Hey guys!

It's me, The Penultimate Ending here, with my first fic on fanfiction . net! ^_^

It's based on the song 'Remember Me' by The Zutons, but is rather more angsty than the song :D

Ever since I heard the song, this fic was begging to be written, so I hope you all enjoy reading it as much as I did writing it!

It is different to both the book and film worlds in several ways, for the purpose of this song.

By the way,

Reviews. Are. LOVE.

Enjoy!

DISCLAIMER: I'm sure you know the drill. My writing ability isn't even a candle to the Sun that is Tolkien's. I couldn't possibly own this :)

Well we used to be the best of friends
And we used to hang around

The huge ball that Queen Arwen had organised for all the nobles and ambassadors from other Kingdoms was beginning to wind down. Legolas sat in the shadow of a huge marble pillar, taking a moment's peace after the excitement of the evening. He was reminiscing. He remembered with perfect clarity the days before Aragorn's Crowning when he and the Man, along with Gimli, had set off to catch the Uruk-hai that had kidnapped Merry and Pippin. And before that, when he and Aragorn had been navigating the way for the Fellowship over treacherous terrain. He even recalled before that, when he had helped the Ranger hunt down the creature Gollum, through the woods of the lands before finally imprisoning him in his homeland, Mirkwood.

Now I always see you and your new girlfriend
On the sunny side of town

He watched as the leader of the Dunedain, Ranger of the North, now Lord Aragorn laughed with his queen, the Lady Arwen Undomiel as they talked to an ambassador from Rohan. They were standing close together, smiling and being perfect hosts to their guests. The perfect couple. He observed as Arwen shifted her weight, turning to the side a little, and the Ranger moved with her, as one, shadowing her as closely as only lovers can. At this new angle, Legolas noticed his hand, splayed across the small of her back, obviously too in love to let go.

Oh your body is the same and your face ain't changed
But your mind ain't where it's at

Legolas could see that his body, although now encased within the velvet and silver of the Royal garb rather than a rough woollen cloak, was still strong and lithe and he had kept his finesse, even through all his years as King. His eyes moved to Aragorn's face again. He was unchanged. A couple more grey strands of hair perhaps, a more salt-and-pepper look to his beard, the lines around his mouth (now from laughter, not frowns) a little more pronounced, but overall, unchanged. His eyes however, had changed their focus. Before, he had been intent on scouting out danger, hunting down evil, now they centred securely on his Queen, making the Man mostly oblivious to anything else. He watched every breath, every shift of weight, moving with her, keeping her secure with his absolute devotion to her.

You're too busy hugging and a-kissing now
And for you that can't be bad

The Lady Arwen laughed again, catching the Man's eye. He chuckled too, holding her gaze for a long moment before suddenly leaning in and stealing a gentle kiss from her lips. He pulled back, grinning like a small child, and she smiled with him, and then turned back to the ambassador. Aragorn's eyes remained on her face, as if he was trying to drink in and memorise her flawless beauty. Legolas noticed that his hand had shifted so his arm was now more securely draped around her waist. The elf smiled softly, trying to crush the slight twinge of jealousy in his heart. He remembered how Aragorn had been as a Ranger, constantly alone. He had explained to Legolas once that he was naturally a lone wolf, but the blonde suspected differently. Though Aragorn had never asked for his company, he had never rejected it and, seeing Aragorn now, surrounded by people and completely devoted in his love, he wondered how the old Aragorn survived so well alone.

But I've made a deal with the clouds
Gonna turn that sun into rain

Legolas looked at the Lady Arwen for a long moment. Her shimmering beauty enraptured all to cross her path, and he was not surprised Aragorn had fallen in love with her. He did notice, however, how her eyes kept flicking over to one of the elven guests, a tall, striking figure from Lothlorien. He wondered what her thoughts were on this elf, what images her mind was creating, and wondered how Aragorn had missed these glances. Love is blind. The old saying came to him abruptly. Aragorn didn't see the way her eyes wandered, because he didn't want to. Legolas immediately felt torn, and his stomach twisted, unsure of what to do. Who was he to instil doubts in the King's heart because of a couple of possibly meaningless glances? But Legolas looked harder, seeing the way Arwen's body was tilted a little more toward the chestnut-haired elf, how all her glances were coy and from under her thick lashes. He bit his lip with pearly teeth. How could he tell Aragorn of this, as a friend, when they no longer found the time to talk? How could he tell him that his Queen wanted another?

