Revelations by Númenora

Disclaimer: Characters that you recognize are the domain of J. R. R. Tolkien and his estate and possibly others who are authorized to use them for profit (which does not include me). I am making no money from this and no infringement is intended. Any other characters that may appear are of my design and clearly pale in comparison; although these characters may have the names of other Tolkien characters from the Appendences or from other Tolkien works.

Rating PG-13 for this chapter

Warning: this is Slash m/m. Again, this is a slash story; if you don't like or approve of these type stories, please do not read it. This is a simple work of fiction and is not meant to make you think, nor is it trying to be a great piece of literature. It is simply something I wanted to write and share; if you don't like it, you are welcomed to give constructive criticism, but I would appreciate it if people refrain from flaming (they serve no purpose except to be mean and juvenile).

Chapter two

"Forgiveness"

A/N: Since I have no idea what month or time of the year Aragorn was born, I will take some liberties and have it fall in the Spring in April. This is un-betaed (all mistakes are mine).

This work is un-betaed (all mistakes are mine).

Thoughts in italics

denotes a Flashback

Legolas paced nervously back and forth in the elegant guest room normally reserved for visiting royalty, ambassadors or other dignitary. His Adar had allowed him to choose a room for his mortal friend instead of throwing insolent young man in the dungeons as was the King's first instinct. 'Imagine this young whelp daring to trespass in my realm uninvited!' The Prince's parent raved as the Royal Family and the 'uninvited' guest entered the palace.

Legolas had then pulled his father aside and he eventually convinced his King to be lenient for his (Legolas' sake). Reluctantly, he agreed. With a few words of sympathy and looks that clearly read 'better you this time' from his siblings (who will surely want a full accounting later), Legolas ordered several servants to ready the guest quarters in the family wing.

He and Estel (or Aragorn as he had been informed earlier) stood awkwardly just inside the room as a bath was made ready and the bed was stripped and re-made very efficiently and in record time. Estel's pack had been retrieved and was now laying open as the young man searched through it to get some needed items.

"Why don't you give your spare traveling clothes to Amarië; she can retrieve the ones you are wearing later, Est...Aragorn. There should be a robe inside near the tub for you to wear in the meantime..." Legolas' voice trailed off at the barely civil stare being directed at him from the young man. Swallowing nervously, he directed a request to the auburn-haired elleth Amarië standing patiently nearby, "Why don't you go and find some clean clothes for our guest; thank you." She and one other servant were the only ones still present.

The female maidservant curtsied and exited the room nearly the exact moment the other one walked out from the bathing chamber. Mablung, an elf who had been in service to King Thranduil since the time of Oropher (the King's Adar), announced that the bath was ready. The old elf smiled gently in the proper manner of one of his station and waited to assist the (grubby) dignitary (why else would he be in this privileged space?).

With a half-amused/half-annoyed lifting of Aragorn's brow aimed at the blond Prince, Legolas said quietly, "It is his duty to act as valet to anyone occupying this suite of rooms."

"Really? I mean no slight to you, sir, but I can carry on unassisted. If you will wait but a moment, I will hand you the rest of my things." Mablung left soon after gathering the soiled garments and Legolas was left to ponder what he would say to Estel...Aragorn...I don't even know what to call him!

The young Prince was in a terrible state; his one and only love hadn't said two words to him after informing him of his name change and accusing the elf of some perceived betrayal. Only Estel (or whoever!) could make him feel this vulnerable. He never minded being vulnerable around the young man because he never exploited the situation. But this was the first time feeling this way was a disadvantage for Legolas.

The belief that he was losing the one he loved struck with a vengeance and his pacing faltered. I better sit down and wait; perhaps after he gets clean and Estel rests, we can talk about what is upsetting him. Drawing his knees to his chin, Legolas closed his eyes. He barely acknowledged the returning Amarië with fresh clothes along with another servant with food enough for two. He elected to think back to the last time he was in Rivendell with his Sweet One and everything was right between them...

/Flashback:

April 18, TA 2949

"It won't be long, now, Legolas; just keep hold of my hand. Estel said to the stumbling elf.

"I don't need to be blindfolded, Estel. You want our destination to remain secret—this I understand. But I can keep my eyes closed until we arrive," the blond Prince said reasonably.

