Chapter Text
"Good morning, Estel."
"Good morning." He replies lightly, and sits down at the table, taking a piece of bread, and placing it on his plate.
He is at Rivendell, spending time with his family after a particularly rough mission. Arwen, Elladan, Elrohir, Elrond and he sit around the table eating their breakfast in the quiet of the garden, only the soft sound of the river and the birds chirping in the background. Easy conversation flows, and Aragorn smiles to himself. He is glad to be home.
"Well, I shall be away now." Arwen says, standing from her seat.
"I will accompany you, if you do not mind, sister." Aragorn says, getting to his feet.
Arwen looks at him for a moment. "No, you have only just returned. You must rest some." Aragorn doesn't miss the worry in Arwen's eyes as she casts one more glance at him before striding from the terrace.
"Well, dear brother, I suppose you will be stuck here after all your adventuring." Elrohir grins.
"And perhaps you shall find yourself adventures? Or is it not opposites we are playing at?" Aragorn deflects easily with a light hearted smile. "May I speak with you after breakfast?" Aragorn turns towards Elrond, "I have a few things of importance to discuss."
"Of course."
"Perhaps after you will join us in training?" Elladan asks.
Aragorn nods, and they all stand.
"Come, walk with me." Elrond says. They make their way down into the lush gardens of Rivendell. "What is it that ails you?" Elrond begins.
"I lost two men. They were ones of mine, and I had counted on them before. I did not know them very well, but we fought together. Loss is not foreign to me, I will be alright. It is only that I see how Arwen and even the twins worry, and I am not as badly as they think I am."
"You are grieving their loss. It is not an easy thing to do, and they understand that." Elrond pauses looking him in the eyes for a moment. "Your siblings are worried, but in a few days time they will see you are well."
Aragorn smiles. "Thank you."
They come to a bench that looks out over the river and waterfalls, and sit down.
"Speak to me of them."
Aragorn looks away, down into the water. "Borongir was a good man. He had a wife he always spoke of with such love, and he was a good sword fighter and even better with a battle axe." He pauses, watching the water. "Mirdur made wonderful stew, and had many great stories. He was quiet a jester, and a mean knife fighter. I, and all in the company shall miss them dearly."
"I hope to speak with you of them as often as you need." Elrond says.
"Thank you."
They both stand, and walk back towards the house. Elrond goes inside to his study while Aragorn makes his way past the house and to the small field where Elladan and Elrohir are sparring.
"Ah! Brother! Come, help me here!" Elrohir calls to him from the ground, where Elladan holds him still in a chokehold. "Come, please, I must tap out if you do not help me!" He calls pleadingly once again, comically flailing about, trying to find some purchase. Aragorn hops over the fence, and walks over to them.
"Come on, let us begin a new match. Elrohir, you have been defeated." Elladan says, and let's go. Elrohir pounces at the opportunity and pulls him down, pressing him against the ground.
"You are cheating! I have let you go!"
Aragorn chuckles, leaning against the fence and waiting for his brothers to stop their incessant bickering.
After several minutes they both come to a standing position. "Well, I believe we are ready for a rematch."
"What do you say to swords?" Aragorn asks.
They find old, blunt blades in the small shed in the corner of the field, and begin. The three of them move fluidly about the grass, deflecting and ducking away from blows, not one of them making a mistake. Each of them focused, every muscle poised and ready, concentrating on victory. They go on for several minutes, the three blades crashing repeatedly. Aragorn, as a human, is the first to make a mistake. He falls backwards, and in the moment of confusion, Elladan knocks Elrohir's blade from his hand, then pushes him away all in a second. He swings about to Aragorn, ready to hold his blade to his throat, have them surrender at the same moment, but as he turns he finds Aragorn's swordpoint pressed against his chest, the man grinning at him.
"I believe I win, dear brother."
"That you do." Elladan laughs. Elrohir springs to his feet, and jumps at Aragorn, all graceful sword fighting forgotten. The three of them tangle on the ground, none of them actually winning in the end, instead ending up laying in the grass panting.
"We've missed you, Estel. We've had our adventures and missions, patrols and all, but you have been far away. I am glad you are home." Elladan says in a serious tone.
"Yes. You must stay for some weeks." Elrohir adds.
"I suppose if I must…" Aragorn jests, earning a punch in the arm. "Come! Let us get washed up for lunch."
They all head inside, going to their rooms. Aragorn enters his chambers, a strange bittersweet feeling welling up in his chest. He glances at the bed he had slept in the night before after arriving home after riding for a week. This is his old room, the one he had had as a child, the one he can still call his whenever he returns home. He goes to the adjacent chamber. It is smaller, and houses a small pool filled with crystal clear water. He strips down, and lowers himself into the water. He enjoys the sensation of cleanliness whenever he has the chance to return to Rivendell.
A few minutes later he dresses and goes to lunch. When he arrives, Elrond is sitting at the head of the table, a letter held in his hand. Aragorn sits, and a couple minutes later the twins arrive as well. Arwen is only set to return the following morning, so it is only the four of them.
"Before we eat, I have been brought news," Elrond begins, "Legolas, the son of King Thranduil has been sent to us- to you, Estel. His father requests of you to be companions. He believes you can teach each other much."
Aragorn looks up in surprise. "Very well," he says, "I will be pleased to meet him."
