As Aragorn leisurely strapped his pack to his horse, he saw Legolas and Gimli emerging from their quarters. Freshly bathed, his long hair wet and well-combed, the Elf walked barefoot, his tunic unfastened and open over his leggings. He carried his hunter green jerkin in one hand and his vambraces in the other while, in an unusual public display of assistance, the Dwarf carried his boots. Gimli bounced back and forth on his abbreviated legs, occasionally swinging one of the boots as if it were an axe, clearly recounting a rousing tale of battle. Amused, Legolas smiled.

Aragorn glanced up at the sky: The moon had entirely set now and a sudden nervousness gripped his insides. He worried about meeting his friend in the full light of day away from the charmed confines of the glade.

The wonder of the night the three of them had spent was beyond his imaginings, it was even beyond the boundaries of his memory for he was certain that his mind could not repaint it will total accuracy. Even now, his eyes felt exhausted as if what he had witnessed had been too much for human sight. And the sensations throughout his body were incredible, fantastical. He felt at once as if he could sleep for days and run for miles.

But he would still have willingly turned back time and erased it all if it altered his relationship with Legolas. He would rather have his friend than a memory. However, with what he hoped was uncharacteristic selfishness, he wanted both.

The Elf and Dwarf�s happy chatter reached his ears long before they neared the rest of him. �Well, Legolas,� Gimli said. �Should two of the Three Hunters find a trail and frighten another defenseless rabbit?�

�Ai, no. I fear not, Gimli,� Legolas refused, slowing to a stop. Aragorn could see in his limbs an unusual lethargy and he realized he�d never before seen a tired Elf. �But perhaps you might show me the proper way to wield an axe. I find it all very fascinating.� Playful sarcasm laced Legolas�s words as he claimed a boot and raised his leg to slide it onto his foot, allowing his flaxen hair to fall into the Dwarf�s face.

�Fool Elf,� Gimli growled. �Mind your hair.� He spat against the strands snagged on his beard and roughly brushed away the wet locks. �Ah, Aragorn! Good morning.� The Dwarf nodded genially to him as they approached. �Your royal party whispers that you are leaving. Are we to lose your company so soon?�

�I am sad to say you are, Gimli,� Aragorn answered, glancing over as Legolas stooped to slip on his remaining boot.

�I am not happy you will be gone, but it is good that you are going,� Legolas said kindly, smiling at him as he stood up straight once more.

Aragorn hesitated in his response. Looking upon the golden warrior in the morning sun, he was dazed to find he did not look different. As the Elf closed his tunic with nimble fingers, hiding the smooth expanse of chest, Aragorn could remember vividly the feel of his own fingers stroking in passion the soft skin and planes of muscle and yet, he felt no different. Legolas was just as he had always been and all at once, Aragorn realized Legolas had been right: there had been no lines to cross; he could have both the friend and the memory. Such is the wonder of Elves, he thought. He smiled easily.

�I feel it is,� he answered. �I have been away from my kingdom for too long. I hope that your travels will soon bring you to Gondor. Our land can always benefit from the presence of two stout-hearted visitors.�

�Journeying to Rivendell was a mutual decision,� Gimli informed, �and I do not recall whose turn it was to choose our next destination.�

�It was yours,� Legolas replied, slipping his jerkin on over his head. �And I think we are beginning to run out of caves.�

�We do not seem to be running out of forests, my friend,� the Dwarf said, sharing an amused wink with Aragorn. �So I cannot believe we have exhausted our supply of caves.�

�Well, then,� the Elf said with mock seriousness, �I am sorry, Aragorn, but it seems we have another dank hole to explore before visiting your grand halls in Minas Tirith. You understand we have our priorities.�

Aragorn smiled warmly, enjoying their camaraderie as he ever did. �Whenever you arrive, you will be given the hero�s welcome you deserve,� he replied, gingerly tucking an errant lock of hair behind Legolas�s ear. �But even now, not all is safe in the wilds of Middle-earth.� He claimed the archer�s gauntlets from the short wall beside them, adding, �I would advise you to not forget these.� With a teasing smile, he handed them to Legolas.

�I will not,� the Elf answered with a grin and the barest hint of a blush on his cheeks.

Aragorn looked between the two warriors, feeling a tug in his heart at having to leave them so soon. �Thank you, my dear friends,� he said, setting a hand on a shoulder of each. �May your journey be smooth.�

�And yours, Aragorn,� Legolas said.

Aragorn walked from them, returning to his rooms to claim the remaining parcels for his pack. Pausing a moment on the balcony, he looked out over his childhood home, not sure if he would ever return again. His traveling party bustled all through the courtyards and Aragorn knew it was not the last time he would see an Elvenhome populated by more Men than Elves. But it was the first time he felt he could continue on without the supervision of the Fair Folk and perhaps even do honor to Lord Elrond�s trust in him.

