Chapter Thirty-Five: An Eternal Promise
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Well, this is it. The last chapter of my story, Reasons to Hope, Reasons to Live.
I'm sorry for my sudden disappearance. I had a tendon inflammation and had to rest my hands as much as possible.
I hope you enjoy it. Please comment and tell me what you think.
This chapter was edited by Grammarly only. Please excuse my mistakes.
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"You are now joined as one for eternity," Gandalf declared, his voice carrying a calm yet powerful authority. "You may now seal your bond with a binding kiss."
Elladan and Carameril exchanged a glance, their radiant smiles reflecting the promise of the life they would build together. A moment later, their lips met in a tender kiss that spoke of deep love and shared adventure. Elrohir turned to Mallorn, his eyes soft with affection. They had faced many trials, yet here they stood—stronger than ever… together. Mallorn's gaze held a quiet joy as they leaned in, their kiss sealing their bond, years of devotion and trust culminating in this moment.
Around them, a wave of applause and cheers echoed through the gathering as family and friends celebrated the union of both couples. The air was filled with the scent of fresh flowers, and a gentle breeze stirred the banners fluttering above. The night's warmth seemed to mirror the happiness in the hearts of those present in the House of Elrond, celebrating the double wedding of Elrond's twin sons.
Legolas watched the scene with quiet pride, his heart swelling with happiness for his brother. Mallorn, who had once been so restless and independent, now stood beside Elrohir with peace and joy that Legolas had rarely seen in him. The way Mallorn had gazed at Elrohir, filled with genuine love, was undeniable. It gave Legolas a deep sense of comfort to know that his brother had found someone who truly understood and cherished him.
"May the stars shine upon your union, and may your hearts remain true through every age," Legolas said warmly, clasping Mallorn's arm after congratulating Elladan and Carameril.
Mallorn's usual teasing demeanour softened by the day's significance gave his brother a rare, sincere smile.
"Thank you, Legolas," he said. "I pray happiness forever dwells in your heart as well."
"I will ensure that," Aragorn interjected smoothly, circling his arms around Legolas' waist from behind. His voice was rich with promise, and the warmth in his grey eyes was unmistakable as he met his husband's gaze.
Legolas chuckled, leaning into the embrace.
"You sound so sure of yourself, Elessar."
"I am," Aragorn said without hesitation, pressing a light kiss to Legolas' temple.
Turning to Elrohir, Aragorn clasped his brother's shoulder.
"May the Valar bless your union, Elrohir," he said earnestly.
"Thank you, Aragorn," Elrohir replied, his face filled with quiet contentment.
"You've achieved the impossible, Elrohir. I never thought I would see the day Mallorn would settle in," Legolas smirked at Mallorn.
Mallorn scoffed playfully, but Elrohir merely smiled, squeezing his husband's hand.
"And I never thought I would see the day you stopped running from your own heart, Legolas," Elrohir countered smoothly.
Legolas blinked, a soft flush colouring his cheeks as Mallorn chuckled. Ever the opportunist, Aragorn tightened his hold on Legolas and whispered in his ear.
"It appears my brother knows you well, meleth nîn."
"I believe he underestimates how much I enjoy being caught," Legolas murmured, tilting his head slightly, his eyes glinting with mischief.
Aragorn's low laugh was lost in the sounds of celebration around them.
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As the festivities continued, Legolas stepped away to the balcony, seeking a moment of solitude amidst the celebration. The glow of lanterns illuminated the garden below, casting a warm, golden hue over the revelry. Laughter and music drifted from within the great halls of Rivendell, a rare night where duty and sorrow did not weigh upon his heart.
He closed his eyes, inhaling the crisp night air. For the first time in a long while, there were no battles to fight, no heavy judgments to bear. Only peace. And love.
Legolas had spent so much of his life fighting—for his people, for justice, for those who had no voice. But tonight, for the first time in a long while, he allowed himself to acknowledge what he had gained instead of what he had lost. He was not alone. He had Aragorn. He had his family. And, for once, no burdens to carry. The warmth of a familiar presence stirred him from his thoughts. Aragorn's arms slid around his waist from behind, his chin resting lightly on Legolas' shoulder.
"A rare sight," the King mused, his voice filled with quiet amusement. "The Prince Consort of Gondor lost in thought during a celebration?"
Legolas exhaled, a small smile curving his lips as he leaned into Aragorn's embrace.
"I was just thinking," he admitted, tilting his head slightly toward his husband. "For the first time in a long time, there are no battles to fight, no decisions to make. Just peace."
