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***
The fire was almost out, leaving only glowing embers behind. The night was bright and devoid of the constant danger they had become accustomed to in recent months. Almost all members of the fellowship slept soundly, knowing that Legolas was on watch as usual. The endurance of the elf surpassed that of men, allowing Legolas to spend more time on night watches than anyone else. His sharp hearing and sight had saved their lives more than once. Only Aragorn felt uneasy, knowing he wouldn't be able to sleep. A feeling of vague anxiety gnawed at his soul. So when the others scattered to their improvised sleeping places, he remained sitting by the fire. Legolas, sitting nearby, looked at him with curiosity.
"Aragorn, you need to rest," Legolas said slightly impatiently.
"I don't think I can sleep tonight, Legolas. Let me take over your watch, at least one of us could rest."
Legolas scoffed with a subtle air of arrogance. If not for the fact that Aragorn had grown up among elves, he might have strangled him already. Legolas was young by elven standards and somewhat arrogant due to his youth.
"Unlike you, humans, elves are less prone to fatigue, and our endurance surpasses yours many times over," he began in a lecturing tone.
"Here we go, ’tis the moment I want to slap him," thinks Aragorn. If he wants to suffer and refuse a break, so be it, Aragorn is not going to argue. He had seen their arguments with Gimli and was amazed at the elf's stubbornness. Saying nothing in response, he continued to watch the dying fire.
"The stars are visible tonight," Legolas said.
Aragorn looked up at the night sky, where bright stars shone like Silmarils against the dark blue velvet of the night canvas. This breathtaking sight made Aragorn feel lighter.
"So much beauty in this world", he said. "How can there be evil in a world where stars like these exist? So much beauty that we see and that which is beyond our view. When I see the stars, they give me confidence that everything will be alright."
Surprised Legolas raised an eyebrow. A deep appreciation for the beauty of nature was considered an elven trait. The man surprised him.
"I've always loved this constellation," Aragorn said, pointing to the sky. "We call it the Lovers. Two bright, almost symmetrical stars are opposite each other, and having a vivid imagination, which our scholars undoubtedly have, you can imagine two figures. These bright stars in the center are their hearts, reaching out to each other. There’s an old legend that in ancient times, the warrior Aíre fell in love with the beautiful Itulë, but in one of the battles, an enemy cast a spell of oblivion on him, and Aíre forgot about his beloved. But soon they began to appear in his dreams, calling him home. Their hearts reached out to each other and overcame the evil spell, allowing Aíre to remember his beloved and come back to them. After their deaths, they ascended to the heavens to help all lovers find their way home."
Unexpectedly, Legolas found himself captivated. They loved the stars In Mirkwood too but he had never heard this legend before.
"It's a beautiful legend," Aragorn continued. "If you study the early chronicles, you’ll notice that Itulë is a male name."
Aragorn then fell silent, and Legolas, enchanted by the legend, thought about what it would be like to love so deeply that the strength of that bond could overcome even powerful evil spells. He wished he knew, wished he could feel the power of such a feeling. But these were restless times that demanded his full attention, and everything else seemed insignificant. Soon his thoughts began to become blurry, and his heavy head fell on his friend's shoulder. Aragorn smirked. He could see that Legolas had been pushing himself hard for weeks, and despite him being absolutely right that human endurance couldn’t compare to elven, even elves had their limits. The uncompromising nature of youth had betrayed Legolas once again. Aragorn saw how exhausted he was, though he had been putting on a brave face. It took just one old legend to make him nod off and, falling into the embrace of sleep, comfortably nestle against Aragorn’s shoulder. Aragorn sat motionless, knowing this night would be calm, and Legolas needed this rest.
Legolas felt safe for the first time in years. Cozy warmth enveloped his entire being, and he felt serene. Someone's hand rested on his waist, holding him. Someone he trusted.
"Legolas," Aragorn called softly a few hours later.
The elf jumped up startled, mortified, realizing that not only had he fallen asleep but had also slept deeply for several hours. Right after lecturing Aragorn about unencessity of rest for him.
Blood rushed to his cheeks, he knew he was caught red-handed. There was no fooling Aragorn.
"Legolas, I’d like to nap a bit before the journey. Can you take the watch?"
"Of course."
"Everything was quiet. I think we’re safe for now," Aragorn said, heading to his sleeping bag.