"The blindfold is a precaution. My surprise is very special and I don't want you to see it until just the right moment!" The young mortal said with glee.

"Estel—perhaps other humans are not aware of this, but, for the most part, elves are very trustworthy people. We can be trusted to follow directives both simple and complex. There is no reason to doubt my sincerity when I promise to keep my eyes closed!" Legolas said through gritted teeth as he stumbled for what seemed the thousandth time.

The dark-haired adan chuckled at the uncharacteristic display of pique from his companion. "I know that you are sincere and I trust you with my life; I also know that most elves are trustworthy people, but you forget—I grew up in the company of two very curious and often mischievous identical brothers who suffer from lapses in their normal exemplary Elven behavior. You and they are very good friends and they have the habit of influencing other elves in ways that these elves themselves wouldn't normally allow. For instance, would you believe that they convinced Erestor to try and drink a glass of miruvor wine while standing on his head right after they managed to convince him to drink too much in the first place? So, forgive me for being a bit precautious…you spend much more time in their company than Erestor and he is old enough to be their parent!" The entire time that Estel had been making his case while recounting the miruvor incident, Legolas had been laughing as he imagined the scene. He knew that his friend had a point when it came to Elrond's Twins. He himself had witnessed similar incidents during his years of acquaintance with Elladan and Elrohir.

"Very well," The Mirkwood native laughed. "You have made your case. I hope that we get there soon because I fear that the ground may come up to greet me any moment now, the way I keep stumbling and tripping."

"It is not much further, your Highness. But, you are right about the ground—I don't want you falling. So…" With a swift motion, the handsome young man turned to Legolas, placed the picnic basket he'd been carrying in the slender hand of his companion and swept him off his feet—literally. It was very easy to gather the Prince into his arms since the elf weighed practically nothing and the human was quite strong for an eighteen-year-old.

"Estel! It is not necessary for you to carry me as if I'm an infant. This is highly unusual…I'm…I'm…" The Prince was nonplussed; but, he was secretly very thrilled being this close the very attractive man. With one hand gripping the basket handle and the other wrapped around the smoothly muscled shoulder of his bearer, Legolas continued, "I'm not an elfling or a helpless female, my Lord. And, why are you surprising me, anyway—it is your birthday, is it not? All surprises should be yours today."

"To answer your question, I felt like giving you a surprise. Also, I know very well that you are no infant, elfling or helpless female—you aren't helpless in any capacity. You are, however, at a disadvantage not being able to see and I am more than capable of carrying you. Just think of this as being a special gift to me—holding you this way and having you all to myself."

The Prince didn't know what to say to this, so he merely smiled (and blushed like a maiden to his detriment). "So, what did you pack for our lunch?" He said to change the subject.

"Berries, nuts, cheese, muffins and sweet cider. I was warned by both Cook and Arwen not to feed you too much since you don't eat enough and they have planned a very elaborate feast for my party tonight. I think that they nearly forgot themselves and were about to admonish me not to eat too much as well—that is until common sense took over. They were too wonderful to behold!" Then, a minute later, Estel said, "Look, Legolas, we're here!" Sheepishly, he added a second later, "Sorry..."

"You should be, Young One." Estel growled (as Legolas knew he would) at the endearment that his Ada Elrond bestowed on him long ago. Reluctant to remove his arm from around the 'young one,' he asked, "Could you remove my handicap, now? I'd like to see where we are."

"Your wish is my command, my Prince." When the cloth had been untied, the blond beauty blinked his eyes several times to clear his vision.

When he could finally see clearly, he turned his head back to look into the blue-green eyes of the one still carrying him. "This is where you found the mistletoe and where we found you nearly frozen and unconscious." At his friend's nod, he asked, "Why here?"

"This is where my life changed—where I feel that I stopped being a child and found the means to seal my future to yours. You probably think that I'm still that child saying such things—a silly child at that." It was Estel's turn to blush this time.

