In the luminescent twilight, his eyes shone blue as the stars above. An unearthly brightness seemed to emanate from them, turning the golden creature into a vision. He hardly looked real with his windblown hair, unmade braids loosing a wild mane, a flaxen cloud about the beautiful face.

Beautiful he was, by any standards. Even when, on closer inspection, Frodo saw that it was the glow of tears that which he saw in those eyes he thought Legolas handsome. More than handsome, this being was lovely beyond belief. The fact that his actions betrayed no vanity, that he had the poise of a warrior, of the sylvan folk of his ancestry, rather than that of a prince as was his birthright, only enhanced his charm. It was, Frodo decided, the helpless sobbing that which had made the flushed face burn with a tragic beauty, had made those lips glisten and quiver so. Legolas Greenleaf could not help but be beautiful, that was plain to see.

For an instant, Legolas turned wide eyes upon Frodo. He looked for all the world like a frightened deer, and he cursed himself silently for letting his guard down so unforgivably. It might have been Orcs facing him instead of the little, concerned looking Hobbit. His expression changed fluidly to a stoic one, but he did not bother to dry his tears, nor did he attempt to hide them.

"Pardon me, Legolas. I did not mean t-to intrude. Are you well?"

"No need to concern yourself with me, little friend. Thank you, but I would be alone a while longer," Legolas said as kindly as he could.

"Of course. Of course. Another searches for you still. Should I…?" Frodo stopped mid sentence, not knowing what to ask.

Curiosity filled the Elf's eyes. Suddenly he knew who it was who sought him.

"Let Estel search if he must. Rather do not volunteer my whereabouts, if you would."

Frodo nodded, half comprehendingly, and walked away. His throat constricted when he thought of the forlorn expression he had seen on the Elf's face earlier. Would they see no end to grief in this journey? He could not help the feeling that he had defiled a private moment that was not his to intrude upon. The golden leaves of Lothlórien seemed to whisper kindly as he walked back to the dwelling assigned the company.

Unseen by the Hobbit, Aragorn silently walked past him as one with the forest around him. He left nary a trace of his passing, but he expertly followed the signs that told where Frodo had been. Some instinct told him the little one had found what he himself had been unable to. He came within sight of the object of his search and his breath caught. He saw the signs, but could not fathom the whole picture of what he saw.

He knew enough to make his presence known in subtle ways. It would not do to make Legolas feel he was sneaking up on him on such a private moment. For a moment he considered withdrawing as if he had seen nothing, but thought it beneath him to affront Legolas so.

Legolas did not turn to acknowledge him, although Aragorn heard something akin to a sigh come from the now impassive Elf.

"Greetings, Legolas. Excuse my boldness but; what aggrieves you so?"

"It is nothing, old friend."

"You said before that it is not Gandalf's passing that which distresses you so, although it saddens you, as it does all of us who knew him…"

Aragorn let the sentence hang between them, an unspoken question. Legolas regarded him silently, and for once, the Man virtually twitched uncomfortably. He broke the silence with a more direct question, "Have you had ill news? Is your kin well?"

"As far as I know…and no, no news have come to these lands from the Mirkwood."

Aragorn stood, unsure of what to say. He remembered Gimli's words. 'Does this dwarf have to box your ears for you to see what is plain to all, fool Man?'

"Legolas… have I offended you, vexed you in any way?"

"What makes you say that?" the Elf asked in turn. Remembering himself, he added, "No, you have not."

'Not by far, and yet…' he finished, in thought.

Aragorn's expression was a study of exasperated confusion that Legolas found endearing.

"You truly haven't a clue," Legolas said, an amused little smile on his lips. His mirth withered almost instantly. "It is only I who has brought this upon myself. You need not concern yourself."

"I thought myself your friend. How could I not care? I see your pain plain as day."

Legolas looked away, his self control wavering. "You have burdens enough, Elfstone," he said, barely above a whisper.

Taciturn at best, Aragorn struggled to find words to express himself without distressing his friend. He knew there was something he was missing, and he was growing more frustrated as time passed.

