LOTR/ TH Imagines

Forbidden Night- Legolas

-.-Edited-.-

Requested by: Anonymous

A/n: Mild smut. Please read respectfully and responsibly. I do not write smut unless it is requested-- as I am not the most comfortable with it.

'We must meet. A fortnight before the Feast of Starlight. There is something you must know.'

You had sent your message days ago by your quickest and most loyal rider. Then you left for the Carrock, an island in the Great River Anduin between the Misty Mountains and Mirkwood Forest. It was the place you shared with Legolas. You met here secretly as often as you could without raising suspicion of your absence. It was hard: you were the princess of Rivendell and he was the prince of Mirkwood. The mountains between you and the difference of lifestyles caused difficulties in your relationship. Those, despite everything you loved him-- and he loved you.

"What's wrong?" A gentle hand was placed on your shoulder. Legolas stroked your hair away from your face and kissed your cheek.

You sighed heavily. "I am betrothed, melamin," your voice wavered, "It was arranged when Arwen was born but now that she is married to Aragorn, I must do it in her stead. I didn't know about it until the day I wrote that letter."

Legolas's hand fell off your shoulder. You turned to see that his eyes were wide.

"Who is it?"

"Lord Clordaer of Lorien-- I don't know if I've even met him before." Your interior dam broke and a few tears streamed down your cheeks. You saw the look on his face. "I love you, Legolas. If I had a choice I would choose you, always."

Legolas murmured, "Tonight is our last night." His eyebrows knitted together and his lips pressed into a thin line.

"I am afraid so."

He shook his head. Legolas stepped forward and grabbed your hands. "We could stay here-- Don't go."

"My father's mind is set on this arrangement," you mumbled and stepped away from him. "I have to go through with it. There's no other way."

"There is always another way." Legolas caressed your cheek and placed his other hand on your waist. His lips brushed against yours, not innocently like a tease, but fiery, passionate, and desperate. You wanted to pull away, to say that this was wrong, but you lost yourself. Your senses were overwhelmed by the prince: the smell of the forest, the warmth of his body against yours, and the beating of your hearts together. All you could think about were the years you spent together without anyone knowing.

"Y/n," he whispered slowly, intimately. You gasped as his lips traveled to your neck. He nipped at all of your sensitive spots and pleasured at the throaty moans that followed. He lifted you off of your feet and your legs wrapped around his waist.

Your fingers clawed through his hair, tangling it effectively. You let his quiver slip off his shoulder and started working on the laces of his tunic. When he sat you down on a soft bed of grass, you started taking off the rest of his clothes. Your fingers traced across his bare skin and you marveled at the toned muscles years of archery had given him.

Legolas took his time with your clothing. You could feel the wind and grass once you were bare in front of him. You locked eyes, and that was all you needed to feel safe with each other. The pretense fell again. Every kiss had a raw intensity and your heart beat faster.

His hands and lips began to roam-- your collarbone, your breasts, stomach. His touch was light and it made your back arch in anticipation. Legolas whispered sweet nothings in your ear; he told you of what was to come next.