Whispers of the Forest (Legolas x Male OC)

As You Wish

The paper floated to the floor, landing at Legolas' feet. At first, the Prince felt nothing. His mind simply went silent, and a numbing buzz filled his arms. He stood unmoving, the breath taken from his chest, and he was suddenly very aware of the blood rushing in his ears. He picked the paper back up, re-reading the lines. A contract of protection. This couldn't be Sîrion's. He must've read it wrong. His eyebrows furrowed as he read one line over and over. Sîrion Erynnothlir promises to protect the Prince of Eryn Lasgalen, Legolas Thranduilion, until King Thranduil Oropherio releases him of this duty or Prince Legolas returns to Eryn Lasgalen safely. The urge to rip the paper apart crashed down over Legolas, but he resisted, taking a deep breath to try soothing the anger rushing through his veins. It was all a lie. The close friendship he thought he had with the listener was shattering before him, cultivated by none other than the Elven King, who couldn't seem to keep his damn hands off of Legolas' life. The Prince picked up the bag, shoving the contract back inside and briskly walking back to the other elf. He glared at the floor as thoughts rushed through his mind of all the things Sîrion did with him...no... was forced to do because of this contract. He doubted the listener actually wanted to ride with him but needed to, so it was easier to 'protect' him. Or the late nights sitting together, purely a ploy for some sort of closer relationship so the Prince would place some trust in Sîrion. He passed Gimli and Aragorn in the hall, ignoring their greetings and continuing outside. His knuckles were white as he gripped the satchel strap closely. In all honesty, Legolas didn't know how he was supposed to react or treat Sîrion after finding such information. He stepped over the dead bodies left in the courtyard, pausing just behind the broken wall to take a breath. A moment to try and make sense of everything he found. Around that corner was the last person he wanted to see at this moment. His heart was pounding, his head foggy and chest aching with every shallow breath. He held his breath as he began to walk again, turning the corner to find Sîrion pressing the now torn sleeve of his shirt to the wound.

"You've returned!" Sîrion smiled brightly at the Prince, genuinely happy for his friend to be back.

Legolas felt his face soften at the smile, his chest buzzing with warmth for a single moment before the weight of the satchel bore down on his shoulder, bringing the cold and empty feeling back. He simply nodded to Sîrion, not trusting his voice and sat down beside the other. Sîrion unwrapped his arm, wincing as the torn, bloodied cloth snagged on the jagged wood embedded in his arm. A hollowed sinking hole began to settle in Legolas' chest. Even if the friendship with Sîrion was all a lie... he still very much cared for the listener, and it was his fault Sîrion got hurt. The contract just reinforced this. Legolas set to work removing the arrow in silence, doing his best to do so quickly without causing too much pain. He tossed the arrow to the side, quickly wiping away any blood and bandaging the wound tightly. Sîrion slipped his arm back through his tunic, deciding to change his now torn shirt once inside the fortress again.

"Thank you, Legolas," Sîrion rested his hand on the Prince's knee, noticing how the other tensed up oddly at the familiar gesture.

Legolas simply nodded in return, not knowing what to say or how to confront what he had found. Instead, he stood, deciding walking away would be best for now. He wanted more time to think.

"Legolas?" Sîrion shifted, worry festering in his chest. He grabbed the Prince's hand, stopping the elf from moving any further, "What is wrong?"

Legolas stopped, refusing to turn around. A large lump in his throat.

This Sîrion, this kind elf.. his friend wasn't real. It was an act... how was he supposed to respond? He clenched his jaw.

"What is it, my friend?" Sîrion stood in front of the Prince, who was staring at the ground.