~Part Fifteen: Little Things~

Caras Gwedeir, May 15th, F.A. 13.

Legolas:

What they did after Aragorn’s punishment had ended, was pretty innocent and remained restricted to gentle massages, caresses and soft conversation. Legolas felt blissful as he contently slid his arms around the Elf he loved so much. Haldir sighed and rolled into his embrace.

It was almost three o’ clock. Aragorn lay on his back, apparently asleep.

“That,” Legolas murmured, “was a very good idea of yours, Haldir.”

Haldir smiled. He took Legolas’s chin between his fingers and kissed him gently. “I will leave the two of you alone now,” he said.

Legolas frowned. “What…”

Haldir slipped out of bed, waving away Legolas’s protests. He quickly got dressed and then sat down on the edge of the bed.

“Haldir,” Legolas said, shaking his head, “you don’t have to go.”

“You both deserve it,” Haldir said gently, a little smile on his lips. “It was just the two of you in Lórien, it should be the two of you until the sun comes up. You still have some time.”

Legolas felt tears well up in his eyes. “Gods, Haldir…” he whispered. “You really don’t have to do this. I am content.”

Haldir’s smile never wavered. “You can be even more content,” he said. He nodded at Aragorn. “And he can, too. His punishment is over, but I think more is needed to complete the circle. Give in to it.”

Legolas bit his lip and felt a tear slide down his cheek. Haldir leaned forward and kissed it away. “Come,” he said soothingly, taking Legolas’s chin in the cup of his fingers, “don’t feel guilty, my greenleaf. I trust you. I love you. It’s all right.”

“After tonight, it will be just us, Haldir,” Legolas whispered, “just us.”

“For ever and ever.” Haldir caressed Legolas’s face with his fingertips. “Forget me for the remainder of the night. But remember me in the morning.”

Legolas nodded and felt more tears. “I love you, you idiot,” he said.

Haldir kissed him, then got up. His hand slid out of Legolas’s as he removed himself from the bed, and Legolas watched him go, love flooding his heart. Haldir then closed the door behind him and was gone. Legolas wiped the tears from his face and sat still for a moment. Then he crawled over to Aragorn and studied the sleeping Man’s peaceful features. He smiled to himself. Poor Aragorn. During the execution of Aragorn’s punishment, Legolas had felt for the Man on several occasions, but in the end, the Man had had nothing to regret. Their lovemaking had been intense. Of a somewhat different nature than Legolas had always imagined it to be – he smiled again –, but none the less enjoyable. Legolas stroked the sleeping Man softly. Aragorn really had to wake up now. He brought a finger to the Man’s lips and softly touched the pale scar on Aragorn’s upper lip. He knew that Aragorn found himself ugly with all his flaws, but Legolas loved him for it.

He looked at Aragorn’s closed eyelids – a human oddity, but he loved that, too. He then bent down and kissed Aragorn softly on the mouth. “Wake up, Aragorn,” he murmured against the Man’s lips.

Aragorn sighed, stirred, and then slowly opened his eyes. He smiled when he saw Legolas face, then looked around him, searching for the other Elf. “Where is Haldir?” he asked, his voice low and husky with sleepiness.

“He left,” Legolas said. “It’s just you and me until the sun rises.”

Aragorn gaped at him, not believing his ears. “He left? But… but…”

“I know,” Legolas said. “He trusts me, Aragorn. And he trusts you.”

Aragorn shook his head slowly. “But I can’t possibly…”

“I’m afraid we have to,” Legolas smiled, “or Haldir will scold us in the morning. But honestly, Aragorn… This is our last opportunity. No punishment anymore. We’re equals now.” He took Aragorn’s chin between his fingers and gazed into the blue-grey eyes. “We have four hours until the sun comes up. Let us spend it well.”

Aragorn’s eyes shimmered. He remained silent for a moment, then asked slowly, “May I ask you a favor, Legolas?”

“You may.”

“Would you go outside with me?”

“Outside?” Legolas was surprised. “Are you certain?”

“Yes,” Aragorn said. “Trust me.”

Legolas smiled. “Very well. Let us get dressed, then.”

“Wait.” Aragorn slipped out of bed and quickly drew on his clothes. “I need to make some preparations,” he told the Elf. He knelt on the bed and took Legolas’s face between his hands. “Meet me in an hour in the stables,” he said. “By the box of your horse, Amloth. And I would like you to be dressed the way you were when we journeyed together fifteen years ago. Do you think that can be realized?”

“I’ll try my best,” Legolas said, surprised.

Aragorn smiled and leaned forward for a quick, tender kiss. “Trust me this time, Legolas,” he said softly.

“I do,” Legolas replied. “I’ll be there.”

Aragorn gave him a last kiss and then left the room, too.

Legolas spent the hour that followed preparing himself for whatever Aragorn was up to. He took a bath and scrubbed himself until the scent of sex was gone. Then he searched his closet for clothes that resembled his fellowship outfit: grey leggings, black boots, a silver tunic and a two-toned, green suede jerkin. He also threw a belt onto the bed, together with leather vambraces. To his own surprise, he found that he still had the hooded cloak from Lórien. He smiled in delight and held the green-grey fabric against his face, inhaling its scent and enjoying how familiar it was. Then he put on the leggings, tunic, jerkin, belt and boots. He also braided his hair the way it had been during the quest: two thin braids at his temples and one thick braid at the back of his head.

For a moment, he stood hesitating with his quiver in his hands. Would Aragorn want to see his weaponry, too? In the end, he fastened his cloak about his neck and strapped his quiver on his back, making use of the strategically cut holes in the cloak. He also didn’t forget the vambraces, and the two knives that belonged on his back. When all was done, he picked up his bow and looked at himself in the mirror. Yes, very much the Legolas who had been chosen to represent the Elves in the Fellowship. He smiled at his own reflection, realizing that he no longer had difficulty looking at himself in the mirror.

It had been almost an hour since Aragorn had left. All was dark and quiet in the corridors as Legolas headed for the stables. It took a while for him to realize that he was smiling all the way.

When he entered the stables, he saw that Aragorn was already there, standing by Amloth’s box. Legolas went to him, then gasped. Aragorn, too, had changed his clothes. The kingly outfit – delicate boots, leggings and tunic – was gone; he was now clad in worn leggings, a black, patched tunic and a long, leather coat, very much like the one he’d been wearing fifteen years ago. His boots were muddy. He even had a leather glove on his right hand, which let his fingers bare. A sword was attached to his belt and he’d slung a bag over his shoulder.

This was no king. This was a Ranger.

Legolas approached him hesitantly. Aragorn was studying him, too, and was the first to smile. “Legolas,” he said slowly, as if he was caressing the syllables with his mouth. “You look splendid.”

Legolas now stood in front of the Man. “You do, too. How did you get this ensemble together in such a short time?”

“It took some effort, but I succeeded eventually,” Aragorn said.

