Four days had passed since Arryin and Legolas left the Woodland Realm. They had done what Thranduil requested, avoid the High Pass; and, currently, they were at the edge of the grey mountains.
A bad storm was brewing. Hell, it already started. The harsh winds whipped around their forms, blowing the mixture of freezing rain, snow, and ice upon their skin. They, of course, were cloaked in resistant fabric but it could only do so much.
"Legolas!" Arryin called out over the wind. "There's an inn up ahead. We can't keep pushing through this storm."
The Prince glanced at her and yelled back. "How do you know?! I can't see far in this blasted weather."
"I've been here before. It's called the Black Bear Inn, frequented by bounty hunters!"
Legolas frowned.
"Come on, Princeling! You know we don't have a choice."
He sighed in defeat for she was right. The weather was too rough to continue. So, they quickly made haste toward the location of the inn and it soon appeared in their vision.
As the Ranger yanked open the rusted door and the two bustled inside, they were immediately met with the sight of many burly, drunk men. All of which were of different sizes and ethnicities, decorated in different clothing and weapons. But it was clear what they were—bounty hunters.
Legolas and Arryin pulled off their wet cloaks and began to weave their way through the sea of rowdy men.
"Hmm," Arryin mumbled. "There must be a pretty big bounty out."
Legolas frowned at her words and she noticed his confusion, so she further explained. "Usually there's not this many. However, a whole lot of 'em in one place? Someone's price is high."
The Woodland Prince nodded curtly as he continued to follow her towards the bar.
However, they did not get far before a booming voice yelled out to them with a loud chuckle. "HAHA, NIYRRA!"
Instantly, Arryin whipped her head around, ready to draw a blade. But her sternness faded into a grin when she saw the hairy, heavyset man who called out her alias.
"Reidar!!" She responded with shock.
The man came bounding towards them, his drink sloshing in his cup. However, he stopped right in-front of her and slung an arm around her shoulders.
"Man, I knew it was you! I'd recognize ya pretty face anywhere!" Arryin laughed at his words and he continued. "It's been years! Where ye been?! Ya've missed some good hunts!"
The Ranger chuckled and shrugged. "I've been around."
He nodded in response, not questioning her words further, and took a big gulp of ale.
Arryin lightly patted his hand that hung around her form. "Imma get a drink. Good to see ya, Reidar!"
He bobbed his head up and down and released his loose hold on her. He then raised his own mug to his lips again and took another messy slurp from it. A loud burp followed that action and he stumbled away.
Legolas sent her a confused look, but the Ranger did not acknowledge it. Instead, she made her way to the bar, twisting through the sea of men. Legolas awkwardly followed her, like a shadow of confusion and alarm, for he felt entirely out of place.
The Ranger pulled herself onto a stool and Legolas did the same. She then tapped her first upon the counter. "Two ale's!" She called out.
The old barkeep turned at her voice. "Niyrra?!" he exclaimed in disbelief.
"Hey, Torr," she responded simply.
Legolas, who sat next to the Ranger, leaned in as the man, called Torr, filled up large tankards. "You seem quite popular around her."
Arryin shrugged. "Well, when you get around, people get to know you." She paused before continuing with a grin. "Besides, out here, people always know who brings in the baddest of the bad!"
The Woodland Prince raised his brows in question, but before he could get a response Torr placed the drinks in-front of them.
"So, Torr. What's going on here? Big price on someone?" Arryin stated while bringing her drink to her lips.
The old man before them frowned. "Ain't that why ye here?"
Arryin shook her head. "Nay, just passing through." The Elven Ranger leaned in and gestured to the drunk, rowdy, rough-looking men that were completely taking over the tavern. "So, pray tell, who they looking for?"
Torr shrugged. "Don't know much. Not a lot info has been spread on this one, but price is pretty high. They lookin for someone named Khaleesi. Couple people now callin him the Butcher of the Balgaid cus he killed the whole lot of em' in the western pass."
Instantly, the Ranger's blood ran cold as panic encased her heart. Time seemed to slow for her, just a bit, and she knew it was the same for Legolas because she could feel him tense beside her.
Torr, however, didn't notice. He continued speaking. "Don't know who he is, but the fellow must've really pissed someone off."
Trying to sound unswayed, Arryin spoke again. "Why's that?"
The old man jutted out his chin. "Ain't just any bounty. They want 'em dead. Kill order."
