A/N: Sorry, I lied. There isn't much more to this story than
Aragorn/Legolas. I was trying to think of a plot but it was no good. The
two of them are their own plot. And yes, I know this is lame for an update
that took at least a couple of months, but I had not forgotten this or
either of my other unfinished stories.
Aragorn woke, groaning at the stiffness in every muscle. The sun's rays glinted on something, blinding him. He squinted to find a lock of golden hair in his eyes... he narrowed them in remembrance. He had fallen asleep here, on the rock, and Legolas held him. He pulled away gently. Legolas had finally slept, not long, by the looks of it, and not intentionally, either. Aragorn smiled; this was definitely not a position an Elf would have chosen for sleeping. Legolas' head was bent low upon his chest, having slipped just then from Aragorn's shoulder, and the Elf's hair for once was in complete disarray. He would be embarrassed to find Aragorn here upon waking. Aragorn lowered his friend to the ground and, as Legolas had done for him the night before, pulled both blankets over him. He sat close, keeping watch. They would have to set forth again in an hour, at most; the Uruks could not gain any more ground, or Merry and Pippin would be lost. He cast occasional glances at the Elf's slumbering face. The blank, staring eyes were very disconcerting. He had grown used to it, in most cases, but it was too like death to ever leave him completely unaffected where Legolas was concerned.
Many things about Legolas affected him differently. The wise eyes that were channels from his soul, the steel of his jaw when danger drew near, the proud toss of his shining head that told his enemy that turning around was the safer course... Aragorn saw it all and loved him. As a friend. As a brother. He lowered his head into his hands. A touch on his arm made him look up. Legolas was sitting up, worry etched in every line of his face and in the depths of his eyes.
"What is it? Is it not time to resume our hunt?"
Aragorn spoke in the steadiest voice he could muster. "Yes, it is almost time. I... was only thinking."
"Tell me."
"If we cannot catch them... what shall we do?"
"We will find the right path," was the only reply.
"Legolas..." Aragorn looked up and partook of Legolas' courage. He felt immediately guilty for using him in this way. "I am sorry-"
"We will speak no more of this," said Legolas sharply. "We shall only proceed. I must wake the Dwarf. We are three hunters, are we not?"
"Yes," said Aragorn shortly. "Three."
*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*
Aragorn winced ruefully as a sharp rock rolled away from underneath his boot. This terrain was not conducive to long chases. He risked a quick glance behind him as he ran; Legolas was not far behind and Gimli, although wheezing as loudly as he thought necessary to prove his point, was keeping up tolerably well. If they could only maintain this pace for several more hours, they could take a brief rest before continuing on. He might tell Gimli... in a little while. Aragorn grinned to himself. The Dwarf was not a little resentful of the ruthless manner in which Aragorn led them on, and on, and on... Aragorn would never admit it, but he was entirely sick of this chase, too. He might have spent approximately one second in doubt about whether to keep going if it had been anyone else... He had failed Gandalf and Boromir; he had to keep intact what was left of this fellowship. Frodo and Sam were beyond his help now, but one Elf, one Dwarf and two little hobbits needed him, and he would never fail any of them if he could help it.
A sudden exclamation behind him caused him to stop dead, resulting in something warm and solid crashing into his back and throwing him to the ground. "Aragorn!" came the Elf's patented tone of annoyance and slight amusement, rising up from somewhere in the vicinity of his left elbow. "'I see them!' does not mean 'halt two inches from my nose!'"
Aragorn looked up to see Gimli standing several feet away, completely dissolved in helpless laughter. He gave a wry grin at the disgruntled Elf who had now halfway managed to wriggle out from under him. "Sorry," he said simply. "I heard nothing but a strangled yell."
"Human ears," said Legolas disdainfully, but he was smiling. Under Aragorn's steady gaze, his eyes had assumed a soft expression, and his face shone as he offered the ranger a hand up. "If you continue in this fashion, my friend, Gimli and I shall require chain mail armor at all times to keep our poor bones from falling victim to your escapades."
"If you believe you could keep this pace in such armor, then you have my blessing," said Aragorn, laughing.
Gimli sobered quickly. "Then it is a choice between bodily injury and complete exhaustion," he said with a grunt. "I don't suppose there is a third option?"