Aragorn turned him gently, brushing his fingers along Legolas' cheek before tilting his chin up slightly.
"And does that trouble you?" he teased.
Legolas let out a quiet laugh, his gaze softening.
"No," he whispered. "Not when I am by your side."
Aragorn smiled and pressed a lingering kiss against his husband's lips. When he pulled away, he rested his forehead lightly against Legolas', his eyes warm with devotion.
"On this day, my heart sings for our love—eternal as the stars, forever intertwined," His voice was a whisper meant only for Legolas to hear. "May our love endure like the eternal starlight of Valinor—steadfast, radiant, and ever true."
Legolas' breath caught, his eyes widening slightly.
"You remember what day today is?"
Aragorn chuckled softly, his fingers brushing over Legolas' hand.
"Of course," he murmured. "I could never forget the day my precious dream came true—marrying you."
"Ahem…" A throat cleared behind them.
They turned to see Galadriel standing at the balcony entrance; her ever-serene smile tinged with knowing amusement. Legolas stepped back slightly from Aragorn, a faint flush dusting his cheeks.
"Pardon my intrusion," she said, taking a few graceful steps forward. "Speaking of your wedding anniversary, I realized I have not given you a wedding gift. I am here to rectify this error."
"Your blessing is more than enough, my Lady," Aragorn said, straightening, his composure returning despite the momentary embarrassment.
"Perhaps," Galadriel replied, her smile widening, her gaze shimmering with something unreadable. "But there is one gift only I can offer you—one that I believe you both will treasure… if you accept it."
Aragorn and Legolas exchanged curious glances before turning their attention back to her.
"If you accept," Galadriel continued, her voice soft yet filled with the weight of ancient wisdom, "I can bind your lifespan to Legolas', allowing you both to share his immortality."
Legolas' breath hitched as he turned to Aragorn, their eyes locking in silent astonishment.
"Sharing my immortality?" he inquired.
"Yes," Galadriel confirmed with a gentle nod. "As long as you live, Aragorn will not age beyond his current years. He will be as immortal as you."
A heavy silence fell between them as they absorbed the enormity of the offer.
"And if one of us were to die by a blade?" Aragorn finally asked, his voice steady but carrying the weight of a thousand battles fought.
"Then the other will follow," Galadriel said softly. "Your fates would be intertwined in life and death alike."
Aragorn frowned slightly.
"If I accept this gift, will I be allowed to sail to Valinor?"
Galadriel's smile was warm but tinged with quiet sorrow as she slowly shook her head.
"Even though you would share Legolas's immortality, the Gift of Men would still run in your blood," she explained. "The Undying Lands are not meant for mortal souls, even if they do not fade."
A hush fell over them as the weight of her words settled.
Then, with all the love in his heart but none of the hesitation, Aragorn shook his head. "Then, with all due gratitude, my Lady," he said gently but firmly, "I must decline your gift."
Legolas turned to him in shock, his heart tightening at the words.
"What?" he whispered, his voice laced with disbelief. "Why? Aragorn, we could live together forever—we could—"
"Legolas," Aragorn interrupted softly, taking his hands in his own, and holding them between his warm palms. "Living by your side forever is the deepest desire of my heart, but I cannot risk your precious life like this. I cannot tie your fate to mine, endangering it with every battle I face, every sword raised against me, every treacherous dagger that might find my back." His thumb brushed over Legolas' fingers as he continued, his voice thick with emotion. "And if I were shielded from such fates, I could never tie you to Middle-earth forever, knowing that one day, you may wish to sail—to follow the call of the sea, to see Valinor with your own eyes, to be with Míreth once more."
Legolas' lips parted in silent protest, but the lump in his throat prevented the words from forming.
"I know the longing has already taken root in your heart," Aragorn continued gently. "And though you have chosen to stay with me now, I cannot take that choice from you forever. I love you too much to do that."
Tears glistened in Legolas' eyes, spilling down his cheeks as he shook his head.
"I don't want to face a world without you," he whispered, his voice breaking. "I have lost too many people I love. I cannot bear to lose you, too. I want to share every day with you—all of them."
Aragorn's smile was soft, tinged with sadness as he reached up and wiped the tears from Legolas' cheeks with his thumbs.
"And we will," he promised. "Every moment we share will be precious. Though our days together may seem short on the grand scale of time, they will be filled with meaning, love, happiness, and everything we have to give each other. I would not trade that for an eternity of empty years."
Legolas closed his eyes, pressing his forehead against Aragorn's as he let out shuddering breaths. He wanted to argue, to beg, but in his heart, he knew Aragorn was right.
