A Fictional Party – The Elf And The Pirate

“I love parties!”  Legolas grinned as he looked around at the faces turned towards him in rapt attention.  “I love attention!”  The girls in the group giggled, as did some of the boys.  “I love champers!”  A couple of girls dashed off to find him a full glass.  “I love canapés!”  Another couple of girls accosted a passing waiter.  “I love butterflies!”  This time, a few puzzled looks were exchanged.  “I love parties!”  Back to the admiring looks and shy giggles.

“Yeah, so then I said ‘Elizabeth, I should have told you every day from the moment I met you, I love you.’  And she said ‘Oh, I thought you knew….I’m gay!’  Well – you could have knocked me down with a feather.  Turns out, she had only said yes to Norrinton’s proposal so she could get off with his sister!”  Will Turner cast his eyes downwards to convey his sadness at losing the love of his life.  Well, he called her the love of his life, but really this story was just a great way to pick up chicks.  He hadn’t been all that upset that Elizabeth didn’t return his feelings.  In fact, he got over it pretty quickly as soon as he learned that this tale of woe was a ticket to get into any female’s bed.  All the girls love to nurse a man’s heart, and who was he to deny them that pleasure?

Legolas all but skipped as he made his way to the bar.  “More champers!”  He bounced up and down as he waited for the barman to pour his drink.  He turned to look at the evening’s guests.  He nodded greeting to a few people, waved at some others, grimaced when he saw Haldir was there.  That elf was so snooty!  Legolas surmised it was because Haldir knew he wasn’t the prettiest elf.  “I love being pretty!”  He said to the barman and skipped away with his drink.  He stopped skipping when he realised that his champers was now dribbling down his hands.  He licked the drink off his hands, pink tongue snaking between his fingers and around his wrist.  This was of course a completely calculated move – and it had the desired effect on those around him.  A sea of eyes watched as cat-like, he groomed himself.  Gasps and moans punctuated the stilted conversations as Legolas once again found himself to the centre of attention.  Legolas grinned to himself.  “I love being sexy!”

Will was suddenly aware that the attention he had been enjoying had been drawn elsewhere.  He followed the gazes and saw Legolas, making a shameful display of himself.  Although Will had so far attended a few of these gatherings, he had so far managed to avoid talking to Legolas.  There was something about the elf he found to be discomfiting.  Perhaps it was because he viewed Legolas as the main competition.  Perhaps it was because Legolas was the only competition.  Or, perhaps it was because Legolas gave Will that funny feeling in his tummy.

Legolas became aware of a different set of eyes on him.  These eyes weren’t admiring, or lusting after him.  They were scrutinizing him.  He peered back at the dark eyes, daring them to look away.  They didn’t.  Legolas shrugged.  He was an elf – and as such was eternally patient.  He slept with his eyes open, he could surely out-stare a human.  The intensity of the human’s scrutiny never wavered, although his eyes quickly flicked to take in the rest of Legolas, not just his eyes.  Legolas found himself doing the same, appraising the human.  Legolas wasn’t too good with names, but he recalled that this character was some sort of criminal.  An involuntary shiver rolled down his spine.  These parties were open to all characters, good or evil.  There was usually an accord – there would be no spell-casting, kinslaying, murdering, poisoning or general misbehaviour.  A few scuffles occasionally broke out, but where alcohol was involved, that was to be expected.  Still, Legolas was uncomfortable with being examined so thoroughly by a pirate.

“Pretty boy, elf.”  Will grumbled.  “Nasty pirate!”  Legolas muttered.  A hush fell on the room.  “Did you just call me a pirate?”  Will’s voice remained quiet, but there was no mistaking the dangerous tone.  “You called me a pretty boy!”  Legolas whined.  He did not like where this was going.  One of them was going to lose face here, and it certainly couldn’t be him.  “You are a pretty boy!”  Will squawked.  “Well, yes!  But you say it as though it were a negative thing.”  Legolas pouted.  He had the feeling he was going to lose this argument.  This called for drastic action.  He mentally flipped through his repertoire of endearing actions and hit upon the perfect solution.  His bottom lip began to quiver.  “Oh!”s and “Aw!”s rippled through the observers.  Legolas allowed a single tear to trail down his pinked cheek and drip down from his perfectly sculpted jaw line. 

Will sighed.  This nancing little pretty boy elf had successfully managed to make him the villain with his pretence.  At least, Will was sure it was pretence.  As Legolas morosely sniffed, Will felt pangs of guilt.  “Look, I’m sorry.  You’re right, you are very pretty and that’s definitely not a negative thing.  In fact, I’d go as far as to say you’re beautiful.”  Uh-oh!  What had he said?  A ghost of a smile played around the elf’s lips as he once more looked into Will’s eyes.  “Really?”  Will nodded.  “I love being called beautiful!”  All at once the tears stopped and Legolas was once more his bouncing self.  The crowd breathed a sigh of relief and resumed their various conversations.

Legolas bounced over to Will, again sloshing his champagne onto his hand.  He stuck out his drenched hand for Will to shake.  “Legolas!”  Will took the soggy mitt and gripped it.  “I’m Will – and I’m not a pirate.  I’m a blacksmith.”  He looked at his champagne sodden hand.  “Thanks.”  Legolas grinned and grabbed Will’s wrist.  “So, you like swords then?”  Legolas asked, bringing Will’s hand up to his mouth.  He started to clean Will in much the same way as he had done to himself earlier.  This time it wasn’t for the affect it had on the crowd.  It was for Will’s benefit alone.  Will gasped as one by one, Legolas sucked every last drop of champagne from his fingers.  “Yeah…uh….swords are good.”  He managed to splutter.  “I’ve got a great collection of Elven swords at home.  Wanna come and see them?”  Legolas began to plant tiny kisses around Will’s wrist and up his arm.  “Oh, and I have some more champers, too!”  Will gulped and replied with the only possible answer.  “Grab your cloak, mate.  You’ve pulled!”

The end.