It is dark, so dark that I can barely see the hand before my face. There is
nothing between this blackness and me; nothing to stop my person, my very
soul, from being enveloped in the never-ending shadow. But for this I am
glad, for when I see the first ray of light, I know that I must leave. I
try to unfocus my mind, and concentrate on the warm body pressed to my
side, the gentle rise and fall of the bare chest against my own. I let my
sword-callused hand draw patterns over the pale skin, feeling the softness,
the pure agelessness of the one that has been my beacon in the raging storm
for months, nay, years. I now press my palm gently over his heart, feeling
the steady beat that timed in rhythm to the organ within my own chest,
except for the act that his will beat eternally, and mine has only a small
while left before I fall into the perpetual obscurity of death. But for
now, we are together, if only for a few more hours; I can feel the seconds
moving by as though they were the pulsation of my own heart, each second
one small step closer to my attenuated rest.
He is radiant, an eternal flame in a sea of so many lost souls. He will live on forever, an immortal, and yet I shall falter, proving that I was not strong enough to stay in the world and be by his side. He will be the last of the Nine to live, the last to draw breath. And that breath will never end, and he will be granted the permission to walk the earth until the Valar call upon him to cross the sea, to Valinor. He promised he would not leave until I myself die, and I silently pray that the day will never come. There has been no vows spoken between us, no words of love, only those that were designed in lust and passion, not that those meant much. I do not, cannot hold any love for him, I am bound to another. She will be my Queen, and rule my city, my people, and my lands. I love her deeply, but am I in love with her? Of course, I have to be, for I have felt no feeling stronger then what I know when I am with her. I do not love any other, not even the flaxen beauty that has been my constant companion for all this time.
He does not stir in his sleep, and all I can do is stare into those blissfully vacant eyes that I can only see the glow of in this dreaded gloom of the room we reside in. I can see, though, with my minds' eye, what those optics of his look like, I remember everyday, they haunt my sleep, his eyes, with such a burning cerulean intensity that never failed to make a shiver run down my spine. They are always so full of expression, it is easy to tell what he is thinking; though of late, they have been growing dimmer and dimmer, he knows that I soon my leave. I have not dwelt on how much my marrying her will hurt him, and I do not want to. To tarry too long on a thought brings regret; I have no regret. She is my love, my only true desire; I could not live without her. And yet, why, when I think about my future, why does it always seem to bleak of I try and create a blind spot where he is concerned? He is my best friend, of course. This is what I tell myself whenever the thought enters my mind, for I do not wish to have admission about my marriage. I need her, I need to keep my kingdom alive, I need and heir, I need respect. Why then, have all of my thoughts of love turn to simple need for her instead of actual feeling?
He gives a small cry in his sleep, and my attention is turned to him. His eyes are still vacant, as they always are in his sleep, but he has tensed, as though plagued by some sudden fear. I bring my hand from his chest to run it through his golden hair, savoring the silky feeling in the nooks of my fingers. I whisper soft endearments in his own language, for I know that it would be more soothing then the rough tongue of Men. I can feel his muscles relax slightly, though not entirely, as though his fear had merely been deferred instead of vanquished. His arms, that he had wrapped about my body after last nights' passionate lovemaking, grew tighter, as though in fear that I would leave him. Alas, beautiful one, I must, and dawn approaches. He had been strong about the fact that I must go to her, so strong that he had almost been indifferent, but I saw through the mask. It was one of many he kept, one of many that he had made to wear to fool others into believing what could not be possible. No tears had been shed from those burning eyes, the only sorrow that he ever showed was in his dreams, in the rare intervals that he placed aside his masks, and allowed the emotional pain that he was enduring so bravely leak out into the oblivion. I am sorry, dear one, that I am making you suffer so. Soon, it will be over, and you can sail to Valinor and forget me. You promised that you would abide here until I myself pass into the Darkened Gate of Beyond. Will you miss me, when I pass? Yes, I know you will, you have shown too much care for me as best friend turned temporary lover for you not to.
