Rivendell was a place of dreams, except that it existed. Nothing compared to the beauty that Rivendell possessed, even the stories that emanated around Middle Earth barely began to describe the elegant architecture, the lush gardens, and the populace themselves. Aragorn felt himself enveloped by the sensations that he encountered upon entering the city. All at once, they were overwhelming, each demanding his attention, and Aragorn felt the tinge of excitement that he always felt when he came to Rivendell. By trained nature, Aragorn was withdrawn, but Rivendell would make even the loneliest hermit break his shell.

Normally, Aragorn would feed upon his childish desire to explore, but this visit was not like the others. The small hobbits by his side, albeit expressing their own tremendous exuberance, reminded of his purpose and restrained him from disappearing into the streets of the Elven city. They did not know the danger that the ring, which they carried, possessed. They could guess at it, perhaps touch upon darker matters than they had ever thought existed until now, but their sheltered minds had not the capacity to visualize the entire meaning of the existence of the ring. Not yet anyway.

Aragorn led the four battered hobbits to Elrond, who anticipated their arrival. "It is good to see you again, Aragorn," Elrond began, majestically drawing himself to his full, impressive stature.

"If only I were only here to visit," Aragorn replied grimly.

"Not one to dally," Elrond remarked with a small smile. "But, let us not too hastily begin before we know who these young ones are."

The four hobbits introduced themselves, Frodo, Sam, Merry, and Pippin. "Now, let not the hospitality of Rivendell be disputed. My merry hobbits, if you would please enjoy a refreshing bath..." Elrond suggested.

The hobbits tittered in delight, and were led off by an attendant. "Frodo, if you would kindly stay for a moment further." No more of a suggestion was it a command, and the grimy hobbit could not refuse.

"We are alone," Elrond stated, abruptly dropping his formal guise. "I have scheduled a private meeting for the races of the Middle Earth, to discuss the future of that which you carry." Elrond gestured towards Frodo. "Since your arrival, all have assembled but one party." A moments hesitation, and Elrond began again, "Never mind that, the last party is approaching."

Neither Aragorn nor Frodo heard the rapidly approaching footsteps until a few moments later. The footsteps were light but undisguised, seemingly in a hurry.

'Lord Elrond.' The being, now revealed to be an elf, knelt in obvious respect. 'I humbly apologize for my party's tardiness.'

'Legolas, Legolas,' the elder elf chuckled. 'How many times have I told you? Stand, Prince of Mirkwood, you needn't kneel, for we are friends. Don't ask me to repeat that again, young lad.'

'Your mercy is too kind,' Legolas rose and smiled, still adopting a formal air. However, much to the contrary the two elves clasped in a warm hug of familiarity. Apparently the elf had freshened up; instead of wearing traveler's clothing, he wore traditional elven robes in the hues of a muddy green. Aragorn, who had experience with elven royalty, was surprised that this prince wore the clothing of the common elf, the only hint at royalty was the superior way his carried himself. Naturally, the elf was a trained warrior, but to Aragorn he looked more like an ethereal being, his lithe movements hardly rustled his clothing, accentuating his grace, and the loose robes made him appear slighter than he was.

"I was just telling the man and hobbit of the meeting deciding the future of the ring. Now that you are here, we shall meet tomorrow morning. We cannot lose any more time." Elrond turned back to the hobbit, marveling at the two elves. "Frodo, I apologize for delaying you from your bath, do go and once you and your friends are clean, you are welcome to join us for dinner."

Frodo's eyes gleamed at the mention of dinner. How long had it been since he last ate a decent meal? Too long for a hobbit, was all Frodo knew. "Thank you very much Lord Elrond," Frodo chirped as he followed an attendant towards the baths.

"Let us reconvene later, perhaps during dinner? Regretfully I must attend to other matters at hand," Elrond said, signaling that the session was over.

The two remaining princes left. Legolas turned to Aragorn. "Greetings, I am Legolas, Prince of Mirkwood." He inclined his head slightly in respect. "And you are Aragorn yes?"