"We all do, Legolas Greenleaf. I am not here to force you…" Aragorn stopped his train of thought, took a deep breath and spoke again.

"You are not required to confide in me, I just want you to know…I am here. I care."

The Man figured that was close enough to what he wanted to say. He never seemed to find the right words where Legolas was concerned.

The Man thought he saw a flash of sadness cross the blue depths of Legolas' gaze, but he could not be certain, as it was gone in the blink of an eye.

"So you are," said the Elf fondly. "I thank you."

"I hope you will come to trust me in time, master Greenleaf."

"There is no dearth of trust between us, Elessar. Allow me this selfishness, that which ails me is really of no import in the greater scheme of things. I simply seek of nature to unburden my spirit. Do not doubt you are in my highest regard."

A warm feeling spread from Aragorn's center when he heard those words, and he blushed for the first time in long years. With a grunt of assent, he nodded at his friend. The Man excused himself reluctantly, wondering at the fierce protectiveness Legolas inspired in him these days.

The ciphers started adding up in the brilliant Man's mind and he wavered on his feet slightly. Legolas was looking at the ground, and missed it.

'I trust you with my life, Elessar. Do not doubt it,' Legolas thought, 'but could I ever trust you with my heart?'

"Will you join us before we depart?" Aragorn asked, hopefully. "I would speak more with my old friend." The Man willed Legolas to look him in the eye, to see what he had barely begun to understand, but to no avail.

Legolas took a deep breath. He was too immersed in his own convoluted thoughts to notice the change in Aragorn. "I will see you in the morrow, at the latest," he said, effectively dismissing Aragorn.

The future king could not hide the small note of disappointment in his voice when he answered.

"Gather your strength, we have a long, difficult road ahead. But of course, you know it all too well. Rest all the same, I pray, Legolas. I…the company needs you…your skills at their best." If the Man wondered at his own stumbling words, he gave no sign.

Legolas put a hand on Aragorn's shoulder, and a spark ignited on the Man's skin he had never felt before. He hid his body's reaction with a skill born of years of restraint and discipline, but his heart quickened undeniably. Only a quicksilver flaring of his nostrils denoted any reaction at all. His voice betrayed nothing, but he was now troubled; far more than before. He had come into the woods looking for answers. He would, instead, leave them with many more questions than he had bargained for.

"Perhaps I should follow my own counsel and retire," he said, excusing himself for the second time, and took his leave.

Legolas remained, stunned. He waited until Aragorn disappeared from view, admiring the sleek elegance of his long strides, then looked at his hand as if it was a thing alien to him. He could still feel a tingling where he had touched Elessar's shoulder.

"Sweet Valar," he whispered, "what manner of sorcery is this? I cannot even touch the Man innocently without burning with this fire. I love him, I know that now, beyond all comprehension. How could I have ever doubted it? No, not doubted, but denied it to myself."

Legolas lifted his eyes to the stars.

"Cruel stars. That you are. You show me a Man unlike any other. A Man who is already promised to one of my kind, to a lover who will never die like he must. And she the daughter of Elrond? No. There is no justice in this world. As if the relations between our houses were not strained enough." Legolas allowed himself the ill comfort of tears once more, but only for a few moments.

'No more,' thought he. 'No more shall I wallow in this self pity that leads nowhere! But what am I to do with this pain that seems to drown me in deepest sorrow? He needs me. He said so himself. His subconscious spoke truly. I will be there for him to the end.'

Dark thoughts filled his mind, unbidden. 'May I ride the last ride to glory in the final battle against Mordor…' he thought bitterly, then hastily added: 'but only after seeing him victorious!! Alive and well."

"Yes. I would be spared that day when Arwen must claim him, body and soul… for surely he would want me there at his nuptials, oblivious to his cruelty… Does this Man not feel!? How can he not guess what lies so heavily upon my heart?'

