The Wild Ones (Lord of the Rings - Legolas)

Cruel Mistress

Dusk, and four Silvan warriors made their way to the barracks. They looked considerably better now that they had all visited the Halls of Healing. They had even bathed and found aid with their clothes. All in all, they had cleaned up well, and so, with shining, braided hair they swaggered on, looking forward to a night of laughter and drinking and, other pleasurable things.

Halú smiled, for their journey to Imladris had been so hard, their reception even worse. He was tired and irritated, and he knew the others were too, but thanks to Milethiel, their Imladris experience was about to change, he was sure of it. The Valar knew they all deserved it, for even before their trip, life had been a succession of bloody patrols of late. Halú wondered then, if their king's missive was related – perhaps he sought aid and alliance. He huffed at the thought of it, for scant help they would receive from the Noldor, of that he was certain.

As the barracks came into sight, Halú's face dropped to his boots, for there were no maidens to be seen, rather ten tall Noldorin warriors, standing with their feet apart and their arms held straight at their sides.

Dorán groaned and Benár made a sound Halú thought sounded rather like a child sent to bed without his desert. Well who could blame them? It was, quite simply, disappointing.

"No moves, unless I am incapacitated, is that clear?" said Legolas with a warning, sounding almost as if they had found themselves in this situation on more than one occasion.

"Aye," they mumbled as they formed a line behind their captain, their slanted eyes boring into the warriors they approached.

"Galanor, what a charming surprise," drawled Legolas as they approached and stood but feet from the imposing wall of brawn. Halú smirked, for his captain was not only completely and utterly fearless, but he was also flawlessly scathing and ironic when the situation called for it.

"Taú," replied the lieutenant sourly, his lip curling as a twisted smile lent him an almost maniacal expression that sent Halú's eyebrows to the heavens. This Noldo was weird, he said to himself. Did he truly wish to cross Legolas? True he had no idea with whom he was dealing, and then a sadistic grin spread upon his face – well he would soon find out, the hard way, he rather suspected, and he cracked his knuckles in delighted anticipation.

Elhilor, who stood beside Galanor, was next to speak.

"My nose tells me you made it to the baths – go crying to Glorfindel, did you?"

"I seem to remember it was Glorfindel who caught you in the act of allowing your subordinate to insult guests of your Lord's realm. You, sat and ate your sausages as he mocked us. Yet you are his captain. Tell me, captain, does he bully you?"

Elhilor turned red and his face seemed to puff up, the veins in his neck sticking out. Halú wanted to laugh, for he had been reminded of a strange fish he had once seen in the Anduin. He resisted the smirk that threatened to blossom though, for he had his dangerous Silvan façade to keep up.

Galanor held a hand up, demanding silence, and then took a step forward until he was but inches from Tau's face.

"You, are Silvan, and you have no place here, in the lands of the Noldor. You are not to our liking and we respectfully request that you – disappear," he said with a snap of his fingers.

"You misunderstand, Noldo. We would be delighted to leave these lands, and we will, as soon as your Lord sees fit.

"It is you that misunderstand. You see your attitude at breakfast was – unacceptable, your words uncouth. We are here to ensure it does not happen again."