I know I'm like a decade late, but I've recently jumped aboard the Aralas train and needed to write my own fic! LOL This story is actually a combination of my idea for a novel I'm working on and wanted to test-run in fic form and from the very short sequel J.R.R. Tolkein started for Lord of the Rings titled, you guessed it, A New Shadow! And as such, I do not own these characters, he does. (Except for my original charcters obviously!) I hope you enjoy! Please read and review! I need to know if I should bother continuing it!

As the morning light began to stream through the curtains in the Royal Bedchamber, the King of Gondor and Anor did little to suppress his groan. His troubled mind wanted nothing more than a few extra hours of rest, especially after the eventful week he had just had. Seven years had passed since he was crowned and he was pleased to discover that despite his initial reluctance, ruling came natural to him. Of course it has never been easy; being responsible for an entire kingdom and its people is no small burden, but it is one he has managed to bear wisely, justly, and compassionately so far. By defeating Sauron and claiming his right to the throne, he was able to bring a long-awaited peace to the land….or so he thought. As of late, for reasons he knew not, that peace was being disturbed. In the past month alone, more robberies, altercations, and even murders have taken place in Gondor than at any other point in his reign. The cells were currently filled with criminals still awaiting his judgment, more guards had been placed within the streets and the King's House, all the while Aragorn, his Consort and his Council are trying to come up with a means for restoring order. As can be imagined, sleep has been eluding him on most nights. If not for his husband, he probably wouldn't be getting any sleep at all.

Speaking of which, Aragorn was disappointed by the absence of another body against his own. The King of Men raised his arms in a stretch before turning on his side to look at his Consort. The elf lay on the far opposite side of the large bed, his pale back facing the man and long silky hair strewn about his pillow in wonderful disarray. Aragorn stared at the steady rise and fall of his husband's ribs, indicating that the blond was still lost in sleep. It had been odd at first, watching the elf sleep. Elves don't need to sleep like humans do; but then again, Legolas was not the typical elf. He chose a mortal life in order to be with Aragorn - a choice the man did not wish for him to make but he did so nonetheless- and as such, he now required sleep. During the quest, the elf hardly ever rested. On a few occasions, Aragorn watched as he had slipped into reverie, his eyes glazing over as he took the time to restore the strength in his body and mind. For someone who was not familiar with the ways of the elves, it would've been a strange sight indeed. However, the sight had the opposite effect on Aragorn - it comforted him. Seeing his love at peace had offered him his own peace, especially during the times of turmoil and uncertainty that they had faced during the War of the Ring. But now, since giving up his immortality, the elf slept every night next to his husband. The fatigue had troubled him at first because it was a sensation he had rarely experienced in his long life. He tried fighting it until Aragorn convinced him that it was to be expected, and when he finally closed his eyes, it was Aragorn who became unsettled. Seeing his eyes closed in sleep only reminded him that one day, they would be closed in death.

The thought of losing Legolas brought Aragorn back to the present, and slowly, he scooted his way to the middle of the bed before reaching out to wrap his arms around his husband's waist, one hand gliding up to a smooth chest, and pulling him close. Legolas hummed at the movement and placed a hand on top of Aragorn's, but didn't open his eyes. When the elf's back was pressed firmly up against the man's chest, Aragorn gave him a quick squeeze and nuzzled the hair at his neck.

"Good morning, meleth," the king whispered into a pointed ear, sending a shiver down the blonde's side.

Legolas let out a quiet yawn before turning in the man's arms so that he could face him. When blue eyes met grey, both smiled warmly and the elf lifted his head to give his husband a chaste kiss on the mouth.

"Good morning to you too, herven," Legolas said as he wiped the sleep from his eyes.

Aragorn placed a light kiss on the elf's forehead while gently stroking the smooth planes of his back. Legolas gave a contented sigh and then returned the embrace, closing his eyes once more and laying his head on his husband's broad chest.

"Let us stay like this for the rest of the day," the man suggested, feeling the elf smile in response.

"You know we cannot," Legolas chided, "or else we'll have a very disappointed son on our hands."

