Disclaimer: Everything herein belongs to Tolkien. I'm merely playing my own little game in his sandbox. Slight spoilers, and it takes place after the War of the Ring, though not outside the Return of the King (I don't think, anyway).
Free
After the war, still there was no time for rest, no time to relax. Only the pressures of royalty and leadership weighing down, pressing, suffocating.
He was startled to find a group of elves in his courtyard one morning as he descended from his chambers. His wife stood among them, a single dark head amid shades of blonde, wearing her dressing gown, her stomach curving out ever so slightly with child.
He recognized none of the elves, until his queen moved aside, revealing a familiar face. The Prince of Mirkwood moved toward him before enfolding him in a warm embrace.
"It has been long," he said, his voice bringing forth memories.
"It has," Aragorn, King of Men, said in the elf's own tongue.
"You look well," Legolas said, stepping back from the king.
"I am well. For the most part," Aragorn said. "Though seeing you does make me with that I were once again free to roam as I once did."
"Ah," Legolas said. "There is nothing worse for the spirit than responsibility. Though, with this festival about to come under way, I should think you would have a bit more joy in your face."
"Festival?" Aragorn asked, confusion crossing his face.
"Oh my. I was not aware that it was a surprise for you," Legolas said, reaching a hand up to flip a slender braid back behind his shoulder. "Your lady requested that we attend a festival to celebrate the anniversary of the destruction of the Ring. The anniversary of our freedom."
"Mm," Aragorn said. "Let her be unknowing of your mistake. I'll act surprised when the time comes."
Legolas was relieved to see the Man smile. "I notice that she is with child."
"That she is. That simple fact warms my heart on the coldest of nights," Aragorn said.
A slender female Elf waved a hand at the Prince, and he turned to Aragorn.
"I have things that I must see to," he said. "Remember that you know nothing."
Aragorn attempted to shake the memories from his head as he turned, only to come face to face with a group of Rohirrim, led by their king into the courtyard, as well as the Lord of Ithilien and his Lady.
He retreated into the hall, away from his Queen's guests.
/ Before /
"We are in sore need of entertainment," Legolas announced, standing in only his under-tunic and leggings in the hot sunlight, short days before the coronation of the King of Gondor and the arrival of the Evenstar.
Aragorn lay upon the ground, his pipe trailing from his lips, smoke spiraling into the sky, his head resting upon his hands. "One should think all you would want to do is rest after the trials of your life," the Man said, unmoving.
The elf moved to stand over the king of Men. He looked down, blond hair spreading out around his face. "Aragorn, I am 3000 years old. Even after a war I am entitled to boredom," Legolas stated.
The White Lady of Rohan laughed as she entered the clearing. "You look not your age." She told the elf. He turned to flash the Lady a smile.
"I rather think I'd be a fright if I aged as Men do. You look well, gracious Lady," he said.
"You need not be so formal," Eowyn told him. "I simply came to see the King before his coronation, before I depart for Ithilien."
"Forgive me, Lady Eowyn, I had forgotten that you would be departing," Aragorn said, sitting and emptying his pipe.
"It injures my heart to think that you would forget me," she said, the weight of the words shadowing the clearing. Legolas' eyes widened.
Aragorn stood. "I would be incapable of forgetting you, no matter the years that passed." Legolas watched as the two humans stared at each other. The shadow Eowyn's words had brought to the light of the clearing changed to storm clouds overhead. He understood what lay between them, so similar to what lay between himself and the Man.
"We should all be so lucky to have known and know each other," Legolas said softly, the Man and Lady turning to him in the gray light.
A silence fell where only the soft sound of the wind through the trees and the distant rippling of the stream filled the clearing.
Legolas then reached out and took their hands into his. "Be carefree now, before the duties of your lives once again entrap you," he said.
The Lady nodded. Aragorn moved to lay back upon the grass once again, but Legolas grabbed his arm.
Aragorn looked at him.
"Run with me, this last time. Race with me toward the water, and just exist. Be part of the forest around us," Legolas said.
"Do the elves do this often?" Eowyn asked.
"Perhaps," Legolas said, removing his clothing, piling it neatly. The Lady averted her eyes, properly modest.
"Must you be nude?" she asked, a curtain of blonde waves falling forward to hide the blush that lit her cheeks.
"Why not?" the elf asked, removing the ties from his hair and shaking the plaits to fall around his face.
"It seems sort of… uncouth." Eowyn said, unable to truly find a word.
"Surely you, of all women, my Lady, are not afraid of bare skin, having fought in battles and faced the Dark Riders." Aragorn said, stripping off his clothing. Eowyn made a soft sound and turned her back to both of them. Aragorn piled his clothing in the hollow of the tree. "I smell the rain," he said.
"As do I," Legolas said, waiting for the Lady, comfortable with his nudity.
"Very well!" Eowyn cried suddenly. "But I shall require assistance in removing my garments."
"I will gladly help, if my Lady wishes it," Legolas said.
The Elf and the Man assisted the Lady with her clothing, sliding her dress into the hollow tree with the rest of their clothing as the first drops of rain began to splatter down.
