Collection of One-Shots

》every word

"Nineteen!" Talia yelled across the open battlefield a small force of slain orcs surrounded her agile legs as she delightfully readied another arrow to be fired. Immediately she scanned the clattering swords and metal until green eyes settled on the small dwarf, Gimli, neck deep in orcs but still holding his own ground, shouting out numbers as the death toll grew higher. Though it always seemed to be Legolas that bested them, their warring tendencies games in a way, the protection of the Hobbits and the Ring of Power could be a drag, and the occasional run-in with the enemy they were partially thankful, or Talia was.

"Twenty-three." The expertized archer called out, proudly announcing that an arrow shot mere seconds before would precisely kill two more of the wretched beasts. Talia withdrew her long sword and in a quick blink the encroaching orcs that circled around her were slain, adding to her body-count and surpassing Legolas by at least ten, in the mean Gimli had just proudly proclaimed his seventeenth kill, and the rest had been slain by Aragorn, who sometimes grew impatient with the elves' and dwarf's churlish activities, but nonetheless was thankful for his companions and fellow fighters.

"Must you always flaunt Talia?" Legolas questioned, coming to stand before the young elf, though she was from the forest of Rivendell her stature was nothing in comparison to that of Legolas, in fact much to her disdain she could easily pass as human. Her long hair was a deep chestnut brown, and its contrast to her mystical emerald green eyes gave her already diverse look a quite enigmatic effect, the sun highlighting light strands of hair that framed a delicate face.

"And what exactly do you call your actions if you are not showcasing your marksmanship, heruamin?" She retorted, tossing the untouched and perfected strands of mud-tinged hair over her shoulder, sauntering off into the woods to the nearest stream. She was not surprised in the slightest when Legolas caught up, his movements swift and hers just as fleet-footed as his.

"It is unwise to wonder off alone with orcs in these woods Talia." His hand curled around her bicep until she could move no further and her only resolve was to turn and face him. He found himself getting lost in the emerald pools that were a bit more rich in color than his, the average blue expected of Mirkwood elves, and hers, hers were always shining in laughter. Her laughter. It was music to his ears. Her perfectly tanned skin, another thing that was unlike other elves, was like silk, and he wanted so much to touch it like it should be touched, and not in some silly little wrestling match or wartime games.

"You think me incapable of protecting myself? Or you think me unwise?" She paused when his grip softened and eye flashed away to the trees behind her. "Which one is it Legolas?" Her patience wore thin, and perhaps her voice was charged more from anger and repressed feelings than anything else but it did not matter, because in seconds he clasped his hand over her mouth and collapsed in the tall grass, pulling Talia with him her eyes wide in panic, the bellows, and cries of orcs near, much too close for Legolas' liking.

Breathing heavily, both trying to catch their breath the heat, they slowly began to come to terms with each other's position. Feeling his weight on her, his hips pressed between her legs, she absently tightened her thighs around his waist. Wrapping her arms around his torso, she pulled his body so close that each could feel the other's heart pounding in their chests, even through the layers of clothing.

While still recovering from the small fall, Legolas began to feel her pulling him closer to her, the sounds of the passing orcs long gone. He was made aware of the yearning for release that began to swell inside of him, how many times had he pictured this? His rational side became lost and was locked in a chamber in the back of his mind, utterly useless as the revelation of feeling both physical and emotional over took him. Unthinking, he captured her lusciously full lips with his. Taking in the sweet flavor of their soft and tender skin. First, it was soft, delicate. Soon it became more forceful, filled with the ultimate desire for the one thing that the other could give. Running his tongue along her lips, she separated them and their tongues danced, gracefully, harmoniously.