This short story has an odd OC who is part of the fellowship, and gives Legolas a better ending. If you can, please take a minute to give any review, as I wish to write better. Thank you for reading!

He heard the sound of falling water, off in the distance. Judging from the sound of impact, it would be a waterfall falling on a small body of water, probably a spring in an enclosed space. The trees surrounding him were thick; old trees mixing with newer ones, all reaching high and casting the ground in speckled shadow. It was midday; early for their company. They had been traveling during the nights and setting up camp come dawn, much like the enemy they were hunting.

He had slipped away from camp, having woken up earlier than the others. Save for one of his companions, the strangest of them all, and that was saying something. In a band of diverse fellows, some man, some elf, one dwarf, and a bunch of hobbits, she was the only of them that did not represent her race as the others did. The men were strong leaders, focused on the present and ever moving forward; the hobbits were simply a delight, bringing the light back into the darkness; Gimli was as headstrong as his race boasted but had a knack for saying the most humorous things; and Legolas himself was as those who did not know any elves would think of all elves; strong, lithe, and golden, with an air of wisdom that their longevity allows.

And yet his female companion was the unlike all other elves he had ever known. She had come into their life from recluse and seclusion, where he had come from royalty; under the public eye. She looked different than the standard elf. She had multiple piercings on each ear, and she kept her red hair quite short; shorter than any he had seen before; shorter even than human men kept theirs. Her hair didn't fall lower than her pointed ears, and even stranger, the hair right around her ears, on the sides of her head, were kept shaven. It helps my hearing, in a hunt, she had said to him when he had summoned up the courage to ask her about it. It also serves as a constant reminder of who I was.

Her responses were often as such; riddles that created more questions than answers. Legolas didn't mind, as many of the friends and family in his life were similar. It was a sign of wisdom, or of age. Gandalf is similar, even though his personality shows his bluntness at times. They were very close, Liria and Gandalf. She was the only other in the party with any magic, though Legolas's own body was also magical, as all immortal beings are. She practiced arts no longer shared among those in his family's halls. Her arts were entirely nature based, exhibited in how she had lived by herself with only nature as her family for many years in her study. Her solitary life showed itself only at times in large group settings, when she felt the least comfortable, surrounded by many other people. Yet all of the personal and private conversations she had had with Legolas were as natural and comfortable as conversations he has with his closest friends or family.

His curiosity had gotten the better of him when he realized she had gone from the group before he had awakened. She left no tracks, as usual, so he had started towards the only sound in the distance; the falling water. He let his feet guide him towards the sound as he lost himself in thought, reminiscing on the last month and a half that he had travelled with these people towards their common goal. The amount of time he knew all of his companions had been nothing compared to the longevity of his immortal life, and yet he felt a strong bond with all of them, since he trusted them with his life in battle.

As he approached the water, he heard a haunting melody. The sound was unlike any he had heard before; like a bird, but much deeper, richer. The notes fell up and down in a consistent pattern, the notes relaxed, not rushed. The minor tone brought him into an even deeper reflective mood, and he admired what he now understood was her singing voice. Her song included few words, with most of it humming and vowels, but it didn't need words to express the pure emotion that came from her.

He finally approached the secluded clearing, but he stayed hidden among the trees as he searched for the source of the music. His eyes widened and his heart froze in his chest when he realized she was washing herself next to the waterfall. He knew he should turn around and walk away, or make himself known, but at that moment, her song ascended higher and higher until her melody cried to the heavens, expressing such complexity, like confusion, or shame. His brow furrowed as he focused more on her, and his eyes widened for a second time.

Her body was bare to the elements, hiding nothing. At first glance, you see her form for what she is; a strong hunter and fighter, and a beautiful elf, with all the lithe strength and grace. But a second longer and you notice something wrong. All along her body, from her neckline down to her very feet, her skin was covered in scars. Some were smaller than the length of an apple, and the largest was a scar so large it looked like a thick rope of scar tissue was branded all across her back. It started above her right shoulder and fell down diagonally to end at her left hip. He could tell it was from some blade, but that it had healed improperly from ineffective care. The second largest scars were the ones encircling her wrists and her ankles, and they looked the most painful of all of them. The skin around was so stark white compared to her already pale form, and he knew the only thing that could create such prominent scarring; shackles.

Her song evolved from one that cried frustration to one full of wonder. His focus was torn from her ravaged body to her form and her expression as she began a movement of almost dances, her lack of reserve astonishing. This moment was so personal, so intimate, that he couldn't rip his eyes away from her as she began practicing her type of magic. As her arms moved back and forth, back and forth, the water around her responded, pushing away from her and then drawing towards her, like it was breathing in and out. It pulsated with her singing, and he felt peace at the rhythm, like his own heartbeat joined in in the dance on its own accord.

