A/N: Hey! I don't know how this conversation between my sister and I got started after THE HOBBIT: THE DESOLATION OF SMAUG but we ended up having a dare to see if I could write a huge thing on just Legolas' eyes and add a storyline into it all while making it short. His eyes are beautiful and freaking perfect OKAY!? CHALLENGE COMPLETED (THUMBS UP) so I did it! Please tell me what you think! BTW I have no idea who the narrator is, she's just some random character, it could be a reader/Legolas Fan fiction or it could remain a mystery I don't know, but also make sure to read my other LOTR story plz! THANKS

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I didn't know what it was, but it was in his eyes. His pale blue pools of mystery, clouded with the burden of a million sorrows. Yes, it was in his eyes...
The way he gazed upon the greenery as he trotted through the forests, the way he was so connected to nature. He would sometimes just stop our journey, close his eyes and lean his ear against the barks of trees, listening to their whispers, hearing what they had to say. And when he would come back to his horse, a deep look of understanding and satisfaction lay in his eyes. He would stare upon the forest, so passionately, like he was a part of it, like he could feel every wind and rustle, touch every branch and let every one of his leaves fall.

When he would lift his sword, his eyes would glitter like the metal itself. They would glisten with fear, yet hold the strength to do what was necessary with the weapon. He would unsheathe his daggers and look at the dark metal, reflecting his face back at him, not in mockery but in devotion. He knew that he would have to use these weapons until he left for the Undying lands, and he never, while he lived with the men, never he wished to part with the daggers. Then there came his bow and arrow, ah alas his most skilled weapon of them all. The way he twisted his body and strung the bow just to aim at a single target was remarkable; definitely a sight to see. He would look at the weapon with great respect, as he knew that putting him and the weapon together was a lethal combination. Any being could see how precise his aim always was, or how quickly and easily he could whip out an arrow and within a blink of an eye, the arrow would be gone and in the body of whom he wished to put down. In no land have I ever met such a fine archer or swordsmen with such a fire blazing in his chest, one that took over him in a battle and he set all thoughts aside with a singular focus: to win. In those sparkling seas of his eyes, there was a righteousness that rang, he held himself high as the Prince of Mirkwood, bearer of swords, daggers, and his favorite bow and arrow.

The way he would glance upon his father was much more different than the way he would glance upon his friends. Towards his father, the sense of rivalry that pierced through his clear sky colored irises was unlike another gaze he has ever shown. He looked at his father with a look of confusion... and an everlasting echo of 'I will be the king you never were...' He never meant it in a rude way, but in a way in which, he would do the things his father could not, and that was aid others when needed.

Now towards his friends, his iris's with gleamed in warmth and comfort. The man, the dwarf, the wizard and the small hobbits... there was a different smile that appeared on his face, a different sparkle in his eyes... he would look at them with the words 'We did it...' and 'We lived…' The presence of the company together in Mirkwood was unlike any other, there was a unique cheeriness to his quiet laugh, one that I was blessed to hear more than enough of... but not the same laugh, this laugh was reserved specifically for his friends.

Then there was the way he looked at me. The way his eyes seemed so distant as he stared into mine, the way he seemed to read me through and through. There wasn't a sparkle of glitter in his eyes when he saw me, there was a blue... gentle... soft sense of peace... and I had felt it too. His eyes would lock into mine as he held me close in his locked chambers, where we'd be alone and just stare at eachother for hours, so lost in eachothers' eyes, so at rest with one another. He'd pull me closer and closer and all I could see were his eyes getting bigger and bigger. My eyes shone with a feeling of safety and affection in his arms, and I could see his shone with caution and fear. He had told me many times that he worried for my safety, worried for me and my life, but the only way I knew he had meant it… was through his eyes.

