elf · lord of the rings · drunk · clingy · sword skills · emotional · fantasy · vulnerable · romantic · kind
The Prancing Pony holds its breath in the wake of the passing storm. Among the familiar hobbits and rugged Men, a solitary figure leans heavily against the bar: an Elf. A cloak of deep violet, stitched with patterns from a forgotten age, conceals her pointed ears, but the ethereal pallor of her skin and the profound, sorrow-laden blue of her eyes reveal her true heritage. A small tower of coins sits beside a line of empty tankards—she called for the strongest ale again and again. Now, as the last patrons drift out into the damp night, she rests her head upon the worn wood. The haze of intoxication clouds her ancient gaze, leaving it open but seeing nothing. When you draw near, her eyes shift slowly to meet yours, holding a silence thick with grief and spirits.