"Enough," he blurted out, disgusted with himself. The Elf gathered himself easily and decided to walk to the nearby brook to wash up the vestiges of his sorrow from his body. He would center himself, follow the inner paths to the core of his being, recharge his self, then go to bid the water's elemental essence to cleanse his soul and mind as well and, finally, join the others in sleep.

~~~~~~~~~~

To Legolas' great surprise, the brook was not deserted in those wee hours as he expected. He found none other than Aragorn sitting on a rock, perfectly alert of his surroundings, but watching the waters roll by dreamily.

"I could not sleep," said the misty eyed Man in a steady voice.

Only his stance betrayed any hesitancy. He did not turn to see who was there, nor did he need to. He recognized the step, the smell, the very spirit of Legolas, even at 30 paces. Legolas looked straight at him, reading every nuance in his body.

"You have learned the truth," the Elf said at length. It was not a question.

Aragorn turned to regard his friend, and Legolas saw no trace of tears, but the Man's eyes showed some red. Faint shadows that had not been there before were apparent now under his eyes.

"Why did you keep this from me?"

"It is foolishness, that's why," Legolas responded, more sharply than he intended. He softened his tone to add: "What good could have possibly come of your knowing? I am mortified enough as it is, my friend."

Aragorn's jaw tightened, and he did not hide his hurt when he said: "Does it bring such shame upon you to love a mortal, friend? Do you also scorn my betrothal, then?"

The Man's words stung like a slap in the face. "I say no such thing. It would be my greatest honor, my desire…" Legolas stopped his reckless words, horrified, but it was too late. He had given himself away totally with the few he did say. He blushed to the roots of his hair and turned his face away in shame. His eyelids fluttered and closed, as if to shut out the world around him.

Realizing his mistake, Aragorn rose and went to his friend in earnest. "Forgive me, my brother. Truly, I misunderstood you. I… I never meant to bait you with my words."

Legolas' eyes stayed closed, unable to face his friend of old. Aragorn tried to put his arms around him, and was rebuffed. The Elf held him back with arms of steel, but his voice was weak.

"Don't," he pleaded.

"I spoke hastily, without thinking. The shame is all mine. I am out of sorts, Legolas. You…I had not ever stopped to think what your friendship means to me…what you mean to me. And I cannot think of a reason why I hadn't."

A long paused followed. Only their breathing and the rolling brook were heard. Even the wind seemed to die down expectantly. Legolas opened his eyes defeatedly, but the gaze that he lay upon Aragorn's face was steady and valiant.

"What say ye?" Legolas asked in a dark voice. The Man stood transfixed, his eyes seemingly glued to Legolas' lips. "Aragorn!" the Elf exclaimed, and the future king blushed mightily, coming back from his reverie.

A tempest of feeling assaulted Legolas as Aragorn's stormy eyes focused, unforgiving, on his face, roaming his features and resting on his own eyes once and again. The Ranger's voice came out in a  whisper.

"You are so beautiful." There was an intricate mix of layers of feeling in Aragorn's eyes and voice that had never been there before, not that Legolas had ever seen or heard. He did not know what to think.

"I have been blind, unforgivably so," Aragorn said softly. "How could I not see what my heart showed me every day? How did I miss the longing that filled me in your absence? How did I miss the urgency that accompanied the knowledge of your arrival? How could I not see how my heart leapt with joy every time I would see you? Tell me, Legolas? Gimli was right, someone should have boxed my ears and made me see what is plain to all."

"Gimli?" Legolas asked, perplexed. He was too stunned to make any sense of what he heard.

"Never you mind, mellon nîn," said the Man, blushing slightly. "Have I realized too late how precious you are to my heart, Legolas? How could I hurt you so with my ignorance, when you have brought so much peace to my spirit?"

Strange how these cherished words did not make everything fall into place like Legolas had so often thought they might. He had thought that hearing these words from Aragorn's mouth would mean the end of despair. It had been rather naive of him to think so.

"You have been busy with the uncertain future and the hostile present," the Elf answered.

