Title: Together  
Author: Julia  
E-mail: jul_cat_29@hotmail.com  
Genre: FPS  
Type: Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Action/Adventure, Drama, Romance  
Pairing: Legolas/Aragorn  
Rating: NC-17  
Summary: What if Legolas and Aragorn were together during the War of the Ring? How 
would their relationship survive?  
Series/Sequel: No sequel as of yet, but send me feedback of you like it and I will write 
more. I promise.  
Disclaimer: I don’t own Aragorn, Legolas, or anything or the characters in Lord of the 
Rings. Unfortunately. I just borrow them and play with them for a while. But if I did own 
them….hehe. No. All I own is the action figures…and you can have loads of fun with 
those babies! ;-) So yada yada yada, New Line Cinema own the films and therefore really 
own me, because I’m so obsessed.  
Warning: MPREG, very graphic sex scenes. If you don’t like, don’t read.  
Authors Note: Okay, this is for Jenny! Hope she likes it…this took me three days and I 
was doing other stuff at the same time. So my fingers are probably damaged for life, with 
all this typing. No seriously, I loved doing this. Jen, you need to nag me even more. This 
thing practically wrote itself once I got started…I love those boys. Hope you enjoy it! 
Constructive criticism always welcome!  
 
_____________________________________________________________________  
 
Together  
 
Aragorn breathed in sharply when Legolas stepped out onto the balcony, his hair blowing 
slightly in the light breeze. He was more beautiful than he could believe. The graceful elf 
sat down and looked over at him, shooting him a secret, tender smile that made Aragorn’s 
heart melt. He blushed slightly, smiling back, and then Elrond entered and he 
straightened up, ready to pay attention. He listened with one ear as Elrond spoke about 
the ring, not needing to pay that much attention as he already knew most of what was 
being said. Instead he watched Legolas, who was paying close attention to Elrond’s 
words. He admired the elf’s lithe, lean body, and watched as his tongue darted out to wet 
his lips occasionally. He was almost growing hard just watching him, his beauty 
overwhelming him as always.  
 
Aragorn could have spent aeons just watching Legolas, but he was forced to join in the 
conference after Boromir started to voice his opinions on the matter, getting so close to 
taking the ring that Gandalf had to stop him. All the elves were affected by his use of the 
Black Speech but Aragorn barely had time to study his lover’s pale complexion before he 
was drawn into making Boromir see sense. The Gondorian rejected his arguments, 
doubting his knowledge when Aragorn tried to tell him that the ring was not for anyone’s 
use but Sauron’s and therefore must be destroyed.  
 
“And what would a ranger know of this?” Boromir demanded. The question stung 
Aragorn’s pride, and he swallowed back an angry retort. Legolas however, could not bite 
his tongue.  
 
“This is no mere ranger. He is Aragorn, son of Arathorn.” He informed Boromir, standing 
up to make his point. He glanced at Aragorn, then back again, and his voice softened a 
little. “You owe him your allegiance.” His gaze switched to Aragorn, fiery, passionate 
eyes burning deep into his soul. Aragorn’s attention was so deeply focused on the elf that 
he didn’t really hear Boromir’s disbelieving comment, and he didn’t think he’d missed 
out very much either.  
 
Legolas stared back at Aragorn, aware of the love in the ranger’s eyes but also noting the 
reproaching expression on his face.  
 
“Havo dad, Legolas.” Aragorn said, gently but with a slight edge to his voice that only 
Legolas could have noticed. He obeyed, blushing slightly as he sat. He pushed the 
incident to the back of his mind as best he could, but he avoided meeting Aragorn’s face 
for the continuation of the meeting. He quickly found himself lost in the discussion over 
the ring, adding his own contribution and stepping in to defend his race when the dwarf 
Gimli insulted his people. The dwarf seemed both stupid and ignorant, which he had 
expected. He was Dwarvish after all. However he did not want to provoke a physical 
attack and so when his fellow elves stood up, he spread his arms out to stop them, despite 
his own anger. He was a Prince and therefore did have authority, and he knew that in the 
face of Sauron’s evil, a minor disagreement between Dwarves and Elves was pointless.  
 
The raucous suddenly stopped when a small voice spoke up. Frodo was going to take the 
ring to Mordor. Gandalf immediately stepped in to join him, and so did Aragorn. Legolas 
took that as his cue, offering Frodo his bow and ignoring the glare that Aragorn shot him. 
Gimli then offered his axe, which Legolas was not so pleased about, but he did not make 
a fuss, only stared at anything but Aragorn as the other hobbits pledged their loyalty to 
Frodo. It was all too soon when the meeting was over, Elrond had named them the 
‘Fellowship’ and everyone started to leave the balcony.  
 
Legolas remained behind, going to stand by the stone railing, looking down at the 
beautiful scenery but not really taking it in. He could feel Aragorn’s eyes boring into his 
back, but he couldn’t turn around.  
 
“I’m sorry. I know I shouldn’t have said that to Boromir. It was rash and I know that you 
can defend yourself. If you’d wanted to, you would have.” His voice got quieter at the 
end, and he suddenly found a bush at the bottom of the ravine very interesting.  
 
To his surprise, Aragorn’s voice was not angry. “Legolas, I did not mind that. It was 
inappropriate and unnecessary, yes, but I was touched that you would stand up for me.”  
 
“He had no right to talk to you that way.”  
 
“Legolas, it doesn’t matter. I do not want my title of king, and I never have. It was 
probably easy for Boromir to assume I was not king. I certainly do not look the part.” His 
tone took on a sad note, and Legolas turned around, meeting the tired grey eyes of his 
lover.  
 
“Don’t put yourself down. You are more beautiful to me that any other.” Legolas said, 
stepping close to him and cupping Aragorn’s face, enjoying the feel of the beard against 
his own smooth skin. “And there is no other who is worthy of your title.” He leaned in 
closer, breathing the words into the man’s ear. “King Elessar.”  
 
Aragorn laughed lightly. “I am still a Prince like you, Legolas. A mere Prince. But I in no 
way compare to you, in nobility, elegance or grace.”  
 
“Flattery will get you everywhere.” Legolas said, smiling and moving closer still.  
 
“No, Legolas. This is no jest. You are the person I care most about in the whole world. 
You’re so beautiful. I couldn’t stand it if anything happened to you.” He tucked a stray 
strand of hair behind Legolas’ ear. His voice dropped almost to a whisper. “That’s why 
you mustn’t be one of the Fellowship.”  
 
Legolas immediately pulled out of the physical contact, his eyes disbelieving and…was 
that hurt Aragorn detected in his eyes? The blue orbs soon became clouded with anger. “I 
can’t believe you. You want me to pull out? Because you think I might get hurt?” He 
shook his head and Aragorn tried to step forward again, but Legolas was too quick, 
darting backwards again. ”I won’t get hurt Aragorn. There’s more chance of you getting 
hurt than me. I’m a trained warrior, in case you had forgotten. And I’m older than you by 
quite a margin. I’m not glass, Aragorn. I won’t break. Don’t treat me like some child who 
cannot cope with the dangers because I can. I live in Mirkwood! Home to some of the 
most evil creatures around. I can handle this, Aragorn. Probably better than you ever 
could.” The last words were harsh and Legolas knew it, but he was so angry. He faced 
Aragorn with a steely glare.  
 
Aragorn looked at the elf. He certainly did look like a warrior then, the sun setting behind 
him and its red glow bathing Legolas in a fiery light. His whole stance was tense and at 
that moment, he looked so tough and hardy that Aragorn found it hard to believe that this 
was the same elf that had cried in his arms a few times, the same elf who could offer him 
so much comfort when he was upset.  
 
“I’m sorry.” Aragorn said eventually, quietly. “I know that you aren’t weak. But I just 
worry so much about you.” The anger dwindled slightly in Legolas’ eyes and when 
Aragorn stepped forward again, he did not try to escape his touch. Aragorn gently pulled 
the elf into a hug, feeling him slowly relax against him as the anger left his body. He 
kissed the pale neck tenderly, sweetly working his way up to Legolas’ lips. The elf 
welcomed the kiss, eagerly exploring Aragorn’s mouth with his tongue. The kiss became 
more passionate, and Aragorn found his belt had been undone by nimble fingers, his 
leggings dropping to the ground.  
 
“Oh, it’s been so long…” Legolas moaned as he worked on the ranger’s difficult 
fastenings, and then suddenly Aragorn was kissing him again with such fervour that his 
knees went weak. They slid to the floor together, the stone floor hard against Aragorn’s 
back but he barely noticed it; he was too engrossed in removing Legolas’ tunic, exposing 
the pale, perfect flesh and toned muscles. Their clothes were practically ripped off, 
strewn aside like old laundry as they devoured each others bodies, their passion partly 
because it was the first time in over a month they had been able to touch one another and 
also because of the ferocity of their recent argument.  
 
They were quickly stripped of their clothes, and Legolas began to move on top of 
Aragorn, their bellies rubbing together as their hard cocks moved against each other. 
Every touch sent shivers of warm electricity through their bodies, and Aragorn groaned in 
pleasure at the feel of Legolas’ slender body moving in rhythm with his own. The elf 
responded with an answering moan, his head arching upwards, exposing his throat and 
jaw line. Aragorn pressed brief kisses to the pale skin, nipping slightly and marking his 
lover, burning the flesh with his mouth and making Legolas cry out.  
 
Legolas looked down at Aragorn, welcoming the sting of his love bite and staring deep 
into the ranger’s grey eyes, glowing now with passion and love. They moved against one 
another more quickly now, the momentum building as they neared their climax. Legolas 
came first, releasing a loud scream of pleasure that Aragorn briefly thought would alert 
the whole of Rivendell to their presence. Then the warm cream settled on his belly, 
triggering his own release, and he couldn’t hold back his own cry, calling out Legolas’ 
name as waves of ecstasy flowed through him. He felt Legolas collapse on top of him and 
they lay there for a while, Aragorn couldn’t tell how long, the only sound being their 
breathing as it slowed down gradually.  
 
Aragorn held Legolas close to him, the elf’s long blond hair coming free of its braids and 
the face buried in his chest, only the tip of one pointed ear visible. Aragorn kissed it 
lightly, knowing that an elf’s ear was one of their most sensitive erogenous zones. 
Legolas shuddered, and moved closer to him. Aragorn shifted to accommodate him and 
realised how dark it had become, the only light now coming from the moon. It was cold, 
too, and Legolas was huddling towards him slightly, the breeze cool against his naked 
back and legs.  
 
