Anywhere On My Own

Title: Anywhere On My Own
Author: Orchyd Constyne
Characters: Aragorn/Legolas
Beta: Silvara, the most patient beta in existence!

*****

"Lying my way from you
(No no turning back now)
I wanna be pushed aside so let me go
(No no turning back now)
Let me take back my life, I'd rather be all alone
(No turning back now)
Anywhere on my own cuz I can see
(No no turning back now)
The very worst part of you is me"
Lying From You - Linkin Park

I.

Legolas lay in the narrow bed, hidden in the depths of the Hornburg. It was a simple guard's chamber, nothing elaborate or lavish about it. The small hearth burned brightly with a fire, chasing out the chill, though Legolas did not feel it. The warmth was for his bedmate. They had retreated to the room after the battle, bathing each other with the bit of cloth and bowls of water they found waiting in the chamber. The cool water had chilled his lover, and Legolas had set about warming the room. Shortly after he had lit the fire, he felt the strong, calloused hand encircle his waist; thumbs caressing the smooth, unblemished skin of his stomach.

In the semi-darkness, the Elven-Prince smiled and pulled the heavy figure at his side closer to him. He had never known another to set light to his desires as this one did; a simple touch would enflame him, and the archer lost all thought for his duties beside his companions. In the stolen moments they shared, Legolas forgot all but his lover. His taste, smell, and feel were imprinted on his memory. A pang of regret and heartache stabbed through the Elf's heart, knowing that this bliss would not last. He had known the situation when he had taken his lover, had known they would part.

But, in the sated afterglow of their lovemaking and the euphoric relief of surviving Helm's Deep, Legolas cared not for what the future would hold for him. He reveled in the present, inhaling deeply the fragrant scent of Aragorn, how the man smelled of sweet herbs and sharp citrus. And their smell, the smell of their love, hung heavy in the room. Yes, he loved the Man and he knew the Man loved him -- had known it from the moment they first lay together.

*****

Legolas closed his eyes and thought back on the vivid memory of that night. The Hobbits had already fallen asleep and Legolas could hear the snoring of the Dwarf. The Gondorian Man was moaning in a fitful sleep and Legolas sat off from the group, deep in his own thoughts of the loss of Mithrandir. They would arrive in Lothlorien the next day, and Aragorn was relieved. Legolas sang softly to himself, trying to drive the sadness from his heart, thinking of the warm fields near his home and the comforting embrace of his father.

"Legolas?"

The Elf turned to face the direction the voice had come from. He had heard Aragorn's approach, had hoped the Man was simply walking off some tension. They had been friends for many years. Legolas remembered teaching a very young and hopeful Estel how to wield a bow. They grow so fast, he thought, looking at the tall, gruff human who was taking a seat beside him. Legolas leaned back against the tree, his gaze still distant and deep in thought, only now those thoughts drifted through the many years he had been a companion to the Ranger.

"Legolas?" he said again, this time putting a warm, heavy hand on the Elf's thigh.

Legolas did not know why, but the touch had shot a spark of desire through him. He pushed the feeling aside, knowing that he could not take the Man as a lover: not now, not ever. He was betrothed to Arwen, who he had called 'friend' for as long as he had been Elladan and Elrohir's playmate as an Elfling. But, there was that rebellious thought deep inside him, the voice Legolas tried very hard to keep at bay. The voice spoke of shirking his duties, of his responsibilities, of his ethics and honor. Told him to turn to the Man and embrace him, whisper the unspoken words of love...

"Meldir? Are you not well?" The tone in Aragorn's voice brought Legolas from his reverie and he turned a soft smile to the man.

"I am as well as can be expected, Aragorn. I was simply lost in thought."

Aragorn returned the radiant being's smile, his heart lightening with the musical quality Legolas' voice always had. "Would you mind my company?"

"I have never minded your company. I do believe, more often than not, I would seek you out among the trees when visiting fair Imladris." Another wistful look crossed the fair features and Aragorn resisted the urge to reach out and wrap the Elf in his arms.

They sat in companionable silence, the Man's hand still resting on the Elf's slender thigh, both trying to ignore the touch. Finally, Aragorn increased the pressure of his hand, trying to impart his desires without words. Legolas' wide, luminescent eyes shifted to meet his and Aragorn made his decision. He began to lean in, to capture the Elf's lips with his own, but was stopped when Legolas placed a single finger against his mouth.

"Nay, Aragorn."

The Ranger pulled back, his brow furrowed with puzzlement. "Why?"

Legolas smiled sadly. "You are not mine to have, meldir. We have long been friends, Aragorn, and I would not lose one such as you because of a rash decision on our part."

"This is not a rash decision. I choose to kiss you."

"And I choose to not allow such an action."

They regarded one another for many moments, each gauging the other. Aragorn moved toward his friend again and this time caught up Legolas' hand with his own and his lips met the startled ones of the Elf.

For a brief moment, Legolas struggled, but he did not truly wish to stop the kiss. This felt right; it felt good. His eyes slowly closed, and he opened his mouth, inviting Aragorn to explore his recesses. In that moment, the Prince knew he had made a choice that would not end well for either of them. He knew, just as his kind seemed to know, that the friendship he had cherished for so many years would never again be.

And he slipped his tongue into the mouth of his soon-to-be-lover and allowed Aragorn to push him clumsily to the ground.

*****

Legolas opened his eyes and found the stormy grey eyes of his lover hovering over him. "You awake, melethen," he said, his heart swelling with the look of adoration that came to the troubled eyes.

"Aye, I wake, seron vell." Aragorn brought his lips down and bestowed a gentle, chaste kiss to the slightly bruised flesh of Legolas' mouth. "You exhaust me. Did you sleep well?"

"I rested, yes."

"What were you just thinking?" Aragorn rested his head in the hollow of Legolas' shoulder, listening to the steady pounding of the blond's heart.

"Of past times." Legolas watched the room become lighter as the sun rose higher. "We should rise, o lazy one. We have been missing for over two hours."

"Why should we rise? I find the company very engaging."

Legolas sighed softly. "We must rise, for we must continue on with our journey. As much as I do enjoy holding you as I am now, Gimli, Gandalf, and Theoden will be awaiting us in the main hall. We must go with Gandalf to Isengard, unless you have changed your mind." Legolas looked down into the Man's face, which had become closed off and pinched.

"No, you are right. We must rise."

