Disclaimer: Not mine
Author's Notes: 1) I first saw this Nietzsche quote in Marilyn Manson's book and I really liked it so I wrote it down in the first notebook I found... one of my LOTR notebooks. Recently I was flipping through said notebook, now full, pulling out anything I was still working on so that I could pitch the rest. I came across the quote and as I read it just screamed "Aragorn!!!" at me, so I guess I took that and ran with it. 2) I don't normally write Aragorn-centric fic as I am an avid Legolas fan but I guess this fic involves both of them so hopefully I can keep my perspective. 3) The title of course has two meanings, the more obvious being the hope that Aragorn brings to mankind as he claims his title; the second referring to the name the Elves gave him, Estel, which means "hope." Legolas refers to him throughout this fic as "Estel" since I chose to believe that the two knew each other long before the Quest, as is hinted in both the movie and the book. 4) There are two schools of thought on how old Legolas actually is at the time of the Ring War. The more popular thought is that he is roughly 3000 years old, but Martinez claims that he is MUCH younger. I guess we'll never really know, but for the sake of this story I'm choosing to go with the younger-Legolas theory. 5) All right. The name "Wethrin." This is the *original* story that had the name way back when it was just a paragraph-long plot bunny. There will be another version of how Legolas got the nickname on another up-coming story but this story and that one are not related so don't worry about which is the "real" version. There *is* no real version. 6) oh, wait. there are no more notes. lol. sorry. anyway, on with the show.
Story Summary: Aragorn's journey from a Ranger to King of the World... or rather King of Men. sorry. ;-)
Chapter Summary: Aragorn does a bit of soul-searching in Lorien.
~~But someday, in a stronger age than this decaying, self-doubting present, he must yet come to us, the redeeming man, of great love and contempt, the creative spirit whose compelling strength will not let him rest in any aloofness or any beyond, whose isolation is misunderstood by the people as if it were flight from reality - while it is only his absorption, immersion, penetration into reality, so that, when he one day emerges again into the light, he may bring home the redemption of this reality; its redemption from the curse that the hitherto reigning ideal has laid upon it. The man of the future, who will redeem us not only from the hitherto reigning ideal but also from that which was bound to grow out of it, the great nausea, the will to nothingness, nihilism; this bell-stroke of noon and of the great decision that liberates the will again and restores its goal to the earth and his hope to man; this Antichrist and antinihilist; this victor over God and nothingness - he must come one day. ~Friedrich Nietzsche, On the Genealogy of Morals~~
"One day, our paths will lead us there. And the tower guard shall take up the call: 'The Lords of Gondor have returned.'" The words of Boromir echoed endlessly through Aragorn's head, leaving him always on edge. Lothlórien should have been a place of rest, and indeed, on this second day in the city, the other members of the Company did seem to be relaxing slightly and slowly forgetting for a time the grief and fear that had accompanied them, but there was no relief for Aragorn. While he did not wish to lead the Ring to Gondor it was quickly becoming clear that his own fate lay there. He was torn between two duties: that to his people and his heritage, and that which he had sworn to Frodo, to accompany him to Mordor.
The Man rose from the pavilion where he was sitting. The sun was quickly sinking into the western sky and he wished to watch the sun set from Caras Galadhon, something he had not done for many long years. His feet seemed to have a memory of their own as they led him to a small clearing near the edge of the city and Aragorn allowed himself a small smile as he came to a halt at the edge of the treeline. When he had come to Lothlórien as a young man he had spent many evenings in this clearing watching the sky grow orange then increasingly darker. The smile quickly dissipated, however, when he saw that the clearing was not deserted.
An Elf was sitting in the tall grass, his back to Aragorn. The Man would have missed seeing the Elf had he not shifted slightly. The creature seemed to disappear entirely into the surroundings once again. Aragorn sighed. Obviously the Elf was here for the same reason he was and since this was not his land he would let the Elf have the clearing. He had turned to leave when a mellifluous voice drifted to his ears. "It's all right, Aragorn. You may join me if you like. You are clearly troubled."