Legolas stretched out his hand and touched Aragorn’s chest. “I can’t believe the transformation,” he said. “It feels like I’ve gone fifteen years back in time.”

“Which was exactly my intention.” Aragorn smiled, and as he did so, took Legolas’s chin in one hand and leaned forward. The kiss was gentle; exploring, gauging, as if it was their first. Legolas closed his eyes, relishing the feeling of Aragorn’s lips brushing tenderly over his.

At that point, Amloth pushed his nose against Legolas’s arm, asking for some attention. Legolas broke away from Aragorn’s soft mouth, laughing, and he affectionately rubbed his horse between the eyes. “Yes, yes, Amloth, I still love you.” Aragorn grinned as well.

“Come,” he said, “it’s time to go.” He led Amloth out of his box and then towards the door. Legolas followed, wondering amusedly where Aragorn would lead him to.

When outside, they both mounted, Aragorn sitting behind Legolas. Legolas took some of Amloth’s mane in one hand and looked back over his shoulder with a smile. “So, where are we going?”

“To the woods,” Aragorn replied. “Where exactly is up to you. I’m sure you know the woods; take me somewhere special, to a place that is dear to you.” He circled his arms around Legolas’s waist and leaned against him, and the Elf held his breath when he felt the Man so close.

And then they galloped together through the deserted streets of the city. Legolas enjoyed the familiar rhythm, and the sensation of Aragorn’s body behind him. He realized he was smiling again, and he smiled even broader when he saw the bewildered expression on the face of the Elf standing on guard by the city gates as they flew by. Legolas could guess what he was thinking: who was that Man behind lord Legolas, and where were they going in the middle of the night? Suddenly he was laughing out loud as they flew over the green meadows, towards the woods in the east.

“Why are you laughing?” Aragorn murmured into his ear, and Legolas heard the smile in his voice.

“Because,” Legolas said, “just because.” And he laughed again.

“You have such a beautiful laugh,” Aragorn said and he kissed Legolas behind his ear. “I hope I will hear it countless times in the future.”

“I don’t think that will be a problem,” Legolas said, smiling happily.

When they entered the woods, Legolas was forced to urge Amloth into a slower pace. There was a path, but it was narrow, and they followed it deeper into the forest.

“You’ve already thought of a place for us to go, haven’t you?” Aragorn asked him.

“Yes,” Legolas said. “My favorite spot in this forest.”

“Good.” Aragorn’s hands had lain against Legolas’s stomach all the way, fingers entwined, but now he unfolded his hands and moved them to Legolas’s hips. He stroked them slowly, then his outer thighs, sliding down as far as he could, and moving up again. Legolas took a deep intake of breath and he shivered.

Aragorn’s hands now slid back over Legolas’s hips, over his buttocks and under Legolas’s tunic, caressing the bare skin. “You feel so good,” Aragorn said. Legolas felt warm hands on the skin of his back, his buttocks, his hips and his abdomen. The touch was driving him crazy and he unconsciously urged Amloth to go faster.

“Do you like the way I touch you?” Aragorn asked.

“Yes,” Legolas said, “but I curse my clothes.”

“So do I,” Aragorn said and he dipped his hand into Legolas’s leggings, finding the Elf’s hardening sex. Legolas moaned and spurred on his horse even more.

“Are you in a hurry?” Aragorn asked him amusedly, stroking his full length and sliding his thumb over the tip.

“Ah – you mean to make me pay, don’t you?” Legolas said.

“Not really. I just can’t keep my hands of you. Are we almost there?”

“Yes, almost.”

Aragorn withdrew his hands as they rode on. After five more minutes, Legolas brought Amloth to a halt in a small clearing. It lay at a considerable distance from the path. It was secluded, and there was a medium-sized pool, very much like the one they’d sat by that first night in Lórien. Above their heads, the tree tops gave way, offering a full view of the sky above. The moon was almost full, bathing the clearing in a white light.

“Is this to your liking?” Legolas asked.

“Very. Do you come here often?”

“Lately, no. I went to the River whenever I desired solitude.”

They both dismounted. At a sign from Aragorn, they both sat down near the middle of the clearing. Aragorn pulled his bag over his arm and put it beside him. Legolas looked at it, wondering what was in it, but he decided not to ask.

Aragorn made Legolas kneel in front of him and he opened the clasp of Legolas’s quiver-straps, removing the archer’s weaponry and putting it aside carefully. Then he opened his bag and retrieved two cups plus a water skin, and he poured the two of them some of its contents. They both drank. It tasted sweet and spicy, a little like miruvor. Aragorn explained it was just a refreshing herbal drink with no real medicinal effects.

“Are you certain?” Legolas laughed. “Didn’t you add some sort of aphrodisiac?”

“No,” Aragorn smiled. “Do you need that, then?”

“The past 24 hours were exhausting,” Legolas smirked, “but no, I don’t need it.”

After that, they talked for quite some time, mainly about their vicissitudes during and after the Quest. It was very pleasant; it reminded Legolas of the many pleasant conversations they’d had before it had all gone so wrong, and he knew now that he had his friend back. But as time progressed, he started to wonder if it was Aragorn’s intention to spend these last hours with talking alone.

It was not so. In the end, Aragorn took the cup from Legolas’s hand and put it away. He looked at him with a tender glow in his blue-grey eyes. “There are so many things I wanted to do fifteen years ago, but never did,” he said. “Will you allow me to show you this once what they are?”

“I will,” Legolas replied.

Aragorn traced the curves of the leaf-shaped brooch from Lórien with his fingertips. “It’s good to see you still have this,” he said. “It fits you.” He opened it carefully, and as he put it away, together with the cloak, he asked, “Why did your parents name you Greenleaf?”

“My older siblings all have very proud names,” Legolas said. “Sidhir, meaning peaceful ruler, Túrgwaith, meaning victorious man, and so on. But I was the last child and my father and mother wanted to give me a name that did honour to Mirkwood, my place of birth. I was born in springtime, the first leaves had just begun to paint the branches green. When my mother first saw me, she said I was as precious and tender, but also as vigorous and promising as the first green leaf of spring. Hence my name.”

Aragorn smiled tenderly. “That’s beautiful,” he said. “Strange I never asked you that before.” He cupped Legolas’s face with both hands. “She must have been a wise lady, your mother. A pity I never met her before she passed over the Sea.”

“It was her time,” Legolas said. “But we will all rejoin her eventually.”

Aragorn lightly drew his lips over Legolas’s brow, down his temple, his cheekbone, his cheek, his jaw, until he reached Legolas’s chin. Then he moved back up over the other side of Legolas’s face. Legolas closed his eyes and enjoyed the tenderness of these light caresses. “You have such a beautiful face,” Aragorn murmured against his skin. “My lips remember every inch of it.” He kissed the bridge of Legolas’s nose and moved upwards between the dark eyebrows. And then he kissed Legolas’s closed eyelids.

“I love your eyes,” he said. “Never did I meet anyone with eyes as blue as yours.”

