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one
“Legolas, I do not think this is wise,” Aragorn protests, even as Legolas guides him easily, even as he allows himself to be braced against the trees they have been using for archery practice.
Legolas holds him there, kissing him roughly, his hands in Aragorn’s hair, and it would be untruthful to claim that he is not enjoying this. It would be entirely too easy for Aragorn to allow himself to sink into the kiss, but for the nagging thought in his mind that he is allowing something to continue that they will both come to regret.
“Legolas,” he protests again, though the protest sounds forced even to his own ears, and Legolas breaks the kiss only to move his mouth to Aragorn’s neck.
“I disagree,” Legolas whispers into his ear, “and you have yet to provide a convincing argument.”
Aragorn opens his mouth, but Legolas speaks into his ear again before he has the chance to do so himself.
“I have made my desires clear, as have you. Why protest now?”
“You’re – “ Aragorn starts, distracted by Legolas’ hands, “You are – And I’m – I’m mortal.”
“I will not have this argument again,” Legolas scowls as he pushes away from Aragorn, and Aragorn immediately misses the feeling of Legolas against him.
“Legolas,” Aragorn pleads, “I want to. You have no idea – “ he pauses. “You have no idea how much.”
Legolas’ eyes flash, daring. “So why not?”
Aragorn opens his mouth to reply, but the words will not come.
“Are you telling me you wish you discuss your heritage now, Aragorn son of Arathorn? You cannot pick and choose when you decide to use who you are.”
“Yet it is who I am, and you – “
“Don’t,” Legolas warns, reaching for his quiver as if to leave, although he does not. They remain silent, refusing to meet each other’s gaze, for a long while, and Aragorn is not sure when he lost his handle on the situation, although he never had as much control as he would like, he supposes. Aragorn is well accustomed to the infuriating nature of Elves, but Legolas is another thing entirely.
He wants to protest that Legolas is a Prince, that he is heir to a throne, and although neither of them are entirely enthused about their duties, they will still be there, lingering over their relationship, and Aragorn is unsure of how to deal with it.
Yet, perhaps he is getting ahead of himself. Legolas has berated him more than once for doing so, though Aragorn insists an immortal would not understand. Bringing that subject up, however, will ensure Legolas refusing to speak to him, so he does not.
In the end, the desire to smooth over the argument wins, and Aragorn says, “Your father will drug my wine, ensure I am drunk, and then murder me as I sleep.”
Despite the obvious avoidance of his concerns, Aragorn is completely serious. Thranduil intimidates him and he is not ashamed to admit it. Still, Legolas laughs, his quiver dropping back to the ground. His hair shines in the sun as his head tips, and Aragorn cannot help but pull him in for another kiss.
Aragorn, of course, knows he is making his desires clear by doing so, but Legolas only says, “I would not concern yourself with my father. Our meeting was his idea, after all.”
Aragorn raises an eyebrow. “I doubt this is what he had in mind.”
“Far from it,” Legolas agrees, “but rest assured he will not hear the end of that conversation if he attempts to lecture me on the subject. Besides, this is not his decision.” Legolas’ tone is heavy again as he puts distance between them, but he does not pull away entirely.
“If you would prefer I walk away, Aragorn, you should speak your mind now. I will, if it is what you wish.”
Aragorn deflates. “No,” he admits, “I don’t. I want this. I want you.”
“So stop worrying,” Legolas admonishes him softly, “there will be plenty of time for that. Now,” Legolas smiles, kissing him again before shouldering his quiver, “I believe you owe me a rematch.”
“You can’t demand the rematch when you won,” Aragorn sulks, but readies himself anyway.
two
Aragorn brings Gollum to Mirkwood at Gandalf’s request, and though he finds himself frustrated at the Wizard’s cryptic explanations on the situation at hand, he has known Gandalf long enough to be certain the best approach to receiving answers is to do as he says and wait the rest out. Gandalf has the tendency to let others in on information he deems necessary when he damn well pleases, whether or not said information would be of better use if given in a more timely manner. Wizards.
