A View From The Side

She preferred to sit in corners, dark ones suited her best.
The dark part was because the habitually rowdy lights of tavern common rooms stung her eyes, which were an odd silver colour, and acted more like a night bird’s than an elf’s.
The corner part was so that she could watch the room. She didn’t trust or like most people, but she held a quiet fascination with observing them. Introverts like herself held little interest to her, their ways and manners mirrored those of her own shaded soul. The last thing in the world she wanted to do was continue dredging along within the bounds of her own grey toned ideals.

The extroverts delighted her, she was enamoured by their ability to thrive with everyone’s eyes on them. She couldn’t admit she wanted it, though she wished that she wished for it, but they lived in a world of colours that would ultimately only sting her eyes, however beautiful the tones.
There was one individual up at the bar this night who was commanding her gaze above the others. He had just sauntered in a couple minutes ago as if he was finally home, though a portable mercenary tavern made from mud caked canvas and water logged lumber was hardly a home.

His eyes were strikingly blue, bright and warm, they scanned the room for nothing but an equally friendly gaze. He was new here, knew no one here, but took mere moments to join a group of off duty mercenary soldiers in drink and play. Moments after joining he was ordering rounds and making toasts. Moments after that he was surrounded by other people, telling some sort of dashing tale, ending in an uproar of cheers and mirth. His laugh wasn’t overly loud, but it chimed through the room like a soothing undertone.

And he just kept laughing, the sound soothed her aching bones and soul alike.  She closed her oddly coloured eyes and allowed small, crooked to the right smile to crease her face. That was when his blue orbs fell through the crowd on to her and her tiny, crooked, smile. He couldn’t see her eyes as they were cast down, hidden under long lashes and one lock of long, impossibly black hair.

She was seated in the darkest corner of the room, inky hair encroaching an angular shaded face, the smallest of expression played across it. Her hands were softly wrapped about the stem of a wine glass half filled with a deep red wine. He admired her long thin fingers and the way the neatly weaved between themselves and the glass. She was seated alone, he wondered if she had been there long.

A clap on his shoulder turned his attention to his current companions.
As his eyes turned from her, her’s returned to him.

He was elvish, when he turned his head to regard the group he had befriended she saw the series of small hooped earrings climbing up his pointed right ear. Six earrings. Above his ear was an odd haircut.

Unlike most elvish males his hair was shaved short against his scalp except for a thick strip across the top center of his head. Lighting white blonde hair flopped down just above his eyes and down to the base of his neck. He didn’t appear to be of any extraordinary height, some were taller than him, he was taller than others. His build was typically elvish, all lean muscle with little bulk. He stood with a confidence and ease to suggest he was in total control of his body. His back was straight, but he leaned casually against the bar. On his waist he wore a belt from which two hand axes hung, blades sheathed for the night. She was certain come daylight, he knew exactly how to use those weapons, but they were an odd choice of weapon for an elf, as they usually favoured long blades.
Odd hair, odd weapons. This figure was wholly intriguing.

The motion of the door to the tavern swinging open grabbed caught her attention. A human man entered, one she recognized. A young soldier who, despite his skittish nature seemed to keep sticking around camp. He scanned the whole room, eyes passing over the Lighting Figure as though he wasn’t a thing worth noting, before locking in on her own gaze. His shoulders slumped and he mouthed the word “finally” and marched over to her.

“I’ve been looking for you everywhere! I can safely say this is the last place I would think to find you...” he glanced around the room again as he pulled up a chair across from her. She sat back and raised one brow, arms folding across her chest. He flushed and cleared his throat.

“...P- probably why this is the last place I looked, I was actually just coming in to see if anyone had seen you. But you know... here you are.” He gestured and chuckled nervously.
“Do you need something, soldier?” she asked, not bothering to mask her annoyance at his presence.

“Uh, I don’t, no.” He sat back a little farther under her intense and unimpressed gaze. “But the Captain does, h-he sent me to find you.”

“What does he want?”

“No idea, when the Captain barks, I fetch. I don’t ask questions. He wants to see you. I’ve been trying to find you for almost an hour, but then I guess that’s a good thing... since it’s your job to be sneaky, or stealthy or uh, you know...scout-y… and such. H-He’s buried under a mound of maps in his tent.” He looked away from her, trying to catch a break from her devilishly haunting eyes and took a deep breath.

“He’s not in a patient mood, I would suggest you get there sooner than later.” His brown eyes never quite made it back up to her silver ones.

She sighed then took a deep drink of her wine.

“I’m not scared of his moods.” She put the glass down, stood, and left the tavern without another word. Just one last glance in the direction of the Lighting Figure.

“Yeah but I’m scared of you.” The soldier muttered to her back. A wry crooked smirk found her face again.

And bright blue eyes followed her every step out the door.