WARNING: Bedroom Scene in this chapter.

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Chapter 14: Waking Up

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I tried to go on like I never knew you

I'm awake but my world is half-asleep.

I pray that my heart will be unbroken,

but without you all I'm going to be is

Incomplete.

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For the six decades after that fateful night at Imladris, when truths of all sorts had been revealed about the Stone and a hitherto hidden relationship, Legolas lived in a world which only felt half-complete.

Happiness should have been the outcome of that occasion that had begun with a joyful premise. But it had ended in sadness for many hearts, none more so than those of an elf prince and an impetuous young man – both still raw in the ways of life and love. That night, which should have been a wonderful moment for the two lovers, was the start of many restless days and nights for Legolas. For two weeks, the elves of Imladris conducted a fruitless search for a Ranger who did not wish to be found. Aragorn had obviously enlisted the aid of highly experienced Dunedain to remain hidden, and the Rangers told the elves nothing.

The elf prince evnetually returned to Mirkwood, plagued by the agonizing thought that perhaps the man he loved had decided to abandon a relationship that had been fraught with so much uncertainty, and that Aragorn – his little Estel – loved him no more in return.

Two years after Aragorn's abrupt departure from Imladris, Elrond's elves finally came upon him in the Ranger settlement, when he happened to be back from a long period in the Wilds. Overjoyed, the elves gave him the news of all that had taken place that night: Legolas had learnt the truth about the green stone's origins; Arwen had, after much discussion on both sides, wedded Thoronthalion as planned, and had returned with Legolas to Mirkwood, where she was now part of the royal family.

Everyone expected Aragorn to receive this news with happiness, but they were dismayed to find that his heart had been hardened. A strange light of sadness flared briefly in his eyes; then he merely walked away. It was Halbarad, his fellow Ranger and kinsman, who explained his behavior to the puzzled messengers of Elrond.

"Do not be offended, my friends," Halbarad said apologetically. "Aragorn has been tortured in mind and spirit for a long time. When he first left Imladris, he suffered through sleepless nights or had painful nightmares when he did sleep. For months, he had to battle his emotions, shedding many, many tears; then he had forced himself to accept his fate because he thought he had lost Legolas."

The elves nodded in silent understanding as their eyes followed the retreating figure of Aragorn. Halbarad sighed and continued. "First, he was robbed of his own home among Men, then he lost the two people he loved most in the world… and now he's faced with the tremendous task of delivering Middle-earth from a Dark Lord he does not even know," Halbarad said softly almost to himself, though he had a captive audience. "Can anyone blame him for growing dour and bitter?"

No one answered him, but Halbarad knew that the elves were completely in sympathy. "He once told me he'd chosen to close his heart against all affection," the Ranger continued. "He wanted only to devote himself to his duties among us – Rangers without real homes. This was his destiny, he had decided, not to live in peace with Legolas or anyone else. And now… now you bring this news which is a bit of a shock to him."

Halbarad looked at the elves then, asking for their understanding. "I know you expect him to regain what was once a love between him and Legolas, but I honestly cannot tell if he will change his mind – or if he does, whether it will be any time soon. I think he's grown afraid: afraid to hope, afraid of risking yet another loss, for who can tell what else might happen?" Halbarad's face filled with pity for his kinsman and his future king. "Aragorn has borne a lot of pain in his young life – we have to give him time."

So the elves brought the disappointing news back to Elrond – and thence on to Mirkwood. Aragorn did indeed, as Halbarad had predicted, choose to remain hardened. He returned only briefly to see his foster family every five years or so, and even then, he spoke little, only taking care to pay his respects to Lord Elrond and to brief the elves on the threats they faced from Sauron. It was during that time that he become acquainted with Gandalf, and from the wizard, he learnt much about the realm he was supposed to rule one day. To learn even more, he traveled in secret to many places in Middle-earth and served in the armies of Rohan and Gondor, using different names so that no one would know that he was the true heir to the throne.

The one place he avoided in the six decades was Mirkwood, where dwelt the person he refused to talk about. Elrond and Gandalf could not truly know if the man refused to talk about Legolas because he was trying to overcome the feelings he had once had for the elf – or because he could not forget him and was hurting from it.

