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The sun rose bright and early the day after Estel had come of age. The night had been sublime, and the morning after, when Legolas had confessed that he had fallen for him, was still astonishing. Estel entered his Ada’s study, still swimming in his dreams of what his life held for him, of all the moments he had fantasised once, those that seemed to be within reach now.
But the man who left it was not the same. His shoulders had been weighed down by the burden that his true name brought upon him, for Elrond had revealed to him who he was and what his destiny is. All the hopes he had envisioned were swept away in the matter of half an hour, and Estel Aragorn was left to drift mindlessly along the halls of the last homely house.
It was deep in the forests of Imladris, near the creek that had somehow become theirs, that Legolas finally found the human. When Lord Elrond had asked him to go after his youngest son, with tears threatening to flow down his cheeks, Legolas had feared the worst. They had all expected that Estel would be angry when Elrond finally revealed the secret of his lineage. And yet, as he stepped softly towards his trembling lover, he considered that it was perhaps not anger that had caused the Adan to seek refuge within the trees, rather, Legolas thought, it was hurt and pain from whatever doubts his mind had managed to devise.
Legolas approached without a sound, yet Estel sensed him, turning to face the Elf, his eyes red with the amount of tears he had shed. "Did you know?"
The question was vague, and yet Legolas knew what Estel was asking. Did you know that I was Isildur’s heir? Did you hide the truth from me as well? When Legolas remained quiet, Estel repeated, getting to his feet, “Did you know, Legolas?”
“You know the answer to that, meleth nin,” Legolas said, his eyes filled with concern.
A mindless rage seemed to come over Estel as he punched a tree nearby, seeking a way to let his rage out. The bark pierced sharply into his skin as the leaves ruffled overhead, and yet the pain was meagre compared to the throbbing in his heart. Had it been any time else, the human would have felt bad for having hurt a tree, but now his anger had clouded his good sense.
“Estel,” Legolas exclaimed as he rushed over to his lover, carefully holding his hand in his, examining the damage the Adan had wrought. Once he was satisfied that the ranger was not severely hurt, Legolas sought to reason with him. “Estel, please give me a chance to explain.”
“What is there to say, Legolas?” Estel asked, his eyes aggrieved, “Lies. All of you have lied to me.”
“It was done in a bid to keep you protected. You know the weight the name carries, it is not right to make a child carry it. We did not intend to see you wounded, love.” Legolas spoke, his voice coaxing.
“Yet, it was my right to know. I concede that telling such to a child was not right, but what of when I earned my captainship, I was certainly no child then. What of when I ventured far from my home, with the rangers, what of then? Can you not have told me then?”
“It was not up to us to make that decision, Estel. Your Adar deemed it necessary to keep it a secret a while longer. To allow you to live carefree a little longer. Surely you can see the love behind his reasoning?”
“Love?” Estel spoke, and his next words were surely begotten by rage and thoughtlessness, “Does he truly love me as his son, or was it duty that led Lord Elrond to take me in and give me sanctuary?”
But even as the words left his lips, Estel saw the senselessness in them.
“Estel,” Legolas exclaimed once more. “Please tell me you know that he loves you. That we all love you?” he pleaded.
“Of course.” Estel sighed. “Sorry, ‘Las. I know that you all love me. And yet my mind seems to linger on all the incidents over the years that could be used to stoke the fire of doubt within me.”
Seeing the anger dissipate, leaving only hurt behind, Legolas risked a step closer, pulling the Adan into his embrace, resting their foreheads together. “Come, tell me the lies that your mind is feeding you and let me help you see past them.”
“Every moment that I have lived, thought to have lived, none of it was mine. My life, my family, my home, everything has been a lie, Legolas,” Estel said, his voice breaking.
“Have they?” Legolas asked gently, seeking the raven-haired man’s eyes, “You are still our Estel, our son, brother, friend, lover. A mere name does not change all that, love, nor does it define you, your actions, and all the memories we share does.”
“Mayhap, in the past. But no more,” Estel said, his voice breaking. “My life no longer belongs to me; it belongs to the Dunedain, my people. How can I claim the Eldar as my family, when my destiny and loyalty must lie with my people?” he asked before confessing softly, “I do not want to lose you all, to lose you!”
Legolas felt his own heart breaking at the pain and vulnerability present in Estel’s voice. He pulled his lover even closer, as though he could hide the heir of Isildur within his arms for eternity.
“Claiming the rest of your people does not negate the love you hold for your family, Estel, nor the love we hold for you. The political side of our lives will get more complicated, but Adar lín will certainly have thought of a fitting resolution, and if not him, then Erestor would have come up with ten different ways to do so.”
That brought out a slight smile from the younger. Legolas counted that as a victory before kneeling slowly, “And you will never lose me. I love you. I have always loved you, Estel Elrondion, Aragorn, son of Arathorn. No matter the name you choose to go by, I love you. For I did not fall in love with the name but the man carrying it.”
Estel got to his knees beside Legolas, gently kissing the archer, thanking the Valar for bringing this elf into his life and vowing to cherish him and to never take his love for granted. Come what may, Estel knew he would not have to face it alone, for Legolas was with him.