Written by
Zhie and Maggie.
Rated NC17. Work In Progress;
The main characters are Legolas, Gimli, and Haldir.
“Maybe if we keep quiet, he will think this room to be vacant.”
Whispered Elessar to the elves around him.
There had already been two previous strings of knocks upon the doors, and
a third began.
“He is an elf. He knows us
to be here, Estel. You will need to
make a hasty decision.” Advised Elrond.
Voices could be heard now in the hall.
Gimli, most definitely, and a few of the guards had now approached and
were questioning the dwarf and the unfamiliar elf.
Instead of responding, Haldir pushed the doors to the room open, striding
purposefully into the room as he ignored those calling out behind him. His feet paused as he came to the edge of the large wooden
conference table, taking note of the layout of the room.
Legolas had his back to him, the other three focused upon Haldir.
The Lórien
elf felt a slight wave of discomfort at the gaze he received from the trio, but
he did not show it as he continued to advance, preferring to stop just below
Elessar at the foot of the steps.
Elessar stood, jumping down the stairs.
“Mae govannen, Haldir o Lórien!”
he said, greeting the elf warmly with a hug as he motioned for the guards to
leave. The King’s eyes shifted to
Legolas, who was backing down the stairs toward Gimli, keeping upon the king a
look that continued to remind him of the part he had played in these events.
Haldir, who was becoming more accustomed
to the former ranger’s sudden outbursts of emotion, gave him a hesitant
pat on the back, prompting the king to release him.
“Mae govannen. Many thanks
from the Golden Woods for your invitation to this festival.
You must forgive me, but I do not know the proper name of this
gathering.” His intonation caused
his statement to become a question, and he waited expectantly for the king’s
response.
In fact, the other occupants of the room seemed to hold their collective
breath as they awaited King Elessar’s answer.
“Yes, the festival.” Elessar cleared his throat as his eyes darted to
Legolas in desperation. Were it not
for his own keen hearing, Haldir may have missed the faint sound of Legolas
softly mouthing out ‘pre-harvest festival’.
Haldir was distracted, however, from any reaction to what he heard from
the sudden wide smile and booming announcement from the king.
“The Pre-Harvest Festival!”
Haldir’s eyes flitted briefly to the smirking face of Elrond, his
softly giggling daughter, and back again to the grinning Elessar.
“Huh.” Was all Haldir was able to manage.
“And these will be your quarters for your stay.”
Legolas explained, hurriedly pushing the door open to the guest chambers
he had brought Haldir to. “Though
they are not as comfortable as a tree, I hope they are to your liking.”
The Lórien
elf stepped cautiously into the room. It
was cozy enough, and thankfully not too extravagant.
The room was big enough for two at the least, though he supposed this
room had really been meant for Galadriel and Celeborn had they come.
Exploring further, Haldir found there were two other rooms extending from
this one - the bath and a place one could take meals or speak with guests,
depending. There was a third set of doors, this one leading out to a
small balcony, from which one could view nearly the entirety of Southern Gondor
in miniature. “The room is more
than adequate, Prince Legolas.” Haldir
assured him, setting his sack down
upon a table near the door. “If
you do not mind, I think I may take some time to myself here. My watch of the borders had been long, and coupled with the
ride, even an elf such as I requires rest on occasion.”
Legolas nodded. “Shall I
have you called for supper?”
Haldir suppressed the urge to shake his head at the younger elf.
He had brought along enough lembas to last at least a month - in fact,
most of his sack consisted of the elven bread.
However, it would be disrespectful to refuse to take supper with the rest
of the guests, and Lord Elrond would no doubt mention such an act to the Lord
and Lady when he returned to see them in Imladris.
Besides, thousands of years of lembas for breakfast, lunch, and dinner,
made nearly anything seem better. “I
shall see you then.” Haldir
finally nodded.
Another nod, and then Legolas exited, closing the door behind him.
As he turned to leave, he was surprised to see a slightly bluing Gimli
standing but a few feet away.
Suppressing a laugh, Legolas dragged the dwarf far enough from the door
not to be heard by the Lórien
elf. “Whooooo…I was afraid I
was gointa pass out for a moment there.” Gimli said with a sigh of relief
after taking a few deep breaths.
“What ever were you doing, Gimli?” questioned Legolas.
“We don’t all have the trust of the guardian, Master Elf.
I had to make sure you weren’t going to cheat.
And since I breath loud enough to be shot in the dark, I wasn’t taking
any chances in the daylight!” Gimli exclaimed over Legolas’s light laughter.
