WARNING: This is SLASH! Aragorn/Legolas slash, to be exact. Also contains Frodo/Sam and Merry/Pippin. If you no like, you no read, okay?
A/N: Uh, ok, hi. :) This is my first A/L (and first LotR,) fic and I know it moves around a lot, kinda randomly, and I know none of it's original at all, but I just had to throw in my two cents. It's basically selected scenes from FotR but altered just a bit. And I added some stuff (and lots of fluff) here and there and - well, if you read you'll find out. So... enjoy! :) And please please please review! Constructive criticism, advice, etc, is all very much appreciated; flames, however, are not. Yeah, I think that's it...
Disclaimer: Legolas is not mine. :( Neither is Aragorn. I wish...
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(Legolas POV)
Elrond's banquet hall was, as usual, full of elves, dwarves, and the occasional man. It was this last category that I was currently concerned with. Strolling casually around the room I peered at the diverse peoples assembled. At last I spotted him, in conversation with a... Halfling? Well, go figure. I immediately made a beeline for my friend.
"Estel!" I exclaimed.
He turned and I saw his face light up at the sight of me. "Legolas!" he answered as we embraced. "This is Frodo Baggins, of the Shire," Estel said, motioning to the Halfling. "Frodo, Legolas is the prince of Mirkwood and a good friend of mine." Friend was a decided understatement when it came to describing our relationship. Since meeting fifteen years ago, Estel and I had become like brothers.
I must admit, I wasn't quite sure of any dignified way that I, a six foot tall Elf, could greet a Halfling who stood roughly half my height. Then Frodo solved the dilemma by sticking out a hand, which I gratefully accepted. The Halfling, apparently seeing my attempts to catch Estel's eye, then tactfully excused himself.
The two of us left the crowded hall to catch up beneath the stars. We discussed Mirkwood, Halflings, and bows (a/n: as in archery, not ribbon) until Estel breached a topic that he clearly had been waiting to speak of.
"Legolas, have you seen the Lady Arwen since your arrival in Rivendell?" he asked, suddenly breathless, eyes shining. My heart dropped like a rock into the pit of my stomach. Of course, I knew well of Estel's love for the beautiful Elf, but every time I saw him I hoped he had somehow gotten over her. It was so painful to see such light and hope in his eyes, all for someone else. I had loved Estel since the day I met him, more than he could or would ever know.
"No, Estel," I responded quietly, avoiding his eager gaze. "I have not yet seen Arwen. But do not despair, I'm certain she's here."
"Would - would you mind if I went to look for her, Legolas? I don't -"
"Go, Estel. You must go to her, if she is the one your heart desires."
"Thank you, friend. Thank you for understanding." He quickly kissed my cheek affectionately (a/n: no, not like that! Like a friend. Don't worry, you'll get plenty of other kisses later on...), then disappeared into the darkness. I gently touched the spot where Estel's lips had brushed my face, wishing that the gesture had been more than it was. Sitting alone under the trees of Rivendell, my thoughts drifted around Estel as they had done so often for fifteen years...
For years I had been sent to Rivendell in place of my father, who could not leave his realm for that long. Returning from one such journey, one night I happened upon a campfire. It was small, true, and one with less keen eyesight may have bypassed it altogether. I crept up to it, curious as to who he was that dared to light a fire in times of such uncertainty. A lone dark figure, cloaked and hooded, sat beside the fire, unmoving.
"You are brave, to travel alone in these parts," I murmured to him. At the sound of my voice he leapt to his feet, unsheathing a thin silver blade. "Very brave or, perhaps, very foolish."
"No less foolish than you, unseen one," he retorted. "Will you not show yourself?"
In response I stepped into his clearing, drawing back the hood of my cloak and allowing the silver moonlight to strike my golden hair. "I am Legolas of Mirkwood."
"Ah, a prince," said he. "I am called Strider, a Ranger of these parts."
"You underestimate me, Strider," I replied, "for I know you to be Aragorn, son of Arathorn."
He too drew his hood from his face then, revealing a swarthy Man of about thirty. His dark eyes rested steadily on me even as his mouth slowly smiled. "In that case, Prince Legolas, I would be honored to have you share my fire tonight."
"I gladly accept your invitation, Lord Aragorn." I sat on the ground beside him, adjusting my cloak around my shoulders and laying my bow and quiver next to me. "Tell me, are you not the one known to the Elves as Estel?"
"Aye, that is one of my many names," he answered, meeting my gaze. Up close, I could see that his eyes were the deepest, richest blue I had ever seen, even among Elves.
"Then Estel I shall call you, not Strider or any of your other names."
We talked in hushed tones until the first ruby rays of sunlight rent the sky above us. Every moment I spent with him I felt myself more captivated by those serious eyes. In all my nearly three thousand years I had yet to see the Sea, but I couldn't believe that there could exist a more beautiful color in the entire world.
I was pulled from my reminiscing by the sound of voices nearby. I crept toward them, at last coming upon a fountain of crystalline water. Silhouetted against it were a man and a woman. Aragorn and Arwen, to be exact. I watched, mesmerized, as she pressed a glittering jewel into his hand, then sealed her mouth over his. Then I ran, choking back tears, before they could hear me lose my control. Locked in my chambers, I lay on my bed and let the tears come. I had lived for many lives of Men, so why did I care so much about just one, the one I would never have?
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Well? Go review!!!!! The more reviews I get the sooner I'll post the next chapter! (and in the meantime, feel free to read some of my other fics if you like harry potter...)
