Aragon let the silence linger a long while after he had approached. The King of Men simply stood beside Legolas and gazed out to the horizon, wondering the elf's languid, lingering perusal. A tumult was crashing against his soul, but at this time it was not his troubles that concerned him. It was true he regretted his former sharpness towards his life-long friend and comrade; he felt the prick of Legolas's hurts deeper than he acknowledged even to himself.
The silence was so complete and comfortable, despite everything, that Aragorn was loathe to shatter it. He kept his voice soft.
"Forgive me, Legolas," he whispered in the lilting, elven tongue. There was silence again and the sun slowly sank further away from them.
When Aragorn was about to withdraw, saddened by elf's unwillingness to speak, Legolas turned. The King of Men was still shocked at the way the elf's beauty still moved him. The age-old and youthfully perfect face was soft and tender. Legolas's eyes reached out to pull him in and Aragorn felt once again the heart-wrenching sensation of vertigo that he'd been powerless to resist in the past. How could any man have the power to resist this? So deep a blue and so shocking the expression in them. Such a love he saw in those eyes it made him ache for he knew he could never deserve such a love. But against the ache was the warmth sprung from a mutual desire that they had grasped together, long ago. But the warmth still lingered despite time and pain. Aragorn had not pushed away in fear like so many others and it had made Legolas's love the stronger for it. But what they had now, after so much, was something more and yet less than love. An understanding. A comprehension which is shared with little except with one who can never truly leave you alone. Aragon and Legolas between them understood far more about each other's needs and feelings than love could allow. It was a friendship beyond friendship for they knew when to hold tight, but they also knew when to let go.
Aragorn felt the comforting touch of smooth elven fingers against his cheek but let his eyes swim with the ocean in the elf's eyes.
"As you said to me not twelve hours ago, Aragorn," he said. "There is nothing to forgive." He seemed wistful and sad. Aragorn thought he knew too much of the elf's pain. It was knowledge he was not meant to possess. He could not understand how to hold it without bloodying fingers, but he could not bare to cast it aside.
Aragorn still did not understand what it was he had seen on top of the Hornburg and he still was not entirely certain that he was comfortable with it. He remembered the look on Eomer's face…
But Aragorn had had his chance and he could not now pursue privileges he did not have; Legolas had held out his hand to him a long time ago, but all Aragorn had been able to cope with was brushing his lips against the knuckles. He had since taken the hand of another, another who his heart ached for in her absence and in whose company he felt refreshed and glowing with the love they shared. He truly loved Arwen, adored her in every way a man can adore a woman. He knew he was hers forever. But what he and Legolas shared was something that was not confined to the boundaries of forever. It was something more, something above everything. Their friendship was no stronger than the love he had for Arwen but something different, deeper and yet more casual, simple and yet far more complex.
Legolas's eyes were cool but troubled. "If there is any forgiveness required, Aragorn, it is I that should beg it of you. These black times try to bury us alive with darkness and it was selfish of me to vent my anger on you."
"Not at all," Aragorn replied. "Fear weighs in us all Legolas and you must not think it evil to realise your feelings."
Legolas looked him straight in the eye, a curious expression stealing over his face. A confusion that settled into understanding. "You speak the truth Aragorn. You see more of me than I can."
"I know it's hard," said Aragorn, taking the elf's hand where it still lingered on his shoulder and clasped it between his own. "None of us have had to face this sort of danger before. This evil is pulling us in many new directions. I am not certain if I can - "
"If you intend to say that you are not certain if you can cope with these tasks then stay your breath," Legolas said firmly. He pulled his hand out of Aragorn's grasp and put them on the man's shoulders. "Is it the way of all men to doubt the keenness of their mettle when it is enough to draw blood of any who confront it?" His face was so sincere and his voice so grave it surprised Aragorn. "Never doubt your worth in my presence again, Son of Arathorn, or you may find my wrath enough to test it," a smile melted the hardness in his eyes. "But not enough to break it."
Aragorn returned the smile. The sun disappeared and the fiery glare sank to a smoky glow that wrapped them both in lazy warmth.
Smiling again, Legolas turned away to look at the sky again. Aragorn sighed in contentment, reassured of himself. But not of his friend. Clearly earlier troubles where still concerning the elven prince. Though the discussion of the fear of hard times had lessened the sharpness of his private doubts, Legolas was obviously still suffering in trying to handle this very new experience of being afraid.
Aragorn crept up close behind him and wrapped his arms around the elf's waist. He rested his face in the elf's neck and Legolas leant back into the comforting embrace.
"Legolas," Aragorn asked softly. "Would you come to me tonight?" The understanding that bound them tighter than cord gave this suggestion an extra depth that shuddered in their souls with a comforting familiarity. They weren't alone. The suggestion, however, was all that was needed to remind Legolas of this and to comfort him. He politely declined. Aragorn was not offended. He was just offering himself as a way to comfort the elven prince and to make sure he knew without a doubt that he was not alone. Aragorn realised Legolas already knew this and it did, indeed, bring him as much comfort as could be gleaned.
They stood there together until the stars glittered at the last light of the sun had died. They parted having achieved nothing and everything all at once. Aragorn left Legolas on top of the hill to analyse his own new fears. Aragorn knew now there was nothing he could do to help his comrade learn to grasp these new feelings. All he could do was provide a warmth around the coldness. He knew Legolas was grateful for what he did give and neither would do without it.
