Title & Chapter Number: Misfits 10/30
Author(s): - Author's Index
Fandom: Middle Earth
Rating: NC-17
Disclaimer: I do not own these settings or characters, and am making no profit from the writing and sharing of this story.
Warnings: Haldir's in it. Need I say more? /snicker
Betas: Circe
Cast: Haldir/Melpomaen
Timeline: TA AU
Spoilers: None
Summary: Orophin comes home from patrol, and brings with him a new friend.
Notes: Thanks to Teri, Jess, Kylie, Kissaki, Pira, Maggie, Gabby, Larian, Mirasaui, Larien, and Alex for comments, feedback, and support.
Dawn light barely stained the horizon as Haldir stepped through the door of his talan and almost immediately stumbled over an object lying directly in his path. Closer examination revealed the object to be a sturdily made, gray and green mottled pack that sported a design of small, embroidered birds on its flap. This could only mean one thing; the patrol that had not been expected until later in the morning had arrived early, and Orophin was home. Haldir swore under his breath, more out of habit than any real ire. It would take more than a misplaced pack to put him out of temper this day.
"Gosh, Haldir, I'm sorry," a voice spoke from the archway, and Haldir glanced up from the offending piece of equipment. Orophin stood in the semi-gloom, nervously twirling the end of a loose braid. "I meant to put it away before you woke up; I didn't know you were out…" his words trailed off, and Haldir shrugged.
"It's alright. Should have been paying attention. Is Rumil up yet?"
"Yes, he's making breakfast. Should I tell him to put on extra for you?" Orophin's tone was still uncertain, and Haldir threw him off further by offering a broad smile.
"I'll tell him myself."
The windows were open wide, but the table lamp had been lit to offer additional light until the morning sun had risen further into the sky. Rumil stood by the small stove pushing eggs around a skillet in a daze; he'd probably had even less sleep than Haldir but needed to be awake early this day in preparation for his leave taking on the morrow. The blue ribbons were gone, as were the braids. His hair was uncharacteristically pulled back in a haphazard horsetail, and it looked as if he were wearing the same clothing he'd worn on the previous day. Haldir grinned.
"Fry a couple for me?" he asked.
"Fry `em yourself." Rumil didn't look up from his efforts. In the doorway, Orophin sucked in a shocked breath, and Haldir suppressed a chuckle.
"Sit down. I'll take over from here," Haldir offered, taking the spatula from Rumil's hand. The younger elf nodded agreeably and slumped into one of the kitchen chairs.
"You're chipper this morning," he muttered, rubbing at his bleary eyes. "I take it things went well?"
"You could say that." Things had gone more than well. He felt sore, and lightheaded with sleepiness, but he honestly could not recall any morning better than this one. Melpomaen had said that he'd be over later in the day, and Haldir looked forward to that with a giddy elation that was not in the least bit quelled by the fact that he'd spent the entire night in Melpomaen's arms.
He divided the eggs between two plates and carried them to the table. A small platter of sliced fruits and cheese had already been prepared, and Haldir snagged a bit of apple. "Is there enough for everyone?"
"No. Not with the way you eat," Rumil replied.
"You can have half of mine," Orophin interjected swiftly, and Haldir cast him an amused smile.
"No, you just got home. Is there any more sausage in the larder?"
"Pig fat," Rumil said flatly. He fixed Orophin under his bloodshot gaze and leveled a didactic finger at him. "This is what comes of associating with humans, Orophin, and you'd do well to bear this in mind if you have any ambitions towards becoming a March Warden. First you make friends with them, and next thing you know you'll be eating pig fat."
Orophin's eyes widened in alarm. Haldir sighed. "I do not buy fatty sausage, Rumil, and you've never even tried it."
"Nor do I wish to. And, we're out. Orophin's dog ate it."
"Orophin's dog?" Haldir asked. Some of his good humor had begun to fade, and he held onto what remained with grim tenacity. Orophin squirmed, glancing down at his eggs.