“We should get up.” Aragorn said regretfully.  
 
“Yes.” Legolas agreed, but he made no move to do so.  
 
“When Elrond said we should attend to our business before leaving tomorrow, I don’t 
think this is what he had in mind.” Aragorn said, and Legolas chuckled, his nose digging 
into Aragorn’s shoulder. It was cold next to his skin.  
 
“You’re cold.”  
 
“Yes. But I don’t want to move. I’d like to stay like this forever. I love you.”  
 
“I love you too.” Aragorn said softly. “How about we go and take a bath together? And 
then we can get something to eat.”  
 
“I’ll go along with that.” Legolas agreed, and they stood up awkwardly, sharing another 
kiss before sneaking away to their chambers.  
 
***********************************************************************  
 
The Fellowship assembled the next morning in the courtyard in front of Elrond’s palace 
in Rivendell, waiting to go out on their quest. Aragorn looked around him, taking in the 
expressions of everyone there. He had spoken to Arwen and Elrond already, and they had 
given him their blessing and told him to stay careful. Aragorn had told Arwen again that 
she should leave Middle-Earth with her kin, but she was adamant about staying, her 
sisterly love for her brother such that she felt she had to stay until the fate of the World 
had been decided. She had spoken to him that morning, just as the sun was rising.  
 
“Do not fear the pull of the ring, Aragorn. You are strong enough to beat it. And you will 
have Legolas beside you the whole time.” Arwen was one of the few people who knew 
about their relationship, and Aragorn had told her because he trusted her implicitly. She 
was not just his sister but his closest friend beside Legolas. “Look after him, Aragorn. He 
may act strong and tough but he is young for an elf, many years younger than I, and the 
troubles to come will hit him hard.”  
 
“I know that, Arwen. But he is strong, and battle-hardened. I will let no harm come to 
him. He has lived through other terrors.”  
 
“This is a terror that threatens to end all our lives, Aragorn. You know this. I pray to the 
Valar that you succeed, for if you do not then it does not even bear thinking about. Be 
careful, Aragorn. And be brave; the time for you to accept your title is almost upon you.” 
With that, she kissed his cheek softly and then left.  
 
She nodded almost imperceptibly at him now as he glanced at her, and he answered with 
his own nod. He looked at the companions he was to travel with from then on. Gandalf 
looked as impassive as ever, but all the hobbits looked frightened, especially Frodo. The 
little hobbit carried a huge burden, Aragorn knew. He wondered whether the Halflings 
would survive the journey. He promised himself that they would not fall to their deaths so 
long as he was with them. Boromir’s face was also impossible to read, but Aragorn 
distrusted the Gondorian. He was too susceptible to the rings power. Gimli and Legolas 
stood together, but they were making the effort not to touch or look at one another. 
Aragorn hoped that the tension between the two would ease during their mission to 
destroy the ring.  
 
Legolas looked strong and ready to go, but Aragorn remembered Arwen’s words. There 
was a fragility to the elf that was almost imperceptible at the moment, the set of his jaw 
making him seem sturdy and belying his delicate frame. He looked beautiful, as always. 
They had spent all of the night together in each other’s arms, talking mainly as they 
caught up on the past events. Aragorn had gone to meet the hobbits at Bree and Legolas 
had gone to Mirkwood to see his father and siblings and to discuss the matter of the ring, 
and they had not seen each other in all that time.  
 
Despite their passionate and loud love-making last night, no-one seemed any the wiser 
for it. They had all been too absorbed in preparing for the long journey, and the balcony 
where the meeting had been held was far from the living quarters in Rivendell. Aragorn 
moved to stand with the rest of the Fellowship as Elrond gave them their parting words. 
They left, and Aragorn had to hide a smile as Frodo asked Gandalf for the directions.  
 
The journey was soon underway, and they travelled far over hills and grassland for many 
days. It was torture for Aragorn and Legolas. They walked together frequently, Aragorn 
being the skilled tracker and ranger and following the directions given to him by Gandalf, 
and Legolas acting as their eyes and ears. They enjoyed each others company, knowing 
each other so well that they could talk about anything and worked well together. 
However, the absence of physical contact was driving them mad. They were so close and 
yet so far from one another, managing only stolen kisses and brief bouts of passion 
behind bushes when they went on ahead, or between watches at night.  
 
The quest did not seem dangerous at all until the party came to the rocky top of a hill on 
their way, and Legolas spotted the Crebain. As soon as Gandalf announced that they were 
being watched, and they had to hurriedly hide, the whole party became subdued, the 
hobbits becoming more terrified than they already had been. Even Aragorn became 
nervous. They were forced to take the chilly path to Caradhras.  
 
There Boromir was again tempted by the ring, and Aragorn’s worry over the man’s state 
of mind grew. Aragorn helped the hobbits up the mountain, but what he wanted to do 
more than anything was to help Legolas. The elf walked easily on the snow that they all 
sank into, but Aragorn could see that he was suffering from the cold. Saruman attacked 
them and the snow fell, burying them for minutes before they fought their way out. 
Legolas pulled himself free first, and helped the others to their feet. The Fellowship were 
to go through the mines of Moira, and Aragorn did not miss the grimace that passed over 
Legolas’ face as the decision was made. He said nothing but as he reached down to help 
Aragorn stand, the ranger grabbed one of his delicate hands, and stared into his eyes 
meaningfully for as long as he dared with the others all around. Legolas nodded his 
acknowledgement and then pulled him out as his best he could.  
 
No-one talked on the way down to the walls of Moria, the company’s morale low. 
Aragorn watched Legolas carefully. The elf looked anxious, chewing on his lip 
occasionally and not stepping as lightly as he normally would. He was not as focused on 
his surroundings as he usually was, and Aragorn barely resisted the urge to reach out, hug 
him and comfort him.  
 
Legolas snapped half-heartedly at Gimli when they reached the walls but could not find 
the gate, receiving glances from both Gimli and Aragorn. The two normally bickered 
back and forth despite their surroundings, but since Caradhras Legolas had been 
remarkably quiet. Eventually they found the gate, and a little while later it was open. 
Aragorn breathed a sigh of relief, glad to be on his way again. However Legolas looked 
even more tense than before, stepping into the great cave slowly and reluctantly. When 
Frodo screamed out for help he was one of the first out, firing arrows with lightning 
speed.  
 
When they had retrieved Frodo they were forced to flee into the mines, and Aragorn 
found himself shouting for the elf to hurry, knowing that he could go faster if he wished. 
The walls collapsed and everything went silent and dark. Legolas found Aragorn and 
clutched at him frantically, his normally silent breathing harsh and loud in Aragorn’s 
ears. He took the elf’s hand, squeezing it reassuringly, unsure of what was wrong.  
 
When Gandalf’s staff lit up, Legolas breathed a huge sigh of relief, moving close to it. 
Aragorn followed him, beginning to realise what was the matter. The caves were dead, no 
plant life lived in them, and for a wood-elf that was torture.  
 
They moved on for the next two days quite quickly, and Aragorn walked with Legolas, 
using the dark to their advantage and taking his hand whenever possible. He felt Legolas 
tremble and lean against him when Gandalf came across a passage that he could not 
remember. The only thing they could do was wait. The two slipped behind an uncarved 
piece of rock to sit behind, out of view of any of the others but still within Legolas’ 
hearing distance. Aragorn could hear nothing, but the elf’s keen ears could have picked 
up every word in Frodo and Gandalf’s conversation if he had wanted to eavesdrop.  
 
Legolas leant against Aragorn, shuddering slightly. The only light they had was the faint 
glow of Gandalf’s staff, barely enough to make out each other’s facial features. The 
ranger held Legolas close, stroking the long blond hair gently and quietening him.  
 
“I cannot stand being in here, Aragorn.” The elf told him, snuggling close.  
 
“I know that. Don’t worry, Gandalf will not fail us. Soon we will be in the fresh air and 
you will be able to see and breathe properly again.”  
 
“The air is so stuffy in here…and the dark depresses me. Nothing but evil will come out 
of our journey through these mines.” Legolas said, his tone low and eerily spooky.  
 
“Let me take your mind off such things.” Aragorn said, kissing Legolas’ neck and face 
gently and tenderly. Legolas moaned aloud, arching into his every touch. Aragorn’s 
callused fingers explored lower, and Legolas joined in the touching, undressing Aragorn 
with practiced skill. They moved slowly, wanting to savour the moment as they knew that 
they might not have many more for who knew how long a time.  
 
They were both soon naked, the atmosphere dry and warm enough for them to bear. They 
both moaned in pleasure at the feel of the other’s hands on their bodies; having had to go 
without for so long, every caress was heaven. Legolas reached down and took Aragorn’s 
hard member in his hand, slowly pumping him with one hand and fondling his heavy 
balls with the other. Aragorn threw his head back in ecstasy, but just as he was about to 
come Legolas stopped, and Aragorn whimpered at the loss of his touch. He looked down 
at the elf questioningly, seeing very little in the dark.  
 
“I want you inside of me.” The elf said in a husky, lust-filled voice. “Right now.” 
Aragorn was only too willing to oblige, and forced himself to move slowly. He shifted, 
pulling the elf around so that he was straddling him, and then he felt the familiar curve of 
Legolas’ backside, finding his hole quickly. He slipped one digit inside and Legolas all 
but shrieked at the pleasure filling him. Aragorn followed that finger with another and 
then another, until the elf was stretched enough to take Aragorn’s huge, throbbing penis. 
Then he withdrew his fingers, and Legolas grunted slightly at the absence, only to find 
his fingers soon replaced by the weeping tip of Aragorn’s large cock.  
 
Aragorn pushed inside slowly, knowing that it was their first time in a while and it could 
hurt Legolas if he moved too fast. The elf gasped slightly as he pushed further in, and 
Aragorn felt him trembling with the pain.  
 
“I’m sorry, my love.” He said, ready to pull out to stop the pain.  
 
“No!” Legolas cried. “Don’t stop! I need this.”  
 
Aragorn pushed forward again, and Legolas’ groan of pain quickly changed to a shout of 
pure pleasure as Aragorn hit his sweet spot, sending tidal waves of rapture through his 
body. Aragorn pulled out before thrusting back in again, and Legolas responded with 
another scream. Aragorn thrust faster and harder, feeling Legolas’ hard cock pressing into 
his stomach, and the sounds the elf was making only drove him even more wild with 
passion and desire. Legolas came first, coating Aragorn’s belly and stimulating the 
ranger’s own release, and he filled Legolas with his seed with a shout of ecstasy.  
 
