The Unexpected | LotR Fanfiction

Chapter 62

My heart bloomed as he gripped my hand. I bit my lip hard enough to hurt, just to rein in a grin that would no doubt split my face.

Finally, I thought, I can just hold his hand.

His callouses rubbed mine, the warmth of his hand like the most perfect glove. Sure, our hands weren't perfectly molded for each other, but my hand fit in his and we had the same ideals and interests. And we love each other without fault. That's all that matters.

"Where're we going?" We had pulled away from the wagon. Shouldn't we be heading towards the head of the regiment, not back towards the palace?

Legolas answered with a smile.

"Oh, come on, now you have to tell me," I whined. "You can't just smile like that and not explain."

Still, that smiling answer.

I huffed a laugh and settled for silence. But as we continued on, a small seed of giddiness was planted in me, as was a bit of anxiety.

"No need to worry, meleth."

My breath caught as I stopped walking. I turned to him, my eyes searched his face. Meleth.

His thumb ran across the back of my hand as his twinkling blue eyes met mine. "You know my feelings for you, Lum. It shouldn't be much of a surprise now."

I blushed, licked my lips. "T-thank you."

"For what?" he laughed.

I blushed deeper, my face a degree from bursting into flames. "I-I don't know."

"Let's just continue," I said, ducking my flaming face out of sight.

I could feel him refraining a laugh.

After a while through silence, allowing my face to return to its normal temperature, Legolas pulled to a stop.

"The armory?" I asked as I gazed upon row after row after row of weapons and shields and breastplates. Everything in here had a sheen to it, gleaming with the prospect of being used.

He nodded. "I've had something made for you..." his hand broke from mine as he wandered about and went behind a rack of swords. "Here it is."

Through the obscured view I had, I saw his pale fingers caressing something silver—

"My thrandies!" I yelled, running forward and taking them from Legolas' hands. They had the same brilliant gleam, the same awkward length, and the same curve. Perfectly balanced in my hands.

A grin split my face as I looked up at Legolas. "Th—"

His eyebrows were creased and a funny look was imprinted on his face.

"What—oh," I said, tucking hair behind my ear. "I—uh—they remind me of your father's swords so I—uh—named them after him?"

Legolas, after stupidly blinking for a moment, burst out laughing. He gripped the side table as he struggled for breath.

"It's not that funny," I said, returning to my earlier color of red.

"No—no, it's not that. I..." he wheezed, "highly approve of the name."

I cracked an uncertain smile.

"That's just—fantastic," he said, still out of breath as he straightened. "I can only imagine my father's reaction to the name. He might even roar with laughter."

Color drained from my face. "Oh no—please don't tell him!"

That brilliant smile wouldn't leave his face—not that I was complaining—and he shook his head and leaned forward and pecked my cheek.