Frodo starred out over the rocky mountainside, a few tears streaming down his dirt-covered face. He could hardly believe it; hardly make himself accept that Gandalf was gone. It hadn't happened an hour ago, and already Frodo felt his mental walls crumbling. There was nothing he could do to keep himself calm. His breathing was quickening, and the tears were beginning to fall faster.
"Frodo?"
Frodo almost choked on his breath when the deep, strong voice that was Legolas' broke the silence. He turned slowly in a half circle, and there stood Legolas, tall and strong and…beautiful. Even after days in the mines, his skin was as white as ever. Even his pale blonde hair was straight and clean, now stirred by a slight breeze, as it had been the day Frodo had first met him.
"Legolas…I…" Frodo began, but his voice faded. What could he say? He was to grief stricken to speak more, yet his heart felt lighter in the presence of his friend.
Legolas let a small smile grace his lips, the first Frodo had ever seen from him. Legolas moved forward, swiftly but slowly. He rested a hand on Frodo's shoulder, as though unsure if this would sooth him. But he felt he needed to do something to try and help Frodo, to try to comfort him.
Frodo starred in to Legolas' eyes, a silent thank you portrayed in them. He felt just as confused as Legolas, but what he did know was that the hand on his shoulder was a comfort, however small. He could almost feel Legolas' warm through his clothes, and he found himself tempted to slide his shirt off so he could feel it more clearly. Instead he creased his eyebrows, shifting uncomfortably with the yearning for more of this feeling, while at the same time questioning this sudden pull towards the Elf.
As though reading Frodo's mind, Legolas tightened his grip on Frodo's shoulder, then used the grip to pull the smaller boy into a strong embrace. He did not understand what it was that compelled him to do this. It wasn't that he felt it was required. No, that wasn't it at all. It was quite the opposite really, though what exactly the opposite was he did not know.
Frodo wrapped his arms tightly around Legolas' waist. Not his back, but his waist. He was resisting the urge to pull them closer, much closer than they already were. Instead, he buried his face into the crook of Legolas' shoulder, and sniffled slightly. He clutched his fists full of Legolas' cape.
The tall blonde elf had one arm around Frodo's upper back, but also one on his lower. He was struggling to understand if he was feeling what he thought he was feeling. It was completely new to him, but strong. It just felt good to have Frodo pressed into his shoulder, to have his arms around him and to smell his curls. He wasn't so much afraid really as unsure. Elves were among the wisest and most clear-minded species. They knew love was love, and so gender was nothing to them. Legolas was just shocked, for he had never considered if he might ever be attracted to another male. And Frodo was a hobbit, which might not be so open, or feel the same things that were stirring in Legolas. But after minutes of debating, he lowered his head and rested his face deep into the hobbit's dark curls.
Frodo was a little surprised at Legolas' movement, but he was far from complaining. He wondered if Legolas would press further. He wondered if maybe Legolas was waiting for him to signal an ok. But he didn't want to seem as though he wanted something that the elf might not even be offering. In the end, he just pressed his face harder into that strong, sweet neck.
Legolas smiled into the curls. Inhaling more of the scent of those dark curls, his stomach fluttered. Yes, he was feeling what he thought he'd been feeling.
Frodo felt his legs wobble slightly. It was only then he realized how awkward a position the elf had him standing. They might soon give out at any moment. He needed to sit. But would he be so bold as to take Legolas with him? But he didn't even have to decide. He felt himself being lowered to the ground, and just like that he was being cradled in a pair of strong arms. His heart skipped a few beats, and he smiled lightly. Then he looked up into a pair of questioning eyes, giving him a stare that asked 'is this ok?' He tightened his grip around the firm waist and closed his eyes with a sigh, a response that said everything.
"You…you aren't afraid then?" Legolas spoke softly into the hobbit's curls.
"Oh, yes…I'm quite afraid," Frodo said. "But not enough to let go."
Legolas tightened his grip and pulled Frodo closer, putting their faces close together. "Good."
But instead of allowing Legolas to pull his head back and place his face back in Frodo's curls, Frodo reached up and gently cupped the elves cheek. He starred into Legolas' slightly surprised eyes, as though searching for the answer of what to do next. His lower lip trembled slightly, as though he might cry. He drew his face closer, and Legolas leaned in just a little more. Their lips brushed, just barely touching, mouths open and sliding slowly over one another. They pressed closer still, lips lapping over and over, deeper and sweeter. Soon they were so close, their kiss so deep, they had to breath completely through their noses, making the kiss slow and passionate.
Minutes passed, maybe even longer. Frodo slowly pulled away from the kiss, resting his forehead on Legolas'. "Thank you."
Legolas smiled. "For what?"
"For letting me know that I'm far from alone, even when I've just lost so much."
Pressing his face once more into the softness of those curls, Legolas whispered, "You'll never again be alone."
