The Field Narrows

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Across the field stood a collection of targets, each marked with concentric circles in blue, green, yellow, and red for the bull's eye.

"Ready?" called an elf who was to judge the contest. The warriors lined up, bows drawn, strings taut.

"Aim..." Legolas steadied his bow, eyes focusing on the target afar.

"Fire!" A fleet of arrows chased the field. Not had so many arrows been loosed since the siege of Dol Guldur.

The spectators leaned forward in the stands, straining to see which elves had struck the bulls' eyes.

"For the first round," the announcer called, and the crowd hushed, "perfect marks for Captain Haldir, Lady Helifeth, Celefier, First Marshal Eledhel, Belegil, Sulindal, Farothin, ..." the announcer paused, "Prince Legolas, Lady Limaer, and Lady Miredhel."

Farothin nudged Legolas with his elbow. "They announced you with the ladies, Legolas. That should tell you something."

The prince elbowed him back and replied, "Yes, it tells me that they announced us in the order of our line-up."

Farothin looked down the line. "Sure...you can think that if it makes you feel better," he retorted.

Legolas glimpsed Miredhel on the other side of Lady Limaer. She had been smiling at the results of the first round, but when she noticed his gaze, she quickly frowned and began inspecting the shaft of her blue-feathered arrow.

"Round two, elves take aim!" Miredhel glanced at Legolas. His eyes gleamed with a determination and fierceness. She brushed a loose curl from in front of her eyes and readied her arrow.

"Fire!" Legolas watched the flight of his arrow until it struck red on the target. Perfect mark, again. He turned his head toward where Eledhel and Haldir stood together. They were both looking fairly smug as well.

"Round two, perfect marks for Captain Haldir, Lady Helifeth, Celefier, Eledhel, Belegil, Sulindal, Farothin, Prince Legolas, and Lady Miredhel," called the announcer.

Legolas turned to Lady Limaer whose arrow had hit the yellow ring, barely outside the bull's eye. "My lady," he addressed her, "your arrow seemed to find a mind of its own."

Lady Limaer flushed. She had not been able to believe her good fortune when the prince had taken his place next to her. He had danced with her once during the first night of his arrival. So charming, handsome, and princely, and now he was speaking to her. "If my arrow missed," she batted her long curly lashes over deep blue eyes, "it was only because it wanted to be closer to yours."

Legolas smiled at her. Behind Lady Limaer, he could see Miredhel roll her eyes in disgust. "Let us hope you do not miss this time, my lady. I would loathe for you to be eliminated," he said, loudly enough for Miredhel to hear.

"Final round, contestants. Ready?" The targets had been pushed to the very back of the field.

The bows curved with the pull of the arrows against strings. Every arm was poised to fire. Deadly pointed arrows glinted in the sun. The moment seemed made for silence. Even the Lord Celeborn found himself holding in his breath.

"Fire!" Arrows arced across the sky in a flash of many colored feathers, like a rare flock of birds racing in the wind.

"Can you see your target, Farothin?"

"No, Legolas. The judges are blocking it."

"They block mine as well." He shaded his eyes. "I can see Eledhel and Haldir's. Both hit dead center."

"Let us hope ours are the same."

The judges made their way back to the spectators' platforms. "For the first stage of the tournament, contestants with three perfect marks for all three rounds are: Captain Haldir, Lady Helifeth, Celefier, Eledhel, Belegil, Farothin, Prince Legolas, and Lady Miredhel!"

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