Legolas's pov
Still soaking wet, I open a large oak door of a cozy looking tavern. I feel several pairs of eyes fall onto me. I keep my face as unmoving as possible, regardless of the uneasy feeling of being watched tingling down my spine. Soft conversations slowly grow into silence. I casually stride over to the counter where a large bearded man stands washing a mug. He stares curiously at me with wide brown eyes.
"What'll you have stranger?" He asks, and at his words the noise in the tavern picks back up again. I pull the cowl of my cloak down and stare intently at the man.
"What do you have?" I ask, leaning against the counter.
"Grog, ale. and grog that tastes like ale." He responds, a hint of amusement twinkling in his eyes. A small smiles spreads on my face.
"Ale." I tell him. "And a room for the night." I add. The man nods and turns his back to me, filling a mug with a keg of ale.
"You have a name stranger?" He questions, turning back around to look closely at me. "We don't usually get too many elves here, since they're all hiding in Mirkwood." I tense up for a second. My name. I couldn't tell him my name. Trying to cover up my panic, I reach for the mug of ale he had set down on the table.
"I could imagine so," I say. "My name is Stillhawk. Thallan Stillhawk." I lie.
"Welcome Thallan to the Stonebird Tavern." He practically bellows. "My name is Terryn Abrams." He greets, holding out his hand. I put the mug down and shake his hand. He grips my hand tightly. I have to resist the urge to wince slightly at his strength. He is a quite broad and well muscled man. He gestures to an empty table.
"Sit down. Relax. You're room comes with dinner." He informs me. I nod and sit down at the small wooden table. A small ache forms in my heart at the thought of being so alone. I try to get rid of it by watching everyone else that's in the tavern. A group of drunken men are arguing about something in the corner and there's a dark clad figure by the door that I must've missed. They're hood is up and I can't see any facial features whatsoever. Feeling as if they're gaze has met mine- even though I had no one of knowing- I turn away. Suddenly Terryn walks over to the table and puts a bowl of soup down.
"There you go. Enjoy." He says, smiling. I smile back, but my gaze falls upon the man by the door again. Terryn follows my gaze and frowns.
"You shouldn't be messing with him." He whispers in my ear. "I wouldn't even look at him." He adds before walking away.
YOU ARE READING
The Prince of Mirkwood (a Legolas fan fiction)
FanfictionI watch in horror, as the arrow lodges itself into Legolas's chest. He grunts slightly and then falls to the ground, unmoving. I feel a tear form in my eye. "NO!" I shriek.
