A pair of hands slinked in front of my eyes during target practice. I had not spoken to Legolas since that morning, and was surprised he was being as cheeky as this after a very quiet dawn.

"Move your hands before I dig this arrow into your eye," I suggested playfully. After all, if Legolas wanted to play, I was not one to break the mood. Anything to ease the discomforting situation we had placed ourselves in that morning; do not get me wrong, the situation would be smoothed over of course…and why would I not want it to be? We would go on as usual. Why was I having such awkward thoughts about that morning? We were both tired and we happened to snuggle in our sleep. What was the problem? "Leaf, if you'd kindly remove your hands from my face I might spare you the rather informal meeting of my knee with your groin—"

"Is that how you would greet me?" That had not been Legolas' voice. It was deeper, huskier and more worn than that of Legolas. A familiar chill ran down my spine like someone cracking an egg on my head and letting the white run down my body, and the smell of him rather resembled that of an egg as well. I reached up to forcefully remove the hands from my eyes, spinning around to identify my assailant.

My breath caught in my throat. This was not who I remembered. Granted, he had the same dark, unkempt hair and the same stubble across his chin. He had the same dirt caked on his face and in his nails, and at his side was the same sword he had never traveled without; but something had changed. In his silver eyes lay more burden than he had left with, and more heavy knowledge than I could consider. I was awe-struck at the wisdom that now lay somewhere in the depths of his head.

"Aragorn," I breathed, almost reluctant to say his name for fear that I was dreaming. I saw his grim demeanor turn softer, lighter, and a smile spread over his face faster than fire through a wood. His aura was nearly unrecognizable, but his face and his eyes—they belonged to the Man I adored most in all of Arda.

I dropped my bow and arrow and literally fell into his arms, pressing my face so far into his neck that I nearly knocked his breath out of him. He groaned in false dismay but wrapped his strong, Ranger arms around me and held me for a thousand years. I could have sworn I saw the leaves change color and fall off the trees only to grow back a brilliant green at least twelve times before I finally unraveled my arms from his neck to take a step back and look at him again.

"Oh, Aragorn," I repeated, cracking a grin so wide it threatened to overthrow the gods themselves.

"Did you miss me?"

"You lout!" I responded, hitting him in the chest with my fist as he continued to hold me close and laugh. "I have not seen you in eight years! Not a word from you in eight years, Aragorn, and now you show up and just expect me to fall into your arms?" I was nearly screaming, but the look on my face must have countered everything I was saying because I could still feel the maniacally wide grin splitting my face in two.

"Why, yes, that's exactly what I thought, and I was right, wasn't I?" Aragorn laughed, pulling me closer. I clouted him near the ear. "Ow!" he argued, rubbing his ear tenderly with one arm while the other remained wrapped around me. "Laina, I apologize—I do, sincerely. Will you be able to find it within yourself to forgive me?" he asked, a cheeky sparkle in his silver eyes. I shook my head.

"As if I could ever stay mad at you," I replied, "Now let me go." He obliged, but not before placing a soft, dirty kiss on my forehead. I eyed him again, hoping he had only returned to Mirkwood to pay me a visit, but knowing better. I grabbed him by the hand and we began the walk to the halls.

"I know what you're wondering, Laina," he started, "but I can't talk about it right now, not with you." He sighed, and I wanted to push my luck but decided against it. Aragorn seemed weathered like I had never seen him, and despite the twinge in his voice that showed he wanted to confide in me, I also knew that if he could have, he would.

"I understand," I answered, squeezing his hand reassuringly. He smiled at me again, one of those irresistible Aragorn smiles. "Ranger," I spat under my breath.

"Tease," he retorted. I shook my head again, smiling all the while as we walked side-by-side toward the halls, as if we had never left each other's sides.

---------------

"You're back," Malian said in a rather strangled voice as we approached the entrance, just as we had all those years ago when I had first returned to Mirkwood. Malian was carefully observing Aragorn as if at any moment he would move his foot and just step on Aragorn, like squishing a bug.

"You're still here," Aragorn replied, matching the monotone of Malian's voice.

"And married," I added to ease the tension. Malian turned his gaze toward me, smiling slightly.

"Congratulations," Aragorn said curtly.

"Right," Malian agreed, standing aside to allow us to enter. I rolled my eyes.

"You two really need to end whatever inhibitions you have about one another. You're both very lovely people, despite the mistakes you both have made," I said, staring down Malian and Aragorn in turn, "and you should really stop being immature, because I'm growing a bit weary of it," I finished frankly. Malian just smiled at me, and Aragorn even chuckled a bit. The two then looked at each other and bowed their heads without saying a word, and Aragorn and I entered the halls.

"I must talk to Thranduil at once," Aragorn insisted. I rolled my eyes again, certain they would soon be stuck in a permanent roll if I had to deal with Aragorn, Malian, and Legolas in one small space for any amount of time.

"Aragorn!" I heard Legolas' voice say. I looked up to see him hurrying down the stairs to greet us. "You're back," he said, ignoring my presence completely. I wanted to poke him in the eye, but thought better of it. Legolas and Aragorn clasped a hand on each other's shoulders. I raised one eyebrow at them questioningly, but dared not interrupt. After another moment between them, Legolas broke the silence. "This means things have been set into motion," he said, furrowing his brow.

"Things had been set into motion much sooner, but I am afraid the threat is now too great to be ignored. The Nazgûl have left Mordor, Legolas. They are searching for it," Aragorn was saying.

"Then it will not be long before they find it," Legolas replied, a dark cloud descending on his face.

"It may be a while yet," Aragorn muttered. "It is safe for now, but we must be ready. I will have a talk with your father," he said, finally glancing at me. "You were not meant to hear this, Laina, and I cannot explain any further—to either of you. I must talk with Thranduil and then we will wait it out."

"Wait what out?" I asked. I must have sounded like a naïve child, because that was the way in which both Legolas and Aragorn were eyeing me.

Legolas looked away after a moment, taking a deep breath, his hand still on Aragorn's shoulder. "Come with me," he said, and they both hurried up the stairs to find Thranduil, leaving me alone and completely lost, the word Nazgûl reverberating in my head.