4. An Uncomfortable Misunderstanding

Once again, I would like to thank everyone for their reviews! You people are awesome! Enjoy!

It was bright and cheery in Elrond's fair city. The elves sang from the treetops songs of merriment accompanied with choruses of laughter, and the sun that beamed down from the leaves was more beautiful than all the gold in Erebor.

Legolas found all the extravagant glamor unsettling. It irritated him that the elves of Rivendell seemed comfortable with this excess of merriment when there was so much death in the world.

All the frivolity made him want to scream at the first native elf he came across. His home was not nearly as warm or jovial, nor did he believe it ever had the chance considering how close it was to the enemy.

Once a long time ago, Mirkwood was called Greenwood by all who passed its borders. It too was beautiful and verdant. It also may have had elves swinging from branches, singing bright songs at the tops of their melodic voices...

But, as was stated, that was a long time ago. Those stories passed into legend for all but the elves. The few mortals who believed the myth had wrongly accused the Elven King's greed of cursing the dense forest with its sickness. Thranduil was actually one of the few forces preventing the trees from dying.

At the state things were currently, Mirkwood was a dark place where decay and overgrowth ran rampant. When songs were sung, it was as a child's lullaby to sooth it to sleep during a long, harsh night filled with orc raids and spider hisses. Songs were sung when they mourned the dead, or the long forgotten. Songs were hardly ever sung out of happiness in his forest, for there was little to be happy about.

Just a few years ago, at the time of the fall of the dragon, Gandalf was able to banish the darkness from the forests of their home. It seemed a miracle at the time, but now they knew the truth. The evil was always waiting nearby, biding its time, watching for the best moment to pounce. Hardly any time had passed for the Elves of Mirkwood as they began to nurture their forest back to a natural state. Travelers still didn't dare to step within the foliage to reach the men or dwarves on the other side. They would have much rather braved the long walk around the weather-beaten, gnarled trees. Even the elves were uncertain of leaving their stronghold after so many years of battle and strife. They had become so use to danger that the peace was a foreign concept.

It was really for the best in the end. One mistake and the darkness would crash down around them worse than they had ever witnessed in the depths of their forests before.

Rivendell, however, was blessed with being far from most threats. By the time the elves of Legolas's forests whittled down the foes' numbers they would have to pass many other armies before winding up on Elrond's doorstep.

The elves that lived there seemed happy living in a realm of peace and prosperity. Most of them had escaped to his house as a retreat from the pain in the world. They knew it was selfish, and they knew another war was upon them, but they had been shaken and broken by the wars past. Elrond healed more than broken bodies, or at least he tried.

Legolas did not understand all the happiness, though. He did not want to understand it, especially after being threatened by the great healer himself. He did not know if he was terrified or angry. He wanted to lash out at the first thing he came across, mostly because of the embarrassment of it all. He knew that breaking something would do little to solve his problems. In fact, he was willing to bet it would only increase them.

He needed to take a walk. That was the only thing he could think of that wouldn't be destructive and could help him clear his racing mind. Shooting arrows was never something to do when the mind was clouded, as his teacher told him time and time again when he was an elfling. He would never harm someone as a person of his level of skill, but if he missed the bull's-eye he would only become more frustrated and irate with his predicament.

It only took him a little while to stumble upon where the gardens were kept, and thankfully for him the singing was gone. He wasn't sure if he had simply outrun it or if they had stopped, but he really didn't care. He was just glad for his moments reprieve. It was almost mocking in his opinion. Didn't they know there was a war going on beyond their borders?

He let his tense shoulders relax, leaning on a tree to breath in the sweet smell of sap it secreted when-

"Ah-Hahahaha!"

A chorus of laughter erupted from just beyond a hedge of rose bushes nearby. Legolas eyed it wearily; uncertain of what could lie just on the other side. For all he knew it could start the singing again.

"Oh, you should have seen the look on Elladan's face when I said that! It was priceless, Arie!"

From what Legolas could discern the first voice was distinctly female, and elvish if he was not mistaken. She definitely sounded pleasing enough to his ears to be an elf.

"Arwen... please stop making nicknames for me? It's embarrassing..."