Aragorn recognized the voice and relaxed. He turned back to the clearing and sat next to the Elf. "I used to come here when I was young to think . And to watch the sun set each evening. I suppose I returned here tonight seeking some of the peace I knew in those happier days. Alas I fear I will never find peace again."
Legolas tore his eyes from the pink sky before him and turned toward his old friend. The Man seemed to have aged ten years since they left Moria and the weight of leadership landed on him. He was used to Aragorn's rough appearance but there were new stress lines in his tanned face and he was always frowning. Was that a grey hair? Legolas missed the young man he had met in Imladris all those years ago. The near-boy known as Estel was untouched by troubles and always quick with a smile. Both Man and Elf had been younger then and they had tried the very limits of Elrond's patience. When had Estel become Aragorn?
Aragorn shifted uneasily under Legolas' intense scrutiny. The Elf had always been frighteningly intuitive and at that precise moment Aragorn did not want to speak of the choice he knew he must make. He resolutely kept his eyes trained on the western sky, taking in the way the orange and pink were beginning to meld with the darker purple hues of impending night and hoping that Legolas would not push him. Accompanied by an elegant shrug of the shoulders, Legolas' gaze returned to the color-filled sky. "I cannot force you to speak, Aragorn, and you do not have to choose to do so. Just know that I am here."
"I always know, Legolas." The Elf's mere presence was comforting and Aragorn knew that in time he would speak with Legolas. Tonight, though, he just needed to be in this place with his memories. The sky was now mostly purple, turning to deep blue-black, but some orange and pink lingered stubbornly on the horizon. Man and Elf sat in silence for many long minutes, until the sky was completely dark and a few stars twinkled above them. Somewhere from the north came the call of a nightingale and as if in answer the Elves of Lórien lifted their voices in song. Legolas' soft tenor weaved a descant around the ethereal melody. "Go join your kindred Wethrin."
Legolas smiled at Aragorn and the gentle curve of the Elf's lips comforted the Man. "Wethrin," the Elf breathed. "It is long since any have called me that and I had nearly forgotten it. Remind me, was it Gildor Inglorion who christened me such?"
A cold breeze picked up and Aragorn pulled his cloak more closely about him. "Glorfindel. He said that you were so constantly my companion you might be my shadow." He smiled at the Elf and placed his hand on a deceptively delicate-looking shoulder. "Go. Be with your kin. I, more than any Man, know that Elves are social creatures, always seeking the company of their own kind."
Legolas did not move but focused on his friend. "I do not wish to leave you alone with your worries."
There was slight exasperation in Aragorn's voice as he answered with a smile. "Go! Being alone with my thoughts is nothing new to me. If I need you I will seek you out." Still the Elf hesitated. "Legolas! You need not hover like a mother hen."
Legolas actually laughed at the expression on the Ranger's face. For a moment Aragorn had become Estel once again, bothered by the much-older Elf's sometimes overly responsible nature. "If you truly wish to be alone then I will go but there will be time for me to socialize later." The Elf paused for a moment, his eyes pleading with Aragorn. "Please do not push me away Estel."
Aragorn slowly trailed his hand from Legolas' shoulder over the suede leather of his jerkin until his fingertips rested over the Elf's heart. If he closed his eyes and concentrated he could feel the slow steady beat under his fingers. What had he done to deserve a friend such as this? "My Wethrin."
It was no more than a sigh upon the man's lips but Legolas' sharp ears caught the words and he trembled almost imperceptibly. He shifted subtly backwards and Aragorn's hand fell away, but as it happened the breeze whipped Legolas' long hair around and the Man curled his fingers lightly around the silky strands as they blew fleetingly across his hand. "Stay then if you wish but I'm afraid I will turn out to be poor company."
Legolas did not -could not- answer. Instead he merely grasped Aragorn's hand and squeezed gently. Aragorn's eyes spoke volumes and Legolas had an easy task reading that the Man did not want words. He simply wanted someone -him- to be there while the Ranger wandered in his memories. Legolas released his hand with a small smile then lay back in the tall grass gazing at the stars twinkling like diamonds in a velvet sky.
