when you ask him to stay the night 𝓣AGS ⁞ gn!reader / human!reader ◞ fluff ◞ cuddling
You and him had gotten lost in conversation. Waning crescent hung high in the sky, embers glowing lazily in the hearth, air full with the melody of shared laughter and your stifled yawns.
Mere seconds after he's turned to make his leave, the tender sting of his hesitant goodnight curls around your heart.
You’d imagined it, turned it over and over in every corner of your mind—his arms around you as you slept. He’s held you close before; on horseback, a secure arm around your waist. Those offers of warmth during unfavourable weather, huddled beneath his cloak. The way he’d reach for your hand with the same unrelenting grip, whether guiding you through busy crowds or wandering open fields of wild flowers.
Always within arms reach. But not like this. Not yet.
“Wait,”
It comes out quick and breathless, a near whisper. But you know he hears you.
He pauses, waiting. Hand curled around the door’s handle, a glance over his shoulder.
“Stay.”
The dim room does little to conceal the glint of surprise in his eyes. He smiles, tender and familiar.
“Of course.”
And it goes like this:
Covers lifting in invitation. The initial stiffness of immortal bones settling on a bed so soft. Loosening when the quiet awkwardness of firsts scatters into the breeze of soft sighs. You sink into his arms. Head on his chest. The beat of his heart like a swan rippling its wings against a pond. Seconds stretching dreamily, the up and down tide of his palm on your back. Shared breaths with hushed talks of tomorrow. Hands interlocking and—“are you comfortable?”
"Yes," he says. And then quietly, just as your eyes grow heavier, hovering the delicate line between dreams and wakefulness, melting deeper into his warmth, “losto vae, gûr-e-gûren.”
Suddenly, in the morning light that arrives too soon. You yawn into your palm, eyes drowsy with sleep. You work to unravel yourself from the covers, and reluctantly, a gentle lift of his forearm to free yourself.
He pulls you back into his arms.
“Legolas,”
Silence. Only the steady ebb and flow of his chest pressed against your back.
You try again. Fail immediately. Reeled back in by his ironclad embrace. His eyes are closed. A low voice, smooth and velvety your ear:
This is from my Legolas fan fiction, called “An unexpected heroine’ which you can find on Wattpad!
Word count: 2.1k
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I recommend listening to, Down Bad by Taylor Swift, while reading this chapter, or She will be loved by Maroon 5.
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"I want every man and strong boy ready to fight by nightfall." King Théoden instructed as he explained the plan. Y/n had never really had much interest in fighting but as she saw all the young boys and men prepare to fight she wondered if she could be of any help. She understood that it was not natural for women to fight, but that didn't stop her from wanting to help. This battle very much needed anyone who was willing to raise a sword.
"Get the women and children into the caves." Théoden told one of his generals. Someone began to protest before he said,
"There is no time, war is upon us!" He yelled as he continued to walk past all the families.
Instead of fighting Y/n helped some of the men and boys with their armour. That is where it leads us to know, Y/n stood before a man, probably 19, only a few years older than herself. She had been trying to help him sort out his armour since he had never worn any before. She continued to strap down the breast plate, as he spoke to her.
"Which lucky guy has you to think of whilst fighting?" He questioned.
"I'm not sure." She replied. The man tilted his head to the side, a knowing grin stretching across his face.
"What about the elf?" He asked.
Y/n snorted at his comment, to hide her flustered expression. She hadn't thought that Legolas would be thinking about her.
"He's just a friend," she laughed.
"You sure about that?" He continued to question her on the topic of Legolas.
Y/n stopped and placed a hand on the man's shoulder, "you're awfully nosy." She said with grin.
"My mother always tells me I am, that's who I've got down in the tunnels, my mam and sister." He sighed.
"They sound like women worth fighting for." She told him, trying to bring up his spirits.
"They are."
"I'm sure your elf friend thinks the same about you though."
A small smile spread across Y/n's face as she patted his shoulder and moved on to helping the next doomed man or boy.
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After helping the last person who asked Y/n for help she walked over to Legolas who was having a conversation with Aragorn and Gimli.
"Their frighten I can see it in their eyes."
Legolas switched to elvish before he said the next part, "as they should be. Three hundred against ten thousand."
"They have more hope to defending themselves here than Edoras...."
"They can not win this fight. They are all going to die!" Legolas yelled.
"Than I shall die as one of them." Aragorn switched back to the common tongue so the men could understand him. Aragorn took of down the corridor.
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Legolas found Y/n walking around on one of the higher levels of helms deep. She was there speaking with Eoywen whilst in search of more blankets for the women and children. At first Legolas watched, just listening to her talk about how she worried she was for everyone. Eoywen tried to convince Y/n that the few blankets she had would be enough for everyone, but Y/n insisted she would find some more. Eoywen departed when she saw Legolas waiting to speak with Y/n.
When Eoywen left Y/n slumped against the door, taking in a large breath.
From across the room Legolas lingered, listening as Y/n muttered to herself.
He had been watching Y/n for a moment, listening to her, not wanting to interrupt her train of thoughts. Though, after a while he did come over, due to the fact he wanted to speak to Y/n.
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Legolas was the one to break the silence,
"You should go to the caves,"
Y/n stared at him for a moment, she really didn't want to leave him. And for a moment she thought about telling him something that only Eoywen knew about.
"I-," She started but stopped herself, looking around she saw children readying to fight to the death. She couldn't tell Legolas her true feelings here.
Legolas gave her a puzzled look.
"I was just about to go." She glanced behind, pointing off vaguely into the distance.
"Just-, good luck," Y/n couldn't believe she fumbled another interaction with Legolas, and as she turned and began to walk away, she could feel his gaze staring holes into the back of her head.
Y/n had told herself she wasn't going to turn around but she did. And to her surprise as she ran back to Legolas he looked happy at the fact she came back.
She threw her arms round him, pulling him into a hug which he accepted most graciously.
She had face tucked into the crook of his neck as she spoke,
"Don't go," she breathed into his neck.
"I have to," he replied, his face resting over her shoulder.
"No, you don't." She reiterated.
"You know I do, my love."
She took a deep breath before uttering the words that had plagued her mind for so long.
"I can't lose you in the way I lost Boromir."
