Chapter 13: Moment of Truth
All is lost, Aragorn thought as he looked at the objects that had fallen on to the ground. They were of no use to him any more.
I have lost the only thing that truly matters to me – the one perfect thing in my life, he thought in despair, and perhaps I was never worthy of him in the first place.
He wiped the tears from his eyes and pushed himself off his knees. He stood shakily, holding to the tree next to him for support. On the other side of the tree were the two elves, and he could not bear to look at them again. He turned to leave, hoping not to be seen; at least he could have a little dignity left.
But dignity flew away with the wind when he stepped on a large twig and announced his presence with a loud crack. He cursed softly and immediately tried to scurry away as discreetly as he could. He had not taken more than three steps, however, before he heard an elven voice call: "Aragorn?"
He whipped round to see the two elves – surprise painted on their faces – looking at him, their knives drawn. A fleeting look of joy passed Legolas' face before it was replaced by a schooled expression of indifference – as if the elf remembered something – but on Rumil's face came a hint of scorn.
"I am sorry to intrude," Aragorn said, and turned to leave.
"There is no need for you to leave, Aragorn," Legolas' voice halted him, and he turned around again to look into startling blue eyes. He thought he saw a spark of hope in them, which quickly turned to disappointment which was also reflected in the elf's next words: "But I suppose you wish to be alone again…" The voice trailed off.
"Come, Legolas, let us return to the camp," Rumil said, taking the elf prince's elbow.
The Lorien elf's words sparked something in Aragorn – anger at himself, anger at circumstances that had prevented him from pursuing his love much earlier on – and he suddenly felt he had to tell Legolas everything he felt, even if it was too already too late. He had held back for too long, but before he lost the love of his life for ever, he would make Legolas hear all that had been hidden in his heart.
"No, Legolas, please stay," Aragorn said, stepping forward, with a pleading look in his eyes. "Please stay," he repeated. He did not know what he was doing – what right he had to press Legolas to remain, but he fisted his hands and waited hopefully.
Legolas' eyes gazed unblinkingly at him, a little confused. Rumil stared at him too, a hint of disdain in his look, but his question was meant for the elf beside him: "Do you wish to stay, Legolas?'
The Mirkwood prince lowered his eyes at the question, torn between staying and leaving. A sudden surge of guilt washed over Aragorn and he felt the need to apologise.
"Rumil, I'm sorry – please allow me a little time with your betrothed," he said sadly. "I will disturb you no more after that."
At his words, Legolas' head shot up again, and Rumil's mouth fell open. They turned to exchange a look with each other before turning back to Aragorn. For a few awkward moments, no one spoke. Then Rumil took a deep breath, and the Ranger prepared himself for a string of furious words from the elven lips – but he was astonished to receive instead a slow, sad smile, and in it seemed to be written sympathy, understanding, and sincerity.
The handsome elf looked at Aragorn a moment longer before turning to Legolas to place a hand lightly on his cheek, and to smile at him in sadness. He nodded to the prince, who gave a small smile in return, and then he made a move to leave the place. But before he did, he approached Aragorn and said softly: "Do you know what happens when someone wastes a treasure that is served to him on a silver platter? He will find no lack of others who will rush to accord it the adulation it deserves." Then he nodded briefly and left.
Aragorn stared at Rumil's retreating figure, feeling both wretched and furious. Was it not enough that he had lost Legolas? Did Rumil have to remind him? Aragorn tasted bitterness in his mouth. You've won the most wonderful elf in Middle-earth, Rumil, while I live on to regret what I had not the courage to fight for before, he thought. The man looked at the love of his life, and his heart broke to think that this love now belonged to someone else.
And now that he was alone with Legolas, he felt awkward, not knowing where to begin. The prince had lowered his head again, staring at the leaves beneath his light shoes.
Aragorn walked over to the fair being and reached out with a hesitant hand to touch the smooth cheek, expecting the elf to pull away, for he knew Legolas – with his sense of decency – would not betray his betrothed. But to his surprise, Legolas made no such move, and remained still. Knitting his brows, Aragorn lifted the chin and made the elf look at him.
The blue eyes were awash with tears, even as his own grey ones began to fill.
"Legolas," he breathed. The elf closed his eyes and sighed, a trail of tears running down either cheek and melting the man in front of him. "Legolas… I…" Aragorn began again and stopped, lost for words. Helplessly, he touched the salty trails on the smooth cheeks with his calloused fingers – and still the elf did not pull away.
Hope flared in him. Could he win Legolas back?
Then the elf's words – uttered softly – cut into his heart more deeply than a steel blade could: "Have you nothing to say to this passing fancy of yours, Aragorn?"
