* * * * * * * * * * *

Elrond had called an emergency council.

As the representative of the elves of Mirkwood, Legolas Greenleaf strode into the open room with confidence. His entourage behind him fell to muttering as their eyes noted the collection of races gathered. It seemed that every major race in Middle Earth had attended. Legolas, himself, looked around. More of his elven kin, some dwarves, and a few humans. His dark blue eyes stopped on the human that was seated at the far end.

*No. It couldn't be...*

The face was the same, well, save for the fact that there was more of a beard. The dark hair was much shorter than it had been back then. But the tell-tale sign was the eyes. Those intense azure eyes were the dead giveaway. That was Strider.

The ranger was deep in his own thoughts. The elves approached, bringing with them the memory of Legolas. Would his former lover be here? His heart both hoped and ached at the thought. To see him again... but it had been eight years; eight long years with no word. If it hadn't been for his informants assuring him that the elf was alive and well, Strider would have despaired for him. Yet what could have kept him away for so long, with no contact? The ranger dragged his attention back to the present; with a shock, he saw the elf's unmistakable long flaxen hair.

Over those years, Legolas had done some in-depth delving into the identity of his human lover. Strider was not simply a ranger. He was also a king - the true king of Gondor to be exact. Sitting next to his former lover was the son of the Regent of Gondor, Boromir. If the shaken man had any clue as to the real name of the man beside him, he gave no outward signs. Legolas moved his gaze back to the haggard face of the ranger, noting that he'd also been recognized. Not hard; elves could live a thousand years and not look like they'd aged a day.

Strider tried not to stare, but his eyes couldn't help from appreciating the beauty before him. He had never met another as fair, in all his life, as the blond archer. His body reacted to the ageless elf; he knew how old the beauty was, but it had never bothered him. His mind automatically replayed their nights together, making his heart and body ache.

Thankful for the robes he was wearing, Legolas took his seat near the human wizard Gandalf. On the opposite side of the wizened old man was a hobbit from the Shire. The young prince spared them a nod and returned his eyes back to the one who had been too long away from his sight. Even with the changes, Strider still looked much like the young man he'd been back then. Though he wore fine clothes, he was obviously exhausted. Long fingers ached to stroke away the tension on his face. Legolas was again smitten with whatever it was that had caused him to fall in love with the human in the first place.

Trying to force his attention back to the critical meeting, Strider listened with half an ear to Boromir ranting about something. He tried to take in all the various representatives , but his eyes were inexorably drawn back to the fair archer. He held himself comfortably yet regally; he had grown more accustomed to his role as prince. His father had obviously been at work on him. His hands itched to bury themselves in that silken fall of hair, to feel that lithe body against his once again.

Boromir's words did much to stoke the ire of said prince. He rose to his feet, furious that Strider's suggestion had been dismissed so easily and angry that the man was not taken seriously. Legolas' twilight gaze bored into the Regent's son, "You owe this man your loyalty! He is Aragorn, son of Arathorn..." His revealing of his former lover's identity had done no good. Boromir continued to rant. The archer could see that he was obsessing over the ring. That would not do. He was going to say more, but Strider's calm voice spoke directly to him in Elvish, sending his heart into little flutters, "Sit down, Legolas."

Strider gazed across the room at Legolas, making eye contact for the first time. A thrill ran through him, and he knew they had to talk.

The fellowship was forged; for better or worse, they were now a team. He stood, giving his allegiance to the ring bearer. His eyes once again met with the elf's. He wondered where their paths would lead them now.

Without waiting for even a heartbeat to pass, Legolas had placed his hand atop Aragorn's. His vow was not only for the Ringbearer, but to remind his lost lover that he remembered. He had some worry when Boromir also pledged his honor, but that was slowly fading into the background as intense eyes locked on him and didn't seem to want to let go. They needed to speak... and soon.

The meeting broke up and there was much to prepare. Legolas was whisked away by his entourage. Strider looked wistfully after him. He had to get the elf alone.

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Elrond's daughter.

Legolas couldn't remember clearly, but he thought her name was Arwen. Really, he couldn't be certain with the tears that had started stinging his eyes. He could see them both, out on the bridge in front of one of the many waterfalls that graced Rivendell. Strider - *his* Strider - was holding her. Kissing her. Giving her looks that he'd gotten so many years ago. Legolas couldn't stand this. His heart was breaking. Little pieces slaking off as each touch progressed. Chunks shifting as she passed something to the ranger. And then shattered altogether when Aragorn leaned in to kiss her.

