A/N: I wrote this chapter LONG before the movie came out, but I'm writing this note to remind those who haven't read the book that the book is different from the movie. Arwen comes to Minas Tirith not on the day of the coronation, like in the movie, but quite some time afterward. I just had to clarify that, in case I get any reviews telling me that Arwen was supposed to be present at Aragorn's coronation ;) Thanks and enjoy.

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TORMENTED FOOL 2: DRUNKENNESS

Mid-year's day finally arrived; the day that Aragorn had long been waiting for. Arwen Undómiel, the Evenstar, came to Minas Tirith with her father, her brothers, and also her grandparents; and on that beautiful day Aragorn took the hand of the fair Lady and they were wed, bound together as the third reunion in history of the Eldar and the Edain.

It was a grand ceremony, and many were happy, for their King and for themselves; particularly those who were of the Nine Walkers. Frodo finally understood what Aragorn had anticipated in the last days, and after the wedding a grand ball was held, at which guests ate and drank and praised the King and his new Queen. All were happy and danced to music of merriment; even the Hobbits, for Pippin truly enjoyed the night forcefully dragging Frodo across the smooth white floor, whilst Sam and Merry linked arms with Gimli and spun him round and round against his permission until they were all dizzy and faint.

At this feast, Frodo sat with Legolas and the pair spoke together about their adventures throughout the war. Although Legolas was for the most part rather quiet, he shared much of his experiences and knowledge with the Hobbit, who appreciated it wholeheartedly. They laughed together and formed a bond, and Frodo was glad to see the Elf less despondent when distracted from his troubles.

When the guest numbers had decreased greatly and there was hardly any more than twenty, they all calmed down a little and sat down together in conversation instead, easing themselves into the exquisite house that Aragorn had given to the Fellowship. There they rested and talked and laughed; for though the day was over and the night was pale in the light of the cold moon, they could not sleep, and the recent events concerning Aragorn and Arwen excited and pleased them all too much to surrender to peaceful slumber.

'At last I understand why we have waited!' laughed Frodo to Gandalf, his cheeks flushed with joy. 'This is the ending. Now not day only shall be beloved, but night too shall be beautiful and blessed and all its fear pass away!'

'You have a gift with words, Frodo,' Arwen smiled, for she heard what Frodo had spoken, and considered it a great compliment. 'Yet I must say that it was in your own grace that these words are true.'

Aragorn grinned and squeezed his wife's hand as he turned a cheerful gaze onto all his companions, in particular a young Hobbit. 'But everyone here also played a part, so think not that you had been only useless luggage, Merry.'

A hard red blush crashed suddenly onto Merry's cheeks. 'You always manage to find out what is on my mind, don't you?'

'Somehow,' Aragorn laughed, and looked upon his comrades with fondness and love. 'And whilst I speak of everyone playing a part, I notice that indeed not everyone is here. Tell me, would anyone know where Legolas could be?'

Hearing these words the Hobbits fell silent, and they looked at each other gravely. Their eyes pierced one another, as if having a spiritualistic conversation that no one else could hear; and at once Merry, Pippin and Sam began to nudge Frodo, as though it was his obligation to speak. But Frodo hesitated and cringed a little, urging the three Hobbits to stop.

'Frodo?' Arwen asked, concerned at the expression on the Halfling's face. Frodo shot a glare at his three friends, curling his mouth in displeasure, before once more turning and humbling himself in the presence of the Queen.

'We… uh… well, he was a little down,' stuttered Frodo, trying to find the right words to say. 'You know how he's been since the end of the War; well, that's how he was, 'cept perhaps a little more extreme. He refused to speak to anyone, let alone eat – but he drank some wine, I must say; a lot of wine. A great amount of wine.'

'A great amount of wine?' questioned Aragorn incredulously, as though what Frodo had just said was a reference to a very life-threatening situation. 'Is he alright? Where is he?'

Gimli cleared his throat, as though he were confidentially asking permission to interrupt the conversations of such High Elves and Men; and it worked, for everyone in the room curiously turned their eyes to him. At this he scratched the back of his head and muttered to himself for one brief moment.

'Well,' he spoke hesitantly, 'The last time I saw him was in the hall where we had the feast, and he told me at the time that he'd consumed three chalices of wine already. I did ask him to stop, mind you, before any of you begin to drop your jaws to call me irresponsible; but he said that it did not affect him, and in truth he did look quite healthy, save for that constant frown. But Aragorn, I must tell you this: I've been thinking for some time that the cause of all this misery is you.'

'Me?' the King protested in disbelief, not understanding what the Dwarf was saying. 'Why would you think that? Legolas and I are perpetually the best of friends, and I have done naught to upset him; at least not to my reckoning.'

'I can't say yet,' Gimli replied, 'but perhaps you can find him and ask him yourself. Because it is certain now that he would not tell even me.'