"Run," Legolas said, and rushed into the trees, his blond hair streaming behind him like a banner as the humans chased after him.
Aragorn watched the Lady run with the same grace that bore Legolas down a certain path, his steps sure. Their skin, both Lady and Elf, was the color of ivory, drops of water running down, so different from his own deeply tanned skin.
They rushed forward, through the trees, down the banks of the river and into the icy rush of water. Aragorn stopped before he ran into the river and watched Eowyn and Legolas splash about in the water, shrieking.
"Join us, my Lord," Eowyn cried.
"Aragorn!"
/ / /
"Aragorn!"
The King of Gondor looked up, startled, to see his Queen standing before him, her dark hair braided and wound about her head like a crown, a style that befitted the one who was said to be the most beautiful of her people, and his love.
"Yes?" Aragorn asked.
"I have been standing here for far too long," Arwen said, her voice holding a note of annoyance as she stared at him. "Your guests await your company."
"I will be down momentarily." He told her, blinking his eyes rapidly, trying to chase away the memory of ivory skin and river water.
"That is as well, since they threaten to come up after you," she told him. "Where is it that you go when your eyes lose their focus, love?"
"Simply into dreams," Aragorn said.
"Of me, I should hope," Arwen said.
"Of course. They are always the most lovely."
She smiled and left him to dress for the dinner.
/ Before /
Eowyn slept peacefully beneath the branches of a tree, a stray flower drifting to rest in her long, damp hair. Legolas sat not far away, body still bare, watching the trees and singing softly in elvish.
Aragorn touched his shoulder suddenly. "I have often wondered…" he said, but said no more. His fingers traced down the cool, bare skin as the Elf's voice trailed away to nothing.
"Of what?" he asked.
The man's lips met his in a flash of fire, before the Man pulled away.
"I cannot," he said, standing to move away. Legolas followed in one fluid motion, grabbing Aragorn's arm.
"You are King. You are free to do as you wish." Legolas said. "If that wish is that your body may lie next to mine, if only once, then I will grant it, and gladly."
Aragorn stared into the Elf's eyes, before pressing his lips once again to Legolas'. The Man and the Elf remained locked in a heated embrace before tumbling to the damp earth, leaves and dirt clinging to nude bodies as they moved.
"By all means, pretend that I do not exist," the Lady said.
Legolas raised his head, spent and startled.
"My apologies, Lady," he said.
"As well you should apologize," she said. Leaves stuck to her skin where she had lain on the ground.
"Perhaps next time you should merely insinuate yourself into our pleasures," the Elf said, his eyes on her face. A blush began to creep slowly up her neck and across her cheeks.
"I fear that it is not the same for a woman. I also fear that we must dress and return to the city before they send patrols to search for us, as the hour grows late, by the descent of the sun," she said.
"Of course. I shall help you dress," Legolas said. Aragorn remained on the ground beneath the tree, his mind whirling with the freedom that the Lady had, and that which the Elf had brought from them both.
/ / /
"You have kept us waiting," the Lady of Ithilien said, rising from her seat as Aragorn entered.
"My apologies, Lady," Aragorn said, echoing the words of so long ago. He thought that the Lady would not notice, would never remember such words spoken after such forgotten passion.
Her eyes widened. "As well you should apologize," she told him, her voice soft. "My Lord, may I speak to you privately for a short moment?" she asked. "I will make it very short."
"I could never deny you, Lady," he said. And yes, that had many times been the truth. After the freedom of the afternoon that spring before, Aragorn had denied neither the Lady nor the Elf any desire they could ask of him.
They stepped out of the hall, into the hall.
"Seeing you brings forth many memories, ones that I now try to forget, Aragorn," Eowyn said, looking directly into his face. "Memories that remind me of things that I refuse to do any longer."
"I am sorry, my Lady." Aragorn said.
"I would take nothing back. But I fear the pain it would cause my husband to know of my indiscretions, and I would not have him know."
"I understand fully, Lady."
"Of course, for you know it would cause the Queen the same pain it would cause Lord Faramir to know that we have committed such crimes against their love."
"Of course, my Lady."
"End it here, Aragorn," she said and turned away, retreating into the hall. Few minutes later, the elven Prince entered the corridor.
"You keep your guests waiting," Legolas said, stepping close to Aragorn, until their bodies met in one long, perfect line. He looked into his lover's eyes, saw the way Aragorn looked away. "She has told you as well."
"Aye, she has," Aragorn said.
"Shall I leave as well? Do you request the same as our Lady?" Legolas asked.
"I could not tear myself away from you for anything in Middle-Earth." Aragorn said. "But she is right. It would destroy them to know. You have always been free, my Elvish Prince, where she and I have not."
"And now I am no longer free." Legolas said. "When summer comes to Mirkwood, I will be bound my Lady Ariavasiel."
Aragorn nodded. "Then, as our Lady said, end it here, before we break the hearts of those that we should love most."
"Of course," Legolas said. But he did not step away from Aragorn. "One final kiss, Aragorn, then I shall try to forget."
"Yes," Aragorn said.
Their lips met in one final, desperate kiss, before both tried to push away the memory of days spent in clearings, bare skin glistening in moonlight, and long, blond hair.