With a cry of dismay, the young prince of Mirkwood turned away from the sight and darted off to his chambers.

Strider made his way back to the house. His heart was unsettled. He had thought to tell Arwen the truth tonight, that his heart truly belonged to another, but she hadn't listened. She was pledging herself to him, offering to become mortal for him. He couldn't bring himself to break her heart so completely; there would be time enough if he survived his quest. A small, rebellious part of his mind reminded him that though he and Legolas has shared every part of their hearts and bodies, the elf prince had never offered him his mortality.

As the ranger moved nearer to his door, another opened further down the hall. Legolas stepped into the hall, his face hidden by his now unbound hair. Without even looking around, the golden prince turned and started in the opposite direction. His boots made no sound on the stone floor. Even from where he was standing, Strider could hear the torn voice as his former lover whispered something to himself. Apparently, he'd not even noticed the human - something that was very unlike him.

A chilling thought struck the ranger. Had the elf seen his meeting with Arwen? God knew what Legolas was thinking... But the elf hadn't bothered to contact him either. No word, for eight years... What was he to think? He decided to go after Legolas. They had to be together on this quest; they needed to talk. He slipped out of his room, following the blond silently.

Not-so-sure steps took the prince to the stable, where he ducked into the stall that housed his own steed. Legolas took up the coat brush and started sweeping it over the white coat of the stallion. Caring for his mounts always made him feel better. He hoped that it would work now as it had in past years. "I know it's late, Rowan," he whispered to the horse softly, "But forgive me if I need your quiet presence." His other hand followed the brush, "At least I can trust that you still need me."The ranger's heart started to break at those words and he could remain silent no longer. "I needed you, Legolas. But you vanished."

Those slender hands froze. Legolas bowed his head and pressed it into the horse's neck, "I tried to come back, Strider. My father forbade it." Fresh tears fell from his eyes, soaking into the fur below, "Someone told him about us..."

Taking a step forward, the ranger could barely restrain himself from laying his hand upon the elf's trembling shoulder. But Legolas was his no longer, if he ever had been. "You are no child, Legolas. Do you not have free will?"

"I am the same as you," the prince whispered, "But, I can not run from my duties. I am heir to Mirkwood and my father... he..." Legolas turned away completely and dropped the brush, "The last five years have been wasted as he parades eligible women before me, hoping I'll find one that I deem worthy of marriage!" The elf's slender arms wrapped around his chest tightly and his breath became ragged, "Every time I tried to leave, he'd send a contingent of his warriors to drag me back..."

Strider tried to listen dispassionately, but his heart ached from the obvious distress his former lover was in. He ached to comfort Legolas, but he didn't know if the elf would let him close again, or truly, if he could bear it. Part of him was broken, always would be. The part of his heart that still belonged to the creature before him.

Minutes passed, and Legolas said nothing. His heart finished breaking in those precious seconds. More time wasted when words of healing could have been spoken. He turned to Aragorn, his hair falling around his face and eyes like jewels with the remnants of old tears plus the beginning of fresh ones, "Know this, Aragorn, son of Arathorn, King of Gondor... I will cherish what we had. But nothing - nothing - will fix what has been wrought over the last eight years." With those words, the archer ducked past the ranger, too quick to catch, and ran from the stable without a backward glance.

The ranger watched Legolas go, torn. He still had an eight year long streak of hurt and resentment... but seeing the elf again had reminded him how much he still loved Legolas. If he didn't love him, it wouldn't have hurt so much... He would find a way to make it right. He had to. He knew now that he couldn't live without Legolas.

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The fire crackled, but Legolas stared into it unseeing. It had been a week since they'd begun their quest and he'd not spoken a word to Strider that wasn't absolutely necessary. The honey-haired prince had kept to himself, seeking the counsel of no one. His hands pulled his blanket up around his shoulders. Normally, the cool chill to the air wouldn't bother him. Normally, he would have had thoughts of Strider and the time they shared to comfort him. Now, it was all poisoned and sour, like a fine wine aged too long.

Again, tears stung his eyes. Not an uncommon occurrence during the last week. Legolas stifled his sobs, unwilling to wake the others, especially Aragorn. The elf wouldn't let on that he was still hurting. "Are human hearts really so fickle," he quietly asked the silence of darkness, his voice instinctively slipping into the Elvish tongue.