The second one sounded like a... young human male? The voice was still relatively high, but also somewhat pleasing on the ears in an odd way. It was hard to pinpoint exactly, but Legolas was sure he knew it.

There was another bout of flirtatious chuckles that made Legolas want to gag, and he wasn't even watching. It most definitely belonged to the elven woman.

"You are so cute when you are embarrassed, though," she purred. "What will I do when you leave?"

There was an uncomfortable pause. Legolas suddenly felt like he was intruding on something that he really shouldn't have. These two seemed... close.

"You can continue embarrassing your twin brothers?" The lower voice continued just as Legolas made to turn away, catching his attention once more. He narrowed his eyes at the hedge uncertainly. He knew that voice, didn't he?

He heard a jostling of leaves on the other side of the division. "But you are a mortal!" She continued, confirming Legolas's previous suspicions. "What if you die? I could not bear to lose you... And," she chuckled slightly, "though I would hate to lose them, I do not care for my brothers the way I care for you..."

Legolas finally grew too curious for his own good and began circling around to the other side of the rosebush. The sight that met him was... well, it took all his years of self-control to maintain a visage of indifference when looking upon the two star-crossed 'lovers.'

The two, as Legolas had suspected, were mortal and elf, but with one minor problem. The second voice he overheard was Aragorn. Apparently she could fake a fairly decent man's voice so long as nobody looked at her closely, because the elf she was with seemed quite enamored with her boyish charm.

The other person confessing their undying (almost literary from an elf's view of the matter) love was the most beautiful elf Legolas had ever seen before. He could only guess that she was Elrond's daughter, which made the situation that much worse. They had used her name in the conversation, and he would be an idiot not to know the lord's daughter was named Arwen.

Arwen had her face contorted into a look of pure bliss as she wrapped her arms around Aragorn's midsection, squeezing his- or should he say her- back tightly to her breast and seemingly in no rush to let go. They were both sitting on a lovely stone bench in the middle of the most romantic garden setting. Any girl would have loved to be proposed to in such a secluded area, which Legolas had no doubt Arwen was trying to talk Aragorn into.

Aragorn looked as though she had been attempting to stand when Arwen lunged for the embrace, because her hands were awkwardly trapped by her side, white-knuckling the bench while her rear-end was hovering just above the carved stone. Her face was a laughable shade of white, and her eyes were wider than he'd even seen them before.

Despite all of Legolas's emotional control he was still left slightly flushed at the embarrassing scene that seemed to be unfolding before him. He quickly covered his face with one hand to hide his amusement, crossing the other arm over his chest in support. He continued to look at the two women in twisted delight.

Almost instantly Aragorn's eyes found him, begging him for help that she was fairly certain he would not give.

"Aragorn, I-" Arwen started. Both Aragorn and Legolas cringed, knowing the words to follow would undoubtedly be love you.

"There you are!" Legolas interrupted for the sakes of both Arwen, whose eyes opened immediately and looked rather bashful at being found, and Aragorn, who heaved a light sigh of relief.

"Elrond sent me to find you, Aragorn! Out in the gardens," Legolas pretended to chide," Wooing beautiful maids, no less!" At this Aragorn shot him a nasty, red-faced glare. The flaxen-haired elf just laughed it off. "I should have known."

Legolas was surprised that Elrond had not told his own children of Aragorn's secret, but it was none of his business. It was also not his fault that Arwen was falling madly in love with a being that was neither her race, nor her gender and she hadn't a clue. It was Elrond's deception, so Elrond would answer for this one.

The thought made Legolas laugh slightly to himself as he watched the slightly put-out elleth retreat from the gardens, trying to maintain all dignity and grace while nursing her wounded pride at being stumbled upon in her private garden. She had to march past him to do so, though.

He had no doubt the beauty would make Elrond pay for her embarrassment once she learned of Aragorn's true nature. Hopefully, if things were explained to her at length she would not blame Aragorn. She seemed old enough not to cast judgment until she knew everything. Love seemed a different matter, though.

Once Legolas was certain they were alone he turned back to the girl in men's clothing. "You seem quite the hot commodity in Imladris. Why, if I had one as beautiful as she clamoring for my attention in my home I would not hesitate!" The elf chortled, stepping further into the small clearing.

