Disclaimer: For the last time, not mine

Aragorn lay there, prone on the mud slicked floor, sucking oxygen into his lungs, in and out, in and out. He closed his eyes, blocking out the light of stars and fires, and wished he could close his ears as well, to block out the terrified screams of horses that could smell the death and fear, the panicked shouts of the villagers and the pained yells of the injured. Soon the howls of misery would join them, as women discovered the deaths of their husbands, sons and fathers. He knew he ought to stand, to help, to do his duty, but the orcs were dead and gone, and he could hear a Dúnedan taking control.

Almost silent footsteps approached, and were his head not on the ground, he would not have heard them. Elvish or Dúnedan, Aragorn decided, and the thought that it might be an elf made his heart race. A message from Legolas, at last, after a year of separation? Desire, longing and pain ripped through him, as it always did when he was reminded of how much he missed the blonde elf. Tears veiled his eyes as he opened them, but a white hand hovered above him, offering a help up, and he accepted it gratefully.

As he got to his feet, his head swum with the blood rushing to it, and before he could mutter his thanks, he was pulled into a tight and oh so blissfully familiar embrace. The only coherent thought he could muster was, "Ai Legolas." Every inch of the lithe but deceptively strong body against his… the smell of the cloth that he buried his nose in… Even with his eyes squeezed shut against the tears that were threatening to spill over again… it was his Legolas. Aragorn had been sent away just days after Legolas had lost the baby, though the elf was not healed properly physically let alone emotionally. He had not seen or heard from him since.

Legolas' hand was knotting in Aragorn's hair, and guiding the human's head towards him. Lips pressed to Aragorn's forehead, scattering them feverishly. As he clung to the elf, Aragorn could only hear his name being whispered to him, rapidly through the night.

"Oh my love, oh my Legolas," Aragorn mumbled, unable to make any other words coherent.

Suddenly, Legolas pulled away ran his eyes across Aragorn's features, drinking in the sight. He cupped the human's pale face between his hands, and found tears under his skin. "You are crying. Are you alright? Are you hurt? Did I hurt you?"

"Stop talking," Aragorn instructed, and slammed his lips into the elf's. Elbereth, it had been so long, but still Legolas tasted the same.

"Aragorn! Aragorn!" The demanding voices made Aragorn's back stiffen, and his hands tightened on Legolas.

There was a deep sigh in his ear from the elf, and, momentarily, the embrace became crushing, and he could not breathe. "You have to go to them," Legolas said, softly. Though no one would have heard, it added an urgency and yet a privacy to the words.

"I do." Very slowly, very reluctantly, Aragorn pulled away. "I am sorry, so sorry."

"Do not be," Legolas said, that familiar, slightly crooked smile twisting his mouth.

Aragorn began to turn away, his hands sliding down Legolas' arm to his hand, but before he let go, he hesitantly asked, "You will be here when I come back?"

"I am not leaving," Legolas assured him, and watched the younger male make his way towards the lights. In the firelight, Legolas could see the human's silhouette change: his shoulders straightened, his chin came up, and his voice rose above the chaos, making orders, taking charge. Behind him, his horse approached, and Legolas leant back against her. "He has changed." Hanoni nuzzled at his ear, and Legolas sighed. "You are right; so have I."


"Where were you?" asked Menercis, as he carried the plank of wood away from the site of destruction.

Aragorn, holding the other end of it, asked, "When?" whilst feeling a hot flush taking over his cheeks.

"Immediately after. There was a quarter of an hour when we could not find you." Fifteen minutes, was that how long they had been locked together for? It did not feel like they were together for as long. He could not hold or be held by Legolas for long enough, not ever.

"Sorry, I…" Aragorn invented quickly, "was hit over the head. I just had to get my breath back." With Menercis, he threw down the plank and stood back up with a sigh.

Menercis reached out, looking concerned, "Are you alright, do you need to sit? The last thing we needs is you keeling over."

Unable to help but roll his eyes, Aragorn assured him, "Do not fret, I am fine. And we are almost done." Hands on his hips, his eyes ranged over the village. "The injured are being tended, I could help them though, the dead are being sorted by their families, the fires are doused…"

"Go, rest for a little while," Menercis said, with a smile. "There are five of us." Suddenly, his eyes flicked up, and he frowned. "Who is that?" Aragorn followed his gaze, and could not help but grin. "Do we know him? He is staring."

