Disclaimer: I don't own them and you know it.
Sword Dance

Legolas shifted restlessly on the bed he shared with Aragorn. King Theoden's halls were being filled with survivors and refugees from the raids. Aragorn, Legolas and Gimli had agreed to share a room to make extra space and they were unwilling as yet to be seperated from each other. Gimli lay on the large couch snoring softly. Aragorn too was sleeping lightly. The prince sighed. He seemed to be the only one unable to find sleep this night.
Unable to stay still any longer Legolas quickly dressed donning his weapons. Making sure his friends were still asleep he eased out into the corrider. He roamed the grounds moving like a shadow in the night. For once he found no solace in the stars. He needed to release the physical tension that seemed to be running through his body.
Silent feet brought him to Theoden's throne hall. Several torches where lit giving a weak light in the large chamber. Legolas' keen elven senses swept the area checking for servents or guards. There were none as all were fast asleep at this hour.
Satisfied Legolas rested his bow against one of the large pillars. He shrugged out of the harness holding his weapons setting them beside the bow. Vambraces next. Cloak and overcoat were folded up and set on the ever growing pile. He slipped out of his light boots as he unsheathed his twin knifes.
Legolas walked to the middle of the spacious chamber his barefeet making no noise against the cold stone. He turned on his heel marking the layout of the room mentally before kneeling and setting his knifes crossed before him. He removed a soft cloth from a pocket binding it around his eyes effectively blindfolding himself. He rested his hands on his thighs taking a deep breath.
Aragorn and Gimli both awoke almost at the same time feeling a difference around them. They looked around the room hands automatically gripping weapons. Their elven companion was missing. A mutual look passed between the two. Such a journey as theirs had been had made them cautious. Together without a word they went in search of their companion.
There was no sign of the elf in the empty corriders. Gimli motioned outside knowing the elf's love of the stars. Aragorn shook his head. Something was telling him their friend was not outside. The ranger cocked his head listening to some inner voice. He motioned to Gimli finally and they made their way steathly down the halls. They entered a small side door to Theoden's throne room.
Legolas was kneeled in the center of the room. The silver blue shirt that he wore under his overcoat shined like fragmented colors under the torches pale glow. His normally storm blue eyes were hidden under a white cloth. His face was set in concentration.
Gimli made to move forward but Aragorn stopped him. Gimli opened his mouth to protest but instead turned his eyes to their companion. At that moment Legolas rose in a slow movement that spoke of barely contained power and grace.
Legolas drew in a deep breath holding it a moment before letting it out. He repeated this several times as he sorted through his racing thoughts and concerns. Around him outside noises and distractions began to fade from his mind. He concentrated on the inner song and light that flowed through all beings. He let confidence fill him as he kneeled with head bowed. Their goals would be accomplised and they would succeed. He would succeed.
In a single fluid movement Legolas rose to his feet his swords grasped in a firm but loose hold. With slow, controlled movements Legolas began to preform the Macilsir or sword dance.
Left block. Right thrust. Step forward. Spin. Right blade out.
The sound of the blades cutting the air seemed to move in time with the beating of his heart. Knifes that had been a gift from his father. Their ivory handles now worn and molded through the ages to fit his hands perfectly.
Right parry. Kneel. Twist. Slash. Upper cut left.
Gimli and Aragorn watched from the shadows as Legolas moved.
"The Macilsir." Aragorn whispered. "It's an ancient fighting form." Aragorn watched in awe. He had never seen his long time friend perform such a feat. Many times he had witnessed his brothers and even Elrond and Glorfindel perform variations of the Sword Dance. It took complete and utter concentration and skill. Spans of years, lifetimes even, were put forth into learning the art and mastery of such an act.
Slash. Flip. Turn and cut.
Legolas twirled his blades with deadly speed and acuracy. These same blades that had fought many times in the defense of fellow warriors. They had stood between the fellowship and darkness many times.
Right. Left. Kick. Spin.
