The Relationship Table Meme!

[fairbrook]

the *:･ﾟRELATIONSHIP TABLE･ﾟ:* meme

♡ Get together all the characters your character may consider dating. (Or possibly befriending, allying with, etc.)
♡ Put their names together for organizational purposes.
♡ List all the PROS and CONS of dating/allying/befriending.
♡ Post them here and watch the travesty unfold.
♡ Check back later to see if you're datable. No one is late. (✿ﾉ◡‿◡)ﾉ *:･ﾟ

<table width="100%" cellspacing="5" cellpadding="1" border="0"><tbody><tr bgcolor="#bbbbff"><td width="20%">NAME</td><td width="40%">PROS</td><td width="40%">CONS</td></tr> <tr bgcolor="#ffffff"><td>Character one!</td><td>Pros</td><td>Cons</td></tr> <tr bgcolor="#cccccc"><td>Character two!</td><td>Pros</td><td>Cons</td></tr></tbody></table>

*meme credit

Comments

[orcsurfing]

[ Celegorm puts before him a great temptation; puts it right within his reach, so close as to make him taste it on his lips, smell it in his nostrils and feel its warmth on his skin. Enchanted, he steps closer until there's but a hair's breadth between them and yet there is still not a single point in which their bodies make contact.

Not until Celegorm rests his their foreheads together. The golden hair spills forward and tempts him further, to raise a hand and touch it, run fingers through it from roots to the very tips, feel the silk part between the slender digits, feel it pliant when twirled. Legolas wants to fold beneath this earnestness, this sheet emotion, he wants to allow himself to crumble and fall against the tall elf before him. ]

Passion... [ He shivers, there is a reason, after all, for why the woodelves have a reputation different than all other elves remaining on Middle Earth. Less wise, more dangerous. Legolas cleaves to the wisdom, to his father's teachings, yet the nature of the woodelves burns strongly within his veins. ] I know passion, I know the way it sweeps you away. Like a fire, like a great hurricane, like a swell of a tide on a stormy sea.

[ He has felt it all before, love for every little thing in life. For his bow, for his trees and the sea, for the stars, for the motion as he steps from a branch to a branch in a mad chase after a retreating threat or a prey, for bright green leaves in the summer or the snowed tops of trees and how easy it was to shake off a pile onto an unsuspecting victim. His laughter always rang clearly in the Woodland Realm, no matter the shadows that loomed above them.

And even now, it paints a smile on his lips. One brighter than all those that Celegorm might have witnessed on him, directed at him. Fond of memories, most dear, soothing his nerves. Eyelids heavy, Legolas breathes out, finally too he gives in and raises that one hand, silky threads of hair bunching up against his palm and knuckles. ]

I fear you... I fear what will come of it.

[ Once Celegorm's fire already scorched him, set off something which now burns within him, sparked into a flame greater each time they see each other, each time they speak. And Legolas fears that this fire will consume him whole. He's never felt this way. ]

Why me?

[avisionofwar]

[ Celegorm inhaled the scent of the other elf through barely-parted lips. All of his senses strained forward towards the shorter figure before him. Every move and gesture is slow, as if to let Legolas read and anticipate each in Celegorm's body language before it happens. ]

Sweeps me away, sometimes, like a paper boat set upon the crashing waves.

[ The sentiment rises in him that Legolas understands like a riptide, his skin prickling with a rush of giddy warmth. And he bends toward the lifting hand, his own eyes lowering at last, relieved, impossibly relieved. The fingertips which had been plucking at Legolas' tunic hook over the leather of his belt, tugging him the last small distance until they are pressed chest-to-chest, and he can nuzzle against the wrist of the hand stroking him as if he is a great cat. ]

You know why. You know why without thinking, without asking. You feel it in your bones; perhaps you've felt it all the while.

It's because you know me. Somewhere in that golden heart, you don't need to struggle to understand me.

[orcsurfing]

[ Each motion, there is plenty of time given for Legolas to pull away and flee if the direction it's all heading displeases him. Instead, he twitches when they press together, shudders at the contact with memory of another time and place, another circumstance so different from this now. Then it was wrath and hatred, flames of them bringing forth great agony and suffering. Now there's tenderness and great care, so great that Legolas feels almost a wounded, wild animal lured into the welcoming arms of its saviour.

And yet it's that saviour is who seeks salvation now. ]

I let it take me, at times, and I seek it at others.

[ He combs fingers through Celegorm's hair, both hands now wound into the long locks, fingers on one side nudging against the pointed tip of an ear. He inhales a trembling breath, neither denying nor confirming Celegorm's words out loud.

They both of them know them to be true. ]

No matter that I am without the light?

[avisionofwar]

[ The fingers in his hair, carding through it with such care, send chills up his spine, make his breath catch, and keen eyes would see him tremble while he leaned into each motion, his body, usually so elegantly fluid, going slowly slack into such intimacies. The shivers are more pronounced when warm skin brushes the points of his ears.

He feels barely able to pay attention to Legolas' pragmatic questions. His words are a soft rush, like a swift stream tumbling over smooth stones. ]

But your eyes are full of light, Legolas.

[orcsurfing]

[ Beyond hands on his belt, beyond the press of their chests, Celegorm doesn't touch him in turn and Legolas feels in control of the situation. He feels it to be on his terms and that's a comforting thought, that even allows him to stay rooted in place, rather than flying between the trees like a startled bird.

He moves his fingers down now, through the long strands that spill over Celegorm's chest, and they offer no resistance, not a single tangle mars the perfect smoothness of it. His gaze follows the motion too, until he's at the tips and raises a lock to his lips as if to kiss. His lips never make contact though, before he shies away and just twirls it around his index finger. ]

I have never felt it...

[ Any of it, more over so with such an underlying thread of terrible fear that comes with the want. ]

That you would want me, that I would want you.