I must relish the time I have left with him, I must memorize him, for this will be the last time we are ever together so intimately. I have a duty to uphold, and though I detest myself for being so cruel, I must tear off our relationship, for I will belong to her by the first light of day. She will give me her heart to keep under lock and key, and she shall have mine to do with as she pleases. There is nothing that can stop this; it is for the good of my people. It is for the good of my life, a life that he has had a dominant role in. My future holds nothing for him, nothing in the great white walls of my city; it would only bring affliction upon this delicate creature. There will be many years yet that I have to spend my days, and yet he will not see it that way. To his immortal eyes, my years are mere seconds that pass as quickly as one fluttering eyelid to the next.
Now, I ease myself away from him, gently unwinding his long, well muscled arms from my person, and my own from his. Dawn will be here, in a matter of moments, but I have had no sleep. I will remember this night with him, and feel the grief that he will hold for perhaps centuries to come. I know he loves me, but I cannot love him; I have caused him immense pain, and yet he has not shunned me, nor given me bad feeling. I now untangle myself from the bed sheets that were left in a snarled mess after last nights' furious passion, and stand, my unclothed body contracting a brief shiver before I pull on my attire, painstakingly slow. This will be my last time with him, and I do not wish it to go by quickly. I lean over the edge of the bed, and smooth the fair strands of hair from his pale pallored features, placing a gentle kiss to his slightly parted lips, before pulling myself away, and bestowing a kiss upon his forehead.
A brother's kiss, my last kiss to him. I pray he does not suffer, not upon my own sake; I do not deserve his grieving, for I have been unfaithful to him, though I swore myself to her before him. I know that he understands; else he would have left me long ago, when I told him that someday I must go to her, instead of staying with him, as I should have. This I know, for in my heart of hearts, I know that he is truly the one that holds my heart, for though I love her, I am in love with him. Goodbye, dear one, rest silently these last few minutes, rest quietly. Do not waste your love on me, it can never become of anything, for she holds my fate in her hands. A brother's kiss, dear one, our last kiss.
________
Authors' Notes: Well... That came unexpected. This may seem a little confusing, as all I used to refer to people were 'I', 'he', and 'she'. I will explain who these people are, for the sake of all of you. 'I', is Aragorn, 'he' is Legolas, and 'she' is the infamous Arwen. I hope I didn't dampen everyone's parade because I didn't make this a mushy Aragorn | Legolas love fic... Deepest apologies, I hope you liked it anyway!
Truly, I am in a fix as to if I should create another chapter, going deeper into the mindset of the (non-existent) plot. Some feedback on this particular quandary would be highly appreciated, through email or review. Thank you very much.
. apathetic stare
He is radiant, an eternal flame in a sea of so many lost souls. He will live on forever, an immortal, and yet I shall falter, proving that I was not strong enough to stay in the world and be by his side. He will be the last of the Nine to live, the last to draw breath. And that breath will never end, and he will be granted the permission to walk the earth until the Valar call upon him to cross the sea, to Valinor. He promised he would not leave until I myself die, and I silently pray that the day will never come. There has been no vows spoken between us, no words of love, only those that were designed in lust and passion, not that those meant much. I do not, cannot hold any love for him, I am bound to another. She will be my Queen, and rule my city, my people, and my lands. I love her deeply, but am I in love with her? Of course, I have to be, for I have felt no feeling stronger then what I know when I am with her. I do not love any other, not even the flaxen beauty that has been my constant companion for all this time.
He does not stir in his sleep, and all I can do is stare into those blissfully vacant eyes that I can only see the glow of in this dreaded gloom of the room we reside in. I can see, though, with my minds' eye, what those optics of his look like, I remember everyday, they haunt my sleep, his eyes, with such a burning cerulean intensity that never failed to make a shiver run down my spine. They are always so full of expression, it is easy to tell what he is thinking; though of late, they have been growing dimmer and dimmer, he knows that I soon my leave. I have not dwelt on how much my marrying her will hurt him, and I do not want to. To tarry too long on a thought brings regret; I have no regret. She is my love, my only true desire; I could not live without her. And yet, why, when I think about my future, why does it always seem to bleak of I try and create a blind spot where he is concerned? He is my best friend, of course. This is what I tell myself whenever the thought enters my mind, for I do not wish to have admission about my marriage. I need her, I need to keep my kingdom alive, I need and heir, I need respect. Why then, have all of my thoughts of love turn to simple need for her instead of actual feeling?
