Draco and Legolas

Strategy

It took some time, for him to calm himself, but once he did that familiar roar of sheeer determination filled him once more and his thoughts, finally clear from the impending terror of his situation allowed for him to be capable of thinking a bit more clearly. 

It was quite a feat, managing to clear his mind, but with that having successfully managed, Draco began to catalogue everything that he had seen of Legolas whilst the other fought, which was admittedly not much, and everything from the others. Mentally recalling all the various styles of fighting, Draco hummed, closing his eyes and allowing them to fill his minds'eye, thinking them over, and allowing them to play behind eye lids, as though he were watching a moving pictures in real time. He carefully analyzed each and every movement. Down to the slightest twitch, and calmed himself body thinking over them all. He would need to know them. Even that Dolt, Boromir's style of fighting would prove to be potentially helpful. 

Because of the fact that Draco had never really been assigned fighting lessons from his father, the older man seeing them as too muggle a thing to allow his son to partake in, Draco was forced to recall every instance that he had seen fighting. Both hand to hand and otherwise. He had but a few hours to do this, and since Draco was more apt in mental fighting, not physical fighting, he would need as much help as he could get, particularly since his opponent was bound to be an Elf. Elves, as Draco was aware, of this world were very light on their feet, and fast, swift with their movements and graceful. He had to be careful, and his lack of training certainly would do him no favors, the best that he could do is attempt to replay everything and familiar himself with it. 

Even certain wand movements proved useful. Draco as well aware that, particularly some darker curses, required quite a bit of movements which he could twist to his advantage, he would have to be careful not to allow the spell to be caste when he used the movements, but upon mixing different styles together, the wand movements which were cast would enable him to move whatever he was using in a similar movement. 

He then began stringing movements and motions together, his mind taking the opportunity he had alone to aid him in figuring a style of fighting that would aid his ability to fight the Elf that he was undoubtedly doomed to fight. It was not easy, and took most of the two hours that he had left to ready himself. When he finally managed to rip his eyes open, having studied everything he could mentally, and stretching his muscles outwards and warming them slightly, he hummed...his eyes fluttering open slowly as he did so. 

He sighed heavily. Though he may be as prepared as he can be for this inevitable downfall, he was still nervous. Shaking his head, Draco had to remember to keep his thoughts from dwelling. He was a Slytherin. While he was stuck in this situation, he would make sure that he got out of this situation, perhaps not having won the battle, but he would have gained some sort of respect, he was certain of that. First...he needed to ready himself. He had less than ten minutes before Prince Legolas was bound to come and aid him in his attempt to find the training grounds. The whole thought send a chill up his spine, which he ruthlessly ignored and prepared himself. 

He dressed himself rather casually, throwing on the clothes which Legolas had graciously provided him beforehand. He was rather grateful that they were green and brown. He liked the colours. He was forever grateful that they were not red. That would shatter his fashion sense. He knew that he looked good in red, but he just...could not help but associate the colour with Gryffindors, which he really could not stand all that much. He would prefer not to wear the colour ever, if at all possible. 

Luckily for him, it would seem that the Elvish people tended to lean more towards other colours such as earthy tones or blues and silvers. There was not much in between. Greens, browns, grays, silvers, and blues tended to make up most of their wardrobe from what he had seen. Anything but red, and he was glad. He already was dreading having to go to this mock battle spar thing, he was glad he would not have to do it in Gryffindorian colours. At least there was that. 

"Draco," Came the soft call, and a light knock. Draco closed his eyes, settling his turbulent emotions before opening the door, to see Legolas standing before it. "I assume that you are ready?" The other said softly. Draco nodded once. 

"As ready as I can be, my Prince." The other said just as quietly. Legolas smiled gently. 

"I am sure that you will do well, there is no need to worry. Father does not expect you to win, and you do not have to defeat the opponent, merely do well enough to surprise Father." The Prince said, as though trying to alleviate Draco's fears. 

Draco had to admit, it was rather relieving that he did not have to win the sparring match. He had already assumed so, but Legolas confirming it caused him a state of further relaxation. 

That did not mean that he would not try to win. Of course, he was a Slytherin, the desire to win was deep within his blood, it entwined itself within his very DNA. Now, he was not likely to be stupid about winning, and he was aware the stakes were high, and the likelihood that he would manage to actually win was rather low, but he would try it all the same. He would try and hopefully, if he was lucky, he would at the very least come close. 

So, he followed Legolas without complaint, and without another word spoken between them, simple silence. A silence that, unlike many, was not tense, and it was not awkward. It was rather calming. Managing to settle Draco in a way that he had not managed for a while.

So he prepared himself, determination and desire and ambition all warring within itself between him. He would do his best, and he would fight until he could no longer fight, and strive to win, even if it was not necessary.