Title: That Moment  
Author (including email): Jadey – Jadey22@hotmail.com  
Pairing(s): Aragorn/Legolas  
Rating: PG - 13  
Summary: Aragorn thinks of an important moment.  
Disclaimer: I own nothing.  
 
That Moment  
 
It was that moment that started it all, as I look back I still marvel at its 
importance, the doors it opened.  
 
The darkness of Moria was suffocating. I feared for Legolas, a thing of 
such light and beauty trapped in such evil darkness. However, he was as 
strong and kind as ever, often walking slowly at the back of our party to 
ensure the safety of the little ones. I swear he knew my eyes were upon 
even in the deadly blackness of the mines.  
 
I always watched him, quick to turn away in case I was seen. I was 
captivated by his light and beauty. He was so gentle, benevolent, and truly 
breathtaking to behold. I thought him to be the fairest elf in Mirkwood, 
possibly the fairest elf of all.  
 
I had little time to bathe in the thought of him as the orcs and their cave 
troll descended. I took my rightful place beside the elf as he readied his 
bow. Such power lurked there, such lethal accuracy, the onslaught did not 
stand a chance. Many fell before they even gained entrance.  

A flash of fear raced through my mind as the crave troll appeared crashing 
through the remains of the doorway. What use would Legolas’ trusty bow 
be here? A well-placed shot to the heart seemed only to anger it and 
Legolas gracefully drew his blades.  

I myself was now so immersed in the battle I lost sight of my love for my 
moments, but I heard his grasp from behind me as the fork penetrated 
Frodo’s chest.  

Our elven companion was not deterred as he felled the troll with an arrow 
to the mouth.  

Relief spread through the company as Frodo was once again brought to his 
feet. This was only to be replaced by terror, as we were once again 
surrounded in the great hall.  

I heard Gimili’s laugh as the evil around us retreated, but from what would 
they flee?  

Gandalf soon answered my question.  
 
A Balrog.  
 
A slight hesitation at my left once again drew my attention to the object of 
my affections. I saw something in Legolas’ eyes that I had never seen 
before. Horror. He slowly lowered his bow as if aware of it’s uselessness. 
That frightened me more than anything else.  
 
We ran as Gandalf instructed, I glanced ahead nervously, willing Legolas 
to remain within sight. We ran so hard, so blindly, that Boromir nearly fell 
to his doom. I chastised myself for the brief jealousy that coursed through 
my veins as Legolas rushed to catch the Son of Gondor and they stumbled 
back onto the stone steps.  
 
 
I smile to myself; the moment I will hold dear for the rest of my life grows 
near in my mind. Strange, how things now begin to slow down in my 
memory, almost slow motion.  
I look around, all is well, and I keep watch in peace, the hobbits and dwarf 
snore loudly behind me. In contrast, my lover sleeps at my side, he does 
not make a sound, his open eyes see nothing.  
 
The starry night draws me back to my thoughts, as Moria seemingly grows 
darker still….  
 
 
Legolas leaps to the head of the group, and to my horror, he does not even 
hesitate as he approaches the gap in the staircase. He jumps it with ease, as 
I knew he would, and motions for Gandalf to leap.  
All were across with the exception of Frodo and I when the gap widened, 
the stone crumbled both behind and below. An idea strikes me and I 
instruct the hobbit to lean forward, our weight throws us into the arms of 
our companions. It throws me into the arms of Legolas. He soft touch and 
searing warmth are too much, I fear I will betray myself and reveal my 
innermost desires.  
 
Legolas would not want me. A man, a creature of weakness, the reason for 
this quest. He is beautiful, noble, a true prince to his people; I am a king 
merely by title.  
But then I saw it, as he released me and turned to look at me. I could see it 
all in his eyes. The lust, fear, desire, and most of all, love. My heart 
skipped a beat. He returned my feelings. We had no time to act upon it 
there, but from the look upon his face, he now knew as much as I did.  
 
That night in Lothlorien had been magical, despite the loss of Gandalf.  
 
 
I still blushed to think of it now; I turn to gaze upon my elf once more. To 
my surprise, his eyes see more now than they did, he sits up leaning on his 
elbows.  

“What has awakened you my love?” I whisper in elvish.  

“You…what were you thinking about?”  

“ That moment.” I answer and bent down to cover his lips with my own. I 
crave more, but I am on watch. I pull away with regret, raising an 
eyebrow. He smiles in return, but it fades quickly. I go to ask him what is 
wrong but am cut short my his movement.  

His bow is raised and an arrow is notched before the word even passes his 
lips.  
 
“Orcs.”  
 
 
 Title: That Moment  
Author: Jadey – Jadey22@hotmail.com  
Pairing(s): Aragorn/Legolas  
Rating: R  
Summary: Aragorn thinks of an important moment.  
Disclaimer: I own nothing.  
 

The Attack

As soon as I had made out the sound of approaching feet I had raised my 
bow and guard. It was clear that they came in great numbers. I feared for 
Aragorn’s safety though I tried not to favour him over the others. I was so 
anxious that I was prepared for battle long before I had even informed 
Aragorn of the situation.

He jumped to his feet and unsheathed Anduril, his grey eyes shining with 
readiness. He cried out to the rest of the camp. They too raised themselves 
and weapons. To my surprise, Boromir appeared suddenly from the trees. 
Where had he been? He appeared rested and equipped for the coming fray 
though I had not seen him previously in the camp. I shook my head and 
returned focus to the weapon in my ivory hands, trying not to admire 
Aragorn in the spare moments we had before our enemy reached us. 

Aragorn was desperately looking for the foe; I knew he could not see 
them. But they were there. He had to trust my elven senses. Any second 
now I said to myself, my shot had to be perfectly timed. The following 
seconds seemed like an eternity, I send a silent prayer for Aragorn, 
needing him to be prepared and safe. I could not bear to lose him. Then I 
let the arrow fly. 

Square in the chest, the orc fell quickly and I swiftly notched another 
arrow, more would follow.

That they did. Before long we were surrounded, orcs in every direction – 
except one. I had no choice, my bow replaced in its quiver; I leaped for the 
nearest branch. From my new vantage point I was about to unleash an 
attack upon the unsuspecting adversary when I heard a cry. Frodo was 
surrounded on the other side of our now desecrated camp. No one was in 
any position to help him. I made my decision, again withdrawing my 
weapons; I began to make my journey across the canopy bounding from 
tree to tree. I quickly reached the tree directly above the stricken hobbit. 
Hooking my feet around a branch, I flipped downwards, scooping up the 
halfling gently. I pulled him into the foliage where he would be hidden 
from the prying eyes of the demons below us.

 I watched in horror as the orcs began hacking angrily at the trunk of the 
tree in which we stood. From the age and almost audible pain of the 
beautiful structure that housed us, it would not stand much more of this. 
We had to move, and hastily. 

“Get on my back…hurry.”

The hobbit clambered upwards awkwardly; I braced myself and moved to 
the edge of the branch, as nimble as a mountain goat I leapt the nearest 
tree, just as the said branch gave way. 

Frodo was shaking violently; I removed my cloak and wrapped it around 
carefully.

“Hush…all will be well.” A promise I intended to keep. 

I gracefully jumped down onto the ground, drawing my daggers as I did 
so. I fought with renewed vigour and purpose, caring and protecting for 
the small childlike figure above me. I battled for many minutes keeping a 
perimeter around the laden tree. I glanced over to Aragorn, clad in black, a 
look of great intensity of his glorious face. How I wanted him, I banished 
the thought from my mind. I had to focus.

He seemed to dance around the foe wielding his sword high, deadly and 
graceful all at once. A sight to behold - so different from myself, still as 
beautiful. His grace in battle reminded me of my own nimble feet.

My thoughts were cut short by an orc spear glancing off my face and into 
the base of the tree I had to protect. Blood poured down my cheek and 
down the neck of my moss tunic implying a more serious injury. As I our 
eyes locked I caught a moment of concern in Aragorn’s face. I sighed, as I 
would have to explain myself later.

However, I had dealt easily with most of the surrounding orcs, my lover 
and Boromir fared just as well. Gimili fought bravely, shielding the 
remaining three hobbits. I went aid him as I heard a strangled cry, Frodo. I 
turned expecting to see a horrifying visage of orcs climbing the tree that I 
had placed him in. I did not. I had to bite back a smile as I realised as the 
hobbit (in perfect safety) was merely panicking over his height. 

“One second Frodo, I’m coming.”

I climbed tree and went to reassure him when I heard a faint sound from 
behind. A slight swish. I did not react fast enough, covering my mouth and 
Frodo’s as arrow pierced my shoulder blades.

Aragorn could not know, the last thing he needed now was a distraction 
from what faced him.

I motioned silence before removing my hand from the hobbit’s mouth.

“Some secrets are meant to be kept Frodo, for the good of those around. 
Though, often they cannot remain so for long.” I said with a bitter smile as 
way of explanation to Frodo. He made me promise I would get help after 
this was all over. Stubborn hobbit.

I winced as with help pulled the arrow from my back, the wound would 
heal. The sounds below had subsided. I allowed a look downwards and 
saw as Aragorn ruthlessly slaughtered the final orc. The small hobbit 
beneath me had shouted for Aragorn before I had chance to protest. He 
turned and walked slowly towards us.

I brought the arrow around my body and up to my face in order to 
examine it. I gasped as a noted a gritty blue substance that tarnished the 
tip.

“You’re going to tell Aragorn and get help now, aren’t you Legolas? 
Legolas?”

As the hobbit spoke, blackness had appeared the corners of my vision; the 
world was fading. I shakily rose to my feet as the hobbit continued to call 
my name.

“Legolas?”

Aragorn was mere feet away as I stumbled back unto a branch that wasn’t 
there.

The last thing I remember is Aragorn screaming my name as I hit the 
ground with a thud.



Desperate Times

Again as I watched helplessly, the world slowed, almost grinding to a halt 
as my beloved hit the ground.

I had seen from afar how he rose, a bizarre look on his face, one of 
confusion, yet comprehension. Almost acceptance. His left foot edged 
backwards. My faith in his abilities such burned strong, I told myself he 
merely adjusted his stance. That, of course was not the case. I could not 
have been more than ten feet away when he first began to fall. I madly 
observed, even in my race to get to him, something fall from his hand. I 
knew that my shock driven, split second hesitation, my complacency had 
cost my dear. That tiny pause as he stepped back meant I would not reach 
him in time. I foolishly screamed, even if he were to react, revive; now 
mid fall, he would still not escape injury. I was doomed to watch him. The 
thud as he impacted the ground was sickening. I rushed to his side, sliding 
unceremoniously on my knees. Gimili turned away expecting grievous 
injury or even death, shielding the hobbits from the sight. I was grateful 
for this one act of kindness, at least now Legolas would have some 
dignity. I quickly ran my hand over my beloved’s body, searching for 
injuries that would prevent me from moving him. Prevent me from turning 
him over, how I longed to see his face. I had noticed a wound between the 
shoulder blades; it was bleeding profusely. I instinctively ripped fabric 
from the sleeve of my tunic and applied pressure, calling for bandages. 
Though I knew that Legolas’ tunic would tear more easily, I would not do 
him this injustice.

To my surprise it was Boromir who reacted swiftly to my call and was 
rifling rabidly through my pack. Until recently he had been standing 
numbly at my side, his jaw agape. The sound of his sword hitting the 
ground had been timed perfectly with that of Legolas.

I frowned cursing, the wound alone would not cause Legolas to fall, and 
the fall alone should not make him lose consciousness. Something else 
was at work here.

“Aragorn?”

Normally I would have ignored the ring bearer at such a time as this, I 
needed to concentrate at the task in hand. But something in his tiny voice 
made me look up. Fear I would have expected, but there was a slight 
quaver in the name, it chilled my heart. 
Frodo had slid down from the tree above and held something before him. 
He held it as if it were fragile, yet deadly. I imagined it was how I would 
carry the sword of Islidur. It was an arrow, no doubt the one that had 
pierced my elf’s flesh. I regarded it with anger and hatred, though knew of 
its importance. I snatched it harshly and looked closer. My breath caught 
in my throat.

I knew nothing of it, nothing of its content, purpose or origin yet it ruled 
my thoughts. A poison. That I was certain of. I noted its appearance and 
handed the precious article to Boromir. I was sick of it. I needed to more 
know of this substance, from its violent effects, I deduced that this vile 
concoction must be intended solely for elves. Nothing had previously 
affected Legolas so. 

I had to get a message to Lothlorien; I desperately needed counsel. The 
elves there seemed wise, worldly, more so than in Rivendell. How would I 
reach them? Lothlorien was many days journey from here, and a perilous 
one at that. Something I could neither risk nor afford.

In such desperate times, you must make use of what is around you. A 
voice spoke out inside my head. I knew that voice, I knew of when those 
words had been spoken.

*************************

Legolas and I lay in a most beautiful clearing, the woods of Lothlorien 
were inspiring. It was late at night, nay, early morning. Last night we had 
declared our love. My mood was joyous; I had waited for this moment for 
so long and wanted to share the news with all I knew. As I shared the 
sentiment with him, Legolas smiled beneath me. We kissed passionately, 
exploring each other, my hands roamed all over his perfect body tugging 
at the ties of his silver tunic and leggings. Legolas then pulled away, I 
released him immediately. Had I done something wrong? To my relief 
Legolas merely smiled again and then, for some unknown reason, 
whistled. He laughed at my confused expression, and indicated something 
that had appeared at his side. A sparkling white dove. It cooed softly.

“You said you wished to tell the rest of the fellowship, it might make 
things easier if you did anyway. I thought you would be in no mood to 
move from your current position, and frankly neither am I.” 

He turned to the dove, which he called Perinue, and told her in elvish to 
collect the rest of the fellowship. 

My mouth was still open when she flew off into the distance. The elf’s 
eyes twinkled in amusement.

“In such desperate times, you must make use of what is around you.”

*************************

The words still echoed through my mind, I owed it to my lover to heed his 
words. I whistled attempting to emulate Legolas’ call. I heard and saw 
nothing. Would she only reply to elves, or only Legolas? I turned back to 
his prone body, tears shining in my eyes. 