Her song and her dance became more complex, the water beginning to swirl around her and lick up her bare legs, the streams of water blurring the many scars and marks on her skin, brushing past the marred skin, more focused on the beauty and purity of her dance and song. Legolas stood, transfixed, aware that he should make himself known. The knowledge of his dishonesty was the only thing preventing this moment from being perfect.

Her song ascended, higher and higher, her voice relaxing more instead of straining, and the water caressed her all the way up to her shoulders and neck. She reached a climax in her song as the water weaved through her choppy hair, and she writhed in dance, her body glistening from the water, her eyes closed and her expression content and smiling, the lines usually on her face melting away to make her seem younger and pure. An absolute contrast to her scarred body.

As she sang her last note, the water slipped back to its natural state in the pond, and she slowed her movements until she turned so her back was facing him once again. She ran her hands through her short, choppy hair, and Legolas blinked when he realized what his peeking was doing to him. However beautiful and pure whatever he just watched was, the sight of her graceful curves and fearless smile had moved something within him that he hadn't felt move in ages.

He felt his heart drop to his stomach when she spoke, though she kept her back turned to him.

"You may come out from the trees now, Legolas."

He was frozen in place as a wave of guilt crashed through his body. He couldn't breathe, and she glanced at him over her shoulder, her face still relaxed, her eyes amused.

"I hope you don't mind that I didn't cover myself when I felt your presence enter this glade." She turned slightly, a hand reaching up to rub the back of her neck as she chuckled lightly. "I know, the sight of me, can come as quite a shock."

Legolas breathed as she walked to the edge of the pond and started to dress, and he recovered enough to politely avert his eyes as he stepped from the shade of the trees. He strode a few feet and lowered himself to sit on a large rock, keeping his eyes averted, as he focused on calming his beating heart. He could think of nothing to say, and yet knew he needed to say something.

"I…" he grimaced, the guilt a fresh wound in his chest. "I am so sorry, Liria."

"Me too." She said quietly, and Legolas frowned. She sensed his disquiet and she glanced up at him, meeting his eyes briefly before he looked away. "I try not to have too many people see the ugliness that I carry with me."

Legolas reacted instantly, his frown deepening in disagreement. He met her apprehensive eyes and kept the contact.

"Nothing of what I just witnessed was anything close to ugly," he disagreed, and continued when he watched her open her mouth to dismiss him. "Nothing, Liria."

She bowed her head but straightened up, her tunic and trousers on, but her boots remaining on the bank. She breathed in deeply before meeting his eyes.

"I appreciate it, but I understand whatever reaction you might have."

"My reaction was admiration." He stood and took a few steps towards her. "Amazement. You are astonishing." He swallowed, and she smiled sadly.

"I thank you. Your words are too kind." She smiled and bowed her head, but would not meet his eyes. She bent and began to lace her boots, and continued in a rush. "I can answer questions if you have them, but I do not expect you to listen to my sob story."

Legolas frowned, and he closed the distance between them. He could see the tension in her shoulders, and he felt the strong desire to comfort her take hold of him, though he knew not how to assure her.

"How do you sing like that?" he asked quietly.

She glanced up at him, expecting a different question, and he watched a hint of tension leave her form.

"Anyone can sing. I just sing what I feel from the life around me." She straightened up and looked at him fully for the first time, her smile coming closer to reaching her eyes.

"I felt such… emotion. From your notes." He tilted his head and questioned her with his eyes. "Like you were telling a story."

She nodded and looked down, her hand rubbing her wrist where he now knew was covered with painful scarring. "I sing of… my…" she frowned and looked far away, searching for words. "Of my journey. Of my… healing." She looked to the side, but not focusing on anything.

"I… will not pry of your history." He reached out tentatively and rested a hand on her shoulder. She met his eyes. "But that does not mean I do not care. Nor that I am not curious."

She smiled at him then, the rest of the tension leaving her shoulders, and the last lines of her face melting. "Nothing you ask would be prying, my friend." She relaxed and placed her hand on his arm. "You do not know what it means when I say, I feel quite comfortable with you."

Legolas blinked and felt his heart swell, and he looked at her meaningfully, an apology in his eyes. "Would you forgive me for invading your privacy?"

She grinned. "Would you forgive me for not stopping when I knew you were watching?"

He blinked again, and swallowed. His heart had suddenly decided to start hammering in his chest. She laughed brightly, smiling at his flustered reaction, and she did something not common in elven culture, startling him even more. She stepped to close the last of the space between them, and slipped her arms around his middle, bringing their chests together and resting her head on his shoulder. She embraced him gently, and after a moment, he returned the affection, firmly holding her back and sighing deeply. It had been years since the last time he had such close contact with another person; his mother, he remembered. Liria rested fully against him, and he felt her heartbeat against his, strong and steady. When she made no move to end the embrace, he rested his cheek against her head, her short hair soft and smelling fresh and calming. He couldn't believe how right this felt, and he watched, helplessly, as his heart beat began to speed up, and how hers did as well.

