The War of Light and Shadow

By Freddie23

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Disclaimer: I own nothing Tolkien created.

A/N: Thanks to everyone who has reviewed so far. Please keep them coming. I love hearing from you all. Let me know people are still reading this.

Enjoy the chapter, readers!

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Chapter 15 – All The Remains Hidden

Silence, deep and final, fell as Legolas' final soft words trailed away, lost in the night even as the wisps of memory and sadness lingered about him. Aragorn's eyes remained fixed on the Elf's face, seemingly ever-changing in the light of the flickering candle. He had to admit that he was surprised by the story, shocked by how thoroughly Legolas' home had been destroyed by the armies of Shadow. No probing questions popped into his head as they usually did, clamouring to get out and find answers. And the silence continued for a long time - until Legolas finally broke it himself.

Tormented blue eyes were slowly raised from where they had stared blankly at the table for long minutes to instead meet Aragorn's sympathetic grey ones and he softly confessed, "So I ran away."

Shaking his head at the almost broken admission from his clearly pained guardian, Aragorn whispered, "I am sorry," not knowing quite what else to say.

Legolas smiled softly at this. "It is not your fault. I am to blame, no other." With a calmness that made Aragorn have to work to conceal a shudder, Legolas continued, "Coward that I was, I took the easy way out. I ran away. I left all my friends behind tied to their fates and fled my homeland."

"You are not a coward," Aragorn stressed with fierce conviction, leaning forward over the table for emphasis, one hand reaching out to almost touch the strong hands of his mentor, which were laid flat against the wood as if bracing the Elf where he sat.

"Thank you, Aragorn, but such words mean so little now. What happened will forever be. Now all I can do is try to redeem myself for my cowardice."

Rocking back on his chair thoughtfully, Aragorn asked after a moment, "Is that what I am to you – redemption?"

"I suppose so. I swore to your father that I would raise you, protect you from all evils, prepare you for the task ahead of you and I will honour that promise no matter what."

"You have not failed me so far," Aragorn smiled softly in reassurance, praying that it would at least be of some small comfort to the one he trusted above all.

Returning the smile, although with perhaps less conviction, Legolas argued softly, "Yes I have. But there is time yet to correct that."

"You don't need to do anything more," the young man protested immediately.

Legolas just smiled again and even though he didn't argue further, Aragorn could tell that the Elf was still not convinced.

"Do you think you'll ever go back there?" Aragorn asked softly after a while.

"To Mirkwood? No," Legolas shook his head with conviction that he had so far lacked during this conversation. "No, I don't think so."

"Why not?"

"My family and friends perished in that forest whilst I ran and thus escaped a similar fate. I don't think I could ever face standing on that site again, being judged so harshly for my sins." Legolas looked into expressive grey eyes, a lump forming in his throat at the compassion that burned so blatantly in them. He did not desire sympathy from any being but the simple knowledge that after all those years after the fall of Mirkwood spent in cruel, self-inflicted isolation that someone cared enough to feel something for his misfortunes meant more to him than he would ever have thought possible. "Besides," he added, clearing his throat in order to keep his voice steady, "I have no reason to return."

"Maybe someday you will have cause," Aragorn suggested hopefully with a shrug. And despite Legolas' apparent confidence that he never would set foot on the soil of his home land again, Aragorn could feel the longing to do just that practically radiating from his guardian. "Maybe you'll change your mind."

"Maybe," Legolas smiled, clearly lying to appease his ward.

For a while longer they sat in deep silence, which for once proved not to be uncomfortable. Legolas found himself lost in memory and Aragorn was mulling over the story he had just been told.

Once more, it was Legolas who uncharacteristically broke the quiet by saying, "It is getting late; you should get some sleep."

"So should you. I can take the first watch if you like." His guardian seemed weary, wearier than Aragorn had seen him look in a long time. The retelling of his past horrors seemed to have drained him, dulling even his eyes in the brightness of the candlelight.

