Author's Notes: This is the revised Chapter One!!! Yay, I finally got it up! Oh, yeah, and if you somehow missed the big capital letters saying SLASH in the summary, you'd better realize what this is. This is boy falling in love with other boy. So if you don't like, don't read. And I know in the movie Aragorn had brown eyes, but in the book he had gray eyes.

The night is growing colder. I see Gimli tossing in his sleep, muttering to himself. Aragorn is lying with his back to me, and shadow within a shadow. My watch was over some time ago, but I am far too restless to sleep. Besides, a little extra sleep would do Gimli good. Sometimes I worry about him, for he never seems to be fully rested. Of course, none of us are in good spirits, and it may be that the weariness is in his heart, and not his body.

Boromir is dead, Merry and Pippin are captured, and Frodo and Sam have gone to take the Ring to Mordor alone. But this endless chase is starting to tell on the Dwarf, and I fear he is fast losing hope of ever finding the young hobbits.

And Aragorn. Our leader, the bravest of hearts and the strongest of souls, is looking for the light in all this rain. He doesn't say it, but I know he feels responsible for the capture of Merry and Pippin. The burden of grief lies heavy on his shoulders, and he will not let me help him to ease it.

Oh gods, I love him.

His wavy dark hair, his strong, proud face, and his gentle, healer's hands. Everything about him speaks to me in some way. But especially his eyes.

His beautiful gray eyes, the color of storm clouds over the sea. From the first time I saw him I was captivated by his eyes. They were always shifting, swirling with unnamable emotions, subtly changing hues with each mood. So human. So heartbreakingly human.

And when I got to know him, it got immeasurably worse. I started to notice the darkness that shrouded him. His soul had shadows lurking in it's depths. Long forgotten secrets flicker in his gray eyes, like light reflecting off a broken mirror. Perhaps his darkness is why I am drawn to him. I feel the need to ease his heartache and sorrow.

I know he feels compassion, but he seldom shows it. He loves so much and never says a word. It seems he is afraid someone will hurt him if he feels anything. Oh, Aragorn. I'd never hurt you.

He needs someone to care for him, someone who loves him without conditions. Who loves him, not in spite of his faults, but because of his willingness to fix them.

But there is someone who realized this before me, and has captured my Ranger's heart. Arwen. How can I ever compare with her? It doesn't surprise me that they love each other, for they are so similar. They both are dark, deep, and mysterious, separate from the rest of the world.

I know I must never let his know how I feel. I could not bear to see the disgust or rejection in his face. All I will ever have is his friendship, and I will not throw that away for feelings he doesn't return.

But when he looks at me with his devastatingly beautiful eyes, I find it so hard to be content with mere friendship. He has no idea how much every clap on the shoulder, every accidental touch means to me.

I don't know how much more of this I can take, being so close to him and yet unable to tell him how much I care for him. I am like a moth drawn to a dark flame. I would burn up in the ecstasy of telling him I love him.

Softly, I begin to sing. A song of still forests and deep waters, of newborn stars in the midnight sky. A lullaby of my childhood that has always comforted me in the past. Tonight, however, it brings me no peace.

The notes drift up into the cold air, a quiet countermelody to the music of the earth. Soon, I would have to wake up Aragorn for his turn at guard. But for now, at least, I can sit here and pretend. Pretend that there was no Sauron, no Ring. Pretend that Merry and Pippin had not been captured, that Gandalf was still alive.

I could even pretend that I was not hopelessly and completely in love with my captain, my leader, my friend. My Aragorn.