Ok. I'm bad, I admit it. You all have permission to hurt me if you wish.
But please, spare my fingers, I can't type if you hurt the fingers. I know
it has been FOREVER since I posted this story, and I am sorry, but to be
totally honest, I never thought anyone would read it.. But you did. I thus
I have fought and battled with a second chapter, and finally I am happy
with it. I really hope you all like it as well. I couldn't believe that you
ALL wanted a happy ending! Specially when the only ending I had planned
was anything but.. but fear not... I now have six chapters either planned
or half written and I THINK I may finally know what I am doing.
I honestly never intended to carry this fic on, but well, 18 reviews is too many to ignore, and thus I would like to thank you all for your reviews...
I would normally write you each a little thank you note, but I am unable to do so now, as it is late and I am very tired, yet determined to post.
I hope you enjoy.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Aragorn was restless. Beside him, between the satin sheets, his wife and queen of three weeks slept. For him however, sleep would not come.
With a sigh he roused himself from the bed, pulled on a robe and walked over to the window.
The moon was bright and beautiful.
(His hair always looked lovely in the moonlight, and he always seemed to glow..)
He shook his head; trying to clear the clouds of pain and sadness that memory had caused to well up in him.
He turned from the window and let his eyes rest on his wife.
True, it was as everyone said, she was beautiful, you would have to have been insane not to see it. Her face was alive even as she slept, and her hair was as dark and glowing as the finest mahogany, and he knew that he cared for her greatly. Yet, in his heart of hearts he knew he could never do her justice.
With a light growl he strode to the door, opened it and left.
He could never love her as unconditionally as she loved him. For whether he meant to or not he was always comparing her to someone else.
Noting the differences in the way they walked, talked, laughed and smiled.
Comparing her elegant dark hair and eyes to his lighter and more sunny ones.
Comparing the desperation with which she clung to and kissed him, filled still with the worry he would leave her, to the tender softness that had been the nights he had spent on his quest with his blonde haired lover.
Comparing her open declarations of love to the quiet, almost coy endearments that had come from the other.
Comparing the prince of Mirkwood to his wife. And each time it was not his wife who came out on top.
He came to a stop out in the grounds, by a large pond of crystal clear water.
He sighed. He had loved her once, he was sure of it, and that's why he had taken her as his Queen. He had thought his feelings for Legolas had been nothing more or less than the desire for care and comfort in troubled times, superficial so to speak, convenient.
But now he knew better.
He could remember every detail of the perfect face. The gracefully arched eyebrows, the eyes, large and liquid, they seemed to shift colour with the princes moods. The delicate nose that at one point he had loved to kiss, just so he could watch the way it wrinkled, the lips, he could remember them in the most detail. A rosy pink, not to large, but not thin either, perfect. Soft as velvet, smooth as silk, with thin lines running down them as water does a fall.
All these were memories that Aragorn would hold with him for ever. But sometimes memories were futile reminders of a future that could never have been.
Aragorn shook his head and ran a hand through his hair.
It could never have been. He knew that. He couldn't have brought the lovely elf to Gondor with him, it had been hard enough to convince the people to accept Arwen, imagine how hard it would have been to accept a male elf, that aside, his linage must continue.
Aragorn himself didn't care if he never had children. If he could have stayed with the blonde elf he wouldn't have cared one bit. But the fact that he was a King threw a whole new perspective on the matter. The throne must have an heir, no matter what the King himself felt. Even if the King had never asked to be King.
He looked around him.
A castle, gardens, flowers, trees and Walls..
He hated the walls. He was used to the life of a Ranger, going where he pleased when he pleased, now he may have well been on a leash or chained to a pillar, he couldn't go anywhere without an armed escort, and it did NOT agree with him.
With a sigh, his mind for what seemed like the hundredth time ran over the memory that caused the occasional pangs in his heart to become a flooded river of guilt, pain, and sadness.
*~#=#=~*Flashback*~=#=#~*
"I do." Aragorn intoned solemnly. At last the final speech of the service was completed and Aragorn place a chaste kiss on the lips of his new wife.
As they walked back down between the rows of guests, her arm through his, he had allowed his eyes to ghost over the congregation.
Dwarves, men, elves, hobbits, all had gathered to see the occasion, there were reputedly a small collection of Ents waiting on the edge of a nearby forest as well..
His eyes fell on a head of blonde hair that out shone all others by far.
(Legolas.) His mind supplied.
He let his eyes ghost down to that much beloved face, expecting to maybe see a little regret, but at least some of the strength he had shown during the quest of the ring, and the understanding that what he was doing was necessary. But what he saw stilled his breathing and almost stilled his heart.
