Standing at the doorway of Strider's home, Legolas took in a deep breath of the spring air. He was especially fond of this time of year.  Alfirin and Mallos blossoms had begun to carpet the forest floor in gold and white, and the branches of the beech and oak trees were adorned with delicate veils of emerald lace. It would have been a perfect time to join the other warriors of the Woodland Realm at the archery range. Instead here he was, among the Dúnedain, in the northern wilderness of Middle Earth. Furthermore, over two weeks ago, he had committed to training the young warriors on the mornings that they were not required for patrol. He was still undecided whether he had made the right decision.

He had begun the first day's training with some trepidation. There were five young Rangers in all, Rodorin, his friend Faolán, Kaelin, Halard and Wren. But Wren was clearly the most eager to learn, as she was already waiting for him in the clearing when he arrived. Initially he was unsure of how to conduct the first few lessons, so he decided the most sensible course of action was to establish the young Ranger's existing skills. In the first week, they practiced archery at various distances and angles. The skills displayed by all the young Rangers were undeniably impressive. Particularly Wren, she was accurate and quick; and only rarely missed a target even at significant distances.

Who taught you to shoot Wren?" he asked on the second day, knowing that this level of skill must have been acquired over the course of many years.

"My mother" she said with pride. "After her husband died, the only way she could make a living was through bow hunting and bartering with the other villages. She made me a small bow when I was four and taught me everything I know."

Legolas gave the Wren briefest of nods in return, acknowledging the expert tutelage of her mother, Nerwen.

The elf prince began actively instructing the young Rangers, adjusting their stances and angles to further improve their accuracy. Thereafter he started coaching them on their swordsmanship and their close combat skills, particularly the use of short swords or long knives. He has seen Wren previously fight with a single, large dagger, that she kept tucked in sheath on her lower back. But she had a long way to go, to gain proficiency with the much longer knives she had recently been gifted. The knives allowed for a far greater range of movement than the daggers, but also required far greater coordination, due to the bilateral movement that was entailed. He began to teach the young Rangers the wide, flowing motions rather than the short, sharp ones some of them were accustomed to. For hours, they practiced the repetitive movements, till they began to learn to move and follow the elf prince as if they were a single synchronized unit.

Elrohir and Elladan came to the clearing in the second week, to observe the young Rangers' training.

"Is this who you have abandoned us for, Wren? If you wanted to learn to dance, you should have just asked."

"Mirkwood elves are renowned for having the clumsiest feet. I am sure you would find that Rivendell elves are considerably more refined".

Legolas swallowed his pride and instead responded with a smile. "If your feet are so nimble, please come, muindyr nín. Demonstrate to us how it is done."

The twins gladly obliged. They were expert and deadly swordsmen in their own right, though their fighting styles were different to that of Legolas, since they used curved, elven, long swords. He decided to make use of them and together they broadened the scope of the young Rangers' skill set. The elves parried with the Rangers as they refined and honed their technique under Legolas's observation. Soon word began to spread through the village, about the elven training sessions that were being held in the clearing near the elm trees.

The first Legolas knew of it however, was when another two Rangers turned up unannounced, but keen to join in. The following day, Maevé arrived, one of the three female Rangers in the company, including Kaelin and Wren. Then another three Rangers joined them the following week. The older Rangers, were however, more inclined to do their chores or sit outside their cabins, and reminisce about their former training days.

Legolas was flattered by the increasing numbers, but a bit dismayed by the almost unmanageable size of the group. However it was hard not to enjoy the easy banter between all the young Rangers and the elven twins. Insults and the occasional word of admiration flew back and forth across the clearing.

"You fight like your grandmother!" Faolán yelled to Rodorin.

"Better that, than a drunk orc." Rodorin responded.

"Don't insult our grandmother, she'll happily take you on any time," said Wren.

"Elladan and I will carry their grandmother down here tomorrow, so she can teach you all a thing or two!" Chimed in Elrohir.

"I am not sure there is anyone who can teach you sorry lot, "Legolas said, "Could you all refocus on the task at hand ...Yet again."