A duet of cheerful laughter drew him from his thoughts and he turned to see his Arwen standing with Legolas and Gimli. The two Elves grinned at one another fondly, good-humoredly while the Dwarf beside them just looked confused. Seeing how brightly Arwen smiled, seeing the weight and languor in her movements, knowing they were a result of Legolas�s actions and not his own, Aragorn was again reminded he should be jealous, and yet, he wasn�t.

In fact, he suddenly realized that he was smiling, too; smiling just to see his beloved silver maiden and golden archer so happy. With a genteel nod of her head that belied nothing of the intimacy they had shared during the night, Arwen parted from Legolas and moved toward the stairs. In moments, he heard the whisper of her gown upon the floor and heard a soft giggle as what laughter had been inspired by her talk with Legolas had not yet subsided.

�What was it made you laugh?� he asked, feeling near chuckling himself with the immense lightness of heart he felt.

�I tried to thank Legolas for his attentions last night,� she answered.

�Tried?�

�He thanked me before I could thank him.� She pressed a hand to her lips, silencing the return of her mirth.

�Why did he do that?�

Arwen looked up at him, her expression suddenly so open and affectionate it was almost painful to gaze upon. �My lord Aragorn,� she said silkily, �my dear King Elessar, surely you realize Legolas enjoyed his time with you last night.�

Aragorn felt his face flush hot. �I had not thought of it.�

Arwen�s eyes narrowed slyly. �I do not believe you.� His lovely wife smiled prettily, watching with dazzling eyes as a trio of attendants brushed past them, hauling a full wardrobe. He felt their curious glances. �They all wonder at the change in you,� she said softly, moving up behind him and sliding her hands around his waist. �They wonder what could have happened to the king overnight to cause such a hasty departure.�

�That is why I am keeping them busy: so they will not have time to ask.� He smiled enigmatically, turning in her arms to hold her close.

�Ah, but the journey home is a long one,� she said, smirking. �What will you answer when your advisers find their nerve and ask, �King Elessar, why so sudden? What happened that night?��

�I will tell them,� he mused, his expression falling serious, �I will tell them that I was shown a sight that forced beauty onto the spectrum of my vision once more.� He smiled genuinely at her, the expression feeling natural once again. She welcomed his lips against hers in a sweet kiss. Arwen held his face in her hands and it did not escape his notice that the pressure of her fingertips was weaker than usual.

�Ai, Aragorn,� she breathed. �I would not be so weary this morning if only a language existed which would allow me to express the depth and breadth of my love for you in words.�

He grinned. �For my part, I hope such a language never exists.�

***

Legolas stood watching the troupe of Men and horses travel along the narrow path out of Rivendell. Already, the forms of Arwen and Aragorn at the head of the exodus grew distant in the shadow of the valley to even the Elf�s sharp eyes.

�Aragorn�s spirits seemed much improved,� the Dwarf beside him observed.

�I believe they were,� Legolas answered.

A small rock skidded off the precipice, kicked idly by Gimli�s sturdy boot. �You,� he said with a grumbling cough, �you are a good friend, Legolas.�

The Elf turned to him and something in the weathered, bearded face told him that the Dwarf knew far more than he�d been told. A warm grin split Legolas�s features. �Thank you, Gimli.�

�But you Elves are an odd lot.�

�What particular oddity has caught your censure this time?�

�Not my censure; my concern only,� Gimli replied. �You give your heart too freely.�

��Giving� implies a transfer of ownership, a transfer of care; that is not easily done, nor is it especially wise to do so. No, my heart belongs to me, Gimli � or at the most, to you.�

Gimli pursed his lips and let out an amused snort, hearing the jest in his friend�s voice. �Keep it. You pull your own weight, Elf,� he said. �I have enough to carry as it is.�

Smiling, Legolas looked back out to the valley, watching in silence as Aragorn rode his horse from the dark valley into the sunlight. Wordlessly, he and Gimli turned, their actions in sync as they often were.

�So, you wish to learn how to wield a �common club?�� his friend asked as they walked from the overlook.

�Only because it seems to take little effort and would therefore be an ideal diversion for me today.�

�I see,� Gimli muttered fondly. �Well, a dwarf-axe might be too much for a beginner. Perhaps we could find something more suited an amateur.�

�An Elf-axe?� Legolas suggested.

�An Elf-axe?� Gimli let out a loud guffaw. �An Elf-axe! Yes, perfect. Where do we find one of those?� The two friends continued down the path, walking toward the gardens of Rivendell.