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The sun shines brightly over the gold fields of Rohan as you approach the entrance to what must be the largest tourney you've ever seen. Vibrant green, blue and red banners are draped everywhere proudly bearing the white horse of Rohan. The day is only just beginning and already the area is buzzing with life! Squires rush backwards and forth bearing equipment, armour and refreshments for the knights, people of all shapes and sizes mill around the market as merchants already set about decorating their stalls with all manners of colourful objects and young lads carry off barrels of ale towards the feasting hall just around the corner. There's so much to do, so much to see..but where do you start first?

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First post of the touney!!

Pip rode at the forefront of at least fifty representatives of Emyn Celevorn, possibly known better by the name of Silverhill to the Rohirrim- a people Pip did not think had any knowledge of Sindarin. Or at least he assumed they didn't for they belonged to a much more primitive culture than the Gondorians, after all the only thing they were particularly well-known for was their ability to farm. And if Pip was going to be frank, that wasn't much of an achievement...

Though he would admit that they were very good at breeding horses. The white gelding he rode now was a Rohirrim horse and was a magnificent horse.

At his side rode his friends who, like himself, proudly carried their blue and silver armour as they prepared to arrive at Rohan's tourney. The armour itself was purely decorative but it was fashioned with the utmost skill and delicacy. Pip was very aware that it had cost his father a fortune to have commissioned but it was worth every gold piece. His was fitted so that it complimented his athletic yet relatively slender figure. He found that a lot of armour made him look fatter than he was. His mother had reassured him that he never looked fat... But Pip didn't believe her. Though this armour fit very comfortably and was nowhere near as bulky as most suits of armour. On the chest plate were stunningly intricate deep blue designs that stood out against the flawless smooth silver metal beneath. And at the centre were two jewelled swans, the sigil of his House. And draped elegantly over their horses were the rich blue capes that all of the knights of Emyn Celevorn wore.

There had also been an ornate circlet made to match the armour, but Pip had turned it down immediately- circlets really did not suit him. They made him look like a really ugly girl. Circlets just did not work well with mid-length curly hair. No matter how pretty or ornate they were.

"So are we taking bets as to who's winning the different events?" Pip turned to his friends who were close behind him.

"Well aside from a few Elves in the joust, I'd say you have a good chance of securing a place as champion for that event." Quinn spoke up first with a wide grin as he was already getting excited for the tourney. It was only really Pip who participated in the jousting whenever they travelled to tourneys. The others usually preferred to take part in the mêlée and sword trials.

"But looks like we all have a fair bit of competition in the mêlée." Albion cut in, "And not only has Dashiell been getting up early to practice but there are some big names entered in that event. Lots of Elves.." He muttered, clearly irritated that the mêlée had in it immortal warriors thousands of years old... talk about a long time to practice.

"Though most Elves are really uncomfortable in heavy armour, making them rather useless at jousting and potentially making them a little unsteady in the arena." Pip shrugged. Elves were ridiculously good fighters but they rarely practised with the heavy and quite bulky armour that was required for quite a few of the events giving Men a distinct advantage over them.

"Trust me, I think we can handle a few Elves if we play our cards right. It's not like they're invincible." Dashiell pointed out

"Or can fight from all sides-" Quinn started before he was interrupted by the as the company finally caught sight of where the tourney would be hosted. They all continued in brief silence as they took in the scale of the event.

"King Thengel must have spent all of his coin to set this up." Elyan muttered from behind.

"My lord!" The herald interrupted as he rode up to them. "Shall I ride ahead to announce your presence?" He asked.

"That would be most appreciated" Pip grinned as he replied, unable to tear his eyes from the massive arenas that had been set up. This was going to be a tourney to remember.

made by EDEN

Quiet as the Snow.

Gilríen Rohilrien Outfit: Here Hair: Here Word Count: 359 Tags: N/A.