Pain clouded the man's eyes, and he sucked in a breath. His stoic front crumbled, and he pulled the elf firmly into his arms as he pleaded into the delicate elven ear next to his lips: "Oh, please don't say that, Legolas. I never meant it - never! I was under some dark spell, and I felt I did not deserve to hold on to you. Please – please believe me! Please…"
Holding the elf tightly, he wept into the fragrant hair, and his shuddering breaths shook his frame. But he had begun, and he would not stop now. He buried his face in the soft gold silk and poured his heart out, hoping the elf could hear his words in between his strangled sobs.
"I've loved you for so long, Legolas… even before I became a man… Lord Elrond told me you were just a… a fancy… that would pass… but… it never did… it never did… and I never stopped loving you… I have never loved anyone… but you… I love you, I love you… and I should have told you this… what a fool…"
Aragorn heard the elf let out a deep breath then, and say his name like a sighing of the wind, and he felt the slender arms tighten around him. He leaned into the embrace, the keen sorrow almost killing him. He felt his own shoulder becoming wet, and he knew that Legolas was also weeping with him.
Oh cruel fate, he thought bitterly, what a cruel waste that I came too late!
"Forgive me, my love," he lamented tearfully. "Forgive me for coming too late. I was a fool, and I allowed Rumil to take that which is most precious to me."
He felt Legolas suddenly gasp and stiffen, trying to draw apart from him, but he would not let go. No, he might never have the chance to hold his beloved again, and if this was wrong, then let him bear the consequences – for this one last time to have the elf in his arms.
"Please, Legolas, let me hold you, please," he whispered into the elven ear, "before he takes you from me for ever."
"Estel… Estel…" came the fair voice in his ear, and the man thought it like the singing of the Ainur. "Hold me then. Hold me as long as you like, my beloved – for I am not Rumil's, and he can never take me from you."
Aragorn had never reacted as fast in his entire life as he did at that moment. It was he now who drew back to stare at Legolas' beautiful, teary face, not believing what he had just heard.
"What?" he asked incredulously, his grey-blue eyes wide.
Through his tears, the golden elf smiled sweetly and placed a kiss on the tip of the man's nose. "Rumil asked me to be his mate," he said shyly, "but I told him I could not – for my heart has already been given to another. And I cannot get it back."
Aragorn's lips remained parted in surprise as he continued to stare at Legolas. "Do you mean that?" he breathed, hardly daring to hope. "You did not accept him as your mate?"
The elf nodded, smiling.
"But…but…" Aragorn stammered. "I saw you holding him after he asked you –"
"I was merely comforting him, Estel," Legolas assured him quickly. "I told him I could not take him as my mate, for I have but one chosen one – I have told you this."
Aragorn swallowed. "Me, Legolas? You would still choose me?"
"There has never been another, Estel," the elf replied quietly, "I have loved you for a long time, too, and I love you still, even though I can never hope to compete with Gondor, with your desti – "
The rest of the words were muffled in a sudden, passionate kiss as the future king of Gondor showed the elf just how he could compete with – and win over – what both of them had thought necessary for the future of the Realm. In his human heart that was beginning to mend, sang the same song over and over: Thank you, thank you that he is still free to be mine!
They clung to each other, pouring all their grief and fear and joy into the desperate union of lips and tongues and breaths, and neither needed to hear anything said for many minutes. Hands and fingers clutched fiercely at clothing and hair, and every inch of their chests and stomachs and thighs were pressed together in testimony to how much each had missed the other.
Man and elf eventually eased their lips apart, but their foreheads and noses were still pressed against each other, unwilling to lose the long-absent contact. Their tears were now tears of quiet joy, each aware of the precious love they had just confessed.
Then Aragorn gently lowered them both to the grassy ground and he sat against the trunk of the tree, his arms securely around the beloved elf on his lap. And beneath the friendly boughs, with a gentle breeze caressing them, the man told the elf all that had happened to him since the night he first held the palantir and dared to challenge the Dark Lord. He spoke of his dark dreams and his fears and the blind manner in which he let the Stone guide him towards a horrifying act.
"I was willing to make that terrible deal with Saruman just to stop you from bonding," he confessed, bowing his head in shame. "I gave up the palantir, and you… you died." The horrible memory assailed him and he hid his face against the elf's chest.
The elf stroked his hair lovingly and whispered: "It was not real, Estel… let it not overwhelm you now, my love. I am here with you."
Aragorn raised his head and looked into the mesmerizing eyes, as if to convince himself they truly were alive, not glassy and lifeless…
"Sauron tried to use those visions to break my will and strength, so that I would forget about Gondor and give up this war," the man said, "and in a way, it did. But he did not think it would bring about some good."
When Legolas' face showed incomprehension, the man continued: "It showed me to what lengths I would go to make you mine, Legolas." He placed a soft kiss on the elven lips and rubbed a hand gently against the elf's back. "I was a fool not to have seen it before, or it would have saved us both a lot of heartache. Now I know I don't have to do anything as drastic as give up the palantir to have the one I love by my side. I only need to give up the notion that Gondor must have heirs from my body…"
Legolas started at those words. "What do you mean?" he breathed. He had not forgotten Aragorn's position as the heir of Isildur who needed to re-establish peace in Gondor. The elf looked hard at the man's face, waiting for an explanation.
