LOTR || ⤜𝙨𝙝𝙤𝙤𝙩 → [Legolas x OC]

⤜ 32 → fools

\3rd person POV\

There was a beat. Legolas cleared his throat. Then... "You will have to remove your tunic."

She knew it was coming, so she resolutely nodded. For a second Rosa saw Legolas's cheeks turn a soft shade of pink before he glanced away, and she grabbed the ends of her tunic and tried to pull it over her head.

Face turned away in bashfulness, Legolas patiently waited for her to remove the top half of her clothing so that he could have easy access her wound. It was a horrible one, and Legolas did not know how she managed to make it this far without..... well— dying. He was truly impressed by how well she was holding up, and the strength she plastered onto her face despite the flood of emotions hiding behind them. Many times he thought she would start crying, but the tears never came — they just rimmed her eyes, glistening but never falling. Her determination and willpower almost reminded him of Aragorn. Both were resilient in their own ways.

A sudden cry caused to elf to jump slightly.

He immediately whipped his head towards the sound.

Rosa was crouched on the ground with her tunic halfway over her head, and Legolas could only guess that the arrow had snatched itself to the clothing. 

"Wait, wait!" His words were muffled by the fabric covering her head. She heard his footsteps rush closer before his hand grasped the tunic and carefully lowered it back down. When the daylight hit Rosa's eyes again, she was face to face with a red elf. And she was absolutely certain her own face looked just as flustered. She was correct.

Scrunching her face in embarrassment, she looked down at the arrow and mumbled, "Guess I forgot it was still there."

The elf's lips quirked up in amusement. Deciding to keep quiet in order not to embarrass her further, Legolas directed his concentration towards cutting out a small circle of fabric around the arrow with his dagger so that it detached itself from the rest of her tunic. His movements were swift and light. Practiced.

When his fingers brushed the hem of her clothes, his eyes gazing into hers for permission, she nodded and helped him take off the tunic again. It slipped off — along with some of her dignity, she felt — relatively painlessly this time, the only thing getting caught being her wings, which didn't cause much trouble as Legolas had moved behind her to gently pushed them through.

Rosa shivered as soon as she felt the cool breeze brush the bare skin of her shoulders and arms. Then she shivered again when warm fingers lightly touched the top of her uninjured shoulder, guiding her to lie down on the grass.

She slowly leaned back until she was resting on the ground, her head cushioned by the tunic which Legolas had bunched up and placed underneath her neck. She instinctively covered her chest with an arm, despite the fact it was already covered by a thin cotton corset undershirt. Legolas stood, turning his face away as he removed his cloak and gingerly draped it over her chest. Only then did he look at her.

But neither of them could hold eye contact for long.

Legolas immediately bounded in the direction of his horse, fishing for something inside the small pouch hanging from Arod's saddle. He pulled out a vial and a tiny tub of salve. "This is Athae oil," he explained. "I will have to put some on this before using it." He gestured to the blade in his hands.

Rosa exhaled shakily. "Just be quick with it," she requested. "Please."

He gave a curt nod. "I will be quick," Legolas held the knife over the fire which crackled appreciatively. "You've already lost blood. I do not want you losing more." The blade started glowing orange with heat. Legolas removed it from the flames and carefully poured some of the oil onto the blade, watching it sizzle and absorb the dark brown liquid. Then he came to kneel beside her.