She slowly pulled away, and he let her reluctantly, but she stopped and looked up at him, her face suddenly very close to his. He watched her eyes and she watched his, and he knew an array of emotions danced along his expression. He had no idea of what he was doing, of what he wanted to do, and yet he knew he did not want this feeling to end. He did not want her to pull away, he wanted her to feel as comfortable and warm as he was feeling. Her eyes flitted between his, and he felt the tension around them build like a physical field surrounding them. The tension wasn't cold; it was… invigorating.

Before he knew what to think, she had leaned up, closer to him, and placed her lips on his cheek so softly he could have imagined it. She kissed his cheek briefly, and pulled away from him slowly, letting his hands glide along her arms until they rested in her hands. He searched her eyes and she squeezed his fingers before letting go and turning from him, her eyes downcast and her cheekbones reddening slightly. His body felt as she moved farther away, like the field of tension they had created was dissipating. He swallowed, fully overwhelmed, but left wanting to feel her embrace once again.

She scratched her head and looked around them, her eyes looking everywhere but him. He simply stood there, really seeing her. Seeing all of the things about her he already knew, like her strange appearance, strong fighting body, and kind eyes. As well as all of the new things he knew about her, like her incredible singing and dancing expression, and the secrets she had lying along her skin. She breathed in deeply, like she was trying to settle her nerves, and she met his eyes.

"Forgive me. I know I told you I would not expect you to bear my sob story, but we have another hour until our companions will wake, and I…" she fidgeted. "I would like to share my burden with you, should you be willing to bear it."

She averted her eyes and Legolas fought the urge to close the distance between them.

"I would be honored to." He smiled at her when she met his eyes, and he nodded to her encouragingly, gesturing to two rocks close together. "Shall we sit?"

She nodded, and they moved to sit next to each other. He faced her and prepared to listen, while she continued to fidget, her hands rubbing her wrists while she frowned at the ground.

"You have nothing to fear, Liria." He said quietly, and she gave him a thankful smile. "You may stop at any time and I will not judge, and I will take no offense if you do not wish to answer any questions."

Her shoulders fell an inch and she lightly touched his arm. "I really appreciate that, Legolas."

She breathed in deeply and set her shoulders.

"Most of these scars come from the time I was enslaved by Sauron and his minions, many centuries ago." She looked down and her mouth formed a determined line. "I was captured during a scouting mission I received from Lord Elrond, when I was exploring the border of Mordor. I remember every detail of that day, when they trapped me." She closed her eyes and sighed. "The orcs dragged me up into some watchtower on the western edge, and that was where I was kept for a few years."

She paused and rubbed the back of her neck, and Legolas just looked at her, never hearing a story like hers happen to any elf before.

"My subconscious has blocked most of my memories of those years. But a few remain." She half smiled off unto the distance. "As have the scars. And the hair cut. They shaved me of my long locks the first night in captivity. As well as these piercings."

"How did you escape?" He asked quietly.

"That, I do remember. Vividly." She met his eyes, and he watched a hardened shell grow over them. "One of my captors, the one who was in charge of keeping me alive, had made the mistake of conversing with me." She smiled, but her eyes remained hardened. "He was a strange orc, that one. He called himself, 'Kexal'. They say orcs were just elves once, who had been tortured beyond belief and twisted into monsters. That's what they believe, anyhow, and that was the one piece of information I clinged to." She looked off into the distance. "One night, when he was bringing me what they considered food, I asked him about his life. If he had any family, any friends. He did not respond immediately, but after a few days of asking, he opened up to me."

She looked down, confusion plain on her face. "I learned so much from talking to him; about the nature of orcs and urukhai, their relationship with goblins, and how the armies work." She bowed her head. "It was only because I knew so much information that would save lives that I killed him and escaped, when an opportunity came. If I hadn't known such valuable intel, I don't know if I could have killed him."

She had paused then, and Legolas sensed more confusion.

"I'm not sure I understand. You didn't want to kill the orc?" he asked quietly.

She nodded, but kept her eyes downcast. "It sounds strange, I know." Her shoulders tensed. "I…. These marks on my body were not just recreational torture. They had a purpose."

She clenched her hands, and then she unclenched them. Legolas tried not to react to her saying recreational torture.

"They were attempting to recreate the original creation of orcs. By torturing an elf long enough that their body and mind breaks, and turns to darkness."

She stopped then, heavily disturbed. Legolas let out a breath and could only try and share this pain, a pain he couldn't even fathom.

"That knowledge, that that was the only reason I was kept alive, it… it…" she grimaced and wrung her hands, but she forced herself to finish. "It made me question my identity, and question the identities of all orcs." She met his eyes. "Am I less of an elf now? I no longer have the flawlessness of my race, the inherent beauty we hold in such esteem. I am as cut up and painful looking as any orc. At what point does one stop being an elf, and start being a monster, a monster that all of my race hates so strongly that we teach our children to kill them without thought, without remorse, without understanding where these beasts come from, what happened to them…"

She faded off, breaking her eye contact with him. She continued quietly, with no more fire left in her voice.

