"If you don't lower that lute, turn about and leave my presence, dear bard... I shall find pleasure in showing you just how much my thorns can sting..." Eliziath said, her voice disturbingly calm, if not even cold. All the while her eye would be set for the bard's figure in an equally sharp stare. Though it took a few moments for the bard to react, as if freezing for a second, he would eventually send her a glare before running away. And good was that. Eliziath then resumed her posture, lowering herself upon the fountain's edge, soon setting her attention towards her own reflection in the water's glistening surface.
"For what it's worth... I'm sorry for his behaviour..." the voice sounded sincere, coming from her right. Instead of bothering to raise herself again she simply located the source upon the surface of the restless water. Áre, seemingly. "It is not your place to apologize for this fool I regret ever meeting... How's life treating you, Áre?" she proceeded, though her voice and stare unchanged - still affected by the bard's bothersome tunes. Áre let out a hearty chuckle; "Life's good... Life's good... What about you?" he asks in return, Eliziath only rolling her eye back while throwing at him the answer "Honestly? I could've been far better but who am I to complain, things could've been far wo--"
Eliziath and Áre alike almost stumbles forth into the fountain, as the sound of a wild bagpipe emerges from behind. While Áre's quick to step back, mumbling something about not helping the unfortunate bard out of this one scenario, Eliziath's got her dagger at hand before the madman even had the chance to blink. She flips the dagger, clasping its edge firmly inbetween two fingers before hoisting her hand, slinging it towards the bard, or the bagpipe in particular. It all happened so fast, the bard first understanding what happened when it was already too late. In light content Eliziath pursed her lips at the sound of air slipping out of the instrument due to the puncture. Yet even so her overall expression would be much like before; a mask of calm and cold.
This only seemed to anger the already frenized man further, in rage he threw both bagpipe and dagger straight back towards Eliziath, if anything distracting her for a five seconds while recovering from the impact. By the time her focus resumed upon the scenery, the bard was fighting to avoid being thrown into the fountain by Áre who seemingly had stepped into the frey during her brief absence. Not really willing to waste any more time on this, Eliziath suddenly leaps onto the fountain's edge, leaping in behind the bard for to place one dagger upon his back, another one by his throat. Only a fool would even try to remove in such a restraining position. Meaning that he actually did move. While her right hand was ripped off his throat, her left hand thrusted forth and drove her dagger straight into his back - luckily for him not dividing his miserable spine. Amazingly the crazed guy didn't even seem to notice, grasping her shoulder and hair alike, pulling her down before bolting off only to be stopped brutally by Áre who had by then recovered from a past punch to the jaw.
While the two of them faught in a manner worse than what Eliziath would imagine for a fist fight between hobbits to be, she simply seated down upon the edge of the well, eying her bloody left dagger up and down - knowing well that the poor bard would soon come to a sudden halt. Though also sweeping a soothing hand across her head, every hair-root surely ached by now. Needless to say she turned out to be right. The bard suddenly halted, and as if feeling something crawl along his back and leg, he tilted his head back only to notice a crimson trail from his back to his very feet, drenching the fabric of his attire. Another glare was then sent her way, before his eyes rolled back... And he fainted...
Áre had already abandoned the scene, walking towards his lass. And soon Eliziath decided upon leaving as well, finding the smoke pouring up from above the Mess Hall a fine excuse for leaving the possibly dying man behind to bleed upon the street. Without doubt the guards would handle his care...
