I Am
By Firniswin
Rating: PG-13 (T+)
Series: Yes. I don't really have a title for it, but the stories in it are "The Blind Can Not See What the Mute Can Not Say", "Blind Trust", and this installment: "I Am"
If you haven't read the first story in the series, then you might want to. But, if you want to give it a go, that's fine too. You might be alright; I make quite a few references to the other two stories. Anyway onto the story!
Chapter One
The Simple Life
Frodo smiled as he watched Legolas and Aragorn playfully banter across the table.
The elven prince would switch dishes and salad bowls so that, in reaching for a desired food, Aragorn, or Estel as he liked to be called, would dish up the wrong delicacy.
This was becoming increasingly entertaining to the hobbit because whenever the man would taste the food, his lips would pucker and he would, as politely as possible; spit the abhorrent food back onto his plate.
And, of course, Legolas would laugh till he thought wine might come out his nose.
"Legolas, quit that!" Estel seemed completely exasperated by his elven friend. "I would like some sort of nourishment tonight."
Frodo was so enthralled with this that he was terribly startled when he felt someone poke his tender shoulder.
He hissed grasping at the aching area and Sam, who was indeed the culprit, slapped his forehead. "Oh, dear me, I am sorry Mister Frodo. I plum forgot about yer hurtin' shoulder!"
He smiled, but continued to watch the elf and ranger. "That's quite alright, Sam."
"Mister Frodo, do ya think Longshanks will ever see?"
Frodo's smile faded and he turned to look at his friend. His eyes were sorrowful and he shrugged. "I don't know, Sam." He tried to smile again, but it never reached his eyes. "Maybe someday, after all this is over and he has a chance to be who he was born to be, maybe then…" his sentence trailed off and he went back to eating the little food left upon his plate.
Sam tilted his head. "I sure hope he does get to. See again, I mean. He sure deserves it!"
"Indeed he does, Sam. Indeed he does."
"Legolas, stop! I know you are happy I am alive, but if you don't stop, you will be the death of me!"
The prince chuckled as he leaned back against the pillows and let the warmth of the fire wash over his body.
"It is so wonderful to be back here, with you." He handed a pillow over to Estel, whose hand was raking the couch for one of the fluffed cushions.
The man took it gratefully and propped it behind his head. He let his bare feet dangle off the edge and his walking stick lay across his lap, tightly held in his grasp.
"Yes," he sighed. "It is nice. It's been quite a few long years, Legolas."
The prince eyed his friend and rolled his blue eyes, scoffing. "Only you could take things so lightly, Estel."
Legolas breathed an uncomfortable sigh, feeling as if he'd brought up a bad memory. "So," he said, coughing trying to brush the matter aside as well as trying to change the subject. "I am leaving for home in a couple of days, after the council is over and I am sure father would be thrilled to see you again. What say you? Come to Mirkwood for a while and we can go hunting."
"Hunting? Have you ever seen a blind man hunt?" Estel snorted.
"Well, frankly, no. Do you hunt?"
The man smiled. "Oh, yes! But, I've only ever hunted alone. Anything else would be far too dangerous for my brothers. I'm an excellent shot though!"
Legolas cringed and rubbed his chest thoughtfully, wondering what it would feel like to have an arrow there. He gulped and tried to smile, but failed. "Alright, maybe no hunting. How about horseback riding?"
Aragorn smiled wide. "That would be grand."
"So is it a yes, then?" the prince sat up and leaned forward, reaching his hands towards the fire and watching as the flame's light sprang from one finger to the other.
"I've never been to Mirkwood before; it would be an interesting experience." He grinned and leaned further back and laid his legs atop the footrest. "The great caves of the Mirkwood palace-"
"Caves? We live in tunnels, Estel! Not Caves!"
The exasperation in Legolas's voice made Aragorn chuckle and he nodded humorously, adding in a mocking voice. "Oh, of course, of course. Not caves! No, that would be preposterous!"
