Bomfris would be flabbergasted. She lost to Laerophen in their little contest, after all. “Oi, didn’t you say your brother was better than you at archery?”
Laerophen would be staring at Legolas in puzzlement. “He is. I mean. Was?”
“He’s a finer shot even than I,” Laindawar would say, slowly. “Has the south sapped your skills, honeg nin?”
“He’s a bonny fighter!” Gimli would protest, ready to defend Legolas against anyone and anything. Naturally, it’s not a helpful thing to say. Legolas avoids looking at his brothers, tips his head away, mumbles something incomprehensible about Uruk-Hai and knife-work and explosives.
Thranduil would probably take one glance between the mortified, tongue-tied Legolas and the totally oblivious confused vaguely-defensive Gimli. Realisation dawns. It is followed by a GIANT SIGH OF RESIGNATION.
Meanwhile Gloin is prouder than punch. MY LAD BEAT THE ELF AT ORC-KILLING HELL YAH OF FUCKING COURSE HE DID DWARVES RULE ELVES DROOL *high fives Dwalin*