Author's Notes: Whoo, final chapter! I won't lie, I've had major trouble writing this one, as I kind of get into the position of not knowing how I wanted it to end. I didn't want to upset the Aragorn/Legolas fans by denying them a happy ending, but at the same time I didn't want to render Legolas' love for Boromir meaningless. I think I've decided an ending which won't piss anyone off too much, but that's for you all to decide.
I've cut a lot of corners in this chapter. By that, I mean I've cut out a few major parts of the film to gain some momentum. You'll see what I mean towards the end of the chapter. I apologise for this, but I'm sure you've all seen the film enough to fill in the gaps *g*.
There will be no sequel, in case any of you are wondering, but it would be nice if you reviewed to tell me what you thought of the story in general...
Anyway, I hope you all enjoy this final chapter. I know I've enjoyed writing it!
Chapter 10
Aragorn may have made mistakes in his past, but there were none he regretted quite so much as falling in love with Legolas. It seemed irrational to him that he had let himself do so when the fates were so determinedly against him. How he wished that he had never met the fair elf, never heard that soft voice speak his name, never seen how ravishingly beautiful he was when he fought. Aragorn was fully aware that his love had now taken the form of something resembling an obsession, and for that he was deeply ashamed of himself. As he stared at Legolas waking a short distance ahead of him, he imagined what it would be like to be able to kiss him, without the elf fighting back, what it would be like to hold him throughout the night, to never have to let go. Immediately, he felt disgusted with himself. His mind should have been on the quest, on rescuing the Hobbits, but instead he was consumed with these feelings of passion that threatened to destroy any willpower he might have had left.
Aragorn looked around quickly for Gimli, and saw with relief that he was some distance ahead, no doubt trying to prove his strength and self-worth. He smiled fondly, but it did not last long as his gaze fell once again on Legolas, who had looked round to stare at Aragorn. He felt his insides turn cold, but he cast the feeling of apprehension aside as he closed the distance between the two of them.
"It will be night soon, and I do not feel at ease in these woods. I sense danger close by." The elf ran his hand down the rough bark of a tree. "The trees, they tremble."
"Orcs?"
"Aye, I suspect so." Legolas looked closely at Aragorn. "We should be on our guard." It was a subtle dig, and Aragorn knew it. Aragorn may have proved his worth as a leader, but his concentration on the actual quest was starting to fall dangerously low.
"And I am willing to do just that Legolas, but I must ask you if you have thought any more of my..." Aragorn faltered, at a loss of words. Infatuation? Proposition? Dare he say love?
"I can see how much this troubles you, Estel, but I do not know how to make this decision. I cannot deny that I have feelings for you, but I cannot simply give my heart to you after Boromir's possession of it. Perhaps you do not realise how much I truly loved him, for if you did you would not pressure me so."
"I cannot pretend to know the depths of your heart, Legolas, but if you loved him a fraction of the amount I hold for you, I can truly believe that you must suffer from perpetual heartbreak."
"Perhaps heartbreak at first." Legolas looked out in the distance, his eyes curiously vacant. "But now, something else. I do not know how to describe it. A dull pain, and a feeling of doubt. I sometimes wonder if he loved me as much as he said he did, as much as I loved him." He looked across to Aragorn. "I do not believe he even spoke of me in his dying words. Is that so?"
Aragorn faltered, his mind suddenly flooded with a hundred different answers. It could end here, and Legolas would be his, if he lied. But would that cause the Elf even more heartache?
"I... I do not remember."
"Aye, that is what I thought you'd say." Legolas answered sadly. Aragorn was about to speak again, to try and justify himself, when there was a loud cry ahead of them from Gimli, and the terrible sound of many orcs squealing in anticipation of a battle. Legolas had darted forward before Aragorn had even registered the sound, but it was not long before he followed, throwing himself into the heart of the fight, trying desperately to forget himself, to forget Legolas, to forget Arwen. And for a short time, with the blood cascading across his face like a grotesque waterfall, he almost could.
***
//Lothlorien may have been a place of eternal light, but for Boromir it held a darkness that crept into his very soul and clouded everything that he looked at, everything he touched. The lady Galadriel had looked deep into him, far deeper than he would have even looked himself, and he knew that what she saw was his weaknesses, his lust for the ring, and for Legolas, which now seemed one in the same thing.