This news about Aragorn Legolas received from time to time from visiting elves, and once in a long while from Gandalf himself. Part of the elf prince wished Aragorn would trust him enough to come to him, for he wanted the chance to assure the man that he would never let him down. But part of him conceded that things had been uncertain when they were last together, and he could not blame the young man for being afraid to risk being hurt again.

So Legolas' heart cried and bled for Aragorn. There were many days when he wished to ride off to look for the now elusive Ranger, but he did not know where to start his search, for Aragorn seemed to be in a different place each time Mirkwood received news of him.

In addition, Legolas understood that the heir of Isildur had to lie low, in order to be safe from discovery, and so Legolas never acted on his desire to seek Aragorn. He respected the man's wishes to stay hidden, and was also afraid to initiate a search that would reveal Aragorn's identity to the wrong people.

The elf prince himself did not fall in love with anyone else, and preferred instead to be alone, growing more aloof than he had been before during the sixty years he lived during his separation from Aragorn. Each morning he would awake telling himself to be strong, to push aside a memory that brought both sweetness and sorrow to him, and to get through the day as a prince of the Woodland Realm should. He surrounded himself with duties and work, involving himself more and more in guarding their kingdom against the growing darkness of Dol Guldur in the South that threatened to encroach into their beloved Greenwood. Most nights, he would be too mercifully exhausted and fall into a weary sleep before he could let the painful memories overwhelm him.

But he never forgot the one man he loved, and hungered for any news of Aragorn he could obtain, from whatever sources they came.

One day, it was Lord Elrond and Gandalf who had come to Mirkwood with news. Legolas listened intently as they spoke of the Shadow that was now growing more powerful, for the One Ring had been found, and the Three Elven Rings were losing power. Gandalf was now watching the situation, and did not seem hopeful.

"The time of the elves is coming to a close here in Middle-earth," the wizard had said in solemn warning. "Men must now act – and Aragorn must lead them."

Legolas' ears pricked up at once, though not a word left his lips.

"Will he not take up that role?" asked Thranduil, aware of his son's attention to the news. "Has he not been actively learning more about Gondor?"

Gandalf sighed before he answered. "He has indeed been doing that," the wizard replied. "But I cannot say the same for his preparations to take the throne of Gondor. He seems very… disheartened, discouraged… almost spiritless." The wizard paused, absently puffing on his pipe. "He appears reluctant to pursue his heritage to the end. I think he prefers to remain a Ranger."

"Well, surely that is understandable," said Arwen defensively, for she had looked after Estel for many years of his childhood, and had never lost her fondness for him. "It is a much safer role to play than being the future King of Gondor – the one who has to challenge Sauron."

Elrond nodded in agreement. "It is true," he conceded with a sigh. "I love him as my own – yet I am ever aware of his true lineage. The world of Men does need him, and for their sake, he must meet his destiny and fight to claim his throne."

"Yes, we have to find something to make him want to challenge Sauron," said Gandalf.

"But the fate of Middle-earth and the realms of Men," Thranduil said. "Do they not provide enough motivation?"

Gandalf shook his head without looking up. "Apparently not yet," he replied. "But I suppose all we can do is wait and see if they will."

Legolas said nothing throughout the discussion, but as he listened, his heart grew heavier. While he shared the other elves' concern over the fate of Middle-earth, his anxiety was targeted at Aragorn, and his prayer was for Aragorn to be safe.

There are enough hearts worrying about the world, he said silently to an Aragorn who was not there. Let me worry about you.

There were times like that evening, when neither work nor duty could claim his attention, when his sorrow would not stay buried. Then Legolas would excuse himself and seek his place of solitude in his special tree where he would give free rein to all he felt. He would let his tears flow unchecked, with only the trees and the wind and the birds as hushed and sympathetic witnesses.

Today was one such day. It was exactly sixty years to the day that Aragorn had first departed, leaving Imladris in turmoil and Legolas in deep pain. Legolas sat in his tree, leaning back against the strong stem and closing his eyes.

"Aragorn…" he whispered tearfully to the absent loved one. "By the end of this day, I will not have seen you for sixty years. How are you faring, my beloved Estel? Are you safe and well? How are you being treated?" Then he choked as he asked: "Will I ever see you again?"

