Legolas rode into Rivendell and gracefully dismounted his horse. He looked around, allowing the memories of his last visit to come flowing back. Only 77 years had passed and everything looked the same, and yet everything had changed. Gone were the carefree days of pulling pranks with the twins. The little boy who followed him wherever he went had grown up into the man he loved. And now, Legolas came here not for fun and relaxation, but to deliver a solemn and urgent message.
His eyes finally rested on Elrohir and Elladan. They were standing several feet away from him, formally greeting a group of men from Gondor, but the look of their clothing. Legolas caught Elrohir's eye, who grinned and nudged his twin brother. Once Elladan saw who arrived, they hastily excused themselves to the men's leader, a sandy-haired Gondorian, and made their way over to their friend.
Not bothering with the formalities, the three embraced. "Legolas, thank the Valar you are here," declared Elrohir.
A chill went through Legolas' body. "What's wrong?" he asked, alarmed. "Has something happened to Aragorn?"
"Everything happened to Estel!" cried Elladan. "Mithrandir didn't meet him in Bree like they planned, so he had to lead four hobbits through the wild himself. They were attacked on Weathertop by Nazgul! Hobbits can't do battle with those things, so he had to fight them off all alone. On top of everything else, the hobbit with the ring -"
"Elladan, calm yourself," said Elrohir in a hissing whisper. "You're blurting things that shouldn't be blurted."
Elladan took a deep breath. "The hobbit was stabbed by a Morgul blade and they had to get here as fast as they could," he continued. "The Nine were on their trail the whole way. By the time Glorfindel finally caught up with them, Nazgul were about to close in."
"Is he hurt?" demanded Legolas.
"No," Elrohir assured him. "They all arrived a few days ago, more or less all right. Even the hurt hobbit, Frodo Baggins, recovered. Or, at least, is recovering nicely."
"Don't scare me like that!" breathed Legolas, immensely relieved. "From the way Elladan was carrying on, I was afraid that Aragorn was near death."
"He could have been," Elladan piped in darkly. "I can't believe this is happening. One minute ago he was an irritating little boy who tortured us with toilet training and never left you alone. Now he's fighting Nazgul. Why was I always so annoyed with him when he was a child? I would do anything, give anything, and promise anything if he could just be like that again."
"I know, dear brother," said Elrohir, putting his arm around his twin. "I know."
"Where is he?" asked Legolas, desperate to see Aragorn with his own eyes.
"He's in the house," responded Elrohir. "In that room where Ada keeps all the things pertaining to the Last Alliance."
"Are you two really in love?" questioned Elladan. When Legolas nodded affirmatively, the dark-haired elf let out a weak laugh. "All this time, everyone's been trying to impress you with beautiful verses and flowery declarations. I'd like to see the looks on their faces when they find out all you wanted was a socially-awkward mortal with hair all over his face."
#######################
Legolas found Aragorn right where Elrohir said he'd be, stretched out on a bench with a book. "What are you reading?" he asked.
Aragorn looked up, surprised. "Are you really here?" he gasped, pushing the book out of the way.
Legolas grinned and sat next to him. "Well, perhaps you should touch me," he suggested teasingly. "Just to make sure I'm real."
"That may take a lot of touching," warned Aragorn with mock-seriousness. He brushed the back of his hand against the elf's cheek. "Are you prepared to handle that kind of scrutiny?"
"Oh, yes -"
"Excuse me," a voice interrupted. Both turned to see the sandy-haired Gondorian standing by one of the murals. "I was just looking at everything that the Lord Elrond has collected over the years. I didn't mean to intrude." His eyes widened as he got a good look at them, and then narrowed. "You are no elf," he said to Aragorn, before turning to Legolas. "And you look like no elf of Rivendell."
"All visitors are welcome here, not just the Men of the South," Aragorn informed him. "We are friends of Gandalf the Grey."
The man looked a little defensive. "They we are here on common purpose, friends." His gaze turned to a statue that was holding a tray. On the tray were the broken pieces of a sword. "Are those the shards of Narsil?"