The two lovers dressed quickly, strapping on their weapons and stealing one last, lingering kiss before leaving the room and seeking the Wizard.

*****

He stood on the bow of the ship, his heart heavy and mind deep in thought. He felt a warm weight on his shoulder and turned to see Elrohir standing beside him, Elladan like a shadow just behind his twin. "Legolas," the younger Peredhel said into the sea spray.

"Elrohir, Elladan. Is there a reason you seek to break my solitude?" Legolas turned his troubled eyes back to the sea, breathing deep the salt laden air.

"Gwador," Elladan said, moving to stand on Legolas' other side, "we can sense your melancholy down in the depths of the ship."

Legolas chuckled. "You have inherited your Grandmother's ability to see, have you?"

"And Adar's," Elrohir offered.

The three stood on the creaking ship, each staring off into the vast darkness. None moved or spoke, each lost in their own thoughts. It was Elladan whose voice was heard first.

"We go to war, cousin. We are kin, and we stand with you and our foster brother. But, rushing into this battle with such heaviness about you does little aid for any of us."

"We are hardly cousins, Elladan."

Elrohir stared at Legolas hard. "But we are. You know this. You are descended from Galathil, Ata'da's brother. You are very much our blood kin, and even if you were not, we would still be standing here offering to ease your worries."

Legolas crossed his arms, knowing they were right. The three of them had played as Elflings; Elrond had helped Legolas' father after Oropher's fall, giving the sad Greenwood King a place to send his only son until Greenwood was no longer a place of mourning. "Ease my worries? Are you sure you are able to do such a feat?"

"We can but try, gwador." Elladan smiled at Legolas, drawing him down to sit upon the rough deck. "What were you thinking as we came up?"

"I was thinking on Aragorn."

Elrohir nodded. "His desire for you is palpable. One could almost say he loves you." Legolas' head snapped up and he narrowed his eyes. "Did you think we, of all those in his service, would not notice? When you are in a room with him, Prince, his eyes never leave your fair face. Did you not know?"

Legolas looked away, his eyes dark with thought. "I was thinking back to Lorien, when we spent the month beneath the mellyrn and allowed our broken spirits to heal. I spent much time with Aragorn then."

"Was that when this all began?" Elladan moved slightly over, taking his twin's hand in his own. "Out of grief?"

The Sinda shook his head. "When it began does not matter to where my thoughts just were. Know only that it was after the fall of Mithrandir, but before we crossed the borders in the Golden Wood." The Peredhil nodded, listening intently to their friend. "It was near the end of our stay there that my thoughts journeyed to. I climbed into a mallorn and rested my head against her warm trunk. My heart was indeed lighter since the passing of Gandalf, the Lady having eased my troubled spirit. I was singing to the great tree when Haldir found me and asked to join me in my song.

"We shared silence for a long while, watching Anor make her trip through mid-day. He then asked if I was aware of the Man's affections for me."

*****

"Haldir, I do not believe it is your place to ask such a question." Legolas kept his gaze steady, his voice even and strong.

"I have every right to ask it of you, Prince. But, you need not answer, for your statement gives you away. You do know and return those affections." Haldir smiled and leaned back on his hands, balancing perfectly on the wide branch.

"Are you suggesting he is in love with me and I with him?" Legolas scoffed. "Haldir, you may be the best Guardian Lord Celeborn has, but you seem to be seeing things that do not exist."

"Do I?" Haldir squinted his eyes and smirked. "I seem to remember a certain Mirkwood Elf who would look to me the way Aragorn looks to you..."

Legolas smiled and looked away. "I was young, I thought I loved you."

Haldir feigned hurt. "You never loved me? I am crushed. All this time, I thought I had captured the heart of the Crown Prince and he simply was waiting for me to come to my senses."

The Sindar prince was now laughing with abandon. "I think you have taken *leave* of your senses, Guardian."

They slowly sobered and Haldir turned dark, serious eyes on the Elf-Prince. It had been those eyes, such a contrast to the pale, silver hair and alabaster skin, that had caught his fancy first. He had been young, but not so young not to know love. Yes, he had looked with wide eyes at the elder Elf, following him about; his world had been Haldir for the few short years he had fostered in Lothlorien. "He is Arwen Undomiel's, Haldir. He can never be mine and I do not wish him to be. I do not love him, at least, not as you imply. He has a destiny to fulfill that cannot include me."

Haldir sighed and inched closer on the branch until he was a handsbreadth from the younger Sinda. "Our kind, Legolas, do not enter into such relations on whims. There is more to this than you would even admit to yourself. You were his dear friend, as you are mine, but you did what I could not. Now, that friendship is lost. You will never gain it again. And when the time comes to break his heart -- be it for his own good or not -- you will lose his trust and it will not be easily regained. I speak from a pool of wisdom, hard earned from years of mistakes. Do not tread this ground lightly, fair Prince, for it will not be only the King's heart to bleed.

"But, he will have the Evenstar for comfort, for her love is deep and great and will forgive him this trespass. What of you, mellonen vrûn? Who will ease your pain? This pain you will have brought upon yourself?"

*****

"What was your answer to Lord Haldir?" asked Elladan, squeezing Legolas' hand gently in his own. During the telling of the tale, his cousin had moved close to him and his brother, seeking comfort and contact. Legolas' golden head rested against the Imladris heir's shoulder, midnight strands mingling with honeyed silk.

"I had no answer," he mumbled against Elladan's neck. Elrohir looked up from his brother's lap, watching the sad azure eyes regarding him. Legolas' slim hand reached down and stroked the dark waves of Elrohir's hair, lost in his thoughts. "I still have no answer."

*****

They would come to dock by mid-morning. Legolas knew the sun has just barely risen and he shifted in the tight embrace of Aragorn's arms. His eyes focused on the grey gaze of his lover.

"How long have you lain there, watching me in reverie?"

Aragorn leaned in and placed several kisses on the relaxed features of the Prince in his arms. "Long enough. You are so beautiful, meleth."

Legolas felt his face flush slightly. "As are you."

The Sinda pulled Aragorn down to him, flicking his tongue against the Ranger's lips. Aragorn parted his lips and Legolas dipped his tongue into the warmth of the Man's mouth. He watched Aragorn's eyes slip closed and he marveled at the love he felt when they shared these tender moments.

When the kiss ended, Aragorn sat up, resting his head on his hand. "I love you, Legolas."

Legolas smiled and stroked the rugged stubble of the Man's cheek. "I know," he whispered.

