The next time Legolas saw Aragorn was at the council called by Lord Elrond to discuss the fate of Middle-Earth. The Man had become a Ranger, and had delivered the four young hobbits to Rivendell with the help of Lady Arwen. Legolas could not help but see the love in the Elf-Maiden's eyes, though he tried to not.
The representatives of Middle-Earth sat in a crescent moon, facing Lord Elrond. The Lord of Rivendell spoke long of the history of the Ring, and told the Council, "the Ring must be destroyed." Boromir of Gondor stood and told his story, saying the Ring was a gift, a weapon even. Aragorn cut in.
"The Ring has one master, and he is not present at this Council." Boromir snorted.
"And what would a Ranger know of such matters?" He spat. Legolas stood, an unknown and undesired rage beating in his breast.
"That is no mere Ranger of which you speak. That is Aragorn, son of Arathorn, heir of Isildur, and the rightful King of Gondor."
"Legolas." Aragorn said coldly in the tongue of the Elves. He gestured. "Sit down." The Man turned back to Boromir. He spoke now in the Common Tongue of the West. "I forgive your mistake. I am Isildur's heir, not Isildur himself."
The Council turned on itself soon after, each declaring another more fit to destroy the One Ring. Legolas would not permit a Dwarf, and a young one at that, to dare shame him.
"I will take it." A voice cut through, reaching each being present and tugging them back to their senses. Slowly, the Council turned to the young hobbit.
"I will take the Ring to Mordor," he continued. "Though," and here his voice grew soft, "I do not know the way." Gandalf the Grey, dread lining each wrinkle on his face, moved to stand behind Frodo.
"I will help you bear this burden, Frodo Baggins, so long as it is yours to bear." Aragorn walked forwards next, and knelt.
"If by my life or death I can protect you, I will. You have my sword." Legolas stepped forwards.
"And my bow."
"And my axe!" The auburn-haired dwarf agreed, brandishing his weapon.
"Aragorn. Aragorn!" Legolas broke into a light jog after his friend, who strode on as if he did not hear. The Elf quickened his pace and grabbed the Man's arm. "Estel." Aragorn halted his movement, giving Legolas the chance to speak.
"Why do you flee, non mellon?" My friend? Legolas let go of his grip on the Ranger's arm. "What do you have to fear?" Aragorn shook his head, glancing around the empty hallway with unease.
"Not here," he said in a fervent whisper, and strode a few steps. "Come, Legolas," he said in the same urgent tone. Legolas took a few hesitant steps after him. Aragorn turned and broke into a jog, and so Legolas did too.
They reached Aragorn's old rooms soon after. Once Legolas had stepped inside, Aragorn took a key from the desk and slid it into the keyhole, locking the door. He replaced the key on the desk, and breathed deeply.
"You are familiar with the Lady Arwen?" Legolas nodded once.
"Yes. We are old friends. I hear there are rumors around Rivendell that you are in love. I believe bets have been placed as to when you elope." He smiled, then faltered as he saw the pain on the Man's face. "I jest, my friend. No more." Aragorn leaned heavily on the desk, his arms braced and his head bent. Black hair blocked his face.
"I do not wish to hurt her," he said finally, into the quiet. "But I do not wish to lead her on. In truth I may love another, but 'tis someone I fear may never want me." Legolas did not speak.
"Will you answer if I ask who?"
"No," Aragorn said. "I am sorry, my friend. But this is one secret I cannot share." Silence. One of Legolas' hands picked at its palm. Aragorn remained hunched over his desk, pain, fear and grief etched into lines if his face. Legolas crossed the distance between them in two strides. He lifted the chin of the Ranger, turning his head to face the Elf.
"I will not pry. But know this, Aragorn. I will stand by your side through whatever may cross us on our path to Mordor." The Man have a weak smile.
"This I know, Legolas," he said in a whisper. The edges of Legolas' mouth curled up, and he cradled his friend's face with his left hand, for his right was still under the Ranger's chin. Elf pressed his lips to the forehead of the Man, then retreated a step.
"Come," he said. "Surely this room holds lingering memories, many of them painful. Let us go and explore the gardens of Rivendell before dawn rises tomorrow, and we must leave." Aragorn gave a weary smile, and relented.
Man and Elf wandered the halls, taking in each moment. At last they reached a small terrace, facing out over water and a path below it. This path held benches, shrubbery placed between each.
The moonlight illuminated each being, painting him a kinder and softer shadow of himself. For a long time they did not speak, watching only the stars dance on the water, feeling only the warm wind whispering around them.
It was Aragorn who broke the silence.
"Thank you."
He did not have to say for what.