AN: My first fic for a long time. It's been awhile since I've written anything on my own time that wasn't for school. I know it's short, another chapter should be coming up soon.
Disclaimer: Don't own, so don't sue.
The Hidden Prince
Ducking a knife whizzing by his head, Bast veered into the nearest building he could see, "The Shining Serpent." Unfortunately for him, he ended up in a much worse situation. A cold, sharp blade pressed into his throat, and long fingers gripped his hair, pulling his head back.
"What do you think you are doing?" a silky voice demanded. Not wanting to antagonize this obviously dangerous being any further, he automatically answered.
"Hiding, sir." He cringed inside at the sound of the waver in his usually steady voice. The knife didn't move, and Bast started thinking that his last view of the world would be of the ceiling in a Waterdeep tavern.
"Well if that's the case, you'd do well to hide in another place," the smooth, icy voice continued, "and none are welcome once we're closed." His hair was released and the blade removed, much to Bast's relief. He shook his head and rubbed the small nick where the dagger was resting. Now that his head was free to move, he turned to look at the man who'd caught him so quickly. His eyes widened at what he saw.
A handsome male stood before him, beside a table strewn with the paperwork he was obviously working on. His clothes were immaculate, well-tailored and without a stain on them. A belt heavy with daggers rested comfortably on slim hips. His arms were crossed in front of his chest and his face held a menacing expression. Full lips were pulled into a sneer upon smooth white skin, and amber coloured eyes reminiscent of a large cat glared at him.
Most shocking to Bast, however, were the elegantly pointed elf ears.
"Yes, well, I'd better be going then." The wickedly sharp dagger was still out, held loosely in the elf's hand as if it belonged there. The tap of it against the elf's shoulder was decidedly unnerving.
Bast didn't get any reply; truthfully he expected a swift cut and a short fall in answer. Instead, those eyes continued staring at him, opening promising pain should Bast do anything to upset him. Bast stood, transfixed and unsure what to do. Did he need this man's leave before disappearing into the streets again? Would a dagger end up in his back the moment he turned? Neither possibility would surprise him.
"Well?" the elf snarled, snapping Bast out of his thoughts.
Like a cornered animal, Bast slowly backed up a few feet, then turned headlong and ran.
Straight into the door.
Cursing himself silently, he tore open the door and raced out.
Sheathing his dagger, the elf sat down at the small but sturdy table, and picked up his quill. The night was still early, and there were many deals yet to be finalized.