Legolas opened his mouth to speak, but Aragorn sealed his lips with a finger. He then brought that same finger to one of Legolas’s ears and slowly traced the curve of it. Legolas shivered in response. Such a sensitive area; he never remained unaffected when touched there.

“I love your ears,” Aragorn continued. “Elven ears have fascinated me since I was a child, and the very sight of yours excites me, I don’t know why.”

Legolas then felt lips on his temple again, grazing at his hairline. “I love the softness of your hair,” Aragorn murmured. “And I love the scent of it. It smells of the woods, the leaves, the grass, of flower petals. It smells of long days spent in nature, of freedom. I will always remember that scent.”

Legolas felt strangely moved by the things Aragorn was doing and saying. The emotion resembled happiness, but it had a thin edge of sorrow and regret to it, as well. He kept his eyes closed as Aragorn continued to caress his face. It heightened his other senses, and when calloused fingertips suddenly traced his lips, Legolas let out a soft sound of surprise.

“I love your lips,” Aragorn murmured. “Thin, sensual, perfectly shaped. I love that sensual, bow-like curve of your upper lip.” He placed light, dry kisses along Legolas’s lips and the Elf felt his heart flutter.

“I love the little folds that appear by your mouth when you smile,” Aragorn continued. “I love the narrowing of your eyes and the way the corners of your mouth curve up then. Seeing it always makes me smile in response.”

Aragorn then placed random, light kisses over Legolas’s entire face, leaving a tingle everywhere he came. “I love the way you frown ever so slightly when you’re deep in thought,” he murmured. “I love the malicious curl of your mouth when you’re in battle. I love the way you frown in concentration when you take aim with your bow.”

Aragorn now moved further down, kissing Legolas’s neck and throat. “I love the smoothness of your skin. I love to feel your pulse here,” he said, tracing one of the veins alongside Legolas’s neck. “I love the eternal beat of your heart. I marvel at the fact that this is the same heart that started beating in your chest hundreds of years ago.” Fingertips caressed the sensitive skin tenderly. “How old are you, Legolas?” the Man asked.

“Eight hundred six-and-forty years,” Legolas replied softly.

“How I envy Elves,” Aragorn sighed. “Almost a millennium under the belt, and still your skin is soft and flawless as a babe’s.” He slowly opened the fastenings of Legolas’s jerkin and removed it, together with the belt. Legolas then felt hands stroking down his shoulders and arms, over the silk of his tunic, until they reached the vambraces.

“Let’s remove these too,” Aragorn said and he turned Legolas’s left arm to open the fastenings, then removed the leather arm protection. Then he did the same with the other. He held Legolas’s arm in that position, the underside upturned, and caressed the palm with his fingertips. “I love your hands,” he said. “They’ve brought death to many a foul creature, but they are meant to do beautiful things. I love that they are slender and masculine at the same time. I love your fingers, the curve of your thumbs.” His fingertips now slid over Legolas’s wrists, tracing the veins, and Legolas shivered. Aragorn then brought Legolas’s hand to his lips and drew the thumb into his warm mouth, and Legolas’s breathing quickened when Aragorn sucked gently, stroking the digit sensually with his tongue.

When his thumb was released, Aragorn asked him, “How old were you when you first touched a bow, Legolas?”

“Sweet Valar, that is ages ago,” Legolas said. “I couldn’t even spell the word yet. I came across Túrgwaith’s bow while I was playing. My toys were instantly forgotten.” He laughed. “The thing was taller than I was.”

Aragorn smiled as he opened Legolas’s tunic. He tossed the garment aside and said, “Lie down on your stomach, Legolas.”

Legolas shivered when the cool ground touched his skin, but the cold disappeared soon. Aragorn straddled him and removed the leather glove from his right hand. Then he reached for his bag. Legolas heard a plopping sound and discerned the scent of orange blossom. And then large, oil-slick hands were massaging his shoulders. Ah, that was pleasurable. Legolas rested his cheek against the ground and underwent the exquisite sensation of fingers kneading his muscles, circling, applying pressure in strategic places. Aragorn worked downwards slowly, taking his time to make Legolas completely relaxed, applying new oil when his hands went dry. He paid much attention to the small of Legolas’s back, knowing that Legolas liked to be massaged there as it was the place where the most tension gathered. As he made circling movements with his thumbs, Legolas moaned softly. A tingling warmth spread through his entire body.

“Lower, Aragorn,” he said, “please.”

Aragorn pushed his hands under the waistband of Legolas’s leggings and kneaded firmly, causing Legolas to hiss in delight. His hips made an involuntary downward movement. Aragorn then shoved the leggings down his legs, removing them together with the boots. Legolas held his breath when the heat of his hardening member came into contact with the ground, and the anticipation of what was to come made his blood pool hotly in his loins.

Aragorn was now stroking his calves, kneading gently. As he moved upwards, he lingered in the hollows of Legolas’s knees, applying light pressure to make Legolas shiver. And then he stroked upwards to Legolas’s buttocks, his spread fingers making temporary tracks in the skin. He applied more oil to his hands and kneaded Legolas’s buttocks. “Uhh,” Legolas moaned, “Aragorn, that’s good.”

Aragorn made rubbing movements in the cleft of Legolas’s buttocks, circling around the opening to his body. When a first finger hesitantly probed into him, Legolas moved his hips encouragingly. “Ahhh, yes,” he groaned. “Go on, don’t stop.”

Aragorn pushed deeper, twisting his finger, and Legolas knew the Man was searching for something. He shifted to help him and moaned loudly when he was successful. “That’s it, Aragorn,” he gasped, lifting his hips, “ah, gods.”

Aragorn added a second finger and eventually a third, widening him, stroking his inside, his pleasure center until Legolas lay panting, pushing his erection against the earth, beads of sweat sliding down his temples. His lying on his stomach made him unable to do anything except clutching at the ground beneath him and letting the Man manipulate him.

“Gods, how I want you,” Aragorn gasped. “If only you could feel how hard I am for you.”

“Let me feel it,” Legolas moaned. “You have already prepared me well.”

“Not yet,” Aragorn said and he flipped Legolas over.

“Ah, that’s cruel,” Legolas complained.

“Ssh,” Aragorn soothed as he sat astride Legolas’s hips. He took Legolas’s warm face between his hands and gave him a gentle kiss, inhaling the gasping breaths that came from Legolas’s lips. He then moved a little further down, laying his hand on Legolas’s heaving chest, over his pounding heart.

“I love how your chest rises and falls when you’re aroused,” Aragorn said. “I love how you unconsciously lick your lips when you’re nearing your climax.” He placed kisses over Legolas’s chest, in the meantime stroking the Elf’s arms and shoulders. He traced Legolas’s pectoral muscles with his lips and tongue, briefly lingering on the nipples.

“I love how your body is graceful and masculine at the same time,” he said, kissing his way down Legolas’s stomach. “I love the movements you make when you shoot arrows. I love how your fingers curve around the bowstring before you release, and the play of fine bones and sinews under the skin of your hand.”

