The celebration in the courtyard is still at it's peak when Legolas and I stumble back onto the balcony high above. We had sprinted from the kitchens, ignoring the incredulous looks from the servants as we dashed through the halls like a pair of fools.
Legolas' hand is still tightly clasped in mine as we attempt to catch our breath, the tray full of our stolen pastries heavy in the other.
He meets my gaze, cheeks pink with exhilaration and hair lightly tousled.
"I'm certain the servants now think we've had a little too much to drink tonight."
I laugh. "I can't blame them."
We slip into a comfortable silence as our gazes turn to the scene below. Our hands are still clasped, fingers becoming intertwined sometime during the rush of our flight. My nerves prickle with excitement where the heat of his skin meets mine, twisting my stomach into knots. And even though every instinct is telling me to do so, I can't bring myself to let go.
"You should try this one."
I turn back to Legolas, a round pastry now in his hand, it's smooth white-chocolate coating silvery in the starlight.
A light smile plays on his lips as he explains, "It's my favorite."
He brings it to my mouth, sparks shooting through me at the ever-so-slight touch of his thumb against my lip as I take a bite.
The pastry is overwhelmingly decadent, sending my taste bud's into a frenzy and yet all I can think about is the slight brush of his thumb against my lip. The shiver it sends down my spine.
I shake the thoughts from my head, focusing my attention back on the pastry.
"It's delicious. What is it called?"
He pops the rest of it into his mouth. "Celeb-Melui."
Silver sweets.
I grin at the name and pick out another pastry from the tray, this one dark and shaped like a rose.
"This one is my favorite. Arwen and I would always try to make them at home and to the dismay of the head chef, end up with a chocolaty mess instead."
He laughs, the reflection of the stars twinkling in his eyes as he brings his lips down to my fingers and gently takes the delicate pastry into his mouth.
His eyes widen as he chews. "Is that berry I taste?"
I laugh at the surprise written across his face, nodding. "You can imagine how difficult they are to make."
We continue to feed each other sweets, sharing tidbits of information as we exchange them, the sounds of our laughter echoing down to the courtyard. Eventually, the pastries diminish, as does the lively chatter and activity of the guests below our perch. The minstrels' pace goes from upbeat to gentle, their notes sweet and slow.
Their light melody floats up to us now, soft and lilting; a lullaby. It wraps around us, a soothing calm in the flurry of the evening as I watch the stragglers still dancing below us, a content smile playing on my lips. I'm faintly aware of Legolas' warm gaze on me but it isn't until his fingers brush mine that I turn my attention back to him.
His eyes twinkle, a reflection of the stars' pale light, and fixed solely on me as he takes my hand in his and bringing it up to his lips, brushes a faint kiss along my knuckles. My heart responds with a leap in my chest.
"May I have this dance, my lady?"
His smile is warm and inviting, tugging me toward him and yet something issues a soft warning in the back of my mind and I falter, glancing down at the crowd of revelers still far below us. But Legolas' hand only tightens in mine, the scrape of his calluses against my fingers a familiar comfort.
"Forget them." My eyes find him again, and he takes a tentative step closer, taking my other hand in his.
His words are no more than a breath, warming the air between us. "It's just you and me, Celé. No one else."
I study his gaze, lit as if with a spark, and yet hidden behind it is a shy hopefullness, a longing that sends a pleasant tingling throughout my body. And I find myself giving him a nod.
Warmth floods his eyes and a corner of his mouth quirks, my heart responding with a light flutter. His eyes never leave mine as he leads me away from the railing to the middle of the wide balcony. The world fades as his hand finds my waist, tugging me closer. His touch sends a thrill down my spine, my skin tingling where his fingers warm my waist and I settle my hand on his shoulder.
And then we're moving to the notes of the song, Legolas' footsteps light as he leads me around the balcony. My eyes find his, glowing softly in the starlight, my heart leaping at the warmth of his body so close to mine. I try to ignore it but my mind snags on the velvety softness of of his tunic against my fingertips, the contrast it presents to the firm muscle shifting with each step underneath.
We sway softly to the music but soon the melody begins to pick up, our steps unfaltering as they rise to meet it's speed. Legolas' eyes are bright as he grins at me and I find myself grinning back despite the mess of emotions within me.
