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The Protege II: Training Day	By : alpham31 Category: +Third Age > AU - Alternate Universe Views: 1723 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Lord of the Rings, nor do I earn any money - of course you knew this already!

Chapter List
- 1-Melven and the Short Swords
- 2-Legolas and the Long Knives
- 1
- 2
Summary: still at the spring festival in Imladris, the Protégé takes his turn on the training fields, with some rather interesting results. How will Legolas take to Melven’s ‘training’? And will Legolas finally reveal his secret?

Author’s note: please read The Protégé first, otherwise you will be hopelessly lost reading this story. Please enjoy.

1: MELVEN AND THE SHORT SWORDS

Melven awoke to the morning much in the same manner as any other citizen residing in Imladris. Just last night had been the grandiose opening ceremony to the Spring Festival, being hosted by Imladris. The alcohol he had ingested, although sitting well with him, had been rather abundant. His body felt relaxed but his mind took its time to clear itself of the hazy fog covering the surface of his thought processes.

Today, warriors from all the visiting realms would participate in the training sessions the Imladris warriors had set up. It would be a day of learning, of observing and exchanging techniques. Not that he had very much to learn. Oh he could still learn a few moves from Glorfindel, who could still beat him in the long and short sword, but he was good, he was very good, even the young Mirkwood prince had acquiesced to be taught by him today in the short swords.

It felt good, because it was good to be recognised once in a while. By teaching the royal warrior, all eyes would be on him, they would recognise his skill - they would respect him. He would show the prince all his more complicated moves, make him work, break a sweat and show his Mirkwood subjects that no one could beat an experienced noldorin warrior at blades.

With his objective firmly set in his mind, he slowly rose from his bed with an unusual bounce to his step, and ambled to the bathing chamber. Drawing himself a tepid bath, he relaxed back and resumed his musings.

It was not that he really had anything against the prince personally. The statement that he was the best warrior on Arda had not come from him personally, but from those loyal to him. And by the Gods he was truly beautiful, this he could not deny, and what he had seen of the prince’s body was nothing if not imposing. He was also well educated, at least as well as a Sindar or Sylvan could be, or whatever he was anyway. But he was the supreme representative of his father’s house during this festival, and therefore Melven’s efforts must be concentrated on him. Aye, today would bring glory to the warriors of Imladris, he, as a lieutenant of Imladris’ militia, would make sure of it.

Glorfindel was planning the day with his warriors at the barracks, trying to concentrate on his duties and not on the conversation he had had with Legolas not two hours passed in Celebrian’s dead gardens. Elrond, together with Erestor, was overseeing the logistic and political issues for the day, an unusual air of happiness about them both. Lindir was to be found again in the company of Amanthor, the Greenwood’s chief musician, from whom he had learned so much, and not only about sylvan music.

Galadriel sat on her open balcony, watching the activities as she sipped on her iced tea, pensive and withdrawn, as was her wont. Celeborn approached from behind, then, wrapping his arms around her breasts and squeezing.

“What has you so deep in reflexion, Artanis?”

“Things long past, and things yet to come, for this event is the catalyst, Celeborn, yet the reason escapes me. I just wish they would confide in me, for I am a part of what is to come.”

“I am sure they will. There are many days left to broach the subject. You will see I am right.” Come, let us walk down with the others and watch the day’s events. I rather fancy watching Melven get his ‘what for’.”

“Ah yes, poor Melven, yet mayhap you are wrong and it will be ‘poor prince’” smiled Galadriel, not really convinced of what she was proposing.”

“Let’s go and find out!” exclaimed Celeborn, as he took her arm and steered her towards the training grounds.

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The highlight of the day’s activities of course, would be the joint and individual training sessions. First, each group of warriors would run through their own training routine. Then, they would join the others and learn how they did theirs. There would then be demonstrations of various weapons, and those who wished to teach or be taught, would have the rest of the afternoon to do so. It was a day for warriors, for hard work but also for forging brotherhood in battle, for setting the foundations for joint elven forces they would surely be needing in the future, for one of the most important issues was sealing the Greenwood’s military alliance with Imladris and Lothlorien.

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“You have, of course, heard of Melven’s presumption of teaching Prince Legolas the art of the short swords” – commented Erestor slyly, peering over at Elladan and Elrohir.

“Indeed”, chuckled Elladan. “I am not sure I like it though. Should it become obvious he has nothing to teach the Prince, I am unsure as to his reaction.”

“His reaction will be adequate and appropriate, or I shall see to it myself that he is properly admonished” – warned Erestor.