They could do this. They could fight and win. Aragorn would become king. Frodo and Sam would see the ring destoyed to return safely to them.
Right parry. Hold. Back. Left cut.
Legolas would return to his beloved home in the woods. He could imagine himself sitting with his father retelling him of his journey.
Duck. Turn. Left block. Right cut.
Wait until he told his father about his friendship with Gimli. He could almost see the expression on his father's face.
Kneel. Roll. Up and cut-
Legolas swore silently feeling himself slip ever so slightly. He was not concentrating. He quickened his pace angry at himself for the slip. You were your own enemy and judge in this matter. Only you knew how well you preformed.
Slow. Step and Flip. Right block. Left slash.
Gimli watched Legolas pick up the speed of his movements, fighting an unseen enemy. For a moment Gimli wondered at his friend's age. It was something that he had never thought about before. The eternally youthful face belied the elf's true age. The elf had seen more years than he could fathom. In his eyes the elf seemed to be ancient at this time, like one of the first elves to walk Ardar. What must it be like to live a thousand years or more? What events had the elf witnessed in his long life?
Gimli almost laughed to himself. It was ridiculous. A dwarf wondering about the life of an elf. Of course, who would have ever heard of a dwarf and an elf becoming friends? What until Gloin heard about this.
Gimli stared at his companion unable to move or give voice during the display unfolding before him. He was in awe as the lithe body moved throughout the hall. The light colored tunic and starlight complexion of his friend gave Legolas an etheral quality. It was one of the few times Gimli saw what a fey and fell creature his friend truely was.
Duck. Crouch. Right. Left cut. Upper block.
Legolas felt his heart beating fiercely in his chest. A fine sheen of persperation covered his brow. Fine tremors raced through his tiring body. Every muscle was taught with tension as he strained to control his movements. How long had he been doing this?
Cut. Spin. Kneel. Steady. Breathe.
Legolas crossed the knifes in front of him as he returned to his starting position. His heart raced wildly through his chest as fine tremors racked his body at the stress he had placed upon it. He focused inwardly willing himself to calm.
As Legolas began to relax back into his suroundings he realized he was not alone in the hall. Moving with elven speed he ripped off the blindfold, rising, to bring his knifes up defensively. His keen eyes focused on his watchers.
He let the knifes fall to his side some of the tension leaving his body as he reconized his friends. He stared at his friends somewhat apprehensively, uncomfortable at being the center of attention.
Gimli was the first to break the silence as he stepped forward to gather Legolas' cloak and tunic. "Come on Laddie. It's time for folk to rest. We have a hard road ahead of us and need not be chasing you at all times of the night."
A smile touched the corners of Legolas' mouth as he gathered up his belongings. "I am tired." He admitted. "Though I doubt I will get any rest with your constant snoring." He couldn't resist to jibe lightly.
"Least wise I don't scare my companions sleeping with open eyes." Gimli harrumped good naturally.
"Gentlemen, we were talking about sleep." Aragorn reminded them lightly as they headed towards their room. "If you two insist of bickering all night I doubt any of us will get any rest."
"This coming from the man that did not sleep for the first two days of our journey." Legolas pointed out lightly.
"And had us marching in all kinds of forsaken weather and hours of the day," added Gimli.
Aragorn raised his hands in defeat. "I thought we were going to sleep."
"We are." Legolas replied leaping and landing elegantly in the center of the bed.
"Oh no you don't." Aragorn poked his friend in the side. "Move over. Your not having the whole bed to yourself 'elf'."
"I am a Prince and I should get the bed." Legolas replied periously.
"And I am the future king, now move over."
Legolas stuck his tongue out before complying. Gimli chuckled at their antics as he settled himself on the couch. Legolas glared at the dwarf in mock threat before raising an eyebrow directing his words at Aragorn. "Why are we sharing a room with the dwarf again?"
Aragorn smacked the elf with a pillow. "Don't start Legolas. That's an order."