Sorry it's taken so long *sweat drop* You've all been very patient and kind. Thank you.
Chapter 2
He was Captain Thin, not to ever be called by any other name, for he was a Corsair, a pirate of highest degree. He ran a large ship with a small crew, but that was fine by him. It meant more work, but the other men were well known to him so there was little chance of a mutiny.
Thin was not just a pirate though, he was also a slaver. He was the only one in the history of slavers that had a black enough heart to deal in elves.
His newest acquisition was a beauty and would catch a large price. The human too was strong and fair of face and young enough to be of some use. Thin chuckled to himself as he recalled the hard time they had capturing them...
Some two days earlier
The pirates had gone inland to buy some more ale and maybe get some sport. The sport they had spotted at the bar where they had got supplies from. The bartender, who's name was Nift, was a good man to Thin's reckoning, always willing to share free information and beer at a reasonable price and minimal threatening.
It was the elf that gave them away. If Thin had learned anything over the years it was that elves were lousy at pretending to be men.
This one was so fair that not even a heavy hood could hide him. He stuck close to his human companion. He looked as nervous as a mouse that was making his way through a den of sleeping cats.
"Oi! Nift!" Thin yelled above the din.
"Yes Cap'n?" said the huge man, leaning over the bar.
"'ho are those two then?"
"Which ones Cap'n?"
"The elfling and his pet, over there," he motioned with his head, to the booth where the two had settled.
"Oh, them two. They're trouble them two, a rough bit o' trade that blew in from the north a while back. Don't think the pretty one's much of a threat, but his friend there goes by the name a' Strider. They say he's a Ranger."
Thin snorted, "That figures. And the blond one, what's his name?"
"Uh, hang on a moment Cap'n and let me think, I never was one for foreign names...ah yes: Elrohir son of Elrond is what they said. Some royalty I fancy, as antsy as he always looks in here."
Thin looked thoughtful, "He might be a royal brat at that Nift, but I'd wager my ship that one's no son of Elrond."
Nift stood amazed, "How do you know that?"
"Easy; no whelp of Elrond's was ever blond."
"What? Do ya know this Elrond fellow?"
"Nope," Thin said standing, "It's just a fact, that's all." He grinned, "See ya Nift, thank ye for the ale."