All of the woods around him bowed in sorrow with him as he sobbed. Sixty years was a brief span of time for an elf, Legolas knew, but he wondered whether that length of time would show upon Aragorn, and what the man was like now. Then, although the thought was like a spear through his heart, he wondered if Aragorn had forgotten him.

With a twinge of guilt, he suddenly thought about his family, and he hung his head. He knew how they had all shared his pain and tried to help him. They had all done their best to comfort him and take his mind off Aragorn, but they all knew – though it saddened them to admit it – their beloved Legolas still carried the love of his life in his gentle heart.

Slowly, he descended his tree; it was almost time for dinner, and he did not wish for Thalion to come and call for him as the older prince still did sometimes. In addition, they had earlier received news that Gandalf was approaching Mirkwood with an important discovery, and Legolas could not help wondering if it included news of the man he thought of day and night.

Truly enough, as they were sitting down to dinner, an elf entered the dining room and announced the arrival of Gandalf. The royal family quickly rose and went outside eagerly to meet the Istari. His presence was always welcome, for his tales of the outside world were much valued.

This evening, however, they found more than Gandalf waiting for them, for at the end of a leash which he held on to securely, was a strange creature: dark, gaunt, and dirty, reeking of a foul smell that assailed their sensitive noses even from a distance. The creature sometimes stood on two feet but sometimes crouched on all fours. He snarled and shrieked, pulling violently on the leash and trying to free himself.

"Be still!" Gandalf commanded fiercely, pointing his staff at the creature. The loud voice of the wizard cowed the creature for a while, who covered his face and slunk whimpering into the shadows under some trees.

"Keep an eye – the more eyes the better – on him!" Gandalf instructed some astonished and open-mouthed elves nearby as he handed the leash to them. As the wary elves did his bidding, leading the creature away at arrow-point, the wizard walked over to an equally astonished royal family who had been watching the whole scene.

"Let me guess, my lord Gandalf," said a wide-eyed Alkarmenel. "That is Gollum?"

Gandalf laughed. "It is indeed, young one!" he replied. "We found him wandering about near Dol Guldur, obviously up to no good, I'll warrant. With your leave, my lord Thranduil, I would like him to remain here – under the watchful scrutiny of your wood-elves." Gandalf lowered his voice then. "You know his history; you know how he desires to look for the One Ring, and we cannot afford to let him find it."

Thranduil's lips set in a straight line. "I have no love for this creature, and would just as soon drive him from my realm," he said frankly. "But I will do as you ask, my old friend. Let it not be said that the elves of the Greenwood would not do their part in helping to keep the Ring safe from the wrong hands."

Gandalf gave a rueful smile. "We thank you," he said softly, brushing his beard and looking tired.

"You must desire refreshment," said Thalion, as polite as ever. "We were about to dine, and you are, as always, just on time! But before we go in, I must ask you a question. Twice now you have said 'we,' and once to thank us, so I know it cannot be the creature you speak of, for he would certainly not thank us for keeping him under guard! Who is it, therefore, that comes with you?"

A twinkle entered Gandalf's wizened eyes then, and a smile lit his tired face. He drew himself up to his full height and looped his thumbs through the belt of his well-worn long robe.

"Did I not say, now?" he asked in an almost mischievous tone. "Indeed, I did come with someone – he helped me track down Gollum and capture him. He's about here somewhere, perhaps washing up a tad." The wizard looked around the darkening grounds of the Mirkwood Palace Caves, peering into the shadows. "Ah, here he comes!" he exclaimed, turning back to the family. "And young Legolas here may be eager to see him."

Then from a darkened corner of the grounds, walking calmly in, came a grim-looking, dirty and obviously weary figure. He had indeed tried to wash himself a little, for his stubbled face was wet. His blue-grey eyes were like deep pools of experience – seeing much but showing little. His clothes were travel-worn, and his long, dark hair was in dire need of grooming.

But to Legolas, the tall man was the most beautiful sight in Middle-earth.

The man was older now, the innocence of youth was no longer on his countenance, but he was one of the Dunedain, one of the few remaining of the race of Numenor who lived far longer than most Men. And so the passage of sixty years had merely matured him. The years could not hide the strong lines of his handsome face, nor remove the cleft in his chin that the elf had loved since the man had been a child.

