The golden plains of Rohan stretched out endlessly, bathed in the light of the setting sun. The Fellowship had been riding for days, but now that they had a brief moment of rest, everyone was grateful for a break. The horses grazed peacefully, and the group had scattered around the camp, taking in the quiet.
You, an elf from Rivendell, stretched your arms, sore from the long ride. Beside you, Legolas dismounted his horse effortlessly, his usual grace on full display. You’d known him long enough to recognize the familiar glint in his eyes.
“So,” he began, his voice teasing, “either Rivendell didn’t teach you how to hit a target, or it’s that wind in Rohan. What’s going to be your excuse?”
You shot him a side-eye but smiled, feeling the friendly rivalry flare up again. Since joining the Fellowship, Legolas had never missed an opportunity to challenge you—and you were never one to back down.
“I don’t need excuses,” you replied, adjusting your bow on your shoulder. “Do you want me to prove it?”
The others overheard and quickly gathered. Merry and Pippin, of course, were the most excited at the prospect of any competition, while Gimli, sitting on a rock, let out a hearty laugh. “Ah, more elf games! I say give us a show!”
You gave Legolas a look that dared him to continue. “What do you say, Mirkwood? Are you ready to be embarrassed?”
He smirked, folding his arms. “I never lose.”
“Not what I heard last time in Lothlórien,” you shot back, causing the hobbits to snicker.
“All right,” Aragorn called from where he was sharpening his blade. “Save your arrows for the real enemies. But this should be interesting.”
Despite the playful teasing, the contest was short and sweet. Both of you shot well, as expected, but the results were clear—Legolas’ final arrow missed your dead-center mark by a hair.
“I guess Mirkwood isn’t so perfect after all,” you said, barely able to hide your grin.
Legolas inspected the targets, his lips twitching into a smile. “It appears,” he began with exaggerated slowness, “that Rivendell has won today.”
He turned to face you, his eyes shining with admiration and a hint of something warmer. There was a pause, and the others, sensing the moment, began to drift away to give you some space.
“You’re not going to pout about losing, are you?” you teased lightly, nudging him with your shoulder as the two of you walked away from the makeshift range.
Legolas chuckled, the sound low and almost too close. “No, I’m simply… reevaluating my strategy for next time.” His gaze lingered on you for a second too long, and you felt your heart quicken. The breeze caught strands of your hair, brushing them into your face, and without thinking, he reached out and tucked them behind your ear.
The simple gesture was enough to make your breath catch.
“You know,” he said quietly, stepping closer so only you could hear him, “you surprise me, (Y/N).”
You raised an eyebrow, trying to keep the teasing tone even though your pulse had suddenly sped up. “Surprise you how?”
Legolas hesitated for a heartbeat, then spoke softly, “Not just with your skill in battle.”
Your cheeks warmed, though you tried to play it off with a grin. “Is this your way of admitting defeat?”
“Perhaps,” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper now. His eyes searched yours, his usual teasing tone replaced with something more serious, more tender.
You felt a pull between the two of you, something unspoken, something that had been there in every playful jab and challenge, but had never been put into words. Not until now.
Before you could fully process what was happening, Legolas leaned in. It was soft, barely there at first—a tentative brush of lips, as though he was waiting to see if you’d pull away. When you didn’t, the kiss deepened just slightly, warm and gentle.
It felt like a moment that had been coming for a long time.
When you finally pulled back, your foreheads still touching, you smiled. “So, what now? Another contest?”
Legolas laughed quietly, his breath still warm against your skin. “I think you’ve won enough for today.”
The breeze picked up, but neither of you moved, content in the quiet moment shared between you. You glanced over at the others, seeing Merry and Pippin pretending not to stare while Aragorn gave you a knowing look from across the camp. Gimli seemed too busy sharpening his axe to notice, but you couldn’t be sure.
You sighed, stepping back slightly, though not quite out of his reach. “We should probably get back before the hobbits start making bets on what happens next.”
“Let them bet,” Legolas said with a quiet chuckle. His hand grazed yours for just a moment before he pulled away fully, but the warmth lingered.
As you rejoined the others, the gentle teasing resumed, but you hardly heard any of it. Your heart was still racing, and Legolas, walking beside you, seemed equally as affected.
Perhaps Mirkwood didn’t win today—but you both had earned something far more important.
YOU ARE READING
Lotr oneshots
Fanfiction-REQUESTS ARE OPEN- This is a lotr oneshot book. I will write oneshots with: Legolas, Aragorn, Boromir, Faramir, and some other charackters, also from the Hobbit.
