a/n: I finally have this up. Inspired by the first drafts of Words Fail (which I decided to continue, btw), this supposedly long one-shot turned out into just that, long, but too long for me to have it only in one part. And no, I don't think this would be angst. :P Heed the warnings. Please.

Title: Kindled Flame
Author: Keithan
Disclaimers: Lord of the Rings and its characters belongs to their respective owners.
Rating: PG
Series: 1/7
Warnings: None other than implied love between same gender. mild/implied slash ; legolas/(estel)aragorn; (estel)aragorn/legolas
Summary: Having no tale to tell of its story would not mean that the light from the love of hope and its green leaves did not exist. But of the time when Hope was young, unburdened still of the cares and troubles of the world, only this tale was told.
Notes: Aragorn and Legolas, a sort of backstory. When it was said in the appendices that Elrond receives Aragorn as a foster-son, I take that to mean exactly that.
This takes place in Imladris and all dialogues may be assumed to have been spoken in Elvish.

Kindled Flame
part 1
by Keithan

The world had changed, evolved from countless years and generations that passed. Of these changes, besides from scrolls upon scrolls of history, tales were the main story teller, and songs the most prevalent records of the past.

But of the love of the Elfstone and the Greenleaf, no tale or song, or even scrolls of history, was told or sung. Maybe none would ever be made. But of the time when hope was yet young, unburdened still of the cares and troubles of the world, only this tale was told.

They had not seen it coming, not the Lord of the House nor either of his twin sons, when they welcomed the young prince of Mirkwood to their dwelling. It was merely a visit, half a year at the least and a year at most.

Yet they had not anticipated it, neither the love of their youngest for the Elf Prince, nor the Elf Prince returning such love.

What started out as a visit evolved into something that would eventually aid in the shaping of the history of Middle-earth.

Legolas stood, admiring the fine craftsmanship of his distant kin, the Noldor Elves. He was in Lord Elrond's study, awaiting the half Elf as the lordwas caught in the middle of something and was unable to greet him when he arrived. He gently touched the smooth surface of the table with his thumb caressing the carved edges.

He had not been to Imladris for a long while and when opportunity came for him to visit, he took it gladly.

Faint footsteps were heard and Legolas prepared himself to greet the Elf lord, not noticing that if it was indeed the Elf lord, he would not have heard any footsteps at all.

The door to the study opened and the greeting on the Prince's lips died away when he was confronted with an elf other than the house's lord.

"Ada, I..." Staring at the blond stranger in his father's study, Estel stopped. He had just arrived from a trip with his brothers and he needed to inform Elrond of the news that cut their trip short as his brothers were needed elsewhere. Looking at the Elf, who was clearly not from Imladris, he said politely, "I'm sorry. I didn't know anyone was here."

Legolas corrected himself. Now that he had time to actually observe the new comer, he realized that this was no Elf. This was a young mortal child, one of the Edain, Men. Mildly confused at the child's, an adan's presence, his fluent Elvish, and his reference to somebody as father (certainly not Lord Elrond?), in the Elf lord's study, he smiled hesitantly. "It's quite all right, young one. I'm here waiting for Lord Elrond. You may join me if you wish," he asked.

Scrunching up his nose at being called young, Estel entered the study.

They looked at each other with barely disguised curiosity.

Legolas observed the child with mild curiosity and interest. The child was garbed in traveling clothes, a bit dirty and no doubt had seen better days. He guessed that the mortal had just arrived like him. He estimated him to be no more than five and twenty to eight and twenty years old for an Elf child, roughly estimated, thirteen to fourteen mortal years.

"It was him I was seeking for as well," Estel said, tossing his short hair from his eyes.

The blond Elf had with him his weapons still and Estel had no doubt that the other had just arrived and was waiting for the acknowledgement of Lord Elrond. Curious it was to him, who was used to Elves in Imladris to see another from a different realm. He guessed that he came from Greenwood, or Mirkwood as it was now commonly called. Lórien Elves tend to don on more silvery blue colors than the dark green that their visitor now wore.

"Oh? And what need do you have of him?" Legolas asked kindly with great interest as he continued to observe the child. He had not much interaction with the Edain and to be faced with one so young in Imladris was not something he was expecting.

"My brothers left. I need to let him know I am already here," Estel answered and would have continued on but then he realized he was faced with a complete stranger, one who was still waiting for the acknowledgement of the lord of the house.

He suddenly felt that the responsibility of welcoming the guest would fall to him. His father and his brothers were absent. His young mind then thought that the burden of duty therefore rested on his shoulders. He could do it. He knew he could.