"Do you remember when I first said that to you?"

"Aye, I do."

*****

Legolas panted, his heart racing in his chest and his body aching with his spent passion. He pulled back from Aragorn, sliding off the Man and curling his body around his lover. He ran his fingers through the damp tresses and smiled languidly at Aragorn.

The Ranger turned his face to him and leaned in for a quick kiss. "I love you, ernilen," he murmured against the bruised lips of his Elven- lover.

Legolas' eyes went wide as he wrapped his arms around the exhausted human. Soon, he felt the deep and even breathing signaling that Aragorn had fallen asleep.

Haldir had been right. This was something Legolas had not taken into account. He had thought that Aragorn was in love with the Evenstar and would not fall in love with him. This was a difficult situation, one that Legolas found himself at a loss with. He pulled away from Aragorn and quickly dressed himself in his leggings. He made his way through the woods, away from the tented area the Fellowship had called 'home' since arriving in Lothlorien. He came to a wide clearing with a small stream running through it. Slipping his leggings off once again, he entered the knee-deep stream and bathed.

His thoughts raced, a whirlwind centered on three words spoken in the languor after passion. Could he trust the Man's statement? It was made in that space between sleep and wakefulness. Legolas shook his head; he knew Aragorn and the Ranger would not have spoken the words if he did not feel them. The future King of Gondor was in love with a wayward Elven Prince. Legolas knew this was not right or fair to Aragorn, Arwen or himself. He never should have let the Man kiss him. But, he had, he thought as he pulled his leggings back on. He had made the choice for all three of them in that moment and now he had to live with the results.

And the results were that Aragorn would be torn in two when his destiny came to meet him. Legolas vowed he would not make the Man choose. Arwen had made *that* choice for all three of them years ago on Cerin Amroth when she chose to live and die for her love. He could not take from her that small comfort, that love she had embraced. No, he would never let Aragorn give up the Evenstar for him, for an Elf who had gambled with the heart of a Human and lost.

As he returned to Aragorn and their bed on the ground, he did wonder who would be there for him when this was all over. Who would comfort him and offer him the love he so desired? The love he had found with a mortal whose heart was not his to possess?

*****

Legolas blinked slowly, coming back from the vivid memory. He smiled up at his lover. "Aye, I do remember." He watched Aragorn's brow furrow with thought and the Elf cocked his head slightly to the side in an unspoken question.

"You have never returned the sentiment, Legolas. Why?"

The Elf looked away. He had hoped Aragorn would never ask why those words never passed his lips, but now he had. What was he to say? He could not lie, could he? Then again, was it a lie? Yes, it was. He felt it in the slight flutter of his heart when he looked at the Man. He felt it in the heat those grey, stormy eyes could pull from him with a simple look. He felt it in his very being. He loved the Man, he had let a simple way to seek physical release and comfort with a dear friend blossom into love. "I have never said those words, Aragorn, because I do not feel them. If I do not feel them, it would be wrong to let you think otherwise. You are not mine, and I have guarded my heart from you. I will not love you in the way you believe you love me."

Aragorn drew back, his entire being defensive and hurt. "You do not believe my words?"

"I believe you think you feel them. I do not believe you have lied to me all this time." Like I have you, he wanted to add, but swallowed the words bitterly.

"You think I do not know my own heart." Aragorn sat up and pulled away from his lover.

