A gentle chilling breeze blew upon the sleeping fellowship, dancing among their unconscious forms. It was quiet and calm—for the most part that is. Legolas was the only one not in a deep slumber. He laid on his back next to (Y/N) for the third night in a row, deep in his thoughts.
Concern began to pool in his mind as the sound of tiny whimpers met his elvish ears, not noticeable to any other. That was the only downside to heightened hearing he supposed—being able to capture the small whispers and cries of those suffering when no one else could. It was saddening; more so, almost always he could not do anything to help….especially now. Though, tonight the sound did not come from a distance village or a nearing war, it came from the woman beside him.
(Y/N) was a strong minded and smart individual; she brought much to the fellowship—skills of healing, fighting, planning. She was strategic and her expertise was valued greatly, despite her intimidating nature. All of these characteristics seemed to make her appear so tough and unconquerable; anything thrown at her she would throw right back. (Y/N) was a woman of war; she could hold her own, that was for sure. So, seeing her haunted in her sleep was….strange for the elf. Legolas knew she had seen many horrors, as he had, but what was so gruesome and troubling that it crept its way into her darkest dreams?
Another small whimper escaped (Y/N)’s throat.
She was on her side facing Legolas, which gave him a clear view. He watched as her expression distorted into one of pain and worry. Her eyebrows furrowed and her lips pulled tight. She began to squirm in her sleep, rotating so her back was towards the elf. Yet he still saw the woman’s small fist clench the fabric of the blanket draped around her.
A third cry flushed from her mouth.
Legolas couldn’t take it anymore. The sounds were so heartbreaking. They pulled harsh aches of agony from his chest, tormenting him with sadness. He couldn’t bear to see her like this any longer. Three nights he had witnessed this, and three night he had done nothing.
The blonde elf scooted closer to her until his chest was pressed against her back. He used his arm to prop himself up in order to see her face. Ever so gently, he brushed away the hairs that had come loose from her braid, revealing her tear stained cheeks.
“Oh, (Y/N).” He whispered sadly.
Legolas wiped the moisture away softly and spoke once more, “I wish I could take away what haunts your heart.”
He begun to smooth her hair and caress her cheek. The tender sensation seemed to calm her unconscious form for the tears stopped falling and her lips ceased quivering.
The elf could not help but stare fondly as he continued the light action. He began to trace the shadows that were created upon her skin. The moonlight accentuated them clearly, showing the sharp curve of her jaw and gentle bends of her features. When (Y/N) wasn’t dreaming of horrors, scowling at maps, or beheading orcs, her expression was calm and tranquil. She was quite beautiful, indeed.
Legolas forced his eyes to pull away and he quietly laid down, curling his body around her. As his warmth radiated into her being she begun to relax against him. A quiet sigh escaped her mouth and she stopped the shaking that previous racked her body; instead, she seemed to push into him further. Legolas smiled at her unconscious action. It was sweet and adorable, really. He draped one of his muscular arms over her waist and pulled her closer—if that was even possible. He buried his head into the softness of her hair and inhaled the lavender and forestry scent that lingered among it. He allowed the sound of her heartbeat and gentle breaths to take the place of the anxieties lingering in his thoughts. Being so close to (Y/N) not only calmed her, but it initiated a peace within Legolas as well. He desperately tried to hide it, but he had craved this closeness with her; he had craved this comfort. Legolas had never met a women so unusual—in a good way that is. (Y/N) cared not for dresses and trinkets. She preferred the outdoors to the safeness of stone walls. She was interested in skills beyond those of a stereotypical maiden. And Legolas adored this.
Slowly, his mind drifted to sleep as he blocked the nightmares from her mind, like a shield would to arrows.
……
Legolas woke the next morning to the light smell of charcoal and burning wood. It was comforting for it reminded him of the warm fires the elves would have in Mirkwood—especially during the winter season. But that comfort instantly turned into panic. His blue orbs flung open and his heart raced.
Oh how he hoped no one had seen the….compromising….position him and (Y/N) were in.
Of course, cuddling wasn’t considered compromising in the most basic definition, but it was reserved to those who were courting or wed—and Legolas and (Y/N) were neither of those. Yet, their bodies were molded together and their position held still all night.
The blonde elf sat up quickly to meet the grey eyes of the Ranger.
Aragorn looked at him with raised eyebrows, “Are you alright, Mellon Nin (my friend)?”
Legolas’s brows furrowed and he tilted his head slightly before releasing a deep exhale. Maybe the Ranger would not comment on the previous closeness of the two? He focused back on his friend but the look on Aragorn’s face did not falter.
The Elven Prince cleared his throat, “Yes, yes I am alright. I was just—just—“
Aragorn interrupted him, “Cuddling with (Y/N)?”