The Ranger swallowed dryly. However, before she or Legolas could add anything to the conversation, a roar of loud cheering sounded and a group drunkily stumbled against the two elves. A sloshing liquid poured from one of the men's tankards and soaked through the Ranger's clothing, running over her shoulder and down her side.
With a quick gasp, Arryin shot upward and turned to face whoever just drenched her gear.
"Watch where—"
But she never finished her sentence. As the man turned around and his face was revealed, Arryin's demeanor instantly changed. Her jaw clenched and her eyes narrowed with anger.
"Stick..." she hissed aggressively.
The man growled in furry as his drunken self recognized her. "Well, if it isn't Niyrra!"
The Ranger blew hot air through her nose as a defiant expression contorted her face. "Remember when I said that I would kill you the next time I saw you? Yeah, well, this is next time, fucker!"
Surprising Legolas, Arryin took her filled tankard and smashed it against the wooden counter, the liquid pouring out. Then, as quick as the speed of a river, she brought the broken glass forward in a heavy swing. It bashed into the side of Stick's face, leaving some bloody cuts behind.
Torr's short cries to stop faded into the loud rumble of anger that bellowed from Stick's chest.
The burly man then threw a punch at Arryin, but she was quick to duck out of his way. She instantly forced her fist into the fatty flesh of his massive belly. This, however, did not make Stick happy. Instead, he grabbed her by the shoulders and slammed her against the counter.
But Arryin wasn't one to just take it. She yanked her head back and then bashed it forward, effectively headbutting him. She then used this as an opportunity to grab another customer's plate and smash it against Stick's skull—chicken, potatoes, and all.
Torr yelled once again to halt the commotion, but it was no use.
Stick stumbled backwards barking and booming enraged curses and yells.
It was at this moment that one of his friends stepped in. A smaller, but no less fat, man approached with a threatening demeanor. Unfortunately for him, Arryin was prepared. She grasped him by the collar of his tunic and yanked him upwards. With one strong movement, she sent him sliding down the long counter top—smashing Legolas' cup of ale and everyone else's as he went.
As this in particular was going down, yet another one of Stick's friends approached. He made way towards Arryin, but Legolas was quick to step in-front of him. The Woodland Prince clocked him in the jaw hard and the man ended up on the floor, knocked out cold.
Arryin then advanced on Stick. She drew her crystal dagger from its residential place upon her thigh and raised it forward. However, just as she was about to slam it into the bounty hunter, a strong force wound its way around her form and yanked her back.
She, of course, faught it.
Arryin kicked and hollered as she tried to wrangle free from the tight grasp. However, the person's hand still managed to snatch her blade from her. All this gave Stick time to recover and lunge for her, but he too was restrained.
"Get OFF!" The Ranger yelled, still swinging.
The voice of her betrothal sounded loudly in her ear, "No! You need to calm down!"
"I SAID—" She began again.
However, Legolas, still latching onto her, snapped. "NIYRRA! STOP!"
At those words, she froze. Never had Legolas called her by that name. It was always 'Arryin, Arry, or Dilthen Er (little one).' She, of course, knew why he did so, but still it surprised her and brought her back to reality.
She stopped fighting and punching, so Legolas cautiously released his hold; however, he was still prepared to snatch her back into his arms if she tried anything again.
The room shushed into murmurs and the occasional yell as Torr stood between Arryin and Stick, who was still slightly restrained. The barkeep looked towards the female Ranger.
"Get out!" he stated.
Arryin opened her mouth to protest, but the older man continued.
"Niyrra, ye know the rules of ma' bar. No fights and especially no killin!"
Arryin huffed. "Seriously Torr, it's one hell of a storm out there! You know we can't—"
This time, Legolas was the one to interrupt. "Sir, just give us a room and we won't bother you again. We will be out when the weather calms in the morning."
At this point, all the men turned to look at the male elf in the room. They hadn't really noticed him beforehand, but now he stuck out like a sore thumb. He was entirely out of place. As bounty hunters, these men never really came across elves—Arryin was an exception because she wasn't really like her kin. So, seeing this tall, lean, muscled, armored, and ethereal looking being, they all quieted into silence.
The barkeep raised a wiry brow at the elf before turning his head back to Arryin. "Who's this?! Ya lover boy?"
Light chuckles erupted at his words.
Arryin huffed. "Does it matter? He's with me." She paused before continuing with a snap, "And he could kill at least three of you in ten seconds!"