"I once thought the same of a certain Elvish heart," replied Strider, also in Legolas' language, from only a few feet away. The ranger settled beside the elf, staring into the fire rather than at Legolas.

Legolas turned away from him, cursing himself for not hearing the ranger's approach. He hunched down in the blanket around his shoulders and went silent, drying his eyes on the corner of the material. That was twice that the human had managed to get close without alerting him. That wouldn't do at all.

"We need to talk, Legolas." The ranger whispered. "Will you walk with me?"

"What is there to talk about? It is over and done. Elrond's daughter is bonded to you," Legolas whispered, the normally sweet voice pained, "After the Ringbearer completes his quest, I will return to Mirkwood..." He choked for a moment, "To marry someone of my father's choosing..."

Strider could stand it no longer. He reached out to grasp the elf's arm. "You misunderstand. I would not accept Arwen's binding. You must believe me. My heart has always been yours, whether you want it or not."

The long awaited touch of the one he loved drew a moan from the elf prince. He wanted so badly to deny the words and pull away. Strider had said nothing in all the time he could have spoken and Legolas couldn't bring himself to hope that the words rang true. He kept his face away, not certain of whether or not he should speak, but the rashness within often did it for him at times like these. "I loved you the entire time we were apart," his voice carried low enough to not disturb the others.

"We have made many mistakes, Legolas," murmured the ranger, pulling the blond closer. "Let us start to put it right."

Legolas broke down, his body turning towards the human and letting loose all the heartbreak he was feeling inside. "Strider..." His voice was sob choked and steadily increasing in volume. In but a few more minutes, the archer would definitely wake the rest of the fellowship if something wasn't done quickly.

"Legolas, come with me," Strider insisted, pulling the elf with him into the woods. He needed to feel him, if only once more.

There were no words of resistance this time, the elf too weak with emotion to be defiant. Legolas stumbled more than once, his eyes too blurred to see in the darkness around them. When the pair had gotten far enough, his hands went to Aragorn's shoulders and held on tight, "I... tried to... come back... to you..."

"Legolas," whispered Strider. He had no more resentment left, only wanting to comfort the elf. "We are here now. What happened before matters not." He pulled the longhaired elf close against him.

"Yes it does!" The elf cried out, his hands clenching into fists, "Tiny little details could have made all the difference... Years were wasted because my father didn't want to understand." Legolas buried his face into the ranger's chest, "Years that I could have spent with you..."

"You have many years left, Legolas. You always had my heart." The ranger pulled the elf closer, to calm him.

"For my life, yes," he agreed softly, "But... not the same when it comes to you. Time will take you away from me, Strider. I didn't want to lose a single heartbeat of it." Legolas' arms went around the human's neck, just under the shortened hair, "Years meant for us went to *her* instead." The bitterness in his voice ran deep.

"I made mistakes, Legolas. Mistakes born of loneliness." The man paused, choosing his words carefully. "Now perhaps we can appreciate what we almost lost forever."

"Hold me," the archer's voice implored, "Show me that this is real and not some sweet fantasy of dreams."

Strider's heart swelled as he heard the words he had so missed. "Anything, Legolas. I would do anything for you." He crushed the elf to him, pouring his heart and soul into the embrace.

The elf basked in it, tightening his arms and hugging back. He tilted his head and moved his mouth closer to the ranger's ear. Legolas had been waiting for this moment of reunion and he wasn't going to let it go easily. "Aragorn," he whispered, using the human's birth name softly, "Make love to me... please..."

The elf using his real name did something to him, as did the slim body in his arms, so well remembered. The hot breath on his ear.... he couldn't stand it. He bent down and sealed his mouth over the elf's, tasting his long lost love.

Once their lips connected, Legolas moved one hand to the back of the ranger's head, holding them steady. He'd been denied this by his father and he'd be damned if he was going to let the Elven king take it away again. His other hand was busy unlacing the hunter green tunic so that Strider would be able to touch him much more easily, "Mmmmmm..."

The intensity of his feelings stunned him; Aragorn kissed back desperately. A frantic need to be one with Legolas filled him. He pulled back, panting, pulling at his own clothes. "What are you doing to me?"

Legolas was mirroring his actions, "I would ask the same of you." His own need was powerful, causing his hands to shake every time he tried to use them. The elf tugged off his shirt and looked at his love, "You're still beautiful..."