He gives a small cry in his sleep, and my attention is turned to him. His eyes are still vacant, as they always are in his sleep, but he has tensed, as though plagued by some sudden fear. I bring my hand from his chest to run it through his golden hair, savoring the silky feeling in the nooks of my fingers. I whisper soft endearments in his own language, for I know that it would be more soothing then the rough tongue of Men. I can feel his muscles relax slightly, though not entirely, as though his fear had merely been deferred instead of vanquished. His arms, that he had wrapped about my body after last nights' passionate lovemaking, grew tighter, as though in fear that I would leave him. Alas, beautiful one, I must, and dawn approaches. He had been strong about the fact that I must go to her, so strong that he had almost been indifferent, but I saw through the mask. It was one of many he kept, one of many that he had made to wear to fool others into believing what could not be possible. No tears had been shed from those burning eyes, the only sorrow that he ever showed was in his dreams, in the rare intervals that he placed aside his masks, and allowed the emotional pain that he was enduring so bravely leak out into the oblivion. I am sorry, dear one, that I am making you suffer so. Soon, it will be over, and you can sail to Valinor and forget me. You promised that you would abide here until I myself pass into the Darkened Gate of Beyond. Will you miss me, when I pass? Yes, I know you will, you have shown too much care for me as best friend turned temporary lover for you not to.
I must relish the time I have left with him, I must memorize him, for this will be the last time we are ever together so intimately. I have a duty to uphold, and though I detest myself for being so cruel, I must tear off our relationship, for I will belong to her by the first light of day. She will give me her heart to keep under lock and key, and she shall have mine to do with as she pleases. There is nothing that can stop this; it is for the good of my people. It is for the good of my life, a life that he has had a dominant role in. My future holds nothing for him, nothing in the great white walls of my city; it would only bring affliction upon this delicate creature. There will be many years yet that I have to spend my days, and yet he will not see it that way. To his immortal eyes, my years are mere seconds that pass as quickly as one fluttering eyelid to the next.
Now, I ease myself away from him, gently unwinding his long, well muscled arms from my person, and my own from his. Dawn will be here, in a matter of moments, but I have had no sleep. I will remember this night with him, and feel the grief that he will hold for perhaps centuries to come. I know he loves me, but I cannot love him; I have caused him immense pain, and yet he has not shunned me, nor given me bad feeling. I now untangle myself from the bed sheets that were left in a snarled mess after last nights' furious passion, and stand, my unclothed body contracting a brief shiver before I pull on my attire, painstakingly slow. This will be my last time with him, and I do not wish it to go by quickly. I lean over the edge of the bed, and smooth the fair strands of hair from his pale pallored features, placing a gentle kiss to his slightly parted lips, before pulling myself away, and bestowing a kiss upon his forehead.
A brother's kiss, my last kiss to him. I pray he does not suffer, not upon my own sake; I do not deserve his grieving, for I have been unfaithful to him, though I swore myself to her before him. I know that he understands; else he would have left me long ago, when I told him that someday I must go to her, instead of staying with him, as I should have. This I know, for in my heart of hearts, I know that he is truly the one that holds my heart, for though I love her, I am in love with him. Goodbye, dear one, rest silently these last few minutes, rest quietly. Do not waste your love on me, it can never become of anything, for she holds my fate in her hands. A brother's kiss, dear one, our last kiss.
________
Authors' Notes: Well... That came unexpected. This may seem a little confusing, as all I used to refer to people were 'I', 'he', and 'she'. I will explain who these people are, for the sake of all of you. 'I', is Aragorn, 'he' is Legolas, and 'she' is the infamous Arwen. I hope I didn't dampen everyone's parade because I didn't make this a mushy Aragorn | Legolas love fic... Deepest apologies, I hope you liked it anyway!
Truly, I am in a fix as to if I should create another chapter, going deeper into the mindset of the (non-existent) plot. Some feedback on this particular quandary would be highly appreciated, through email or review. Thank you very much.
. apathetic stare