Slightly startled, Aragorn asked, "How do you know who I am?" He had never met Legolas before, Aragorn was sure of it. He would have certainly remembered meeting the elf prior to today. Although Legolas looked similar to many others of his kind, he had a certain aura about him of respect, superiority, fluid strength, but reigned control. His voice was not unlike the song of birds, but deeper and more melodious than theirs would ever be.

"Still direct as always I presume." Legolas lightly chuckled with the laughter of the birds, an elven quality, though few elves possessed it. Aragorn was entranced beyond that which he cared to think. "Perhaps, I may be allowed to tell of it at dinner? It appears that you are wanted somewhere else." Aragorn followed Legolas' eyes, seeing the hobbits wildly gesturing for his attention.

A slight sign of exasperation escaped worn lips. "Then I can wait until dinner." Aragorn turned towards the hobbits. They had terrible timing, but as their protector, Aragorn had to secede his interests for theirs. Aragorn was desperate to know from where this lofty elf thought he knew him. A mix of thoughts tumbled around the man's mind, chastising himself for being attracted to a lovely being who was all too sublimely arrogant, and all too unreachable. Why would an elf ever love a man?

Legolas went on his way, dropping the smile that adorned his face when talking to the man. Regardless of Aragorn's rugged handsomeness and cordiality, such would usually fascinate the elf, for men were unique in nature, Legolas could not help but reminisce of a time, but a blink of an eye ago. Mindlessly Legolas wandered until he knew where he was, but not how he came to be there. Legolas was so entranced in his thoughts, that he did not even realize that passing of time, for such was the gravity of the elf's nature.

---

Very few years back, Legolas, already serving as a representative for his father, arrived in the kingdom of man to celebrate the birth of the king's first child. The reigning king had invited all from far and wide, and Legolas was there out of courtesy. Although man's time may be short-lived, his blood flows on and revenge is a concept made reality when in the mind of man; instead of risking anger from the king, Legolas came to pay the respects for the Mirkwood elves; but he came, for something more.

The small child was adorned with many gifts, jewels, riches, and land. It was a frail being, however, it's life force flickering in the winds of chance. Small in the hands of its mother, it gave sound that resounded around the palace upon its whims, to which the mother knew not how to react but to cradle her child whispering motherly thoughts. The elf stared at the child, becoming fattened with material wealth, and wondered how it came to be that a tiny child could have such a loud voice.

Legolas offered what only an elf could offer. He offered a promised home for the young prince among the elves; if ever he needs welcome or help, Legolas promised his race's hospitality. And, he promised that he would protect the baby with his life. The king and queen thanked Legolas profusely, aware that their newborn son was being offered an exceptional gift.

Legolas parted the dark brown hair on the baby's forehead and kissed him, as was customary. The baby pulled on Legolas' long sunlit locks, refusing to let go. "We're terribly sorry," the parents apologized, prying the baby's hand loose.

The baby, Aragorn.

---

Legolas dipped the tip of his foot into the stream by which he found himself. His youthful age reflected to him as older than it was. Three thousand years were nothing to an elf, but in merely a quarter of a century, a man could mature to be in his prime. Man is temporary, like the passing wind. The stream massaged Legolas' toes and he felt himself wander off again, deep into his mind, lamenting the passing of time. So engulfed was he, that it became night and had the lights of Rivendell not called him back, Legolas would not have surfaced from his own contemplations.

Aragorn returned to his lodging, heavily aware that Legolas had not shown himself for dinner. Melancholy coated his actions into lethargic movements of a turtle, and Aragorn incorrectly substituted his consumption of fine elvish wine, the single substance that could affect the mind of an elf in ways wine from grapes could not, as the cause. He lay to rest, tired of the night.

The sun rose to find the formation of the Fellowship. The sight of the One Ring called to them all, and it was no hard task to speculate upon how the ring could be used in each of the nine's own interests, no matter how pure the desire was. All felt the desire coursing through their blood, and the immediate repulsiveness from their own consciousness rebuffing the insistent call. A small sigh of relief escaped Aragorn's lips when Frodo volunteered his services in carrying the ring. The innocent hobbit was right for the task.

