Author's Note: This is remarkably angsty towards the end and really the
next chapter is to be read in direct continuation but I am still editing
it, so please bear with. Sorry if this one is too long; the next one should
be shorter.
Author's Note 2: Thanks in advance for waiting so patiently for me to update, and hope you like it.
------------------------------------------------
Elrond had, surprisingly enough, slept remarkably deeply following his difficult conversation with Estel. Now, only a short time to first light, he was lying in bed and thinking somewhat optimistically about the entire situation.
True, Estel was a little more sunk in his delusions than he had expected, but Elrond was certain that it could be handled in a mature and diplomatic fashion. After all, had the Elf Lord not put aside his urge to shout and cringe and deny, and dealt with the issue with a little more tact and reason?
The pale fingers of dawn began to creep into his window, trailing delicate patterns on the floor and burnishing the golden wood furniture to a high sheen. Fragrances from the garden wafted gently in with the warming breeze.
The half elf sighed and nodded. Oh yes, today was made to be a new start without fear of worry and trouble.
And yet he did admit to feeling a little melancholy as well. It had been a long time since he'd had a lover and fifty years of abstinence from all sorts of physical pleasures could prove to be tricky. Particularly if Estel intended to repeat his simple but effective seduction of the evening before!
Elrond shivered in remembered appreciation of the warm tongue that had gently slithered against his ear, of the warm lips that had pressed insistently against his own with sweet tenderness and urgent need. He stared down at his hands clenched in the covers of his big but empty bed. Even summer nights could be cold when one slept alone, and the Elf Lord was acutely attuned to his loneliness. Half his unexpected desire to let Estel pleasure him had arisen from the seductive need to wake up beside someone else again.
"Ai, Elbereth, I am getting too old for this," he groaned, burying his head beneath the covers.
"I wouldn't say so," an amused voice remarked.
Elrond shot upright with a gasp, eyes wide in apprehension as Aragorn swung into his bedroom via the window and a convenient tree outside. The youth was dressed simply enough in a loose tunic and leggings, his wiry slimness displayed perfectly with the informal garb. Elrond felt positively indecent sitting half-naked in bed. He keenly felt the breeze on his bare shoulders and chest, having to force his hands not to hike up the thin sheet to cover his unclothed torso.
Aragorn's mischievous eyes twinkled as he shook his head. "Nay, Ada, do not fear my intentions. I will not embarrass you further on that subject." His foster father actually betrayed himself with an audible sigh of relief. "I was out walking,' Aragorn explained, "And I got the sudden urge to climb a tree. So I did."
"Outside my bedroom window?" A dark eyebrow rose in dubious enquiry.
Aragorn laughed quietly at the tentative teasing. "No, my Lord,' he murmured, eyes dancing wickedly as he tried to look demure, "it was another one. But it was near enough that I saw you awake so I came to keep you company. I thought we could talk like we used to."
Suddenly the day brightened again. Estel had admitted his mistake and relinquished his infatuation! Elrond Peredhel could smile happily and hold out a hand to his beloved foster son once more. It had always been a source of great amusement to the household that the child Estel was constantly running in and out of Elrond's rooms at all hours of the day and night. If anyone ever questioned him, the child would fix his wide eyes on the enquirer and say, "We were talking!"
Elrond was the one Aragorn had always run to, from nightmares and homesickness to childhood fears and guilts. If Aragorn had had to confess a little sin to anyone, it had been his foster father or no one. That was just the way it was! And no amount of teasing ever succeeded in the Lord of Imladris' Little Shadow relinquishing his hold.
Aragorn sat down at a decent distance on the edge of the bed and smiled. It was both a sweet and bitter pain to know Elrond trusted him so completely. From what Glorfindel had told him of Isildur's betrayal, Aragorn was sometimes astonished that Elrond could even look at him, let alone accept him as part of the family. And to abuse that unflinching trust was not something Aragorn took lightly. But he was very clear about his reasons- he meant to get his desire at any cost.
Elrond, however, was not quite as gullible as all that. The mere touch of his hand seemed to put a strange glimmer in Aragorn's darkening eyes. A wash of light red stained the young face and the lower lip dropped slightly. The elf dropped his hand. "Are you lying to me?" he asked quietly.