Of course, Gandalf is not even present when Aragorn arrives in Mirkwood, which does not help his frustration, but his previous thoughts still stand. There is always the chance that King Thranduil is more informed, and he has, in Aragorn's experience, always given information freely enough. He is blunt, particularly when annoyed, which seems to be his usual state of mind. Aragorn finds it a refreshing change from the riddles and cryptic talk he is accustomed too. Besides, it has been far too long since Aragorn has seen Legolas, and he is not above using this to his advantage.
However, Aragorn finds their reunion more frustrating than anticipated, at least at first. Lately, Aragorn has been feeling the passing of the months between their meetings with a keen sense of loss; he thinks frequently on the time they are unable to spend together, and worries. He wants nothing more than to speak to Legolas about his worries, and also to be absolutely certain that there is no bad blood between them, but he spends the majority of his time in Mirkwood in council with Thranduil, Legolas, and the other members of Thranduil’s court. By the time Gollum has been locked away and messengers have been sent to Gandalf, Aragorn has little time remaining before he is meant to return to the Dunedain.
Between the final portion and the serving of drinks of a rather extravagant dinner, Legolas pulls him into an empty hall earlier than strictly appropriate and pushes him against the wall, kissing him almost frantically.
“Hi,” Aragorn laughs when they break for air.
“Hello,” Legolas responds with a devious smile, putting space between them but not removing his hands from Aragorn’s shoulders.
Allowing himself to run a hand through Legolas’ hair, Aragorn asks with a grin, “Is that the greeting I can expect after every time we have been apart?”
In response, Legolas huffs. “Don’t push your luck. I’m only relieved to have a reprieve from the conversation.”
“Ah, is that all,” Aragorn drawls, “perhaps I shall inform the King you are neglecting your duties and are a poor host.”
“You would not dare.”
“I’ll bet you can persuade me not to.”
“I’m sure you would enjoy that,” Legolas laughs, his gaze mischievous even as he removes his hands from Aragorn, “Yet I believe I have the upper hand – you’re afraid of my father."
Aragorn’s eye twitches.
“He is not so bad.”
“Oh?” Legolas grabs his hand. “Come, perhaps I shall kiss you right in front of him – “
“Legolas!” Aragorn yelps, pulling Legolas back into him to kiss him until he stills. “You are in quite the mood.”
“It’s the wine,” Legolas says.
“Sure,” Aragorn indulges, not believing him in the slightest, but enjoying his mood all the same. “It is good to see you again.”
“You as well,” Legolas agrees, gently pulling Aragorn with him to sit against the wall. “Are you sure you must leave again so soon?”
“Gandalf seems to think it is essential to make haste,” Aragorn explains, “although I am beginning to question the wisdom of my willingness to follow his orders.”
“Yet you still brought Gollum here.”
“Yes. You think it was unwise?”
Legolas frowns. “I am reluctant to believe it is this simple, I suppose. Why here?”
Aragorn shrugs. “Your father’s halls are protected.”
“That is true,” Legolas concedes, “Though I doubt any Elven halls will be secure enough to hold Gollum should the enemy discover his presence here.” He tilts his head closer to Aragorn. “Where will you go now?"
“Back with the Dunedain. Perhaps it is time for us to resume our patrol of the Shire.”
Legolas hums his agreement. “Keeping close in case this blows up?”
“Yes, there is that.”
“Are you sure there is nothing else troubling you?”
“Why do you ask?”
“Because you seem troubled.”
“This arrangement is suspicious to me,” Aragorn answers, and it is the truth, yet the look Legolas gives him in response makes it clear he has spoken the obvious and the Elf is not fooled.
“Of course it is suspicious. A shadow has been growing across Middle Earth for a long while, and this, I believe, is only the eye of the storm.” Legolas looks at Aragorn again. “I know when you are hiding things from me, you know. This is not all that troubles you.”
The last time they had seen each other had been fraught with tension after their greeting had quickly become an argument. The tension had remained throughout the few days they had been together, and although they had both attempted to resolve their argument before parting, Aragorn had not left feeling particularly sure anything had been resolved. Enough time had passed that he was unsure it was wise to bring it up again, but leaving it be had not eased his worries, and Legolas deserved the truth of what troubled him. After all, untruths had been the reason for their argument in the first place.
“I still regret the circumstances under which we last parted,” Aragorn admits softly.
Legolas seems surprised. Aragorn isn’t sure what to make of that.
“That has long passed now, Aragorn.”