Aragorn saw stars, and for many minutes they sat there, their breathing wild and erratic 
as they came back down to Earth and unravelled, ending up lying on the floor in each 
others arms. They lay like that for a while, not saying anything, just staring into each 
other’s eyes.  
 
“I love you more than anything else in the world.” Aragorn whispered, and Legolas 
echoed the sentiment. He felt like he could have lain there for ever, despite the 
claustrophobia of Moria. He groaned, burying his head in Aragorn’s chest suddenly. 
“What’s wrong?” Aragorn asked worriedly.  
 
“We have to go. Gandalf’s found the way.” Legolas leaned in for another kiss, cutting off 
Aragorn’s groan. The kiss was unlike any other that they had experienced. It made 
Aragorn light-headed and dizzy with desire, and Legolas’ eyes mirrored the love he felt. 
They pulled apart, and it took a while for him to recover. When he had, he looked up at 
Legolas, and shook his head slightly to clear it as they rose to their feet and pulled on 
their clothing as quickly as possible, grateful that the dark would hide their dishevelled 
appearances.  
 
He watched with some bemusement as Legolas led the way to follow the others, and 
couldn’t help but notice that Legolas seemed almost to be glowing from within, his body 
emitting a faint light that made it easier for him to follow. He shook his head again, sure 
that it must just be his eyes playing up because of the dark mines, and they headed on 
after the rest of the Fellowship.  
 
***********************************************************************  
 
They reached the great halls, and everyone gaped in awe at them, except for Aragorn, 
whose attention was focused solely on Legolas, who seemed to have become even more 
beautiful over the last few hours. There was something different about the elf, although 
Aragorn couldn’t put his finger on it directly. It could just have been that the light from 
Gandalf’s staff just highlighted his natural beauty, but somehow Aragorn felt that 
Legolas’ aura was different than usual.  
 
However, he had hardly any time to dwell on it. The time seemed to pass in a blur as they 
found Balin’s tomb and then found themselves facing a huge fighting force of orcs and a 
cave troll. It was Legolas who brought him down in the end, but Aragorn had a huge 
scare when he thought Frodo was dead. He had hardly any time to feel relief though, 
because as soon as the cave troll was defeated, they were running for their lives against 
the Balrog. Aragorn had never heard of a Balrog before but it was obvious that Legolas 
had. As soon as Gandalf mentioned the word, the elf’s face grew tense and his breathing 
more laboured.  
 
Then they were running, so fast that Aragorn thought his lungs might burst. They flew 
down the path to the bridge, and he saw the frantic worry in Legolas’ eyes as he hovered 
on the unstable pillar of steps, only to feel the elf’s relief when he fell into his arms. But 
the time was still flying past, too fast for him to be thinking straight as they bolted for the 
exit.  
 
But suddenly the opposite happened, and instead of flying, time seemed to stand still. 
Gandalf stepped out to take on the Balrog, and just as everything looked as though it was 
going to be alright, he fell. Into the endless abyss below. Frodo’s scream of agony ripped 
through Aragorn’s heart, and he ran out of the mines at Boromir’s back.  
 
Out on the hillside, grief overwhelmed everyone. The hobbits sank to the ground, crying 
openly. Aragorn wished he could do the same, but knew that it had now become his 
responsibility to lead the Fellowship on to Lothlorien. Gimli and Boromir hugged one 
another for consolation. He knew that he had to keep them moving.  
 
“Legolas, get them up.” He told the elf. Legolas turned around and Aragorn’s heart 
nearly broke at the expression on his face. He looked so shocked, so overwhelmed by the 
death that Aragorn was reminded just how fragile the elf could be. He had very little 
knowledge of death, and confusion was written all over his face. He stumbled over to 
Merry and Pippin blindly, not looking like he knew what he was doing really.  
 
Aragorn called Frodo and saw the hobbit’s face was tear-stained and devastated. The 
hobbit was incredibly sensitive and perceptive. Aragorn was sure that he knew more 
about their relationship than the other members of the Fellowship. He wondered whether 
they were obvious or not, but had to push any thoughts of Legolas out of his head as he 
assessed their situation.  
 
They went towards Lothlorien as fast as Aragorn could push them to go, desperate to get 
to the peaceful forest before the orcs and goblins could catch up to them. They reached it 
finally, and Aragorn felt relief but knew that he couldn’t relax just yet. The Lorien elves 
soon found them, and a familiar face stepped out of the trees to greet them.  
 
“That dwarf breathes so loud, we could have shot him in the dark.” Came a silky voice. 
Haldir. Aragorn and Legolas knew the elf well, from the days when they had first met. 
They greeted each other, and then Aragorn had to negotiate for their entry into the realm 
of Galadriel.  
 
After some argument, they were allowed in. Aragorn looked at Frodo, worried about the 
hobbit. He looked terrified, and kept looking about him nervously.  
 
Lothlorien was more beautiful than Aragorn had remembered, the ethereal music adding 
to the silvery, mystical atmosphere. Galadriel came to meet them, and she spoke to them 
all, not just collectively but also in their minds individually. She told him that it was his 
time to take on the position of leader, but Aragorn listened with only half an ear, his mind 
on the death of Gandalf and the emotional state of the Fellowship. He noticed that 
Legolas looked shocked; whatever she had told him was obviously a surprise. He looked 
almost disbelieving and didn’t speak on the way down to where they were to sleep. He 
knew that the elf was deeply affected by Gandalf’s death, though; he could see it in his 
expressive blue eyes and hear it in his voice when he explained the ethereal music to the 
hobbits.  
 
He made a promise to go and comfort the elf after he had spoken to Boromir. The man 
seemed particularly unsettled, and Aragorn spoke to him, trying to dissuade his fears. The 
man wasn’t so bad really, just deeply troubled by the threat of war on his people. He left 
him to rest, and the days events began to hit him as he went in search of Legolas. He 
found the elf talking with Haldir underneath a tree, and they looked up when Aragorn 
came. Legolas’ face immediately clouded with concern for his lover. Aragorn looked 
weary and upset. Haldir sensed it also, and rose to his feet. He walked over to Aragorn 
and gave him a swift hug.  
 
“I’ll leave you two alone.” He said, walking off into the woods. Aragorn sat down next to 
Legolas and sighed. The elf pulled him closer, letting Aragorn lean against him. They sat 
there, not having to say anything for a while, and soon Aragorn was burying his face in 
Legolas’ slim chest, the day’s events overwhelming him suddenly.  
 
“It’s okay.” Legolas soothed him.  
 
“No, it’s not. Everything is wrong. Galadriel spoke in my mind…she said that it was my 
time to take the position of leader. I don’t think I’m ready for that.”  
 
“There is no-one else more suited to taking charge than you. Who else could do it? Not I, 
or Gimli, or any of the hobbits. And I seriously doubt that Boromir is in the right state of 
mind to make his own decisions, let alone our own.” He joked weakly, but their moods 
were too subdued.  
 
“I wish Gandalf were still with us.” Aragorn said.  
 
“So do I.” Legolas said, and breathed in deeply, tears springing to his eyes that he had 
held back for so long. He hugged Aragorn properly, the two of them clinging to each 
other in a warm embrace as they let out their grief over the wizard’s death. It took some 
time before either of them moved, and even then it was just Legolas trailing kisses down 
Aragorn’s exposed neck. They had taken off their outer clothing, leaving Legolas 
wearing only his silver tunic and Aragorn a thin brown shirt, which Legolas quickly 
undid, and his tongue moved further down, deftly caressing a nipple until it was hard. 
Aragorn groaned, the elf’s sweet touches driving him wild and pushing his grief to the 
back of his mind.  
 
His tongue found Aragorn’s bellybutton and he explored it fully, while untying the man’s 
pants as he did so. He reached down, taking Aragorn’s balls and cupping them gently, the 
feather-light touch making Aragorn cry out and beg for more. Legolas teased him a little 
longer, his lips touching everything but Aragorn’s erect member, and the ranger groaned 
and arched upwards. Eventually Legolas took pity on him, and drew the huge cock into 
his mouth. Aragorn cried out in rapture, and Legolas began to work magic with his 
tongue. Aragorn was in heaven. The sensations drove away his sadness, for now at least, 
and he ran his hands through the elf’s long blond hair. He bucked upwards as he came, 
letting out a cry that was nearly a shriek of ecstasy. He threw his head backwards, his 
eyes getting back their focus as he leant against the back of the huge tree. And then he 
froze.  
 
Legolas froze too, instantly knowing something was wrong. He looked up at Aragorn, 
gulping at the ranger’s stricken expression. He was staring at something and Legolas 
turned around. He gasped when he saw that someone was there, someone standing with 
an equally shocked look on his face. It was Gimli.  
 
As they looked, the dwarf seemed to shake himself and turned, running off into the 
woods. Legolas turned back to Aragorn.  
 
“What are we going to do?” Aragorn asked. “One of us should go and speak to him.” He 
answered his own question. He made to get up but Legolas placed a hand on his chest.  
 
“No, I’ll go.”  
 
“You?” Aragorn asked with a raised eyebrow.  
 
“Yes, me!” Legolas replied with a smile. “I can handle the dwarf.” He pressed a kiss to 
Aragorn’s mouth briefly, but still lovingly, and then rose, disappearing quickly and 
silently, leaving Aragorn to refasten his pants.  
 
***********************************************************************  
 
Legolas found Gimli quickly, the dwarf unskilled in woodland and leaving very visible 
tracks and noises. He ran to catch up with him as he walked on.  
 
“Wait!" He called, coming to stand beside him. The dwarf looked at him, and Legolas 
thought that beneath the bushy beard the dwarf’s face was red. “About what you saw 
back there-”  
 
“It was none of my business.” Gimli said. “Your sex life is no matter of mine, elf.”  
 
“It would make me feel better if you understood our relationship, Gimli.” Legolas said 
softly, swallowing all of his pride as he called the dwarf by his name. Gimli softened a 
little, realising that that the elf must be serious.  
 
“Carry on.”  
 
“Aragorn and I are in love, Gimli; we are not merely fooling around. My love for him is 
greater than for any other. We have not told many because it is not the time, not in the 
face of such fear.” The expression on Legolas’ face was so open that Gimli reached 
forward and hugged the elf, surprising them both. He pulled away quickly.  
 
“Your love moves me, “he explained to the elf, “because in times of sadness it is nice to 
have some hope and passion. You make a good couple.”  
 