***
This became their routine. Legolas stayed on watch with Aragorn, and when it was his turn to rest, his head found its place on his friend's shoulder. On these cold nights, Aragorn enjoyed the warmth emanating from another body. For the first time in his life, he was so intrigued by someone. Legolas fascinated him. They talked about everything, from trivialities to important plans. At first, Legolas was reserved, but then he gradually opened up, and it felt like pieces of a puzzle were coming together.
Aragorn’s gaze slid over the golden waterfall of hair cascading onto his shoulder, tickling his face. Legolas looked serene in his sleep, unbearably beautiful. In moments of battle, the prince of Mirkwood represented an untamed force of nature, deadly and ruthless to enemies. A proud heir of a warrior lineage, tireless in battle. No wonder they said the elves of Mirkwood were more dangerous than other elves; Aragorn had seen him in action many times and, seeing so many things in life, having all the experiences, he was still impressed.
But now he sees the soft expression on his friend’s face, and something unfamiliar stirs inside.
***
Legolas, as humans would say, woke up on the wrong side of the bed. Usually just stubborn, today he outdid himself, turning an argument with Gimli into a full-fledged quarrel, after which they didn’t speak to each other for the rest of the day.
Aragorn watched him with interest but maintained a distance. That night it was Aragorn’s turn for the first watch, but Legolas also didn’t sleep, pacing back and forth, peering into the distance.
"Do you think we’re in danger?"
"No. Yes. Yes, but not now. Not tonight."
"Then what darkens your heart with worry?"
Legolas pursed his lips, frowned, exhaled, sat down next to Aragorn, seeming to weigh something, and made a decision. He said quietly:
"Today is the anniversary of my mother's death."
Aragorn, not knowing what to say, hugged him and patted him on the shoulder, murmuring, "I’m sorry."
He knew that Legolas's mother, Astariel, had died fighting orcs, and King Thranduil had never recovered from her loss.
"What was she like?" he asked, surprising himself.
Legolas looked at him surprised, studying his friend intently, and realized that he could speak. Grief had once choked him at the mere thought of her, but with Aragorn, it felt safe and comfortable. He knew he could open up.
"Kind. She was kind. Her kindness and compassion for living things and plants set her apart from many. She loved to sing; his father said he fell in love with her voice. Sometimes I think if I close my eyes, I’ll hear her singing," Legolas said, feeling his eyes begin to sting but continued. "She loved all living things; for some unknown reason, her favourite plant was a huge rosebush that grew so close to the palace that father tore many of his outfits on its thorns, constantly scratching his hands, but he didn’t dare do anything to the bush. When she died, the bush also withered; we couldn’t do anything about it, as if her life force had sustained it."
Aragorn knew that this was likely true, as elves, especially forest elves, had a special connection with nature. Legolas continued:
"She was curious, but her curiosity differed from idle court gossip; she was interested in the world, other cultures, humans, dwarves, elves," Legolas said.
"She was... my friend," Legolas said hearing his voice breaking.
Aragorn couldn’t help himself; he got up, sat behind Legolas, and hugged him from behind. Legolas leaned back against his chest.
"Legolas, I didn’t know her, but I see her in you. She lives in you."
Legolas waited for the wave of grief to hit, plunging him into the abyss of despair as it had on previous anniversaries of her death. But the feeling of hopelessness didn’t come, only a gentle sadness.
"Once, someone close to her complained about a corrupt official in Dale who was taking bribes. You know how light our steps are; you humans don’t hear them. She put on a black robe and pretended to be a ghost to come to collect his bribe. They say that official never took bribes again," Legolas laughed melodiously, feeling the weight lifting from his soul.
"What’s your favourite memory of her?" Aragorn asked.
"She... loved the stars. It was almost the end of summer, and we were lying on the riverbank in the forest. There were forest scents that you can only find in summer, and the huge bright stars shone in the blue velvet of the sky. I was so happy, swimming in this beauty. I don't remember what we talked about, but I remember her laughter and her voice. When you told me that legend about the lovers, I thought she would have liked it very much. She would have liked you too. My father almost started a war with the dwarves because a necklace he had ordered for her ended up with Thorin Oakenshield, and he didn't want to give it up. I think there was a misunderstanding. You probably don't know this, but Bilbo got part of his treasure, and they traveled back together - Bilbo, my father, Gandalf, and Beorn. Bilbo gave my father a piece of jewelry, I don't know why, maybe to apologize for the stolen keys and the dwarves' escape, or something else, but I think there is something about hobbits, their intuitive inclination towards goodness. They are better than us in many ways. He gave my father that very necklace. She didn’t like heavy and large gemstones, but she loved rock crystal, and river pearls. The necklace had a pattern woven into it, resembling the constellation of the Seekers, you know?”
