***

Chapter Four: Crossing Andros

***

Time hung in the balance as the figure in gold and green stood upon the shores of the Anduin. Before him sat a great ship of rock, river-water breaking into a roaring foam about its base. Only the eyes of an Elf could see, far downstream, its end at south in massive cliffs of bare rock. Knee-deep in Anduin, scarcely noticing the frigid water rushing past lean calves, the Prince of Mirkwood shaded his eyes with a long hand.

It had been of utmost importance, during the war. Amid the trees atop the island had stood innumerable defenders of Middle-earth's free. Amid the trees had most of these defenders fallen. Amon Dîn, easternmost of the beacon hills, stood just visible in the blazing midday sun. Cair Andros was recovered, and its guard replaced. The tang of defeat was still bitter on their tongues, and therefore their eyes were hawk-sharp and ever vigilant. The Elf had not gone unnoticed, but also not unexpected. The closest friends and brothers of King Elessar would be treated as such, and their passage across the long river would not be hindered.

"I sit upon your eastern shores, Anduin, and the Mountains of Shadow stretch cleavéd fingers of stone toward. But I would not leave, ominous though they remain. No threat now stands beyond… The trees of Ithilien speak readily to me, and I would spend all time left unused in their boughs with open ears. It pains me to leave this place, for I too clearly recall my time at youth in Greenwood the Great. O, how these trees of Ithilien sing! The tint is out of their air and buds burst anew upon their upraised arms. They are most joyous for it, most joyous. I would not leave, and yet I do…"

Digging pale toes into the chill sand of water's edge, he laughed hoarsely at a fleeting hope in his mind. "Mayhap," thought he, "the Shadow is lifted from Greenwood. Lord Elrond says it is so, and he is wise beyond any Wood-Elf! Mayhap I will find solace within the elms and the beech-woods once more. " Swimmers darted about his ankles, and his last thought was spoken aloud. "It has been far too long…"

"What has?" The smooth voice of Elladan was near. Sinking to a crouch, the dark-haired Elf did not attempt to hide his amusement at the sight of Legolas' soft boots discarded upon the bare earth. When the choice was his to make, the Prince invariably elected to forego footwear. As an elfling, it had taken his father Thranduil a great stretch of Elven-rope and increasingly complex knots to keep the blond one booted. He trained his dark eyes upon looming Cair Andros. "Surely not too long since you have seen the Ship of Long Foam?"

Legolas smiled, though if one saw only his eyes, they would never have known so. The archer let the water clear his feet of silt, and climbed the bank with ease to Elladan's side. "No… My thoughts were of Greenwood. I wonder if she is recovering as these woods of Gondor have." His thoughts strayed to Gondor's newfound King. "I wonder what stresses Aragorn is under. Too many, I should guess. He is unsure of himself still."

Elladan nodded, tossing the soft boots to his lifelong friend. "He has no reason to be. Such are the ways of Men. I have lived among them many years, and yet I still do not completely understand their ways. Nor those of females, for that matter."

Legolas laughed, smoothing his leggings down from mid-thigh, where they had been kept safe of the lapping Anduin. Pulling on his boots at only a pointed look from the Elf of Imladris, he tucked braids of blond behind his ears. "If Estel were not so complex, we would have tired of him long ago. I feel the same way for Gimli. Dwarf though he may be, stubborn, gruff and oft crude, he manages still to surprise me at each turn."

"I must admit, it is difficult to cling to old animosities with that one… He braids his beard nicely," Elladan pointed out, and grinned. "Has some knowledge of fine wine, knows not to run about out-of-doors bare-footed..."

Legolas rolled his grey eyes and sighed heavily. "You sound like Aragorn. He was terribly stubborn concerning the matter; my toes only tasted fresh air upon the Quest when we had chance to bathe. I felt as though my feet were prisoners, and I must admit… I was quite jealous of the Hobbits. No stubbornness was shown to them!"