That seemed to shut them up.
Torr then stared at Legolas for a moment, contemplating his options and final decision.
He nodded slowly. "Fine, fine."
The old man reached for the almost empty key ring and yanked one off. He then passed it to Arryin and she gave him three gold coins.
The two elves then quickly made their way up the rickety stairs with haste—the sounds of the chattering, drunk men filling the tavern once more.
Once the door closed behind him and Arryin, Legolas turned to face her with crossed arms. "What the hell was that Arry?! You know we're supposed to be keeping a low profile."
The Ranger sighed as she dropped her bag onto one of the chairs and threw her bow upon the table. "Last time I saw him, I promised I would kill him."
Legolas rolled his eyes. "Yeah I got that, but why?"
Arryin huffed and a scowl crossed her expression as she continued to unload her weapons. "He tried to kill me and steal my bounty. Knocked me pretty good in the head too." She glanced up at him. "And you know, I deliver on my promises."
The Prince sighed in defeat and he too began to unload all the various steel and metal from his form.
As he did so, Arryin leaned forward and gently lit the few candles that were left out upon the table. However, she did not use any materials to do so; instead, the wicks caught fire from a small flame that danced upon her hand. She then picked up one of the waxy shapes. Arryin carried it with her while she made her way towards a rickety screen that poorly blocked the washing room.
"They usually keep hot water in all the rooms," she called out as her form disappeared behind the crappy brown shield. The sound of multiple tins of liquid dumping into a large basin began to echo through the room right after her words.
Legolas took this moment to observe the room. It was quite bland and simple. A large, creaky bed—with muted sheets—was the centerpiece of the area and it took up a decent amount of space. On the far side of it, however, was nothing but a window. The glass, fogged with condensation, showed the battering storm outside. Some branches from a tree lightly scraped against it, creating a hushed beating sound, but Legolas didn't mind. In the corner near the door that they just walked in was the small table where they had dumped their belongings; and, other than that and the washroom, there was just open space.
It was then when Legolas was pulled from his thoughts by the thudding of a pair of trousers. They had been flung over the changing screen and landed upon the floor directly in-front of him. Not two seconds later, the next article of clothing rumbled through the air—an ale soaked tunic; however, it landed right on Legolas' head.
The Prince sighed as he pulled it off and let it fall to the floor.
Slowly, he approached the screen and made his way around it.
He stopped as his gaze landed on his Ranger within the large basin. The water hung around her collarbones as she leaned back, exposing her neck and the couple tribal markings that decorated it. Additionally, her black hair was slick from the hot liquid and some shampoo clung to the ends. Her figure was concealed by the bubbles upon the surface, but steam still radiated upwards upon her peaceful expression.
She didn't even open her eyes when she spoke, "You gonna get in or are you just gonna stand there?"
"You think we can both fit in that?!" He retorted.
She snorted. "We can make it work."
Cautiously, Legolas pulled off his boots and began to undress, leaving his clothing on the floor as well.
He made his way over to the tub and, noticing her knee sticking out of the center, spoke. "Move your legs."
The Ranger sighed, but did as he asked.
Slowly, the Woodland Prince sank into the basin. However, it went just as smoothly as he had thought, and that was: entirely NOT smoothly.
"Arry, move your legs!"
"I did!" She exclaimed, opening her eyes.
He huffed, adjusting once again.
"Ow, Princeling!" She hissed.
"What?!"
Her face scrunched up. "Is that your foot touching my side?"
"Oh for the love of—" Legolas began as he reached forward, slipping his hands upon her waist. As fast as an arrow strung from a bow, he lifted her form and plopped her back down upon his thighs.
She smirked at him with raised brows.
He, knowing exactly what she was thinking, sent her a glare.
Arryin rolled her eyes.
With that short, wordless exchange, the Ranger reached forward and gently began to undo his braids.
Legolas leaned his head back and let his eyelids flutter closed. "Don't tangle them," he warned.
"I won't," she replied. "Besides, I've been practicing!"
He snorted. "Oh really?! On who?"
Arryin huffed. "Beyla."
"Hhmm," he hummed simply in response, for her answer seemed verifiable enough.
Legolas then let his form relax as the warmth of the water seeped into the coldness of his skin. After the long journey they had through the storm and the chaotic bar fight only moments before, he needed rest. So, he settled into the current position and let his lover work on undoing his woven locks.