Then I heard a familiar coo. The swish that had signalled Legolas’ doom 
may now sound his saviour.

Perinue landed to the left of Legolas and I quickly informed her of the 
situation. The fellowship looked on, sure of my madness. She took off as 
soon as I had said my piece.

In the two hours that followed we made Legolas as comfortable as we 
could. We lit a fire and salvaged what we could of our camp. I had 
attempted to burn away the poison to no avail and placed herbs on his face 
and back to numb the pain of the wounds there. He had began to moan; 
perhaps he would awake. 

We were all crowded round him as the dove returned. I stepped away from 
the party and untied the parchment from around the bird’s feet. 

Estel, this is indeed grave news.

I read on, the words meaning nothing, I saw them but I took nothing in. I 
was disrupted by activity ahead. He was awake.

I rushed to him; he thrashed around wildly his eyes still closed.

“Legolas, calm, ‘tis I Estel, love.”

This subdued him only momentarily. His eyes opened but did not focus. I 
attempted to stop him from speaking further. I had stopped the pain, and 
would eventually know more of the poison and how to cure it once I re-
read the parchment. Things would be fine. But alas, his voice rang clear.

“Nay, beloved, you do not understand. I-I I’m blind.”





It Begins

The darkness was deeper than that of Moria, though I could see just as 
little. All I could hear around me were horrified gasps. I could distinguish 
each person, and could even make out Boromir bending down to collect 
his sword. Aragorn. His reaction struck me as the arrow had penetrated my 
heart. He had let out a tiny cry, though obviously tried to hold back so as 
not to panic me. Perhaps he had forgotten that my hearing was just as 
sharp as ever. His soft words floated into my head.

“You’re sure?” I smiled at him, despite the situation. What a stupid 
question. I swear I even heard him chuckle.

“Yes, Estel, I would think I’d know.” From my side came a disgruntled 
sound. Boromir. I had never truly felt comfortable around the man, though 
I had always put that down to not knowing him well enough. Since his 
strange disappearance and reappearance during the battle I had vowed to 
keep a closer eye on him. Now, I thought bitterly, that would not be 
possible.

“I’m there’s something we can do, Legolas, do not fear, it may not be 
permanent. I have received news from Lothlorien regarding the ----.”

He was scrabbling desperately to make me feel better. He had injected a 
false light-heartedness and optimism into his speech. It was not becoming 
of him. I would have made comment if not of the strange way he had 
stopped mid sentence. A realisation, but of what?

“What is it?” My words full of dread, the rustling of parchment was my 
only answer. I tried to stand but large hands pushed me back down, just a 
little too hard. I winced in pain. I could almost see the look that Aragorn 
shot Boromir despite my blindness. He was so protective, but now I 
wished to know what concerned him. For the first time, someone other 
than Aragorn addressed me, a hobbit. 

“He’s reading, Legolas.” I was sure that was Merry.

“Yeah, it’s the letter the bird brought from Lothlorien.” Undoubtedly 
Pippin. 

Bird? I searched my mind for a bird that could fit the description. 
Obviously Frodo was aware of my thinking.

“The white one. Peri- Peri- something.”

“Perinue.”  I quickly corrected. This evidently pleased the fellowship; they 
were all smiling at me I could tell. 

“Stop that!” I feigned annoyance. I small ‘huh’ was heard in the direction 
of Gimili, who had taken up a modest position leaning against the tree. 
Aragorn drew himself closer, so close I heard hear him breathing, I 
imagined his face to be close to mine. I reached out, grateful to find his 
cheek, I ran my hand down it, stroking softly. I almost jumped when he 
started to speak, even though he whispered.

“I have reread this message from Galadriel, she knows of what ails you 
my love. A poison known as elisur. It is designed to attack elves 
specifically and is quite . . . . .” He paused looking for the right word. I 
raised my hand to his face once more to urge him on.

“Dangerous. What the lady has now makes more sense than when I first 
read them. Elisur attacks the senses ridding the victim of them one by one; 
the elf becomes very vulnerable and is often killed easily if attacked.”

Again he paused; this was so hard for him. I needed to know what he had 
to say. I willed him strength.

“There is a cure, if administered in time the effects are reversible.” I could 
hear his joy, and visualised the twinkle that always graced his eyes when 
he was in this mood. A mood I had rarely seen him in, the last time had to 
be Lothlorien. I asked the questions on everyone’s lips.

“How long do I have? Can they prepare this cure in Lothlorien?” I 
shuddered as my voice betrayed me. My normally strong voice shook and 
faltered; my fear was evident.

Aragorn brushed his lips against my cheek and whispered into my ear in 
soft elvish.

“They are preparing it as we speak my love, the time-span varies 
depending on the strength of the elf, and you are very strong. Do not fear. 
I will let nothing hurt you Legolas, you are still a valued member of the 
fellowship and we will get you to Lothlorien that I promise you.”

His words held such conviction that I would dare not to challenge them, 
even if he had been telling me that my golden locks had turned jet black. 

Days had passed, I felt weak but not ill. I found myself still able to use my 
bow, though I now relied on my enemy to make a mistake. I picked them 
out using sound alone. Aragorn reassured that my aim was as accurate as 
ever. I had expected the fellowship to treat me as a child, holding my hand 
as they took me anywhere, but they learnt just to walk alongside me.

The darkness I lived in became easier to live with gradually as we set off 
towards Lothlorien. I knew of what around me as we were merely going 
back over ground we had previously tread. I spoke with Frodo of my 
crushing guilt at holding up the quest. The small creature reassured me 
that was as important in this journey as even the ring itself and a few days 
more travel would not prevent the defeat of evil. I found myself taking 
comfort in his words.

The emotion I felt more was helplessness and uselessness. It had been my 
job in our party to forewarn of any danger. What use was a blind elf?

I had fallen to the back of the group to converse with the hobbit; I 
preferred it there. At least at the back I knew of what was ahead of me.

To my surprise, I heard Aragorn call to me angrily.

“Legolas, why do you ignore me so?”

Ignore him? I had not ignored anyone.

“I have called you three times and asked you to join me at the head of the 
party, yet still you remain here.”

I blanched. My lover’s tone softened as began to call me once more.

However it was the hobbit that surprised me by being ahead of everyone. 
The awful thought had struck him too. He tugged at my leggings.

“You didn’t hear him did you?”   





The Fall From Grace

When it had first been discovered that my lover’s hearing had also been 
affected, my world slowly began to crumble away. It had become clear 
how fast the poison was beginning to take effect. This wasn’t fair; Legolas 
was caring, strong and noble. How could he succumb so quickly and 
easily to such an evil creation?

It concerned me how Boromir stuck to Legolas as closely as his he did to 
his sword. He hovered around him, grasping at him, so close he almost 
made the blinded creature fall. Whenever Legolas stopped, unsure if he 
heard or felt some approaching enemy, Boromir would crowd and 
question him, asking him if he would like help in preparing his bow, or 
even the protection of the mighty Son of Gondor.

How I wished to mention that Legolas, though blind was far from 
defenceless, and had been able to draw his bow and notch an arrow with 
his eyes closed for nearly three thousand years. Seeing irritation and hurt 
on the face of the elf I made a point of taking his arm and leading him 
forward.

But days had passed, perhaps a week since then. Lothlorien was drawing 
closer and Legolas showed little signs of worsening. The substance had 
obviously been diluted in the bloodstream and now lacked its potency. I 
had spoken to the elf about this and his feelings one night.

“It is as if I am underwater. I can hear sounds and people close to me just 
as I always have, and loud noises I can hear from distance. But other 
sounds are muffled. I could hear you as you called to me on the mountain 
the other day, but I could not make out your words. I dismissed the strange 
sound as perhaps the wind or a small creature in snow, though I do profess 
to not knowing what it was.”

He smiled, the first I had seen from him in a long time. We made love that 
night. Slower, more compassionate than usual. We try and hide private 
activities from our friends, though we feel no shame in our relationship. It 
is just inappropriate at times. This celibacy usually means that our 
lovemaking is wild, needy, very passionate, which suits me just fine. That 
night it was slow and tender. I took control (a very arousing pastime) and 
was considerate of his needs. The act was still very fulfilling for us both. 

In the eight days since, we have merely stolen sweet kisses when we 
believed no one could see. Nay, I tell a lie. My face reddens as I think of 
one shameful moment (I, myself the leader of the party should set an 
example) where we showed complete lack of control and enjoyed a 
clandestine meeting in a gorse bush. I paid the price however, and am I 
now riddled with thorns in the most unfortunate of places. I will have to 
ask my beautiful elf to aid me later. I am sure he will insist on a thorough 
examination.

  The dilution of the blue fluid, coupled with my elven beloved’s inner 
strength, meant that the poison’s effects had begun to ebb. The let up had 
been enough to even bring a smile to my lips and cheer to the fellowship. 
For the first time in many days we relented to Pippin and finally indulged 
in second breakfast. A very light-hearted affair as we all sat crossed 
legged knee-to-knee around a small fire. Now out of the mountains we 
were able to hunt and forage more fruitfully. Legolas and Pippin did us 
proud; we cooked up old sausages, newly picked mushrooms and fresh 
bacon. We were all hungry in reality, although not keen to admit this so 
soon after a meal. All enjoyed the event. Though I do remember a strange 
occurrence. 

Legolas had been flanked by Boromir and myself, the elf’s perfect hands 
led in my lap, I was happy to have them there. Though I do recall 
receiving a strange look from the other man. I brushed it off as nothing. 
About half way through the meal Boromir led back behind Legolas, a 
blatant declaration that he had finished. 

Though I must learn to curb my jealously, for my other half despites it, I 
have to say I did not like to the way Boromir was regarding my elf. His 
eyes had undoubtedly fallen on that perfect elven behind and possessed an 
unmistakable look of lust. Perhaps foolishly I attempted to counter this by 
tightly grasping and kissing the hand on my knee.

My lover raised his head and regarded me quizzically. He had obviously 
been startled and confused by the sudden moment. I began to raise my 
hand to stroke his face and hair by way of apology and comfort when he 
jerked suddenly. A touch of surprise and anger flashed through his 
unseeing eyes and distorted his striking face. My initial thought was that 
this had been my doing. Had he somehow sensed my intention to touch 
him, did he object to that? 

I banished the thought from my mind. He would have no reason to pull 
away from my touch, and had never done so before.

“What is wrong?” I asked in quick and quiet elvish.

“Nothing.” He replied without a hint of hesitation. I was immediately 
suspicious and saw the elf look swiftly towards Boromir, turning his face 
away from me. Whatever Legolas had indicated, the human reacted with a 
look of strained innocence and indignation. It was as if he were being 
silently accused or reprimanded for something. That I did not like, not at 
all.






Knowing What I Know Now

How dare he touch me like that? The words raced through my mind 
dripping with venom, I had not yet known I was capable of such anger. 
Boromir had no right or my permission to touch my body so, and to act all 
innocent – that was the final straw. 

I had never liked the man or trusted him. He disappeared too often and 
devoted too much time to observing me. Often I would turn to find him 
staring at me. I had tried to be amicable for the sake of the fellowship and 
Aragorn, but I would not waste my efforts any longer. He was walking 
alongside me again I could tell, the Son of Gondor possessed a particular 
odour and he was close enough for me to hear him breathe. I made my 
discomfort obvious and moved away quickly, too quickly. I stumbled, 
only to be caught by an unhappy dwarf murmuring of how I almost killed 
him. This momentary lapse, which caused no injury, was enough to halt 
the entire fellowship, warrant questioning from all seven of them and for 
Aragorn to propose a rest on account of my ‘tiredness.’ If it were not so 
tragic I would have laughed.

Aragorn remained close at my side for the rest of the day, clearly certain I 
would collapse at any moment. This did not help my situation; I was 
attempting to pluck up the courage to tell him that my hearing had 
worsened noticeably. For the first time I began to muse over how truly 
cruel this poison that seeped through my veins actually was. It targeted 
solely elves, attacking them where it would cause most damage, most 
vulnerability. 

Most of my noble people fought with bows and arrows, what use was a 
blind archer? 

Even more of my people avoided danger and conflict all together by 
fleeing when they heard approaching enemies. What use is a deaf elf? 

A tiny voice inside my head answered the question for me.

 None.

 You are useless, weak. 

You can no longer protect the fellowship.

You are no longer a true elf, you are no use to your people. 

You call yourself a prince.

I blinked back silver tears; if my lover were not so close I would have let 
them fall. I knew what was happening. My blindness was driving me mad, 
as the darkness had threatened to in Moria. What had been my ray of light 
there? A warm hand encircling my own was the response to my question. I 
turned my face away slightly to gather myself before Aragorn saw. I 
believe I succeeded. I even graced him with a smile hoping to reassure, 
but unable to see his face I don’t know what effect it had. That was 
possibly the one thing I missed seeing most of all. Not the trees, forests or 
Anor as some might think, but I longed to see my beloved’s chiselled face 
again.

Suddenly the man who held me sped up, dragging me along with him. I 
may have even heard the sound of laughter. I was slightly hard of hearing, 
but by no means deaf. I got the impression of being surrounded by the 
party; I heard gasps and chuckles. Something had evidently pleased them. 
I found myself smiling too, still unaware of the reason. Four pairs of 
hobbit hands began clawing and tugging at my clothing. I released 
Aragorn and bent down.

“Is that it? Is it really Pip?”

“Of course it is fool! Nothing else shines like that!”

“Well Legolas shines like that . . . . don’t you Legolas?”

“You really are one of the most stupid hobbits I’ve -- ”

Sam cut them off with a deep sigh. Frodo came between them.

“Quiet you two! Legolas, great news! We can see Lothlorien!”

That truly was great news though I was dismayed at having to be told of 
this, I reached out my arms wide and managed to scoop up all four 
protesting hobbits and hug them tightly. Behind my shoulder, Aragorn 
laughed merrily. A rare but truly wonderful sound. The hobbits adjusted 
themselves squabbling furiously over whom I was really hugging, and 
were soon comfortable in my arms. I would miss them after the quest, as I 
would all the fellowship.

We continued on with added vigour. The bright light of Lothlorien can be 
seen from many miles away. We still had a long journey ahead of us, but 
the goal could now be reached. The fellowship had done me proud, 
abandoning everything to reach Lothlorien as soon as possible. Even 
Pippin survived on three meals a day for my sake.