So you forget about your love
Come and see me again

Legolas toyed with the idea for a long time. Looking at the Man that was once his greatest friend and almost constant companion, he knew that Aragorn was so in love, Legolas mattered little to him any more. He felt a sharp twinge of grief in his heart as he thought of how far he had lost his closest comrade to Arwen's shimmering beauty. Abruptly, all the times Aragorn had rejected his companionship in favour of his Lady's came to him, every time passed a spar in the courtyard or a hunting trip for lunch with his Queen. It hurt him, and a brief flame of jealousy flared hot inside him for a moment. He suddenly found himself longing for the old days, of he and Aragorn trekking through the wilds, on a hunt for game. He and Aragorn, sitting close round a campfire planning raids on an Orc camp. He and Aragorn, sparring every day in the leafy clearings of Mirkwood, both constantly trying to gain the upper hand over the other. He sighed resignedly.

Oh remember me I'm your best friend
And we don't talk no more

He tried to remember the last time he had talked to Aragorn. Properly talked, not just as a passing gesture of acknowledgement in the corridors, or a formal greeting at meals or ambassadorial meetings. He couldn't recall one for a long, long time. He knew that Aragorn's Kingly duties, important things like deciding laws and running the Kingdom, took up an awful lot of his time, but he knew that came only second in the Aragorn's list of important obligations. His glorious, everlasting wife was his priority. The Man was a fool. Raising his eyebrows and the sudden inappropriate thought, Legolas was shocked at himself. Abruptly scowling at having worked himself into such a spiteful and melancholy mood, he took one last look at Aragorn before making the appropriate excuses and apologies to the appropriate people and leaving. The gathering was winding down and reaching its end anyway. Few would stay much longer.

So if you're in the neighbourhood
Don't forget to knock on my door

He made his way almost absently to his rooms, still thinking furiously, despite now being away from the subject of his contemplation. Moving into the large central chamber, the elf sat himself down in a plush red chair by the quietly smouldering fire. His blue eyes were focused intently on the door to his suite, as if trying to burn a hole in it. Legolas was again remembering. A rush of memory suddenly flooded his mind at the sight of the door. That was that last time he and Aragorn had talked, properly that is. Aragorn had arrived unannounced, no messenger to tell of his imminent appearance, as was befitting of a King, no warning at all. Legolas had just heard a knock on his door and opened it, revealing Aragorn. He had swept in, sat down, then proceeded to talk about… nothing much, really, Legolas seemed to recall. Some stresses about a particular law, and an uprising of bandits on the border of Ithilien that Faramir had managed to subdue. He had mentioned that he missed his freedom, which is why he had slipped out of his extensive chambers for a walk. Legolas remembered feeling a little used all of a sudden. What was he? Someone that would give the King a place to hide when he felt like giving his Guards the slip? A puppet for him to spill out all his worries to, just because it wasn't something a King was not supposed to do? Legolas let the anger fill him for a while, letting it boil in his stomach, seethe through his veins and curl his pale, slender hands into tight fists.

Cause I've got to keep the feeling, keep the feeling in
Gotta keep the feeling, keep the feeling in

He took a deep breath. Then another. He flexed his fingers, then gripped the chair's arms tightly, preventing any damage. Another deep breath. It wasn't often he let his anger overwhelm him so, but now he couldn't help it. It was a desperate anger, one that was born from feeling undervalued for so long, and it felt like liquid fire searing through his veins. He was a friend to the King, he was. Not just another advisor or guardian or servant to do his bidding. They had years of history, years of it, and he was thrown aside for an elfmaiden? How could the Man do that to him? How could he?

Gotta keep the feeling, keep the feeling in
Gotta keep the feeling, keep the feeling in

Gritting his teeth, he eventually managed to squash he momentary rage down to a simmering in his stomach. A last deep breath and he pulled the layer of serenity he prided himself in keeping back over his emotions. The anger was clearly unnecessary, he found himself thinking. Aragorn still enjoyed his company, and was enjoying it while he could. Legolas was quite happy to listen to the King's worries, so why should he be angry? He was more that a convenience to Aragorn, wasn't he? Suddenly, Legolas had got up and yanked open the door again and was striding purposefully down the corridors. He needed to know that Aragorn still thought of him, still valued his advice and companionship, still reminisced about those old days of freedom.

