Aragorn bent over to examine the pipe he'd been smoking. 'If for nothing else,' he decided wryly, 'hobbits should be praised for discovering the use of pipeweed.' Just being able to sit back and enjoy his pipe had helped him relax a little while the world around him seemed filled with uncertainty. Like whether or not Mithrandir could convince Denethor to light the beacons and if Theoden would answer if he did. And the future of Gondor and all of Middle Earth, if it even did have a future. Whether Frodo and Sam were still alive and free. And, foremost on his mind, what was wrong with Legolas.

He sighed. Legolas had been acting strange ever since the battle at Helm's Deep. Gimli must have noticed it too; Aragorn was sure that's why he wanted to talk to the elf alone. He was distant, but not in a way that would indicate that he wanted to end their relationship. Rather, he seemed troubled by something and was worried about what the man's reaction would be to it. It bothered Aragorn that Legolas was so hesitant to confide in him. 'What could be so terrible that he's afraid to tell me about it?' he wondered.

A sudden flame erupting on the mountain's peak drew Aragorn out of his musings and worries. The beacons were lit. Mithrandir had succeeded! The wait was finally over and the time for action had begun. He spun around and dashed to Meduseld, taking three stairs at a time to the doorway. "The beacons of Minas Tirith are lit!" he cried as he entered the throne room.

All activity ceased as everyone stared. Aragorn skidded to a stop in front of the king. "The beacons are lit," he reiterated, gasping for breath. "Gondor calls for aid."

Theoden looked as if he were at a loss for words. He glanced at Eowyn's apprehensive but hopeful face to Aragorn's tense-with-anticipation expression before his eyes fell on Legolas. The elf wore the same expression that Thranduil had when the next words out of his mouth were: "I expect you to do what you must do, Little Greenleaf." Knowing what the right thing to do was, Theoden steeled his resolve. "And Rohan will answer," he declared. He turned to Eomer. "Muster the Rohirrim."

The Men of Rohan left the room in a frenzy of activity. The sounds of shouting and bells ringing could be heard clearly from outside. Aragorn turned to his lover. Legolas smiled eagerly at him and for the first time in days he felt hopeful again.

Eowyn watched the look that the lovers exchanged and felt her heart break a little. "I should let Merry know what's going on," she said quickly as she exited the room. She respected both Legolas and his relationship with Aragorn, but that didn't make it any easier to watch them together.

Legolas watched her go. "Poor Eowyn," he said, sympathy evident in his voice. "She's had such a difficult time as of late. I'm glad she can find some comfort in mentoring our young hobbit out there."

"How's his riding coming along?" asked Aragorn, remembering again how Legolas and Gimli had slipped off to talk.

"He looks to be a proper esquire of Rohan," replied Legolas proudly.

"Is that all you and Gimli did this morning?" asked Aragorn.

Legolas let out a nervous laugh. "Aragorn!" he scolded teasingly. "Are you jealous?"

Aragorn ignored Gimli's snort of disapproval. "No, it's not that," he said, slightly taken aback. "I was just wondering if you did anything but go down to the stables."

"What else would we have been doing?" asked Legolas, sounding a little too innocent. He was starting to get rattled by Aragorn's questioning. Gimli wouldn't have said anything to him about his mortality, so why was he so suspicious?

"I know you Legolas," replied Aragorn firmly. "Something weighs heavily on your mind. Gimli's noticed to and that's why he made up that story about Arod; he wanted to talk to you alone."

"Aragorn-"

"Please," interrupted Aragorn. "There is nothing in this world that you can't tell me."

Legolas was decidedly uncomfortable and torn. He glanced at Gimli, who - though he didn't know it - wore the same expression that the elf had been giving to Theoden. "I will tell you," he finally promised Aragorn with a heavy sigh. "Just not yet. You need to concentrate on the muster."

Aragorn looked ready to protest but was silenced by Legolas' gentle kiss on the lips. "Please trust me," the elf begged. "I'll tell you everything at the encampment."

"I do trust you," vowed Aragorn. Stealing another kiss from Legolas, he too left the room to see how he could assist the king and Eomer.

Gimli watched in silence as Legolas sat down on the floor. "Are you feeling all right, laddie."

"I'm fine," Legolas told him. "I'm just feeling a little drained."

"You are going to tell him, right?"

"I promised I would," murmured Legolas. "And I will at the right time."

Gimli draped an arm around Legolas' shoulders. "There isn't a 'right time' for this conversation, laddie," he said sagely. "He deserves to know the truth and I expect you to tell him at the encampment no matter what else is going on."

Legolas leaned into the dwarf, grateful for the comfort. "You know," he said, "if you just add 'Little Greenleaf' to the end of that sentence, you'll sound exactly like my father."

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Aragorn's anxiousness was not lessened at the encampment a few days later. He heard the reports of numbers that came in from the different regions while he rode through the muster with Theoden. Always those numbers were much less than hoped for. Always, he noted, the troops that did come were full of fear and doubt.

Theoden did not ease his disquiet. Examining the encampment, the king said, "6,000 in all. Less than half of what I'd hoped for."

"6,000 will not be enough to break the lines of Mordor," Aragorn informed him grimly.

