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Tweak says, "sweet boy"

Legolas (princegreenleaf) wrote in labyrinth_rpg,
@ 2009-03-08 15:05:00

Entry tags:

arrival, complete, day two, legolas greenleaf, robin of locksley

WHO: Legolas Greenleaf and Robin of Locksley
WHAT: The Mirkwood Prince arrives
WHEN: Day 2, mid-morning
WHERE: The center of the City of Illusions
WARNINGS: Maybe PG, but not even really that.
STATUS: Complete

Legolas was at least as easy going as the next elf. Probably moreso, to be honest. He was still very young in terms of his race, and as such, he tended not to be as serious about most things. However, even he had his limits. There was just only so much that anyone could reasonably be expected to take, and this was passing that line by a good distance. Unfortunately, his first reaction was to get rather angry about it.

He'd risen from his dreamlike reverie, the trancelike state that elves had instead of sleep, with nothing to alarm him throughout the night. Just like the first time, when he'd been taken from Middle Earth to Mirage, it had been done while he was slightly less aware of his surroundings. But as his eyes snapped back into focus, he saw something was very wrong. This was not the place he had been before, and that was all too apparent.

The prince had been reclining on a soft couch for the duration of his reverie, and he was still lying in a prone position. Luckily, he always kept his knives and bow close to hand as he rested. It just made sense, and luckily his weapons were still with him. In a second, the agile elf had sprung to his feet and was looking around, not quite frantically. He rubbed his eyes, but the scene before him stubbornly refused to change.

With the bow held with a grip that seemed deceptively loose, he looked around. It was somewhat similar to some of the human cities of Middle Earth, actually, though more during a festival time than during regular day to day life. Tents everywhere, and as his sharp eyes continued to scan, he saw some very, very odd little creatures sparring in the near distance. He frowned thoughtfully and watched them for awhile, before deciding he needn't interfere. If they were Orcs, he wasn't inclined to get in the way of them killing each other.

Really, he was more than a little annoyed, at this point. Mirage had been nice enough, but if it had changed again so rapidly, even inside his own room, he was irritated. Nothing should have been able to get into his room, his state of rest was much lighter than a human sleeping. So, what was going on? He didn't sense from the natural harmonies of the place that it was Middle Earth, or Mirage. It felt new, and more than a little strange.

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taylorwade
2009-03-11 07:16 pm UTC (link)

Robin wasn't thrilled to have an arrow pointed his direction. He was hoping to avoid an altercation, but he had released the first arrow. It was his fault. "Greetings. Sorry about that, I was startled." He quirked a half smile when the man said he was a fair archer. "Thank you." He bowed his head in acknowledgment of the compliment. But before he could think the arrow was being released from the other man's bow.

Without much thought, for Robin rarely had to focus on his craft these days, he pulled an arrow from his quiver, knocked it in the bow and loosed it on the incoming arrow. It sliced it cleanly in two and caused all three pieces to fall to the ground harmlessly. He glanced down at them and then back up at the Elf. "You're ah.. not bad yourself." Robin quirked another half smile and allowed his arm that held the bow to drop to his side.

He reached out a hand to grip the other man's arm in a shake. "I'm Robin of Locksley. Where did you learn to shoot like that?" Robin's skill came from years and years of self taught practice. If there was one thing about Robin, it was that he never did anything half assed. He either did it, or not, there was no in between. Usually, this singleminded determination ensured that he excelled in whatever he did. It was perhaps this same determination that allowed him to survive inside the Jewish prison that held him for six years.

Slinging his bow over his shoulder, Robin looked the tall man over. "By the looks of you, you've just arrived. Bad luck. And where have you come from, then?"

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princegreenleaf
2009-03-12 01:17 am UTC (link)

Legolas nodded in approval, a smile on his lips. He'd thought so. The man had exuded a sort of confidence in his weapon that made the elf think he would be able to do it. Shooting the arrow out of the air was no small task, and had taken him almost a century of life to perfect. He didn't know how a human could have done it in such a short time, but he was impressed.

When the man came over to take his arm in a warriors handclasp, Legolas returned the grip firmly, but not crushingly. "Well met, Robin of Locksley. I am Prince Legolas of Mirkwood. May the Valar smile on our meeting." He let the grip break and inclined his head to the other archer.

"I learned in my woodland home. Orcs and other foul things crept in the darkness, and the creatures of the Necromancer had to be fought. I did what I could." He raised an eyebrow. "I would ask you the same question, Lord Robin. How did you learn to shoot so well? You are not even past your first century of life." And, of course, he would never get there, but that was a fact Legolas often forgot.

As Robin put his bow away, Legolas followed suit. Some respect had been earned on both sides, he thought. Neither of them would attack again. He had honor, and he could tell Robin did, as well. "I am newly arrived, yes. I am from Middle Earth, originally, but more recently from a strange land called Mirage. Where am I now?"

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