"Alas that your feet are delicate and hairless," teased Elladan. "Though now that you have mentioned Hobbits, I am reminded: we are all ready to move on, if you and river Anduin have finished conversing?"

"It was rather a one-sided conversation," Legolas said wryly, and swiftly the two Elves made for the path and their waiting companions.

***

The passage of the Anduin posed them little hassle, and the party soon stood upon the western shores, in the land of Anorien. After a good, warm meal, they mounted ponies and horses and started down the ever-narrowing path. Elladan, whom Legolas was perched behind upon Nilithil the horse, rode at the lead in silence. The Hobbits flanked Elrohir, and chatted amicably with the Elf, sharing tales of the Shire and impossibly convoluted family trees.

"It's going to rain tonight," said Sam, quite out of the blue. "Good that we're almost done for the day. We ought to find shelter—real shelter, mind—and stop for the night. I don't fancy spending such long days cold and wet."

Elrohir raised an eyebrow, and looked back over his shoulder to the warm-hearted little Hobbit. The gardener was staring up at the sky, one hand held aloft to catch what raindrops came. "Why do you say that, Samwise? The sky is blue as far as my eyes can see!"

"Oh, Sam knows his weather," Pippin interjected, "He's got a funny toe."

Elrohir's other eyebrow rose to match its mate. "A… funny toe?"

Sam blushed into his chest, and snuck a glance at the Ringbearer. At Frodo's reassuring smile, the story came out. "Well, yes. When I was just a babe, my old Gaffer let me out to romp about the yard. And well, long story short, I got hold of his spade and nearly took my big toe off, by accident of course. Ever since, I've felt the weather in it. It's never wrong, but I always get laughed at for the claim…"

Elrohir chuckled, and instantly regretted it for the Hobbit's embarrassed look. "I am not laughing at you, Master Hobbit. So far as I can tell, a toe like yours would prove quite useful!"

"Oh, it is," agreed Sam, earnestly. "It's right helpful when working in the garden. Silly to go to all the trouble of watering your plants, only to have it rain the next day…"

"Indeed," Elrohir nodded, though he had never been much of a gardener. "Estel—Aragorn, as I suppose you know him—"
"Estel? Now that's a new one," said Merry, counting the Ranger's names off on his fingers, tongue hanging out in an effort to recall every moniker.

"Legolas calls Strider 'Estel', so you've heard it before," Pippin pointed out, "but I don't know why he does. I can't see how you get 'Estel' from 'Aragorn'…"

"Estel was the name Aragorn used as a child," Elrohir explained, "when he lived in Rivendell under my father's care. It is that name that comes most naturally to my tongue, and those of my family. Legolas, as well, for he is closer to us than many blood-relatives."

"Oh, we knew Legolas and Strider were close," laughed Sam, winking suggestively. Merry and Pippin howled, slapping their thighs and quite nearly toppling from their ponies. Sam beamed at the reception of the joke, having feared the innuendo was rather improper. Remembering his discussion with Elladan the night before, Frodo cringed inwardly at the pain that flashed in Elrohir's eyes. The Ringbearer shot the other Hobbits a glare, and in return won looks of confusion from Merry and Pippin. Sam, for his part, looked properly abashed.

"Yes, they… They have known each other for many years," came Elrohir's meek reply after a pause, and the Elf shook his head before continuing hurriedly. "Anyway, Aragorn insists that his right thumb can sense bodies of water. Everyone thought he was quite mad at first, but he seems to find water when he needs it. Likely luck."

"He has more trouble finding water in which to bathe," Elladan's sing-song voice floated back, and the Hobbits burst into giggles once more, having been thinking along similar lines. Elrohir blushed deeply, hoping against all hope that Legolas had not heard the catch of his breath at the insinuations of Samwise. Frodo and his gardener began to lag behind slightly. It seemed they were caught in conversation concerning what uses Galadriel's soil should be put to, back in Hobbiton. They travelled for some time in silence, and, reinforcing Sam's suggestion, stormy clouds began to brew in the distance.