Legolas closed his eyes and shivered when the Man’s tongue slid down his stomach, slowly and unhurriedly. Aragorn wanted to taste every inch of him, it seemed.

“I love how you shoot an arrow per second, even when you’re running or horse-riding,” Aragorn continued. “I love how you always move with grace, be it when battling, dancing or making love.”

Aragorn now parted Legolas’s knees and knelt between them. He bent one of Legolas’s legs and caressed the Elf’s inner thigh. “I love how soft your skin is here,” he said. His fingertips lingered on a spot near Legolas’s groin, where the birthmark was. “I love this,” the Man said.

“Why?” Legolas asked.

“I don’t know. It’s just you and I love it.” And then Aragorn reached out and took Legolas’s balls gently in the cup of his fingers. Legolas inhaled sharply and clawed at the ground beneath his fingers, and when Aragorn caressed him, the exhalation was a long moan. “I love how that feels,” Aragorn said. “And I love how you react when I touch you thus.” His other hand grasped Legolas’s erect cock and began massaging it, making slow, pumping movements and rubbing his thumb over the most sensitive spots. Yes, Legolas thought vaguely as he arched his back and moaned loudly, the Man still knew his preferences.

“I love those sounds you make,” Aragorn said hoarsely. When drops of liquid started welling from Legolas’s shaft, he used his thumb to spread it out over the highly sensitive crown.

“Gods, Aragorn,” Legolas moaned, shuddering. He reflexively spread his legs wider, offering more of himself.

“I love the way you say my name,” Aragorn said and he bent down to lick Legolas clean with one swirl of his tongue. “I love the taste of you,” he then said.

“Aragorn,” Legolas whispered, “make love to me. Don’t make me wait any longer. Please…”

Aragorn smiled as he began stripping himself. “Are you that impatient, Legolas?”

“That’s not fair,” Legolas said, watching the Man as he laid his beautiful body bare, “I’ve wanted this since you first touched me in Lórien.”

“I know,” Aragorn said soothingly. “But the wait is over.” He leaned forward and kissed the Elf. “Which position would you prefer?” he murmured.

“I want to lie on my stomach,” Legolas said breathlessly.

“As you wish,” Aragorn said with a smile and he flipped Legolas over again. “You are covered in sand,” he laughed and he began to brush it away.

“Never mind,” Legolas said.

Aragorn sat astride Legolas’s upper legs and swiftly lubricated his cock with oil. Legolas waited, breathing heavily and tense with anticipation. Aragorn then spread Legolas’s buttocks a little and Legolas felt the tip of Aragorn’s large erection against his opening. And then finally, finally the feeling of Aragorn’s cock sliding into him. He leaned on his elbows and let out a long moan as Aragorn filled him slowly with his heat and hardness.

Aragorn was surprised at how smoothly he entered Legolas. He encountered no resistance and Legolas did not seem to feel any pain. It was almost as if the Elf drew him in, welcomed him. Aragorn took Legolas by the hips and claimed the last inches. Then he stilled, trembling and perspiring all over. The sight of his cock disappearing into Legolas’s body almost undid him already.

“Ah, Aragorn, you feel good,” Legolas groaned. “Now take me.”

Aragorn leaned over him a little, bracing his hands on Legolas’s both sides, and began moving. He drew back, so far that he almost slipped free, and then claimed Legolas again, making long, slow strokes. Every time he pushed in, he moved more insistently, with a little more power. It was maddening. Sweat trickled into Legolas’s eyes but he barely noticed the tiny stings. His erection pressed hard against the ground, throbbing harder when Aragorn increased his pace, and he lifted his hips a little, trying to meet Aragorn’s movements.

“Uhh, yes,” Legolas moaned, “go faster. Is this as you had imagined it to be?”

“Better,” Aragorn said through clenched teeth as he made another long stroke: pulling back until he almost left Legolas, then pushing his full length in again. “Ah, I love how you feel!” he moaned. “Gods, it’s driving me insane.”

“Yes!” Legolas gasped, shifting impatiently. “I want more, Aragorn – I need more. Take me harder!”

And Aragorn complied, making shorter, faster and harder thrusts, angling his hips to strike Legolas’s sweet spot more fully. Legolas moaned thankfully, and he pushed himself up on stretched arms, wondering how long he would be able to keep that up. He felt Aragorn’s mouth on him, a tongue sliding over his shoulder, teeth nibbling and biting. Aragorn’s cock within him swelled even more, and the Man’s thrusts became sharper, feverish. They both had some hours of passion behind them already, and their release would come quicker than they wished.

“Legolas,” Aragorn said and he sounded strangled. “I – I can’t finish it like this. I want to see your face. Please… Let me see… your face.”

Legolas turned, flinging himself onto his back and stretching out his hands to the Ranger. He received Aragorn into his arms and into his body once more, and he lifted his legs, wrapping them around his lover’s form. Legolas moved to meet Aragorn’s powerful thrusts, and both moaned as their coupling made them one. They moved in unison, sweat-slick bodies sliding against each other, fingers interlacing in a slow, erotic dance, tongues pairing sensually. Legolas couldn’t tell which heartbeat was his and which one was Aragorn’s, and he saw stars already with the sheer pleasure of their mating, the long-awaited sensation of Aragorn inside of him. The sounds of their pleasure filled the clearing, but only the trees were there to hear it. Between his moans, Aragorn deliriously whispered sweet words in Elvish to him, and the effect this had on Legolas was unexpectedly strong. He felt a sob rise in his chest, threatening to break free.

When Aragorn took Legolas’s erection in hand again, resuming the expert ministrations, violent tremors rippled through Legolas’s legs and abdomen, announcing a powerful release. His mouth open in a rising cry, his head flung back against the ground and his eyes were on the night sky above as he came furiously. Ah, yes; that was how it should have been back then: an Elf and a Ranger, making love under the stars. Aragorn braced his hands on the back of Legolas’s head and pulled the Elf against him, sobbing as he spent himself within his lover’s body. He did not look at Legolas, but the Elf instinctively knew that Aragorn was crying, and he held and cradled him, whispering soothing words until after a little while, the Man stilled in his arms.

“Gerich veleth nîn, Legolas,” Aragorn whispered, “I love you. And I always will.”

“And I will always love you, Aragorn,” Legolas said softly.

They kissed, a long, slow kiss; and afterwards, they held each other tight, their heartbeats gradually slowing down. A gentle nightly breeze swept over their naked bodies, but neither felt cold since they had each other to warm themselves at.

“Thank you,” they both said simultaneously, and they looked at each other, grinning weakly.

“You go first,” Aragorn said, caressing the side of Legolas’s face.

“Thank you for coming to the festival,” Legolas said. “Thank you for telling me your part of the story. Thank you for being my friend again. And thank you for bringing me here tonight.” He smiled. “The circle is complete now.”