"I think you have forgotten who you truly love because she is not laying here with you and I am. I do not think you less for it, Aragorn. You are a cherished companion and friend, and I would hate for that to be complicated and lost because of this." Legolas sat up and reached out to touch the Man's cheek. Aragorn pulled away and glared at him. "Aragorn, do not be like this. I do love you, just not as you love Arwen. I will defend you with my life and I will love you with all that I can, but I cannot lose my heart to you. Please, understand..." For the first time in centuries, Legolas felt tears rise to his eyes. He did not want to lose this valiant being, he wanted to keep him close, wanted to hold him for the rest of his short life, but he could not. It was not his place, was not his right. Aragorn had to let him go in the end.

~~~~~~~~~~

II.

He had been waiting for Aragorn, watching the sun slowly set and then the sky lighten again as dawn approached. They had survived the great battle on the Fields of the Pelennor, and Aragorn, along with the sons of Elrond, had been called to aid the sick and dying. Legolas had taken his leave of Gimli and had come to wait for his weary lover to return. He did not believe that they would have many stolen moments from now until they either died or defeated Sauron, and he wished one last moment with his beloved.

Although, there was more than his anticipated lack of private space for himself and Aragorn. It had to end. It was time to end the intimate aspect of their relationship and for Legolas to attempt to salvage what he could of their tattered friendship. He felt like a criminal, stealing all these seconds with his lover, whispering lies to him in the hopes of sparing the King's heart. It was over. Legolas knew it was over the moment he had told Aragorn he did not love him. The look on Aragorn's face had nearly broken his heart in two. He could not emotionally afford to carry this on until the inevitable conclusion, so he had chosen to end it much sooner than he had thought.

Legolas chuckled to himself. Than he had thought? He had not thought to continue to share his body with the Ranger beyond their first, awkward coupling outside the Lothlorien border. He had thought to take and offer comfort. Instead, he had gone to Aragorn, and allowed Aragorn to come to him, over and over. There was no turning back now. This would be the last time he would lay with Aragorn as a lover. He knew he should confide this decision to Aragorn, allow him to burn this last time in his memory as Legolas would, but the Elf-Prince knew that the human would rally against the decision, that he would plead and look at him with those soulful eyes and Legolas would relent. He was weak, he was in love, and it could not continue.

It was in the pre-dawn light that Legolas first heard the heavy and fatigued footsteps approaching the tent. He lifted his head and suppressed a sharp gasp of surprise. Aragorn stood just inside the flap of the tent, his eyes vacant with exhaustion, and his shoulders slumped with what seemed like the weight of the world.

"Legolas?" he asked, his voice rough from speaking for hours to dozens of people.

"Aye, my Lord," Legolas answered, standing in one graceful, fluid movement. He crossed the small space swiftly and took Aragorn into his arms. The Man fell heavily against him and took in a deep breath, his senses flooding with the clean spring breeze that always followed the Elf.

Aragorn pulled back and Legolas smiled almost imperceptibly. His slender, pale hands moved to the front of Aragorn's dirty shirt and deft fingers untied the laces. He slipped the garment off his lover's shoulders, his hands gliding over the planes and curves of the Man's well-muscled chest. Legolas raised his eyes, smoky cobalt in the low light, and leaned his lips in to gently kiss the tired Man. He ran his cool hands down the soft surface of Aragorn's stomach and rested his hands on the waistband of his leggings.

Legolas watched Aragorn's eyes shift from tired dullness to swirling desire. "Do you want me?" whispered the Elf.

The dark-haired Man leaned in to capture the Elf's lips in a searing kiss, his tongue delving into the deep recesses of Legolas' mouth. Legolas groaned, tilting his head and pushed his own tongue into the Ranger's mouth, dueling for dominance. Aragorn gave in, allowing Legolas to control their kiss and was pushed gently, but firmly, back and around to the mound of furs they would sleep in that day. While then slowly made their way to the sleeping area, Legolas unlaced Aragorn's leggings and caressed the Man's flanks, his lips never leaving his lover's.

When Legolas had Aragorn spread out on the bedding, he broke the kiss and slithered down to remove the King's boots and then peeled off his leggings. Aragorn watched, enraptured, as Legolas divested himself of his clothing and then joined him on the soft furs. Legolas sat at Aragorn's feet, picking up one and pressing his fingers deeply into the arch. Aragorn groaned as the aching muscle was massaged, feeling his body begin to unfurl. Legolas lovingly stroked the tension from Aragorn's sore feet, then kissed each ankle, snaking his tongue out to lap at the tender skin and pulling another moan from the Man.

Legolas inched up between Aragorn's legs, stopping when he reached midway. He massaged the tight muscles of Aragorn's legs, his well- schooled hands easing all his aches quickly. He also noticed that Aragorn's arousal had not abated, and he smiled softly at the relaxed form that lay before him. It was when his hands skated up the now loose thighs that Aragorn's eyes slid open, hazy grey meeting smoldering blue. Legolas crawled up and gently pressed his length against Aragorn's, tasting the Man's mouth in a slow and leisurely kiss. If this was to be his last time with the one he loved, then he would take his time and memorize every nuance of the King.

Aragorn lay passive beneath him, allowing Legolas to do as he would. Legolas began to kiss his way down the Man's throat, gently nipping and tasting the warm flesh. He was careful not to mar the bronze skin; as much as he wanted to mark Aragorn as his, he could not. While Aragorn squirmed against him, Legolas drew his tongue over the sensitive skin covering the Ranger's collarbone. The Elf kept his hands busy by stroking up and down Aragorn's sides, feeling his own desire twitch and throb with each moan and whimper he evoked from the mass beneath him. Legolas' mind raced with conflicting need. He wanted never to let go, never to give up what he had found with this human. Aragorn's soul had been laid bare before the Sinda and he had loved the Man for all he was and would be. His heart ached with the knowledge that he would lose that, lose this.

He bit back bitter tears and focused his attention on the stiff peak of Aragorn's nipple. He laved the tender nub with his tongue, drawing it into his mouth and suckling steadily, using the fingers of one free hand to pinch and roll the other hard pebble. Aragorn bucked against him, pleas slipping from his mouth, slurring together in his desperate heat tempered with his bone-weary exhaustion. Legolas continued his erotic labors upon Aragorn's chest until he could simply blow upon the heated flesh and cause the Man to cry out with need. Legolas smirked and moved down the trembling body, inhaling and treasuring the musk of Aragorn. He nuzzled the coarse hair that grew about the base of Aragorn's arousal and planted his hands on the tense thighs. The Prince licked his lips and leaned down, moving his tongue over the fervent length of Aragorn's shaft. His eyes closed and a shiver passed through his body when Aragorn let out a keening cry, thrusting up against his mouth.

When he reached the dark head of Aragorn's cock, Legolas slid his tongue over the slit that held several drops of clear fluid. He savored the salty, slick taste and then engulfed the entire length of the Man in one, smooth motion. Aragorn arched up, his back leaving the furs, and he cried out at the sudden moist heat and the fierce suction. The Wood Elf did not spend much of his time on his oral pursuits but released the thick column of flesh after only a few strokes of his mouth. He continued his downward exploration and bathed Aragorn's tight sac, chuckling when Aragorn drew his knees up and back, exposing himself shamelessly to the Elf.

Legolas accepted the invitation and dropped lower, his tongue seeking and finding the tight opening and slicking it quickly. He drove his tongue forward, breaching the Man effortlessly, fighting another shudder when Aragorn pressed back against him, crying out with pleasure. Legolas sat up and scanned the tent, eyes fastening on the unstoppered bottle of oil near the tent flap. He stood and retrieved it, returning to his lover who quivered in his unfulfilled desire. He poured the viscous liquid over his fingers and, without pause, slid two inside Aragorn. Aragorn twisted under the Elf ministrations and pulled his legs further back. With untried patience, Legolas prepared the Man, twisting and scissoring within the tight channel. When the King was readily riding four of his fingers, Legolas removed his hand and added more of the oil, coating his heavy shaft.

The Prince kneeled before the King, replacing Aragorn's shaking hands with his forearms, bracing the Man's legs as he positioned the blunt head of his need against Aragorn. Legolas' eyes, now glistening with unshed tears, watched the Ranger's face as he filled Aragorn in one smooth thrust. Aragorn cried out with Legolas, both bodies trembling and wanting. Legolas held himself still, allowing Aragorn the time to adjust to his girth. The tight sheath was impossibly hot and it took all the restraint Legolas had leave in three thousand years not to take the Man roughly. When the muscles around his arousal relaxed and Aragorn's breathing had returned to the lustful, needy panting, Legolas began to thrust.

He set an unhurried pace, relishing the feel of Aragorn around him. The tears he had tried to fight began to fall, but he kept his eyes on his beloved's face. Aragorn had long ago closed his own eyes, concentrating all his senses on the feel of Legolas, and Legolas thanked the Valar that his lover would not see his anguish. He took Aragorn with his hand and began to stroke the hard flesh. He could feel the tensing of Aragorn's body and knew the King would find his release soon. Legolas continued his deep, long strokes right through Aragorn's orgasm. It was when those internal muscles clamped down on his oversensitive member, milking him with each spurt of fluid upon Aragorn's belly, that Legolas tumbled over the precipice and into ecstasy. He cried out his lover's name as he spilled his seed deep within the Man and his tears fell freely.

Aragorn's legs slipped from his grip and the King's strong arms came to wrap around his shaking shoulders.

"Legolas?" he asked, his voice thick with fatigue.

Legolas took a deep breath and pulled back, gently withdrawing his softening member from Aragorn's body. It was over. He would never feel that again, never witness the Man completely surrendered to him in passion. He wiped his face and offered a watery smile. "I am well, Aragorn. Just tired."

Aragorn nodded and held out his arms. Legolas used the corner of Aragorn's leggings to clean the King off and then snuggled into his embrace.

"We do not have long to rest, I am afraid, my Elf. But, what sleep we can steal from this time, we should."

Legolas nodded against Aragorn's chest, his heart still heavy. He could never share this satiated afterglow with Aragorn again. He would never feel his arms about him, never feel so safe and loved as he did within the circle of Aragorn's body.