Aragorn caught the eye of the Dwarf, whose expression was the same as the Hobbits and his wife: concerned, grave, and anxious. Gandalf attempted to retain an air of uninvolvement; but in his eyes worry was clearly seen, and he would not look at Aragorn, as if he knew something that the Man did not.

At last his eyes passed to Galadriel the White Lady of Lórien, grandmother to Arwen his new wife, who as ever looked more neutral than Gandalf did. She looked with blank eyes at the King, yet it was perceptible to Aragorn that she seemingly also knew something he did not. After they locked gazes for a fleeting moment Galadriel turned her eyes to the door of the house, then back at Aragorn; Aragorn understood, shocked by the slight pleading look that he had been given, and rose to find Legolas.

I've been thinking for some time that the cause of all this misery is you… Gimli's words returned to Aragorn's mind, as he fled the room and returned to the main structure of Minas Tirith. What could it be, Legolas? What am I doing that causes you sorrow, and how do I stop it?

When Aragorn returned to the hall, a woeful sight met him; Legolas was still seated at the feast table – alone – and he almost slapped his own head for overlooking the Elf, especially when he was in this condition. His head was down and he looked asleep, yet Aragorn could see from his clear eyes that he was not, and he held a golden cup filled with wine. But he was not drinking from it, and it was tilted clumsily in his hand, about to send a stream of red onto the white floor.

Aragorn frowned, for he knew that Legolas had noticed him come into the room, yet he remained still as though he did not care that someone was there. Not even a stir had come from him, the acknowledgement that a figure had passed in. Aragorn sighed and slipped agilely behind the table, seating himself down next to the Elven Prince.

'Legolas,' he said gently, using as tender a voice as he could concoct. 'Are you alright?'

No answer.

This made Aragorn frown again, and though he bristled a little with annoyance, he tried not to show it; after all, his companion was down, and it was his duty as one of Legolas' closest friends to be there for him when the comfort was needed. The golden chalice slipped even more from the Elf's pale hand, and Aragorn stretched over his right arm, trying to grasp the cup from the hold of Legolas who now sat on his left.

'Here, I will take that, and I shall take you to your room. Is that alright?' said Aragorn, and whilst catching the cup in his own hand accidently brushed against the fingers of Legolas'. Immediately the Elf responded in a way that the young King had not expected; he blushed and stirred, and set himself upright, once more seizing the goblet from Aragorn's clutch.

'I am fine, Aragorn. I will not become intoxicated merely from these draughts, not unless I drink enough wine in one day for many weeks. You need not worry whether I sleep or not; I am older than you, and furthermore no child. Go find Arwen, and go to sleep.'

'But neither Arwen nor I are sleepy, let alone the Hobbits or the Dwarf,' Aragorn weakly jested, though he knew it would not raise the Elf's spirits anyway. 'Do tell me what is wrong, Legolas. I do not like to see you like this. You are my best friend, and I worry about you.'

Best friend. I am his best friend.

'No more drink, Legolas,' stated Aragorn firmly, reaching for the cup again. 'Please. Let me take this from you. Now, tell me what is wrong, and if it is what you desire I shall give my word not to open my mouth to anyone who is presently outside this room.'

Unexpectedly (though fortunately), Legolas did let Aragorn take the wine from him this time, and let out a sigh so sorrowful that it broke his own heart. 'You know, perhaps I should leave Minas Tirith. This is the day you have waited for; you and Arwen are wed, now we should all return home. I do not belong here.'

Aragorn was leisurely taking a sip from Legolas' cup himself, but stopped when the words escaped the Elf's clenched teeth.

'I am loth for the remaining eight of the Nine Walkers to separate,' he objected, sounding almost childish. 'I know it is right to allow you all to return to your homes, but if it is in your will, I would like to ask you to remain here longer. You know well that we are all close comrades, and I have grown to love each and every one of you.'

Grown to love… each and every one. Even me.

Aragorn took another swig and completely ingested all the wine that was left in the goblet, and wrinkled his nose as he wiped his mouth; the experience was strange to him, for he did not drink this during the feast and had not expected it to be as potent as it was. Nonetheless he extended a hand across the almost-cleared table and reached for a flask in the midst, strangely enjoying the wine of which he now poured some more into the cup.

'In fact,' he continued after taking another mouthful, 'I want to prove to you how much I mean that. If you weren't in much of a hurry, I would not mind at all having you as my advisor.'

Legolas wrinkled his brow. 'Your advisor? How does that show this supposed love?'

'Hmmm… not too sure,' Aragorn replied ungracefully, his eyes wavering. 'You are a nice companion, I like having you by my side. In fact, I shall declare it so. Though a King has several advisors, you shall be my most important: you shall be, and I name you now, my Chief Advisor.'

Suddenly Legolas gasped and finally turned his eyes to Aragorn, for this declaration was made by the King himself; and this would mean that it was official, and that now he could not depart from Gondor without the foolish Man's leave.