Legolas came to him that night, luminous in a silver tunic that paled even so next to the golden hair that rested on its shoulders. Boromir drew his breath in, scarcely unable to believe that this beautiful creature was his, and his alone. He often asked himself how long this would be for. When he grew old and frail, would Legolas still want him, still yearn for him like he did now? In this dangerously beautiful dwelling, where Legolas was the most beautiful thing by far, it seemed almost ridiculous to believe so.
"Once again you are troubled, son of Gondor. Tell me why this may be so, and I will try to make you forget." His soft voice engulfed Boromir's senses, driving him to a maddening need.
"The lady of the woods spoke to me, Legolas. When we met her, she seemed to intrude in my very mind."
"As she did me."
"You felt it too?" Boromir stared at him, suddenly filled with hope that he had not been alone in garnering her endlessly probing questions."
"Aye, she gave me hope. She told me that I had to remain strong, to protect the Fellowship." Legolas smiled at him, his eyes filled with trust. "And you?"
"Aye, the same, the same." Boromir nodded, too quickly. If Legolas noticed his discomfort, he hid the fact well.
"Is Lothlorien not the most beautiful place you have ever come across in your travels?" Legolas looked around him, at the glistening lights and high, solid trees that surrounded them. "I should very much like to return here, when the quest is done." He looked back at Boromir shyly. "With you, of course."
"When the quest is done..." Boromir pondered thoughtfully. "And when will this be, sweet prince?"
"Who can tell? Years or months, it matters not. As long as we are together, that is enough for me."
"But only when the ring is destroyed?"
"Aye, of course."
"Why must that be so, Legolas? There is a way we could return here much sooner."
"There is no other way, Boromir, and in your heart you know that to be true." Legolas approached Boromir closer, resting a hand on the man's arm. "You heard what Elrond and Gandalf said at the council, the ring cannot..."
"Aye, at the council. But now Gandalf is dead, and for what? Before this quest is through, how many more lives of the fellowship will be claimed? We could prevent it, Legolas, if only Frodo would lend the ring to the city of Gondor..."
"Boromir, you speak madness. The ring would you consume you were it in your possession. It would consume anyone who tried to use it."
"I would not let it!" Boromir suddenly raised his voice, and Legolas responded by taking a step back, his eyes narrowed. "Do not fear me, Legolas. Were I to have the ring, I would be able to elude death. We could be together..."
"Nay, Boromir, that could never be so. Listen to yourself! You speak as if you could control the ring. But it has corrupted and blackened the soul of everybody who has tried to wield it. I know you are strong, Boromir, but no man is stronger than the force of evil."
"Perhaps you do not wish for us to be together." Boromir gripped Legolas' wrist tightly, pulling the elf close towards him. "Perhaps you do not love me as much as you say you do..."
"Boromir, I beg you, do not say this, do not act like this. You see how the ring has already begun to corrupt you? You do not even have it in your possession, yet still it works its evil. I love you, Boromir, more than I can tell you, more than you'd believe, I warrant. You do not need the ring to make me love you anymore, because I would not be able to." Legolas suddenly pulled Boromir into a hungry, desperate kiss that lasted until Boromir pulled away, dazed.
"Legolas?" He looked at the elf disbelievingly. "I am sorry, my prince. I forgot myself..."
"I know, I know..." Legolas shook his head to silence him. "It matters not. I know you are a noble man, Boromir. We will forget this ever happened, that this conversation ever took place."
"By the Gods, what did I do to deserve you?" Boromir whispered. "I will never doubt your love again."
***
It should have ended there, Boromir realised. It should have ended with that encounter, with that passionate embrace. His obsession should have gone no further than Legolas, for that was understandable, and evidently allowed, while his obsession with the ring was so obviously not. But as they left Lothlorien, the ring played heavily on his mind. He had long convinced himself that he would lose Legolas as soon as the ring was destroyed, although he could not explain his reasoning, or justification behind this. The ring constantly teased him, spoke his name, came to him in his dreams. He saw visions of himself as the king of Gondor, with Legolas by his side, his eternal lover and partner. But when he woke up, his rank and his power fell by the wayside, and once again he was simply Boromir, son of Gondor, a human that would die whilst the beautiful elf by his side endured.
As they travelled down the great winding river, away from the protection that Lothlorien had temporarily provided, Boromir's eyes travelled more and more to the Hobbit Frodo, and more specifically to the chain around his neck, to the ring that hung loosely from it. His hands grew sweaty from clamping them into fists, resisting the call of the ring, the call of his name, which permeated deep into his soul.
