Love once.

Disclaimer; I don't own Lord of the Rings rights and if I did, Aragorn woould have loved Legolas and not Arwen.

Summary: Elves only love once, too bad Aragon forgot this tiny fact until it was too late. AragonxLegolas.

Legolas could only smile bitterly as he turned and walked away. He always knew that it would come to this, no matter how much he dreaded it. Aragon was destined from birth to marry Arwen. It was agreed back then. It was best for both worlds. Legolas had heard it a thousand times. BUt it still hurt; the dull ache had blossomed into a raging, stabbing pain. Straight into his chest and through his heart. But still, Legolas smiled and clapped while Aragon kissed his bride-to-be.

Petals fell onto the crowd and the happy couple. The general happiness brightened every corner of the city. But one concerned blue gaze fell from a father to a son. He had always protested the relationship that his son had started; not because the lover was male or human. Simply because it was destined for ruin. For heartbreak, and death. But now, it was too far gone.

***Flashback***

"Father," Legolas adressed his father as the King turned. Taking in his son's scared eyes and shakey appearence, Thranduil became worried. Nothing could shake his son and to see him like this....

"Father," Legolas repeated, dropping his gaze, "please forgive me."

The king raised one eyebrow and walked towards his son. A gentle hand raised his son's chin so he could meet the once proud gaze. Blue eyes, so like his own, met his.

"Legolas," was all Thranduil could say at the sight of the wettness.

Closing his eyes, Legolas could only reply, "I'm sorry father but it's done. My heart and soul has been given away," and a cool hand grasped the warm one on his chin.

"No," the Thranduil could only whisper as he saw and felt the truth. His son had given his immortality away for that human! A human that was promised to another elf. The world came crashing down as tears fell from two sets of blue eyes. Prince Legolas as good as dead when he gave his heart to the Ranger Aragon.

***End Flashback***

Legolas smiled and waved his goodbyes to the fellowship as he rode out of the city. He had been the first to leave, under the pretence of helping his father with matters of the realm. The false promises to return still had a bitter taste in his mouth as Legolas rode like the wind away from his reason for death and yet, his reason to keep on live. Gimli had wanted to accompany him but Legolas left too quickly.

As he rode through the fields, eyes blurred with tears; from his heartache or pain, Legolas did not know. Old memories played in his mind. Every moment of laughter when the corners of those brown eyes crinkled like so. Or the gaze full of love that was once directed at him with every look he received from the ranger. Or the caloused touch that once burned pathways on his skin. Legolas was lost to all things as he raced across the countryside.

Lips that demanded so much but never lacked in passion themselves as they stole every breathe Legolas had. Hands that claimed and possesed his body, yearning for more no matter how much it got. Eyes that flared with love in those days before the conflict. And whispered promises of love as hearts were given away. Aragorn had sworn that his heart belonged to Legolas, nomatter what anyone else said. Love, like humans, is a fickle thing.

It seemed like a lifetime to Legolas to get to Mirkwood. Home, then only sanctutary he had left. The tired horse galloped through the gates and Legolas jumped off like it ran. Landing gracefully but still stumbling, Legolas ignored the concerned gazes of the guards. Clutching at his chest, Legolas was panting hard, only saying "It is done," before collapsing. The darkness was blissful, erasing all the pain and heartache.

The guards surged forward, catching the Prince's body before it touched the ground. Within the next second, Thranduil was kneeling beside his son, tears falling. Touching the golden strands, so much like his mother's, the he gave the orders to take the Prince to his chambers.

The news traveled through the city like wildfire: Prince Legolas was fading from a broken heart. And so he lay in his chambers, dieing a little more each day with his father by his side. Legolas never awoke from the welcoming darkness that took him. He remained oblivious as the Mirkwood Kingdom packed up and prepared to leave Middle-Earth. As his father commissioned a glass tomb be errected in the city centre for him. Legolas lost all will to live the moment he lost his love, like all elves do.