Aragorn gazed down at the Elf lying next to him. He had intended to remain alone here with his thoughts until exhaustion drove him back to the city for a few hours of restless sleep, but Legolas was distracting him. He could still remember those days back in Imladris which had been filled with Legolas teaching him to use a bow and wield a knife. Each day after lessons were over the Elf suddenly became a tutor no longer. He was so much older than Estel but still young by Elven standards and together they had wreaked much havoc in the Valley. Many times Glorfindel or Erestor or Gildor Inglorion had dragged the two troublemakers to Elrond's chamber where they would receive a thorough tongue-lashing, the effect of which would last for several days before they would again find more mischief. A gentle smile made its way to his lips as he remembered his foster father's exasperated mutterings.
Legolas had been his constant companion for a year, until Thranduil had summoned his youngest son home to help defend their land against Orc attacks. Shortly thereafter Elrond had revealed to Estel his true name and heritage and, overwhelmed, Aragorn had taken to the Wild. After that he had not seen much of his friend for he traveled the width and breadth of Middle-earth learning what he could from all that he met. Only occasionally did he return to Imladris and never when Legolas happened to be there as well. Even less occasionally did he venture to Mirkwood though when he was there he was warmly received by the Elf. After twenty-nine years of journeying Aragorn had returned to Imladris, but on his way he rested for a time here in Lothlorien where he once again met with Arwen.
Aragorn heaved a heavy sigh at the thought of Arwen. They had become secretly betrothed in this, the land of Arwen's grandmother. Somehow Elrond had learned of their plans and he forbade his daughter to marry any Man lower than both King of Gondor and of Arnor. Aragorn had always loved Arwen but he had been reluctant to pursue the titles he needed to make her his wife. Visions of her had eased his sleep for many long years and his love for her had not diminished. It was this love of her that forced him to drive her away. Tears flooded his eyes as the Man remembered his last meeting with her; the night before the Company had set out from Rivendell. It was because of love that he made her promise to sail West with the rest of her kind. He could not bear the thought of her beauty being taken from the world because of him. She was immortal and would surely learn to love again. Tears fell silently down his cheeks, silver in the starlight, as he thought of the hurt and betrayal that he had seen in her eyes as she bitterly handed him back the Evenstar which he had attempted to return to her. That hurt and betrayal had been because of him.
Cool fingers entwined with his and he looked over at Legolas to see compassion-warmed blue eyes gazing back. Compassion and... something else. Something he couldn't quite put a finger on. The tears came harder and faster and a sob tore loose from Aragorn's strained throat. He leaned forward and rested his cheek on Legolas' warm chest, letting the rise and fall of the Elf's breathing soothe him. He closed his eyes and could see Arwen's deep blue eyes filling with tears. He had caused her so much pain but what she didn't know was how much it had hurt him to do it. Fresh hot tears seeped from between his eyelids and crept down his flushed cheeks. He was vaguely aware of long fingers raking through his hair and a soft Elven voice murmuring to him.
Finally the tears would come no more and Aragorn's breath became more slow and steady but still he did not open his eyes. He reached out with one hand and touched Legolas' cheek, amazed to feel tears there. "Wethrin?" When no answer came he did open his eyes only to find that Legolas' were tightly closed. He had never seen Legolas cry and it scared him. Legolas was always the strong one. He could count on one hand the number of times he'd seen the Elf visibly affected by anything and two of those times had been within the last three days; first the terror in Legolas' eyes when faced with a Balrog, second the confusion of Gandalf's death. "Why do you cry Legolas?" The Elf only squeezed his eyes more tightly closed and swallowed, a slight hitch in the action. With roughened fingers Aragorn gently brushed the tears from his friend's porcelain cheeks. "Will you not tell me what troubles you, my friend?"