“Yes,” Aragorn admits, “and long since we have truly spoken. Are you sure you are not angry?”
Legolas flinches, and his response is cold. “I am the one who started that argument, remember."
That was true, but Aragorn finds himself reluctant to place all the blame on Legolas, even now.
"Perhaps, but still -"
“No, I am not.” Legolas says, cutting him off. Aragorn knows it is an effort to change the subject, and he lets him do it. It is not the best thing, he knows, but he does not want to anger Legolas further.
Instead, he says, “Okay,” acknowledging the response, before changing the subject. “I have missed you on my travels."
The smile Legolas gives him in response is small, but present, and that is enough for now. “I miss my target partner.”
Aragorn snorts. “You miss beating me.”
“Yes, that too.”
“I was going to request you accompany me, for a while. Under the circumstances, however…”
“I would have been happy to, if I were not leaving my father alone with Gollum.”
“Wise, I am sure.”
The smallest hints of unhappiness flicker across Legolas’ face. “It is selfish, I suppose, but I wish we had more time.”
"As do I," Aragorn says in response. There is a part of him that wishes his days with Legolas could go on for eternity, but he knows they cannot. He is aware that he uses Legolas to hide away from who he is, and that cannot go on forever, though he hopes he can still have him. "I will do my best to ensure our time apart isn't for so long, this time." It is not a promise, because it cannot be.
“I suppose,” Legolas says, "we should be careful to make such wish. Whatever is coming, it makes me uneasy.”
Aragorn agrees with that.
“This is a poor way to spend tonight,” Legolas says, placing a finger on Aragorn’s lips when it is clear he is about to speak again. “Come, let us make better use of our time.”
three
“Are you going to speak your mind,” Legolas asks, acknowledging his presence but not turning to face him, “or were you planning on staring at me until you are called away?”
“I assume this is not a question,” Aragorn remarks, “as I know how you feel about being stared at.”
“Yet here you are, staring.”
With a grin he cannot help, Aragorn walks towards the pile of boulders Legolas has perched himself upon, but does not approach closer than that.
“I would know what has been on your mind.”
“The same thoughts that have been on my mind since the Council, Aragorn. Why?”
Aragorn frowns. “You have been keeping to yourself.”
“You know better than to think that is strange.”
“I do, but you have not kept your distance from me in such a way before.”
Legolas gives him a look that would burn, were it possible. “I am on this quest for many reasons, Aragorn, but I am a supporting member. This quest is about getting the Ring to Mordor, is it not? Along with, perhaps, dealing with Sauron, but one must crawl first. The Hobbits are frightened, and Boromir and Gimli are dangers to themselves. You have your hands full, as does Gandalf, though Valar knows where his mind is at any given moment.”
“So what you’re saying,” Aragorn draws out, “Is that someone has to have the eyes?” Really now, there were far less words that would get the point across, and the next time Legolas gripes about Gandalf’s riddles, Aragorn is going to point out the hypocrisy.
“Well, yours are on the Hobbits, and Gandalf’s as well,” Legolas replies, “It is only natural.”
"You are not the only skilled warrior here."
Legolas huffs. "I never claimed to be, yet I am useful this way. I do not trust these mountains to not be hiding secrets. It is not personal."
“Still,” Aragorn begins, “every one of us needs rest, which you have not taken for many days. I will take the remainder of your watch.”
Legolas almost growls his response. “That is quite the statement, coming from you, and you will do no such thing. I am more than capable of judging my own limits.”
“Yes, but you are still stubborn. I will share your turn with you, then.”
“Aragorn,” he bites out, more harshly than he would have expected, and it sounds like a warning.
Aragorn sighs, and walks around the rocks so that Legolas must face him.
“Alright, so this is your watch, and I will wait for my own, but will you at least permit my company?”
“For what purpose?”
“For the pleasure of it, and nothing more. I swear. I have missed you.”
Legolas still looks vaguely annoyed, but he comes down from the top of the boulders then to stand next to Aragorn.
“If that was what you desired all along, you could have just said so,” he points out.
Aragorn feels as though he couldn’t have, though he is not entirely sure why. Legolas has almost never rejected his company before, and those times he had were in the midst of arguments. Still, Aragorn feels unsettled. He cannot explain why, however, so he shrugs it off and presses a tentative kiss to Legolas’ cheek.
