𝟐𝟏

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The question laid heavy on the air for a moment. To wed was a very serious decision. They had known they wanted such things, for it was a very important thing for when they decided to go to Valinor or are set there upon death. With death and a wedding between, they will be set to know wherever their love is. A bond between them that will only grow stronger. Awarthon knew he wanted to wed Legolas. But time for them felt so cramped up. So held together by mortal concepts of rushing. "Legolas..."

"Awarthon, we have had thousands of years, and I'm sure in that time, we have completed plenty of rituals of courting long over due. All we would need is the... well, final parts. We can do it in private. Pledge to each other here... by the fire alone as I know you never like a crowd," The words were sweet and felt heavy on his heart.

The quiet and intensity of the conversation were cut with Bilbo opening his door down the hall. It was still confusing, for he had just got Legolas back, and now Legolas was ready after he waited all this time. Was it truly fair that he was being childish and petty now. Awarthon got down from the counter, grabbing his hot tea as he headed to the couch. He wore lounge wear. Loose flowing green pants with a flowing burgundy shirt that belled at the sleeve cuffs. He felt childish as he heard from the other room that Bilbo asked Legolas what had just transpired. What made Awarthon seem to crawl into his bubble of inability to think or speak. It frustrated him when this happened. When he felt like it was impossible to speak without straining himself. He couldn't handle adult conversations with his beloved for a thousand and a half years.

He couldn't seem to talk even when Bilbo sat next to him. All he could do was watch the fire and listen to the Starr of commotion of construction outside. "Is this one of your... states?" Bilbo asked awkwardly. It was an attempt to try to mend whatever happened between the two private elves. And well, Hobbits knew quite the deal of drama and of relationships. Awarthon just shrugged, which to Bilbo was a yes, "Okay... was it beacuse of one of your sense?" Awarthon shook his head again and shrugged.

This time, he managed to speak. "Emotions," is all he could say. It's not that he couldn't speak. He knew fully well he could articulate what needed to be said. But this wasn't that. He knew to be firm, attack, and be confident in those regards. But to reopen past talks of love and courting seemed so new again. And well, he shut down. "I don't like being in love. It's a lot of feelings. Sometimes my heart beats so fast, I feel like I'm going to vomit. I'm talking to you as if I'm not thousands of years older than you," he sighed softly at his immaturity.

"But I got one thing I know. Love. I well.... you know that I... Love. Love Thoirn, dearly. And I regret leaving him. Unlike you and Legolas. We don't have forever to have such regrets go unamended." He said awkwardly adjusting in his chair. They both very much struggled with saying what they felt and tended to get awkward about it. "Well. I guess what I'm trying to say is. What ever happened back in that kitchen. Will you regret it?" Bilbo advised and looked at his pocket where the ring hid.

Silence filled the room once more. Awarthon just played with the end of his braid, "I would. I am just being immature," he sighed, hating how self-aware he had been. "I mearly keep him waiting for how he kept me," Awarthon rested his head on the couch, his legs tucked close to his chest as the tea he drank steamed. "I just feel hurt still. Legolas barely let go of his father's iron fists. Not when his father denied me or arrested me. But it took him losing me for 500 Yeats for him to give a shit about me. Pardon my language, Bilbo," he said, coving his mouth at the slip of a profanity.

"Awarthon..." Legolas spoke in a sorrowful tone at the realization of what he may have caused in Awarthon. In all truthfulness. Awarthon was right. He did always pick his father over him. Of course, he would defend Awarthon, but Thranduil had the final say. Even if logically it made sense, Legolas never thought of the emotional feeling Awarthon had whenever he would watch him give in. He wore brown linen pants and a green tunic the same color as Awarthons pants and wore his hair in a similar style but down loosely under the braid.

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