Part 19

Posted: October 2003
Author: Inwe Saralonde

*****

‘I know you think that I shouldn't
still love you or tell you that
but if I didn't say it well
I'd still have felt it,
where's the sense in that
I promise I'm not trying to make your life harder
or return to where we were but
I will go down with this ship
and I won't put my hands up and surrender
there will be no white flag above my door,
I'm in love and always will be'

‘White Flag' – Dido
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Legolas' POV

I watched as Aragorn slowly approached me, a smile on his lips. I started backing away, till the back of my legs hit a chair, and I found myself sitting in it. Aragorn placed his hands on the arm rests on either side of me, effectively pinning me in place.

"No more games, Legolas," he said. "Why were you so determined to attack Haldir?"

I looked at Aragorn; he was no longer smiling, his eyes were like steel. "Legolas?" The voice was soft, measured, but it brooked no argument.

"You know why, Aragorn!" I snarled back, my anger at Haldir giving me voice.

"So what happened is now entirely Haldir's fault?" Aragorn leaned down further; I couldn't escape his gaze. "Haldir did not deserve for you to attack him the way you did, let alone threaten him. Nor was he entirely to blame. However, at the time of said incident," there was a mocking smile on Aragorn's face, "I only had the word of others telling me that you loved me. As you had the word of others that you loved me – am I correct?" I nodded.

"Yet I find myself being condemned because I ‘allowed' Haldir to try and seduce me. Yes, I *was* attracted to him – I concede that. And no, I did not resist as strongly as I should have initially. But I was made to feel that I ‘betrayed' you, yet you were not entirely sure of my feelings for you because you did not really know what they were. I have had Elladan accusing me of being ‘dense' and ‘naïve'. I have had your father tell me in no uncertain terms that ‘if this sort of thing happened again', I would feel the full weight of his wrath." Aragorn gave a snort of disgust.

"You played the injured party, I the guilty one, in this whole – how shall I put it? – charade. And to what purpose? What have you gained from all of this? Hmm?"

I cringed under his barrage of words. He was right. In the end, no one was really to blame. Not Haldir, not Aragorn. I had, in effect, blown the whole thing out of proportion by acting the way I did.

"To answer your question, Aragorn, I gained very little out of it except unnecessary heartache. But," I said, straightening in the chair, "you did not exactly help matters by behaving the way *you* did – taking the blame on your shoulders, accepting when I said that you were weak."

Angrily, I pushed against him, forcing him away from the chair so that I could stand. He looked at me warily. "You are not weak, Aragorn. You never have been," I said softly. "It was your strength that attracted me to you; your ability to remain cool in a crisis – many men would run, but you stand your ground, never yielding. I was wrong to call you weak – so very wrong."

Aragorn stood there, hands by his side, his expression inscrutable.

"I'm glad to hear that, Legolas," he said. "At least I have *one* redeeming feature in your eyes." His tone was slightly mocking now. "Tell me, what were the other things you mentioned in our little discussion in the library? Let me see…ah, yes, honesty I believe was one thing you said, and courageous – and I would have to be that, coming here to brave your father and whoever else in order to talk to you, considering how *guilty* I was, hmm?" Aragorn's voice was scathing now, and I watched in trepid fascination as he stalked the room.

"And one more thing…now, what was it? Oh, of course – integrity! The integrity that was possibly misplaced? Lost? Care to advise me, Legolas, how I *regain* my integrity?" He stopped, and turned to look at me.

"I…I'm sorry," I whispered. I began to walk towards him, afraid to do so, but needing to. He watched me as I approached him.

I stopped in front of him, looking into his eyes, trying to see some sort of emotion in them. But they were hard, unyielding, giving nothing away. I tried to think of something to say, but what? That I was afraid of losing him before I really had him? We stood there for what seemed an interminable amount of time, the silence surrounding us like a shroud.

Keeping my gaze locked with his, I tentatively raised my hand to touch his face, my fingers tracing a gentle path down his cheek, across the stubble that was there, moving across to rest gently on his mouth. His lips felt so soft…I wanted desperately to kiss him, but I didn't know if he would welcome it.

Aragorn closed his eyes briefly; when he re-opened them, they seemed more blue, more gentle. I took hope from that and I leant it, replacing my fingers with my lips. His lips felt as soft – nay, softer – under my lips than under my fingers. I kept the kiss chaste; but it was hard – I had dreamed of doing this for so long that it took all my willpower to stop it from being any more. Breaking the kiss, I looked at him, trying to gauge his reaction.

Now it was Aragorn's turn to raise his hand and to place it gently on my face, his thumb gently stroking my cheek. I watched in amazement as his eyes filled with tears before he whispered: "Oh, Legolas…" He then dropped his hand, turned away from me and walked out the room, leaving me standing there in stunned disbelief…

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Aragorn's POV

I watched Legolas cringe under my words. It was if all my pent-up frustration with this whole situation was finally finding release. I spoke true when I said it had been eating away at me; I began to wonder why on earth I had allowed myself to be the scapegoat in this. Yes, Haldir approached me; yes, I responded to his advances. Yes, the twins told me that Legolas loved me because he told them, but *he* had not told *me* before then, anymore than *I* had told *him*.

In the end, I no longer knew – nor cared – who was right or who was wrong. I just wanted this resolved one way or the other.

He pushed me away, accusing me of not helping matters by behaving as I did – accepting the guilt, that I was *weak*. More fool me, then.

My emotions were in a turmoil, yet I strived to keep my expression neutral – almost hard, even. I had said my piece, now it was Legolas' turn.

I heard him say ‘I'm sorry' before he approached me. We stood there, looking at each other, not saying anything. When he reached out with his hand to touch my face, I held my breath. His fingers ended up gently resting on my lips, and I closed my eyes.

After I opened them his fingers were replaced with his lips – a soft, gentle kiss but, somehow, filled with promise. He broke the kiss and looked at me, obviously waiting for some sort of reaction. In all honesty, I was stunned. It was not what I was expecting after the words that I had spoken.

I raised my hand to cup his face, my thumb gently stroking his cheek. For some reason I felt my eyes fill with tears. I could only say: "Oh, Legolas…" before turning and leaving the room. If he had only yelled at me, been angry with me…I could have dealt with that.

Feeling totally confused by my own reactions, I made my way back to my room.

*****

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