"More will come," assured Theoden, sounding almost cheerful.

"And how long would we have to wait for them to come?" asked Aragorn incredulously. "Every hour lost hastens Gondor's defeat. We have until dawn and then we have to depart, whether or not more have come."

Theoden looked sufficiently chastised, but the cries of horses drew his attention away from Aragorn. All around the camp, especially near a mountain path, horses reared and refused to be led. Aragorn walked closer to the dark road, inexplicably drawn in by the mountain's pull.

Legolas and Gimli hurried out from their tents to see what the commotion was about. Legolas shuddered at the fear that hung in the air. "The horses are restless and the Men are quiet," he observed.

"They grow nervous in the shadow of the mountain," Eomer told him.

Even Gimli, dwarf of the Lonely Mountain, looked spooked. "That road there," he said slowly, as if he feared the answer. "Where does that go?"

Legolas looked down the dark and uninviting path. "That is the road to the Dimolt," he said quietly. "To the pass under the mountains."

"None that go that way ever return," said Eomer. The three hunters marveled at the genuine fear in his voice and face. "That mountain is evil."

Aragorn stepped forward and peered down the road. He gasped as the frigid wind hit his face. It was like something was calling to him; he could almost see...

"Aragorn!" Legolas' voice broke the spell of the mountain. "What is it?"

"Oh, no," said Aragorn. "You promised to tell me what's been troubling you at the encampment. Well, we're here and now that's what we're going to do."

"Very well," Legolas conceded reluctantly. He looked around at the soldiers that seemed to be swarming everywhere. "Not here, though. We need to go somewhere private."

"We'll talk in my tent," offered Aragorn. He took his lover's hand and gently led him to the tent that had been set up for his use. Once inside, he pulled the flap shut, making sure once more that no one was standing close enough to listen.

Legolas stood with his arms crossed over his chest, trying to collect his nerve. "Perhaps you should sit down," he suggested.

Aragorn obediently sat on the edge of his cot. Legolas kneeled in front of him and looked him in the eyes. The man's uneasiness grew to spectacular proportions at the mixture of emotion that he saw there. "Please tell me what's wrong," he begged.

Legolas took one of Aragorn's hands in his and kissed the palm. "I love you," he breathed.

"I love you too," Aragorn murmured back as he caressed the elf's face with his free hand. The unease was turning into genuine fright very quickly.

"Something happened at Helm's Deep," continued Legolas nervously. "Something I can't quite find an explanation for except that I love you so much."

"What?" cried Aragorn with concerned frustration.

Legolas took a deep shuddering breath. "I'm mortal, Aragorn," he said, studying the man's face. He looked utterly stunned. "I have bound myself to you without even knowing it. But I'm not unhappy about this, not if it means that I can be with you in this life and whatever exists beyond death."

"But, but we aren't married," sputtered Aragorn. "We've never joined intimately. How did this happen?"

Legolas stared at their enjoined hands for a moment. "It was the acceptance of love with grief, I suppose," he finally answered, again looking up into Aragorn's face. "It was there that I realized that mortals love with the knowledge that their relationships must end in sadness, at least in this world. I now know that our love will be bitter as well as sweet."

Aragorn drew him into a fierce embrace, clutching him for dear life. "I will give you everything," he vowed tearfully. "Love, life, happiness, safety, everything. We'll live in a Gondor that rivals the golden days of Numenor, with beautiful gardens and anything else that pleases you. I'm going to tell Theoden that we have to depart now. Maybe we can stop the enemy's forces before -"

A firm kiss on his lips quieted Aragorn. "Stick to your plan," Legolas urged. "Don't alter it unless you hear for new knowledge about the attack."

"If Gondor is under siege -"

"If it is under siege," said Legolas, "than taking off now when no one is prepared won't do them any good. My mortality doesn't change anything about the enemy's plans. Trust your instincts like I do and let the Rohirrim get ready."

"I never wanted you to die," Aragorn whispered, the guilt evident in his voice.

"Death would have come to me even if I were still immortal," said Legolas gently. "If I had gone to Valinor and left you, I would have suffered a living death for all eternity."

Their lips met for another deep kiss. Alone in the tent, they reveled in their privacy and enjoyed their closeness after the days of secrets and uncertainties. As the night grew around them, Aragorn and Legolas made hopeful, desperate wishes for the future.

To be continued...

A/N: First of all, thanks so much to all my reviewers! This story's been reviewed over 200 times and that just blows my mind.

There's been some question about what this mortality means for Legolas physically. He's still an elf, with the elven speed, healing abilities, agility, and everything else except the immortality. A robin is still a bird even if it can't fly and Legolas is still an elf even if he will eventually die (which he won't be doing in this particular story).

Finally, I'm happy to announce that I'm done with the writing part of this story. Please continue reviewing, though, since I still have to edit and type. On my previous Troy fic I did extensive revisions after completion and totally rewrote one chapter because my reviewers made me realize what direction my story needed to go in. Those reviews really do help. Now I'm going to continue working on my long-overdue prequel to that Troy story (stupid writer's block!) and anything else that pops into my head. Barring any additions or subtractions, "What Is Meant To Be" will have 36 total chapters.