Rohan was far from what she expected, of course, having spent her entire life so far surrounded by the forests of Mirkwood the vast open spaces of Rohan surprised her. She couldn't believe people lived here, such an open, dangerous place to her understanding. She felt much more at home in the forest of Mirkwood where you could hide and move through the trees without notice. Perhaps that was merely the humans life, she didn't think judging right now would be the best idea. She was here to learn about others, as well as spending time at the celebrations and competing in the tourney. Representing Mirkwood was another task that father had given to her, her sister Aroreth and her brother, Legolas. As well as the guardsmen and warriors that had accompanied them. They wore the traditional deep green of Mirkwood with bronze coloured trims, most of the Ellon wore light armour with the Mirkwood crest embedded into them. Gilrien wore leather armour, simple yet effective and easy enough to ride in. She had taken her trusty and favourite horse Zvarian with her, he was a strong white stallion and despite his wild nature they shared one of the strongest bonds and she felt safest while riding him. She was interesting in buying another horse while she was here, Rohan was famous for it's horses and she would at least browse among them. They where coming closer to the hosting city of the tourney, the bright colours of the flags floating in the wind around them. As well as this, a large group in front of them was also coming into view, humans, perhaps from a well known family, Gilrien wasn't sure but they wore crests as the Mirkwood Elves did. She turned to look at her brother, who, as always looked the picture of calm and confident "Do you think there will be other Elves attending?" She asked, perhaps the Elves from Rivendell would make an appearance, from what she had been told, it would be a well attended event.

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The open plains of Rohan were as Legolas remembered them to be; only hills, hillocks and open sky as far as the eye could see. It was strangely freeing, the grassy plains calling to him, the wind whispering about the endless possibilities that lay ahead of him. The fact that he could see the stars, that he could run for miles without coming in to contact with another living being, appealed to him in a way he found difficult to explain. Of course he loved his home, would not forsake the dense forest for all the empty plains of the lands of men, but he would happily spend more time exploring the foreign land if he were given the chance to.

Legolas knew that, whilst he was no stranger to the lands beyond the borders of his home, his sisters were. Neither of them having travelled far from home, Legolas knew that they would find the openness and the lack of trees strange, perhaps even hostile, and, as soon as he had heard of the plans to travel to the tourney in Rohan, he had made a promise to himself that, despite being the youngest of the three by, he would keep an eye out for his sisters and keep them from harm. After all he had spent many months travelling the lands and knew the customs of men whilst his sisters had little to no experience with them. He had no desire to see his sisters hurt.

As they approached the entrance to the tourney grounds Gwindir, who had walked alongside the three siblings before, bid Legolas farewell and retreated to his place at the back of the group. Whilst the company was no diplomatic delegation it was still important to represent the elves of Mirkwood properly and they had therefore decided to enter the tourney grounds in formation. His sisters, being the only two of the group on horseback, travelled at the front of the train with Legolas in between them on foot. The rest of their company formed a neat line behind them, four abreast and five deep. Legolas was certain that, with their shining armour and polished swords and knives, their show of unparalleled discipline and unearthly grace, that they were indeed an impressive sight to behold.

There was a large group of men, from Gondor if Legolas was any kind of judge at all, ahead of them and the group of elves slowed behind them before coming to a stop. It was there that Gilrien turned to him with a question.

“There will certainly be some elves from Rivendell in attendance. Of that I am certain. Father did not tell you of this, it was but a last minute arrangement, but whilst we are here we are to meet a delegation of elves travelling from Rivendell. Once the tourney is done, or we have grown tired of the pastimes of men, we are to escort Lord Glorfindel, for it is he who is to be our guest, and his companions back to our home. There will be another Rivendell elf in attendance also. You remember the elf, Falyon, with whom I share a correspondence? I am sure I told you of her often enough that you would recognise the name. But that is of little consequence. She wrote to me a few months past to say that she would be attending the tourney, that she wished to meet me there so that we might see each other again.”

Aroreth had been uncomfortable they entire ride to Rohan. It wasn't that the scenery that whooshed by. The trees she had come to know thinned out and the grass widened out in all directions and into the horizon far from her sight. Passing over a clear river and into the grassy plains of Rohan.

It was the horse she was riding. The steed she had had was the best steed she'd ridden since she was young, Gilmir. He was a great horse, a large dapple grey Clydesdale. So gentle, so protective. He stayed with her during the time when she acquired her fear. And she had lost the large beast a few years ago, and it was a great lost to her, and she had never acquired a new personal horse. None of them had felt right. And no matter how hard Gilrien tried, nothing worked. Yes, all the horses they stabled were very well. But none really clicked with Aroreth.

The dark brown horse she rode was a gentle girl, but the size felt wrong to her, and she seemed to have a bad habit of cocking her head frequently. But gentle shushing quieted her for a while.