Legolas froze for a moment, thinking of how he could possibly reply. A reply that would soothe her nerves.
"I'm going to come back to you." He vowed, and he would, even if it was the last thing he would ever do.
With his chin still rested atop of her shoulder, he could feel her take a sharp breath.
"I believe you." Her tone was barely over a whisper. A smile tugged at Legolas's lips.
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(Legolas PoV)
Legolas's mind had been plagued with thoughts of Y/n. Every waking moment he thought of her. For a moment when she stood hugging him, he forget about everything. Forgot about the impending doom this battle was about to bring. He even forgot about Aragorn and Gimli waiting for him at the wall.
The fight was long and an endeavour in itself. And there were few things Legolas thought about in battle, over than the obvious of strategy, he thought of his kill count competition with Gimli, but most of all he thought about how Y/n had looked so comfortable with her face tucked into the crook of his neck. In that moment Legolas thought she would refuse to go to the tunnels, similar to the fight on the way to helms deep.
Legolas had spent his whole life thinking he was above grovelling and pleading but with
Y/n there was no limit to what he would do for her. Even if that meant begging her to seek sanctuary or carrying her down to the caves himself.
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"What of the woman and children?" Legolas asked to Théoden, king of Rohan. The king avoided his gaze, as if he knew Legolas would protest against his answer.
"There is no more we can do for them, the orcs are surrounding the doors." Théoden said, averting his gaze from Legolas.
Legolas didn't wait before turning and heading to the door. That was when Aragorn grabbed his shoulder, making him halt.
"Where are you going?" He asked, though Legolas was sure Aragorn knew why he was trying to get down to the tunnels.
"Y/n, is in there, I can not leave her." And Legolas really couldn't leave her down in the tunnels to be killed.
"There is no use, the tunnel is barricaded by orcs, you couldn't get past them." Aragorn tried convincing Legolas to not act irrationally.
"And you suggest I do what, leave her! I do not care if did trying but I will not leave her to suffer that fate alone." Legolas defended. The moment he said the words he wished he could take them back. Aragorn showed no reaction so Legolas shook of his grip, and went to try to find another way to get to Y/n.
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Once the tunnels had been opened and the women and children were allowed out, Y/n wasted no time. She walked out, looking everywhere for Legolas, but she couldn't find him. She searched high and low and he was no where to be seen. Y/n chose not to think about what could have happened to him, disregarding the thought that he might well be dead.
In the far distance she could hear what sounded like her name being yelled. And when she heard it again she knew whose voice it was
"Legolas!" She yelled back, trying to find him in the heaping crowd.
"Y/n!" He called back.
That was when she saw him, at the bottom of the staircase. Frozen. He stood frozen staring back at her. Her breath caught in her throat. Her eyes swelled with tears. That was when she picked up the hem of her skirt and ran.
Y/n had never really been found of running but in this moment nothing mattered to her more than being in Legolas's arms.
Legolas wasted no time to, running towards her. His legs holding up his frame when seconds ago he felt as if he could collapse from exhaustion. But when he saw Y/n he forgot all about everything else.
Y/n practically ran into Legolas, burying her face into his neck as her tears streamed down her face. He held her for a moment. Choosing to just her hold close for moment. She lifted her head from his neck, looking to face him, she scanned his face and body, looking for any signs of damage. Legolas lifted a hand wiping away the tears that still lingered on her beautiful face. His hands were soft against her face, her cheeks turning pink at his touch.
"Don't ever do that to me again." She moved from looking at him to resting her forehead against where her hands lay on his chest.
A small laugh bubbled out of Legolas.
"You evil, evil elf!" She said, banging her palms against his chest, the sarcasm radiating of her. Though Legolas could detect a slight bit of anger. His hand slipped around her waist, pulling her in closer.
" Evil?" He asked mockingly.
"Yes, that's what the stories say about the fae, there often evil." She joked, rasing an eyebrow.
"I've also heard that they're extremely handsome and very charming," He cocked his head to the side at her tone. Y/n inclined her head up to look at him dead in the eyes. A smile spreading across her lips. His gaze flicked from her eyes to her lips.
Hooking a finger underneath her chin, he did something she never quite expected him to do, but something she always wanted him to do. He kissed her. A kiss like the girls in the novels she read got. Where his hand was wrapped around her waist, and he slightly tipped her back when he kissed her.
He broke the kiss after a moment when cheers around erupted. Y/n's face clouded with embarrassment. She looked at Legolas who looked pretty smug with himself. When this all was over he knew the first thing he was buying would be and engagement ring.
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(Aragorns PoV)
Aragorn watched as Legolas slightly dipped Y/n , bringing her into a kiss. He was happy for the two, not that they were officially together or anything. Though he hoped they were, the two had both, individually been through a lot, and together they were something else. Aragorn remembered what Gimli had told him about their reunion whilst he was away drowning. About how tenderly he held her and how she looked at him with so much love.
Aragorn clapped his hands at the two finally kissing, Gimli laughed loudly. Y/n excused herself due to the fact she was embarrassed. And Aragorn could finally talk to Legolas. The tension between the two was rather tense after what Legolas had said.
"I wanted to apologise about what I said."
"All is forgiven, my friend."
By this time Gimli had come over, laughing jollily at the fact Legolas had kissed Y/n.
"All you need now is two wee children for me to be the uncle of!" Gimli said cheerfully. Gimli was definitely drunk, Legolas noted to himself.
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(Y/n's PoV)
There was only one person who Y/n wanted to tell the kiss to about and that was Eoywen. Her sister, not by blood, and her best friend.
"Eoywen!" Y/n stopped beside her. Her face was lit up with adrenaline and joy.
"I kissed him, he kissed me!" Eowyen's jaw dropped slightly, and grin fell across her face.
scenes between a nocturnal human and the tireless elf prince
𝓣AGS ⁞ f!reader / human!reader ◞ angst + emotional hurt / comfort ◞ slice of life ◞ reader is avoidant ◞ implied trauma ; no backstory ◞ insomnia ◞ nightmares ◞ title from the song dust bowl ⁞ 𝓦C. 3.1k ⁞ read on 𝓐O3
He stands at the threshold, lightly taps pale knuckles against the door.