Aragorn finally found her voice, snapping her head up at the elf who seemed to prowl like a mountain cat as he approached her, a malevolent glint lighting in his eyes. "She is my friend!" her voice hissed like the soft ocean waves, seemingly drawing Legolas closer without his knowing. "Do not talk about her in such a foul manner!"

"Just friends, hm?" Legolas slowly eased himself on the bench as far away from Aragorn as he could, as not to threaten her comfort levels anymore than Arwen already had. He made sure to maintain eye contact the entire time, as though they were playing for some sort of nonverbal dominance. As an elf, he could do this till she fatigued, but he decided to let her have this small victory as he looked away to observe a wilting flower on the bush and pluck it. "Does she know you are only friends?"

He turned to look back just in time to witness a panicked look cross Aragorn's features. "Thought not," he said breezily.

"How dare you!" Aragorn howled, jumping to her feet in a fit of sudden rage. "You come here, insult me, assault me, and now you insult my friends!" Her eyes darkened. "As though my life weren't hard enough before, you also found a way to insult Elrond to the point that he has stuck you in the same boat as me!" She leaned over the elf, invading his personal space while he didn't even bother to look at her during her entire attempt at scolding. While she towered over his still seated form, knees almost touching, he did little more than smile at her agitation. He was content marveling over the dead rose with a smirk that grew with each escalation of her fury.

"Just because I have to follow you till you die or take the throne does not mean I am in the same boat as you." His smile widened until each perfect tooth shone bright in his amusement. "I will not be forced to wear a dress while you wear breaches."

"I honestly never want to see your ugly face again." She growled through gritted teeth as she took labored breaths to calm herself. She spun around so he was at least out oh her line of vision while she calmed herself for a moment, but that moment never came.

"Lie." Legolas chirped, tossing the rose to the side and nearly running into Aragorn as he stood, considering she towered over his seated for just moments prior. His torso was centimeters from her back. Obviously, he was exactly where he wanted to be, while Aragorn was just too stubborn to move. After all, she was there first!

She tensed, remembering what had happened last time the elf was out of her line of vision. So help her, if he did it again she would tell Elrond. She closed her eyes, breath suddenly becoming shaky and uneven. "What? What are you saying-" She jumped forwards like she had been burned, spinning to glower at him when his hand brushed her shoulder.

He chuckled at her reaction, hand still raised to where he had been reaching for her. He rose an eyebrow curiously. "Skittish?"

"Don't touch me. Last time you touched me I regretted it." She mumbled, recalling the cruel words he spouted to Elrond. She didn't care in what manner he had been planning to touch her in, but she had no intentions of being toyed with.

Legolas sighed over-dramatically, taking a step forwards and placing the back of his hand to his forehead in mock distress. "What ever shall I do if I am not able to caress my sweet, mortal King and let him know all is well in the world! Why, I might just Fade to nothing!"

Aragorn swiftly kicked the elf in the shin and was obnoxiously unsatisfied when he didn't even seem jolted. "Why did you say I was lying?" She ground out, getting back to her original question at hand.

Legolas's smile blossomed. "Well, that's obvious, isn't it? You called me ugly and you said you never wanted to see me again. The first part of your exclamation is obviously false. I am an elf. Our kind doesn't come in 'ugly.'" Legolas shrugged. "If you ever did see my face again you would not be seeing my 'ugly face,' seeing as how I do not have anything ugly to present to you, being an elf." He stated everything so simply, like it was a fact that Aragorn simply must have overlooked. The worst part was, he was obnoxiously right. Elves were nearly flawless, and he seemed to enjoy flaunting that fact a little too much.

Slack-jawed, Aragorn just looked at the elf in utter befuddlement and awe at his narcissistic attitude. "You twist my words too much. I do not want to see you again until the meeting tomorrow, when our fates are decided." She turned to stride out of the garden. "And while your face may be fairer than most, it is only to balance that rancid, disgustingly ugly attitude you seem to have been born with."

"I knew you wanted to see me!" Legolas proclaimed wickedly at her retreating form. "What about your Friend? Do you wish to see her before we depart?"