Noise pricked her ears and she turned her head to see the Tourney area. Banners and colourful red and gold tents fluttered in the gentle breeze. Newly built stands creeked slightly, and she wondered where they acquired the wood it took to build all of it.

As with her siblings she sensed, her clear and bright blue eyes flicked to the front of them and took the group of blue and silver dressed men and horses.

She halted beside her sister and listened to them talk in light hushed tones. "Do not forget that Alassea will be joining us later as well. And I do remember you mentioning Falyon, it shall be interesting to meet this Elleth," Aroreth said.

And even though Legolas had mentioned the Elf, she wondered about his feelings towards her. Just in a friendly way? Or the way Alassea seemed to blush and her eyes widened when the Lothlorien Elf saw her brother. It was strange, but for a while, she wondered about her siblings intimate relationships. Was it because she was married and had a child already? She didn't want to be bothered by that during the tournament and wanted to try and relax. But since becoming a mother she always seemed to worry about her Istuvial.

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Aroreth's dresses during the Tourney and the Ball

In the leaves on the trees and the touch of the b r e e z e

There's a pleasing sense of happiness for me

Lyra had never seen anything so impressive.

If balls were dreamy to highborn girls, then tourneys were even more dreamy to Lyra. Though being unable to participate in anything, Lyra was excited to be there. She was settled down and prepared to write a new series of songs concerning the everyday lives of Men - a historic jewel, she called it. Of course Lyra could not hope that it would be sung and re-sung over and over again, she still felt that it would be good sport, and good practice. Tourneys were one thing that certainly couldn't be missed in the series - it was a part of the culture of Middle-earth.

Lyra was in her best garments, dark blue colored dress with sewn patterns accompanied by a few jewelries as highlights. Her hair was in her normal style, most of it let down while a small portion was braided over her forehead. Her large Instrument was on her back, along with another large bag that she carried. Lyra smiled eagerly at everything, her hands reaching for the quill and parchment she placed inside her bag - she hope the ink didn't spill.

Lyra was the most regretful - she glanced to the glamorous market place and sighed heavily. She didn't have the money to buy things she wanted, and Lyra felt that everything would be out of stock by the time she gathered money from singing around. Even so, half of her earnings should be reserved for her family - I am mending my 'mistakes', remember? She thought fretfully.

She wished to meet interesting people. Lyra looked around again, she saw all races from Middle-earth. Everyone is here. Her thoughts flustered at the prospect that there could be elves and dwarves - and noble royalties as well. If she sing for them (and they approve of her, or does not take her for a fool), she could earn many gold, more than enough for the market. Lyra just hoped that everyone here was rich enough...

She planned to first buy a mule or a donkey at the markets, to be a mean of her transportation tool at the tourney - literally, anything but horses. Lyra opened a parchment scroll to see her plan. A checklist, to be more precise. Interview the champion of each competition, meet at least eight elves, meet at least five dwarves, buy this and buy that, sing this song and that... For a second Lyra wondered if she would be able to do all these things.

But, for now - Lyra trudged on and enjoyed the moment.