Galadriel watched them with quiet warmth, her eyes filled with the wisdom of ages.
"You have chosen wisely, Elessar," she said. "With love far greater than any spell could bind."
With that, she departed.
"You're so cruel, Aragorn," Legolas murmured, his voice trembling with unshed tears.
"Then let me spend a lifetime making it up to you," Aragorn whispered before capturing his lips in another deep, tender kiss.
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Later that night, after the festivities had faded and the last of the guests had retired to their chambers, the halls of Rivendell were hushed. Bathed in the soft glow of moonlight streaming through the arched windows, a gentle breeze rustled the curtains, carrying the faint scent of the gardens beyond. Aragorn and Legolas retreated to their quiet sanctuary.
Legolas stood near the balcony, his hands resting lightly on the stone railing as he gazed at the night sky. His heart was full—of love, of sorrow, of the overwhelming emotions the day had brought. He had seen his brother wed, had felt the unshakable love that bound them, and had shared an intense moment with Aragorn, which left him shaken and grateful all at once.
But now, alone with Aragorn, the reality of everything settled into his chest. He sensed Aragorn before he felt him—the warmth of his presence, the quiet strength in his approach. Then, familiar hands slid around his waist, drawing him gently back against the firm expanse of Aragorn's chest.
"You're thinking again," Aragorn murmured, his voice low and filled with quiet amusement.
Legolas exhaled, leaning into the embrace.
"It's difficult not to."
Aragorn pressed a soft kiss against the curve of his shoulder.
"Would you rather talk about it, or would you rather forget everything for a little while?" His fingers traced slow, soothing circles over Legolas' hip.
Legolas closed his eyes.
"Forget," he whispered. "Can you make me?"
Aragorn turned him gently, cupping his face with both hands. He tilted Legolas' chin upward, meeting his gaze with eyes full of warmth and devotion.
"I will remind you of the only thing that matters," he murmured.
Legolas barely had time to catch his breath before Aragorn captured his lips in a slow, lingering kiss.
It was slow, reverent—more than just lips meeting. It was a promise, a reassurance, a tether that anchored Legolas to the present. There was no urgency, no desperation—only the deep, lingering certainty of love that had endured every trial, every loss, every impossible choice. Legolas sighed into the kiss, his hands sliding up Aragorn's chest before curling around his shoulders. The tension in his body melted under Aragorn's touch as he felt himself unravel, not in sadness but in the safety of knowing he was cherished beyond words.
Aragorn pulled away only slightly, his lips brushing against Legolas' cheek, then his jaw, then the sensitive hollow just beneath his ear.
"I love you," he murmured, his lips brushing against Legolas'. "More than time, more than the stars. If I had a thousand lifetimes, I would choose you in each one."
Legolas' throat tightened, and he clung to Aragorn as if grounding himself in his words.
"I don't know what I would do without you," he admitted, his voice barely audible. "After everything, after today... I don't want to think about a world without you in it."
Aragorn's grip on him tightened slightly.
"Then don't," he murmured. "Not tonight…not ever."
He kissed Legolas again, this time deeper, a quiet desperation beneath the tenderness. Legolas yielded to it, letting himself be consumed by the warmth and love that wrapped around him like a second skin. His hands threaded into Aragorn's hair as they stumbled back towards the bed, their movements unhurried yet deliberate, as if savouring each moment, each breath.
As the backs of Legolas' knees met the mattress, Aragorn guided him down, pressing slow, worshipful kisses along his collarbone. His fingers mapped out every familiar curve and line of his body. Legolas exhaled softly; his eyes half-lidded as he watched the man he loved cherish him in a way that no words could ever fully capture. It was not about passion alone—it was about trust. About devotion. About two souls intertwining, seeking solace in one another after a long road of suffering and sacrifice. Aragorn traced Legolas' face with the tips of his fingers, memorizing him in the dim light, and Legolas, in turn, touched him as if to remind himself that he was here—that he was real, that they both were. Time ceased to exist as they lost themselves in each other, in whispered words and quiet sighs, in the comfort of skin against skin. When exhaustion finally claimed them, Aragorn held Legolas close, his arms resting protectively around his waist. Legolas pressed his lips to Aragorn's bare skin as he rested his head on the man's shoulder.
"I love you," he whispered. "More than words could express…"
"So do I," Aragorn replied before sleepiness consumed them, promising a bright future ahead of them.
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A year later…
Aragorn let out a heavy sigh, crossing his arms as he paced the sitting chamber of his royal quarters, restless and impatient. It had beenhourssince Legolas went into labour, yet still, no sound had emerged from the adjoining room, and no one had come to reassure him.
