The dark-haired elf smiled slightly, ironically, to see all the elves dancing so gaily. The smile faded slightly as the elf spotted the young prince. Mirkwood could do so much better than that pathetic weakling. Though he had survived his time in the wood.
The dark-eyed elf would have to take matters directly into hand after all, it seemed. There was no better solution. It wouldn't be difficult. It was amazing the number of friends one could fine in surprisingly low, and high, places.
A dark smile crossed the lips as a sip of dark wine was taken from the goblet. A drop escaped, leaving a trail that looked like blood down the pale cheek as black eyes flashed.
Enjoy tonight, dear little prince.
If I'm lucky, it'll be the last celebration you ever see.
Okay, I'm back, with a couple new chapters... Sorry about the delay!