Aragorn stopped in her tracks, having completely forgotten about the predicament he had found her in. She spun around again and began pacing frantically. "Oh! May the Valar smite me where I stand!" She cursed. "Do you really think she likes me more than- We are practically family!"

Legolas nodded, despite the fact that the woman refused to look at him. "I think you know too, you just do not want to admit it. You may not want my council, but I will give it to you anyway." He reclaimed his seat on the stone bench, this time choosing to recline with no-one else sharing his space. "Tell her what you truly are. Elves hardly ever find someone with whom they would like to share the rest of their lives with. She has mistaken you for that someone, and it will be extremely painful for her when she finds out. Painful, but bearable. The longer her mind and heart dwells on you, the harder it might be for her to find another."

Aragorn stopped her pacing and looked at the elf uncertainly. This was the first time the elf seemed to speak to her kindly, and with good intentions.

Legolas smiled at this, seeing as how she seemingly already forgot her words from earlier of 'not wanting to see him.' He chopped it up to shortened lives and shortened memories.

"She has been my first true friend, Legolas." She frowned. "What if she hates me? She has been the only woman who has ever talked to me without cringing in disgust."

Legolas's brow furrowed, "Why would they cringe?"

"I could get pretty ratty looking during my travels." She grimaced.

The elf groaned. "Lovely! Something I get to look forwards to as your babysitter." Then his head snapped back at the warrior before him, taking in the ratty, dark cloak, and the armor with the star on the breast. He hadn't noticed that she had changed into her armor while he took his time wandering the halls of Elrond's home, but now that he took it in he instantly recognized it from what seemed like ages ago. His eyes narrowed as he stepped closer, trying to break down her facial structure and how it may have appeared years ago.

Aragorn scowled at him, turning away and crossing her arms. Her face heated at the sudden scrutiny. "I did not ask for your company on the roads ahead. Please, if you have better things to attend to, be my guest."

Legolas waved his hand impatiently. "Ignore that!" He snapped. "You have been to Mirkwood before, haven't you?" Legolas was delighted, snapping his fingers at the elusive thought. "Now I know why I did not recognize you instantly! Last time we met you had been tracking that creature, Gollum, for days! You were quite a sorry sight standing before my father, begging for him to lock the raving monster away. We nearly locked you both away had he not showed his true colors and tried to bite several of the guard."

Aragorn frowned and rubbed her chin thoughtfully. "So the mud really does make a difference, does it?" She murmured, trying to change the subject. She really hated her time spent tracking that creature. It was not her finest adventure, though it was one of her longest thus far.

"That and the fact that you had not quite grown into your feminine features yet!" He guffawed. "As I remember you seemed to look not quite a boy and not yet a man. Either way though, you looked unfortunately soft for a male child of the human race. I found it odd how such a young, human boy could join the rangers, yet be such an accomplished tracker. I was even surprised that you were known for riding with the sons of Elrond at the time."

Aragorn paused, flushing slightly in embarrassment and annoyance at how he had underhandedly complemented her in such a way that she wasn't sure if she should be insulted. He said she looked like a man and a boy- which would be rude to say to a woman, as he knew her to be. He also said she had grown into feminine features- which was rude to say to a man, as he knew she was trying to pretend to be. He also complimented her accomplishments. That really hadn't seemed like a rude thing to say, but there must have been some meaning behind it.

"Well," She finally managed, "I will take that as a compliment." She composed herself by coughing into her hand briefly while rearranging her cloak and armor and nodding towards the elf.

Ignoring her irritated tone, Legolas hoisted himself up onto his feet and walked over to the angered ranger. He decided revert back to the matter at hand. "I am sure Arwen will at least try to understand once she calms. If she does not, then her father will have to reap what he has sewn, but do not worry about friendship now when so little is certain in the world." He reached out to lay a comforting hand on her shoulder. His heart ached for her in an odd way. She was not meant to be so confused. In the real world friendships were not so multi-sided as hers was with Arwen.

"Don't even." Aragorn growled, turning her head just in time to see the hand. It was like she had sensed it. "I said no touching, and I mean it."