'Estel!' he wailed, overtaken in its extremity by distress.

Aragorn swallowed the remnant of his drink, wrinkling his nose again, and tilted his head to gaze at Legolas whilst he proceeded to pour some more wine into the chalice. 'What is wrong, are you not glad?'

'Of course not!' the Elf cried, practically having to restrain himself from slapping the King. 'You have just declared me your Chief Advisor against my will. That means I have an obligation to remain here where Earth is like Hell of Morgoth to me, had you no thought of that! Or, perhaps its intensity would be less than that of Udûn, if it were not for the fact that I am now trapped here under the grasp of my duty!'

Aragorn laughed clumsily and quickly put the cup to his mouth, for he had not noticed that it had been overfilled and had allowed the sticky red fluid to run over his fingers that held the goblet. To the shock of both the chalice suddenly dropped from his hand onto the floor after he had drunk all the wine, making Aragorn laugh uncontrollably even more. Legolas raised his eyebrows in astonishment; but the Man only laughed and clapped the Elf on the shoulder.

'Forgive me for my lack of refinement, I am graceless,' he grinned as he struggled to refocus his eyes, and bent down to retrieve the goblet that had rolled away not too far a distance from him; but to Legolas' surprise the Man could not find it. Aragorn proceeded to feel the ground all about the cup which was directly in front of him, but he never touched the object itself, for before his eyes he saw many.

Legolas gave a groan, and bent down and grasped it before Aragorn could find it. 'Oh, forget it,' he muttered, trying to accept Aragorn's declaration and hoping that he would undo the formal statement once he was sober. 'And what was this about you telling me to drink no more? …But what on Middle-Earth is wrong with you? Usually eight draughts of wine would hardly make you sway; but now you stumble and you aren't even on your feet.'

'More than usual, i- it's very strong,' the King slurred, falling upon the Elf's shoulder. Feeling the soft golden hair beneath his head, he smiled and cuddled closer. 'Hmm, you're soft. And you smell good.'

Legolas looked at the King whose head rested against him, looking very comfortable, with a grin almost like that of a little child. A grief came upon Legolas suddenly, for he could not deny it to himself; he loved Aragorn and wished that the Man would return such feelings, even though there was no hope in that now. Aragorn and Arwen were wed, and there was nothing he could do that would change the inevitable. All of a sudden Aragorn's warm touch became undesirable, and Legolas moved away, sliding the head off his shoulder.

'Ohh, pity,' the Man frowned, forcing himself to sit upright once more. 'I liked leaning on you. You feel nice. And,' he blinked his eyes rapidly for a moment, 'You're very beautiful. May I ask your name, Lady?'

The Elf suppressed the urge to smack his forehead repeatedly against the table. 'Aragorn, you have clearly had too much to drink. Come, you should go to your room before Arwen worries; I will help you to bed, if you cannot get there yourself.'

Legolas stood and held out a hand, expecting the Human to pull himself up and obediently follow, but what happened next was beyond anything he had expected to occur. Aragorn also stood, but caught the slender arm and pulled the young Prince back – and although his eyes were quaking slightly, they were clearly focused on the Elf's. Legolas felt his face become hot, though he knew well that Aragorn was presently intoxicated; but he could not draw his eyes away from Aragorn's gaze, and his heart seared with a feeling he could not understand – sadness, or anger, or pity – when the King gave a small fond smile, caring although slightly impish as well.

'Go to bed, hmm?'

'Aragorn, that is not what I meant,' Legolas shook his head, though he wished he could freely even think of agreeing to what Aragorn was saying. Aragorn was forced to suppress his laughter as he saw the mixed emotions of refusal and desire, which quickly disappeared when the Elf noticed how mischievous he looked. 'This is your wedding night, remember?'

'Wedding?' asked Aragorn confusedly, and all of a sudden the smirk vanished from his face. 'With who?'

'With Arwen!' Legolas hissed in irritation, and at once he realized that all the hatred and anger within him was poured forth with the cry of that one name. It shocked him, and he burst into tears; though he did not understand why, for he did not even feel grieved enough to release them. He sighed deeply and raised a finger to wipe them away, but Aragorn swiftly lifted his own hand and brushed the pale Elven cheeks first, making Legolas slant his eyebrows with a perceivable solid remorse.

'Let's not think about that right now,' Aragorn whispered as Legolas closed his eyes and breathed, torn between anguish and enjoyment of the touch. There was a small silence as Aragorn allowed Legolas be for a small moment, beginning to understand the cause of his pain even through his slight drunkenness.

When the Elf opened his eyes, he was met by a passionate kiss, fiery with fervor and yet tender; and though he felt slightly guilty of it he wrapped his arms around Aragorn and drew him closer, sealing the small gap between them. For the first time since the end of the War, Legolas ceased his frowning even as he continued to kiss the slightly taller Estel, for he was doing that which he longed – and had dreamed he would never feel.

(To be continued)