It was a sunny, hot summer day. The forest was lighted by the sun. The birds could be heard from everywhere, their high and pleasing voices were filling the ears of rare wanderers. But today there was only a small group of six horsemen.

Their leader, mature in body but so old in eyes, silently gazed around himself as he was slowly riding his black, massive horse. He wore heavy silver armor beneath his long, gray cloak. Half-hidden sword hung on his side. He was holding kinda loose the reins in his battle-harden hands, but the horse seemed relaxed. The man felt hot under his cloak, armor and undershirt. There was no sign of potential danger in the forest, but he remained wary. One can never know. He moved his fingers through his disheveled hair and unconsciously caressed his chin. His beard was stubble. "Maybe I need to shave."- a thought has just passed through his relaxed mind.

"Sir, how far is the inn? We are riding about three hours. Fresh bath and some sleep would do good."- one of the horsemen asked.

"Yes, good indeed. Well, maybe a half an hour or so. No more."- the Man replied, not really bothering what have been just said to him.

After the weeks on dangerous and dark roads, this forest unburdened him fully. He just wanted slowly to gallope on his horse, to sing without voice in his beard and enjoy the sun. But still his body needed rest. Many miles were in front of them.

The road to Gondor is rocky and long. To his home. Who would even suspect this experienced horseman to be a king of many souls? King of Gondor. Yes, even as a king, he still remained to be a Ranger when the duties allowed so. He enjoyed riding through his kingdom masked, to see what his people do. To feel like a normal, busy Ranger that he was deep in his heart.

He couldn't stand just sitting on his throne, announcing laws and commanding. He needed to be a part of real life, to ride and fight with his warriors although there were no bigger battles than those that were initiated by small groups of Orcs. If nothing, he traveled to meet interesting people who may be of use to his land. He traveled to the Ridermark or to Rivendell. Faramir was ruling White City almost as good as the real king did, so Aragorn had nothing to worry about. It was the time of peace. Most of the people were satisfied. And again, after many weeks on the road, he was going home.

"My liege, how should we address you while we are among mere people?"

"You shall call me Aragorn. Not many living souls out of gates of White City know that name of mine. Be aware. Do not address me with the name Elessar. Now, I am only a leader of horsemen. We have finished our duties faraway, on the King's request and we are patrolling. There is a little or no possibility for you to be asked that, but just in case."

"Yes, my liege."

"And you don't have to be that formal with me. I am as much warrior as you are." Aragorn glanced at them and gave them a warm smile.

Seriously, they should get used to the fact that he is a normal human being. Well, normal as much as his ancestry allowed. The horseman returned the smile, already feeling more relaxed.

"We are almost there. I can see the inn." One man said, pure happiness in his voice.

"Yes, we are. When we arrive, you are free to do as you like. We have four days to rest. It is a peaceful village so there shouldn't be any problems."

It was a big, popular inn. Wanderers, witches, necromancers, drunkhards, horsemen, soldiers, dwarfs, wizards and sundowners stayed there. The inn was on a good place, on the crossroad among many places important to all kind of people.

Despite differences in their looking or nature of their jobs, people were getting along. That means all of them were only minding their own buisnies. Wizards are necromancers could be seen talking in the corner, but dwarfs were ever so closed and antisocial.

When the horsemen arrived, they saw many people of all genders and looking mingling around. Some were going, some arriving. One witch was cursing a little fat man who was waving with fists at her.

"You can't even poison a pest properly! What kind of witch you are?"

And many other conversations could be heard. Usually, no man paid heed to the other man's buisnies. Soon, the mess of people was getting smaller. Innkeeper, bald and fat man, headed towards Aragorn. He was smiling, big oily smile showed his golden teeth.

"Welcome, oh welcome, my guests! Welcome to the best inn of South Road! You look weary. What can I do for you?"

Aragorn looked at the man. He looked like a greedy, drunk on money average innkeeper. Nothing unusal or new.

"Six rooms. We are staying four days. Breakfest, lunch and dinner. We need someone to groom and water our horses. And to wash our clothes. That is all."

The man's smile widened. Well, these people were large. Surely, they ate a lot. Four days, horse caring and washing clothes. That was not so little money.

"On your command, my good sir. Come in, come in."

Aragorn got off of his horse and handed reins to a young lad who appeared in instant. His eyes were wide.

"This is a beautiful stud! It looks like it is from King's stables!"

Aragorn smiled: "He is."

The young man's eyes sparkled with joy.

"Treat him well." -Aragorn added and headed towards inn.

To Aragorn's surprise, their wing of the inn was very peaceful. Only few people were sitting or drinking at the bar.