She stormed off in the direction of the house, not bothering to pause as she called over her shoulder, "And I still do not want to see you until the meeting tomorrow." She knew his elf ears would not fail him.

And they didn't. He stood in the rose garden, curiosity slightly piqued by the mortal named Aragorn as she made her way to the Hall of Fire, hoping to find Arwen and her father to get the whole mess sorted out. The look of determination stayed firm on her features, causing several elves she passed to pause in their routine and watch her form as she marched down the hall.

~0~

Elrond had retired in the hall of fire shortly after conversing with Aragorn and Legolas. Things had quickly become quite a mess, so all he wanted was to relax for a moment with a nice drink, a warm place by the fire, and a beautiful song to sooth his heightening nerves. The coming day was bound to be just as bad as the one before, so it would do him little good to lose his head completely.

So, he was rather haggard and worn, looking into the depths of the fire when Arwen happened upon him. There were others in the hall, but they stayed far away from Elrond, knowing it was never a good idea to approach the stewing Lord unless you were close kin.

"Adar, may I speak to you of something of grave importance?" She asked, snapping the great lord out of his reverie.

He instantly looked upon her face and mustered a week smile. "Of course. What would you like to discuss?"

He made a motion to a chair by the fire, but she remained standing, a large grin growing on her features. "Adar, I think I gave my heart to someone."

"That is wonderful news." Elrond sat straighter in his chair. "Who is the lucky elf that won my daughter's affections?"

She blushed with embarrassment, continuing in a hushed tone as not to let the others in the hall accidentally pick up their conversation. "He is actually a mortal."

It was perfect timing, really, that Aragorn rushed into the hall at that moment. It was horrible timing that the Elvish song Elbereth began weaving its way through the halls.

Elrond rose from his chair, the fire casting a dark glow over his sharp features. In his moment of anger he had mistakenly guessed the owner of his daughter's heart as Boromir, the only true man he had recently let in his home. Aragorn was far from his mind as his daughter's suitor seeing as how he knew of her true gender. The thought hadn't even passed his mind.

"You will not wed that fool!" Elrond stormed, the ferocity in his voice caused even the flames to leap in fright. Boromir may have been a very handsome, strong warrior, but he was too firm in his beliefs. He thought he was always right. Sometimes that kind of conviction was a good thing, but other times it slowed down progress to the right path. Elrond could tell he would be trouble soon.

Aragorn winced, but hastened forward despite the looks of insanity she was earning from around the room. "Perhaps we should find someplace else to talk?" She suggested lamely. She shrunk back slightly at the withering glare Elrond sent her way, but she held her ground. She was certain there was some misunderstanding. If Elrond suspected she was the one her daughter adored he wouldn't have been so enraged. He would have simply told his daughter the truth.

"This is none of your business, Aragorn." Elrond hissed, turning back to Arwen. He attempted to soften his features, but his smile was still forced and terse. "When were you planning on telling me, Arwen? Just as we were leaving for Valinor?"

"I do believe I just told you, haven't I?" She retorted, eyes suddenly brimming with tears. It was obnoxious how Elves could look beautiful, even when crying. Humans looked disgusting with how their faces puckered and eyes squinted. "I thought you would be happy for me." She turned away from her father and launched herself into Aragorn's comforting arms.

Aragorn uncertainly patted her friend's back while looking at Elrond uncertainly.

The Elf Lord just stood there as sudden realization washed over him. He looked at the warrior and maiden as they clung to each other, almost speechless when he lost sight of Aragorn's face as her bangs trickled down her cheeks. One might mistake them for a man and woman if they didn't know.

And then he realized that Arwen was one of the many that didn't know.

He fell back into his seat, gazing anxiously into the flames. "Arwen, I must speak with you concerning your- ahem- love." Elrond spoke, all of his anger diminishing. "Perhaps it is best to speak after the council, when nerves are... not as high strung and some of the guests have left."

Elrond ran his hand over his face in horror. He would have preferred his daughter thought she loved Boromir! It was better than her thinking she loved Aragorn.

She was going to kill him.

Hopefully Aragorn would be long gone by the time he and his daughter finally found the time to sit down and discuss the matter. If she wasn't then things might really get out of hand.