The stars rolled on over Helm's Deep paying little or no heed to the blood on the stones and the tears in the air. The sky yawned on forever into blackness passing over a million lives and showing no marks from the process. Nothing knew forever like the sky.
TBC
The silence was so complete and comfortable, despite everything, that Aragorn was loathe to shatter it. He kept his voice soft.
"Forgive me, Legolas," he whispered in the lilting, elven tongue. There was silence again and the sun slowly sank further away from them.
When Aragorn was about to withdraw, saddened by elf's unwillingness to speak, Legolas turned. The King of Men was still shocked at the way the elf's beauty still moved him. The age-old and youthfully perfect face was soft and tender. Legolas's eyes reached out to pull him in and Aragorn felt once again the heart-wrenching sensation of vertigo that he'd been powerless to resist in the past. How could any man have the power to resist this? So deep a blue and so shocking the expression in them. Such a love he saw in those eyes it made him ache for he knew he could never deserve such a love. But against the ache was the warmth sprung from a mutual desire that they had grasped together, long ago. But the warmth still lingered despite time and pain. Aragorn had not pushed away in fear like so many others and it had made Legolas's love the stronger for it. But what they had now, after so much, was something more and yet less than love. An understanding. A comprehension which is shared with little except with one who can never truly leave you alone. Aragon and Legolas between them understood far more about each other's needs and feelings than love could allow. It was a friendship beyond friendship for they knew when to hold tight, but they also knew when to let go.
Aragorn felt the comforting touch of smooth elven fingers against his cheek but let his eyes swim with the ocean in the elf's eyes.
"As you said to me not twelve hours ago, Aragorn," he said. "There is nothing to forgive." He seemed wistful and sad. Aragorn thought he knew too much of the elf's pain. It was knowledge he was not meant to possess. He could not understand how to hold it without bloodying fingers, but he could not bare to cast it aside.
Aragorn still did not understand what it was he had seen on top of the Hornburg and he still was not entirely certain that he was comfortable with it. He remembered the look on Eomer's face…
But Aragorn had had his chance and he could not now pursue privileges he did not have; Legolas had held out his hand to him a long time ago, but all Aragorn had been able to cope with was brushing his lips against the knuckles. He had since taken the hand of another, another who his heart ached for in her absence and in whose company he felt refreshed and glowing with the love they shared. He truly loved Arwen, adored her in every way a man can adore a woman. He knew he was hers forever. But what he and Legolas shared was something that was not confined to the boundaries of forever. It was something more, something above everything. Their friendship was no stronger than the love he had for Arwen but something different, deeper and yet more casual, simple and yet far more complex.
Legolas's eyes were cool but troubled. "If there is any forgiveness required, Aragorn, it is I that should beg it of you. These black times try to bury us alive with darkness and it was selfish of me to vent my anger on you."
"Not at all," Aragorn replied. "Fear weighs in us all Legolas and you must not think it evil to realise your feelings."
Legolas looked him straight in the eye, a curious expression stealing over his face. A confusion that settled into understanding. "You speak the truth Aragorn. You see more of me than I can."
"I know it's hard," said Aragorn, taking the elf's hand where it still lingered on his shoulder and clasped it between his own. "None of us have had to face this sort of danger before. This evil is pulling us in many new directions. I am not certain if I can - "
"If you intend to say that you are not certain if you can cope with these tasks then stay your breath," Legolas said firmly. He pulled his hand out of Aragorn's grasp and put them on the man's shoulders. "Is it the way of all men to doubt the keenness of their mettle when it is enough to draw blood of any who confront it?" His face was so sincere and his voice so grave it surprised Aragorn. "Never doubt your worth in my presence again, Son of Arathorn, or you may find my wrath enough to test it," a smile melted the hardness in his eyes. "But not enough to break it."
Aragorn returned the smile. The sun disappeared and the fiery glare sank to a smoky glow that wrapped them both in lazy warmth.
Smiling again, Legolas turned away to look at the sky again. Aragorn sighed in contentment, reassured of himself. But not of his friend. Clearly earlier troubles where still concerning the elven prince. Though the discussion of the fear of hard times had lessened the sharpness of his private doubts, Legolas was obviously still suffering in trying to handle this very new experience of being afraid.
Aragorn crept up close behind him and wrapped his arms around the elf's waist. He rested his face in the elf's neck and Legolas leant back into the comforting embrace.
"Legolas," Aragorn asked softly. "Would you come to me tonight?" The understanding that bound them tighter than cord gave this suggestion an extra depth that shuddered in their souls with a comforting familiarity. They weren't alone. The suggestion, however, was all that was needed to remind Legolas of this and to comfort him. He politely declined. Aragorn was not offended. He was just offering himself as a way to comfort the elven prince and to make sure he knew without a doubt that he was not alone. Aragorn realised Legolas already knew this and it did, indeed, bring him as much comfort as could be gleaned.
They stood there together until the stars glittered at the last light of the sun had died. They parted having achieved nothing and everything all at once. Aragorn left Legolas on top of the hill to analyse his own new fears. Aragorn knew now there was nothing he could do to help his comrade learn to grasp these new feelings. All he could do was provide a warmth around the coldness. He knew Legolas was grateful for what he did give and neither would do without it.
The stars rolled on over Helm's Deep paying little or no heed to the blood on the stones and the tears in the air. The sky yawned on forever into blackness passing over a million lives and showing no marks from the process. Nothing knew forever like the sky.
TBC