TAG: /	WORDS: 451	OUTFIT: see avatar
NOTES: Lyra's lovely appearance ^ ^

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Sitting here and wondering/watching the seasons going by/We have not learned anything/Let me live another day/Without sorrow, without shame/Let me feel the wind on my face/Let me feel the sun/And live my days with fun/Let me sing this hymn to life Rohan, the realm of horses and men... I never imagined it to be this jolly. Edlothia though as she moved with the pack of elves, a light satchel on her shoulders. She used to think that her realm was the cheeriest place in Middle-earth, but now she wasn't so sure. All around her talks, laughters, and peddling sounds exploded, and Edlothia felt slightly overwhelmed. In fact, this thing was so out of her expectations, that Edlothia wanted more than anything to scream in delight. But her mother's words rang like bells in her mind: Keep yourself safe little Ed, and if you can't beat your adversary just yield... Be cautious and good, and know that we want you home ALIVE. Or else your ada and I must rely on Lothriel to have a grandchild... Edlothia thought that as crazy talk, but still she did not dare disobey her mother. She wanted to be cautious as she could be. Nana couldn't have any idea how tourneys work, does she? Edlothia thought as she followed the other elves, slightly lagging behind. It is true that people could die out there, but I am not some warrior who doesn't even know how to wield a weapon - I will come home safe, and not a scrape shall be on my skin. She thought proudly, but the hearsay of some warriors who were a thousand years old will participate still frightened her. Or I'll just yield and say don't kill me please or something. Pride is nothing to me anyways. She thought, hand on chin. But still, saying don't kill me in front of a thousand audiences will be embarrassing nonetheless. Edlothia looked around and saw the market place not far away. She smiled and then walked away. Edlothia got everything she needed with her, armors and weapons and all. They are currently resting on a certain horse in the elven group, but on which, Edlothia had yet to find out. Though Edlothia had in mind to visit the marketplace when she have free time, she dared not use too much of her coins - for her father would call her a spendthrift once she got home and tell her to look to Lothriel as a role model. And though she was currently doing that, her parents always told her to look to Lothriel as a role model. This may all come as a surprise, but this was literally Edlothia's first tourney. The small ones she had been to - those that only hold one competition - were not at all noteworthy. Now this was truly something Edlothia could remember afterwards, and tell all her friends how brave she was in the jousting and the archery competition. Edlothia had little hope of winning either one, but still, it was all about participation, isn't it? "Um, excuse me, but where are we heading to?" Edlothia asked, hoping that some random person in the group would pick up on the question and answer her. template by SKYE at CAUTION 2.0

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translation: greetings my lord and ladies. I am Gimilzor of Silverhill.

As the herald disappeared down towards the site to announce Pip's arrival, Pip craned his neck and looked after him to see if he could see any of the banners and sigils of other Gondorian or Rohirrim Houses that he was familiar with. He'd appreciate a few familiar faces amongst the grand variety of beings that who had gathered to be here.

"Looks like we have a group of Elves following us to the Entrance. Mirkwood isn't it?" Albion spoke up and Pip turned to look at the stream of Elves not far behind them.

"That is indeed the Elvenking's Banner," Pip replied though he did not see the King of the Woodland Realm himself travelling at the forefront of the group. "I presume at their head would be Thranduil's heirs." If he remembered correctly King Thranduil had three daughters and a son- Legolas, though not for the life of him could he think of any of the daughters' names.

"Appears they've stopped. And they didn't even say hello! How antisocial of them" Elyan playfully mimicked Pip's tutors as he looked to the group of Elves.

"No manners what so ever!" Quinn joined in.

"Well lads, why don't we do the polite thing and ride out to greet them?" Pip said as he subconsciously made himself just that bit taller and more upright in his saddle. The Elves of Mirkwood were a sheltered and anti-social folk anyway so there was no point in them expecting anything to happen without them making the first move.

"Fine by me, but you do the talking Pip" Dashiell commented evenly, sounding neither excited nor against the idea of meeting the Mirkwood Elves.

Pip smiled and he turned to gallop back down the train of people behind him until he had found Mason to lead the group down. Then Pip galloped at the head of their group as they approached the Mirkwood Elves.

As they approached Pip took the opportunity to look over the two of them carefully. One was darker haired and looked distinctly older than the other with silver-blonde hair (presumably like her father). And as well as those two, Pip was quick to assume that the Elf stood beside them was Legolas, the resemblance the Elf bore with the portrait of the Elvenking in Pip's books was too similar to ignore. "Len suilon hirenin a herynenin." He gave a respectful salute as he greeted the Elves. "Im Gimilzor o Emyn Celevorn. "

made by EDEN

Quiet as the Snow.

Gilríen Rohilrien Outfit: Same Hair: Same Word Count: 348 Tags: N/A.

Gilrien listened intently as to what her brother had said to her. She didn't believe that her father would have wanted the company from outside of Mirkwood itself. But she would never question her own fathers judgement, he was much wiser than she and knew best for the people of Mirkwood. She could only hope that the guests would not anger her father in any way, in his full rage Thranduil even intimidated Gilrien, despite how much she loved her father. "Why did you not tell me sooner?" She asked, looking down her to brother who had decided that he would walk along with the others rather than ride alongside his sisters. She was not too surprised about this however. It was something he had done before. "Surely there was time on the road when you could have informed us." 'Us' referred to herself and her elder sister who was also involved in the conversation. She knew the name Faylon, she had heard Legolas speak of her a number of times, Gilrien had first heard of the Elf she had though Legolas may be interested in other ways. However as time went on he did not seem as interested, he never did in those matters. Then again he was younger than she was and she was still yet to settle with somebody. Alassae. Of course, she had forgotten about all of the people that would be at this event. More interested in the activities themself and even the idea of a new horse to add to her collection back home. Gilrien was a little surprised when the group of men came to introduce themself to the Mirkwood Elves. She decided that it would be best for Legolas or Aroreth to reply. They where perhaps a little more knowledgeable than she, instead she gave a gentle, acknowledging nod of her head to make sure that she did not seem rude or look as though she where ignoring them.

