I walk excitedly through the forest with my sword in hand. My destination is the practice fields. Yesterday, Legolas asked to practice with me, and I agreed willingly. He seems to always be in the same places as I am, and the thought that he may be trying to intentionally seek out my company makes my heart soar. Ever since I awoke this morning, a smile has not left my face. All I can think of is Legolas and his gorgeous blue eyes along with his smile. I feel as if we have grown a bit closer in the diminutive time we have known one another. I only met him a few days ago, but I find myself thinking of him almost constantly.

I emerge from the trees, out into the open. My gaze immediately lands on the ellon who has been plaguing my thoughts. He is turned away, his back facing me as he watches the only other elves on the practice fields. It’s a father and son, the sister and mother sitting in the grass a little ways off. The father is teaching his son, who looks to be no more than eight years old, how to properly hold a bow.

I reach Legolas and stand beside him, both of us watching the family. The mother listens to her daughter read a book while her gaze rests fondly on her husband and son. I glance at Legolas to see him watching them intently.

“They are cute children,” I say quietly.

Legolas turns the force of his blue eyes on me and smiles softly. “I agree.”

I raise an eyebrow at him. “What has you so transfixed by them?”

He stares silently at me for several long moments, and I am afraid that I have somehow offended him; but then he smiles, and my fear is gone. He looks back at the family. “For many years my father has tried to persuade me to marry. He held balls and feasts often in order for me to meet many ellith that he deemed worthy of the title of princess and one day queen. I told him that I will marry once I fall in love, but you see, in royal families it is very common to have arranged marriages. Luckily, my father is very considerate towards my feelings, so he did not force me to marry anyone. He stopped holding these elaborate parties after that, but everytime I see a happy family, I cannot help but think about how miserable I would have been had my father forced me into marriage.”

“I cannot begin to imagine the horror of spending the rest of my life with someone I do not love,” I answer incredulously, “But a life spent with one who I love with all of my heart would be a blessing, indeed.”

I feel Legolas’s eyes boring into the side of my face, but I do not look at him. I watch from the corner of my eye as he opens and closes his lips as if wanting to answer but he’s not really sure what to say.

“I agree,” he answers softly. He then glances at the family once more before placing his undivided attention upon me. “Shall we begin?”

I turn to him, gripping the hilt of my sword tightly in my hand. Butterflies dance in my stomach as Legolas’s eyes rest on me delicately. His gaze is almost tangible, it seems. I feel his eyes on me like a touch, and the feeling is addicting, taking the air straight from my lungs. If I dare to even think this, I wish that he would look at me this way for eternity.

Legolas holds his blade in front of him with ease, no hesitation or awkwardness in his movements. I mimic him, feeling clumsy and graceless. As if he can sense my nervousness, he gives me an encouraging smile.

I breathe in deeply before making my first move. I thrust my sword toward him, and he easily side steps the attack. He answers by slicing his own blade toward me, but I spin out of the way, adrenaline beginning to pump through my veins. The corner of his lips lifts into a handsome smirk, and I have to force myself to concentrate. Being in his presence makes me want to do my best. I want to impress him. I have to impress him.

With newfound courage, I lunge forward, thrusting my blade straight at his chest, and he parries the blow, our swords clashing loudly. His eyes narrow in concentration, and I barely have time to block his next move as he quickly slashes horizontally, nearly taking off my boobs. What is up with the males of Middle Earth? Both Haldir and Legolas have a thing for trying to slice off my chest.

He takes me off guard by attacking me twice more, but each time I manage to block him. He is quick, his movements fluid and graceful. I have trouble keeping up with him. Haldir’s attacks are much slower and less frequent than Legolas’s. I guess Haldir is fond of going easy on me.

I begin to feel annoyed at how easy this is for the Mirkwood prince. He doesn’t even seem to be breaking a sweat. Everytime I strike, he parries my blow with just a flick of his wrist. Frustration whirls inside of me like a hurricane as I realize that there is no way I can prove myself to him. He is highly skilled- heck, I’d go as far as to say he is perfect.

As we go back and forth with attacks and parries and side steps, I think of some of the really cool moves Haldir tried to teach me. I doubt I can master them now since I couldn’t during practice, but my sudden, insane courage demands for me to give it a try.

As Legolas stabs forward, I slash my blade towards his at a right angle just a few inches above his hand in order to knock the sword from his grip. My plan does not work. He seemed surprised for a moment, but the sword didn’t budge from his tight grip. Instead, our blades were crossed, raised high in the air. Neither of us moved for a moment. Legolas’s beautiful blue eyes looked deeply into mine making my head spin.

