Walking Towards Heaven
Author: Jade Constantine
Rating: PG
Pairing: Aragorn/Legolas
Summary:Legolas' thoughts as he makes his way towards Aragorn, the man he loves, at the coronation in RotK.
Warnings: This is based on a male/male relationship. If you aren't open minded enough to accept that, read something else. And this is sort of an AU, but it's not. I mess with both Helm's Deep and the Coronation. I needed a happy A/L ending. There are also toxic amounts of angst in this fic. If you are not a fan of angst, this is so not the fic for you.
Feedback:Oh yes, please! Try to be a little gentle though, this is my first attempt at an actual finished slash fic.
Disclaimer:I do not own anything that belongs in Middle Earth.
Email: shiningaquastaryahoo.com
Author's Notes: If the text is in italics, it is a flashback.
She's concealing herself behind a banner. She wants it to be a surprise.
I agreed to it of course. What else was I supposed to do? Confess to Lord Elrond and Arwen about my feelings for Aragorn? I'm sure that would have gone over well.
After all, he loves her. Not me.
I see him up ahead. His voice, rich and sweet like honey, is ringing out in song. Everyone is gazing up at him, eyes full of admiration. Perhaps they finally see what I have seen since the day I met him. In him flows the blood of a leader; someone who will fight to the death for what he believes in and loves. However, even that did not stop him from rebelling against his destiny earlier in his life. Back then, he was known as Strider, the Ranger from the North; a deadly shadow flying across Middle Earth, hunting those who sought to destroy it. He respects the land as much as any Elf could. Part of that respect is exploring the land, taking in its beauty. That respect allowed our paths to cross.
The day was one of the most glorious days that Middle Earth had ever seen. Legolas had been away from Mirkwood for a few weeks exploring when he came upon a magnificent clearing. Exhausted, Legolas collapsed onto the mossy ground. No sooner had he started relaxing, he heard something moving nearby. Being cautious, he slowly got up and pulled out his bow, ready to strike if necessary.
"Calm yourself, fair Elf. I don't intend to cause you harm."
Legolas turned toward the deep, resonant voice only to lay his eyes upon a raven-haired Man. His breath hitched in his chest and he lost all logical thought. The angelic, disheveled creature looked at Legolas with midnight blue eyes, studying him as much as Legolas was studying the Man.
"Who are you?" was all Legolas could manage. He could see the hesitation in the Man's eyes.
"I am known throughout these lands as a Ranger named Strider. My true identity is Aragorn, son of Arathorn." His voice held an air of uneasiness.
"Please forgive me, but it seems as if you hide something else." Legolas took a step closer, his heart almost bursting from his chest. "Who are you?"
Young Aragorn looked into Legolas' eyes, as if he was trying to figure out why Legolas inquired him further. After a few moments of silence, Aragorn finally spoke.
"I am Isildur's heir; next in line to the throne of Gondor."
Legolas smiled faintly.
"Running away from responsibility are we?"
Aragorn chuckled and tension released the grasp it had on his body.
"Yes, you could say that," Aragorn whispered, all the while finding himself drowning in the pools of hazel that were upon him. The Elf already knew more about him than most people even dared to find out. There was gentleness in the Elf's smile and in his eyes that made Aragorn feel at ease. He knew he could trust him, even though he didn't even know the Elf's name.
"Well stranger, you have managed to pry more information out of me than I care to give out. Let me at least know your name."
The Elf smiled again. "I am Legolas, Prince of Mirkwood. I left my home a few weeks ago to do some exploring. I found this spot and decided to rest my weary spirit." Legolas found himself grinning from ear to pointy ear. This Man was having an unusual effect on him; he usually wasn't this open with strangers. The light danced across Aragorn's chiseled face, thick with stubble and grime. This was no ordinary Ranger.
Aragorn noticed the sparkle of the Elf's golden hair in the sunlight and his flawless skin. Aragorn had lived with Elves since he was a young child, but none had the impeccable beauty that Legolas possessed.
"Well, Legolas of Mirkwood, I am pleased that our paths have crossed."
"So am I, Aragorn, son of Arathorn."
My happiest memory only reminds me of what I am here to do. I'm here to deliver the woman he loves. I am here to make him happy.
Love works in strange ways. I feel as if I am dieing inside, yet my logic is telling me that I am making him happy, and that's all I really wanted in the first place; for Aragorn to be happy.
All the while, this slow procession is killing me, each step like a stab in the heart. I only remember one other time when I felt this way.
And that was on the brink of war.
"Then I shall die as one of them!"
Legolas felt his heart plummet to his stomach as Aragorn turned his back on Legolas in fury. He took a step forward, only to feel a calloused hand upon his shoulder restraining him.
"Let him go," Gimli said in a low, but sympathetic voice.
Legolas felt the wheels in his head turning, trying to comprehend what had just passed. Aragorn was refusing to see the inevitable truth; the struggle for Helm's Deep was futile.
But as the weight of that truth came down upon him, Legolas realized what a fool he was. He had driven Aragorn away from him when he needed his support the most. What if Aragorn, the one person Legolas devoted his loyalty to no matter what, fell in battle?
But Aragorn would not die. It would be Legolas that would die, out of the two of them. Aragorn was always the stronger one. Tears began to fall down Legolas' pastel cheeks.
"Gimli, what have I done?" Legolas whispered.
"He means a lot to you, doesn't he?"