The next day, the Prince arrives. It is just after breakfast, and Aragorn is sitting in the garden, reading when he hears the sound of hooves from the bridge. He hurries up to the house in time to see a young blond elf leap gracefully to the ground from a white steed. Aragorn can't help but notice how the sunlight breaks on his golden hair, and how his striking blue eyes scan across the courtyard.
"Is Strider here?" He asks in a calm, almost commanding voice.
Aragorn steps forward. "We have received word of your arrival. I am Strider, but here I am known as Estel. I am glad to see you safely here." He smiles, their eyes meeting, but Legolas remains composed, not smiling.
"Greetings, Estel. My father spoke highly of you."
"I have heard you are an outstanding soldier." Aragorn replies.
"I have heard the same of you. For a human."
"Ah, well, yes." Aragorn smiles at him once again, still not receiving one in return. "Come inside, please. I am sure Lord Elrond will be very pleased to see you."
They walk along the corridor leading to Elrond's study in silence. Aragorn knocks, and after being allowed access, opens the door.
"Ah, Legolas. The last time I saw you, you were still a child." Elrond is smiling at him, and Legolas feels that unlike with Estel, he needs to return the smile. He lifts the corners of his mouth, and nods along. "How is your father?" Elrond continues.
"He is well." Legolas replies, still the slight smile glued to his lips. He stares almost completely straight ahead, ignoring everything and concentrating on the conversation.
"Well, I am sure you are tired. Perhaps we can speak in the afternoon, or perhaps tomorrow. Estel, please show Legolas to his room." Elrond sits back down at his desk, and they turn to leave. "Oh, yes, and Legolas, you are welcome to the library or gardens. I will have someone fetch you for lunch." He looks back down at his papers, and Aragorn closes the door.
They walk back along the corridor, and then upstairs.
"Here is your room. You have a washroom, and there should be a change of clothes in the drawers. If you need anything, my room is down the hall."
"Thank you." Legolas finally spares him a smile, and then disappears into his room.
Legolas closes his door, and immediately sits down on the floor, against the door. He squeezes his eyes shut, willing it all away. When he lifts his hand up to rub his forehead, his fingers tremble. He reaches into his pocket, looking for a small package. He pulls out the bundle of fabric with a string wrapped around it twice. He unties the knot, and puts the fabric on the floor, a tiny, thin blade lying in the middle. He undoes his shoes, and exposes his ankle. The blade glides across his skin lightly, a small trail of blood forming across his ivory skin.
There is a moment of freedom from the pain in his chest, the tightness of his stomach, and the vast, unnameable feelings. He relaxes, leaning his head against the door for a moment. He draws a second, parallel line to the first, and then drops the blade. He takes a deep breath before taking another piece of cloth from his pocket, and wiping first the blade, then his leg. The cuts aren't deep, just enough to bleed and sting.
He wraps the blade up, and then pulls himself to his feet, and heads to the bathroom.
Fifteen minutes later, he is clean and fully dressed, only a small bandage beneath his clothing left as evidence. He sits down on his bed, and then lays back, relaxing against the mattress. He finally lets the exhaustion roll over him, everything he had kept at bay in favor of his father, getting here, then Estel and Elrond coming forward. He realizes after a few moments that he isn't breathing. He waits until he feels uncomfortable, his lungs beginning to protests at the lack of oxygen to draw breath.
He just lays on his back, legs hanging off the bed, willing himself to move. Finally, after he doesn't know how long, he pulls his legs up onto the bed, and curls up.
What next?
He pushes the thought away. He doesn't need plans.
There comes a knock at the door. "Legolas Greenleaf?"
"Yes." He calls back, his chest immediately tightening.
"Luncheon is ready, if you would care to join."
He gathers himself up, smoothing his hair out with a shaky hand. He steps out into the hallway with a small smile, and closes the door with a steady hand.
When Legolas enters the room, everyone else is already seated. Elrond stands up.
"Welcome. This is Elladan, Elrohir, and Arwen. She was just telling me about the patrol she has only just returned from. Here, sit."
Legolas sits down beside Arwen, and everyone begins eating as Arwen recounts her journey. Legolas eats some salad, but leaves it at that.
"And then, from the tree, I shot the wolf with my bow." Arwen finishes.
Soon, Elrond stands. "Come to my study with me, Legolas."
They walk along the hall together, and then sit down in two comfortable armchairs in Elrond's study, beside his desk.
"Now tell me, Legolas, how are you?"
"I am well. I am happy to have finally arrived." And to be away from my father.
"I am glad you are here. How are you finding it so far?"
"Lovely."
Legolas spends the rest of the afternoon on his terrace, reading and watching the trees. He feels almost peaceful, alone and safe.
He is called to dinner a few hours later. He sits down the same place he had at lunch. Every single muscle in his body is tense, his chest aching. He peers through the fuzziness, and eats, listening to the conversation. He finds himself bouncing his leg, and stops himself. He digs a nail into his wrist, and then begins tapping his leg with a finger.
Dinner ends, and he stands up, his vision blurring for a long moment.
"Legolas! Care to join us?" Estel asks, beconing him towards the garden.
"No, I am tired." He replies from the doorway. "Good night."
"Good night."
He makes his way back to his room, and kicks off his clothing, leaving it on the floor. He falls into bed, and pulls the covers over himself.
Aragorn, the twins and Arwen sit outside, laughing in the soft moonlight.
He listens to them, and wishes not to be with them, but to feel like them. His thoughts wonder, and he has to turn over, forcing himself away from the dark chasms his mind threatens him with. He has a chance here, he cannot throw it all away now.