"She's just a puppy," he mumbled. "I didn't know the sausage was yours."
"Well, of course not," Haldir replied sarcastically. "We always keep meat in the larder for stray animals, don't we, Rumil?"
"Oh, leave him alone, Haldir. I told him it was alright." Rumil managed a look of concern that went oddly with his disheveled appearance. "I just can't believe that stuff is good for you."
Haldir took a deep breath, and turned back toward the stove. "Tell me the pork roast is still there. Tell me that your concern for my health did not extend to feeding the pork roast to a stray mongrel, and I will be satisfied."
Rumil sighed heavily. "It's still there, Haldir, and it's all yours."
"Good." He cracked two more eggs over the skillet, considered the four remaining in the wire egg basket, and then began cracking those as well. "Where and how did you acquire a dog, Orophin? No, never mind." Haldir turned sharply, leveled the spatula at his youngest brother. "All I need to know is where it is, and if it's house broken."
"She's asleep in my room, and, yes, she is."
"Alright, then." He turned back to his eggs, mentally congratulating himself for keeping his temper. Closing his eyes, he called up the memory of Melpomaen washing his hair, forcing away the image of a small dog wolfing down his breakfast. Silence reigned behind him as he flipped the eggs and stared at them for a few moments longer before transferring them to a plate. The sun had risen more fully, flooding the kitchen with morning light and rendering the lamp unnecessary. Haldir turned, dropping the skillet into the wash basin with a hiss.
"One of these days you're going to crack the skillet doing that," Rumil said around a mouthful of buttered bread. Haldir ignored him, his gaze fixed quizzically on Orophin, who was staring at him in perplexity.
"What?" he asked, and Orophin gestured toward him with a slice of apple.
"What happened to your clothes, Haldir?"
Haldir glanced down at himself, blinked, and then swore. As it had turned out, Melpomaen hadn't had anything he could drape Haldir in, and so he'd been forced to wear the same clothing in which he'd arrived. The condition of those clothes had completely slipped his mind, and in the previously dimly lit kitchen it hadn't been readily apparent. Dark oil stains marred the material from the neck of his tunic to the closure of his leggings, some of them obviously in the shape of hands and fingers. Rumil looked up from his breakfast, stared, and then burst into laughter.
"Haldir, you did know you were supposed to undress before using the oil, right?"
Haldir opened his mouth as if to make some rejoinder, and then closed it with an audible click.
"Rumil, Haldir has a lover," Orophin announced in a tone of wondering awe, and for a moment it appeared that Rumil might choke on his last bite of bread.
"Yes, Orophin, Haldir does indeed have a lover." He rose from his seat, still snickering, and dropped his plate into the wash water on top of the skillet. "And judging by the looks of you," he directed at Haldir, "I need to have a talk with that boy."
His laughter trailed behind him as he ambled out of the kitchen, leaving Haldir standing speechless with his as yet untouched plate of fried eggs.
~*~*~*~
Haldir woke to the sound of voices and the yipping of a dog. Rumil and Orophin were immediately recognizable. It took him a moment to place the third, unaccustomed as he was to hearing it mingled with the voices of others. Melpomaen.
He leapt out of bed, reaching for the shirt that he'd uncharacteristically dropped on the floor before remembering the stains. For the first time, he understood why Rumil was usually so out of sorts upon first waking, and why he wore his hair down so frequently. There wasn't any time to braid it, nor time to look too closely at what garments he pulled from his wardrobe. Satisfied that his clothing choices at least matched, Haldir swept his fingers back through his hair and hurried from the bedchamber.
In the living room, Rumil was stretched out on the couch, a bottle of apple juice near to hand instead of the usual wine. Orophin and Melpomaen sat on the threadbare rug, and a small, floppy-eared black furball danced excitedly, if clumsily, around and between them. Melpomaen wore a light blue tunic, and Haldir saw to his horror that the front of it was now liberally covered in long, black hairs.
