I HAVE AN A LEVEL TOMORROW AND INSTEAD IM POSTING FANFICTION THAT I WROTE 3 YEARS AG O
Imagine getting annoyed with Legolas over a tiny thing, and him feeling guilty about it.
You squatted down next to the pot and gave it one last stir, the aromas of herbs and meat filling your nostrils. It was hard to find decent food in a forest, but you thought you had done a good enough job. You looked around you and smiled to yourself, Boromir was teaching Frodo how to fight with a sword, with rather amusing results. The tiny hobbit was almost unable to lift the weapon, let alone sufficiently fight a grown man with it.
You sighed, brushed your hands against your knees, and stood up. It was only the third week of your journey with the Fellowship to Mount Doom, and you were already exhausted. Elrond, the elf, had asked you to join the Fellowship, thinking that your keen senses and aptitude with a bow would help fend off any orcs that may cross your path, but the only thing you had managed to shoot so far was a small grey squirrel, that was slowly bubbling away in a pot beneath you.
'Are you alright (your name)?', Legolas asked from behind you, his breath tickling your ear. You swore loudly and jumped, causing the rest of the Fellowship to turn around and stare at you, startled.
Legolas backed away from you, his face concerned, 'Have I offended you in some way my lady?'
'No, no,' you breathed heavily, 'You, you just surprised me. Don't creep up on people like that,' you said irritability. A lack of sleep and a hungry belly didn't equal for a good mood.
'I'm starving,' moaned Pippin, followed quickly in suit by Merry, 'Yeah, is it nearly ready?'
'Yes, yes it is,' you answered, and the company quickly put down whatever it was that they were doing and gathered around the large black pot, starving.
You served the soup out to everyone and were just about to sit down when you heard a scathing snort from Legolas. You glanced up at him and saw him staring at his bowl with mild disgust.
'I knew that we wouldn't be expecting fine dining on this travel, but I have to say, my palette is rather more used to elvin foods, which I must add, smell infinitely more appealing.' his nose wrinkled in distaste.
You stood up, leaving your bowl on the ground, a death stare on your face. The rest of the Fellowship shifted uncomfortably, knowing that, when you got angry, you were like an inferno.
'Excuse me?' you said through gritted teeth, giving Legolas one last chance to redeem himself.
He looked at you confused, one eyebrow raising over his sky blue eyes, 'I... I was merely saying that your soup wasn't up to my standards.'
A sharp collective intake of breath was taken by everyone witnessing the scene. You knew of the customs of elves, where criticisms were not seen as bad, but merely a way in which to improve yourself. You knew that Legolas didn't understand how a non-elf would see his remark as an insult, but you didn't care. You were tired, you were hungry, and you were pissed off.
'Well then,' you growled, stepping forwards until you were right in front of him, your eyes level with his shoulder. You had to strain your neck to look him in the eyes. His face was confused, but you didn't want to explain, you just wanted to vent your anger out in any way.
'How about I chop one of your legs off, stick that in the pot, see if that improves the flavour?' You were shouting now, and Legolas had taken a step back, his face anguished. He could see that you were upset, but didn't know what to do about it.
Meanwhile, you were still ranting, 'WELL WHY DON'T YOU TRY TO MAKE A MEAL?' you shouted, poking his firm chest with your index finger, 'WHY DON'T YOU CREATE 'FINE DINING' OUT OF TREE BARK AND SQUIRREL MEAT? I DON'T SEE YOU HELPING TO COOK ANYTHING!'
Legolas' eyes widened as he realised why you were upset, 'I... I'm so sorry,' he stammered, his long blonde hair tickling your nose, 'I... I see now I was rude. Elves do not get offended by criticism, you see, we merely take it in our stride.'
'ARE YOU CALLING ME TOUCHY??!!' you roared, causing him to take another step back.
He grabbed your forearms, the heat from his large hands leaking into your cold skin. You struggled in vain, but his grasp on you was tight, and you quickly gave up.
'(your name), he said, looking you straight in the eyes, 'I am so sorry for any offence I may have caused you, I can assure you, it was not my intention.'
You were about to come back at him with another scathing retort, but teh look in his eyes made you stop. He seemed truly sorry for having offended you, and you knew that it was petty to take the argument any further. You were all tired, and a row was the last thing that teh Fellowship needed for morale.
You sighed, and shrugged out of his grip, 'I know, Legolas. I apologise, I was out if order. Please forgive me.'
He smiled and sat down. 'Well, we can both agree to be sorry together,' he mumbled, making you smile, 'Come, sit down, you must be hungry.'
'Starving,' you responded, and perched next to him with a bowl of squirrel soup, the warmth from his side comforting as the night drew nearer, and the sky darkened, basking your company in a moonlit glow.