Boromir tried to think of other things, to think of Legolas, but he could not think of Legolas without thinking of the ring. It was madness that the two had become interchangeable, but he had convinced himself that Legolas would never be truly his until he had possession of the ring. Despite how adamantly, and how prettily, Legolas protested otherwise, Boromir could not lead himself to believe that their relationship would ever be anything more than a physical one.
The fear began to mount in Boromir's stomach as their journey down the river came to an end, and they pulled up their boats into the small bay. As Frodo climbed out of the boat, Boromir had to physically resist the urge to snatch it from there and then. It would be so easy, so unfathomably simple to grab it. Once he had it, who would challenge him? Aragorn would, of course, but not for long. Not once he realised how much was at stake. Gondor was at stake. Surely Aragorn would understand that? And Legolas... would he resist once Boromir had it? Perhaps he wouldn't. Perhaps he would realise how much the two needed it, if they were to be together.
But he could not take the ring in front of the others, not in full view. He had to be alone with Frodo, to try and convince him. There was no other way. And so, when he saw Frodo wander off, as he so often did, on his own, Boromir followed. His happiness, his honour depended on the ring. There was no other way.
***
In many ways, the battle was over, and darkness had prevailed. As Aragorn ran with all his speed to Boromir's side, and knelt down beside him, taking in the weathered, pained features and the thick red blood oozing from the heavyset chest, he realised just how terrible the ring's power had become. It was because of this power that Boromir lay here, fallen in battle, unable to repent for his wrong doings. It was the first time that Aragorn could look on his fellow man with no malice and no jealousy. For once, all he felt was a deep sense of sympathy, and utter grief that this once noble man had now fallen.
Boromir spoke of the White City, of his regret at trying to take the ring, of his respect for Aragorn. But he did not mention Legolas, and Aragorn wondered whose benefit that was for. He wondered briefly if Boromir was purposely avoiding the subject so that Aragorn would not have the right to take his place at Legolas' side once he was gone, but the reasoning behind that seemed so petty, so utterly shallow, that he quickly discarded it from his mind. Perhaps Legolas did not mean as much to Boromir as Aragorn had first thought. Perhaps it was as simple as that.
He was aware of Legolas running up behind him, of the elf stopping dead when he saw the scene in front of him. Aragorn did not need to look at him to picture the pain that would be etched on his fair face.
As Boromir's words grew fainter, and his time elapsed ever more rapidly, Aragorn took the man in his arms, wanting him to know how much he respected him, how much love he held for him, even if he had possessed what Aragorn had always wanted, and had done so with an unrelenting sense of self-righteousness that had isolated all three of them. But as Aragorn lowered his head to kiss him, he finally understood that Boromir's love for the elf was purer than he had ever realised. For it was during that chaste kiss that he heard the word 'Legolas' on the dying man's last breath.//
***
The attack from the orcs had been short and relatively painless; Aragorn, Legolas and Gimli had managed to work their way through them with startling speed, but where a pack of orcs lurked, there were sure to be more close by, and the three of them were all on their guard as the darkness started to close in for the night. They walked for a few more hours, paying no heed to the dark, but fatigue eventually began to set in, and Aragorn called off the travelling for the night.
"I will take first watch." He told them. "Legolas, you second, Gimli third." The tone of his voice informed them that this would not be a matter open to debate, and the two of them nodded quickly, as they set up camp for the night. The dark engulfed them, but setting up a fire would be too dangerous, as it would only draw attention to themselves. As Legolas and Gimli settled down for the night, Aragorn patrolled the grounds nearby, his eyes watchful but his mind elsewhere. It was where it always was during the night; occupied with thoughts of Legolas. He tried desperately to pull away from those thoughts, to cast his concentration on other matters, especially on Arwen, but nothing else held resonance with him.
A branch snapped underfoot near by him, and he spun around, his hand hovering over the hilt of his sword. He relaxed, albeit only slightly, when he saw that it was Legolas.
"Why do you not sleep? You seem as if you could use it." He commented. Legolas shook his head, his golden hair falling softly around his face.
"I would not sleep tonight, Aragorn. My mind is filled with other..." he paused, frowning, "matters."
"Indeed? And what would those matters be?"
"Do not act coy, Aragorn, you know what. How could it be anything else?"
Aragorn knew that the words shouldn't have affected him, but they did. It was comforting, rewarding even, to know that the elf was thinking about him, about what could be. It meant that he did have feelings for him, no matter how deeply they were buried.
"Have you reached a decision yet, Legolas? Because if you have not, I would not have you torture me further with your constant indecisiveness."
"I torture you?" Legolas gave a small, half smile. "I do not believe that I was the one to initiate this."