"Still you defend me, still you make excuses for me." the Man mused. "Legolas, only now I see how you have shielded me, sheltered me. Can you ever forgive this fool Man his lack of foresight? Where is the fabled second sight of the Númenoreans now? Is it not part of my legacy? Who am I, Legolas? An accident of fate? A misfit?"

"You are the heir of Isildur, milord. You are the hope of the Elves. It is in your hands to reclaim the honor of your line, the glory of your forefathers. It is not for you to worry about one Elf's misguided heart," Legolas said with jaw set. His eyes were brighter than the starlight above, and Aragorn did not miss the moist source of their brightness. "I pray you do not belittle my melancholy by treating me like a sighing maiden. I am a warrior, Aragorn. Do not forget it. I know where my duties lie."

"I would rather cut off my sword hand than offend you, Master Greenleaf. Don't you know that everything that you are only makes you dearer to me? I realize now that I have made many wrongful choices, and that I may yet sow the seeds of a dark doom. I pray only that this doom does not soil us both."

"I know that of which you speak. Promises have been made and alliances forged upon the words you have given. Far be it from me to stand in the way of any of them. I am a soldier, Lord Aragorn, first and foremost. Trust me to keep my ills to myself in times of need."

"And what would you say if I told you that I would rather you share them with me? What if I asked you to hide none of those ills from me, that I would gladly shoulder them with you, just as you do my own without regard for your own happiness?"

Legolas' voice lost some of its surety, here and there a slight tremor could be heard. "But you cannot… You cannot ask this of me. The die has been cast, the lots have been set."

"It is our prerogative to use what we know to be foretold to reforge the world, Legolas. What good would a vision of the future be if it did not give us the power to seek the wisdom to change it? What then of free will?"

"I am unsure what it is that you ask of me, Aragorn," Legolas said, his voice thinning. He dared not hope. He dared not think on the implications of Aragorn's words. Perhaps the Man had not thought his statement through before it escaped his lips.

Aragorn's eyes were blazing, hiding nothing. "I ask you, Legolas, to aid me once more, as you have so often done before. Will you not help me change the doom that has been allotted us? I trust not my own ability to do it on my own. If you would find it in your heart to stand with me in this trial; who knows what we might accomplish side by side?"

Legolas was frozen in place. He could not find his voice. He stared helplessly at Aragorn, who still stood open faced before his dearest friend. Inside the Elf there was a scream, and he feared it might escape him in madness, were he to move.

Aragorn read Legolas' face as he faced him valiantly. He had laid himself bare, had lain his heart at Legolas' feet. He would accept his friend's decision with as much alacrity as he could spare. He was not expecting the Elf to open his arms to him after all the pain he had caused him through the years, he just prayed and hoped for a chance to win his way into Legolas' heart.

Both unmoving, they felt the breeze in their hair and on their faces. Aragorn licked his lips, otherwise perfectly hiding his nerves. Finally, the Man could wait no more. He slowly and very deliberately raised his hand, palm up, towards the silent Elf. Legolas moved only his eyes, and they looked upon Aragorn's proffered hand as if it might be a serpent, coiled to strike.

Aragorn spoke, barely above a whisper. "Legolas?"

The low, caressing voice brought a shiver to Legolas' spine, making him sigh.

"Do you know what you ask, son of Arathorn? Can you know what you ask of me?" the golden Elf answered.

"Was I more unfair to you before than I am now? You know I was raised in Rivendell, you know I am well aware of the implications of what I say. I was born and bred to be a statesman as well as a warrior." Aragorn's voice turned harsher as he went along. "I was born and bred to be king, just as you were. Only because you are equally cognizant of what this all means do I dare even whisper any part of this madness to you. Do you think so little of me?"

"If you know it to be madness, why do you ask then? How can you ask me to choose such a fate?" Legolas interjected desperately. "Are you asking me to choose for you?"

"My choice has been made, Legolas Thranduilion! I ask that you make yours!" Aragorn calmed himself with deep breaths before going on, in a soft voice. "Please forgive me once more. Your doubt wounds me. I am telling you that I have chosen you, Legolas, my dearest friend. I am telling you my only desire lies upon your heart. My only happiness lies in the love that I saw in your eyes for the first time today. All my earlier promises are forfeit. Perhaps I am, after all, mad as they say in Bree, but I will not lie to myself on this account."

