Legolas looked down into the royal crib. He was looking at this beautiful baby, Aragorn’s son, who, already – it struck him – possessed a few of his father’s features, and Legolas was sorry to part with both father and son. It was only for a few days, only to make sure that he and Aragorn could live out the rest of their lives together, as long as that may be, but sorrow was still there.

Yet, while looking down on this child, even as he slept, he felt his heart widen with delight, his sorrow lessening a little. He reveled in the peace of his breathing, his sweet, faint smell. He caressed one tiny hand with his finger, and wondered if Aragorn’s son would miss him as well. Soon, one thought led to another, and Legolas sank into contemplation.

It had been but a few hours since the couple’s first morning together, and though Legolas was anxious earlier to visit this infant, he had not the time, since the question of their future burned in their minds. He made sure all arrangements were taken care of before he came back to this room. He had three days to spend with Aragorn before leaving, and he wondered where he should spend them, in which room, in this castle that would soon become his home. Staying with Aragorn was natural now, but then again, he did not want to part with the child, either.

A warm hand on his shoulder interrupted his thoughts. “Aragorn.” Legolas’ breathing stopped and returned to normal almost instantly. “You seem to always catch me off my guard here.” The man smiled at Legolas, then gestured to his son and said, “I really should choose a name.”

“You’ve had an inspiration?” Legolas knew Aragorn’s doubts in choosing a name for his offspring well, as they had already discussed this matter several times. Aragorn smiled sadly and said, “No, but I’m afraid that I shall not have one any time soon, and if we wish the child not to remain nameless, then...”

“Then you should simply name him after an ancestor, or another man you wish to honor. Tradition has its faults, but also its merits,” Legolas suggested. Aragorn shook his head, full of doubt. He was trying to decide whether his late wife would have preferred the child be named in this way or given an original name, and could not manage to think of a single conversation that they had had which would hint at an answer. Then again, at late, there had not been many conversations between them. Aragorn looked into Legolas’ peaceful eyes and swore to himself that no matter what, it would never be that way between them. He wanted to honor and cherish his lover, and share himself completely with him. Arwen was gone, yet she still mattered to him. Would she have disapproved of it, if he chose to honor Legolas, to give him a part in the child’s name? For some reason, perhaps wishful thinking, Aragorn believed she wouldn’t have.

Aragorn finally broke the easy silence between them. “How about... Alegorn?” Legolas couldn’t help his grin. “Alegorn...? As in a combination of our names?” Aragorn nodded. “I just thought it would be nice.” Legolas’ hands flew, as if of their own accord, to grasp his lover’s face, to pull him into a gentle kiss. “It is. And I like the sound of it as well, but I fear I have no right to have my name embedded in his.”

Aragorn laid his hand over one of Legolas’ and with renewed confidence, declared, “You have the right. My love... Sharing our lives means you’ll be his father as well as I. That gives you every right.”

Legolas turned his gaze back to the crib. “Alegorn?” The name rolled off his tongue, and though it was still followed by a question mark, they both knew that was the name. “Look,” Aragorn whispered as the young Alegorn twitched a little in his sleep, as though in response to his new name. Aragorn and Legolas both started laughing as quietly as they could. “Alegorn it is then, little one.” Legolas stroked the smooth cheek with his finger, careful not to scratch it or wake the child.

To be continued...