It rained that autumn day that Legolas gave his last breathe. Teardrops matched the tears that fell from his people. Tears from his father, King Thrandruil, watered the ground as they layed him on mythril and crystal tomb for all to see. Dressed in silver, mythril and weapons with his crown on his brow; he looked every bit the Prince he born. Engraved on the tomb in both Common Tongue and Elvish, the eulogy was carved. Crowned Prince Legolas Greanleaf, Hope of the Elves and the Morning Star of Mirkwood, lay forever preserved with the Mirkwood brand of elvish magic.

Within the week, the city was emptied as they left for the Far Shores. Elrond raced through his lands, just in time to see the last ship sail. Shocked eyes stared as the dozens of boats sailed into the horizon, and Elrond felt a pang that he wasn't told about their departure. Watching, Elrond felt more alone in Middle-Earth than he though he could. Frowning, Elrond returned to Rivendall to send word to Aragon. Perhaps he knew from Legolas why the elves of Mirkwood suddedly departed. Eldrond knew he wasn't on good terms with Thranduil. It was an old freud that blazed more strongely in passing years, but Elrond was surprised he wasn't told.

It was during dinner that the messager rode into Minas Tirith and made his way to the Great Hall. Arwen's eyes lit up at the sight of the elf wearing Rivendall's insigna. The said elf bowed. The noise in the hall fell to almost complete silence as all eyes turned to the messenger. The light from the torches warmed the stone grey walls as everyone waited expectantly.

"I come bearing well wishes and a message from Eldrond of Rivandall," Harlim said, aware that he had everone's attention.

Aragon smiled and replied in the elfin tongue, "Welcome. Would you like something to eat or drink?" The elf shook his head and met the king's gaze.

"I am well. May I deliver the message?" Harlim asked, and he received a nod from Aragon, "Lord Eldrond would like to know if his Royal Majesty, Crowned Prince Legolas Greanleaf, son of King Thranduil of Mirkwood told you why all the elves of Mirkwood have departed for the Far Shores. Or if you have any infomation regarding the matter."

Aragon stared in shock as his jaw dropped. They had left? Legolas had left? Aragon felt a pang of pain at the mere thought of not seeing the blond elf. The hall buzzed with the new piece of gossip. Aragon shook his head, before asking, "Do you know if Prince Legolas Greenleaf has departed as well?"

He heard gasps of the rest of the fellowship as they realised that Legolas may be gone too. Without saying goodbye. Harim answered that question very carefully, "No one was found in the Main City. It believed that the Morning Star of Mirkwood has left but there is no proof." Harim hesistanted before adding, "Logic would dictate that Crowned Prince Lagolas would have departed with his father and his people. They would be relunctant to leave the Hope of the elves and the Morning Star of Mirkwood on Middle-Earth. Especially with the reports that he had fallen ill."

Aragon's head snapped upwards at the last piece of infomation. Legolas had been ill? Frowning, Aragorn thought back to before the blonde elf had left the city. Thinking back, Aragorn realised that he hardly saw his old friend, and when he did, Legolas seemed paler than normal. More reserved. Aragin cursed out loud at his selfishness. Legolas had been suffering right under his nose, and knowning the stubborn elf he would refused help, and Aragorn had not seen or done a thing.

"Legolas did not go to Lord Elrond for treatment?" Aragorn asked, eyes fill of worry as old memories resurfaced. Memories he thought he burried far and deep away. Harim shook his head and replied with a "No, your majesty."

Aragorn sighed and rubbed a hand across his face. Arwen land a gentle hand on his shoulder. "Please, eat something and take rest. I know nothing of what has occured. Only that, now thinking back, Legolas did not seem well before he left."

Harim smiled and thanked the King of Gondor. Bowing, he took offered next to the Queen, as she beckoned him to talk with her. Harim smiled. It was an honour to speak with the Evenstar.

Aragorn looked troubled for the rest of the evening, as the fellowship threw worried looks at him. Evevntually, King Aragorn of Gondor, excused himself and left the hall, claiming that he needed to think. Aragorn walked the corridors , silently and swiftly. Down winding corridors, Aragorn stole into the stables and saddled up his horse quickly. Aragorn fled through the streets, out the gate and onto the plains. At time, the city seemd like a prison and it was a well-known fact the King liked to ride in the open spaces. More than once, people joked he would have done well as the King of Rohan.

