disclaimers: aragorn and legolas are mine. go ahead and believe that, you might find yourself in a mental institution.
a/n: in the movie, aragorn's doubt is portrayed more than in the books, or at least i think so. and even though arwen tried to clear those doubts that reside in the future king's heart, i think aragorn could need some assurance from someone much like himself as well, a warrior in a battlefield that shares his sentiments, or from a trusted friend. and just guess who did i found that could fit that?

again, forgive my spanish. Una Estrella en Oscuridad is supposed to mean A Star in Darkness. online translators aren't really that very much, 100% reliable, so, pardon, pardon, pardon.. correct me if you must. ^___^

thank you to all who reviewed! =)
Y.. thanks for dropping a line here too! nothing's wrong with Things Unspoken. the next part is still being written, that's all. i'm sorry for such long delay. *sheepish grin* it's just that, that fic is sucking out all the little eloquency i've ever had! nah, kidding, i just need more time for that fic. just help me pray for my computer, if she's fine, then i'm fine, i mean my work is fine. -_-

A KING AT LAST__________
part 2: una estrella en oscuridad

Aragorn had not been the most calm and untroubled soul at the time. Leaning on the balcony's rail that overlooked a part of the gardens of the House of Elrond, he had tried to at least place in the back of his mind, if not forget, everything that concerned the ring.

Great would be the days that would come, and great would be their journey. It was today's peril that would be sang in songs, recited in rhymes and verses, and told in stories tomorrow. A fellowship of nine was chosen, and soon will set out on a path unknown and to the very fires of Mordor they'd bravely go.

But that is, if they would survive the long and perilous journey. Also, his hour was drawing near.

He pushed away from the balcony and turned his back to the gardens. It had hurt to just look at its natural beauty knowing they were burdened with such heavy a task on their shoulders. As he turned and leaned back on the balcony's railing, arms crossed at his chest, he saw Legolas, pretty much in the same position as him, leaning on the doors leading inside, head bowed as if waiting for recognition.

He was right. As soon as his eyes were laid on the Elf, Legolas turned to him and walked over, giving a nod as a silent greeting. He took his place beside Aragorn and looked at the gardens the Man had turned away from.

Aragorn looked at him in question, and then when the Legolas said nothing, he relaxed once more and bowed his head, closing his eyes. He was glad that Legolas had no very urgent news to tell, as he had first thought, but was there for mere companionship. At that moment, he stopped himself from thinking and worrying and just let himself feel the world around him, the cool night air calming him.

"It's nice to let yourself go, even once in a while," Legolas said softly, as he, too, had his eyes closed, taking in as much air his lungs could hold. "Is it not, Aragorn?" He said, turning his head to the ranger, eyes smiling in playfulness. 'Or would I start practicing myself to get used to calling you Strider?' He continued, adopting the Elvish tongue. He tilted his head to regard him for a while.

Aragorn, shrugging his shoulders, made a sound as he let out a soft puff of air. He looked up at Legolas and gave him a smile. "Nay, my friend. Aragorn is fine as it is." He said, the hesitant smile on his lips.

Legolas studied him for a moment more before asking, 'Is it?' his words still in Elvish.

He had never failed to capture attention when his voice would suddenly shed its playfulness and turn into a more serious, thought-provoking tone. And he proved that he wasn't going to start then as Aragorn was surprised to hear such question and was currently at lost.

'Strider symbolizes your freedom, freedom from responsibilities more than that of a "mere" ranger. Don't act so innocent, Aragorn.' he said, smiling and lightening the mood by also lightening his tone. He turned his back to the gardens as well and jumped up to the rail to perch himself comfortably on it. 'You know the difference I speak of.'

Aragorn felt the corners of his lips slightly turn up. 'Perhaps I do, Legolas.' He said, although doubtfully. Now, he, himself, slipped into Elvish, feeling the change of the two languages, yet couldn't state exactly what that change was. Sometimes the Common Speech seemed so limited, restraint and so.. common while Elvish seemed comforting and secure. There were also times, though much more rare, when they were the other way around.

He uncrossed his arms and his left hand instinctively fingered the hilt of the broken sword resting on the left side of his hip. 'Though I'm afraid my knowledge doesn't include the similarities.' he said.

'Then your knowledge needs to be broadened.' The Elf said, a bit more seriously yet still maintaining his cheerful disposition. It was as if he was a child who knew something that Aragorn did not. 'For any similarities are very evident to me.'

The ranger glanced back at Legolas, seeing him with a grin on his fair face. He just shook his head, amused.

'Then your eyes must deceive you, my friend. Isildur's heir, I am, I was told. Yet I think I lived far too long as a ranger to suddenly come back to.. who, they say.. I really am.' He said, smiling a bit thoughtfully.

'You think much too less of yourself, Aragorn, son of Arathorn.' Legolas answered, shaking his head like a mother would to her doubtful child. 'If I could grant you one gift, I'd grant you the ability to see yourself as others see you.'