“You really should have just said so,” Legolas teases him, turning his face towards Aragorn.
“I didn’t mean - “ he begins to protest, but Legolas kisses him, and Aragorn had missed this, too, so he does not push it.
“I apologize,” Legolas says eventually, turning his gaze towards the skies. “I suppose I am more tense than I am familiar with.”
“Considering the circumstances, I believe I can forgive you."
“I would relieve this tension through archery, if only my practice targets were near or my supply of arrows not so thin.”
Aragorn grins. “You are spoiled, Prince of Mirkwood. We have much at our disposal." He picks up a small stone from the ground. “I’ll aim for that large boulder,” he explains, tossing the rock into the air.
"Aragorn, this is ridiculous, you'll never hit it -" Legolas starts, but he is cut off by the stone hitting the boulder. Legolas gapes, and Aragorn freely laughs at him.
"This will draw unwanted attention," he warns.
"No more than the attention our camp will draw,” Aragorn points out, nodding towards where Merry and Pippin are entertaining Boromir with songs from the Shire. “So come on then,” he prods, reaching for another stone, “or are you afraid you’ll lose?”
“Of course not,” Legolas scoffs, reaching for a stone himself. "Your aim is still terrible."
The first stone he throws misses the boulder completely. Aragorn laughs at him the rest of the evening.
four
Legolas does not stray far from within Aragorn’s sight once they have reached Lothlorien. He occasionally remains hidden from the untrained eye, content to leave the Hobbits to grieve in peace, but he is always close enough that the Ranger can sense his presence if he cannot see him.
Aragorn is unsure whether it is for his benefit, or for them both. He knows he has seemed unsympathetic since Gandalf’s fall, though it was only done out of the desperate need to get the Hobbits to safety, which Legolas knows. It is not until Lothlorien, where they are temporarily safe, that Aragorn feels he can take the time to grieve himself. The quest, without Gandalf, feels heavier, more impossible, and he knows he must internalize his thoughts, before they must move on again.
For these reasons, Aragorn is inclined to believe it is for his benefit, though he also knows that Legolas is shaken, and perhaps is taking comfort in at least watching over Aragorn. Still, though he is unsure how much comfort he can provide, he wants to, and wishes to take advantage of the first real chance he has to seek Legolas out. As it happens, it is unnecessary. Once the Hobbits are as settled as is perhaps possible under the circumstances, and Boromir and Gimli are in turn taking the time to recuperate, Legolas finds Aragorn where he has settled himself within the trees.
Legolas does not speak to him for a long while. He sits down next to Aragorn, resting his head on his shoulder, which says enough, really. Aragorn is content to relish the feel of Legolas next to him and give him time.
“I should be able to find solace here,” Legolas begins eventually, “yet I find I cannot.”
“There has not been enough time,” Aragorn murmurs against his head, knowing that time is the only comfort they may find, yet they do not even have that luxury. Gandalf was the one no one suspected would fall, he knows, including himself. If he has fallen, they all could, and Aragorn wants to know what Legolas is thinking, but he is unwilling to broach the subject.
“Nor will there be for a long while. It was wise to retreat here. The Lady Galadriel keeps these woods safe. I do not suspect we will find that again.”
“No,” Aragorn agrees. “Likely not.”
“The Hobbits are quite brave,” Legolas starts, “but I know they had no idea what to expect out of this war. I worry for them.”
“They are brave,” Aragorn reassures, “and this has been trying on us all, but I believe they will be alright.”
“Do you think they are ready for what lies ahead?” Legolas asks him, though he likely does not need an answer.
“No,” Aragorn answers honestly anyway, “I am not sure I am, either. Yet there is no choice.”
“I am not sure we will ever be entirely prepared for this,” Legolas concedes, and then continues, “but you need not do this alone, Aragorn. Remember that. You need not hide yourself from me.”
“I know,” Aragorn says softly, “nor do you."
Aragon wants to be sure Legolas knows he can discuss his grief if he wishes. He is confident Legolas caught his meaning, but he does not reply. He tucks himself the slightest bit tighter into Aragorn’s side, and lets his eyes shut. Aragorn decides to leave it be, rests his cheek in long blonde hair and Legolas curls a hand on Aragorn’s knee.
