Disclaimer: I own nothing. It all belongs to J.R.R. Tolkein.

Title Translation: For what Purpose?

Victory is never easily won.

For those few times we succeed in the art of war; the losses often outweigh the gain. There is always death, blood, and grief. We celebrate with banquets, parades, and festivals while our loved ones rot in the grave with mortal wounds. Survivors revel in their relief and guilt, drowning in the ales of success in order to assuage sorrow. Whispers of 'doing our best' and 'they will never be forgotten' are salves to our fastidious denial. The Living carry on and the Dead speak no more, in coffins and tombs with naught but rocks and rot to keep them company.

My people were slain alongside men in Helm's Deep. I told myself it was a glorious end, a falling to sing about in the years to come. My mind reassured me that their families would never be forgotten; that elves, men and dwarves would praise them for eons onward and the glory of their deaths was of storybook mythology. Haldir, with his magnificent lineage and undetermined proclivity would rest with the reassurance of memorial immortality. And yet, even as I cleaned my sword I knew it was an awful lie. The Dead had families who needed them, children who might starve without them. As much as I wanted to tell myself otherwise, there was no glory in the grave.

As I dragged my feet up the slope of the Gate, I saw wives grieve over their fallen husbands. Some wept quietly as they covered familiar faces with shrouds; others wailed in despair to the Heavens, their faces upturned as if asking Illuvatar why they would take the ones they loved. Children with babes in the crooks of their arms stared on in a numbed shock; their eyes devoid of any emotion but incredulous inertia. Helm's Deep was nearly a people destroyed, and I couldn't help but feel angry at Theodin's foolishness. All of this could have been avoided with a little careful planning. Now, the people of Rohan would face the blackness of a victory won with an immense amount of sacrifice.

Making my way up to the Keep, I tried my best to remain stoic, steadfast, and detatched. I truly felt sorry for the souls both living and dead. Rohan would persevere, for now, but there was no knowing what the future would bring. Now the people of Theoden had to begin a long march back home, to villages and huts with futures just as uncertain as they were when they left. The men who had come with Eomer's company had no choice but prepare for another battle. Theoden spoke scornfully when Aragorn mentioned that Gondor might call for aid, but I sensed that he was deeply invested in the Fate of Middle Earth, whether for the greater good or his own people. Resting my hand on the rough-hewn stone of the armory, I wondered what possessed anyone to send so many out to die. Orc, human, warg, elf, or goblin...violence seemed a petty pursuit. I understood my father's world-weary expression when he returned from battle. One part anger, another grief, and yet a another a sort of stunned bewilderment. Wearily, I unbuckled my fighting knives and sank into a cross-legged position after retrieving a cloth to clean them. Their sheen was lost under a congealed coating of black and nausea rose in the back of my throat before I pushed it down. Dipping the fabric in a bucket of water, I began the tedious task of cleaning them. It was ritualistic, really. I could have saved it for later but I needed the solitude and the repetitiveness. A small sunbeam filtered in through a chink high in the wall; giving me the necessary light to accomplish my task.

"I thought I'd find you here." I paused, my fingers faltering in their task, and I gave a brief nod to acknowledge my unexpected companion. There was a rustling of boots as the speaker moved to kneel next to me. "I'm surprised you aren't out on the turrets watching the sun rise."

"There is no sun for me today" I said bitterly. "I see only death."

"We've won" Aragorn pointed out.

"You know there's more to it than that" I whispered.

I turned to look at him fully, taking in the sight of his dirt and blood-streaked face. He had shed his protective gear but remained in his tunic, dark bruises blooming over where a mace or the flat of a sword had caved in his armor. His arms bore a great collection of scratches and burns, and his hands were deeply calloused from gripping his sword for so long. Those deep grey eyes were pools of grimness and grief, he and Haldir had been friends for a long time and I knew his death weighed heavily upon him. Strands of dark hair lay in disarray about his shoulders, streaked with ash and soot. I wondered what a mess I looked to him, brought down with the spoils of battle.

"War is never pretty" Aragorn commented, as if reading my thoughts. He took the cloth I was using to clean my knives and set it aside. Strong fingers plucked the weapons from my hands and laid them gently on the floor next to us. He slid forward onto his knees, facing me, and took my chin in his grasp. I trembled as he gazed at me, leaning forward 'till we were but inches apart. I could see every detail of his visage, down to the hairline scratch over his nose. "If you'll forgive me" he whispered. "All I want is a moment."

