Making It Right

Part 7

Posted: April 2003
Author: Kharessa Bloodrose

*****

Time had passed since Helm's Deep, and Aragorn had only spoken once more to Legolas about their conversation prior to the battle. In response to a raised, questioning eyebrow, Aragorn had said simply, "If words are not sufficient to prove me honest, perhaps actions will be."

It was a strange courtship, if courtship it was. There was no time for soft words and gentle kisses, and Aragorn did not know if such would be appropriate anyway. More pressing matters engaged the time of both man and elf. The journey towards Minas Tirith was long and arduous. While Theoden mustered the Riders of Rohan, they, along with a group of Aragorn's kinsmen, rangers from the north, set out. Elrond's sons, Elladan and Elrohir, had joined them, and their company was more than welcome to the Mirkwood elf.

"He is a strong and noble man." Elladan remarked, leaning against the rail of the corsair.

"You think so?" Legolas glanced at him curiously.

"Aye. Not the little Estel I had grown accustomed to." The handsome elf's face split in a grin as he exchanged an amused look with his brother. Elrohir laughed.

"I knew that our Estel would be King of Men, but always it amazes me how swiftly mortals change, grow… " Elrohir's face sobered. "He led us on the Paths of The Dead, and the Dead answered his call."

Legolas shivered. "'Twas not a comfortable journey."

"No, ‘twas not… but tell me, Legolas, what do you make of the future King of Gondor? You sound as if you have your doubts."

The blond elf's eyes narrowed, his gaze flitting between the identical warriors before him. Their expressions were open, friendly, yet Legolas saw the trap. How to tell them that their sister's fiancée had spoken to him of love?

"I do not know, Elladan."

It was Elrohir who spoke slyly, shockingly into the quiet. "He loves you, you know." Legolas's eyes widened, and the twins laughed at his look of surprise.

"We know. Arwen knows. She's known since the council meeting when she hid on the balcony and watched him looking at you. When you rose to defend him, the look in his eyes told all."

"That is ridiculous!" Legolas scoffed. "He did not even know me."

"Perhaps it was interest then, not love." Elrohir waved a dismissive hand. Legolas' jaw tightened.

"And so, what thinks the Lady Arwen?"

Elrohir glanced at his brother and Elladan frowned, searching for words. "She was… somewhat disturbed. At first. Know you that she truly loves this man?"

Legolas nodded curtly, eyes scanning the waves. "He says that he truly loves her, as well."

Elrohir nodded enthusiastically, and Elladan continued. "Aye, there's the rub. The bond between them is no simple thing, not a matter of mouthed words and hopes as is the case in mortal relationships. She feels it always, as does he. And she says that his love has never wavered."

Legolas spun on his heel, glaring at the dark haired elf. "Yet you tell me he loves me?"

Elrohir shrugged. "He does. ‘Tis not unheard of." He tucked a stray strand of hair back behind his ear idly, giving Legolas a knowing look. "And you love him."

"You know not of what you speak." The words came out in an icy hiss. "I am a warrior, a prince of my people. I am not for… taking!"

Identical expressions of puzzlement met his eyes. "When did love become a matter of taking, Legolas?" Elladan inquired softly.

"You do not know him as I do."

"He is our foster brother." Elrohir frowned. "I daresay we know him better than you do."

Elladan cast his brother an impatient glance. "I doubt if we know him in quite the way Legolas is implying." Elrohir stifled a snort, and Legolas glared at him chillingly.

"I do not know him… ‘twas the Ring that made him…" He stammered, face flushing. The brothers exchanged quick, worried looks.

"The Ring made him do what?" Elladan asked carefully.

"Never mind. ‘Tis not important." His hands slipped unconsciously to his knives, and Elrohir raised a questioning eyebrow towards his brother. "What is important is that he is a mortal, doomed to die. That he is promised to Arwen, your sister. That he is not always the strong and noble man you think him. He is weak, like all men." The words pushed past his lips in angry chunks, denying the remembered glow of tenderness he'd felt in Aragorn's touch.