"I have never thought of you as silly, my Sweet One. I have always found you to be attentive and courteous and you have always made me feel worthy of the title I was born with." Legolas said sincerely. He suddenly felt a bit silly himself when he realized that he was still in Estel's arms. Then he became mortified when he discovered that he really wanted to stay where he was. Blushing again (this was getting to be a habit), he said with uncharacteristic shyness, "You can put me down, now. There is little chance of me stumbling since we have arrived."

"I know that I can or should put you down, but I'm not sure if I want to do so. As I said before, I like holding you this way and having you all to myself. Let us move closer to my old friend, the elm." As they approached the ancient tree, it began to shake its leaves and branches in greeting. "Hello, friend elm; look who I brought to see you." The human spoke.

"Hello there, Old One. It is good to see you once again." Swallowing a bit of disappointment when he is finally placed on his on two feet, Legolas ran his hands along the trunk of huge tree in greeting. His disappointment was short-lived as he realized that his handsome friend had no plans to move away from his side. In fact, they stood so close that neither had any trouble feeling the body heat of the other.

"Why don't we sit on this side facing the brook?" As the two rounded the considerable girth of the trunk, Legolas was pleasantly surprised to see a blanket already there. Amazingly (or perhaps not since this particular tree was obviously still quite fond of Elrond's youngest), there was not a single leaf or branch on the surface of the striped soft wool—as if it had only just now been laid out instead of hours earlier.

"You've thought of everything it seems. I like my surprise, Estel."

"I'm glad, but there is more—I hope you approve." The dark-haired male retrieved the basket that the Prince still carried and set it down on the blanket and then, "Shall we?" indicating that they sit down. When both were seated, they stared shyly and a bit timidly in each other's eyes.

Legolas was the first to speak after they broke out in nervous laughter at the absurdity of the situation. "You said that there were more surprises—what are they?"

"Impatient Prince, what am I to do with you?" The laughter seemed to release them from their awkwardness and Estel moved closer to his Perfect Prince. "I want to tell you some things now before the day erupts into revelry and leave us with barely a moment to ourselves—some important things. I am not sure how you will react to what I will say, but I must say them. Firstly, I am so very happy that you are here with me again. I have missed you so much. Everything that I do or have done, whether I was conscious of it or not, is because of you. Somewhere in my mind I am always thinking 'what would Legolas think of this or what would he do in my place?' You inspire me to be the best Estel, the best person, period. Thank you."

The Prince was too touched to respond right away. You are the perfect blend of the boy you were just a short time ago and the man that you have become, Estel—truly amazing! "You honor me with your words and sentiment. I don't know how I earned such loyalty from you when I've done nothing to deserve it."

"How can you say that?" The 18-year-old exclaimed incredulously. "Don't you know how special you are—which is why a small boy could fall in love with you and remain so all these years?"

"I can hardly take credit for that, Mellon-Nin; my appearance is by the Grace of the Valar and through the traits inherited from my parents. That you should admire me for it—it is too generous."

"You truly don't see your worth, do you? The child that I was may have been in awe of your incredible beauty and might have kept that crush for a few months or a year or two, but what made me love you unconditionally and so deeply all this time, was your true self, Legolas. You could have made me feel like fool for presuming that I, a mortal boy, could make you, an Elven Prince, fall in love with me. You let me follow you around like a love-sick puppy and you never became annoyed or tried to ignore me. You answered every question and you were genuinely interested in what I had to say. No question or opinion was too silly and you never once laughed at or looked down upon me, even though you had every right. You always had amazing patience with me, staring me straight in my eyes when we talked.

"Do you remember the first time we met—that first night in the Hall of Fire? I asked you so many questions about Mirkwood and about the famed treasure that your ada was said to have hidden away. Adar and Arwen were mortified and begged me to leave you be; but you told them that it was alright. You told me about the time when your father and the Dwarves (who were great miners and hoarders of gems, gold and mithril) were still very close; how they built the Underground Palace that you and your family called home. You explained that the rumored treasure was just a myth according to your father, but that you as an elfling led your friends on many treasure hunts looking for it. You recounted many stories of your childhood to me; some of them I had the feeling that you never told anyone outside of Mirkwood about—not even my siblings. I could go on and on with examples of your kindnesses, Legolas, but I think that you are beginning to understand my affections a bit more.

