Author's Note: This will be a collection of stories that are too short to be posted alone. Each “chapter” will be one story. Most of the stories were written for various prompts on the Aragornangst yahoo group and will show different friendship scenes between Aragorn and Legolas.

This story was written for Prompt #2: “Rain” on Aragornangst.

Beta: Imbecamiel

Disclaimer: All characters and places mentioned in this story belong to J.R.R. Tolkien, and not to me. (pouts)

~ Reunion ~



His head hurt. The rest of his body did, too, and his leg seemed to be on fire. He heard someone moan. He was lying on something wet, and water seemed to be trickling down on him. Memories awakened slowly. An ambush, falling down a steep slope, a fight, pain…

He opened his eyes. He was looking into a grey sky, and a steady spring rain was wetting his face and the ground he lay on. He welcomed it, wishing that it would wash both the memories and the blood and grime from him. Turning his head slightly, he saw muddy ground, puddles and corpses of orcs lying not far away from him. He looked up at the trees, smiling as he took in the beauty of the spring forest. It had been worth it. Ithilien had been worth it all.

He felt himself drift slowly out of consciousness again. Faintly, he heard voices, seeming to come from far above. “Search everywhere! Find him!” Then there was only darkness.

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When he awoke again there were hands on him, touching and probing. Remembering his desperate fight against the orcs and claws trying to take hold of him, he tried weakly to move away from the touch and forced his heavy eyelids to open once more. He could not help moaning at the pain the movement caused.

“Do not move,” a familiar voice said, and gentle hands pressed his shoulder back against the ground. “Let me take care of your wounds first.”

He blinked, and saw a man kneeling beside him. The man had thrown the hood of his cloak back, revealing dark, curly hair that was plastered against his head and dripping from rain now. Stormy grey eyes met his gaze, and he could see worry, fear, and a hint of anger in them.

“Estel…?”

“I am here. Lie still, Legolas.”

Legolas did as he was asked. In the face before him he saw traces of the fright he had caused the man, of a desperate search, and shock and fear at finding him in this state.

“Could you not once find a safe, peaceful forest to dwell in?” Elessar asked, while he pressed down on another wound to stop the blood from flowing.

“There are no spiders here,” Legolas offered weakly.

The king glowered at him. “I will believe that when I know where Shelob is,” he answered tersely. “When I arrived, the first thing I learned from Faramir was that you had not come back from what was meant to be a short excursion into the forest. We left immediately, but still we were nearly too late.”

Recognizing the pain in his friend’s eyes, Legolas mustered enough strength to move one hand and place it over the king’s fingers, which still pressed against his wound. He saw the last traces of anger fade from his friend’s face.

“Just once I want to find you hale and safe, my friend,” the man said softly.

“I promise you will,” the elf answered with a weak smile. “Next time.”

Elessar shook his head, but smiled back at his friend. His eyes softened. “Rest now,” he said, brushing his fingers lightly over the elf’s eyes, causing them to close. “Just rest.”

Knowing that there was no safer place than here, with the mud and the rain and the orc corpses, as long as his friend was by his side, Legolas relaxed and drifted off into welcoming darkness once more.

- The End -