"The Seekers? It might be known in Rivendell by another name," Aragorn replied. Despite the commonality of elven culture, there were certain regional differences often reflected in different names for the same phenomena.
"Too bad we can’t see the stars tonight, I’d show it to you. It’s located above the constellation of the Snow Wolf; you know where that constellation is," Legolas knew that the Snow Wolf was one of the popular constellations for orientation throughout Middle-earth, although it was called by different names.
"Yes, the Snow Wolf was the first one Elrond made me learn. 'So that your roads may always lead you to your first home,'" Aragorn mimicked his manner of speech exactly, and Legolas couldn’t help but chuckle.
"The Seekers are slightly above the Wolf’s head," Legolas began. "It was my mother's favorite constellation, often depicted as a lighthouse on a cliff. Our legend, as she told me, says that when two people find true love, they can see an invisible star at the place where the lighthouse fire burns. It supposedly twinkles with a particularly warm tone, it’s not the biggest or brightest, but unique. It was placed in the sky to help two lovers find each other, no matter where they are. My parents said they saw it, but I think they were teasing me. I was a child then and believed everything they said. The symbol of this constellation, the star, was the brightest gem in that necklace."
In our lives, many miracles happen, some are big and affect many lives, others are quiet, almost imperceptible, and often unnoticed. What happened next falls into the second category. A sudden wind blew off the clouds, and Legolas raised his hand, pointing up.
"Look, above the Wolf’s head... Aragorn! I see that star."
"I see the star too," Aragorn said, beginning to feel sleepy and stifling a yawn.
In the night sky, at the top part of the constellation of the Seekers, a faint yellow star glowed, pulsing like the light of a beacon.
"I have never seen it before."
"Wandering stars exist; some appear only in certain years, some only at certain times of the year, others are visible in specific latitudes and disappear when we look at them from other places," Aragorn explained.
"Yes, perhaps that's it," Legolas agreed, thinking about how he wished he could share with his mother that he had finally managed to see her favourite star.
***
Despite being utterly exhausted, Aragorn joins the celebrations after the battle at Helm's Deep. He bitterly thinks that they are wasting their time and that Gondor needs help, but Théoden is as stubborn as a mule and refuses to listen. More than anything, Aragorn wants to have some rest, but the people follow him and believe in him, and he is obliged to share this victory with them, though it is marred by many losses. Éowyn offers him a cup of wine. The maiden of Rohan is beautiful, but Aragorn's gaze lingers on his nighttime companion, now dressed in bright festive attire and participating in a drinking contest with Gimli. He is glad to see Legolas relaxed; the prince's burden had been no lighter than his own. Their nighttime conversations were a source of great comfort for Aragorn too. Slowly he had grown accustomed to relying on Legolas, discussing with him his fears and future plans. Aragorn looked at Legolas, feeling a warmth spreading inside. He squinted, noticing that Legolas was limping. "Limping" wasn't the right word. His gait had changed, from light-elven steps to heavier human ones. Others probably wouldn't notice. The right leg. Legolas, feeling the intense gaze, turned and responded with a genuine smile, raising his mug in a playful gesture.
Later, Aragorn stepped out onto the porch to take a break from the noisy feast, where Legolas was already sitting on the steps, leaning against the railing, his keen gaze wandering into the distance.
"What's wrong with your right leg?" Aragorn asked.
"Nothing. It's nothing."
"Legolas," Aragorn said warningly.
Legolas remained silent.
"You're limping."
"No."
"I can see that you are."
"I can perform all the duties of a warrior. I won't let you down."
Aragorn hadn't expected any other answer, so he swiftly grabbed Legolas's leg and, before he could pull it back, examined it, carefully pressing the calf in various places, which elicited an angry whisper from Legolas:
"Aragorn! I'm fine... ouch!"
"Can you stop being so insufferable for a moment and let me help you? Let me examine you!"
Legolas frowned and pursed his lips but relaxed and stopped resisting. Aragorn pulled off his boot and heard:
"Ouch!"