Grass paased by, but Aragorn was lost in a maelstrom of emotions and memories. Memoreis Aaragorn burried deep inside to stop the pain. Memories of bright, happy blue eyes and soft laughter. An open face framed by golden hair that hovered around freely. And a love, a love that Aragorn swore he would never let go. Brown eyes watered as he pulled the horse to a stop as he stumbled down. Vaguely, Aragorn noted that his guard stopped as well, but kept their distance. Falling to his knees, Aragorn punched the ground.

Many a year ago, he, Aragorn, had fallen for the Morning Star and Hope of the Elves, Prince Legolas. A love that he promised the blond elf a thousand times over was real, deep and true. And it was. It is. If Aragorn would have had his own way, Legolas would have been by his side as they rode through the country side. No kingship responsibility. Just them. But alas, that is but a dream. Lord Eldrond had learnt about their love and demanded an end to it. It was written when he was born that he, Aragorn, would wed the Evenstar to restore Gondor. And so their love had been servered, forced to a formal friendship as he courted Arwen. He did come to love Arwen, but it would never be like the love he had for Legolas. Passionte, wild, enflaming. And now, Legolas was colder, harder. His eyes were always fill of pain and a eternal sorrow.

Tears rolled down Aragon cheeks as he knelt on the ground. Aragorn had sworn, the day he broke it off with his blond elf, that he would never let the elf feel pain if he could prevent it. After the pure heart-wrenching pain in those dulling blue eyes, Aragorn swore that he would stop the look from repeating itself if he could. He had sworn on his love for Legolas and failed.

It was many hours later did Aragorn return to Minas Tirith. Walking into the bedchambers, Aragorn found Arwen awake with tears in her eyes. Meeting the gren-blue eyes of his wife, her words stunned him to the core.

"You still love him, don't you? I don't think that you ever stopped. I know that you love me but it's not as much," Arwen dropped her gaze to her hands, "it will never be as much as you love Legolas."

Aragorn swallowed, asking in a rasping voice, "You know?"

Arwen swallowed and nodded, "I fell in love with you all those years ago. Father was worried that I would fade form heartbreak if you loved Legolas. That is why he told you about the prophercy. He feared losing me to heartbreak King Thranduil never forgave him for forbidding the love the two of you possessed. I'm sorry Aragorn. I did not think his love for you was this deep."

Heartbreak. The word echoed with his head. Heartbreak. Heartbreak. Aragorn stared at Arwen as his kness gave out. He had forgotten. Looking into the eyes of his chosen wife, he pleaded, crying openly, "Please, don't say that... No, Legolas can't be fading... Not because of my love for him. Arwen, please tell it's not true!"

Arwen stared at her husband, the proud man on his knees and crying, and couldn't bring herself to lie to him. Her answer was something none of the armies of the Mordor could ever do. She could utterlt destroy him. She said nothing as he begged her to tell him differently. "Please," his soft voice cut the air, "tell me you did not know. That you did not know that us marrying could... kill him."

Awren said nothing, here eyes pouring tears. She had known but she had also known that Aragorn would not die from it. That he would move on with her. The only sound that she heard was the slamming of the room door and footsteps fleeing down the corridors.

The rest of the night was a blurr. Aragorn had gathered a bag of supplies and fled Gondor on horseback for Mirkwood. The only thing on his mind was the safety and the wellbeing of his true love. His gaurds rode after him, confused and worried, But Aragorn pushed forward, sword at his side for any danger should he face. But nothing cold have hurt him as much as he hurt at that moment.

Aragorn rode into the captial city of Mirkwood, to find it aboslutely deserted. Jumping off his horse, he ran into to the Palace and to the rooms he knew were Legolas's. The moment he stepped into the room, Aragorn was assulted with the scent that he could only describe as Legolas. The bed was scrunched up and messy. Books lined the walls but on stood put in the general neatness of the room: an open book lay on the bedside table.

Reading it slowly, Aragorn's eyes widen with every word. It was written by King Thranduil who sat beside his son as Legolas faded. It was an account of the last days of the Mirkwood elves on Middle-Earth. Reading about the tomb, Aragorn dropped the book and fled the room. He ran blindly, searching for the middle of the city.