A voice, deeply hidden but loud enough to catch his attention, called the Legolas' aching heart. Why couldn't he have what he wanted? Why could he not take instead of giving, for once? He had given and given: for his father, for Mirkwood, for Elrond, for Galadriel, for Middle-Earth... It was time he took something for himself. He would not let Aragorn go. The Man had handed him his heart, had showed his the darkest parts of his soul, and Legolas loved him for it. Let the rest of the world rally against them; let the Valar themselves appear and chastise them. He would never leave his beloved, no matter the consequences.

With a smile on his face and a lighter burden on his heart, Legolas snuggled into the furs about their bodies and fell swiftly into reverie.

*****

Night had long fallen and Legolas found himself sitting on one of the many balconies that could be found along the citadel. The sky would become alight with colors as Mithrandir's fireworks heralded the union of King Elessar and Arwen Undomiel. He sighed. It had been a dream, one he had quickly cast aside once the warm glow of lovemaking had passed. When they had woken and prepared to march on Mordor, he had known that the time had indeed come. It would do neither of them any good to steal away with one another when their world needed their utmost concentration.

Aragorn had caught on quickly that their relationship had changed. He had only sought Legolas out once for answers, but the Elf had told him that he would give him those answers if they survived.

And they had survived.

Haldir had come with the Lothlorien party and had offered Legolas some kind words and looks that Legolas could not quite place. Arwen had embraced him, thanking him for keeping her Elessar safe, a knowing look passing between the two Elves. Elladan and Elrohir had offered to keep him company after the ceremony, but Legolas had begged off, saying he simply needed time alone. Which he did. His warring emotions were new to him. He had spent centuries knowing who he was and what his purpose in Arda was. Then he had allowed the King of Men to kiss him and his entire existence had changed. He knew he had not been blind in this endeavor. He had known the consequences and had thrown caution to the wind.

He was simply reaping what he had sown.

The bitter fruit was his alone.

The Elven-Prince sipped his wine and watched the sky light up in crimson, one of Arwen's favored colors. His keen hearing picked up the light footsteps when they were well down the corridor, and he wondered who the twins had sent to cheer him up now. He stood, placing his goblet on the ledge of the balcony and leaned over, looking down at the assembled crowd.

"Legolas?"

He turned sharply at the voice, his eyes wide with fear. "Aragorn."

The King, still dressed in his wedding finery, approached the Prince and smiled, bringing his hand up to cup the icy cheek of the Elf. "Why do you look at me thus, meleth?"

Legolas pulled back from the caress and looked back out over the city. "Aragorn, you should not be here, you should be with your wife and family. Not with me."

"Legolas, you are family to me. I have known you my whole life..." the King trailed off, uncertainty coloring his tone.

"Aye, I suppose I am akin to family. More reason I should never have taken you to my bed, Aragorn." Legolas turned to face his love. "You should go back now."

Aragorn's eyes narrowed, the depths sparking with anger. "Why do you say this? Why do you push me away? I love you!"

"But, I have not loved you," he lied. "I have never spoken promises of forever or given you any reason to see beyond my offer of friendship and comfort."

"Friendship?! Sharing your body with me is *friendship*?" Aragorn looked at him incredulously. "What game have you been playing, Elf? Is my heart not pure enough for you?"

"Aragorn," he said, raising his hands to his temples, which had begun to pound. "You are Arwen's. You always have been. We both knew that; should Sauron and the Ring be destroyed, so would our stolen love."

"You speak of love! Why do you lie to me? Why do you lie to yourself?" Aragorn inched closer, taking the Prince's hands in his own and Legolas opened his mournful sky-blue eyes.

"You are not listening to me. Arwen has made her choice, and now I must make mine. You must let me go, Aragorn."

"No!" he cried, bringing his lips against his lover's.

Legolas let out an anguished yelp and wrapped his arms around Aragorn. He opened his mouth to accept the King's demanding tongue and lost himself in the scent and taste of his love. Suddenly, he pulled back, pushing Aragorn away from him. Panting, with unshed tears on his lashes, Legolas shook his head. "No, Aragorn. It cannot be. I know what it is you would ask of me. I know you would keep me here and love me while you love her. It is unfair to her, unfair to me, and unfair to yourself. I will not allow it."

"*You* will not allow it? What power gives you the right to make that decision for all of us? You know that I would give all of this up and return with you to your home, Legolas! Gondor has survived this long without a king; it does not need one now. Faramir will make an excellent Steward, and I can finally put an end to the Kings of Men." Aragorn's pleading tone caused a sharp stab of pain in Legolas' chest, and the Elf stifled another grief-stricken moan.

"I must take back my life, Aragorn. For so long, it has been everyone else's. It has been yours. I would rather be alone, melethen, than to see you give up all we have fought for. You are the King of Men. You are now the sworn husband of Arwen. And I have no place here."

Aragorn's eyes were alight with desperation. "Then I will make a place!"

"You cannot! This is not what I wanted to be, Aragorn. I did not want to be heartbroken on your wedding night. But, I can see it now. I can see that the worst of you comes from me." Legolas looked out over the crowd once more and closed his eyes, a single tear finding its way down his alabaster cheek. "This person you are, this one willing to hold me as well as his long love, is what *I* have done to you." He turned sharply to Aragorn, his eyes hard and dry. "And I cannot allow you to continue being such."

He fled past the King and into the night. Legolas did not know how long he ran, but he did not look back, for he feared Aragorn would be on his heels. He eventually came to the main stable where Arod was kept and he slipped in past the slumbering groom. The night had grown quiet and the sky dark, the celebration was over and, while his heart rebelled against his honor, Legolas knew Aragorn lay with Arwen at that moment.

Legolas brought Arod from his stall, foregoing the tack he usually used on the beast, and mounted in one graceful motion. "Revio, Arod, revio 'nin Anduin," he whispered near the horse's ears. The chestnut stallion took off to the east, covering the short distance to the shore of the great river in his swift gallop. When the Elf reached the bank, Arod's hoofs splashing heavily in the shallow waters, Legolas turned him to the south, crying out, "Hortho, Harad, hae o sí!"

Arod took off at a gentle lope, whinnying with his master's enthusiasm. Horse and rider rode at this pace for some time, stopping once to allow Arod time to rest, then taking off once more further South down the Anduin. When the sky began to lighten, Legolas murmured into Arod's ear, "Daro, mellonen, daro." Arod came to a slow halt, panting with the exertion of their ride. Legolas slid from his back, looking across the river at the terrain of Emyn Arnen. The land was barren around them and Legolas sat near the edge of the fast- flowing water. "Deritham sí suilo Anor," he said the horse, who snuffled at his ear. Legolas laughed, forgetting for a brief moment the pain in his chest as he stroked the muzzle of his companion and watched the glory of the sun rise.

Breathing deep, Legolas smiled and turned his face up to the warmth. The Sea-longing had woken in him and he thought about simply sailing on the next ship he could. But, he knew he wouldn't. He could not leave this land while Aragorn still lived. He would not return to Minas Tirith, though. He could not be so close and not touch, not hold the love he had momentarily held. In that moment, he made a decision. "Noram sír 'nin fili, Arod." Arod neighed and nodded his head, causing more laughter to bubble from the Elf. "Maer, nerim a ertham i Nogoth."

He remounted his steed and they rode at a more sedate pace, Legolas' body moving in complete harmony with Arod's. He let his mind wander as he looked about the land as they rode. So much had changed. In his long life he had seen his home erode, his father's heart darken, and tasted love. Now, it was time to revel in the smaller, more simple pleasures, such as his friendship with Gimli. His stout companion would ease the loneliness and offer him a distraction. As they came into the main city and made their way through the gates, Legolas resolved not to see Aragorn again until the time his love was ready to leave this world.

Then he would be free. Until then, he had the travels he and Gimli would go on and he still wanted to go home and see his father again. Perhaps even bring the Dwarf with him. He laughed to himself; his father would truly adore that.

*****

He stood outside Gimli's room, as placid as a still lake, waiting for the Dwarf to open the door. When the still sleepy figure did appear, Legolas smiled brightly, his false pretense of cheer causing Gimli to cringe.

"Master Elf! To what do I owe this early visit?" Gimli looked the Elf up and down, taking note that he was wearing his traveling clothes and had his weapons strapped about him. "Are you going somewhere?"

"Aye, Gimli, I thought we could travel to the Glittering Caves this morn." Another dazzling smile that let the Dwarf know that there was something indeed wrong with his friend.

Gimli looked beyond Legolas and saw saddlebags packed and ready. "I take you'll be leaving with or without my company, then?" He raised his chin in that defiant way he had and Legolas allowed true mirth to dance in his eyes.

"You know me too well, mellonen."

"Have you informed the King that we will be leaving ahead of schedule?" Gimli backed into his chamber, motioning for Legolas to join him.

Legolas took in his surroundings, noticing that Gimli did not unpack his belongings into whatever room he was staying, just as Legolas did not. It brought a faint smile to his lips just how alike he and the Dwarf were. "I have left word with Faramir, Gimli."

Gimli looked up from his packs, an eyebrow raised. "That is unlike you, Legolas, to slip away in the early morning light. What has happened, my friend?"

A cold look crossed the fair Elf's features and his eyes became hooded. "All has come to pass as it should, Master Dwarf, and I am eager to leave this city of stone."

The Dwarf looked at him with intense scrutiny and then nodded solemnly. "Very well, Elf. Keep your secrets and your sorrows. I will still be around when you feel it time to unburden yourself."

The two companions left the city of Minas Tirith, its white walls becoming a glimmer behind them in the late morning sun. Legolas urged Arod on, wanting to put as many leagues as he could between himself and the King's city. In time, he may return, but his heart screamed at him that he should never return. He was leaving behind one of his closest companions and a She-Elf he had always considered a sister. Other than his father, Legolas had counted the close members of the House of Elrond as his family.

He felt he could do that no longer.

