Title & Chapter Number: The Weeping of the Trees (Part 1 of the 'Pilgrim' story arc) 5/12
Author(s): - Author's Index
Website: The Woodland Chronicles
Fandom: Tolkien
Rating: NC-17
Disclaimer: Middle-earth and all its inhabitants are Tolkien's, not mine. I'd risk bankruptcy to own Legolas, though. How much would he cost me? Would they give me Haldir as a bonus? Or at least for a reduced price... A girl can dream, right?
Warnings: Incest! Don't like it? Don't read it! Simple. Also: consensual bondage, heavy sap, and angst.
Betas: Jilly! You rock! Yes, you do!
Cast: Elladan/Elrohir, slightly Legolas/Thranduil, Elladan/Elrohir/OC, Elladan/Elrohir/Thranduil implied. Oh, and Haldir's there, too. :-)
Timeline: Third Age, approx. 440 years prior to the Fellowship.
Spoilers: Nope, I don't think so.
Summary: Elladan and Elrohir travel to King Thranduil's court in Mirkwood to attend the feast celebrating Legolas's coming of age. Not only will this event change the young Prince's life forever, but that of several other Elves as well.
Notes: The description of Haldir's weapons is based on the movie props.
Dedicated to Elisa and Jilly. You have both inspired me, in your own way. Thanks!
Chapter 5 - Marchwarden
Mirkwood, July 2580, T.A.
More guests arrived in the week preceding the ceremony, and it was a happy gathering of Elves from all over Middle-earth. Legolas faced them all bravely, but Thranduil could tell that his son was a bit intimidated by the large numbers of Elves suddenly crowding the palace. To Legolas's joy, Elladan and Elrohir continued to spend time with him like they'd been doing before, and he was thankful for their companionship. It gave him the opportunity to be away from the cheerful chaos in the palace now and then, as his father was busy receiving the guests and maintaining the political and friendly bonds between the elven realms.
One of the last parties to arrive was an assembly of approximately twenty Elves from Lórien. Legolas gaped at them in awe: the delegation from the Golden Wood, sent by the legendary Lord Celeborn and Lady Galadriel. Some of them were clearly of a high political rank, official representatives of the Lord and Lady and their Council; their velvet robes speaking of their importance. The others formed their guard, clad in more practical clothing. The wrappings of the fabric were unfamiliar to Legolas, and he was as rapt by them as he had been by the twins' robes. The guards' leggings, tunics and jerkins were different shades of smooth grey; to blend in with their natural environment, Legolas knew, for the bark of the trees in Lórien was grey. The guards were all tall and radiated strength and agility; elegant, curved longswords hung by their sides. Their bows had a rounder curve than any bow Legolas had ever seen, and their arrows were topped with long, white feathers. It was all foreign and exciting. As Legolas was being introduced to the high officials, he had a hard time keeping his eyes off the guards and their strange clothes and weapons.
While Thranduil inquired after the recent events in Lórien, Legolas eyed the guards more closely. They caught him staring and smiled, elbowing each other in the ribs. Legolas felt his face grow hot and lowered his eyes; they probably thought him just a little kid, a princeling. One of the guards caught him blushing and one look from him immediately stopped the others from whispering together. Legolas guessed that he was the captain of the guard, although he was clad in exactly the same clothing as his men to make his rank a secret to the enemy.
After the silent reprimand, the guards bowed their heads to Legolas in greeting and eyed him more friendly. Their captain bowed his head as well, and placed a large but slender hand over his heart in greeting as he stepped forward. "Forgive my men, Prince Legolas," he said in a melodious voice. "The long and exhausting journey hither has asked her toll, I'm afraid. I suspect that they became a bit nervous, like young maidens, when the fair Prince of Mirkwood set his eyes on them."
Now it was the guards' turn to blush. When Legolas laughed, the other Elf started to smile, too. He was attractive, Legolas realized. Yet his attractiveness was of an uncommon sort, for an Elf; one would rather call him handsome than fair. Then Legolas's nose sensed something; the unmistakable scent of blood. His eyes searched the Elf in front of him.
"You are wounded!" he said, pointing at the Elf's arm. A dark stain marked the sleeve, just above the elbow. A tear in the dark fabric revealed a crimson red gash in pale skin. It had to be a fresh wound.
The guard's eyes went from Legolas's face to his arm and back again. "'Tis but a scratch, my prince," he said with a smile.
"What happened?" Legolas asked.
"Orcs," the other said. "They crossed our path this morning; how unfortunate for them. The one who did this, never got the time to boast about it." He patted the hilt of his sword.
Legolas laughed again. "But you must see a healer," he said then. "Orc blades can be poisoned..."
"This one wasn't," the Elf said, "or I would have smelled it. But I will see a healer if it pleases you, my prince."
Legolas nodded, then spontaneously asked, "What is your name?"
The Elf eyed him with mild surprise, but he smiled and said, "Haldir, my prince... My name is Haldir."
"Welcome, Haldir," Legolas said, "... in Mirkwood. I hope that you and your men will find rest here after your long journey."