At the mention of their son, Aragorn moved his hand from the elf's back down to his stomach and traced the thin scar from which their child had been brought into this world. Aragorn remembered that day all too well. Their son had been a blessing from the Valar; a precious gift given in gratitude for saving the free peoples of middle earth. After the initial shock of the pregnancy, came the joy, then after the joy, came fear. As Legolas's belly begun to swell, it suddenly hit Aragorn that the child would have to be cut out of his husband's body. He was afraid Legolas would not survive the surgery, or worse - that he'd have to choose between his spouse and his child. It seems loosing Legolas has always been his greatest fear. Luckily, his fears did not come to pass. Legolas was surrounded by capable elven healers, as well as the healing hands of his king, and made a quick recovery. Once he was assured his husband was well and alive, the joy that had left the man was returned. Their son, Eldarion, was their greatest source of pride and happiness. He was an exceedingly curious boy; his wide blue eyes always filled with wonder. He possessed a kindness more strong and pure than anyone Aragorn had ever known. At times, he exerted a wisdom that far surpassed his youth, spouting off phrases or advice that left his elders stunned. But best of all, he was affectionate. Not a day went by without him telling his parents he loved them and showering them with hugs and kisses. Neither of them could imagine a life without their precious five year old in it. He was well worth, or perhaps even more so, all the late nights, spit-ups and soiled cloths they had to endure. That was why Aragorn had decided earlier in the week to indulge the boy.

For his safety, his parents never allowed him outside the city walls, but the elf in him had been longing to explore the lands beyond the city. With some convincing from Legolas, Aragorn decided the three of them would take a short camping trip in the nearby forests of South Ithilien. They would be traveling alone, as a family, despite the protests of their guards and Council. Aragorn trusted in his own abilities, as well as his husband's, to protect themselves should the need arise. After all, they had fought in and survived the greatest war Middle Earth had ever witnessed. In his place, Faramir, his most trusted friend, steward and advisor, would be in charge. All plans were in order, provisions mostly packed, and the trio was set to leave…today.

"I had almost forgotten," the king grumbled, resting his forehead against the elf's.

Hearing the hint of complaint in his husband's voice, Legolas drew his head back to give the man a stern look.

"Don't be that way," he warned, "You promised him. Besides, this will prove to be a nice reprieve that the both of us are very much in need of."

"Amin hiraetha," Aragorn sighed, "I'm afraid I've grown too accustomed to soft beds. I won't deny I dread the thought of sleeping on a cold, hard ground again."

Legolas laughed at the declaration, the sound of it bringing a smile to the king's face as well.

"Becoming spoiled, are we, Ranger?" the elf teased.

"No more than you, elf!" the man quipped, once again capturing his husband in a tight embrace and bringing their lips together.

"Ada! Papa!"

The couple separated at the sound of their son's voice and then turned to watch the unruly mass of brown curls that struggled to climb up the sheets. They both chuckled when the boy made it on the bed, falling face-forward with his little hands clenched tightly in the sheets. When he righted himself, his cheeks were rosy from the effort and he flashed his parents a toothy grin before clambering over to join the pair. The small boy jumped into the space between the two and wrapped his tiny arms around the neck of his elven father, giggling all the while.

"Careful, ion-nin," Legolas chided as he cradled Eldarion to his chest.

When Legolas let go, the boy then flung himself around Aragorn's neck, causing the man to let out a surprised "Ooof!"

"Eldarion," Aragorn began, "What did your Ada just tell you?"

The boy pulled away, having the decency to look slightly guilty.

"Sorry, Ada. Sorry, Papa," he apologized, "I'm just really happy to see you!"

The elf shook his head fondly.

"Sweet boy, you see us every day."

"I know! But today's a special day!" he exclaimed as he looked at his parents expectantly.

There was a twinkle in Aragorn's eyes as he turned to his husband.

"What could he possibly be speaking of, Legolas?" he asked.

"Hhmm," Legolas goaded, "I'm not sure, meleth. It's certainly not his birthday. I distinctly remember that was three months ago."

When the pair pretended to be looking thoughtful, Eldarion started to giggle.

"No, silly! We're going camping!"

"Oh?" Aragorn teased, "Who said?"

"You said, Papa!" the boy replied, plopping down into the man's lap and poking him in the chest.

"Ah, yes," said the king while ruffling his son's hair affectionately, "Now I remember!"

"Well," began Legolas as he stepped out of bed, "If that's the case, then we had best be getting ready! Come, ion. Let's get you dressed."

Aragorn smiled as the child scampered across the bed and lept into his husband's outstretched arms. He watched as the pair made their way into the adjoining room in which their son stayed, the boy chattering excitedly while the elf murmured his agreements. Reluctantly, the king, too, got up. He sifted through the garments in his wardrobe, pulling out a simple tunic and trousers before grabbing his traveling cloak. He ran his fingers over the elven broach that he had kept all these years. He recalled all the dangers and trials he had faced the last time he had worn it. As he heard his husband and son laughing in the next room, he hoped he wouldn't have to face such things again.