"You can have it" I laughed, reaching up to trace the contour of his cheek.

There was a coppery taste to his lips, remnants of what had come to pass, along with the mysterious virile flavor that was his and his alone. I let both my hands settle on his shoulders, gripping the fabric of his tunic as I tilted my head upwards. He coaxed me with his mouth until I opened my lips to allow the questing ventures of his tongue and I met it with mine. A great thrill seemed to shiver through me; one borne from despair, uncertainty and exhaustion. His nearness was a balm to my weary soul, and I could only acknowledge how lucky we were. There were many others who would not have the solace of another's arms after such a battle.

I hesitantly rose to my knees to meet him as his kisses left my mouth to continue down my neck. He took his time; blazing a trail of fire from my cheek to my collar, his hands fumbling with the hem of my shirt in order to slip underneath. A humming, reverberating warmth stirred within me as his fingers made contact with my hips and pulled me flush against him. Vaguely, I heard myself moan and tilted my head back as his mouth moved lower. Almost absentmindedly, I coiled my hands in the fabric at the small of his back and drew it away; feeling the smooth yet virile planes of his flesh beneath my fingers. Aragorn shuddered and brought his mouth back to mine, his questing fingers struggling with the lacings to my shirt before tugging them open.

"Aragorn" I muttered, and I winced at the wanton tone of my voice. "We're in the armory-" I gasped as his mouth found the tips of my ears, gently nipping with playful teeth before sliding down to suck at the lobes. "-Aragon!"

My hands shook, and I wanted nothing more than to succumb to his ministrations in the most lascivious and self-serving way possible. His attentions left me helpless in his arms, succumbed to the prurient sweetness of his touch. I knew hardly anything of the pleasures of the flesh; let alone that of those between two men. Aragorn's minstrations were tender, worshipful, but clumsy; and I sensed he had little more experience than I.

"Before you two undress each other completely, I think I ought to step in."

Gimli's gruff voice cut through the sensual serenity of our encounter like a knife against water. Aragorn jerked back and stood abruptly, putting space between us as if he'd been stung. I remained kneeling; my laces hanging open, hiding an extremely prominent physical problem between my thighs. Flushed red, I refused to meet the dwarf's gaze; preferring to stare at the floor and catch my breath. There was a moment of awkward grumbling from our friend.

"You both should know I don't approve" he said finally. Aragorn gave a derisive snort but I didn't look up. "I could tell you that if you decide to come public the world will fall to shambles, but I'm sure you've already thought of that."

"We have" I said shakily, finally meeting his gaze. Gimli looked worried and tired.

"Lads, I know that neither of you would jump in to anything this serious without giving it a bit of thought, but I just want you to think about it. You know I support you, whatever you choose. You deserve to be happy." He sighed. "I just hope you're sure about this."

"Thank you, Gimli" Aragorn said quietly.

The dwarf harrumphed and moved to pick up the cleaning rag I had dropped, removing his axe from his belt.

"I'm to tell you we ride to Isengard come midday" he continued. "Gandalf wants you to be packed and ready." He eyed us sternly. "So no more of...that. We've not the time for it, you know that."

"Of course" I mumbled, embarassed. "I'm sorry you had to see it."

"Och! Don't apologize! We're all right happy to have the events of last night done and over with, and I can't blame you for a moment's repast. Just...be more careful where you decide to have such moments."

Aragorn and I didn't get a chance to speak to each other for a long while after that. I left to say a prayer over the graves of my fallen kin. Gandalf joined me and gave his own blessing, his hand on my shoulder in a gesture of comfort. Afterwards, we went to speak with Theoden, who asked us to assist in the burning of the enemy carcasses. This took most of the rest of the morning and was foul and loathsome work. The stench of burning bodies is never pleasant, whether friend or foe. I took it upon myself to visit the caverns to check on the wounded and their families. Aragorn was tending to several people at once and had only the time to pass me dressings and herbs before rushing off to the next patient. As I knelt next to a soldier with a truly awful headwound, I registered two sets of footsteps approaching behind me. Putting down a salve I was applying to the wound, I turned to greet Leofwyn and Gleothain. Both children were incomprehensibly grubby. Leofwyn's face was red and stained with tears and Gleothain was as pale as a ghost.

