The halls of Rivendell were quieter than usual, filled with a bittersweet kind of music—the soft melodies of elves preparing for their journey across the sea. Lantern light flickered against carved pillars, shadows swaying with the movement of those departing. It should have been beautiful. It should have been peaceful. But all you could feel was the weight pressing against your chest.

Legolas stood beside you, his expression unreadable as he watched his kin make ready to leave. The silver starlight cast a glow upon his fair features, but his eyes—clear as a summer sky—held something deeper. A storm unspoken.

“You should go with them,” you whispered, your voice almost lost in the evening breeze. “This is your home, your destiny.”

Legolas turned to you then, his gaze sharp yet unbearably soft. “And what of my heart?” he asked quietly. “Shall I leave that behind as well?”

Your breath caught. “Legolas…”

He stepped closer, his fingers brushing against yours in a touch so light it could have been the wind. “I have lived an age already, seen the world in all its wonder. But if you are not among the stars I seek, then I shall remain where you shine brightest.” His voice was steady, unwavering. “For what is eternity, if not spent beside you?”

The lump in your throat made it impossible to speak. The thought of him staying, of giving up the undying lands, of choosing a mortal fate for you—it was too much, too overwhelming.