Stolen Moments

Holding Hands

(Takes place in the Mines Of Moria)

Elves were not meant to go underground. Especially not the Mirkwood type, the elves that literally grew up in the trees. So it wasn't really a surprise that Legolas had some aversions to entering the cramped, dark mines. Although he would never admit it out loud to the others, Aragorn could always tell when the elf was uncomfortable.

Unfortunately, the fellowship didn't really have a choice anymore after the battle with the thing in the water. They were sealed in from behind, and now the only way out was to go through to the other side. Legolas tried to shake off his anxiety and took a deep breath to steady himself before following Gandalf and the others. What he didn't know, was that Aragorn was following him from behind, keeping close to the precious elf in front of him.

They walked down, further and further into the ever growing darkness. It tightened around Legolas's heart, gripping it like a vice and making it hard for him to breathe. After hours or days, Legolas wasn't really sure anymore, of stumbling around in the dark, Gandalf finally allowed the fellowship to stop and rest in a small room they found on the side of their path.

Everyone seemed to be on edge, but eventually most fell into an uncomfortable sleep. Aragorn was up keeping watch with Gandalf. Legolas lay there on the cold ground wrapped in a blanket, listening to their quiet conversation, sleep unsurprisingly alluding him.

Suddenly, the conversation ceased, and Legolas heard footsteps approaching him. Despite the earlier warning, Legolas still had to resist crying out as he felt arms wrap around him. "Relax. It's just me, you're safe, I promise," Aragorn whispered in his ear, pulling him close. Legolas turned and buried his head against the rangers chest, trying to shut out the blackness that still threatened to drown him.

The rangers scent filled Legolas's nose and he found himself calming down as he took deep breaths. Aragorn smelled like the wild outdoors, and it reminded him of the comfort of his home, of Mirkwood. The ranger felt Legolas's body relax into his embrace and smiled. "You know I would never let anything hurt you," Aragorn murmured, pressing a kiss to the top of the elf's head. "I love you," replied Legolas quietly, the ranger's heartbeat thudding in his ears.

Aragorn's arms tightened around him. "I love you," Aragorn breathed, "Now you should try to get some sleep." Normally Legolas would fight with him tooth and nail on the subject of sleep, but Aragorn could practically feel the elf's exhaustion radiating from him. Knowing that he was safe in Aragorn's arms, at least for the night, Legolas finally let himself drift off into sleep.

After that night and for the rest of the journey through the dark mines, Aragorn never left his side. He always had an arm wrapped around Legolas or a hand threaded with the elf's. The gentle, reassuring touches grounded Legolas and without them, he probably wouldn't have been able to make it through Moria.

Touch is the language of the utmost comfort, and Aragorn seems to speak it fluently......at least for a certain elven prince.

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A/N: I know this chapter is somewhat shorter than my other chapters, but I hope you guys liked it all the same. I just had to do something to further prove how adorable these two are (and feed my hurt/comfort addiction). :)