"Aragorn," the prince breathed when he finally found his voice. His wide, unblinking blue eyes took in the vision of the person he had been thinking of each moment of his past sixty years. His feet were rooted to the spot as Aragorn approached slowly, the eyes of the man fixed on the elven ones.

"Estel," Legolas said again shakily, hardly daring to believe that the man was finally before him, real… or was he real? Was this but a dream, a cruel teasing dream? He found his eyes beginning to grow moist with unbidden tears.

At the sight of the tears, the man halted briefly, his brows knitting. His jaw was set in a hard line as he drew in a breath and remembered his manners. Turning to the astonished King of Mirkwood, he bowed.

"My lord," he said softly before giving a stunned Arwen, Thalion and Alkarmenel similar small smiles of greeting.

Then he turned back to Legolas, and his face that held both gladness and regret melted the heart of the young prince. For a long moment, the two friends and lovers could only gaze at each other – with joy, sorrow, and uncertainty in their eyes. The whole group of elves and one Istari shared their muteness, and even the trees seemed hushed.

Then the man spoke. "You have not changed at all, my prince," he said quietly. "The world could not touch your beauty."

Legolas released a tiny sob then that he could not hold back, and of one accord, man and elf moved towards each other and locked in a close embrace. As they held each other tightly and buried their faces in each other's hair, the years fell away. They wept as their emotions came undone, not caring who was watching.

"Aragorn… Estel," Legolas said tearfully, his voice shaking with both joy and disbelief. "How long I have waited to see you again!"

"Forgive me, my prince," Aragorn uttered softly in reply, his own voice strangled as his arms tightened around the elven body he had missed so badly. "Forgive me for leaving!"

Legolas shook his head as vehemently as he could while being held so tightly. "None of it was your fault - none of it!" he said through sobs. "Things were so uncertain... and I wish... I wish I had..."

"Shhh, hush, my prince," Aragorn whispered into the elf's ear. "I lay no blame on you either, Legolas. I should not have left."

Many were the eyes that closed in quiet joy or filled with tears at this emotional reunion of the friends and lovers, and dinner went forgotten for a while as the Mirkwood royal family – and Arwen not the least – greeted Aragorn with sincere gladness.

"You cannot know how it lightens our hearts to see you again, Estel!" said the beautiful elleth as she kissed the man lovingly on his bristled cheeks. "And Legolas' most of all! While we have all missed you, he has been in nothing short of agony all these years."

As Legolas tried to hide the shadow of the pain he had borne and the man's face became clouded with regret, Thranduil looked upon them in sympathy and decided to give them some time alone.

"Come, Gandalf, old friend," he said. "Let us all adjourn to my dinner table – but perhaps Aragorn would prefer to wash a little first? Legolas, if you would be so good as to accompany our guest..."

His eyes shining with gratitude, Legolas watched the rest of his family return to the dining room while he led Aragorn speechlessly back to his own sleeping chamber. They passed several elves along the way who had not witnessed their meeting. Their eyes went wide with surprise at the sight of the Ranger, but politeness forbade questions or remarks on their part. Legolas himself had to exercise every ounce of self-restraint to keep his hands off the man he had not seen for sixty years, and he could sense that Aragorn was making a similar effort.

But at last, the two friends reached the prince's bedroom, and each released a long sigh. Great was their relief, but even greater was their anticipation of what they were each hoping would follow.

Legolas opened his door and let Aragorn enter first. Turning back to shut the door, the prince was suddenly struck by nervousness as the realization came crashing down upon him: that the man who had haunted all of his waking and sleeping moments was finally, finally here again. The euphoric joy he had felt upon first seeing Aragorn again now sank into a cold pit somewhere in his stomach, and his hands shook as he bolted the door. A hundred questions running through his mind, each begging to be asked.

How are you, Estel? Where have you been? What kind of life have you led? Was I in your thoughts all those years?

Then the questions that he most feared to ask came to mind, and he was assailed by doubt.

Do you still love me as you once did? Or... have you found someone to take my place in your heart?

But not one word left his lips.

Legolas could feel the unblinking gaze of human eyes upon his back, and he dared not turn around to face the owner of those blue-grey orbs that had mesmerized him sixty years ago. He closed his own eyes and discovered hot tears trailing down his cheeks. A small sob escaped his throat before he could check it. Then he felt gentle hands upon his shoulders and he found himself being spun around and encircled by strong arms.