Legolas looked at Gimli, bearing his heart and his feelings in his eyes. Gimli smiled, now understanding Legolas' sudden despair.
"Go to him. You two cannot go into battle with a silly dispute between you. Make amends."
Legolas immediately made his way through the fort, searching intensely. When he finally spotted Aragorn, he was talking to a young boy, clad with armor and with a distinct fear in his eyes. The boy had given Aragorn his sword, and he did a few slashes in the air with it.
He then spoke, the words standing out in the tense night.
"This is a good sword, Hammond, son of Hannon."
Aragorn then bent down, placing his hand on Hammond's shoulder.
"There is always Hope."
The boy gave a slight smile and nodded. Aragorn then made haste to the armory to prepare for battle.
Little did he know, but his dearest friend the Elf was following him quickly and quietly.
When Legolas entered the room, Aragorn didn't even notice. He was too busy adjusting his armor, making sure everything was in place. Legolas crept to his side, Aragorn still paying him no attention. He picked up Aragorn's sword as Aragorn reached for it, his gaze leaving the table and ending up on Legolas' face. Legolas gave him an apologetic smile, handing him his sword.
"I am sorry I questioned you. You have led us this far, and you have not led us astray."
Aragorn noticed the Elf was trying his best not to make eye contact with him. In a matter of seconds, he reached for Legolas' chin and made him look into his eyes. There was so much fear lingering there, so much despair. Aragorn wanted to take it all away, to somehow give his friend Hope. After giving a slight smile, he kissed Legolas on the forehead lightly, pulling him close and placing his other hand on Legolas' shoulder.
"Don't apologize Legolas."
Legolas was speechless. He put his hand on Aragorn's shoulder, returning the usual gesture. He found his heart opening up, and knew that now was the time to speak the truth; not the whole truth, but what mattered in this moment.
"I will follow you until death claims me."
"Hannon le Legolas."
He sees me now, and when our gazes lock, time slows down all around me. This march is lasting for an eternity. If it were not for my Elven senses telling me to maintain my calm façade, I would most likely collapse on the ground in tears, screaming something about irony and stabbing myself through the heart with Anduril.
We walk toward each other, both of us knowing that this may be one of the last times we see one another. I'm leaving for Valinor soon. Maybe there I can forget this man and not perish from a broken heart.
Through all my inner turmoil, I cannot stop myself from smiling. He is perfect. His smile, the crown, the look in his eyes; Estel was made to be a king.
I breathe in his scent; the musk of a warrior, with a hint of peppermint. I try to hide my dizzy spell, but my next few steps are uncoordinated until I regain my composure. His scent, his voice, his words; anything about him could turn my world upside down.
I give a short glance backwards to Arwen, making sure this almost theatrical performance is staged just right. She nods, and I pretend to be ready. Lights. Camera. Action. Legolas' demise, take one.
I lift my hand and let it rest on his shoulder. No longer wanting to avoid his gaze, I look into Aragorn's eyes. He's so beautiful. He grasps my shoulder in return, and we bask in the silence surrounding us. I try to read his face, the look in his eyes, while at the same time trying to disguise mine, trying not to betray my secret.
"Hannon le."
I nod, trying to hold back the tears building up behind my eyes; trying to force back the want to take his face in my hands and kiss him with every thread of passion in me. I want to take him in my arms and hold him forever. I want him to know that I didn't follow him just because he knew what was best and that he would not lead me in the wrong direction; I followed him, I fought for him, because I love him.
My breathing is irregular, and I know he can sense that I am not at peace in any way. Why isn't Arwen following through? She should be lowering her banner right about now, and Aragorn is supposed to see her, go into a slight shock, and then kiss his queen and live happily ever after.
"Hello Arwen."
That's all he has to say to the woman he loves? What is going on here?
"Hello Estel. You look wonderful."
"Thank you."
I turn to Elrond with a questioning and confused look on my face. All he does is smile at me.
"Legolas."
"Aragorn, what is go--"
"Legolas."
His hands, tan and rough, cup the pale smooth skin of my face.
"Am I dreaming?" I ask, my voice shaking.
"No dear Legolas. This isn't a dream. It's quite real."
And with that, his lips press against mine. I let go of all the fear, tension, and hurt inside me and give in. It isn't a dream. Aragorn is kissing me, parting my lips with his tongue, sharing his essence, searching for mine. I return his kiss with all I have; all my admiration, all my loyalty, and all my love.
He breaks the kiss and looks at me as we both catch our breath. I smile, but also find tears running down my cheeks. All the emotion I've been bottling up for so long is releasing itself.
"Don't cry, sweet Prince of Mirkwood."
"Aragorn, I --"
He presses his fingers to my lips, quieting me instantly.
"I love you Legolas, with every part of my soul. You believed in me even when I did not believe in myself. You stood by me in my darkest hours. You were willing to die for me. It is now my turn. I give myself to you. Be with me. "
"And Arwen?"
"She's known since I've known. Legolas, I love you. Stay here. Don't go to Valinor."
The words I have longed for what seems like eternity are finally spoken for everyone to hear. He loves me. I love him.
Maybe I can have a happy ending after all.
"I love you Aragorn."
He kisses me again tenderly, and I finally feel at peace. I feel complete.
He takes my hand, and we walk the rest of what was a slow agonizing path together.
Except now that he is by my side, it's more like heaven.
fin.