"Not as beautiful as you," breathed the ranger, feasting his eyes on what had been denied him. "I want you in every way..."

A smile formed on the soft lips, the first in some time, "I don't see anything stopping you..."

That was all it took. Aragorn couldn't have stopped if he had wanted to. He ran his hands over every inch of the elf, remembering. He kissed him, on the mouth, the neck... He drank him in.

Legolas didn't need any prompting either. His fingers danced all across the human's skin, remembering how it felt. He used them to weave his own magic over the ranger, letting them attack all those places that made Strider's blood burn hotter than fire, "Don't let me go..."

"Never again, Legolas, never again," moaned the ranger, sliding his hands down to grip the elf's firm ass.

Sighing at how those hands felt, Legolas moved his mouth to the side of his lover's neck and licked a path to his ear. While Strider's ears weren't as sensitive as his own, he still got some nice sounds out of him in the past. It was time to deal a reminder about all he knew of the human's body that no one else did. "I've missed this, Aragorn," Legolas purred, "How you touch me... make me burn for you... drive everything else out of my mind..."

"Let me remind you then," the man replied, pulling the elf against him, rubbing his arousal against him.

Legolas gasped and happily rolled his hips, pressing their lower bodies together for just a second. He remembered how the teasing caresses frustrated his lover and he wanted to be on the receiving end of the 'punishment' again. His teeth gently attacked the lobe of Strider's ear, gnawing it carefully, "I'll do the same..."

Aragorn growled, pushing Legolas up against a tree and grinding their lower bodies together. "Remember this?" he panted, rocking his hips slowly against the elf's hardness.

"Yes," Legolas moaned softly and started to pant himself. His hands moved lower, fumbling with the belt, until it fell free, "I do remember that... thank you for reminding me." The archer let one hand slip into the waist of the leather pants and tickle at the tip of his lover's arousal, "How about... this?"

"Gods..." groaned Aragorn. "Stop, or we'll finish too soon. It's been a long time... and I have to relearn my control where you are concerned, my beauty."

With a pout, Legolas pulled his hand free. The sulking deception was betrayed by his eyes, however, as they glittered in the moonlight. The archer lifted his fingers to his lips and lapped the sweet flavor of his lover's desire from them, "You still taste wonderful, Aragorn..."

The ranger groaned low in his throat as he watched the elf taste his desire. So long, so much time, so much he wanted... his needs were a jumble, so he settled for crushing the archer to him urgently. He knew well how much the elf liked rough play. "No teasing," he commanded, then crushed his mouth to Legolas'.

Unlike his lover, the archer knew what his needs were. He needed Strider. He needed what the ranger would and could do to him. He needed the rough hands caressing him, stroking him, making his blood burn like nothing else ever could. When the kiss broke, Legolas' looked into the sapphire gaze of his love, "But, I love teasing you, Strider." His slender hands ran across the muscular chest and he carefully rolled the man's nipples between his long fingers, "You like it, too, I think."

Aragorn caught the elf's deceptively slim hands in his own. "You drive me mad, Legolas, but I wouldn't have it any other way." With that, the human pushed the fair haired elf back up against the tree, grinding against him and letting him feel exactly how much he needed him.

A gasp burst from Legolas and he responded in kind, "Let me taste you..." His plea was followed by his hands sliding down to the ranger's narrow waist, the fingers hooking into his belt, tugging at it, "Let me be with you completely tonight, Aragorn." Again, the human's name was spoken huskily, dreamily from those slightly bruised lips.

"Everything, Legolas, you shall have everything you desire, all I can give you," whispered the ranger, scarcely daring to believe his good fortune, to once again touch and hold the elven beauty. He allowed Legolas to unfasten his pants, his eyes fluttering shut at the sensation of the elf's hand sliding inside. He took a handful of the golden silky hair, running it through his fingers. "So perfect..."

The elf turned and leaned his lover against the tree before kneeling down and pulling the leathers off Strider's hips. Before his eyes was the focus of the ranger's need and he wrapped his slim fingers around it, tugging at it slowly to draw another drop of desire to the tip, then looked up at Strider's face as he leaned in and let his tongue play over the head of the cock. The flavor was everything he'd remembered and more. Legolas moaned and did it again, more firmly, before letting his mouth accept the length and started to suckle it.

Legs threatening to buckle, Aragorn concentrated on staying upright and not climaxing immediately from the elf's touch. He wanted to enjoy this, and he loved to watch that mouth wrap around his arousal. He buried a hand in the blond's hair and groaned, "So good, Legolas..."