Elrohir tried to ignore the Hobbit's comments concerning the apparently amusing closeness of the Wood-Elf and Gondor's King, but his insecurities refused to let him do so. "So," he began casually, and quietly enough to avoid the ears of the other Elves, "What amuses you about the relationship of Legolas and Aragorn?"

"They are so smitten," Merry replied, shrugging his shoulders. "'Tis entirely too cute." The Hobbit mistook the expression on Elrohir's face for one of disbelief, so he continued, "During the Quest, they were always together, even in battle. They would share watches and stay up all night talking, or run off to scout for hours on end… And they were constantly teasing each other… Flirting, you know?"

Pippin nodded, "Aye, it's just adorable. Brave Strider, turned to jelly at the faintest smile from that Elf! Thing was, I don't think they realized it themselves…"

"No, but we figured it out right quick! They were always making eyes at one another, cuddling up at night—" Merry began, fluttering his eyelashes and covering the back of his hand with exaggerated, noisy kisses.

"—For warmth, mind you, just warmth!" Pippin interrupted, and both Hobbits cackled.

Elrohir's heart had sunk into his shoes, but his brain worked frantically on possible explanations. Few came, and less were even remotely believable. "They are as close as brothers, I am sure, and I would take a place at Elladan's side to keep warm…"

The youngest Hobbits laughed and shook their curly heads. "That's all we thought at first, too. Isn't that right, Pip?"

Pippin nodded enthusiastically. "At first."

"What led you to change your minds?" Elrohir asked, plastering a smile on his face despite the hurt in his heart. "A kiss?"

"Oh, no," said Pippin, "Nothing like that."

"That would have settled a few bets, though," Merry grinned, remembering one in particular made with Gimli the Dwarf.

Elrohir's fair face had soured. "He had better not have done as much, for he is betrothed to Arwen, my sister. Elbereth knows he does not deserve her, but her heart cannot be helped."

Merry and Pippin started at the icy tone in the Elf's voice, and Elrohir barked a command to his horse. He scarcely noticed the stares of his beloved and twin, and pointedly ignored their calls as he passed them. The sky turned grey and then black, and the rain began to fall heavily.

"Smitten? Flirting? Surely the Hobbits see only Estel's perverse fascination with my Elf… Aragorn and Arwen are reunited since the Quest, and I am sure his need has been taken care of. He would not still turn to Legolas, surely, for release and empty passion… Legolas' smile still sparkles for me. I will speak with him tonight. I have waited so long already, and now I fear that I have waited too long… Yes, tonight."

Insecure in his resolutions, yet unwilling to consider the alternatives, Elrohir continued to lead the party with a foul temper and searched with keen eyes for a suiting camp.

***

"What's the matter, Mister Frodo?"

Taking the offered plate of breakfast from the portly Hobbit, Frodo cocked his head in silent question. Samwise stood before him, scuffing his toes about in the dirt with his chin glued to his chest. Reaching out with a slender arm (too slender, in Sam's opinion) he lifted the younger Hobbit's chin, until Sam timidly met his eyes. "Sam?"

"About before," Sam began, blinking back his tears, "You gave me an awful glare…"

"And I am sorry, Sam, but I do not know if it is my place to explain things. I might only suggest that you keep tales of Legolas and Aragorn's 'closeness' to yourself," Frodo said softly, "They upset Elrohir, you see…"

Sam's eyebrows shot up, "That Elf's got feelings for our Legolas, hasn't he?"

Frodo chuckled softly. All the Hobbits had adored the Elven member of the Fellowship, though he had been rather intimidating at first, and they adored him still. None of them knew when it had come about, but "Our Legolas" seemed to be their official pet name for the blond archer. "Yes, he does. Elladan told me last night, but keep it to yourself for now. Speaking of, where have the Elves got to?"