Now this, Elladan recognised. Protection, defence. Had Erestor bedded Legolas? Well he didn’t know, but he would find out, they both would.

Legolas meanwhile, had changed for the morning’s activity. He had been without exercise for four days now, and that he could not afford. As the Greenwood’s general, he was required to be on top form at all times, for his life was strenuous.

A knock on the door revealed Galdithion, in the traditional home uniform of the Greenwood’s guard, which Legolas himself donned. The only difference between the warriors would be the forearm bands they all wore, for they were all of a different configuration, made of different materials which denoted both rank and level of skill. In everything else they were identical.

“Ready for action, general?” drawled Galdithion as he entered the room. He knew he could allow himself this luxury in private, but as soon as anyone else was present, his tone would change to the utmost of formalities.

“You know, after four days of slugging around, I feel like a ball of sugar cotton. I need a good workout Gal – shall we show them our worth?”

“Oh yes!” stated Galdithion, a feral glint in his grey eyes. “However, you are requested to join the lords for tea before the event begins. I will escort you, of course.”

“Tea? Oh well, this is a cultural exchange, I see the Noldor can drink tea at apparently the strangest of times. Come.”

As they walked down the corridor, Mithrandir fell in with the two warriors, bidding Legolas a good morning.

“And where was our Istar at breakfast? Wallowing in bed mayhap? What Erestor said was true then? There is nothing like a Maia for strenuous partying?”

“Hold your tongue you impudent bush scoundrel!”

Both Legolas and Galdithion chuckled, as Mithrandir’s expression broke into a joyful smile. Legolas was part of what was to come, and it would be a good part. He felt a great empathy for this child, and knew it was mutual.

As they walked, they passed various Greenwood citizens, who bowed to the warriors as they passed, which was answered by both with their right palm pressed over the heart.

Once inside the library, the small company sat, while Elrond poured the tea that sat in a pot, steam pouring from its spout, hand shaking almost imperceptively.

Mithrandir sat in his cosy armchair with a slight smile playing over his lips, for he was observing the covert perusal of his fellow protégé by the lords of Imladris and Gondolin. Legolas had the uncanny ability of looking spectacular whatever he wore, and this morning he was suitably attired for a master woodland warrior, somewhat after the avarin fashion, he thought, for they were somewhat frightening to behold, especially in battle, which was, of course, part of their tactics. He wore no breeches, but a knee-length leather wrap secured by a leather belt that also crossed his chest. Instead of a shirt, he wore a light-weight white tunic that was open to the waist, obviously designed to give some intimacy when not training, and to be discarded while he was. His hair had been pulled back into a simple braid that ran down to the small of his back, but that was now sitting over his shoulder. He was the vision of fey beauty and masculinity. How could he blame his friends for wanting to be close to this one? He smiled fondly.

Glorfindel found himself wondering if he wore any jewellery under the shirt, but he thought no more on it, he would fluster himself and Mithrandir would not be happy - he had obviously ‘adopted’ the prince, for some undisclosed reason. Legolas however, spared a momentary glance at Glorfindel and smiled.

It was Celeborn that broke the silence, directing his words to Legolas.

“Are you aware that there is a sizeable bet on you and Melven for the short-sword instruction he is to give you?” he said, smirking and very obviously enjoying himself.

“Oh aye, my lord, I heard of it yesterday from Henian, my captain. However my lords”, he exclaimed with a mischievous smile, “Melven I am sure will behave himself, and if he should not, then perhaps he will receive some instruction himself, however I cannot help but make conjectures as to his posture. He seems loathe to admit the possibility of learning anything, and especially from anyone who is not noldorin. I believe there is a story here, one that should be understood before judgement is passed.”

“For sure, my prince, but that would not excuse any untoward behaviour towards your person,” this from Erestor.

“Perhaps not, my friend, but let us wait to see how the morning unfolds, and enjoy it, for that is the objective, is it not?” asked the prince.

“Indeed it is Prince Legolas. Wise words indeed. Come, let us partake of tea, then get ourselves to the training grounds”, said Galadriel, taking a sip of tea and watching Legolas over the brim of her steaming cup.

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A while later, down on the training fields, Glorfindel’s captains were preparing three separate areas where the warriors from Imladris, Lorien and Greenwood would work though their own training sessions.