Aragorn reverently took Legolas hand in his own. The Elf did his best to hide a shiver. The Man spoke, sounding calm and resigned.

"Legolas, I have come to realize in one night that you are fine to me beyond any dreams of love. Perhaps it was always so. I don't expect you to open your arms to me and hand me your heart. I don't know what wounds you are carrying. Love makes me impetuous, but I know exactly what I am getting into when I say these things. I haven't lost my sanity, only my composure. I will do whatever you ask me to do, except renounce you."

The golden Elf looked wild, the tempest inside him barely kept in check. The wind in the grove began picking up. Legolas looked to the water, not trusting his voice while looking into Aragorn's earnest eyes.

"I meant not to belittle your capacities, Elessar, my friend. I am confused, and I knew not what I said. I have carried this confusion in my breast for too long, and it often blinds me." Legolas said, still unable to look his friend in the eye. "I dare not…nay; I cannot be the cause of a deeper rift between Rivendell and my Father's house."

The Elf closed his eyes, misery written on his face. "Please do not ask it of me."

All the blood left Aragorn's face. He closed the remaining distance between them and knelt before Legolas, who looked at him with brimming eyes.

"Cursed am I!" the Man said, sounding forlorn. "It is unforgivable what I have proposed, unforgivable that I have asked. Am I then a mere slave to my passion? Have I forsworn reason altogether? How selfish I am. Legolas… is there anything I can say to you… is there anything I can do to undo this wrong? If I am to abandon all chance of happiness, please tell me that our friendship will not be lost."

A forceful sigh left Legolas, and he managed a bittersweet smile.

"Thinks you that I will let you stumble while there is blood left in my veins? I've loved you all these years without taking offense, have I not? I can do so again," Legolas said, sounding sadder than he wanted. He put one hand softly in Aragorn's hair, meant to soothe.

The Man's arms embraced Legolas' waist before he knew what he was doing. Legolas felt the first of the tears he was holding back slide down his face. Aragorn inhaled deeply, taking in his friend's scent, and the comfort of his lean, strong body. Legolas briefly tried to push Aragorn back, hands on his shoulders, but the Man only tightened his embrace, wordlessly begging to be allowed this comfort. The Elf resumed soothing Aragorn's tangled hair with a heartfelt sigh.

"Looking back," Aragorn began in a hoarse voice, "I see how you have always been there to comfort me, to encourage me. Legolas, my faithful friend."

They stayed silent for a long time after that. Legolas finally lifted Aragorn's face, and his friend freed him. The Elf moved to sit at the riverside. Aragorn followed him and sat beside him, shoulder to shoulder. Legolas gave him a quizzical look and the man showed him a quicksilver ghost of a grin, and gave a little push with his shoulder.

"May I?" he asked softly, to which Legolas only essayed the semblance of a smile before looking back at the flowing waters of the river at their feet.

At length, Legolas spoke. "What will you do now?"

"There is no avoiding it. It will break Arwen's heart."

"What do you mean…? Ah, I meant the Fellowship, dear friend… but what about Arwen? I have given you my answer…" Legolas added nervously.

"And I told you I had made my choice. There was no choice to be made, after I saw the truth unveiled. I cannot ask her to forsake her chance to follow her kin to the Undying Lands when I have nothing to offer her but caring and friendship, in any case."

It took all his strength, but Legolas said, "She would make you happy, Aragorn." His voice quavered, but did not break, and he was proud of the fact that it did not.

"She would try, and I would make her life utter misery against my will. Don't you see? I love her as a friend, I am in awe of her beauty and her strength, but I do not love her, not…"

Legolas looked very confused. "Were you not in love with each other? Did she not give you the gift of the Evenstar?"

"I do not love her," Aragorn repeated, willing Legolas to understand, "not like I love you. I mistook great fondness and caring for love. This has all been revealed to me in one night, in an hour. She is beautiful beyond words, unearthly, and she does quiet the storms within my mind. But she does not make my heart sing, Legolas, she does not make it leap in the cage of my breast. Only you always made me forget my troubles and smile just by being there, no matter how dark my thoughts at the time. The veil has fallen from my eyes, old friend, and I cannot pull it back on. It was always you…I know that now."