I gasped when he suddenly grabbed my wrist, pulling me toward him forcefully. My grip on the sword loosened in that moment of surprise, and it clattered to the ground. Legolas used his grip upon my wrist as an advantage, quickly spinning me around and pulling me up against him. My back was pressed against his chest, and he placed the cool sword’s blade against the skin of my neck, right at my throat. With his hand still wrapped gently around my wrist, I feel electricity shoot through my veins at his soft touch. My heart races in my chest, a strange feeling bubbling in my lower stomach as I become hyper aware of the warmth of his chest radiating through the fabric of his thin tunic.  I can feel his own heartbeat. It beats quickly, as if responding to my own, but I am sure his is beating so rapidly due to our fight. Never before have I been held this way, and the new sensation is frightening and incredible at the same time.

His breath fans against the skin of my neck and shoulder, and my knees suddenly feel like jello. “I win,” he says quietly, simply, but the huskiness in his tone sends shivers down my spine. He doesn’t let go of me, though. We both stay like that, breathing deeply, hearts racing.

Both of us are startled when we hear clapping, and Legolas immediately releases me. I turn to see who on Earth-well, Middle Earth, I guess-is clapping, and my cheeks heat up instantly when my gaze lands on the adorable Elven family that Legolas and I were watching earlier. The father and son have stopped their lessons, and the wife and daughter are watching us, all of them wearing wide grins on their faces as they clap for us. So, they are the ones who are clapping. For a moment I was afraid that it was Lady Galadriel.

I watch as the father glances at his wife, who is giggling slightly, and I become even more embarrassed. To the children, Legolas and I were simply swordfighting, but the parents have obviously jumped to conclusions about the way Legolas was holding me. I fight the urge to groan.

“Prince Legolas,” the father addresses Legolas with a kind smile as he walks toward us, his family tagging along behind him, “It is an honor to be able to watch you practice. My son has not yet come of age, but he is anxious to learn to shoot with a bow. He always tells me of how he wishes to become as great of a warrior as you.”

Legolas smiles broadly at the little boy before shifting his gaze back to the father. “What is your name?” he asks kindly.

“Ethlando,” he replies before pointing to each of his family members, “This is my son Anlynth, my daughter Alanis, and my wife Ryllae.”

A fond smile comes to my lips as I notice how Ethlando’s eyes and voice soften when he introduces his wife.

I’m sure Legolas notices, also, because his smile widens. “It is a pleasure to meet you all.”

Ethlando wraps his arm around his wife’s waist as she bows her head in greeting, a delicate and beautiful smile on her face. “The pleasure is ours, my prince,” she says and then her soft gaze travels to me, “Who is your beautiful companion, if I may ask?”

I feel my cheeks warm slightly at the compliment and the kind, motherly tone in Ryllae’s voice.

“My name is Eilonwy,” I reply, not waiting for Legolas to introduce me.

“My daughter speaks of you often. It seems that you have made a good impression upon her and her friends,” she says with a melodic laugh as her daughter peers up at me from her hiding place behind her mother.

I smile tenderly at the little elleth. “That warms my heart to know, but I am not sure what I have done to make such an impression,” I say honestly.

Her mother smiles knowingly. “It seems that they have been spying on you whilst you practice with the marchwarden. Not many ellith in Lothlorien wield a sword, so you can see how they would find you admirable.”

I shift a bit in embarrassment. “I am not that great at it. I am only just learning, as you could probably see,” I say with a sheepish grin as I look at Legolas. His gaze was already resting on me when I turned to look at him, and he smiles softly at me.

“You did very well. Legolas has been training his entire life, as all elves and men do,” Ethlando says warmly.

Legolas nods and chuckles. “I, as well as Haldir and Galadriel, have had this conversation with Eilonwy several times already, but she still insists on saying that her fighting is poor.”

That’s because my fighting sucks. You elves are just too kind to admit it.

“You cannot doubt the word of Lady Galadriel. She would never say something that she does not mean,” Ryllae says softly and then turns to look at her husband, “Well, we must be going now, my dear. We are expecting company.”

Ethlando bows, his wife following suit. “Again, it has truly been a pleasure.”

Legolas and I both bow, and the family departs. Once they are a good distance away from us, Legolas turns to me. “Come, there is something I want to show you.”

I nod and follow him away from the practice fields and into the forest. He leads me deep into the trees, over large roots of trees and logs. I take the time to admire him. The sun’s rays filtering through the trees seem to light up his already golden hair. My eyes travel over his shoulders and back, admiring the way his light tunic accentuates his muscles. He suddenly turns to look at me and catches me checking him out. I try my hardest to not blush.