He lifted his face to say something, but the warm lips of the Ranger crushed onto his – and speech became unnecessary. All the questions that had been spinning around in his mind flew away as he quickly became lost in a long-missed, desperate kiss. Calloused hands cupped the back of his neck and drew him ever closer as Aragorn kissed him hungrily, savoring his sweet breath and moaning into the delicate mouth. The man released the elven lips only long enough to wipe away the elf's tears before he captured them again.

Then after sixty years of fearful doubt, Legolas felt more confident that perhaps Aragorn's love for him had not waned.

"Estel, Estel…" Legolas moaned, tasting Aragorn's lips and tongue greedily and setting the man's own desire aflame. "I have missed you so greatly!"

"No more than I have missed you," Aragorn mumbled in reply.

Moments later, the travel-stained garb of the Ranger and the elegant attire of the elf prince lay on the floor in a tangled heap. "Beautiful, beautiful Legolas," Aragorn murmured feelingly as he seized the elven lips again and ran calloused hands fervently over the elf's fair, creamy skin.

While relishing the man's kiss, Legolas let his own fingers travel over the tanned skin of the Ranger, delighting in the hard muscles that ran from top to bottom – till he came to the juncture of the Ranger's thighs, but even that soon grew hard under his groping fingers.

"Aaaah, Legolas, you will undo me here and now," the man murmured huskily into the elven ear.

"Then be undone," Legolas returned boldly, looking into the blue-grey eyes. "It has been long enough."

"There is still so much to say –"

"Time enough for that later, Estel," the elf replied softly. "For now… let us give each the pleasure that has been taken from us for far too many years."

"Aaah, Legolas…" Aragorn lamented. "I wish nothing more than to taste that pleasure at this very moment, but I will not sully you with the grime of my travels. Please… first allow me the decency of a bath."

For the first time that evening since Aragorn's appearance, Legolas smiled. Dinner would be long over before he and Aragorn were done, but what they would have would be far more delicious.

Soon, the elf had run a bath warmed by the heat of a natural underground spring. With a long sigh of delight, the man stepped into the deep bath tub, soaking in the steaming fragrance of soaps and oils Legolas had added. Slowly and lovingly, the elf helped to wash the Ranger's lank hair and body, moving his hands slowly over the well-toned form. His fingers gently traced the many scars Aragorn had procured, no doubt while serving in the armies of Rohan and Gondor, and he longed to ask the man about them.

But there would be time later, Legolas decided, and for now, he simply wished to give the man a comforting bath.

Aragorn rested his head on the edge of the tub, melting under the feel of the gentle elven hands, feeling as if he was in a dream. For sixty years, he could not imagine ever being blessed with Legolas' lovely touch again. There was so much he had to say to the elf, so much…

Suddenly, he grasped Legolas' hands and held them still. The Ranger reached up with his own wet ones and cupped the cheek of the elf looking down at him.

"Gandalf says you have received news of my whereabouts and activities through the years," the Ranger said, seeking confirmation.

"Yes, I have," Legolas replied softly, lowering his eyes. "I… it took me time to understand why you left, to understand your fear… but I came to accept it."

Aragorn swallowed. "I… I tried to forget you, Legolas," he confessed sadly, running a finger along the elf's cheek. "But I could no more forget you than forget to breathe."

"But why? Why did you try to forget me?" Legolas asked, his brows furrowing and a note of hurt creeping into his voice. "You never left my mind!" he added. "Nor did I ever wish for you to do so, for my heart beat only for you, only in the hopes of seeing you again some day!"

"I was foolish, Legolas!" Aragorn admitted in self-reproach, grasping the elven hands tightly. "I dared not hope for your love. There was the green stone… and Arwen… I thought it was hers…"

"It is yours, Aragorn!" Legolas insisted. "If only you had stayed to hear of it, Estel –"

"I know," the man conceded. "But… but there was also…" He lowered his eyes as he struggled to express thoughts that were obviously troubling him. "You… you'd never said that… that you loved me, Legolas."

"What!" Legolas exclaimed in disbelief. "Aragorn, you know I've always loved you!"