"I understand that orcs are the embodiment of evil and darkness. I lived, immersed in it for a few years. And yet, are we really so simple-minded that we believe they are only mindless beasts, doing evil work because they want to, rather than being forced to?"

She quieted then, and Legolas's mind reeled in thought to her questions. What she was suggesting was never heard before. What she was essentially questioning was whether or not orcs could be considered… people.

"How can you even think that? When they treated you like… when they hurt..." He couldn't finish.

"They only do what they know. They do to others what others have only done to them, and the cycle of death and suffering persists." She whispered.

Legolas stared at her, and she wouldn't meet his eyes. They stayed like that for a few minutes, until she broke the silence.

"I apologize for that. I understand my thoughts can be quite radical, and I also understand if you are reluctant to believe the mad ravings of someone who was a prisoner for years." She breathed in deeply and stood. "I really appreciate you listening to me."

She turned away to leave but he reached out and grasped her arm. He was very confused, but only on the topics she discussed. He was not confused about her, and he needed her to know that.

"I could never think you mad, Liria." He said, and she glanced up at him. He could see such cautious hope in her eyes. "I may not understand everything, but I trust you. I trust your judgement, I trust your resolve, and I feel much clearer now that I know you a bit better."

She bowed her head. "It has brought me much peace to share that with someone I am close to, after so long keeping it to myself. The lords know, but, well, not all elves are as accepting of alternative looking and thinking people as you." She smiled at him fully. "Thank you, Legolas."

He returned her smile, and nodded his head. He felt such calm from looking into her soft green eyes, and he watched himself, aware he could easily fall into them. Before he knew what he was doing, he said what was on his mind.

"One only has to be graced with your voice, or your laugh, or your eyes, to know what one wishes all elves could be."

Her eyes widened and he watched her swallow. How she could even wonder at her beauty and identity was beyond him. For what he saw in front of him was such mindfulness, such resiliency, albeit a strangeness most were unfamiliar with, yet he felt the least uncertain when it came to her.

Her eyes began to glisten, her eyebrows upturned, and before he knew it he found himself in another of her embraces. He held her firmly, heavily enjoying her frame against his, the way she tucked her face into the crook of his neck, the way she clung to the back of his shirt. He placed one of his hands between her shoulder blades, and the other caressing the back of her head. He breathed in deeply, but then noticed she was trembling. He pulled back to try and see her expression and was about to say something, but she clung to him, her trembling turning to silent sobs. He held her even more firmly, letting her ride through this wave of emotion, gently rubbing her back and giving her whatever amount of time she needed.

They stayed like that for a few moments, neither moving, the only sound in the glade the water falling, the wind in the leaves, and the quiet sounds of her breathing through her silent sobs. She eventually pulled away, but stayed within his arms, rubbing her cheeks, and keeping her eyes averted.

"Forgive me, I haven't reacted this way before, I thought I had moved past my traumas," she said quietly, their closeness intimate. He rubbed her arms and bent lower to her, trying to catch her eyes.

"There is nothing to forgive. You are welcome here anytime you need, anytime you want."

She met his eyes. "Welcome where?"

He looked at her. "Welcome, here." He gestured to her, within his arms.

She looked at him, and he looked at her. He began to feel dread that he had overstepped boundaries when her mouth formed a smile and she responded quietly.

"You are welcome here anytime as well."

He felt himself relax, and before he knew what he was doing, he tightened his arms around her and bent lower, leveling his face with hers. Her eyes widened, and he turned his face while pulling her to him, and like she had minutes ago, he gently placed his lips on her cheek. He felt her intake a breath from his affection and very close proximity, and he forced himself to end his kiss quickly, releasing her softly. He took a step back, not wanting to overwhelm her, but she clutched the front of his shirt, keeping him within arm's reach. Her eyes were wide. Her eyes were alive.

They stared at each other, neither knowing what to do, both of them knowing what they wanted.

After a moment of indecision, she unclenched her fingers from his shirt, but she left her hand resting on his chest. He looked down at her hand, resting on him, and he reached up and placed his hand on hers, weaving their fingers together. He could feel her heartbeat where his hand touched her wrist, and he raised his other hand to join the first; holding hers. He removed her hand from his chest and slowly brought it higher while he lowered his face, and he kissed her knuckles lightly, keeping his eyes averted.

He was about to let go when she reached towards him and placed her hand on his cheek. His eyes involuntarily flew up to meet hers, and when he met them, he saw the green of her eyes deepen, and darken, as she caressed the side of his face lightly. Her fingers caused little shivers to run down his back, and her eyes unapologetically watching him made his whole body begin to heat up.

