Author: TrinityTheSheDevil Rating: G
Genre: Humor, fluff
Warnings: None
Archive: Just ask.
A/N: Written for Tux's MC Challenge! (I have been working on Innocently Accused! I promise! The ending is being a twit. :twitch:)
Summary: Aragorn and Legolas have a moment before the coronation. Aragorn worries and Legolas comforts. Well, in his own sort of way.
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Aragorn fretted, plucking at the hem of his dress robe. Why were these things so itchy? It seemed as if every important occasion - and that is most definitely what this could be called - required wearing some Valar-forsaken clothing that clung in all the wrong places. Not to mention the weather didn't exactly favor heavy clothes. He once again wiped at the sweat beading on his forehead and attempted to calm himself before he looked in the mirror. Of course, there was no relief to be found as he took in his own appearance. His coronation outfit looked perfect, thanks to the tailors of Gondor. (Why he couldn't wear some light and airy outfit that King Thranduil sported was beyond him. Perhaps they just wanted him to suffer.)
"Ai." Aragorn muttered, leaning in closer to his reflection. "I think it's falling out." He tugged lightly at his hair - which seemed much lighter than it did many years ago - and glared.
"Maybe it would stop falling out if you would stop pulling it out." Legolas commented from behind the man, fiddling with the decorative belt that Aragorn was to wear. "Estel, perhaps you should think about hiring some of Rivendell's tailors to suit your clothing needs. The Gondorian ones here apparently don't realize that actually wearing these things would be next to the impossible."
"Legolas, shut up. I'm already nervous enough."
"Oh get over it." The elf finally gave up on the belt, throwing it across the room. "You didn't need that anyway. Besides - you're only being coronated. It isn't as if you were about to become a father, or battle a Balrog, or something else that actually gave good reason to be nervous. The people of Gondor already look up to you as their King, this just makes it all official."
Legolas frowned, then grinned. "And after this, you get to handle all the royal paperwork."
"How would you like to be banned from Gondor?" Aragorn said, turning around. "Prissy elf."
"How would you like Arwen to know who poured ink in her tea all those years ago. She is amazing at holding grudges." Legolas snickered.
"Fine, you win. But you get to be there standing behind me in case I decide to make like a rabbit." He paused. "Or pass out."
"Yes, you seem quite adept at fainting. Perhaps it's a mortal thing? No, no. None of your ancestors fainted as much as you ... "
"I do NOT faint. I pass out. There's a difference."
"Right." Legolas gave an un-elfish snort. "It's all the same when you lose consciousness and hit the dirt. Of course Elrond always finds some way of blaming me for it, as if I have anything to do with your inability to stay awake."
Aragorn sighed, ignoring the Mirkwood elf for the time being. His mind reeled at the thought of what was about to happen. All of Gondor had turned out to see this significant event - not to mention the parties from Rivendell and Lothlorien. To everyone else, it was a joyous occasion, and a relief to finally have a king on the throne. To Aragorn however, it felt as if he were five years old again peeking into his closet for the monster he was sure that lived there.
Legolas faced his friend, realizing that the man was no longer playing along. He mentally groaned as he knew that his little hope of getting Aragorn's mind off of it had just now been crushed. Of course, he never really expected to completely calm the man down. After all, Legolas was still just a prince for a reason.
Quietly sitting down beside his friend, Legolas put a comforting hand around Aragorn's shoulder. Thinking for a moment on what best to say, he slowly began,
"This is what you have waited for. Your duty, not only to your kingdom, but to yourself. Every step of your life has brought you further along the path to here; do not think about the changes that will happen. Think about the changes that have already happened. We defeated Sauron and as a result, the people of Middle Earth are free. Gondor already looked to you as a leader before we ventured to the Black Gates ... it will not change so much after you wear the crown. You'll see." Legolas smiled.
"I hope you are right, mellon nin. I do not want to fail the people of this city. If it comes to it, I can give the reign to Faramir ... and I pray to not be so bad of a king that it would come to pass." He shook his head. "And Arwen ... I love her dearly, and though it would crush my heart, I wish she would follow her people to everlasting life. I do not want her to whither away among the rest of us mortals while her family lives on without her."
"Estel!" Legolas jabbed him. "Arwen is quite old enough to make her own decisions, don't you think? She stays here because it would crush her to leave you! Go and be happy with her choice ... she has already made peace with it.
"Besides, the kingdom WOULD fall to ruin if you run around without someone to control you. You are a brother to me, Aragorn, so I tell you this in the most loving way possible. You have all the tact of a cave troll. Why, the first advisor who even began to bore you in council would find himself hanging by his stockings from the topmost tower! I only shudder to think." Legolas laughed.
"Very funny, Legolas. I am not that bad!" Aragorn winced.
"Would you like me to refresh your memory? Perhaps the time that-"
"No, no. That's alright. No need to visit the past."
"But Aragorn," Legolas smirked. "Erestor still walks with a slight limp to this day."
Aragorn made as if to comment but was interrupted by the blare of trumpets. Oh, no. Was it time already! Surely he had at least another hour before the ceremony began! It couldn't be time! He wasn't ready! There was still so much to think about, so many things he had to get sorted with himself before he took on the problems of a kingdom! He couldn't do it. He simply couldn't.
"Elessar. This is who you were born to be." Legolas stood up, pulling his friend with him. "Your time has come, my friend. Go to your people."
Looking into the blue eyes of very first true friend, Aragorn felt something inside himself snap. With sudden clarity, he knew his fortune, and what lay before him. His people were waiting and he would not disappoint them.
"I'm ready." He gave a stiff nod.
"Good. How do you feel, my friend?" Legolas asked as he walked Aragorn to the doorway.
"Uncomfortable." Aragorn pulled at the robe, grinning. "It itches."
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End!