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It was two weeks after the incident in the Barrow-Downs that Aragorn and Legolas made their way to Rivendell. Even Aragorn had to admit that their search for Gollum was becoming futile, but for the sake of Gandalf's request they kept pursuing the evasive creature. While this dilemma played a part in nagging Aragorn's mind, it was diminutive in comparison to the stress his non-platonic feelings for Legolas gave him. In the past couple of weeks no feelings had been voiced, thus, there had been no awkwardness – permitting Aragorn to believe that Legolas remained unaware of the Man's infatuation with him. But, if anything, the kiss Aragorn had laid upon the Elf's head, when being hunted by a Barrow-Wight, had acted as some indication of this. Yet the Prince treated Aragorn no differently. Well, actually, there was a change in their relationship – they had taken to holding hands as they walked and searched the Weather Hills. Aragorn watched Legolas walking in front of him as they made their way across the grassy plains, while reminiscing about how this new development began. Of course Legolas had first held his hand in the Barrow-Downs, but that had been more out of fear than anything else. The next day in the Old Forest, Legolas had begun to relate an ancient tale of how the Onodrim had been taught to speak by Elves, and in doing so, had inched closer to the Ranger till their arms were brushing. Still talking animatedly, allowing their hands to make contact, Legolas entwined his fingers around Aragorn's. Despite how surprising this act was, Aragorn managed to remain calm and allowed his thumb to trace patterns on the back of the Elf's soft hand. He felt saner as he was closer to believing that Legolas did, in fact, return his feelings. Aragorn felt light-headed as he thought of this; looking at the Elf, Aragorn barely acknowledged his breath leaving him as he witnessed the dying rays of the sun light up Legolas' golden hair, rendering his beauty even more astounding – if that were even possible.

"I think we must stop at the next inn we see, Aragorn," said Legolas, turning his head towards the Ranger, expecting to be contradicted.

However, Aragorn nodded, "I agree." While at the same time he tried to regain his composure, he didn't want Legolas to realise Aragorn had been gaping at him like a fool. Hence, Aragorn did the only thing that crossed his mind; he walked up to the young Prince and laced his fingers with his. Legolas didn't even look affected; a smile simply flitted across his lips as his fingers played gently with those of the Ranger's. Aragorn's body burned with desire – it was so strong he couldn't believe that he was alone in creating it. Legolas' fingertips drew lines of fire on his palms. He licked his lips wishing not to convey what he felt – but they were holding hands, what else could it mean? he thought frustrated.

It was two hours later that saw them at the White Horse Tavern. Aragorn conversed briefly with the innkeeper before acquiring them a key to one of the rooms. He trudged up the stairs with Legolas at his heels – reaching the room door, he unlocked it. He felt an unusual mix of relief and disappointment upon seeing two separate beds in the room. Guarding his expression he looked over at Legolas who had sunk into one of the beds.

"Ah, what a sweet relief this is, mellon-nin." Legolas sighed contentedly.

Aragorn smiled, "It would be unwise to get too accustomed to it, Greenleaf, we shall be back to hunting that wretched creature within a day or two,"

"Since when did you refer to me as Greenleaf?" Legolas scowled playfully.

Aragorn laughed as he took in the Elf's annoyed expression which was just as attractive as anything else about him. "Rest, I wish to go down and indulge in a little whiskey."

"Well, allow me to join you," said Legolas sitting up.

"I believe you should rest, mellon-nin, and also I was unaware that you drink,"

"I am not a child, Aragorn; I think I have already see a good 300 years more than you have."

"Forgive me," said Aragorn mock-humbly "If I, in any way, behaved condescending towards you, mellon-nin."

"It is already forgotten, now let us go drink," grinned Legolas.

An hour later, Aragorn and Legolas sat at a wooden table surrounded by a sea of empty bottles and glasses. Aragorn tried as much as he could to control his vision which was causing him to see double of everything. Of course he didn't mind much when he saw double of Legolas, but then again there was that nagging worry that his eyes probably didn't look very attractive when he gave them the will to do as they wish. Legolas wasn't much better; his face was bright shade of pink and he was singing a song which appeared to be missing a plethora of its lyrics. Gathering up all his self-control, Aragorn pulled himself out of his chair.

"Come, Legolas. The night is growing old; we must retire to our room."

"Yess, we must," giggled Legolas as Aragorn helped drag him to his feet.

The journey to their room, which under normal circumstances was probably five minutes long, was now somewhere taking close to half an hour. Finally, after two failed attempts Aragorn managed to fit the key into its hole. By this time Legolas was experiencing hysterical bouts of laughter.

"Hush, Legolas" whispered Aragorn quickly ushering the Elf inside the room, "We are not the only guests here," However Legolas was not listening, he was hiding behind the curtains, the Ranger could hear the sounds of many bolts being drawn and accompanied by vicious snickers. "What mischief are you getting yourself into now?"

"Come here, Aragorn!" rang out Legolas' excited voice. Aragorn followed the direction from which the voice came, pushing aside the curtain he found himself out on a balcony and face to face with the most beautiful view he had seen in many years. He sucked in his breath and walked towards the other end and absorbed what he saw. The balcony itself appeared to be made out of white stone, and it was shrouded by thick ivy – what made it all the more beautiful was the sky above and the light that emanated from the large moon. And beyond were the mountains of the Weather Hills. He was sure the Watch-Tower of Amon Sûl could be seen from here, but he was in no state to find it.

"It's stunning, isn't it?" said a small voice behind him.

"Indeed it is," Aragorn replied turning around to face Legolas. If the sunlight made Legolas look beautiful. There were no sufficient words to describe what the moonlight did to him. Or perhaps it was the alcohol. Aragorn wasn't sure, he was still heavily inebriated. He leaned his back against the wall and stared into Legolas' sapphire eyes that gazed intently back into his own. He reached out until he found the Elf's soft hands, it didn't feel awkward – it was now a reassurance, a feeling of comfort. Legolas began to move closer to him, immediately Aragorn's heartbeat speeded up, he lowered his head. Legolas released Aragorn's hands and placed his own on the Man's waist. The Elf stared back into his eyes; Aragorn could feel desire burning within him like the fires of Mount Doom.
Legolas licked his lips tentatively and whispered one word in a strangled voice, "Aragorn" and then his lips were against the Man's, kissing them intensely. There was a strong sense of urgency and passion. Aragorn's hands found themselves placed on either side of the Elf's beautiful face, while Legolas' hands dragged Aragorn's waist toward his so that their bodies were crushed together.

Almost immediately as it started, it ended. Legolas pulled away, his breathing ragged, "I'm sorry," he choked out before walking away. Aragorn watched him leave the balcony, and sank to the floor. Resting his head in his arms, he never knew it was possible to feel so much in one little moment.