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Description
The humming in your ears gets louder and your heart skips a beat, your mouth dries and you feel your palms get sweaty.
“You really should rest,” you hear him say coming up behind you. You swallow hard and close your eyes, letting the cool soft wind blow gently in your face. It is refreshing and calms you down slightly.
“A beautiful night such as this one should not be overlooked,” you finally reply, your voice is firm and although your pulse races you appear calm.
The moment is tranquil and for the first time in days your body truly relaxes. You look down at the ground below and you feel freedom burst through the gates in your mind. You sit on the edge of the rock upon the mountain, the ground is far below you, any mortal to fall would surely die. But you are no mortal.
Dangling your legs you seize the opportunity to look over your shoulder at him and instantly you regret it.
Legolas is barely a metre behind you, he is holding his bow close to his chest, gently caressing it. His grand dove white hair blows delicately about his shoulders, you have always loved his hair, it brings a certain inexplicable allure to him. Everything about him draws you in, some nights you desperately want nothing more than to be utterly consumed in all that is Legolas.
You find yourself looking into those crystal blue eyes you know all too well and have to dig deep for self-control. He has that distant gaze in his eyes you rarely get to see, his eyes fall abruptly and then, before you can even comprehend it he is staring right back at you.
Your heart flutters and you can feel the heat intensifying to your cheeks, the cold doesn’t help, and you can just visualize the redness they would be displaying at this very second.
Dammit, how does he manage to do this? Every. Single. Time.
You hastily avert your gaze but you notice out of the corner of your eye the twitch in the corner of his lips and it is as if your heart stops. Legolas seldom ever smiles anymore, when he does it is picturesque.
He closes the distance between you two and lowers himself down, setting his bow carefully beside him. His legs hang down over the brink of the rock, inches from your own and you bite down hard on your lip when his leg rubs ever so faintly against your own.
You realize shortly after that his move was deliberate and you shake your head, cursing yourself silently.
His eyes are fixated on you and you cannot deny the ecstasy of your own awareness.
He still hasn’t replied to you and you struggle to remember what it is you had said. Was it a foolish statement? You pull your brows together and try hard to think when his voice screeches all thoughts to a halt.
“It is indeed marvellous this night,” he murmurs slowly and you feel his eyes drop off you. When you look back at him he is looking off into the distance once more, his head is cocked a tad in your direction.
There is a faint frown on his face and you wonder what thoughts are racing through his mind this second. Is he thinking about you? Or the Orc hunt he is so enthralled in?
You both offer no words but instead relinquish in the tranquillity of the night. He unclasps his hand and places them either side of him. Leaning back he closes his eyes and lets out a minute sigh.
The smile that blossoms on your face is instant and you let out a little chuckle and instantly scold yourself.
His eyes flash open and crystal blue blazes into you. His mouth tilts up at the corners in an almost smile, “What?”
You shrug as if it is scarcely of significance, “You just looked so phlegmatic tis all.”
His eyes are alight with curiosity and a hint of humour, “And why is that amusing?”
You tilt your head in the opposite direction as he and look out into the far-off lands, leaning back on your palms in a similar position as Legolas, “I seldom see you like this, so…” You search for a word and are close to giving up when alas you find it, “unperturbed.”
“Perhaps I am like this regularly, you are just never about when I am,” he teases with an endearing little smirk.
“All-time utmost Orc Hunter and Prince of the Elves, of course he would on no occasion find time to relax,” you joke back with a grin.
Legolas’s smirk softens into a bedazzling smile and you beam back, lost in the moment where it is just you pair in the world. It is the most you have seen him smile in one night since you met. It pains you to realize it but Legolas grows grave and it is getting too infrequent to see a smile and hear his glorious laugh.
There is a warmth spreading in your fingers and you glance down and your eyebrows raise immediately. Legolas’s hand covers yours and your soul calls for his. Every touch is a trace of pure magic.
His fingers fall through the gaps between your own, slipping into an impeccable fit.
“Legolas,” you murmur softly staring at his fingers.
“(F/n),” he whispers back, that one word carrying so much emotion you nearly shatter then and there.
