.: Afterthought :.
A/N: This plotline involves slash - that is, a romantic relationship between two characters of the same sex. If you are in any way uncomfortable with this concept, I would advise you to click the "Back" button and find something else to read.
Otherwise, sit back, relax, and enjoy the story!
: Chapter 1- Memory :
I can still remember the warmth of the dappling sunshine on that October evening. The evening I laid eyes on Aragorn, son of Gondor, for the first time in 65 years.
I had been walking rather briskly, for the Council of Elrond was due to begin in mere minutes, and well, I dislike admitting it, but I was lost. The House of Rivendell is one of many hallways and chambers, and since I had not set foot in Imladris for many years, I found myself wandering in circles, feeling very foolish and helpless.
Just as I was about to give up my futile search and head back towards the main hall to ask a guard or wandering passerby, I heard him call my name.
"Legolas?"
I turned around quickly, unnerved. Before me stood a man of tall stature, with a crown of dark hair and slate-blue eyes that were fixed directly on me. I recognized him at once.
"Aragorn!" I exclaimed, surprised. His face broke into a bright smile, and I felt a familiar warmth flood my heart. He looked exactly like the young man I knew him as so many years ago when he smiled. "What are you doing here?"
"Running late to Elrond's meeting, of course," he replied with a grin. "And I presume that is why you are here also?"
"Yes, but I seem to ah, have forgotten my bearings about this place," I flushed slightly.
"You're getting old, Legolas," he teased.
"Not funny," I retorted, biting my lip to hold back my laughter.
"Well, my old friend, come with me." We fell into step together easily, at a rather slow pace this time. I suspected he wanted to speak a bit more before joining Elrond.
"So exactly how many years ago did we last speak, anyway?" he asked ponderously. "You don't look a day older, but I suppose I must."
It was true. The last I'd seen him, Aragorn was still a youth of only 22 years, untouched by the harshness of the real world. But now, as I stole a closer look at him, I saw the fine wrinkles around his eyes, the strands of silver at his temples, the scars on his hands from years of sword bearing. However slowly the aging process was taking place in his Dunedan blood, he was definitely no longer a boy, but a man of wisdom and principle.
But something more than just a physical change was apparent in this man. His expressions gave away nothing, but I could see everything in his dark, brooding eyes. There was fear and doubt there, relentlessly inhabiting his mind. I assumed this uncertainty and apprehension was for what was to be discussed in the council.
"Legolas?"
I blinked, snapping out of my thoughts. Aragorn was looking at me, concerned.
"I see you haven't lost the old habit of drifting off into space in the middle of conversations," he said quietly, a trace of a grin lingering on his lips.
"Just thinking back," I smiled. "I do believe it has been...64? 65? Yes, 65 years since we last saw each other."
"It's been long time, then," he said. "How have you been faring, my friend? I've long heard about the troubles arising in Mirkwood, and I even ventured out to help out, but the forests were so overrun..." he trailed off, uncertain of my response.
"Yes, the forest is rather chaotic at the moment," I replied evenly, making every effort to make my voice sound nonchalant, despite the uneasiness that arose in my heart whenever this matter was brought up. "We tried to do the best we could, but evil times have fallen, and the creatures that lurk in the depths of Mirkwood lands are leaving their caves, creating widespread terror for my people."
"I'm sorry," Aragorn placed a hand on my shoulder. I gave an involuntary shiver, but he didn't seem to have noticed. "I know how much you love your homeland."
"But enough talk of such ill happenings. What about you, my friend? Your duties as Ranger look as if they've certainly brought you many adventures."
He gave a small smile. "Indeed, I have traveled quite far, and seen sights wondrous enough to last me a lifetime, but it feels good to be home. Or, at least, as close to home as I'll ever get."
The way he spoke those last words struck me deep. I always tended to forget that Aragorn had lost both his parents at a young age, and had been nurtured and brought up here in Rivendell. Despite the kindness Elrond showed his foster-son, it didn't take Aragorn long to figure that he did not belong with the immortal Elves.