Sam looked over his shoulder, and found only Merry and Pippin. The pair were wrestling, limbs flailing, a hearty second breakfast their prize. Neither seemed to mind, or even notice the mud left behind from the previous night's storm. "I know Elladan went to tend the horses…"

"And the others?"

With a shrug, Sam called out to the battling cousins. "Oi! Mister Merry! Oi, Pip!"

At the call, Brandybuck and Took paused and looked up, chests heaving in exertion, round faces glowing with mirth. Merry was clearly winning, as he was nearly kneeling atop the smaller Pippin. "Where have Legolas and Elrohir gone?" asked Frodo.

"Legolas went to bathe in the river… He's gone quite mad, if you ask me!"

Pippin grunted and strained, to no avail. He looked back up at what he could see of Merry's face, which was only the jut of his chin, and asked sceptically, "Bathing in the Anduin?"

"Aye, that's what he said," Merry replied with a shrug. "But, as for Elrohir, I don't know. Maybe he went to bathe as well. The Anduin is nice and toasty this time o' the year!"

"Nuts if he did," Pippin shook his head piteously, and with a sudden burst of energy, the fight was renewed and their questions forgotten.

***

It was only the Elf-light step and practiced stealth of the dark-haired watcher that kept his presence a secret, hidden at the path's edge. Not that he should have been hiding, in fact, quite the opposite. It was simply taking Elrohir a moment to search his entire being for every scrap of courage to be had. The sight of the semi-nude, bathing archer was not helping. Sarcasm dripping from his inner voice, he thought bemusedly to himself about the possibility of borrowing some of the courage his twin stored in great supply. "Elladan was always the brave one… He would not condone this. I am not sure if I condone this. Alas that I am so cowardly! Here I stand in the shadows like a thief. It is now, or never…. Now or never, Elrohir…. Now!"

"…Legolas?"

***

Smoothing his water-weighted hair with a slender hand, the Elf bent and scooped a frigid drink from the rushing river. The water was pure and refreshing, and the blond creature wore a broad smile, though he did not realize it. The sun was beaming down, not glaring but glowing upon his pale skin, and only then did his ears catch noise of his visitor. Noise came in the form of voice, and that voice spoke his name.

"Legolas?"

Legolas spun gracefully within the lapping waves of Anduin. He smiled up at Elrohir, who had fallen into a crouch at the riverbank. The elder Elf seemed troubled. Offering a hand to his long-time friend, Legolas' smile broadened. "Elrohir! Have you come to bathe? There is plenty of room, mellonamin."

Elrohir raised an eyebrow, bemused, but made no move toward the crisp chill of Anduin. He furthered his crouch into a seat upon the grass, and patted the ground at his side. Patiently, he out-waited Legolas' quizzical stare, and watched the archer fight the current back to shore. As Legolas neared the rock and sand of shore, the water level decreased dramatically. Elrohir, blushing to the very tips of his ears, began to examine one of Legolas' discarded knives intensely. Seeing the Wood-Elf nude from the waist up had him quite flustered already, and he wanted to retain some control over his tongue, considering what he was about to say.

Finally, having dried himself on a small scrap of cloth, Legolas re-dressed and sat at Elrohir's side. He opened his mouth to speak, and found one of the other Elf's fingers stilling his lips. "Let me speak," Elrohir began, and his nerves were obvious. "I have waited so very long… I…" Elrohir mentally berated himself. "He watches me with such concern! Dear Legolas expects bad news… I hope this will not be it. Why can I not do this?"

Time passed, and Legolas' patience began to wane. He took Elrohir's hand in his own, "Elrohir, my friend. You can tell me anything. Absolutely anything, just as we did when we were young. My ears are always open to you, and I—"

"—May I fix your hair?"

Legolas blinked doubly, first at the interruption and then at the question. "Of course…"

Elrohir moved so that he sat behind the blond Elf, and began to run his fingers through the golden tresses, savouring the touch. It would be easier to speak his mind out from under the intense blue-grey gaze of the Prince. He did not need to be able to see his beloved's face to know the expression it wore. The mixture of confusion and frustration he could see go with little grief, but not the underlying care. Would Legolas even wish to see him, if he did not return the feelings about to be spoken? "It does not matter. I must say this, no matter the result. I cannot go on any further not knowing, hurting myself like this."