"Thank you, but there is no danger in Lothlorien anymore. No need to take watches tonight."

"If you're sure."

Legolas nodded certainly – sure that his knowledge of this world at least was sound - and climbed stiffly up to his feet, feeling very much as if he had been sitting there for days rather than just minutes. "You can sleep in the bed – it's a little dusty but it'll be comfortable than the floor. I'll take the couch."

"I've never slept in a real bed before. The best I ever got with the Rangers was a straw mattress."

"At long last I'm one up on the Rangers," Legolas quipped dryly.

"What if I fall off during the night?" Aragorn asked uncertainly as he too got up from the table.

Chuckling quietly at the thought, Legolas answered, "Then at least you will provide me with some small amount of amusement this night."

"That is not funny," Aragorn told him sternly, going towards the bedroom door with a scowl etched on his features.

"Sleep well, Aragorn."

"Goodnight."

Once Aragorn had retreated into the bedroom and the door was closed between, Legolas moved with weary slowness to perch himself on the edge of the dusty table and ran a trembling hand over his eyes at the same time releasing the shaky breath that had been building in his chest ever since he had made the foolishly impulsive decision to tell his charge about his dark, painful past.

On the one hand, it was strangely liberating to know that it was all out in the open at long last, that he had vocalised at least a portion of that which had changed his life so terribly, but on the other it had been the most difficult thing he'd had to do since taking that path leading far away from an Orc-infested Mirkwood.

He was more certain than ever now that Aragorn, even if he could not fully appreciate the bitter intricacies of the carefully censored tale he had been told, would not blame him for his cowardly actions thirty years ago. The boy would remain at the side of his mentor regardless.

After Legolas had been forced to flee his home, the world in which he had found himself all alone and completely friendless had turned dark and inhospitable. Everything he had owned, everything he'd ever known, had been lost.

But that would not happen again. No longer did he wander up and down the same stretch of road all on his own. No longer was he isolated, lost without a purpose and without hope.

As it had so often in the past six years, the prospect of having Aragorn by his side, as much as the stubborn, masochistic part of his mind hated to admit it, comforted Legolas immensely. Despite his endlessly annoying questions and unpredictable mood changes, compared to every other thing in the Elf's chaotic life, Aragorn remained reassuringly steadying. To have something he could rely on was what kept Legolas going.

Straightening out, Legolas scoffed at himself. He could hardly believe he was thinking of Aragorn in this charitable way. Usually he longed to shut the boy up or to get away from him and divest himself of the mound of responsibility that came along with the future king.

Worn out from the long day of thoroughly unsettling discoveries, both physical and emotional, Legolas got wearily to his feet and blew out the nearly burnt-out candle, plunging the room into darkness. Waste was no to be abided in this world of scarce resources and few comforts, not even when one desired the light of the flames to chase away the demons ever tormenting.

Before retiring for the night to the relative comfort of the dusty sofa though, Legolas went into the bathroom, pushed the stiff door partially closed for privacy and started to slowly undress. His old, ripped clothes were stiff, caked in weeks of mud and filth, and even though he never liked the feeling of being so exposed, unable to run at a moment's notice, the sensation of being free from the reeking, restricting clothing was relieving enough for him to breathe a sigh.

The water that Aragorn had used earlier to cleanse himself was stone cold by now and murky with the months of accumulated dirt the boy had washed off himself but Legolas didn't bother to refresh it. He washed off his body with rapid, none too gentle movements, pleased for the darkness of the bathroom so that he would not have to see the wasted muscles that now made up his once toned-to-warrior-perfection body. As he finished rinsing off the remainder of the soap he'd doused himself in, another familiar pang of pain shot up through his stomach and he leant forward, bracing himself against the cracked basin for support.

"Legolas," a timid voice called out to him and Legolas' head snapped up in shock to find Aragorn stood in the doorway, partially obscured in the dark but watching nonetheless.

