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

[parkourprince]

Realm as known to the folk of Thedas, indeed, but it was all a touch more complicated than that. All the same, Legolas didn't think it was the right place or time to get into the matters. The history of elves on Arda was long, and not the most pleasant either, and most certainly not a subject for the very fist conversation with someone.

"We both call Arda our home, indeed, and my father as well," he said with the ever present smile, not glancing away to seek for Thranduil among the crowd. He knew where he would find him, and without doubt if this elf recognised him — after a fashion — then he would know who he was talking about just as well. Here or anywhere, Thranduil made for a striking figure, easy to pick out.

"Had I known the Lady Galadriel had spoken of the ability of my kin, I would have entered the contest myself to prove it to all," if there was one thing in all the world he knew he could count on — besides Thranduil — it was his own skill with the bow and arrow; his shots always flew true, his aim never faltered, and so Legolas spoke with easy pride and certainty. "Alas, we had thought it to be terribly unfair to offer a game where the end result were to be set from the very beginning."

[samahl]

The boast might have annoyed someone else, but for Cyril it just came off as exceptionally charming. "Oh? I like a man who understands his own talents," he said, flirting a bit before he could stop himself.

He also didn't seek out Thranduil when Legolas spoke of him. His attention was so focused on Legolas himself. He let himself enjoy those cheek bones, for one.

"As for myself, I've been focusing a bit more on building traps and other devices. You don't happen to have any tips do you?"