The fat man caught his face expression and hurried to explain: "Well, I thought you didn't look like a man in mood for mass of people or talking so I gave you a room in this quiet part. Your soldiers are in the center, as they wished."

Aragron had to admit this man was good in mind reading.

"I am pleased."

The fat man smiled again: "A servant will come to your room in instant, to prepare a bath and take dirty clothes."

Aragorn only nooded. Soon, he was sitting in the corner of his room. It was an average room. One large bed, nightable, two chairs, a desk, cabinet and middle large window with dark curtains. He had a bathroom conjoined with his room. That was a privilegion.

He smiled again as he took of his armor. He flexed his musceles and sighed as he felt his body hardening. He really needed a bath. He unbuttoned his shirt and took off his boots. Then he heard a little knock on his door. Someone with weaker hearing would have noticed nothing. Aragorn wondered in second how he didn't hear footsteps. No matter how tired he was, he would definitely hear someone getting closer.

"Come in."

Then the door opened. Aragorn gave a light look and turned his head. Then turned it again. A creature on his doorway was surely the most magnificent thing he has ever seen.

First thing that caught his eye was long, icy pale blond hair that was falling behind the creature's back. It was almost reaching its hips. It was carefully braided on the sides, leaving the rest of the porcelain face exposed. And that face.. It was white as snow. Pale rosy lips were slightly opened. Wide ocean blue eyes were filled with wariness. His nose was elegant, straight. He had swan-like long neck. Aragorn could see a bit of sharp pointed ear. Then his gaze roamed over his body. Same as the rest of him, it was pale. Lithe, with narrow hips and shoulders. His fingers were long, gentle. Everything about him looked breakable and gentle.

But he was dressed in the poor gray robe. His upper part was tight, while the rest simply fell down to the ground in unshaped, plain material. His sleeves were elbow-long. Aragorn could see collarbones. For a moment he caught a glimpse of hipbone when creature shuddered. He looked hungry.

Aragorn felt a stab of sadness. Good Lord, what is one elf, this beautiful, doing among muddy and evil men? The inn was not the safest place for those that cannot defend themselves. And surely, this elf couldn't make himself safe. His look made it even harder. Slave traders were also visiting inn. Any of them could simply ask for price and buy him.

"Come in. You are a servant, aren't you?"

The Elf walked in and shut the door.

"Yes, sir. My master has sent me to prepare the bath and take your clothes."- his voice was silvery and easy.

He was looking at his bare feet and unconsciously caressing hem on his robe.

"Yes, I know. Well, you can go and prepare the bath. I will take my clothes off."

The Elf silently nodded and headed towards the bathroom. He left the door opened. Buckets with hot and cold water were already there so the Elf immediately started to pour water in the tub.

He removed his boots and started to unbutton his light shirt as he was looking at the Elf's back. A steam of water was going in his face and made his skin look silky. He was doing his job swiftly so Aragorn concluded he worked here for some time. Blond Elf caught a wild tress of his hair and tucked it behind his sharp pointed ear. Not knowing why, Aragorn found this movement very intimating. He took off his shirt and put it on the bed.

The Elf felt eyes on him so he instinctively turned his head slightly to look at their owner. Just when he started to unstrap his belt and take off his breeches. the Elf saw a glimpse of well-muscled stomach and some hair over the man's chest and torso. He looked down at his work. He hated to work in a room when people were changing. This man surely was a soldier, he guessed. Armor explained a lot. And even his body looking. But soldiers were often too vivid, just seeking for fun and joy when they were freed from their duties. Many times before he and the rest of servants had had to endure their open gaze or vulgar words in half voice. He hurried to finish this fast.

Aragorn threw the last piece of clothing on the bed. He took a towel from the desk and wrapped it around his waist.

The Elf touched the surface of water. It was calmly warm. He turned around, to leave. He looked beside the man. The last thing he needed is to provoke him with his gaze. He couldn't deny this man looked handsome. But he was a man, another guest and Legolas rarely liked the guests.

"I hope you will be pleased and enjoy your bath, sir. You can come down later and have dinner."

"Mhm, fine. You will wash my clothes?" -Aragorn asked suddenly.

The Elf blushed. He looked the man in the eyes and saw a little spark. He nodded.

"Yes, I will. Is something wrong with that?"- last part was spoken in the shaky, barely audible voice

Aragorn saw pure fear in his eyes. And then he saw a light blue trace over the Elf's high cheek. It looked like a not so old bruise.

"No, it is fine. Fine indeed."

The Elf gave a hesitating smile and left the bathroom, closing the door. He took the clothing from the bed and left the room.

The man was silently gazing at the closed door, thinking. At least, he gave up and jumped into the hot water that relaxed his body. He closed his eyes. There will be a plenty of time to think about this Elf.