"That is my betrothed," said Aragorn, in an almost hungry voice. He had been excused – Menercis led the group of Dúnedain for now, until Aragorn was experienced enough to take charge – and he was going to take full advantage of that. With a smirk back at his friend, he made his way towards Legolas. Although he wanted to, he resisted the urge to fall into Legolas' arms; it felt… awkward after the abrupt enthusiasm of earlier. Avoiding Legolas' piercing blue eyes, he muttered, "How are you? You were not well when I had to leave you."

A frown flickered across Legolas' forehead, but it was wiped away from centuries of tight elven control over his emotions. "I am better," he replied, studying Aragorn with an intensity that made his blue eyes darken. "Particularly now." Before Aragorn could think of anything else to say, Legolas rapidly continued, "Do you want to get away from these others?"

"Yes," was Aragorn's immediate response. He could feel the eyes of the Dúnedain on them, and all he wanted to do was fold himself back into Legolas' arms. He could not stand the idea though that they would see him break down, and he was so close to that already. Legolas had begun to walk away, his hand twitching at his side as if he longed to reach out for Aragorn's. Legolas did not stop until they were submerged in thick forest, hidden between dense trees.

"Are you angry at me?" Aragorn asked, reaching out a hand to grab at Legolas' arm. The silence was too oppressive, and the quiet from the forest did not help. "What did I do to anger you?"

For a moment, Legolas just leant back against a lichen coated tree, and stared up at the thick branches above him. "No, I am not angry, I… do not know what I feel and I do not know what we ought to do."

Aragorn's breath escaped him in a long sigh, and he took a step forwards, closing the gap between them so he could lean against Legolas' front. It took a minute, a whole long minute before Legolas wrapped his arms tightly around the human. Aragorn buried his head into Legolas' neck, just listening to the elf's breathing. He could feel Legolas' chest moving, but that was the only motion. "You have grown thin," Aragorn told Legolas, overwhelmed by the need to fill the silence.

"So have you, so I fear you are not qualified to tell me off for this," Legolas merely replied, in a voice beginning to warm in emotion. "Food was not what I wanted after… everything. I…"

Gently, Aragorn interrupted, hating the way that Legolas' voice was breaking as he spoke. Damnation, Legolas was supposed to be the strong one. "You do not have to talk about that," Aragorn said, "Not if you do not want to." He had noticed how Legolas had not dared step into the village to help with the clear up of the attack, and he understood why. For elves, a year was nothing, and an emotional trauma like the one Legolas had withstood could take lifetimes to heal, if they could at all. Aragorn only had one lifetime.

"I do not know if I do or do not," Legolas confessed, "All I knew was that… I had to get back to you." Aragorn melted a little, but let the elf continue. "My family, when they made you leave, they thought it would be good for me, so that I was not reminded of what had happened, and so that they could concentrate on making things right between the family, but they were wrong. And I knew how long a year is for a human, and so much can happen in that time, and…"

Again, Aragorn was forced to intervene. "Nothing has happened Legolas, just… calm down, please." His hand splayed out on Legolas' chest, and he could feel the elf's rapid heartbeat.

Legolas' head tipped back up, and, in a slower voice, and a bleak tone, asked, "Do you still have feelings for me? Has there been anyone else? Have I left it too long?"

Aragorn shook his head against Legolas' neck, "I do not know why you are worrying about this Legolas," he said, pulling back to raise his hand to the elf's soft, unblemished cheek. "I loved you before, and I love you now, in this moment, and I hope to love you for years after this day. There was never any other who held my heart."

Sighing, Legolas bowed his head so that his forehead met Aragorn's. "I am sorry. Right now, I do not know how I am supposed to react, or what to do. This… you... my body may be fixed, and my mind to some extent, but not my heart. May heart cries out for you."

"You have it, you heave me," Aragorn promised, his hand moving from Legolas' cheek to his hair. "But do I have you? Are you…?"

"Aragorn, for the past three hundred and thirty two days, my thoughts have been on you. You have been… I do not know where, but you have been moving and fighting and been active and I spent six months of that time being confined to my room, and… I missed you so much. I just wanted to hold you, and kiss you, touch you and make you mine."

"Oh, Legolas," sighed Aragorn, helplessly, but Legolas shook his head.

"I love you, Aragorn," he murmured, briefly meeting Aragorn's lips in a touch that was barely a brush. Aragorn almost whimpered at the sweetness, and then the painful absence. "And if my absence has not pushed us apart, we can try again. We can find again what we both know we feel."