As he looked at her, the breeze picked up, causing the trees overhead to shift their leaves around and cause the speckled sunlight to highlight her bright hair and her vibrant eyes. It felt like the forest had set up this moment for them, like them standing in this stunning glade was fateful. His breath caught from the intensity of her image and the intensity of her expression, and he whispered without thinking.

"You are so utterly beautiful, Liria."

She stared at him uncomprehendingly, and before he could talk himself out of it, he gave in to the pull his body was feeling towards her. He closed the distance between them and held her face as he kissed her, his chest melting from how soft her lips were against his, how she leaned into him, how she returned the kiss without hesitation.

It was as if some invisible barrier between them had finally dissipated. Her hands rested on his chest, and she tilted her head a degree, effortlessly deepening the kiss. Her every small movement sent shivers down his spine, and she kissed him gently, yet firmly, unashamed of her affections, but thoroughly enjoying this as much as he was. He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her flush against him, the kiss turning from a cautious test to a reciprocated need. She clutched at him and kissed him back passionately, his whole body hyper aware of hers and how close they were, how she fit against him so comfortably. His stomach dropped as she opened her mouth for him and he kissed her bottom lip, her own breath hitching. His body heated up steadily as he trailed kisses from her lips to her chin, along her jawline, and onto her neck, marvelling at how she tilted her head to the side, giving him better access. She pressed herself against him and gasped when he nuzzled the side of her neck, and he felt heat surge through his veins all throughout his body at the soft sounds she made in response, making him feel more alive than he did in battle.

"Legolas," she whispered feverishly, and he paused and looked at her, but kept her in his arms. She was flushed, as he was sure he was, but her eyes, her eyes saw him, watched him, appreciated him, asked him for something. He blinked and felt a wave of pure desire wash through him, starting in his chest and flowing through his limbs to his very fingertips. He swallowed, trying to get himself under control.

"Yes," he replied, giving her the space to say or do what she needed to, as he began to rub his hands up and down her back. He watched as she visibly relaxed into his hands, and her eyes fluttered closed. All he wanted to do was to claim her lips once again and slip his fingers up under the back of her shirt, but he forced himself to slow. She breathed in deeply and whispered.

"Someone approaches."

He froze his movements, turning his senses from the incredible elf in his arms to his surroundings, having been completely blind to the outside world for the last few minutes. He listened intently for a second and identified the stride as Aragorn's. He was probably a minute away.

He breathed in deeply and released his hold on her, blinking and trying to regain control on his beating heart. He met her eyes and saw her just as flustered, and as one, they smiled at each other and began to laugh lightly. He rubbed the back of his neck and she fixed her ruffled clothes, and then reached to him and fixed his lopsided shirt. He looked down at her and grinned, then they turned towards where Aragorn was approaching.

Legolas suppressed a shiver as he raised an arm to block the oncoming snow. He had begun to worry, and standing still in the freezing wind only made the waiting more painful. Liria was their scout, and had been, for that was her role in the fellowship, and why she joined in the first place; to offer her scouting skills and her knowledge of the terrain and land in their approach to Mordor. She had scouted ahead of the group some 20 minutes ago, the hobbits barely able to follow on the impossible snowy path up the mountains.

He felt cold dread set in his chest, and he squinted once again, hoping against hope to see her hooded dark figure among the snow ridges up ahead. He heard Gandalf yell something to his right, and he turned to him, needing to watch his mouth to understand what he was trying to say over the howling wind. He tilted his head,showing he hadn't heard. Gandalf repeated, straining to be heard.

"Do not worry yourself. She is resourceful."

Legolas nodded, too cold and too tense to care that the wise human could sense exactly what was bothering him. For he and Liria had not shared their experience in the glade with the others. To the hobbits, it would only bring more questions and take the focus away from their mission, and to the humans, a simple kiss among companions would not seem like a monumental thing, when often humans would share relations to merely relieve stress. Only other elves would easily understand the significance of their experience, since their race celebrated romance as a much more serious matter than the others.

They had also had no time to be alone again since then, as they had increased their speed when they realized they were being watched and hunted by Saruman. They had many conversations at their camps when resting, but they were always joined by other companions and were not in a space for privacy. Not that he was frustrated about it; on the contrary, he heavily enjoyed their growing friendship and familiarity with each other, and every night he learned more and more about her. He was beginning to have a problem, however, with the amount of care he was feeling for her at all times of the day. And how he worried for her health and well-being much more than a friend would, to the point of where his lungs felt constricted at the thought of her going out into the snowstorm by herself, even though he knew she was the best suited out of all of them to do so.

He was about to offer to scout after her when he saw, in the distance, a dark smudge among the snow, and he felt his heart become much lighter in his chest. They waited for her to return, and within a minute, she was lightly striding across the top of the snow, her dark cloak and hood covered in white, but her eyes flashing green from underneath.