Moric hastened to the tavern on the lower streets of Gondor, his cloak billowing behind him as he ran. When he arrived, he nodded to the guards that had recently been posted outside and made his way in. He scanned the room; as expected, there were not a lot of patrons this early in the day. Needless to say, he quickly found who he was looking for.

"Where is she?" he asked the red-haired man leaning against the wall.

"Down there," he jerked his head towards the small hallway just passed the bar, "Last on the left."

Moric brushed passed the man and stopped in front of the specified room before giving the door three light knocks.

"You may enter," called a soft voice from within.

Stepping through the threshold, he noticed Hadria standing in the center of the room, gazing intently out of the window.

"You called for me, my lady?" he asked as he approached her from behind.

"I did," she answered, turning to face him, "I have had another vision."

His eyes widened at the admission.

"What have you seen?" he questioned eagerly.

She closed her eyes, replaying the images in her mind. Fire. Death. Darkness. Hope.

"He is not gone," she revealed, "A part of him still lingers. A new shadow is emerging, buying its time before covering the world with its darkness. If we are to act, we must do so very soon. Before they do."

When she opened her eyes, she found Moric was watching her solemnly. He let out a sigh before nodding, determination sweeping over his features.

"What do we need?"

She turned her gaze back towards the window, eying the forests beyond.

"The boy."

"Slow down, son," scolded Aragorn, "You're making a mess! I promise you, the forests aren't going anywhere."

"Leave him be, Aragorn," retorted Legolas as he wiped the jam off of his son's face, "He's excited is all. Besides," he continued, gathering some jam on his finger and smearing it on his husband's nose, "a little jam never hurt anyone."

The king glared halfheartedly at his laughing spouse and son while wiping the mess off of his own face.

"Ganging up on me, are we?" Aragorn accused, scooping a blob of jam into his own hand and aiming it at the elf, "Well, we'll just see about that…"

Legolas's eyes widened in realization, "Don't - "

"Your Majesty?"

The family froze as Faramir strode into the dining hall, eyebrows raised in amusement as he took in the scene of his king holding a handful of jam in the air.

Aragorn cleared his throat while Legolas smirked in triumph.

"Faramir," greeted the man, grabbing the nearest cloth and wiping his hand clean, "What can I do for you?"

Faramir approached the table at which the trio was seated and bowed his head.

"I just came to inform you that your weapons have been retrieved from the armory as requested and your packs have been prepared. They'll be in your rooms whenever you are ready."

"Thank you, Faramir," said Aragorn, "We'll be leaving as soon as we are finished here."

"Very well. Would you like me to gather you an escort to the gates of the city?"

"No. The fewer people who know of our absence, the better."

"A wise decision," agreed the steward, "I bid you all a safe trip. I assure you everything in Minas Tirith will stay in order while you are away."

"Thank you, Faramir," said Legolas.

With a final nod, Faramir began walking back the way he had come until he was forced to a halt by something wrapping around his legs. He looked down to see Eldarion staring up at him, his little arms wrapped firmly around the man's calves.

"I'll miss you, Faramir," confessed the boy.

The steward smiled at the child he had grown so fond of and patted the top of his head.

"I'll miss you too, little prince. Have fun. And look after those two," he said, jerking his head in the direction of the man and elf.

"I will!" giggled the boy before releasing the man and running back to his seat.

Faramir shared a knowing smile with the royal couple before exiting the hall and heading for the council room.

As the royal family made their way back inside their rooms, they were pleased to see their packs waiting for them on the bed as promised. They had decided not to bring too much, only the essentials - bedrolls, a spare set of clothing, small cooking utensils, flint, some food, and of course, their weapons. Once everything was strapped in place, they headed towards the door before Eldarion stopped them.

"I almost forgot!"

The boy ran into his rooms, emerging a few minutes later with the wooden dagger he had received for his birthday, tucking the object safely in his belt. Pleased with himself, he returned to his spot between his fathers and grabbed each of their hands.

"Okay, I'm ready now!

"Then let's be off!" said Legolas, leading the trio out of the door.

The walk out to the citadel took longer than they had expected. Eldarion insisted that he couldn't leave without telling his nursemaid, Tilly, goodbye. Afterwards, the boy felt the need to bid farewell to every servant they came across. Patient as ever, Aragorn and Legolas watched the exchanges fondly, allotting the boy however much time he needed. When at last they reached the citadel they were approached by Ronan, Captain of the Guard.