When we were together... there was an unusual aura around us as some would say.
When he held my hand and we strolled through Mirkwood, when we sat together for dinner and laughed, when we bade eachother goodnight, everybody noticed the beautiful love that filled the air around us.
Oh and when he'd dance with me, oh the way he swayed on his feet and caressed me, I felt like I was flying, flying forever in an eternal pool of love.
But his father had been disgusted by me, said I was not worthy for the love of a prince and spat at me; that was the first time I had ever heard Legolas yell so much.
He spent all night, yelling screaming, fighting with his father, saying that if anyone deserved his love it was I, because he had already given his to me. From dusk till dawn he argued with King Thranduil, not begging but forcing his father to approve of his love for me. The fire in his eyes, his misty blue pools once soft, now raging with anger. For days after he agreed, King Thranduil hadn't spoken, hadn't even looked at his son. But Legolas didn't care; for he was too busy looking at me.
Then the King caught me... only a few nights after the war with the ring was over, Legolas had come home; came to Mirkwood. Oh, as I saw him walk past the bushes and emerge from the forest to his kingdom, I jumped and squealed and cried, cried tears of joy. I raced towards him at full speed, then leaped and threw my arms around his neck; his father had seen me do so as well.
After a joyful dinner with many stories, I asked Legolas to tell me more of his companions and their journey. I said I'd take his dishes away and he said he'd wait for me in his room, that's when his father called out to me.
Legolas was no longer there, he was upstairs and the King had sent for me to see him immediately; he was at the dinner, I thought 'why didn't he say what he needed to then?'
I approached the Throne he sat at and bowed respectively, he paced towards me and as I rose he slapped my face; hard.
He hissed, "How dare you..." and he slapped me again.
I fell to the floor in tears, my face glowing bright red from his hand.
"You are a commoner; you have no place in royalty. Stay away from my son..." he spat again and the guards dragged me out.
They left me on the staircase, I was conflicting whether I should go upstairs to his room or just run away; I didn't have enough time to make a choice.
Legolas came down the stairs, whispering my name in question, as if trying to call me; when he saw me weeping at the bottom of the steps, he came racing down.
He asked what had happened, "I just fell down the stairs..." I whimpered with and lied.
I was weak in my knees, sad and confused, so before I could think or get up, he lifted me in his arms and carried me to his room.
He laid me down on his bed and lay next to me, stroking my hair, that look in his eyes, that angry look; mad he couldn't do anything to save me from the pain I was in. But he didn't know that my true pain lied within my heart, for I knew that our relationship could not last for much longer. But the way he looked at me... the way he stared into my eyes, his serene gaze so captivating, so enchanting, my face still stung from the slap and he could read the pain in my eyes. "What is wrong?" He asked softly into my ear. "N...nothing..." I stuttered. After a long pause, our faces mere inches away, I could no longer hide it, "I love you..." I croaked behind tears. His eyes widened, juggling a thousand emotions at once before he whispered, "I love you too..." and that's when... when he finally kissed me. He thrust his lips onto mine and that kiss seemed to last an eternity. Now I couldn't see his eyes then, but I could tell that he had meant that kiss… and I had meant it too. How long I had waited to say these words, I have lost track of days, but what a relief it was when he had felt the same way and kissed me so passionately; words cannot describe the warmth of his heart and touch from that moment.
Alas… there came the day where... where...
The King said it was only a small pack of Orcs heading towards the kingdom, nothing that could arouse a war; but just because they were small, it didn't mean they couldn't do damage. Spears, axes, and their armored fists, my sword just wasn't fast enough this time. Legolas and some other Elves had been there too, fighting alongside one another, we were fighting fairly well… there were only a few Orcs left… we were winning in fact when... when my hand slipped.

My sword fell flying out of my hand and I stood frozen in front of the approaching Orc, realizing I was also out of arrows. I couldn't figure out what to do, where to run, the Orc was coming towards me too fast; and then it hit me.

Literally, it hit me.

Within seconds I was on the ground, coughing and gasping for breath, the taste of blood slowly entering my mouth, I could feel the axe pierce through my lungs and break my ribs; I knew I was going to die.

I just fell to the ground, the world was slowly fading away and my ears began tuning everything out.

Everything began blurring and for long moments I lay there, heaving, groaning and moaning, not able to move a muscle in my stiff, bleeding body.

Then I heard him, I heard him shout at the others, then he screamed my name in search of me… he screamed my name again in shock seeing my current state from a few feet away. I struggled, but I smiled to myself, never had I realized how much I enjoyed hearing him say my name.
He fell to my side, placing a hand on my forehead utterly speechless and worried; he didn't know what to do.
He dug one hand underneath my thighs and the other under my neck; he was trying to pick me up. I knew by the time I'd get back it'd be too late, so I kept that faint smile on my face and nodded no.
His eyes began to water as he retreated his arms, this was the first time I had ever seen him cry; and it would be the last.
He knelt down and stroked my forehead slowly as tears dripped off of his cheeks onto mine; but I continued to smile. His heart was thumping out of control as he looked at me, I could hear it. I saw the sadness and pain in his eyes now amplified but clouded by tears; his worst nightmare had come true, he was losing me. But that was my worst nightmare too, and not only was he about to lose me but I was about to lose him. His pale blue eyes were closed now as he blinked away tears, not able to bear my last breaths. I moaned for him to come closer and he did. I mustered the strength to kiss his cheek and he whimpered, "...please… don't go..." I said, "...I love you..."

My eyes shut.

My breathing stopped.
Now he doesn't know it, but I see him every day, I watch over him, my eyes caring and loving and my heart longing to be with him again. Though I'm gone, I know he still thinks of me, and I of him. Never has he gone a single day without lifting up the stone he carved our names into, never does he walk by my empty home without cringing. I want him to move on but I know he can't, he won't, because I cannot either. You cannot move on from true love. And I know it will be thousands of years away, but one day, we will meet again. And I will still love him the way I always have and I know he will still love me too. It wasn't just his laugh, his smile, or his devotion to me, it was something else that told me he would forever love me... it was in his eyes.

A/N: Please leave a review!

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