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The Risk Is Worth The Embarrassment

Bonjour mes petits pétales!

I won’t lie, don’t really like this one! It feels kinda passive and boring and just meh. 

Please, someone tell me how to get better at writing! 😂 You would’ve thought my first year of English Lit A Level should have helped but I’ve lost my mind to the society of Gilead instead!   

Also very much need to improve my titling! 

Much love!

(ﾉﾟοﾟ)ﾉﾐ★゜・。。・゜゜・

“Please, correct me if I’m wrong but, uh, isn't that fountain sacred?”

A tight-lipped huff was the only response I obtained from my question, confirming my suspicions. The rigid form of the elf beside me made no move to go and drag the dwarves from bathing in said fountain, yet Lindir’s body trembled with irritation as a vibrant rouge quite swiftly advanced the span of his neck and cheeks. I scrambled to think of something to quell the anger of the brunette before he did anything that would put him out of Lord Elrond’s favour (although I still believe Elrond would have thought the sight of his right-hand elf ragefully dragging a few dwarves out of a blessed fountain by their nads to be quite funny… or that might’ve just be me).

“I mean at least we’ve got quite the view.”

Why I felt the need to put my hands on my hips and wink at the elf I’ll never know. Lindir spun around to face me with wide, unbelieving eyes until after a few moments they narrowed and, in quite the strop, Lindir stormed down the hallway. Admittedly, that might have not been the best thing to say… Having one last peep at the, rather impressive, bodies of the dwarves, I turned and scuttled in the footsteps of the uptight elf around the corner.

It was quite some time before I was once again reunited with Lindir. I drifted to settle against an ornately decorated column so as to not break Lindir from his revere.

Lindir wasn’t like other elves, or at least not the ones I’d seen. Having originally joined Gandalf in this realm at the same time he had met with Thranduil in Mirkwood, my first interactions with the race had been somewhat tarnished by a few stuck up, pompous, platinum-haired pricks. Rather happily, meeting the Rivendell elves on my journey with Thorin and the Company had been far more amiable.

We were first met by Elrond’s aid, Lindir. Watching the graceful elf drift down the stairs with an air of importance and respect metaphorically floored me. My mind soared with possibilities of conversations to be had, yet my mouth remained temporarily detached from any witty, or vaguely coherent, speech. Eventually, my silence ceased and I managed to partake in polite small talk with the brunette over dinner. Indeed, Lindir only seemed to be half-listening as he was also paying mind to the increasingly loud complaints of the Company. I mean I can’t blame the poor thing for ceasing to listen to my explanation of the dynamics of Love Island when shit hit the fan. Or more appropriately, the first roll hit the statue.

Sitting on the marble bench with his head in his hands, Lindir took deep breaths to calm and settle his mind. I had never been to this wing of the city, where a small lowered garden sat in the centre of what I realised must have been a sort of villa.

“Is this where you live?” I queried. The elf started in his seat.

“Apologies,” Lindir hesitated, “I was not aware you had followed me.”

I hummed in acceptance as he nodded his responce to my previous question. Sighing, I sat down next to him, wistfully staring at the peaceful garden in front of us. Without taking my eyes off the scene in front of me, I slowly inched my hand closer to Lindir’s thigh.

Once close enough, I quickly poked the fleshy skin through his tunic and recoiled as though nothing had happened.

“Boop.”

I could see Lindir turning to me with a confused look on his pointed features, glancing between my face and his thigh. I waited for him to turn back to the garden. Once again, I poked his body, slightly higher this time at his hip.

“Boop.”

Eyebrows furrowed, he tried to catch my hand before it took its place back on my leg. Turning to Lindir, I raised my left eyebrow in faux-innocence. The elf opened his mouth in preparation to speak, but before I had to cease my fun I attacked his side in the same manner.

This time the reaction was slightly different.

Now, Lindir was a very handsome elf, or at least that’s what I thought. The thing is, having that handsome elf let out a squeak of a giggle, which causes him to mirror the shade of a strawberry somewhat morphs that handsomeness into pure, unadulterated preciousness. Like ‘I’d take a bullet for you’ precious!  

I allowed a smile to stretch across my face, possibly coming across as vaguely Joker-ish but Lindir was simply too embarrassed to notice. The elf’s eyes now echoed that of a deer caught in the headlights, a definite air of Bambi to him and I never thought something so sweet could make someone so attractive!

I bit my lip to halt my giggles at Lindir’s stuttered sputtering as he tried to find an excuse for his adorable reaction. Lindir was progressively becoming more scarlet so, to save him having an aneurysm, I stood and turned from the bench.

“Wait!” Lindir snatched my wrist to stop me leaving but seemed to remember himself and let go with an sheepish huff. If one were to describe the living embodiment of embarrassment, Lindir might have just been it. His ears and neck were bright crimson, he was stuttering through his words and in all honesty seemed like he was going to have a full-on breakdown.

I smiled. Moving my hand to interlock our fingers I stared down at the red elf and tilted my head. His reaction gave me confidence, if this went badly then I suppose we’d be even.

“I didn’t know you were ticklish, Bambi?” I joked, with a well-placed eyelash flutter and pout. Gazing down at him I decided that maybe the embarrassment of what I wanted to do was worth it. I morphed my smile into more of a smug grin, leaned down and kissed Lindir’s cheek.

The only reaction I saw before running off around the corner was the poor thing touching his cheek in shock. Even though my heart was threatening to pound out of my chest, I’d be lying if I said the small smile that lifted at the corners of Lindir’s lips didn’t make the anxiety worth it.