Unlike Míreth's birth, Legolas had firmly refused Aragorn's presence in the birthing chamber this time. The King had grumbled aboutElvish pride, but his protests had been swiftly silenced when Éowyn and Lothíriel all but shoved him out of the room.
"This is a matter for midwives and women," Lothíriel said in her gentle yet firm voice.
"And you," Éowyn had added, "will only get in the way."
"I fought in battles; I can handle a birth!" Aragorn had argued. "Besides, I'm a healer myself."
"You panicked last week when Legolas had some abdominal pain during the night," Éowyn reminded. "and woke up the entire castle!"
Aragorn had opened his mouth to protest, but the two women had already shut the door in his face. Now, stuck outside, his nerves frayed with each passing moment.
Seated comfortably in one of the armchairs, Faramir and Éomer exchanged amused glances as they watched their usually composed friend descend into full-blown anxiety.
"You do realize that pacing will not hasten the process, my Lord?" Faramir, ever the patient one, remarked as he took a sip of wine. Éomer smirked, his arms folded, and leaned back in his chair.
"Perhaps if he glares at the door hard enough, it will open out of sheer intimidation," The King of Rohan jested.
Aragorn shot them both a dark look.
"Laugh while you can," he muttered. "One day, you'll be in my position."
"Indeed," Faramir said with a warm smile. "And when that day comes, I trust you will remind me of this moment."
"Iwillpersonally lock you in a room to see howyoulike it," Aragorn grumbled.
"By the gods, Aragorn," Éomer let out a hearty laugh, shaking his head. "I have never seen you this unnerved—not even when you faced down Sauron's armies. And yet, now, you tremble before a single Elf giving birth."
Aragorn clenched his jaw, stopping pacing and glaring at Rohan's King.
"Because Sauron didn't shut me out of the battlefield and tell me to wait!"
"Patience, my friend," Éomer said. "My wife and sister are aiding the midwife, and Legolas is stronger than all of us combined. He's not likely to let childbirth best him.
Aragorn exhaled, running a hand through his hair. He knew they were right, but knowing it andfeelingit were two different things.
Just then, the door finally creaked open, and Éowyn stepped out, looking calm as ever.
Aragorn rushed forward before she could even speak.
"Is he well? The baby?"
Éowyn raised a brow, clearly enjoying his desperation.
"Legolas is fine," she said at last. "And your son has arrived."
Aragorn felt his knees weaken slightly.
"Ason?" he whispered, his breath hitching.
"Yes," Éowyn confirmed, smiling now. "A strong, healthy boy. You may go in."
She had not finished speaking before Aragorn had pushed past her, his heart pounding as he entered the softly lit chamber.
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Legolas lay cradling a small bundle wrapped in soft white linens. His golden hair was damp with sweat, yet he was radiant. His face was alight with the serenity of a warrior who had fought a hard battle and emerged victorious. He looked up as Aragorn approached, his blue eyes filled with quiet joy.
"Come meet our son, meleth nîn," Legolas whispered, his voice filled with quiet awe.
Aragorn moved forward, his hands trembling slightly as he knelt beside the bed. Legolas carefully shifted, revealing the tiny face of the infant nestled against his chest. The baby's skin was fair, his features delicate yet undeniably strong. A dusting of dark hair rested atop his head—Aragorn'shair—but when his small eyes fluttered open, they were his other father's deep, endless blue.
"Eladrion," Aragorn whispered, reverence and wonder lacing his voice.
Legolas smiled.
"Yes," he said softly. "Eladrion."
Aragorn leaned down, gently kissing his son's forehead, then another to Legolas' temple. He closed his eyes, overwhelmed with gratitude, love, and a fierce sense of protection. The trials they had endured, the pain and losses—they had led to this moment. To their son. To their family.
"You were incredible," Aragorn whispered, his fingers tracing reverently along his husband's cheek. "Thank you."
Legolas sighed, exhausted but content.
"You are not so bad yourself,hervenn nîn."
Aragorn let out a small laugh, resting his forehead against Legolas'.
"I love you."
"And I, you," Legolas murmured. "Always."
As their newborn son nestled between them, Aragorn knew that no matter what lay ahead, their love—their family—would endure, like the stars, like the sea, like all things meant to last beyond time.
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The End….?
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Well...
I started this story in 2004, and now it is finally over. Please tell me what you think.
I'm considering writing a sequel, but it may not happen soon. I have other stories to finish.
I hope you enjoyed reading my story.
Thank you