"Legolas… I…" Elrohir's words tangled on his tongue as the archer turned around to look him in the face, "I love you."

The Wood-Elf opened his mouth, as if to speak, and yet could produce no sound. He locked gazes with Elrohir, and for an age they sat and spoke volumes with their eyes. Finally, shaking himself out of his daze, Legolas turned his eyes to the sky. "Oh, Elrohir… I had no idea…" Choked with emotion was his voice, and little more than a whisper.

Elrohir felt tears begin to prick at his eyes, and fought desperately to keep them back. "I have always, I think, though I did not realize it at first. I have wanted to tell you for an age…" He paused, expecting some reply from Legolas. None came. At long last, Elrohir turned and placed a hand on the Elf's shoulder timidly. "What are you thinking, mellonamin?"

Legolas shut his eyes tightly, and exhaled shakily. He turned to look Elrohir in the face, and his heart broke at the tears that poured down his friend's cheeks. It took great effort to resist wiping them away, great effort to not draw the Elf into an embrace.

"I… I am most honoured, Elrohir, flattered…" Legolas began awkwardly, his complete surprise and shock dissipating as his mind raced to word nicely what he was to say. He cringed even as the words left his tongue, "And you have my heart… as a brother."

"Then it is true," Elrohir whispered, his heart utterly hollowed. "Another holds your heart. I am too late… Or, I would be, had I been in league with you. It was a dream of mine, understand…" Elrohir wiped furiously at his eyes, and turned his back on Legolas. "Just a foolish dream. Forget I mentioned anything."

"Elrohir… I do not know what I can say…"

With a strangled wail, Elrohir slumped and buried his face in his hands as he wept, drawing his knees up to his chest. Tears slipped unnoticed down Legolas' cheeks, and he reached out to place a hand upon Elrohir's quaking shoulder. "Leave me be," the dark-haired Elf sobbed, "You have said enough. I am not your… taste."

Legolas recoiled at the last word, spat like acid amid the sobs. "I am a fool to deny you. Truly. You are a gift greater than all mithril—"

Elrohir sniffed miserably and glared from beneath furrowed brows. His hair stuck to his tear-soaked skin and his eyes were puffy and bloodshot. "Do not lie to me. False praise will not ease my pain." The hints and giggles of the Hobbits suddenly filled his mind, and his glare hardened at a sudden realization. "Nor that of Arwen, if your heart is indeed Estel's."

Legolas rose, and wandered toward the trees. Tears poured freely down his face, but he could not stop them and made no effort to. "I am truly a fool. You are right, Elrohir. I cannot ease Arwen's pain… Rest assured, I will not cause any. Even before my heart-strings were tightly knotted, I knew that it would be my end to fall for Estel. A King of Men… A male, betrothed mortal, one in need of heirs… I even doubt that he would return my feelings. Yet, I cannot help myself. Alas that I cannot love you as you love me, Elrohir!"

Elrohir rose to trembling legs, and caught up to the golden-topped Elf, "Then love me! My heart bleeds for you…" He placed a strong, tear-wetted hand on Legolas' pale cheek. The other twined it's fingers through those of Legolas' right. "Let me love you…"

The Wood-Elf pulled away, and hated himself for doing so. The back of his hand swept away the tears that slipped down the curve of his cheek, but they were replaced. The pain that exuded from Elrohir was unbearable, and a cold fist gripped Legolas' soul. "I cannot… I cannot love you, Elrohir. Not right now. I'm so sorry…"

"I'm sure you are," Elrohir grumbled, and he stormed toward the glade where the horses were resting. His tears dried in the wind, and anger replaced his hurt for a time. Anger was much easier to deal with, as proved by the satisfaction he felt when his fist connected with an immense oak. "I'm sure you are, Legolas."

