The Unforgiven { Legolas x OC - LotR Fanfiction}

58. The Elven-Queen's Appurtenance

The sky was cloaked in deep night, though the veil of darkness was beginning to thin. Dawn stirred on the horizon, not yet risen, but breathing. Above them, stars still shimmered in quiet glory, and the moon—waning and weary—cast its pale light across the Woodland Realm. A soft breeze drifted through the open balcony, brushing gently against fair skin, stirring the stillness, and waking the pair from their slumber.

Legolas and Ethir had slept for a few hours. It was enough. Enough to ease the storm inside her and restore a measure of clarity. Her anger, once ablaze, had settled into glowing coals.

"You're already awake," Legolas whispered, fingers lazily curling through the strands of her hair. His voice was quiet, intimate, as if afraid to stir the peace.

Ethir remained nestled against him, her eyes half-lidded, her body relaxed, but her mind already elsewhere.

"The Elvenking will not overlook my behavior," she murmured, eyes fixed on the carved ceiling above. "My mind keeps replaying every word I said, every move I made. I can't stop thinking about it."

"Because you meant every word," Legolas replied, gently but truthfully. "And for that, you may never be forgiven. Even if Ada chooses to let it go, the King... the King rarely forgets."

"Are you trying to excite me, Legolas?" Ethir teased, a sly smirk lifting her lips. "Declaring war with the Elvenking? I might just stay in Mirkwood forever to see how that plays out."

Legolas chuckled, a wry smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth. "That path leads nowhere—neither left nor right. Only straight into your own doom. No matter how much it thrills that wicked streak of yours, there's no winning that war."

His imagination betrayed him for a moment—flashing with a vision of Ethir and his father locked in a verbal duel, the throne room echoing with her defiant declarations. He shook his head with a bemused sigh.

Ethir narrowed her eyes. "You'd enjoy that too much," she muttered, then added more seriously, "But, I never asked... why did you bring me to your chambers?"

Legolas lifted a brow at her, feigning innocence. "You're not escaping again. That much is certain." His tone was teasing, but warmth stirred in his gaze. "In truth... this isn't just my room. It's ours. We are meant to be betrothed, are we not? I know it was a terrible way to initiate the bond—and I plan to correct that today. But regardless, we are meant to be joined."

Ethir straightened, pulling slightly away from him, her expression puzzled. "You make it sound as though the bond is already sealed. But I thought we agreed it would happen... later?"

Legolas met her gaze, calm and sincere. "The exact moment doesn't matter. We'll know when we're ready. But publicly, we should be seen as a pair. Formally recognized—whether we remain in Mirkwood or depart. And Ethir..." he hesitated before adding, "Lately, I find myself wanting to stay."

Her cheeks colored, and her voice softened. "Then let us be seen as a couple," she agreed. "I love the journey, Legolas, the wandering. But I've always longed for a steady home. And if that home is here in Mirkwood—then I accept it. I want to prove to your father that I'm worthy to stand at your side. But..." her voice dropped, "I'll never say that aloud to him."

Legolas smiled. "Then it's settled. We'll stay and begin building a life here. But first, I must speak to Ada. There are still things left unsaid." His tone became more practical. "You should rest a bit longer. Later, find Nienna—she's the best seamstress in the realm. Ask her for anything you wish to wear. My quarters are yours now: the bath, the study, the balcony—all of it. And one more thing..."

He paused and fixed her with a serious look.

"In Mirkwood, breakfast and dinner are communal. You'll be expected to attend. Only a valid reason allows you to be absent. And being angry at the Elvenking?" he arched a brow. "That's not valid."