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Legolas could not help but grin at his sisters’ reactions to his mention of Falyon; he had lived with them nearly his whole life, long enough to know what thoughts would be racing through their heads. His sisters were, perhaps not fascinated, but at the very least interested in his love-life. They were his older sisters after all and it was their duty to take care of him and to save him from heartbreak so it was only natural that they would take note of any elleth he showed affection towards. Legolas had a suspicion that, whilst he had kept quiet about the whole affair, what had happened between himself and Tauriel had made them even more protective and, if not that, even more interested. Not that they had anything to worry about or be interested in, which Legolas hastened to reassure them despite neither of them having voiced anything.

“And I am sure Falyon is looking forward to meeting you too, my dear sisters. My friend has heard so much about you both. And yes, I say ‘my friend’ for she is nothing more than that; a very dear friend. I see no future in romance for me and I am quite happy that way. Elleths hold no interest for me nor, I suppose I should add given the rumours about our honoured guest, do ellons.”

He aimed that last part towards the back of their band, towards Gwindir (who seemed to be talking to one of his fellow guards… Edlothia, his brain supplied. They seemed to be talking about going to the pavilions if the words drifting back up the line towards Legolas were anything to go by). Gwindir, once he had heard about those very same rumours, took any opportunity he could to tease Legolas by saying that he might be the same. Legolas, in turn, took every opportunity to deny it.
“
Indeed I am as fond of Falyon as I am of Alassea and I feel quite stupid for having forgotten that she too would be coming to the tourney.” He laughed as he spoke. “Perhaps it is because I have seen Alassea only recently whereas I have not seen Falyon for quite some time.” Legolas decided that he had spoken enough on the subject of his love life and decided to address the question that Gilrien had asked. “And I did not tell you, my dear sisters, that we would be meeting Glorfindel here because I wanted it to be surprise! After all, it is not every day that you have a chance to meet someone about whom legends were written.”

He would have said more had it not be for a distraction in the form of seeing a few men break away from the group ahead of them and heading towards them. He’d forgotten how… how social Men were. It had only been a few months since he had lived amongst them but it was easy to forget that Men were quite happy to make unnecessary conversation with strangers especially when, at one point, he had come to accept it as the norm.

“Mae l’ovannen, Gimilzor o Emyn Celeyorn. Im Legolas Thranduilion o Taur-e-Ndaedelos‏.” Legolas decided to dispense with Sindarin after returning the greeting, there was no need to test the limits of the man’s understand of the language and he wished to avoid an awkward situation. “And these are my sisters, the Lady Aroreth and the Lady Gilrien.”

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Translation: Well met, Gimilzor of Silverhill. I am Legolas of Mirkwood, son of Thranduil.

Aroreth smiled knowingly down at her brother. He may not be all that intuitive, but he surely did know when his sister were thinking about his welfare, at least indirectly about his love-life. He knew all of his sisters would only get involved if there was serious reason.

And chuckled inwardly at the mention of him interested in Ellons. That was a silly rumor game that his good friend Gwindir played with him. But it always gave her pause at the mention of two Ellons together in intimate ways. She was not one to oppose any such relations, but it always gave her pause. The same went with two Elleths together. And she guessed part of that pause was in worry about whether her daughter would find relations with another Elleth.

She also agreed that it was a nice surprize that Legolas kept from them. It would be very good to see Glorfindel again. It had been such a long time since they, she, had seen the legendary Elf. Outside of the family, he seemed to be the only one to truly get her to openly laugh and show her emotions.