“Thank you, Gimli. I value your opinion greatly. You are indeed a great warrior…I 
cannot understand why such animosity is present between our two races.” Legolas said, 
clasping the dwarf’s rough hand.  
 
“Let there be no more animosity between us, then.” Gimli said, squeezing back. 
However, Legolas’ grip suddenly faltered and he raised his other hand to his head briefly 
as a wave of dizziness engulfed him. It passed quickly enough, but when his head was 
cleared he found Gimli looking at him curiously. “Is something wrong, Legolas?”  
 
“No, no, it’s nothing. Thank you for understanding, Gimli. I’m sorry you had to catch us 
in such an exposed…position.” The dwarf chuckled and smiled, and Legolas returned the 
laughter, before squeezing the dwarf’s hand once again and then heading back.  
 
He waited until Gimli was out of sight before he slumped against a tree trunk, and slid 
down, shaking his head to clear it completely. The wave of dizziness had shocked and 
scared him. What if Galadriel’s words were true? He laid a delicate hand on his flat belly, 
remembering her voice in his head.  
 
“Legolas. It is good to see you well, little one.” She had said, and he had grimaced 
slightly at the use of ‘little one’. As one of the youngest elves in Middle Earth, it was 
expected, but he felt that at nearly three thousand years old he was no longer young or 
little. “You will always be young in my eyes, Legolas. I knew you since you were a babe. 
And now you carry your own offspring.” Legolas balked, looking at her like she was 
mad. “Did you not realise? Legolas, you are with child….Aragorn’s child!” Legolas 
struggled to take her words in.  
 
“It cannot be!” He replied in his mind.  
 
“It is so, Legolas. You bear a child…young still, but soon you will begin to feel the 
effects it has on your body.”  
 
“I think that you are wrong, lady. It can’t be true.”  
 
“You know that you are able to bear children, do you not?”  
 
“Yes…but it is very rare for one who has the gift to actually be able to…the spell was 
cast upon me and all my brothers when we came of age...but it was thought to have 
failed…”  
 
“It did not, Legolas. A child lives inside you. Do not fear, everything will be alright.” She 
had left him with those kind words, but they did not reassure him or even convince him.  
 
He refused to believe it, although he knew that being pregnant with Aragorn’s child was 
one of the things that he had dreamed about doing. Now, however, with a dizzy spell that 
seemed to have come out of nowhere, he was beginning to suspect that her words were 
true.  
 
He remembered the spell being cast. Many male elves were cast upon at that time, when 
the birth rate of elf children had fallen to a tiny number. Even now, one birth a year in the 
whole of Middle-Earth was considered to be normal, and even that was dropping to 
maybe one every two years.  
 
He had never told Aragorn, the spell was thought to have failed after his first thousand 
years as an elf, having slept with many and conceived from none. He could not help the 
smile that flickered across his face as he rubbed his stomach protectively. Rising from his 
seat, he went to find Aragorn, but decided not to tell him yet. He still was not sure 
whether it was true and did not know what the ranger’s reaction would be.  
 
***********************************************************************  
 
They stayed a little longer at Lothlorien before moving on, and the lady Galadriel gave 
them gifts at the end. They sailed away from Lothlorien in good spirits, the Golden wood 
bringing them happiness despite the recent loss of Gandalf. Legolas had become firm 
friends with Gimli, finding the dwarf to be much deeper than he appeared, and able to 
amuse Legolas with his many stories. He spent a great deal of time with Aragorn in the 
valley, and they tried to make it worthwhile, knowing that dark times were ahead.  
 
Legolas had suffered no more dizzy spells and assumed that Galadriel had indeed been 
wrong, although the doubts still lingered at the back of his mind. However, he had hardly 
any time to dwell on his problems. The journey down the great river took concentration 
and he spent much of his time talking to Gimli. However, another concern was growing 
his mind; he felt as though a darkness was approaching. His ears picked up too many 
strange sounds on the banks, and every now and then his sensitive nose would pick up a 
familiar, foul smell. But they were too miniscule to be anything definite, and so he did 
not mention them.  
 
Aragorn found himself worrying too, although he could not place his finger on what 
bothered him. Boromir was becoming a liability, and one night, when Gimli said he 
would take watch so that he and Legolas could go off by themselves, they talked about 
him.  
 
“He is losing his grasp on sanity.” Legolas said.  
 
“The ring is too powerful; it haunts his mind, and he is more susceptible to it because he 
worries about his people. Are all men so weak? You are not affected by it.” Aragorn said, 
wrapped in Legolas’ arms.  
 
“I am not affected by it because I have everything already to satisfy me. I have you. And 
you will not succumb to the ring’s power, Aragorn. You are too strong.”  
 
“But I am Isildur’s he-”  
 
“That means nothing. You are not Isildur, you are a braver and wiser person than he ever 
was, and you do not have the vanity that he did. You will prevail.” He pressed a kiss to 
Aragorn’s messy hair. “I know it.”  
 
Aragorn pressed closer to him. “You are my lifeline, Legolas. I don’t know what I would 
do without you by my side. I could not survive if anything happened to you.”  
 
“Don’t talk like that.” Legolas said.  
 
“You are so strong.” Aragorn said, shutting his eyes.  
 
“Shh. Get some rest, Aragorn, I will be with you all night.” Legolas said soothingly, 
holding the ranger close and feeling his breathing become regular and deep as he drifted 
into rest.  
 
The elf felt anything but strong at that moment. He felt oppressed, frightened by the 
threat of whatever dark force was assembling. Aragorn’s words had made him even more 
frightened of what to do if he was pregnant. He was sure that Aragorn would be angry at 
him for getting into such a position. He would order him to leave the Fellowship and 
keep safe, and Legolas could not bear to leave his lover alone in such times of danger. 
Aragorn needed him right now; he had said so himself. Legolas would not tell him any of 
his worries, not until he knew for definite and he had a solution. He pressed a kiss to 
Aragorn’s head again and then let his eyes glaze over, preparing to rest himself.  
 
***********************************************************************  
 
The next morning, Gimli awoke them a little before dawn, so as to continue to keep their 
relationship secret. The bad feeling that Legolas had was worse, and he remained very 
quiet as they sailed. At one point, he suffered from another dizzy attack, and he felt 
Gimli’s concerned gaze boring into his back. He turned and gave the dwarf a reassuring 
nod. However, he himself felt far too unsettled.  
 
He looked in awe at the Argonath as they passed them, and looked over at his lover. 
Aragorn’s face was full of awe too, and Legolas could clearly see the same nobility he 
saw in the tall statues in his face as he looked over at Legolas with barely suppressed 
wonder and joy. It made Legolas grin, to see his lover looking so happy when last night 
he had been so low.  
 
They pulled the boats into the shore on the western side just before the great falls of 
Rauros, and Legolas had yet another wave of light-headedness as he pulled the boat to 
shore. He tried to hide it from Gimli, but the dwarf knew him too well by then and went 
over to him, whispering quietly in his ear.  
 
“What troubles you, Legolas? Are you ill?”  
 
“No, Gimli. It is nothing. Do not worry.” He tried to smile but, but the darkness was 
threatening once again and he merely swallowed and shook his head slightly to clear it.  
 
He went to see Aragorn as soon as he could.  
 
“We should leave now.”  
 
“No. Orcs patrol the Eastern shore. We must wait for cover of darkness.”  
 
“It is not the Eastern shore that worries me.” Legolas said, looking about him nervously. 
“A shadow and a threat has been growing in my mind. Something draws near.” He 
looked into Aragorn’s eyes. “I can feel it.”  
 
“Where’s Frodo?” They were interrupted by Merry who noticed that Frodo was missing. 
Sam looked about wildly for his missing master. Aragorn instantly looked around, and 
his eyes fastened on Boromir’s shield, but Boromir was missing. He looked at Legolas.  
 
“Go and find him.” The elf told him. “We will stay…evil is approaching, Aragorn, take 
care. I fear that we will be attacked very soon.” He gave the man a short, but strong and 
passionate hug, not caring that the others saw. Aragorn looked at him, his eyes full of 
confusion and a hint of fear. “Go!” Legolas urged him, and he turned away, running into 
the forest.  
 
Aragorn found Frodo at the top of the hill, the halfling seeming to fall out of nowhere. 
The little hobbit looked terrified, scared that Aragorn was going to try and take the ring. 
Aragorn knelt in front of him as he offered it, and remembering Legolas’ words, folded 
the hobbit’s hands over the ring.  
 
He realised then what Frodo meant to do, and gave him his word that he would look after 
the others. Then he found himself in the face of a huge army of Uruk-hai, and 
commanded Frodo to run. He prayed that the hobbit would get to safety. Then he went to 
face the vicious beasts, his last thought before he went to battle an image of Legolas.  
 
***********************************************************************  
 
Legolas told the other hobbits to hide, but he knew that Sam was going to disobey him 
and try to find Frodo. He only hoped that he would, and he ran into the forest after 
Aragorn, Gimli at his heels. He knew that the Uruk-hai were here, and they were going to 
attack, hard and strong. They were outnumbered hopelessly.  
 
However, when he saw Aragorn fighting, alone against a huge number of orcs, having 
managed to slay a great number already, his blood began to heat up, and he ran even 
faster, adrenaline kicking in. He used his bow to kill many of them, completely lost in the 
heat of battle as he slew beast after beast, automatically slicing and shooting and killing 
them one by one. The assassin and warrior blood in him came to the fore and he acted 
purely on instinct. He occasionally saw Aragorn and Gimli out of the corner of his eyes, 
fighting as ferociously as he was.  
 
They had slain a countless number when a distinctive sound reached his ears.  
 
“The horn of Gondor!” He cried, and Aragorn flew past him, leaving him and Gimli to 
kill off the last of the orcs. He did not know how, but they had defeated a great number of 
them, although he knew that many had escaped death also. He wondered how everyone 
else had fared.  
 
They ran down to Aragorn after, and Legolas stopped dead, seeing his lover standing 
over the dead Boromir. He felt tears welling up in his eyes, death still a huge shock for 
him. Especially when it was Boromir, one he had been travelling with for weeks. Aragorn 
stood and Legolas saw a tear slip down the man’s stubbled cheek. He crossed over to him 
and hugged him wordlessly, then pulled back, tenderly cupping his cheek before asking 
gently, “What has happened to the others?”  
 
“Merry and Pippin were captured…Boromir died trying to save them…we got here too 
late. Frodo has set off to Mordor alone…I do not know where Sam is.” Aragorn told him.  
 
