Author: Mirrordance

Title: Love, War

Summary: The War brought them together, but the peace will tear them apart. How much is a man willing to pay to keep a friendship, and how much is a friend willing to lose for revenge? Slash.

TIMELINE: the story happens about a year or two after Return of the King— the exact year is immaterial really, just as long as certain future events operate as a given: one, peace is yet to be attained with the Eastern tribes of Middle-Earth. Two, Ithilien is already restored and Legolas lords over the elven colony there, just as Gimli is lord of the Glittering Caves. Three, Eomer is already engaged, as is Eowyn and Faramir. Four, that Elrond and Galadriel have already sailed away to Valinor. The fic is generally faithful to the book and the movie with respect to the major events, although some factors about it may be considered as an AU; the irrepressible Haldir, for instance, is very much alive in this piece.

PART TWO: Possibilities

Chapter Twelve: Travelers

Minas Tirith

They did not say goodbye.

Again.

The elf seemed to have a bit of a penchant for inaccessibility lately. But then again, Aragorn was not surprised nor was he disappointed. In fact, he was rather selfishly relieved that he didn't have to think of the right words, the right tone… How strange it was that their once great friendship and its grander love had come to this… this profound uncertainty around each other, like walking on eggshells, perpetually fearing something would break with one wrong breath.

The King had woken knowing that he was gone. His wife slept beside him, and it seemed irreverent, thinking of such things as Arwen lay beside him with her eyes closed and her lips upturned just so in a bit of a smile, caught as she was in pleasant dreams, as if she did not long to be anywhere else.

But the mind did what it did, and he found it drifting off to that last time he and the elf had spoken.

"I ask it of you," he had said, and he remembered marveling at how calm he sounded. How calm, and cold, and callous. Especially since his heart was pounding, and he remembered having been more than slightly angry.

How could he expect me to ask this, he thought, how could he…?

And then with equal coldness, Legolas nodded at him and said, "All right. We are in agreement." But in his usual way, his clear blue eyes flared as if he'd been offended, spurned. "It shall be done," the elf said, "But there are arrangements to be made."

"I understand," said Elessar, "I will give you time, and any resources you need. We," he had said the We that meant his country, and generally, the allies of Gondor, "recognize that in your actions We will be in your debt."

"I need only time to speak with my King," said Legolas, "And in the interest of saving time, as well as… as well as…" he tried to kid, but really his efforts at a smile had turned into a rather sad, painful wince, "…As well as to accost any possibility of my having to change my mind, I would appreciate it if you send a wedding party for… for Nadina. The first of the weddings will occur here, of course, in my own kingdoms. Where it is safer, and where it is expected of me. But impart that their own ceremonies will be respected and followed soon afterwards."

"I will do so," Aragorn promised him, "Our treaty will have been settled by the time she arrives."

"And then we can all go to a wedding," Legolas said, an edge to his tone although he tried valiantly to keep it detached. The subject was hard enough, even without going into arguments.

"Indeed," Aragorn murmured.

"Let it be done," Legolas said, offering his hand to Aragorn for a binding shake. Elessar took it. And thought about how different it all once had been.

As he thought so, this early morning before the sun rose. This early morning that he knew he'd already been left.

He rose from bed, quietly, so as not to disturb his sleeping wife. He ran through all the paperwork he's been working on, the treaty Nathaniel had drafted and that Eomer had passed on to him, and then the corrections that his own counsel had made. Nathaniel's treaty was already very fair and comprehensive, there really was very little else to be done. Now all he had to do was to sign it, return to the front at Rohan and have Eomer and Nathaniel sign it as well, and then return to Gondor with the two Kings and work on the increasingly anxious front to entice the rest of the Easterlings there toward peace.

The armistice he had left at the Gondor front still held, he was told, though it was wary and dangerous. No blades have crossed yet, but none of the two forces have retreated. The Gondorians awaited the word of their King, and the Easterlings struggled to recoup their forces. At this rate, if the treaty should fail, the Easterlings that the Gondor front will be facing will be much more strong than if they faced each other weeks ago. But if it succeeded… no one would have to kill and be killed at all. The stakes were high. They've known this for a long while, but time was mounting its own assault upon them, and battles could be waylaid only for so long.

He gathered the sheaf of papers from a table he had used the night previous; it was never meant to be a working table, but he liked its location for night work, over the desk in his main office. This way, he could sit by the bed he shared with the woman he loved, and rested his eyes and his heart with the occasional sight of her peaceful, sleeping face.