Legolas sat up and moved a distance away from Aragorn. His voice was quiet and strained, his blue eyes shimmering with unshed tears. "I cannot." At that moment there was so much pain in Legolas' entire being that Aragorn almost couldn't stand it. His eyes, his voice, his posture... all were filled with some immense hurt. The changes were subtle and someone who didn't know the Elf would never have noticed but to Aragorn the signs of distress were obvious. Aragorn bit his lip and reached out to touch Legolas' hand. "Don't! Please, Estel, do not touch me."
Aragorn withdrew his hand and regarded his friend with confusion filled eyes. "Legolas, I don't understand. Please, help me to understand. It pains me to see you like this. What could possibly be so terrible that my strongest friend cannot bear its weight?"
As Aragorn watched the cool mask slipped onto the Elf's face once again and he was unreadable. "You have enough of your own troubles to carry Aragorn. I will not have you carry mine as well."
Aragorn sighed. It was so like Legolas to worry about someone else when he was hurting. "I would carry them whether you asked me or not. Please do not push me away, Wethrin." Aragorn echoed Legolas' own words back at him and the Elf's eyes widened slightly. "I have unloaded the worries of my heart onto you since we were young and now it is time for me to repay you. I want to help, even if I can do nothing more than whisper comforting words."
"Aragorn, I am sorry, but you truly couldn't understand. I... I need to be with my own kind, I'm sorry." With one last agonized look at Aragorn, Legolas leapt to his feet and fled into the forest.
Some part of Aragorn felt that he should be hurt by Legolas' unwillingness to confide in him and for leaving when Aragorn needed a shoulder to cry on, but a much larger part of him hurt for his friend. Legolas was obviously extremely upset by something and the Man was pained to think that the Elf thought he wouldn't understand. With a mental shrug the Ranger stood and made his way back to the pavilion, no less lighthearted than he had been when he left.
********
Sorry. i guess i should have said up above that this isn't slash. leggy and arrers are just really good friends. "Cat" may end up running into this, but i'm not sure yet and if it does, this may end up being something of a prequel to "Here Today." *BUT*... don't quote me on that 'cause i'll just have to see how this goes.
Author's Notes: 1) I first saw this Nietzsche quote in Marilyn Manson's book and I really liked it so I wrote it down in the first notebook I found... one of my LOTR notebooks. Recently I was flipping through said notebook, now full, pulling out anything I was still working on so that I could pitch the rest. I came across the quote and as I read it just screamed "Aragorn!!!" at me, so I guess I took that and ran with it. 2) I don't normally write Aragorn-centric fic as I am an avid Legolas fan but I guess this fic involves both of them so hopefully I can keep my perspective. 3) The title of course has two meanings, the more obvious being the hope that Aragorn brings to mankind as he claims his title; the second referring to the name the Elves gave him, Estel, which means "hope." Legolas refers to him throughout this fic as "Estel" since I chose to believe that the two knew each other long before the Quest, as is hinted in both the movie and the book. 4) There are two schools of thought on how old Legolas actually is at the time of the Ring War. The more popular thought is that he is roughly 3000 years old, but Martinez claims that he is MUCH younger. I guess we'll never really know, but for the sake of this story I'm choosing to go with the younger-Legolas theory. 5) All right. The name "Wethrin." This is the *original* story that had the name way back when it was just a paragraph-long plot bunny. There will be another version of how Legolas got the nickname on another up-coming story but this story and that one are not related so don't worry about which is the "real" version. There *is* no real version. 6) oh, wait. there are no more notes. lol. sorry. anyway, on with the show.
Story Summary: Aragorn's journey from a Ranger to King of the World... or rather King of Men. sorry. ;-)
Chapter Summary: Aragorn does a bit of soul-searching in Lorien.