“It is.” Aragorn smiled too. “Thank you for forgiving me. Thank you for this opportunity; the opportunity to do and say the things I should have said and done years ago. I will always remember it.”

“And so will I.”

“And,” Aragorn added, “thank you for the punishment. It was… unforgettable.”

“It was,” Legolas agreed, and they both laughed. “But it was Haldir’s idea. He deserves the credit.”

“Haldir, yes,” Aragorn mused. “Treasure him, Legolas; let us both become happy people once more. Our days in Middle-earth are counting and I want us both to enjoy it while we can.”

“I am looking forward to every day,” Legolas said with a smile.

After this, they took a dive into the pool. They scrubbed each other clean, taking their time, and exchanged long kisses. When they were refreshed, they wrapped themselves in a blanket Aragorn had brought with him and watched the stars fade in the sky, leaning against each other, holding hands and conversing quietly. Both were at peace; with themselves, with each other, and with the world.

As the sun came up, they ate some bread Aragorn had brought as well. And then it was time to go back. Aragorn would set out from Caras Gwedeir that morning. They both got dressed and mounted Amloth, who was impatient to get back to his box for his oats breakfast and carried them swiftly. Both Man and Elf were laughing as they galloped back over the meadows, to the city, which was bathing in the morning sun.

Haldir:

I wake when he slips under the sheets behind me. He is as naked as I am and I can tell he has bathed, for he smells of nothing but his own sweet self. I sigh when his warm skin comes into contact with mine as he takes me into his arms.

“You’re back early,” I murmur, my eyes still closed.

“I suddenly had a vision of a beautiful, blond Elf lying in bed, all alone,” he says. “I decided to go find out if he would care for some company.”

“For your company, always,” I say.

As he pulls me tightly against him, he says, “Why is there only one of you, Haldir? I feel almost guilty for having you as my own, while everyone deserves to be with someone like you.”

“You over-value me,” I say with a chuckle.

“I don’t think so,” he says softly. His body shifts behind me, slides over me and suddenly he’s lying in front of me, his face only inches from mine.

“Do you have any idea,” he says, taking my face between his hands, “how much I love you?”

“I think so,” I say with a sleepy smile.

“And,” he continued, moving even closer, “did you know that I find blond, gorgeous Elves highly arousing when they’re still all drowsy and warm from sleep, like you are now?”

“Is that so?” I say, and I fail to hide my amusement.

“Oh, yes,” he says. One of his hands suddenly slides down my stomach, its purpose clear. When I take his wrist in my hand, stopping him, he eyes me with sudden uncertainty.

“Legolas, you don’t have to do this,” I tell him gently.

“Do what?” he asks.

“Make love to me out of guilt. You don’t even have to feel guilty. I left you alone with him myself.”

He shakes his head, “’Tis not like that. I don’t feel guilty, Haldir, but I can’t start this day before you have claimed me as your own.”

“Mine?” I say.

“Yes,” he replies, and he gives me a heartbreakingly tender kiss. “Yours. Please, Haldir.”

“My dearest Legolas,” I chuckle, “are you actually begging me to make love to you, silly one? As if I could even resist you… I just wanted to make sure you didn’t do it out of guilt.”

“No guilt,” he says. “Just my desire to be yours, yours forever.”

Moved and reassured by these sweet, sincere words, I release his hand and it slowly continues its way down. I let my eyes fall shut as I enjoy the wonderful feeling of my lover’s fingers exploring me. He lets out a soft sound of surprise when he takes me between my legs and finds me already hard and aroused. I cannot help myself; it’s his touch, his scent, simply everything. Do I really have the same effect on him? I can still barely believe it, but it must be true, for he breathes heavily with longing as he makes me lie on my back and straddles me. He strokes me with skill, manipulating me as if I were a puppet on a string, in the meantime watching my reactions from beneath his lashes, love and lust in his eyes. Since I am still in a delicious daze after an exhausting night and few hours of deep sleep, I surrender; I let him do what he wants with me. He lubricrates me with the escaping drops of my own fluid. That is all the preparation he needs, and the following second I moan in pleasure when he takes me smoothly into him. Oh gods, that is absolutely the best feeling in the world.

“Haldir,” he whispers, and never before has my name sounded so beautiful. I grasp the sheets beneath me to brace myself against the rhythmical rocking movements he starts to make and I moan deliriously, watching him in admiration, my prince of Mirkwood. He leans back a little, slightly bending his long, flexible back and hooking his hands beneath my knees in search for anchor.

“Legolas!” I say with a gasp. “I need you!”

“I am yours… Yours, Haldir, always!”

I believe him. When at last the passion threatens to undo me, I release the sheets from my hands and replace them with something much better, the marble column of Legolas’s erection. He moans in response, moves faster. I collect the liquid escaping him and smear it out over his length with both hands.

“Haldir!” he cries, his beautiful body tensing with his approaching orgasm. “I love you!”

“As I love you, my Legolas… as I love you!” A shout from me right before we both fall over the edge. This is our pledge, I can feel it when our quivering bodies unite in an embrace. From this moment on, he is mine as I am his. I know it.

And in all my long years, I have never felt more blessed, more happy, than in this moment.

Aragorn:

Aragorn came down for breakfast that morning as if nothing had happened, except that he was in an excellent mood. To be exact, he hadn’t felt so good in many years. He regretted the fact that he was leaving today, but he was looking forward to seeing Minas Tirith again, and his family. Yes, especially Arwen. Now that he had found friendship with Legolas again, it was time to concentrate on his marriage. He was wondering, though, how he would bring up the things that had happened the night before his departure from Caras Gwedeir. Arwen would probably see in his eyes that something had happened, and the question was how she would react when he told her. But he did not worry too much about that. Arwen was wiser than he; she had probably foreseen something like this long before he had.

Aragorn had an unexpected bit of fun during breakfast. Rulof came down later than usual, his hands covered in charcoal as usual, and a dreamy smile on his face. Aragorn eyed him curiously, but his curiosity was soon satiated when Elena entered the dining room. The girl had faint black fingerprints on her face and her smile mirrored Rulof’s. Aragorn smiled to himself. Apparently he wasn’t the only one who was in an exceptionally good mood this morning.

The Minas Tirith delegation set out before noon. Faramir and Legolas were there to see them off, together with some other Men and Elves. Haldir stood beside Legolas, who was dressed for the occasion in a ceremonial robe, comparable to the green one, but of a pale blue that emphasized the warmth of his royalblue eyes even more. As everyone was bidding each other farewell, Aragorn took Legolas and Haldir apart for a moment. Both Elves were clearly in high spirits and very much in love with each other, and Aragorn was glad to see that. Apparently Haldir did not feel even a trace of jealousy after the hours Aragorn and Legolas had spent together in the woods.