“We must go after them!” Legolas cried, and he ran off to the beach, Aragorn and Gimli 
following slowly with Boromir’s body. They sent it down the stream in one of the boats, 
a fitting send-off for a warrior. Boromir had not told Legolas the whole story, Legolas 
could tell, but he did not push his lover for details.  
 
The man was bandaging his cut arm, and Legolas took over, his delicate hands and gentle 
touch soothing the sting. Then he went to push one of the boats out. Gimli and Aragorn 
did not move. “You mean not to follow them?” He said, his eyes questioning. He could 
still see Sam and Frodo climbing up the other shore.  
 
Aragorn told him that they should not, but instead they would go after Merry and Pippin, 
and not abandon the little hobbits to death. Then he reached out and pulled the elf into a 
tender hug, and they stood like that for a while, only pulling apart when Gimli coughed 
politely. Somehow just holding Legolas close gave Aragorn comfort and courage.  
 
“Let’s hunt some orc.” He said, and they grinned, and followed him into the forest.  
 
***********************************************************************  
 
They ran endlessly, three days of running on the tails of the Uruk-hai, with hardly any 
rest and barely stopping to eat. The strain was beginning to show, especially on Gimli, 
and Legolas felt himself beginning to grow exhausted. He wondered how Aragorn could 
keep it up. The man was so intent on catching the Uruk-hai that he barely noticed the 
elf’s unusual tiredness.  
 
They met the Rohirrim, led by Eomer, while tracking the Uruk-hai, and Legolas did not 
even hear them coming, his mind on other things, like trying to explain his strange 
weakness away. Not to Aragorn or Gimli but to himself, as he tried to convince himself 
that nothing was wrong with him at all, that there was no way that he could be pregnant, 
although he felt elated every time he thought of he and Aragorn bringing up a child. It 
made him feel warm and sentimental, and he found himself cuddling up to Aragorn 
whenever they had one of their short breaks.  
 
The meeting was at first tense, but Aragorn managed to calm the situation, briefly cursing 
his hot-blooded companions for speaking before thinking. At least they were firm friends 
now, he thought, watching how Legolas and Gimli defended one another fiercely.  
 
Eomer gifted them with two horses, and then left them. Legolas was relieved at having a 
horse now, having been feeling more and more lethargic. He felt at home on the horse, 
and it calmed immediately beneath his skilled hands, carrying both him and Gimli easily. 
They found the site where the orcs had been burned by the Rohirrim and as Gimli sifted 
through the charred remains, Legolas found himself unable to do anything. He was 
stricken by grief, and the acrid smell of burnt orc made him feel sick to his stomach, 
something that he had rarely experienced.  
 
When Gimli found the elf-belts that the hobbits had worn, his heart skipped a beat. 
Aragorn fell to the ground, letting out his grief in a grief-filled, guttural cry that ripped at 
Legolas’ heart. He moved to comfort the ranger, but as he placed a hand on his shoulder, 
Aragorn suddenly found something in the grass, a sign of life.  
 
“A hobbit lay here. And another.” Legolas’ heart filled with hope again. Merry and 
Pippin still lived! But they had ventured into Fangorn Forest, which was rumored to be 
more densely populated with strange beings than even Mirkwood.  
 
Aragorn led them in, and they followed the hobbit’s trail. The trees were very old and 
powerful and Legolas felt at home, reverting back to his elven ways and speaking to 
Aragorn in Elvish, much to Gimli’s exasperation.  
 
The trees told him that the White Wizard was coming and all three warriors brought their 
weapons to the ready as a tall figure appeared in a blinding flash of light. They attacked 
and their weapons were pushed aside easily. Then the figure unveiled himself…it was 
Gandalf’s face. Legolas dropped to his knees automatically, and Gimli followed suit. He 
looked up at Aragorn and Gandalf standing together and it looked so right; the King of 
Wizards and the future King of Men.  
 
The four of them rode on together to Edoras, the capital of Rohan, after being reassured 
that Merry and Pippin were safe and collecting Gandalf’s horse, Shadowfax. Legolas was 
in awe of the immensely powerful beast.  
 
They galloped on to Edoras, receiving a cold welcome. He took Gandalf’s arm as they 
entered the stone palace, keeping up the guise of him being a weak old man, but the 
wizard showed his true power as he forced Saruman to give up control of Theoden’s 
body. Their weapons taken away from them, Aragorn, Gimli and Legolas had to fend off 
the guards with their bare hands. Gandalf stripped off his grey cloak, even more powerful 
now as Gandalf the White than he had been as Gandalf the Grey.  
 
They watched as Theoden returned to his normal self again, his appearance drastically 
changing in front if them. Legolas’ attention was elsewhere though, as a woman tried to 
grab Gandalf as he worked his magic, and Aragorn held her back. He knew that it was 
necessary but for Aragorn to touch her was torture for Legolas.  
 
Grima Wormtongue, Saruman’s slave and spy, was banished from the capital, and 
Legolas watched with admiration as Aragorn stopped Theoden from foolishly and 
vengefully killing him. They then headed inside, ready for some well-deserved food and 
also to discuss what to do.  
 
To his surprise, although Legolas had thought he was hungry, he was barely able to eat a 
morsel, his stomach churning with nausea at the sight of food. He claimed he wasn’t 
hungry and stood against one of the pillars as Gimli and Aragorn ate their fill. Gandalf 
talked to Theoden about the threat to his city, which they had been alerted to after the 
arrival of two children whose village had been utterly destroyed. Legolas didn’t pay any 
attention, for some reason he couldn’t seem to concentrate, hardly noticing when 
Theoden insulted Aragorn over his true title. The past few day’s events must be catching 
up, he thought, as the room began to spin wildly around him.  
 
He leant against the pillar for support, and closed his eyes, trying to will the awful 
dizziness away. But it wasn’t working and Legolas found himself slipping into the black 
abyss of unconsciousness.  
 
He fell to the floor suddenly and unexpectedly, landing with a thud that got everyone’s 
attention. Aragorn rushed over to him, immediately checking the elf for any sign of fever. 
Gandalf came over also, and they knelt beside Legolas’ prone figure.  
 
“He is not feverish. He is not wounded either, Gandalf, what is wrong with him?” 
Aragorn asked in an anxious voice.  
 
“I do not know, Aragorn. I think he has merely fainted.” The wizard rose to his feet, 
turning towards Theoden. “Is there a room where I can examine him?”  
 
“Of course, follow me.” The king said, rising and starting through one of the oak doors. 
Aragorn picked up the elf gently, as though he was a small child. The elf was light and 
easy to lift, and he managed him easily until he reached the room, where he lay Legolas 
down on the soft bed.  
 
“What can I do?” He asked Gandalf.  
 
“Clear the room, he should not be overcrowded. That includes you, Aragorn. The last 
thing he needs is someone fussing over him when he is probably going to be embarrassed 
with himself.” The ranger gave him a pathetic look. “Bring some water in about ten 
minutes. He should be awake by then.”  
 
The wizard shut the door on them, and then went to tend to Legolas. The elf was 
extremely pale, almost as pale as the sheets he lay on, but Gandalf already thought that he 
knew what was wrong. He patted Legolas’ face lightly and the elf soon groaned and 
began to come round, his eyes opened slowly and taking a little while to focus.  
 
“Where am I?” He asked.  
 
“In one of Theoden’s chambers. You fainted, Legolas.”  
 
“I what?” Legolas asked incredulously. He tried to sit up but was assailed by dizziness 
again, and felt himself being pushed back down by a firm hand.  
 
“You fainted. And I think you know why, Legolas.” Gandalf said, looking deep into 
Legolas’ eyes. The elf squirmed slightly under his gaze. “Did you know that you are 
pregnant?”  
 
“So it’s definite?” Legolas asked him quietly.  
 
“I’ll take that as a yes. Yes, Legolas, you are definitely with child. I presume it is 
Aragorn’s?”  
 
“Yes.” Legolas confirmed.  
 
“Does he know?”  
 
“No. And I don’t want him to.” Legolas said quickly. Gandalf looked at him, searching 
for an explanation. “I’m frightened of what his reaction will be.”  
 
“I think that he will be happy, Legolas. He will be thrilled, and will want you to be 
careful.”  
 
“That’s exactly the problem. He’ll want to send me away, and I cannot leave him, not 
now. Not like this. I will not stay at home safe while so many others fight for Middle-
Earth valiantly.”  
 
“It would not be cowardly to do so. It is very rare for an elf to conceive, Legolas. This 
baby is very special.”  
 
“I know that. But I will not abandon Aragorn and I will fight.” Legolas’ eyes glowed 
stubbornly and Gandalf sighed.  
 
“Fine, I will not tell him. But you will have to, Legolas. Eventually. And it would be 
better to do so sooner rather than later.” He leant down and kissed the elf’s head gently. 
“Just make sure that you look after yourself. And eat more, too. You’re thin. Especially 
for a pregnant elf. You’re eating for two now.”  
 
They were interrupted by the door swinging open, and Aragorn’s head appeared around 
it.  
 
“Can we come in now?”  
 
“Yes, you may.” Legolas called out, and Legolas and Gimli entered with a pitcher of 
water, some glasses and a plate of lembas. Aragorn rushed straight to his side.  
 
“How are you feeling?” He touched Legolas gently, as though frightened he would break.  
 
“I’m fine, Aragorn, honestly. Only my pride is injured.” Aragorn obviously didn’t believe 
him, and looked up at Gandalf.  
 
“He will be fine, Aragorn. He just needs a little rest and some food. You must have run as 
though you were being chased by a Balrog to tire him out this much.” Gandalf said, 
smiling but giving Legolas a pointed look.  
 
“He’s not the only one.” Gimli said, sitting down in one of the chairs and taking a bite of 
a chicken leg he had brought in with him. Gandalf moved to sit beside him, giving 
Legolas and Aragorn some privacy. Aragorn leant close to Legolas and kissed his cheek, 
very softly and sweetly.  
 
“Don’t you ever frighten me like that again.”  
 
“I’ll try not to.” Legolas replied, pasting a cheerful smile on his face. Aragorn seemed to 
buy the story, though, and helped Legolas eat some of the lembas and drink some water. 
The elf felt much better afterwards.  
 
***********************************************************************  
 
Legolas recovered quickly, feeling as though nothing had happened by the time the 
decision had been made to head for the stronghold of Helm’s Deep. They rode out with a 
trail of Edoras inhabitants, with only the three of them and Theoden’s guards able to fight 
well.  
 