Cormion was intrigued, for the Greenwood had requested their four base drums to be taken to the field. What on Arda were they going to do with drums at a training session? He knew only what he had heard from others regarding military styles of the Greenwood. They were well-reputed, especially in archery, although Lorien would be giving them a good run for their money…

Haldir was excited, but he wouldn’t let that be showing in front of his warriors. The woodland prince was supposed to be the best archer in Middle Earth, this from his people of course. He wasn’t taking that for granted. The prince had certainly never been to Lorien before and neither had his people, so how could they possibly know? Then again he was also said to be the best warrior in Arda, and he hadn’t even been to Imladris until now. He had not crossed swords with his beloved twins, or indeed Glorfindel. He would have to set some things straight with these presumptuous wood elves, he personally would see to it on the archery range, and would take great delight watching his lovers trounce him with the long sword. Aye, a mighty interesting day it would be. Would he be a good loser?

Warriors were now spilling out of every possible door of the last homely house. Tall, short, thin, strong, fey and delicate-looking alike. But none stood out more than the 25 woodland warriors who were walking together, talking and laughing as they went, their prince amidst them.

Heads turned to the group. By the gods, even if they were not as good as the Lorien or Imladris troops, they would scare the living daylights out of any enemy, even when they were laughing. They were half-naked for Elbereth’s sake, thought Cormion. Leather skirts, bare legs, save for their knee-high boots, and leather strap crossed over the chest, long plaited hair, beautifully wrought vambraces, oh but they were beautiful, and he decided that he wanted one for himself, if his lady wife would consent, of course.

Glorfindel and Haldir greeted each other with a warrior’s clasp and exchanged news with each other for a few minutes while the wood elves positioned themselves inside their own training area. Beckoning Haldir to join him in saluting them, they both walked over to Legolas, who turned to greet them.

“Prince Legolas. May I introduce Haldir, Marchwarden of Lorien, and my good friend?”

“Haldir, ‘tis a pleasure to meet you. I have heard much of your prowess and courage on the field. I look forward to sparring with you this day”

“Likewise, Prince Legolas. I believe the archery range will be especially interesting”

At this, Haldir noted the feral gleam in the prince’s intense blue eyes. He liked what he saw and decided to give the prince a fair chance. He clasped the prince’s leather-wrapped forearms, receiving a warm smile from him.

Turning his attention to Glorfindel, Legolas inquired as to the order of events for the day’s activities.

“As hosts to this event, Imladris will start with their standard training session. About 30 minutes. Come join us.”

Legolas looked back to his troop and signalled for them to join him around the Imladris area.

Mixing easily with their kin from Lorien, albeit the latter were somewhat flustered at the exotic appearance of their peers, they stood around, avidly awaiting the commencement of the Noldorin display.

Glorfindel walked into the centre of the field and addressed the spectators.

“A fair morning to you all. Today we start with the standard training sessions from Imladris, Lorien and Greenwood. After all three parties have finished their display, there will be refreshments for the leaders and captains, where we may all discuss what we have seen, learned or wish to learn. After the midday meal, individual displays will be held, and then we shall take it from there.

Shall we begin then!!”

“Aye!!” They all chorused.

And with that, Glorfindel began barking his standard order for line-up and formation.

After their salute to their general, each warrior began their warm up exercises, stretching muscles and limbs. This went on for a few minutes until the call to the long sword was given. Again, each warrior made a series of swings and swirls, each in their own pattern and rhythm. They then paired off and spared in groups of two, then three. The short sword was then taken up, and the same pattern emerged. After a while, the warriors were called together to perform their battle stances, swishing their swords at but instances after their neighbours to create a wave of shining blades meant to cut down the first line of the enemy. It was an impressive sight that took the spectator back to the great battles of old. Finally, they performed their stretching exercises to avoid cramps, and were finished.

Applause was given from the crowd of warriors and civilians, who had joined in the festivities.

Lorien was next, and all moved over to their field. The warriors began by sitting cross-legged on the ground, and absolute silence reined for a few minutes, as the warriors seemed to be meditating almost.

Moving to their feet, they extracted their long swords and moved through the stances together, rather than individually, as the Imladris warriors had done. In fact most of what the Lorien warriors did was together, orchestrated, although the exercises themselves were very similar to those performed by the Imladris troop.

Glorfindel had been to Lorien often and was familiar with their training strategies, and had even incorporated some of them into his own strategies, just as Haldir had done in Lorien, for Glorfindel and Haldir were close friends, and had once been more.

Again, applause erupted from the crowds. Now for the Greenwood.

The third migration took place over to the Greenwood area, where four large drums were present at the far end, each with an elf holding two large wooden sticks with wound leather at the ends.

The scantily clad warriors formed a perfect line in front of the drums, facing their leader, Legolas, who was now standing in front of his warriors, looking at each of them intensely.