"Then you know so little." Aragorn shook his head. "You initiated this the moment I first saw you. Just by being you, it was already initiated."
"You have loved me for that long?" Legolas stared at him thoughtfully.
"Aye, of course. To see you is to fall in love with you, my prince. Nobody compares to you."
"Not even Arwen?"
"Nay, not even Arwen." Aragorn sighed, all of a sudden realising that he needed to be honest now, for he might never get this chance again. "Arwen means little to me, Legolas. I am bound to her because she has made it so. She would give up her immortality for me, and I think she has done this so I will not leave her. But if you ask it of me, I would choose you. I will tell her the truth, tell her that I am in love with someone else, and she will have to understand."
"And if I do not ask it of you?"
"Then there is nothing I can do. I will stay with Arwen, and love her as much as I can. But in my heart, I will always yearn for you." Aragorn approached Legolas, and put his hand underneath his chin, lifting it up so the elf looked at him. "What would you have me do, Legolas? What do you want?"
"I want..." Legolas shut his eyes, sighing wistfully. "I want Boromir. But I cannot have him, and I fear if I choose you, I will be living a lie. I do not think it is fair on you if I fool myself into believing I can love you as anything more than a friend."
"You speak of Boromir as if he were some kind of superior being, as if he were the only one worthy of your love. What was it about him that made him worthy of such a gift?"
"I do not know." Legolas shook his head, pulling away from Aragorn's touch. "I cannot see it anymore. Already I forget his face. But I remember my love for him. I still hold that true, if nothing else." He looked back at Aragorn. "He could not have been the man I thought he was, because I never would have imagined he would try to take the ring. I was aware that he wanted it, but I believed he was strong enough to resist. I thought that I would be enough for him, but that was not so. In the end, I do not think he even thought of me. Once the ring took its hold on him, I think he abandoned the idea of loving me completely."
"He did not." Aragorn said, before he even realised he was saying it. Legolas looked at him quizzically.
"How do you know?"
Aragorn sighed, wishing that this conversation had never taken place, wishing that he could hold in the secret that he knew he must eventually reveal. Once he told Legolas, the possibility of them being together seemed even more unfeasible. But there could be no more secrets now, not when there was so much at stake. "On his dying breath, he said one word, and one word alone. I told you I did not remember it because I didn't want you to believe how much he loved you. But I cannot conceal this any longer."
"What did he say?" Legolas asked him apprehensively.
"Legolas." Aragorn closed his eyes as he spoke the name, remembering how Boromir had said it, the love that had been so evident, even in that laboured breath.
Legolas was staring at him as he opened his eyes again. "Is this true?"
"Aye."
"And you never thought to tell me?"
"Legolas, I was scared. I thought, better to let you think that he did not love you as you did him. Better to let you live your life with new hope, with the promise of better things to come."
"And at last you are honest with me, Aragorn." Legolas blinked back tears, and turned his back on the man as he wiped them away. "I would not have thought it possible."
"I never intended to lie to you. But when you asked me earlier whether he mentioned you, I panicked. Legolas, I am not perfect, and I do not pretend to be. I have the love of an elf, and I am ungrateful for that. By all accounts, I am treacherous and unworthy of the love of anybody."
"Yes, you are." Legolas turned back round to face him, his head held high with dignity. "But that does not stop me from wanting you." And with that, he placed a soft kiss on Aragorn's lips. The man stepped back, startled.
"Why did you...?"
"Aragorn, I loved Boromir with all my heart, but I cannot live in eternal misery for the rest of eternity. Now I know that Boromir truly loved me, I think I can believe that he would not want me to spend the rest of my life alone. You have been shrouded in mystery and shadows for all the time I have known you, but now you have been honest that shadow has lifted."
"You mean there is a chance for us?" Aragorn asked, scarcely able to believe that he was really hearing this, that he would not wake up soon, and realise it had been some kind of beautiful dream.
"A chance, yes. If the fates will have it so, we may start anew. I do not want to suffer this eternal agony. I want to feel alive once more, to feel loved."
"Oh Legolas, I can make you feel loved." Aragorn smiled. "You do not need to ask that of me, it is already done."
"And the lady Arwen?"
"I will tell her the truth. There is nothing more I can do." Aragorn put his hands on Legolas' waist and pulled the elf towards him. "But I do not wish to speak of Arwen any longer. We have each other now, Legolas, and that provides me with the courage to do anything I set my heart to. Even to do this..."