They remain this way, silent, for long enough that Aragorn loses track of the time. He listens to the familiar breaths under his ears and the sounds of the forest and lets himself be at peace, for just a while.
five
The immediate aftermath of the battle at Helm’s Deep is fraught with just as much terror as before the battle had begun, if not more. The relief and adrenaline that had arrived with Eomer’s men had gone as suddenly as it had arrived.
For his part, Aragorn feels mostly exhaustion, knowing his tumble from the cliff is catching up with him, among everything else. There is much to do - helping the injured, gathering the dead, regrouping the living for the return to Edoras, perhaps suggesting to Theoden that a brief celebration is in order, if only for the morale of the men. For the moment, however, Aragorn’s only priority is finding Legolas, who has obviously been avoiding him.
There are times Aragorn finds himself forced to remember that although Legolas is old by a mortal’s standards, by an Elf’s, he is still quite young, and his impetuous nature gives that away.
If he truly did not wish to be found, he would not, but Aragorn eventually finds him in the fields with Gimli, salvaging what arrows he can while he debates the score of their competition with the Dwarf. Aragorn cannot help but grin when Legolas sees him and pointedly looks away. If Aragorn did not value his life, he would point out that pouting is quite unbecoming of an Elf, but Legolas has inherited some of his father’s temper, though he will deny it for the rest of eternity.
Legolas is cross with him for their brief reunion, he knows that much. Perhaps he has the right to be. Perhaps Aragorn has taken for granted that their relationship is solid. This quest has not left much time for the two of them, and yet Aragorn has never doubted the strength of their relationship when all there was time for was brief conversation over the fire at night, a touch on the arm before mounting their horses in the morning. The fact remains that Aragorn is not sure where he would be without Legolas, and perhaps he needs to remind them both of this.
“Legolas,” he calls out, knowing that Legolas cannot pretend to not hear him if Gimli can, “A moment.”
“Finally!” Gimli yells dramatically, “Something to distract him from insisting he won when he didn’t!”
“Learn to count, Gimli,” Legolas counters with a laugh, placing the arrows he had recovered into his quiver, his expression tightening when he met Aragorn’s eyes. Still, he follows Aragorn away from Gimli until they are alone.
“Legolas,” Aragorn begins immediately, hoping to ward off any anger on the Elf’s part, “I’m sorry.”
“For what?” Legolas asks him, no small amount of bitterness lacing his words. “For the warg taking you with it off the cliff?”
“Legolas,” Aragorn sighs, “believe me, my deepest desire was to return to you, and I am sorry about the briefness of our reunion. I wanted to give you more time, I really did.”
“Did you? You were quite eager to return to the brinks of death after barely surviving it.”
Aragorn sighs again, pinching the bridge of his nose. He is too exhausted to be in any mood to deal with Legolas’ anger. Perhaps Legolas has the right to be angry, but he cannot take his statement back, knows in his heart it will always be true, and he is in no mood to defend this further.
“I know how much you hate feeling like you are being left behind, Legolas, and it was not my intention to make you feel as though you were. We had so little time, even less after my arrival at Helm’s Deep was delayed. I am sorry, and I will do my best to be sure it will not happen again.”
“You know better than to make such promises to me,” Legolas bites out, still refusing to directly meet Aragorn’s gaze.
Aragorn does know better, but his words, at the moment, hardly seem to matter, so he points out, “I do, as you know better than to be cross with me for something beyond my control.”
“Promising yourself to these men until death takes you is not beyond your control,” Legolas counters, but he is tiring himself. It would be impossible for Aragorn to miss the signs. His voice is still tight with restrained anger and unhappiness, but his shoulders slump, just a little.
He approaches Legolas slowly, giving him the time to back away. He does not, and Aragorn takes one hand into his own. “The next time the enemy attempts to dismiss me,” he says, the smallest hint of teasing in his voice, “I will take care to bring you down with me.”
He can almost see the exact moment the fight leaves Legolas’ body. The Elf closes his eyes in response to Aragorn’s weak joke, and he presses close, his nose tucked into Aragorn’s collarbone. “You frightened me,” he admits softly.
