Content Warnings:

Spice scale: it’s spicy…but like it could also be spicier

Intimate physical touch + allusions to more

Word Count:

1.5k words

Translation Dictionary:

Meleth Nín = My Love

Mellon Nín = My friend

Aman = Blessed Land

⋆.˚ ☾ .⭒˚⋆.˚ ☾ .⭒˚⋆.˚ ☾ .⭒˚⋆.˚ ☾ .⭒˚

On tumultuous nights in which Legolas would undertake watch, the Fellowship and seemingly the entire forest would fall into a deep, weary slumber. Despite dozing constantly during your trek across the foothills, much to Gimli's envy, when day finally welcomed the night your worries continued plaguing your mind. You had laid staring up at the stars, knowing exactly which ones would lead you home to Rivendell. Despite the stick digging into your shoulders, it wasn't the thought of a snug bed and safe fire that tempted you, but rather those that you'd left behind. Before you joined the fellowship, there had been whispers of exodus. In the moment you had been hungry for adventure, ignoring the signs, but what if you'd made a mistake? You couldn't help but picture your kin sailing to the Grey Havens, escaping the torment that kept you from a good night's rest.

"Having trouble?" a kindly voice whispered. You briskly shot up, turning towards the source.

He sat back to a tree, vigilantly carving away at a piece of wood with his dagger. Despite your weapons lying comfortably around you; daggers by your ankle and spear by your side, Legolas's bow and quiver remained strapped to his back.

"Well that can't be comfortable," you teased, imagining the feel of a bow poking into your back. Suddenly you felt better about the stick.

"I could say the same thing about your arrangement," his head pointed towards your spot on the floor, eyes transfixed on his work.

"Hm, touché," you smirked, a pleasant silence falling between you.

The woods were immensely calm; the stridulation of insects a harmonious melody drowned out by a singular frog and its stark croak. The tranquility reflected in your companions, whose soft huffs of air you could hear below the crackling of the firewood. Maybe it was your expansive hearing that kept you from a restful sleep. You suddenly couldn't help but envy your newfound friends. Your thoughts were interrupted by the carving of wood as Legolas began to struggle with a corner, sawing forcefully at the bark.

"And what, exactly, are you making at this ungodly hour?" You stared at him with the corner of your eye, feigning annoyance.

"Wouldn't you like to know," the sawing continued.

"Mhm, what an astute observation" you mocked, standing and taking your place next to him, letting your head rest against the tree's homely bark.

After only a few weeks spent together you and Legolas had become settled in each other's presence. Through all of your teasing, you found it incredibly difficult to find anything about him to dislike. This unnerved you in a way, that is, how effortlessly you felt yourself falling for the princeling.

The silence returned once more, but the sawing had halted. You turned your head, finding Legolas already staring at you. His eyes were fawn-like and the tips of his ears began turning pink. Despite his curious embarrassment at being caught, he didn't shy away.

"What's on your mind?" you can feel your cheeks blossoming as the question leaves your mouth, your effort to prevent the blush only making it worse.

"How about you tell me what's keeping you from a good-night's rest," his eyes shone with genuine concern as he returned to his work. You felt the tension loosening, your playful demeanor returning once more.

"And what do I get for revealing such a thing, Prince?" You crossed your arms as if it could shield your fluttering heart.

"Whatever you want," the string was being pulled tighter once more.

You tried to keep your composure, confused as to how he was flustering you so.

"How about...you tell me what you're carving and why?" His eyes seemed to widen nervously at your proposal, only adding to your curiosity.

"Hmph, deal," he reached out his hand, and you leisurely reached your hand out. His handshake was gentle and his palms sweaty.

"But earnestly, mellon nín, what is plaguing you?" he said softer than before, suddenly aware of the others sleeping around the fire.

A sigh escaped your chest before you even registered it. You never told anyone about your troubles, and yet somehow it felt natural with Legolas. You weren't sure how much to say.

"I just...haven't found my sleep to be restful. Not since we left-," you swallowed hard.

You glanced at him as you attempted to compose yourself, expecting him to encourage you with his words. But he sat silently, knowing present in the depth of his stare.

