The way to Gondor (Aragorn and Legolas fanfic)

A cheerful evening and lovely night

Aragorn POV

The sun was setting behind a faraway mountain. Thus, the open woodland we haden chosen to rest in for the night was lit up by the last strays of sun. Legolas hair shone golden as I watched him from behind. The elf was scanning the forest for possible dangers, his eyes squished together tightly, to get a better view. Small wrinkles of concentration formed on his forehead, which I found rather adoring. 

Sam and Gimli had lit up a fire in a small pit in the ground and were currently holding sausages into the flames. The warm smell of food made its way into my nose and I had to tear my gaze away from the silhuette that was Legolas. Taking a big breath, I turned around and sat down next to Merry, who was leaning into Pippin on his other side, trying to eat from the other one's sausage. But Pippin was very determined to eat the whole sausage, so he held it up and Merry tumbled onto his lap. With puppy eyes he looked up to his friend, who finished eating the food with relish, and after that gave Merry a peck on the lips, that tasted of dinner. 

I chuckled. These two were really some straighforwards beings. To me, it was clear they had some kind of playful relationship going on. Two so humorous hobbits were bound to end up together. 

Gimli handed me a sausage with a huge smile on his face. Somehow Legolas had found him a herb in the forest earlier, that made the mind lighter and lifted the mood. I could see the consequences of this on his face, but Gimli was still awake enough to speak sensibly. I didn't  begrudge him the matter however. Why not have fun as long as it is possible? Soon, we would be in war, and our vision would be blurred by rivers of orc blood. No, not think of that now.

I was chewing a piece of meat, when I felt a hand on my shoulder. 

"Would you mind if I squeezed myself in here?", the elf asked as he pushed Gimli away carefully to sit between us. 

"Hey laddie, I'm not a ping-pong ball!", Gimli grumbled, but was cheerful anyway and soon talked to Gandalf on his other side.

I handed Legolas a sausage, and as he took it, our hands touched. I felt that sparkle again, that my life had lacked of for such a long time. Legolas felt it too, I saw it by the look in his eyes. But he quickly drew his hand away again and dropped his gaze to the fire instead.

"Quite a nice night it will be, don't you think?", I asked him. 

He looked up at the sky, which was nearly black by now, and smiled lightly.

"Yes, it will", he replied and looked me in the eyes. "Really, quite nice."

I didn't really understand his mood in that moment. In his gaze there was affection, but also something else, something dark I couldn't detect. But he looked away again, too soon for me to fully get his feelings. We ate our sausages in silence.

---

I had taken the first watch and was sitting on a stone a bit away from the now died down fire. Everyone was sleeping, cuddling either into each other or seeking a coat for warmth. Even Boromir shared his cloak with Sam and Frodo, as theirs was much smaller. He had turned out to be quite a father figure, especially for the hobbits, and it was fun to watch him making jokes and telling tales, while the halfling listened carefully and took everything he said as complete truth. 

My eyes wandered to the figure of the sleeping elf. Always, when I regarded him, the memories flooded my brain. I knew I loved him dearly, but he seemed distant somehow. The incident with Arwen must have manifested itself in his mind. We hadn't yet talked about it, or about anything serious really. Suddenly, his body stirred and he sat up, opening his eyes. Carefully he stood up and tiptoed over the sleeping fellows. Then he approached me.

"My turn to keep the watch", he whispered. But instead of going to sleep, I pulled him down on the stone next to me. 

"Váre tien as ni! (Protect them with me)", I spoke silently. 

"Téreva. (Fine)"

He relaxed a bit and played with his hair. There seemed to be a knot in it, and he tried to untangle it with his slender fingers. Without asking him, I stopped them, holding his hand in mine, then fixed his hair myself. It was silver like the moonlight and smooth like a precious and rare fabric. Somehow my fingers came to caress the back of his neck and he turned to look at me. Just now I realized that I still held his hand in mine. 

"Lare (Stop)", he said silently, his voice flat and less of emotion. I stopped the movement, but kept my fingers were they were. "Thime umbart na tanca an tye, Aragorn. (Your fate is fastened for you)"

He turned away again. In his eyes I had seen the sadness and the hopelessness he felt. But somehow I believed there was more to it than that. For example, he had not let go of my hand, and hadn't pushed me away. Nevertheless it felt awkward to have my hand on his neck, so I let go. The shiver and little startle that went through him didn't pass me unnoticed. 

"Linne ana lóre, tye maure i sér. (Go to sleep, you need the rest)", he whispered, his gaze far in the distance. I obeyed. 

"Mára ló, mime cundu! (Good night, my prince)"

He shrunk onto the stone, as if my words had hit him. Yet, he refused to look at me again. After a few steps away from him, the darkness had swallowed him whole.