Your mid-stir pause. A spoon’s clink against the teacup’s brim. The look over your shoulder that swallows him whole. A sharpening before you turn away with a sigh, quiet voice pushing through exhaustion, “you, again?”
There’s a laugh somewhere in the gentle scoff he lets out.
He’s heard the talk of the human tinkering in the royal kitchen at night. Gossip in the woodland realm spreads like wildfire—he’s not privy to it, but this was something he just had to see for himself.
You’ve left a trail of breadcrumbs for him to follow, literally. A half eaten plate of bread with various bite-sized cuts of foods on the counter.
Legolas shifts from his post by the entryway, the squint in his eyes so subtle you’d never notice; a measured analysis he does before every encounter. Almost like he’s sizing up a cloud above your head, weighing the options to either turn away or become engulfed under its shadow.
A smile, soft and knowing.
“Either I am mistaken or a fox has been let loose in the stores.”
He crosses the barrier, steps into kitchen because he chooses the latter every time. Breathes in the outline of your slouched posture. Eyes the haphazardly secured robe, peeking only briefly at the exposure of skin along your collarbone before his attention skews to the jar of honey you set down. The thud of it bounces from wall to wall.
You’re not much of a talker during these hours. But when you do, your words are often clipped, splintering off path like something’s got you by the throat.
He’s gone over it in his head during the quiet moments of his patrol. This winter was harsher than usual. A frost so unforgiving in its bite that even he could trace the marks, however faint. A cold that could eat away the joy from humans, from anyone. And there was the delayed spring that came with heavy rains. Daylight was already a scarce resource in the woodland realm.
And yet, there was something more deep-set to the weariness. It clung to you like a leech.
He takes a step closer when his words dissipate into the air. Settles his hand onto the counter.
You look up, mumbling a detached hum.
Maybe you were still adjusting to the change of scenery, Legolas thinks now. He knows so little of your previous life. Memory recalls only how you ran from it until your legs gave out.
The first snowfall of the season had just begun, and you were nestled against a tree when he had found you.
He tracked you for hours, lowered his bow when the chaos of your urgency stuttered into a gradual softening. The air thick with the silence of surrender when he finally spotted you, unarmed and with eyes like glass. A tremble held by each limb too tangible—too human—to belong to an apparition, nor a trick of his eyes by some unseen evil.
You were hauntingly real.
But it wasn’t as though you’d become a mystery for him to solve since then.
There is a lot you can learn about someone by merely being in their presence. Though with you, the glimpses are brief. Always in a constant state of fleeting.
Still, he pockets these moments, pieces them together to find the makings of you. Like the rare occasions he’ll catch you in the early hours of the day, wrapped in the pale morning light like an ill-fitting cloak.
Or now, for example. Among dim lanterns and distorted shadows, he sees you in full colour.
You have a tendency to lure him into an unspoken staring contest when the lights are low and your words have gone dry. He has a tendency to mirror the intensity. Unrelenting, only ending when a gaze—usually his—drops to the lips.
He sees the slightest lift of a smile creeping. So faint you’d think he wouldn’t be able to trace it from memory. But he can.
And he does.
⟡
The following night, he returns.
Upon reflection, you should have known he’d be back. Princes and their pursuits.
“I have a question for you,” he says, more assertive this time around. Leans in with each passing breath before he’s lost you again to the mechanical whir of your stirring.
You blink. Give a slow nod that prods him to go on.
“And I want an answer of honesty.”
You bring the cup to your lips and sip. Nod, again.
“Is it your lodgings? I can arrange for a change of—”
Your throat clears unceremoniously, “no—that’s not necessary,” pursing your lips, you stare into the cup, “my lodgings are fine.”
The prince opens his mouth but you beat him to the punch, “want some tea?”
Knitted brows and the silence that follows are an obvious no, but you’re already reaching for another teacup.
The wood elves and their thirst for wine meant their tea was a neglected brew and scarcely drunk. Bland at best, a mouthful of dirt at worst. Honey lulls its bitterness, so you scrape the last dregs from the jar. Back turned to him, avoiding his penetrating stare.
You feel it entirely. The heat of it crawls up your skin like ivy. Joins the steam to layer your forehead with a sheen of cold sweat as you begin to pour.
You turn to face him, finally. He’s leaning against the counter like he’s got somewhere better to be. Arms crossed, lips a flat line.
You sigh softly. Princes and not getting what they want.
Properly this time, you hold him in your sights.
Braids meticulously intact, untouched by his return from the forest. Clad in his usual earth tones. Unarmed yet annoyingly invulnerable. That sobering pull of his stature, earth floor and roasted chestnuts blooming your nostrils.
His eyes, you save for last. Sink into the blue. Entrapped.
His gaze softens. Proximity pries your mouth open.
“I am very comfortable here,” your voice is low, sombre, like you’re divulging a secret, baring your soul, “I have no complaints. Promise.”
His eyes narrow ever so slightly, a delicate look that says I’m not stupid.
You push the cup across the counter. It sits between you and him like a peace offering. Or bait.
The lantern flickers wildly, casts all the shades of his reluctance into a flurry as he sniffs, carefully. The face he makes is not a good sign. Yet he brings it to his lips for a small sip.
Disgust curls his mouth. A hard swallow as he recoils, taken aback by the sheer force of bitterness in its taste.
You could roll your eyes again, scoff and shake your head. The urge is strong. But he looks at you with eyes so wide—the shock of betrayal, maybe. A lost bunny caught in a trap.
Valar help you if the king hears about the time you nearly poisoned his only heir, but the bubble of laughter breezes past your throat. Warm and unfamiliar and too quick for you to correct. It was one thing to laugh in the face of the crown prince, another thing to do it while in his kitchen.
Your palm flies to muffle the giggles that spill out, cheeks burning as you stutter an attempt at apology.
The prince takes both cups into his hands, his growing smile momentarily derailed by the final look of suspicion he gives the tea.
“I will find you something better than this.”
⟡
Legolas hadn’t anticipated spending his night in the healing ward, but the tenderfoot trainee under his watch suffered a misstep during their drills across treetops. This was expected for new trainees. What wasn’t was finding you here.
“Poor thing wandered in half-asleep,” the healer comments when they notice you’ve captured the prince’s attention, “inquiring about treatment for bad dreams.”