"One," said Aragorn mischievously. "Tell the Elf to watch where he's going." Legolas huffed and smacked Aragorn on the chest, but Aragorn caught his hand and, turning quickly so Gimli couldn't see, kissed it quickly. "If neither of you is injured," he continued, ignoring Legolas' stricken expression, "we should resume our chase. Perhaps Legolas would run beside me and in that way we might avoid future collisions." Legolas gave a brief nod, and they all turned and began to run once more. In unison the two began to outdistance Gimli, and once they were out of his hearing range, Legolas turned his head slightly towards the ranger.
"Why?" he asked simply.
"Because I wanted to," Aragorn replied just as simply.
"I think that a poor excuse," Legolas answered, the anger rising quickly in tandem with the beats of his heart as they ran.
"Legolas," Aragorn pleaded, trying to catch the Elf's gaze as they ran in perfect unison. "You don't understand. There is no time. We do not have the luxury of these games."
"Games?" said Legolas furiously, remembering just in time to lower his voice enough to escape the Dwarf's hearing. "Do you think I am playing games? Was I not plain enough? I want nothing of the sort from you but what you have already given, to the Evenstar of my own people. I desire neither your guilt nor your pity."
Aragorn was speechless for a while, and they simply continued on their journey, Gimli offering up a shouted curse every once in a while. "You would refuse my comfort? If I give it freely, without regret or restraint?"
"Think what you're saying, Aragorn!" snapped Legolas immediately. "Surely you cannot believe I would have your body when refused your heart? No Elf would do such a thing. You have lived too long among humans and wallowed in their odious customs."
"Our glory may be diminished but we have not forgotten who we are and who we will be again," said Aragorn, shaking with fury. "I only offer you some peace in your spirit though I am unable to give you all. What is odious in that?"
"Your assumption that I should desire such a thing," said Legolas flatly. "That it would bring me pleasure, not increased pain."
"Your pain is not your own," said Aragorn desperately. "It twists in my own heart like a dagger. I cannot simply know of it and do nothing to ease it, or I shall know nothing ibut/i pain. What if one of us is killed? It is possible that we have only days remaining. We should find some comfort in each other while we can."
Legolas looked at him sympathetically. "I shall be comforted merely to be near you and see you alive and well," he said softly, "and if you are in need of me, to keep you so."
"But I am not well, and nor are you," Aragorn said finally. "And though I will no longer argue the point if you are not willing, I will hope for the day when you will not refuse me." Each smiled at the other at the complete reversal of the situation, but neither had anything more to say on the subject.
*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*
Aragorn rolled restlessly over in his bedroll; he was cold and despairing, and worst of all, lonely. But oddly enough, Arwen was not in his thoughts, although she was not far away. He played the day's events over in his mind; he had restrained himself with that kiss to the Elf's hand. If Gimli had not been there, and if they were not on an urgent mission... who knows what might have occurred. But had it been out of desire or out of dissatisfaction with the situation as it stood? He shot a glance over at the Elf's distant figure; he was sitting cross-legged on a rock keeping watch, his golden hair luminous in the moonlight. Warmth spread throughout his body at the sight. Yes, he desired Legolas. He had no idea when it had begun. But the fact was that even through his love and worshipping adoration for Arwen, this Elf had an irresistible pull on him, and he needed to touch him; lying here looking was no longer enough. He groaned and rolled over.
Legolas heard the sound and sought Aragorn's huddled figure, concern furrowing his brow. He looked like he slept, but his uneven breathing suggested otherwise. Legolas shrugged; it was the Dwarf's watch, anyhow; he had only continued on out of a desire to give his friend some extra rest. He woke a grumbling Gimli and made his way over to Aragorn's bedroll, deciding to save them both some embarrassment by pretending he thought the ranger was asleep. He lay down beside him and pulled the lean, strong body to him, wrapping his arms around Aragorn's shoulders.
Aragorn sought to keep his breathing regular. Legolas' arms encircled him lovingly, and he wanted nothing more than to turn in his embrace and find their faces only inches apart. But he was unsure. The vision of Arwen was still there, her beautiful face, the love and support in her eyes, her wisdom, her agelessness; but then again, all these were present in Legolas, and ihe/i was here, holding him. He turned and found the Elf's bright eyes watching him guardedly.