Fortunately, he found nothing serious, despite fearing the worst. Legolas, like all of them, liked to play the hero. There were no broken bones and there was no swelling. Aragorn found a spasmed muscle. Legolas glared angrily from under his brows. Aragorn tried not to laugh; this is what he gets for his good deeds.
"Press against my hand," he said, grateful that Elrond had once made him study medicine. Though Aragorn was far from being a healer, he knew a few things well. "Harder. With your foot, as if you're trying to push me away. Now release. Press again. You're not even trying. Release."
Legolas's face could no longer hide what he thought of this procedure. Aragorn tried not to show any reaction. He checked with his fingers— the spasm was gone.
"Try not to overstrain that leg," Aragorn said, letting go of him and standing to return inside.
The next morning, Aragorn was pleased to note that Legolas was no longer limping, striding with his usual gait.
***
After the battle at Helm's Deep, what feels like an eternity passes before they set out to aid Gondor. Spring slowly starts to assert its rights, the bright sun cautiously offering its first warmth, though the nights remain cold. What remains of the fellowship fits into a single tent, kindly provided by Théoden. The hobbits immediately occupy the far corner, somehow making it cozy and homelike.
"No smoking in the tent," Aragorn sternly tells them. The last thing they need is to burn down the Rohirrim tent, or worse, the entire camp. He can feel Pippin mocking him behind his back and sighs as he exits the tent.
Rohirrims are on watch tonight and the friends agree they can be trusted. In this rare moment of calm before the storm, all the companions can rest for the night.
To Aragorn's absolute astonishment, Gimli, feeling safe, spreads out like a starfish in his sleep, taking up half the tent. Have you ever tried to wake a dwarf in a deep sleep? It is not only futile but often quite dangerous. Aragorn and Legolas have no choice but to squeeze into the remaining half of the tent. During the night, Aragorn wakes up to a strange sensation of weight on his chest. Opening his eyes, he can feel, rather than see, Legolas's head. Smiling, he drifts back to sleep.
Legolas dreams of his mother. Radiant with her otherworldly beauty, she smiles at him with that familiar smile.
"Emel," Legolas says in awe.
"Ion," she replies in a voice that sounds like a murmur of a forest stream.
"I..." Legolas begins, overwhelmed by all he wants to say.
"I know," she says, reaching out to gently touch his face. "I love you."
"I miss you."
"I do too, but we cannot change what has happened. You are my brightest star. I am glad you have found someone to see the stars with."
Legolas covers her hand with his, not understanding what she means.
She adds with a chuckle, "Even if you do not see it yourself yet," familiar playful sparks dancing in her eyes. "Your paths can no longer be separated. You will understand. I am proud of you, gil nín.”
***
After the victory over Sauron, the shadow left Mirkwood, and Greenwood now was heard more often in the different corners of the world. However, the Wood-elves continued to fiercely guard their borders and were not welcoming outsiders. On this clear August night, intoxicated by the scents of herbs and harvest, and a little bit by the wine from Dale, two lay by the riverside. The elf’s head rested on the shoulder of the man and his fingers pointed upwards to the dark, boundless sky strewn with diamond-like stars.
"Look, Aragorn, it’s our star!" Legolas exclaimed in awe.
They could see this star every cloudless night, but each time Legolas was filled with such joy and enthusiasm that Aragorn, like any other fool in love, could only smile warmly watching his beloved, feeling tenderness overflow his heart. Carefreeness suited Legolas well.
They were visiting Thranduil. Though initially displeased with his son's choice (no one was ever good enough for the prince in the king's eyes), Thranduil quickly understood everything seeing them together. Not possessing Elrond's gift of foresight, he nonetheless saw the strength of their bond, which reminded him of his late wife. He saw that unyielding determination in his son's eyes, the same that he himself had when he led his bride to the altar.
Some love stories begin with a storm, a single glance, a fleeting gesture. Others grow from friendship, from trust, a bridge extended from one soul to another, from a hundred steps taken simultaneously by two people towards each other. This story belonged to the latter; beginning as a friendship, it blossomed into one of the most beautiful feelings. And although it took our heroes time to understand and accept what had happened, love made a triumph this time. Nothing, not even death, can stand in the way of true love, and no force can keep apart two who have seen the star in the constellation of the Seekers.
---
*Emel* - mother
*Ion* - son
*Gil nín* - my star