~~~~~~~~~~

III.

It had been over three decades since he had stood before these vast white walls, this city of cold stone. For thirty years, he and his Dwarf companion had traveled the lands of Arda. They had traveled first to the Glittering Caves, spending many months exploring the dark recesses near Helm's Deep. Legolas had found a new appreciation for the mountains, and after Gimli's curiosity had been sated, they set off for Fangorn Forest. They had spent endless days exploring the old forest, listening to the trees speak and tell their stories. When they had fulfilled their obligation to one another and seen their bargain to its end, Gimli had suggested they continue their travels. The Elf, still running from his ghosts, had eagerly accepted. They visited many lands: The Brown Lands, where the Entwives had last been seen; the Sea of Rhûn; Eryn Lasgalen, where he introduced his father to his closest companion. Thranduil had not been impressed but had welcomed the valiant Dwarf into his home. After a short stay in Thranduil's caves, they continued to The Lonely Mountain and then to Ered Mithrim, where Legolas met Gloin and spent several weeks in the hospitality of the Dwarves.

The two had seen Emyn Uial, gone through the Shire, visited Mithlond and Harlond, stopped and wondered at Eryn Vorn, and finally found their way along the coastline to Dol Amroth. They were welcomed by Prince Imrahil, now aged and tired, but happy to see the two members of the Fellowship. It was there that he had learned of Eldarion, Elessar's first born son. On their travels, they had heard of Arwen and Aragorn's first two daughters; Gimli had always sent small gifts and letters to the family, attaching Legolas' name to them with his. Gimli, upon hearing of the birth of the heir, had stood with an _expression of stone and demanded that they go and pay their respects to the King and Queen of Gondor.