"You are beautiful, yes; so beautiful that you steal my breath away. But, it is the person you are inside and that beautiful heart you possess that make me love you more every day. And I do love you, My Perfect One. This is the real surprise that I had planned for you; I wanted you to know that I love you no longer as a child would—I love you with the love and passion of an adult. I do not expect you to love me in the same manner. I know that you care for me and have for all the years that we have known each other—this is enough for me. I only ask that you allow me to continue to love you and I promise that I won't try and force you to say or feel anything that you don't want to do." The whole time that the future King of Gondor spoke, he had been caressing the soft skin on the wood-elf's face—his prominent cheekbones; his soft, shapely lips and the tiny braids at his temples. Legolas found himself overwhelmed—both by the revelations Estel confessed to him as well as by the sensuous touches he was experiencing.

"Estel I...I can't..." The blond was having trouble forming his thoughts. "Please..."

"Shhh, Legolas; it is okay. I meant what I said. You aren't expected to reciprocate my feelings." The Prince could hear the heartache in handsome mortal's voice and his signature confidence began to falter.

"No, Estel, it is not that." Legolas grabbed hold of the hands still exploring his face. "I need for you to stop touching me for a few moments so that I can put more than two words together."

Estel smiled tentatively as the beautiful elf held his hands against his heart (which the human noticed was racing). "Alright, your Highness."

"Please don't call me that; I keep expecting my brother Oropher to appear. I'm simply Legolas...your Legolas. I am so flattered by your proclamations—no, don't interrupt me or I'll never be able to tell you what I am feeling. What I am trying to say is that I have done you a disservice, Estel. I have accused you of being shallow when I should have known better. You were always an intelligent child with a depth that was missing in most centuries-old elves. I should have known that you would look beyond my physical appearance. Please forgive me for that."

"I could forgive you anything."

"Good...that makes me happy. Now I will tell you something that I have been waiting to tell you for about nine years: Do you remember when I kissed you under the mistletoe?"

"You jest, surely? How can I not? It was the greatest night of my life and it one of the reasons I brought you here today—to celebrate that moment." Estel explained, no longer fearful his Prince would reject him.

"Did you see anything when I kissed you?"

The young man hesitated before answering; Legolas had never made him feel foolish even in the face of some outrageous suggestions or observations he made in the past. But he wasn't sure if he should answer truthfully this time.

"Estel?" At the sincere look upon the wood-elf's face, he relented.

"I saw us; at least, I saw you and a man who could have been me. He was kind of fuzzy; you may not have noticed, but you tend to draw my attention away from all others. There was mistletoe and kissing. There was also death and sadness, but I felt that we were happy in spite of it. Then there was dancing under the stars and I was so blissful and content holding you. I thought that it was my wild, child's imagination." Estel was relieved to finally admit this to Legolas.

"It wasn't your imagination unless we both imagined the same things. I saw everything you saw and I fell in love with the man that I saw—that man was you. I have waited most patiently for you to grow up and tell how I feel about you. I love you with all my heart and all that I am; and I want to be with you for as long as the Valar allows." The Prince released the hands that he'd been holding and placed both of his on the slightly stubbled face of his 'new' love.

Estel smiled crookedly and asked, "Do you suppose that there is mistletoe above us?"

"Anything is possible. In fact, I may see a perfect bough just up there," Legolas said, pointing a slender finger. He then traced that same finger along the full lower lip of his companion. "What are we to do—or what are you to do? I seem to remember that the last time we found ourselves under mistletoe, I kissed you. I think that it is your turn, now."

"I think that you are correct in this!" Estel generously agreed. Replacing his hands so that they could continue their previous explorations, he moved his head closer to the blond elf sitting very close to him. He let his lips follow his fingers, kissing every place they caressed—the forehead; each temple; each heavily-lashed eyelid; one perfect nose; one cheek, then the other; both jaw-lines, then to the chin; then up to the loveliest set of pointy ears. "How am I doing, Meleth-Nin?"

Smiling at the endearment and trying desperately not to swoon, Thranduil's youngest answered, "That was very nice—extremely nice, in fact. But I believe you forgot the most important place, my love."