Aragorn snapped out of his haze and looked panicked. He hadn't lied, truly he hadn't! He'd never said he still didn't want to kiss the elder; he'd only ceded not to talk about it. "No," he swore, "Ada, I never would!"
It was no use. Elrond had seen what he had seen, so he shook his head in regret. "We can talk any time you want, Estel. But I must ask you to never come to my bedchamber again unless you have my permission or there is an emergency. I... we cannot keep going through this conversation again."
"What would you have me say, Elrond? I do love you; I haven't lied to you about that. The way I feel won't go with one evening of your rejection. I expect rejection; I am prepared for it. But I also value your company. Please don't make me turn from you because of what I can't help."
Elrond contented himself with morose thoughts. A bird was singing somewhere outside and if it didn't stop sometime soon, a legendary warrior of the First Age would throw something hard and heavy at it.
"Estel, I don't know why you felt the need to lie to me in such a dishonourable manner, but that is no longer the point. For the last time, ion nin, what you ask cannot be! You really must forget such foolish dreams. I value your company, but I must take care not to let idle tongues gossip scandal about us. I certainly would not enjoy it and you are far too young to be the victim of it. I will not have it said that I betrayed the innocent trust of a child in my care."
"No one will say any such thing," Aragorn vowed, protective anger kindling at such a thought, "Melethron, I will kill anyone who dares accuse you."
"You cannot kill everyone in Middle Earth!"
"I will if I must! And in any case I am not a child or an innocent. I come to you of my own free will and ask to be taken."
A quick mental image and the elf shuddered. "No! You know not the cruelty of the world, Estel. You may be a man in years, but there is still much for you to learn."
The two held each other's gaze, one in sympathy and the sorrow, the other in yearning and frustration. Aragorn finally inclined his head stiffly and left Elrond's room. "I will see you at breakfast, Lord Elrond," was all he said, not waiting for an answer as he shut the door behind him.
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In truth, Aragorn was not at breakfast. Nor was he seen for the following two days. Elladan and Elrohir drove their father to distraction with their incessant worrying and speculation. And Arwen went pale and shied into her own mind. She would not speak, her drawn face speaking eloquently of her own sorrows and miseries.
A cloud seemed to hang heavily over the Last Homely House. A contingent of men come from a neighbouring Kingdom on matters of trade mentioned the same to Erestor. Indeed, one went so far as to ask whether there had been a death in the family. The steward had been strongly tempted to reply- "Not bodily; but one of us dies slowly in spirit."
It was on the morning of the fourth day that the storm clouds finally showed themselves- Estel came back home. Riding through the gates with barely a glance for any in his path, he handed his horse to an elf of the stables and made his way indoors, to the door of Elrond's office. So intent was he on admittance, he failed to notice Glorfindel pass into the adjacent room on his own errand.
"My Lord," the human said formally, bowing with a hand to his heart.
Elrond stood up with an exclamation of relief. "Estel! You are returned! By the Valar, but we have been frantic with worry for you. Another day and Elladan and Elrohir would have followed on your trail, cold as it might have been."
Aragorn let a smile ghost over his haggard face. He was thinner and worn, somehow looking aged even while he was still so young. His shoulders slumped and he walked with the stiff gait of a man who had spent too long in the saddle. But his eyes were clear and focused, shining with the inner determination that characterized him.
"Elrond, I would speak with you," he said without preamble.
The beaming regard turned cold and the elf drew back, his grey eyes narrowing. Unconsciously Elrond pulled his robes closer around him, clasping the front with one slender hand as he beckoned to a chair. Wordlessly the two sat, one staring intently and the other keeping blank counsel... and then Elrond nodded slowly.
"I rode into the wilds alone," Aragorn began, leaning forward and clasping his hands on his knees, "I spent time thinking on everything I had ever believed in. It came to me that this situation must be hard for you, and for Elladan and Elrohir who know of my feelings and your loneliness. They want us both happy, but know better than to hope it will be together. And then there is Arwen..."
"What of Arwen?" Elrond questioned sharply, "You know what ails her? Elbereth's stars, but tell me now! She has not spoken for days and each hour sees her sinking further into desolation."