“Is there?” he asks. Rhetorical, of course, but the sincerity in his voice brings the healer to regard him warily.
They can only give him a small smile in response.
The trainee would be fine—nothing that rest and elvish healing couldn’t fix—the healer had reassured him before returning to their station. Meaning he has no other reason to spend a second longer here. Meaning he is free to leave.
Meaning…
He hasn’t taken his eyes off of you since he beheld the sight of that gentle, rhythmic rise and fall of your chest. Your face is scrunched into a small frown. Fingers wound tightly around the sheets. There's something endearing about this quiet protest, how even in sleep you actively fight against the idea of rest itself.
Temptation flickers. His fingers twitch to readjust the covers, to tuck away any stray hair on your face and get caught in the warmth of your skin.
He pulls back the hovering hand to rest at his side. Inhales deeply.
Expressing himself came to him as plainly as breathing. A simple fact of the way he was shaped by his upbringing, the blood coursing in his veins. There was no fear to waver his speech when he voiced conviction or boasted loyalty to comrades. He could admit when he was wrong. Easy. Could wax poetry in response to the most mundane questions the way mourning doves coo at every first light.
But there was a problem that took the shape of you.
Barricaded his throat, made him swallow—hard. Something about being near you tended to topple, magnify, mangle all at once everything he wished to say.
It was an alien feeling, that strange sensation of what’s left unsaid permeating the air.
But this was new. An opportunity. He could say whatever he wanted.
Though it wouldn’t be the same. No—not without your eyes rolling when he tries to make you laugh. The way they twinkle when he succeeds, how his heart leaps at the sound.
Or your deep sighs from holding back. The palpable tension of your withdrawal as you fall through his fingers like sand.
But he could try. He could tell you about how, despite the running joke between you and him—that he goes out of his way to find you, sniffs your trail like a bloodhound, hears your breath in the breeze—he really does stumble upon you unintentionally.
For the most part. But that was something he'd rather keep to himself.
And it’s almost as though the Valar are guiding his steps. As if the wind is beckoning him to find you, the very stars lighting a path that cuts through the fog. Or like he’s being pulled by a lead.
“Even in sleep, you are loud.” Legolas says under his breath, now sat on a chair at your bedside.
Smooth.
He sighs. This was harder than he thought. But you were—loud. Loud in his thoughts, the orchestra of you sounding off.
“Hmmph–” comes a hushed grumble from you, still asleep.
He holds his breath. Unsure of how deeply you sink into sleep, hoping his unspoken musings remain unsensed, hoping they’re palpable enough that you can somehow hear them anyway.
He’s not sure how much time has gone by when your eyes begin to flutter open. Your hands rise to rub at them drowsily, still fuzzy with sleep. It’s only after a fit of stretches and yawns that you notice him.
He’s frozen. A stag locking eyes with its hunter.
A raspy groan from your lips. You pull the covers over your face, a controlled release of breath when the trapped air closes in.
“there’s no escaping you, is there?”
He wishes it was that simple.
⟡
A nightmare.
You knew it was over when your eyes peeled open, but your ears are still ringing from a dream that tells you you’ve never left. The dirt of it all still stuck under your fingernails, caught in between your teeth.
You sink into bed in search of something distracting, eyes darting across the intricate carvings etched into the ceiling, bunching the covers around your hands in tight fists.
He slid into your thoughts so easily during moments like this.
Sometimes it would lull you back to sleep. Often the pang of longing could keep you up. But tonight it only seemed to intensify an unrelenting frustration. You had to get away from it all.
And safe as it was, the elvenking’s halls were no place for stargazers.
It was easy to get lost in this forest, and worse—even easier to not care when the breeze hit your lungs, unleashing something intrinsic that loosened your legs and told you to run.
Still, you made an effort to avoid what lay near and beyond the border of the woodland realm, where the well worn paths became consumed by tangled branches and dense thickets, and everywhere was a stone’s throw from uninhibited danger for anything with a pulse.
You first came to know these woods through the prince’s guiding palm on the small of your back. A fear once tucked into the deep-dark recess of your mind blown into dust by a simple touch. He held a tenderness that made it hard to believe that there was a time when nothing felt more threatening than the thorny reputation of the wood elves. Carved by the occasional story of towering beings cloaked in greens. Rumoured to have magic in their fingertips. Wilderness in their veins. Some stories could paint them in outlandish colour. Yet there was a constant that remained, an almost insistence to describe them as hunters.
A wariness unfurled itself within you those first few weeks. Hunters meant you’d always have eyes on you.
But reality emerged, bitterly sobering and sweet in its relief. And maybe it was because nothing about you particularly screamed threat; it was easy to go unnoticed by most in this realm.
Most.
From behind, a twig snaps underfoot.
He makes himself known to you by making it palatable to the tastebuds of human sense; through warnings that come too late.
“Tinúviel.”
You hear the soft smile. Can see that moonlit glow on milky skin without turning around.
“May I?”
You nod.
He seats himself on the moss, shoulder to shoulder.
“Are you ever going to tell me what it means?” You ask, throwing him a look that says: I’ve scoured the archives under candlelight. Rifled my way through stacks of texts to find the slim selections on Sindarin written in common and all I found were paper cuts.
He tilts his head like he’s feigning the act of being lost in thought. And then, frustratingly so:
“Not yet,” he nudges softly, a smile growing at the onset of your eyes rolling, “just know that I mean it endearingly.”
You look away with a huff.
The forest decays. A pained groan from ancient oak curling into itself. The absence of birdsong as the sky pales for dawn’s arrival.
Weeks spent shadowing the king’s archivists allowed you to record a timeline of the realm and the gradual decline of the land—rough, but enough to learn that this forest is all he’s known for a home. How his name is a fragmented homage to the one he never knew.
Despite the years marked by the scars of sickness, there was an overwhelming feeling of timelessness. Not like a tantalizing fountain of youth, smooth skin awash with a distant, ethereal gleam.
No. It was frozen in the sharp intake of a breath. A bloodcurdling scream lodged in its throat.
The prince follows your eyes, stone-still posture worn like a shield.
“We will heal her,” he says, voice soft as the earth after rain, quiet reassurance in his breath, “with patience…with hope.”
