It didn’t start out at all how you would think. It started out with a loss. Arwen had gone off with some other man, and was no longer concerned with Aragorn. This is how it starts. The council of Elrond had commenced. Legolas had defended Aragorn from Boromir’s scorn. Aragorn was thinking: ‘I’m perfectly capable of defending myself, thank you,’ but he restrained himself.


They had set off. Aragorn was unhappy with Legolas joining the group, for he had no time for aloof elves. Or so he thought. As Boromir taught Merry and Pippin to swordfight, Legolas stared off into the distance. Aragorn probably never would have spared Legolas even a glance, except that the sunlight glinted off of his face, giving it a glowing appearance. ‘Wow,’ thought Aragorn. ‘He is beautiful.’ Then he immediately wondered where such a foolish thought had come from. But already a seed of desire had grown in his heart, although Aragorn remained oblivious to it.

That night, Aragorn chose first watch. He sat staring into the fire when he heard a slight crack, barely detectable. He whipped around, to find Legolas hurrying out of the camp. Though it may have been a terrible idea, he too rose and followed.

However, Legolas had heightened senses, for he was an elf. He turned, and calmly asked of Aragorn, “Why is it that you follow me, mortal?” It was not meant to injure, but it stung a little. Legolas’ testy eyes never strayed from Aragorn’s own. Suddenly, Aragorn’s memories of how he had thought of Legolas earlier surfaced. Ashamed, he averted his gaze. This only heightened Legolas’ curiosity further. With even steps, the elf strode forward. He grabbed a hold of Aragorn’s wrist, and tightly gripped, leaving marks. The shock of contact raced through Aragorn, even as it must have done for Legolas; he saw the elf flinch, if only slightly. ‘Why am I feeling this?’ Aragorn asked himself, more confused than angry. His eyes connected with Legolas’ and for a special moment, all was still. Moonlight glinted off of Legolas’ hair, and his icy blue eyes were illuminated. The very air felt electric. Then Legolas dropped Aragorn’s wrist and the moment was passed. Carefully, Legolas said, “I believe it is my watch.” Aragorn nodded awkwardly.

Aragorn could not sleep while Legolas watched. More than once, he felt the elf’s eyes staring at him with his intense serenity. He lay reviewing that moment, stuck on replay in his head. He was beginning to understand what he was feeling, but that made it none the more clearer. Legolas was so foreign, so aloof, yet he had a certain intensity to him. Eventually Aragorn began feeling Legolas’ light footsteps on the ground. Each time the steps neared him, his heart pounded against his chest. He longed to run his fingers through Legolas’ hair, stroke his face… but no. Such thoughts were not right.



As he paced, his thoughts were of confusion. He wished he could brush off the shock after that touch. But he had a feeling there was more to it. As soon as Aragorn’s breathing revealed he was fast asleep, Legolas stopped pacing and went to stand overlooking Aragorn. He examined the features of this person, this mortal, who had caused him confusion. His rugged style was, Legolas had to admit, rather stunning, but now as he looked at him, he saw him somewhat differently than before. His face looked angelic and filled Legolas with a feeling he could not quite describe. Legolas longed to reach out, just one touch… no. As Legolas watched, Aragorn’s chest swelled with a breath, then let it out with a heavy sigh. This one, simple action in that moment seemed of utmost significance, and Legolas felt as though he had witnessed a miracle. Surely one stroke couldn’t wake Aragorn… Legolas reached out a tentative hand, then drew it back. A sudden fear shot through him, then Legolas quickly retreated to leaning against a tree. It was so sudden, this new feeling.


The next day, Legolas noticed that Aragorn was avoiding his gaze. Yet he’d turn round and catch Aragorn studying him with those bright blue eyes lacking innocence for one so young (for you must remember, Legolas was an elf). Whenever Legolas looked at Aragorn he felt a breathlessness unlike anything he’d ever encountered. Yet he found Aragorn fairly pleasing to look at. His rugged handsomeness portrayed dignity like that of the king he was destined to become.

In the following days, much remained the same. If any other of the Fellowship noticed any changes between the two, they never mentioned it. The days dragged on, each waiting for the other to make a move but too afraid to do it themselves.


It was Aragorn’s night watch a week or two after the first incident. As Aragorn sat there, he glanced over at Legolas. The temptation grew too strong. He crept over towards the elf and reached out a hand… and stroked the cool skin of Legolas’ cheek. The touch sent shivers down Aragorn’s back. He brushed the hair off of Legolas’ forehead. Even more daring, after his first successes, Aragorn traced his finger along Legolas’ jawline. He lightly ran his finger over Legolas’ lips. Warmth spread into his finger as Legolas exhaled through the mouth. Aragorn brought back his finger and led it along his own cracked lips, fascinated. Suddenly, he realized himself, and how awkward the situation would be if Legolas woke up. He quickly left back to the fire. Next it was Boromir’s watch, and Aragorn woke him before retiring for the night.


They had run into snow on the way. (This is in the movie) Aragorn was carrying Frodo, but his real focus was on Legolas. As the rest of the Fellowship trudged in the snow, Legolas easily tread above it. Much like himself, Legolas had also been regarding Aragorn differently of late. Snow clung to Legolas’ golden hair, and gathered on his shoulders, but Legolas did not seem to mind. He did of course seem beautiful to Aragorn, as always of late.

That night they were camped while heading towards the Mines of Moria. Aragorn was stroking Legolas’ hair while he slept, as he had taken to doing. He let his hand slide down Legolas’ face, caressing his cheek. Suddenly, he too felt a hand on his cheek. It felt the same as the cool skin under his hand. Legolas’ eyes were wide open and Aragorn found himself staring into their endless blue depths. “Hullo, Aragorn,” stated Legolas calmly, yet a shy smile crept across his face, betraying his emotions. Aragorn felt Legolas’ hand running through his hair, a tickling sensation that was not unpleasant. Legolas’ eyes shone with emotion. Aragorn leaned forward and whispered in his ear. “Love me?” “Yeah,” came the usually stoic elf’s reply. “Good, cause I love you back.”

A flush crept across each of their faces as they realized they had no secrets left to hide from each other. Aragorn kissed Legolas’ cheek, really gently. They fell asleep leaning against each other.


They had made it into the Mines of Moria. Gandalf could not remember which way to go. While everyone sat around waiting, Legolas and Aragorn snuck off to a corner not too far away. Legolas was in the middle of stroking Aragorn’s hair tenderly when he asked: “If today was your last day, what would you want to do more than anything else?” Aragorn spoke no words only pulled Legolas towards him and kissed him, long and sweet.

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