To be a Mortal in Love {Legolas X Aragon}

Prologue

DISCLAIMER: I don't own Tolkien or his work :(

*****

Aragorn's pov

It killed my father. But it was his own fault. He was so weak that he couldn't destroy the golden band even though he knew of its evil power. It couldn't me controlled by any man, elf or dwarf - it needed to be destroyed.

Petite hands rubbed my shoulders, relieving my stress. Small lips caressed my skin - but it was too gentle. I tried to stop her, I didn't want this.

"Shh, don't think." Arwen whispered as she kissed me. Her lips were too small and gentle, there was passion there but not enough. "I love you." She told me.

"I love you." I whispered, but it did not feel right. Perhaps once I had meant it the way she wanted, but now it was different.
We grew up together - childhood sweethearts, but decades had passed and I couldn't stay with my first love. If I did I would die only to know one love whereas she would move on again and again. Our love was a flame that time had put out, and I was the only one to notice.

*****

Legolas' pov

I remember the first time I ever heard of the ring. I was an elven child. I made my father tell me the story of the weakness of men every night after I first heard it; how it could've been destroyed and this fight between good and evil over. Instead the human kept it - and it destroyed him.

"Daddy! Tell me a story!" I cried as he tucked me in.

"Have I told you the story of the Ring and the Weakness of Men?"

I giggled. "No."

"Well, once upon a time - hundreds of years ago - nineteen rings were forged. Each one promising great power and wealth. Seven to the dwarven lords, three to the elven kings and nine to the rulers of men." He told me and showed his ring to me. I watched in wonder as it sparkled in the moonlight. "But we were all betrayed!"

"No." I gasped.

He nodded and continued. "A great evil forged one more ring from the fires of Mount Doom. He wanted to control each and every one of the rings and take their power." I covered myself with the bed sheets in fear. "One by one, he took over the kingdoms of Middle Earth."

"What happened Dad?"

"We resisted. The land of men, elves and dwarves won - all the races working in union. Arathorn II cut off the Dark Lord's hand with a mighty sword, which lies shattered in Rivendell, and destroyed him - all his power lived in that ring; but instead of ending the fight, Arathorn kept the ring." He said with resentment. "And it killed him."

"What happened to the ring?"

"It was forgotten about, and no one has seen it since."

"Will it ever come back to power dad?" I asked.

"Who knows." He said. "But don't you worry about that Lego." I giggled again.

"Night dad." I smiled as he ticked me in, and I dreamt of battles and power all night.

But now I'm older and I know better than to dwell on dreams. I studied the story, learning everything I needed to know. The sword wasn't the only thing at Rivendell - Arathorn II had a son, named Aragorn, who was stronger than any man I had heard of. He had been born into the throne but gave it all away, ashamed of his father. He ran from his kingdom and his title, not caring about the power like the rest of his species, and became a ranger - a protector of the land, known by the name Strider.

The prospect of meeting such a man intrigued me, and I thought more should be like him. He'd become a hero of mine, and now I had a chance to join him on a treacherous quest? No way in hell was I going to  turn that opportunity down!

I had to know if he was truly as strong as the stories told, or if the lust for power would destroy him too.