Legolas' Dilema - Aragorn
Sequel to "Legolas' Dilemma"
Sometimes when two people are talking, one person says one thing and the other person hears something completely different.
Rated PG, for A/L implications

Legolas' Dilemma: Aragorn
by SkyFire

Disclaimer: Not mine, wish they were. Rabid plotbunnies are mine, all mine! Hahahaha... ahem! Right. On with the show.

You know how when two people are talking and one says one thing and the other hears something completely different? *g*

Thoughts are in / /.

Aragorn came around the corner of a building on the seventh and topmost tier in Gondor's White City of Minas Tirith, closely followed by a mob of fangirls. A smile crossed his face as he saw the object of his search standing in a patch of sunlight by the tier's outer wall, the Sun that shone on his hair turning the fine strands a shining gold. Next to his beloved stood another man... no, a dwarf.

He vaguely recalled that dwarf from somewhere. What was his name? Gimlet? Something like that.

The new King hurried over to the two, partially-wilted rose bouquet in hand, vaguely aware of the mob behind him spreading out to block every possible escape route the Elf could have taken.

Legolas, his beautiful Legolas, turned to face him, an expression Aragorn couldn't read crossing the fair face.

"Legolas!" he greeted warmly, thrusting the bouquet at his beloved's face, even as he edged closer and once again got in a good pinch of the Elf's tender flesh. "These are for you," he said simply.

He saw a wild expression flash briefly across the Elf's face. /The girls were right!/ he thought. /He *does* love me in secret!/ "What say you we retire to my chambers now?" he asked bluntly.

/Apparently, the Elf has difficulty understanding subtleties,/ he thought to himself. /I hang upside-down over his balcony reciting love poetry I wrote about him, some of my *best* work, and he doesn't see it. I give him tender caresses at supper, and he doesn't see it. I get up before the dark is gone in the morning, pick him roses and wait for him, and he doesn't see it. And then he hides from me all morning. Maybe he can't tell that I return his love? Perhaps I will have to be a bit more obvious in the future./

"I don't-" the Elf said. He paused. "Aragorn."

/I love the way he says my name. Aragorn./

"It doesn't matter that I saved your life those sixty-three times during the Quest."

/Sixty-three? He counted! He *must* love me!/

"It doesn't matter that over a hundred fangirls told you that I love you."

/Just *look* at those legs. Simply beautiful. Maybe I'll start calling him 'Leggy.' It suits him as a pet-name. And he can call me Aragorn like he did just now./

"It doesn't matter, for you are fated to marry Arwen-"

/Arwen? Who is this Arwen?/ Aragorn wondered. /He has been going on about her ever since I followed him out of the chapel. Maybe it is some sort of game? He's even *more* of a handful than I thought! Now, if I could just figure out what he *really* means..../

Aragorn watched in disbelief as Legolas drew Gimlet into their little game by the simple means of sitting on the dwarf's lap.

Legolas was speaking. "-Gimli and I are... close. We have been since Lothlorien. And we are going away together soon."

/I see your game, Greenleaf,/ Aragorn thought triumphantly. /You want me to pretend to be heartbroken and sad so that you can make me feel better later!/

"You are?" Aragorn asked, acting hurt with every deceptive skill he posessed.

"We are," Legolas said firmly. He hugged the dwarf.

He *hugged* the *dwarf*. Aragorn, at that moment, wanted to shove Gimlet off the wall, game or no game.

"You wouldn't want to damage our relationship, would you?" the Elf asked.

/He said it! 'Our relationship!' He said it! I *knew* he loved me!/

"Uh, no, I guess not," Aragorn said, near-strangling with the effort to hold back his elation. /Now who did he say I was supposed to pretend to love? Oh, yes./ "So I love this Arwen, hmm?"

"Absolutely. Go to her."

/Go? Oh. I see. You want time to ditch the dwarf. You do that, beloved. I'll get your chamber ready for later./

Aragorn turned and walked away from the two, followed by the sullen mob of fangirls.

/I'll need more flowers,/ Aragorn mused. /I'll fill the room with them. And candles. And wine, and food. Oh, and I can't forget my poems. I'll have the chamber all ready by the time he gets back./

Aragorn tossed the wilted roses absently to a passing Elf-woman with long black hair who was walking with another Elf, an older man who glowered at the King as he passed. He started to whistle cheerfully as he made his way to the palace.

Legolas would be so surprised!

END