Legolas rode next to Aragorn for most of the time, the ranger sticking to Legolas like 
glue after his fainting spell, obviously worried and concerned for the elf. Legolas 
pretended that he was annoyed but he actually enjoyed the fuss Aragorn lavished on him, 
enjoying knowing that the man cared for him. Gimli, too, kept coming and asking him if 
he was alright. Gandalf had left, gone to find the Rohirrim to aid them when the evil 
forces attacked.  
 
Legolas felt alright at the moment, his weakness and dizziness seemingly gone, at least 
for the moment. He scouted ahead for the party. His elven sight made him the obvious 
choice for a scout, and he went ahead on foot to scour the countryside. He didn’t mind, he 
actually quite liked it because the woman, Eowyn, was getting on his nerves. She was 
constantly hanging around Aragorn, doing what he could only describe as ‘flirting’. It 
was sickening and made him very jealous. He knew that if Aragorn realised that he was 
being jealous then he would never hear the end of it; the man would tease him for ages 
afterwards.  
 
He was far ahead of the others, and suddenly knew that something was drawing close. He 
could smell them rather than see them. They were too cleverly hidden. He heard a loud 
yell of panic and rushed forward seeing one of the guards slain. Then suddenly the Wargs 
appeared, exploding out from behind a craggy hilltop. He drew his bow automatically, 
firing arrow after arrow and knocking them down. He was very quick but even his speed 
could not kill them faster than they were coming. He felt relieved when he heard the 
pounding of hooves behind him. He saw Aragorn gallop past and then Gimli, who looked 
very insecure. He leaped onto Gimli’s horse with astonishing grace.  
 
Then he was fighting, losing himself in the aggression of battle as he always did, barely 
noticing when Gimli fell off as he used both his bow and his knives to kill as many of the 
beasts as he could. The battle took some time, but eventually all the Wargs and their 
riders were dead or were fleeing. Legolas leapt to the ground, searching for his 
companions. He could see Gimli, struggling to get out from underneath a dead Warg, but 
he could not see Aragorn anywhere. He went over to the edge of a cliff, where he had 
seen Aragorn heading. Gimli followed, and they found nothing except a dying orc, who 
Legolas attacked viciously, demanding to know where his lover was. The orc laughed 
cruelly before dying, telling him that Aragorn was dead, and his hand opened to reveal 
the necklace that Aragorn always wore. It was one that Legolas had given to him when 
they had first fallen in love. Legolas picked it up, and then strode to the edge of the cliff 
where Theoden was already standing.  
 
The cliff looked down on a fast-flowing river, about a hundred feet down. If Aragorn had 
fallen down there then there was little chance of him surviving. Legolas’ mouth dropped 
open disbelievingly. He couldn’t take it in. He couldn’t hear what Theoden said through 
the roaring in his ears, although he got the meaning. He was going to have to leave 
Aragorn and head to Helm’s Deep. Theoden squeezed his shoulder but it gave him no 
comfort. Gimli lead him over to their horse and Legolas got on automatically. He 
couldn’t feel anything; it was as though he had gone completely numb.  
 
He rode to Helm’s Deep with Gimli in front of him. The Dwarf asked him whether he 
was alright a few times but received only murmurs for answers. The elf could not form 
thought, let alone talk to anyone coherently. The rest of the party was very quiet too, so 
many dead that the morale was even lower than it had been.  
 
When they arrived, Eowyn greeted them, and when she heard of Aragorn’s death Gimli 
thought that she might cry. He ignored her. Could she not see that Legolas was dying 
inside? He steered the elf towards a free chamber. It was cramped and cold but at least 
here Legolas had some privacy. He sat Legolas down on the hard bed and stood in front 
of him, forcing him to take a drink of water. He wished the elf would cry, or something. 
Anything but the torturous silence.  
 
Legolas seemed to come back to reality somewhat after taking a drink, and looked around 
in confusion, as though he could not remember getting there. He looked up at Gimli.  
 
“Legolas? Are you alright? Do you need anything?” The dwarf asked kindly.  
 
“No, thank you, Gimli. I think I would be better left alone.” Legolas said, speaking 
slowly and carefully.  
 
“Of course.” Gimli said, thinking that maybe he was just hiding his grief in front of him, 
and would be able to cry perhaps on his own. He left quietly, giving the elf one last 
concerned look before he went to speak to Theoden and inspect the walls.  
 
Back in the room, Legolas had curled up on the bed, his knees hugged to his chest as 
though he was trying to make himself as small as possible. At first the room was silent, 
but soon Legolas whimpered, and then the whimpers grew into huge, unstoppable sobs of 
pure grief. He cried for a long time, until his chest ached and his throat and eyes were 
sore and tired. Then the pain hit him.  
 
It came suddenly. Just as he was beginning to uncurl, he felt a sharp pain in his stomach, 
and he arched at the pain, biting down hard on his lip and drawing blood. It lessened 
eventually, but did not go away completely. He loosened up slightly, unfurling slowly, 
frightened that the pain would come back again. When it didn’t he reached down gingerly 
to feel himself. His fingers came back wet with blood and he gasped, then had to bite 
down on his fist to keep from screaming aloud as another pain ripped through him. He 
rolled onto the floor, landing hard, but barely feeling it. Any other pain he had ever felt 
seemed miniscule compared to this.  
 
It was a long, painful night for Legolas. He huddled in the corner, squashing down his 
cries by biting on a pillow and curling up on the floor, the pain constantly there. There 
was blood, too much of it, and he knew what was happening to him. Tears dripped down 
his face, but he never made a sound.  
 
The pain eventually faded to leave a dull throbbing and he was able to relax a little. He 
knew that he was going to have to clean himself up before dawn, but he didn’t move for a 
long time. He sat and thought about Aragorn, gone now to the Halls of Mandos, and 
realised that both Aragorn and his child had died on the same day. He closed his eyes and 
wondered whether his own death was far away. He could feel his heart breaking already, 
the pain of Aragorn’s loss too much for him to bear. He almost wished for his own death.  
 
***********************************************************************  
 
Gimli went in to see Legolas the next morning. He was surprised to find the elf sleeping, 
lying on the bed in fresh clothes. He shook him gently to wake him, and the elf’s eyes 
slowly unglazed. He looked exhausted still, and Gimli noticed his too-pale face and red 
eyes.  
 
“I brought you something to drink and eat. Are you feeling better?”  
 
“Thank you, Gimli. I’m alright, thanks…it was just such a shock.”  
 
“I understand, lad. It must be hard, losing a lover. Especially one so close to you as 
Aragorn was.” His words brought back the pain again and Legolas sat up, scrubbing at 
his face and forcing himself to pull himself together. He made sure that his face was dry 
before drinking, but refusing anything to eat.  
 
“You should eat something, Legolas.” Gimli advised him.  
 
“I’m sorry…I can’t even begin to think about food right now.” It was true as well, just 
not for the reason that Gimli thought. Hs whole lower body ached from the miscarriage. 
He had managed to keep the blood off most of his clothes, needing to change only his 
leggings. He stood up awkwardly, finishing his drink and handing it back to Gimli. He 
hid a wince as his abused muscles protested. He would heal quickly, but the wave of 
dizziness reminded him that he had also lost quite a lot of blood.  
 
He spent most of the day helping with the wounded and also to fortify the walls. He was 
lost in his own world, he spoke to no-one except Gimli, who came and checked on him 
every half hour or so. He came out of the hall after checking on the food supply when he 
just stopped short of slamming into a familiar, strong, broad chest. He was almost 
frightened to look up, but he did anyway. He couldn’t believe who it was.  
 
Aragorn. It was Aragorn, A very tired, muddy, and bleeding Aragorn but it was still him. 
Looking as gorgeous as ever.  
 
“Le-abdollen.” Legolas whispered. “You look terrible.” Aragorn smiled. He felt Legolas 
press their hands together, and looked down to see the elf pressing the necklace he had 
lost into his filthy, bloodstained hand. He looked up and was startled to see Legolas’ eyes 
full of tears. He looked heart-broken.  
 
“Legolas, what is it? Are you not happy to see me?” Aragorn asked, lifting his good hand 
to cup his face.  
 
“Yes…but I thought you were dead, Aragorn. My heart broke twice yesterday and I 
thought you were gone!” He said, swallowing back the harsh sobs which were 
threatening again.  
 
“Shh, it’s alright, I’m here now. But we must talk later, Legolas. I need to speak with 
Theoden.” Aragorn said, and pressing a brief kiss to Legolas’ lips he went past him and 
strode into the huge hall. Theoden looked up as the doors swung open, and Aragorn 
appeared, pushing them open. He didn’t look like a scruffy ranger anymore but instead a 
strong, battle-hardened King. The change was extraordinary. Legolas had followed him 
in, looking very pale still, Theoden noticed.  
 
Eowyn saw Aragorn enter and ran to him, leaping into his arms and hugging him tightly. 
Legolas’ face hardened, and he suddenly turned and walked out again. Theoden frowned, 
but had no time to think about that and so instead sat down with Aragorn to talk about the 
preparations for battle.  
 
The whole of Helm’s Deep became alive as the plans were put into action. Women and 
young children were sent into the caves, while all the men were kitted out in fighting 
gear. Aragorn knew that they were fighting when they had little hope, but he tried to 
remain positive. He and Gimli and Legolas watched as young boys of not more than ten 
and old men in their eighties were decked in helmets and given swords.  
 
“Most of them have seen too many winters.” Gimli said.  
 
“Or too few.” Legolas added, looking at Aragorn with desperation in his eyes and tone. 
“Look at them. They’re frightened. I can see it in their eyes.” Many of them looked at the 
elf and he turned away and then back again. Aragorn watched his lover with some shock 
at the normally mild-tempered elf’s burst of angry despair. At least he slipped into his 
own language to say more, but the meaning was clear to everyone when he said that they 
were all going to die. Aragorn couldn’t stand seeing Legolas like that. It felt wrong, and 
the look in Legolas’ eyes had been haunting. It was almost as if Legolas was speaking 
directly to him about something else…something was wrong with the elf. He knew that.  
 
Later on, he dressed for battle, pulling on his armour aggressively as he thought about 
Legolas. He was in the same room that Legolas had spent last night. He fastened his belt 
and reached for his sword, only to find it missing from the table. He whirled around and 
found himself facing a sheepish-looking Legolas, who offered him his sword. He must 
have crept in quietly while he was getting ready.  
 