"They are," replied Legolas.
The man walked over and grasped the hilt. A look of wonder passed over his face. "This is the very blade that cut the ring from the enemy's hand," he whispered in awe. Suddenly remembering he wasn't alone, he glanced back at Legolas and Aragorn, who were still watching him. His expression turned blasé. "It is nothing but a broken heirloom of a forgotten time," he said gruffly, quickly putting the hilt back. It fell to the floor with a clang. The man hesitated for a moment, and then walked away.
"What a rude, proud man," commented Legolas. Aragorn didn't respond; instead he got up and picked up the hilt. He held it in his hand, staring at it for a moment before carefully placing it with the other pieces. "Aragorn, what's troubling you?"
"Isildur used that sword to cut the ring from Sauron's hand," said Aragorn. "And then he took the ring for his own."
Passages from letters came to memory and understanding dawned on Legolas. "And now the ring has returned," he supplied. Aragorn didn't say anything, but the air around them was heavy with guilt and doubt. "You are not Isildur."
Aragorn sat again, looking at him with anxious eyes. "I am of his house and his line," he murmured. "His blood runs through my veins. Why wouldn't his weakness be in me as well?"
"You are not Isildur," Legolas insisted. "Don't confuse blood with destiny." He smiled a little. "Anyone with enough courage to face to my father has a great reserve of strength in him. That strength will help you face the same temptation and defeat it."
The ranger reached out and fingered the chain around Legolas' neck before pulling it to reveal the silver ring. "I feel so old, so burdened," he said. "I wish I were still the young man who gave this to you."
"You are older, perhaps," replied Legolas. "You have more cares and more worries now. But you're still the person I love."
Aragorn leaned forward, closing the space between their lips. They kissed for a long while, forgetting for the moment all the troubles of the world.
#################
The next evening, Legolas sat on a bench in the small courtyard where Elrond held a council earlier that day. He sighed, contemplating all that had happened. Of all being and peoples, a hobbit was going to try to bear the one ring into the heart of Sauron's realm. 'A tall order,' he mused, 'even if your last name is Baggins.' Not only that, he himself would be going along to help in whatever way he could. The fellowship would be made up of Frodo, himself, Aragorn, three more hobbits, a dwarf that was ignorant that he actually thought the one ring could be destroyed with an axe, and the sandy-haired Gondorian, Boromir, who apparently thought his people mightiest and most worthy and himself wiser than a wizard or elf lord. He groaned; how could this journey be anything but a disaster?
A hand came down on his shoulder. "What is on your mind, meleth?" asked Aragorn.
"I was just wondering how we'll get to Mordor without killing each other," replied Legolas. "Especially since we can't get through one meeting without ended up in a yelling match."
"We just need to remember what's important," said Aragorn. "And learn when to bite our tongues."
Legolas flushed. "I'm sorry about blurting all of that to Boromir," he said. "I just couldn't stand his smugness for a moment longer. Does he really think Gondor is the only realm that's been fighting the forces of Mordor, that only his people have suffered and died? What makes him think that he's more capable of deciding the ring's fate than Mithrandir or Lord Elrond?"
"I understand how you feel," soothed Aragorn. "Gimli son of Gloin almost got my sword shoved through his skull at one point. 'Never trust an elf,' indeed! Let's hope that the rest of him is as bold as his speech."
"How are we going to get through this?" lamented Legolas, only half-joking.
"By believing that Sauron will be destroyed," murmured Aragorn in response, planting a kiss on the elf's neck. Legolas' eyes fluttered shut and he leaned towards him. "Then Gondor can be renewed, and your father will have to escort you to me himself so we can get married. Once the ring is destroyed, most of the obstacles will be gone and we can be together."
Legolas tilted his head back to kiss the underside of Aragorn's chin. "I wish we could be together now," he sighed.
"Me too," said Aragorn. "But I want to prove to your father that I love you, and don't just want to bed the Sun Star for sport."