He silently nodded, urging you to continue speaking.

You continued.

"When we first left, I had no hesitancy. And yet, as we continue, both our struggles here and those at home...trouble me," a breath enters your lungs. "I anticipated that this journey would be difficult, yes, but not impossible. The latter grows more apparent every day," you worried as to his response, and suddenly you found the ground to be rather intriguing. You began sifting the dirt through your fingers, soothing yourself as your cheeks turned red in shame. It was unlike you, let alone any elf, to be so vulnerable with another.

Suddenly, you felt a hand on your shoulder; urging you to look up. Legolas's face came into view, eyes soft and glowing with firelight.

"I'm glad I am not the only one who feels this uncertainty," he smirked, though his eyes appeared more sorrowful than anything. You breathed a sigh of relief, shoulders relaxing all at once.

"We're not meant to lose hope at the prospect of another day not appearing before us-" He halted himself.

"-But, if it's any consolation, I'm glad my last day would be spent amongst all of these wonderful individuals," you chuckled at his words, fighting back a tear. "And if I could visit Aman with anyone...," he paused, seeming to collect his thoughts.

"...I would want it to be with you," his eyes lingered on your face, his demeanor more nervous than you had ever witnessed.

He searched your face for any sign. Disdain, perhaps? Or maybe acceptance.

Your breathing hitched as his eyes dipped down to your lips. Your arms could no longer muffle the sound of your hammering heart.

You were suddenly made aware of the hand on your shoulder, the way Legolas's hair seemed to burn more so than glow, the way his eyes sparkled with moonlight as they looked at you with the reverence of a thousand worshippers.

"Seems we have the same wish," you said quietly. Your words lingered as neither of you moved. Legolas sat motionless, not wanting to back away...or overstep.

You noticed.

Raising your hand to his cheek, you steadily moved your face closer to his. Your lips lingered over his for a second, before you moved back slightly; glimpsing into his eyes, searching for permission, before returning fluidly to his lips.

His lips encompassed your bottom lip gently, before pulling back to look at you. Your heart fluttered as he peered at you with an indescribable sense of wonder; impressing a sense of fey upon him. A smirk appeared on his face as he leaned back into your chest, his lips smashing against yours.

You could feel the string in your heart snap, all semblance of control leaving your body.

His arms wound around the back of your neck, and without a thought you moved your legs around his waist; straddling him as his back was pressed against the tree.

A small grunt escaped his lips as your hips gently made contact with his, the angles of his face sharp beneath your calloused fingertips. He gently pried your hands from his face as his lips trailed down your cheek,

then your jawline-

and then to your barely exposed neck.

You let out an audible gasp as his teeth gently bit into your skin, your hands finding their place in his hair. Legolas began shifting his hips, a pleasurable moan escaping your lips.

"SHHH," the sound emanated from the campfire.

His face leapt away from your neck, searching for the source.

Your hand covered your mouth as you fought back a roaring bout of laughter. Legolas's face was blooming as he held his breath.

Had they heard you? If Gimli had spotted the two of you neither of you would hear the end of it.

You both waited for a moment, searching for any sign of movement amongst your supposedly slumbering friends.

You couldn't believe what just happened. Next time, you resolved to find a more private location.

You let out a sigh, slumping into his chest; arms wounding around his neck as his arms found their way around your waist.

"So...who taught you that," you whispered, giggling to yourself at the thought of his lips on your neck...the claim his teeth had made on your skin.

"A certain, close source, that I shall not divulge," his hot breath lingered on your ear, his voice coarse.

"Hm, Aragorn is some mentor”

"I hope you don't mind, meleth nín,"

"Not in the slightest-" you pulled back slightly, forehead resting against his.

"-I shall wear it like a badge of honor," you kissed him on the forehead.

A certain twinkle shone in Legolas's eyes as he leaned in to kiss the bite mark with enough gentleness to make you cry yet again.

"I think we may awaken the entire forest if we continue," a blush formed on your cheeks.

"Let's get some rest then," he smiled, his cheeks painted crimson at the thought.