The nine departed amongst their separate ways, each preparing for departure before the return of the sun again. A second dinner was planned, this as a celebration of the formation of the fellowship, and a farewell. Aragorn was determined to make sure that Legolas arrived. "Legolas!" Aragorn called, instead of heading towards his quarters. "Why weren't you at dinner last night?"

Legolas' pale complexion gave him a small smile. "I had become distracted." He examined who the man had become since infancy, and realized that he was rather handsome. His ranger clothing was replaced with fine silk that did nothing but tantalizingly accentuate his firm body. The faint stubble at the man's chin gave him a rugged appearance, and the uncombed hair added to the affect. Legolas caught himself speculating upon how unique each member of the race of man was, for he had never seen one like Aragorn.

Aragorn watched as Legolas' eyes flitted over him, and wondered what the elf saw. Did he like it? Aragorn shook the thought from his head, Legolas was an elf, and he was but a man, never anything more. If only... Aragorn glanced at the ring. No. Aragorn jerked his gaze from Frodo, back to Legolas. "I would still like to hear of where you know me from."

"I would never miss two Rivendell banquets, and certainly not when it is to wish us well," Legolas told him. Dark thoughts tainted Legolas' mind, he knew it would be his last. The man, Boromir, had been correct in his evaluation. The task at hand was not of easy doing. "I have not forgotten my promise to you."

"Then I shall expect you there."

Legolas briefly watched the man depart. How ironic that elves have the allowance of years in which to live, yet it was a single man who changed Middle Earth, and a single man who would change it again. But what do elves care for Middle Earth? Legolas reminded himself of the days when he would play amongst his siblings, the wonders of Middle Earth infinite and daring him to explore. His father would tell him stories of the mines, the humans, and the beautiful elven cities. The lust for adventure grew with the excitement, and Legolas thought that he would never wish to journey across the sea.

Unbidden, Legolas' train of thought darkened as it drove deeper into his memory. He was the youngest of Thranduil's children, but not rightfully so. It was little known, and Legolas felt the bitterness well up at his repressed memory of his father's true last child. Legolas cherished the memories of his younger sister, yet they were permanently tarnished. The day Legolas became an adult was the day his sister journeyed beyond Middle Earth. Legolas' sister had been spoiled by a man, and could no longer bear Middle Earth. As she left, Legolas felt himself harden in reaction, for it was the breaching of a child's protected world, and with the first taste of darkness the innocence ran. He felt his features twist in slight agony. Reason would have it that men had to be watched.

But Legolas found his reason crumble to dust with the arrival of Aragorn.

Elvish wine meandered its way down many throats, and Legolas' was no exception. The warm fizzing it left behind lightened his heart, if only temporarily. He did not want to be reminded of the quest, but Aragorn's presence across the table did little to diminish the thought. He gazed at the elf with intensity, watching as each drop of wine found its way down the pearly column. "Would you have me tell you of our meeting?" Legolas abruptly asked, shaking Aragorn from his reverie.

"Yes, I am quite anxious to find out. I rarely forget those whom I've met, and I'm afraid that I have forgotten you."

"Tis excusable that you have forgotten me, since it was when you were but a few weeks old when I first met you. I was there to offer you the gifts of the elves."

Aragorn gazed at Legolas with shock. Smoothly, Aragorn hid it, but not before Legolas caught the emotion. "What was it that you gave me?" Aragorn inquired.

"Simply, I gave you the hospitality of the elves," Legolas caught himself before he added "and my life." Galadriel had warned him, that Aragorn was not to know of Legolas' second promise. The day would come when Legolas would protect Aragorn from a fatal wound, offering his life instead, but if Aragorn knew he would attempt to change his fate. 'It's the only way the Fellowship will succeed; the fate of Middle Earth depends upon this single man's survival,' Galadriel had whispered in his head.

Then, Legolas had wondered with bitterness why he cared for Middle Earth. But he already knew the answer. He could not knowingly allow the millions of lives on Middle Earth to perish, in return for his. With an imperceptible sorrow, Legolas gave his life to Middle Earth.

