Unknown pov
I watch the elf glancing at me. I know he can't see my gaze- my cowl is pulled over such that my eyes are covered by shadows. I see Terryn walk over to the elf and whisper something in his ear, sending another curious glance my way. I can tell that he is saying not to mess with me. Good. As it should be.
There is something about the elf that reminds me of someone. His blonde hair. His narrow face. His bright blue eyes.
Then it hits me.
Thranduil.
This elf looks very similar to the elven "king". Maybe they are related. This elf definitely looks well off- with his perfectly intact cloak, nice tunic, and flawless weaponry. What was a Mirkwood elf doing here at the Stonebird Tavern. There is something fishy about this situation.
I get up, keeping my cloak closely around my person, and I slam my empty mug onto the bar counter. Terryn and the elf look up surprised.
"You want more sir?" Terryn asks. I lean close to him, making sure my glare is visible.
"Oh yes," I hiss, keeping my hand wavering over my knife that is holstered on my belt. Terryn nods and hastily grabs my mug and fills it up with ale. He puts it in front of me and I grab it and chug half of it. I lean against the counter, eyeing the elf.
Terryn suddenly leans close to me.
"Galather, I wouldn't be messing with him." He warns.
"Why not?" I demand, grabbing the collar of his tunic. He shrinks back.
"Never mine, sir, I'll stop talking, do what you'd like." He blubbers.
"You got that right." I scoff, letting go of him. Then I casually stroll over to the elf's table and sit across from him.
"Well, well, hello." I greet, smiling.
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.