"She loves," the man pointed out, confident as never before, "She loves the way I love. And the one she loves cannot return her love, as she deserves. But this is indeed a tangled web wrapped around us for Arwen is in love with me, and knows I love you."
"Arwen is..." Elrond almost fell out of his chair in shock. Dark lashes blinked several times. Surely such was not possible? Surely not?
"In love with me, yes. But she is willing to give me to you should you so wish it. She desires my happiness and so she tries to mend my way with you. She understands the bitterness and glory, you see, as even you cannot."
Silence was broken only by the faraway murmur of errands and chores, two youths involved in a game of chase and the soothing flow of the river bubbling monotonously under all. Two beings sat encased in a room and thought of revelations never before uttered out loud.
Elrond wanted to turn away, to cover his ears and refuse to listen. He wanted that pretty mouth to close its foul and shameful tale. A perverse love triangle of the most sordid kind! And his gentle Arwen caught in the middle! For an instant he could dispassionately hate the human who divided his family in such a manner.
"You will hate me and I do not care," Aragorn sighed, "I have hated myself for long ere this conversation and doubtless I will hate myself even more when I am done. But here me out: Arwen is not the only discussion I bring to you."
"Speak then; I am listening," Elrond answered grimly. His fingers itched to box the insolent brat's ears, but there was something strangely compelling and sorrowful in this mature confession. Other confessions came to mind- times when an infant was lifted onto his knee and cried a disjointed litany of wrongs both real and imagined, times when a young boy stammered and stuttered in fear of rejection and disavowal, times when an adolescent whispered of things he could not help and had mistakenly chosen. But none compared to this young man seated before him. And Elrond feared what this was portent of.
"I tried to understand why you did not want me..."
Silence again and this time the river seemed to roar in the stillness as Elrond's fingers clenched and Vilya faintly glowed with the unstoppered emotion.
Aragorn heard it, knew full well what dangers lurked with making this Elf Lord lose his immense control and placed his trust in the kind fairness of the one he loved- "You were either not attracted to me, or you loved someone else, or you fear love and do not want to chance with me."
Elrond spluttered in his chagrin. "You, a mortal stripling, dare to call me coward?"
"No!" It was loud enough to satisfy the incensed Lord of Imladris who nodded warningly and sat back down. "Nay, Elrond, I do not call you coward. Indeed I do not think it. But you have been hurt by many who you loved the best on earth and perhaps you will not risk another such wound?"
"I have never in my life run from love!"
"Is it then that you do not desire me?"
Grey eyes flickered upward to the steady gaze, impaled and laid vulnerable in ways Elrond didn't even want to think about. He tortured himself with thinking that Estel could surely see his acceptance of the young man's beauty, of his approval of the tangled softness of his hair and the salt warmth of his skin, of his appreciation of the hard body that beckoned beneath the dust-stained clothes.
Aragorn smiled a bitter smile; such he had guessed and it hurt that Elrond would not think him worthy enough to act on such desire with. "I thought you did," he remarked, "So if I were to come to you when you were weak and wanting, you would not have the strength to push me away from you as you did that night. Which also leads me to imagine that you are not currently in love with someone else. Before you ask- no, I do not know for certain. But you certainly do not behave as one in love. Even if you were in the position of desiring someone who you could not have, I would still want you; to be whatever you saw in your mind, to enact whatever fantasy lurked in your dreams. I do not fear being a replacement lover."
"Enough, Estel," Elrond howled, slamming to his feet and gripping the human's thin forearms in a vice-like grip, "Never let me hear you do that! Ion nin, you place yourself too low and I will never hear you say so again, am I understood?"
Feeling his heart pound with unaccustomed apprehension, Aragorn nodded quickly. Already his arms were bruised, and his back was sore with self- inflicted lashings that he had chosen to bestow on himself. It was a method of reflection sometimes used by the Rangers; a means of reaching a place of crystal thought through the chaos of pain.
Elrond's impassioned face leaned so close over his, his ageless grace and beauty as terrifyingly perilous as an eagle above prey. Heat poured between them as grey eyes darkened to the colour of a stormy tempest. The sun- dappled world of Imladris narrowed to the dizzying heights of Elrond's breath gusting hot ribbons over his face.