Legolas watched, intrigued, as the human frowned a moment before he straightened his back and held his head higher. The Mirkwood Elf got the feeling that the young adan was trying to act... older . The thought brought a smile to his lips.

"I am Estel," the mortal child then said, laying an open palm over his chest then bowing slightly.

Legolas nearly raised a brow at this in surprise and it heightened his curiosity more. This child was not only fluent in Elvish but he knew the ways and greetings of Elves, besides from the fact of having an Elven name.

"Lord Elrond's foster-son," Estel continued.

The Elf Prince merely blinked at the surprise revelation. The boy was Elrond's foster son and somehow, he felt he should know who he was. But then, that explained his questions regarding the human boy earlier and finally, he smiled understandingly, his confusion now cleared.

Returning the gesture, a palm on his chest, he bowed. "A pleasure, Estel. My name is Legolas and I hail from the kingdom of Greenwood in the east."

And thus it was in that visit that Legolas Thranduilion had first laid eyes upon Estel of Imladris, foster son of Lord Elrond Halfelven and in doing so, had sealed the fate of two that would eventually have pivotal roles in the history of Arda.

Indeed, they had not seen it coming. Not even Estel or Legolas, themselves, had even thought about it, and never had it crossed their minds, not until it was too late.

Too late to step back and avoid it.

The young child of nearly fourteen winters, vulnerable still yet quite mature if he wished to be, was then given a chance to know Legolas of Mirkwood.

Watching from afar, as he had not the opportunity yet to be personally acquainted with him, his curiosity was piqued, his fascination grew and his respect developed each day.

Estel stopped in what he was doing, as he sighted the blond Elf with his father in the garden. They were speaking and it seemed they were talking about Imladris for Legolas nodded and looked admiringly at the beauty of the land.

The Elf was clothed in simple garments underneath the equally simple robe and yet he carried himself with dignity. And this caught Estel's attention. There was something different about the Elf.

"Estel, boy, stop gawking and hand me that bucket of water," Lord Erestor said from behind him, entering the stable doors.

The young boy groaned. "I was not gawking, Lord Erestor. I am merely fascinated with how different the Mirkwood Elf seems," Estel reasoned out as he delivered the wanted bucket. He looked out again to the gardens. "Look at him. Even in the simplest raiment he carries himself so well. Are all wood elves like this?"

"Like what?" Erestor asked, standing beside the boy, looking out as well to where Legolas and Lord Elrond were standing.

The pair was not so far off that Erestor could not hear them. Elrond was smiling as Legolas said something about the peace Imladris always brought him. The conversation then turned to discuss about a human boy that the prince had recently encountered in the Elven dwelling. The chief counselor of Elrond saw his lord smile lovingly as he spoke of his foster-son.

"Like.. like.." Estel said, however he was unable to find the words.

"Like royalty?" Erestor asked, hazarding a guess.

"Yes! Precisely! Like royalty! He's very different from the twins." Young Estel seemed excited that he finally found the most fitting adjective for the noble Mirkwood Elf.

Erestor laughed. "That's precisely because he is," he said, laughing more when Estel looked at him, mouth slightly open. "He's Prince Legolas of Greenwood, Estel. Son of Thranduil, King of Greenwood the Great, or Mirkwood as it has been called lately."

Estel blinked once and then he blinked twice. He looked back at Legolas and his father who were now walking away from them.

"One would think that with the history lessons you're being given and all the story telling, you'd know by now some familiar names," the Elf said, laughing, almost to himself as he walked back to see to his horse.

But Estel wasn't listening to him. He was now more intrigued and awed than ever.

Even at his young age, with the innocence of youth still and the blessed ignorance of his true heritage, Estel was drawn to the royalty and dignity that the young Prince of Mirkwood exuded. For in him ran also a blood that was no less royal. If it was his blood recognizing its own royal lineage that made him acutely aware of the Elf's distinct nobility and royalty, he could not have known.

The wheels of fate had already started turning the moment they had first met in Lord Elrond's study and not even knowing what would happen could stop it.

t b c . . .
beta'd by: Dara

Author's Notes:

Since ff.n doesn't allow char. like asterisks etc. to show, I used . . . to separate sections. To my previous readers, oh, do bear with me. :) I know this is different from what I usually come up with. Well, I'm young still, so it would be nice to explore the realm of writing and find my style. And, this is a first, I have a beta for this fic. Thank you, Dara! I'll be posting more or less regularly, but with no definite schedule.

Feedbacks would be great! I need to know how I am doing in this.