Repudiate || legolas

𝟑

𝐃𝐨𝐞𝐬 𝐡𝐞 𝐝𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐞?

"I don't belong, Legolas,"

"Yes, you do, Trevad... we will get through this."

"I- I don't, and you know this... Your father hates me for what softness I bring you," he said softly, looking at legolas. "I wish I could remove everything that makes me an elf and live bound to nothing other than you. I have never been in your father's favor, for my meer existence is an inconvenience to his iron fist,"

"Trevad..." legolas said as he finished the braid he was working on kissing the tips of Trevads ear, for the brown haired elf wished to hold off the lips touching. It was a courting braid. Despite the disprovel, they still stayed in a never-ending courting. "Even If you were to... remove those things or become a twisted being. I will still love you. For you are everything to me,"

Trevad got behind legolas on the bed. As he started to work in the courting braids. Tear stained cheeks. "Promise? If I am bansihed one day, you will remember me, " he said, starting the braid.

"Of course,"

_______________________________________

Awarthon looked much less scary in the light, his sword at his side, having trimmed some of his hair with the help of the hobbit he had leanred was called bilbo, to make it look nicer, slicking it back with a sort of wax from bees. Hobbits seemed to be comfortable with the wavy hair he had. His trimmed ears ever present. His eyes were wild with the excitement of venturing to what he called home many, many years ago. Where his love stayed safely away from him. Leading slightly behind Gandalf, he held onto his horse. Arriving, he jumped off his horse with a grace known to elves but still, a slight haphazardly with getting his belongings off of the horse he had for years.

The journey was about a week of riding to the edge of mirkwood. It was peaceful and uneventful, but he made great company with the hobbit. They were both oustiders and related to wanting to help out of the goodness of it. Even if Awarthon had to, he never had a true home. Maybe he could give thesw dwarves something he lacked. Supprizingly, thorin even took a liking to Awarthon. Maybe it is the fact the hobbit seemed to like Awarthon that made thorin like him. Awarthon had taken a keen notice of how close Biblo and Thorin seemed to be.

"Move my stuff to Awarthon's horse," Gandalf commanded, and Awarthon obliged.

"Are you leaving Master Gandalf?" Awarthon asked softly a bit worried once he got onto his horse. For if Gandalf was there, there was a chance at diplomacy.

"For now, Cursed one... for now. Thorin is in charge of this party. Do not use your magic unless absolutely necessary, for it will only attract more darkness into you," he warned softly before trotting away.

"Magic?" bofer asked curiously, having overheard. "Cursed?"

The male nodded slightly, "it's not a nice magic like my masters. It hurts me, I only cast if I have to," he said softly to the kind dwarf who he had taken a liking to. They started into the forest. "It's from a curse," he added. "But don't worry... I have learned to control it," Awarthon said before making a small flower out of nothing. He handed it to the dwarf who put it in his pocket with an amused expression.

...

Awarthon was doing his best to lead them down the passages of the forest trails he wandered so long ago with the prince. Though the darkness of the forest was screaming at the warlock who entered. The company was growing weary and lightheaded. It felt as if oxygen was being taken out of their lungs. The world spinning from the steam of the water. Walking in circles, unknowingly. Then, spiders. Again. Spiders seemed to follow him as they attacked with Radagast, and now this. He had encountered more Spiders than he had actually encountered orcs at this point. It was all a blur.