Estel opened his mouth, Elrond held his breath waiting for an impetuous kiss, pleading and begging and deploring for it. "Have you been with a man before?" the human asked.
The spell broke; the world came roaring back in and the elf let go with a groan of self-denial. Grey robes swirled around unsteady legs as Elrond made his way back to the other side of the room. "It is not to be spoken of and has no bearing on anything. Why I cannot give you what you want is simply that my love for you as a son outweighs any desire I might feel. I could accept your tempting offer and then condemn us both to pain and heartbreak."
"A night in your arms- with or without my name on your lips and your heart in my hands- is worth ten lifetimes of pain and heartbreak," Aragorn burst out, his own eyes begging his anguish as his new-found maturity struggled with his youth, "Elrond, for all my life have I wanted to be as Elladan and Elrohir, to be immortal as my family is. But I would gladly renounce an immortal life alone in favour for one night with you. I would not ask you for more than your presence and a chaste kiss. But to know you see me as I am... I would die for that and yes, I would damn myself for that!"
Neither heard a very audible thud that echoed from the room next door. No, both were three feet apart and sharing a mingled sorrow and agony that fed from one heart to another until a tidal wave threatened to sweep them away into darkness.
"Estel," Elrond breathed sadly. He had not known how terrible it was until this moment. "Pen-neth, I pity you; oh, how I pity you. If I had know, I would have... Estel, I would give my life to see you happy."
"Then give me one night!"
"It cannot be, ion nin. What you propose is abhorrent. When I am done with you, what would you have me do- take Elladan or Elrohir; bed with Arwen?" He noted the gaping disgust on his youngest child's face, "Yet you ask me for just that."
"I am no fruit of your loins."
"No, but you came to my arms a babe barely weaned from your mother's breast and I held you and bathed you and spent nights soothing your cries. Were your own father alive he would not have done more. I can only give you what a father gives his child and hope it may be some comfort."
Aragorn's strength seemed to give out.
"What then, my Lord?" he questioned tiredly, "What have you to say that will make me feel you understand my pain?"
"To tell you that I have felt the same pain and that I have lived to bear it," Elrond said bitterly, "Long though it seemed like I couldn't."
Author's Note 2: Thanks in advance for waiting so patiently for me to update, and hope you like it.
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Elrond had, surprisingly enough, slept remarkably deeply following his difficult conversation with Estel. Now, only a short time to first light, he was lying in bed and thinking somewhat optimistically about the entire situation.
True, Estel was a little more sunk in his delusions than he had expected, but Elrond was certain that it could be handled in a mature and diplomatic fashion. After all, had the Elf Lord not put aside his urge to shout and cringe and deny, and dealt with the issue with a little more tact and reason?
The pale fingers of dawn began to creep into his window, trailing delicate patterns on the floor and burnishing the golden wood furniture to a high sheen. Fragrances from the garden wafted gently in with the warming breeze.
The half elf sighed and nodded. Oh yes, today was made to be a new start without fear of worry and trouble.
And yet he did admit to feeling a little melancholy as well. It had been a long time since he'd had a lover and fifty years of abstinence from all sorts of physical pleasures could prove to be tricky. Particularly if Estel intended to repeat his simple but effective seduction of the evening before!
Elrond shivered in remembered appreciation of the warm tongue that had gently slithered against his ear, of the warm lips that had pressed insistently against his own with sweet tenderness and urgent need. He stared down at his hands clenched in the covers of his big but empty bed. Even summer nights could be cold when one slept alone, and the Elf Lord was acutely attuned to his loneliness. Half his unexpected desire to let Estel pleasure him had arisen from the seductive need to wake up beside someone else again.
"Ai, Elbereth, I am getting too old for this," he groaned, burying his head beneath the covers.
"I wouldn't say so," an amused voice remarked.
Elrond shot upright with a gasp, eyes wide in apprehension as Aragorn swung into his bedroom via the window and a convenient tree outside. The youth was dressed simply enough in a loose tunic and leggings, his wiry slimness displayed perfectly with the informal garb. Elrond felt positively indecent sitting half-naked in bed. He keenly felt the breeze on his bare shoulders and chest, having to force his hands not to hike up the thin sheet to cover his unclothed torso.
