Pairing: Aragorn/Legolas
Rating: PG-13
Summary: A tight Aragorn POV of "Nothing But Death."
Notes: "Nothing But Death" and "Yet You Love" started life as two different stories and merged into the same universe somewhere in the writing process. I am not responsible for the way my brain works. ;)

They say you find your destiny on the wide wings of song, but I find it now here in your embrace. The voices of men are faint to me, and all I can hear is the elven-longing in your voice.

Come into me. Be part of me. Beauty touches and embraces you, and I am speechless at the sight of you.

Legolas of the Elf-kin. Beautiful beyond words that tongue can utter. Gladly would I stay here with you until the end of time, were I permitted that long to love you.

Alas, I am mortal. And the span of these few days is all I have been given. But the joy of your presence in this time is my delight.

You are light, Legolas. Light in my arms as a feather, and yet strong, so strong you could throw me across this room if you desired. Your skin shines even in the dimness with a faint elven-glow, which would light up the darkest night if you stood forth revealed in your power.

And yet you love me. I am the weakest of creatures, but a mortal man, but you love me.

It was only a short time ago that we first met, as you and I count time. Fragile days that threw us together in the wilderness, and the first sight of your face through the haze of my pain. You tended me through the long dark nights and bathed my wounds with athelas and your own medicine. You brought me to Rivendell, and stayed at my side as I recovered.

You told me later that you had long planned a journey to Rivendell, but were drawn out of your way by the rumors of Orcs. Following their trail, you came upon me, lying as though dead. Indeed, they had left me for dead, and had taken all from me but my clothes. Even my sword was gone.

And so we found each other and looked upon each other and loved each other. I bound my life to yours in the ancient ceremony of the Elves less than seven days after I first learned your name, and you have promised me a ring to wear in token that we are brethren.

And now have we taken that final step that would make us not only brethren, but bound to each other for life or death. You will not become mortal, and I will not become Elven, but in all other ways, you and I are one.

One. One in blood, one in body, one in life. You will share my days with me, and cut the ties that bind us after I die. Then you will be free to love another -- and I wish that being joy of you.

So, Elf, you have chosen to share my exile. To follow in my footsteps, to go where I lead. In exile or kingship, you are my beloved, and I would not have any other.

We go together into the woods on the morrow, hand in hand.

But tonight. Yes, tonight we love. We simply love. My hand brushing over your soft hair and your fair face, my mouth finding yours in a frantic rush, my body settling into the curve of yours as though it was made to fit there.

Your hand and mouth and body, in return, pledging wordlessly what we have already said. Our skin touching, and worlds shattering around us. The beauty of your eyes shining in the dimness, and the softness of your smile breathing against my shoulder.

Legolas. I whisper the name, and you nestle into me, clasping your arms about me. And I think that all the kings in Middle-earth are poor indeed, for they have never known the wonder of your touch.