disclaimers: lord of the rings belongs to their rightful owners.
a/n: lines of eówyn and some of aragorn are borrowed from the third book, rotk. and damn, i honestly don't know what i want to do here. if there are any grammer errors and typos, sorry, i'll edit it more thoroughly again if i have time. given the situation that aragorn had confessed his (oh-so-great!) love for legolas, i wrote this. i've handled arwen and aragorn's betrothal before, and decided she would just be aragorn's foster sister and friend here, although there'd prolly be no mention of her in this fic. takes place the night after the battle of the pelennor fields.. but it's not much of a spoiler to those who haven't read the 3rd book yet, *looks at a certain girl named chi...lol* all you have to know that it's a night after a great battle.. ^__^

nothing graphic but still contains SLASH [a/l]. now shoo, if you don't like it. i'm sure there are many hetero fics out there you might like.
single quotes are elvish, and italicized words are memories.

THE SLAP OF MORTALITY__________
part 1: a walk with memory

Legolas averted his eyes from the carnage of orcs and humans alike on the ground somewhere in the distance. Instead, swiftly and quickly, he made his way through the battlefield and to the tents of the Dúnedain.

It had been a long day and the battle that was fought had been far more than hard and tiring. Although he might not be as weary as men were, it left his heart heavy with the fading hope of victory over the Nameless Foe that lied in the east.

For the moment even though victory was on their side, much was lost. Noble men and valiant warriors that stood up against the host of Mordor had fallen with great honor protecting their city.

No matter how one would see it, it still was a battle lost.

Men looked up as he passed by. Such fair a being in such environment that screamed death was an uncanny sight, at least to them. Elves weren't seen often in Minas Tirith, and the sight of one in the time of war made it more unlikely to them, for this Elf was neither with a thousand other Elf warriors nor an army to aid them.

Legolas gave them no attention, his cloak doing well in covering his body entirely save for his head. He was here because he was one of the Nine that had set out. And he held that knowledge with pride. What kept him there, however, he was uncertain. If it was for his sense of duty, obligation and responsibility, or strong ties of friendship between the Fellowship, or if he was held with the strong will of Isildur's heir, as many had been, he knew not for sure.

Maybe, indeed, it was the will of Aragorn that kept him there, or the love of him as well, as the Lady Eówyn had said.

As Estel, he was the hope for the race of men, which had been scattered and divided for many years now. As Strider, he was the keeper of peace, fighting off as a Ranger the danger that threatened peaceful lands. As Aragorn, he was a Man blooming to Kingship, a leader in all ways, and a follower as well. And now, for all the years of knowing him, Legolas had a glimpse of what awaits Gondor. Elessar, he was called, and he bore the banner of the White Tree.

All he knew was that whatever would happen, he wished to have a part in it, and Gimli shared that sentiment. For the honor or for the love of Aragorn, or for both, again he was uncertain.

"So may one counsel another," The voice of the Lady Eówyn stopped Legolas in his tracks. It was brave and determined, suggesting the strength of her spirit. "Yet I do not bid you flee from peril, but to ride to battle where your sword may win renown and victory. I would not see a thing that is high and excellent cast away needlessly."

Legolas was amazed at such determination and courage. But he never did wonder why. Eówyn's love for Aragorn was laid out for him to see. And blame her, he could not, for anyone could not help but love the Man upon meeting him and knowing him.

Yet, he knew, based from experience, a love for him that was beyond a love for a friend, master, and leader would prove to be perilous to him, so stay away from it, he tried. Truly, he did.

"Nor would I." Legolas was firmly held in place as Aragorn spoke. He shouldn't be listening in on them, he knew. But his feet refused to move. "Therefore I say to you Lady: Stay! For you have no errand to the South."

"Neither have those others who go with thee. They go only because they would not be parted from thee-because they love thee." At those words, Legolas thoughtfully frowned, his hand stilled on the booth's entrance.

Indeed. Their love for Aragorn had them continue the quest without hesitations or questions. But surely, he loved Aragorn as one would love a leader and a friend, at least that's what he wanted himself to believe.

Suddenly, he was not so certain as he had been for the past days. He had ventured beyond that love once, and forget it, he tried, and he thought he succeeded.

How long he stood there, he had no idea.

"Legolas."

The soft call of his name brought his attention back. He blinked and saw Aragorn standing in front of him. The warm hand on his cheek was left unnoticed until then. Leaning slightly to the familiar touch to acknowledge it, but restraining himself so as not to be too comfortable with it, he said, "Her love for you is not something I could measure."

Aragorn sighed and looked down. "It grieves me to hear that. For it brings me shame as it would to any man, to not be able to reciprocate the feelings of a lady." Truly, his heart grieved to look at the Lady knowing he wouldn't be able to return her feelings. Running his thumb on the smooth cheek, he looked back at the Elf. "Yet," he said. "The same words could be said for my love for you."

Legolas felt the familiar heat in him, his heart beating faster. But he looked away, unable to bear Aragorn's eyes for everything would clearly be there for him to see as it always had been, and he wanted it not. He refused to acknowledge the warmth he felt with those words. He merely smiled.

"Rest, Estel." Legolas gently ordered, his hand coming up to cover Aragorn's own as he slowly removed it from his face. "You will need it." He continued, voice soft and filled with concern. Concern as a friend, he reminded himself. With a soft squeeze on Aragorn's hand, he walked past him and went out of the booth he shared with Gimli and him.

Left behind him, Aragorn sighed, knowing the reaction all too well.

Legolas shook his head. Clearing his thoughts and stirring them away from the thought of the war and the fact that he was immortal and Aragorn was not.

A fact that prevented him to ever acknowledge his continuous growing love for such Man who was more than worthy of it. It was a feeling he would not attempt to put into words, much more acknowledge, lest he would find himself already too attached that the borders of mortality would fade and be unrightfully forgotten only to be reminded in a harsh way such as death.

And forget it, he tried, and still was trying.

Their gentle touches would remain as a token of their special friendship that danced on love of friends and something more. And he planned it to remain that way.

Thankfully for him, Aragorn's high respect for him prevented the man to go further than a sweet caress.

He continued his way, walking and taking his time by going slow. As he did, his eyes roamed over the camp-pitched tents, soldiers bustling around everywhere- and he observed all that was around him.

As he watched a young boy running up to someone, who he assumed was the boy's father, and hugged him, a soft smile formed in his lips. Perhaps war made people realized the value of each other.

Indeed. He learned to value the companionship he had with the Company and even to conquer the differences between Gimli and him and used it as a fuel to their still growing friendship.

Although, the events also led him to slowly realize that his love for his friend would not be contained for long.

He sighed. If things continued to go that way, perhaps he would truly be forced to witness the death of a mortal lover. But if he could, he'd try to maintain their friendship and nothing more. For a death of a friend, even though still very much grievous, was something much less painful.

~~~

a/n: send in your feedbacks. tell me you don't get it or what..i'd appreciate hearing from you. and, btw, this is not a one shot fic. *yawn* i have to go sleep now, my bed is calling me to lie down and get all comfy with the pillows and blankets... and do that i will..