"What is -that-?" Haldir asked in dismay, and Rumil tilted his head back against the divan cushions to face his brother.
"-That- is Melpomaen." Rumil grinned cheerfully. "You may remember him from last night."
Haldir glared, and Melpomaen laughed. Orophin drew the furball protectively into his arms, and the creature stared back at Haldir through chocolate brown eyes that held only the dimmest vestige of intelligence.
"This is Peony," Melpomaen said, reaching to scratch the animal's head. "Come here and say hello."
"You named it Peony?" Haldir asked disbelievingly, and Orophin shrugged.
"She just seemed like a peony."
Haldir regarded the puppy dubiously as he approached. He saw nothing even remotely peony-like about the animal, which was now wriggling it's way out of Orophin's grasp. Melpomaen beamed up at him, took his hand and tugged him downward. It would have been an easy matter to haul the smaller elf to his feet, but Haldir settled onto the floor beside him, lips compressed.
"She likes you!" Orophin happily announced as Peony attempted to clamber into Haldir's lap.
"It stinks." Haldir wrinkled his nose. "And it's shedding. And, dear Valar protect us, Orophin, look at its feet!"
"What about her feet?" Melpomaen asked. He scooted closer to Haldir, leaning his cheek against the older elf's arm as he looked down at the puppy.
"Its feet are huge. This is not going to be a small dog." It was more difficult to hold onto his ire with Melpomaen pressed so closely against him, but Haldir could not completely quash the wave of rising dismay. Peony jumped up to place her front paws on his chest, tongue lolling. A streamer of drool descended from the corner of her mouth, unceremoniously smearing across the front of his tunic as Peony rubbed her face against him.
"Orophin." His voice was flat and smooth. It was a tone with which both of his brothers were quite familiar. Haldir closed his eyes, hearing a buzzing in his ears that only his brothers could provoke; it was the sound that he'd often thought would be the last he'd hear before finally going completely and irrevocably insane. The body leaning against him shifted, and he opened his eyes, glancing down. Melpomaen gazed up at him in perplexed curiosity, and Haldir swallowed, reconsidering his next words.
"Orophin." His tone was gentler this time. Orophin wore a hunted expression, but now there was also a trace of cautious hope. "Dogs don't live in trees, Orophin. Don't you think Peony might be happier on the ground?"
"You have to admit she wasn't too pleased with being brought up the lift." It was Rumil's first interjection into the conversation, and Haldir cast him a grateful glance. Rumil smirked in reply, tipping back the apple juice and settling in to continue watching the scene unfold.
"She's still just a puppy, Haldir. And where will she go when it rains? I don't want to keep her in a kennel like a human would."
"No, I wouldn't want that, either," Haldir said through teeth bared in a smile of almost painful artificiality. At the moment, he could have cheerfully seen the creature consigned to Mordor. He did not bother to ask Orophin where he thought the other beasts of the wood went when it rained; it would have been a wasted effort. Peony had begun chewing on his boots, and Haldir grimly refrained from kicking her. "We could build her a house. One she can go into and out of at will."
"You'd do that?" Orophin asked in wonderment, and Haldir nodded, not trusting himself to speak. He could already hear the commentary on the only talan in Lothlorien to sport a miniature house for a dog on the ground beneath it.
"Thanks, Haldir!" The smile Orophin bestowed upon his eldest brother was positively radiant. "I knew you wouldn't make me get rid of her. Rumil said you would, but I knew better."
Melpomaen wrapped an arm around Haldir's waist and squeezed, gazing up at him with a smile that was only slightly less brilliant than Orophin's. Suddenly, Haldir felt roughly two feet tall. Behind him he thought he heard a chuckle from Rumil.
"Of course I wouldn't make you get rid of it," he said gruffly, looking down at the wretched canine in order to avoid making eye contact. "She's cute."
"Please, Haldir," Rumil said, amusement evident in his tone. "There's no need to overdo it."
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