~~But someday, in a stronger age than this decaying, self-doubting present, he must yet come to us, the redeeming man, of great love and contempt, the creative spirit whose compelling strength will not let him rest in any aloofness or any beyond, whose isolation is misunderstood by the people as if it were flight from reality - while it is only his absorption, immersion, penetration into reality, so that, when he one day emerges again into the light, he may bring home the redemption of this reality; its redemption from the curse that the hitherto reigning ideal has laid upon it. The man of the future, who will redeem us not only from the hitherto reigning ideal but also from that which was bound to grow out of it, the great nausea, the will to nothingness, nihilism; this bell-stroke of noon and of the great decision that liberates the will again and restores its goal to the earth and his hope to man; this Antichrist and antinihilist; this victor over God and nothingness - he must come one day. ~Friedrich Nietzsche, On the Genealogy of Morals~~
"One day, our paths will lead us there. And the tower guard shall take up the call: 'The Lords of Gondor have returned.'" The words of Boromir echoed endlessly through Aragorn's head, leaving him always on edge. Lothlórien should have been a place of rest, and indeed, on this second day in the city, the other members of the Company did seem to be relaxing slightly and slowly forgetting for a time the grief and fear that had accompanied them, but there was no relief for Aragorn. While he did not wish to lead the Ring to Gondor it was quickly becoming clear that his own fate lay there. He was torn between two duties: that to his people and his heritage, and that which he had sworn to Frodo, to accompany him to Mordor.
The Man rose from the pavilion where he was sitting. The sun was quickly sinking into the western sky and he wished to watch the sun set from Caras Galadhon, something he had not done for many long years. His feet seemed to have a memory of their own as they led him to a small clearing near the edge of the city and Aragorn allowed himself a small smile as he came to a halt at the edge of the treeline. When he had come to Lothlórien as a young man he had spent many evenings in this clearing watching the sky grow orange then increasingly darker. The smile quickly dissipated, however, when he saw that the clearing was not deserted.
An Elf was sitting in the tall grass, his back to Aragorn. The Man would have missed seeing the Elf had he not shifted slightly. The creature seemed to disappear entirely into the surroundings once again. Aragorn sighed. Obviously the Elf was here for the same reason he was and since this was not his land he would let the Elf have the clearing. He had turned to leave when a mellifluous voice drifted to his ears. "It's all right, Aragorn. You may join me if you like. You are clearly troubled."
Aragorn recognized the voice and relaxed. He turned back to the clearing and sat next to the Elf. "I used to come here when I was young to think . And to watch the sun set each evening. I suppose I returned here tonight seeking some of the peace I knew in those happier days. Alas I fear I will never find peace again."
Legolas tore his eyes from the pink sky before him and turned toward his old friend. The Man seemed to have aged ten years since they left Moria and the weight of leadership landed on him. He was used to Aragorn's rough appearance but there were new stress lines in his tanned face and he was always frowning. Was that a grey hair? Legolas missed the young man he had met in Imladris all those years ago. The near-boy known as Estel was untouched by troubles and always quick with a smile. Both Man and Elf had been younger then and they had tried the very limits of Elrond's patience. When had Estel become Aragorn?
Aragorn shifted uneasily under Legolas' intense scrutiny. The Elf had always been frighteningly intuitive and at that precise moment Aragorn did not want to speak of the choice he knew he must make. He resolutely kept his eyes trained on the western sky, taking in the way the orange and pink were beginning to meld with the darker purple hues of impending night and hoping that Legolas would not push him. Accompanied by an elegant shrug of the shoulders, Legolas' gaze returned to the color-filled sky. "I cannot force you to speak, Aragorn, and you do not have to choose to do so. Just know that I am here."
"I always know, Legolas." The Elf's mere presence was comforting and Aragorn knew that in time he would speak with Legolas. Tonight, though, he just needed to be in this place with his memories. The sky was now mostly purple, turning to deep blue-black, but some orange and pink lingered stubbornly on the horizon. Man and Elf sat in silence for many long minutes, until the sky was completely dark and a few stars twinkled above them. Somewhere from the north came the call of a nightingale and as if in answer the Elves of Lórien lifted their voices in song. Legolas' soft tenor weaved a descant around the ethereal melody. "Go join your kindred Wethrin."
