In the summer, I remember

[rowancrowned]

WHO: Thranduil, Legolas, anyone good with a bow or who enjoys the wine on offer.
WHAT: ROOTY TOOTY POINT N SHOOTY ARCHERY CONTEST
WHEN: 8th of Bloomingtide, midmorning until sunset.
WHERE: Valley
NOTES: log for a friendly wager! 

The eighth of Bloomingtide began as a chilly morning; not quite cold enough to leave frost on the budding flowers and fresh-sprouted plants in the heights of Skyhold, but nearly, nearly.

By the time the sun was been in the sky for a few hours, most of the early-morning chill had burned off, leaving a day that promised to be nearly too-hot for those who would be stuck in full-plate and in direct sunlight. Thranduil wasn’t expecting any to come clanking down to his little fete, but had none the less secured a spot in the shade. Varric had apparently found him while he was still working on organizing—the target launchers are set neatly in line with everything else. Along the clay pigeon launchers were the standard, stock targets, blindfolds—and on a table off to the side was a few bottles of sweet wine beside loaves of brown bread and hard cheeses.

The contest did not pretend to be anything other than what it was; a chance to meet, and mingle, and possibly show off archery skills. The purses wrested next to the wine and cheese and Thranduil himself. He had found a chair to rest in while waiting for the contestants to arrive, dressed plainer than he had so far allowed himself to be seen. On his fingers, four rings glittered—but his confidence in Legolas was so absolute, he doubted he would lose even one before the days was out.

Comments

[the_effect_she_has]

Taking a step back, her grey eyes narrowed in thought.

"Just over six months ago. Yourself?"

[seesobserves]

"The same." And he's largely kept to himself, holed up in the Undercroft. It doesn't bother him that they haven't run across each other before — after all, the Inquisition's ranks are growing every day.

"Not as many fennecs up in Amaranthine, though." That was a joke, sort of. As well as a nod to her superior skill. All the things he'd ever had to shoot had been much bigger than a fennec.

[the_effect_she_has]

She arched both eyebrow together at that - and she hadn't seen him once? But to be fair, she had been doing a lot of training and wasn't likely to notice people outside of her particular range.

"No ... but very good deer hunting." One corner of her mouth lifted. "Rather fast, them." A nod of respect in kind - his accuracy was to be applauded.

[seesobserves]

"Faster than darkspawn, for the most part." Which he had more experience with. "But I prefer to shoot them from as far a distance as possible."

Anyone who didn't have a healthy fear of darkspawn, after all, was a fool.

[the_effect_she_has]

"No one wants to deal with darkspawn." Especially not her. "And ... most definitely does not want to deal with them up close."

She had already had her own personal fill of it for two life times.

[seesobserves]

"Heading for the Approach?" Not everyone was — but if she was, he would hope to see her there.

[the_effect_she_has]

She nods her head. "I'm part of the Inquisition - a scout - so ... I'll need to do some scouting."

She lifted an eyebrow. "You?"

[seesobserves]

He gave a curt nod of his own in response. "Excellent place to harvest deathroot." As well as other reagents.

"I'll see you there." With that, he stepped away, satisfied that he'd made a potentially valuable connection.