"Come, come. Are you going to join me, or no?"
The man snorted wildly. "Of course I will join you. We haven't seen each other for some sixty years! It would be an ideal time to catch up."
In excitement, the elven prince grinned and nodded fitfully. "Wonderful!"
He was about to speak again, when he saw a tall, dark haired elven maiden make her way towards them. She wore a dress of the softest, maroon velvet and her silvery eyes glimmered in the firelight.
Legolas smiled more broadly as she came and, flattening her dress, she sat gracefully down beside Aragorn, who looked towards her a pleasant look of giddiness on his weathered features.
It almost seemed that he could see her right before him; however, Legolas knew that to be impossible. He decided not to address it, but rather watched with interest as the two lovebirds cuddled.
"Greetings, Arwen." Estel whispered softly, sounding as if he was hypnotized.
The maiden laughed lightly, stroking her beloved's hair and looking up to make certain they were not being watched. Once she saw that none were watching them, she bent down quickly and placed a tender kiss on the human's cheek.
"I love you." She breathed deeply, smelling the scents that inhabited his clothing- sweet and swarthy scents that filled her nose and made her smile. They were indeed the smells of her beloved, and oh, how she loved him!
Legolas, feeling that he should not intrude, rose to his feet and backed away from the couch. He watched with a smile as the two cuddled closer for a few moments and then, still hypnotized as ever, Aragorn stood with Arwen and they made their way slowly from the room.
The elf prince chuckled and turned, stretching lightly and turning to go to his quarters. He wanted to be rested for the Council tomorrow and he knew that Aragorn would be there. Not to mention that they would always have time in Mirkwood and on the way up. He would let the man and elf-maiden have some private time. Who knew when they would see each other again? Should the war come this way- Legolas shook his head. He needed no more thoughts of this horror.
Walking, he saw the Halflings, and the one called Frodo in particular. He raised an eyebrow thoughtfully and marveled at their small size. 'Surely one so small could not do all they say he did?' the prince pondered and, shrugging his shoulders turned for the door.
Aragorn lay upon a rock bench, his smile was pleasant and you could easily see the wonder on his face.
'Eru,' he breathed a sigh as he thought. 'You have given me such a fine woman. I know not if I can go on without her.'
He was about to continue his prayer when he heard footsteps upon the stone outside.
He stopped and raised himself up, taking his walking cane in one hand and leaning upon it nonchalantly, but listening as the walker drew near. In the hard, clattering step, he detected it was a man, but he could not be certain from whence he came.
Estel sniffed the air softly, hoping to gather some clue but he could hardly smell the stranger. He was clean, yes, but not much else could inform Aragorn who he was.
"Oh." The stranger's voice was rough and strong, a man- which Aragorn had already found from his sturdy step. "I am sorry; I hope I am not disturbing you."
The ranger shook his head. "No. Please, excuse me." He smiled, remembering how astonishing Arwen had smelt and her curling, cascading locks had blown against his cheek. "I was only thinking."
The southern man, for Aragorn had detected an odd accent to his voice that was most decidedly southern, chuckled. "Oh," Estel could hear the smile on the man's face. "I see."
The man did not speak for a few moments, but then as he made his way closer to the monument in the middle of the room he could not help his curiosity. "Hmmm… sounds as though you are bewitched by a woman…" his tone was sly and taunting, but Aragorn did not take the bait.
"Yes." He answered soberly, leaning more fully upon his walking stick and listening to the other man as he walked.
This stranger, whoever he might be, kept his distance and did not venture too close to Aragorn.
Estel listened as he grasped the handle of Narsil and held it tightly in his palm.
"So this is the sword of Isildur…" his whisper was hoarse and he stood amazed, not even realizing that the heir to the throne of Gondor sat but a few feet from him.
TBC…
(Quick P.S. If you are confused about why I am starting this story, read the Bio, or if you havem't, just read it anyway. :D Blessings!)