Chapter Eleven: Subtle Touch

Aragorn was twitching with nervous energy. He raked shaking hands through his hair and wondered if perhaps a bath would be good idea. Scratched behind his ear and decided against it. Perhaps he should go see the Hobbits?

What was that annoying tapping noise? Aragorn glanced around the room and realized it was his foot hitting against the tiles of the floor. He tried to stop it and failed. This simply would not do, he'd have to find something to occupy himself or surely he would be driven insane…

But what?

~*~*~

Legolas was sitting in Glorfindel's room feeling an entirely different sort of nervousness. He was not anxious to speak with Aragorn, he was anxious because he had to speak with Aragorn.

Glorfindel was watching him tap his fingers in his lap. He watched what must have been the tenth time that Legolas brushed his hair away from his face. With natural grace, he rose from his perch on his bed and approached Legolas who was sitting beside the window on the wooden floor.

"Would you like me to do something with your hair?"

Legolas looked startled. "What?"

"'Tis in your face," Glorfindel said with a smile. "Obviously it is bothering you."

Legolas stilled himself and considered this offer. He brushed his hair away from his face again and smiled. "Yes, I would like that."

Glorfindel smiled at him again, and offered him a hand up. Legolas took the offered hand and their fingers met and clasped about each other. The thin but strong fingers squeezed thinner ones, and Glorfindel wanted to take the time to memorize every detail of those thinner fingers. But the moment had passed and their hands dropped.

~*~*~

Aragorn was still practically twitching. Not that he would admit it to himself. Rangers do not twitch (most of the time, anyway).

This particular Ranger (who most certainly wasn't twitching) found himself roaming Elrond's halls. There wasn't a place in Rivendell that Aragorn didn't know every inch of, which was well enough seeing as he wasn't taking in any of the splendor of the halls.

His mind was wandering faster than his feet and he couldn't help but wonder what was going to happen. He had the resounding image of a beautiful creature staring at the trees, hair blowing in the wind, with eyes the color of mithril and skin that glowed as bright.

He sighed and wondered what time it was.

~*~*~

Glorfindel ran the brush through Legolas's hair once more than set it down. Legolas sat on the floor cross-legged, Glorfindel behind him, his knees brushing Legolas's shoulder blades. The elf lord ran his deft fingers through Legolas hair and gathered several silky strands.

He wove them together intricately until a fishtail was formed. He slipped a green ribbon around the end, then turned to the sides of Legolas's head and made the same braid on a smaller scale. The hair stayed obediently behind his ears.

"There. It should not bother you any longer," Glorfindel said looking over his work.  

Legolas fingered the braids softly then smiled appreciatively at Glorfindel. "Thank you."

"Of course," Glorfindel said, rising.

~*~*~

Elrond managed to find Aragorn wandering aimlessly. "Aragorn, a word."

Aragorn did not stop at his voice. "Aragorn!"

The Ranger turned and looked to see Elrond looking curiously at him. "Oh. I'm sorry did you say something?"

Elrond couldn't help the smile that fluttered upon his lips. "Yes, I did. Come, it is time to speak with Legolas."

Aragorn nodded and turned to follow Elrond. Elrond started an agonizingly slow walk in what Aragorn assumed was the direction of Legolas. "Be careful not to push him," Elrond said.

Aragorn nodded absently, making his stride match Elrond's. Was it really necessary to walk this slowly?

"Remember he is no longer use to social situations."

Another nod.

"Do not expect too much from him, Aragorn."

Nod.

"Good. Here we are then." Elrond raised one hand and knocked softly on the door Aragorn recognized as Glorfindel's. Glorfindel appeared almost instantly on the other side. He smiled first at Elrond and then at Aragorn.

"Legolas," said Glorfindel looking over his shoulder and back into his room. "They are here."

There was a small noise in the background, a cough perhaps, then the shuffling of fabric against fabric. Then there he was, standing at Glorfindel's shoulder with his eyes cast down and his hair in three perfect braids with slim green ribbons tied perfectly around their ends. He was in a different tunic from the one Aragorn had last seen him in; this one was the same green of the ribbons and was obviously well made. Upon his thin legs were a simple pair of brown leggings, and on his slender feet little sandals made of beech-wood.

Elrond nudged Aragorn's shoulder and the latter realized he was staring. He cleared his throat and Glorfindel raised his eyebrows.

"Legolas this is Aragorn, son of Arathron. But you may call him Estel. And Aragorn, this is Legolas. I believe you met before under more trying circumstances?" Elrond said after a few long moments.

Legolas bowed his head a bit then glanced at Glorfindel who smiled and stepped out of his way. With a bit of trepidation, Legolas stepped into the hall. Both Aragorn and Elrond smiled at him. Then Elrond said with a soft smile, "If you will excuse me? Glorfindel, I would like to speak with you."

Glorfindel smiled once more at Legolas then looked to Elrond. "Of course, my lord."

Elrond stepped into Glorfindel's room and the door shut. Aragorn and Legolas were finally alone.

"Hello," Aragorn said trying hard not to stare.

"Hello," Legolas returned, eyes still downcast.

This was definitely off to a good start, Aragorn thought casting a bitter look at that wooden door. "Are you hungry?"

"Nay."

"Oh. What about thirsty?" Aragorn tried hopefully.

"Nay."

Aragorn was about to give up hope of any chance of a good evening when an idea struck him.

"Would you like to take a walk then? Maybe go and see the trees?" Aragorn heaved a tired sigh, and almost started tapping his foot.