"Love does not consult reason, Legolas." Elladan said softly.

Legolas brushed his words aside impatiently. "I've had enough of this. I will not speak of it further."

Elladan sighed, shrugging at his brother. "As you wish, Legolas."

Aragorn lay on the narrow bed, eyes closed, feeling the lulling motion of the waves. The cabin was small and dark, but it allowed him peace and privacy. That was something he'd had little of during these long months since the quest had begun, and it was something that he desperately needed. His destiny was calling him, pulling him tenaciously forward. In the end it seemed that his fate possessed a stronger attraction than even the One Ring.

He did not want to think about that, but he could not avoid it. He had tried to in those first few days after Lothlorien, but it was not in his nature to run from his fears. Aragorn had seen what Legolas had begun to recognize on the Plains of Rohan. The Ring had been able to seduce him to lust and anger only because there had been feelings within him to twist. He had told himself that what he had felt for the elven archer was admiration, respect, friendship. The Ring had known differently, though, had seen in his soul that which he had not wished to admit. It had seen love, and had used that secret against him.

Legolas… Arwen… He touched the Evenstar pendant lying against his chest, caressed it with gentle affection. He could feel her love for him when he laid his hand upon it, and his own love had remained true, but now there was also Legolas. He had no token from the archer, nothing he could lay his hand upon. Still, if Arwen was his silver moon, then Legolas had become his sun. Two sides of a coin, inseparable. He did not want to separate them.

He had courted Arwen primarily with words. She was older than he, and he had to admit to himself that she was far wiser. The appearance of sweet fragility was deceiving; she had been the Evenstar of her people centuries before he had even been born. If he had not been fostered in Rivendell, he knew he would have never had the courage to approach her. As it was, she had been someone familiar rather than someone to be in awe of. Beautiful, perfect, but not untouchable. So he had courted her with words over meals, during walks in the gardens, in her parlor, at picnics by the river side.

In her was the softness he craved, the promise of peace. There was no place for war, no place for violence and bloodshed, in the presence of the Lady Arwen. She made him believe in safety and stability. When he stood by her side peaceful solutions seemed possible, and when he dreamt of her his dreams were of a prosperous kingdom and a loving home. They were the sort of dreams that he would never admit to his fellows, not even to Elladan and Elrohir.

Legolas was something different, though not altogether different. Like all elves, he took no pleasure in slaughter and bloodshed. He did not shy away when violence became necessary, however, and his prowess in battle was beyond reproach. Aragorn trusted the elf implicitly in battle, found him to be a vision of terrible beauty as he sent arrow after arrow forth with breathtaking accuracy. Legolas understood the heat of battle, understood what it was like to take impossible risks. He knew what it was to not only make the decisions, but to carry them out. He knew what it was to force oneself forward against all reason and sanity, compelled only by one's word, one's honor.

He had often thought that elves were feline in their beauty, but if Arwen was a cat in repose, then Legolas was a cat poised to strike. Beautiful and deadly. Such a being could not be courted with words and dainties, Aragorn knew that. Even so, he was not so totally different from Arwen. He was quiet, introspective. A good listener. He listened and he watched, and in that was the key. Legolas would listen to his words, and then wait to see if they would be borne out.

It was unknown territory for Aragorn, but he was not one to shy away from a challenge. There were no sweet words and stolen kisses since their run through Rohan. He treated Legolas the way he would want to be treated – as a trusted friend, a comrade, a warrior. Aragorn strove to show him in actions rather than words that he was not desirous of that which the Ring had seduced him to, did not want a submissive, docile toy. The expression in his eyes was often tender, his lips curved in a smile when the lovely archer was present. His behavior, however, demonstrated his trust and respect. He did not play at protecting the elf, or shadowing his steps. Aragorn was only himself, and he watched and waited for the time when words might come to bear again.

*****

previous | Chapter Index | next

If you enjoyed this story, please send feedback to: Kharessa Bloodrose