There’s a pocket of safety in the way his fingers brush against yours. Moonlight calms the ocean of his gaze, softens its intensity at the edges. You could drown in it.
Something inside of you flinches. This is the part when you turn away. This is when awareness is meant to rattle inside your ribs, shake you dutifully by the shoulders and—
“I never thanked you,” you breathe out, “for taking me in,” you swallow, waiting for the eye contact to break, for him to look away. He doesn't.
“for…”
Giving me a home. Or trying to.
“You could have left me there…” you blink slowly. Dam the flood of memory. Await a tree to catch on fire in your periphery. Palm the forest floor below to brace yourself for when the earth cracks open and swallows you whole, “and I wouldn’t have held it against yo–”
His hand clasps around yours as if to say stop. Your breath hitches at the soft squeeze.
Did he still see the scratches on your skin? The twigs in your hair? The dirt on your face? Was that day scorched into memory, held captive by dreams, for him the way it was for you? Could he forget?
Could you?
The answer is more obvious than the drumming in your chest. Self conscious, you turn away.
The wind picks up. Shakes the trees, rustles fiercely through leaves. A shudder is all it takes.
His hand, soft and firm over yours.
“You’re shivering,” he brings it to his mouth, lips ghosting over skin as he warms you with his breath. A gesture of kindness. The beginning of your undoing.
Something pools. Rises. Releases. Burns hot down your face—crying, you are crying.
His lips press into your skin, and maybe he says something, maybe he’s still looking at you like he sees you in a different light, but your remaining threads of self control have not yet slipped from your grasp. Not yet consumed by the beast of your want. Perhaps this is still something you can walk away from. Not unscathed. Impossible. But in control.
But each second is a calamity, and by the time you open your eyes his fingers have found your jaw, guiding you to face him.
And it’s inescapable, that endless talk of a bond that feels so natural it had to have been forged by the smiths of the divine. Of hands waiting, reaching with the sole purpose of interlocking. Of time that slows the stolen breath of eyes meeting, that ripened recognition to the shape of forever, of I know you, I have always known you.
But this: when he leans in, his lips tasting the salt from your tears, capturing them from your cheeks, your jaw. This was a new kind of cruelty unravelling.
No, it says, you can’t run from me.
His heart thunders beneath your palm. You grip his shoulders, feel the burn of searing hot realization when tense muscles flare under the wake of your touch. Lithe fingers in search of your waist, pulling close, pulling you into him.
Distant infatuation left an ache you could handle. But the breathing flesh of reciprocation...
There are clearings in the forest, remnants of where past fires have stamped the earth.
Was that what this was?
The breeze returns, hits your lungs and tells you to flee. For his sake. And yours.
Summary: You know that Legolas is busy, he’s a prince and the king’s only son, but you couldn’t help but be in a bind when all of a sudden he just stopped showing affection when it was all he could do months before!
Warnings: Potential OOC Legolas, Legolas lowkey a bit dense, A tad bit of suggestiveness but no smut, Arwen is best friends with reader, based off of “My Man on Willpower” by Sabrina Carpenter, a bit self indulgent, fluffy towards the end, not beta read, no use of Y/N.
Word count: 3.9k
A/N: AHHH first fic, I hope you all like it! Though I sincerely apologize if the writing is not the best, I still hope you guys enjoy it!
You slowly got off the saddle guiding your horse to the stable, patting their head one last time before giving a nod and a small smile to the stable boy that would get them settled in.
You walked out looking for your beloved, Legolas. When your gaze couldn’t find him you frowned, looking behind you, you realized that he was already walking towards his friend, Aragorn, now King of Gondor.
A small smile met your face when they both hugged each other tightly, not seeing the other for some time. Your smile grew bigger as you saw Arwen had accompanied Aragorn, rushing towards her.
She spotted you and as soon as you approached her, she opened her arms and embraced you. Both of you beaming.
Arwen had become a very special person to you, so seeing her again felt like a comfort that couldn’t be explained lightly.
You both let go and turned over to the two men, both smiling at you but your expression fell when you noticed that Legolas’ gaze hadn’t even lasted a second towards you.
Before you could dwell on it, Aragorn spoke. “Well it seems you both missed each other.” After the battle with Sauron, and getting married to Arwen, his face had seemed to be rid of burdens and his presence had become lighter.
Arwen moved closer to him. “Of course we did, it feels as if it’s been ages since we last saw each other.” Legolas laughed and crossed his arms over his chest. “You saw each other not so long ago.”
You gave legolas a faux-enraged look. “You know that it’s already been an eternity since we’ve been to Minas Tirith, Melamin.” Legolas gave a small nod and turned away from you.
This didn’t go unnoticed by Arwen who gave you a confused look and you just gave a half-hearted smile.
Legolas’ attitude did not falter as he spoke eloquently to his friend. “Well, I think it’s about time we start discussing business and we can leave these two to have a long overdue conversation.”
Your heart skipped a bit realizing that he acknowledged you, then you took a deep breath as you realized how stupid it actually was that your heart was fluttering at the slightest bit of attention your beloved has shown you.
Though you couldn’t blame yourself, he had been paying you no mind for so long now! And if he was, it was only for a brief moment, and only if he absolutely needed to talk to you.
Which is why you were so eager to visit Minas Tirith once again, you had no one to talk to in Mirkwood, it’s either people were scared of you because you had relations to the royal family, or they simply envied you because of the relationship you have with the prince.
Though now you can’t genuinely say that they had something to envy because you felt as if this was a bad dream.
Even as your mind spiraled, you bid a resentful farewell to both Aragorn and Legolas, well mostly directed to Legolas. You and Arwen walked towards the White tower.
Your eyebrows furrowed and it looked like you were deep in thought, you would have nearly fallen off the stairs you both were stepping on if Arwen hadn’t caught you before you did.
Arwen had a troubled look on her face, she had expected both of you to be in high spirits after not seeing each other for so long, but it seems that should be set aside for now.
After your initial shock had worn off, you gave Arwen a chagrined smile, her worry fading away and turning into one of strictness. Arwen exhaled a long breath before speaking.
“Do you want to tell me what is bothering you now or do you prefer we make it to the tower first?” You met her gaze and you had no choice but to stand up and dust yourself off.