The music swells, reaching it's peak, and then he's spinning me, the thick velvet layers of my dress fluttering at my heels, and I can't help the laughter that escapes my lips. Elation bubbles up inside my chest, buzzing with the sensation of him, his touch, and his laugh in response to mine, as he twirls me around.
The tune begins to slow and he catches me back in his arms. His hand settles on the small of my back and my breath hitches at the touch, the warmth of his palm seeping through the fabric of my dress to heat the skin beneath.
Our steps slow back to a lilt, in time with the music, and I find myself idly tracing the pattern of the golden embroidery at his shoulder as we sway. When I meet his eyes again, they are aglow with exhilaration and something else.
I feel my cheeks go pink, a shy smile tugging at my lips as I drop my gaze, suddenly self conscious of my wind-swept hair and flushed face.
"You're quite good at this," I breathe with a slight laugh.
His eyes twinkle as he raises a brow. "Surprised?"
My heart flutters at his rougish grin and I give him a smile. "Pleasantly so."
He shrugs, chuckling. "I am a prince, you know."
"True, but so are my brothers, and Elladan and Elrohir can't dance for their lives." I grin, supressing my scoff.
He gives me a mischievous smirk. "Perhaps I should give them lessons."
"Oh, trust me, they can't be taught. My mother tried."
The words are past my lips before I can truly process them. I feel my smile fall.
Legolas, noticing the shift, slows his steps.
The cold memory slips back into my mind, a shard of ice amidst all the warmth of the evening. Amidst the warmth of the Prince still holding me against him.
I feel his grip on my waist tighten, a slight tug pulling me closer to him. A protective instinct, and yet I wonder if he's also afraid I'll let go. But the fear that had previously pulled me away from him is now silent, and instead of being overwhelming, the warmth of his embrace is comforting, soothing.
For a moment we are silent but then-
"Tell me about her."
I glance up at him, the instinctive denial already on my lips, but his gaze is gentle and utterly open. And as I continue to study him, my uncertainty fades, its icy grip on my mind receding with every second that passes.
"What do you want to know?" My voice is a whisper in the night, but it echoes as loud as thunder between us.
I feel him still at my question, noting how his eyes widen slightly at my words, at the tentative breach in the wall that had existed between us ever that desolate night a week ago, posed within that simple question.
"Anything."
My gaze strays from his as my mind wanders, memories flooding in, taking shape before my eyes.
"She was kind... and gentle. With nimble fingers and healing hands. And as beautiful as the frosty stars that shiver in the heavens. Her voice like the soothing trickle of a stream over river rocks." I swallow against the lump in my throat. "And she was incredibly headstrong. A stern teacher and advisor."
I finally bring myself to look at him again, the prick of tears stinging the corners of my eyes, threatening to fall. "But she loved her children. Very much."
Legolas says nothing, simply watching me with saddened eyes. My chest tightens as I feel a hot tear slip down my cheek, and then the warm brush of his thumb against my skin, wiping it away.
"Tell me it gets easier, Legolas." My voice is strained. "Please. Tell me this burden becomes easier to bear."
A shadow passes over his face, a flicker of sorrow marring those beautiful eyes, but he simply shakes his head. "I wish I could, love."
The tears begin to fall freely now and his palm cradles my head, resting against his chest.
"But as time passes, even if the pain never leaves you, you might begin to forgive yourself."
I stand there, face buried in his chest. Only when the raging of my heart has calmed do I find the strength to lift my head.
And I find tears bright in his eyes. Not for me, but for a sorrow long-passed, one that has left a scar.
The music has stopped. Legolas' hand remains on my waist though I barely notice, my attention solely focused on the glistening eyes that now hold mine.
I watch the Prince, he who bears the same pains, the same scars. And suddenly, all those months spent pushing him away seem like wasted time when really, I should have been leaning on him.
His sorrow was the same. It was a sorrow he had buried long ago, but he'd endured it alone. It was pain that was brought back to life in my own troubles. Pain he was willing to re-live to help me.
All those moments when I cried alone, I longed for someone to hold me, to tell me everything would be alright. And I hadn't realized it then, but it wasn't Elladan, or Elrohir, or Ada or Arwen whom I had wanted.
It was him.