"Yes, it shall-" Aroreth began to say before her horse started figeting in place. She hushed it again, before lifting her face to find a small group of Mortals in front of them. She slowly tossed her long, wavy mahogany hair over her shoulder to see before nodding at the men in front of them when Legolas said her name. Her half-lidded eyes shifted from the supposed leader, to his companions, then back to the man who introduce himself. "Good morrow to you all. I hope you all have journeyed well," she said gently, her voice lithing and slightly inticing. It was a wondering thing what her voice did. She was not trying to be seductive, for the look of the company of Mortals before her did not seem all to happy to be greeting a party of Elves. And she was not about to let the nobility part of her rear it's ugly head and be truly offended by their very small lack of polite and respectfulness towards themselves as Elves in general.

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Legolas Gilrien Aroreth

NOTES

Pip could not help but notice that the Elves seemed a little socially awkward when they were talking to him and it was something that his friends were quick to pick up on as well. Legolas was the only one that showed any signs of wanting to hold a conversation with them- leading Pip to the conclusion that Legolas was Mirkwood's representative in his father's absence, the diplomat that was charged with most of the talking.

Though Pip hardly thought it was necessary for them to use a mouthpiece for a friendly conversation.

"It's a pleasure to meet you all, I have often wished to visit the great Woodland realms of Mirkwood and Lothlórien. I have heard that your halls are reminiscent of Menegroth, so I can imagine they are as beautiful as the tales say they are. My ancestors were in fact of Silvan descent and I have always wanted to visit their homeland." Pip smiled at the group, he was careful to avoid the name Mirkwood in case it upset the Elves. He had heard that their homeland could do with a good dusting and fell quite short of the other Elven kingdoms, and out of the largely Sindarin populationhe felt it was somewhat inferior to Lothlorien- from whence Mithrellas had travelled from.

"It's quite the tourney though, isn't it? Must be awfully different from anything you have in the Woodlands." Pip said as he looked over the vast area taken up by the stands, arenas and pavilions. The landscape very bare in comparison to the old forests bordering the Misty Mountains. But with the limited texts on the realm of Mirkwood, Pip decided he ought to change the topic before they caught him out on his knowledge of their homeland.

"I saw your name in the racing trials, I hope you prove to be worthy competition. If you've never been to the home of the horse-lords I have to say they put up the fiercest competition in horse-racing and are nigh unbeatable. This girl here's a Rohirrim mare, so hopefully she'll be able to keep up with the rest of them" He addressed Gilrien, flashing a smile in her direction. He could go on and on and on about horses if he was given the opportunity, but what interested him more right now was the very, very distinct appearances and styling choices of the three siblings. Gilrien was quite the fair maiden with silky, silvery hair that most of the royal line seemed to bear (except the eldest) and she possessed that grace that was innate to Elves (and Pip of course). Though he wasn't going to lie, but he really had no clue what she was wearing and he wasn't even sure it was appropriate. He had always pictured Elves as rather pure creatures that wore full-length and modest clothing. This was certainly... different? Honestly though, in comparison to his decorative armour it wasn't much.. And he doubted that his armour would even be the most decorative one they would see at the tourney.

Style-wise Legolas seemed the most practical of the three- if not a little boring. And his hair, like his clothing was also simple and a little dull. Aroreth seemed dressed most appropriately for their arrival with a couple of shiny things here and there (not nearly enough though to stand out) but in comparison to the others, she appeared older and more mature. Pip guessed that what she had in terms of taste in clothing was likely lost in terms of how interesting she was... 

But he tried to keep an open mind, after all making acquaintances with the heirs of Thranduil would be fairly impressive.. might even earn him a 'well done' from their father.

"I don't suppose either of you two would be entering in any of the contests? I've heard that the Silvan Elves are bloody good shots with a bow and arrow." Pip turned to Legolas and Aroreth, taking his mind off style. Behind the trio, it was easy to observe that many of the Elves within the group wore quivers and bows and so he presumed quite quickly that they were indeed very fond of archery.

made by EDEN

Quiet as the Snow.

Gilríen Rohilrien Outfit: Same Hair: Same Word Count: ### Tags: Pityanarwë Legolas Aroreth.