Realising that he didn't have a scrap of clothing on, Legolas made a dive for the damp towel the boy had left behind but misjudged the movement and instead tripped over the clothes he'd carelessly dropped on the floor after undressing. Grabbing a nearby shelf in an effort to keep himself upright, and in the process knocking several bottles of scented liquids over to smash on the floor, Legolas heard the boy rush forward to help.

"I'll get it for you," Aragorn offered quickly, picking up the towel off the edge of the bath where Legolas had hung it earlier. "Here." He handed the threadbare towel to Legolas, who took it with some reluctance then quickly wrapped it around himself, even though his modesty had already been rendered moot. "Are you alright?"

"I told you to go to bed," Legolas snapped angrily, turning his head slightly in the direction of the boy still stood close to him.

"I had to use the bathroom again. I didn't know if I should go outside or not. I didn't mean to disturb you."

"Well, you did," the Elf shouted at him, unrestrained for once.

"I'm sorry." Aragorn looked down from the Elf's face, for some reason embarrassed by Legolas' icy blue stare now fixed witheringly upon him. "Should I go outside, then?" he asked quietly, still uncertain.

"No. Just give me a moment. Don't go wandering off on your own."

"Alright." The boy backed out of the room, closing the door behind him, glad to be away from the uncomfortable situation he had inadvertently walked in on.

Once he heard the door click closed behind the boy, Legolas slumped again. Anger overwhelmed him but with no greater outlet available at present, he settled for slamming his fist into the sink to expel his fury at the humiliating interruption. The pain of the action stunned him briefly but he didn't dwell on it after he'd flexed his fingers to ensure he'd done no damage. Instead, he picked up his clothes and quickly dressed himself, not even bothering to dry himself off.

"Legolas?" Aragorn's voice called from the other side of the door.

"One more minute."

Aragorn leaned back against the wall with a sigh. He didn't know what to make of all this. One minute, Legolas was coming clean to him about every detail from his troubled past and the next he was being shut out entirely. It was all dreadfully confusing and frustration stirred in his heart. He'd thought that maybe tonight might have proved a turning point between them, that maybe now Legolas would trust him more. Clearly he was wrong.

He didn't get a chance to ponder on it any further as the door opened to reveal Legolas, hair dripping wet and wearing his old, filthy clothes – shirt and trousers – but still with nothing on his feet.

"Legolas, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to…" the boy started, pushing himself away from the wall to approach his guardian.

"Go to the bathroom then go to bed," Legolas told him sharply, moving past the boy into the next room without sparing him a second glance. "Mind the broken glass."

"Can't I at least apologise without you cutting me off?"

"We can talk in the morning."

Sighing heavily at the realisation that he wasn't going to get any further with his guardian that night, Aragorn moved into the bathroom to take care of his needs. When he returned, he squinted through the darkness to find Legolas sat hunched forward on the sofa.

Tentatively, Aragorn called out to him, "Goodnight." He heard the sofa creak slightly, the fabric rustle in the quiet as Legolas shifted his position but the Elf made no attempt to reply so Aragorn didn't bother to push further. "See you in the morning."

"Aragorn, come here," an unsteady voice suddenly called, making Aragorn turn quickly towards him.

"Why?"

A beat followed, then, "Just come."

As Aragorn slowly approached, he saw Legolas' pale hand stretched out almost imploringly toward him. When he got close enough, Legolas laid the hand on Aragorn's back and guided him to sit close by his side on the dipping seat of the couch.

"I'm sorry," the Elf started quietly.

"No, I shouldn't have barged in on you like that. You deserve some privacy too."

Legolas chuckled softly and laid his arm around Aragorn's shoulders. "Sometimes, I admit, I still forget that I am no longer on my own," he said softly. "I am sorry for that."