For some foolish reason you feel water pool into your eyes and you know deep down he would never choose a women of your rank. You are but a hunter amongst the troop, you are no princess. Definitely not an elf worthy of a prince.
You glance up slowly, your eyes creeping to meet his. When they do his mouth parts slightly and he lifts his free hand up to your face, cupping it tenderly.
“Don’t weep, sweetling,” he whispers, those immaculate crystals bore into your own (e/c) eyes. Without even so much as a hint he lifts his other hand up to your hair, fingers entwining in your (h/c) locks. Your eyes close at the wonderful sensation, with one hand in your hair and the other cupping your face you feel utter bliss, you move one hand onto his leg and when you reopen your eyes you jerk softly in shock.
His eyes are staring so passionately into yours you feel like you are about to shatter. There is an adoring desire swimming in his facial expression and you don’t even notice when you lean forward.
This moment has been dreamt of in so many ways, now that it is about to happen you have no idea what to do, where to put your hands, where to move, so you simply let him take control.
There is a second of hesitation before he pulls your lips to his and your eyelids flutter shut.
The yearning in the kiss blossoms into an urgent intensity and Legolas shifts closer to you in an attempt to draw you in further.
The hand in your hair snakes down your arm and up again before it dances its route down to your hip.
Following his lead you move your hands to the back of his neck, entwining your fingers together, locking them there.
There is nothing but pure Legolas, the passion in his touches are nearly enough to break you but you miraculously hold yourself together.
The moment is flawless until the shrill cry of the enemy shatters the night’s serenity.
Legolas jerks back instantaneously, and is up on his feet in seconds, bow in one hand and the other he offers to you.
You barely have time to react, you look like a sleepwalker that has just been woken. Shaking off your wistful state you take his hand and launch yourself up hastily.
There is a longing in his features you mirror perfectly, he mouths a word to you and you nod before dashing after him down the rock to where the rest of the troop lay asleep.
That word is seared in your mind and you grin like a fool as you withdraw your sword ready for a fight.
That one word would be all you thought about till this was over.
Later.

Description
The humming in your ears gets louder and your heart skips a beat, your mouth dries and you feel your palms get sweaty.
“You really should rest,” you hear him say coming up behind you. You swallow hard and close your eyes, letting the cool soft wind blow gently in your face. It is refreshing and calms you down slightly.
“A beautiful night such as this one should not be overlooked,” you finally reply, your voice is firm and although your pulse races you appear calm.
The moment is tranquil and for the first time in days your body truly relaxes. You look down at the ground below and you feel freedom burst through the gates in your mind. You sit on the edge of the rock upon the mountain, the ground is far below you, any mortal to fall would surely die. But you are no mortal.
Dangling your legs you seize the opportunity to look over your shoulder at him and instantly you regret it.
Legolas is barely a metre behind you, he is holding his bow close to his chest, gently caressing it. His grand dove white hair blows delicately about his shoulders, you have always loved his hair, it brings a certain inexplicable allure to him. Everything about him draws you in, some nights you desperately want nothing more than to be utterly consumed in all that is Legolas.
You find yourself looking into those crystal blue eyes you know all too well and have to dig deep for self-control. He has that distant gaze in his eyes you rarely get to see, his eyes fall abruptly and then, before you can even comprehend it he is staring right back at you.
Your heart flutters and you can feel the heat intensifying to your cheeks, the cold doesn’t help, and you can just visualize the redness they would be displaying at this very second.
Dammit, how does he manage to do this? Every. Single. Time.
You hastily avert your gaze but you notice out of the corner of your eye the twitch in the corner of his lips and it is as if your heart stops. Legolas seldom ever smiles anymore, when he does it is picturesque.
He closes the distance between you two and lowers himself down, setting his bow carefully beside him. His legs hang down over the brink of the rock, inches from your own and you bite down hard on your lip when his leg rubs ever so faintly against your own.
You realize shortly after that his move was deliberate and you shake your head, cursing yourself silently.
His eyes are fixated on you and you cannot deny the ecstasy of your own awareness.
