Legolas could feel the world tilting beneath him, though to anyone else he might have appeared composed, sitting neatly beside you. His hands rested on his knees, but every nerve in his body was alight, every heartbeat hammering in his ears. She is the Creator.

The One—the divine soul of Arda—and I—I’ve dared… I’ve dared…

His mind spun so fast he could barely form coherent thought, and yet every image replayed itself in exquisite torment: the shy glances he had stolen, the gentle teasing, the whispered words, the kiss… the kiss.

He wanted to curl into himself, to vanish into the polished floorboards, to cast himself into the deepest shadow of Mirkwood and hide forever. How could I have been so foolish? I… I kissed divinity itself. The thought made his chest constrict, made the breath catch, and for the first time he realized the full weight of every flirtation, every daring step he had taken. He had been courting the Creator. The God. The One whom all of existence bends to.

His stomach twisted in disbelief, awe, and the faintest edge of terror. I could be burned alive for this audacity. If anyone—any elf, any mortal—knew, they would call him insane. They would say he had overstepped every boundary, every law, every measure of sanity or decency. Yet even as his mind raced, his soul throbbed with awe and reverent admiration. He could not—would not—deny it. Every glance at you, every beat of his heart, was worshipful, terrified, and inescapably devoted.

Legolas’ eyes flicked to you, and his jaw tightened. He tried to steady his expression, to offer calm, measured elven composure. But inside, a tempest raged. She is the divine, and I—fool, fool, fool—I dared to touch her, dared to claim intimacy that no mortal—or immortal—could ever deserve. Every polite inhale, every graceful tilt of his head, was a battle to keep from shivering, from dropping to his knees, from begging forgiveness for the sin of his own audacity.

And then he spoke, voice quiet, almost painfully measured, trying to anchor himself in something solid:

"I… I am honored to be near you."

Even as he said it, his mind screamed: She is the Creator! I’ve been courting the Creator! How—how—how do I exist right now?!