"I can wait for such a noble reason," smiled Legolas. They remained there for a long time, hold each other in the starlight. "I will wait for you forever if need be."
To Be Continued...
His eyes finally rested on Elrohir and Elladan. They were standing several feet away from him, formally greeting a group of men from Gondor, but the look of their clothing. Legolas caught Elrohir's eye, who grinned and nudged his twin brother. Once Elladan saw who arrived, they hastily excused themselves to the men's leader, a sandy-haired Gondorian, and made their way over to their friend.
Not bothering with the formalities, the three embraced. "Legolas, thank the Valar you are here," declared Elrohir.
A chill went through Legolas' body. "What's wrong?" he asked, alarmed. "Has something happened to Aragorn?"
"Everything happened to Estel!" cried Elladan. "Mithrandir didn't meet him in Bree like they planned, so he had to lead four hobbits through the wild himself. They were attacked on Weathertop by Nazgul! Hobbits can't do battle with those things, so he had to fight them off all alone. On top of everything else, the hobbit with the ring -"
"Elladan, calm yourself," said Elrohir in a hissing whisper. "You're blurting things that shouldn't be blurted."
Elladan took a deep breath. "The hobbit was stabbed by a Morgul blade and they had to get here as fast as they could," he continued. "The Nine were on their trail the whole way. By the time Glorfindel finally caught up with them, Nazgul were about to close in."
"Is he hurt?" demanded Legolas.
"No," Elrohir assured him. "They all arrived a few days ago, more or less all right. Even the hurt hobbit, Frodo Baggins, recovered. Or, at least, is recovering nicely."
"Don't scare me like that!" breathed Legolas, immensely relieved. "From the way Elladan was carrying on, I was afraid that Aragorn was near death."
"He could have been," Elladan piped in darkly. "I can't believe this is happening. One minute ago he was an irritating little boy who tortured us with toilet training and never left you alone. Now he's fighting Nazgul. Why was I always so annoyed with him when he was a child? I would do anything, give anything, and promise anything if he could just be like that again."
"I know, dear brother," said Elrohir, putting his arm around his twin. "I know."
"Where is he?" asked Legolas, desperate to see Aragorn with his own eyes.
"He's in the house," responded Elrohir. "In that room where Ada keeps all the things pertaining to the Last Alliance."
"Are you two really in love?" questioned Elladan. When Legolas nodded affirmatively, the dark-haired elf let out a weak laugh. "All this time, everyone's been trying to impress you with beautiful verses and flowery declarations. I'd like to see the looks on their faces when they find out all you wanted was a socially-awkward mortal with hair all over his face."
#######################
Legolas found Aragorn right where Elrohir said he'd be, stretched out on a bench with a book. "What are you reading?" he asked.
Aragorn looked up, surprised. "Are you really here?" he gasped, pushing the book out of the way.
Legolas grinned and sat next to him. "Well, perhaps you should touch me," he suggested teasingly. "Just to make sure I'm real."
"That may take a lot of touching," warned Aragorn with mock-seriousness. He brushed the back of his hand against the elf's cheek. "Are you prepared to handle that kind of scrutiny?"
"Oh, yes -"
"Excuse me," a voice interrupted. Both turned to see the sandy-haired Gondorian standing by one of the murals. "I was just looking at everything that the Lord Elrond has collected over the years. I didn't mean to intrude." His eyes widened as he got a good look at them, and then narrowed. "You are no elf," he said to Aragorn, before turning to Legolas. "And you look like no elf of Rivendell."
"All visitors are welcome here, not just the Men of the South," Aragorn informed him. "We are friends of Gandalf the Grey."
The man looked a little defensive. "They we are here on common purpose, friends." His gaze turned to a statue that was holding a tray. On the tray were the broken pieces of a sword. "Are those the shards of Narsil?"
"They are," replied Legolas.