Gilrien was a little unnerved by the humans, perhaps more the amount of men they had run into all at once, she had seen on or two before, lost on the road through Mirkwood, but never this many in formation before. Then again, she had been prepared for it, Rohan was populated mostly by men. It was still quite bizarre all the same and she couldn't help but be a little taken back by it. It did however, make her think how sheltered her life had been so far, perhaps this would be better for her than she realised, it would give her a lot more insight into the lives of those outside of Mirkwood, even if it had no effect to her, unless she ever left. Even though she didn't have a reason for leaving her father's halls, she was safest there and she was with her family. She tried her best to keep home from her thoughts, it only made her think of being back there, besides, she had wanted to come here with her brother and sister, even if she didn't like it, it wouldn't be too long until she returned home to her well known halls of Mirkwood and her kin who she loved and cherished like family. She listened to what the man had to say, she had of course put herself forward for the horse racing, if there was one thing this elf could do, it was ride horses to the best of their ability, as well as hers. If his voice had been any different in tone, she'd suggest his speech was a taunt, she smiled softly before replying "It's true that even I have heard of the skill of Rohan's horses and riders, however they have not had the two thousand years of experience such as myself and my kin." If there was a slight backhanded insult in that sentence, Gilrien's perfected calm tone hid it well.

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Legolas watched contentedly as his sisters returned Gimilzor’s greetings, unless something went very wrong then there was no reason for him to interrupt the natural order of things. Instead he took the time to take in the other Men who made up Gimilzor’s entourage. For Men they were all well dressed, as befitting of the companions of who Legolas assumed was a lesser noble, but none of them were quite as extravagantly dressed a Gimilzor, whose outfit was perhaps a little too gaudy for Legolas’ tastes. If Leoglas had had any doubts as to who was in charge of the little band of men the distinct difference in dress would have been a clear indicator.

His brief assessment of the Men finished with, Legolas turned his attention back to the conversation at hand. Gimilzor was talking about the tourney. Seeing that no one else was making a move to answer the lordling’s question Legolas, despite knowing very little about tourneys and having no idea how to distinguish a good one from a bad one. It seemed like it would be a pleasant experience, although nothing like the feasts and celebrations held in his father’s halls, but who was he to say so? He feared that by opening his mouth he might show his inexperience and ignorance in front of someone who seemed to know a fair deal about his home.

Luckliy he was saved from having to do anything as Gimilzor changed the topic himself. Conversation continued to flow between between Gilrien and Gimilzor, both seeming to have a shared interest in horses. The knowledge that, at some point, the two would be competing against each other promised to provide some entertainment as Gilrien’s competitive streak was always a joy to experience, especially when it was aimed at others. He did hope though that there would be no negative side-effects to the competition, especially when Gimilzor was likeable, for one of the race of Men.

He was as polite as men could ever hope to be unless raised by elves although there was a hint of charm behind everything he said; he showed signs of intelligence above the average level exhibited by Men; and, above all, he was friendly, happy to talk to the company of elves and eager to make their acquaintance.

Legolas quite liked him.

Finally he was pulled from his thoughts as the conversation finally turned towards something that Legolas knew and loved.

“You heard correctly, Gimilzor, we are indeed famed for our skills with a bow. Although, I have to admit, I hope that our abilities surpass merely ‘good’. I like to think that they are and I hope I am not deluded in thinking as such.” He laughed, hoping the Man would understand his joke rather than take it for the boast of an ellon slightly too big for his britches. “But whether or not we are merely ‘good’ or not has little importance at the moment, myself and a few of our guards will be taking part in the archery contest and, what with everyone having to use long bows, I have a feeling even the best archer will be greatly challenged.” The thought of being able to shoot with a long bow, a bow he had hardly ever laid hands on, brought a smile to his face. “And what of you? Will you be joining us?”

Ettelëamë did her best to keep up with the others ,following behind the elves in front of her. She looked around with such awe and amazed, she had barely left mirkwood,she had never even been to a tourney before, and for this to be the first one was like a fairy tale. A sparkle went off in her big brown eyes and she tried to take in everything. Suddenly the others stopped and began talking, which Ettelëamë took as a chance to look around. She gave a nod before setting off,first it was a small step, barely out of line as she glanced around. She then moved more out of line until she was out of formation. Ettelëamë glanced around before casually walking to a nearby stand. She smiled as the store keeper stared at her in disbelief, seeing such a diverse looking elf. The Elleth chuckled before skipping off to see the horses, she would return to the others when the conversation was over.

She would be easily spotted if needed, with her pale sun kissed skin, autumn colored clothes, and short brown hair cut into a bob.