"Ai, of course!" The bold younger male picked up the Prince's two slender hands from where they had come to rest during his near-swoon (Estel's chest) and patiently began to kiss each and every digit one by one, paying special attention to the smallest ones. From there, he placed reverent kisses on each palm and then each pale wrist before working his way up the right arm to the neck and then the left one in turn. Smiling at his accomplishment (and his obvious effect on the elf), he inquired of the panting blond, "How was that?"

"That was very nice, too, but shame on you for fishing for compliments!" He was stalling to gain his breath back. "You are still missing the mark, young man."

"Don't take that archery instructor's tone you use with me on the practice range!" Estel mock scolded.

"My instructions and tone have made you a better archer, has it not? It seems that you are in need of tutoring in the art of kissing, so I will instruct you!" Legolas was enjoying his jest for he knew that the young man ravishing him needed no instructions whatsoever. "Think back to that night of Yule when I kissed you; where did I place my lips?" He said in his best teacher's voice.

"That night was something of a blur—I almost died, you know. I'm sorry, Legolas...don't be sad. You and Ada and my friend here save me." A brief shadow passed over wood-elf's visage for a split second, but Estel saw it. He kissed the Prince's right temple again which earned him a beautiful smile. "Where were we? Oh, yes; I was lying in bed in the Houses of Healing dreaming of mistletoe and cerulean blue eyes and silver-blond tresses. Then I smelled cream and honey and sweet berries and I heard the sweetest singing imaginable. Then I heard what I never thought I would live to hear—my Perfect One said that he wanted to kiss me and he did just that. He kissed me sweetly upon my lips. Aha! Now I remember. Come here, Lovely One." Wrapping his arms around the slender waist that Estel imagined was made to fit into his embrace, he pulled Legolas closer, breathing in the sweet familiar scent. Legolas met him half way and they met in a kiss that was both tender and savage in its simplicity.

The kiss wasn't demanding at first; it seemed content to allow the two beings to get use to touching. After what seemed like years, or only seconds, Estel wanted more and ran his tongue along the soft Elven ones against his, inviting his counterpart to do the same. Shyly, it did so; meeting the human organ out in the open, tasting and teasing (each male wondering where the other had learned such maneuvers).

Growling, the human male pushed impatiently, but gently into the elf's mouth to savor more of him. If anyone had asked Legolas before this day (in Estel's company) if it were possible for Elves to swoon, he would have answered in the negative; but it seems that he had been fighting the sensation all afternoon which had now becoming a loosing battle.

Oh, just give in, elf...it feels so good! It was now Legolas' turn to wrap his arms around the man kissing him with such passion; he threaded his hands through the dark unruly tresses, molding his palms to the skull underneath. He couldn't get close enough it seemed and he found himself in Estel's lap, straddling his waist.

Estel wasn't sure how he lost control of the kiss and he couldn't have cared less in that moment. He had everything he'd ever hoped for—the elf of his dreams in his arms (on his lap), devouring him with abandon and totally in love with him. All was total bliss.

Until...

The eyes of both the current Prince and future King flew open in the same moment. They were breathing hard and trembling and they were quite aware that they both were completely aroused and intimately pressed against one another. How did my hands end up on Legolas' bottom? Estel thought.

And Legolas, How did I get into his lap? "I think...

"...Yeah," The 18-year-old agreed and they reluctantly untangled themselves one from the other awkwardly.

"What did you bring to drink? I find I'm quite thirsty," The elf asked huskily, clearing his throat as he tried to straighten his half-unbraided hair.

"Sweet cider, remember?"

"Yes, of course...I remember." Opening the container, he offered some to Estel who was also trying to make himself presentable again.

"No, thank you. My thirst has been slaked." At the curious, uncomprehending look on the other's beautiful face, he elaborated with a mock-wolfish leer, "With elf..."

Legolas blushed for the millionth time that day (this is getting to be bothersome!) and grabbed a handful of nearby leaves and twigs and threw them at the unrepentant young man which sparked him to reciprocate in the same manner, causing them to erupt into another bout of laughter, again breaking the awkwardness between them.

"It is amazing," Estel said pulling his love close to him.

"What is so amazing besides you?"

Snuggling closer, the mortal said, "It is amazing how I forget all about food and drink—you know how I love my food—when you are with me. I care nothing for the mundane things in life unless they are connected to you. Why is that?"