“The reason I came to your room yesterday evening,” Aragorn began, “is this.” He produced a little, round box from his bag, made of plain grey wood. “Arwen sends it to you, Legolas. She wants you to have it. She asked me to give it to you, together with these words: she has you in her heart and wishes you joy for all of your days.” He handed the box to Legolas, who received it carefully.

“Do you know what it is, Aragorn?” Legolas asked him.

“No,” Aragorn said. “I am not supposed to see it before you do.”

Legolas lifted the lid and the three of them looked to see what was in it. In the middle of the box, resting on a soft cloth, was a single brown seed the size of a small acorn. Legolas and Aragorn looked at it in wonder, but Haldir gasped.

“By the gods,” he whispered. “That is the seed of a mallorn tree.”

Legolas’s and Aragorn’s mouths fell open, now, too. “No,” Legolas said, “is that possible?”

Aragorn nodded slowly. “I think it is. The Lady Galadriel must have given that to Arwen many years ago, during her stay in Lórien.”

“Aragorn…” Legolas said. “I can’t possibly take this. It’s too precious a gift. Mallorn seeds are rare, and no mallorn grows outside Lórien’s borders. That’s the way it’s always been.”

“Times change, Legolas,” Aragorn said. “If Elves and Dwarves can be firm friends nowadays, then why couldn’t Caras Gwedeir be home to a mallorn tree? Apparently Arwen thinks you worthy of this gift.” He smiled. “Do you question her judgement?”

“Of course not,” Legolas said, also smiling. He exchanged a look of understanding with Aragorn, who knew they were both thinking of the time they spent in Lórien and the leaves they brought from there. And then they both looked at Haldir, who stood staring at the seed with a tender smile. Legolas took his lover by the hand. “It seems you won’t be separated from your homeland completely, Haldir,” Legolas said.

Haldir looked up and squeezed Legolas’s hand gently. They smiled at each other before turning to Aragorn. “Do not thank Arwen on our behalf, Aragorn,” Legolas said. “We will come to Minas Tirith and thank her personally for this very special and thoughtful gift.”

Aragorn bowed slightly. “She will be thrilled to receive you both, and I will be looking forward to your coming.” He embraced Legolas, and Legolas returned the gesture warmly. “Until next time, Legolas, thank you for everything. Cuio vi’ sîdh ar gell, mellon.” [live in peace and joy, friend]

“Calad lalaith ar meleth, Aragorn,” [light, laughter and love] Legolas smiled, “’till our next meeting, my friend.”

Aragorn then moved to Haldir. “And I thank you too, Haldir.”

”It was my pleasure,” Haldir said with a smile, and he unexpectedly pulled Aragorn into an affectionate embrace. Aragorn, surprised, returned it.

“Now that reminds me of something,” Legolas chuckled.

“Yes,” Haldir said, “but it’s the other way round this time. I’ve been waiting for an opportunity.”

Aragorn grinned as he stepped back. “We’re even now, Haldir, we’re even.”

At that point, Rulof came over to them. “I had something for you, Legolas,” he said, “as a thank-you for your advice and all… but I don’t know if it’s appropriate anymore.” He grinned apologetically at Haldir.

“What is it, then?” Legolas asked him kindly.

Rulof fished something from his pocket and handed it to Legolas. Aragorn and Haldir leaned over to see what it was: a small piece of paper with a brilliant depiction of Merilin in fine lines of charcoal. Rulof gauged Legolas for a first reaction, which was a tender smile.

“How pretty,” Haldir said. “I don’t think you could have thought of something more appropriate, Rulof. You are as kind as you are talented. I am glad that this goodbye will not be forever.”

“I fall in with that,” Legolas said and he embraced the relieved young man. “Thank you, Rulof. Promise me you’ll practise with your bow. I will bring mine with me when I come to Minas Tirith and we’ll continue our practises.”

“I would like that,” Rulof beamed. “In the meantime, I’ll practise so hard, you won’t recognize me next time.”

“In your spare time, Rulof,” Aragorn said, “not during working hours.” All laughed.

“All those gifts,” Legolas said, smiling, “I don’t know what to say. Next time we’ll be bringing gifts to Minas Tirith, Haldir!”

The Fellowship had a last conversation. Gimli would stay in Caras Gwedeir for a little while longer before returning to Aglarond, and the Hobbits would accompany Aragorn to Minas Tirith before returning to the Shire. It was agreed that they would all get together again in the near future for a reunion. Aragorn bade Faramir farewell, complimented him with the splendor of the city and the success of the festival.

And then it was time to depart. The delegation set off northwards, back to Minas Tirith. Back to his royal responsibilities, Aragorn thought, but it was not an unhappy thought. He felt refreshed, renewed. He longed for home, for his wife and son. His travelling companions seemed to be in high spirits, as well. Borlag sat smiling, as did Elena, and Rulof whistled a hobbit tune.

Aragorn looked back over his shoulder. Faramir’s maroon robe whipped about him; Legolas was flanked by Haldir and Gimli. As if one man, Legolas and Gimli raised their hand in a greeting. Aragorn returned it with a smile. As Haldir had said, this goodbye was not forever, and there was no reason for sadness. There was only happiness and contentment in him. And good hope for an even brighter future; for Middle-earth, for Legolas, and for himself.

Aragorn now joined Rulof in the whistling, and soon the Hobbits were participating, too. All of their gazes were fused on the horizon to the north, where Minas Tirith was. The heart of Gondor, the Citadel. Where Arwen and Eldarion awaited him.

The King was returning home.

~Epilogue – Ripples In The Stream~

Well, that turned out to be quite a long tale. I thank you for listening so patiently, wanderer. Hours have passed since I first started telling, the day is ending now. I guess I could have made it shorter, but you should know that we rivers are long-winded. We never say anything unless it is worth taking a long time to say. I hope you have enjoyed my story…

What? You are not content yet? You wish to know what happened to all these good people after this? So apparently my tale captivated you. That is good to hear.

Well, let me see… The Hobbits lived a long and happy life in the Shire, and they saw the other remaining members of the Fellowship on several occasions. In the year 60 of the Fourth Age, Samwise Gamgee left the Shire after the passing of his wife Rosie, and he went to the Grey Havens and passed over the Sea, last of the Ring-bearers. Merry and Pippin remained in Middle-earth and lived their last years in Minas Tirith.

Haldir and Legolas travelled to Lórien one last time, and Haldir bade his homeland farewell. There was sadness in his heart, but it was nothing compared to the happiness he felt at having found a new homeland, and he told Legolas that Lórien might just as well be the Dead Marshes or the slopes of Mount Doom as long as Legolas wouldn’t be living there with him. On their way back to Caras Gwedeir they visited Minas Tirith, where they, to their joy, learned that Queen Arwen was with child, and that she and King Elessar were radiant with affection for each other. Legolas finally met Eldarion and was amazed to see how much the young lad resembled both his parents. Eldarion, on his part, was excited to meet his father’s old friend at last, the tall archer-prince from Mirkwood who had played such an important role in the Fall of Sauron. Legolas and Haldir were guests in the Citadel for a month

, during which they spent a lot of time exploring the city and its surroundings. Many women’s hearts were broken during that month, for the two beautiful Elves, although perfect gentlemen to every lady they came across, had eyes only for each other.

