Feä Bond (Legolas x OC)

Hope

A graceful form landed behind her but Frances did not even flinch as she recognised the discreet brushing of the leather boots and the sweet pine scent that filled the air.

"Checking up on me master elf?" she teased while watching the silvery light caress his vibrant hair.

"Hoping that you would rest was a dream, but watching your dance in the moonlight stands no equivalent."

The young woman stood silent, eyes wide. Did he really mean it, he who was ten times as graceful as she? In truth, she was astonished that such an ethereal being could find her clumsy moves worthy to watch, and express liking in it. Yet, she knew the elf to be ever truthful. Never had she caught him lying.

"Thanks, Legolas," she whispered,

Her voice was trembling, the uneasiness calling forth some uncontrollable emotions. Ever since Edoras, Frances had abandoned reasoning over her feelings and decided to let things go the way they were meant to be. Was she giving up or blessing destiny she did not know. Struggle could not help either of them, and it was not worth it. Death was upon them. Charlie had her love still, albeit of a different kind. Nothing in her past life came close to the incredible pool of sensation that assailed her each time the elf's blue eyes lingered over her face. Never had she felt so alive, so free. It was without precedent.

When the Prince looked at her so intensely, she felt like a willow tree caught in a mighty typhoon.

Legolas could feel her confusion like a taste on his tongue, and it only rendered his more present. None of them moved, and they stayed there like two marble statues as the stubborn wind flapped her cloak behind her. His scent was surrounding her, and Frances breathed in the subtle harmony of pine trees and spices as it engulfed her into a bubble of sweetness. Her hands were getting cold, and she grasped the edge of the cloak to cover her arms.

However, before she could bury them into the grey wool warm fingers encased her own. Frozen in place, Frances held her breath while Legolas hesitatingly offered his other hand. His eyes were so deep, his hair shining like a silvery waterfall. Then he took one step closer, and very soon engulfed her in a hug.

Frances' breath caught in the throat; her eyes closed at once. Legolas felt so warm, his body touching hers intimately, his hand shyly sliding to her waist to embrace her small frame. Sighing, Frances buried her face into his shoulder, relishing in the sweet smell of his tunic. Her cold nose burnt at the contact of his throat, but there was nothing in the world that felt better than his closeness.

In his arms, surrounded by him, she felt safer than she had ever been. For a few blissful moments, she almost forgot that death was coming. And after days of incertitude Frances finally knew that if the road had to end her sole consolation would be to rest by his side. Legolas shuddered, overwhelmed by the raw emotion that coursed through his veins. His slight trembling surprised them both, causing them to separate.

"Are you cold Legolas?"

The way she said his name felt like warm water running over slippery rocks, the sensation of sweetness intense but gone in an instant. There was so much reverence put in this simple statement that it always seemed unique, and the foreign sonorities rolled on her tongue, reminding him of her inaccessibility.

"Nay my lady," he whispered softly, his face confused. "Our kind scarcely feel the cold..."

The fire of her soul was so bright that it blinded him totally, occulting the tranquil aura of the elves in favour of a consuming brasier that he may not survive. But it didn't matter anymore; Legolas had made up his mind and pushed the guilt away. If the lady wanted to be his for the little time they had left to live then he would commit to her in any possible way.