The weeks passed quickly and his friendship with Rangers grew, as they trained and fought together. Occasionally, even Strider himself, turned up to watch or participate. Legolas found himself looking forward to the next lesson, and disappointed when it was postponed due to patrols or some other required activity. The lessons had given him new purpose. Legolas contemplated that perhaps this had been the intention of Strider from the outset.

Numbers dropped off significantly when the weather was foul or there was some sort of celebration the previous night, but Wren was the most regular attendee. She was there early and often late to leave. Much as he enjoyed the camaraderie of the bigger group, Legolas found himself enjoying his occasional, extended training sessions with Wren. The elf prince realized that their shared pain, had led him to a place where he was completely relaxed in her presence, with no façade to maintain.

She advanced quickly in her skills with the long knives, much faster than he could have anticipated. The recent ordeal of the Battle of the Five Armies and its associated events began to gradually recede from the elf prince's daily consciousness. It was only after he had the briefest thought one day, that Wren's style and sometimes her ferocity were almost reminiscent of Tauriel's, that he realized that it was the first time he had thought of she-elf in several days. The admission surprised him.

On a day when the beech and oak trees had their full canopy of leaves, and Wren had lingered after training had come to an end. Legolas asked Wren whether she thought she had the skill to deflect arrows using a sword or an arrow. She laughed in disbelief at the impossibility.

"Legolas, you have stayed here too long; now you tease me!"

"I'll wager it can be done, with the prize a week of meals for Strider and I."

"Done, but you will lose either way, if I am cooking."

He set up the target and stood halfway, at right angles to it. He instructed Wren to try and hit the target. She was grinning.

"You doubt my skill, Wren?" He called with his eyebrows raised, amused.

"You have been drinking too much mead with Daernon and Asvard," she said, as she took aim and fired an arrow. He was ready for it, and fired his own so that it intercepted hers before it hit the target. Her mouth dropped open in amazement. She was quick though. She leapt to the side, rolled, aimed again, and then rolled the other way, loosing another two arrows. All three arrows missed the mark, deflected off course. She stopped, stood and tilted her head toward the grinning elf prince.

"It seems that I will be in the kitchen this week instead of training, elf lord!" as she did a sweeping mock bow. "Now, teach me how to do that!" She begged, as she bounded up to him.

Legolas enjoyed the small sliver of praise.

"It is all about seeing the arrow before it is fired and then tracking its path. You need exceptional eyesight and reflexes, which I believe you have...most unusual for mortals." He thought he saw something in her eyes at that moment, but she turned.

"Take your position, as if you are going to deflect the arrow." He lent from behind her to correct her angle. As he did so, his arm brushed her shoulder and parted her hair across her ear.

Startled, he stopped, losing his train of thought long enough for Wren to chide him without looking round.

"And what next? If you continue so slowly, I am going to have to ask Gelwin for lessons..."

"Wren, your ear..." he said in a low voice.

She turned, alarmed, and immediately raised her hand self-consciously to her left side even though her hair had fallen back across.

"Oh, that." She hesitated and then laughed dismissively.  "I believe it is a birth defect." Her smile had returned, but it seemed forced, as she spun abruptly to walk away from him.

He ran to catch up with her and stood in her path, his hand gently on her shoulder.

"Wren..." he said quietly, looking intently at her.

She seemed almost impatient.

"What does it matter?" the twinkle had left her eyes. Legolas felt briefly ashamed for being so intrusive.

He let her go.

Wren walked quickly back to the village without looking behind her, but as she left him, she said, "If you really want to know more, you may ask the twins. They have been trying to figure it out for the last twenty- five years."

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*Alfirin and Mallos ~ Tolkien flowers, yep, he also invented flowers - what a legend!

*muindyr nín ~ my brothers

The plot thickens... I would love to receive your comments and PLEASE vote on this chapter if you enjoyed it. Each vote and comment helps the wider circulation of my story, I really appreciate them!

DEDICATION aerosmithgirl20 : for being such a faithful voter, sometimes reading quicker than I thought I could post, and occasionally yelling at me when I left her hanging ;)