A friendly trip 2

6.

That night he sat by Aragorn' side, on the bed next to his bed. His body felt stronger, and he sat up all night. He might not need to sleep anymore, and it overjoyed him. Sleeping like men was scary for an elf, as they know it means they're sick and weak.

Eventually he kneeled the bed to feel Aragorn's forehead once again. The touch grounded him. Even though hot and sweaty, his skin was incredibly soft. Legolas found himself wishing to touch it, and the thought didn't frighten him any longer. He had gotten used to those thoughts making appearances more often now. Unlike the men, this was very unfamiliar to elves. He knew men slept with whoever they wanted whenever they wanted, especially in the state after a battle when the rush of adrenalin still burned in their veins. However, he could never put himself in that position. It was dangerous not only for him, but for their friendship if Aragorn rejected his wishes.

He would never do anything to risk losing Aragorn. He knew his time in this world weren't forever, but he wanted every minute of it. He had never cared for anyone the way he cared about Aragorn. The way he needs him. It almost frightened him, the bond they had always had, from years back.

So, he caressed his cheek while he was asleep, because when he was awake he would never get the chance.

The next time Aragorn woke up, Legolas slept next to him on the edge of the bed, head against the wall. So, the man watched him, a tired smile creeping onto his lips. The elf's head leaned against the wall, slumped to one side and one leg on the floor, one leg stretched out in front of him, next to Aragorn. His mouth was shut, lips limp and dry, and his eyes fluttered softly in a dream. His eyes were closed in sleep, Aragorn thought mournfully. He was weak. His chest rose with soft breaths. He looked as peaceful than he did awake, Aragorn thought. Even in his most pressured state he just radiated calmness, and serenity.

Aragorn knew his own beard had grown more rugged under the trip, and his hair was messier than usual. Legolas would make him wash it the moment he was on his feet, he thought, even if he had to drag him to water. That was his last thought before he fell back asleep with a tired smile, his mind drifting back into the painless void.

When Legolas awoke Aragorn was watching him, but the moment their eyes met Legolas looked down like the contact burned him. In a way it did. Aragorn breathed in deeply and rubbed his face before smiling. "Hey." He said softly. Legolas smiled back softly. He felt ashamed looking at the man, and avoided his eyes like they would turn him to stone.

"I'm sorry I hurt you Estel."

"What are you talking about?" His words were still dark, and still a tiny bit slurred. It made Legolas feel weird. Aragorn was always so strong, and now his voice failed him.

Legolas could not see his face, but he was sure he had that concerned frown of his on it. He swallowed the thick ball in his throat. "I hurt you."

Aragorn grimaced. "Legolas...you did the best you could. Do not blame yourself for that..."

Legolas closed his eyes then, not even giving himself the privilege of looking at the man he had hurt not once, but twice, even from the corner of his vision. "You got hurt because of me, Estel. Twice now."

"And I would again." The man said in a voice that told Legolas he was serious, and Legolas almost made a desperate noise in the back of his throat. "A thousand times."

"Are you tired? Do you wish to sleep?" Legolas then realized how tired the man was, and how much himself wanted out of this conversation to the point of rambling. He felt naked. Exposed. "I can leave..."

What Aragorn said then, in a surprisingly soft voice, made him stomach drop. "Please stay."

He looked at the man on the bed, trying to think if he was serious, or if this was a joke. As he found the man looking quite serious, with a little fear in his eyes, he couldn't refuse him. The relieved smile Aragorn gave him in return made his whole chest flutter, like a young silly girl's. How could he refuse, when the man asked so nicely?

"I want you here, Legolas. You make me feel safe."

"How do I make you feel safe Estel? I could not protect you."

"You still make me feel safe." The way Aragorn made Legolas feel safe the rare time when they embraced. He refused to go back to those thoughts he had earlier, but they prayed their way into his throbbing forehead. The way Aragorn made Legolas, a warrior, feel safe in his arms was a childish thought. The way Legolas, who never craved or needed touch from growing up neglected or punished for his emotions let Aragorn embrace him, and how the man made him feel safe knowing his past was an invasive thought he didn't want in that moment. His father certainly never did make him feel safe, though Legolas could never blame him. He lost his wife the same day Legolas lost his mother. They both suffered in silence. He had stopped asking for hugs very quickly after that first scolding only days after this mother had died. Why all of these thoughts hit him now he didn't know. He was more emotional than he ever was. It was like years of pain and stress was released today. Like this accident caused every wall to crumble. Perhaps, it was needed.

The elf felt like he blushed at Aragorn's words, but not from the compliment itself. He was not used to taking openly about his feelings. Even with Aragorn, who knew him better than anyone, he usually avoided it. He was not raised like Aragorn was, after all. Legolas respected Elrond, and was not ashamed of sometimes wishing he had raised him instead. Aragorn respected that, and never made him uncomfortable by telling him these things, however this time Legolas could not blame him. It warmed him, even though it made him want to smother the man with the pillow he was resting his head on.

"Also, I would like you to stretch out your legs before you get a cramp."

"I'm alright Estel."

"Legolas. Please." How could he refuse now when the man's literally begging him?

So Legolas carefully moved closer to the man to stretch out both of his sore legs on the bed, back against the wall. He tried to calm his beating heart. He felt the warmth of Aragorn's shoulder against his thigh, and it caused a mild panic. In his mind touch almost meant punishment. He started rubbing his legs through the soft pants, trying to ease the sore after hours in the same position. Aragorn smiled as they settled comfortably, and Legolas eyes fell shut to avoid looking at the man. It still hurt him, and he was sure the guilt would haunt him for a long time. He leaned his head back against the wall again, trying to relax in the presence of his friend. A friend who did not punish him for touching, he reminded himself. Aragorn was still safe.

"You do not want to lie down? That looks like it's hurting your neck. There's place..."

Legolas looked at the man, his heart already racing. How could he lie down with Aragorn, a man, in the same bed? His father would have his head. Then he though that his father would never know of this. Also, why should he? Why should he have the power over Legolas still, to this day? So when Aragorn asked him, how could he refuse? His father would not make him turn away the comfort he needed in this moment. That would be silly. He almost did lay down, but in the end his courage failed him.

"No Estel. I'll sleep in the other bed. This one's yours."

The man nodded, respecting that, and closed his eyes again as Legolas rose from the bed to walk over to the other one. He wanted to go back and lay down next to the man, but couldn't. Something stopped him. Something stronger than the need to go against his father. He watched Aragorn for a moment instead, thinking how it would feel to sleep so close to him, to feel the warmth from his body, before he leaned his head back to stare at the ceiling. He would not sleep tonight, as he felt his strength returning.