief. I thought I could never do it, but I did! Thanks for pulling in and always offering me support, even when my writing gears were broken. I'm really grateful to be able to hear and receive so many kind words from you! I will try to update as much as I can...and I always look forward to your work too!