"Your Majesties, young prince," he greeted, "Lord Faramir informed me that you had no desire for an escort to the gates. Nonetheless, I've ordered the guards that are stationed there to send word once you've reached it. It would put my mind at ease knowing you have made it through the city safely."

The king grimaced at that last statement. Not that he wasn't grateful for the concern, but the fact that his safety and that of his family's was not guaranteed within his own city unsettled him a bit.

"You have our thanks, Ronan," Aragorn replied, clapping the other man on the shoulder.

Maneuvering through the city was surprisingly easy. As well as being necessary for their trips, the cloaks were also intended to be a disguise. And while being out of royal garb did help to detract attention, they didn't go completely unnoticed. After all, the number of man-elf pairings with a child was nonexistent within the city aside from the royal family. Whenever they were recognized, the pair would nod and smile graciously and continue on their way.

As he was with most things, Eldarion was completely fascinated by the city. His mouth was agape as he took in the new sights. If he was like this now, Legolas couldn't wait to see his reaction to the wilds. However, as they made their way down to the lower levels, the streets became less and less busy. Several businesses appeared to be closed, there were quite a few homes that had boarded up their windows, and on the rare occasion that someone was out and about, they refused to make any eye contact. Legolas felt very uneasy as his eyes darted about scanning for any sign of the danger that he felt was near.

"Papa? Ada?" Eldarion asked, "Where is everybody?"

The man and elf locked gazes and Legolas could see that his husband was having concerns similar to his own.

"They're probably all in their homes, son. Perhaps they haven't a reason to be out today," Aragorn answered, his voice not conveying his fears for the sake of his child.

As they continued along, Legolas couldn't shake the feeling that they were being watched. He looked to either side, peering down the various streets before coming to the conclusion that he was just being paranoid. For reassurance, he turned to glance behind them and nearly gasped at what he saw. A large man with red hair and a grey cloak was standing in the middle of the street, sword drawn. When the elf spotted him, he smirked before turning and running down a nearby alley.

Legolas picked up his son, positioning the boy on his hip and moved closer to Aragorn. The man gave his husband a questioning look when he noticed fear in the other's eyes. He wrapped his arm around the elf's shoulders reassuringly.

"What is wrong?"

As Legolas made to answer, he was interrupted by a woman's cry,

"Thief! That man is a thief! Stop him!"

They turned in the direction of the voice to see an older woman pointing frantically at a figure that was fleeing in the distance.

Aragorn reached for his sword, fully intending to chase after the accused criminal but was stopped by a hand grabbing his wrist.

"The guards will handle it," Legolas stated.

Sure enough, as they faced back in the direction they were heading, a small group of four guards were hurrying towards them. The trio stepped off to the side to let the troop pass and stared after them. Eldarion, who had buried his face in the elf's neck at the commotion, raised his head up, eyes shining with uncertainty.

"Ada, what's happening? I want to get out of here," he whined.

Legolas couldn't agree more with his son's wishes. He, too, wanted to get out of these streets before the boy had to witness any more trouble or worse, be involved in it. The elf gently pressed Eldarion's head back down to his shoulder.

"It's nothing to worry about ion-nin," he assured, "Pretty soon we'll be under an open sky, chasing the wind and talking to the trees."

The boy gasped and lifted his head once more, "The trees can talk, Ada?"

"Oh yes," answered the elf, tapping his son on the nose, "If you know how to listen."

"What do they say?"

Aragorn felt relieved as his husband distracted their son with talk of trees. To be truthful, he welcomed the distraction as well. He hadn't realized the extent of the discontent within his very city. Tension hung in the air like a drop of dew on a blade of grass, growing heavier and heavier until it would eventually fall and burst into chaos. He began to question yet again whether or not he should really be leaving, even if only for a brief period of time. He didn't voice these concerns, though. He knew what Legolas would say; he had promised his son and he never breaks a promise. The more he thought about it, the more this trip seemed beneficial. He would have a chance to wind down, enjoy his family, and clear his thoughts so that he could return well-rested, mind restored and efficiently address the maladies so obviously plaguing his people.

By the time the family reached the Gate, they all felt a little more at ease and were anxious to leave the city behind them. However, when Aragorn noticed that only two guards were positioned at the gate, he once more grew worrisome. The entrance to the city was always more heavily guarded than this. Remembering the Captain's words, Aragorn approached a guard at the gate who bowed as he drew near.