“We have trusted you this far, you have not lead us astray. Forgive me. I was wrong to 
despair.” The elf said. Aragorn took the sword and laid it back down on the table.  
 
“My love, I hate to see you so down. There is something wrong; will you tell me what it 
is?”  
 
“What it is?” Legolas asked. “I thought you were dead, Aragorn. Do you have any idea 
what that did to me? It broke my heart. You are part of me, Aragorn. Part of me died 
when I looked down into the ravine and I don’t think I’ll ever get it back.” He broke into 
gasping sobs halfway through, tears running down his face. He kicked himself mentally 
for breaking down. He had promised he wouldn’t. How much could one elf cry?  
 
Aragorn looked at Legolas in shock. He had seen the elf cry before, many times, but 
these were sobs of pure grief. They broke his heart and he stepped forward nervously to 
take him into his arms. The elf stood stiffly for a moment or two and then collapsed into 
his embrace, and Aragorn stepped back into a chair, holding the elf close and he trembled 
and shook.  
 
“Shh.” He soothed, rubbing Legolas’ back in what he hoped was a comforting way. The 
sobs continued, lessening to just slight tremors through his delicate frame. Aragorn 
started to talk. “I’m so sorry you had to go through that. I don’t know how I would cope 
if I thought you were dead…I’d not know where I was. You know, I was washed 
downstream for ages; I’m not sure how long for. I remember very little of it, just hazy 
memories of waking briefly on the sand. But I do remember what I dreamed. I was 
asleep, I was weak, cold, tired and hungry, and you came to me. And you healed me, 
Legolas. You helped me get up and you were with me the entire time. I don’t know that 
I’d have had the strength to get on the horse’s back if I didn’t know that I was coming 
back to you.”  
 
“Really?” Legolas asked in a husky voice from all the crying he had been doing recently.  
 
“Really.” Aragorn confirmed. “I love you. I would stand by your side no matter what.”  
 
“As would I.” Legolas said, and then leant in for another soft kiss. There was nothing 
sexual; it wasn’t the time or the place. Aragorn was content just to hold his lover.  
 
They were interrupted from their kiss by the door to the small room opening and Gimli 
entering, pulling the chain mail over his head with some difficulty. Aragorn and Legolas 
pulled out of their kiss reluctantly, but Legolas stayed on the ranger’s knee, smiling with 
real humour for the first time since Aragorn’s mistaken death.  
 
The dwarf finally managed to pull it down, but he still looked awkward and constricted. 
He looked up at two of them from underneath his helmet.  
 
“It’s a little tight across the chest.”  
 
Aragorn and Legolas laughed and the dwarf cracked a grin too. He was glad to see 
Legolas smiling. The elf had scared him over the past day or so. He was still pale, but at 
least he was talking now, and Aragorn and he seemed to be reunited again. They looked 
good together, Gimli thought. They seemed to fit one another perfectly. He hoped that 
they both lived through the battle.  
 
***********************************************************************  
 
Aragorn and Legolas went to inspect the walls again at dusk. The men were in position, 
but the morale and mood was already low. They looked to be hopelessly outnumbered 
and even if they were not, the fighters were a motley bunch, half of them children and the 
other half old men. Aragorn looked at Legolas and knew that the elf must be thinking the 
same thing. His face was full of sadness as he looked around.  
 
“Don’t worry. There might still be hope for us.” He whispered into the elf’s ear.  
 
“I know that. It’s just that…if we fail…so many children will die. No-one should ever 
have to lose a child.” He looked just about ready to cry again, and he sniffed, looking 
down at his boots.  
 
“Don’t talk like that, Legolas. I swear that I will try to protect every child’s life in this 
battle. If I can help it, none of the children will die.” He squeezed Legolas’ shoulder 
comfortingly and the elf gave him a wan smile.  
 
They were interrupted from their conversation by a sound that floated through the night 
into the stone fortress. It was the sound of a musical horn, it seemed to Aragorn. The men 
of Rohan shifted, obviously nervous. But Legolas turned to Aragorn, and on his face was 
nothing but delight.  
 
“That is no orc horn!” He cried, and leapt nimbly away from Aragorn to the passage 
below. Aragorn followed the quick elf.  
 
At the bottom, they were met with a troop of well-armoured fighting elves. A familiar 
face led them, and Aragorn smiled widely. Hope was not lost.  
 
“Haldir!” He said, and reached forward to pull the elf into a relieved hug. “I am so glad 
that you have come.” He grinned and then set about organising the elves’ positions. 
Legolas, behind him, went over to see Haldir too. The larger elf placed a hand on 
Legolas’ slim shoulder.  
 
“It’s good to see you here Haldir.” Legolas said.  
 
“And you, Legolas. Although I wish it were in happier times, and that you did not look so 
wan. Is something wrong?”  
 
“No. It is just the worry of the battle.”  
 
“I don’t believe you.” Haldir said, frowning and looking closer at Legolas. “You’ve never 
been nervous before a battle in your life. There is something else bothering you. And as 
soon as this battle has been fought and won I intend to find out what it is. You are too 
beautiful to walk around with such sorrow written on your face." Legolas blushed 
slightly, bringing a little colour back into his cheeks.  
 
They were soon prepared, and standing in their positions, ready for the battle to begin. 
The army was close now, a big black mass on the darkening horizon. There were more of 
them than Legolas could ever have imagined. He was standing on the wall, next to Gimli 
and close to Aragorn, who had instantly stepped into the role of leader. His kingly 
heritage blossoming more and more these days, Legolas noticed, as he checked that 
everything was okay for what seemed like the hundredth time.  
 
“You could have picked a better spot.” Came Gimli’s annoyed voice from his right. The 
dwarf was too small to see over the top of the wall, even standing on his tiptoes. Legolas 
laughed, glad that he had both Gimli and Aragorn to keep him strong when the battle 
began.  
 
Then the skies opened. The rain lashed down, making it even harder for them to see. 
Legolas ignored it but knew that it could mean a disadvantage, although the elves’ aim 
with archery was nearly always impeccable. He suddenly felt warm breath on his neck, 
and turned his head slightly to meet Aragorn’s concerned grey eyes.  
 
“Are you alright to fight?” He asked.  
 
“Yes, Aragorn. I am ready.” Legolas said. Aragorn looked at him once more, as though 
making sure, and then walked on, instructing the fighters to ready their arrows. Legolas 
obeyed, and with the bow in his hands he instantly felt reassured. He had been in battle a 
thousand times before and his bow would not let him down.  
 
“What’s happening?” Gimli asked, unable to see but hearing a thunderous boom as the 
army came closer.  
 
“Would you like me to describe it for you,” Legolas asked, smiling, “or shall I fetch you 
a box?” Gimli laughed too, a deep chuckle that sounded strange in the silent ramparts.  
 
Not a soul moved as the army drew to a halt about sixty feet from the walls. The noise 
was incredible. The Uruk-hai and orcs growled and spat and cursed in their own foul 
languages. Then suddenly, one of the old men let loose an arrow. It hit one of the enemy 
square in the neck, and he fell to the ground with an echoing thump. There was total 
silence for a few moments, and then the enemy charged. The battle had begun.  
 
“The arrows!” Aragorn cried, and a volley of arrows landed in the necks and armpits of 
the foul creatures below. Legolas had told the fighters where to aim beforehand. He was 
immediately lost in the fighting, releasing arrows with deadly accuracy despite the awful 
rain. The orcs soon began to put up ladders, but still he kept firing, taking new arrows 
from slain elves beside him. Gimli waited for them to arrive, killing orcs as they attacked 
from the ladders. Legolas was forced to take out his blades, and swung around gracefully, 
slashing and stabbing smoothly.  
 
“Legolas!” He heard Aragorn cry, and he leapt over to the walls, hearing Aragorn cry out. 
A huge monster was running towards the wall, and he had something glowing at his back. 
Legolas looked on in horror as he realised what was about to happen. “Legolas, bring him 
down!” Aragorn’s voice cut through again, and Legolas fired, three times in quick 
succession. But the orc kept running. Legolas was thrown back as there was a huge 
explosion, blowing the part of the wall where Aragorn had been standing to smithereens. 
He looked on in horror. He couldn’t see Aragorn anywhere. Had he got him back just to 
lose him again? He forced himself not to think like that and instead concentrated on the 
fight, resuming the frenzied attack on his enemies.  
 
Aragorn, meanwhile, was stunned but mostly unhurt, down at the bottom with Gimli 
fighting orcs and goblins desperately. However, he had seen Haldir fall, and the elf was 
still at the top of the walls. Aragorn had no time to dwell on it but he felt great sadness 
for the loss of such a good friend. Legolas would be devastated. He was better with face-
to-face combat than with a bow, but the creatures were extremely strong and there were 
so many for them that it was soon looking to be an impossible attack.  
 
He heard a voice telling him to fall back and obeyed it, commanding the elven warriors to 
do the same. They retreated into the castle and Gimli came with him up to the front gates, 
which was being battered repeatedly. He went over to Theoden.  
 
“How much time do you need?”  
 
“As much as you can give us.” The king told him. Aragorn looked around wildly and 
spotted a door. A plan quickly grew in his mind. He grabbed Gimli and dragged the 
dwarf with him, slipping out of the door and creeping around until they were at the front 
of the fortress. There was a fair leap to the gate road but Aragorn thought that he could 
make it. Gimli however did not.  
 
“You’ll have to toss me.” He said gruffly.  
 
“What?” Aragorn asked incredulously.  
 
“You’ll have to toss me. I can’t make the gap.” Aragorn nodded, and the dwarf passed in 
front of him, ready to be thrown. He stopped suddenly and looked at Aragorn. “Don’t tell 
the elf.” Despite of the situation, Aragorn smiled. The he picked Gimli up and heaved 
him into the fray, before charging after them.  
 
Legolas was still up on the walls, caught in the middle of a huge fight, with hardly 
anyone else around to help him. There were very few elves left standing, and even fewer 
men. He fought automatically, but he was beginning to tire. The blood loss from the 
previous night was affecting him, he realised. He was already stiff and sore, and he feared 
that he would not be able to hold out much longer. And he still could not find Aragorn.  
 
He heard shouts and cries from below and ran over to the wall. More ladders were being 
raised, huge ladders with the slimy, black-clad enemy hanging on and shrieking evilly. 
Then he saw Aragorn and Gimli, fighting on the gate road, and he searched quickly for a 
rope to throw down to them.  
 