Surprisingly, she did quite well. It took a little long, but she didn't yank or pull like he had suspected. When she was done with untangling them, he could feel her weight shift as she reached outside the tub, but he didn't mind. After a couple seconds, her hands found their way back into his hair—go figure—with the same pine-smelling liquid that had been in hers. As she massaged it into his head and rinsed it out, he couldn't stop the small grin that tugged at the corner of his mouth. It was quite sweet of her—washing his hair. It wasn't something she would normally do considering her usual temperament. However, over the past couple years, when the two of them were alone, she wasn't always so assailing and disruptive. She had a gentle side, one that she didn't show to any other. Legolas felt like he was getting glimpses into what she had been like before she endured so much. He was getting small peeks back in time to her gentle, kind soul—before it had been ripped, tortured, and cut up.
However, that quiet moment did not last long. A soft, little smack struck his cheek. It didn't hurt at all, but it was unexpected.
"Oi!" He exclaimed, opening his blue orbs.
"Get that smirk off your face," she retorted.
But her words only caused his grin to further. He sat upright, bringing her form flush against him, causing her cheeks to tint a light pink.
"Why?" He whispered in a teasing tone, inches from her lips.
She did not respond.
Instead, Arryin dipped her head slightly and forcefully pressed her mouth against his. He instantly returned the kiss as her arms weaved themselves around his neck. Slowly, Legolas let his hands curl around her form and inch up her back. His fingertips trailed upon her spine and along every white tribal marking that littered her skin, sending cold shivers to her nerves. With every gentle touch, Arryin pushed more pressure into the kiss; and, as she did so, inched up closer and closer. Her breasts ghosted upon Legolas' chest ever so slightly, causing a slight gasp to leave her lips. The male elf felt that tiny brush of air exchange between them, and he couldn't help but smirk—yet again—into the melding of their lips.
The Ranger tugged at his bottom lip. "Stop doing that!"
Legolas frowned, pulling away slightly. "Doing what?"
Arryin glared at him. "That stupid smirk!"
The Prince grinned cheekily at her.
However, in retaliation, she scooched her ass forward and ceased the small distance that had been left between them.
Instantly, Legolas' mouth parted and his breath left his chest. His eyelid quickly fluttered closed and his jaw clenched as he concentrated on keeping control.
"See?!" She exclaimed proudly as she inched her lips towards his ear. Her voice then changed to a low tone. "You get what you give."
The Prince's ocean eyes opened once more and a playful smile formed upon his expression. "Then I quite like this version of karma."
Arryin leaned back a bit and rolled her emerald orbs. However, before she could come up with a snarky remark, her lover's mouth was upon hers once again; and instinctively, she gave in.
As the kiss progressed, it became anything but innocent. The fierce force between them grew as their mouths melded together, desperate for more. Teeth scraped against skin and the soft touch of gentle lips traveled while their hips rolled together, splashing most of the water from the basin. The Prince was quick to lift her ass up slightly, angling himself beneath her; and she sunk down upon him with a gasp. Legolas immediately pressed his mouth hungry upon her throat, and she arched her head back to give him more access. Words tumbled from her lips. At first, they were curses and plees in the common tongue. Next, they were flushed whispers in Sindarian. Then, they were incoherent sentences—not even strung together. And finally, they were quiet moans and soft whimpers.
However, Arryin wasn't the only one who let sounds leave her lips. As their bodies moved together—skin against skin, breath against breath, heart against heart—rough groans and quiet murmurs left the Prince's mouth as well. And soon enough, their lips didn't even bother to try and connect, for they were too focused on letting their forms bend together and become one in the simple union of love.
They kept this rythme for a while; with their current positioning, Arryin doing most of the work. However, that allowed Legolas' hands to freely wander. They danced upon her skin—exploring every crevice and every curve—as he listened to the sound of their hushed breaths and flushed bodies. His palms soon gilded up to Arryin's breasts, cupping them carefully. Still, he could not resist advancing his touch. So, he bent his head downward and began to leave kisses and playful bites upon her soft flesh.
This initiated a reaction from the elleth riding him. Arryin moaned his name loudly, arching her back as she did so. Legolas' chest immediately swelled with pride.
Slowly, he opened his blue orbs and looked upon her face. However, he saw more than he expected. A brilliant white light illuminated from behind her—from her back and upon the curves of her shoulders and neck. The pure color created a defining pattern which danced upon the wall. Every circle and dot, every swirl and bend, every line within the design of her tribal markings was displayed upon the room around them. They two elves were bathed in a gentle light—the light of a star.