Legolas laughed at the statement concerning Estel's love of food; Elladan often claimed that the young man was not only part Númenórean—the other part was pure Hobbit. "It is because you are in love me which I find to be the amazing thing. You are not alone in this; I too find no interest in the mundane when we are together. I am quite content to sit here in your arms listening to the beat of your heart."

"Will you sing to me? You know how I love your singing."

Laying his head on the smoothly muscled shoulder of his love, The Prince began to sing. They stayed like that until they were compelled to return to the Last Homely House to prepare for birthday celebrations.

Legolas and Estel's love for each other grew from that day and they savored every moment together until the Prince had to return to Mirkwood the first of September.

End Flashback/

The wood-elf's feeling continued to deepen over the next three years and he never doubted that the two of them would share their lives forever. But that was ending it seemed; his Estel—his Aragorn—no longer seemed to care for him.

Unbeknownst to the Prince, Estel too was reminiscing about happier times. He had had nearly four months to come to terms with the revelation of his heritage until he learned that Legolas had known his secret just as his family had and had elected to keep it from him.

/Flashback

April 18 and 19, TA 2951

His 20th birthday was one of the best days of his existence and it only got better when he finally retired to his room. He sat upon his bed holding the small package from Legolas; and at the last moment before his birthday ended when the wood-elf said he would be thinking only of him, Estel opened the present and removed the mithril locket-pendent. It was of a delicate design with a blue stone that was the same color as Legolas' eyes. What was inside the locket, protected on both sides by fine crystal, were two locks of silver-blond hair—one finer than the other.

As he read the note accompanying the gift, he learned that the finer lock was from infant Legolas' head and the other was his mother's hair. She had given each of her children a similar jewel (the others had emeralds like their eyes) and bade them to cherish and keep it safe until they decided to give it to someone they loved—a mate or a child of their own.

Legolas gave his to Estel and he was touched beyond words, while counting the days until they were together again. Everything was right and perfect until the next day when Lord Elrond called him into his study and told him that he was the long-lost Heir of Isildur and that his future was tied to that of all mankind and all of Middle-earth.

"You are the hope of the world, Estel. That is why I named you thus. But you must take the name that you were born with and embrace your heritage," the Lord of Imladris told him.

Still in shock, he asked his foster-father, "What name was I born with?"

"Aragorn and your father was Arathorn and your mother is Gilraen of the Dúnedain rangers."

"She is alive?" At his ada's nod, he inquired further, "Where is she. Why did she leave me here alone?"

Raising his voice slightly, Elrond exclaimed, "You were never alone! Your brothers, Arwen and I loved you and cared for you. And your mother...your mother struggled long and hard about leaving you here. You probably don't remember, but she was here until you turned 5; she slowly weaned you from her and let Arwen care for you daily while she took a less active role. She decided to return to her people and let you become Estel, the mortal ward of Rivendell. It was for your protection; the Forces of Evil would have hunted you down and destroyed you the way they destroyed your father Arathorn ll. We thought it best that everyone think you died along with your sire. And...and we felt it best for you to think that she too had died until the time was right for you to know all."

"I see," The young man said dully. Getting up from his seat in front of Lord's ornate and cluttered desk, he mumbled something about needing to think and left the study. For weeks, he withdrew from his family. No one—not the Twins, not Arwen nor Elrond—could reach him enough to bring back the carefree young man they had raised for the past eighteen years.

Then out of the blue, one month and a half after he learned the truth, he asked his brothers to take him to see his mother. Though Elrond was reluctant to do so (he was honest enough with himself to admit that he feared losing his son to his birth parent although he cared for her), he agreed to allow it—not that he could have stopped Aragorn from going (alone if pressed). He wanted him to become the man he was born to be; at least he tried to convince himself that he did.

Later...

"When will you be leaving, ion-nin?" Estel was in the garden just beyond the Hall of Fire.

"In two days. Elrohir tells me that we should go as soon as possible while it's still Summer since I am not sure how long my visit in Eriador will be. This will give me plenty of time to get back before the weather changes—I plan to be in Mirkwood in mid to late Fall before the snows block the mountains."