Legolas kept his promise and spent many hours on the archery range with Rulof, who was making considerable improvement as an archer, and the two of them became fast friends.

When their visit to Minas Tirith was over, Legolas and Haldir continued their way to Caras Gwedeir, where Legolas resumed his role as ruler with more enthusiasm than ever before, and Haldir was always there to support him. As they had promised each other, they always maintained their friendship besides their relationship, which, therefore, was strong and lasting. If laughing is indeed good for you, like it is said, then those two Elves must have been the healthiest creatures in Middle-earth.

After several months, tidings came to the city, saying that the Queen had given birth to a daughter. Again a letter was written by the Council, but this time Legolas acted as the messenger himself, and Haldir went with him. The King and Queen received the letter, but most of all their two friends with gladness and presented the newborn with pride. According to Haldir, it was love at first sight between the little princess and the Mirkwood prince. Legolas received the infant into his arms with remarkable skill and ease, and when asked by Haldir where he had obtained that handiness, replied that he had had practise with the two children of his eldest brother. Even the Queen acknowledged that Gondor’s new princess lay remarkably peaceful against Legolas’s chest. Haldir commented, “He always had a way with the ladies.” Legolas just smiled and gazed into the baby’s eyes, which hadn’t even seen ten sunrises yet, while the girl looked up in wonder at the eyes that had seen the leaves fall and return 847 times.

Later, the royal family came to stay at Caras Gwedeir, too. The little princess, whom her parents had given the name Auriel, was almost ten months old and followed her favorite Elf everywhere, crawling on all fours. Arwen joked that Legolas was lucky that she could not yet walk. The royal family slept in the same wing as Legolas and Haldir, and one night Legolas woke with the distinct sound of a baby crying. It persisted for more than ten minutes, and in the end Legolas decided to go see if everything was all right. He drew on a pair of trousers and a robe and went out, leaving Haldir sleeping. He found Arwen in the nursery, tiredly padding back and forth with her daughter on her arm.

“Teeth,” she said with a smile when she saw Legolas, “it’s such a curse.”

“For the both of you,” Legolas smiled back. “Can I do anything for you?”

“Please hold her for a moment,” Arwen said. “She’s getting heavy.”

And so Legolas received the clamorous and very angry infant onto his arm and he rubbed her back soothingly. Arwen watched him with a smile and said, “You would make an excellent father.”

“But I will never be one,” Legolas said. “I am content with being an uncle.”

Arwen studied him for a moment, then suddenly said, “I often wonder why you don’t hate me, Legolas.”

Legolas frowned, not understanding. “Hate you? Arwen…”

“I’ve always had suspicions about you and Elessar. He confirmed them after the festival last year.” Legolas opened his mouth to speak, but she stopped him. “I don’t hold it against you, Legolas. I never have. I understand why you would fall for him, and he for you. There is no reason why I would deserve him more than you do.”

“Arwen, please, don’t say this,” Legolas protested. “I admit, there was a time when my dreams were filled with thoughts of him, but those times are gone. I have found love with someone else and I couldn’t possibly be happier.” He smiled. “And you have contributed to that, Arwen.”

“Have I?” she asked, surprised.

“Yes, it was you who told him to come to Caras Gwedeir, where he made my heart ready to love again.”

“You praise me wrongly. I did tell him to go, but he didn’t listen. It was the finding of the mallorn leaf that convinced him.”

“Yes,” Legolas acknowledged, “but you encouraged him to go, even though you knew what he felt for me. That was very admirable.”

“I trust him,” Arwen replied. “And he had been restrained by thoughts of me long enough. I have faith in his love for me. I trusted he would come back to me. And he did; and he was a changed man.” She gazed at Legolas with amusement. “He never told me the details of your reconciliation,” she said. “Not because he refused to tell, but because I had no need to hear them. We are both content. Our marriage has flourished. Apparently those days in Caras Gwedeir have done all of us good.”

“Apparently so,” Legolas said with a smile. “I am glad for you both. And I could never hate you, Arwen.”

The baby’s crying had subsided to a soft whimpering by now, and Arwen pulled her robe around her, shivering. “What time is it?” she asked.

“Four o’clock in the morning,” Legolas replied. “Go back to bed and get some sleep, Arwen. I’ll tuck her in.”

“Thank you,” she smiled. She came over to him, put a slender hand on his shoulder and kissed him on the cheek. “Sleep well, pen-melui [sweet one].” He returned the wish and she swept out of the room.

The baby was sucking on her thumb, still sobbing softly. “Oh, I know, fileg-nîn [my little bird],” he said, “it’s not fair, is it?” He walked with her to the window and gazed outside. She curled her tiny arm around his shoulder and fondled his hair, tugging on it. “Ouch,” he said, chuckling. “I’ll make you pay for that, little one. Just wait until you have real hair.” She just gazed at him with large eyes. Look at how content she is now, Haldir would probably say; it was all part of a plan. You can see her think: finally, I have him all for myself…

“You’re not tired at all, are you?” Legolas said. “Let’s see if I can change that with a little song.”

That morning, Haldir woke and found that Legolas’s side of the bed was empty. He wandered outside and came across Arwen, who smiled at him and said, “Are you looking for someone? You’ll find him in my daughter’s room. But enter quietly.”

Legolas was resting on the sofa in a half-lying, half-sitting position, as if he’d sat down for a moment and then fallen asleep. The baby lay in the crook of his arm, her head on his chest, deep in dreams. Haldir hid a smile behind his hand and went inside. At his approach, Legolas’s eyelids fluttered open and he shifted a little, smiling apologetically at Haldir.

“I thought you loved me!” Haldir said dramatically, smirking. “And now I find myself in an empty bed and you in the arms of a woman!”

Legolas grinned. “It meant nothing, Haldir…” Both started laughing softly then.

… But I am straying from the subject. I am sorry. Let me tell you about Merilin now. She returned to Mirkwood with her father and eventually married her betrothed. She lived quite happily, but as is to be expected, she never forgot her first love and she always kept Rulof’s drawing at a safe place, to look at from time to time and think back of times long gone.

As for Rulof… he eventually married Elena and lived a long, happy life. King Elessar gave him a raise, which allowed him to buy a little home for himself and his wife. But he did not stay a secretary forever; he was soon promoted and eventually he held office in the Council, and he would always be one of Elessar’s most loyal employees and confidants. He and Elena had five daughters and triplet sons, some red-haired like their mother, others blond like their father. Rulof never gave up his drawing or his archery, and he and Legolas always remained friends.