"Yes, but not as…as someone you love with… with all of yourself," the Ranger struggled to explain. "Legolas, you said you were not sure of your feelings then… and I was afraid… I was afraid I would always remain nothing more than a child to you."

Legolas felt a rush of regret within himself at those words as he recalled all the conversations they had had in Imladris. Aragorn was right: he had been struggling to understand how Aragorn and the green stone might be related; he had told Aragorn he needed time to sort things out; although he had loved the man with all his heart, he had not truly given Aragorn the assurance that the man would be the one to share his future. So, Legolas thought ruefully, the sixty-year separation had partly been due to his own hesitation at the time.

"Do you still love me as you would a child, Legolas?" the man asked in a small voice, looking up at him with pained eyes that almost broke the elf's heart.

Legolas was appalled. No longer would he allow any doubt within the Ranger now. He lifted the man's chin gently and looked down upon it with all the promise he could show upon his own face.

"Listen to me as I say it now, Estel," he said. "I love you," he stated evenly. "I love you, Estel the child, and Aragorn the man. I love you for whatever and whoever you have been – and whoever you will become!"

He bent close to the face below till their lips were but an inch apart. "Aragorn, melleth nin," he breathed. "My love, my love."

And Legolas sealed that assurance with a long, sweet kiss, the ends of his long hair trailing in the warm water. While Aragorn sighed in joy and held the elf's head to deepen the kiss, the elven hands continued to caress the man's body, going further and further downwards till they closed around a long, turgid shaft.

Legolas broke the kiss then. "Time to leave the water, don't you think, melleth?" he asked with a meaningful smile.

Aragorn did not need further persuasion. He soon emerged from the water and allowed Legolas to dry him off. Then, with a gentle growl, he bent slightly and scooped up the light elf easily, his strength having grown with the hard life he had led.

"I need to taste you now, my elf," he said huskily before he slammed his lips downwards onto the waiting ones below. Without breaking the kiss, he staggered out of the bath chamber with his beloved Legolas in his arms and sought the prince's soft, comfortable bed. Finding it, the Ranger placed his precious burden upon it and wasted no time in climbing on top of Legolas, bringing their arousals together – hot, hard flesh needing release.

Mercifully, no one disturbed them for the next hour as Aragorn and Legolas gave in to their desires held in check for six decades.

The man tasted Legolas from the tips of his ears to the depths of his mouth, and down the white milky plain of his chest and abdomen. Finally, he took the elf's arousal into the hot chamber of his mouth, causing the lean body to arch off the bed and writhe in pleasure.

Aragorn held Legolas' hips in place while his lips and tongue worked mercilessly on the elven shaft, sucking and grazing his teeth gently along the length, teasing Legolas again and again to the brink of release till the elf could take no more.

"Please, Aragorn!" Legolas begged, clawing at the bedsheets. "Please, please… aaaaah…"

Taking pity on Legolas, Aragorn gave a long, hard swipe of his tongue on the underside of the elven rod, and closed his mouth quickly over the top as the elf shot his seed into it. Aragorn drank Legolas' essence with great satisfaction, pleased that he could still pleasure the elf he loved after six decades. He watched in delight as Legolas moaned and called out his name in the throes of his pleasure, and when he had milked the elven rod dry, he rolled off to the side and, with a smile, waited patiently for the elf's breathing to even again.

To Aragorn's alarm, he saw tears leak from Legolas' closed eyes. Gently, he placed a palm on the elven cheek and turned the fair face towards him.

"Legolas, what's wrong?" he asked in fear. "Did I hurt you, my love? What did I do?"

Legolas grasped the man's hand and held it fast against his wet cheek. "Nay, Aragorn, nay!" the elf assured him through his tearful smile. "On the contrary… it is a pleasure I have not had since you left…"

A thrill of joy went through Aragorn when he realized that Legolas had not had another lover in his absence, for he himself had found no other, but his concern was not alleviated.

"Then why the tears, beloved?" he asked, still puzzled.

"Because," the elf said, running a slim finger along the man's bottom lip. "All the time you were away from me, it seemed like part of me was missing. I was never whole." His voice dropped to a sad whisper. "I felt only half-awake in the bright light of day, Aragorn, and only half-asleep when the world was in darkness."

Aragorn took hold of the elven finger playing along his lip and kissed it tenderly. That is how I felt as well, my beloved, he thought.