"There is a large cave, not too far. It runs deep; we will be safe there to wait out the storm," she yelled for the fellowship to hear, and the group collectively sighed in relief. He strode over to her and she smiled at him, and together they led their companions to safety.

The main cavity of the cave held their main campfire where Sam and the other hobbits were frying their dinner, and the main cavern split off into smaller tunnels that led to other small caves. Aragorn, Boromir, and Gandalf set up camp in one of the caves with a taller ceiling, and Gimli set up his bedroll in a small nook off the main cave.

Legolas sat with the hobbits while they cooked, and looked up when Liria joined them. She smiled at them and removed her hood and cloak, setting them up to dry near the fire. They all talked lightly over the meal, and before long, the hobbits succumbed to their exhaustion from the rough traveling and fell asleep in soft snoring heaps, causing the elves to smile.

Legolas looked over to Liria and spoke.

"I am going to explore and find a place to rest."

She nodded and then paused, before meeting his eyes with a guarded expression.

"May I join you?"

Legolas felt his heart flutter in hope, but he kept his face impassive. "Of course."

They rose and gathered their belongings before heading off into one of the unused tunnels. The only sound as they explored were their footsteps echoing off the walls, and Legolas tried to think of something to say to ease the tension.

They reached a smaller opening, the ceiling and walls flickering from the torch Legolas carried. They quickly went to work building another campfire for light, their hands efficient and practiced, but their minds reeling. Finally, Liria broke the silence.

"Forgive me. I am not sure why I feel so apprehensive," she said quietly into their space. He relaxed some, relieved she felt it too.

"I do as well." She nodded and he watched her smile nervously before she sat before the fire, the light illuminating her hair and eyes to show what vibrant colors she had. He sat next to her, a foot away, and he felt silly for knowing exactly how far apart they were.

"I hope my presence does not make you feel uncomfortable," she whispered into the crackling silence, and he looked at her, incredulously.

"I was worried I am making you feel that way," he said, and she glanced at him. "You have never made me feel uncomfortable."

"You have never made me feel that way either," she said with a slight smile, before she stared at the fire. He watched the flames dance in her eyes as she breathed in deeply. "You have made me feel, however."

He watched her, and he felt his skin warm up, not from the fire.

"I have done nothing but feel, since that day," he whispered, and she met his eyes, and he watched her guarded expression begin to melt away, replaced with a host of emotions he also felt, and knew were in his expression for her to see. They stared at each other, the fire dancing on their faces, the cave so wonderfully small and secluded, with no distractions from each other.

She reached out a hand and lightly placed it on his, resting on the ground to his side. He felt a shiver from the contact, and he weaved their fingers in between each other, marvelling at how smooth her fingers were. He had felt the touch of peoples' hands before, like his close friends and family, but somehow the feel of her skin was so drastically different, where he felt his hands being pulled to run over her knuckles and then under her palm, feeling the calluses where she holds her bow and daggers, matching the calluses on his own hands. He lightly pushed his fingers under her sleeve to run along her wrist, and she froze, but only slightly, only enough for him to feel, and he looked at her worriedly, hoping she did not mind him touching her where he knew her scars were. She met his eyes, and instead of her showing offense or guarding, she seemed worried as well, like she was looking for his reaction while he was looking for hers. It hit him them, the small remnants of insecurity she held for her scarring. He had watched her display of celebration in the glade, a celebration and acceptance of herself, and yet, she still held a worry about her body.

He would not have it.

He moved his hands from hers to her shoulders, facing her, and met her eyes.

"May I kiss you," he murmured, hoping beyond hope she would say yes because he could already feel himself leaning towards her. His heart beat fast through his limbs to his fingers, and he raised a hand to caress her cheek. Her eyebrows upturned and her mouth formed a smile, and she leaned towards him after nodding once.

She kissed him softly, simply connecting their lips, but inside he felt anything but soft. His chest writhed at the contact and he marvelled at how soft her lips were, how her scent filled his nose, how she leaned into him more comfortably.

He caressed her face as he kissed her more passionately, unable to hold back how he was feeling. She clutched the front of his shirt, and they moved closer to each other beside the fire like two magnets are pulled together. The kisses turned from giving light affections to unapologetically confessing attraction, his hands moving down to hold her waist on their own accord.

She wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled their chests flush together, and he felt her increasing heart rate against his own. The feeling of having another body, specifically her body, and her body as energized as his, right next to him, touching him, sent a wave of heat from his core to his every inch, accumulating lower as he realized his body called for their entire lengths to touch, not just their chests.

His arms wrapped around her waist and he shifted his body, his thighs and knees searching for contact as well, but he remained aware of how he did not want to overwhelm her or push something she did not also seek. To his utter relief she responded in kind, their kissing only intensifying. His hands ran up her back, pressing her to him, and he felt a very deep and intimate need move within him as she shivered within his arms.