The smile returned to Arwen’s face as she grabbed your hand and gently guided you to a place of rest in the Tower. You sat down on a chair as she sat beside you, waiting for you to say something.
Accepting the situation you were in, you got comfortable before talking. “Arwen, how do you break resolve?” Her face contorted into one of curiosity. “Why do you ask that, mellon?”
A small pout was now seen on your face as your eyebrows furrowed. “I’m sure it hasn’t gone unnoticed to you that Legolas has barely acknowledged me.” You lean your head on the arm rest of the chair.
“It has been troubling me for some time now, especially when all he could do just a few months before was give me affection like his life depended on it!” You cried out as your hands crossed around your chest. “It is something that I just don’t understand.”
Arwen’s pity for you was overpowered by the exasperation you felt, Arwen had stood up and opted to sit beside you. “How did this dispute between you both start?”
Thinking for a moment, and then turning towards her. “I have no odd memories of anything happening, which leaves me on a blank page.” She looked at you a bit confused and you grumbled in frustration.
“He started acting like this out of nowhere. Nothing major happened, no one had told him anything from what I remember. That’s why I am so perplexed.”
Arwen’s mouth gaped open a bit before she hesitated to say something. Eventually, she gave you her insight. “Well, what about your actions? Have you done anything to upset him?”
The spirit in your body seemed to drain out. “See, I have considered that a possibility, but If I did do something he would voice it out, Legolas is very blunt, and by now I would’ve known what I had done wrong.”
Before your friend could speak, you continued. “And I’ve tried apologizing to him despite not knowing what I have done. I feel like a fool showing affection that he won’t accept.” Arwen paused, glossing over the situation, thinking of the best way to help you.
After a minute of silence, Arwen grabbed your hands and held them in hers. “How long are you staying here again?” Your head tilted in confusion. “Ah, we are staying here for 2 days, I wanted to stay longer but prince duties, as Legolas said.”
Arwen’s smile returned to her face. “Well, that gives us just enough time to find a way for you to catch his eye once again.” You froze and looked at her baffled. “Don’t elves pride themselves on communicating with their loved ones?”
Arwen seemed to disregard your statement. “With your situation, I am not sure how communication will be a big help to you.” You tried to think of a retort, but you closed your mouth again and agreed with her.
She let go of your hands and she raised up from the seat, now standing in front of you. “Well, we both don’t know why he is acting this way, so why not try everything? I want to help ease your worries.”
You considered it for a moment, deeming it to be a good idea, but the worry in your chest didn’t seem to go away. “But what if he gets irked at me? What if it gets worse?”
Your friend pulled you up. “You have nothing to lose. So, what do you think?” You looked around, your gaze eventually landing on your ring. You took a deep breath and made eye contact with Arwen.
“I guess it is worth a try though I hope this doesn’t make the situation worse than it already is.” She smiled and dragged you towards another part of the tower. You stumbled over your dress. “Arwen! Where are we going?” She stopped briefly in the middle of the hall.
Turning towards you. “To the kitchen.” Taken aback, your tone was unsure as you answered her. “And why is that?”
“Well, we need to think of a way to make him notice you right?” You nodded but you still looked at her perplexed. “Why not start our exchange of thoughts with some food?”
Realizing that you haven’t eaten much food on the journey, you immediately nodded and she smiled as she dragged you quickly through the hall, both of you laughing as you both trip over the hems of your dresses.
After eating a hearty meal, Arwen dragged you again to another part of the castle, you both stopped in front of a room with the doors closed, breathing heavily as you caught your breath and Arwen opened the doors.
You looked up and realized it was her and Aragorn’s room, you marveled at the sight as she walked to another door in the corner, you walked a bit faster to catch up to her.
She met your gaze and you gave her a sly smile. “It is very obvious that Aragorn loves you.” She looked confused before you snickered quietly. You gestured around the room. “He let you decorate this room, I see it.”
She laughed and covered her mouth, before opening the door, leading you into where her clothes were stored. You looked around in awe as many gorgeous fabrics met your eyes.
Arwen had walked over to a certain part of her closet, you walked up beside her as she pulled out a dress, positioning it over your frame as you raised an eyebrow at her. “What is this for?”
She sighed and handed the dress to you. “I thought we agreed on helping you with your situation with Legolas?” Your mouth went agape, thinking of something to say. “And how exactly are dresses supposed to help with that?”
Arwen looked at you like you were dense. “I was thinking of dressing you up.” You shook your head. “That isn’t going to work.” You walked closer to her, setting the dress down on a chair.
“Many balls and special occasions have been held in Mirkwood, which I have put in more effort in my appearance than I should, yet my beloved’s gaze still seems to turn away.” The girl had now become peeved.
“What has gotten into that elf?” Arwen had muttered under her breath, suddenly she seemed to remember something and a small smile appeared on her face. She pulled out another piece of cloth.
She pulled out a nightgown, it had a low neckline and the details were beautiful, though before you could process what she was insinuating, you blurted out the first thing that came to mind. “And where do you suppose I wear that?”
You had practically yelled, and you looked at her with so much fear in your eyes, she almost laughed. “I am suggesting that you wear this in bed with him.” You looked at the nightgown again and you started fidgeting with your hands.
“And what if he thinks that I am out of my mind?” Arwen handed it to you and you grabbed it, despite the nerves dancing under your skin, “Tell me, have you tried doing this before?” You looked down at the floor and shook your head.
She hummed. “Precisely.” You looked up and her eyes held a certain softness. “You are the one who said it does not hurt to try.” You held up the dress and then held it in your arms again. “I suppose you are correct.”
She smiled. “Don’t be so uneasy, what is the worst that could happen?” You nodded and gave her a small smile. “And I guess the nightgown is a perk.” Looking on the positive side of things, Arwen’s eyes seemed to light up.
She grabbed another piece of clothing and handed it to you. “It has a matching robe!” You gasped as she handed it to you and you grinned. “This is beautiful, would you like me to return it to you after I use it?”
Arwen let out a breath. “It is yours, I had it made by the tailor as soon as your letter came that you were visiting.” You gawked at her and shook her head. “Arwen! This must have costed a fortune! I couldn’t accept-”
She cut you off. “It is fine, I feel as if you forget that I am married to Aragorn, my friend.” You held in a small smile and gave her a nod.
