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Story Notes:
This was one of the first LotR stories I wrote and contains one of the very first love scenes I ever posted online
Title: Firelight and Shadow 1/?
Author: Katiekat
Email: katej.webber@gmail.com
Pairing: A/L
Rating: G for now
Archive: Why not, just let me now where
Warnings: none
Spoilers: none
Summary: Sitting around the fire, Aragorn can't help thinking
Author’s notes: This is my very first LotR fic - the first I wrote and the first I'm posting.
This takes place post FotR - but outside the book and movieverse - after an unnamed battle
Completely unbeted but I did spell-check :) any mistakes are 100% mine unlike the characters in this story
Disclaimer: see above, I own nothing here.


His eyes were drawn to him once more. As easily as his thoughts, more often of late, turned to Arwen, his eyes turned to him. It was fair to no one, his heart belonged to Arwen but his body oh his treacherous body longed for another. Perhaps that was the reason his mind dwelled so frequently on his absent love.
There he sat, across the clearing by a small fire. Gimli caught his eye and raised a hand in greeting. Aragorn went to them.
“You’re just in time lad, the elf and I were just comparing scores.” Legolas laughed at this.
“It is impossible to compete with you Gimli, you inflate your number with each retelling.”
“Now now there’s no need to be getting jealous boy,” the Dwarf insisted. “Your skills will improve with age. One day you may even be a match for me.” Legolas laughed again and ignored the Dwarf’s boasting, the battle had been hard enough and he had no care to start another.
“What of you Aragorn, what number do you claim?” Aragorn thought on this for a moment for in truth he had not been able to count.
“Enough.” He said finally, “And more that the both of you. But the battle is done; we fought and lived to tell of it, this is all that matters now.” Gimli snorted, clearly taking a different view. He bade them goodnight and left, going in search of others who shared his love of a good tale.
Legolas watched Aragorn across the fire, the man seemed far away, and as the Elf watched him his hand strayed to the pendant around his neck.
“You think of her often.” It was hardly more than a whispered observation but it snapped Aragorn back to himself.
“She is gone.” It wasn’t an answer but then it hadn’t really been a question. Should I tell him? Aragorn wondered, should I tell him that I sit here and it is not she who is in my thoughts. They are so alike, beautiful, innocent, delicate. In appearance at least but Legolas’ strength radiates from him and he is no more innocent that I. We fight, we kill and we are not innocents. Yet there he sits and the firelight plays over his face. He looks…I want…Aragorn shook his head, the silence had stretched to long.
“We have lost many and we will lose more still in the coming days. I hope you will not be one of them Legolas.” Legolas watched him a while longer before speaking, the Man’s eyes were dark with a depth of emotion Legolas did not recognize.
“Kill me?” The Elf smiled, “They would have better luck trying to kill the Dwarf Gimli. With a head as hard as his it would take more than ten thousand. So do not trouble yourself with my safety, my friend.” Aragorn graced him with a small smile.
“Then I will not worry.” Legolas frowned, that strange light still lingered in Aragorn’s eyes, he opened his mouth to speak but before he could Gimli fell at his feet.
“Good evening.” He slurred a skin of wine in his hand. Legolas quietly slipped it from him as he helped the drunken Dwarf to his feet.
“Why don’t you go into the Keep and fall down somewhere.” He suggested.
“Be good to sleep under a roof again.” Gimli agreed stumbling off in approximately the direction of the rough-hewn walls. Legolas tossed the wine over the fire to Aragorn, who took a long swallow. He sighed appreciatively
“Not bad.” He offered the skin back. Legolas wrinkled his nose.
“I do not have a taste for it.” Aragorn set the wine aside, the mood he was in the alcohol could only make things worse. He had already caught Legolas’ speculative gaze, he wondered what the Elf saw, what he could read in his eyes. It was better if he believed that it was Arwen on his mind. Aragorn hoped that was what he believed.
“We should rest, sleep while we can.” Aragorn said suddenly, taking his blanket from his pack and settling down on the hard ground.
“You do not wish to sleep inside?” Aragorn shook his head.
“Too many nights outdoors, I would not know where I was if I could not see the stars. Besides drunken Dwarves always snore, but go in if you prefer.” Don’t go, please it is not the stars presence I need to rest easy.
Aragorn lay back, his eyes closed lest he give himself away. Legolas settled himself on the ground.
“I have always preferred to sleep outside.” Aragorn felt his body relax, for the first time in what seemed like years. He breathed slowly and tried not to think…of the coming dangers, of Legolas in the firelight, of Arwen, of anything.
Aragorn slept
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