"Well hello" I said softly. "How good it is to see you both alive and well!"

At this, Leofwyn burst into tears and laid her head on her brother's shoulder. I looked at the elder sibling, who stared back grimly.

"Our Da fell" he said hoarsely, his little hand trembling. "Mama, mama was taken by a warg 'afore we got here."

Leofwyn wailed even more loudly at the mention of her mother and I felt my heart ache.

"I'm sorry" I whispered, reaching out and taking Gleothain's hand. "I know they loved you very much, and they will not be forgotten." The boy's face contorted in a terrible expression of grief. "Is there anything I can do?"

"You was kind to us" Gleothain replied, rubbing roughly at his eyes. "I just wanted to thank you."

I hesitated, at a loss of what to do for the two bereft children before me. Struck with a sudden idea, I reached behind me to rummage in my pack; coming up with a thick package of lembas.

"I know food is scarce" I said quietly, handing the boy the bread wrapped in soft green leaves. "Just one bite of this will keep you full for a long time. It should be enough to last you both a week or two. Keep it, and use it as sparingly as you can."

Gleothain hugged the gift to his chest, his eyes glittering with unshed tears.

"Thank you sir" he said gruffly. "I won't forget it."

Leofwyn rushed forward to embrace me and I caught her more out of surprise than anything. Burrowing her little nose in the crook of my neck she hugged me as if I was the only solid thing in a world full of uncertainty. I could almost have screamed at the injustice of it, but I kept my unhappiness to myself.

"C'mon Leofwyn" Gleothain finally said. "We've got to gather up what Mama left for us."

Sniffling, the little girl did as she was told, and I watched their retreating backs and wondered if there was any fairness left in the world. With a resolve to ensure somewhat of a success in their future, I bandaged my charge and tracked down lady Eowyn at the back of the caverns; she was tending to the food stores with another woman who did not give me her name.

"Leofwyn and Gleothain?" she said confusedly.

I nodded and folded my arms.

"If you want to make up for what you did to Aragorn, that's a good place to start."

She gave me a sharp look.

"He told you?"

I flushed.

"Well...no."

She sighed.

"Legolas, I can't help every man, woman and child in Edoras. What would you have me do? Set them up in my quarters in Edoras?" She grimaced and set down a basket of apples. "Everyone would demand the treatment they were getting, I can't afford to play favorites." I wilted, knowing she was right, and her gaze softened. "What happened to those children was terrible and unfair. But there are other children in the same position, and I can do no more for any of them than the other. Believe me when I say that I am just as invested in their welfare as you are." She smiled crookedly. "Jealous I may be, but cruel to children I am not."

I met up with Aragorn in the stables, and he looked just as harried as I. Saddling Hasufel, he shot me a wry smile and I nodded in greeting before hurrying to tend to Arod. Gimli appeared a few moments later and helped me situate the saddlebags before disappearing 'round a corner to Shadowfax's stall to have a word with Gandalf. Checking my inventory one more time to be sure of myself, I dragged a stepping stool over to Arod for Gimli and slung myself over the horse's side. Aragorn, already leading Hasufel out of the stable, gave me a jaunty wave and I grimaced. I was pleased to be going, though I couldn't say for how long I'd be in such good spirits. Truly, I hoped to never see Helm's Deep ever again, if I could help it. The memory of my kin perishing beside me would ever haunt my mind, and I had no desire to stay where they had fallen.

To my surprise, Gimli opted to ride with Gandalf; stating that he'd like the chance to boast of riding such a fine horse to his kin. Shadowfax was none too happy about the sudden development, and made it perfectly clear that this was a one time event, and we were to never expect another. Gandalf himself said nothing of Gimli's sudden affectation to his horse, but gave Aragorn and I a look that left me very uncomfortable. After eating a quick lunch we were swiftly on our way after stopping to farewell Theoden. Gandalf seemed all but sure that Saruman had been defeated, though we could not get him to say how. We were all used to the air of mystery that surrounded the old wizard and didn't press him for more information. There was no breeze, and the sun warming our backs was pleasant enough. Gandalf regaled us of his travels of yore and we spent the afternoon in pleasant company. We were ever-watchful of orcs, as I was sure that some had to have escaped during the battle, but we came across none. After some time, when Gandalf and Gimli had drawn a good distance ahead, Aragorn brought Hasufel close to me in order to have a private conversation.