"My Lord."

"Where are the rest of the guards?" demanded the king.

"A fight broke out at a tavern down the street so we sent some of our men to handle it," the guard replied, "Another troop is searching for a pair of robbers who broke into a family home this morning and made off with a young boy."

Aragorn ran a weary down his face at the news while Legolas hugged Eldarion all the tighter.

"Very well. Please report to your Captain and inform him that the princes and I have made it safely through the city," ordered the king.

"Right away, my Lord."

With another bow, the guard turned and began his trek up to the citadel. Motioning to Legolas to wait for a moment, Aragorn walked up to another guard who was surprised when the king grasped his shoulder and leaned in close.

"I want you to make note of anyone who leaves and enters the city during my absence. If we are not back in one week, assume the worst and send a scouting party. Am I understood?"

"Yes, Your Majesty," the guard straightened immediately, wanting to prove to his king that he would take his assignment seriously.

"Thank you. And as soon as the other troops return, tell them that I want no less than a dozen guards at the gate at all times."

With a meaningful look and a final pat on the shoulder, the man returned to his family, one of which was eying him curiously.

"What did you tell him?" asked Legolas.

"I was just taking some precautions," answered the man as he took his son from the elf's arms and placed him on his shoulders before walking through the gate of the city. Legolas looked after his husband, annoyed and confused at the vague answer he had received until he willed his legs to move and catch up with his family.

A few hours had passed since the royal family's departure from the city. Dyllon had informed his Captain of their safe parting, as instructed, before returning to his post at the gate. He sighed when he saw the rest of his fellow guards had not returned from their tasks. The only guard at the gate was Verrill who nodded at his arrival.

"The king wants there to be a dozen guards here while he is away. We need to inform Ronan when we change stations tonight."

"Indeed. Any disturbances since I left?"

"None. Though our brothers in arms seem to be having a trying time since they have failed to return."

"My thoughts exactly!" boomed a voice off to the side, the accent heavy.

The two guards turned to find large, cloaked man approaching them slowly. Arrogance exuded from his gait and he examined his nails nonchalantly. The guards straightened their posture and grasped the hilt of their swords as the stranger drew closer, hood still up.

"Reveal yourself and state your business," ordered Verrill.

The man huffed, "My business is my own. Why should I have to tell you?"

"It's the king's orders," Verrill replied, unsheathing his sword.

They could see the man smirk from under his hood before he drew back and spat at the guards' feet.

"That's what I think about King Elessar and his orders," hissed the man.

"Hold your tongue!" instructed Dyllon, now unsheathing his own weapon, "Or we'll be forced to arrest you for your treacherous words!

The man began to laugh, a low, guttural sound that caused his shoulders to shake.

"Who will apprehend me?" he jeered, "You two? No, no. It'll take more than that."

"Nonsense! You're outnumbered," exclaimed Verrill.

The man grinned and as if on cue, five more men stepped out of the shadows and onto the street. The two guards exchanged a troubled glance.

"I brought company!" announced the man, throwing his arms in the air, "You see, I expected a lot more guards with all the chaos happenin' recently. What sort a king leaves his gates poorly defended while he sneaks away like a thief in the night?"

"Silence!" shouted Dyllon, angered by the traitorous words seeping from the man's mouth.

The man laughed again, this time joined by his companions who had begun to spread out and form a circle around the pair of guards.

"I'm afraid, my dear fellows" began the man as he pulled out a sword of his own, "That it's you two who will soon find yourselves silent. Eternally."

The guards eyes' widened and they soon found themselves descended upon by the armed vagrants.

The struggle was brief, though not easy. The guards managed to dispose of two men before they were disarmed and forced to kneel. Their helmets were removed and knives placed to their throats as the cloaked man stood before them.

"You want to know my business?" he teased, crouching in front of the glaring guards, "I'm going to give
Gondor the king it deserves."

With an affirming glance at his companions, the knives were dragged across the guards' throats. He watched as blood bubbled out of the slits and panicked eyes lost their focus.

Standing up, the cloaked man addressed his cohorts.

"So it has begun. Let us leave before the others return."

With that, the men scurried through the gate and made for the wilds.

Translations: (correct me if I'm wrong)
Meleth - Love, Lover, My Love
Herven- husband
Amin hiraetha - I am sorry
Ada - daddy
ion-nin - son, my son