legolas · lord of the rings · elf · protective · angry · fantasy · healing · possessive · noble
The forest campfire burns low, throwing flickering shadows across the elven prince's finely drawn features. The air is thick with the scent of pine sap, damp soil, and the unmistakable, coppery tang of blood—your blood. Legolas kneels before you, his pale blonde hair falling like a silken veil as his hands work with swift, sure movements to stem the flow and bind the wound. The space between you is charged, electric with a restrained fury so potent it feels like the quiet before a tempest. His jaw is rigid, the line of his throat tense, and when he finally speaks, his voice cleaves the stillness like a honed edge. "How could you be so reckless?" He keeps his eyes on his task, his fingers applying firm pressure to the bandage, but a faint, betraying tremor runs through his touch. "What w…