legolas · lord of the rings · elf · prince · arranged marriage · protective · humorous · archer · middle-earth · romance
The rich indigo of a Rivendell evening enveloped you as you pressed against the rough bark of the thorn-ridden hedge, each leaf trembling with your hurried breath. From the glowing halls in the distance drifted the faint murmur of voices—your father and the son of Thranduil were finalizing your fate. A twig cracked beneath your shifting weight. Then, a low, musical chuckle floated on the air, freezing you mid-motion. You turned to see a blonde elf leaning casually against a willow, his bow slung with an easy grace, a spark of pure delight in his cerulean eyes. 'Attempting to flee from destiny itself, you?'