Legolas smiled at Aragorn and the gentle curve of the Elf's lips comforted the Man. "Wethrin," the Elf breathed. "It is long since any have called me that and I had nearly forgotten it. Remind me, was it Gildor Inglorion who christened me such?"
A cold breeze picked up and Aragorn pulled his cloak more closely about him. "Glorfindel. He said that you were so constantly my companion you might be my shadow." He smiled at the Elf and placed his hand on a deceptively delicate-looking shoulder. "Go. Be with your kin. I, more than any Man, know that Elves are social creatures, always seeking the company of their own kind."
Legolas did not move but focused on his friend. "I do not wish to leave you alone with your worries."
There was slight exasperation in Aragorn's voice as he answered with a smile. "Go! Being alone with my thoughts is nothing new to me. If I need you I will seek you out." Still the Elf hesitated. "Legolas! You need not hover like a mother hen."
Legolas actually laughed at the expression on the Ranger's face. For a moment Aragorn had become Estel once again, bothered by the much-older Elf's sometimes overly responsible nature. "If you truly wish to be alone then I will go but there will be time for me to socialize later." The Elf paused for a moment, his eyes pleading with Aragorn. "Please do not push me away Estel."
Aragorn slowly trailed his hand from Legolas' shoulder over the suede leather of his jerkin until his fingertips rested over the Elf's heart. If he closed his eyes and concentrated he could feel the slow steady beat under his fingers. What had he done to deserve a friend such as this? "My Wethrin."
It was no more than a sigh upon the man's lips but Legolas' sharp ears caught the words and he trembled almost imperceptibly. He shifted subtly backwards and Aragorn's hand fell away, but as it happened the breeze whipped Legolas' long hair around and the Man curled his fingers lightly around the silky strands as they blew fleetingly across his hand. "Stay then if you wish but I'm afraid I will turn out to be poor company."
Legolas did not -could not- answer. Instead he merely grasped Aragorn's hand and squeezed gently. Aragorn's eyes spoke volumes and Legolas had an easy task reading that the Man did not want words. He simply wanted someone -him- to be there while the Ranger wandered in his memories. Legolas released his hand with a small smile then lay back in the tall grass gazing at the stars twinkling like diamonds in a velvet sky.
Aragorn gazed down at the Elf lying next to him. He had intended to remain alone here with his thoughts until exhaustion drove him back to the city for a few hours of restless sleep, but Legolas was distracting him. He could still remember those days back in Imladris which had been filled with Legolas teaching him to use a bow and wield a knife. Each day after lessons were over the Elf suddenly became a tutor no longer. He was so much older than Estel but still young by Elven standards and together they had wreaked much havoc in the Valley. Many times Glorfindel or Erestor or Gildor Inglorion had dragged the two troublemakers to Elrond's chamber where they would receive a thorough tongue-lashing, the effect of which would last for several days before they would again find more mischief. A gentle smile made its way to his lips as he remembered his foster father's exasperated mutterings.
Legolas had been his constant companion for a year, until Thranduil had summoned his youngest son home to help defend their land against Orc attacks. Shortly thereafter Elrond had revealed to Estel his true name and heritage and, overwhelmed, Aragorn had taken to the Wild. After that he had not seen much of his friend for he traveled the width and breadth of Middle-earth learning what he could from all that he met. Only occasionally did he return to Imladris and never when Legolas happened to be there as well. Even less occasionally did he venture to Mirkwood though when he was there he was warmly received by the Elf. After twenty-nine years of journeying Aragorn had returned to Imladris, but on his way he rested for a time here in Lothlorien where he once again met with Arwen.
Aragorn heaved a heavy sigh at the thought of Arwen. They had become secretly betrothed in this, the land of Arwen's grandmother. Somehow Elrond had learned of their plans and he forbade his daughter to marry any Man lower than both King of Gondor and of Arnor. Aragorn had always loved Arwen but he had been reluctant to pursue the titles he needed to make her his wife. Visions of her had eased his sleep for many long years and his love for her had not diminished. It was this love of her that forced him to drive her away. Tears flooded his eyes as the Man remembered his last meeting with her; the night before the Company had set out from Rivendell. It was because of love that he made her promise to sail West with the rest of her kind. He could not bear the thought of her beauty being taken from the world because of him. She was immortal and would surely learn to love again. Tears fell silently down his cheeks, silver in the starlight, as he thought of the hurt and betrayal that he had seen in her eyes as she bitterly handed him back the Evenstar which he had attempted to return to her. That hurt and betrayal had been because of him.