There was absolute silence from the now considerable amount of people looking on, Mithrandir and Elrond off to one side, moving to join Glorfindel and Haldir.

Suddenly, the warriors moved their arms out to the side and upwards, tilting their heads back towards the sun and maintained this posture for a few minutes. Haldir realised that they also started their training sessions with a form of meditation, just as he did. He liked that, it was something he had told Glorfindel was very beneficial, but he had yet to take Haldir at his word and try it.

Moving their hands back to their sides, one loud drum beat could be heard, then another, then another. They struck up a slow beat that reverberated through the chests of those looking on. There was something magical about the mixture of the warriors’ solemnity, their physical appearance and the primal rhythm being set by the drums. They were entranced, spellbound almost. And indeed, this was, perhaps, the purpose…

And then, a loud commanding voice broke through the silence, a voice that seemed antagonistic to the elf they had only just started to know. It was almost as if this was a another person.

“Equilibrium”

They punched their arms out to the front, then pulled one arm back. All perfectly aligned and coordinated, putting a fearsome amount of strength into the move.

“Concentration”

They repeated the move in the opposite direction

“Focus”

They moved their feet out to the side, arms down and to the front.

“Strength”

They turned their backs to the public, kicking out with one leg and punching the air with the other

“Coordination”

Turning back to the public, they repeated the move.

Now the drums had picked up their rhythm and Legolas joined the line of warriors, repeating the moves from the beginning, shouting out the key words that went with them.

“Equilibrium
Concentration
Focus
Strength
Coordination”

Strong but flexibly bodies moved through the sequence, powerful muscles flexed and relaxed as leather skirts swirled to the graceful movements of their owners. Haldir chanced a quick glance at those beside him. ‘It wasn’t that hot a day, was it? More than one elf had broken a sweat, yet they had moved not an inch.

They repeated the sequence thrice, before the drums fell silent and the warriors stood in their line, moving out to the sides for manoeuvrability. There was still no noise from the avid crowd, so awestruck they were. Haldir was staring at Legolas, mouth slightly agape, Glorfindel was also staring at him, but with something akin to great emotion on his striking features. Mithrandir however watched it all with a look of utter pride and love upon his weathered features. Elrond for his part trained his face, but the turmoil of emotions under the surface was making his heart pound viciously.

The warriors then doubled back over themselves and performed a backwards headstand, which they all maintained without the slightest sway or movement in their inverted, vertical positions, their leather skirts falling down but not quite revealing the leather loin wraps underneath, for the skirts were tight across the hips. After maintaining the posture for some minutes, they back flipped back onto their feet and adopted a ready stance.

Suddenly, the formation was broken and they moved off into groups of four or five, each moving a little outwards to give each team more space. Each team began to perform what could only be described as gymnastics. They flip-flopped, somersaulted, vaulted over each other, swirled and twisted, cart wheeled…This continued for some time, until the call to swords was given. Remaining in their teams, they began to spar with the long sword. With extended, swirling movements, they circled, ducked and parried, but never once did the blades clash.

Silence reigned no more, for the crowd had begun to gasp and cry out after some of the more complicated moves.

After some time, they reformed the line and performed what could only be described as a war chant. They banged their forearm vambraces together to make a clanking sound as they chanted in what could only have been ancient Sylvan, for no one could understand what they were saying, the meaning however, came across as clear as day. They were intimidating words to deter the enemy. They stomped their feet and made menacing movements with their arms, all in perfect harmony, the words almost shouted, for they were heartfelt. Each of the warriors thought of those gone before, and the controlled hatred petered through, it was palpable. The lords of Imladris and Lothlorien were impressed suddenly with dread, for this is what they provoked, their hair stood painfully on end as the warriors ended their chant with a mighty “ha!”, their final movement a punch forward, faces stern and forbidding.

Silence reigned then, except for the harsh breathing of the onlookers. Henian gave the order to break the line, which they did, bowing low to their audience.

At first, timid clapping was heard, but which slowly grew into a fully-fledged applause from the stunned crowd.

Legolas walked towards the lords, bowing as he approached.

“Well, that was … different, Prince Legolas”, said Haldir, still not sure how to describe what he had seen.

“Aye, that is one way of putting it, Haldir, what say you general,” asked Elrond.

Glorfindel turned his gaze to that of Legolas and said one simple word.

“Gondolin”

Legolas smiled. “In no small measure yes, together with many elements native to the Sylvan”.

..................................................................................................