Legolas patted the dwarf on the back as they walked away down the hall.
“On my honor, I will not cheat at this game.
But I warn you, I do not intend to lose this little bet.”
“You may not intend to lose,” smiled Gimli, “but you’re going
to.” Boldly, Gimli reached behind Legolas and gave a sharp yet playful tug on
the elf’s nearest braid.
“Aieee! Gimli!” Legolas swiped at Gimli in an attempt to grasp the
dwarf’s beard, but Gimli had backed up against the wall of the corridor.
Legolas held himself back for a moment.
It would be childish, it would be inappropriate, and it would most
definitely not be the behavior of a prince.
But still, it was a matter of pride now.
Legolas jumped at Gimli, intending to pull the beard clear off.
Within a few moments, a dwarf and an elf were wrestling in the hall,
laughing madly at one another as they exchanged the worst known insults.
They stopped as they rolled into something.
Something that wasn’t hard like a wall - something that was more like a
pair of legs. Abruptly, they
detangled, and stood up rather sheepishly.
The looks of embarrassment slid into ones of joy as they found the owner
of the legs.
“Gandalf!” cried Gimli, wrapping his arms about the wizard.
“Mithrandir, what brings you here?” Legolas asked, clasping a hand
upon Gandalf’s shoulder.
“I am escorting two hobbits on a mushroom hunting expedition.” Smiled
the Istari, motioning to Pippin and Merry, who stood behind him, amused
expressions from the skirmish they’d witnessed.
“For some reason, I felt we should stop here.
I’m glad we did - I didn’t know Aragorn had taken to having
pre-harvest festivals.”
Legolas hurried the three further from the hall just in case Haldir could
still hear what was going on, then began to explain how Aragorn had just
suddenly come to decide to hold such an event.
Elrond lounged across the softly padded bench that overlooked a small
pond in the garden. He smiled at
the surroundings, knowing the gardening had been Arwen’s doing, and in that
way she was so much like her grandmother. He
nearly thought he could hear his daughter’s voice now, carried through the
trees toward him. In fact, he was
much more correct than he thought he was - her voice was indeed approaching, and
her along with it. But it was
Elessar whom he saw first, pushing branches out of his way as he appeared to be
making an attempt to lose his wife. Close
behind, Arwen tried to explain herself to her husband.
“But you must understand-“
“My darling, no.” Elessar said simply, flopping down in mock
exhaustion upon the bench near Elrond’s feet.
“Estel, give me but a moment to explain-“
“I will not agree to it, dearest.”
He interrupted, crossing his arms in protest.
Elrond began to take interest in the conversation, peering over his book
now to Arwen.
“How am I to plan a gathering if I am not allowed to do the
planning?” asked an exasperated
elven lady, throwing her arms to the sky.
“I do not care what you plan, but I cannot agree to this.”
The King of Gondor leaned back against the bench, interrupted by a hand
upon his arm.
Elrond cleared his throat as he gently closed his book.
“Sometimes, in marriage, concessions must be made.
Some battles are better won by compromise than by war.”
Elessar sighed deeply, looking first at Elrond, then to Arwen.
The she-elf smirked a bit, somehow knowing her father was supporting her
argument. Elrond spoke again, this
time to Elessar alone. “Now that
you are wed, you may find yourself yielding to that which your wife desires to
keep peace in your house.”
Elessar gritted his teeth. “Right.”
Turning to Arwen, he smiled lovingly at her. “I yield to you, my wife.”
To Elrond, he simply gave him a pat on his shoulder.
“Tag. You’re it.”
With those words, Elessar stood, readying to leave the garden.
“What? I do not understand you, Estel.
What do you mean, ‘tag’?” Elrond’s question was quickly answered
as his daughter rushed to him, settling herself in Elessar’s place.
“Oh, thank you, Ada! I
knew you would understand the importance of having Grandmother and Granpapa here
at the celebration.” Arwen leaned
over to hug Elrond, oblivious of his wide-eyed expression of horror.
“And since you and Grandmother can far speak, I assumed it would be
faster for you to send her the message yourself and spare the horse and rider
from delivering it!”
“I, uh, I do not think that to be such a good idea.”
Elrond said carefully, making an attempt to return to his book.
“Why ever not, Ada? Then
you need not return to Rivendell to see them.
It would be like a family reunion.”
Insisted Arwen.
Knowing to refuse would cause Arwen to send word another way, Elrond
opened his book and began to flip through the pages with great interest.
“I do not want Glorfindel to think me rude to send word for your
grandparents to come here. There is
so little for him to do these days, he greatly enjoys such visits.”