"And now…" Legolas continued. "It is only now that I have come awake. Only now do I feel… that the missing part of my life is back."

Aragorn ran his hands lovingly through the long, golden hair fanned out on the pillow around the beautiful face of the elf, and stroked the jawline softly. "So it is I who makes you feel complete then?" he asked hopefully.

"Yes, you silly Ranger, yes!" said the elf prince, smiling dreamily. He caught hold of Aragorn's dark head and pulled it down for a lingering kiss while his hands swept over the manly muscles on the Ranger's back.

Then, before Aragorn could realize what was happening, he found himself on his back with a grinning Legolas atop him. The blue eyes were filled with love and anticipation.

"My turn now," the elf declared softly before he used his lips and tongue and hands to drive the Ranger senseless.

An hour later, Aragorn and Legolas dragged themselves out of the room for a very late dinner. Aragorn also wished to pay his courtesies to King Thranduil and engage in conversation with the family. Sitting with them in the King's living room, he recounted to them where he had gone and what he had done to learn about Gondor during the past decades. The information he gave was no different from all that Gandalf and Lord Elrond had provided, but the details kept his audience rapt.

For close to two hours, questions came to him from all directions, and he answered them calmly and patiently. It became clear to all who listened just how hard a life Aragorn had led in the past sixty years, and how much danger he had had to face from orcs and other minions of Sauron who would not stop seeking his end, and how much death he had had to confront while serving in the armies of Rohan and Gondor.

As Aragorn spoke, Legolas admired how much the young man he had known was now an even more confident and wise soul – someone who would one day make a fine king for his people.

Yet, Aragorn no longer seemed to envision the same destiny for himself.

"I have seen much of Middle-earth – perhaps too much," the man said quietly when he had finished recounting his experiences. "It has been painful… so much hate and death and despair…" A bitter note crept into his voice as he continued. "I wish for nothing more now than to rest in some quiet place, where my body and spirit can heal, and so that I can spend time – much of which I lost from foolishness – with Legolas. That is all I desire, and I ask for nothing more."

Arwen and Legolas smiled at Aragorn in sympathy, ready to give him that which he so desired. Thranduil and Gandalf, however, exchanged a look of concern, but each shook his head at the other, sending a silent message: He has to take the step to lead his people against Sauron, but there will be time enough to speak of that in the days to come.

Thus, they refrained from saying anything on that matter, but bid Aragorn and Legolas a good night, and watched them retire – to one or two bed chambers, no one would question, for though Thranduil longed to give a word of warning to his youngest son, the father saw the smile of joy on the face of that son that had been missing for far too long. And thus, the father said nothing but trusted in the wisdom of his child.

Instead, it was Thoronthalion who had the last few words for Aragorn that night. "Aragorn, I thank you for the smile upon my brother's face," the eldest prince said quietly to the man, with a smile of his own. "I only ask, as my father would, that you understand his… innocence… and the honor of the elves, for it is you now who is the older, not in years, but in the ways of the world."

Aragorn looked steadily into the clear eyes of the concerned brother and gave him a reassuring nod. "Legolas' honor shall be intact, I assure you, Prince," the Ranger said, understanding the prince's unvoiced concern. "I love your brother, and though I foolishly caused him pain once, I would do only right by him from now on. You have my word."

His word was good enough for the older members of the royal family. And so for the rest of the night, man and elf were allowed to retire in peace. They sought pleasure in each other again, taking care not to breach a limit they each knew could not yet be crossed, and when they had sated their desires, they slept in each other's arms and received no interruption from an understanding outside world.

For that night at least, they were mercifully unaware of the events that would soon be touching their lives in unexpected ways.

Note: I thank ALL the reviewers! (Hugs!) Please do keep reviewing – the fuel is welcome. :)

I must explain that the separation of sixty years allows the story to be somewhat consistent with the timeline of the canon story, in which Aragorn left Rivendell at the age of twenty to live with the Rangers, and he did live long years wandering - and unmarried - till after the Quest when he was more than 80 years of age. (I will not say more about where this story will lead from this point; the ensuing chapters will tell. :)

For those who think Aragorn would be old and decrepit at 80 - banish the thought. Because of his bloodline, he would still be a hunk.