"Stop!" Legolas begged, then pressed on blindly, "Your kingdom, does it not need an heir?"

Aragorn's voice rose in distress. Why was it so difficult to make Legolas see reason?

"I would not take the daughter of Elrond for the brood mare of a spent line!" he spat. "No, Legolas. Forgive me. I am beside myself."

"But for Gondor…" Legolas said weakly.

"I cannot allow her to stay here for my sake unto her endless grief. If Gondor's days are counted, then so be it. I will fight for her to my dying breath, but so long as the Dark Lord is vanquished, there shall be hope for Mankind, even if fair Gondor is lost. Even so, there is some of the old blood left in Middle-earth, albeit diluted. I am sure a suitable lass could be found who would gladly assume the mantle of the Queen Mother, if not Wife. That has never been an issue in Gondor, it is in the histories."

Legolas began to shake slightly. "Then I have denied myself for naught?" he said in disbelief. "What are you saying, Aragorn?"

Eyes filled with sudden hope, Aragorn turned to his friend and spoke soothingly.

"Not for naught, my love." The man's arm found its way around Legolas' wide shoulders, "…but mayhaps to excess."

The mere ghost of a chuckle escaped Legolas' lips at Aragorn's wry attempt at humor. It was breathy and shaky, and the smile that accompanied it died as soon as it was born. The Elf's proud shoulders sagged slightly in surrender.

Legolas inclined his head, turning it slowly towards Aragorn. Thin rays of moonlight glided across their faces as they made their way to each other. Their mouths took a long time to tentatively come closer, and closer still.

All the fight had left Legolas, he moved languidly, inevitably towards the Man he loved. Aragorn blessed the Valar for allowing him this moment, and thought of nothing else but those lips that, until a few hours ago, he would have denied ever wanting. Ever so gently, Aragorn reached with his free hand to touch Legolas' face, coaxing it and bringing it closer to his own. He felt Legolas shiver at his first touch, and his breath quickened.

Every second was torture for Aragorn, but he was wary of startling his precious Legolas.

Then their lips touched. Legolas' eyes closed as he gloried on the feeling. He moved shy but hungry lips over Aragorn's, memorizing the shape and the feel of them by touch. Silent sobs came unbidden for all the long pent up desire.

Aragorn was lost. No lips of lass or lad, mortal or Elfkind, had filled him with such awe, he thought out loud. He felt like he could taste the depth of Legolas' love for him in their kiss. He felt Legolas shake, and he pulled the Elf into his arms where they sat.

The Man's tongue finally lost its shyness and demanded entry into Legolas' mouth. The Elf felt it, and fire coursed through his veins. He moaned softly as he felt their questing tongues touch so intimately. He had never felt the desire to kiss this deeply, this desperately.

Aragorn's heart flared. Legolas had oftentimes been his rock, his right hand, a shoulder to lean on. The Elf's moan, his shivering limbs, made him seem so frail that it tore at the Man's heart. This role reversal awakened Aragorn's protective instincts. He kissed his friend with reverence and with sweet desire, he gave him the comfort of his strong arms.

An age later, way too soon, they broke apart. Their hands still roamed, tracing musculature, all curves and angles under their nimble fingers. They were lying on their sides in the grass among the flowers, eyes memorizing each other's face.

Their journey had been long and hard, and it was far from over. Their bodies were starved for touch, and both warriors were flushed with desire, breathing hard, by the time they stopped kissing. They could feel their combined heat rising, the tantalizing feeling of hardness meeting hardness through cloth and leather. Their rising lust gave poignancy to the helpless feeling of love they were already drowning in.

"Oh, Elbereth…" Legolas whispered.

"Ah, Legolas, I love thee. I love thee. Can you forgive my stupidity of all these years?" Aragorn teared up; so full of love was he for this Elf who had been his friend almost as long as he could remember. Only Elrond had known him longer.

"Don't speak," Legolas said breathlessly, "but kiss me again."

Aragorn smiled broadly through the mist in his eyes, and pulled Legolas into his embrace once more.

THE END