The smile creeping onto my face vanished when I heard something. My 
hearing was still more sensitive than most and I owed to the group to 
remain alert.

I heard it again, a horrific wailing, almost screeching. It was very 
distinctive. Unmistakeable. I knew this moment would come. The path to 
the golden woods was too long to travel without encountering any 
difficulty. Now Middle Earth’s only blind archer would have to prepare 
himself for battle.

From the lack of reaction from the rest of the fellowship, they had not 
made out the noises I had. I had succeeded. I had been of use. I quashed 
my joy and pride and returned focus to the all-important task in hand.

“Aragorn!” I shouted as I drew my bow and notched an arrow. If had 
known where Boromir was I would have thrown him a look.

“Orcs – they are coming from the west, fewer than last time.” I allowed a 
small amount of relief to creep into my voice. Aragorn did not respond 
verbally, but the sound of swords being drawn from all directions was 
enough for me. The ranger had run over to me as I knew he would but 
merely stood close. Listening hard, I raised my bow in the direction of the 
sounds. I waited and waited, strangely reminiscent of the last battle weeks 
ago. Only now instead of waiting for the perfect moment, my first glimpse 
of the enemy, I was waiting the first mistake, the first mislaid foot. The 
snap of a twig was my cue, how it felt good to release the arrow into the 
air, the motion still as natural as it had always been. As I notched another 
arrow, Aragorn gently patted my back before he charged, letting me know 
I was on target. My lover would never leave my side unless he knew I 
would be safe. My heart sank to my shoes as I felt Boromir breathing 
down my neck.

“Aragorn fights well, he has rid us of much of our foe.” 

I nodded, releasing another arrow, the bow trembled slightly. Sadly, this 
did not go unnoticed. 

“Do not fear I will protect you . . . . my precious.” His tongue coiled 
around the phrase as it was reduced to a near hiss. I shuddered, I had heard 
that phrase spoken before, but not by him and not referring to me. 

I would have moved away if a large hand had not grabbed at my collar. I 
would not  lower my bow to remove it. Thankfully there was no need to. I 
could make out Aragorn footsteps coming ever closer and soon another, 
tearing my tunic, removed the hand forcefully.

Good. I thought, unable to hide my pleasure that Boromir had been 
caught. I knew now that Aragorn and his protective nature would watch 
him day and night. He would not bother me again easily. 

A hand was once again at my collar, but it was warm and gentle, adjusting 
torn fabric and no doubt checking for marks on my delicate skin. I’m 
guessing he found one for I made out a low-pitched growl as my bow was 
taken from me and replaced on my back. The battle was over, not only had 
I survived but also I had killed an orc and saved the lives of my friends.

I felt the over whelming urge to bathe now, and told Aragorn this as we set 
up camp for the night. He motioned that there was a lake not far from 
here. He would not allow me to go alone however. I smiled when he 
offered to join me. Then, a hobbit cried out claiming an injury. Could it 
have been Sam? I told Aragorn to stay and tend to the little one. It was 
then that Boromir offered to accompany me. Aragorn began to protest 
loudly, but I silenced him with a shake of the head. This would be a 
perfect opportunity to confront him, assess his motives. This may all just 
be a harmless crush or misunderstanding, or it could be something all 
together worse. If is was, then the large man may begin to target the 
smaller, weaker members of the fellowship. It was my job to find out.

Knowing what I know now, I would have never made that gesture.






The Gift Of Hindsight

I should never have relented to Legolas, despite his confidence and strong 
will. However, I had an injured Hobbit to tend to. Or at least I thought I 
did. The sight at first was horrific. Samwise was rolling around on the 
ground in obvious agony, emitting a low moan and clutching at his mid-
drift. My first thought was large wound, perhaps inflicted by an orc spear. 
On closer inspection I saw no wound or blood. I angrily began to 
interrogate the little one, demanding to know what he had consumed.

Nothing since breakfast he claimed, though his shamed expression gave 
him away.

“I found some mushrooms, you were all excited about seeing Lothlorien, 
and I was hungry.” He remarked weakly, still moaning. 

This was the last thing I needed. My mind rested with my lover, I did not 
like the idea of him alone with Boromir.

 I caught the scene between them earlier during the battle. Legolas’ 
beautiful face marred with tension and even fear. I had not understood 
until I had noticed the man’s firm grip upon my elf, his knuckles white 
with tension. The tightness of the hold had to be causing the elf pain. He 
was tugging at the collar of the tunic, clearly restraining Legolas and 
preventing him from moving away. Previously I had watched as Boromir 
whispered something into an elven ear, displeasing it’s owner. I had 
perhaps been foolish in leaving Legolas under Boromir’s protection. The 
human was merely troubling the elf, and had not once yet raised his 
sword. This inaction was singling both himself and my lover out as easy 
targets. He was endangering my beloved, who blind as he may be, had 
been more danger to the orcs than the perfectly able sword wielding man 
to his left. I began to fight harder; chasing orcs as I had never done before, 
keen to dispatch them before they advanced any further up the slope 
towards Legolas. Once satisfied, I began walking slowly upwards. I 
furiously removed Boromir’s sweaty hand from my beloved, whose grip 
was tight enough to tear fabric, drawing a slight wince from the golden 
beauty. I adjusted the clearly uncomfortable remains of the collar while 
glancing over the creamy skin of Legolas’ neck. I growled as I spotted 
distinctive half moon shapes emblazed in red across his shoulder. It was 
lucky that the old arrow wound had already healed.

I took Legolas’ bow and threw a look at Boromir promising more later. I 
would not allow this to lie. 

The writhing form below me brought my attention back to the task in 
hand. Sam had been pleading for my help for some time. I called to Gimli 
to provide me with herbs from my pack. He did so without question. After 
feeding them somewhat forcibly to the protesting hobbit. I sat back and 
allowed them to take effect. Soon enough the normally pale halfling began 
to turn decidedly green.

“I don’t feel well.” He said with an undeniable gargle. I watched in 
amusement as he rushed to his feet, clamping his hand over his mouth. 
Frodo followed closely at his heels as they disappeared out of sight.

I turned my attention back to the camp, keen to prepare a hot meal in order 
to welcome back my beloved upon his return. Still concerned over his 
welfare I found myself gazing in the direction they had gone, praying for 
them to appear from among the emerald foliage. I resigned myself to the 
fact they would be some time yet.

With a heavy sigh, I turned my thoughts to the creation of a fire in the 
centre of our camp. I quickly ordered the dwarf and the hobbits that 
flanked him to forage for dry wood, remaining behind myself to survey 
our supplies. Despite this new sense of motivation I still found myself 
musing over the welfare and whereabouts of my prince of Elves. I was 
thrown from my train of thought, by Gimli’s triumphant and bountiful 
return. 

After the successful construction of the fire, it was then that I noticed the 
absence of Sam and Frodo. Why had not they returned? Concern flashed 
through my mind, though I was reluctant to send anyone to look for them, 
fearful of splitting the fellowship further. So we elected to remain, despite 
my dislike of the situation.

Legolas had once told me of his distrust of Boromir. I had disagreed, 
requiring their co-operation within our party. To be fair, I too had 
observed Boromir’s fascination with my golden haired Adonis. The 
gratuitous glances had first done little more than irritate me when we had 
first began to traverse the stormy plains of Middle Earth in the pursuit of 
good, before I knew of Legolas’ requited love. Rage was born from 
irritation, along with passionate, all-consuming and unashamed jealousy 
after that wonderful night in Lothlorien.

For the sake of the quest and fellowship I had suppressed these feelings 
and concerns and had attempted to trust the Son of Gondor, who too had 
pledged his life and allegiance at the meeting of the secret council. He 
deserved my respect and trust as a member of the fellowship. I led 
tentatively on my bedroll, as the sky grew darker. Legolas’ meal stood 
untouched, as did that of Boromir, Sam and Frodo. The last thing I heard 
was Gimli’s mumbling before sleep consumed me. 







Secrets

As I reached the lake it was not the figure behind me that ruled my 
thoughts, but the one I had left behind. Aragorn had pleaded to for me not 
to go, but I was resolved. I had to go for the safety of the fellowship. As 
soon as I had met his gaze and shaken my head to silence his objections, 
he quickly took me aside.

“Legolas, you’re not going with him, and that’s final.” I knew I was 
asking a lot of him to let me go, but his voice held an unwelcome 
arrogance. 

“You may be my lover, but you do not rule me. I shall go where I please.” 
Aragorn did not seem to recognise the importance of the act, not only 
would I find out more of Boromir and his intentions but also assert myself 
as more than a cripple. I was no child, and would not be treated as such. 
The tone of Aragorn’s voice changed as he began to plead. 

“Please, he tried to hurt you.”

“There is no proof of that.”

“His nails left marks!”

“He may be unaware of his own strength.” I inwardly winced at my 
words, I knew Boromir was aware of his actions, though I could not tell 
my lover why I was choosing to let Boromir accompany me. If I did, he 
would never let me go. However, Aragorn was losing his patience.

“Beloved, I don’t want you alone with him. What if he tries anything? 
With you like this --- ” He had realised his mistake and was too cowardly 
to even finish the sentence. For the first time in this discussion I raised my 
voice. I too, was impatient; Sam was clearly in need of Aragorn’s aid, the 
other hobbits crowding round him concerned. 

“You see me as some child, utterly defenceless. Was it not you yourself 
who told me not to succumb to this poison? You do not trust me, is that it? 
What in the world do think Boromir will try?” I feigned ignorance, but 
continued strongly. “I am over three thousand years old, true I may be 
blind, but that does not render me completely incompetent. Have you ever 
considered that Boromir may have been protecting me earlier? That he 
may have been preventing me from joining you in the depths of the battle. 
You too have grasped me too tightly in the throws of passion. You too 
have left marks. Tell me, Aragorn, Son of Arathorn, who are you to 
judge?” 

I knew from the hand that dropped from my shoulder that my work there 
was done. I turned away rapidly before he could see the tears in my eyes. I 
had knowingly lied to him, hurt him, something I had never done before. 
Could this be another effect of the madness that my blindness threatened 
to cause? Nay, I knew what I was doing; I was protecting the fellowship. 
My actions here may be the difference between success and failure in the 
quest to destroy the ring. I had to know Boromir’s intentions. I had to 
know if he was a danger to the rest of the group. I needed to know if the 
ring had corrupted him. To do that I needed to talk to him. Alone.

A hand startled me on my shoulder, sending my thoughts of earlier 
fluttering to the ground along with the falling leaves.

“The lake is this way.” A low voice rumbled at my left ear. It held a 
property to it that I could not identify. Boromir then led me carefully to 
the water. He halted swiftly.

“Will you bathe naked?” There was no way I would do so. 

“Nay, I will remain in my underclothes.” I could almost hear his 
disappointment.

“Well then let me help you undress.” Before I could react I was pushed 
hard, my back up against a tree.

“I am quite capable of doing so myself.” I began to protest as I felt hands 
tugging at the ties of my tunic. When it was thrown to the ground along 
with my undershirt I knew he was not adhering to my wishes. I had long 
since tried to raise my arms but Boromir pinned me against the tree using 
his own body.

I had still not fully accepted what Boromir was trying to do, was he was 
doing even. The whole sequence seemed to be happening in slow motion. 
Aragorn had told me he felt like this sometimes. A hand started pulling at 
my leggings my only choice was to shout out. My cry was cut off by a 
mouth on my own. This was not like kissing Aragorn. This was deep, 
evasive; he bit at my tongue. He pulled away to focus all of his attention 
on the leggings I was still wearing. 

“Please, Boromir, please stop.” To my complete surprise he did, bringing 
his face up level with my own. I feel the breath against my cheek. As he 
spoke, his voice broke and faltered. For the first time in many days I heard 
what I had been desperately looking for. Humanity.

“You do not want this?” It was both a question and a statement. The 
gravity of the situation finally seemed to hit him.

“God, Legolas, I am so sorry, I, I.” He was fighting desperately against the 
ring. “Did I hurt you?” I almost smiled; feeling a odd sense of pride in him 
for being able to overcome the lust the ring had planted in his mind. I told 
myself I would send a message to Lord Elrond and tell him that the 
strength of men had not failed as completely as he had first thought.

Boromir began to back away, his heavy feet crashing down on the delicate 
leaves. He was crying. The footsteps became more frequent and faded into 
the distance. I had been left alone. Instead of gathering and replacing my 
clothing I slid down onto the ground and cried, I had not so to this degree 
since my mother died.

It was at that point that I decided; Aragorn need not know. Boromir had 
proved himself to me. He would not face the judgement of the others. I 
realised then that I did not know how Aragorn would react. He may even 
blame himself for ‘letting’ me go. 

No, this was a secret, a secret to be kept.

It may have stayed that way if I had noticed the two pairs of eyes that had 
observed the whole event from a nearby bush.

If I had listened carefully enough, I may have even made out my very own 
words.

“How dare he! How dare he try to hurt Legolas like that! Come on, let’s 
go back and warn the others!”

Oh, I don’t know Mr Frodo, Sir. This is big, real big. I mean, we weren’t 
meant to see that, this was a secret. Besides if Boromir knew that we’d -- ”

“Listen here, Sam. Some secrets are meant to kept, for the good of those 
around. Though often they cannot remain so for long. ” 






Unwanted Guests

I was woken by the sound of an approaching group, I had obviously only 
slept for a few minutes, despite not intending to. I had wanted to wait for 
Legolas and the others to return, unsure of their safety and untrusting of 
Boromir. I was concerned; the sun was beginning to set, Legolas still had 
not returned, neither had the hobbits despite being gone for over an hour. 
My brow furrowed, I squinted into the distance in an attempt to see who 
may be walking up to the camp. The last of the day’s sunlight shined 
orange off glowing golden hair and I began to settle once more. 
Everything would be fine now. He was safe. Not only that but directly 
behind him were the tiny figures of Sam and Frodo. The three of them 
spoke animatedly, but I could not hear what had worked them into such a 
frenzy. 