The elf's hand encircled the base of the arousal and moved up towards his mouth every time he descended down the hot shaft. He was bobbing his head, stroking, tasting, feeling everything that his act was doing to his lover through the quivering of the muscles in Strider's legs. His mischievous gaze flicked up, to the ranger's face, the eyes glittering still more in the moonlight, and Legolas smiled inwardly at the look of rapture he found.

As much as he wanted to give himself over to the elf's talented mouth, Aragorn had other plans for his release. It took all his willpower, but he finally gasped, "Stop."

With a whimper, the suction released and Legolas looked up at his love, "But..." He licked his lips with a feline grace as he rose to his feet, "I wanted..."

"You shall have all that you desire, for we have much time to make up for, my beauty," murmured the ranger. "But I wish to be deep inside you, one with you, now."

It was finally sinking in. Legolas couldn't help the glimmerings of tears in his eyes. Strider, no, Aragorn, wanted him still and wanted to make love to him, share it with him, prove it to him. The elf reached out and ran his hands through the shaggy dark locks of hair, feeling them wisp between his sensitive fingers, "I want that too, Aragorn. I need you... now."

Aragorn shrugged off his cloak and laid it on the ground, indicating Legolas should lie down. He settled beside him, running a finger down one chiseled cheekbone. "I've missed you so...."

The tunic and white shirt that the elf was wearing went up over his head, "I've missed you, too, my love." Legolas rolled the fabric, set it behind his head as a pillow, and then pressed his lips to the hollow at the base of the ranger's throat. His fingers slipped under the shirt his lover wore, "Aragorn... I want you... to take me... soon." Each pause was filled with the archer's tongue brushing over a patch of skin to the side of his love's neck.

"I do not believe I could hold back if you wanted me to, Legolas." The ranger went to work on the elf's pants, getting them off as quickly as possible. He needed to look upon his lover.

Lifting his hips, Legolas aided his lover as best he could until the clothing was free of him. His dark azure eyes rose to the ranger's face, watching the play of emotions as he felt his lover's gaze wash over him. A smirk on his lips, Legolas let his hand sweep down his own body, stopping to brush over his cock, teasing at it right in Strider's view, "Do I look the same or have I changed so much?"

The ranger was busy drinking in the sight before him. Legolas was the epitome of beauty, elven or human. He was perfection incarnate, smooth unmarred skin sliding over lithe muscles, faint golden hair surrounding a glistening arousal. "There are no words," intoned Aragorn.

Legolas could barely contain his excitement. His fingers brushed lightly over the tip of his swollen arousal, trailing through the liquid desire, and a moan escaped from his parted lips. Just having those eyes on him again was almost enough to make him climax right then. The archer let his free hand run up his chest to tease at one flat nipple, causing it to harden, "Aragorn... touch me again... please."

The ranger needed no encouragement. Stripping off the rest of his clothes, he quickly lay down on top of the elf, pressing as much of his body as possible against Legolas. Moaning at the feeling, Aragorn slowly rocked his hips back and forth. Then he adjusted his position, moving his legs between the elf's and spreading his legs apart with his own.

One of Legolas' hands went into the dark hair while the other slid down to the small of the ranger's back. The elf brought their lips together, caressing and tasting, trying to put all his pent up emotions in that gesture. The feel of Aragorn's bare skin next to his was something he'd spent the last eight years remembering all too well in his dreams. When his legs were parted, the archer moved them over the ranger's thighs and tilted his hips so that his lover would have easier access, "I'm yours... forever."

Those words drove the ranger's passion even higher; though he would have liked to dally, tasting the elf, savoring, he could not hold back. He reached for Legolas' pack, saying, "Please tell me you have some oil, my love..."

A soft chuckle, "Of course... Do you remember where I keep it?" Legolas' hands traced up each side of the ranger's ribs, relishing the feel of the smooth skin under his fingers.

"All too well," answered Aragorn, his fingers finding the small vial and opening it quickly. He got some on his fingers and moved his hand down to the elf's entrance, nearly trembling with need.

The archer's teeth worried a small patch of skin on Aragorn's shoulder, "Please... hurry..." Legolas couldn't stop his body from pressing down on those fingers, trying to get them inside of him, as deep as possible, "I don't want to wait any longer..."