“We are almost there,” he says, and if I’m not mistaken, he grins in a sort of mocking way. Yeah, he definitely caught me checking him out.

I am startling from my thoughts when I hear the sound of something. At first, I can’t figure out what the noise is, but as we get closer, I realise that it’s rushing water. Legolas and I emerge from the trees and I gasp at the sight. There’s a waterfall, thus explaining the sound of rushing water. Instead of the water rushing over stones, it is flowing over tall, healthy green grass. The water runs into a large pond that is about the size of a large swimming pool, maybe even bigger than that. Steam wafts up from the water, and I’m practically drooling in desire to jump in.

“Do you like it?” Legolas asks over the loud sound of the water.

I turn to him with a huge grin. “I love it, Legolas! How did you find this?”

He seems extremely pleased by my excitement, and his grin mirrors mine. “Many years ago when I visited Lothlorien for the very first time, I ran away into the forest to hide from my naneth. She told me to get cleaned up for the feast that was to be held that night, but I would have none of it. I ended up finding this waterfall, and I come here everytime I visit.”

I laugh loudly. “I was right yesterday. You really were a terror!”

He grins mischieviously and steps closer to me. “Would you like to take a swim?”

I open my mouth to answer, but before I can, Legolas wraps his arms around my waist, pulling me off the edge and into the water with him. My shout of surprise is cut short as my body plunges into the warm water. Legolas releases me and I kick my legs, propelling upwards. When I break through the surface of the water, I gasp, breathing deeply. I wipe my wet hair from my face and search for Legolas. He comes up seconds after I do.

I glare at him teasingly and move toward the shallower part of the pond until my feet skim the sandy bottom. “You didn’t even wait for me to answer!”

He chuckles and follows me, his eyes sparkling with mirth. “And that is what made it funny!” he exclaims.

I splash him with water. “I do not find it funny at all,” I retort, trying to hide my smile.

Legolas splashes water back at me. “Do not lie. It is not the way of a lady,” he says with a smirk.

“Well, pushing me into the water without my permission is not the way of a gentleman,” I retort.

He only smiles. I am swept into his gaze, noticing for the first time how unbearably handsome he looks. Droplets of water cling to his soft, blonde eyelashes, and his soaked hair appears a darker golden color. I am close enough to him to see the different shades of blue that swirl together in mesmerizing patterns in his eyes. He stares so deeply into my eyes that I am quite sure he can somehow see into my mind. He steps closer to me, and I exhale quietly, not realizing that I had been holding my breath.

“Eilonwy,” he whispers my name to me, the sound almost being carried away by the sound of the waterfall. He uses his fingers to brush away a strand of my soaking wet hair from my face. “Ci bain in elin (You are beautiful as the stars),” he whispers, his husky tone causing butterflies to erupt in my stomach.

I shake my head slightly in confusion. “I do not know what that means,” I whisper back to him as he comes even closer to me. I can feel his warm breath caressing my skin, and I am quite sure that this must all be a dream.

“Gerog i chûn nîn mi i chaim gîn (You hold my heart in your hands),” he continues, “Sevog i veleth nîn (You have my love).”

The Elvish flows from his lips beautifully. I have no idea what he is saying to me, but his passionate, mesmerising gaze holds me captive. I only met him a few days ago, but I wish more than anything that he would kiss me. He is just like I always imagined he would be before I knew that he, along with all of Arda, was real.

“Legolas, please tell me what you are saying. I do not understand,” I whisper to him desperately.

He brushes his thumb across my jaw, his skin just barely touching mine. It is a delicious, addicting new feeling. “I cannot,” he whispers, his eyes turning sad. He pulls away from me. “I am sorry. I did not mean to… to get carried away,” he says and turns his back to me.

I stand there in shock. Curiosity eats away at me. What was he saying? His sudden evasiveness hurts me. He is the one who spoke in Elvish in the first place, yet he doesn’t even bother to tell me what it means.

He looks back at me, his eyebrows furrowed in inner turmoil. His eyes are conflicted. “We should go back,” he says.

I nod silently and follow him out of the water, my eyes stinging with unshed tears at what could’ve been.

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A/N: eeeeeekkkkkkk :D I had to put more fluff in, y’all! Do you even know how hard it is for me to hold back on writing their first kiss?! IT’S TORTURE. But their relationship cannot move too fast. Leggy just got a little carried away, I guess ;) idk we’ll see in the next chapter! Please comment and tell me your beautiful, important thoughts!

Love y’all,

Josie <3