Aragorn's mischievous eyes twinkled as he shook his head. "Nay, Ada, do not fear my intentions. I will not embarrass you further on that subject." His foster father actually betrayed himself with an audible sigh of relief. "I was out walking,' Aragorn explained, "And I got the sudden urge to climb a tree. So I did."
"Outside my bedroom window?" A dark eyebrow rose in dubious enquiry.
Aragorn laughed quietly at the tentative teasing. "No, my Lord,' he murmured, eyes dancing wickedly as he tried to look demure, "it was another one. But it was near enough that I saw you awake so I came to keep you company. I thought we could talk like we used to."
Suddenly the day brightened again. Estel had admitted his mistake and relinquished his infatuation! Elrond Peredhel could smile happily and hold out a hand to his beloved foster son once more. It had always been a source of great amusement to the household that the child Estel was constantly running in and out of Elrond's rooms at all hours of the day and night. If anyone ever questioned him, the child would fix his wide eyes on the enquirer and say, "We were talking!"
Elrond was the one Aragorn had always run to, from nightmares and homesickness to childhood fears and guilts. If Aragorn had had to confess a little sin to anyone, it had been his foster father or no one. That was just the way it was! And no amount of teasing ever succeeded in the Lord of Imladris' Little Shadow relinquishing his hold.
Aragorn sat down at a decent distance on the edge of the bed and smiled. It was both a sweet and bitter pain to know Elrond trusted him so completely. From what Glorfindel had told him of Isildur's betrayal, Aragorn was sometimes astonished that Elrond could even look at him, let alone accept him as part of the family. And to abuse that unflinching trust was not something Aragorn took lightly. But he was very clear about his reasons- he meant to get his desire at any cost.
Elrond, however, was not quite as gullible as all that. The mere touch of his hand seemed to put a strange glimmer in Aragorn's darkening eyes. A wash of light red stained the young face and the lower lip dropped slightly. The elf dropped his hand. "Are you lying to me?" he asked quietly.
Aragorn snapped out of his haze and looked panicked. He hadn't lied, truly he hadn't! He'd never said he still didn't want to kiss the elder; he'd only ceded not to talk about it. "No," he swore, "Ada, I never would!"
It was no use. Elrond had seen what he had seen, so he shook his head in regret. "We can talk any time you want, Estel. But I must ask you to never come to my bedchamber again unless you have my permission or there is an emergency. I... we cannot keep going through this conversation again."
"What would you have me say, Elrond? I do love you; I haven't lied to you about that. The way I feel won't go with one evening of your rejection. I expect rejection; I am prepared for it. But I also value your company. Please don't make me turn from you because of what I can't help."
Elrond contented himself with morose thoughts. A bird was singing somewhere outside and if it didn't stop sometime soon, a legendary warrior of the First Age would throw something hard and heavy at it.
"Estel, I don't know why you felt the need to lie to me in such a dishonourable manner, but that is no longer the point. For the last time, ion nin, what you ask cannot be! You really must forget such foolish dreams. I value your company, but I must take care not to let idle tongues gossip scandal about us. I certainly would not enjoy it and you are far too young to be the victim of it. I will not have it said that I betrayed the innocent trust of a child in my care."
"No one will say any such thing," Aragorn vowed, protective anger kindling at such a thought, "Melethron, I will kill anyone who dares accuse you."
"You cannot kill everyone in Middle Earth!"
"I will if I must! And in any case I am not a child or an innocent. I come to you of my own free will and ask to be taken."
A quick mental image and the elf shuddered. "No! You know not the cruelty of the world, Estel. You may be a man in years, but there is still much for you to learn."
The two held each other's gaze, one in sympathy and the sorrow, the other in yearning and frustration. Aragorn finally inclined his head stiffly and left Elrond's room. "I will see you at breakfast, Lord Elrond," was all he said, not waiting for an answer as he shut the door behind him.
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In truth, Aragorn was not at breakfast. Nor was he seen for the following two days. Elladan and Elrohir drove their father to distraction with their incessant worrying and speculation. And Arwen went pale and shied into her own mind. She would not speak, her drawn face speaking eloquently of her own sorrows and miseries.