Legolas looked up at that, his silver eyes shimmering in the dimmed lights. "I would like that."

Aragorn smiled happily. "Follow me then."

~*~*~

Strange were the Silvan folk of Greenwood, thought Trenarn as he pushed his horse into a faster canter. He was considered a fine messenger by many people (men and elves) and had delivered even more messages then this extensive age. Trenarn had delivered news of death and birth, of joyous and somber nature, of the curious and the straightforward to more recipients then a day's worth of counting would allow. That, however, didn't stop the envoy from extremely disliking the bad news he had to often deliver.

For some reason, the messenger was always blamed at least in part. Elrond, and surely Gandalf, would not be pleased with the message he was to take them. Perhaps Elrond should have seen to Thranduil himself. Or perhaps there was no reasoning with the King on this matter. Either way, things had not gone well.

"Noro lim," Trenarn said softly to the horse, petting his grey mane softly.

~*~*~

"This may be my favorite spot in all of Imladris," Aragorn said with a quirk of his lips. His heart beating faster then what may have been particularly healthy, but he was not really concerned with doing something foolish, the trees always calmed him.

They stood in the middle of group of trees so tall they seemed to kiss the sky with their splayed boughs. Yellow and orange leaves had started to fall from their limbs; some still lingered on the tree waiting for right time to fall. The result of the fallen foliage was the look of fire burning gently on the ground and in the tree branches; the twilight's waning light only heightened the effect.

Legolas looked up at the trees and listened to their little voices speaking of the bittersweet season. Of death and rebirth, of goodbyes and new beginnings, he looked at Aragorn's weathered face, which was glancing around the trees, and he wondered. Anyone who would favor such a place could not be entirely awful.

"How did you find it?" Legolas asked laying one pale hand on the trunk of the smallest tree.

"What?" Aragorn asked looking away from the lingering foliage and to the sparkling eyes of his companion. "Oh this?" He gestured to where they stood.

Legolas nodded and took a step closer to Aragorn. "It was quite by accident," Aragorn said smiling, his eyes dancing. "I was very young, not even five in the way that Man reckons it. My mother had just died and I couldn't recall my father's face. Naturally I was despaired. Lord Elrond had intended to come and speak with me, but I had wandered out of my room in the night."

Legolas watched him very intently, his silver eyes locked on the worn lines of his gentle face. "You were here when you were a child?"

Aragorn nodded, not minding the interruption. "I grew up under Elrond's nurture."

Legolas smiled and waited for the continuation of the story. "It had started to rain," Aragorn said, Legolas looked appeased. "I was very cold and frightened, and I had not been paying attention to where I had passed. I did not know where I was; everything looked the same to my child's eyes. So cold and scared I found this place. Everything was blooming, bright green leaves hung on the trees and little pink flowers sprung from the ground. The leaves and boughs stopped the rain from hitting me, and I slept here on the flowers until Elrond found me in the morrow."

Legolas was looking around again; he let a diminishing smile end on Aragorn. "The trees like you."

"Do they?" Aragorn asked looking up at the tall trunks.

"Very much," Legolas said sitting softly against one of the trees. He leaned into it and the trunk seemed as though it had grown to fit the contours of his back perfectly. "You are unlike the other Men they have encountered in their many years."

"Mm. That is well then, for I like them very much as well," Aragorn said sitting beside Legolas and leaning against another of the trees. It poked oddly at his spine

Legolas made a soft little sound in the back of his throat, then turned his brilliant eyes to Aragorn. "I wanted to thank you."

Aragorn felt a shudder travel down his spine, he swallowed once. "There is no need for that, Legolas."

Legolas looked at his hands, which were playing in the soft soil. "There is need and I do thank you."

"You are welcome, then," Aragorn said watching Legolas's adroit little fingers burrow into the brown dirt.

Legolas looked at him and Aragorn met his eyes, they exchanged feeble smiles and Aragorn reached out and caught the deft fingers and pressed them into his wide palm. He could feel the dirt caking into his skin, and the brush of their cool skin against his temperate flesh.

Legolas's hand went still in the bigger one, but he did not recoil. Aragorn squeezed once very softly, for a moment he thought he had scared Legolas but then there was pressure against his own fingers and warmth in Legolas's eyes.

Aragorn placed Legolas's hand gently back down in the dirt, then he stood and brushed himself off. "The hour grows late."

Legolas smiled at his lap and wiped off his dirt-covered hand. He stood in one fluid motion and glanced at Aragorn, a small grin on his thin face.

"What?" Aragorn asked, his head cocked to the side as he saw the grin.

"You have a leaf in your hair," Legolas said. Aragorn noticed that there was not a speck of dirt on the elf except where he had wiped his hand.

Aragorn brought a hand to his scalp and rubbed it rapidly. He looked to Legolas, "Is it gone?"

Legolas laughed like the tinkling of a little bell. "Nay."

He came very close to Aragorn until they were nearly touching, then glanced curiously at Aragorn's dark hair and placed his hand to Aragorn's temple. Aragorn closed his eyes and breathed in Legolas's smell. He smelled like the earth in a subtle way.

Legolas pulled his hand away after a few (too) short moments. He produced a large piece of a golden leaf. Then he stepped away and Aragorn felt much colder when he went. Aragorn closed his eyes and smiled at Legolas. "Let's go back."

Legolas nodded, and Aragorn guided them back to the warmth of the halls. He was of course not lost this time, but somewhere deep down he wished he were.

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