A/N: I just wanted to write a short slashy vignette between man and elf. This takes place in movieverse mostly, in that scene on the balcony at night. So, if you don't like slash, don't read please. Other than that, enjoy. And oh yes, as for my disclaimers: all of these characters and places and events belong to Mr. JRR Tolkien, while a couple of dialogue lines go to Mr. Peter Jackson.
It was the wind that awoke him. The wind that swept mercilessly through the halls of the castle, leaving whispers and promises behind. It carried dark secrets with it, and a luring voice that begged to be obeyed. But the king heard only the promises, while the ranger heard the lies.
Aragorn was tired. He was tired of voices in the wind and in his mind and the growing ache within him. He had become weary of life and of ideals, and dreaded the fate that awaited him more than ever. It was thoughts like these, combined with the teasing wind, that pulled him out of bed for the second night in a row.
It was a bright night. But the brightness was deceptive, for the moonlight only shown through clouds and fog. Aragorn pushed himself from his bed, trying to wear off the heavy feeling in his limbs. He could see through the opening that served as a window Mount Doom in the distance, the clouds around it growing ever thicker. The stars themselves seemed dimmer above it, as if Arda herself was afraid of the twisted power within. The thickness that dwelt above and around the mountain only served as a tragic reminder to Aragorn that he had sent two children up it, most likely to their death.
The man stepped out onto the balcony adjacent to his rooms. For a moment, he only stood in the background, staring at the back of the hooded figure in front of him. He had always been slightly jealous of elves, though he admired them all greatly and had nearly been one himself in his youth. This one in particular caused feelings of regret within him, but he had never understood why.
"The eye of the enemy is upon us," Legolas finally spoke.
There was only a brief pause before Aragorn answered. "I know. It won't be long now."
At this the elf turned. "Mae govannen, Estel. Tis a good thing that you recognize the danger. There are many who cannot even do that."
Aragorn sighed and moved to join his companion at the edge of the balcony, leaning on the stone. "Ai, mellon-nin, I am heartened by your faith but can share none myself. I fear that this danger that I so easily recognize cannot be stopped by simple acknowledgement."
Legolas pushed the hood off of his head, as if to give the two a more personal connection. "Half of your danger is entirely that: yours. Estel, you bring this on yourself as much as Sauron does."
Aragorn's eyes flashed in brief confusion and slight anger at the elf's cryptic words. Legolas could not understand. No elf could understand. Perhaps that was part of why he had always been jealous of the Eldar, they did not need the burden of understanding that comes with being a mortal. They separated themselves from the problems of this world, with the gift of time on their side. "And what does that mean, Legolas? You think I want this? That I have asked for this fate, of having millions of people die under my command?"
Legolas, as was the way with elves, remained calm, causing Aragorn's anger and resentment to gather even greater. "No, Estel, I know quite well that you do not want it. But I also believe that death is all you can see…you have foreseen the deaths of the people of Rohan and Gondor and if they happen now it will be only because of your sad prophecy. You are to be king. You must show more faith in your people than that."
"And what would you have me do?" Aragorn hissed, well aware of how out of line he was. But he needed to say this, and he knew that Legolas would hear him out. "Force upon them the leadership of one cursed by blood? They do not want me and I cannot blame them."
Legolas merely stared back, with that unfaltering and unnerving gaze. The stare of an elf could pierce to the soul, or so was the saying among rangers. At that moment, Aragorn could actually feel Legolas reading him. Somehow, he thought the elf had been doing so all along. At length his unnerving companion spoke. "You forget, Estel, that if my father ever sails, I am to be a king as well. And as of now, my kingdom is far worse off than yours. You think I do not understand. You think no one can understand you. You simply will not let them try."
"At least you have known Thranduil," came the man's bitter voice. "I never met Arathorn…or Isildur, for whom I am more commonly known. I am glad."
"You speak of them so impersonally, edan." The term was not said in insult, but in gentleness and empathy. "Your father and all your ancestors are a part of you, and it is only in denying that fact that you condemn yourself to their fate. Arathorn was a good man at heart. Isildur was a good man as well, and it was not his fault that he was corrupted by powers beyond his control. You must give them that. We all have our faults."
Aragorn sighed and looked away. He simply stared into the distance, letting the haunting wind sweep by his face. He watched the elf's hair blow back and finally see that the immortal heard the same whispers and tempts that he did. He had simply learned to hide it. But on this dark night that held the fate of so many, this façade began to crumble. As Aragorn thought this, he knew that Legolas had never had a façade. It had always been he with the mask that he didn't want to know was there.
He sighed and let his shoulders sag, and it was as if with this one motion years of pain were unlocked upon his usually stoic face. "The faults of a mortal are far different from that of an elf, mellon. For us…there is no time."
At this Legolas did not cast his unsettling stare upon the man, but for once looked troubled, an unfamiliar expression upon his features. "This is what I have never understood. This concept of time…or of no time. As long as you exist you have been given some time. What is it you fear will not happen?"
Aragorn snuck a glance at the elf, before retreating into shadows, stretching his tired legs. He leaned upon the wall of the castle, gazing once again at Legolas from a distance. This time, however, they faced each other candidly. "It is not so much the concept of fear as the idea of regrets. There are many things I will never be able to do in my life, and many I have not done that I should have. Yet for you elves…you have all the time you need, or no time at all depending on how you look at it. You must have no regrets."
"Nay, Estel," said Legolas in calm understanding. He came to stand close to the man, who moved off the wall as he approached. They had switched positions, it was now Legolas who leaned on the wall and Aragorn who stood nervously before him. "What is regretful for you is terrifying for us. For you it is sadness and for us it is fear, because if we have left something undone and have had centuries in which to do it, then it is far worse. Or even if we have done this thing and rid ourselves of our regrets, whatever unseen consequences there could be will live with us into eternity. I know of regrets, simply in a different form."
At this speech, Aragorn had clasped Legolas's hand and looked down at the slim fingers he held so tightly. "You cannot know of what I speak…I have left so many things undone…and done so many that I should not have…"
The man stammered, and Legolas could see the tears threatening to fall from his eyes. In a gesture of comfort, he moved closer to Aragorn, meaning to put an arm on his shoulder, but instead found himself confronted with Aragorn's eyes a very short distance from his own. And in that one moment he understood all of what the man thought he did not. He saw pain, anger, bitterness, sadness, and the small light that was hope behind those eyes and knew that Aragorn saw the same and more in his. On instinct he moved closer, seeking out what he had already started to see. Aragorn slowly wrapped an arm around his waist, and tilted the elf's head to align with his own. Legolas knew what was going to happen before it did, and he did nothing to stop it. Their lips met in the briefest of kisses, leaving much to be desired but telling everything that was needed.
The two solemn figures were interrupted from their reverie by a scream from inside. "Pippin…" Aragorn started, pushing Legolas off him and finding the energy to run. For now, there was no time.
The elf looked back once more at the mountain, its haze looming brighter than ever in the distance. "He is here," he muttered to Aragorn's back.
Perhaps in the future, when the world was at peace again, they would not have to run and part so quickly. Perhaps no one, mortal or immortal, would be interrupted by time. But for now the two pushed forward, willing to resolve their regrets as they could, not yet knowing if tomorrow would give them the chance to tell the truths they hid so well.