However, Arryin did not see it. She did not open her eyes. Instead, she leaned forward and buried her face in his neck.
Legolas instinctually weaved his hand through her black hair, letting his finger graze upon her sensitive elvish ear.
"Legolas..." she panted. "Legolas..."
A quiet gasp left his lips for the final time that night; and he too closed his eyes as he clutched her form tightly, the white glow upon her skin fading.
After a couple moments of hushed panting and quiet breath, Legolas slowly stood, taking her form with him. He rose from the basin and carefully stepped out. With one hand supporting the Ranger—who automatically wrapped her legs around his waist—he made way towards the small table of towels. He gingerly draped one over her shoulders and curled his other arm around her. Legolas then walked towards the bed and laid her down, covering her body with the fluffy fabric.
He pressed a soft kiss upon her cheek. "I love you, Dilthen Er (little one)."
She smiled up at him, warmth radiating from her skin. "I love you too."
With that, the elf turned and slipped behind the screen to get his own towel. Seconds later, he emerged with the same grey fabric tied around his waist. He approached the table and picked up a pitcher of water and slowly poured its contents into a glass. He brought it to his lips and turned to face Arryin, who was sprawled about the bed. Her chest was still rising and falling relatively quickly as she relaxed into the comfort of the mattress.
"Have I tired you out completely?" Legolas questioned smugly.
Arryin propped herself up upon her elbow and smirked. "You wish, Princeling."
Legolas chuckled at her words before rummaging through his pack. He pulled out his softest tunic and a pair of loose trousers. He then dug through her leather bag until he found her undergarments. Gently, he picked up her clothing and his own soft tunic and brought it towards her. He placed it upon the mattress next to her before turning back to pull on his own trousers. As he did so, she too sat up and dressed.
The Prince then made his way towards the bed and flopped down upon it, a content sigh leaving his lips. It was then when Arryin stood.
"Where are you going?" He complained as he reached for her.
She shrugged as she walked into the bathing room. "Nature calls."
Legolas huffed as he re-adjusted on the mattress, closing his eyelids and relaxing into the warmth of well needed shelter.
However, that moment was soon interrupted by a brisk knock upon the door.
Legolas groaned.
Arryin, however, who just emerged from the bathroom, spoke. "Relax, I'll get it."
She made long strides towards the door, but Legolas called out to her. "Perhaps you are forgetting something, Dilthen Er (little one)?"
She sent him a confused glare.
He sighed. "Pants, Arryin. Pants."
A couple elven curse words slipped from her lips as she began twisting and turning in the room—searching the various articles of clothing that were spread upon the floor.
The knock sounded again.
"In your bag." Legolas stated plainly.
Quickly, the Ranger rummaged through the disorganized leather and pulled out a pair of dark colored trousers. She quickly put them on and yanked at the door knob.
As the wood opened and she peaked her head out, a grin formed on her face.
"When I heard there had been a bar fight, I knew it had to be you! No one else would dare start shit in Torr's place!" said a male voice with a hearty laugh.
"Gwaine!" Arryin cried out with glee as she opened the door further.
A younger man, with thick dark hair and stubble—seemingly in his thirties—entered and enveloped the Ranger in an embrace.
A loud laugh left her lips as they pulled away. "What are you doing here?" she questioned.
He walked further into the room, his lips moving a toothpick around in his mouth as he grinned. "Same as everyone, I suppose."
The Ranger shrugged.
"So," Gwaine began. "Where have you been all these years, Niyrra? Ya seemed to have slipped off the edge of the world."
She chuckled lightly. "Around." She then changed the subject. "What do you want?"
He grinned. "That bounty is pretty high. What do you say we ban together and track down this Khaleesi fella? Just like old times, eh?"
Arryin shook her head. "Sorry, I've got plans."
Gwaine, disappointed, nodded and turned to observe the room; and that is when his eyes landed on the shirtless, blond elf sitting up in the bed."
"Oh," Gwaine chuckled lightly with a grin. "Didn't realize ya had company."
He, with a smirk, slung his arm around the Ranger's shoulder and nodded at the male elf. "So uh, you guys fucking?"
Legolas noticeably became irritable at that comment and Gwaine's positioning. The muscle in the Prince's jaw twitched and his toned biceps and abs instinctually flexed.
