'Legolas son of the great eleven king Thranduil and heir to the throne of the woodland realm, seemed to have everything that any sane elf, human or even dwarf would wish for: He had strength that captivated and inspired those around him, a personali...
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The pic above is what Iapetus looks like - I know he's Scorpion but ahhh he deserved better so I'm kidnapping him into this story Also I changed the cover ...................................................
~previously~
Legolas momentarily looked to the ground before he forced a smile of his own upon his face "No..." He somewhat snapped, the tone in which he said it in causing Tauriel to frown "...Let's just get going" He said, despite the nerves thought his body pleading otherwise.
Iapetus nodded from a further distance away and he picked up the bag that lay at his side. Tauriel gave him a concerned look, though Legolas paid it no mind and they proceeded with their journey.
~ 3rd person PoV:
Iapetus nodded from a further distance away and he picked up the bag that lay at his side. Tauriel gave him a concerned look, though Legolas paid it no mind and they proceeded with their journey.
~
As the morning gradually melted to midday, the delicate rays of sunlight trickling through the grey clouds cowered away from the sun's piercing gaze to reveal what secret lay behind. comparable to the way red curtains open upon a stage to introduce a new scene awaiting in a play.
The sky became sliver-white and the sunlight a diffuse glow, the warmth tempting them into its embrace, nuzzling the exposed skin on their faces as a person would cradle their loves face to reduce their worries. So intimate, so empathetic.
To Legolas however, the affection illustrated from the sun infuriated him no less than the destination ahead, the sensation of the humid air painting his skin with warm fingertips rendered his hair to stand on end. The warmth too hot, the feeling too dull.
It became equivalent to the sensation produced by settling too close to a fire for comfort on a cold winter night. The supposedly fake affection presented by the sun stimulated a sour feeling within the pit of his stomach as if its golden rays, peeking through the parting clouds like thin streaks of hair, deliberately deprived him of the appreciation that it blatantly proposed to anyone else.
Legolas gently cast towards the horizon, leaf-coloured shoes crunching the dead grass beneath their feet as they advanced, the crispy sound of the shards breaking comparable to waves crashing against the shore amidst a rough storm. The sound briefly cleared Legolas's disturbed mind, unwanted thoughts evacuated from his mind to be replaced with that one insignificant sound that could do a favour more important to him than any of the others presented over previous days.
Then his heart jolted, body stiffening as he carefully examined the horizon, wide eyes decorated with a thin layer of moisture that distorted his piercing gaze. In the distance, an immaculate structure stood, adorned entirely in a kind of white equivalent to the clouds above their heads. The glow of the sun against it almost made it seem like a ray of sunlight on its own, yet it was anything but that in Legolas's eyes.