You stood slightly, unwinding your legs from his hips. You slid to the floor, resting your head on his now outstretched legs. Without a word, he grabbed the blanket from his side, placing it around your drowsy form.

Legolas began to hum an unfamiliar tune, fingers making lazy strokes across your face. All you could hear was his steady heartbeat and voice, drowning out all else.

Your heart swelled with warmth as you fell asleep in Legolas's arms for the first time.

✩✩✩✩

- from what I can gleam in my own interpretation, Aoba is a heavy sleeper to me. Once he’s out, he is out. There has to be drastic measures to get him up. Like Koujaku lifting the bed to get him out or Beni poking him with his beak.

- that said, he’s also an attentive cuddler as well.

- if you plan to sleep over with him, he’ll put an effort to make you as comfortable as possible.

- of course, he’ll give the option if you want to cuddle or sleep next to him. Comfort is his top priority when it comes to you or anyone else he cares about.

- if you’re down for it, this means cuddles! As you’re alright with that, he’ll cuddles you as close he can to keep you safe & warm.

- through the cuddling, he’ll try to soothe you through gentle touches that hopefully ease you into sleep.

- circle like motions of his thumb on your arm, or simply rubbing your back with his hand. Always remaining to be gentle.

- once you have fallen asleep, he follows suit. Wrapping his arms around you while still wanting to remain contact with your skin.

- sometimes will give small pecks to your forehead or cheeks. Throwing in ‘I love yous’ along with ‘Goodnights’

    “Why are you down here?” Jaskier asked after a moment. Geralt didn’t answer right away, he was too busy watching the shadows of the fire dance across Jaskier’s face. Every now and then a shadow would flick over his eye and the blue would shine like a spark. 

    “Geralt.” Jaskier said again, knocking him out of his trance. 

    “I-just sitting-meditating. Just meditating.” Geralt said, returning his attention back to the fire. Jaskier huffed and wrapped himself back in the blanket, attempting to trap some of the heat from the fire. 

    “Come to bed, I’m cold.” Jaskier turned around and waited for Geralt to get up. But Geralt stayed where he was on the floor. 

    “I’m not tired.” He said.

    “I didn’t ask if you were tired, I said I was cold and currently my feet are freezing to this damned floor.”

    “Then I suggest you start a fire. There’s a fireplace in the room.” Geralt closed his eyes and tried to go back to his meditating. Jaskier knelt down next to him and grabbed his arm with blanket-clad hands. 

    “I have Geralt, and I’m still cold. Come ooon, just… please?” Jaskier looked up at Geralt like a beaten puppy, Geralt looked back at him like a tired parent. However, Jaskier started shivering, his shoulders and knees shook and Geralt could see his jaw barely move as Jaskier bit his cheek to stop his teeth chattering. Geralt sighed in defeat and looked at the ceiling. Jaskier smiled and shot to his feet, Geralt was slower to his feet. When he was up Jaskier wrapped the blanket he was wearing around both of them and attached himself to Geralt’s arm. 

    Jaskier was ice cold, it surprised Geralt, and he took the arm Jaskier was clung to and wrapped it around him instead. 

    “Lord you’re radiating heat.” Jaskier said getting closer and wrapping an arm around Geralt’s waist. 

    “You’re freezing.” Geralt said as they walked together to his room. 

-------

    Geralt’s room was as cold as the rest of the fortress, even with a fire burning in the fireplace it was still incredibly cold. Jaskier untied himself from Geralt and waited on the bed as he went through his nighttime routine. 

    “Slower.” Jaskier teased as Geralt changed out of his shirt. Geralt froze and shot a look at him. “What?” Jaskier said with a shrug and a smile. 

When Geralt sat on the bed to take off his shoes Jaskier moved up behind him and pressed himself into his back. He was still freezing, his skin was as cold as the stone floor and the breath Geralt felt on the back of his neck was like ice. 

    “Get in bed.” Geralt told Jaskier, who only hummed in response, he was starting to fall asleep already. “Jaskier.” He insisted. 

    “Hurry.” Jaskier said as he pulled himself off of Geralt and snuck under the covers and many extra blankets and furs he had piled onto the bed and Geralt was soon to follow. 