I rose nervously. In my eyes I both deserved and owed an apology and did 
not know how to clear the air between my beloved and myself. I would 
welcome the hobbits with a smile, I decided, to hide the presence of any 
hard feelings. I walked over to him beaming and was just about to lock my 
arms around his waist when I got a good look at his face, having 
previously been blinded by the sun.

His eyes were red and blood shot, marks ran down his cheek where he had 
clearly been rubbing at his face. His head hung low as he attempted to 
hide this. A knife shot through my heart as I knew he had been crying, and 
quite vehemently from the look of his beautiful features. My thoughts 
turned immediately to what Boromir had done, beginning to speculate. But 
it was then I noticed that Boromir had not accompanied the group back. I 
swallowed my musings as I saw no injury upon my lover; something had 
clearly upset him. I pulled him close.

“What has wrung tears from your eyes?” I spoke carefully, soft and gentle.

“I am sorry for arguing with you. I know you were just concerned.” With 
that I shifted the elf into my arms, closing my eyes, fearful of ever letting 
go. 

“Think nothing of it” I murmured without hesitation. “I too am sorry for 
over reacting like I did.” I believed I had quietened him but was shocked 
as I felt a dampness on my shoulder. I released and cupped his face in my 
hands holding it directly ahead of my own. “Surely this meagre 
disagreement cannot trouble you like this. It was nothing and is now over, 
forgotten, finished. You proved yourself to me; you have returned 
unharmed, my fears were unfounded.” I did not miss his split second 
reaction to this, but I chose not to question. I noticed how close the newly 
returned hobbits hovered to us, keen for privacy I shooed them gently 
away, though it took more persuasion than usual. My love was now 
hurriedly drying his eyes. Not knowing what else to do I kissed him full 
on the mouth with the passion that we shared before this evil poison had 
claimed him. I was horrified was the elf began to desperately escape me 
and pull away. I of course stopped and let him go. He backed off swiftly; I 
saw how his lithe body trembled. He attempted a hurried explanation. 

“Nay, Aragorn ‘tis not you but me. I am weary and my head pains me.”

I nodded to show understanding that I did not. “Very well, eat first then 
rest. We will travel hard tomorrow. We may reach Lothlorien by 
nightfall.”

“Thank you.” He mumbled before asking me to guide him to his food.

He ate hungrily before heading towards his place of sleep for the night. To 
my surprise he found his way to the nearest tree before climbing it. I 
expressed my worry that he might fall, but he climbed ably despite now 
being able to see, holding his hands out in front of him. He had not chosen 
to sleep in the trees for many weeks, preferring to stay on the ground with 
me. He had once told me that he always felt safer sleeping in the trees, but 
he chose to sacrifice that for me, feeling just as secure in my arms. What 
had caused him to require the feeling of such safety? I was puzzled as I 
noticed both Sam and Frodo moving their bedding closer to Legolas, 
protectively choosing to sleep at the bottom of the tree the elf rested in. 
Had they noticed his discomfort? How sweet of them to watch over him 
like that. Though they would be of little use in a full-scale attack, they 
would certainly make life very difficult for any unwanted guest and would 
be sure to alert the rest of the camp. 

That was why I was so shocked to see them stand, swords at the ready as 
Boromir appeared from the trees.



Title: That Moment  
Author: Jadey – Jadey22@hotmail.com  
Pairing(s): Aragorn/Legolas  
Rating: NC - 17
Summary: Aragorn thinks of an important moment.  
Disclaimer: I own nothing.  
 


Pause For Thought

As I perched in the tree I looked down onto the camp. I shook my head in 
disgust, my actions moments below were sure to alert Aragorn to the fact 
that something was wrong. I had vowed to keep it secret, yet I was now 
dropping hints.

I was still in shock I told myself, I had braced myself while strolling down 
to the lake, but it had not been enough. I had prepared for perhaps an 
inappropriate comment or suggestion, even a stray hand but nothing could 
prepare me for what occurred. The attempt to take advantage of me like 
that showed that the evil ring had planted seeds of true malice within 
Boromir. The lust that coursed through him was enough for him to need 
and take my body unwilling. What I should have been focusing on was 
that Boromir; the proud Son of Gondor had overcome the ring’s power. 
All was not lost, it was a testament to Boromir and the long-doubted 
strength of men. I had often seen such strength in action. 

Tears began to run down my face again. I had cried but three times in my 
life, and twice within the last twenty minutes. This was of course the real 
reason I had taken refuge in the treetops. I welcomed it’s safety but also 
it’s privacy. Up here I could be alone with my thoughts and no-one could 
see me cry. The tears were neither for me, nor Aragorn but for Boromir. 
As much as I had been certain that his secret and his honour were safe, I 
now feared they may be not. Both of those things led in the hands of the 
small figures that had seemingly set up camp at my feet. Even now they 
argued loudly, loud enough for even my tiny remainder of hearing to pick 
up. Ah, that brought back thoughts of the poison that polluted my body. I 
would now also have to tell Aragorn that the food I had just eaten was 
utterly tasteless. No, we would reach Lothlorien within a day, all being 
well. I had worried him enough for this evening.

I would have to talk to my new bodyguards, Frodo and Sam soon. They 
are keen to ‘warn’ the rest of the fellowship, though I have put them off 
momentarily, promising to speak to my lover myself. I severely doubt 
their actions have failed to raise suspicion.

I may have been just falling asleep when I heard movement below. I may 
not have, if it weren’t the clumsy movement of hobbits directly below. In 
fact the camp in general seemed to be in motion. I heard swords clang 
hard against sheaths and was spurred into action. No orcs were in the area 
as far as I could tell, from the tone of Frodo’s whispering to Sam, I knew 
who approached. Recalling how I got up, I clambered down from the tree 
careful not to make it look too difficult. I landed and reached out my 
hands at waist height, finding a small shoulder on each side. I squeezed 
gently hoping to convey a silent, subtle message. The figures tensed but 
stilled, I heard no more of their weapons. I stepped forward slightly but 
kept my hands where they were, careful to ensure my body was facing the 
same way the hobbits were. I would no longer be able to hear the footsteps 
of the approaching figure from such a distance, but as soon as they came 
into range I stiffened just as the hobbits had. I was alarmed to hear a 
grunted greeting from Aragorn from my left, he had felt the need to cross 
the camp and sidle up close to me. Had I been that obvious? 

As soon as I heard a venomous whisper at my hip I made my move.

“Boromir . . .” That was too loud. “How was your stroll, did you succeed 
in clearing your head as you intended?” I almost patted myself on the back 
for my quick thinking. My words had easily silenced the hobbits and had 
explained the man’s strange absence. However, Boromir’s reply betrayed 
me. He was clearly surprised having expected me to run back to the others 
and tell all. I’d be willing to wager he had thought I would not approach 
him, let alone speak with him in such a manner. There was a long delay. 
Then his voice broke it, unsure and uncharacteristically quiet. 

“Yes, Legolas.” He managed to pronounce my name correctly only on the 
third attempt. “I am well.” He added, despite the fact I had not questioned 
his health. Then, he turned and retreated to where he would make his bed 
for the night. 

Even a blind man such as myself could see through his pretence.

Aragorn still stood at my side, he made no sound I could make out, but I 
knew he was there. After a moment he awkwardly left, murmuring 
something of a good night’s sleep. He did not know had to act around me 
now. I hoped my damage was not irreparable, for I was in no position to 
explain myself. I made to follow him when a hand clamped over my own. 
Biting back a sigh of defeat, I kneeled to talk with the hobbits.

“You still haven’t told him have you?” I was shocked to hear anger.

“There is no need to take that tone with me, ringbearer.” I did not even 
grace him with his name, noting how much I sounded like my father. He 
had the decency to sound apologetic.

“It’s just we care for you Legolas.” Sam then swiftly took over.

“We’re worried, ‘bout you, and what Aragorn will do, and what if it 
happens again? Oh its such a mess!”

I felt myself going with them and quickly had to cut short this threat of 
group hysteria.

“It will not happen again.” I desperately hoped that sounded sure enough. 
“I will deal with Aragorn.”

“Will you tell him?”

“That is my decision, and you will face my anger if you force my hand in 
it.” I said, hoping to make an impact. The long silence was enough.

“Ok.”

“Alright Legolas, but if he tries anything again I’ll -- ” Not only did I not 
want to hear the end of that sentence but also Sam’s voice was beginning 
to rise.

“Yes, yes Sam. Now hush, we will speak no more of this. We reach the 
golden woods tomorrow and I will need you rested.”

They thankfully took the somewhat heavy hint. Now, I had lain to rest this 
problem with the hobbits, perhaps I could do so with Aragorn. I would 
make an important gesture.

Remembering how I had first got to the tree from Aragorn I retraced my 
steps, lying down when I almost tripped over a sleepy figure. I tucked 
myself right up against him, careful not to touch him just in case. My 
silent question was answered when he rolled over covering me with his 
blanket and encircling his arms around my waist as he always did. I 
whispered an elvish apology into his ear, blaming my blindness for 
making me ‘jumpy,’ which it did, only not to the extent I implied. I almost 
jumped with joy as he began to nibble my ear.

But as it seems with this quest, happiness cannot last for long. An 
agonising pain shot through my body, I jerked and cried out.

Aragorn sat up and leant over my face, questioning, pleading.
 
I knew what was happening. It was finally beginning to kill me. After 
weeks of it lying in wait, picking at my senses, denying me sight, taste, 
hearing and even sensation in part, I now faced the crushing decline ahead. 
According to the message from Lothlorien it would now turn my own 
body against me. 

It had finally begun its attack on my nervous system; it’s attack on my life, 
and me.     






Hope

This was it. After all we’d been fighting for, we were so close and now the 
end was nigh. This was the evil of which Galadriel had spoke. After 
picking my lover apart piece-by-piece, making him so fragile, the elisur 
had finally began to kill him.

This was so unfair. We were not a day’s travel from the golden woods. So 
close to our destination, we had been able to see it for many days. 
Currently it’s light shone through the darkness of night, taunting, 
promising hope and safety, but now we were denied access to it. We were 
too late. We should not have lingered, the second breakfasts, the early 
camps, the short days walk to rest the little ones. Unbeknownst, we had 
been letting Legolas’ life slip away. Despite our determination, our unity 
and sense of purpose and urgency, the sands of time had beaten us. We 
had been lulled into a false sense of security by the lack of discernable 
change in the elf’s condition. I wished for one moment that the arrow had 
pierced my body. Its effect on me would be unknown, but still I would 
face certain death for the agonised figure writhing below me. 

I turned my attention back to him, praying for some divine intervention 
and knowing it would not come, I began searching franticly through my 
pack. The herbs I had now would be no use. But yet, I had to believe I was 
doing something to help, and I needed him to believe that too. His cries 
had woken the rest of the camp; all of whom had crowded round shocked, 
wisely keeping their distance. All with the exception of Boromir who 
remained where he was, head in his hands.

I had not the time or inclination to analyse this. The elf below needed my 
help, but what aid could I give? Legolas had always spoken wisely of the 
strength of men, but now I felt utterly useless. I had not the power to stop 
the poison; I doubted I could even numb the pain. Faces in the darkness 
looked to me for some solution, as their leader and Legolas’ lover. A 
solution I could not provide. The silence that had descended began to feel 
all the more heavy. It spoke of more than any elf or man could, even in 
their finest hour. Not making a sound it proclaimed grief, loss, despair, 
failure, anger, sorrow, fear and helplessness. These emotions had almost 
taken solid form in the air, and threatened to mock us as we fought to save 
one of our own. We all knew of the dangers we would face on this quest, 
but here our comrade would not die heroically saving Middle Earth from 
the wrath of Sauron, but rather was being cruelly stolen from us. This 
demise did not befit such a creature. But I had been misled for hope was 
not entirely dead. 

I fed my beloved a variety of green fauna, at least he might believe they 
could help, the placebo effect was not to be underestimated. He accepted 
gratefully, with a misplaced faith in my healing ability and knowledge of 
herbs. Movement within the camp caught my eye as Legolas stilled, no 
longer having the energy to fight the pain sleep claimed him. I was glad of 
the relief it would provide. Boromir was pacing wildly, collecting things, 
muttering and turning to the others. His words, whatever they were, 
spurred the rest of the team into action. I watched with amazement and 
pride as within ninety seconds every bag was packed (including my own 
and Legolas’) and all trace of the camp had been destroyed. The 
fellowship had stood as one; ready to move.

Boromir spoke first.

“We walk hard and fast, we do not stop under any circumstances. I will 
lead, Aragorn you follow behind; you will have to carry him.” He 
indicated the sleeping form. “Then you four hobbits, you stay together and 
do not wander from the path. Just follow Aragorn. Gimli, you bring up the 
rear and be on your guard. We will reach Lothlorien before dawn.” That 
was no statement or estimation, but a demand. 

The group fell into their respective ranks. Legolas murmured softly as I 
lifted him, we then headed off towards the light, the light of Lothlorien 
and the eternal one of hope.  

The race was truly on.






Brave Words

We were moving. That much I could tell. Oddly I could hear footsteps. 
They must have been close; it was long since that I could hear footsteps 
from any distance. Warmth wrapped around my chest and lower leg. It 
took me an embarrassingly long time to deduce I was being carried. I had 
become what I had always feared being, a burden.

I suspected that only Aragorn would carry me, the strong and protective 
leader and lover that he was. Breathing was above me, nay, panting. He 
was obviously very tired; I could not have been easy to carry over the 
rocky terrain. How I wished I were able just to reach up to him, aware of 
the comfort that would bring. But I was too weak, too exhausted, in fact I 
really should have been asleep. I had resigned myself to being carried 
knowing that I was too weak to walk, and nothing, not even my own 
persuasion would make Aragorn release me now. 

My eyes were still closed, these days it mattered little if I opened them or 
not. I thought maybe if I kept them closed my lover would think I had 
fallen victim to a restful sleep. That would ease his mind. However, I 
could not sleep now despite my exhaustion. The fire-like pain no longer 
shot through my body, but I currently wished that it did. All I felt now was 
a tingle in my right leg. It was as if the poison was taunting me, just 
waiting, waiting for the right moment to unleash its wrath. The lack of 
pain was such a contrast to bare minutes ago; I now did not know what 
was going on. Had the concoction finished it’s work? I could be dead 
within minutes, seconds even. I could not leave Aragorn; he evidently was 
still fighting for me. Still believed I could be saved. I would fight with 
him. I had once told Gimli as he had watched me tenaciously battle orcs, 
that to surrender was not in my nature. Now was my chance to prove my 
words. It was true I never surrendered to orcs or goblins, so why should I 
surrender to a blue fluid?