"Patience, my beauty," groaned Aragorn. He wanted nothing more than to be deep inside the elf's perfect body, but he made himself wait. Finally, preparation done, he smoothed more oil on his aching erection and positioned himself. "Tell me what you want, Legolas..."

"I want you... inside of me... Take me, Strider..." Legolas' voice was soft, nearly a whimper. It was so close yet so far. Near enough to feel the heat, but not nearly enough to satisfy him. "Stop talking and take me..."

The ranger growled and slid inside the elf without another word. It was even better than his fevered memories, this feeling of taking, of sliding into heated flesh. "Oh, Legolas..." He couldn't stop, entering as slowly as he could manage, but never stopping.

The hand in his hair clenched and the elf arched up into his chest, moaning, unable to say anything at the moment. The tightness of entry caressed all along the length of Aragorn's cock. The ring scraped along each ridge, spasming around the girth, coaxing the length as deep as possible.

"You're perfect," groaned the ranger as he paused, buried entirely. He closed his eyes; Legolas was too beautiful, this felt too good, it had to be a dream. Then he felt the elf move, felt the vibrations up and down his length, and thrust involuntarily. The feeling multiplied a thousandfold, and he couldn't stop.

"AH!" Legolas responded to the strokes that sent little jumps through his pulse. He buried his face at the side of his lover's neck, lapping at the skin, begging for more with heated whispers. "Harder... faster..." The elf's soft voice sounded as loud as a clap of thunder over the noise of their love-making.

Aragorn could have refused Legolas nothing; he thrust harder, still a bit reluctant to hurt the elf, unsure of what he wanted after all this time. But need soon won out, and he was driving in harder, faster, deeper, and nearly chanting his lover's name.

Long fingers raked down the ranger's back as Legolas began to writhe beneath him. It all felt too good, too surreal, too much. Too much. Somehow, he knew that his human lover was starting to ride close to the completion that they both sought. His eyes fixed on Aragorn's gaze, "Touch me..."

"Anything," sighed Aragorn, and slid a hand between them, seeking out the elf's dripping length. As soon as he began to stroke, he could feel the beauty's body tighten even more around him. "Good?" he panted, nearing the edge.

"Yes," gasped the archer. Legolas rocked his hips, trying to go between hand and sweet invasion. He was so close. Aragorn's touch had done this; made him a creature of need and desire and lust and love. The elf gave himself over to the sensations that raged through him and went over the edge, crying his lover's name, "Aragorn!"

"Gods, Legolas!" the ranger cried out. As soon as he felt his lover start to climax, he let himself follow, thrusting hard and filling the elf with hot jets of fluid even as he felt Legolas coat his hand. Dizzying, spiraling pleasure nearly consumed his consciousness.

When the sparks faded from behind his eyes and his vision was again clear, Legolas wrapped his arms around his lover. He pulled him tight against his chest, holding on just in case this had all been a sweet dream. He wanted at least a few more moments of happiness. Finally, he gained the courage to speak, "Aragorn?"

The ranger raised his head from where it rested on the elf's shoulder. "Yes, Legolas?"

"There was never a time where I didn't love you," the elf whispered softly, "When my father wouldn't let me leave Mirkwood, all I could think of was trying to get back to you or get word to you somehow." His eyes closed slowly, "My father stopped me every time."

Aragorn looked down at Legolas; his heart ached, the hurt of the past eight years rushing back to him. "I should have tried harder to find you," the ranger admitted. "Foolish human pride, as you used to say..."

"Shhh... Don't think like that. I just wish that my father's actions hadn't hurt you so much."

"What happens now, Legolas? What will your father say now?"

Legolas shook his head, "I don't care. I just don't want to be parted from you ever again." His hands caressed each side of the ranger's face, tilting it so their gazes met, "I know it sounds foolish to ask now but, would you take my immortality if I offered it to you?"

"Oh, Legolas... I love you so much that I am torn... I want to be with you forever, but forever is not to be mine. I would not take yours."

Aragorn's lips were given the gentlest of kisses, "Whatever happens, know that I will never stop loving you... My Strider." Legolas tightened his arms and let his head press against the ranger's shoulder, "Forever."

"Forever, as long as you will have me, my prince," agreed the ranger, holding the elf tight against him. "I shall be yours."

Legolas whispered after several moments, overwhelmed with emotions that the vow drew from him, "Then you'd better not plan on going anywhere for a while."

"I don't plan on it," replied Aragorn, smiling and kissing him again.