Cool fingers entwined with his and he looked over at Legolas to see compassion-warmed blue eyes gazing back. Compassion and... something else. Something he couldn't quite put a finger on. The tears came harder and faster and a sob tore loose from Aragorn's strained throat. He leaned forward and rested his cheek on Legolas' warm chest, letting the rise and fall of the Elf's breathing soothe him. He closed his eyes and could see Arwen's deep blue eyes filling with tears. He had caused her so much pain but what she didn't know was how much it had hurt him to do it. Fresh hot tears seeped from between his eyelids and crept down his flushed cheeks. He was vaguely aware of long fingers raking through his hair and a soft Elven voice murmuring to him.
Finally the tears would come no more and Aragorn's breath became more slow and steady but still he did not open his eyes. He reached out with one hand and touched Legolas' cheek, amazed to feel tears there. "Wethrin?" When no answer came he did open his eyes only to find that Legolas' were tightly closed. He had never seen Legolas cry and it scared him. Legolas was always the strong one. He could count on one hand the number of times he'd seen the Elf visibly affected by anything and two of those times had been within the last three days; first the terror in Legolas' eyes when faced with a Balrog, second the confusion of Gandalf's death. "Why do you cry Legolas?" The Elf only squeezed his eyes more tightly closed and swallowed, a slight hitch in the action. With roughened fingers Aragorn gently brushed the tears from his friend's porcelain cheeks. "Will you not tell me what troubles you, my friend?"
Legolas sat up and moved a distance away from Aragorn. His voice was quiet and strained, his blue eyes shimmering with unshed tears. "I cannot." At that moment there was so much pain in Legolas' entire being that Aragorn almost couldn't stand it. His eyes, his voice, his posture... all were filled with some immense hurt. The changes were subtle and someone who didn't know the Elf would never have noticed but to Aragorn the signs of distress were obvious. Aragorn bit his lip and reached out to touch Legolas' hand. "Don't! Please, Estel, do not touch me."
Aragorn withdrew his hand and regarded his friend with confusion filled eyes. "Legolas, I don't understand. Please, help me to understand. It pains me to see you like this. What could possibly be so terrible that my strongest friend cannot bear its weight?"
As Aragorn watched the cool mask slipped onto the Elf's face once again and he was unreadable. "You have enough of your own troubles to carry Aragorn. I will not have you carry mine as well."
Aragorn sighed. It was so like Legolas to worry about someone else when he was hurting. "I would carry them whether you asked me or not. Please do not push me away, Wethrin." Aragorn echoed Legolas' own words back at him and the Elf's eyes widened slightly. "I have unloaded the worries of my heart onto you since we were young and now it is time for me to repay you. I want to help, even if I can do nothing more than whisper comforting words."
"Aragorn, I am sorry, but you truly couldn't understand. I... I need to be with my own kind, I'm sorry." With one last agonized look at Aragorn, Legolas leapt to his feet and fled into the forest.
Some part of Aragorn felt that he should be hurt by Legolas' unwillingness to confide in him and for leaving when Aragorn needed a shoulder to cry on, but a much larger part of him hurt for his friend. Legolas was obviously extremely upset by something and the Man was pained to think that the Elf thought he wouldn't understand. With a mental shrug the Ranger stood and made his way back to the pavilion, no less lighthearted than he had been when he left.
********
Sorry. i guess i should have said up above that this isn't slash. leggy and arrers are just really good friends. "Cat" may end up running into this, but i'm not sure yet and if it does, this may end up being something of a prequel to "Here Today." *BUT*... don't quote me on that 'cause i'll just have to see how this goes.