I stirred as if asleep, burying my head against Aragorn trying to comfort 
him a little by increasing the amount of contact we shared. His grip 
tightened and he sped up slightly.

Aragorn then suddenly adjusted his stride slowing slightly as if falling into 
step with someone beside him. Sure enough what faint scent I could pick 
up told me it was Boromir, the Son of Gondor. I made a point of moving 
in my beloved’s arms again.

“Perhaps he awakes.” Somewhat apprehensive words, the one above me 
spoke more confidently.

“I fear not.” He remarked wistfully and quite civilly for one who claimed 
to dislike the other so.

“I never meant to hurt him Aragorn.” He paused, searching for the words. 
“I fear the ring held some influence over me.”

I realised for the first time that confusingly I did not know how much 
Boromir thought Aragorn knew. Did he believe I had told Aragorn he had 
tried to rape me? What was he apologising for? It could be that he was 
simply referring to the incident during the battle with the orcs. I silently 
prayed that was what Aragorn would believe and would not question 
further.

“Legolas himself has appeared to have forgiven you, and I will do so too. 
You have also redeemed yourself this evening, though this gruelling pace 
is a little hard on the smaller ones.” Thank goodness.

“Thank you. You do not know how much that means to me. In regards to 
the pace, it is hard but necessary. The elisur begins to claim him.”

I imagined at this point that all eyes rested upon me. Aragorn cleared his 
throat and began to converse once more.

“Are you aware of where we are?” The question was polite and respectful 
of Boromir’s new leadership.

“Indeed.” Boromir replied with some satisfaction. “We mere hours from 
Lothlorien, three or so if we continue at this pace. 

Three hours? Last I remembered we were days from our destination. I felt 
a pang of guilt at how hard the fellowship was being pushed for my sake, 
though I have to admit my heart skipped a beat at being so close. The 
silence from my lover was enough to know he was just as happy with the 
reply.

I must at this point fallen asleep for the next thing I remember my carrier 
was having an animated conversation with the ringbearer. I had to stifle a 
chuckle as I thought I heard the hobbit offer to carry me instead. My ears 
were failing me, I reminded myself.

“Are you sure Aragorn? You’ve been carrying him for so long, you must 
be tired. I’m stronger than I look.” Oh my. I had not misheard. I took great 
comfort in the fact that my lover sounded very sure in his reply.

“No, I’m fine really Frodo. He’s as light as a feather, honest.” A fortunate 
reponse, had he not said that I would have elbowed him hard, in my sleep 
of course.

“Not long now Frodo.” Chaste words of comfort. “A couple of hours, no 
more.”

The words held great importance to me also. The legs in which I had felt 
the previous tingling had now become numb. 

I drifted in and out of consciousness for much of the remainder of the 
journey.

I only truly awoke when Aragorn halted, and breathed deeply. His 
shoulders relaxed and for one moment I thought he was going to drop me.

“Lothlorien.” The one astonished word that escaped the lips of Pippin. He 
was so close that he made my ever-watchful ranger jump.

A voice whispered into my ear. “We are there my love, we have reached 
the golden woods, and all will be fine now. You will be well.” Brave 
words.

It was then that he stumbled.       






The Light of The Lady

My heart resided in my mouth as a portion of the ground beneath us 
simply gave way. It was not as if we stood on a cliff, but directly in front 
was a sharp decline. The others around me acted quickly, Boromir reached 
for Legolas, snatching him from me while the hobbits and Gimli pulled 
and tugged in a desperate attempt to steady me and prevent me from 
falling to the rocky ground below.

Boromir obviously wished to get away quickly from this unstable land, 
and began edging down the slope side on, my lover draped across his 
front. I watched tensely as he got further and further down. He reached the 
bottom without incident, and now stood at the outskirts of the golden 
forest.

Legolas cried out in Boromir’s arms and I couldn’t help a tiny pang of 
jealousy, as he was pulled close in an attempt to soothe. I distracted 
myself from the fact my lover led in the arms of another by focusing on 
getting the rest of the fellowship down the slope ahead. I instructed loudly 
to do as Boromir had, watching the fear flash through the eyes of the 
smaller ones. I realised as the dwarf struggled down that the hobbits that 
remained above would not be able to get down with the ease of the first 
man.

Still I sidled up to them, begging them to make an attempt at least. The 
response was comprehensively negative. I sighed in defeat. I called down 
to Gimli asking what he remembered of Moria. He soon latched on to my 
thought. Despite his complaint there was no other way. He stood, feet 
planted firmly on the ground, bracing himself. I gathered up Merry. On a 
count of three I threw him hard down the slope.

I resisted the temptation to screw my eyes up as both participants ended up 
in an unceremonious heap at the base of the steep drop. I silently prayed 
that the same would not occur with the others.

Pippin followed next, movement at the edge of the forest caught my eyes. 
A figure had emerged form the trees, he appeared as Legolas did, and long 
blond hair flowed down his back, and caught slightly in his quiver. He 
turned to face me, although handsome he did not possess Legolas’ 
fairness. Boromir approached. They spoke for some time. As I pulled Sam 
up against my chest and stepped to the ledge in front I saw Boromir gently 
hand Legolas to the elf that I later found out was named Haldir.

I fought the urge to charge down the gradient unwilling hobbit in hand and 
furiously question Boromir over his actions. I had to remain calm as a 
leader, and a lover. I tossed Sam quickly and reached for the last all-
important hobbit and ran.

Taking the decline on confidently I hit the ground hard and it gave little. I 
tried hard to remain on my feet bending my knees. I released Frodo and 
jogged up to the elf holding my own. 

“I will care for him.” Said Haldir enigmatically, turning as if to head into 
the forest.

“We shall accompany you.” I replied, no room for argument.

“But, you bring a dwarf to the foot of the Lady. I --” 

“Galadriel is expecting us. All of us.” With that I defiantly squared up to 
the taller elf, took my beloved from him and stomped heavily into woods, 
motioning for the others to follow.

I allowed myself a satisfied smile as I disappeared from view. Gimli 
slotted in behind as if to prove his point and Boromir hovered nervously at 
my side I resisted the temptation to scowl at him. How dare he pass my 
prone lover around like some possession?

At the centre of the forest I reached the hedge that served as a perimeter to 
the residing place of Galadriel and Celeborn. I had been told in the 
parchment sent how to pass the seemingly impenetrable border, and did so 
accordingly much to the amazement of those around. The light of the Lady 
threatened to blind us as she emerged. Her liquid voice filled the air.

“The potential antidote has been prepared, let us hope we are not too late. 
Bring him, Son of Arathorn.”

I was led to a room of shimmering white and instructed to lay Legolas on 
a bed. Then asked to leave. I was reluctant, but knew this was the only 
way to save the love of my life.

I waited and waited for what seemed so long but what was in reality mere 
minutes. Many passing elves patted me lightly, nodding and murmuring 
knowledgeably. They were of little use or help.

The light of an elf behind cast me into shadow. I turned expecting more of 
the same attempts at comfort. However, I was wrong.

“Arwen.”






Just Outside

It is only when I look back I realise how little I remember of that last dash 
to the safety of the trees. Aragorn tells me somewhat over dramatically of 
near deaths sheer drops and untrustworthy elves. I always scowl at him as 
he recounts the tale and marvel at how it changes every time. He must 
enjoy the power over me, whatever he says I must believe. I have no 
power to say otherwise. I cannot now ask Boromir what occurred.

I so remember the near fall. My knowledge of what was going on around 
was hazy, as if I had just woken up from a deep sleep. I felt a sharp jolt, a 
down wards motion and hands grabbing at me. From the muffled sounds 
and cries I was able to make out the roughness and the marks left on my 
delicate skin were necessary. There was alarm in the air. Then sudden 
security. Hands once more grasped me. But these were rougher, larger 
than Aragorn’s. I suspected Boromir, though I did not pick up his scent, no 
other would be able or allowed to carry me. Despite the fact I had just 
been rescued from some hideous unseen fate, I still did not feel happy 
where I was and concern for Aragorn waded through my mind, which I 
now imagined to be like treacle. No senses to rely on, where emotions 
flashed through my mind before, now they lazily wandered, lost and alien. 
Could I be really losing the power of coherent thought? Nay, nothing is 
that powerful, nothing boasts that ability. I was jerked yet again by sudden 
movement. It was hasty, always not thought out. Boromir, moved 
tentatively, pulsing forward, I did understand until I was shifted against 
the Son of Gondor’s chest. He was trying to keep me horizontal. 
Preventing from lurching forwards, or more importantly downwards. 
Abruptly Boromir hit the bottom, bending his knees to take the impact of 
sudden ground beneath his feet, I would have crashed to the ground if he 
had not thought and moved fast. 

This was anxious, loud conversation above me, I was now unable to make 
it out. I was stopped from trying by Boromir surging forward, away from 
the others. This frightened me no end. Where was he taking me? Why 
away from the others? I quickly remembered how close we were to 
Lothlorien, in fact Boromir should entering the woods any second. No 
harm would come to me here. There was more conversing, only through 
the silence around could I make out the sound. To my horror, Boromir’s 
grip was loosening, what was he doing? I was moving forward away from 
his body. More hands were felt under my body. At least I could feel that 
sensation I told myself. My ability to feel the touch of another was one of 
the few things I had left. That too was fading fast, but I still possessed it. 
The new hands were soft and gentle, and I was pulled against I new 
smaller chest, the owner had to been elven. A man that size would not be 
able to support my weight. Someone whispered in my ear, I had to strain 
to hear even that. The speaker had to do so twice before he was sure I had 
heard. I could not react outwardly, but he spoke in elvish, soft and fluent. I 
was even able to place the voice; I willed my slow mind to think. Haldir. 
The elf I had spoken to during our first visit to the woods. I remember 
pleading with him to allow a dwarf to enter the woods and see the Lady. A 
glance to my left had shown my lover fighting the same battle with 
another, equally incredulous, stone faced dwarf. It was Haldir that had 
relented in the end.

If I were able to I would have complained about how I was being passed 
around like a rag doll when again more hands reached for me. By then I 
was losing what I had left of my unconsciousness, the darkness in which I 
lived was becoming that little thicker, just slightly less light if possible. 
My last thought is that it had better have been Aragorn who was lumbered 
with me, as the figure bent down and kissed my hair lightly. 

I woke up lying on a soft flat bed, my clothes changed I could not feel the 
constraint of my leggings tight around my waist. My head seemed less 
groggy, like somebody had opened a window, letting in the fresh air. I 
have not yet opened my eyes, due to my blindness; it was no longer my 
instinct to open them as I woke. If I were truly well, I would sleep with 
them open, I thought bitterly. I bit the bullet and opened them.

I still lived in darkness. But wait, tiny dots of light swam through my 
vision. They had certainly not been there before. I almost cried out with 
joy. I strained to see if I could hear anything. Anything at all, footsteps, 
voices, birdsong. Nothing. Patience is a virtue I reminded myself, still not 
knowing if my senses would return. My next thought was of Aragorn. 
How I longed for him to be here. If I had any idea where exactly I was, or 
indeed where he was, I would have considered getting up and finding him. 
I knew he would not leave me for long, especially if he believed me to me 
awake.

As it happened I was left for quite some time.

I questioned Aragorn about this later; he assured me he really did have his 
hands full, just outside the door. . . . . .





Hell Hath No Fury

I was utterly amazed; she was the very last thing I expected to see. Still as 
beautiful as ever, only now I compare her beauty to that of Legolas. A tad 
unfair as in my eyes Legolas’ beauty cannot be matched. My breath 
catches rather than allowing me to speak. More than a dozen questions 
dart around my tongue though I fear the answer of every one. It takes me a 
moment to realise that I fear her. Eventually she speaks.

“Long time no see.” I wince; time was always nothing to Arwen, until she 
gave me her immortality.

She knows of my relationship with Legolas, in fact most do. I would not 
keep him secret. Still, we have never really spoken of it, danced around 
the issue with great awkwardness. Yet here we would have nothing else to 
talk about.

“I hear of what ails Legolas, I am truly sorry.”

I nod. “The situation is grave, yet the battle has not been lost.”

“I pray for him.”

“Most kind.” I attempt to bite back my tongue, but still there is a hint of 
surprise in my voice. She, of course picks up on it.

“He is a good and kind elf, one I would surely count as a friend. If he has 
won your heart so, then truly he is deserving of my care.”

Her kindness, though pleasant to hear only makes this harder. A sword of 
pure guilt drives towards my heart. A long over due apology stumbles 
over my lips.

“I am so sorry Arwen for all the hurt I’ve caused. But I had to follow my 
heart, a loveless marriage would have killed us both.”

“Loveless? You thought our marriage would be loveless?” 

Oh dear, I spot my mistake but it is too late. The words have been said. I 
was concerned at how she raised her voice, something Arwen never did. I 
begin speaking in elvish to calm her. “That is not what I meant. I know of 
how you care for me, as I once did for you. But you deserve someone who 
will make you the centre of his universe for as long as you live. Something 
I could not now do.” 

Rage flickers through her eyes. Though she has known this for some time 
I have never put my feelings into words. Not like this. Words are like 
weapons. I know of how they can wound. Thoughts in themselves are 
harmless, glances and expressions can be washed away or forgotten over 
time. But words, words are concrete. They do not give and are long 
remembered. They can almost never be taken back. And I have just uttered 
them. The fury she has been carefully concealing through kind is suddenly 
unleashed.

“I know of how this must hurt, Arwen, but I thought -- ” I am denied my 
speech, her anger hits me like a torrent of water.

“How could you possibly know of how much this hurts, I gave up 
everything for you! You leave me not only for someone else, but a male. 
An elf that looks more feminine than most maidens! Is he good Aragorn? 
Better than me? Is that it? Does the innocent look do for you? You and 
him are -- ” Her words were spat viciously. I could no longer tell if this 
was pain and rage talking or whether my former betrothed was speaking 
her mind. 