    There was a terrible draft circulating in the room keeping the temperature down. But the bed was warm and the sheets were heavy, weighed down by the extra blankets, and they seemed to tuck themselves around the two of them. 

    Jaskier curled himself up against Geralt’s chest as soon as he got into bed. He was shivering and tightly clung to Geralt, positioning his head in the crook of his neck and wrapping a leg over his hip. He pulled the covers up and around Geralt’s back, making sure he was fully covered. 

Geralt cupped Jaskier’s head in one hand and held his back with the other. They were pressed against each other in a way that Geralt wasn’t used to. They had shared beds and slept together before but the cuddling was minor, mostly tangled legs and arms or the standard spoon. There was always enough space for Geralt to wake up and do some brooding should he find himself caught in a nightmare. But now, now he was completely encompassed by Jaskier, unable to break away from his embrace and not wanting to. 

Jaskier had an arm wrapped around Geralt’s side and held onto his back. He was no longer freezing but was still cold. Geralt pulled up the back of Jaskier’s shirt and gently rubbed his hand up and down his spine. Jaskier took a deep breath and let out a small, pleased moan before settling further into Geralt’s embrace. Geralt rubbed his cheek against Jaskier’s head and pressed a kiss into his hair. He smelled like a forest after rain and wildflowers, it was odd, the sent was somehow comforting to Geralt. It wasn’t all the time he spent traveling or the memory of any particular time or space that brought on this comfort, but Jaskier himself. He was comforted by how close they were, close enough to smell, to touch, to hold, to have. He had Jaskier, in his bed, in his arms, but also he had Jaskier back. 

He closed his eyes and focused on feeling. Jaskier’s back was soft, no longer cold, and his spine was appropriately bumpy. His leg hung over his hip, allowing his full weight to be pressed into Geralt. He was dead asleep and Geralt felt him breathing, slow and warm, into his neck. There was still a fire burning in the fireplace, Geralt could feel the soft heat crawl its way up the bed and over the two of them. He felt like he could even feel the moonlight that streamed in from the drafty windows, like white shimmers gently landing on his head, barely touching his skin. There wasn’t a sound in the fortress, not even from the fire. The world was still, as if stuck in this moment of peace, waiting. Geralt searched his senses for something to happen, something to be approaching them, to unstick time and allow the night to continue. But nothing did. 

 “I mean, I think it went well. I still need to wait for another call back, considering the role is a main role for a major movie. I don’t know how many auditions I’ll need to go through before I know I’ve got the part.” Virgil grabbed Roman’s suitcase from the trunk, placing it on the ground before starting to lock up the car.

 “Did they say anything?”

 “Hollywood auditions are different than what I expected, but that’s normal. I mean, La La Land was pretty spot on about the audition process. But they were smiling when I finished, so I’m hoping for the best.”

 Roman unlocked his door swiftly and pulled Virgil inside, tugging him closer until they landed, sprawled out on the couch, their legs tangled together.

 “Three days wasn’t short enough.” Roman breathed out, trying to be closer, closer. He pulled Virgil in for a long, needy kiss, gently locking his arms around the other man’s neck.

 “We can’t even spend three days without each other.” Virgil laughed as Roman started to plant kisses all over his face. Finally, Virgil pushed himself off of Roman with another laugh.

 “Go take a shower, I’ll be here when you get back. Takeout?”

 “Pizza!” Roman called out as he disappeared into his room.

 ~~~

 It was only when the night was over and Virgil returned home that reality slapped him in the face.

 What if Roman got this job? Would he move away? For how long? Permanently? Would the movie do well? And if it did, would he never come back?

 And what if Roman asked Virgil to come with him? To drop everything, learn about a new industry? One that was shady and full of rumors and high stakes? Would he say yes? Would he leave the arcade?            Was he ready to leave his home?  

 The rational part of his brain took over, washing away the damage of the beer that had slowly made its way down to his stomach during dinner.

     That’s a lot of what if’s, V. You’re getting ahead of yourself. Nothing’s set in stone yet.  

 So he tucked his thoughts away and fell into a dreamless sleep.

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