Chapter Five: I Long For Him

The remainder of the evening drags on as it always does, but the guests are finally leaving. I look around the Hall as it slowly empties and my anticipation for what is to come increases. My gaze turns to the Prince across the Hall and he meets it, winking at me with a smile upon his lips before turning to speak with some lingerers.

I leave the Hall with a last look at the Prince, and make my way to the gardens. I sit down on a bench in a glade surrounded by willow trees and tall hedges; my favourite place in the gardens. The enchanting smell of roses is in the air; its source scattered in numerous places in the glade.

How many times have I come here in my lifetime? The happiest memories were when my friends and I sat here and talked the afternoon away. I also spent most of my free time here when word arrived that our beloved Prince had joined a perilous quest. I had cried and cried with no hope of stopping myself, until my friends finally discovered where I had been going to be alone. No one knows my secret passion for the Prince, however. None shall know until he himself discovers this.

Long have I wished he would come to this glade when I occupied it. And now he will come, on this night! How will it unfold? Will I find the courage to tell him of my feelings? Will he kiss me? Will he hold me close to him and caress me in a way I have allowed no other to caress me?

Before I can answer any of these questions I am aware of movement to my right. I turn slightly, and there he is, standing at the entrance to the glade. My breath catches in my throat as I look upon him. His green robes are bluish silver in the moonlight, emphasizing his muscular physique to best advantage. His hair shines, spilling over his shoulders in long rivers of mithril. I pull my eyes back up to his face and I meet his gaze. Without breaking eye contact he slowly approaches me in fluid strides, his blue eyes gazing into my green.

After what feels like an eternity he is standing before me. He asks if he may sit beside me, and who am I to deny his request? He lowers himself gracefully next to me and I find that I am all the more aware of him. Gazing at me intently, he tells me I must call him by his given name, not his title. I say his name solely for the reason of hearing it upon my own lips. Legolas.

He raises his hand and gently lifts a lock of my hair off my shoulder. He presses it to his lips and then rubs it against his cheek, his eyes never leaving mine. He lets my hair slide from his fingers and his palm moves to rest lightly against my cheek. I press my hand over his and turn my cheek into his hand, closing my eyes and relishing the warmth of his hand.

After a few moments his hand clasps mine and brings it down between us, resting his other hand on it as well. His thumb strokes across my knuckles in a steady rhythm, and he bids me to look at him. I do, and he tells me how beautiful he finds me and how he often thought of me while on his quest.

Emotion overtakes me; a combination of the sadness that had assailed me during his absence and the joy I feel at his confession. I throw myself into his arms, sobbing, telling him how distraught I was with worry for him. His arms wrap comfortingly around me, promising protection, as I tell him how I never thought myself worthy of one such as he, but never could I place my affection in such quantities in another. His hands stroke my hair and my back as I finish my own confession. My cheek is pressed against his solid chest and I can feel the trained muscle beneath his clothes and hear his heartbeat. I can scarcely believe I am doing this with him, but it feels so right. He smells of the forest he loves so much, and also of something that is uniquely his own. I draw in a much needed breath, and find myself calming down rapidly.

All too soon he pulls back, his hands upon my shoulders, before rising; his hands sliding down my arms to gently grip my hands. I rise to my feet and he leads me through a curtain of leaves into a small alcove at the base of a large willow. He turns to me; that keen, adoring gaze trained on my face. He says he has wanted to do this for a long while, and he slips his arms around my waist, pulling me up against his lithe body. His eyes look deeply into mine, and on impulse I slide my hands from his chest over to his back, wondering vaguely why I am so pleased with the hard contours my hands trace.

His head lowers to mine slowly, but his lips only hover over mine. I look inquiringly at him and see a question in his eyes. He asks me if this is what I truly want, his voice a whisper. My heart swells with love for him; that he would put my welfare before his is more than I would ever have expected. I assure him that this is all I have wanted for a long while. I long for him. I want him to kiss me. I need him to kiss me. At my words he looks at me for a few moments, and then his lips finally touch mine.

His lips are warm and soft as they move slowly and gently over mine. His method is skillful, and I pull myself even closer to him. The kiss is light as a summer breeze, but soon his tongue darts out to trace my lips. Threading my fingers into his hair I open my mouth to him and his tongue eagerly strokes the recesses of my mouth. My tongue dances with his own in answer, and he kisses me more hungrily.

At length we are forced to break the kiss for need of air, and I notice that at some point his hands had slid down to my hips and they were now gripping them possessively. One look at his face tells me he has no intention of letting go, and I feel no inclination to tell him to release me. He is so beautiful. His skin is pale and flawless and unveiled desire and affection swims in his eyes. I bring my hands up to cup his sculpted cheeks and I stroke them with my thumbs, before bringing his mouth back down to mine.

It is long before we part, and when we do, Legolas reaches for my hands and speaks my name softly. He looks deeply into my eyes for a long moment, and then voices a statement I thought I would never hear from him. He loves me!! I can barely contain my joy; only long enough to tell him of my love and see my joy reflected in his face, and then I am in his arms, holding him to me as closely and tightly as I can. Legolas bids me to look up at him and I do, where I finally see unbridled love in his eyes.

He tells me to come with him, and offers me his hand. I take it, and he leads me to a part of the garden only those who have the express permission of the King or Prince are allowed to enter. It is the Queen's garden. I look up at him, and he tells me that he has never brought another maiden here.

He leads me beneath a large willow and sits down on the ground, drawing me down with him. He pulls me against his chest and wraps his arms around me, laying us both down upon the soft grass. I am lulled to sleep by his breath caressing my cheek as he sings softly to me.

A/N: There is at least one more chapter coming, though I may give in to the temptation to write another scene with Amiriel's POV and Legolas' POV. Let me know what you think!!

Mel