This is what I had feared, and would not stand for. She was bringing my 
lover into this. The same elf that lay stricken in the next room. The last 
thing he needed was this. I placed my head in my hands, I had told Arwen 
everything before I even told Legolas of my feelings. He had done no 
wrong. Despite his role in events this dispute was between Arwen and me.

To my horror she had not stopped talking, her voice becoming louder and 
louder, her words all the more poisonous. Most of Lothloiren could hear 
by now. I hoped that Legolas had not yet regained his hearing. He was 
mere metres away. I doubted he slept any longer.

I had no idea what to do. Her emotions were justified her comments were 
not. I silently and slowly turned my back with a heavy sigh I walked 
tentatively away as if stood on a cliff. Arwen cries died down to mere 
whimpers, a pathetic sound that did not befit her appearance. Then it 
stopped. Perhaps she knew. Could she have caught the look in my eyes? 
She knew that from that point on, I would never speak to her again.

A soft elvish goodbye was all I had to remember her by. I shook the image 
of her ashen face from my mind, distorting it, the image changed to my 
elven beloved. The centre of my universe for as long as I live.

Despite my sour mood, when I opened the door to Legolas’ chamber the 
sight I saw couldn’t help but bring a smile to my face.





The Centre of The Universe

Aragorn entered the room, alerting me to his presence, I noted his call did 
not sound as far away as it had. Perhaps my senses were returning. I told 
him of the light patches. He kissed me passionately on the lips smothering 
my mouth with his own. His kisses were soft and gentle at first but then 
became fiercer, his need crying out. He had rid himself of his tunic 
without my prior knowledge. He was reaching for the ties of my loose 
cloak. I ran my hands down his bare rugged chest, he leant forward 
pinning me against the bed. I heard the faint sound of garments hitting the 
floor, proud that I could identify the sound. He was now naked, within 
seconds I was also. He guided me, but his wild neediness was taking 
control. I felt him shifting upon me, his glorious offering pushing urgently 
against my lips. I took his fullness in my mouth and sucked my King of 
Men. The flesh tasted heady, delicious, a taste only he possessed. I would 
recognise it anywhere, glad my senses were returning. He grew harder in 
my mouth, gasping and groaning. The Son of Arathorn pulled away 
leaving me feeling strangely empty. I felt his warm lips on my neck, 
tracing a path down my body, pausing slightly at the nipples. I bit my lip 
but was unable to stop myself from crying out his name. This only 
encouraged him further and I felt a rush of passion surge through my loins. 
He was teasing me, though blind I was never submissive. I wrapped my 
thighs firmly around him using my bodyweight to flip him over, reversing 
our positions. 

Now on top, I felt an odd rush of power. I began lapping at his chest, 
wandering my slowly downwards coming back to his raw manhood. His 
bucked his hips encouraging me to administer to his now softening penis. I 
licked at the tip, and then withdrew after a kiss leaving my love writhing 
with passion. I could vaguely hear my name drowned by a torrent of elvish 
pleas. An evil grin appeared across my face. Now I was where I had 
always loved to be, in control. Instead of continuing, this liaison I lay 
backwards on the bed and persuaded him to advance. He responded in 
kind, laying himself over me, I felt him cupping my testicles. I knew he 
was teasing me in order to heighten my pleasure. I squealed in delight but 
as I did he pulled away and dropped a light kiss on my forehead. There 
was a fumbling at my side; I heard the distinctive creak of the draw in the 
bedside cabinet. I was able to discern a rustle from the din, though what 
caused it I did not know. Strange moisture was poured upon my chest. The 
divine sensation of my lover’s tongue then licked me clean. I had never 
been so aroused my need now bordering on pain. I had to be fulfilled.

“Please Meleth.” I begged; the elvish word for love passed my lips, as it 
rarely did. “I need you. I want you.”

Aragorn responded by gently pulling me towards him. I felt a hand tracing 
my inner thigh. The sensation was unbelievable. A finger gently asked for 
admittance. I yielded nodding slightly. This was all he required. I was 
stretched open laid bare. I warned him of my imminent release, and urged 
him on. Another joined the finger; the owner was swiftly satisfied of my 
readiness. He adjusted his stance; I felt his bluntness against the entrance 
to my body. Again, I motioned my consent.

The sensation was incredible as his mortal sword pierced the centre of my 
being. Our cries of pleasure rang out, disturbing the silence of the Golden 
Forest. We climaxed together, as we nearly always did, mindful of others 
around.

It had been so long since we had found release in each other’s arms, 
physically expressing our love. It rang like music in my ears, a beautiful 
melody my beloved himself had composed. As I lay inert in his arms, he 
whispered sweet words into my ears telling me of his undying love. He 
murmured of how I was the centre of his universe. Strange, he had never 
before felt the need to reassure me so. I did not question it, enjoying the 
sensation of lying in his arms. My only regret is that I had been unable to 
see his face. In time, I told myself I would. Hopefully. Galadriel had said 
that the effects of the elisur might be permanent, I prayed to Valar it 
would not be.

Silver tears began to cascade down my flushed cheek, the thought of never 
seeing him again was all consuming. I thought I might die of grief if 
unable to look into his beautiful steel eyes once more. Lips descended 
upon my face to tenderly to kiss them away. My heart bled. Maybe 
everything would be ok, it was now my turn to utter the brave words. 
Aragorn pulled me close, aware of my grief, keen to rid me of it.

It was then I was sure; I was the centre of his universe. With that I drifted 
into a contented sleep.






An Unexpected Turn

I woke at a most uncharacteristic hour, immediately alarmed at my 
inability to move. My frown melted into a loving smile as I saw a slender, 
smooth arm coiled around my waist and a mass of gold flayed over my 
chest. I was content where I was, but couldn’t move if I wanted to. I 
pressed my face against him and breathed deeply. I loved how he always 
smelt of flowers. I placed my own arm around my companion and pulled 
him against me tightly. I would have gone back to sleep if there had not 
been a somewhat likable movement against my front as the elf woke. His 
hair brushed against me, even that was erotic, the soft moans eliciting 
from his lips were enough to drive me wild.

Legolas raised his head and opened his eyes, immediately turning away, 
hissing with pain. I sat up instantly, taking him with me, but my concern 
was misplaced.

“Beloved, what is wrong?” Though still covering his face, he was 
laughing.

“No, Aragorn, it is the light. It’s too bright.”

I did not realise the significance of this for some time, my worry 
continued.

“But the lighting in here is --” I could almost have hit my head against the 
bedpost. And I am supposed to be the heir to Gondor. The light was too 
bright. He could see the light. He could see it. Perhaps he would recover. 
Maybe he already had.

I began laughing heartily, suppressed tears of joy and relief poured 
uncontrollably down my face. I’m sure a tiny part of me cried for Arwen 
too. I reached out for the stunned creature before me, crushing him against 
my chest, almost afraid to let go.

“That’s wonderful!” I cannot tell you how many times I repeated that tiny 
phrase while rocking the figure in my arms gently. At last his eyes 
adjusted to the brightness. He blinked a few times and then looked up. To 
my delight, a smile appeared across his face as if by magic. He looked 
hastily around the room, though he had probably seen it before on our last 
visit, he drank in the sight of it hungrily, cataloguing every detail. Then, as 
if struck by some wonderful idea, he turned and looked directly at me, his 
hands came up to hold my cheeks.

“I once again have perfect vision, and am glad to see you are still as 
beautiful as ever.” He leant in and kissed me tenderly, lips brushing 
together. Eventually passion overruled us and I found myself pressed 
against the headboard. A most delightful position. Then suddenly he 
pulled away, running from the bed to the other side of room. My mind 
immediately backtracked desperately searching for what I could have done 
wrong. But yet a dazzling smile still graced me. 

“Say something!” He said desperately.

“Like what?” I asked; my brow furrowed in confusion.

“Anything! Just whisper.” I was trying the normally patient elf.

It is odd, when you are given such a vast choice, endless possibilities, you 
simply cannot decide.

Then it came to me, I began to murmur an old elvish folk song. Legolas 
had once used it to sing me to sleep when my worries threatened to 
consume me. I sang so softly that no one would be able to make it out 
from where my lover stood.

That is why my heart caught in my throat when Legolas completed the 
verse, his melodious voice filling the room and confirming our suspicions. 
I sent silent thanks to Galadriel before running over to scoop the golden 
beauty into my arms. He was cured, still a little weak, but cured.    

I could not contain myself. The pieces of my world were finally placed 
back together; I was whole once more. The daunting quest ahead seemed 
so much easier with an able Legolas at my side, the fellowship now 
restored. I knew I could never live without him, or cope if he did not want 
to live. Both distinct possibilities, but Legolas’ inner strength had aided 
that of Galadriel’s potions and magic. I was now certain all would be well.

I could not stop kissing at his hair beneath me, this went on for so long he 
began to giggle and squirm. But I would not give in that easily. I tickled 
him desperately focusing on his hips where I knew was venerable. Not 
letting go, I span us around and threw my weight towards the bed. We 
landed hard upon it, him beneath. I pinned him down as I had the night 
before, only this time I used my own arms to trap his own above his head. 
I expertly used my own body to stop him from moving; he was pushed 
hard against the bed, totally immobile. I bent down to kiss him as 
something unrecognisable flashed through his eyes.

“Aragorn let me go, please.” There was nothing but sincerity in his voice. 
He repeated himself and I let him go without question. He would not tell 
me what was wrong, merely sitting up and apologising profusely, speaking 
of being ‘jumpy.’

I could not doubt him, the reason was valid so I did all I could and held 
him tightly, again rocking automatically. 

We both started at a knock of the door, the perpetrator opening the door 
without delay. I buried myself under the blankets, Legolas standing and 
wrapping a discarded sheet around him.

I can’t say I pleased at the figure that stood in the doorway, but I was 
surprised. 

From here things took a slightly unexpected turn.



Title: That Moment  
Author: Jadey – Jadey22@hotmail.com  
Pairing(s): Aragorn/Legolas  
Rating: R
Summary: Aragorn thinks of an important moment.  
Disclaimer: I own nothing.  
 


A Wonderful Idea

I clutched at the sheet around me, desperate to conceal myself. My mind 
whirling at what had just happened. Aragorn and myself had always had 
such a free and playful relationship, yet the position I had just been held in 
was too close for comfort. I was completely unable to move, Aragorn 
using his own weight against me in order to keep me where I was. 
Boromir had done just the same. At the time of the incident I had been 
completely blind and yet images of it race through my mind, I can see it 
perfectly. The mosses of my clothing and the darkness of Boromir’s, his 
dirty, calloused hands running over my bare chest, fumbling at the 
remainder of my clothing.

I shuddered grasping tightly at the fabric, it begins to slip and I gather it 
quickly. Perhaps the intruder will leave soon, but then Aragorn will have 
the chance to challenge my strange response. I could tell my weak lie had 
not convinced him, but he had little to question me with. I looked over to 
him, his eyes burning holes in the figure that stands before him. The other 
holds his ground after a quick glance over to me, staring back. They 
seemed locked for a moment, unhappy, surprised to see each other, 
watching intensely for some sudden moment. Such action does not come 
and they remain still for some time, I can’t help but think I am involved 
somewhere in this utterly unspoken dispute. I feel the need to break this 
silence; the weight of it descends upon the room like a shroud. But what 
could I say? In this situation, I wise Prince of Mirkwood know nothing, I 
am unashamedly out of my depth. I take advantage and reach for my robe; 
I slid it on with ease of practiced grace, my movement distracting the other 
occupants of the room. Aragorn casts a searching gaze at me before 
turning back to the elf that had just entered to find that elven eyes also 
rested upon me, somewhat hungrily.

My normally restrained lover raised his voice in order to break the reverie 
of the intruder.

“Haldir, what brings you to our private rooms?” I almost winced at the 
careful insertion of the word private.

“I apologise, Estel.” It was clear that he was not sincere; his words mere 
mockery of their true meaning, and was swiftly told not to address the Son 
of Arathorn by that name. He had the decency not to again.

“Lady Galadriel requires an audience with you both.” With his mission 
complete, Haldir left, but not before looking across at me once more. I 
swear I heard Aragorn emit a low growl. 

I made a point of replacing the strewn sheet back on the bed and placing 
Aragorn’s clothes upon it. He took the hint and promptly dressed, his eyes 
remaining on the closed door the whole time. I told my beloved I was 
going to bathe, grabbing a towel I headed for the door, Aragorn speaking 
just as I was walking through it.

“He wants you.” The possible truth that led in the hated words stopped me 
dead, but my pause was only slight and I was careful not to slam the door.

*************************

I knew how jealous and possessive Aragorn could be, in fact the thought 
that you belong to someone solely, them not letting others near you is 
quite arousing. I smiled in spite of myself. The glances that Haldir had 
bestowed upon me had certainly held more that innocent curiosity, but I 
was unable to tell what exactly. Surely not everyone could want me like 
that. I couldn’t help myself fearing that Haldir would go the way of 
Boromir, but that would happen. The ring held no power over him. I took 
refuge in the fact he too was an elf, a gentle race of great beauty, without 
doubt incapable of such cruelty.  

I bathed quickly and quietly thankful for the peace and the opportunity to 
cleanse my body of the last few week’s events. I aimed to return swiftly, 
not wanting to leave Aragorn for long in this kind of mood, he would do 
little more than brood and overanalyse. Also, we needed to get to the 
Lady. 

I was almost there when I heard a noise behind, still walking; I turned my 
head, a leaf scraped across the cream floor of the corridor behind. I really 
was getting jumpy. I began to shake my head before I was forced to the 
ground by something ahead. I had collided with an uncompromising wall 
of elf, which now also led sprawled across the ground.

 Haldir rose quickly, brushing at himself, and then recognising me, 
extended a hand. I cautiously accepted, only to be pulled up close to him, 
his face inches from my own. I was unsure if an arm began to wrap around 
my waist before I pulled away. Making excuses I half ran back to 
Aragorn, shutting the door heavily behind me. I shrugged off a concerned 
glance grabbing the man’s hand; I near dragged him to Galadriel.