As stated before, Aragorn solved his problems with Arwen and both the peace and the passion were restored between them. Legolas always kept a special place in his heart of course, but he was at peace and happy with his life. He no longer thought back of his time with Legolas with regret, but with a warm feeling. The leaf from Lórien he always kept safe, as did Legolas with his, but he no longer relied on that alone as a reminder of Legolas’s love; the memories in his head were more precious to him. He saw Legolas as often as was possible, and their friendship was restored in its old glory, or an even greater one. In Haldir he had found a new friend.

Aragorn lived a long life together with Arwen and their children in great glory and bliss, but eventually he felt the approach of old age and knew that the span of his life-days was drawing to an end. It was the year 120 of the Fourth Age. He sent a messenger for Caras Gwedeir, and Legolas and Haldir came swiftly. Haldir was allowed to see the king first, and they bade each other farewell. Legolas came to the king after Haldir. They talked long, even laughed, but in the end, both were crying. Legolas could not bear to see Aragorn so aged and tired, and Aragorn could not bear to see Legolas still as beautiful as on the day they met, or even more so.

“We both knew this day would come, Legolas,” Aragorn said. “Do not be sad. Wherever I may go after this, I will never forget the Elf called Legolas, who fought by my side and was my friend for many years.” He gently brushed the tears from Legolas’s face. “Think back of me with gladness, not sorrow. You can take a ship to the Undying Lands now. It’s what you’ve wanted for a very long time.”

Legolas shook his head. “I would stay here forever if that meant I could save you from this.”

Aragorn sealed Legolas’s lips with a finger and they looked each other in the eye for a moment. “Legolas, my friend… don’t forget me,” he said simply.

“Never,” Legolas said. “I will keep you in my heart.”

And then they both leaned forward, and kissed. A brief, tender meeting of lips. It lasted only a few seconds. And then Aragorn sat back again, and smiled. “Thank you,” was all he said.

The last embrace they shared lasted a long time, but it had to end eventually. Aragorn left with a peaceful smile, accompanied by Arwen and leaving a very pale Legolas in Haldir’s arms. Aragorn lay down on a bed in the House of the Kings and said farewell to Eldarion, on whom he bestowed the winged crown of Gondor and the sceptre of Arnor. And then he was alone with Arwen, and he spoke words of affection to her, and she to him; but all too soon it was his time. A smile remained on his lips after his spirit had left Middle-earth, but Arwen sat by his side and wept. After that, Legolas and Haldir were allowed to come to him, and they too cried long.

King Elessar was gone. But he left a blooming kingdom, a son, who was as compassionate and true a ruler as his father had been, and the memory of him; for the name Elessar still lingers on people’s lips, and is spoken with respect and affection.

That same evening, Legolas said to Haldir that he was ready to leave Middle-earth. They said farewell to Arwen, and to the others in Minas Tirith who they loved. Arwen left Minas Tirith and dwelt in Lórien until she, too, passed away. That day, Middle-earth said farewell to another of its gems. Legolas travelled to Mirkwood one last time, and he told his family goodbye. They were sad to see him leave, but they knew they would see him again in a distant future.

Legolas and Haldir then returned to Caras Gwedeir, and built a grey ship there. An other Elf was chosen to be the Elven-lord of Ithilien, and all saw Legolas take ship with sadness in their hearts. Long stood Legolas hesitating on the shore, his gaze fused on the northern horizon, on the spires of Caras Gwedeir. The city he’d helped rebuilding. The only home he’d known after Mirkwood. The ship was behind him, rocking slightly on the breakers. Gimli had boarded already. A light step behind him told him that Haldir was approaching.

A familiar hand on his shoulder. “Are you ready, Legolas?”

“I didn’t know it would be so difficult,” Legolas said.

“You will see your family again someday.”

“I know. But it’s not just my family. It’s… it’s all those places I’ve been to. Never will I look upon the Misty Mountains again, or smell the leaves of Mirkwood.”

“You have your memories,” Haldir said. “As long as you have those, you won’t really leave Middle-earth.”

Legolas gazed back at the ship, at Gimli. “Gimli and me,” he said, “that’s all that’s left of the Fellowship. All that’s left of the Nine Walkers, Haldir. And one day it will be only me.”

“That day is very distant still,” Haldir said with a smile. “Dwarves are a incredibly tough race. I think we will have to hear Gimli’s gruff remarks for many years to come.”

Legolas smiled, too. “I hope so.”

Haldir took Legolas’s hand in his own. “Come, do not think of this as an ending. It is a beginning. You will feel better as soon as we set sail.”

Legolas looked at Haldir with loving eyes. “You know I love you.”

Haldir smiled at him. “I do. Come, my leaf, my love; it is time to follow your heart’s desire.”

“One line from my sea-song needs changing,” Legolas said after a short, thoughtful silence.

“Really? Which one?”

“’I will pass the wide waters lonely sailing’,” Legolas said. “for I will not be lonely.” He squeezed Haldir’s hand affectionately.

Together they walked towards the boat. Haldir leaned over to Legolas and said, “Do you think Gimli will mind if we get indecent in his presence?”

Legolas laughed. “It will be a problem if that is the case. You look delicious as always, and I don’t think I will be able to keep my hands off you during that long journey.”

Both were laughing as they joined Gimli in the boat. And then they set sail, journeyed down my current, and passed over the Sea. I heard their laughter for a little while longer, but eventually it was lost in the sounds of the Sea. What happened to them after that, I do not know. Ask the Sea for news from Valinor. But it is my belief that both Legolas and Haldir still live happily there, together; for in the Undying Lands there is joy and happiness only, and never did two people share a love greater than theirs. And it is said that in Valinor, Gimli saw the beauty of Lady Galadriel again, the one thing he desired most.

The seed of the mallorn tree was planted in the courtyard of Legolas’s palace, by Legolas and Haldir themselves, shortly after Aragorn’s departure from Caras Gwedeir. By the time they left Middle-earth, it was a vigorous, tall tree. In the autumn it did not shed its leaves, but they turned to gold; not until spring came did they fall, and then the bough was laden with yellow flowers. Legolas and Haldir had spent many hours sitting under that tree and they’d seen it grow through the years. They remained Arwen ever thankful for that gift.

After their departure, with which came an end in Middle-earth of the Fellowship of the Ring, the mallorn still stood there for endless years to come, still growing and turning gold every autumn. A last and everlasting reminder in Middle-earth of a love that once existed between an elven prince and a king of Men, and of an ancient elven realm called Lórien, homeland to the Elf who became the keeper of Legolas’s heart.

That tree still stands there I think. Have you seen it? Yes? Then you now know how it came to grow here, so far from Lórien, land of the mellyrn. I think you will look upon it with different eyes now.

That, I think, is all that needs to be told here. I have recounted what happened to the people I introduced to you, I have told you everything I know. I am tired now and long for some rest. And so do you, I gather. I hope you will think back from time to time of the things I told you, remember this story of friendship and love. Perhaps I will see you again sometime. For now, go home and live in peace.

Goodbye.

THE END

If you enjoyed this story, please send FB to Laurelin.

Read Author's Notes for these parts.