A cloud seemed to hang heavily over the Last Homely House. A contingent of men come from a neighbouring Kingdom on matters of trade mentioned the same to Erestor. Indeed, one went so far as to ask whether there had been a death in the family. The steward had been strongly tempted to reply- "Not bodily; but one of us dies slowly in spirit."
It was on the morning of the fourth day that the storm clouds finally showed themselves- Estel came back home. Riding through the gates with barely a glance for any in his path, he handed his horse to an elf of the stables and made his way indoors, to the door of Elrond's office. So intent was he on admittance, he failed to notice Glorfindel pass into the adjacent room on his own errand.
"My Lord," the human said formally, bowing with a hand to his heart.
Elrond stood up with an exclamation of relief. "Estel! You are returned! By the Valar, but we have been frantic with worry for you. Another day and Elladan and Elrohir would have followed on your trail, cold as it might have been."
Aragorn let a smile ghost over his haggard face. He was thinner and worn, somehow looking aged even while he was still so young. His shoulders slumped and he walked with the stiff gait of a man who had spent too long in the saddle. But his eyes were clear and focused, shining with the inner determination that characterized him.
"Elrond, I would speak with you," he said without preamble.
The beaming regard turned cold and the elf drew back, his grey eyes narrowing. Unconsciously Elrond pulled his robes closer around him, clasping the front with one slender hand as he beckoned to a chair. Wordlessly the two sat, one staring intently and the other keeping blank counsel... and then Elrond nodded slowly.
"I rode into the wilds alone," Aragorn began, leaning forward and clasping his hands on his knees, "I spent time thinking on everything I had ever believed in. It came to me that this situation must be hard for you, and for Elladan and Elrohir who know of my feelings and your loneliness. They want us both happy, but know better than to hope it will be together. And then there is Arwen..."
"What of Arwen?" Elrond questioned sharply, "You know what ails her? Elbereth's stars, but tell me now! She has not spoken for days and each hour sees her sinking further into desolation."
"She loves," the man pointed out, confident as never before, "She loves the way I love. And the one she loves cannot return her love, as she deserves. But this is indeed a tangled web wrapped around us for Arwen is in love with me, and knows I love you."
"Arwen is..." Elrond almost fell out of his chair in shock. Dark lashes blinked several times. Surely such was not possible? Surely not?
"In love with me, yes. But she is willing to give me to you should you so wish it. She desires my happiness and so she tries to mend my way with you. She understands the bitterness and glory, you see, as even you cannot."
Silence was broken only by the faraway murmur of errands and chores, two youths involved in a game of chase and the soothing flow of the river bubbling monotonously under all. Two beings sat encased in a room and thought of revelations never before uttered out loud.
Elrond wanted to turn away, to cover his ears and refuse to listen. He wanted that pretty mouth to close its foul and shameful tale. A perverse love triangle of the most sordid kind! And his gentle Arwen caught in the middle! For an instant he could dispassionately hate the human who divided his family in such a manner.
"You will hate me and I do not care," Aragorn sighed, "I have hated myself for long ere this conversation and doubtless I will hate myself even more when I am done. But here me out: Arwen is not the only discussion I bring to you."
"Speak then; I am listening," Elrond answered grimly. His fingers itched to box the insolent brat's ears, but there was something strangely compelling and sorrowful in this mature confession. Other confessions came to mind- times when an infant was lifted onto his knee and cried a disjointed litany of wrongs both real and imagined, times when a young boy stammered and stuttered in fear of rejection and disavowal, times when an adolescent whispered of things he could not help and had mistakenly chosen. But none compared to this young man seated before him. And Elrond feared what this was portent of.
"I tried to understand why you did not want me..."
Silence again and this time the river seemed to roar in the stillness as Elrond's fingers clenched and Vilya faintly glowed with the unstoppered emotion.
Aragorn heard it, knew full well what dangers lurked with making this Elf Lord lose his immense control and placed his trust in the kind fairness of the one he loved- "You were either not attracted to me, or you loved someone else, or you fear love and do not want to chance with me."
Elrond spluttered in his chagrin. "You, a mortal stripling, dare to call me coward?"