“Aragorn!” He cried, shooting at a rope and felling one of the ladders, and it landed with 
a huge thud, killing many others too. Then he concentrated on pulling them up. He was 
lucky that others helped him, as it was still as struggle for him to pull with their help. The 
man and the dwarf were perhaps three times his own weight when put together and he felt 
too exhausted to pull them up properly. He pulled them both over the wall and relished 
the feel of Aragorn, alive and in one piece, more or less.  
 
“We must retreat!” His lover commanded, and then they were running again. The orcs 
were inside the fortress now, and they fled into the halls to meet with Theoden. There 
were pitifully few fighters left. Legolas set about blocking the door while Aragorn spoke 
to Theoden. It wasn’t working very well. The enemy kept battering the door and there 
was no way it could hold for much longer. He turned to see where Aragorn was, looking 
at him hopelessly. He felt so weak now, not enough blood pumping through him to keep 
him fighting as well as he should.  
 
“Ride out with me.” He heard Aragorn say. He was looking out of the window, seeing the 
light begin to appear. Legolas couldn’t believe that they had been fighting all night. It 
sounded like a suicide attempt, but the conviction in his lover’s eyes convinced Legolas 
to go along with the plan. He leapt up onto a horse, and Gimli went to blow the huge 
horn. Then they charged. Aragorn and Theoden led the way, and they rode through the 
fortress, slaying countless numbers as they galloped down to the gate road.  
 
It actually seemed to be working, as they rode through the orcs and goblins, but they were 
still outnumbered. Then a white light burst out from behind the hill, and Gandalf 
appeared on Shadowfax. Behind him were the Rohirrim. Legolas joined in the cheering, 
knowing that they were saved. The Rohirrim came charging down, leaping into the fray. 
Legolas leapt off his horse to fight better, going up onto the walls to help clear them 
completely. They were quite clear save a few orcs, and the masses of dead piled up 
around them. But he knew that he was beginning to fade. He had fought to the limits of 
his strength and past them. The blood loss was beginning to take over, and the world 
began to spin nauseatingly around him. He was vaguely aware of an orc running towards 
him. It hit him on his side with it’s scimitar, and he dropped to his knees. He barely knew 
what was happening but somehow he managed to thrust one last time, stabbing the orc 
and retrieving his blade from it’s chest.  
 
He couldn’t see properly, and tried to get up but couldn’t. His legs wouldn’t support him. 
He collapsed to the ground, his side on fire and his abdomen protesting. He opened his 
eyes and found himself lying next to Haldir and he felt weakly for the elf’s hand. He still 
had a pulse, but it was weak and thready. He tried to rise again but couldn’t, his own 
injuries finally taking over, and darkness claimed him.  
 
Meanwhile, the battle had been won. The last of the enemy were fleeing, the Rohirrim 
had come and literally slaughtered them. Aragorn stood with Gandalf, Eomer and 
Theoden. Gimli came out of the fortress to come and stand with them.  
 
“Where is Legolas?” he asked. Aragorn looked around wildly, panic rising in his throat.  
 
“I don’t know…I saw him set off for the walls.” He immediately began running over 
there, Gandalf and Gimli close on his trail. The clearing up of the dead and wounded had 
already begun, and the women had been brought out of the deep caves in order to help 
with the horrible job.  
 
Aragorn ran up, searching frantically. At last he found him, lying next to Haldir, their 
hands linked. He checked Legolas first, and felt almost faint with relief when he found a 
faint pulse. Haldir was alive too, against all odds, the wound in his back seeping blood.  
 
Gimli and Gandalf caught up with him, and Aragorn lifted the elf up gently, tears 
escaping his eyes as he cradled him against his chest.  
 
“Is he-” Gimli started.  
 
“No. Just hurt, I think, although I cannot see where.” Aragorn said.  
 
“Take them to the rooms. I will tend to them here.” Gandalf commanded, taking charge 
when it became apparent that Aragorn no longer could, too worried for Legolas to think 
straight.  
 
The ranger obeyed, going as quickly as he could and laying him down on the bed. Gimli 
brought Haldir up, and he was taken to a different room. Eowyn followed, her skills in 
healing useful.  
 
Aragorn stood back from the bed, letting Gandalf check the elf over as he looked on 
anxiously, as did Gimli.  
 
“He has some cracked ribs…they will heal quickly enough…he’s a little 
dehydrated…appears to be suffering from blood loss…although there is no open 
wound…” He gave a little gasp as he realised what must have happened. “Aragorn, 
Gimli. You should leave. I need to check him over thoroughly.”  
 
“I will not leave his side!” Aragorn objected passionately.  
 
“Aragorn, I know that you love him, but the best thing for you to do now is to leave me 
alone with him. His life is not in danger, do not fear, but he is in need of further 
examination. Leave, and come back with food, and drink, and extra blankets.”  
 
Aragorn looked as though he might protest again, but Gandalf glared at him and he 
allowed himself to be led away by Gimli.  
 
As soon as the door was shut again, Gandalf set about helping Legolas with the pain he 
was suffering. The elf soon began to wake up, groaning as he came back to 
consciousness. He struggled to sit up, still dazed and confused.  
 
“Don’t try to sit, Legolas. You are too weak.” Gandalf soothed him, helping him lie back 
down. “You have some cracked ri-”  
 
“Haldir…he was beside me…” Legolas said.  
 
“Haldir will recover. The wound was bad but it did not bleed too much. He will live, 
although he will be very sore. You on the other hand, have lost far too much blood.” 
Legolas looked down, not wanting to meet Gandalf’s eyes. “You have lost blood, 
Legolas, but I find no wound upon you.” Legolas did not speak. He couldn’t speak. “You 
miscarried, didn’t you?” The answer this time was a nod and a muffled sob. “Shh. It’s 
alright.” Gandalf said, rubbing Legolas’ shoulder soothingly. “I’m so sorry Legolas. It’s a 
terrible thing to happen to anyone.”  
 
“Aragorn still doesn’t know.” Legolas said.  
 
“What? Oh Legolas, you have to tell him. It will make you both feel much better. How 
can you have a relationship with him if you keep secrets from him?”  
 
“I know that…I’ll tell him today.” Legolas said, the set of his jaw determined as he made 
up his mind.  
 
“Good.” Gandalf said. He took some strange pellets out of one of his pockets and gave 
them to Legolas. “Here. These will take the rest of the pain away. You will heal quickly 
in body. Although emotionally, you will need to tell Aragorn in order to heal.”  
 
“I know that now. I just don’t want to drive him away.” Legolas said, obeyed Gandalf 
and swallowing the pellets. “Urgh. What were those things?”  
 
“It’s best you don’t know, I think.” Gandalf said, and Legolas raised an eyebrow. “And 
you won’t drive him away. He’s in love with you.” The door clicked open suddenly and 
Aragorn entered with the provisions. “Speak of the devil.” Gandalf said quietly.  
 
“Thank the Valar you’re awake.” Aragorn said, going over to Legolas and dropping a 
kiss on his head, setting the tray down and immediately beginning to fuss, wrapping the 
elf in an extra blanket and helping him take a drink. Gandalf left quietly, giving Legolas 
an encouraging look before exiting the room.  
 
“Aragorn?” Legolas asked, his voice a little higher than usual with nervousness. “Will 
you come and lie down with me? I want to talk to you.”  
 
“Of course, but shouldn’t you save your strength?” Aragorn asked, lying on the bed with 
him so that they were facing one another. He planted a kiss on Legolas’ nose and smiled. 
The elf looked very nervous. “Legolas, what is it? You’re scaring me.”  
 
“It’s just so hard to say…oh Aragorn, I’m so sorry I didn’t tell you sooner. Then this 
never would have happened and I wouldn’t have had the miscarriage and…” He trailed 
off, and Aragorn looked at him with a stunned expression on his face.  
 
“Miscarriage?” he asked eventually.  
 
“Yes…I was pregnant with our child. I couldn’t tell you because I was frightened that 
you would send me away.” Aragorn was dumbfounded and unable to speak and Legolas 
took the opportunity to talk. “I didn’t believe it myself at first…Galadriel told me and I 
thought that it was impossible. But the spell was cast on me as soon as I was of age. We 
didn’t think it had worked, but then it must have, with you. I wasn’t sure myself until I 
fainted that time in Edoras, and Gandalf confirmed it. I wanted to tell you… I was so 
happy but I wasn’t sure whether you would be. A stupid time to get pregnant…but I 
loved carrying your baby, Aragorn. It made me feel whole. And then you got thrown over 
that cliff…I thought you were dead. My heart broke. I couldn’t believe that you were 
gone, that I was never going to see you again. I don’t even remember the rest of the 
journey to here…Gimli was worried, and that was all I knew. That night…it happened. I 
think it was the stress and trauma…I miscarried. It was horrible. I lost the baby. And 
maybe I’m just making excuses, saying I was so upset. I hadn’t been eating properly…I 
think I killed our child, Aragorn…I killed our baby.” He was crying by this point, his 
breath coming in hitching gasps. “Please don’t hate me for this, Aragorn…please…” He 
broke down completely, sobs wracking his delicate frame.  
 
He felt the bed shift and was sure that Aragorn was going to leave him forever. His sobs 
intensified, but instead of leaving, the ranger enveloped Legolas in a warm hug, holding 
him close, quietening him and pressing kisses to the top of his head until the sobs began 
to become less.  
 
“I could never hate you, Legolas. You are my soul mate, the one person I love more than 
anything else in the entire world. I wish that you had told me…I wish that I could give 
you more reason to trust me. I’m so sorry that you had to go through this alone. But 
never, ever blame yourself for the miscarriage, Legolas. That is nobody’s fault, least of 
all yours.”  
 
“You still love me?” Legolas asked in a shaky voice, slightly muffled by Aragorn’s chest.  
 
“More than anything else. Ever.”  
 
“I love you too.” Legolas said, and then they hugged again, locked in a tight embrace that 
lasted for hours.  
 
When they finally managed to get up, knowing that they would have to go and see the 
others, who were probably crazy with worry, Aragorn stood next to Legolas, supporting 
him when he swayed lightly on his feet. He stood in front of the elf and gently cupped his 
face with his large hands.  
 
“When this war is ended, and Middle-Earth is free from Sauron’s terror, I want to spend 
the rest of my life with you, Legolas.”  
 
“As do I.” The elf agreed.  
 
“And…maybe then…we can try for another child, in happier times.” He suggested.  
 
“Nothing would make me happier.” Legolas said honestly. Aragorn smiled and took his 
hand. They stepped out to see the others, and to face whatever Sauron had to throw at 
them next. Together.