He broke their kiss only to shift them slightly so he could lower his lips to her jaw and then her neck, spurred on as she tilted her head for him. She inhaled and began to tremble as his teeth lightly scraped her skin, and he slipped his fingers under her shirt to trail along her spine as he kissed the spot just below her ear. He felt her fingers clutch at him tightly, and it nearly undid him when she softly moaned.

She ran her fingers through his hair, the tips brushing the sensitive back of his neck and he felt himself begin to shudder at the delight, reveling in how wonderfully aligned their bodies were, with him slightly lower so he could continue to kiss her under her chin. She curved her body into his as he ran his fingers up and down the skin of her spine, and it was then he was fully and completely aware of what his body wanted, needed to share with her.

His last shred of self restraint made him pull away a few inches to meet her eyes, but he was not prepared to meet the sheer intensity that was in her expression. They were both panting slightly, and her eyes, her eyes shined in emotion. He saw such forceful need in her dark green wells, which matched her heated skin and insisting hands. The sight of her made it even more impossible to let her go, and he whispered one thing he needed to say before giving in to this passion once again.

"Please, tell me when to stop." He dived into her eyes, seeing his match. She shook her head.

"You, tell me."

She kissed him forcefully, pushing him back onto his elbows while her body settled along his. His insides shuddered as he registered their mutual consent, and he gripped her tightly to him as they lowered to the ground. The move to a more horizontal position lit something in his stomach that began to grow with her every touch, her every gasp. His body touched hers in most places, and yet that wasn't enough. His skin needed to feel hers.

They were laying on the ground together, with her holding herself up on top of him as he ran his hands over everywhere they could reach. It shocked pleasure through his body to feel her weight on him, and their bodies fit together as they kissed each other, displaying their desires through touch, the trust between them growing with every second. Their hands just naturally slipped between their clothing, searching, needing, and her shirt came slipping off her shoulders and her chest became bare to him, shocking his senses once again when his hands felt and held her unbelievable softness. Her hands fumbled at his own shirt, and they pulled it from his limbs and tossed it to the side to join hers.

He felt an electric current ripple through his muscles as they closed the distance between them once again, now feeling much more skin contact than before. Their kissing slowed down from the frantic speed they had before to a more patient one, the scope and severity of their relation hitting them both. He really felt her, the muscles in her back and arms, the hardness of her nipples brushing against his chest. Though they kissed less desperately, he still felt her every touch and her every reaction to his touch add to the fire that was slowly growing in his belly, and their focus lowered along their bodies to their lower halves.

He lightly trailed a single finger up her spine, and she arched into him, needing to feel more friction. She had one of his thighs in between hers, and as her legs shifted ever so slightly against him, he involuntarily arced into the sweet contact, entering their exchange into a much hotter, a much more intense place.

It took all of his self control to not outrightly grind against her, and it shocked him that such an animalistic desire overtook him. She trailed her fingers along his arms as she shifted again against him, her leg in between his rubbing his painfully sensitive length under his pants, and he felt his stomach drop from pleasure when she did it again purposefully, telling him she knew she was affecting him this way. She writhed her body along his and she pressed her lower half against him as she kissed him fully, and before he knew what he was doing, he tightened his arms around her waist, and turned them, placing her back against the ground and leaned on top of her.

It was his turn to press himself against her, and he marvelled at how it felt to press her against the ground, letting his body get as close to her as possible. Her hands rubbed up his broader back, her hands riding the waves his muscles made as he held himself above her. Her legs shifted open almost naturally and he fell into place alongside her, her knees rising on either side of his hips.

As he kissed her, he couldn't help how his hips pressed into her center, and he also couldn't help the muffled groan that left his throat. She gripped his shoulders and gasped against his lips, and he rose a few inches to look at her. He did not expect her to lean up to meet him, and he shivered as she kissed him, her arms wrapping around his neck and not allowing him a second without her.

His hips pressed against her again, and they both reacted simultaneously, the pleasure spiking through them from the pressure on their most intimate areas. He leaned on his elbows above her, and his length grew insistent against her as she trailed her fingers up and down his back, up and down ever so softly, sending his mind to hot places.

She moved her hands in between their chests and ran down his abdomen, stopping to rest on the edge of his trousers. He shivered from her light touch and he breathed in as she slipped the tips of her fingers in between the rim and his heated skin. He moved his kisses along her jaw as she slowly freed him from his tightened trousers, and his entire body froze when she grasped him with her cool fingers. In that instant, all his patience disappeared, and his entire being was replaced with an urgent need, an impulsive energy to move.

