A/N: All right, I had no intention of continuing this, it was just a little
plot bunny but I decided to give it a chapter 2.don't expect anymore,
though. I just had the image of Legolas and Aragorn in the snow fixed in my
mind and still do..Ah, if only u could see it the way I do..Heart
wrenching.Especially the way Legolas is slumped over weeping with his head
on Aragorn's shoulder. I would draw it if I could get it right, but it has
a certain flow to it, u know? Anyway..here u go:
~*~
Part II
When he awoke the next morning, pale twilight was beyond the windowpanes. After what seemed to be a hopeless struggle, his fever had broken and had finally allowed him to leave the darkness of the water's depths and break to the surface. He took a breath, inhaled sharply, as if he truly had just surfaced in water. His gray eyes lifted open heavily in his exhaustion. Sweat still dampened his face and tousled raven hair. He was tired beyond imagination and felt miserable in his illness, although the worst had passed. What surprised him was the fact that he was alone in his room. He had expected that someone would be here with him, but was proven wrong. He pushed himself up to sit in bed and looked about himself with disorientation. Everything was where it usually was, except the bowl of water and the rag on his bedside table. But wait.. There was something there that had not been there before. On the end of his bed was some sort of cloak. He reached out and grabbed it, feeling the water-soft silk it was made with. He pulled it to his lap and looked more closely at it. Then he realized. The silver cloak that glimmered and fell like cascades in his hands belonged to his best friend. To Legolas.
Immediately, his eyes went wide and a fear was struck in his core. He was panicking. Deep down he knew something was wrong. Legolas would be here if no one else was. Something was wrong with the prince and already, the young ranger was in terror with the speculation of what that something might be. He bolted from his bed with unnatural speed for such a very ill mortal, flinging the door open. He fled from his room as if the very fires of Mordor pursued him, sweeping down the corridor with the Elven cloak still clutched in hand. Where was Legolas? He almost tripped over himself, as he felt light-headed and dizzy. He had no right to be out of bed in his condition, but he must find the golden-haired Elf.
The Last Homely House was quiet. Everyone who resided there still slept before the dawn had arisen. If not for the fact that most of them had not slept in days because of him, they probably would have woken at his quick footsteps. But they were too deeply in sleep after refusing it for so long. He looked to every room on each side of him, but the doors were all closed. He knew that his best friend would not be in any of them. He headed for his father's library, for the Elf might be there. When he did reach the grand study that belonged to his father, he found much to his dismay that it was empty. Again, he set off, now absolutely frantic. If not for the fact he didn't want to awake anyone, he would be screaming the prince's name as he ran. Down stairs, he went hastily, looking about with darting eyes. His feet took him to wander outside, to the courtyard. It was in the middle of winter and absolutely frigid. An untainted white snow coated the ground and the bare tree limbs. It was insane that he would be out in the cold when he was so sick, but he felt a pull inside him that led him there. His every breath was white in the air as he looked for the Elf.
Finally, his gray eyes fell upon the huddled form of his best friend. Legolas was on his knees, doubled over with his arms wrapped around himself. He rocked back and forth slightly, his golden hair hiding his face and pooling on the snow. He sobbed and whimpered, keeping his head bowed. Aragorn's heart broke for him then, shining so clearly in his eyes. Legolas was crying as a small child, thinking no one could hear him this early outside in the cold. The ranger bound forward and fell to his knees across from the Elf.
" Legolas? What is it, mellonin? " he asked quietly as lay a hand on one of the prince's shaking shoulders. Legolas' head snapped up, and he looked into the temperate gray eyes of his best friend. His own, lovely blue were wide with fear and grief and shone with tears. He was breathing sharply and paused in disbelief. Finally, Legolas flung his lithe arms around the young man's neck, nearly pushing Aragorn back into the snow. He cried out as if in pain, yet relief at the same time. Aragorn regained his balance, before placing his seemingly stronger arms around his beloved Greenleaf's trembling form. He closed his eyes with a sigh as he the archer became limp and leaned against him. Legolas sobbed and Aragorn hushed him softly, rocking slightly back and forth whilst holding the Elf to his chest with one sturdy arm.
" Estel," Legolas whimpered as he wept into the man's shoulder.
" It's all right, Legolas. I'm all right," Aragorn assured, trying his best to soothe the Elf.
Legolas had fled the house in his despair, being so sure that Aragorn was lost to him. Already, he had begun to cry out in the snow. Yet, here was his best friend, free from the fever and very much alive. His joy was beyond the measure of men, besides his immense relief. He had never wept in such a way before, and it frightened him to learn just how passionately emotional he was capable of being. Elves were usually so stoical.
Behind the glass of the library window, Glorfindel watched the two below with a grin on his handsome face and glassy eyes. Estel was all right. Legolas would be, too, along with the twins and Elrond. He mentally thanked the Valar for that.
" Glorfindel? " Elrond's tired voice uttered his name as the Lord of Imladris touched his best friend's shoulder tenderly. The Balrog-slayer snaked one arm around Elrond's waist and nudged him to stand beside him, at the window. He felt the glimmer in Elrond's eyes as they fell upon Estel and Legolas in the snow outside. The golden-haired Elf stood still beside the one with equally sleek, dark hair, there at the window.
" What's going on? " Elladan's smooth voice joined them from behind. Both the elder Elves peered over their shoulders to see the eldest son of Elrond approaching, tall and lithe. He held Elrohir in his arms with ease, his twin's arms around his neck. Both were clearly weak with despair, yet as always Elladan was just a bit stronger and carried his twin through their shared strife. They joined Elrond and Glorfindel at the window, and Elladan gasped when he saw the spectacle, Legolas slumped upon Aragorn. Elrohir's eyes shone with his brother's and a tearful smile crossed his beautiful face. Elladan's face was streaked with a stray tears now, whilst Elrohir gazed at his little brother and his closest friend in great felicity. One, slender hand reached out with dainty fingers and touched the cold glass of the window where the man and archer lay below.
