Aragorn wasn't a Ranger. Not really. No Ranger had a place to call home that he went to every month or so. But Aragorn did, and he was due back. Still, he was beyond the Misty Mountains in the forest of Mirkwood, looking for a river or stream where he could refill his canteen. The signs were pointing eastward, deeper into the forest, and that is where he was headed now.
Although he was not a true Ranger, Aragorn had fast learned their ways, and was extremely skilled in tracking and traversing the wilderness. The Rangers and their life of freedom had captivated him when one had happened upon his home long ago. Aragorn begged his host to let him travel and study the Ranger, and eventually he was allowed to go. After two years of living a Ranger's life, Aragorn returned to his home, but he could not stay long, for Aragorn had changed. Gone was the man who carried the burden of the title Aragorn, son of Arathorn, and heir of Isildur and to the throne of Gondor. In his place was Strider the Ranger, who answered to no one, and who had tasted freedom and now could not go back to his chains.
Aragorn had gone on his latest excursion nearly fourteen months ago, and felt that he should check back in with his home - the one thing that kept him from feeling as though he were a true Ranger - but he had found himself in Mirkwood, some ways away from his residence in Rivendell. Mirkwood was a place he hadn't been since his first excursion with the Ranger long ago. They had happened upon the Elvish kingdom there and had saved several elves from a monster of the woods, and Aragorn had been told that he would be forever welcomed back.
That was long ago, and Aragorn's memory of the land had faded some. This time, however, it did not fail him, as the sound of water drifted to his ears.
Mingled with the rushing of water floated the sweet sound of an elven voice in song, and as the river came into view, so too did a fair Elf who was bathing. His hair spilled over his bare shoulders and chest and was flaxen-blonde; his skin was the palest ivory. Both hair and body glistened in the midday sun, giving the Elf a golden glow about him.
Aragorn's breath caught. It had been long since he had looked upon the pale elves of the woods; all the elves of Rivendell were crowned with locks of dark sepia. This Elf was especially striking. He had beautiful, full lips that were the red-and-pink color of a ripe peach; his eyes the clear, dark blue of the river in which he stood; his cheekbones were high, his skin was flawless, and Aragorn was sure that he was the most magnificent creature he had ever laid eyes upon.
Suddenly, the Elf turned toward the shore and started out of the water. Aragorn realized with a start that he had been spying, and that he should turn away. Facing the forest and up river, Aragorn listened as the Elf waded out of the water and to his clothing on the shore.
After a moment, it became silent. Aragorn began to turn, but froze when he saw that the Elf had walked to stand just beyond him in the sandy bank. He was clad in a tunic the color of icicles with bare legs and blue-gray calfskin boots that came almost to his knees. He was watching Aragorn with amusement, his soft lips curved ever so slightly in a smile. Drawn toward him, Aragorn stepped forward, leaving the shadowy safety of the trees for the light of the sun.
The Elf's smile grew. "I wondered when you were going to venture from the wood."
Embarrassed by his stupidity - forgetting the remarkable quality of the vision and hearing of Elven folk - Aragorn blushed. And as he realized that, his blush deepened. He answered in the Elven tongue that had been spoken to him. "Forgive me, Master Elf."
"There is nothing to forgive." The Elf stepped forward and gave a graceful bow. "I am Legolas, son of Thranduil, and Prince of the Elves of Northern Mirkwood."
Aragorn thought to introduce himself as Strider the Ranger, but instead said, "It is an honor to meet you, Prince. I am Aragorn, son of Arathorn, and I have traveled from Rivendell."
"My people are familiar with that name, Elessar, but you are a long way from Rivendell, and further from the land of your birth. What brings you to Mirkwood?"
Aragorn looked toward the sun, which was lowering in the sky. "That is ...complicated." He paused and walked toward the river. "But I guess that I wanted freedom."
Legolas walked to stand beside him. "Then it is simple," he said with the innocence of one who has never been caged.
Aragorn laughed a little. "It's not so simple when it is your life."
Placing a hand gently on Aragorn's shoulder, Legolas looked steadily into his eyes. "Then tell me why it is not simple."
Aragorn looked away from the kind, but piercing, eyes. "I don't want to keep you, Prince."
Legolas smiled. "Time is of little importance to elves, Lord. But you shall have to call me by my given name if you are to trust me with your tale."
Nodding, Aragorn returned the smile. "Then I must ask of you the same courtesy, Legolas. Let us speak in formal speech no more, but rather in the speech of friends."
Legolas let his hand trail down Aragorn's arm. "Very well, Aragorn." Aragorn turned to him in surprise as Legolas clasped his hand. "I know a place where we can sit comfortably while we talk. Come with me."
After leading Aragorn through the woods for some time, Legolas paused at the base of a great cedar tree. After breathing in the fresh, green scent, he looked to Aragorn. "Can you climb?"
Aragorn smiled. "Not so swift as an elf, nor as graceful as one. But I will manage."
Smiling as well, Legolas turned and scampered nimbly up the tree. Slowly, but skillfully, Aragorn climbed up after him. Within the thick branches of the tree was placed a platform, and upon it sat large, fluffy pillows of satin and silk whose colors mirrored those of the forest surrounding it.
Legolas stood in the middle of the platform and swept his arm over the area. "Please, sit."
Aragorn chose a spot, then sat himself down roughly on the pillows. Legolas offered him both water and lembas, elvish waybread, which he greatly accepted. Moving across from him, Legolas then gracefully placed himself on a large gray pillow. As he curled around, Legolas said, "Forgive me for having nothing more to offer you; this is but a quiet spot where I usually come alone."