“Of course, married to the king of Gondor.” She gave you a light slap on your shoulder as you laughed and made your way out of her closet.
You had given the nightgown to a handmaiden which would bring it to the room you and Legolas were staying in, giving her a smile. You and Arwen made your way to a balcony that looked over the outskirts of Minas Tirith.
“Now that that is settled, would you like to continue our conversation?” Arwen broke the serene stillness of the situation. You gave a nod and you both had talked each other’s ears off for the rest of the day.
As nightfall came and you got ready for bed, after having a nice supper with the King and Queen, talking like there was no tomorrow. Though you had noticed that Legolas barely met your gaze throughout the meal.
You were alone in the quarters given to you by Aragorn and Arwen, Legolas had invited Aragorn to do a bit of sword training after dinner, which flattened your spirits but you let your prince do what he wanted anyway.
Staring at the nightgown that lay on the nearby rack, your hair still a bit damp and the water on your body drying up from the heat. Your heart started beating like it wanted to escape the captivity it was held in by your ribs.
You thought about whether or not you will actually wear the piece of clothing or not, but as you thought of the recent events happening in your life, you expelled all the negative thoughts and eventually threw on the nightgown along with the robe.
You brushed your hair slowly and eventually you slipped out of the bathroom, grabbing the book you had left on the nightstand.
You got comfortable in the large mattress and waited for Legolas to enter the room. Your body stilled and your eyes focused on one word of the book as the door opened, revealing a disheveled Legolas.
You gave a small smile to him and stood up, dropping the book on the nightstand once again, walking over and grabbing his hand. He looked at you a bit bemused.
“Meleth nîn, how was training?” He softly pulled his hand out of your grasp which made you frown.
He gave you a fleeting smile and pulled off his cloak, placing it on a chair nearby. “It was fine, I enjoyed myself.” You shrugged off your robe and placed it on the same chair as his cloak.
Taking a deep breath, it’s like your chest has been enclosed and your mind seems to haze. Approaching him again as he turned to face forward and his movements seemed to stop as he stared at you, you could see the admiration in his eyes despite him trying to fight it.
You could feel your mood lighten, finally getting a reaction out of him, not a word was said for a minute, before he cleared his throat and turned his head away from you, walking to another part of the room, putting away his bow and taking off his gloves.
“Where’d you get that?” His tone was full of restraint, you chuckled to yourself. “A gift from Arwen, looks lovely doesn’t it?” He offered a brief approving hum, you walked closer to him and leaned on the wall to meet his gaze.
He met your eyes as you gave him an alluring smile. His adams apple bobbing as his gaze finally seemed to stay on you, you grabbed his hands placing them around your waist.
“I should really wash myself off now-“ You cut him off by putting your arms around his neck and pulling him down, both of your lips almost touching, you felt him leaning in closer to you and finally feeling his lips touch yours again was like euphoria.
You felt him push you against the wall and your grip around him tightened, melting into the other’s touch. Legolas' kiss was still so gentle, but his hands around you told a different story.
His hold tighter than you remembered, as if his body was finally recognizing that he was again feeling you, you both broke away, looking at each other’s flushed faces.
You both heard nothing except for each other’s heavy breathing, the cold air in the room hitting you both like a wave.
He stared at you like you were something so ethereal, that he couldn’t even begin to imagine how it would be to feel you again.
You looked at him, lips slightly ajar, the look on your face could make him melt, “Please.” That was all it took for him to kiss you again and drag you towards the soft mattress.
You both fell onto it, he put his knee in between your legs, a small gasp left your lips, Legolas pulled away and you looked at him, pleading.You swear you could feel tears in your eyes, and your love looked even more distraught, seeming to be conflicted on what to do next.
“Don’t feel obligated to do this.” You broke the silence, Legolas looked at you, finally with some sort of sincerity in his eyes. He broke apart from you, which prompted you to sit on the bed. Legolas sat down beside you.
“Meleth nîn, I do not mean to hurt you.” You looked down, suddenly a small sniffle was heard and Legolas immediately went to hold you in his arms. “Did I truly hurt you that bad?” You couldn’t answer, holding in a breath that would open the floodgates if you breathed.
Eventually, you gave a small nod, Legolas held you closer to him. “I am deeply sorry, My intention was never to hurt you Melamin.” You looked up at him teary eyed, “Will I truly believe that Legolas?”
You moved away from him. “You have been ignoring me for what feels like months, I cave at the slightest bit of attention you give, I honestly pity myself at how much I look for your eyes just to make sure you are finally noticing me, but no.”
Legolas tried to grab your hand but you instinctively pulled back. “I know that you are a prince, and that you handle the guard in mirkwood.” You laughed a bit. “But just before you couldn't bear to tear yourself away from me, and now? It feels as if I never mattered to you in the first place.”
Legolas looked worn, he could not meet your gaze. “I let my duties consume me, I deeply regret what I have done, I did not realize I hurt you until we had come here.” You looked at him exasperated, running a hand through your hair.
“How did you not realize? I was doing everything for you to at least spare me a glance!” You stood up, turning away from him looking at the door to the balcony. “I don’t think you would even touch me with an inch of your bow!”
“I mean, do you even still truly love me?!” Your shout could echo around the room if it was just a bit louder, You turned back to him, your brows were furrowed. “You know better than anyone else how much willpower you have,I could never understand it, so please, explain to me what has gotten into you.”
The silence in the room was deafening, before Legolas stood up and grabbed your hands to hold them in his. “Meleth, I could never lose my love for you, I was just busy with my obligations as prince of mirkwood.” You closed your eyes and opened them once again. “Why not talk to me about it? A simple conversation of this would’ve sufficed.”
Legolas bowed his head. “That is my mistake, Meleth nîn, I thought that my behavior was acceptable because you did not come to complain to me.” He looked up to meet your gaze again, and that is when the emotions that were all held in, burst like a dam.
Hugging Legolas closer to you as you cried, he stroked the back of your head softly, shushing you, muttering sweet words and multiple apologies to you in elvish, after a minute or so, you turned to look up at him once again.
“Please tell me you still love me.” Legolas sucked in a sharp breath.
“I want you more than anything in this world. I love you more than anything.”
Taking deep breaths as you stared into his eyes, you finally started feeling more grounded.