Aragorn gave him a side-glance. And in the darkness of the night, Legolas stood out, sitting on the balcony and seemingly glowing in contrast to the dark surroundings. If anyone were to pass by down below, they'd see how the Elf could be likened to a dim candle in a dark room.

'Just so you could see how Aragorn and Strider are one and the same, and how worthy you are of who you "really are."' Legolas thought it was best for Aragorn to actually see the similarities and differences himself as being the King that he would be and the Ranger that he usually was, rather than him pointing it out for him. He wouldn't be helping him in that way.

How Aragorn had wanted to believe those words. Yet try as he might, doubt was still there.

'The same blood runs in my veins being Isildur's heir.' He said. 'The same weakness...'

'You would not fall,' Legolas said, cutting him of, turning, once again, serious. 'For it is in your power to decide your fate unless fate itself withdraws from you.' Such a paradox, a self-contradicting statement, yet it held true, that only someone with wisdom from age could say to him and have him thinking.

'The choice is yours. If you fall, it is but your own doing, your own weakness, not Isildur's or Elendil's. And if you do not, then 'tis your own strength that will carry you to the highest heavens, over the deepest seas, and above the towering mountains.'

The trees rustled as the wind softly blew, and Legolas brought his hand up to place a stray strand of hair behind his ears.

Aragorn had not said anything. The Elf was right. Whatever weakness he might manifest could not be blamed on anyone but himself. It was his way, his own life, that he was walking, and not his ancestors'. Yet at that point, he didn't trust himself enough to be free from any doubts and fears. He wouldn't know what he'd do if the time would come when he, too, would succumb to human weakness, making him no different from his them.

He shook his head then, a superficial effort to rid his mind of the senseless thought and useless worry, as he'd like to believe. He just smiled and turned around once more, folding his arms above the balcony to lean comfortably on them.

'Are you imparting me with wisdom you've acquired for years, old Elf?' Aragorn said, mildly teasing, looking at Legolas through the corner of his eyes.

'And now you jest, Strider.' Legolas exclaimed in amusement, an eyebrow raised. He certainly was amused at how Aragorn could easily slip into different moods as swift as he could change a topic. He let him be. 'I know you know that I am too young to be considered old or ancient or even a walking history book as the Lord Elrond is, and by that I mean no offense.'

Aragorn looked at the Elf for a moment, surprised, then he laughed. Never had he heard anyone voice out a comparison between Elrond and, dare he even think, a history book. Which was, if he might add, very much appropriate! 'You, Legolas, find the most absurd, yet very true comparison I had ever heard in my entire life!'

Legolas let out a soft laugh, more of a chuckle. 'That, my friend, also comes with age.'

The ranger then shook his head, still laughing. Amusing and funny, Legolas was, if he chooses to be.

Setting aside his mirth once his laughter slowly left him, he said, 'When my time comes, and you've gained years enough to be labeled as such, ' He turned to his side to face the Elf, looking up to him. 'I could only hope I'm included in that book, though because of what, I'm not sure I'd want to know.'

Legolas' smile never left his lips yet the graveness of his tone was back. 'I see I am in no position to clear your doubts, for only you, alone, could do that. The least I could do is help you and lift them, even though how barely so.' Then he laughed, the sound melodious and pleasant to anyone near enough to hear. 'I just wish all my standing up during Lord Elrond's council would not go to waste.'

Aragorn turned to look at him. 'You've done much more for me than what I could ever ask of you.' he said in the perfect Elvish and accent he'd learned from living amongst the fair folk. 'You, Bilbo, and even Frodo. You have believed when even I myself do not.'

'Then believe, Aragorn.' Legolas replied, sliding down from his seat to stand on his feet. 'For is it not said that from the ashes a fire shall be woken, and a light from the shadows shall spring?'

Aragorn then felt himself smiling wholeheartedly, a grateful smile that washed all the lines of ages from his face. 'Thank you, old friend.'

Legolas shook his head in dismissal. ''Tis nothing, Dúnadan, Man of the west. Nothing I would not have wanted to do.'

"They are but names, are they not?" Aragorn said, now in Common Speech, as both walked back to the inside corridors of Elrond's house.

At this, Legolas eyes only glinted as he smiled. "Aye, they are."

to be continued..

a/n: i told you before, no intricate plots, no long deep musings and thinking, no action or romance, just plain and simple fics (since they could be solo fics) on aragorn and his identity, his doubt and acceptance. and since i couldn't, for the life of me, separate those two, i threw in a shadow of legolas and aragorn's strong friendship, in this fic at least.
(points up) i hope legolas' youth (at least in comparison to elrond) showed? i really didn't want him to be all gandalf-type and seem to be old. that's why history books, 'ancientness' and elrond popped into my mind. *poof*