Panting, Aragorn stood as he stared at the sighed before him as his own heart stopped beating. There lying encased in a casket of crystal and mythril, dressed in a soft silver was his Legolas. He eyes were closed and his face relaxed as if he was merely sleeping as mortals did. But his chest did not move. Almost as if in a trance, Aragorn reached forward to touch the golden hair. Just one last time. His hand was stopped by the crystal. And the tears started falling as Aragorn fell deside the tomb.

Soft words in elvish were whispered as he tried to get through the crytsal. Cries of sorrow from his very soul left his lips as Aragorn begged for forgiveness, and promises of love. Of words Aragorn had wanted to tell the blond elf so many times but didn't because he thought they could both move on. Aragorn so desparately wanted one last touch, one last kiss. He wanted one last moment with his love. The guards of Gondor only stared wide-eyed at the sight of their king so broken.

Not a day past before the fellowship and their friends entered Mirkwood with Lord Elrond. They were greeted by a worried guard who led them to Aragorn. The group stared shocked at the sight of a tear-stained Aragorn leaning against the crypt that held the Elfin Prince. Tears filled the eyes of the fellowship and fell. Silence fell over the group. Gandalf said not a word as he sighed in sorrow. The things they did to ensure the safety of Middle-Earth.

"Aragorn?" Eldrond called softly, breaking the silence at the sight of the broken King. Eldrond had forgotten of the love the two had shared.

"Are you happy now, Lord Eldrond of Rivendall?" Aragon responded coldly, his voice raspy and hoarse from crying, "Your daughter is safe from the danger from fading. But the one I ever truely loved is dead. But, what does that matter," and for the first time, Aragorn turned to stare at him. The group gasped at the dead and lost look that Aragorn had, "Mortals won't die from heartbreak. I will never forgive you for taking him away from me and engaging me to Arwen."

And with that, Aragorn collapsed. Worried, the guards surged forward, checking the King. He was still breathing and they let out a sigh of relief. But they could now see the words engraved onto the tomb;

Here lays Prince Legolas Greenleaf; Hope of the Elves and Morning Star of his people. His sword never failed him and his arrow always fell true. His courage saved us and his loyalty bound him. He loved but once, and faded with it. He fell by the Elfin Curse.
Rest, Sweet Prince. Loved by all.

Below, scratched into it by a sword, were the words, "I always loved you, even when duty came first. Rest my love, I will see you soon."

***Flashback***

Legolas panted slightly from the chase as two hands trapped him against the tree, smiling playfully. Brown eyes bored into him, full of love and mischief.

"I seem to have caught myself an elf, and the fabled Morning Star at that!" the ranger spoke out loud, as if comtemplateing. Legolas laughed before cocking his head to the side, his golden hair falling freely around him.

"Well, my Estel. What are you going to do about it now, mmm?" Legolas asked, blue eyes dancing. Estel's face turned serious as one hand moved to cup a cheek.

"Love you forever and never let go. I love you, my Legolas, more than you'll ever know. But know that I love you and you alone," Aragorn said as he kissed Legolas softly, chastely.

"Aragorn," Legolas whispered as his eyes mistied. Aragorn smiled and kissed his forehead and pulled out a ring from his pocket.

"If I could, I would have this be our engagemet ring, but for now, this is my promise ring to you Legolas. My one true love."Aragorn slipped the ring onto Legolas's ring finger before being pulled into a heated kiss by the elf.

"And I love you, Estel, Aragorn, Strider and what ever other names you use in the future. My heart beongs to you now and forever. Because elves only truely love once, and for me, tis you."

***End Flashback***

Aragorn returned to Gondor and produced an heir. He ruled for many years but his eyes were always filled of sadness. A sorrow not even his wife could remove. A sorrow that ate away of his heart, and when his son reached manhood, Aragorn gave up the fight to live on. His only heir became king and he was burried next to is love in Mirkwood.

And upon Legolas's ring finger as he lay there for years to come, was the simlpe gold band of a promise ring a ranger, then king, gave him. The matching pair to the set rested on the king's finger that lay next to the elfin prince beneath the ground.

***END***

A/N: What do you think? I love this pair and firmly believe we need for stories. Maybe next time I'll write a happy ending. Leave a review!

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