“He would not have to stay in Imladris, either.”
Arwen reasoned. “Though, I
would hope that he will grace us with a story other than that of his great fight
with the Balrog.” Arwen said,
crinkling her nose.
Elrond shut his book, looking over to where Elessar was standing clear
from the situation. ‘See what
position you have put me in?’ his expression seemed to say to the king, but to
Arwen, Elrond merely smiled. “I shall contact her then, and tell her she can relay the
message to Glorfindel as well.” Elrond
waited for Arwen to leave, or for Estel to escort her away, but she continued to
sit, staring at him. “Was there
something else, my daughter?”
“Were you not going to contact Grandmother?”
asked Arwen.
“Of course I will.” Elrond
paused, then added. “What, now,
my child?”
Arwen nodded earnestly. “I
shall await her answer. If I could
but far speak to her myself, I would have asked her already, but since I can
only receive her thoughts, I must be content to have you ask in my stead.”
Elrond tucked the book next to him on the seat.
He sat up, readjusting himself. Continuing
to stall, he smoothed out his robes, brushed back his hair, and gave another
look over his shoulder at Elessar, who was now speaking quietly to Legolas.
Turning back to his daughter, he knew he could not fake far speaking.
She was too wise for such a maneuver.
He would have to choose someone else instead.
The elder elf’s face suddenly took on a faraway look as he reached out
with his mind. “Galadriel…mae govannen…” he began, his voice clear,
yet soft, as it flowed from him and into the mind of another.
When he had finished, he looked around, and noted that both Elessar and
Legolas were gone. Arwen was still
staring with great interest, waiting for the reply.
“Will they come?” she finally asked.
“They will if they are able.” Elrond
told her, pressing a kiss against her forehead.
“Now, leave your poor father to some peace and find your husband so
that you may keep him from mischief.”
“Thank you, Ada!” beamed Arwen, returning the kiss to her father’s
cheek. She hastily retreated in the
direction Elessar had escaped.
Elessar had planned to continue to watch Elrond’s attempt to dig
himself from the hole he’d unknowingly jumped into, but a tap on his shoulder
alerted him to the presence of another. He
turned to find Legolas. The elf
peered curiously around the man at Elrond and Arwen, before giving Elessar a
small customary half bow. “Estel,
you shall never guess who has arrived.”
“The Lord Celeborn and the Lady Galadriel?” asked Elessar wryly.
Legolas furrowed his brow. “I
thought you had told me I should tear up their invitation and burn it if need
be.”
“Go!” Elessar hissed, checking first to be sure his beloved had not
heard the exchange.
“What? Right here?” Legolas motioned to the ground, looking at it
with a strange expression. Elessar
shot the elf a contemptuous look, and Legolas frowned.
“Well, I wasn’t sure. You
were being so bossy.”
Elessar grasped the front of Legolas’s tunic, pulling the elf down the
path, practically dragging him by the throat.
Into the palace, and still the king did not let go until they had reached
a study on the second floor of the castle.
“What was that for?” demanded Legolas when he had been released.
“You told me you did not wish the Lord and Lady to be invited.
I do not see why you found the need to humiliate me in such a manner when
I was but following your orders.” Legolas
straightened his clothing, frowning as he found the tunic was now stretched out
of shape by Elessar’s tugs and yanks. “You
may be a king, Estel, but still I am a prince - and have been since my birth.”
He added pointedly.
Elessar clenched his fists and his teeth, closing his eyes before looking
purposely at the west end of the room. “Elbereth
give me strength! Why has this one
not been called yet by the sea?!” Elessar shouted, hoping no one was in range
to hear his words.
The Prince of Mirkwood’s lower lip protruded slightly, then slid out a
little more as the full impact of the words hit him.
“That wasn’t very nice, Estel.”
Legolas continued to pout, then added.
“I have been called by the sea, you know.”
“You’re too young.” Elessar said, shaking his head.
“It’s true!” defended Legolas.
“I’m only staying because of you.”
“Liar.” Smirked Elessar, but he could tell by the elf’s voice it
was no lie.
“No, really.” Legolas
walked to the window, placing one hand to rest upon the edge.
“It is because of you that I stay.
Well, and maybe the dwarf. Just
a little because of him. But mostly
you. Someone needs to keep you out of trouble.”
Elessar approached him, placing a hand upon his shoulder.
“For that I thank you, my friend.
I could not imagine how uneventful and less celebratory my reign would be
without you.”
“Shall I attend to the Lady Arwen, then, and see what help she needs
for this festival?” Legolas asked, his eyes sparkling, though he kept his
expression neutral.