"No!" It was loud enough to satisfy the incensed Lord of Imladris who nodded warningly and sat back down. "Nay, Elrond, I do not call you coward. Indeed I do not think it. But you have been hurt by many who you loved the best on earth and perhaps you will not risk another such wound?"
"I have never in my life run from love!"
"Is it then that you do not desire me?"
Grey eyes flickered upward to the steady gaze, impaled and laid vulnerable in ways Elrond didn't even want to think about. He tortured himself with thinking that Estel could surely see his acceptance of the young man's beauty, of his approval of the tangled softness of his hair and the salt warmth of his skin, of his appreciation of the hard body that beckoned beneath the dust-stained clothes.
Aragorn smiled a bitter smile; such he had guessed and it hurt that Elrond would not think him worthy enough to act on such desire with. "I thought you did," he remarked, "So if I were to come to you when you were weak and wanting, you would not have the strength to push me away from you as you did that night. Which also leads me to imagine that you are not currently in love with someone else. Before you ask- no, I do not know for certain. But you certainly do not behave as one in love. Even if you were in the position of desiring someone who you could not have, I would still want you; to be whatever you saw in your mind, to enact whatever fantasy lurked in your dreams. I do not fear being a replacement lover."
"Enough, Estel," Elrond howled, slamming to his feet and gripping the human's thin forearms in a vice-like grip, "Never let me hear you do that! Ion nin, you place yourself too low and I will never hear you say so again, am I understood?"
Feeling his heart pound with unaccustomed apprehension, Aragorn nodded quickly. Already his arms were bruised, and his back was sore with self- inflicted lashings that he had chosen to bestow on himself. It was a method of reflection sometimes used by the Rangers; a means of reaching a place of crystal thought through the chaos of pain.
Elrond's impassioned face leaned so close over his, his ageless grace and beauty as terrifyingly perilous as an eagle above prey. Heat poured between them as grey eyes darkened to the colour of a stormy tempest. The sun- dappled world of Imladris narrowed to the dizzying heights of Elrond's breath gusting hot ribbons over his face.
Estel opened his mouth, Elrond held his breath waiting for an impetuous kiss, pleading and begging and deploring for it. "Have you been with a man before?" the human asked.
The spell broke; the world came roaring back in and the elf let go with a groan of self-denial. Grey robes swirled around unsteady legs as Elrond made his way back to the other side of the room. "It is not to be spoken of and has no bearing on anything. Why I cannot give you what you want is simply that my love for you as a son outweighs any desire I might feel. I could accept your tempting offer and then condemn us both to pain and heartbreak."
"A night in your arms- with or without my name on your lips and your heart in my hands- is worth ten lifetimes of pain and heartbreak," Aragorn burst out, his own eyes begging his anguish as his new-found maturity struggled with his youth, "Elrond, for all my life have I wanted to be as Elladan and Elrohir, to be immortal as my family is. But I would gladly renounce an immortal life alone in favour for one night with you. I would not ask you for more than your presence and a chaste kiss. But to know you see me as I am... I would die for that and yes, I would damn myself for that!"
Neither heard a very audible thud that echoed from the room next door. No, both were three feet apart and sharing a mingled sorrow and agony that fed from one heart to another until a tidal wave threatened to sweep them away into darkness.
"Estel," Elrond breathed sadly. He had not known how terrible it was until this moment. "Pen-neth, I pity you; oh, how I pity you. If I had know, I would have... Estel, I would give my life to see you happy."
"Then give me one night!"
"It cannot be, ion nin. What you propose is abhorrent. When I am done with you, what would you have me do- take Elladan or Elrohir; bed with Arwen?" He noted the gaping disgust on his youngest child's face, "Yet you ask me for just that."
"I am no fruit of your loins."
"No, but you came to my arms a babe barely weaned from your mother's breast and I held you and bathed you and spent nights soothing your cries. Were your own father alive he would not have done more. I can only give you what a father gives his child and hope it may be some comfort."
Aragorn's strength seemed to give out.
"What then, my Lord?" he questioned tiredly, "What have you to say that will make me feel you understand my pain?"
"To tell you that I have felt the same pain and that I have lived to bear it," Elrond said bitterly, "Long though it seemed like I couldn't."