Now I stand upon your path
And I'm shouting up to you

The Royal Guards simply nodded to him when he arrived at the Royal wing of the palace. He used to be a very familiar visitor here, and they knew he was a trusted advisor to the King. Taking a deep breath, Legolas knocked sharply on the door and it was opened almost immediately by one of the Royal servants. She looked like one of Lady Arwen's many handmaidens.
"Prince Legolas." She greeted him, curtsying. "I apologise, we were not expecting you." She glanced around the immaculate room, as if expecting him to complain about the mess. He was in a far too impatient and impulsive mood to care, even if there was any.
"It's quite all right. Now, summon Lord Aragorn for me, I have matters to discuss with him." Legolas bit out, his impatience clawing at him, making him cold and purposeful.
"B-but, he is with Her Majesty, Lady Arwen," the girl stuttered, clearly following orders from the King to not be disturbed. Even by his best friend? Legolas wondered. "He does not wish to be summoned until the morrow." The young girl stuttered, obviously suddenly put out by his intense blue eyes, which he was focusing on her very pointedly. He stayed silent, just looking and she dithered visibly for a long moment, before scampering off to the King and Queen's private chambers.

Won't you come and give me a minute now
There's a message here for you

At length, the girl entered again, and after a moment, Aragorn entered in tow. He met Legolas' eyes and raised an quizzical eyebrow, before quirking his lips up in a smile.
"Legolas, I wasn't expecting you!" He was smiling, but the elf could hear the slight edge of irritation to his tone. He had wanted to be left alone with his Queen tonight. Just like every night. Aragorn gestured to a couple of armchairs near a fireplace, and they sat facing each other. "What is so important to discuss it cannot wait until the morrow?" He asked once they had settled. Legolas met his eyes again and floundered suddenly. He had come here on impulse, without a plan, insecure about whether his friend valued him or not. He had not thought it through, which was a very rare thing for Legolas to do. Oh, Valar, what could he say?

Me and a couple of old school friends
We're going out to drink

Suddenly, an idea struck him.
"I came to talk to you about the planned visit the Glittering Caves," he started, and he watched Aragorn's face fall, just momentarily, before he composed it again. The King really hadn't wanted to be disturbed, not even by his closest friend, Legolas realised.
"What about it?" The Man's voice sounded almost weary, as if he was hoping for an evening free of negotiating and discussing and political manoeuvring. Legolas paused again, once more hoping for a sudden flash of inspiration. None came, so he opted for the first thing to come to him.
"It should happen sooner, don't you think?" he suggested, hoping Aragorn would not see through his farce. The Man's eyes looked at him, through him. It seemed he was just another person to deal with, preventing him from being with his wife.
"Lord Gimli expressed in his letters that the new chambers he wanted built would not be finished before the date we arranged. It would be impractical and inconvenient for him if we arrived sooner." Said Aragorn flatly, reasoning with perfect logic, but no passion. Where was the friendship they had shared? Legolas worried.
"Can we not stay in other chambers?" Legolas questioned, already knowing it was futile. He needed to think of a topic to get the Man more involved, make him stop being so cold and instil some feeling within him.
"Again, the chambers are being built especially, and it would be a waste of many precious resources not to use it." Aragorn told him, his voice once more expressionless. What made the man more involved than anything else? Legolas wondered, desperate to get his friend back, not this empty shell.

You can come along but leave your girl at home
It'll give you time to think

"I don't think Lady Arwen should take the trip with us, King Elessar!" he blurted out suddenly, and Aragorn raised his eyebrows, looking surprised at the outburst, before the meaning settled in. He bristled immediately.
"And why do you think that, Prince Legolas?" he asked, his tone suddenly filled with a quiet, dangerous anger. Legolas silently took a deep breath. Now he was treading on thin ice, playing with fire. An angry Aragorn was not something he could ever handle.
"We are travelling by horse without much of the Royal train. I'm not sure it would be the best journey for her. And the dwarves are not so well known for their tolerance and hospitality for…" he paused, pondering how to put it. "more feminine women." He decided finally. Aragorn narrowed his eyes.
"My Queen has travelled on ambassadorial voyages without many luxuries, Prince. I am sure she can cope." Aragorn argued, his voice heavy with disdain. Legolas clamped down on the panic rising inside him. He was losing Aragorn further, just trying to bring him back.