He pulled Legolas into a passionate kiss, which neither of them broke off this time. Legolas had been right, Aragorn decided. He had not been able to see past the shadows that clouded his mind and his soul. But now there was an eternal light, and Aragorn would never see darkness again. Legolas was the only light he could ever need.
I've cut a lot of corners in this chapter. By that, I mean I've cut out a few major parts of the film to gain some momentum. You'll see what I mean towards the end of the chapter. I apologise for this, but I'm sure you've all seen the film enough to fill in the gaps *g*.
There will be no sequel, in case any of you are wondering, but it would be nice if you reviewed to tell me what you thought of the story in general...
Anyway, I hope you all enjoy this final chapter. I know I've enjoyed writing it!
Chapter 10
Aragorn may have made mistakes in his past, but there were none he regretted quite so much as falling in love with Legolas. It seemed irrational to him that he had let himself do so when the fates were so determinedly against him. How he wished that he had never met the fair elf, never heard that soft voice speak his name, never seen how ravishingly beautiful he was when he fought. Aragorn was fully aware that his love had now taken the form of something resembling an obsession, and for that he was deeply ashamed of himself. As he stared at Legolas waking a short distance ahead of him, he imagined what it would be like to be able to kiss him, without the elf fighting back, what it would be like to hold him throughout the night, to never have to let go. Immediately, he felt disgusted with himself. His mind should have been on the quest, on rescuing the Hobbits, but instead he was consumed with these feelings of passion that threatened to destroy any willpower he might have had left.
Aragorn looked around quickly for Gimli, and saw with relief that he was some distance ahead, no doubt trying to prove his strength and self-worth. He smiled fondly, but it did not last long as his gaze fell once again on Legolas, who had looked round to stare at Aragorn. He felt his insides turn cold, but he cast the feeling of apprehension aside as he closed the distance between the two of them.
"It will be night soon, and I do not feel at ease in these woods. I sense danger close by." The elf ran his hand down the rough bark of a tree. "The trees, they tremble."
"Orcs?"
"Aye, I suspect so." Legolas looked closely at Aragorn. "We should be on our guard." It was a subtle dig, and Aragorn knew it. Aragorn may have proved his worth as a leader, but his concentration on the actual quest was starting to fall dangerously low.
"And I am willing to do just that Legolas, but I must ask you if you have thought any more of my..." Aragorn faltered, at a loss of words. Infatuation? Proposition? Dare he say love?
"I can see how much this troubles you, Estel, but I do not know how to make this decision. I cannot deny that I have feelings for you, but I cannot simply give my heart to you after Boromir's possession of it. Perhaps you do not realise how much I truly loved him, for if you did you would not pressure me so."
"I cannot pretend to know the depths of your heart, Legolas, but if you loved him a fraction of the amount I hold for you, I can truly believe that you must suffer from perpetual heartbreak."
"Perhaps heartbreak at first." Legolas looked out in the distance, his eyes curiously vacant. "But now, something else. I do not know how to describe it. A dull pain, and a feeling of doubt. I sometimes wonder if he loved me as much as he said he did, as much as I loved him." He looked across to Aragorn. "I do not believe he even spoke of me in his dying words. Is that so?"
Aragorn faltered, his mind suddenly flooded with a hundred different answers. It could end here, and Legolas would be his, if he lied. But would that cause the Elf even more heartache?
"I... I do not remember."
"Aye, that is what I thought you'd say." Legolas answered sadly. Aragorn was about to speak again, to try and justify himself, when there was a loud cry ahead of them from Gimli, and the terrible sound of many orcs squealing in anticipation of a battle. Legolas had darted forward before Aragorn had even registered the sound, but it was not long before he followed, throwing himself into the heart of the fight, trying desperately to forget himself, to forget Legolas, to forget Arwen. And for a short time, with the blood cascading across his face like a grotesque waterfall, he almost could.
***
//Lothlorien may have been a place of eternal light, but for Boromir it held a darkness that crept into his very soul and clouded everything that he looked at, everything he touched. The lady Galadriel had looked deep into him, far deeper than he would have even looked himself, and he knew that what she saw was his weaknesses, his lust for the ring, and for Legolas, which now seemed one in the same thing.
Legolas came to him that night, luminous in a silver tunic that paled even so next to the golden hair that rested on its shoulders. Boromir drew his breath in, scarcely unable to believe that this beautiful creature was his, and his alone. He often asked himself how long this would be for. When he grew old and frail, would Legolas still want him, still yearn for him like he did now? In this dangerously beautiful dwelling, where Legolas was the most beautiful thing by far, it seemed almost ridiculous to believe so.
