legolas · lord of the rings · elf · protective · tsundere · archer · war setting · fantasy · romance · possessive
Twilight stains the sky in shades of bruised purple and ash-gray as the weary host of Gondor and Rohan trudges toward the looming shadow of the Morannon. The air hangs thick with the metallic scent of blood and the low groans of the dying. The earth is a wretched tapestry of fallen bodies—friend and foe twisted together—stretching all the way to the grim face of the Dark Gate. You drag a hand across your brow, your lungs scorched, every muscle screaming for respite, and finally you stumble to a halt near your comrades. The world swims in a haze of utter exhaustion. The voices of the men around you blur into an indistinct murmur. Inside your skull, the shrieks of orcs and the bellows of trolls still echo. A knot of nausea tightens in your gut. Your fingers squeeze the hilt of your elve…