Feeling as if he were in another one of his dreams Aragorn stared into Legolas' crystal blue eyes, and the emotions he saw raging there made his own eyes water. "We have not had the best of starts, not at all, but all that can be forgotten because it brought us together," he earnestly said, and his stomach flip-flopped at the relief and joy in Legolas' smile. But, without warning, it was gone, and Legolas was staring over Aragorn's shoulder.

"Erm… Aragorn, my lord?" The hesitant voice of Menercis said, from behind Aragorn.

Letting out a moan of annoyance, Aragorn leant forwards to rest his head on Legolas' shoulder. The elf remained staring straight at Menercis, every muscle tense as he held Aragorn almost painfully tightly. In a muffled voice, Aragorn said, "Legolas this is my squad leader, Menercis, Menercis, this is Prince Legolas of Eryn Lagaslen."

Aragorn could almost hear Menercis' eyebrows raise at the introduction, as the older Dunedain coughed and muttered, "It is nice to meet you, my Lord, but would it be possible, Aragorn if you could return to the village; they are worried about you and the Head wished for your presence."

Before he could respond, Legolas said, "No, it is not possible. There is no emergency that summons him, is there?"

"Not as such, but-"

"Then you can not have him," Legolas said, in a voice that was both haughty and challenging. His hold of Aragorn suddenly felt very possessive, and the human grinned into the elf's tunic: that was what he wanted. There was a long moment of silence, in which Aragorn knew the two leaders were trying to outstare each other. He also knew that Legolas would win. True to prediction, Menercis soon muttered, "Do not be too long."

Aragorn wondered whether he should reply, but Legolas beat him to it, biting out, "He will take as long as he wants." Aragorn had to smirk and knew that he ought to protest Legolas' domineering action, or claim that he would return quickly to do his duty, but he was really quite happy where he was. The Dúnedain returned to their loves in spring or summer, right now he was going to be with his.

Menercis merely made a grumbling noise, despising his authority being challenged by anyone but Aragorn, and left them alone. Trying to savour the moment, Aragorn waited for Legolas to speak, but he did not. Instead, the elf began to nibble lightly at Aragorn's neck, and the human had to gasp. The words, "What are you doing?" escaped Aragorn's lips, despite the fact he knew exactly what the elf was doing, as his hands moved to the ties of Aragorn's shirt.

"Do not play so innocent," Legolas murmured, and then hesitated. "I am sorry, am I doing this too fast?"

Aragorn blushed, feeling embarrassed, and replied, "A little, Legolas, I… I am tired, and hurt." Legolas' eyes widened, but Aragorn did not let him speak, "Not badly, but I have been fighting." He sighed, and regretfully pulled away. "In the morning, everything will be different and we can pick up from where we left off." He twined his hand with Legolas' and began to lead him off back towards the village.

Legolas followed, but sighed, "Aragorn, I was not going to stay. I was going to take you away."

Shoulders sagging, Aragorn stumbled for one step, but replied, "Legolas, I can not leave, I have a duty to these people, and I am young, and I need to learn and to help." For a minute, he nervously worried his lip, but then added, "Please do not leave."

In a shaky voice, Legolas said, "I will not, I will stay with you. I am not leaving you now. I was just not what I planned." Aragorn knew exactly what he was thinking.

"I have my own hut, divided from the others," he said, casually. They would be alone, Legolas was free to act however he wished, there would be no comments, and no one to hear them. As they continued, Aragorn was sure that Legolas' steps help something more of a skip.


It had been unbearably tense, waiting for Aragorn to get to sleep. For the first time, the human had turned away from Legolas' gaze to undress, whereas before they had been so comfortable with each other. And then he had settled into the small, single bed, inviting Legolas in, but they had not touched. The curves of Aragorn's body were at all times 3 inches away from Legolas', though every nerve of his body cried out for him to close the distance, and Elbereth he wanted to. But everything was strange. Every touch had sent sparks of fire through him, every time Aragorn spoke in that rough, and coarse voice, his stomach bubbled. But it was awkward, it was difficult, it was different now. There was a division between them, and Legolas did not know how to close it.

His arms crossed over his chest, and he shivered. Sine the child, he felt the cold far more than before, and it would take just three inches to warm himself against the back of the man he loved. The young man loved him back, he could see that, but he did not know how to show it. Neither of them did. Legolas should not have pounced on Aragorn, but he was feeling so… he did not even know. Tears sprang up to his eyes, all he wanted was to love and be loved by Aragorn. He had had spent so long caught in thought of him, in fear of abandonment.