"Once again you are troubled, son of Gondor. Tell me why this may be so, and I will try to make you forget." His soft voice engulfed Boromir's senses, driving him to a maddening need.
"The lady of the woods spoke to me, Legolas. When we met her, she seemed to intrude in my very mind."
"As she did me."
"You felt it too?" Boromir stared at him, suddenly filled with hope that he had not been alone in garnering her endlessly probing questions."
"Aye, she gave me hope. She told me that I had to remain strong, to protect the Fellowship." Legolas smiled at him, his eyes filled with trust. "And you?"
"Aye, the same, the same." Boromir nodded, too quickly. If Legolas noticed his discomfort, he hid the fact well.
"Is Lothlorien not the most beautiful place you have ever come across in your travels?" Legolas looked around him, at the glistening lights and high, solid trees that surrounded them. "I should very much like to return here, when the quest is done." He looked back at Boromir shyly. "With you, of course."
"When the quest is done..." Boromir pondered thoughtfully. "And when will this be, sweet prince?"
"Who can tell? Years or months, it matters not. As long as we are together, that is enough for me."
"But only when the ring is destroyed?"
"Aye, of course."
"Why must that be so, Legolas? There is a way we could return here much sooner."
"There is no other way, Boromir, and in your heart you know that to be true." Legolas approached Boromir closer, resting a hand on the man's arm. "You heard what Elrond and Gandalf said at the council, the ring cannot..."
"Aye, at the council. But now Gandalf is dead, and for what? Before this quest is through, how many more lives of the fellowship will be claimed? We could prevent it, Legolas, if only Frodo would lend the ring to the city of Gondor..."
"Boromir, you speak madness. The ring would you consume you were it in your possession. It would consume anyone who tried to use it."
"I would not let it!" Boromir suddenly raised his voice, and Legolas responded by taking a step back, his eyes narrowed. "Do not fear me, Legolas. Were I to have the ring, I would be able to elude death. We could be together..."
"Nay, Boromir, that could never be so. Listen to yourself! You speak as if you could control the ring. But it has corrupted and blackened the soul of everybody who has tried to wield it. I know you are strong, Boromir, but no man is stronger than the force of evil."
"Perhaps you do not wish for us to be together." Boromir gripped Legolas' wrist tightly, pulling the elf close towards him. "Perhaps you do not love me as much as you say you do..."
"Boromir, I beg you, do not say this, do not act like this. You see how the ring has already begun to corrupt you? You do not even have it in your possession, yet still it works its evil. I love you, Boromir, more than I can tell you, more than you'd believe, I warrant. You do not need the ring to make me love you anymore, because I would not be able to." Legolas suddenly pulled Boromir into a hungry, desperate kiss that lasted until Boromir pulled away, dazed.
"Legolas?" He looked at the elf disbelievingly. "I am sorry, my prince. I forgot myself..."
"I know, I know..." Legolas shook his head to silence him. "It matters not. I know you are a noble man, Boromir. We will forget this ever happened, that this conversation ever took place."
"By the Gods, what did I do to deserve you?" Boromir whispered. "I will never doubt your love again."
***
It should have ended there, Boromir realised. It should have ended with that encounter, with that passionate embrace. His obsession should have gone no further than Legolas, for that was understandable, and evidently allowed, while his obsession with the ring was so obviously not. But as they left Lothlorien, the ring played heavily on his mind. He had long convinced himself that he would lose Legolas as soon as the ring was destroyed, although he could not explain his reasoning, or justification behind this. The ring constantly teased him, spoke his name, came to him in his dreams. He saw visions of himself as the king of Gondor, with Legolas by his side, his eternal lover and partner. But when he woke up, his rank and his power fell by the wayside, and once again he was simply Boromir, son of Gondor, a human that would die whilst the beautiful elf by his side endured.
As they travelled down the great winding river, away from the protection that Lothlorien had temporarily provided, Boromir's eyes travelled more and more to the Hobbit Frodo, and more specifically to the chain around his neck, to the ring that hung loosely from it. His hands grew sweaty from clamping them into fists, resisting the call of the ring, the call of his name, which permeated deep into his soul.
Boromir tried to think of other things, to think of Legolas, but he could not think of Legolas without thinking of the ring. It was madness that the two had become interchangeable, but he had convinced himself that Legolas would never be truly his until he had possession of the ring. Despite how adamantly, and how prettily, Legolas protested otherwise, Boromir could not lead himself to believe that their relationship would ever be anything more than a physical one.