Aragorn shook his head. "This is more than enough, Legolas. Thank you."
After waiting for Aragorn to eat and drink, Legolas finally asked of his tale. "I am very curious to see how someone could feel trapped by the walls of Rivendell, Aragorn. Although I, myself, often wander alone in the forest."
Sighing, Aragorn looked above him into the canopy of the cedar. "It is not Rivendell, Legolas. It is Isildur and Gondor, and Elessar and the Evenstar. It is Strider the Ranger who does not want to have to think of how he should be heading back home when he has met a fair Elf bathing in the woods. And it is a Man who does not truly feel as though he has a home at all, and who does not presently want to have one."
Legolas smiled at him sadly. "It must be a terrible weight, your name, if it drives you to forsake your home."
Still gazing upward, Aragorn shook his head. "No, it is not so terrible. In fact, it is a wonderful thing, to roam freely. Think," he said, turning on his side to face Legolas. "If I did not leave Rivendell, I never would have found my way here, to you."
Legolas smiled. "That would indeed have been a terrible thing. It is not often that Men come into Mirkwood, not this deep. You, in fact, are the first man that I have ever seen."
Aragorn could not hide his surprise. "Truly? You have never met a Man? Not even a Ranger?"
Legolas shook his head, and looked beyond Aragorn to the forest around them. "I do not care for their company. I do not care for the company of many besides the trees and animals of the forest." Looking at Aragorn sideways, he added, "But perhaps I was hasty in judging Men."
"What of Elves? Do you seek their company?" Aragorn wondered how it was that this ethereal Prince was ever left alone.
Legolas turned onto his stomach and traced the threading of one of his pillows. "What of you, Aragorn? Do you often seek the company of Elves? For what are you doing so deep in Mirkwood?"
Aragorn looked at him for a long moment. "I do not know what drew me here." A small smile pulled at Legolas' lips. "Perhaps you knew that you would meet a fair Elf bathing in the woods."
"The fairest," Aragorn replied softly. "But I did not know. For if I did, I would have left Rivendell a long time ago to seek you."
Legolas came to the end of his pillow's threading. Staring at it intently, he tried to ignore the heat he felt creeping into his cheeks, but his porcelain skin gave him away. "But you must return soon, you said?"
Aragorn smiled, ignoring the question. "How is it that you blush, fair Prince? For I cannot believe that you are not daily lavished with compliments for your great beauty." Legolas' cheeks turned from rosy to crimson. "I am but one Elf of many."
Shaking his head, Aragorn protested, "And I have been among many an Elf, but I have never seen one so flawless as you, Legolas. You appear more lovely with each passing moment."
Finally, Legolas smiled, but his blush deepened further. "Aragorn, you are not at all what I heard of men to be like. But then, you are not an average man."
"And you are not an average Elf." Aragorn held his gaze until Legolas turned again to look at the pillow. "But you did ask me when I must return to Rivendell. I have too long been away, and should leave this evening."
Snapping back to look at Aragorn again, Legolas said firmly, "No. You should stay the night."
Aragorn shook his head. "It is too far to travel back to your kingdom, Legolas."
Legolas stared levelly back at him. "Then we shall sleep here."
Aragorn awoke before the sun had begun to rise. He looked up into the branches above him at the gray sky peeking through the near-solid blanket of leaves and wondered for a moment where he was. Rolling onto his side, Aragorn saw Legolas sitting with his legs dangling over the ledge.
Legolas turned to him. "Good morning, Aragorn."
Smiling, Aragorn pushed himself off of the pillows, which had provided him a surprisingly comfortable sleep. "I feared you were but a dream," Aragorn said softly. He pushed himself up off the bed and walked over to where Legolas was sitting.
Legolas offered a hand to him, and Aragorn helped the Elf to stand up beside him. "I fear that you soon will become one."
Aragorn didn't reply. For several moments, the two looked silently over the forest as dawn slowly came upon them.
Suddenly, Legolas jumped down to the forest floor. He looked back up to Aragorn. "Come, I know how to quickly get to the edge of Mirkwood."
Aragorn nodded, feeling oddly empty. After jumping off the platform, Aragorn paused for a moment in the crouching position he landed in. Staring at the ground in front of him, he mumbled, "You needn't do that, Legolas. I know the way."
Legolas crouched down beside him. Placing a hand on Aragorn's shoulder, he shook his head. "You do not know this way, Ranger." He stood back up and began to walk away.
Behind him, Aragorn finally stood. "Thank you, Legolas."
Legolas didn't pause in his graceful stride as he looked back at Aragorn. Tossing him a wafer of lembas, Legolas smiled.
Aragorn caught it and started after him. "I won't need this, Legolas, if you smile at me like that again. It will be energy enough."
Legolas' delicate laughter floated back to him as the Elf flitted in and out of shadow and light. As the sun began to peer between the thick trees, only Legolas' fair hair gave him away with the occasional flash of gold as he blended easily into the woods around him.
"You are already fading into a dream, Prince." Aragorn sighed as Legolas again disappeared ahead of him. In a moment he reappeared again and Aragorn hurried uselessly to try and catch him. "And I fear that I am soon to wake from it."
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Story notes: This is my first attempt at LotR fiction, so please be kind :) This story is going to be quite long - following them to beyond the end of RotK, so be preparred! And please enjoy :)