“Yes—I mean no…..I mean……Aragorn…..” he trailed off.
A smile ghosted across the Ranger’s face as he turned back to tending to the small flames.
Legolas sighed and stood up. He trudged towards his friend and plopped down on a dark textured log next to him.
“She has been having nightmares,” Legolas stated simply.
Aragorn glanced at the elf out of the coroner of his eye. “(Y/N)?” He questioned in surprise.
Legolas nodded, “She never wakes but she suffers greatly. I can see it.”
The Ranger stared into the coals that he was poking. This new information worried him for he had known (Y/N) for a long time—even trained her—and this was something new and out of character. “Do you know of what she dreams?”
Legolas shook his head and glanced down at his hands, “I always thought her so strong. I know not what haunts her.”
A long stretch of silence passed between them before the Ranger spoke once more, a teasing tone upon his voice, “So naturally, you had to cuddle her.”
Legolas sent him a glare, “Well no—I just—I—it…it was the only way to stop her cries.”
Aragorn sighed, the smirk that had previously plastered across his face faded into a serious expression. He dropped the stick and turned his full attention towards Legolas. “Don’t think that it has escaped me, Mellon Nin (my friend).”
The elf frowned, “What do you mean?”
The dark haired man shrugged, “The way you look at her.”
Legolas was clearly takin aback by this comment for he stiffened and drew his eyes away.
A light chuckle left the Ranger’s lips. “You forget I was raised by your kin. I recognize those elvish looks of longing.”
Legolas felt a deep blush creep up his neck and into the tips of his pointed ear. He didn’t know what to say—what could he even try to say? Aragorn had figured him out. But luck seemed to be on his side for the waking groans of Gimli halted their conversation.
…….
The past week had been difficult. The fellowship had trudged through rugged terrain and rough rocky tundra. It was taxing on them all, even the elf. In order for his companions to get the rest they needed, Legolas had offered to take nights watch more often when they were exposed with no cover. He still kept a careful eye on (Y/N) though. When he was not cuddling her he could see the dark dreams take hold. Her brows would scrunch together and the soft cries would return. Therefore, as soon as his watch was over he would wake the next and then nestle his body against the young woman’s. And soon enough, the soft whimpers and heartbreaking cries would end and the shaking and rustling would cease. No longer were her dreams filled with agony and fear.
For some reason, the thought of (Y/N) discovering Legolas’s nightly cuddles never crossed his mind…..not until it actually happened, that is.
It was sometime past midnight when (Y/N) unexpectedly woke up. The reason—she knew not. But she was surprised to feel so…..so warm. The nights had been getting colder as they moved north and the chill did not escape her every morning. So, the puzzlement of the additional heat flooded her foggy thoughts. (Y/N)’s tired brain began to process her surroundings further. She became aware of the extra weight wrapped around her waist—then the smell of pine and honey, then the gentle breaths near her neck. However, it wasn’t until the sound of a content sigh and the motion of being pulled closer into a firm mass, that she realized she was indeed curled against someone.
Alarm instantly fueled her body. (Y/N) immediately launched herself into a sitting position and turned to see just who had been cuddling her. Her wild eyes were met with the sight of a groggy elf who was entirely confused by the sudden movement. (Y/N) watched as Legolas propped himself up on his elbow and peeled his lids open. He slowly looked at the empty spot next to him, then feeling a gaze on his form, turned to look at (Y/N).
“(Y/N)?” He questioned in a disoriented daze, his voice deep and slightly raspy.
She didn’t answer she just stared at him, breathing heavily from the adrenaline.
Legolas casually rubbed his eyes with one hand before speaking again in a heavy whisper, “What is it?”
“Legolas?!” She hissed. Her voice was full of exasperated shock, annoyance, and anger. “What the fuck are you doing?!”
His brows pulled together as he looked at her in surprise, the curse in her sentence heightening his attention slightly.
(Y/N) clarified the question in irritation when he did not respond, “Why were you spooning me?!”
“I…was just…I mean I….”
The young women rolled her eyes before reaching outwards. A loud smack echoed amongst the emptiness of the night—drawing the attention of the uncrowned king on watch.
“LEGOLAS!” She whisper-yelled, “Wake up!”
The elf was cupping his cheek and his expression was filled with bewilderment—lips parted, eyes wide.
Cruel? Maybe, but it worked.
“Why were you cuddling me?” She repeated once more.
“You…you have been having nightmares. Crying in your sleep. This has been the only way to—“
She jabbed a finger at him, “Stop. Just stop.” She glared at him, “I have not been having nightmares.”
Legolas frowned, “Yes, you have.”
(Y/N) narrowed her eyes and stood up, “I don’t know what you are talking about.” She crossed her arms. “I. Don’t. Get. Nightmares.”
