"Thirty - two. Still have half of my arrows left". The fellowship had parted ways. Now it's just you, Aragorn, Gimli and Legolas, heading to Rohan. Another close encounter with some orcs, another friendly competition as if your lives didn't depend on it.

The sun has long gone to rest, your two comrades took the lead to scope out the area, you hang back with the Elvish prince, eyes and ears heedful and vigilant. His eyes however, are trained on your face and the way your skin reflects the moonshine. His mind keeps going back to that night. Brawls and gambling, a caravan of travellers, weary Hobbits, a drunk Dwarf and a bustling tavern. Legolas remembers it as if it were yesterday, he can almost smell the cheese and wine, he can also remember the warmth that seeped through his bones when you kissed him.

It only happened once, it was a fleeting moment, a blur of drunken mirth and a kiss or two. Unfortunately, he's hooked. All he wants is to feel what you made him feel, what you still make him feel.

"You only have that many arrows left because I had to go back and fetch them" you tease. He scoffs quietly. Oh he's tried, to recreate that split second, to have your lips on him for a little longer this time. You always turn him down, so gently that he didn't even have it in him to be embarrassed. But with Aragorn and Gimli far flung, paired with the night sky and a twinkling serenity, those feelings start to pool in his chest once more.

You pluck a flower, twirling it in between your fingers "But, you did well" you admit softly. Legolas can't help but watch your mouth as you speak "you think so?" he murmurs in his throat.

"How about a reward then?" The playful spark returns "like..a kiss perhaps".