Beautiful Stranger

Prequel to Silent words, Comfort me

Author's note: I keep meaning to end it, but then I can't bear to and the story just keeps going on and on…sigh…

Standard disclaimers apply.

Chapter 8

The dawn was still grey when Aragorn awoke. He shivered at the touch of morning air on his skin, and from the absence of a warm body against his.

A hot wave of anxiety rose in his chest, and tossing aside the blankets, he ran out of the room. But his elf was only sitting in the garden, clearly visible from where he stood. Feeling rather foolish, the man walked up to him and placed a hand on his shoulder; memory of the glorious night stirred his blood when a warm cheek tilted to meet it.

He lifted his hand and traced the elf's lips with his finger, then tilted his chin to see more clearly those startling green eyes. It seemed impossible that he could feel so much for someone of whom he knew nothing, and yet the enigma tantalized him, made him ache to peel off the layers of mystery that shrouded the elf just as he had coaxed the clothes from his skin…

His gaze was trapped, like a swallow caught in a cage of luminous green. For a moment, he thought he was falling, and then he bent towards the sitting elf and kissed him softly on the lips.

The elf's response was equally gentle, and Aragorn felt the control he exercised to keep it that way. He frowned, and pressed harder against him. He didn't want the elf controlled, he wanted to hear his breath run ragged, to feel his heart begin to race, and to know that it was his touch that did it.

Passion clouded his senses as his hands moved over the elf's body, and time lost all meaning. The old adage that it was better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all had never seemed more true. He wanted to shout his revelation to the heavens, but contented himself with whispering it into the smoothness of the elf's skin, and even that was lost in rapture of the man and the elf as the sun rose above them.

~

Elladan absently brushed aside the foliage, and blushed furiously at the scene before him. Spinning on his heel, he turned his back on the sheen of skin in the light, walking back to the dining hall where his twin and Grandmother sat in companionable silence.

Elrohir raised an eyebrow when he walked in alone, and asked, "I thought you were going to ask them to breakfast."

"Oh," Elladan replied, feeling the heat begin to rise in his face yet again, "I don't think they're hungry yet.

Galadriel smiled and beckoned for the food to be served. "They'll come when they will," she said benignly.

"Lady," Elladan said hesitantly, "are you sure about this? I was of the opinion that you disapproved." His brother nodded to indicate shared reservation.

Galadriel met the stare of her daughter's sons, and their blue gazes fell before her own. "I admit I think it better had they never met. But they did, and to keep them apart now when they have so little time together would be even more cruel."

The silver peal of a bell brought the lady's attention to the messenger waiting in the doorway.

"You see," she said sadly, as her eyes fell on the dark-haired child holding the messenger elf's hand, "already Fate claims her due."

~

She led Niere and the child through one of the many passages to the place where the man and elf would be. It wasn't the shortest way, because she knew that the Rivendell elf's arrival meant the beginning of the end of their refuge in Lorien. And yet it wasn't the longest way either, because life had to go on for all of them.

Aragorn and her kinsman sat close together on the grass, and though they did not touch, there was something intimate about the way their fingers lay just that inch apart, and the intensity in their eyes as they watched one another.

Galadriel cleared her throat uncomfortably and they both turned around, rising to their feet.

"Niere!" the man exclaimed in surprise, staring at the elf clad in travelling garb of dark green and brown. He followed the stretch of her arm down to the human child. Mattius tugged furiously against her hold and finally broke free, running towards the Legolas.

The golden-haired elf picked up the squirming child. "Gwador!" the child shrieked happily, tugging at the elf's clothes and hair.

"What are you doing here?" Aragorn asked his Rivendell friend.

Niere drew the letter from somewhere about her and gave it to him. It was from his mother, explaining how the men from Rohan had brought Mattius to his closest kin - herself. But it was impossible for the child to be raised in Rivendell, and she bade her son seek out the Rangers, who would surely admit one of their own.

While the man mulled over the problem, Niere moved slowly towards Legolas, her movements so smooth and purposeful that only he noticed her come near. He should have realized that there was more to come, especially since she had been sent as messenger…Putting Mattius down, he inclined his head in greeting, and waited.

"Cousin - " she began in a low voice meant only for him, " - Legolas, please go back to Eryn Lasgalen. Estel must follow his own path now and…there are rumours of a war with the south. Your father needs you."

Legolas took the news calmly; his face remained expressionless while she spoke of the horrors that had invaded his home, of the dark mist that burned the verdant greens and left them a grey, lifeless mess. He listened to her tell of the rising panic that his father was barely able to control and his desperate call for the son whom his people loved to return.

When she had finished speaking, he glanced down at his tightly clenched hands, then to the smiling boy at his feet and the elegant figure of his lover. Guilt of long-neglected duties tugged at his mind, but how could he tear himself away from this haven when everything had only just begun…

Legolas heard his father's voice, a distant memory.

…it is a matter of choice, for better or for worse. But whatever your decision, make sure it is one you will not regret…

He bowed his head and knew what he would choose to do.

Aragorn fingered the sheet of parchment, debating whether he could tear it up into tiny little pieces and pretend he had never seen it. He looked up and met his elf's hooded green gaze. He couldn't leave him, wouldn't leave him, and the rest of the world would just have to deal with its own problems.

"I…" he began, reaching out to the elf, but before he could tell him how he would always come first, the elf cut him off.

"When will you leave?" Legolas asked, as though it was already given that he would go.

"I'm not going anywhere," the man said tightly.

"But Mattius…"

"I know what I'm doing." Aragorn paced towards him angrily, stopping less than an armslength away.

Galadriel and the twins wisely chose that moment to disappear. Niere took a reluctant Mattius' hand in hers and slipped discretely from the scene as well.

"Do you really want me to leave Lorien?" Aragorn asked, rage smoldering in his voice.

Legolas tore his eyes from the man's relentless stare. The grass at his feet suddenly commanded his undivided attention. "Yes," he whispered.

"Fine."

Caught by surprise at the man's quick agreement, Legolas looked up.

"We'll set off tomorrow morning. There will be Rangers in the forests of Mirkwood. We'll head there," he continued.

"We? Mirkwood?" the elf repeated weakly. He should have known it couldn't be that simple.

"Of course you're coming with us," Aragorn raised an eyebrow at the elf's reaction. "You didn't think I was going to manage that little monster on my own, did you?"

"But I…"

"And besides," the man's voice dropped to a mere whisper, and held a tenderness which Legolas had never thought to hear, "I want you with me... I love you."

"No," Legolas murmured hopelessly, "please…"

Aragorn took a step forward and swept the elf into his arms, holding him so tightly it was a wonder either of them could breathe.

"Shh," he told the elf, releasing his right arm to place a finger on his lips, "Don't say anything remember?" Then he replaced his hand with warm, soft lips and a kiss that was equal parts passion, equal parts pain.


© ai 2003

r&r. thanks.