"You don't have to be sorry," the boy answered in an equally quiet voice, resting his head against Legolas' shoulder in an unusual display of closeness, which the Elf not only allowed but surprisingly encouraged. "You must miss your family, miss having them near."

"Yes."

"Did…Did they get out of Mirkwood before…?"

"No. My father was my only living family in the final days and he…he died in battle."

"Was he a warrior too?"

Legolas nodded with a gentle smile on his face. "One of the greatest. He was brave and strong and he fought until the end."

"Just like you," Aragorn said, seemingly half asleep. He was tried and warm and so very comfortable resting against his guardian, protected in the bubble of safety that Legolas had always provided.

"No." Legolas shook his head thoughtfully. "I got out."

The words fell upon silence though, as Aragorn had already fallen asleep against him and he was truly glad for it, because tears were now falling sparingly from the Elf's tired eyes and he didn't want to be seen like this by the child he had raised to think of him as strong.

For a long while, Legolas sat silent and still, allowing the memories to wash over him again as he listened to the comforting sound of Aragorn snoring quietly at his side. Eventually though, Legolas snapped out of his reverie and looked down at his young charge. The boy remained sound asleep and Legolas was reluctant to disturb him when he was so peaceful, so he carefully lifted him into his arms, worried by just how difficult the simple action was for him, then carried him into the bedroom where he laid him on the bed and covered him in a blanket.

"Sleep well, child."

Now that he was well and truly alone, Legolas laid down wearily on the couch, dragging a blanket to cover himself even though it was really too warm to be necessary. Staring up at the dark ceiling, Legolas tried to lull himself into sleep but the pangs in his empty stomach had returned, bringing with them the feeling of nausea and discomfort and memories continued to run through his mind and he knew already that he would get little rest this night. Rolling over onto his side and wrapping his arms securely around his middle, Legolas closed his eyes and prayed morning would come quickly.

OIOI

Aragorn woke to darkness and for a fleeting moment he panicked, remembering where he was sleeping that particular night. The thought of resting upon a raised platform had not meant for the most peaceful night's sleep and now he had woken he had to grab at the posts on either side of the bed to make certain to himself that he wasn't going to fall the couple of feet to the floor.

Once Aragorn had assured himself that he wasn't going to go crashing painfully to the ground, he looked around himself a little more calmly only to discover that the rather embarrassing reason it was so dark was that he was buried beneath his blanket. Throwing it off himself in near disgust at his foolishness and immensely glad that Legolas had not been there to witness his moment of wholly unnecessary panic, the boy found that it was actually daylight again and that dull grey sunlight filtered through the gaps in the boarded-up windows, illuminating the room he'd stayed in that night.

Climbing gratefully off the bed with the fervent hope that he wouldn't have to endure another night of restlessly fearing for his safety, Aragorn padded barefoot across the dusty wooden floor towards the door, not wanting to disturb Legolas if he was still asleep in the next room. When he opened the door a crack though, he found Legolas already up and moving around, stuffing the essentials he'd collected the evening before into one of their bags, which lay wide open on the table.

"You're up early," Aragorn said when it appeared that Legolas had not yet noticed his presence.

"Actually," Legolas smiled over at him, "you're up late. It's mid-afternoon already."

"Oh. You let me sleep in." A rarity in itself as Legolas liked to be up at the crack of dawn and ensured his ward was up at the same time too.

"Yes."

Back to one-word answers, Aragorn thought dryly. So much for trust. Going to the table and running his fingers in abstract patterns through the thick layer of dust, broken now in places after their conversation the night before, the young man asked tentatively, "Are you alright?"

"Of course. Why would I be anything but?" Legolas asked, not even slowing in his actions.

"I mean, after last night."

Pausing at the table, Legolas met Aragorn's concerned gaze and smiled gently at it. "Yes, Aragorn; I am fine, thank you." He clapped the boy on the shoulder then said, "Help me pack some of this up."