A silvery tear slips down his face, catching the starlight. My heart reacts before my head and I find myself taking a step closer. Raising a palm to his cheek, I brush a featherlight kiss against the tear, my lips tingling with the warmth of his skin. I feel his body go entirely still under my touch, every sense now alert, but my erratic heart pushes me on. Bringing my lips lower, I brush another kiss against the slope of his jaw, atop the white scar that runs along it.
My breathing is heavy, the adrenaline making me dizzy as I pause, bringing my face back to study him. His eyes glimmer with cobalt fire, devouring me with such intent that it knocks the breath straight from my lungs. My heart pounds a frantic beat against my ribs as my gaze dip down to his lips. We are so close now, the heat of his breath against my lips sending a shiver down my spine. My blood hums within my veins, like liquid fire, a magnet tugging me toward him.
A spark flickers in his darkened eyes. "Celebríel."
My name is no more than a breath from his lips yet it sends a shiver down my spine.
Something inside me releases as I close the gap between us and capture his lips with mine.
Every thought flies out of my head at the sensation of Legolas' mouth on mine.
My body sings in response to his touch, every nerve buzzing, awakening underneath my skin. It feels so right, so natural. I mentally scold myself for pushing down the thousands of emotions that surfaced in me over the past two months, triggered by even a simple glance from him.
His lips move gently on mine, tasting faintly of wine and chocolate. My hand rests on his chest and I find myself pulling him closer, desperate for more.
His grip on my waist tightens, bringing a hand up beneath my hair to cup the back of my neck.
His touch is passionate, yet soft and sweet, and– a breathless gasp escapes me as his thumb trails down the sensitive skin of my neck– long overdue.
Our lips move together, bodies pressed against each other tightly enough to feel his heart thundering beneath his chest, no doubt matching the erratic pace of my own.
We finally draw apart, only the need for air separating us. My hands have somehow wound themselves in his hair, tangling in the loose, silvery locks.
A light shiver trails down my spine at the featherlight touch of his fingers on the bare skin of my shoulders. His face is flushed and I can feel heat radiating off of mine as well as our breath mingles in the cool air. I lift my gaze to meet his eyes, glowing like pale fire in the starlight, alight with both exhilaration and bewilderment.
"Celé..." His breathing is ragged as his eyes flit to my parted lips, heightening the desire raging in my chest.
"Shh..." I breathe, brushing my lips against the corner of his mouth. "Just kiss me."
His lips waste no time in finding mine again and I melt into the kiss, my hands finding the back of his neck and resting there. He twists his hand into the loose waves of my hair, his other hand holding me firmly at the waist, as our lips move in rhythm with one another, our need for the other overwhelming.
I feel myself leaning backwards as he dominates me, his hand a gentle push on the curve of my back, holding me against him. A small gasp escapes my lips when my back hits the cool wall of the hallway, and then he's kissing me again, stifling any noise that escapes from me. He releases my mouth, pausing only to twist my hair to one side, before his lips brush against the tender skin of my neck. My knees buckle as he places open-mouthed kisses to the sensitive spots along my neck. Every touch of his lips leaves my skin tingling in their wake. I twist my hands into his hair as he continues his path downward, trailing kisses along my neck.
And then his mouth is on mine once more.
I'm drunk with the taste of his lips, the pressure of his body against mine, and my reckless heart is ablaze, demanding more, more, more but I find myself touching my fingertips to his lips, halting his fervent touch.
A flicker of uncertainty darts across his eyes, but I give him a soft smile, brushing a gentle kiss against his jaw to chase away his doubt.
The chill night air cools my heated skin as I settle a hand atop his chest, over his heart, feeling it's erratic pulse gradually slow, returning to a steady beat in time with mine.
"I want this," I breathe, letting my hand settle on his cheek as my thumb brushes over his lips. "But I want to do it right."
I search his face, his gaze warm and patient, and for once, my heart is unwavering within my chest, decided. "I want to learn to love you."
Legolas' eyes are bright, locked on mine as he brushes the hair away from my face.
"Take your time," he murmurs, his thumb tracing light circles against my cheek. "I think I'm already there."
His lips meet mine once more in a sweet, chaste kiss, and my heart swells in my chest.
And when we break apart, still entwined in each others arms as we watch the slow dawn chase away the fading starlight, for the first time in months, a small part of me feels a little less alone.