He sighed and glanced across the small, wooden hut Aragorn had been living in. Should he leave? Would it be better for Aragorn if they parted again, until they were ready? It was late, in an hour or so the sun would start to rise… Without warning, Aragorn turned, and rolled up against Legolas. The elf heard his name being muttered out, in a voice that screamed of arousal. Legolas had to chuckle, and, though still hesitant, wrapped an arm around the human, securing them close together.

Closing his eyes, he surrendered to sleep. He would deal with the rest in the morning.


When Aragorn woke up, it was to the most pleasant feeling he had had in a long time. A very painfully long time. Enveloped in another's arms, tightly cushioned against Legolas' chest… suddenly everything was perfect. It did not matter what had happened before, it was gone, and the effects on Legolas… he did not know how long they would be there for, if they would ever fade. But this was Legolas, his Legolas, however he changed. Everything was perfect, right at this moment.

He turned, shuffling round so that he could face the elf. For a long, long time, he just stared at those perfect features, which were so immaculate, as if they were sculpted by the finest artist, from the finest porcelain. He knew that he wanted to wake up next to them every morning, every dawn, fall asleep next to them every night.

The dawn was breaking outside the hut, he could tell from the light beginning to seep through, and he knew that he would have to wake Legolas up. And he knew the best way to do so.


There was no better way to wake than with those lips against his, in an oh so familiar kiss. Without opening his eyes, Legolas murmured, "Good morning, my love."

There was a pause as Aragorn pulled away, and Legolas knew he was grinning before actually forcing his eyes open. The smile made his heart race, and Legolas reached up to twine his fingers into Aragorn's hair to bring their lips back together. Their kiss started gently, sweetly, but heated up rapidly, with Aragorn's morning hardness against Legolas' leg, until Legolas rolled and found himself on top of Aragorn instead, leaning over the human.

"No good morning?" Legolas queried, the greatest portion of his mind fixed on the heat of Aragorn's groin that had been moved against his.

"No, none," Aragorn replied with a grin as feral as the one on Legolas' face, wiggling under Legolas' weight, and his grin increased when the elf's head tipped back as a burst of pleasure shot through him. "Words are not always needed," Aragorn told him. It was always an odd sensation to have an elf lying on top of him; they had little weight, and yet their lithe form looked as if they should. And the warmth that radiated from Legolas was the same as with any human, and yet the touch of his skin could frequently be so much cooler, depending on his mood. Right now, his touch was hot.

Legolas lifted himself up slightly, and his hand made his way down into Aragorn's light sleeping trousers, and this time Aragorn was the one to gasp. "Make love to me," he moaned, wantonly. "I want you, inside me." He could see the elf hesitating, and Legolas' hand stopped its incredible caresses against his manhood.

Pulling his hand away, Legolas leant down against Aragorn's chest, to fiddle with his hair. "Are you sure?" He could vividly remember the feeling of that monster inside him, how terrible and how painful it was. He did not want Aragorn to hurt like that, he loved him far too much to ever do that to him. Under that attack, Legolas had not been able to find any pleasure, how would he know if Aragorn would?

"Of course I am sure," Aragorn said, frowning up at the turmoil ridden azure eyes. "I would not offer if I did not want it. I have been wanting it for… so long." The last words were a sigh of desire.

"I will be gentle," Legolas promised, "I will not let you be hurt." Not as I was. You will not have to limp the hallways, you will be able to raise your head high. You will not cry yourself to sleep because of something that you regret, and yet was not your doing.

Grinning, Aragorn told him, "You do not have to be, not at all. Sometimes, being gentle, is not what the person beneath you wants." Still knowing that Legolas was nervous, Aragorn added, "What we have, what we both know we could have, that is worth a try. Surely you know that?"

Legolas did. So they tried.


Withdrawing from Aragorn, Legolas tipped his head back and tossed his sweat slicked hair back. Aragorn was panting hard as he collapsed, breathless against the elf. Boneless, Legolas wondered if that was the best idea. His arms were trembling with the effort of keeping them both up. Another moan escaped from Aragorn's throat, hoarse from cries of pleasure.

"Ai, Elbereth that was…"

Legolas finished the sentence, "Perfection."

Exhausted, Legolas' quaking arms gave out and he collapsed back against the pillows, pulling Aragorn with him. He wound his arms around the human and closed his eyes. "I am not going to help these villagers today am I?" Aragorn asked, his face burying into the smooth, naked chest of his lover, and could feel the rapidly pounding rhythm of Legolas' heart under his cheek.

Legolas purred his response. "No, you're mine now."

A/N: And that, folks is the end of DODC. We hope you enjoyed your flight, and we will see you again soon.