"I'm sorry for putting you in such a situation this morning" he commented, drawing hard on the reigns.

"It was my fault as much as yours" I replied. "I'm just glad it was Gimli who found us." I shuddered. "Imagine if it was Theoden."

"Don't even speak of it!" Aragorn exclaimed in horror. He glanced ahead, to make sure we were out of earshot of our companions. "I've been meaning to ask you...how much do you know of...?" He gestured incomprehensibly. I raised an eyebrow and he flushed. "I mean...I've never, I'd always thought I'd save myself for Arwen."

"Have I ever been intimate with anyone else?" I asked, catching his meaning, and he nodded. "I've been kissed, if that's what you're asking. But I've never...slept with anyone. Elves don't 'sleep around', as some would say." I absentmindedly itched my ear. "You have never...?"

"No" he said awkwardly. "Not with anyone. I mean, Arwen and I kissed but I'm afraid I'm rather as ignorant as you are."

"I don't think that's necessarily a bad thing" I commented pensively. "But we should be careful of doing anything too forward." I hesitated. "You should know that elves mate for life. If we were to ever...be consummate, I would not be capable of taking another."

"I'd like to marry you" he said abruptly after a moment of silence. I fumbled with Arod's reigns in suprise. Glancing over to meet his gaze, I saw he was utterly serious. "I don't want this to be some sort of fling, Legolas."

"And I just told you that there's no way it can be" I replied patiently. "But...Aragorn, is it even possible?"

He sighed and seemed to regain himself.

"We promised we'd not worry about this until after the war" he muttered. "But if I'm to keep groping you around every corner it's going to get very hard."

"You paint it as if I'm some daft-headed maiden with no self-control and little brain" I smirked. "Keep in mind Aragorn, that if I did not want you to kiss me I'd just throw you across the room."

"Yes, you're awfully romantic" he groaned. "I can't promise you I can slow down." He looked sternly at me. "You must employ violence if I'm too forward."

"Oh, I'm not going to stop you" I said lightly. "You're just going to have to control yourself."

"That's hardly fair!"

Grinning, I spurred Arod forward, closing theh space between us and Shadowfax. Aragorn gave chase and I laughed, my heart lightened by love and the thought that no matter how dark the future, I would always have a light at my side. Therefore, I missed the concerned glances that Gandalf threw at us while Gimli chuckled along. And when we came across Merry and Pippin at the White Tower, I looked not to the thought of death and destruction, but the hopeful repose that comes in its wake.

Author's Note: You probably noticed that I skipped over the entire Battle of Helm's Deep. I think everyone pretty much knows what happened there, and I'm sure you don't want a retelling. However, if you think it is utterly terrible that I've thrown it over, let me know and I'll see what I can do about going back and writing an excerpt. Yes, I gave you some lemons. Like half a lemon. I really needed Aragorn to discuss how they were going to handle their desires and accomplish the quest. I know they did it before but postponing everything about their relationship until after the Battle at the Black Gate seemed hugely melodramatic. I can't promise that it's going to be in every chapter but I like to spice things up every once in a while. I'm going to go ahead and caution you again that there is going to be detailed...sex in this fic. It'll take a while, but as I said in the first chapter, I don't skim. There will be multiple scenes, and I'm going to provide a drop-off point, for when readers who like to keep things T-rated can choose to walk away. I'm also providing a drop-off point for the m-preg (yes that is still happening). On a better point, the Aowyn is not happening. I just can't do it. Anyways, poor Gleothain and Leofwyn. I wish them the best in life. I'm not sure if this is the last time you'll hear from then or not. You probably noticed that I let Gimli ride Shadowfax, that would be a big no-no in the 'real' Tolkein-verse. Also, I'm a little lost on where they went after picking Merry and Pippin up at Isegard? I think it was back to Edoras but I'm not 100% positive. I've been a little stressed about this story, as I feel I've not been doing as well in the last chapters. I went back through the book but I'm wanting to take it by movie. As always, thanks for reading. Gandalf will be giving his two-cents in the next chapter so keep your eyes peeled.

R&R