The End. If you want to know what happens next, use your imagination; I know you have one.
Aragorn woke, groaning at the stiffness in every muscle. The sun's rays glinted on something, blinding him. He squinted to find a lock of golden hair in his eyes... he narrowed them in remembrance. He had fallen asleep here, on the rock, and Legolas held him. He pulled away gently. Legolas had finally slept, not long, by the looks of it, and not intentionally, either. Aragorn smiled; this was definitely not a position an Elf would have chosen for sleeping. Legolas' head was bent low upon his chest, having slipped just then from Aragorn's shoulder, and the Elf's hair for once was in complete disarray. He would be embarrassed to find Aragorn here upon waking. Aragorn lowered his friend to the ground and, as Legolas had done for him the night before, pulled both blankets over him. He sat close, keeping watch. They would have to set forth again in an hour, at most; the Uruks could not gain any more ground, or Merry and Pippin would be lost. He cast occasional glances at the Elf's slumbering face. The blank, staring eyes were very disconcerting. He had grown used to it, in most cases, but it was too like death to ever leave him completely unaffected where Legolas was concerned.
Many things about Legolas affected him differently. The wise eyes that were channels from his soul, the steel of his jaw when danger drew near, the proud toss of his shining head that told his enemy that turning around was the safer course... Aragorn saw it all and loved him. As a friend. As a brother. He lowered his head into his hands. A touch on his arm made him look up. Legolas was sitting up, worry etched in every line of his face and in the depths of his eyes.
"What is it? Is it not time to resume our hunt?"
Aragorn spoke in the steadiest voice he could muster. "Yes, it is almost time. I... was only thinking."
"Tell me."
"If we cannot catch them... what shall we do?"
"We will find the right path," was the only reply.
"Legolas..." Aragorn looked up and partook of Legolas' courage. He felt immediately guilty for using him in this way. "I am sorry-"
"We will speak no more of this," said Legolas sharply. "We shall only proceed. I must wake the Dwarf. We are three hunters, are we not?"
"Yes," said Aragorn shortly. "Three."
*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*
Aragorn winced ruefully as a sharp rock rolled away from underneath his boot. This terrain was not conducive to long chases. He risked a quick glance behind him as he ran; Legolas was not far behind and Gimli, although wheezing as loudly as he thought necessary to prove his point, was keeping up tolerably well. If they could only maintain this pace for several more hours, they could take a brief rest before continuing on. He might tell Gimli... in a little while. Aragorn grinned to himself. The Dwarf was not a little resentful of the ruthless manner in which Aragorn led them on, and on, and on... Aragorn would never admit it, but he was entirely sick of this chase, too. He might have spent approximately one second in doubt about whether to keep going if it had been anyone else... He had failed Gandalf and Boromir; he had to keep intact what was left of this fellowship. Frodo and Sam were beyond his help now, but one Elf, one Dwarf and two little hobbits needed him, and he would never fail any of them if he could help it.
A sudden exclamation behind him caused him to stop dead, resulting in something warm and solid crashing into his back and throwing him to the ground. "Aragorn!" came the Elf's patented tone of annoyance and slight amusement, rising up from somewhere in the vicinity of his left elbow. "'I see them!' does not mean 'halt two inches from my nose!'"
Aragorn looked up to see Gimli standing several feet away, completely dissolved in helpless laughter. He gave a wry grin at the disgruntled Elf who had now halfway managed to wriggle out from under him. "Sorry," he said simply. "I heard nothing but a strangled yell."
"Human ears," said Legolas disdainfully, but he was smiling. Under Aragorn's steady gaze, his eyes had assumed a soft expression, and his face shone as he offered the ranger a hand up. "If you continue in this fashion, my friend, Gimli and I shall require chain mail armor at all times to keep our poor bones from falling victim to your escapades."
"If you believe you could keep this pace in such armor, then you have my blessing," said Aragorn, laughing.
Gimli sobered quickly. "Then it is a choice between bodily injury and complete exhaustion," he said with a grunt. "I don't suppose there is a third option?"