But you called at the last minute
Said that you were staying in

"Now, Legolas," said the King abruptly, standing up. His stance was suddenly imperial, taking charge and looking down on the elf for disrupting the order of things. "If that is all you have come to say, I suggest you sleep on it, and we shall pick it up again on the morrow." Legolas knew that Aragorn's word was naturally a promise, but he also knew the Man was jesting with him. There was no way he would leave his wife for so long, or his Kingdom. Not just to be with his two closest companions. They were no longer that important to him. Legolas felt that realisation crush something inside him. Barely holding himself together, he nodded sharply to the King.
"As you wish, King Elessar." He bit out. Aragorn inclined his head just once in dismissal, before retreating back to his rooms without a backward glance. Legolas remembered being guided out by the handmaid, the heading back to his rooms. By the time he sat back in the red plush chair by the fire, everything inside him that had broken had coalesced into a burning pit of anger.

Well this is not a joke old friend
I'm a-getting sick of this

How could he be replaced so easily? He seethed, his hands itching for his bow. It was just over the other side of the room, but he knew that he couldn't trust himself if he picked it up. For all he knew, he could quite easily assassinate the King – or Queen – in this state. He stayed where he was, just sitting and seething. He was sick of it. Sick of feeling inferior to someone who didn't even love him. She wanted another, or maybe others. Maybe her eye often wandered from Aragorn to touch on other prizes. Perhaps the King of the most powerful realm in Middle Earth wasn't enough for her, no matter how much he gave her. No matter how much his blind love for her made him oblivious to all else that was important. Legolas needed to get out of here, and soon. He would go back to his homeland, forget about the King, forget about Gimli, the Fellowship, everything. He would just be Prince Greenleaf of Mirkwood, Captain of the Guard, and that would be that. A sudden longing to lose himself in the hard grind of scouting parties, constant politics and the feeling of his arrow piercing flesh consumed him. He did not want to be Legolas any more. He would just have his title, no name. He would start anew, without all those who had brushed him off like dirt off their boots.
He left for Mirkwood without a word early the next morning.

Oh remember me when she leaves you
And you come and knock on my door

*Eight Months Later*

"Prince Greenleaf!" called one of his many servants that ran at his beck and call. The Prince looked up from the map he had been studying, his brow furrowed.
"What is it?" he said sharply, not wanting to be disturbed, to lose focus on his duties. A manservant moved smartly into the room and bowed deeply. He had ordered them all to do so around him now.
"A most unhappy visitor has arrived, requesting your summons, Prince." The dark-haired elf informed him. Legolas scoffed. He was sick of citizens coming to him with their troubles after his father had sent them away from his throne.
"Sent them away." He said sharply and turned back to the map, an obvious dismissal. The servant lingered, however.
"He was most insistent, my Lord. And he has this certain authority about him. The Guards moved to escort him out, but he commanded them back to their posts, and there they have stayed." He revealed, then he hesitated for a moment before lowering his voice. "I think perhaps it is best for you to see him, my Prince." He advised. The Prince whipped round, his face all hard lines.
"It is not your job to tell me who I should see and who I should not, servant." He snarled, before standing straighter and taking a deep breath, placing on that regal mask that only his servants saw him without. "Nevertheless. Bring him in." said Greenleaf, raising his chin and adjusting his stance. His eyes turned to blue frost, cold and imperial.
Then suddenly, the visitor appeared in his rooms and Legolas felt himself fill with warmth, melting the ice that he had encased his heart within. Aragorn.
"Prince Legolas," said the Man in greeting, and Legolas was taken back to the old days that he had forced himself to forget. The days of the Fellowship and before. For standing here in his rooms was not King Elessar, it was Aragorn the Ranger, his dearest friend, cloaked in a worn leather jerkin and mud-splattered riding boots. He felt his heart swell.
"Aragorn!" he exclaimed, moving over to embrace him. Pulling back he noticed the Man's eyes. They were bright, happy, but the elf saw something else within them, carefully hidden. Sadness. He felt himself bristling immediately. What had happened to the Man while he had been away? "What is wrong, my friend?" he asked, allowing his voice to fill with concern. Aragorn's eyes shimmered for a moment before he strengthened himself.
"It is Arwen. She expressed that she no longer wishes to be my Queen." Aragorn said, his voice quiet. Legolas could hear the broken note that he had obviously hidden well from his own kind.
"Oh, Valar…" said Legolas softly, guiding the Man over to a chair.