Although admittedly, last night the sight of her had contributed to his tribulations in a way that hasn't perturbed him since before he married her. Legolas had been right in keeping his secrets after all; the death of Lilian created possibilities that they dared not think of. These were dangerous dreams he did not want to entertain. He loved his wife, he truly did. She was enchanting and magical, the mother of his child. He'd live and die for her. But he was never deluded enough not to think of what-might-have-been's.

If I was somebody else, he thought, or if you were somebody else…

But such thoughts were desperate and destined for tragedy. They both knew this. It was why they chose to part and be with the women who owned their respective promises. Being somebody else was a fruitless exercise; if they weren't who they were, they might have had a chance of being together, but then again they might not have loved each other in the first place.

He arranged the sheaf in his arms, and then stooped over his wife and planted a kiss on her forehead. She blinked awake and smiled indulgently up at him.

"Go back to sleep," he told her gently.

"You wake me," she said wryly, "And then you tell me to sleep. Make up your mind, my King."

He smiled, freed a hand enough to ruffle her unkempt but still glorious hair. It was an improper thing to do to the Evenstar, but the childish endearment was one he irreverently enjoyed doing to her. "I will see you in a few days. Sleep peacefully, my dear. Our world is going to be much safer now."

"But why do your eyes look so sad?" she asked him softly, and when he deigned to answer, she took his hand and squeezed it, before doing as he wished and going back to sleep.

The King dressed and then woke up another Rivendell royal with far less gentleness and far more aplomb. He burst into the room with no qualms at all over disturbing its occupant, and he had a bit of a smile on his face as Elrohir shot up awake and glared at him.

Aragorn closed the doors behind him and sat next to his adoptive brother on the slightly rumpled bed. The elf was furiously combing at his hair and straightening out his robes. The Noldorin were usually very graceful, but they stirred in sleep occasionally too, especially this particularly restless one.

Elrohir's dismay didn't last for very long because it seldom did. His eyes raked through the King's clothes and concluded that he was on the way out. "Going somewhere?"

"Back to Rohan," replied Estel.

"Oh, well," said the elf, "I suppose it's all right for you to have barged so cavalierly in here to bid your old brother goodbye."

"Oh no," said Estel, "You're going with me."

Elrohir crossed his arms over his chest in piteous defiance. "Oh I am, am I?"

"Yes," the adan smiled, "I figured Rivendell can do with one less manager, for a short while."

"Elladan's not going?" asked Elrohir.

"No," replied Estel, "I didn't want to deprive Imladris of both its lords for too long. I know you planned to return there in a few days."

Now the elf was curious. His arms dropped to his sides as he pushed off his bed and rose to his feet. "We're leaving right now?"

"Shortly," replied Estel, "We're going to Rohan to sign the peace treaty. And then I'm going back here with Eomer and Nathaniel to serve our southeastern foes with the same option."

"And where will I be?" Elrohir asked him wryly.

"I'm going to need you," Estel took a deep breath, "To pick up Legolas' bride for the wedding."

Elrohir's eyes widened. "Oh! How… pleasant. I didn't know. He did not mention it. I suppose since he has no available next of kin- father busy being King and all, and I remember most his relatives have sailed away or died out in the wars- he'd ask a spirit-brother such as you to head the wedding party. But you are also otherwise occupied with matters of state, such that the duty ultimately falls to me. And where from shall I steal the lovely lady?"

"Far east," replied Aragorn, "As in TheEast, not just speaking in terms of a general direction."

"Oh," Elrohir said after a long, long moment. "Ohhh…"

"His wedding to the Easterling seals the treaty," Aragorn informed Elrohir, "I send you yes, out of the reasons you've mentioned. But also because I need a man that I trust there, and one who can command a small contingent of joint forces of Easterlings and Men of the West, without belonging to either group. For the appearance of relative impartiality. And I also need a warrior who can hold his own, should trouble arise."

Elrohir ran his hands along his face. "Ohhhh…" he said, still caught in his initial reaction.

"Is that a 'yes?'" asked Aragorn earnestly.

"Oh," Elrohir groaned, "Have you ever known me for saying no to you, hm?" the elf sighed, "I'm going to kill you Estel, really, I am. Can I ask you just one thing?"

"What's that?" the adaninquired.

"Why me?" asked Elrohir, sounding perfectly miserable.

"Well," Estel chuckled slightly, "Elladan's room is farther down the hall than yours."

To be continued…

HEY GUYS!

Thanks so so so so so much for reading and especially for the c&c's. two chapters in one post again… I know, as a reader, that super short posts after long waits can be so… well, short, haha. So two chapters for you guys since this one's short. Interlude four will be long, and it's my favorite chapter in Love, War. I hope you have fun, and your comments are always, always welcome. Thanks again and have fun! 'til the next post:)