BTW - if you have any better title ideas, please help!
A/N: Uh, ok, hi. :) This is my first A/L (and first LotR,) fic and I know it moves around a lot, kinda randomly, and I know none of it's original at all, but I just had to throw in my two cents. It's basically selected scenes from FotR but altered just a bit. And I added some stuff (and lots of fluff) here and there and - well, if you read you'll find out. So... enjoy! :) And please please please review! Constructive criticism, advice, etc, is all very much appreciated; flames, however, are not. Yeah, I think that's it...
Disclaimer: Legolas is not mine. :( Neither is Aragorn. I wish...
************************************************************************
(Legolas POV)
Elrond's banquet hall was, as usual, full of elves, dwarves, and the occasional man. It was this last category that I was currently concerned with. Strolling casually around the room I peered at the diverse peoples assembled. At last I spotted him, in conversation with a... Halfling? Well, go figure. I immediately made a beeline for my friend.
"Estel!" I exclaimed.
He turned and I saw his face light up at the sight of me. "Legolas!" he answered as we embraced. "This is Frodo Baggins, of the Shire," Estel said, motioning to the Halfling. "Frodo, Legolas is the prince of Mirkwood and a good friend of mine." Friend was a decided understatement when it came to describing our relationship. Since meeting fifteen years ago, Estel and I had become like brothers.
I must admit, I wasn't quite sure of any dignified way that I, a six foot tall Elf, could greet a Halfling who stood roughly half my height. Then Frodo solved the dilemma by sticking out a hand, which I gratefully accepted. The Halfling, apparently seeing my attempts to catch Estel's eye, then tactfully excused himself.
The two of us left the crowded hall to catch up beneath the stars. We discussed Mirkwood, Halflings, and bows (a/n: as in archery, not ribbon) until Estel breached a topic that he clearly had been waiting to speak of.
"Legolas, have you seen the Lady Arwen since your arrival in Rivendell?" he asked, suddenly breathless, eyes shining. My heart dropped like a rock into the pit of my stomach. Of course, I knew well of Estel's love for the beautiful Elf, but every time I saw him I hoped he had somehow gotten over her. It was so painful to see such light and hope in his eyes, all for someone else. I had loved Estel since the day I met him, more than he could or would ever know.
"No, Estel," I responded quietly, avoiding his eager gaze. "I have not yet seen Arwen. But do not despair, I'm certain she's here."
"Would - would you mind if I went to look for her, Legolas? I don't -"
"Go, Estel. You must go to her, if she is the one your heart desires."
"Thank you, friend. Thank you for understanding." He quickly kissed my cheek affectionately (a/n: no, not like that! Like a friend. Don't worry, you'll get plenty of other kisses later on...), then disappeared into the darkness. I gently touched the spot where Estel's lips had brushed my face, wishing that the gesture had been more than it was. Sitting alone under the trees of Rivendell, my thoughts drifted around Estel as they had done so often for fifteen years...
For years I had been sent to Rivendell in place of my father, who could not leave his realm for that long. Returning from one such journey, one night I happened upon a campfire. It was small, true, and one with less keen eyesight may have bypassed it altogether. I crept up to it, curious as to who he was that dared to light a fire in times of such uncertainty. A lone dark figure, cloaked and hooded, sat beside the fire, unmoving.
"You are brave, to travel alone in these parts," I murmured to him. At the sound of my voice he leapt to his feet, unsheathing a thin silver blade. "Very brave or, perhaps, very foolish."
"No less foolish than you, unseen one," he retorted. "Will you not show yourself?"
In response I stepped into his clearing, drawing back the hood of my cloak and allowing the silver moonlight to strike my golden hair. "I am Legolas of Mirkwood."
"Ah, a prince," said he. "I am called Strider, a Ranger of these parts."
"You underestimate me, Strider," I replied, "for I know you to be Aragorn, son of Arathorn."
He too drew his hood from his face then, revealing a swarthy Man of about thirty. His dark eyes rested steadily on me even as his mouth slowly smiled. "In that case, Prince Legolas, I would be honored to have you share my fire tonight."
"I gladly accept your invitation, Lord Aragorn." I sat on the ground beside him, adjusting my cloak around my shoulders and laying my bow and quiver next to me. "Tell me, are you not the one known to the Elves as Estel?"
"Aye, that is one of my many names," he answered, meeting my gaze. Up close, I could see that his eyes were the deepest, richest blue I had ever seen, even among Elves.
"Then Estel I shall call you, not Strider or any of your other names."
We talked in hushed tones until the first ruby rays of sunlight rent the sky above us. Every moment I spent with him I felt myself more captivated by those serious eyes. In all my nearly three thousand years I had yet to see the Sea, but I couldn't believe that there could exist a more beautiful color in the entire world.
I was pulled from my reminiscing by the sound of voices nearby. I crept toward them, at last coming upon a fountain of crystalline water. Silhouetted against it were a man and a woman. Aragorn and Arwen, to be exact. I watched, mesmerized, as she pressed a glittering jewel into his hand, then sealed her mouth over his. Then I ran, choking back tears, before they could hear me lose my control. Locked in my chambers, I lay on my bed and let the tears come. I had lived for many lives of Men, so why did I care so much about just one, the one I would never have?
********************************************************************************
Well? Go review!!!!! The more reviews I get the sooner I'll post the next chapter! (and in the meantime, feel free to read some of my other fics if you like harry potter...)
BTW - if you have any better title ideas, please help!