Well I can nurse your broken heart
Cause that's what friends are for

Legolas sighed again, moving over to pour some of Mirkwood's best elven wine for his friend then sitting down opposite him. Aragorn downed the glass in one, and Legolas refilled it once more.
"She has told me that one of the Royal mariners has offered to build her a ship. She wishes to sail to the Undying Lands with… with another elf." Aragorn explained, his gaze on the deep rouge of the wine. Legolas bit his lip.
"What of Eldarion, your son? Has she expressed no regret?" Legolas asked, unused to dealing with such extreme situations that brought forth so many emotions. He didn't know how to ask Aragorn of his own feelings. It was like being thrown into a dance at a ball without knowing the steps.
"Much. She does not wish to leave him, but she has already made her choice. I shall remarry in a month or two and give him a mother again. I cannot leave him without a mother. And the Kingdom must have a Queen." Aragorn's voice was heavy with the sadness and hopelessness of losing the only one he had ever truly loved. His shoulders were sloped downward, unable to support the crushing weight of duty to his Kingdom and his son. He obviously felt that his emotions were a hindrance to his Kingship.
"So soon?" the elf said, leaning closer to Aragorn. "Surely there is time to wait? Recover?" The Man met his eyes briefly, and Legolas could see that he had already made his decision.
"My Kingdom and my son and infinitely more important that what I might feel, Legolas. I must do what is best for my people, not myself." Legolas nodded in response. The self-sacrifice his friend was committing was heart-breaking, but the blonde couldn't see any way out of it. Although he knew it was wrong, he began to feel hope that he and Aragorn might return to being fast friends, just like they had been before. And suddenly he knew what to suggest to help the Man.
"Fancy a spot of archery?" he asked, and Aragorn's face lit up with that old competitive spirit Legolas had missed so much. Blue-grey eyes cleared, just a little.
"Certainly."

Cause I've got to keep the feeling, keep the feeling in
Gotta keep the feeling, keep the feeling in

As another of Legolas' arrows hit the target dead centre, he laughed triumphantly. All his arrows were clustered within a hair's breadth of each other, whereas Aragorn's were scattered around the inner circles of his. He was a brilliant archer, for a Man, but in comparison to an elf, his talent was severely undermined.
"Face it, Aragorn! You are useless against me!" Legolas called, dancing around with glee. Aragorn observed him for a long moment, before lowering his bow.
"Yes, but you know how I can beat you?" he asked, smiling widely, his eyes cunning. Legolas pondered for a brief moment, before seeing Aragorn's hand twitch a little toward his sword. Then he smiled.
"How so?" he said, feigning ignorance. Aragorn let out a quiet chuckle, before in one swift move drawing his sword and curling through the air to meet one of Legolas' white knives only a millimetre from the pale curve of the elf's neck.
"Melee." He said softly, looking Legolas right in the eyes. The blonde quickly searched for the sadness that had previously clouded the brilliant blue and found it much receded. A mischievous playfulness he could only remember from Aragorn's youth filled its place. The Man pulled away, readying himself a couple of paces away before launching into a devastating series of slashes, curves and chops that left Legolas barely defending himself.
"Perhaps you underestimate me." The elf challenged, and Aragorn raised an eyebrow at him. Then suddenly his was moving to his left and Legolas was shifting to meet him and it was a feint and Aragorn was heading for his right and then the Man's lithe muscle rammed into him, tackling him down to the floor.
Aragorn stood up even as Legolas blinked with shock, laying the point of his sword at the base of the elf's throat. Then he burst into a brilliant smile, followed by almost carefree laughter. He sheathed his sword and offered his hand to the prone elf, who grasped it. Hope fluttered fiercely in the elf's belly as their gazes locked. He hoped for so many things, but for now he was glad to have that friend he thought he had lost to another. Not that Aragorn could know how much Legolas had missed his company. He must never know. The Man pulled him up and they readied for a spar once more but all Legolas could focus on was that loyal glint in Aragorn's eyes.

The elf smiled. Perhaps there was hope yet.

Hope you enjoyed reading my first fic!

Review? I'll give you a cookie if you do :)

Oh, and I owe a thank you to StarLight9 for pointing out a mistake which is now corrected. Thanks!