The man walked over and grasped the hilt. A look of wonder passed over his face. "This is the very blade that cut the ring from the enemy's hand," he whispered in awe. Suddenly remembering he wasn't alone, he glanced back at Legolas and Aragorn, who were still watching him. His expression turned blasé. "It is nothing but a broken heirloom of a forgotten time," he said gruffly, quickly putting the hilt back. It fell to the floor with a clang. The man hesitated for a moment, and then walked away.
"What a rude, proud man," commented Legolas. Aragorn didn't respond; instead he got up and picked up the hilt. He held it in his hand, staring at it for a moment before carefully placing it with the other pieces. "Aragorn, what's troubling you?"
"Isildur used that sword to cut the ring from Sauron's hand," said Aragorn. "And then he took the ring for his own."
Passages from letters came to memory and understanding dawned on Legolas. "And now the ring has returned," he supplied. Aragorn didn't say anything, but the air around them was heavy with guilt and doubt. "You are not Isildur."
Aragorn sat again, looking at him with anxious eyes. "I am of his house and his line," he murmured. "His blood runs through my veins. Why wouldn't his weakness be in me as well?"
"You are not Isildur," Legolas insisted. "Don't confuse blood with destiny." He smiled a little. "Anyone with enough courage to face to my father has a great reserve of strength in him. That strength will help you face the same temptation and defeat it."
The ranger reached out and fingered the chain around Legolas' neck before pulling it to reveal the silver ring. "I feel so old, so burdened," he said. "I wish I were still the young man who gave this to you."
"You are older, perhaps," replied Legolas. "You have more cares and more worries now. But you're still the person I love."
Aragorn leaned forward, closing the space between their lips. They kissed for a long while, forgetting for the moment all the troubles of the world.
#################
The next evening, Legolas sat on a bench in the small courtyard where Elrond held a council earlier that day. He sighed, contemplating all that had happened. Of all being and peoples, a hobbit was going to try to bear the one ring into the heart of Sauron's realm. 'A tall order,' he mused, 'even if your last name is Baggins.' Not only that, he himself would be going along to help in whatever way he could. The fellowship would be made up of Frodo, himself, Aragorn, three more hobbits, a dwarf that was ignorant that he actually thought the one ring could be destroyed with an axe, and the sandy-haired Gondorian, Boromir, who apparently thought his people mightiest and most worthy and himself wiser than a wizard or elf lord. He groaned; how could this journey be anything but a disaster?
A hand came down on his shoulder. "What is on your mind, meleth?" asked Aragorn.
"I was just wondering how we'll get to Mordor without killing each other," replied Legolas. "Especially since we can't get through one meeting without ended up in a yelling match."
"We just need to remember what's important," said Aragorn. "And learn when to bite our tongues."
Legolas flushed. "I'm sorry about blurting all of that to Boromir," he said. "I just couldn't stand his smugness for a moment longer. Does he really think Gondor is the only realm that's been fighting the forces of Mordor, that only his people have suffered and died? What makes him think that he's more capable of deciding the ring's fate than Mithrandir or Lord Elrond?"
"I understand how you feel," soothed Aragorn. "Gimli son of Gloin almost got my sword shoved through his skull at one point. 'Never trust an elf,' indeed! Let's hope that the rest of him is as bold as his speech."
"How are we going to get through this?" lamented Legolas, only half-joking.
"By believing that Sauron will be destroyed," murmured Aragorn in response, planting a kiss on the elf's neck. Legolas' eyes fluttered shut and he leaned towards him. "Then Gondor can be renewed, and your father will have to escort you to me himself so we can get married. Once the ring is destroyed, most of the obstacles will be gone and we can be together."
Legolas tilted his head back to kiss the underside of Aragorn's chin. "I wish we could be together now," he sighed.
"Me too," said Aragorn. "But I want to prove to your father that I love you, and don't just want to bed the Sun Star for sport."
"I can wait for such a noble reason," smiled Legolas. They remained there for a long time, hold each other in the starlight. "I will wait for you forever if need be."
To Be Continued...