"You plan to stay away from home for so long?" Elrond tried not to sound too disappointed.

"I'm not sure how long I will be gone, but I will return here before going to Mirkwood to be with Legolas." Estel then said guiltily, "He must be so worried about me since I haven't written to him yet. I don't know what to say to him about this...how he will react to the news of all of this. I feel like such a fraud! I am no longer the man he fell in love with; I am the heir of an accursed lineage."

"Legolas loves you and he will accept you; that will not change just as you haven't changed. Please remember that, although Isildur failed Middle-earth, not all of your ancestors—which includes my beloved brother Elros—failed or betrayed anyone. You are an honorable young man and anyone—including Legolas—would be blessed to have you. I love you, Estel; I know that you don't feel loved right now—I understand that. But you are and I and your siblings are most proud of you. You just need time; take all that you feel necessary and I will be here when you return." Embracing the somber son, the Lord left the garden.

Two days later, they left. It took them nearly four weeks to find Gilraen; she had left her home to travel with the rangers who were crossing the deserted lands of Minhiriath and Tharbad, headed near to Mordor. Apparently several small villages of people were trying to resettle these lands once devastated by the Great Plague and were now being plagued by Orcs. Some of these people Gilraen had known when she and Arathorn first met. The Dúnedain were headed there to rid the settlers of the foul creatures. Once there, there was little time for Aragorn to speak with his mother the way he wanted to; but after the worse of the Orc bands were destroyed and the others had fled (which took the better part of a month), mother and son were able to talk. She managed to make him see why the secrecy was necessary and why she felt she had to leave him in Rivendell. Her kind, gentle ways managed to help him to try and understand why Elrond kept the secret from him so long.

Everything fell apart, however when he told her of his love of the Mirkwood Prince, Legolas. He was extolling his love's virtues and how he (Aragorn) felt no longer worthy of the blond elf. He told her that he knew that King Thranduil hated Isildur for his weakness; a weakness that not only betrayed Isildur's own slain father, Elendil, but The King's own Adar as well as his friend Gil-galad, King of Imladris. "Legolas is sure to reject me, now; or his father will forbid him to love me."

Elrohir had just joined the talking pair around the campfire when he overheard their conversation; he hated hearing the despair in his younger brother's voice. So in an attempt to allay his fears, he informed Aragorn that Legolas was aware of his heritage and that the prince never held any of it against him.

"Legolas knows...for how long?"

Elrohir was suddenly unsure of his decision to tell the mortal. "At least as long as he's known you, I think—perhaps longer...I don't know..." The dark-haired elf's voice trailed off.

"Another person who has been lying to me; when will it end?" Estel got up and left his family members and went off into the night. When he had failed to return by the next evening, the Twins headed out to look for him. They tracked him for days, but lost his trail near the River Glanduin (he learned his lessons well); but it didn't take much for them to deduce that he was headed to Mirkwood and Legolas.

Estel knew that his brothers were following him and took great pains to lose them; he was surprised that they didn't pick his trail again by forgoing sleep (which elves needed less of) thereby making up for the day's head-start. Whatever the reason, he was grateful for he knew that they had figured out his destination.

End Flashback/

Now, here he was, procrastinating in the bathing chamber when the reason for his being here awaited him outside the door. I have to know your part in this, Legolas. Donning the robe left for him, he opened the door and entered the room where the Prince was waiting for him.

The blond lifted his head at the sound of the door opening. "There is food; you must be hungry...there are clean clothes as well." This was said all in a rush betraying his nervousness. "Estel, please say something to me. Whatever is troubling you, we can work it through. Please, Meleth-Nin."

Estel looked like a lost boy all of a sudden. He spoke in a voice that was very defeated, "Was there ever anyone in my life—who professed to love me—who didn't lie to me?"

TBC

A/N: According to my research, Gilraen remained with Aragorn in Rivendell until 2954 when she left to return to her home in some part of Eriador. I decided to change this so that Aragorn could have something extra to feel betrayed about. Also, I decided to have Aragorn almost come to terms with his identity and then have learn that Legolas had been aware, too--this was a good way for me to create a bit of conflict between our blissfully happy love-birds (a kind of yo-yo effect). Don't worry things will get better in the next chapter.