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I can not look at him, so I turn away letting his eyes burn holes into my back. I look instead at the trees surrounding us without really seeing them.
"Legolas," he breathes and I feel him reach for me. Calloused fingertips brush against my arm, I pull away imagining the hurt in his eyes. Yet it could never compare to what I feel.
He grabs me and spins me around to face him, I can not meet his eyes – I never expected this from him. Then again, it is my own fault for surrendering myself so wholly to him; he is, after all, only a man.
But he is the man I love. My Aragorn.
But no more. The gravity of the situation hits me, and I feel my loss crashing down on me and I almost fall down by the pain of it all. I manage to steel myself to look into his grey-blue eyes once again. He sees the struggle within me and he looks pained.
"Say what you must, Aragorn. Drag this out no longer." I say with more conviction than I feel.
"I am sorry, you will never know how much." He chokes out and I believe him. However it does nothing to ease my pain.
"Then… How could you?" I whisper, it hurts me to speak, I look away. There's nothing I could ever do to fix this.
As if he senses this he clutches me to him and breathes raggedly. "It was never ever my wish. Gondor needs me to continue the line of the Numenorean Kings. I need an heir. And… and…" he struggles to say her name "Arwen can provide me that."
His words slice through me. The thought of them producing heirs together sickens me, I attempt to pull away. But he grips me even tighter.
"Aragorn, please," I beg. I wish for nothing more than to be away from here, running away into the night. Running away from everything I've ever known. Still, it conflicts with my love for him. I still need him, every inch of my body burns for him, every fibre of my being aches for him.
It is as if the world I knew so well has been turned upside down; Aragorn, once my solace and reason for happiness, has made me feel so much pain in a way I never believed to be possible.
"Do you love her?" I manage to ask, dreading the answer.
He looks at me incredulously, "I can not believe you could ever ask me that, Legolas. You know I never could."
I stare back at him dryly. "You are, after all, marrying her. Thus, I believe love is expected."
"Do not," he gives me a little shake, "talk like that. It is only a political marriage. You know as much as I do that I could never love anyone half as much as I love you."
It is only a political marriage? I can't hear this anymore. My heart is already damaged from having him reveal that he is betrothed to Arwen Undomiel. I would not allow him to harm it further. "My heart belongs to you, Aragorn. It always has, and it always will. But you are now to be married, nothing more will ever happen between us. Please release me." He complies and I turn to leave.
But something holds me back - half a century of pure joy and true love being thrown away in a single minute. This could not be the way we say goodbye. Hence, I refuse to say it. I begin to walk away when his voice stays me.
"You will move on, meleth, I have faith in the Valar that you will. You have an eternity ahead of you. Yet I will spend the rest of my life not having you, and hating myself for it."
"No, you are wrong, Aragorn. I will never move on, a thousand seasons will pass me by and I will still love you. I had accepted the fact that I would lose you one day, but at the hands of fate, not your own."
With a stifled cry he sinks to the ground, I can not walk away from this. Instead I find myself walking towards him. In an instant I am on my knees beside him, embracing him, letting him rest his weary head on my shoulder. I can feel his tears dampening my sleeve. I soothingly run my fingers through his dark tousled hair. He breaks away and gazes in to my eyes. I feel myself being drowned by the magnetic pull of his eyes, the color of a stormy sea.
And my love for him is what anchors me to this spot.
Before I can think he is crushing his lips to mine and we're locked in a passionate embrace. We've kissed a million times before, but not like this. Never like this. There is pain warring with love. There is sorrow battling with desire. My lips against his. There is no questioning that we both know that this is to be our last kiss. My tongue seeks his, and we are lost in the moment. His fingers trail a line of fire along my neck, while mine are laced in his hair.
Reality catches up to me – staggering me. I break away reluctantly and look at him. He gazes at me, tears brimming his eyes, he strokes my jaw and we both realise this is the end. He is so breathtaking. His eyes are as beautiful as the first day I saw them. I gather the broken pieces of my heart together and press my nose against his forehead, inhaling his woody scent for what I wish wasn't the last time, and stand up.
"I love you, my Estel." I tell him.
"And I will never stop loving you, meleth" he replies, his voice stricken with grief.
I turn on my heel and walk away into the waking day, feeling oddly free – I then realise that this was the goodbye we were meant to have all along.