“I know,” Aragorn responds, wrapping his arms around him. He would apologize, if he had not been doing so repeatedly for the past few minutes. He finds any other words inadequate, so he pulls Legolas in tighter to his body instead.
“I was just as angry as myself as I was with you,” Legolas continues, eventually, his voice just above a whisper, “I wanted to look for you.”
“You were right to continue on,” he tries to reassure, but Legolas frowns.
“I should not have left you behind.”
“You did the right thing, and it worked out in the end, did it not?”
“I suppose,” Legolas relents, and Aragorn knows he remains unsatisfied, but appears to be letting the subject drop, for now, and Aragorn lets him, too exhausted to care.
Legolas frowns at him again. “You are exhausted. You really must rest before we continue.”
“There will be time when we reach Edoras,” Aragorn dismisses, even as he becomes aware that Legolas is probably supporting more of his weight than his own legs. “There is much to do before then.”
“You will not make the trip if you do not sit down for a moment or two, and there is certainly time for that,” Legolas argues.
“Still - “
“No,” Legolas insists again, in a voice Aragorn knows will not be argued with. “You owe me. You will rest for a few minutes, at least.”
Legolas pulls him back through the fields, into the halls of Helm’s Deep that are still standing, and leads him to an empty spot on the floor, where he forces Aragorn to sit.
“I will assist with gathering the men,” Legolas tells him, “And I will fetch you when we are ready to depart, but you will sit until then.”
Aragorn wants to protest, but he finds it increasingly difficult to speak.
“Legolas, listen - “
Legolas kneels down next to him, and silences him with a brief kiss to his temple.
“It does not matter. You are still alive. We both are. I cannot ask for more than that.”
Legolas stands and moves to walk away, but Aragorn grabs his hand. “Stay with me,” he asks. “Just for a moment.”
“For a moment,” Legolas concedes, and kneels back down next to Aragorn, their hands remaining linked.
(+1)
Aragorn remains in the tent, his gaze fixed on Anduril, long after Elrond had excused himself and left Aragorn with his thoughts.
Aragorn is aware of all the implications of accepting Anduril – aware of the words Elrond did not speak; had not needed to. Though Aragorn has known, in his heart, that the moment he decided to join the Fellowship, there was no turning back, he has indulged himself with the possibility of other options, although he is too ashamed to admit it.
He also knows that allowing himself such indulgence was in no small part a result of the conflict that has lived within him for ages regarding his relationship with Legolas. He supposes he should have long made peace with his misplaced guilt over having Legolas follow him on this quest, though he has not. He keeps it to himself these days, as Legolas never was patient with it, but he feels it all the same.
He has not wanted to think too deeply on what may happen when this is all over. If they make it out alive, if the Ring is destroyed and he claims the throne, what will Legolas do? Legolas will always have a place with Aragorn and they both know it, yet he has little interest in claiming any rule of his own lands; why should he desire to stick around Gondor just because of Aragorn? There have carried on this relationship through many months of being apart in the past, and can do so again, but Aragorn does not want to have to. There is a small part of him that insists he cannot claim such responsibilities without Legolas there to ground him. He hates himself for thinking it, but the thought has been there for a long time.
It was simpler to ignore his status as heir to the throne of Gondor. It was simpler to ignore his mortality, and the truth that Legolas is not only immortal, but also royalty. It was simpler to allow himself to believe the days he had spent with Legolas hunting and practicing archery would never end.
It was simpler to believe all of those things, though they have never been true, and he knows now that this is it. This is the final turning point, at least for him. There will be no turning back from the Dimholt Road.
Aragorn sheathes the sword.
~
He is unsurprised when he finds Legolas on the edge of the encampment, his horse already saddled and eating from his palm.
“Lord Elrond found you before his departure?” Aragorn asks, although it’s less of a question than a statement.
Legolas turns his attention away from the horse to respond. “Yes.”
Aragorn leads Brego up to the two of them, and Legolas passes them an apple as well.
“What did he say to you?” Aragorn asks.
Legolas only smiles in response, though Aragorn suspects it is not due to any fond recollection of Elrond’s words. It is a smile of acceptance, not of happiness. He nods at the sword on Aragorn’s hip, and Aragorn does not need to know much more.
“You will take the Dimholt Road,” Legolas says, and it is not a question.