You laughed as you wiped your tears and Legolas held a soft smile on his face. “I missed you so much, melamin.” A breathy laugh escaped you, “You did not make it obvious.” You teased and he smiled, giving you a small kiss on top of your head.
“I am still deeply sorry.” He reasoned. “Just make sure to compensate me. Preferably with bribery.” Legolas held you closer. “Anything, and I will talk to my father about giving me a few days rest.” You nodded in approval.
“You couldn’t have done that earlier?” Legolas shook his head and guided you back to the bed. He laid you down on it and went to lay beside you, grabbing a hold of your waist. “A more important question, where did you get this nightgown?”
You smirked and looked down. “Isn’t it to die for? Arwen had it specifically tailored for me!” Legolas looked at it closely, observing all the intricate details before he pulled you closer. “Well perhaps a thank you for Arwen would be appropriate.” His mood shifted to a more playful one.
You shrieked happily as he pulled you to sit atop of him. “She certainly knows what designs are beautiful.” A small smile on his face. “Mhm, well you can thank her tomorrow!” You said cheerfully as you removed yourself from him.
Walking to your side of the bed, Legolas looked confused as he saw you get settled into the covers. “That is not fair, Meleth nîn.” His smile grew as you turned your head slightly away from him. “I refuse! After what you did to me, this is retaliation. You can have that shower now.”
Legolas slightly narrowed his eyes. “You wound me.” Turning back to him, a prouder smile on your face. “Well. good for me.” Legolas let out a breath, standing up to finally have that bath. You turned away from him, finally falling asleep with a light heart, and a quiet mind.
And with your beloved finally treating you like you were once again, a gem.
divider credits: @uzmacchiato (thank u!)
A/N: I hope you all enjoyed! And I apologize if I didn’t capture Legolas’ character well, love u guys and stay safe!
Summary: Legolas hadn't gotten around to reading all the letters you've sent him.
WC: 1k
Warnings: established relationship, long distance, reunion, a single use of y/n (for a letter), gender neutral reader, a bit of an AU (deal with it :3)
A/N: this idea has been sitting in the back of my mind for a while now so why not finally write it out and post it lol.
Being in a long distance relationship with Legolas wasn't exactly easy. He was constantly moving around, not knowing where he would end up next. Going on many adventures was one of his shall we say 'hobbies' and he enjoyed them, but it never gave him any time to write or send letters to his beloved. He could only imagine how many were waiting for him when he finally returned home. So many questions flooded the elf's mind. How worried were you? Were you angry with him for not replying? Would you understand his side of things if he were to finally answer?
Only time would tell as he was finally headed home after a few grueling months of adventuring. He made a mental note to stay put for some time so he could receive and reply to your letters. It was your only form of communication at the moment, living in different kingdoms complicates things, but you somehow made it work after all this time. He wouldn't stop now. Upon his arrival, his father greeted him and explained how letter after letter came for him during his absence. That was one mystery solved, but another one stood. How frantically were you sending them for his father to mention them.
As he entered his chambers, he look and saw a decent pile of letters, all addressed from you. A sigh left his lips, he felt terrible not being able to reply to any of them while he was away. Instead of reading through every single one of them, he grabbed the one from the top of the pile. It was the most recent one you've sent him, the scent of your floral perfume spritz onto the letter made him smile. He loved when you added that little bit of personality to your letters. It always reminded him of your time together. He opened the letter and began to read.
Dearest Legolas,
I have to say I'm quite disappointed with you not replying to any of my letters. I understand you like to go out adventuring, but normally you're not gone for this long. I know I've sent quite a few messages by now, please give the king my sincerest apologies, but I am very worried about you, my love. Are you injured? Are you safe? So many question race through my mind during the day.
But I digress, I've decided to surprise you with something. I'm coming to your kingdom fairly soon. Most likely when you finally receive and read this letter, I will already be on my way there. There is no stopping me, and fret not. I have someone escorting me there so I will be quite safe on my journeys. I hope to see you greet me when I arrive.
Your love,
~[y/n]
He reread the letter several time, looking over your signature at the bottom of the page. After a moment, it finally clicked in his mind. You were coming to Mirkwood. How long until you arrived? Did he have time to wash up? He didn't want to greet you in dirty attire after so many months apart. He took that chance, washing up and putting on fresh, clean clothes. Once he was finished, he could hear the sound of hooves in the distance, just near the gates. There was no doubt about it, it had to be you. Legolas made his way down to where you had finally dismounted your horse and smiled when he spotted you.
"My love!" He shouted from a distance, still walking towards you.
You looked around and finally saw him making his way towards you. A big smile formed on your lips as you full on sprinted in his direction, dropping your bag off your shoulders and throwing yourself into his arms, "My darling Legolas!"
He twirled you around and laughed, "Oh my love, I missed you so much. It's been so long since we've been together!"
Legolas placed you back on your feet and kissed your forehead. You looked into his eyes, "Oh my dear, it truly has been far too long. But I do plan on staying in town for a little bit if your father is alright with it."
"He will have no choice but to be fine with it. You'll be staying in my chambers for the duration of your stay. We have to much to catch up on." His hands rested on your hips as he spoke, "I'm sorry I couldn't reply to your letters.
You shook your head, "It's alright, my love. After the first week or so I figured you were either busy with things or simply not in Mirkwood."
"I was out on an adventure. It took much longer than I originally expected. I would've sent one to tell you, but I had no time to sit down and write. I read the most recent one though when i returned, about your arrival."
"So that's why you smell so fresh and look fresh out of the bathtub. You got all clean up just for me?" You questioned him with a devious smirk on your face.
The tips of his ears turned pink, "Yes, I didn't wish to greet you in filthy clothing or to smell like a rat den when you arrived."
You kissed the tip of his nose, "I'm just teasing, love. Don't worry about it."
He walked and grabbed your bag and threw it over his shoulder, "Come, we can continue to talk in my room. But first I'm sure my father would want to see you. Believe it or not, he enjoys your company."
You followed him to the throne room and greeted Thranduil with a bow. A small smile formed on the king's lips as he welcomed you back to the kingdom. You and Legolas headed to his room where you both caught each other up with what had happened in your lives during your separation. You both eventually agreed that every few months, a rendezvous was needed to keep you two sane.