The fear began to mount in Boromir's stomach as their journey down the river came to an end, and they pulled up their boats into the small bay. As Frodo climbed out of the boat, Boromir had to physically resist the urge to snatch it from there and then. It would be so easy, so unfathomably simple to grab it. Once he had it, who would challenge him? Aragorn would, of course, but not for long. Not once he realised how much was at stake. Gondor was at stake. Surely Aragorn would understand that? And Legolas... would he resist once Boromir had it? Perhaps he wouldn't. Perhaps he would realise how much the two needed it, if they were to be together.
But he could not take the ring in front of the others, not in full view. He had to be alone with Frodo, to try and convince him. There was no other way. And so, when he saw Frodo wander off, as he so often did, on his own, Boromir followed. His happiness, his honour depended on the ring. There was no other way.
***
In many ways, the battle was over, and darkness had prevailed. As Aragorn ran with all his speed to Boromir's side, and knelt down beside him, taking in the weathered, pained features and the thick red blood oozing from the heavyset chest, he realised just how terrible the ring's power had become. It was because of this power that Boromir lay here, fallen in battle, unable to repent for his wrong doings. It was the first time that Aragorn could look on his fellow man with no malice and no jealousy. For once, all he felt was a deep sense of sympathy, and utter grief that this once noble man had now fallen.
Boromir spoke of the White City, of his regret at trying to take the ring, of his respect for Aragorn. But he did not mention Legolas, and Aragorn wondered whose benefit that was for. He wondered briefly if Boromir was purposely avoiding the subject so that Aragorn would not have the right to take his place at Legolas' side once he was gone, but the reasoning behind that seemed so petty, so utterly shallow, that he quickly discarded it from his mind. Perhaps Legolas did not mean as much to Boromir as Aragorn had first thought. Perhaps it was as simple as that.
He was aware of Legolas running up behind him, of the elf stopping dead when he saw the scene in front of him. Aragorn did not need to look at him to picture the pain that would be etched on his fair face.
As Boromir's words grew fainter, and his time elapsed ever more rapidly, Aragorn took the man in his arms, wanting him to know how much he respected him, how much love he held for him, even if he had possessed what Aragorn had always wanted, and had done so with an unrelenting sense of self-righteousness that had isolated all three of them. But as Aragorn lowered his head to kiss him, he finally understood that Boromir's love for the elf was purer than he had ever realised. For it was during that chaste kiss that he heard the word 'Legolas' on the dying man's last breath.//
***
The attack from the orcs had been short and relatively painless; Aragorn, Legolas and Gimli had managed to work their way through them with startling speed, but where a pack of orcs lurked, there were sure to be more close by, and the three of them were all on their guard as the darkness started to close in for the night. They walked for a few more hours, paying no heed to the dark, but fatigue eventually began to set in, and Aragorn called off the travelling for the night.
"I will take first watch." He told them. "Legolas, you second, Gimli third." The tone of his voice informed them that this would not be a matter open to debate, and the two of them nodded quickly, as they set up camp for the night. The dark engulfed them, but setting up a fire would be too dangerous, as it would only draw attention to themselves. As Legolas and Gimli settled down for the night, Aragorn patrolled the grounds nearby, his eyes watchful but his mind elsewhere. It was where it always was during the night; occupied with thoughts of Legolas. He tried desperately to pull away from those thoughts, to cast his concentration on other matters, especially on Arwen, but nothing else held resonance with him.
A branch snapped underfoot near by him, and he spun around, his hand hovering over the hilt of his sword. He relaxed, albeit only slightly, when he saw that it was Legolas.
"Why do you not sleep? You seem as if you could use it." He commented. Legolas shook his head, his golden hair falling softly around his face.
"I would not sleep tonight, Aragorn. My mind is filled with other..." he paused, frowning, "matters."
"Indeed? And what would those matters be?"
"Do not act coy, Aragorn, you know what. How could it be anything else?"
Aragorn knew that the words shouldn't have affected him, but they did. It was comforting, rewarding even, to know that the elf was thinking about him, about what could be. It meant that he did have feelings for him, no matter how deeply they were buried.
"Have you reached a decision yet, Legolas? Because if you have not, I would not have you torture me further with your constant indecisiveness."
"I torture you?" Legolas gave a small, half smile. "I do not believe that I was the one to initiate this."
"Then you know so little." Aragorn shook his head. "You initiated this the moment I first saw you. Just by being you, it was already initiated."
"You have loved me for that long?" Legolas stared at him thoughtfully.
