To Tame A Fire

1. Novices

"Captain Legolas," a guard approached the Prince's desk. "It is time to test and assigned which novices are ready for tomorrow's patrol."

Legolas glanced up from a stack of papers and nodded. "Aye. I have seen promise in many, some, not so much." He stood up and made his way outside of the practice fields. Once there, he took in his surroundings.

Elves, both male and female littered the grounds. In their hand's numerous weapons: bows, short swords, long swords, daggers. All novices training to join the King's military and patrols. The sun pounded down on them, and a few males had stripped down to their breeches; the heat evident by the sweat on their backs.

"Attention!" said Legolas, loud and strong, and the novices scrambled to form a line before their Prince. Though Legolas was the youngest captain in Thranduil's military, he was highly respected and feared. "This is the day of patrol promotion. To be a warrior is to give your life to your kingdom, your King, your people," his blue eyes sharpened as his gaze bore into the eyes of the novices. "There are no half-hearted attempts; this is life and death. You will prove yourselves to me this day, with your skills, your attitudes-" his piercing gaze focused on a rather proud Noldorin elleth that seemed too arrogant for her own good.

Their eyes locked, and the female held his gaze with a gleam of challenge in her emerald eyes.

Legolas' eyes seemed to examine her very soul, and he smirked when she finally lowered her eyes. He would keep an eye on this one, or maybe two. "-All warriors will answer to their authorities and are expected to comply with orders. Am I understood?"

"Aye!" A mighty shout resounded throughout the training grounds from the novices.

Legolas turned to his lieutenant and nodded. "Let the games begin."

The training grounds were alive with the accident sound of metal against metal, and the thwacking of arrows as they pierced their targets. Legolas and many other captains and lieutenants watched closely from the sidelines, analyzing ever move the novices made. Their stance, their skills with weapons, and the way they interacted with their fellow companions. A captain pointed out a young novice named Thalin, praising his unfailing bullseye, and Legolas' eyes followed. "Yes, he looks promising. He holds himself well."

Legolas turned his eyes to the elleth that he encountered during the briefing. His eyebrow lifted when he noted how terribly wrong her stance was. It was when her arrow flopped to the ground that Legolas made his way over to her.

The elleth paid no mind and bent down to retrieve her arrow. She notched her bow and clenched her jaw as she drew back the arrow.

Flop.

It embedded itself into the ground just inches from the target.

Legolas was almost surprised when she huffed and carelessly dropped her weapon. "Pick it up," he commanded, his voice even and firm.

She complied, but not without attitude.

"Your stance is incorrect. Straighten your back," Legolas tapped her back and nodded when she immediately straightened. "Good. Widen your stance. Relax. Now release."

Her arrow flew true, hitting the far right side of the target. Not good, but better.

"Better. What is your name?"

She stormed over to the target and yanked it free, nearly cracking it in the process. "Rhavaniel," she said curtly, flicking her raven hair over her shoulder.

Legolas inclined his head and walked away. It seemed she didn't welcome the thought of assistance or authority. She had much to learn before she could join the King's military.

The rest of the morning consumed with sword training and endurance tests. Legolas noted that Rhaveniel was fairly good with short swords, but her attitude towards authority was unchanged. He watched as the captains pushed them hard, testing their emotions and strengths. Manyfailed and lashed out in anger, receiving a lengthy lecture from their commanders.

"Attention!" shouted Legolas and once again they stood in a long line. "You may rest now while I decide your roles by your performances today."

The novices groaned and many threw themselves to the ground in exertion. Unlike the others, Rhaveniel seemed infected as she casually ran her whetstone over her blade. She eyed every move the captains made as they spoke amongst themselves in hushed voices. She was sure she would be chosen to serve in the patrols. Too sure.

Legolas turned and caught her eye. He studied her, not caring that she watched him. Her black leggings hugged her long legs, and her shirt too was rather tight. His eyes momentarily dropped to her cleavage. Her skin was slightly pale, and her face screwed into a scowl. He turned away and focused his attention on the commanders. She really would be beautiful if she didn't scowl so much, he thought.

Rhaveniel smirked. Maybe this would be easier than she thought.

Legolas called them to attention yet again. The novices tried but failed to hide their growing excitement. The commanders called out the names of the novices that would join the patrols, and Legolas nodded in approval. One looked to Rhaveniel with a cautious eye and glanced at Legolas who in turn, shook his head. He didn't need to look at her to see the anger that crossed her face; he could feel her eyes boring holes into him.

"The rest of the day is yours," said Legolas. "Tomorrow we hunt orc!"

Excitement and determination radiated from the selected novices as they filed out of the training fields. The others looked on with jealousy but not defeat. There will be more chances to prove themselves. One didn't seem to realize that as she glared daggers into the Prince's back. She only wished her eyes were daggers at that moment. She shot him one last glare before storming out of the fields.

Legolas glanced at Rhavaniel's retreating form. What a fiery temper she has, he thought.  She would make an excellent warrior in due time. Legolas smiled. Yes, yes she would.

Word count: 1,036

Rhavaniel: wild

Elleth: she-elf