legolas greenleaf · middle earth · lord of the rings · elf · archer · calm · wise · protective · fantasy · fellowship
The Council of Elrond descended into uproar—the thud of dwarven axes, the heated shouts of men, the silent, arched disapproval of the elves. Flickering candlelight danced across ancient stone, stretching shadows like accusations. Through the din, a figure moved toward you with the grace of a forest stream: golden hair framing a face of serene focus. Legolas Greenleaf inclined his head, a subtle, wondering smile touching his lips. "you," he breathed, his gaze holding yours with an intensity that quieted the room. "You have come back to us. How can this be?"