For so many years he had kept his heartbreak close to him, keeping it away from Gimli and never sharing the reason for them not returning to Minas Tirith. When Gimli had set his foot down, had insisted they travel the White City, Legolas felt it was time to confide in the one who had been his sole comfort, his only friend, why he never sought the former Ranger out. Gimli had been shocked, and had immediately shown sympathy for the hurt Elf. Legolas had smiled and explained that Gimli's company and their travels had lessened the ache in his chest, that he no longer wept bitter tears when he was alone and allowed himself to remember. The Elven-Prince knew all had come about as it should have and that Aragorn had achieved his destiny. Gimli still pressed that they should take gifts and congratulations to their friend and Legolas and relented.

Through a correspondence with Faramir while they resided in Dol Amroth, Legolas knew that the Sons of Elrond, the Hobbits who were left, Celeborn, and a host of other dignitaries and names he remembered from a lifetime ago, would be gathering in Minas Tirith to celebrate the birth. This was when Gimli decided they should return.

Now, making their way slowly through the gates and up to the brightly lit top tier, Legolas thought back over his years. He regretted nothing, he would choose this fate all over again if he had the opportunity. The banquet was already in progress when they were met by Faramir.

"You're late, my Lords," he said.

Legolas smiled and embraced the Man. "Be happy that we are here at all, my friend!"

Gimli laughed and the Steward led the two to a small guest suite, they had shared each other's company for so long, it was second nature to room together.

"Would you like me to announce you to the King?"

Legolas shook his head. "Nay. We will bathe and change and will make our way to the dining hall shortly."

Faramir nodded and left them to their own devices. Gimli looked up at the Prince. "Going for a dramatic entrance?"

Legolas only smirked and walked into the bathing chamber.

*****

Legolas entered the filled dining room with Gimli by his side. They walked purposefully to the King and Queen's table, ignoring the shocked silence their unexpected presence brought.

The Prince of Eryn Lasgalen was a vision before the court. Loose grey leggings peeked out from a pale green robe that hung loosely about his lithe figure. It was cinched at his waist with a simple brown sash and was open from the belt to his shoulders. A deep forest-colored tunic was exposed, embroidered with gold leaves and delicate filigree. His shimmering silver shirt reflected the low candlelight; the full, billowing sleeve caught tight at his wrists. The green and gold of his long cape whipped behind him as he approached the table, his high polished black boots ringing loudly with each step.

Legolas' hair was arranged in perfect, elaborate plaits that displayed his position in Elvish society. A mithril crown of ivy leaves and emeralds adorned his brow. His eyes were cold slivers of ice when he stopped before the King and Queen, a smile that did not reach his eyes on his lips.

"My King, my Queen," he began in a clear, even voice. "I have come to give my best wishes and congratulations to you on the birth of your son." He produced a small, colorful box and presented it to Arwen. She took it from him, with a small frown of disapproval on her gentle face. "A small token, my Lady, for I have been abroad for many years and not able to procure an appropriate gift for such a joyous occasion."

He bowed low and gave a nod to Celeborn, Elladan and Elrohir before turning on his heel and walking just as briskly from the room. The silence rang in the Prince's ears all the way back to the suite he would share with the Dwarf. Who, he thought as he pulled the crown from his head, would be irate when he got back for the night.

*****

He opened the door after the soft, hesitant knock. He had been up since dawn, but Gimli's snores could still be heard and it was now mid-morning. Legolas opened the door and found a blushing maid looking at her hands.

"Yes?"

"My Lord, the Queen wishes for you to join her at this hour in her bower. I am to take you straight there." She would look everywhere but at him.

Legolas sighed with annoyance, something he rarely did. He had hoped to leave by the noon meal, head back toward Eryn Lasgalen and see his father. It had been nearly two decades since he had seen the King. Instead, he would now have to face the She-Elf who he had spent more summers with than he could count, after being so rude to her and her husband the previous night.

Well, never let it be said that Legolas Thranduilion was a coward. He nodded and exited the room, closing the door quietly behind him.

Her bower was lavish, rich fabrics and plush seating dominated the feminine room. Arwen, in her silks and pastels, sat in a rocking chair padded in peach, her dark hair hanging over one shoulder and a small cloth resting on the other. A bundle lay against that shoulder and her soft murmurs were directed at the gurgling child. Her grey eyes rose to meet his blue ones and she offered him the settee across from her. She did not speak until he had seated himself.

"I thought, Legolas, that you might like to look upon the reason for your visit... before you crept away while we were all occupied with our daily duties." The sting in her voice caused him to cringe inwardly and he wished he had left that morning.

"Thank you, my Lady, for the kind gesture," he said coolly, his eyes veiled and emotionless.

Arwen's lips curved into a sardonic smile. "Come now, I do believe we are far passed 'Prince Legolas' and 'Queen Arwen,' don't you? You saw me only days after my birth, Legolas. You taught me to ride, to shoot a bow, to wield a sword, to beat up my brothers and you dried my tears when I needed comfort. You who once called me 'sister.' I do believe I deserve better than that."

Legolas looked away from then, a flush of shame coloring his features. She was right, she had deserved more than he had given.

The Queen stood, the babe in her arms cooing gently in the tense silence. She knelt before the stricken Prince and smiled up into his dark face. "Will you not even hold him?" She smiled brightly at him then, and offered the tiny infant to Legolas. His eyes were wide as the child was nestled in the cradle of his arms. The soft weight and the bright, dark eyes that looked up at him brought a wistful smile to his face. "His name is Eldarion," she said, resting her small hand on his knee. Legolas looked up to her with eyes shimmering with tears.

"Oh, gwathel, I have missed so much," he whispered. As the tears trickled down his cheeks, he brushed his finger along the round, fleshy cheek, laughing when Eldarion reached up with his own tiny hand to grip Legolas' finger. "Your daughters... I should have been here with you, Arwen, I should have held them as I hold him now."

Arwen brushed a lock of the Elf's unbound golden hair back, tucking it behind the perfectly pointed tip. "But, you are here now. We still have so many years before us, more children for you to hold and love. For you will love him, won't you?" she asked, looking down into the shining face of her son.

"I love him already," came the hushed reply.

Legolas looked down into Arwen's large, dark eyes. "I am sorry, Arwen. I should have never loved him as I did."

Arwen blinked slowly, shaking her head. "No, do not regret your love of Aragorn, Legolas."

"It was selfish," he choked out, holding the child tight to his chest.

Arwen laughed, a tinkling sound that reminded Legolas of rushing water. "Selfish? Oh, Legolas." She cupped his cheek, leaning up to brush her lips against his. "Gwador, he would have gone with you. Had you said yes, he would have abandoned it all. Instead, you turned from him, sent him back to his wedding bed. You sacrificed your happiness for others. Please, never believe you were selfish."