He still hasn’t replied to you and you struggle to remember what it is you had said. Was it a foolish statement? You pull your brows together and try hard to think when his voice screeches all thoughts to a halt.
“It is indeed marvellous this night,” he murmurs slowly and you feel his eyes drop off you. When you look back at him he is looking off into the distance once more, his head is cocked a tad in your direction.
There is a faint frown on his face and you wonder what thoughts are racing through his mind this second. Is he thinking about you? Or the Orc hunt he is so enthralled in?
You both offer no words but instead relinquish in the tranquillity of the night. He unclasps his hand and places them either side of him. Leaning back he closes his eyes and lets out a minute sigh.
The smile that blossoms on your face is instant and you let out a little chuckle and instantly scold yourself.
His eyes flash open and crystal blue blazes into you. His mouth tilts up at the corners in an almost smile, “What?”
You shrug as if it is scarcely of significance, “You just looked so phlegmatic tis all.”
His eyes are alight with curiosity and a hint of humour, “And why is that amusing?”
You tilt your head in the opposite direction as he and look out into the far-off lands, leaning back on your palms in a similar position as Legolas, “I seldom see you like this, so…” You search for a word and are close to giving up when alas you find it, “unperturbed.”
“Perhaps I am like this regularly, you are just never about when I am,” he teases with an endearing little smirk.
“All-time utmost Orc Hunter and Prince of the Elves, of course he would on no occasion find time to relax,” you joke back with a grin.
Legolas’s smirk softens into a bedazzling smile and you beam back, lost in the moment where it is just you pair in the world. It is the most you have seen him smile in one night since you met. It pains you to realize it but Legolas grows grave and it is getting too infrequent to see a smile and hear his glorious laugh.
There is a warmth spreading in your fingers and you glance down and your eyebrows raise immediately. Legolas’s hand covers yours and your soul calls for his. Every touch is a trace of pure magic.
His fingers fall through the gaps between your own, slipping into an impeccable fit.
“Legolas,” you murmur softly staring at his fingers.
“(F/n),” he whispers back, that one word carrying so much emotion you nearly shatter then and there.
For some foolish reason you feel water pool into your eyes and you know deep down he would never choose a women of your rank. You are but a hunter amongst the troop, you are no princess. Definitely not an elf worthy of a prince.
You glance up slowly, your eyes creeping to meet his. When they do his mouth parts slightly and he lifts his free hand up to your face, cupping it tenderly.
“Don’t weep, sweetling,” he whispers, those immaculate crystals bore into your own (e/c) eyes. Without even so much as a hint he lifts his other hand up to your hair, fingers entwining in your (h/c) locks. Your eyes close at the wonderful sensation, with one hand in your hair and the other cupping your face you feel utter bliss, you move one hand onto his leg and when you reopen your eyes you jerk softly in shock.
His eyes are staring so passionately into yours you feel like you are about to shatter. There is an adoring desire swimming in his facial expression and you don’t even notice when you lean forward.
This moment has been dreamt of in so many ways, now that it is about to happen you have no idea what to do, where to put your hands, where to move, so you simply let him take control.
There is a second of hesitation before he pulls your lips to his and your eyelids flutter shut.
The yearning in the kiss blossoms into an urgent intensity and Legolas shifts closer to you in an attempt to draw you in further.
The hand in your hair snakes down your arm and up again before it dances its route down to your hip.
Following his lead you move your hands to the back of his neck, entwining your fingers together, locking them there.
There is nothing but pure Legolas, the passion in his touches are nearly enough to break you but you miraculously hold yourself together.
The moment is flawless until the shrill cry of the enemy shatters the night’s serenity.
Legolas jerks back instantaneously, and is up on his feet in seconds, bow in one hand and the other he offers to you.
You barely have time to react, you look like a sleepwalker that has just been woken. Shaking off your wistful state you take his hand and launch yourself up hastily.
There is a longing in his features you mirror perfectly, he mouths a word to you and you nod before dashing after him down the rock to where the rest of the troop lay asleep.
That word is seared in your mind and you grin like a fool as you withdraw your sword ready for a fight.
That one word would be all you thought about till this was over.
Later.