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Legolas and Aragorn
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Date Posted: 18:49:47 06/10/02 Mon
Releasing his bowstring, Legolas watched the sixth arrow fly straight and true, to land in the centre of the target with a satisfying ‘thud’. This was the way to live, he decided. Out here he was a warrior, pure and simple. It was a life free from complications and the palace intrigue.
And it was growing more intriguing by the day. A slight flush grew on his sculptured cheeks at the thought of Aragorn and Namün. She was barely more than a child! Unfortunately, Aragorn did not agree with him. She had been the cause of yet another dispute between the friends, once so close.
"All the palace is alight with gossip of you and one of the servants," he had said quietly, not wishing to be drawn into another argument. "Tell me, is it true?"
"Gossip; a king's bane," Aragorn smiled wryly. "Aye. It is true." He turned to Legolas, "but you knew that, did you not? This conversation is just a way for you to tell me how much you disapprove."
"How well you know me" he said quietly. It was good to see Aragorn smile- his life had been far too solemn of late- but that could not erase the words which had to be spoken. "And you're right, I do disapprove. You're married. Arwen gave up her immortal life for you. How could you betray her in this way?"
"Betray her? You think I've betrayed her?" he spluttered indignantly. "Who left who?" Legolas's face remained impassive which was somehow worse that if he had exploded. Looking into his friend's eyes Aragorn could see a minute reflection of himself, the fire raging in his own eyes; it died and he swung away. "You're right, of course. It's my fault I know it's just..." his voice cracked painfully,
"Legolas, how did this happen?"
Legolas ran one hand through his blonde locks, always a sign of distress in him. "You were tempted," he said as gently as his voice would allow, "It happens to all men."
But his sense of what was right would not allow him to leave it at that. Something compelled him to continue speaking, a part inside of him that saw the danger, but would not let the matter rest. Slowly and deliberately, he added, "But 'tis one thing to be tempted Aragorn, another thing to fall."
"I am just a man Legolas, for all I am a king. If I fell it is only because my flesh is as weak as the rest of my race. I can understand if the elves do not possess the human emotion of love. I suppose it is too time consuming for you," the last line was said with such contempt that it was almost a sneer. Once again Aragorn recognised his weakness and fought it down.
At his words, Legolas looked down, struggling not to show how much it hurt him. He did love, and deeply. But whether he would ever feel the love of another seemed doubtful. It distressed him that he might live all his life never feeling the touch of another’s lips on his, or experience that joining of souls that others did. Would he be cursed to look forever after Lómódë, so fragile looking and so perfect, yet seemingly unperceiving of his feelings ?
As if sensing the change in him, Aragorn stepped back. "Oh dear gods. What is it about you that inflames my spirit so? Can you not leave me be?"
"How can I leave you be? Have you given any thought to this at all? What about the girl, have you stopped to consider what this is going to do to her? How old is she- 19, 20? You're old enough to be her father!" The word 'grandfather' hovered unsaid, but the thought was there.
"How old are you, Legolas? Two thousand, three? Does that mean we cannot be friends? Age means nothing when faced with love, you should know that by now."
"Do you love her then? Or are you just using her to hurt Arwen?"
"I can't believe you would think I have sunk to that depth. I know I have changed Legolas but do you honestly believe I would sleep with a woman I didn't love?" He broke of once more for it was impossible to say what would come out of his mouth while his blood was up. "Legolas I know you and Arwen were close, but I cannot live my life waiting for something that will never return. You must understand this."
Sighing, Legolas turned back to his friend. "I can't pretend that Iike what you're doing, because I don't. But I don't think I can change your mind on this either." He took a deep breath. "Can we at least call a truce. If we can't agree, at least let us speak of it no longer. I do not like the discord it creates. And Aragorn-" he broke off, resuming only when he saw the questioning look on the king's face, "I hope she makes you happy."
He had meant it, in fact. He genuinely did want his friend to be happy. And they had talked since, many times. Their comradeship had grown again. But always, they had carefully avoided the subject that was sure to spark off another argument. And would continue to do so.
Sighing, he dismissed the memory. Cold it may be, but the crisp winter morning, the pale fingers of the sun streaking the earth, was too beautiful to waste in contemplation of a situation he could not change. Narrowing his eyes purposefully, he raised a seventh arrow to the bow.
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