Near a week spent in close, close companionship with the warden has at least solidified Thranduil’s opinion of him into something that can be explained in a few words: somehow tainted, otherwise enjoyable to be around. The caveat of ‘for a Man’ is stamped on that in big, red letters, but when is it not?
He won’t remember what they were talked about later, once he struggles to recall the memories in the estate. It was a fun conversation, Thranduil will recall, his lips curled in a smile, but then the arrow, and he cannot imagine his horse is well trained for war. Herian is somewhere in front of them, and the ladies two, but he and Alistair are the only two out of the group with big, physical swords. They haven't fought together, which hinders them, but Alistair knows this world better, so it is to him Thranduil looks in those precious split seconds--
The mage is leading. She needs to fall first, and she is an elf, he cannot kinslay.
"Orders?" He asks, because every moment is precious, but a moment of thought here might save them all.
for alistair
He won’t remember what they were talked about later, once he struggles to recall the memories in the estate. It was a fun conversation, Thranduil will recall, his lips curled in a smile, but then the arrow, and he cannot imagine his horse is well trained for war. Herian is somewhere in front of them, and the ladies two, but he and Alistair are the only two out of the group with big, physical swords. They haven't fought together, which hinders them, but Alistair knows this world better, so it is to him Thranduil looks in those precious split seconds--
The mage is leading. She needs to fall first, and she is an elf, he cannot kinslay.
"Orders?" He asks, because every moment is precious, but a moment of thought here might save them all.