"Aye, of course. To see you is to fall in love with you, my prince. Nobody compares to you."
"Not even Arwen?"
"Nay, not even Arwen." Aragorn sighed, all of a sudden realising that he needed to be honest now, for he might never get this chance again. "Arwen means little to me, Legolas. I am bound to her because she has made it so. She would give up her immortality for me, and I think she has done this so I will not leave her. But if you ask it of me, I would choose you. I will tell her the truth, tell her that I am in love with someone else, and she will have to understand."
"And if I do not ask it of you?"
"Then there is nothing I can do. I will stay with Arwen, and love her as much as I can. But in my heart, I will always yearn for you." Aragorn approached Legolas, and put his hand underneath his chin, lifting it up so the elf looked at him. "What would you have me do, Legolas? What do you want?"
"I want..." Legolas shut his eyes, sighing wistfully. "I want Boromir. But I cannot have him, and I fear if I choose you, I will be living a lie. I do not think it is fair on you if I fool myself into believing I can love you as anything more than a friend."
"You speak of Boromir as if he were some kind of superior being, as if he were the only one worthy of your love. What was it about him that made him worthy of such a gift?"
"I do not know." Legolas shook his head, pulling away from Aragorn's touch. "I cannot see it anymore. Already I forget his face. But I remember my love for him. I still hold that true, if nothing else." He looked back at Aragorn. "He could not have been the man I thought he was, because I never would have imagined he would try to take the ring. I was aware that he wanted it, but I believed he was strong enough to resist. I thought that I would be enough for him, but that was not so. In the end, I do not think he even thought of me. Once the ring took its hold on him, I think he abandoned the idea of loving me completely."
"He did not." Aragorn said, before he even realised he was saying it. Legolas looked at him quizzically.
"How do you know?"
Aragorn sighed, wishing that this conversation had never taken place, wishing that he could hold in the secret that he knew he must eventually reveal. Once he told Legolas, the possibility of them being together seemed even more unfeasible. But there could be no more secrets now, not when there was so much at stake. "On his dying breath, he said one word, and one word alone. I told you I did not remember it because I didn't want you to believe how much he loved you. But I cannot conceal this any longer."
"What did he say?" Legolas asked him apprehensively.
"Legolas." Aragorn closed his eyes as he spoke the name, remembering how Boromir had said it, the love that had been so evident, even in that laboured breath.
Legolas was staring at him as he opened his eyes again. "Is this true?"
"Aye."
"And you never thought to tell me?"
"Legolas, I was scared. I thought, better to let you think that he did not love you as you did him. Better to let you live your life with new hope, with the promise of better things to come."
"And at last you are honest with me, Aragorn." Legolas blinked back tears, and turned his back on the man as he wiped them away. "I would not have thought it possible."
"I never intended to lie to you. But when you asked me earlier whether he mentioned you, I panicked. Legolas, I am not perfect, and I do not pretend to be. I have the love of an elf, and I am ungrateful for that. By all accounts, I am treacherous and unworthy of the love of anybody."
"Yes, you are." Legolas turned back round to face him, his head held high with dignity. "But that does not stop me from wanting you." And with that, he placed a soft kiss on Aragorn's lips. The man stepped back, startled.
"Why did you...?"
"Aragorn, I loved Boromir with all my heart, but I cannot live in eternal misery for the rest of eternity. Now I know that Boromir truly loved me, I think I can believe that he would not want me to spend the rest of my life alone. You have been shrouded in mystery and shadows for all the time I have known you, but now you have been honest that shadow has lifted."
"You mean there is a chance for us?" Aragorn asked, scarcely able to believe that he was really hearing this, that he would not wake up soon, and realise it had been some kind of beautiful dream.
"A chance, yes. If the fates will have it so, we may start anew. I do not want to suffer this eternal agony. I want to feel alive once more, to feel loved."
"Oh Legolas, I can make you feel loved." Aragorn smiled. "You do not need to ask that of me, it is already done."
"And the lady Arwen?"
"I will tell her the truth. There is nothing more I can do." Aragorn put his hands on Legolas' waist and pulled the elf towards him. "But I do not wish to speak of Arwen any longer. We have each other now, Legolas, and that provides me with the courage to do anything I set my heart to. Even to do this..."
He pulled Legolas into a passionate kiss, which neither of them broke off this time. Legolas had been right, Aragorn decided. He had not been able to see past the shadows that clouded his mind and his soul. But now there was an eternal light, and Aragorn would never see darkness again. Legolas was the only light he could ever need.