There was not one mile they passed on their way, in which they went silently for the most part, when Aragorn did not know exactly where Legolas was. Oddly enough, he was also certain beyond doubt that the Elf knew at all times where he was. Moreover, they could also feel each other. It was as though a connection has been established between them, which neither could explain.

They would have asked Gandalf for an explanation, but the wizard was gone, fallen into shadow and fire. Oddly enough, despite Aragorn being far younger than Legolas, the years had given him experience as a Ranger and he took command of their little fellowship naturally, no one protesting his assumption of power. The only person who objected to anything was Boromir, who couldn't understand his practical approach in the face of the others' grief.

How could he explain to the Gondorian how much it had hurt? Gandalf was far more than a guide or friend. He was the safety in a world gone mad, when their love had to make way for the greater good. He was a knowing, understanding presence in their lives whenever he came around and, for a very long while, the only source of comfort in their lives.

Most of all, he helped in the days when Estel started courting Arwen. He understood, from Elrond's learned advice, that he had no choice but to marry a female, to enable an heir to a kingdom not yet brought into being. It could have been anyone, but for Arwen he felt genuine love and respect as a part of Elrond's family. He didn't quite know her, as she had spent most of his life in her grandmother's home in Lothlorien. Whether she knew of what had passed between him and Legolas, he had no idea and he didn't feel capable of dealing with the question and its possible answers. When he was out there, as a Ranger, he focused on his day-to-day tasks. When he was in Elrond's home and in her presence, he was over-taken by a sort of quiet fatigue whose meaning he didn't want to decipher either.

But there was consolation there as well, in the form of Legolas sensing instinctively his need for support and aiding him by getting the Hobbits going again.

As though that wasn't horrible enough, as though Aragorn did not have enough doubts about his decisions as their newly self-appointed leader, they lost Boromir as well. Aragorn was crouching over the dying soldier of Gondor, but he could sense Legolas behind him, looking at them with all the sorrow and longing they both felt over the closeness that they've lost.

They were awaited near the shore, but Aragorn could not move from Boromir's side. His own body felt too heavy to be lifted. His head, too empty with disbelief and anguish. Legolas was at his side before he’d even noticed his companion’s approach, wrapping his arms around the exhausted man. Aragorn gave in to the gravitational force that the Elf was.

Legolas kissed his cheek, recited softly in his ear an old Elvish lullaby about souls of warriors and their path in the universe. Aragorn wanted to cry and couldn't. It was too difficult, quite like everything seemed to him then and there.

The Elf kissed him again. Aragorn looked at Legolas and sensed all their torment and painful memories being pulled up from beneath the surface in their minds, the memories of the death they shared and escaped thanks to his lover's strength and love.

Like a mirror turning in a room and the reflection of a world seen from a distant window being revealed through it, Aragorn's pain lifted a little and Legolas shone in, a thin and pale golden ray of light. The man breathed a little more calmly.

They could not escape reality, though. They still had a mission ahead. Getting to his feet, supported by Legolas as well as supporting him, he nodded towards the shore.

To be continued...