Chapter Text
The lanterns cast a painful gleam into your cell making you cringe. When your eyes adjusted you kept your gaze carefully fixed on Aragorn, refusing to meet eyes with the elf.
“You're here to release me, right?” Your tone was eager and you picked at the hem of your shirt anxiously.
You shrunk under Aragorn’s watchful eyes. His silence filled the room with an uncomfortable tension, if he had made up a decision he gave no hint of it.
Just standing, waiting, caused your head to throb and feet to cramp. Your hands grew clammy and your lip quivered.
Another night in this rotten cell and you swore up and down that you would break out yourself, no matter how weak you've become.
Finally, his fingers moved to his belt and picked out the key to your cell. The rusty door squeaked open and both Aragorn and Legolas took a step back to give you space.
Surprised, you trudged forward and stood awkwardly in front of them.
“You look terrible…” Legolas murmured. He dared a step towards you, and you missed the way his fingers inched closer to hold yours.
“How are you feeling?” Aragon questioned. He stood tall with authority and kept his arms folded.
You offered a small shrug, “I'm mostly just exhausted...” That was an understatement and Aragorn was no fool. You rolled your shoulders back, feigning nonchalance but winced as an ache ran down your shoulders and spine.
Aragorn's expression was full of doubt and he opened his mouth to speak again when suddenly Legolas urged his hand into yours, his soft slender fingers carefully twining yours, just for a moment, before you ripped away from him.
His touch had left a small warmth that lingered (you haven't decided if it was welcome or not) even as you quickly made for the exit. Your freedom. When you glanced back his expression was hurt.
Then you stepped outside and let the midnight breeze fill your lungs. The cold helped reset your thoughts. If you hadn't known any better you would've considered running off and finding someplace to hide to avoid confinement again but when Aragorn stepped beside you, you froze.
You heard him exhale and flinched when he nudged your shoulder to grab your attention. “He still loves you…”
You turned your head and looked at him, confused. But his eyes were settled on the empty space in front of him and he repeated himself. This time his words sank in and you started to dread the feeling of anxiety when he mentioned love, you remembered loving once.
You recalled a time when Legolas’ love wrapped around you like a warm blanket. The sweet innocence and desire you felt whenever you were together. The memory of his feather light kisses still seemed to burn somewhere in the back of your mind, yet long forgotten.
The gifts he would leave whenever he planned to travel far and wide. But only one of the many gifts still stuck with you, a symbol of his love. One that he carved himself, using bits and pieces from his realm. The gift that hung over your heart with only a piece of fragile string to hold it in place.
“To keep you safe, meleth” was the last thing he said before he tied a cord of string around your neck, a smooth wooden ring, both your initials thoughtfully engraved into it, hanging right in the middle, just above your heart. Then he was gone.
But when was that? You couldn't remember.
Your hand reached up and grasped your neckline, it was gone. Perhaps it was replaced by the other ring. The cold wind picked up and you shivered.
Then you were brought back to your senses by the sudden warmth that wrapped around your shoulders.
“Don’t catch a cold…” Legolas stifled. Leaving you his cloak as he brushed past. And as he did you could've sworn you saw a hint of red in his glossy eyes.
When he was out of sight you glanced back at Aragorn, but he was gone too.