“Aye.” Agreed Elessar. “And
mind that she does not sneak in an invitation for Celeborn and Galadriel.”
“Aye.” Grinned Legolas.
Haldir rested comfortably upon the bed in the room he’d been given.
He thought at first to rest, to go into reverie, but he could rest in no
other manner but this in Lothlórien.
Feeling that he was not pressured to be as mindful of his surroundings,
he opted for his more favored method of rest - sleep.
It was not often that elves slept, as so few were comfortable with what
came with sleep - dreams. But
Haldir enjoyed dreaming thoroughly, and it was this final thought that he had
before closing his eyes and succumbing to slumber.
“Are you awake?” questioned a voice.
Haldir’s eyes fluttered open. Before
him stood an elf, not unknown to him, bathed in moonlight.
They locked eyes, and but a few moments later, lips, as the two embraced.
They were in Lothlórien,
beneath the towering mallyrn. The
night, as all in this land, was clear and filled with the glittering stars
overhead.
Haldir broke the union suddenly, anxious to divest the elf before him of
all attire. The other elf had similar thoughts, first untying Haldir’s
tunic and dropping it into the leaves below, then pulling down the soft grey
leggings and undergarments so that the guardian was as nude as his counterpart.
Again they kissed, fiercer now, and with inhibitions gone as hands roved
over the other’s body, lovingly caressing and playfully grasping one another.
Strong hands circled the waist of the other elf, and Haldir brought them
both to the ground, still in the midst of oral exploration.
Greedily, Haldir left his companion’s mouth and began to bite at the
soft flesh around the elf’s throat, neck, and shoulders, growling as he was
rewarded with pants and groans. He
felt himself throbbing at the reaction and pressed against the elf’s hip,
grinding as he continued his ministrations.
Haldir’s hands wrapped themselves into the long strands of the elf’s
hair, pulling closer for a deep kiss.
Until suddenly Haldir became distracted.
He did not know why, but against his better judgment, he turned his head. That’s when he saw Elrond, with an extremely far-off look
on his face.
“Lord Elrond?” Haldir felt compelled to stand, despite the current
state of undress he was in.
“Galadriel…mae govannen…” began the Lord of Imladris, not quite
looking at Haldir, yet seemingly addressing him.
“My lord?” Haldir looked behind him nervously, at first thinking the
Lady Galadriel was perhaps behind him. They
were in Lothlórien
after all. But he saw no Galadriel,
only a slightly curious and surprised elf, laying upon the ground looking up
with questioning eyes. Haldir
turned back to the intruding elf. “Lord Elrond? Are
you well?”
<”Your granddaughter is organizing a celebration in Gondor, and we
believe your invitation would arrive late if sent by conventional means.
Hence, I have been asked to relay it to you. Lord Celeborn is invited as well, and you may tell Glorfindel
that he may accompany you if he so chooses.”> Elrond paused, and acted as if he were now listening intently
to an answer.
“But…Glorfindel does not reside here in Lothlórien…”
mused a puzzled Haldir before Elrond continued.
<”I understand if you decide to stay in Rivendell, of course.
I shall return as soon as I am able.
But we would be delighted if you were to come to Gondor for the
festivities.”> Again, Elrond
appeared to listen, nodding and tilting his head accordingly.
Haldir waved a hand in front of the dark-haired elf, then reached out to
touch Elrond, but his hand passed through the other elf.
“Strange…just like far speak…” he murmured, pulling his hand
back.
<”I will tell Arwen your message.”> Assured Elrond.
“Namarie.”
And with that, Elrond disappeared.
Haldir shook his head, and turned around, only to find he was alone under
the branches. Sighing, he made for this clothing, planning to track the
first elf he had encountered, but found nothing on the ground but leaves.
Scrambling to the tree, he looked around the trunk, and still found
nothing. Nothing that he wished to
find, more accurately, for around the tree stood his brothers along with a half
dozen Galadrim.
Turning, Haldir made an attempt to run back to the other side of the
tree, but his legs became weighted as if he wore boots of lead.
Clumsily, he fell over the root of the tree.
And fell…and fell…and fell…
“Ai!” Haldir awoke with a start, finding himself upon the floor next
to the bed. Breathing heavily, yet thankfully, he first cursed men and
their high beds, then men and their notions of sleeping and dreaming, then men
again, just for spite. Vowing
silently to himself not to sleep again so as not to face another nightmare,
Haldir threw the sheets to the end of the bed, dressed, and left the room in
search of something to occupy him before dinner.
Notes