Title & Chapter Number: Misfits 29/30
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: Haldir and Orophin talk.
Notes: Thanks to everyone who has given commentary, feedback and support.
Once morning had passed, the day crawled by painfully slowly. Haldir had refused to leave the talan, spending his day stretched out on the sofa, Rumil-like, dressed in one of his better combinations of green and blue. That he was waiting was understood, but that fact went unremarked upon, even by Orophin, who had spent his day repotting plants on the kitchen table after they'd finished with the breakfast dishes. Haldir had drifted in at one point, muttering vaguely about flowers, and that had resulted in an arrangement of riotous color tied with one of Rumil's silk ribbons and placed in a glass vase on the new family room end table. At different points in the day the flowers had migrated from the vase to the shelves beside the door, and for a while they'd also lain on Haldir's chest as if the older elf was not entirely certain what he wanted to do with them. By evening the arrangement had taken on a bedraggled appearance, and Orophin had hesitantly suggested that Haldir really should leave them in the water.
Haldir knew the hours kept by the advisory committee's staff in the royal talan as well as he knew the routines of the Forest's guardians, but within the set times for beginning and ending the clerical staff's routines were changeable, shifting by the amount of work apportioned them. The dinner hour was the only time set in stone, but Haldir found it unlikely that Melpomaen would slip out in the middle of his day on personal business. That left the darkening hours after the library was officially closed, assuming that Melpomaen was not staying late, that he had nothing pressing to do after work, or that he was coming at all.
The thought that he could take himself to Melpomaen's talan, flowers in hand, had crossed his mind, but it was an idea Haldir refused to entertain. He knew where Melpomaen was staying; that was information Rumil had given him, unasked, in his usual matter-of-fact manner. It was in the lower section of the tree city, small, and undoubtedly shabby, though Haldir had not seen it with his own eyes. He had a fair idea of what a student archivist would be able to afford, and the image that rose in his mind was not promising. His hands itched at the thought of a roof that might be in need of repair, wide sliding doors on tracks that needed fixing, and window shutters that did not quite meet.
The thought of doing those things for Melpomaen pleased him immeasurably, but his dignity would not allow that long, nerve-wracking walk to the Imladris elf's talan. He had not been the one to leave, nor had he been the one to return, failing to send any message either before his departure or upon his arrival. He had no idea if Melpomaen's presence in Caras Galadhon related to himself at all, and the idea of standing on Melpomaen's doorstep while the younger elf awkwardly explained that he was on extended business for Lord Elrond made him feel ill.
"Are you sure you don't want anything to eat, Haldir?" Orophin asked, poking his head into the family room. Worry shone in his bright blue eyes, and Haldir forced a smile.
"No, I'm fine."
He was not fine. Outside, full darkness had fallen. There was no sound of footsteps on the walkway; no indication that there had been any reason for him to be dressed in greens and blues that brought out his eyes, or to have had flowers arranged.
"Haldir…" Orophin said, uncertainty in his tone. "I just don't think he's worth this. You can do better." It was the first time Haldir's family room vigil had been commented upon. Haldir raised an eyebrow, but the expression was lacking its usual air of superiority and sarcasm. He felt hollow, empty of emotion.
"You think so, Orophin?" he asked, unlacing his hands from behind his head and pushing himself upright. "Maybe I'm not such a prize either. And maybe I don't want better."
"I wish you wouldn't talk like that," Orophin said, edging further into the light cast by the set of matched lamps on the table. He carried a plate in his hands, mounded high with pork rib bones. A small smile tugged at the corners of Haldir's mouth at the sight; Orophin had come over to his side of the pork argument.
"Did you remember to clean the table before you made supper?" he asked, and Orophin cast him a reproachful glance.
"Of course I did."
Haldir sighed. "I'm sorry, Orophin. It's just… well…" He closed his eyes briefly, then rose resolutely to his feet. "Give me that. I'll take it down to the beast for you."
Orophin chuckled. "The beast. Maybe I should paint that on the front of her house." He handed the plate to Haldir, who could not quite hold back a chuckle of his own.
"Indeed. I'll be back eventually, Orophin."
~*~*~*~
Haldir tensed at the sight of the figure bearing a plate of his own crouched down by Peony's house. The usual gruesome sounds of breaking bones and appreciative growls could be heard, along with the low tones of someone chatting agreeably with the large black animal that was beginning to resemble an outsized bear cub. Haldir slowed his steps as he approached, eyes narrowed as he studied the figure silhouetted by Ithil's silver light.
"There's a good girl, Peony," the elf quietly enthused. "I know you like beef better than chicken, and I certainly agree with you there, but there won't be any more beef for a couple of weeks." Greatly daring, he leaned forward and hooked a bit of gristle back from where it had caught in the dog's fur. "Here, you missed this bit."
"Melpomaen?" Haldir called, and the figure abruptly straightened and whirled, plate falling from his hands to land solidly on Peony's head. The dog seemed unfazed, continuing to contentedly crunch and growl while her benefactor stood frozen by her side.