Needless to say she was pleased to see us, me especially. I had been the 
cause of much anxiety. Aragorn still clutched at my hand, the grip 
suddenly tightening painfully.

“Aragorn, Legolas, I am sure you have met Haldir.”

 Her face dropped, her voice falling away. She had evidently sensed 
Aragorn’s hatred and my apprehension. Haldir in turn greeted us with a 
smile that did not reach his eyes.

Mercifully the Lady quickly sent Haldir away and turned to both of us. 
Her ability to read our minds negated our need to speak. She would now 
know everything. I was glad of her rare power; one misplaced enquiry 
could have revealed my secret to the one who held me so tightly.

Aragorn frowned as the Lady asked to speak to me alone about my 
condition but left without protest kissing my hand.

She waited for a moment before speaking outright.

“You do not wish to tell him?” A question and a statement.

“It is not necessary.”

“Legolas, Boromir tried to --”

“But he did not, showing great strength in overcoming the power of the 
ring. To tell Aragorn would concern him to no end.” Silver tears rolled 
down my cheek. I had not spoken out loud of this.

“If that is your decision.”

“It is.”

“Very well Prince, you show great inner strength, but what of your body?”

“My senses have returned, I am well, I owe you my thanks.”

“You owe me nothing little one. Merely a promise that you will look after 
yourself, and your lover.”

“I promise you that.”

“Then I am satisfied. Your fellows are weary; you will stay in Lothloiren 
for a few more days. Only continue onwards once you are ready. In fact, 
an idea has just struck me.”

I waited patiently.

“Tonight there will be a great feast to celebrate your good health. Such 
merriment can only please and aid my people. What say you?”

“A wonderful idea.” A smile graced my lips.

“It is settled then, if you will excuse I must make the arrangements.”

Despite her reverence the Lady bowed to me before disappearing. I 
skipped off to tell Aragorn of the good news.






The Announcement

Legolas came to me, his face showing more ease than I seen of late. It 
pleased me, yet I was unable to comment as he was obviously keen to 
convey a message. 

“Galadriel has had a wonderful idea.” I waited patiently. Through his 
excitement I had to prompt him to continue.

“There will be great feast tonight in order to celebrate my return to good 
health.”

My face lit up, truly a great idea.  Such an occasion could only be good for 
us. Legolas needed to let his hair down and relax. I had not seen him smile 
freely in so long. Recently he had merely stretched his lips across his teeth 
in order to appease me and prevent any line of questioning over his 
condition. Maybe tonight would bring with it some good cheer. Legolas 
observed me.

“What? Why are you smiling?”

“I merely am pleased.”

Legolas gave me a scathing look, blatantly unconvinced. 

“Really I am, we should get ourselves ready.” I tried to calm him.

“We have hours yet.”

I saw where this potentially lewd conversation was going and aided it. 
“What shall we do then?”

A raised eyebrow was my answer. “I have one idea.”

*************************

I could not believe it; we were going to be late. Our many hours had 
dissolved into minutes. I watched in amazement as Legolas pulled a 
beautiful silver tunic violently over his head, tying it with a decided lack 
of care. His midnight blue leggings had already been slid on, his hair 
falling softly over his face, missing its traditional braids.
He looked divine, even edible. I wanted him right there and then, my 
desire burning anew. A lot of self-restraint was in order if we were to get 
to the feast at all. My elf of course did not help matters. 

As soon as we were both ready I headed for the doorway. Legolas pushed 
his way beside me, holding my face against his, kissing me passionately, 
teasing me. He pulled away his face breaking into a childish grin before he 
sprinted out of the door and down the hall. I laughed and gave chase, 
pointless really, he was out of my sight in seconds. It is near impossible 
for a man to catch an elf, harder still if they have a head start. However, 
this elven beauty wanted to be caught and we entered the clearing hand in 
hand. A welcome sight for all who beheld us, or that’s what I believed.

Legolas was reunited with the rest of the fellowship, I watched as he 
rushed to greet them. I was still unhappy with Boromir pulling my lover 
into a tight embrace, but I tried to hide my discomfort; something Legolas 
did not. He stiffened only placing his hands upon the man when prompted, 
then the contact was only light. The elf carefully avoided eye contact and 
moved away to speak to the hobbits as soon as he could, fear etched across 
his face. I stepped forward to question him and see if he was well, when 
there was a movement to my left. Galadriel sauntered into view. 

After a pleasant if not stifled conversation I was introduced to many elves 
I knew or cared little about, the one I focused upon stood on the other side 
of the large, central table. Admirers apparently surrounded him. I had 
learnt not to let that trouble me; I was surely not the only one to fall victim 
to Legolas’ beauty. He looked as he always did, politely interested in 
everything and everyone but still moved too quickly from elf to elf to be 
genuinely concerned. The people he spoke with for some time where 
members of the fellowship, I saw Merry’s wild hand gestures describing 
my near fall, and Pippin’s real take on how many orcs had actually 
attacked us during our last battle. Considerately Legolas mocked surprise 
when told how many the pair had really taken on and slaughtered with the 
greatest of ease.

Not to be caught out I quickly returned my focus to the conversation I was 
party to, Galadriel describing the events of the last few weeks to some 
enthralled elven companions, I nodded and murmured when appropriate.

I was understandably relived when horns sounded the commencement of 
dinner. I swiftly took a seat next to the Prince of Mirkwood; we were then 
rapidly flanked by hobbits. Galadriel sat directly opposite provided 
welcome respite. In a flash of white the table was filled with all foods 
imaginable, each platter looking as delicious as the last. A gasp sounded 
the length of the huge table. Hunger took over and we all began to devour 
ravenously, I was pleased to see Legolas eat a admirable amount.

The free flowing wine improved conversation no end but also made me 
forget to Boromir. I myself was keeping pace with the one beside me on 
my third glass. After a number of questionable speeches there began the 
highlight of my evening. The dancing. 

Needing a immediate infection of courage I polished off a fourth glass of 
ruby wine before grabbing Legolas and pulling him into my arms. 

The table was cleared away with admirable speed. Legolas and I danced 
for seemingly hours, his graceful feet skipping over the dried leaves 
without making a sound. He seemed freer than he had for a long time, 
throwing his head in laughter as I spoke candidly of the dancing ability of 
hobbits. A delightful sight, I found myself wishing the night would go on 
forever. I couldn’t hide my disappointment as it was announced that the 
evening would end with another speech, I was surprised to find the 
speaker was Galadriel herself.

She spoke of this magical night and the guests of honour, before 
amazingly listing the fellowship. I blushed amongst the applause as did 
my fellows. She went on to describe our bravery and our formidable 
mission. Mentioning Legolas’ ailment, finally bringing all present up to 
date. Her final words would be imprinted in my mind forever.

“That is when they arrived in Lothlorien where I was able, even honoured 
to aid Legolas and restore him to health. This feast is a celebration of his 
recovery. Sadly the group of eight will leave us to go on in a day or two. . . 
”

She was interrupted by a series of sighs and groans.

“. . . That is of course after Aragorn and Legolas have wed.”





A Good Cause to Cry

I had to restrain myself from grinning from ear to ear; the Lady of the 
Woods had done me proud. I turned towards Aragorn and quickly slipped 
on a similar mask of shock and confusion when he turned to face me. 

We were suddenly surrounded, the sound of cheers was deafening, I could 
barely register I was being spoken to. Well-wishers shocked, but swift to 
gather themselves clawed at my hands in an attempt to shake them and 
others even pulled at my tunic. I looked over with a secret smile to 
Aragorn who was coping less well than I with his new hoard of screaming 
fans. He was almost lost amongst them and I had to strain to keep my eye 
on him. I was being ruthlessly jostled, a hand tapping my shoulder I 
peered behind just to be swallowed and almost knocked down by a 
unforgiving wall of dwarf as Gimli crushed me with a bear hug. He was 
close to lifting me from the ground when I finally persuaded him 
breathlessly to let me go. I was brushing myself off; revelling in the 
excitement around when from behind the Son of Gloin came the hobbits, 
fresh from congratulating a rather bewildered Aragorn. They used their 
combined force to subdue me, providing their thoughts on Galadriel’s 
shocking revelation. The only member of the fellowship not to approach 
was Boromir, I caught a slight glimpse of him using a nearby tree to 
support himself conspicuous in the way he avoided the impromptu 
celebration. I pulled my eyes away from him bitterly. 

Unfortunately I had been led away from the main crowd of elves, the 
hobbits and Gimli obviously keen to talk to me. Exactly what I didn’t 
want. I was rapidly faced with a barrage of quick fire questions.

“When did you decide to get married?”

“Can two men get married?”

“Do you have the rings?”

“Who proposed, was it romantic?”

It was then they finally noticed my carefully schooled features, which I 
hoped for the love of Valar conveyed confusion. Frodo pushed his way to 
the front of the firing squad I faced.

“Did you know anything about this Legolas?” His eyes were wide, almost 
fearing my answer.

I subtly looked over to my lover, watching how he battled similar 
questioning. I adopted his approach, carefully avoiding actually answering 
any questions. I made noises, murmured, feigned a lack of any decision or 
conviction. I was aided by many interruptions from fellow elves. Another 
wayward glimpse of my lover and his face told me he wanted to know 
what was going on and now. The time was now. If I did not move quickly 
I would regret this for the rest of my life. I excused myself and slid away, 
hoping I would become lost in the crowd. I made my way to the podium 
on which the Lady had just stood; I slipped behind it and jumped upwards 
into the canopy where she led waiting. I looked down once more to check 
on my beloved and guilt washed over me as I found him searching 
desperately for me. 

“A fit of conscience, little Greenleaf?” Her eyes remained closed, she 
appeared as if she were in a trance of some kind.

“This causes him much distress.”

“Was this not your idea?”

“Nay, it was a solution you suggested.”

Her eyebrow rose. “Indeed it was, but only at your agreement.”

“True, but I am unsure that it has even worked --”

“Patience is a virtue little one. Aragorn guards his heart and mind closely. 
We shall never know if we have succeeded if we remain here. Follow 
me.”

I did so with speed and without question, though concerned at how far we 
wandered. My distress diminished as I felt familiar stone steps beneath 
me. We stood at Galadriel’s mirror.

“The mirror not only has the power to show what has been and what will 
be, but it also watches over Lothloiren much like the Great Eye watches 
over Middle Earth.”
 I remained silent as she filled a silver jug with water.

“Let us hark back to where Aragorn lies Legolas.” She began pouring the 
water into the stone basin. “He currently converses with the fellowship.”

*************************

“You had no idea???”

“No, Legolas and I have never spoken of marriage. He seemed as shocked 
as I was.”

“What could Galadriel mean?”

“I do not know.”

“Now all these people think you are getting married. Are you sure 
Galadriel didn’t just get the wrong idea?”

“How could she Gimli?”

“What are you going to do?”

“If I knew that, this conversation would be marginally easier.”

“Alright, we’re only trying to help. Are you going to marry him?”

“I’m not sure, this is all such a big surprise.”

“Do you want to marry him?”

A long, pregnant pause.

“Yes, more than anything, I love him with all my heart. But his face. . . .I . 
. .”

*************************

Having heard enough, and not wanting to invade his privacy anymore, I 
reached in and disturbed the water, his face disappearing amidst a swirl of 
ripples. 

“You were wrong, Legolas. He returns your feelings just as vehemently. It 
too is his will for you to marry.”

I held my breath, still disbelieving, knowing what she would ask of me 
next.

“Come, it is time.”

*************************

I took my place on the podium just as Galadriel had. Only this time hush 
came a lot sooner. All waited with baited breath, Aragorn most of all. 

“I first would like to apologise for the chaos and confusion that has been 
caused. I know that Galadriel’s announcement came as a shock to many. 
But I assure you it is all in a good cause. Now I have your attention and all 
that I need I would like to set things straight and do this properly.”

I cleared my throat, a whisper of a smile appearing on Galadriel’s lips.

“Aragorn, Son of Arathorn, heir to the throne of Gondor, would you marry 
me?”

The silence that had occurred became all the more silent. Every face 
turned towards the man in black.

Who, with damp eyes and a wondrous smile merely nodded.

Then, for the first time in my life, I had a good cause to cry.




Magical Night

The smile that spread across his face when I nodded my consent was the 
greatest I had seen in some time. It reached his dark eyes and they 
sparkled in sheer delight. Showing elven prowess I should have been used 
to by now he leapt from the raised platform and was virtually upon me in 
seconds I drew him into me his head buried at my shoulder, my tunic 
growing damp with tears of joy. He raised his head and smiled, I nibbled 
at his lip and he opened his mouth to allow me entrance. Ashamed by our 
audience we kissed for what seemed like an eternity. I giggled into his 
mouth at the huge cheer that rose when our lips met, you would have 
thought we had just got married. Suddenly another nervous, excited hush 
descended and we reluctantly parted to see what had occurred. 

Galadriel had once more taken the podium, intent on speaking. 

“The surprises I’m afraid do end there my friends. Legolas and myself 
carefully orchestrated the last, but I too am capable of my own collusion. 
In order for the quest to destroy the ring to continue without unnecessary 
delay, the ceremony must take place as soon as tomorrow, such an event 
cannot occur without esteemed guests.”

At that point the Lady turned and gazed intently into the foliage behind. 
From the green emerged two distinct large figures, both walked with 
dignity and great authority. Some elves around where obviously ahead in 
their thinking and gasped at the new arrivals. Then there was a flash of 
golden hair, the exact shade of the elf I held in my arms. The other figure 
was darker, marginally taller. Legolas and I edged slowly forward in order 
to work out who approached. Some elves further forward than us had 
began to bow and nod their heads, even Galadriel had stepped back 
respectfully to a more submissive position. Then their faces became clear.

Elrond and Thranduil stood impassive looking down on the proceedings 
with a silent, unquestioned authority. I immediately looked to Elrond, now 
realising it was stupid to think he would not attend. He was like a father to 
me, but he was a father to Arwen, the woman I had cast aside so I could 
marry the elf at my side. To my relief, Elrond’s stern face melted into a 
wondrous smile matching that of Thranduil’s.

