Middle Earth || OS

41. Legolas | Eventually

Tumblr : averil-of-fairlea

Words: 976 || Characters: Legolas, reader, Aragorn, Gimli || Genre: romance, fluff, angst || 

Legolas' strong arms reach from behind you and pull you to him as his sweet breath cascades down the right side of your neck.

He plants one...two...six, no, seven delicate kisses that follow the curve onto your shoulder, and you lean back, trying to enjoy what may be the last time you feel him do this.

HIs arms are secure around your waist and he won't let go until the absolute last moment he must. This is only a brief break in these misty, dim woods as the four of you search for Merry and Pippin, but he manages to steal a few private minutes while Aragorn and Gimli check around for edible berries and plants.

Legolas senses that you need this embrace, that something is troubling you.

He's felt it for a while, since you both watched Boromir die. But whatever has you so pensive, quiet, and blue goes beyond your grief over your friend. It feels as if you're planning something unpleasant, a dreaded journey, perhaps.

"I think I hear Aragorn and Gimli." You manage to breathe out the words between moans as he travels back up your neck and nibbles your earlobe.

"We wouldn't want to shock them, would we?" he says, slowly pulling away, his hand on you back, guiding you around to face him. You smile weakly.

He studies your face and lets exactly six seconds pass before he asks, "What is it, my love?

You have always been terrible at hiding your feelings, especially the bad ones. But now is the time. You know it.

"Legolas, let me go."

He frowns, not having the foggiest idea what you are talking about, and places his hands on your forearms while looking at you strangely.

"Go where?"

"Let me leave you. Let me be the mortal that I am. Don't get any more involved with me. Don't watch me die."

You might as well have slapped him, hard, across his beautifully chiseled face. Stunned, he stumbles back, his brows still wrinkled.

"That's not going to happen. Not yet. You're a fine warrior, you're young. You have a very long time before that happens."

This is what you were dreading: the denial, the pain. A quick getaway in the middle of the night would have been easier, but wrong in so many ways. Not even leaving a note would have been enough. Legolas would have followed you, getting separated from Aragorn and Gimli for far longer than he should.

"Legolas, I saw how you looked when Boromir fell."

"Not even an Elf would have survived that, my darling."

"The point is, he was mortal. I am mortal. Eventually, my sun will set. Why not spend your eternity with someone who never faces the dusk, someone like you? That's what I want for you."

Just then, Aragorn and Gimli approach from a over a hill, huffing a bit as the steep descent quickens their footsteps.

"There you are," Aragorn says, instantly knowing that he and the Dwarf have walked in on a strained moment. "We found some chicory. But we should keep moving." He waves you both toward him and begins tramping along the leaf-lined path, Gimli close behind, taking quick glances at what appears to be the end of a lovers' quarrel.

You stay perfectly still, though your heart is beating so hard and the pressure behind your eyes is building so fiercely that it feels like both will knock you to the ground.

Legolas takes your hands in his. "Come. Please don't do this."

You look past him, and see that Aragorn is already a good distance ahead, with Gimli jogging to keep up. You grab your pack from the ground and sling it on your back.

"Tell my friends I will miss them, and that I am sorry."

You don't even have the strength to kiss him, much less look at him. So you turn away and head off in the opposite direction, refusing to cry, slow down, or stop. Should you come across any evil, you must save your energy for fighting. That's what you repeat, to block out the screaming in your head.

A few minutes into your escape, you can't resist turning around, getting one last glimpse of him, even if it's just his brilliant hair. To see it one last time, to remember running your fingers through it softly as he slept, taking in its honey scent and delighting in the silky feel.

Just once more, you tell yourself.

But when you look, Legolas has not moved from where you left him.

"Legolas, what are you doing?!" you shout angrily.

"Watching the sun," he calls.

You grit your teeth. "This is not a joke, Legolas!"

He says nothing, just keeps looking at you.

You can't remember the last time you stomped like an angry spoiled child not getting her way. Head leaning forward and teeth bared as you clomp closer, you hope Legolas comes to his senses before you knock the wind out of him, which you fully intend to do. But he sweeps you into his arms before you can do any damage.

You don't resist; it feels too good. It feels too right. In fact, this togetherness feels perfect, but it shouldn't. He is going to live forever, and you are not. It's imbalanced. This relationship spells heartbreak.

But - heaven help you and all your logic - so does being apart.

"I know the sunset is coming. I dread that it's coming. But it can't stop me from falling deeper in love with you. I am not afraid of it," Legolas whispers, looking into your teary eyes.

Resting your cheek against his chest and putting your arms around him, you admit: "I am."

"Then I will hold your hand at sunset, and at every sunrise, until then," Legolas says, stroking your hair and kissing the top of your head. He eases back until he's gazing at you again. "There is nothing I would rather do, as long as we're together."

"But don't you want to share the greatest gift anyone could ask for, your immortality, with another immortal? Someone you can always be with?"

"Oh, Melethril,don't you know?" He kisses your lips lightly and rubs noses with you."You are the greatest gift."