Aragorn was about to leave Imladris, out into the grey wilderness and a cold autumn evening, when Legolas came to him. The peaks of the Hithaeglir were still glowing above, white, purple and gold into the clear blue sky, but in the valley it was dark already, and Legolas stepped from the shadows without a sound, his soft shoes light upon the ground, his green and brown travelling clothes melting out of the colourless evening. Aragorn was somewhat surprised when Legolas so suddenly proposed to go with him, but the elf was a fine companion, and he was too pleased to refuse. The matter was settled in an moment.
They set out into the wild, walking side by side as they had once or twice before, though never alone. They shared their meals and they slept back to back. Aragorn did relish the presence of the elf, the greater safety it offered, his pragmatic mind and his steadfastness. And yet – although Aragorn did not know Legolas very well – it seemed to him that the elf was less easily cheerful than was his wont, and more thoughtful. Often, too, he perceived that his elven eyes were on him, keen and pensive; and yet when he turned to meet his gaze he found him to be distant, impassive, and staring, as it seemed, at some far-away point beyond him.
Together they passed the autumn in solitary wanderings, crossing but twice or thrice the path of other such travellers – Dùnedain like himself, or Mithrandir – who walked in Eriador. Then, on some errand, it was decided that they must pass the Hithaeglir and go into Lothlorien, and thence into the eastern wilderness. So they went East, to meet with winter.
The road that went over the mountains was harsh and biting cold. When they settled down to camp they sat close together beneath one blanket to share warmth. The snow fell fast upon them, mesmerizing, blurring time and their journeys into uniform, blank whiteness; save that one moment, that remained icicle-sharp in Aragorn's memory – when Legolas, without warning, turned his head and set his lips firmly upon his.
For a moment or two he was too astonished to respond in any way. His lips parted, but not by his own volition. Legolas's cool hand found its way to the nape of his neck and held it firmly, slender fingers snaking into his hair, pressing him close so that the elf could kiss him more deeply.
Then he recoiled, pushing back against the grip that held him there. 'No,' he murmured, and then louder, 'no,' for Legolas would not let go. 'It is another -' but his words were smothered as Legolas silently kissed him again, slender, steely arms catching him in an embrace, and then withdrew to caress the side of his head, gripping him hard by the hair, whispering 'Forget her,' even as Aragorn said again, 'It is another whom I love.' But still Legolas kissed him, more softly now and with an air of despair, murmuring 'Forget her, forget her' between each kiss.
But it was already over. Aragorn pushed him away, and he did not try any more. Aragorn looked away for some minutes of uncomfortable silence. When he turned back to gaze at Legolas the elf was staring intently at some distant point, his pale, fair face as unreadable as the snow. They did not mention the incident for the rest of their journey.
Then they came to Lothlorien, where Galadriel welcomed them well, giving them shelter and good food. He was weary, and slept almost as soon as they were given a place to rest. When he woke he saw that white, princely clothes were lying at the foot of his bed, and he donned them. Yet Legolas was not here any more. He went looking for him, hesitantly.
He found him near the border of Lothlorien, ready to leave again. Yet upon seeing him Legolas smiled faintly, and for a while they walked together in silence upon the green grass of Lorien. Then Aragorn asked, a little abruptly perhaps but not unkindly, 'do you love me then ?' Legolas did not answer at once, and they walked a little further. 'That, I think,' he eventually answered, 'is for you to decide,' and he gave to Aragorn a strange sort of smile, half-amused and a little sorrowful.
Aragorn gazed into his eyes, and they went back to the border, each lost in thought. As Legolas truly prepared to leave, he said: 'I do not think that you do love me. Yet I think you love, and cannot know whom it is you love, and why you did what you did.' Again Legolas smiled his sad, amused smile (amused at Aragorn's blindness, or at his very own foolishness in love ?) and left, and disappeared between the silver trees of Lothlorien. Aragorn was left to wonder.
But then he went to Cerin Amroth, and as he neared the foot of the hill he saw that a maiden was sitting with her back to him upon the green, bright, fragrant grass, and that in the flower-soft wind her dark hair was blown about her head and caressed her white shoulders, and as he stepped into the light and towards her, all thoughts of Legolas were forgotten.