“Yes.”
“You plan to leave now?”
“Yes,” Aragorn confirms, not mentioning that as Legolas already has his horse saddled, he must know this.
Legolas gives him an unhappy look. “You do not seem rested enough.”
“I could remain here, and yet I would not be able to rest,” Aragorn admits. “I would rather leave and be of use.”
“These people make you uncomfortable.”
He turns away, unable to meet the Elf’s eyes under the weight of the truth. “I still feel as though I am leading them into a hopeless quest.”
Briefly, Legolas places his hand on Aragorn’s arm, a small gesture of comfort. “And yet here you are, prepared to reclaim your destiny.”
“There does not seem to be any other road,” Aragorn admits. “I will do what I can.”
“So you will,” Legolas says, “As will I. If you would give me a moment, I will be ready to depart.”
“Listen, Legolas – “ he starts, but pauses when the look he is given is enough to make him reconsider his words.
“No, that’s not – “Aragorn hastens to clarify, “I would not think of attempting to leave you behind. I have promised you this.”
Legolas softens. “Speak your mind.”
“I would ask what happens now,” Aragorn says, “though it hardly seems to matter much.”
“I do not understand,” Legolas says. “What happens now is that we take the Paths of the Dead, is it not?”
“That is not what I mean,” Aragorn says, brows furrowed. “Legolas, once I step foot on the Dimholt, I cannot turn back.”
“You are having doubts?”
“None regarding my claim to the throne that we have not previously discussed,” Aragorn clarifies, “more doubts regarding… what this will mean for us.”
The smile Legolas gives him is so gentle that it steals his breath away.
“You and I will continue as we always have.” Aragorn opens his mouth to protest, but Legolas speaks over him. “Aragorn, I made my decision when I joined this quest. Although I do wish to rid Middle Earth of this evil, I also saw the opportunity to be with you. I knew what this would mean. I have lived many years and some things will remain with me, but you will not. I would chose to spend the remainder of the time we do have close to you.”
“I – “ Aragorn begins, the words catching in his throat.
“That is,” Legolas continues softly, before he can gather himself, “unless you do not wish for me to remain with you.”
“Don’t be foolish,” he is quick to say. “It is all I have wanted.”
“You still have my bow, Ranger,” Legolas jokes, then continues more seriously, “and my heart, for as long as I can give it.”
It is the heaviest thing Legolas has ever spoken to him, and Aragorn knows it has taken much of him to say it.
“Good,” Aragorn says, his throat tight with emotion, releasing Brego’s reins to take Legolas into his arms, “Because I need you.”
“I need you as well,” Legolas assures him. “I know you have been reluctant to share some of your feelings with me, knowing that the possibility of me outliving you is more likely a reality. But that is true if I stay with you or not.”
“I – “ Aragorn breaks off, steadying a shaky breath, before saying, “I love you.”
“I love you,” Legolas responds into his ear, “And you once promised me that we were in this together. I would have that be true of everything, Aragorn. I want everything.”
“Whatever you wish,” Aragorn promises, and kisses him because he cannot say the words.
They are interrupted by Gimli.
“I was wondering where you two had gone off to – now I wish I had not,” he gripes. Aragorn grins, but Legolas laughs.
“Perhaps you should have controlled your curiosity, then,” he says simply.
Gimli rolls his eyes, and then gestures to the horses. “And just where do you two think you’re off to?”
“This time you must stay, my friend,” Aragorn tells him reluctantly.
“I will not,” Gimli practically roars, “It has been the three of us since the breaking of the Fellowship! I won’t let you change that. You might as well accept it – we’re going with you, laddie.”
Aragorn shakes his head, but smiles, and Legolas smiles too.
“Well, hurry up then, Gimli,” Legolas says, “We must make haste.”
“I am already prepared – you two are not nearly as subtle as you prefer to believe.”
Aragorn is ready to protest to that statement, but Legolas only laughs again, motioning to Gimli.
“Very well, up you go then,” Legolas says, helping Gimli onto the horse before mounting himself. Aragorn watches them for a moment, then does the same.
“Now, the Dimholt Road awaits,” Legolas says.
“Yes,” Aragorn agrees, unable to quell the hope rising in his chest. “So it does.”
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