~*~
Part II
When he awoke the next morning, pale twilight was beyond the windowpanes. After what seemed to be a hopeless struggle, his fever had broken and had finally allowed him to leave the darkness of the water's depths and break to the surface. He took a breath, inhaled sharply, as if he truly had just surfaced in water. His gray eyes lifted open heavily in his exhaustion. Sweat still dampened his face and tousled raven hair. He was tired beyond imagination and felt miserable in his illness, although the worst had passed. What surprised him was the fact that he was alone in his room. He had expected that someone would be here with him, but was proven wrong. He pushed himself up to sit in bed and looked about himself with disorientation. Everything was where it usually was, except the bowl of water and the rag on his bedside table. But wait.. There was something there that had not been there before. On the end of his bed was some sort of cloak. He reached out and grabbed it, feeling the water-soft silk it was made with. He pulled it to his lap and looked more closely at it. Then he realized. The silver cloak that glimmered and fell like cascades in his hands belonged to his best friend. To Legolas.
Immediately, his eyes went wide and a fear was struck in his core. He was panicking. Deep down he knew something was wrong. Legolas would be here if no one else was. Something was wrong with the prince and already, the young ranger was in terror with the speculation of what that something might be. He bolted from his bed with unnatural speed for such a very ill mortal, flinging the door open. He fled from his room as if the very fires of Mordor pursued him, sweeping down the corridor with the Elven cloak still clutched in hand. Where was Legolas? He almost tripped over himself, as he felt light-headed and dizzy. He had no right to be out of bed in his condition, but he must find the golden-haired Elf.
The Last Homely House was quiet. Everyone who resided there still slept before the dawn had arisen. If not for the fact that most of them had not slept in days because of him, they probably would have woken at his quick footsteps. But they were too deeply in sleep after refusing it for so long. He looked to every room on each side of him, but the doors were all closed. He knew that his best friend would not be in any of them. He headed for his father's library, for the Elf might be there. When he did reach the grand study that belonged to his father, he found much to his dismay that it was empty. Again, he set off, now absolutely frantic. If not for the fact he didn't want to awake anyone, he would be screaming the prince's name as he ran. Down stairs, he went hastily, looking about with darting eyes. His feet took him to wander outside, to the courtyard. It was in the middle of winter and absolutely frigid. An untainted white snow coated the ground and the bare tree limbs. It was insane that he would be out in the cold when he was so sick, but he felt a pull inside him that led him there. His every breath was white in the air as he looked for the Elf.
Finally, his gray eyes fell upon the huddled form of his best friend. Legolas was on his knees, doubled over with his arms wrapped around himself. He rocked back and forth slightly, his golden hair hiding his face and pooling on the snow. He sobbed and whimpered, keeping his head bowed. Aragorn's heart broke for him then, shining so clearly in his eyes. Legolas was crying as a small child, thinking no one could hear him this early outside in the cold. The ranger bound forward and fell to his knees across from the Elf.
" Legolas? What is it, mellonin? " he asked quietly as lay a hand on one of the prince's shaking shoulders. Legolas' head snapped up, and he looked into the temperate gray eyes of his best friend. His own, lovely blue were wide with fear and grief and shone with tears. He was breathing sharply and paused in disbelief. Finally, Legolas flung his lithe arms around the young man's neck, nearly pushing Aragorn back into the snow. He cried out as if in pain, yet relief at the same time. Aragorn regained his balance, before placing his seemingly stronger arms around his beloved Greenleaf's trembling form. He closed his eyes with a sigh as he the archer became limp and leaned against him. Legolas sobbed and Aragorn hushed him softly, rocking slightly back and forth whilst holding the Elf to his chest with one sturdy arm.
" Estel," Legolas whimpered as he wept into the man's shoulder.
" It's all right, Legolas. I'm all right," Aragorn assured, trying his best to soothe the Elf.
Legolas had fled the house in his despair, being so sure that Aragorn was lost to him. Already, he had begun to cry out in the snow. Yet, here was his best friend, free from the fever and very much alive. His joy was beyond the measure of men, besides his immense relief. He had never wept in such a way before, and it frightened him to learn just how passionately emotional he was capable of being. Elves were usually so stoical.
Behind the glass of the library window, Glorfindel watched the two below with a grin on his handsome face and glassy eyes. Estel was all right. Legolas would be, too, along with the twins and Elrond. He mentally thanked the Valar for that.
" Glorfindel? " Elrond's tired voice uttered his name as the Lord of Imladris touched his best friend's shoulder tenderly. The Balrog-slayer snaked one arm around Elrond's waist and nudged him to stand beside him, at the window. He felt the glimmer in Elrond's eyes as they fell upon Estel and Legolas in the snow outside. The golden-haired Elf stood still beside the one with equally sleek, dark hair, there at the window.
" What's going on? " Elladan's smooth voice joined them from behind. Both the elder Elves peered over their shoulders to see the eldest son of Elrond approaching, tall and lithe. He held Elrohir in his arms with ease, his twin's arms around his neck. Both were clearly weak with despair, yet as always Elladan was just a bit stronger and carried his twin through their shared strife. They joined Elrond and Glorfindel at the window, and Elladan gasped when he saw the spectacle, Legolas slumped upon Aragorn. Elrohir's eyes shone with his brother's and a tearful smile crossed his beautiful face. Elladan's face was streaked with a stray tears now, whilst Elrohir gazed at his little brother and his closest friend in great felicity. One, slender hand reached out with dainty fingers and touched the cold glass of the window where the man and archer lay below.