"One," said Aragorn mischievously. "Tell the Elf to watch where he's going." Legolas huffed and smacked Aragorn on the chest, but Aragorn caught his hand and, turning quickly so Gimli couldn't see, kissed it quickly. "If neither of you is injured," he continued, ignoring Legolas' stricken expression, "we should resume our chase. Perhaps Legolas would run beside me and in that way we might avoid future collisions." Legolas gave a brief nod, and they all turned and began to run once more. In unison the two began to outdistance Gimli, and once they were out of his hearing range, Legolas turned his head slightly towards the ranger.
"Why?" he asked simply.
"Because I wanted to," Aragorn replied just as simply.
"I think that a poor excuse," Legolas answered, the anger rising quickly in tandem with the beats of his heart as they ran.
"Legolas," Aragorn pleaded, trying to catch the Elf's gaze as they ran in perfect unison. "You don't understand. There is no time. We do not have the luxury of these games."
"Games?" said Legolas furiously, remembering just in time to lower his voice enough to escape the Dwarf's hearing. "Do you think I am playing games? Was I not plain enough? I want nothing of the sort from you but what you have already given, to the Evenstar of my own people. I desire neither your guilt nor your pity."
Aragorn was speechless for a while, and they simply continued on their journey, Gimli offering up a shouted curse every once in a while. "You would refuse my comfort? If I give it freely, without regret or restraint?"
"Think what you're saying, Aragorn!" snapped Legolas immediately. "Surely you cannot believe I would have your body when refused your heart? No Elf would do such a thing. You have lived too long among humans and wallowed in their odious customs."
"Our glory may be diminished but we have not forgotten who we are and who we will be again," said Aragorn, shaking with fury. "I only offer you some peace in your spirit though I am unable to give you all. What is odious in that?"
"Your assumption that I should desire such a thing," said Legolas flatly. "That it would bring me pleasure, not increased pain."
"Your pain is not your own," said Aragorn desperately. "It twists in my own heart like a dagger. I cannot simply know of it and do nothing to ease it, or I shall know nothing ibut/i pain. What if one of us is killed? It is possible that we have only days remaining. We should find some comfort in each other while we can."
Legolas looked at him sympathetically. "I shall be comforted merely to be near you and see you alive and well," he said softly, "and if you are in need of me, to keep you so."
"But I am not well, and nor are you," Aragorn said finally. "And though I will no longer argue the point if you are not willing, I will hope for the day when you will not refuse me." Each smiled at the other at the complete reversal of the situation, but neither had anything more to say on the subject.
*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*
Aragorn rolled restlessly over in his bedroll; he was cold and despairing, and worst of all, lonely. But oddly enough, Arwen was not in his thoughts, although she was not far away. He played the day's events over in his mind; he had restrained himself with that kiss to the Elf's hand. If Gimli had not been there, and if they were not on an urgent mission... who knows what might have occurred. But had it been out of desire or out of dissatisfaction with the situation as it stood? He shot a glance over at the Elf's distant figure; he was sitting cross-legged on a rock keeping watch, his golden hair luminous in the moonlight. Warmth spread throughout his body at the sight. Yes, he desired Legolas. He had no idea when it had begun. But the fact was that even through his love and worshipping adoration for Arwen, this Elf had an irresistible pull on him, and he needed to touch him; lying here looking was no longer enough. He groaned and rolled over.
Legolas heard the sound and sought Aragorn's huddled figure, concern furrowing his brow. He looked like he slept, but his uneven breathing suggested otherwise. Legolas shrugged; it was the Dwarf's watch, anyhow; he had only continued on out of a desire to give his friend some extra rest. He woke a grumbling Gimli and made his way over to Aragorn's bedroll, deciding to save them both some embarrassment by pretending he thought the ranger was asleep. He lay down beside him and pulled the lean, strong body to him, wrapping his arms around Aragorn's shoulders.
Aragorn sought to keep his breathing regular. Legolas' arms encircled him lovingly, and he wanted nothing more than to turn in his embrace and find their faces only inches apart. But he was unsure. The vision of Arwen was still there, her beautiful face, the love and support in her eyes, her wisdom, her agelessness; but then again, all these were present in Legolas, and ihe/i was here, holding him. He turned and found the Elf's bright eyes watching him guardedly.
The End. If you want to know what happens next, use your imagination; I know you have one.