The Elvenking impatiently tapped his finger on the armrest of the high back chair that he sat on. Around the table were all the gathered leaders for the summit; a portly man from Rohan was babbling about agricultural trade.
If he were any shorter he may very well be perfectly round, Thranduil mused. Soon the man's voice turned into a distant murmur as his mind drifted back to the previous night.
The tavern fell silent as her glare settled on the two men who had started the brawl. A long and tense silence followed for several minutes before she slowly approached the men he seemed to shrink back against the wall as she approached.
The sound of her boots on the hardwood seemed deafening compared to the silence. Thranduil watched her carefully, memories of seeing her in battle flooding back into his mind. As she neared the men she held the same fierce determination as if she were approaching an enemy.
She stopped in front of the pair, slowly reaching up and pulling the wholly black sword from the wall. As the man's arm dropped back down by his side as she placed her hands behind her back, still holding the hilt of the sword tight in her hand.
She looked to the man at her left, "You are not from Rahnshell, Rohirrim, so you are not aware of how this tavern is run," Her hard gaze slid to the man on her left, "But you, Temolir, know better." Temolir slumped his shoulders forward as Zilarynn continued, "Tell me, what is the first rule of my tavern?"
A mumbled reply was all that she heard.
"I beg your pardon?"
Temolir squared his shoulders, "No blood spilled in the tavern."
"No blood spilled in the tavern," She repeated as she glanced down to the red spots next to her boot before looking back up, "and what have you done?"
"Spilled blood in the tavern."
Zilarynn spun on her heel and looked at all the other patrons with a cursory glance, "The tavern is now closed. Everyone out."
There were collective groans and insults hurled in the direction of the pair who were now resheathing their swords as others put on their coats and finished their pints. The Rohirrim man grunted as he threw his jacket on and began walking towards the door as he eyed the elven woman behind the bar. He almost reached the door when he heard a call behind him, "Rohirrim!" He turned to see the woman setting a wooden bucket on one of the tables and took a few steps towards him, "He who spills the blood, cleans it up."
The man was taken aback as a rag was tossed in his direction and he watched as she tossed a second rag to Temolir who expectantly caught the cloth and began dipping the rag in the hot soapy water. The tavern was almost emptied before the Rohirrim begrudgingly joined the other man in cleaning the floor.
As Zilarynn walked back towards the bar she stopped mid stride and looked to her left. Two ellons had remained seated, staring at her. She turned and walked closer to where they remained, "I said we're closed. You'll need to finish your pints and leave."
They watched her for another moment, one ellon glancing to the other, as if waiting for approval. When the other one rose, Zilarynn noted how tall he was, even by elvish standards. He continued staring at her, his mouth partially agape. She couldn't tell if he was trying to intimidate her or not; but it would not work. She had faced worse.
The other ellon left through the main door leaving the pair locked in a staring match while the other men continued cleaning the floor.
"I," the ellon cleared his throat, "I didn't catch your name, Tavern Keeper."
Zilarynn tightened her jaw, "That's because it was not offered. Have a good evening."
He stared down at her for another moment before offering a slight bow and exiting the tavern. Zilarynn watched as he left, the way that he gracefully moved seemed oddly familiar to her, but she couldn't pinpoint why.
"What say you, KIng Thranduil?"
Thranduil was snapped out of his memory at the sound of his name and looked around the room. All eyes were facing him now, not knowing what was being discussed he formulated a response he hoped would fit with the currently unknown conversation, "And how would the Woodland Realm benefit from this agreement?"
"A marvelous question," The round man from Rohan replied, "In exchange for the Woodland Realm providing Rohan and Rahnshell with fresh meat of the wild animals that you do not take back to your palace, Rohan is ready to provide a small regiment to assist in guarding the southern border of your Realm and Rahnshell will provide the finest bottles of Dorwinion wine and other spirits and ales that our Tavern Keeper has a knack for obtaining."
The Tavern Keeper.
Her.
Thranduil held his unimpressed stare, "I suppose that could be agreeable."
"Very good," The portly man looked around the table, "I suppose that will conclude the discussions for today. I will see you all at the feast."
A small dais had been built at the front of the main hall and was beautifully adorned with autumn wildflowers of red, orange, and yellow hues. Melanor finished pouring the last of the wine bottles into the long stemmed wine glass at the table making sure all were positioned perfectly.
Walking passed the makeshift bar that he and Zilarynn would serve from; he went into the side room that was behind them and walked through. "Zila," he called looking around the storage racks, "have you been crushed by a cask of ale?"
"Don't get your hopes up," she called from the back of the small room and Melanor followed the sound of her voice, "You aren't getting the tavern that easily."
"I'll have to try harder next time," Melanor said as he walked around the corner and stopped in his tracks, "Well… Would you look at that."
Zilarynn was lifting a small barrel to the ground. She straightened back up and dusted off her hands, looking up to Melanor and putting a hand on her hips, "What?"
"Nothing," Melanor shook his head, "I just never thought I would see you in a dress."
Zilarynn smirked,"And you'll never see it again."
They both heard a loud voice out in the main hall announcing the entrance of those who would be seated on the dais. Melanor looked back,"Come on, we better get out there."
Zilarynn smiled, "You go. I'll be right out."
As soon as she was alone she exhaled a shaky breath and placed a trembling hand over her heart, "Penin chur (I'm not ready.)" She closed her eyes and sent a silent prayer to the Valar that she wouldn't be noticed.
She quietly left the room and entered the main hall. She looked around to see everyone lifting a glass in toast of their distinguished guests. She looked up at the dais and felt her heart begin to race as she glimpsed a head of blonde hair.
The room began to grow louder as people ate and drank. After some time others started moving tables out of the way as a small quintet began to set up. Melanor came up next to Zilarynn and said over the growing commotion, "Hey, we're out of wine in the back. I'm going to go over to the tavern and get another cask."
"Don't worry, "ZIlarynn shook her head, "I'll go get it."
She walked away before Melanor could object, sticking to the far wall away from the dais. She popped her head into the barn and saw Dolanen leading the other children in a sword fight.
She enjoyed walking around at night, the darkness offered a quiet peace to her. It was the only time that she felt comfortable enough to let her mind wander to the past. Remembering walking through the trees with her Ada as he taught her to hunt. Dancing with her friends under the stars.
She walked into the tavern and immediately moved to the back room behind the main bar to get the cask of dorwinion. As she made her way back around the bar when she noticed a spilled mug of ale that had been left on the bar. With a sigh she set the cask down and grabbed a rag from behind the bar, beginning to clean up the mess.
She heard the subtle sound of the tavern door opening and closing behind her and called over her shoulder, "The tavern is closed. If you want something to drink, go to the main hall."
"I'm not here for a drink."
Zilarynn froze as ice seemed to freeze her veins. She set the rag on the bar and slowly turned around.
He stood by the main door,his grand crown causing an impressive shadow as the moonlight streamed in from the window. He wore a heavy outerrobe, no doubt attempting to stave off the chilled autumn air.
He tilted his head upward as he looked at her from across the vacant tavern.
"We have a lot to discuss, Zilarynn Vonondiel."