Legolas’ troops were now mingling with those of Imladris and Lorien, striking up conversation, for they would resume activities after the midday meal, due in around two hours. Meanwhile as it had been decided, the captains and lords would share refreshment together and discuss what they had seen.

Once inside Elrond’s private gardens, they gathered around a stone table, laden with juice and other refreshments.

Legolas had taken the precaution of sitting as far away as possible from the sentinels. Mithrandir was sitting to his right, and directed an unspoken question to the prince. Being so tuned with nature, he was surprised at Legolas’ move away from the trees. The slight cock of the head told Mithrandir that it was not a good time to talk.

“Well,” began Elrond. “Where to begin?, for we have seen many interesting things this morning.”

Haldir, never shy, began to put into words what he saw as the highlights of the morning.

“Well, I would start by saying that I am impressed with everything that I have seen. I was especially surprised to see many similarities between us of Lothlorien and you of the Greenwood, Prince Legolas. You prepare your minds before your bodies, I have always told Glorfindel that this is something I find lacking in the training of the Imladris troops.” With this, Haldir looked over to Glorfindel to allow him a come back.

“Yes my friend, you have told me many times. The fact is that I cannot deny you are probably right, however, if you take into consideration the mindset of the Noldorin of Imladris, it would be a difficult task to impose it upon them. They would not be amenable to the idea.”

“Now, Prince Legolas, tell us why your troops do almost everything in formation, together, rather than fortifying the individual skills of your warriors.” inquired Glorfindel. He had an inkling of why they did it, but the truth was he wanted to put the prince’s battle acumen to the test.

“The importance of team work and group coordination is fundamental to warfare in the Greenwood. We rely on tactic to outwit the enemy, falling back on individual talent when the tactic has run its course. It is therefore vital for us to work together in absolute discipline, the following of orders, the coordination of attack must be perfect, lest we perish in the trees. There is also the fact that training in a coordinated fashion boosts brotherhood and camaraderie. They feel fortified, more daring, more courageous if they work side by side, rather than each to his own. I have found this aspect possibly one of the most important, and effective, indeed to an extent, it is a part of my Gondolin heritage, as no doubt you realized, Lord Glorfindel.”

Glorfindel merely held the prince’s gaze with one of equal intensity. Of course he had realized and it had sent a stab to his heart. Gondolidrim culture was very different to that of Imladris and Glorfindel knew he could not employ those tactics with them. Not that they were bad warriors for they certainly were not, they were counted as the best swordsmen, but they were more – phlegmatic, more inhibited, less given to showing their emotions.

“And then”, joined Elrond. There was very little one to one combat, and even the little there was, there was no contact. Why is this prince?”

Legolas came back with a question of his own. “How long do your training sessions last, lord Elrond, or should I ask lord Glorfindel.?”

“Aye, I would know more of that than lord Elrond. Our typical training session would be two hours, starting as you have just seen, then moving from sword to short sword, knife work, hand to hand and archery.”

“You see the reason you saw very little weapon training is because our training sessions last the whole morning when not on patrol. After the first hour of mental and physical preparation, we move on to short swords first, then archery, then long swords, and finally hand to hand.”

“Four hours!” exclaimed Haldir. “On my word how are your warriors fit to guard and patrol after so gruelling a morning?”

“Haldir, through necessity we must possess such stamina. The fight against darkness in the Greenwood is a daily event for us. We must be strong and durable. What I have seen today greatly impressed me but I shall tell you why exactly. Each realm trains its warriors based on what they will come across in battle, and thus it should be. ‘Tis not a matter perhaps of what is best, or what can be taken from other realms, rather it is a matter of realising what will truly benefit in the circumstances in which we will find ourselves. We meditate because to face the darkness every day, to battle orcs, uruks and spiders, to comfort wounded or dying friends in the midst of butchery, requires a strong mindset, which with time can be withered down to a thread. By introducing meditation on a daily basis, we help to combat the wearing down of the soul.”

Elrond merely nodded his approval, while Haldir and Glorfindel looked towards the prince, each with an earnest smile.

“You have gained my respect this day Prince Legolas. I would welcome you and your troop in battle with me and mine.” said Haldir, reaching over and clasping Legolas’ forearms with his hands. “Not withstanding, there is the demonstration of individual skills later this day, and I WILL see you on the archery field...”

At this, Legolas laughed heartily. “It will be an honour, Marchwarden, I look forward to it”.

Glorfindel for his part, said nothing but thought much. He has passed the test - he was a worthy general of his father’s army, and a very valuable ally indeed. He was left with the sensation that he had been so very lucky to have been allowed so close to this extraordinary being.
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The Protege II: Training Day