𝓵𝓮𝓰𝓸𝓵𝓪𝓼

You had always taken pride in serving the King of the Woodland Realm.
From the first day you held a blade, your goal was simple:
to become a warrior worthy of the crown.

But no one knew the real reason for your strength.

No one knew that the person who shaped you…
the one who taught you to fight, to listen to the forest, to move like wind—

was Legolas.

The prince of the realm.
The Elf whose arrows struck like lightning and whose silence spoke louder than words.
He had been your mentor, your guide—
and without your knowledge, something far more than that.

Because Legolas carried a secret.
One he never allowed himself to speak.
One that controlled every step he took near you.

He was in love with you.
And for years, he had protected you from the shadows.

---

The training grounds were quiet that afternoon.
Sunlight filtered between the trees as you practiced, your sword cutting precise arcs in the air.
Your breath steady, your stance flawless.

Until a familiar voice broke the silence.

“You’re still lifting your hand too early.”

You turned.
Legolas walked toward you—calm, elegant, perfect as always.
Golden hair glowing in the light, eyes sharp and impossibly focused on you.

You smiled.
“I didn’t think you’d have time to come today.”

He stepped closer.
“When you’re training, I always have time.”

But before you could speak, he reached for your sword.

For a brief second, his fingers brushed yours.
A spark travelled up your arm.
He pulled his hand back quickly, but the moment had already said everything.

“You’re progressing faster than any soldier I’ve ever trained,” he said quietly.
Then, even softer:
“And I’ve made sure that progress came without danger.”

You frowned.
“Made sure? What does that mean?”

Legolas exhaled slowly, as if he had stepped into a truth he could not escape.

“I have trained many warriors,” he said.
“But only one whom I watched over… beyond the training grounds."