The beautiful eyes were clouded with pain, and there was, within them, the most unbearable essence of betrayal, another look showed tears running in small rivers down the ivory cheeks.
As he and his new bride walked past the row the elf sat in, Aragorn saw Legolas lift a hand and place it over his heart and bow his head as his shoulders began to shake.
There were tears in many an eye, but none of them held the profound pain that was in the tears of the blonde prince.
Aragorn realised, now that it was too late to change anything, that it had been his unthinking actions that had put that pain there. He hadn't explained a thing to the elf, it would have seemed to the world as if he had been using him.. and that must have been how Legolas felt as well. Aragorn scowled, Why hadn't he taken the time to explain the situation.. Because he had been a coward, that was why.. Because he had feared that had he looked into those eyes but once more he would never have been able to stop.
~*~
He had not seen Legolas for very long after the ceremony. The Prince had presented himself to the 'Happy Couple' once, and had, with a smile Aragorn could see through in the blink of an eye, told them that they were perfect for each other, and after embracing Arwen, had informed her that she looked radiant.
He had then been seen talking with another group, elves mainly but also a couple of Hobbits, and once sitting on his own under a tree, eyes once again a mask of pain. When Aragorn had approached him the pain had intensified and Legolas had, in a flash of blonde hair, vanished into the darkening night.
*~#=#=~*End Flashback*~=#=#~*
That had been the last time Aragorn had seen the elf as he had never returned to the party. Aragorn presumed that he had returned home, and would now be, as all his kind were, making his way to the Undying lands.
Aragorn had however met with a couple of his other companions from the Quest, well, the hobbits and Gimli anyway, but all of them had behaved strangely towards him, coldly almost, at the time he had thought they were just uncomfortable with him because of his new position. Now he realised, they must have seen what he had done to Legolas, who had been a friend to them as well.
The hobbits had been almost silent; answering in one or two words if at all and Gimli had roughly congratulated him and then ignored him for the rest of the celebration.
How he wished he could change the past.
But it was too late for wishes. Legolas had left Middle earth forever. Aragorn wished that he could have had the chance to say goodbye.
He also wished, more profoundly tonight that ever before that he had had the chance to explain his actions, Legolas hadn't deserved to be simply thrown aside, he had deserved more.. So much more.. More than Aragorn could ever have hoped to give him.
With a final longing look at the moon which reminded him so much of the love he had been forced, by his devotion to duty to ignore, the love that still live on in his heart, he walked back into the castle that had become his prison.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Well, I really hope that that was worth waiting for.. I will, I hope, see you in chapter three, which is all ready and written.
I honestly never intended to carry this fic on, but well, 18 reviews is too many to ignore, and thus I would like to thank you all for your reviews...
I would normally write you each a little thank you note, but I am unable to do so now, as it is late and I am very tired, yet determined to post.
I hope you enjoy.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Aragorn was restless. Beside him, between the satin sheets, his wife and queen of three weeks slept. For him however, sleep would not come.
With a sigh he roused himself from the bed, pulled on a robe and walked over to the window.
The moon was bright and beautiful.
(His hair always looked lovely in the moonlight, and he always seemed to glow..)
He shook his head; trying to clear the clouds of pain and sadness that memory had caused to well up in him.
He turned from the window and let his eyes rest on his wife.
True, it was as everyone said, she was beautiful, you would have to have been insane not to see it. Her face was alive even as she slept, and her hair was as dark and glowing as the finest mahogany, and he knew that he cared for her greatly. Yet, in his heart of hearts he knew he could never do her justice.
With a light growl he strode to the door, opened it and left.
He could never love her as unconditionally as she loved him. For whether he meant to or not he was always comparing her to someone else.
Noting the differences in the way they walked, talked, laughed and smiled.
Comparing her elegant dark hair and eyes to his lighter and more sunny ones.
Comparing the desperation with which she clung to and kissed him, filled still with the worry he would leave her, to the tender softness that had been the nights he had spent on his quest with his blonde haired lover.
Comparing her open declarations of love to the quiet, almost coy endearments that had come from the other.
Comparing the prince of Mirkwood to his wife. And each time it was not his wife who came out on top.
He came to a stop out in the grounds, by a large pond of crystal clear water.
He sighed. He had loved her once, he was sure of it, and that's why he had taken her as his Queen. He had thought his feelings for Legolas had been nothing more or less than the desire for care and comfort in troubled times, superficial so to speak, convenient.
But now he knew better.
