Disclaimer: Blah blah blah I own nothing. I give all my credit to Tolkien for creating the characters and Peter Jackson for making them look so good together.

A/N: When I said this was completed I meant that I have all the chapters written and revised, I'm just spreading out putting up chapters so that more people will read it. I hope you all enjoy the second chapter of my story! REVIEW!!

Chapter 2

All the times he touched me and my skin felt like fire…

Every time I met his eyes and my heart skipped a beat

Every time he held me and everything else disappeared…

All meant

All the pounding…

Legolas' thoughts swam around his head without consistency or meaning. A river of moments in time flashed before his eyes. Every thought, every memory amounted to something, but he was desperately trying to avoid the solution. His thoughts continued to swim in circles as he drew his bath. The heat and the steam cleared his head, made it impossible to think of anything but the arms, eyes, hair, and entire being that was Aragorn, son of Arathorn; his Estel. Legolas' hope.

Lounging in bed, idly brushing his long damp hair, Legolas let his mind find the end to this complicated equation.

I love him.

This thought alone did not surprise the elf. Legolas had known Aragorn for many years and had been his dearest companion for nearly as long. The two had an easygoing companionship from the time they first met. They related to each other effortlessly, despite their obvious difference in age. Legolas never felt like he was with someone thousands of years younger than him. The man had wisdom far beyond his years from the moment they met, and Legolas had always viewed the conflicted ranger as his equal in intelligence, physical skill, and general views on life and the world.

What surprised him was the jealousy he felt when he saw the man's hands laced with Arwen's, his steel blue eyes focused only on her. He had been around long enough to know, to understand what he was feeling. Only younglings would be foolish enough to run from signs as obvious as these.

Legolas did not simply love the man; he was in love with him. He missed the warm embrace of the man, even though he had just held him several hours before. He longed to brush his fingertips over Aragorn's rough jawline, his taut arms, his bare chest. He longed to feel skin against skin, hand against hand, tongue against tongue.

Suddenly all these thoughts that were allowing him to come to terms screeched to a halt when a piece of knowledge entered his mind, making his hand stop it's brushing and his breath hitch in his chest.

Arwen knows

Her questioning eyes had been the thing that alerted him to the unspoken questions in his own mind, and he had no idea what to do. Should he tell Aragorn his feelings and risk everything? Should he try to ignore the feelings and pretend that this was not happening? Should he run from this, from Rivendell, from Estel, Arwen, and everything that had brought him to this conclusion?

While Legolas thought, he paced. Soon though, his pacing feet carried him away down the hall, up the steps, to the room that sat just above his, but was just as familiar to him as his quarters in Mirkwood. He stopped outside the door, hesitating. Legolas recovered himself enough to chuckle at his foolishness of being nervous about seeing his dearest friend. He laughed about being scared of something as small as letting Estel know his thoughts when he had faced orcs and spiders in Mirkwood countless times. He smirked about the fact that thousands of years had brought him to this exact moment, hopelessly in love with a mortal. He knew in this moment that all those years before meant nothing, and that nothing from this moment on would be quite the same.

He knocked on the closed door of the ranger's room, unsure of what he himself was even doing. The reply from within was a terse, "Busy!"

"Estel, it is only I."

"Legolas?" The door opened and all thoughts of laughter left the Princeling's mind. Aragorn had come to the door wearing only a dark red towel around his waist, the rest of his body bare and his hair damp. His upper body was extremely muscular and toned, hardened from years of battling the evils of a darkening world. A light dusting of dark hair covered the top of the chest, funneling into a concentrated path of curls that fell from his navel to below the line of the wet towel.

Legolas took this in with only a fleeting glance, and lost himself. He started to confess his new found feelings.

"Estel, I wanted to—"

But Legolas looked up then, met his friend's eyes, and remembered himself. The pure brotherly love and loyalty that shone from Aragorn's eyes discouraged the elf and made him remember that he was only just coming to terms with his affection for the man, and would not make Aragorn choose if he was not absolutely sure that this was what he wanted.

"I wanted to accompany you to dinner." Legolas said, recovering flawlessly from his rushed beginning of speech. He turned his eyes away, however, hiding the lie from the keen steel eyes of the human.

"Well you can clearly see that I am not quite ready, but you are welcome to wait in my chambers while I dress and finish cleaning myself up." Aragorn replied, drawing the elf into the room and closing the door behind him ere he could protest. Legolas walked over to sit on the bed and watched as Aragorn moved across the room to remove a few articles of clothing from his wardrobe.

"Should I wear the blue tunic or the gray one?" Aragorn asked, the question aimed more at himself than Legolas. Legolas, however, let out an uncontrolled snort of laughter.

"You know you sound like some kind of maiden. We are only going to our nightly dinner; there is no cause to look special."

Aragorn sighed and turned to the elf, holding the two shirts in front of him. "What is your opinion, mellon?"

Legolas met the man's eyes and chose his words and tone carefully. "I believe that the blue one brings out the blue in your eyes, if you truly care," He said, controlling his facial expressions tightly. Aragorn looked up and met his eyes.

"I didn't know I had blue in my eyes. They are gray, are they not?"

"Well anyone who spends as much time with you as I do may clearly see that they are actually a shade of blue," said Legolas. Aragorn furrowed his brow and Legolas looked away sharply.

"What is wrong, dearest Legolas? Your own blue eyes are troubled."

"It is nothing for you to worry about, Estel. Don't you have to dress your pretty self?"

"You wound me. I thought you could tell me anything." Aragorn's furrowed brow deepened.

"Now is not the time."

"You have never once failed to tell me when something is troubling you, almost from the moment we met, my dear friend." Aragorn almost pleaded, placing the tunics back in the wardrobe for a moment.

"Well maybe I would like to keep something to myself for once," Legolas said quietly, eyes on the floor. He glanced up and flinched at the raw hurt in Aragorn's eyes. "I believe I should leave now, shouldn't I?" he asked without an apology in his voice.

Aragorn turned smartly on his heel and walked into the bathing rooms that were linked to his chambers, pausing only to take the two tunics with him. Legolas tried to control his emotions as he sulked over to Estel's balcony. He stood and looked out at the forest. A breeze picked up just then, and the forest swayed, its rich autumn colors moving and blending to look like a vivid wall of flames. A branch from the tree that Aragorn had scaled just a few short hours ago brushed Legolas' face, comforting him. Legolas looked to the ground below as he leaned on the stone railing surrounding the terrace.

He was met with the steady gaze of lady Arwen looking up from below. She had changed since last he saw her, and was now dressed in a simple silver dress that made her beautiful skin seem to shine all the brighter. Her eyes held his for only a moment, an unreadable expression in her eyes, before she turned and walked through the archway to the dining hall and disappeared from view.

"You're still here," a voice stated simply behind him. Legolas swung gracefully over the railing and landed lightly on his own terrace, turning to finish readying himself without a look behind him.

"Legolas, wait!" Aragorn called. Legolas turned his head up, putting his best mask on to show no emotion as he met those hesitant gray eyes. His heart pounded.

Aragorn stood almost meekly in the blue tunic, his eyes seeking the approval of the elf.

"I see I still know what's best for you." Legolas said. He willed himself not to smile and to force the illusion of irritation and anger. He forced himself to remember to breathe evenly. Aragorn smiled slightly despite the situation and turned back into his chambers and out of view.

"Ithil would be jealous of your beauty," Legolas whispered to the empty air above him. He turned back once again to get ready for what promised to be an interesting and nerve wracking dinner.