We walked the rest of the way to the courtyard in a comfortable silence. There was still so much I wanted to speak with him about, so many tales to exchange. I sensed that he, too, desired to catch up on everything that had passed over the years, but this was not the time to do so. There were more important issues that needed to be addressed.
We entered the courtyard and split up, me sitting with my kin, and him near the Men. Thankfully, there were still a few empty seats, so Elrond only frowned slightly as we walked in tardy. Looking about the courtyard, I recognized many lords and noblemen. Gandalf the Grey was present, sitting beside a Halfling. I had not ever laid eyes upon one of these folk before, only knowing of their existence through tales and stories, and I was taken aback by his innocent face and enormous azure eyes. What was this child doing here, in such a serious council?
To my great displeasure, I also noted that half a dozen dwarves were also present. They were looking towards the Elvish clan with expressions of intense dislike written all across their faces.
Minutes passed, and slowly the empty seats began to fill up. When the last member had arrived, Lord Elrond cleared his throat, and silence fell.
"My friends, let the Council of Elrond begin."
In retrospect, I was amazed that the Council of Elrond did not end in manslaughter. The tension in the courtyard was so thick it was almost visible, hanging over us like a veil of gloom and despair.
There was the obvious hostility that Boromir, prince of Gondor, felt towards Aragorn. The argument arose early in the discussion. Boromir wanted Gondor to claim the Ring, which would be used to defeat Sauron's forces. As everybody watched the two men bicker - Boromir, getting angrier with every retort, and Aragorn, insisting that the Ring would only bring treachery if used by Men - the feud grew worse and worse, until I myself stood up and revealed to Boromir that he was attacking his successor, the true heir to the Gondorian throne. He then silenced himself, but I noticed that every few minutes he would shoot deadly looks towards Aragorn, who did not seem to notice.
When it was finally decided that the Ring had to be destroyed, the question of who would do it arose. Nobody wanted the responsibility, yet the Dwarves didn't want the Elves to carry it, and naturally, I felt that any Dwarf was unfit to bear such an important burden. Accusations and insults broke out amongst the entire council, and it wasn't until we heard Frodo's little voice speak out did we stop arguing.
"I will carry it!" he said.
At first, it didn't seem like anybody had heard him at all. But the words rang through the court, silencing us all. Gandalf the Grey slowly closed his eyes. A pang of fear struck me to see the old wise wizard look suddenly look so aged and feeble.
"I will carry it - though I do not know the way," Frodo repeated quietly, his enormous eyes frightened. I suddenly knew what I needed to do – but Gandalf beat me to it. He stepped forward, announcing that he would accompany Frodo in destroying the Ring. Aragorn immediately followed, pledging his sword, and when Elrond shot me a look, I stepped up and also joined in.
Of course, Gimli, the most obnoxious Dwarf of them all, had to volunteer his axe also. I could not help but roll my eyes.
Not to be left in the dust, Boromir followed suite. With all the tension that had developed between him and Aragorn, I wasn't sure his company would do us any good. But then again, Gandalf could settle any disputes between them.
Then, unexpectedly, out of the bushes popped out three more Halflings. They ran to Frodo's side, their little furry feet pattering on the ground, and refused to leave their friend. Sam, Merry and Pippin were their names, and I immediately took a liking towards them. Frodo would need some friends as a reminder of who he was doing this for.
"You shall be the Fellowship of the Ring," Elrond declared with great pride in his voice. The remaining council members gazed at us, some in awe, some with doubt on their faces, and some with expressions of great pity, as if they were already mourning our deaths.
Beside me, Gimli gave a loud grunt of approval. I sighed. Aragorn shot me a sideways look, a mischievous grin playing on his lips.
"I look forward to finally having an adventure with you, my dear Legolas," he said to me before the group dispersed. "We've got 65 missed years of friendship to replace on this journey."
Little did we know then, but we were in for the experience that would remain with us for an eternity.
A/N: What did you think of this story's first chapter? Liked it? Loved it? Hated it? Whatever you felt, please let me know by leaving a review! Your fuel is what keeps me going!