He could remember every detail of the perfect face. The gracefully arched eyebrows, the eyes, large and liquid, they seemed to shift colour with the princes moods. The delicate nose that at one point he had loved to kiss, just so he could watch the way it wrinkled, the lips, he could remember them in the most detail. A rosy pink, not to large, but not thin either, perfect. Soft as velvet, smooth as silk, with thin lines running down them as water does a fall.
All these were memories that Aragorn would hold with him for ever. But sometimes memories were futile reminders of a future that could never have been.
Aragorn shook his head and ran a hand through his hair.
It could never have been. He knew that. He couldn't have brought the lovely elf to Gondor with him, it had been hard enough to convince the people to accept Arwen, imagine how hard it would have been to accept a male elf, that aside, his linage must continue.
Aragorn himself didn't care if he never had children. If he could have stayed with the blonde elf he wouldn't have cared one bit. But the fact that he was a King threw a whole new perspective on the matter. The throne must have an heir, no matter what the King himself felt. Even if the King had never asked to be King.
He looked around him.
A castle, gardens, flowers, trees and Walls..
He hated the walls. He was used to the life of a Ranger, going where he pleased when he pleased, now he may have well been on a leash or chained to a pillar, he couldn't go anywhere without an armed escort, and it did NOT agree with him.
With a sigh, his mind for what seemed like the hundredth time ran over the memory that caused the occasional pangs in his heart to become a flooded river of guilt, pain, and sadness.
*~#=#=~*Flashback*~=#=#~*
"I do." Aragorn intoned solemnly. At last the final speech of the service was completed and Aragorn place a chaste kiss on the lips of his new wife.
As they walked back down between the rows of guests, her arm through his, he had allowed his eyes to ghost over the congregation.
Dwarves, men, elves, hobbits, all had gathered to see the occasion, there were reputedly a small collection of Ents waiting on the edge of a nearby forest as well..
His eyes fell on a head of blonde hair that out shone all others by far.
(Legolas.) His mind supplied.
He let his eyes ghost down to that much beloved face, expecting to maybe see a little regret, but at least some of the strength he had shown during the quest of the ring, and the understanding that what he was doing was necessary. But what he saw stilled his breathing and almost stilled his heart.
The beautiful eyes were clouded with pain, and there was, within them, the most unbearable essence of betrayal, another look showed tears running in small rivers down the ivory cheeks.
As he and his new bride walked past the row the elf sat in, Aragorn saw Legolas lift a hand and place it over his heart and bow his head as his shoulders began to shake.
There were tears in many an eye, but none of them held the profound pain that was in the tears of the blonde prince.
Aragorn realised, now that it was too late to change anything, that it had been his unthinking actions that had put that pain there. He hadn't explained a thing to the elf, it would have seemed to the world as if he had been using him.. and that must have been how Legolas felt as well. Aragorn scowled, Why hadn't he taken the time to explain the situation.. Because he had been a coward, that was why.. Because he had feared that had he looked into those eyes but once more he would never have been able to stop.
~*~
He had not seen Legolas for very long after the ceremony. The Prince had presented himself to the 'Happy Couple' once, and had, with a smile Aragorn could see through in the blink of an eye, told them that they were perfect for each other, and after embracing Arwen, had informed her that she looked radiant.
He had then been seen talking with another group, elves mainly but also a couple of Hobbits, and once sitting on his own under a tree, eyes once again a mask of pain. When Aragorn had approached him the pain had intensified and Legolas had, in a flash of blonde hair, vanished into the darkening night.
*~#=#=~*End Flashback*~=#=#~*
That had been the last time Aragorn had seen the elf as he had never returned to the party. Aragorn presumed that he had returned home, and would now be, as all his kind were, making his way to the Undying lands.
Aragorn had however met with a couple of his other companions from the Quest, well, the hobbits and Gimli anyway, but all of them had behaved strangely towards him, coldly almost, at the time he had thought they were just uncomfortable with him because of his new position. Now he realised, they must have seen what he had done to Legolas, who had been a friend to them as well.
The hobbits had been almost silent; answering in one or two words if at all and Gimli had roughly congratulated him and then ignored him for the rest of the celebration.
How he wished he could change the past.
But it was too late for wishes. Legolas had left Middle earth forever. Aragorn wished that he could have had the chance to say goodbye.
He also wished, more profoundly tonight that ever before that he had had the chance to explain his actions, Legolas hadn't deserved to be simply thrown aside, he had deserved more.. So much more.. More than Aragorn could ever have hoped to give him.
With a final longing look at the moon which reminded him so much of the love he had been forced, by his devotion to duty to ignore, the love that still live on in his heart, he walked back into the castle that had become his prison.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Well, I really hope that that was worth waiting for.. I will, I hope, see you in chapter three, which is all ready and written.