Aragorn did not answer immediately, but shifted the elf off his lap so that he could get to his feet, helping Legolas to do the same. When he was standing erect before Legolas, he took both the elf's hands in his and held them lovingly.
"I am still committed to freeing Middle-earth and Gondor from Sauron, beloved," he stated, noting the sad acceptance in Legolas' nod. "But after that – they can either accept me as King with my own choice of mate, not a queen, and have someone else worthy take over the throne when I grow too old and step down. Or, they can choose some other King from the start; it matters not to me. What matters, Legolas, is having you by my side, till the end of my days."
As surprise painted itself on the elf's face, Aragorn added earnestly so that there would be no doubt as to the genuineness of his intentions: "I am no longer a young man, Legolas, and no one can tell me to wait any longer, for the Valar know I have waited too long. So – if you would have this unworthy Man as your mate, Prince Legolas – I beg you to bind yourself to me."
The blue eyes widened in shock, and when the lovely lips began to form a word, Aragorn already knew what it would be: "Arwen…?"
The man was ready with his answer. "We are not bonded yet," he said easily. "As I have told you – I made her no promises. The Evenstar can be returned with no dire consequences."
"But… you are certain about Gondor, Estel?" Legolas asked, his head still swimming with the unexpected turn of events. "Will you regret it one day –?"
"Nay, meleth nin," the man replied, and he loved how the words sounded on his tongue; he had wasted too many years afraid to call Legolas that, though he had said it silently in his dreams thousands of times: my love, my dearest love. "The only regret I will have is if I live the rest of my life without you as my spouse, my beloved. One thing that the accursed visions have shown me is that in any age, in any reality – no matter what the circumstances – the one thing that remains constant is my love for you and my need of you, just as it has remained an undying flame through these past seven decades. I have seen what my life would be without you." The man swallowed and asked: "Will you have pity on this poor soul, Legolas, and find it in your pure elven heart to bond with me?"
For a few moments, Aragorn waited nervously for the answer; then his heart almost stopped when Legolas replied: "Nay, Aragorn."
Feeling suddenly weak, he almost sank to his knees again, but the elf tightened his hold on the man's hands and added: "Nay, not because I pity you, my noble Aragorn, for there is nothing to pity – but because I love you with all that is in me."
Aragorn's heart leapt again, and as he gazed at Legolas, he saw the very scene that had played before him in the palantir: the elf's eyes shiny with tears, the misty vapor behind the golden halo, the breathtakingly perfect smile in a perfect face. His spirits soared even before the elf spoke, for he knew now that the Stone did not lie – the unseen one standing before the elf in the vision was he himself – and now he knew what the answer would be:
"My heart is already yours… my Estel, my Aragorn... Yes, I will bond with you."
Speechless with joy for a moment, Aragorn reached into the pocket of his tunic and pulled out a small object that he held in the closed palm of his hand. He took Legolas' left hand in his and found his voice, saying in a sheepish tone that the elf found completely endearing:
"I could not find anything suitable in this land and time of war, my love, so – I had to… um… take this from Gimli's chain mail… but I will replace it with a proper one when we come into our own, when Gondor is ready to receive her king and consort."
Then the man produced between his fingers a simple ring of light metal removed from the many that made up the protective vest of the dwarf, and slipped it onto the fair slender finger of the elf prince: a reminder of the violent times in which this bond had been pledged; but to Legolas, it was one of the most beautiful gifts he had ever received, and the elf kissed Aragorn as if he had been presented with the biggest gem in Arda.
The simple circle of metal remained among the elf's treasures for the rest of his years with his soul-mate.
Aragorn could swear that the trees in the grove that day sighed in delight and swayed their branches in the joy of the troth between man and elf – reached after many decades of tears and loneliness and sacrifice, and the sweetness of the kiss they shared then went unrivalled for years after, for it was a kiss to mark the fulfillment of an impossible dream.
When they finally drew apart, Legolas kept his arms around the neck of his betrothed and gazed into the smiling eyes. "Aragorn…" he whispered.
"Yes, meleth?" the man whispered back tenderly.
"I have a question for you." The tone was almost teasing.
The man cocked his head in curiosity. "What is it, my darling?"
The elf grinned and asked: "Those things you brought here and dropped on the ground: what are they for?"
Aragorn's eyes widened before he threw his head back and laughed – a heartfelt, exultant laugh that echoed among the trees. He stepped back and retrieved the three items: he tucked his blanket under one arm, and held his soap and a container of salve in his large palm. He wrapped the other arm around the slim shoulders of his betrothed and whispered into the elven ear:
"We have unfinished business, my beautiful one. These items are meant to help us finish it, and there is a pool here where we can do just that."
The beautiful elf could only blush as the man led him hither.