"Elrohir, where are you going?!"

The son of Elrond did not so much as pause. He glared over his shoulder at the forlorn Prince, and mounted his horse with a snarl. "That business is my own, mellonamin."

With a kick and a shout, they were away.

***

The friendly banter of the camp stopped dead as the Elf rejoined them. The Hobbits stared, mouths agape, and Elladan rushed forward in alarm. Song entirely forgotten, the little foursome snapped out of their shock and hurried to the archer's side as well. Elladan stopped just within arm's reach, quite tempted to fold Legolas into a hug, but unknowing the reasons for his distress. Pippin was not so inhibited, and he clutched the Elf's pale hand lovingly.

"What has happened?" Elladan breathed, scanning quickly for bodily harm and finding none. He clapped a hand to Legolas' shoulder gently, and realized suddenly what had upset the fair creature. Attempting to hide his gasp with a hand over his mouth, he searched the Wood-Elf's eyes anxiously. "Where is Elrohir?"

"Riding south upon Arlad," Legolas replied, his voice strained. His cheeks tinted with shame, as he had not wished to let the Hobbits see him in such a state. He had curbed his tears, and for the most part, levelled his voice, but his eyes were red and sorrowful, and they would take longer to recover. "Will you go to him?"

Elladan cursed softly, and wrapped his arms around Legolas. "I will. Go on without us, we shall catch up soon enough."

Legolas nodded mutely, but then sniffled softly into Elladan's neck, "I'm sorry…"

Elladan pulled back, and smiled sadly. "Do not apologize, my friend, simply follow your heart. That is all anyone can ask of you. Take care! I bid you farewell now, but not for overlong."

The Hobbits crowded around their Elf supportively, and bid Elladan farewell as he ran at a sprint towards the horses. They did not understand what had happened, but the sight of an Elf so near tears was quite alarming. Taking hold of the Elf's pale hands, they led him to fire's front and quickly began the most upbeat song they knew.

***

As Elladan had taken Nilithil to speed his chase, Legolas was left with only his feet when they set out once more. The Hobbits, on their ponies, were not horribly opposed to the change in pace, and alternated between walking and riding themselves. Dusk had fallen, and once more they had begun to set up camp. The Hobbits chatted quietly, much less jovially than earlier that afternoon, and the ponies grazed peacefully. Legolas headed north along the riverbed to scout their path and, truthfully, for a moment to think.

The birds sang to him, sharing tales of their own heartbreaks and reconciliations. The trees murmured gently in his ears, and for hours the Elf simply sat in the high branches, singing. If nothing else could tap the pain on his heart, song did. It had been his only consolation upon the Quest of the Ring, save his time spent with Aragorn.

"Aragorn. My dear Estel. He will not love me, not as I want him to. Elrohir's heart is a gift! If I were not so caught in Estel, I might take up his offer. As it stands, I am set to break the hearts and friendships I value most, only to end up alone. It is as though I enjoy this heartache—"

The distant crunch of footsteps on fallen leaves caught his ear quite suddenly, and Legolas nimbly leapt to a lower branch for a better view. No one was to be seen, and all sounds stopped. Just as he began to relax, pain tore through his lithe shoulder. Crying out in his agony, Legolas lost his feet and began to fall.

******

Cliff-hanger? Oh, no! Hehe… Sorry this update took me so long, I've been sick. It's pretty hard to write when you're struggling to breathe. :( I hope this chapter is satisfactory… I personally feel so, so bad for Elrohir. I had to fight with myself not to change this to E/L, but hopefully things will work out. We'll see, I've still got a *long* ways to go. I can't believe I'm almost at 50 reviews! That's so crazy, thanks so much! Hopefully we'll see Aragorn again in chapter 5… Coming soon! :D

Edit: Brownie points to mydogisfudge for spotting a mistake!  I knew I'd get the twins' names mixed up eventually.  :)

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