It took mere seconds for them to rip the remaining of their clothing away from them, and he kissed her everywhere while his hands ran up and down her waist, her hips, her thighs, her inner thighs, her heat…

He slipped a finger into her opening and her entire body went rigid. He gaped at how impossibly soft, impossibly tight, impossibly wet she was. He opened his eyes to watch her expression contort as he moved his fingers, feeling her shape and pushing into her further, and his length twitched at the sound she made when he slid more fingers to join the first. Her eyes were wide and her mouth was parted in pleasure, and she clutched at him desperately, her fingers and her eyes pleading. He felt like he was falling into her eyes, as they were so beautifully illuminated from the light of the fire next to them. She swallowed as he continued to pleasure her, and she wrapped her hand around his length and began to pleasure him as well.

"Legolas…" she whispered, her cheeks blushing, her hair sprawled, and her eyes shining in euphoria. She pulled at him and shifted her hips pleadingly, and his legs went weak from how amazing this felt, this intimacy with her. It felt like he was completing some natural puzzle as he aligned his length with her, and he stared into her eyes as he pushed into her.

They both gasped at the feeling of their connection, their eyes widening at each other, disbelief that such pleasure could exist. He felt the wave of pleasure ripple through his body, and he wasn't ready when she moved her hips against him, causing another wave. He pulled away slightly, and then immediately pushed again, causing them both to moan in unison. He replicated the movement again, and again, and he kissed her parted lips with such a need gripping his chest he had never felt before.

They kissed as he rocked into her, over and over, her arms coming to wrap around his neck and her legs wrapping around his waist. His insides writhed at the waves of pleasure assaulting his senses, and he began to let loose with his pent up energy, shoving into her harder and faster, causing her moans to become louder, and his hands to clench into fists in the unbelievable sensations he was feeling.

Her hands gripping his back turned to claws and her nails scraped his skin, the sharpness intensifying his pleasure, and he moaned into her mouth, pushing faster, watching her reactions to his roughness and seeing her enjoy his passion. She kissed him with an energy to match his, and he felt the tension in his body ascend higher and higher. Whenever she ran her hands up his arms, it added to it, whenever she bit his bottom lip, it grew, whenever she gasped or moaned, he felt the pressure inside of him build up so much he started shaking.

He thrusted fast, their bodies beginning to glisten and shine from the light of the fire, and then he felt her tense up all around him, and he watched her eyes widen and widen and her mouth part and she gripped his shoulders with her hands and his hips with her legs and he watched something release within her. Her face contorted in pleasure, and her eyes clenched shut as she gasped loudly, and he felt her heat spasm in waves, adding to his own pleasure, and making the build up of pleasure in his body unbearably perfect to the point of where he felt himself tensing all over. She met his eyes as his own widened, and with a final push, he felt everything inside of him let go. He inhaled and held himself suspended above her as he spilled everything, enduring shockwaves of passion coursing through him and into her. It was as if the entire world around him had disappeared, and only she remained underneath him; her perfect thighs, her gripping hands, her shining eyes, and his muscles spasmed in ecstacy.

She hugged him, tightly, and ran her fingers through his hair as he regained his breath, utterly spent and exhausted. He settled as he came down from the high, and they shifted so they lay next to each other, keeping each other wrapped in their arms. He lightly caressed her cheek as she did the same, and their eyes found each other, both of them filled with wonder, and relief. She shook her head slightly and smiled.

"That was… you are…"

He kissed her, not knowing how else to express what he was feeling. It felt incredibly comforting to lay with her in his arms, with no clothing between them, and he opened his eyes to see her perfectly ruffled hair, and her cooling cheeks. He spoke what was on his mind.

"In this world, covered in darkness and war, I am forever thankful to have met you. For you have only been a source of light and peace; a balm, for my troubled mind."

Her brows upturned, and she held his cheek. "And you, have only been a source of kindness and comfort." Her eyes flitted between his, and she breathed in deeply. "I would be the most fortunate, if I could spend as many years as I may with you."

Legolas blinked at her as his heart swelled, and nodded immediately. He looked into her eyes, and told her seriously. "Should you allow, I would follow you into the next age, even onto the ships we will sail for our people's lands over the seas."

Her eyes widened, and she kissed him deeply. His heart melted in his chest like dripping honey from her sweet affection, and he pulled her closer before resting his forehead against hers. She held on to him, and whispered.

"I have fear, Legolas. I would not be accepted by our people as a proper match for you." she met his eyes, and he could see the worry. "Would I be taking away from my people by giving in to my selfish desires?"

"You are not selfish." he said firmly. He rubbed her cheek with his thumb. "Our people are great, but we are old, and afraid to change. And that will be our downfall." he lightly trailed a finger down the side of her pointed ear, admiring the strange piercings. "I will not adhere to folly traditions. Not when, they keep me from true happiness."

Her eyes welled with tears, and she closed her eyes while she broke into a genuine smile, one that hid nothing. Legolas stared, never having seen such beauty before. She met his eyes, unapologetically smiling at him.

"I faer nîn linna nan glass, Legolas. My soul sings with joy."

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Have a wonderful day :)