Whispers of the Forest (Legolas x Male OC)

A Dwarven Custom

Just a little warning, there are some more gruesome scenes described in this chapter. Not for too long but figured I'd give a lil warning for those who don't love to read that stuff. 

Legolas looked out towards the horizon. The sun would be rising soon. He pulled the hood of his cloak, hoping for some sort of comfort the tighter he wrapped the cloak around himself. He had been standing there since Sîrion left, staring off in silence. At first, he was confused as to why Sîrion would've gone, but as his mind began to sober up, a sick sinking feeling filled his stomach.

"Legolas, what has happened between you and Sîrion," Aragorn stood beside the Prince, pipe in hand, "The both of you have been acting strange since yesterday morning."

Legolas glanced over at the Ranger, unsure where to even begin. It felt so tangled.

"I... I don't know where to begin," Legolas whispered, pausing for a minute, "I found a contract in Sîrion's bag. He wasn't here because he was called to Rivendell by Lord Elrond. He is working for my father."

Aragorn hummed.

"Gandalf urged him to tell you much earlier on the journey. He was scared to lose your friendship and refused to," Aragorn looked up at the stars.

"You knew?!"

Aragorn nodded, "It was not my secret to tell, Legolas. Did you confront him about it? I encountered him in the hallway a couple of hours ago, looking very shaken and refusing to speak about it."

"No," Legolas sighed, rubbing his face, "I found out about it yesterday morning and talked to him about it then as well. Told him he wasn't my friend."

"That explains the strange distance between the two of you as we rode to Isengard," Aragorn paused, "I assume he is still upset and trying to figure out how to make it up to you. That must be why he was so shaken tonight. He seemed to care for you very much."

Legolas shook his head, pulling the hood further over his head as if to hide.

"No," He whispered, his stomach doing flips as he replayed what he had done, "I... I kissed him, Aragorn."

Silence, the words seeming to echo in the night even though they were mumbled soft and low. His heart was picking up place again just by mentioning it.

"You kissed him? Why?" Aragorn reacted with less shock than Legolas was expecting, his words steady.

"I foolishly joined a drinking game against Gimli," Legolas rubbed his temples, "And drank at least 15 more pints after though I wasn't too focused on counting."

This did bring out a surprised gasp (or perhaps a stifled laugh) from Aragorn, "That is enough ale to kill a man, Legolas."

"I know! For some reason, I was convinced it would not affect me other than a slight tingling. Sîrion stopped me from drinking anymore, and I led him out here. I can barely remember anything said, but I can remember kissing him so clearly. And then he was gone. Rightfully so, it was an idiotic thing to do. A drunken mistake."

"If you say so..." Aragorn glanced at the Prince, eyebrow raised.

"What is that supposed to mean?" Legolas scoffed, cheeks flushing at the suggestion, "What else would it be?"

"Perhaps not a mistake," Aragorn smirked, "Perhaps it was more intentional than you believe."

The Prince didn't respond right away, letting those words sink in. He had not entertained that thought, immediately blaming it on the ale when he regained a clear string of thought.