"Haldir?" He said nothing more, and as the distance between them closed, Haldir could see the expression of anxious anticipation on the younger elf's face. Melpomaen's eyes were wide and frightened, searching Haldir's face hopefully, nervously, uncertainly. He had dressed himself in the dark blue leggings and black robe he'd worn on the day he'd thought to bring Haldir flowers, but this time the robe did not seem to hang quite right. It was too loose, hanging from his shoulders as if he were an elfling who'd borrowed his father's clothes for a game of dress up. Also, Haldir noted, the fabric was creased as if it had been folded rather than hung.
"You've lost weight," he said, and Melpomaen blinked, glancing down at the animal that was now looking at Haldir expectantly.
"I was going to come up," Melpomaen said. "I was just…" He waved his hand at Peony, and Haldir smiled tightly.
"She's a good listener." His gaze shifted down to the plate in his hands, eyes widening briefly as he rediscovered the source of Peony's interest. He dumped the bones unceremoniously, and ducked down to pick up Melpomaen's plate. "Here."
"Thank you." Melpomaen licked his lips. "Haldir. I'm sorry."
"I am, too, Melpomaen. Sorry."
An expression of panic crossed the younger elf's face. "Haldir, I came back because I missed you. I made a mistake."
"No, I didn't mean it like that," Haldir said, inwardly cursing his ineptitude with words. "I meant that I'm sorry, too. I shouldn't have been so… so…" he trailed off, eyes drifting toward the trees before swinging back abruptly to meet Melpomaen's gaze. "Dammit, Melpomaen, I just couldn't believe it was true."
"I know," Melpomaen whispered. "I didn't understand."
"You came back here because of me?"
Melpomaen nodded, and Haldir took a deep breath. For a long moment the only sound was that of Peony's enthusiastic dining. Haldir grimaced, suddenly aware of the ludicrous setting in which their first meeting was taking place. "Come up with me?"
"Of course."
~*~*~*~
The lights were on, but Orophin had taken himself to bed, and Rumil was not yet home. Haldir held the door, and Melpomaen stepped inside, glancing around curiously.
"This looks nice. I have to admit that at first I couldn't picture it in peach and melon and green."
"You knew?"
"Well, I heard." Melpomaen colored and glanced down at his feet. "You know."
"I guess I do." Haldir shut the door behind him. "I was tired of looking at it the way it was… everything was old, all of it reminded me of things that I'd rather forget."
"Like me?" Melpomaen asked quietly. Haldir bit his lower lip, his eyes darting away.
"Well. Yes. I suppose."
"What did you do with the old things?"
"They're all in my room. I couldn't quite make myself get rid of it all in the end."
"I'm glad," Melpomaen said. "I never meant for us to be something that you'd want to forget."
"Well, that's how it turned out," Haldir said harshly, then caught himself. "I'm sorry, Melpomaen. I know it wasn't all you, it was I, too. I just… couldn't understand."
"Neither could I. I hadn't planned for falling in love, Haldir."
"In love?"
"Yes. I never lied about that." He stepped forward and reached to gently touch a slender braid at Haldir's temple. "The first time I saw you your hair was braided like this. You looked so… proud and unreachable."
Haldir swallowed hard. "Do you like it this way?"
"Yes. It's more you, the elf I saw for the first time in the woods of Lothlorien." His hand moved from braid to shoulder, and then he stepped forward, wrapping his free arm around Haldir's waist and pressing his cheek to the taller elf's chest. "I missed you so much."
"We'll do better this time," Haldir said, his words muffled in Melpomaen's dark hair, and received a fierce nod in response.
He did not loosen his grip on the younger elf as he walked them slowly around the end table to the new sofa. Together they sank down onto it, their embrace turning awkward as they settled into a side-by-side pose. Reluctantly, Melpomaen released his hold, his hands drifting upward to press against Haldir's cheeks, palms meeting beneath his chin. "Erestor told me that sometimes we have to choose to accept some of what we don't like in order to be happy. Maybe I'm not having to accept as much as I originally thought."
"Melpomaen," Haldir said. His eyes flickered downward, but with his face held in Melpomaen's gentle grasp there was no way to escape the young elf's darkly luminous gaze for long. Their eyes met again, and Haldir spoke slowly, carefully, bringing words forth as laboriously as if he were mining gold from the earth. "It is not easy for me to relax, not easy to quit being the March Warden of `Lorien. It's not easy to forget things that should be forgotten. I fear I made it seem that you would have to accept a lot in exchange for very little."
"Maybe if I'd been more open with you sooner, we could have had this talk a long time ago. And things would have gone differently," Melpomaen replied, letting his hands drop from Haldir's face.
"Do you want to go back to my room?" Haldir asked, and Melpomaen smiled and shook his head.
"No, Haldir, not this time." Melpomaen's eyes briefly lowered, and when he met Haldir's gaze again it was through a fringe of dark lashes. "This time I want to go slow so we don't miss a single thing."
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