Legolas and I rushed forward to embrace our respective parents, Thranduil 
letting out a deep laugh at Legolas’ shock. After a moment I pulled back 
still amazed but my questions were silenced both by Elrond and also a 
continuation of Galadriel’s speech.

“This glorious and eventful evening has now come to an end. Preparation 
must begin for tomorrow and much work is to be done. Let us retire. I bid 
you all a good night.”

With that we retreated to the treetops, keen for rest. I too was keen for a 
little something else. Legolas smiled wildly as if reading my mind. I don’t 
think I have ever climbed so fast in my life. 

*************************

As I woke the next morning Anor generously cast it’s golden light down 
onto the woods of the same name. Birdsong resonated through my ears 
and the day seemed pleasantly warm. A lovely way to wake. I sleepily 
rolled over reaching out with my hand, which fell to wood with a solid 
‘thunk’. I smiled to myself. Normally I would be worried, but with the 
excitement of the forthcoming day, I had doubted Legolas’ ability to 
remain asleep for very long. He was always so alive and keen to be in the 
thick of the action, never interfering but always involved. I quickly 
dressed and made my way down to the ground, landing with a satisfying 
crunch. Straightening out my shirt I headed to the main clearing with had 
been the venue of last night’s party. When I arrived it seemed I was the 
last to wake. It was a hive of activity. Elves pacing about flustered from 
left to right, though little had been changed and they appeared to be doing 
very little. Many were adopting wild hand gestures and indicating high 
into surrounding trees. I grinned, elves had always been big thinkers, but it 
appeared that very little was underway here. Would everything be ready? I 
swallowed my brief moment of concern, having every faith in the elves. I 
wanted everything to be perfect.

Then I spotted him, oddly in animated conversation with Elrond, who was 
nodding and indicating with large gestures like many other of the elves. 
Thranduil stood at his side, arms crossed tightly at his chest, apparently 
overseeing the seemingly invisible operation with a certain air of majesty. 
I stepped over to say good morning to my beloved.    

He somewhat excitedly told me that the ceremony would take place at six, 
seven hours from now.

Despite this large amount of time, it wasn’t long before we were dragged 
away separately to get ready for this magical night.







Under The Setting Sun

If this wedding were conventional, I would no doubt be the bride. The 
sight of me under duress fussing with my hair (under the supervision of 
many elves all attempting to look busy without actually doing anything) 
would have made my regal father pale. It is true my mutterings would 
have sounded exceptionally feminine to anyone who stood outside. It was 
all the more irritating then when after over 45 minutes of careful 
deliberation it was decided by the powers that be, my golden hair would 
be left down, untouched. My patience was swiftly running out, this was 
my day, not that of those who minced around me.

Aragorn may have found out of this day’s proceedings yesterday, but it is 
something I have considered for many months. The vision of us kissing in 
the sunset was one I had seen every time I entered the dream world for 
quite some time. And now, the control of the event was being taken out of 
my hands. However, I had stuck firm on we would wear. I smiled to 
myself; this would all still be a surprise to him. 

I looked out upon Anor, setting steadfast in the sky. It would not be long I 
had to dress. I curtly shooed my attendants out of the room, they left only 
after a promise they could return soon. It was my belief they all stood 
directly outside the room listening intently over the short time it took me 
change. Where had such eagerness come from? 

I pulled my outfit into the bed; it was white, fitting I suppose. A wise 
choice. The trousers were of the softest material, one I could not identify. I 
ran it through my fingers and then pulled them on. They were tight, 
hugging my body, I couldn’t help but run my hands up and down the 
lower half of my body in admiration, they were certainly flattering. My 
thoughts at this point enough to make myself blush, I quickly snatched at 
my shirt. It was silk, undeniable, also of the purest snow white. I pulled it 
on slowly aware of the crowd waiting at the door tugging them into 
trousers loosely, tying the top fastenings limply, not completely, leaving a 
tantalising portion of my chest on show. My feet remained bare as I crept 
without sound to the door. 

I thanked Valar for elven grace as I opened the door, without it, three 
pretentious, well-groomed elves would have crashed unceremoniously to 
the floor, in I suspect, a large heap. As it happens, the event was disguised 
as a rare and unfortunate stumble of untraceable origin. Had I not 
predicted the happening to some degree, I would have been completely 
unable to suppress a giggle, even now I had difficulty. 

One of the elves stood nervously at the back, shuffling, carrying and 
almost crushing I might add, a large amount of white lilies. I gazed upon 
them with awe, amazed at their beauty, but sad they had been picked.

I was instructed to sit on the bed and attacked by a swarm of hairbrushes, 
after which the lilies were placed on my head, and tangled through it, 
making an incomplete halo. I was given one last severe brushing down 
and Haldir arrived. 

He looked me up and down and remarked in a non-committal fashion 
upon my attire, however, badly disguised lust was clear in his face, so 
much so, that one flustered elf stood protectively in front of me to block 
his view. At that I felt a warm rush of affection for the group of attendants. 
Despite my irritation they had been a great help, I made a point of loudly 
thanking them. They responded with glittering smiles and respectful nods, 
ushering me out, making sure one of them was always stood between 
Haldir and myself.

Nothing could have prepared me for the sight I beheld once I reached the 
clearing. Tables and seats lined the place, up in the trees and on the 
ground. A huge platform had been erected in the central tree. Each piece 
of wooden furniture was adorned with white ribbons. Every tree had a 
strings of lilies coiling all the way up it’s trunk and through it’s branches. 
That was not what struck me first. It appeared to be snowing. Then I saw 
every tree was filled with, and raining the softest white blossom, 
regardless of it’s species. It had already coated the ground.

Despite Haldir’s complaints, the other groom had not yet arrived and 
Galadriel stood with our fathers centrally, her dress also white but it 
sparkled in the dim golden light. I heard breath catch as I walked to her as 
many laid their first eyes upon me. I hoped I looked as good as they made 
out. I was led with the others up to the platform, Galadriel smiling kindly. 
From this vantage point I could make out many guests, the fellowship, 
Rumil, the twins and many other revered faces, Celeborn looked on. 

We waited for a few minutes before he swept into sight. Adorned entirely 
in midnight blue, a satin suit of my choosing, he looked utterly divine, 
receiving the same reception as I had. A steadying hand on my shoulder 
kept me upright as he ascended to join us, a hush descending upon the 
good-natured gathering.

Almost immediately, Galadriel stepped back to join her husband and we 
were turned to face each other. Galadriel began to recite the soft elvish 
vows.

You must love as one
Look not to the past, 
What is done is done. 
You must start anew
Like the new day,
As the morning dew.
You must forget all
Resist temptation, 
And the carnal call.
You must see only him
Your beloved other,
Until all light grows dim.

“Legolas do you agree?”

“I do.” The words the hardest yet easiest ones I have ever had to say.

“Aragorn do you?”

Silence, I was unable to look upon his face, I heard gasps from the crowd. 
As I looked back up to him, tears streamed his face.

“I do.”

A cheer resounded far into the forest.

“Very well.”

As we look upon the setting sun
We celebrate your union,
YOU ARE AS ONE.

With that, Aragorn pulled me into his arms and we kissed tentatively as 
Anor cast it’s last light down upon us.





He’s Back

The whole day had been a blur, despite the fact I was one of the two main 
points of focus, everything seemed to happen around me. I, myself, did 
very little, my chief duty merely sitting on the edge of a bed, having others 
fuss around and over me. It was actually quite pleasant to be the centre of 
attention; it is rare anyone frets over me so. My garments were brought in 
with worrying haste, Anor setting fast in the sky. The time approached, 
my elven companions all the more anxious. Legolas’ choice of outfit was 
perfect, though a little hugging in strategic places. The satin felt smooth 
and soft against my bare skin, sliding over it as I moved. 

I was just pondering over what my groom would wear when I was near 
dragged out the door. Someone had evidently spread the vicious rumour 
we were late. The whole building was in uproar. I, a tad calmer than my 
accompaniers (though now I believe I was in shock) refused steadfastly to 
run, determined my entrance should be one of serenity and grace.   

No amount of self-enforced calm could have prepared me for the sight of 
the clearing or my beloved waiting patiently, yet nervously for me on the 
raised centre platform. I smiled at how he paced, I would probably do the 
same if I were allowed to do so. However, I was blessed with a fleeting 
moment to look closer at him.

His hair flowed like liquid gold down his back, shining in the failing light. 
He wore no jacket, but a white shirt hung loosely over him, tucked into 
form fitting trousers. My eyes lingered over the ties of the shirt; he had not 
tied them completely. Deliberate? I had little time to decide, but licked my 
lips at the tiny piece of perfect chest that showed. He looked like an angel, 
a celestial being that had fallen from heaven into my arms. Completely 
infallible, and absolutely faultless. He smiled after seeing me, and my 
strong legs swayed in a desperate attempt to keep me standing. 

I was led courteously, but determinedly up the stairs by Haldir who had 
arrived with Legolas. Strange, he did not seem to exhibit the joy that most 
others seemed to. I stepped, sure footed onto the wooden platform where I 
was all too swiftly married, the only pause occurring when I was asked to 
consent. The hesitation was certainly not through any lack of surety. I had 
intended to agree without thought, yet I was suddenly hit with the 
magnitude of the situation. I was marrying the man I loved. We would be 
joined as one. Forever.

I looked down at the expectant faces, hundreds of them, all familiar. 
Friends, family, acquaintances, all of them wishing us the very best and 
happy for me. As I looked back to my husband-to-be, he dropped his head. 
I could not believe my luck. Even my foster father, the father of my 
previously betrothed had accepted my love and wished me happiness. I 
was crying now, completely unashamed. When Legolas looked up again, I 
could see to my horror he thought I was having second thoughts. I 
answered quickly, cramming as much love and conviction as I could into 
those two tiny words.  

The kiss was an explosion, both tenderness and passion. The pent up love 
poured into our actions, we were now official, accepted, right. We needed 
to hide from no-one.

Our passion lasted long into the night as we retired not long after the start 
of the next day, our first day as a married couple. I laid Legolas down 
upon the bed, taking my time undressing him and devouring his still form. 
He, I fear, had other ideas. Batting my hands away he pulled me onto him, 
smothering my mouth with his. In one swift motion, he flipped us, now 
pinning me between his thighs. He leant over, whispering seductively into 
my ear.

“You are too much of a tease my love, I shall have to take what I want 
from you.”

With that, my face broke into a broad smile.

In fact, I was still wearing that smile nine hours later that morning.

*************************

I shouldn’t really have been so happy, we were preparing horses to press 
on deep into Mordor to destroy the ring responsible for all evil in Middle 
Earth. A great and dangerous task, the fate of Middle Earth in our hands. 
Though I cannot lie, with the thought of Legolas back by my side, back to 
health, now my partner, I felt all the more stronger, the burden a little less 
heavy.

Seeing him back in tunic and leggings, daggers sheathed and bow and 
quiver on his back, was both a delightful and terrifying sight. He was back 
to health, but would now risk his life once more with the rest of us, again 
facing the dangers that had almost killed him.

He seemed to sense my fear and with a reassuring wink and smile he 
pulled Frodo onto his horse with him, tickling the protesting figure. He 
grabbed the reins and with a commanding cry, his horse charged off onto 
the forest. Gimli looked over to me from his horse with Boromir and 
grinned.

“He’s back.” And with that the horse galloped on to catch the elf.

I waited a moment before following. 

“Yes, he truly is.” 






Wishes, Prayers and Hope

Childish excitement whirled through my mind. The phrase ‘I’m married’ 
raced constantly repeated through my mind. I still couldn’t believe it. I had 
married my true love. This coupled with my renewed feeling of health and 
the wind blowing through my hair was enough to make me feel wonderful. 
I still gazed back now and again to mull over the Aragorn’s beautiful face 
and marvel at how he balanced three squirming hobbits on the horse in 
front of him. He met my gaze, a look of amused defeat on his face; I 
couldn’t help but giggle. I turned back quickly, I had Frodo to watch over 
and at the front of our group I had a responsibility to keep a look out. 
Frodo had noticed my distraction and was shaking his head. I ruffled his 
hair before speeding up slightly.

Soon horses would have to be swapped for boats, I looked forward to 
passing the great stone figures of the old kings, Aragorn’s ancestors. As I 
pulled young Frodo from the steed, an unwelcome feeling of unease 
washed over me, eyes were definitely upon us over on the other shore. I 
swallowed my fear with a smile and gestured to the hobbit to pack his 
things together.

Boats led waiting at the shore, Galadriel had kindly prepared them for us. 
Beautiful carved wooden vessels; it seemed almost a shame to use them. 
Now, at last the others had caught up with us and were selecting boats 
pushing them out onto the expanse of water. Aragorn wound a reassuring 
arm around my waist before climbing aboard a boat with the ringbearer. 
The tension I had felt before was rebuilding in me once again, Gimli even 
noticed my troubled expression. I dismissed his concerned by offering to 
row, grabbing the oar and moving off before he even had chance to 
answer.

The journey upstream was a calm one, I saw Aragorn gesturing to Frodo 
as the stone giants approached, he raised his head with a look of wonder 
that parodied Gimli’s. I still felt too unsure to appreciate the sight, but cast 
my eyes over them. 

We reached the shore and opted to rest. It was certainly welcome though I 
refused to show weakness and ask for it. I took this opportunity to tell my 
love how I felt. He looked over me concerned but did not heed my 
warnings in the way I had hoped. Our chance of a faintly intimate moment 
dashed by an enquiry of Frodo’s whereabouts. My stomach lurched when I 
saw that Boromir was missing too. I was reminded of my last lone 
moments in the forest with him. Surely the little hobbit was safe. Surely. 
There was not even half the conviction in my mind there needed to be. I 
marched off into the trees purposely, leaving the heir to Gondor behind. 
He called after me, but I lost him and the sound of his voice by dancing 
through the trees, following ill-disguised human tracks on the ground. It 
was not long before I heard voices, though it took me a long time to trace 
their location. Suddenly there were shouts. Boromir.

I listened, as he called to the ringbearer, desperate, ashamed. The type of 
cry I would ran from, I thought, so I turned my ear to the opposite 
direction. A rustling of leaves rewarded me. I followed the sound to a set 
of ruins, high upon a hilltop, where the halfling reappeared. I jumped 
down.

T