The elf sighed, “(Y/N)…”
But she turned on her heal and stomped off.
Legolas let out yet another exasperated sigh. Did she think that he thought less of her for her nightmares? Why is she refusing to admit to them?
“Go after her,” the voice of Aragorn stated plainly.
Legolas snapped his head upwards to look at his friend. He was unaware that Aragorn had been watching and now embarrassment filled his soul. Had Aragorn really witnessed all of that? Even the slap?
The elf pushed those thoughts from his mind for he had more important this to worry about —(Y/N). He grabbed his two long-knives and went after the young woman.
……
Legolas made his way through the large rocks and jagged territory until he found her perched on a particularly large bolder, overlooking the land. He sat down next to her and held out one of the silver weapons.
“It is unwise to go off in your own unarmed.”
(Y/N) pulled her knees to her chest, ignoring him.
The Elven Prince sighed. He gently placed the one knife next to her and let his hands play with the second one. His gaze wandered across the horizon as the two sat in frustrated silence. The sun was just beginning to rise, the assortment of brilliant colors not yet bleeding among the stars. If it wasn’t for the tension between them, the elf would have felt at peace—which was rare during these dark times.
It was a while before anyone spoke.
“(Y/N), please do not lie to me,” Legolas stated gently. “I know dreams have been tormenting you and I do not think any less of you because of it. Tell me what bothers you so.”
A long pause stretched between them before (Y/N) released a shaky breath. Her eyes did not move from the landscape before them. “I have seen life leave so many—brutal, bloody deaths. Strider and I have travelled far across Arda, yet it is all the same—death. And now? Now that the ring has been found, is there to be any hope? I cannot watch another I care for die. Not again.”
Legolas glanced down at the knife in his hand, “At night they come to you, don’t they? You see their faces? That is what haunts your heart?”
(Y/N) slowly drew her gaze towards the elf. “They come for you too?” She whispered quietly.
Legolas looked at her softly, “They used to, many ages ago.”
Trying not to show her desperation she spoke again, “How did you make it stop?”
Legolas cleared his throat and took a moment to collect his thoughts. “I focused on what I could—the happiness in the present. Anchor your heart on what is in front of you—your friends. Aragorn, Gandalf, Boromir, Gimli, the hobbits….me. We are all bonded by this fellowship. Take comfort in it.”
The elf scooted closer to her and tucked a loose strand of hair behind her her ear. His touch lingered on her cheek and jaw. “Do not push your friends from you.”
(Y/N) lowered her gaze as a light blush crept up to her cheeks at the elf’s gentle trace.
“(Y/N),” he whispered. Yet she would not meet his eye. Legolas cautious tucked two fingers under her chin and forced her to look at him. “It hurts my heart to see you in such pain. Why did you not come to me about this?”
She hesitated, “I did not want any of you see me as weak—especially as the only woman here.”
Legolas shook his head, “I do not. You are a warrior and this is something all warriors have to bare.”
(Y/N) nodded slightly and turned her head towards the sunrise. The two watched in silence as orange and pinks stretched across the sky, waking up the earth. It was a beautiful sight really. The soft noises of nature reached their ears, and as (Y/N) listened to the songs of the birds she allowed her mind to drift into thought. The elf’s words did indeed bring her some comfort and, quite frankly, she felt stupid for thinking the others would not understand. They were all warriors, were they not? Except the hobbits that is. They have seen the horrors of war and surely they would be reminded of it daily for it was not something one could easily forget. Though one question, slight unrelated, lingered in her mind.
She glanced at the elf beside her, “Legolas? What did you mean when you said it hurts your heart to see my pain?”
He glanced at his feet which were dangling over the edge of the rock before answering, “Do you not know?”
Her brows pulled together in confusion, clearly not understanding.
Legolas hesitantly leaned in. When (Y/N) did not back away, he gently pressed his lips against hers. Slowly, she responded, moving her mouth with his. The Elven Prince’s hand weaved its way into her locks of hair, feeling the silky strands as if they were ripples in a running river. (Y/N) then cupped his cheek with one hand, and used the other to trail up his muscular chest. The two pulled closer, desperate for the comforting touch of the other. The kiss was tender, soft, and wet. It was something they held onto tightly. It was the consolation from the horrors of the world, and they had found that safety in each other. Eventually, they pulled away, but reluctant to lose the other’s warmth they resting their foreheads together. The blonde elf softly caressed her cheek while they absorbed the comfort of the moment.
“Legolas?” (Y/N) whispered.
“Hmm?”
“I’m sorry for slapping you.”
A light chuckle bellowed from the elf’s chest and his lips curved into a smile. “To be fair, I somewhat deserved it.”