Aragorn nodded and started transferring clothes and food from the table into their packs. For a moment they worked in near-companionable silence but Aragorn was quick to break it.

"I am sorry," the boy told his guardian softly.

"For what? Surely you haven't gotten into trouble going from the door to the table," Legolas chuckled in return.

"No, I just meant, I'm sorry for everything. Everything that happened to you…before…"

"It is not your fault."

Exasperated, Aragorn sighed, "You know what I mean."

"I do," Legolas smiled gently, sincerely, still amazed at the compassion the boy who already carried so much weight on his shoulders displayed so freely towards him in spite of all his weaknesses revealed. "And thank you, Aragorn, for your concern and…well…" Legolas cleared his throat uncomfortably, trying to come out with those words so difficult to speak to his ward. "Thank you for listening. I have never told another of…of those final days in my home."

"My father always told me: 'A problem shared is a problem halved,'" the young man stated with a certain amount of pride.

"A wise man, your father."

"He was," Aragorn mused. "He was right about so many things."

Legolas stepped forward and laid his hand gently on the man's arm. "He would have been very proud, Aragorn."

"I hope so." A thick silence followed as both boy and Elf became lost in thought for a moment. As ever, it was Aragorn who got bored with it first and broke the quiet. "So, uh, what do we do now? Do we keep searching Lothlorien? Maybe Galadriel remains nearby but out of the city."

"I don't think so. We need to move on."

"To where?"

Continuing to neatly pack their bags, Legolas confessed, "I am not sure yet. We'll work something out, but in the meantime we should keep moving."

"We could wait another day if you wanted though," Aragorn posed the possibility hesitantly. "If you didn't feel like moving on immediately, I mean."

"Why would I want to stay another day?" Legolas asked with a chuckle, seeming not to see the obvious as Aragorn did.

"I thought you might want to take a couple of days to rest."

Halting again in his actions, Legolas smiled kindly and, much to Aragorn's intense surprise, pulled him into a loose hug, patting his back in what Aragorn thought the Elf probably considered to be a parental gesture, perhaps not realising how unbelievably awkward it felt. Aragorn stood somewhat self-consciously in the clumsy embrace, not quite knowing how to react to it. For all their closeness recently, Legolas had never willingly initiated such close contact between them. When he'd been younger, Aragorn had often taken refuge in Legolas' arms and he'd always felt protected there, but he'd never once been pulled into a proper hug by the Elf.

"You are a good boy, Aragorn," Legolas whispered praise in the young man's ear.

"Uh, thank you," Aragorn replied uncertainly, barely managing to force a smile onto his face.

After another uncomfortable moment for the human teenager, Legolas pulled away from him with a small smile of encouragement, as if thanking him for his patience and gripped his arms tightly, staring into uncertain grey eyes.

"I appreciate your concern for my well-being, Aragorn, but I do not need to sit around this place mulling over the past. It is best that we keep travelling."

"But you said that it was safe here."

"I believe it is but I'm not taking any unnecessary risks. Besides, there's nothing more we can do here."

"Alright. I'll get my shoes on then we can go whenever you're ready."

"Good," Legolas nodded firmly, finally widening the gap between them. At being what he considered to be a proper distance from his companion, Aragorn felt a little guilty for being so relieved to be parted from the Elf. He liked his guardian, liked that Legolas now trusted him enough to at least partially confide in him, and yet sometimes the Elf was just too intense for ease, especially in light of what he had just learned about his troubled mentor.

"On our way out of the city we'll go around some of the houses again, see if we can pick anything else up that might be of use to us."

"Legolas?"

"Yes?" the Elf sighed heavily; at last, it seemed having reverted back to his old self. Once again, he was annoyed by the prospect of a flurry of questions from the boy under his charge.

With a smile, Aragorn moved towards the bedroom door. "Nothing. I'll ask you later."

"I'll look forward to it," the Elf deadpanned under his breath.

To Be Continued…