Arryin rolled her eyes and stepped away from the man. She then spoke with slight amusement, "Get out, Gwaine."
He laughed gleefully, "Damn, Niyrra! After turning down every man with a punch, you end up sleeping with an elf?! What happened to 'elves are privilege fuckers' and 'don't want anything to do with 'em?"
"Gwaineee," she continued, dragging his name out in a sing-songy tone. "Out."
She pressed her palms against his back and shoulders then shuffled him towards the door.
The young man continued cackling and, right before Arryin pushed him through the threshold, he called out to Legolas. "You're lucky buddy." He then winked, "I just wish it was me!"
With that, Arryin slammed the door shut in Gwaine's face and made her way back to bed. She flopped down on her stomach as Legolas adjusted to a more forward sitting position, his arm resting upon his propped up knee.
"He wants to sleep with you." The Prince stated with blunt annoyance and jealousy.
Arryin groaned roughly. "They all do."
Legolas' irked expression deepened. "He also thinks we're having sex."
The green-eyed warrior turned her head to face him. "Well, we are having sex."
Legolas huffed. "Yeah but don't they know that elves—"
Arryin propped herself up again and interrupted him. "No they don't. They're humans. They know next to nothing about elves. Hell, I didn't know much about elves until I ended up in Mirkwood and I am an elf." She sighed, taking a pause. "We're kinda like a taboo to them."
Legolas frowned.
"Well, think about it. Elves rarely ever come out from their Realms. They are reserved people and the humans might not even see a single one in their lifetime. Human life is different from ours. It's as simple as that."
The Prince sighed as his hand trailed upon her skin. "I know."
A comfortable silence settled into the air for a moment, but Legolas interrupted that.
"They are trying to kill you. All of them down there. They are all hunting you."
Arryin huffed as she re-adjusted on the creaky mattress. "I'm aware."
Legolas scooted closer to her. "So, what are we gonna do about it?"
"Lay low I guess. Go to Rivendell and back to Mirkwood. Stay out of the human's line of sight for a while."
He wrapped his arm around her, pulling her form into his chest.
"But who put out the hit on you? No one, besides the elves, know of your true identity."
Arryin sighed. "Well, the orcs."
Legolas frowned. "Do you think this leader or master is the one who did it?"
"Probably. Only more of a reason to get information from Elrond."
Legolas bobbed his head slightly in agreement. "We should get some rest. We have much ground to cover tomorrow," he stated simply.
He pulled away to blow out the candle, but the Ranger stopped him.
"Wait," she called out. "Watch this."
She sat up excitedly and held open her palm. "I've been practicing...."
Arryin focused her gaze upon the tiny flame and cautiously curved her fingers. Slowly, it began moving and contorting. It did this for a moment, before eventually taking on a form. Wings seemed to sprout from the flames, along with a body. After a couple moments of small adjustments, the fire became the rough shape of a very tiny, tiny dragon. It rose upwards and moved towards the two elves, flapping its wings.
Legolas' face lit up in a smile as he gazed in awe.
Arryin grinned at his expression and brought the little, fire dragon closer.
The Prince went to reach for it but Arryin slapped his hand away, her concentration breaking and the dragon dissipating.
"Don't touch! You burn!"
Legolas sighed sadly as it faded into nothingness.
"Sorry," he murmured sheepishly.
He then curled his form around hers once again, keeping her tight within his arms.
Legolas gazed at her softly with an expression full of love. The moonlight that bleed through the window danced upon her face, reflecting a soft glow. He could see every bend and curve of her features. He could observe every shadow and highlight upon her form. She looked so peaceful and happy within his arms. She looked so beautiful.
Gently, the Prince reached forward and let his fingers trail against her jaw. They then danced down her neck and onto the soft skin of her collarbone and shoulder, for the tunic was too big for her and swayed around her body. Legolas began to trace the white markings there. When she had obliterated the entire orc and spider army, her tribal markings spread further upon her flesh. And this? This fascinated him.
"There are so many now," he whispered.
Arryin sighed, "Well, with every kill another appears and I took many lives that day."
He moved his thumb against one of the larger dots. "They have gone further than just your back though. Is that normal?"
The Ranger shrugged. "Don't know. No one of my race has ever killed as many as I."
The blond ellon looked into her emerald eyes. "I still think they are beautiful."
She smiled softly.
"You," he continued. "You are beautiful."
[A.N: hey guys!! What do you think? Send some feedback my way ;) ]