Suddenly, the dinner that Lord Elrond had prepared did not appeal to Legolas. "I must excuse myself," Legolas sadly told Aragorn, getting up. Aragorn rose alongside. "No, you should stay."

"What ails you, Legolas?" Aragorn whispered. He saw the elf's sadness flit by within his eyes, but from what, he did not know. 'I will not have you leave without me unless I know why.'

'Why,' Legolas softly repeated, weighting the word with gravity. 'That I cannot say.'

The elf left when Aragorn did not reply immediately. Sitting again, Aragorn's brow creased in frustration. He desperately wanted to gain the elf's trust, and for some obscure reason, Aragorn knew that if he did not gain access to this secret, the elf would perish. An elven secret is well kept, but Aragorn had long lived with the elves. He would find his way, the man was determined.

The fellowship departed early the following morning. Legolas attempted to avoid Aragorn, but the man seemed to be everywhere he was. It was meant to be a failing attempt, Legolas realized. Aragorn was irresistible to the elf- so much man but so much elf. It was the unique combination of characteristics from both races that lured Legolas to the man. It made him forget the sorrow of never being able to see across the sea... and of his sister's sadness. His long years would culminate into something of significance, for although Legolas knew he could never return to his childhood, perhaps other young elves could keep it with them longer. He knew not how it had come to pass, but he found that he would willingly give his life for Aragorn. But the sadness stayed behind, reminiscent of possibilities Legolas was too afraid to take, even with his time becoming ever shorter.

Aragorn's eyes imperceptibly followed the elf's every movement. Brilliant blue eyes met his and tore away. A light blush tinged the edges of Legolas' face, but Aragorn could not be certain with the dim lighting of his torch. The dark halls of Moria were sullen with unnatural death, and imaginary shadows playing upon the walls. They danced their way, just beyond the reaches of the torch, hemming the Fellowship in. Aragorn knew not what to do; Legolas was sinking into himself and no matter what Aragorn attempted, Legolas would not divulge the source of his sadness. It was eating Aragorn's heart to see Legolas' eyes full of regret. They stared beyond him, through him, but also into him, piercing his soul with their grief.

The sadness weighted in Legolas' soul increased with the death of Gandalf, and the elf knew his time was now soon. Aragorn could feel the sorrow emanating from them all in waves; he knew the fellowship must rest before it continued. "We must make Lothlorien by nightfall," Aragorn insisted.

'Lothlorien,' Legolas muttered. Galadriel waited there. Aragorn watched Legolas in hope of further enlightenment, but none was provided. Instead, Legolas cast his eyes upon Aragorn, filling the man with need to comfort the elf.

It was not until their blindfolds were removed that Aragorn would next see the elf's eyes. In contrast to Rivendell, Lothlorien was a place of holy beauty. Light filtered through the trees, reminding the entire company that there was much beauty left in Middle Earth. Yet Legolas' eyes did not light in wonderment, rather their weariness increased. Soon, it would be soon.

I would have you come with me to the mirror, Legolas A voice drifted in and out of his head, coloring it with unspoken words.

That I would have as well

You have faithfully kept the future hidden

Yes

But I cannot know for how much longer

What is it that you see?

Your resolve will crumble; the truth will be known

The connection was lost; Legolas lifted his eyes to gaze upon the lady. 'Tonight,' she mouthed.

Aragorn watched Legolas, even as his private conversation with the lady occurred.

What troubles you so?

Legolas. He is hiding something. Do you know of it?

You are both hiding from each other

What do you mean my lady?

What you hide from him, he hides from you; whilst he realizes it, you do not

Aragorn's eyes tore to Galadriel, in time to see her mouth 'tonight' to Legolas.

Do not tempt me, my lady!

You will not realize, not until it is too late But Galadriel would reveal no more.

The Lady motioned to Haldier, standing attentively to the side. "Come," Haldir beckoned. "Your quarters are awaiting."

Tonight, Aragorn decided. Tonight was the night that he would reveal Legolas' secret, and discover his own.