"And have you been happy, Arwen?" He rocked Eldarion, watching the child's eyes close in sleep. "Is he happy?"

"Oh yes, my dearest friend. He is happy and I am happy. And we owe it to you. Our children owe this to you."

Legolas smiled bitterly. "Only you, Arwen, could thank your husband's lover for not stealing him away."

"Do you wish for me to throw a tantrum? Accuse you of things we both know to be untrue? What is it you would like for me to do, Legolas?" She stood and went back to her rocking chair, folding her hands neatly in her lap.

He turned eyes full of naked emotion to her. "I want to be forgiven for wishing it all had been different, that he could have been mine. I want to be forgiven for ever knowing his touch when that should have been yours alone."

"You are forgiven for whatever sins you feel you have committed, mellonen. A new start, Legolas. You have family here who love you and need you. Will you run from us again?"

Looking down into the sleeping, peaceful face of the child in his arms, Legolas knew he could not. He had come home. "No, I will not run, Arwen."

"Good. Legolas?" she asked, hesitantly.

He looked up and cocked his head to the side. "Aye?"

She bit her lip slightly, as if trying to find the words to phrase her thought. "There is one who visits me regularly, a friend of mine and of yours. He has loved you long, has suffered as you have suffered. He has missed his dear friend and has loved him from afar as you battled your love for Aragorn. Lay to rest what is between you and my husband, gwador. Allow both your hearts to heal and then, perhaps, this friend can have his most hoped for wish come true."

Legolas looked at her, puzzled. "Who is this you speak of?"

She just smiled. "Eldarion has fallen asleep? Well, see there! He already adores you!"

*****

He found Aragorn where Arwen said he would be, sifting through the myriad of correspondence that came to him each day. He stood in the doorway, leaning casually and gazing upon the lover he had given up so many years ago. When the Man finally looked up, Legolas' breath caught in his throat. His outward calm remained, though, and he gazed steadily at the King. Aragorn stood and came from behind his desk and Legolas pushed off from the doorframe, closing the door behind him.

"Aragorn," he said, bowing his head slightly in respect.

"I thought you would have left by now," Aragorn said, as if not believing the Elf-Prince stood before him.

Legolas smiled wryly. "You should thank your wife for that, mellonen."

"Mellonen?"

Legolas looked away for a moment, crossing his arms over his chest. "I was wrong to simply leave all that time ago, Aragorn. I should have been here for Arwen, for you. I love you both so much, and I should not have run from either of you."

Aragorn suddenly embraced Legolas and the Elf closed his eyes on the tears that threatened to erupt. He wrapped his own arms around the still-fit body of his friend and held him close. Many moments passed, both reacquainting themselves with the smell and feel of the other. Finally, Aragorn pulled back, cupping Legolas' face in his hands. "You were right," he said, his voice harsh with emotion. "Had I gone with you, I would not have my children, the lights of my life. You were always right."

"You are not angry?" he asked, his brow furrowing with bewilderment when Aragorn shook his head. "You both amaze me," he breathed.

"Why is that?" Aragorn asked, placing his arm around Legolas' slim waist and guiding him to the window seat.

"Arwen was not angry that you and I..." Legolas trailed off, then began again. "That you and I had been lovers. She was only hurt that I had not come back in all this time. And you..." he gestured, "You thank me when first seeing me in thirty years!"

Aragorn held Legolas' hand in his own, looking down at them resting in his lap. "Arwen was never angry or hurtful when it came to you and I. She understood, she knew I still loved her, that I had come back to our bed that night and had not run after you. She always admired your selflessness, you honor and courage to turn me away when I was weak."

"But you...?"

The King took a deep breath and then met the questioning eyes that never left his thoughts. "I was so angry with you. I thought you had played with my emotions, had used me to satisfy your need. I was bitter and hateful for many years."

Legolas swallowed visibly. "What changed?"

Aragorn smiled. "The birth of my daughter. The moment I looked into her sweet face, I thanked you for not having me. Because of you, I was able to have the beautiful family I have."

The Prince looked out the window behind them, thinking back over the last fifty years of his life. So much of it has centered around Aragorn, around the pain of loving one he could not possibly have. In the wake of Legolas' departure decades ago, Aragorn had had his wife and then his children to comfort him. Legolas had had no one, not even the Dwarf had been able to ease the terrible ache of loneliness inside him.

Haldir's voice, from a winter so many years passed, in the fading glory of Lothlorien, rang in his head. 'What of you, mellonen vrûn? Who will ease your pain? This pain you will have brought upon yourself?' He had not had an answer for his friend then.

Did he now?

*****

He had been given permanent quarters in the family wing. Legolas spent hours with the children, loving them as he would his own. He had a position within Aragorn's home, a Councilor and tactician for the King. After he and Aragorn had shared those moments in the window seat of the Man's office, Legolas had returned to the suite he and Gimli had shared and sent a message off to Eryn Lasgalen with the evening courier. There had still been no reply.

The Elven-Prince heart had eased and seeing the King and Queen together did not send the currents of pain they once did. He still loved the Man, he always would, but he had accepted that their love would never again be. He just hoped that he had a chance with the one Arwen had spoken of.

Legolas was settling in for the night when there was knock at his door. His brow creased as he wondered who would be disturbing him so late. He wrapped his silk robe around him, making sure his sleeping trousers were modest, and opened the door. His eyes went wide and he forgot to breathe as he came face to face with his first love. Dark eyes sparkling with humor and affection made his heart speed and he knew he had been right.

In smooth and liquid tones, the Elf before him spoke. "You said you believed you had found an answer to my question, Prince. I have come to hear it."

The End

*****

Elvish/English:

*Meldir : Male friend
*Seron vell : Dear lover (beloved)
*Gwador : Sworn brother
*Meleth : Love
*Ernilen : My Prince
*Revio, Arod, revio 'nin Anduin. : Fly, Arod, to the Anduin.
*Hortho, Harad, hae o sí. : Quickly, South, far from here.
*Daro, mellonen, daro. : Stop, my friend, stop.
*Deritham sí suilo Anor. : We will wait here to greet the sun.
*Noram sír 'nin fili, Arod. : We ride for the caves today, Arod.
*Maer, nerim a ertham i Nogoth. : Good, we run and get the Dwarf.
*Mellonen - My friend
*Gwathel : Sworn sister