Amin mela lle, Aragorn. {Legolas/Aragorn}

Chapter 2: Death Wish

{TRIGGER WARNING: SUICIDAL THOUGHTS/SELF HARM}
Please leave feedback in the comments- what can I do to improve this story?

It was their ninth morning together and the four travelers slowly walked through trees of pine, most of which had been invaded by pests; Legolas thought he heard pained whispering, perhaps coming from the helpless works of nature that surrounded him.

Until they left the pathless forest, the Ranger and the Elf had to slowly guide their white and black horses around countless amounts of trees and rock-hard stumps. The obstacles became so frequently placed before them that Aragorn's loud grunts and quiet cursing echoed through Legolas's mind like a Lorien song from his lost childhood, that he could not quite remember the name of; and Aragorn silently envied his Elven partner, because he was 'so damn steady on his feet'.

It was not long before a swarm of midges pursued them (and before they finally got on a road), suddenly feasting on as much flesh as they could gather. No matter how hard the pair swatted, or how many tiny black dots were crushed into their outfits and skin, the midges would not disappear.

A pattern soon appeared on their faces, travelling down their legs and somehow making it through the thicker sleeves on their sturdy arms. Having been attacked for a few hours, Legolas let out a low cry of frustration; picking furiously at the itching marks on his face and catching Aragorn's full attention.

A growl escaped the Elf's lips as he stopped in the middle of the dirt road. Distracted by tiny insects, neither Aragorn or Legolas had remembered to mount their horses; but stood awkwardly at their sides.

But all was soon forgiven and forgotten. Legolas suddenly perked up, eagerly listening to every creek, crunch, and crack from behind them. A moment later Aragorn caught on, mounting his horse; and reminding Legolas of the mare whose reigns he had been clutching all day.

A Black Rider was near; Legolas could feel it, with every hair on his alert body.

'We are not alone.' Legolas accidentally stated the obvious, glancing at his partner; seeing that Aragorn was looking into the distance, he added, embarrassed, 'It's a Rider- that pursues us.'
A light shiver vibrated through Aragorn's spine, his hand longing for the shape of the hilt on his sword; but the Elf accompanied thought differently, galloping a few feet on his horse.

As the two rode side by side, rapidly passing thicket after thicket of trees and various woodland creatures, Aragorn's eyebrows were cemented in a tight furrow; he could not understand why Legolas made the decision that he did. After all, he was a skilled fighter by tale and shouldn't have been afraid of any Rider, being a swift and quickly-healing Elf.
Aragorn glanced at him. He rode with his chest rested on his horse's mane, eyes focused, and seemingly eager to escape the enemy that pursued him; but his bow was in his left hand and as he apparently sensed the presence of a Ringwraith, he noticeably slowed.
Legolas was now a couple of feet behind Aragorn.

'What are you doing, Legolas?' The Ranger cried, trying to strain his eyes forward.

Legolas did not answer directly, but with instruction; 'Ride, Estel!'

Aragorn frowned, lines deep on his face like flowing rivers; 'I mean not to fly. I'm capable of a fight!'

In return, the Elf only grimaced. He was now around eight feet behind Aragorn's tail. Legolas hollered, 'Find the path! Do not act foolishly!'
And with a look of pure despair in his eyes, Legolas disappeared from Estel's sight.

For a few minutes, Aragorn's thoughts were silent as he and galloped, frozen; but as he regained his feelings, anxiety rushed through him like a wave. He feared for the safety of Legolas, and remembered with a small smile, the flowing hair and icy eyes of his friend.

He knew of the path of which Legolas spoke, but his heart violently pulled him backward. It all became clear to him now; in the Elf's mind, he was too weak for this battle. Legolas only wished to protect him, and to keep him out of harm's grip and out of the way of any Nazgûl sword.

His partner's good intentions shone in Aragorn's heart like the brightest of suns.

Something that had not occurred to him came to him now; even Legolas, son of Thranduil, was not strong enough for a fight of this kind. And before this, Legolas had seemed intent on leaving. Aragorn pulled on hard on the reigns, a memory flooding in.

Chop, creek, chop.

Legolas hammered at a sapling, quickly knocking it to the twig-covered ground. Instead of quickly picking at his small victory, he stared at the axe in hand.

It appeared to be of Dwarfish make and was used for chopping wood, but what else could it be used for...?

He inhaled deeply as an end slid across his wrist as if on ice, leaving a tiny sliver of red behind; but he was oblivious to Aragorn's presence, who stood against a large carved tree, and who had stopped to gaze at him a few minutes prior.

'Á pusta (Stop)!' He cried, stepping forward and dropping his own axe to his side.

Legolas shuddered, tossing the weapon to the ground on his left.

'What be in your mind, mellon nin (my friend)?' Aragorn yelled furiously. 'You are immortal, an Elf for a reason!'; but Legolas dared not look at him.

Their eyes became glossy as if dipped in transparent plastic, and Aragorn continued to approach. Legolas maintained eye contact with his tool on the ground. Bitter sympathy gained control of the Elvish friend;

'Please,' he begged. 'Do not pursue death.'

And under his breath he added, 'I fear much already, your broken heart.'*

'Estel.' A small, shattered, voice replied. 'Your name is Estel. Estel-'
Legolas stared deep into the blue of Aragorn's irises, softly shedding tears.
'-Means hope.' Estel finished.

Tears welled up in Aragorn's eyes, his horse turning around with his stomach. Had Legolas gone back to knowingly risk his life?

*Elves can be killed by broken hearts.