"I do not doubt that, Prince Legolas," Haldir said with a warm smile. "Thank you! But until our departure, our swords and bows will serve Mirkwood, if needed."
"Let us hope we will have no need for them," Thranduil said as he joined them. "Welcome, Haldir!"
"Your Majesty." Haldir bowed low, and the other guards did the same.
"What did I hear?" Thranduil furrowed his brow. "You were attacked by Orcs this morning?"
"Yes, sire." The smile had disappeared from Haldir's face. "Approximately twenty miles to the south. Thirty-six we killed, three managed to escape."
"Where to?"
"South-west, sire. In the direction of the Tower."
The King nodded slowly. Then he smiled. "My son is right, Haldir; let a healer take care of that wound. You are of no use to Mirkwood with an injured sword arm."
Haldir smiled. "As you wish, my lord Thranduil." Before following a servant inside, he bowed again, both for father and son.
~*~*~*~
The day of Legolas's majority ceremony came bright and fair. Preparations were in full swing and Legolas thought he was going to collapse under all the attention he received. So when he found a moment to escape, shortly after noon, he was more than glad. He decided to seek some solitude in the royal gardens. As he walked there over the well-kept paths in a leisurely pace, he let out a sigh of relief. Finally some rest. Varda, what he wouldn't be relieved when this circus was finally over. He knew he should be excited that he was about to leave childhood behind him and become an adult, but in fact, it was all the same to him.
And why? He had no idea. Maybe because his mother wasn't there to celebrate it together with him and his father? He'd talked about this with the twins, and they said that this was very possible.
"We know what it's like," Elrohir said. "After the loss of mother, we cared for nothing. It's only natural that you miss her, on this occasion more than ever."
"Give it time, Legolas," Elladan said. "Do not force yourself to feel things you don't feel. Just smile throughout the entire thing, and it will be over before you know it. Believe me," he winked, "the ceremony is not all that great an event it's propped up to be. I barely remember ours."
"Because you were soaked," Elrohir smirked, at which he received a playful punch in the stomach.
Legolas just smiled, a little sad. The twins were blessed to have each other. Then again, Legolas was far from alone in this; he had his father after all. Something he was thankful for every day.
Legolas then found that he wasn't alone in the gardens. Haldir of Lórien was there, too; he sat on a bench facing the pond and attended to his weapons. Apparently he'd preferred to do so in solitude. His tall sword and bow stood propped against the bench, his quiver lay on his lap and he was busy inspecting his arrows, taking them in his hands one by one, lifting them to eye-height and running his fingers along the shaft and feathers. Being the experienced, trained guardian he was, he soon became aware of Legolas's presence, and he turned slightly on his bench.
"Prince Legolas," he said, and he stood to face him. Inclining his blond head, Haldir continued, "What a surprise to see you here so unexpectedly."
"Forgive me, Haldir," Legolas said, "I did not mean to disturb you."
"You misunderstand me, my prince," Haldir smiled gently. "When I said that it was a surprise to see you, I meant a *pleasant* surprise."
Legolas returned the smile. "How is your arm?" he inquired then.
"Healing quickly, thanks to the skills of your healers. A simple bandage and some disinfecting balm were sufficient." He motioned for his weapons. "I should ask *you* for forgiveness, Prince Legolas, for bringing weapons into these lovely gardens."
"You are forgiven," Legolas said. "Did you prefer the solitude over the company of your men?"
Haldir smiled. "The solitude, yes... But also the peacefulness of this place. It is both soothing and energizing."
"Then we came here with the same intentions," Legolas said.
"Were you seeking solitude?" Haldir looked at him questioningly.
"And peacefulness." Legolas laughed. "The palace is a madhouse."
"I see." Haldir laughed too. "Perfectly understandable."
Legolas motioned for the bench uncertainly. "May I sit with you for a moment?"
"Certainly, my prince," Haldir said, and they sat down side by side. Haldir wanted to put his quiver aside, but Legolas reached out his hand to stop him.
"Don't let my presence keep you from continuing," Legolas said. "I like to watch."
"Do you have a love for archery, Prince Legolas?" Haldir asked as he resumed the inspections of his arrows.
"I take delight in the lessons," Legolas replied, "and my tutor is satisfied with my progression."
"And when will you start with swordfighting lessons?"
"Soon, I think," Legolas said. "Although I think that father will want me to start with smaller things... daggers, and hunting knives." His eyes automatically drifted to Haldir's longsword. It was truly stunning, as far as a weapon could be beautiful. The long, exquisitely crafted hilt was actually made of two different types of wood, one dark of color, the other lighter. The two curled around each other like ribbons, over the entire length of the hilt. The blade had a slight curve to it, and was white and gleamy in the midday sun.
Haldir reached down and took his sword in his hands, then offered it carefully to Legolas, who eyed him uncertainly. When Haldir gave him an encouraging nod, he received the weapon in his hands and eyed it from all angles with respect and admiration. It was heavier than it looked, and Legolas understood that it would take quite some strength to wield it.
In the end, Legolas gave it back to its owner, who put it back in its former place. "A powerful weapon, Prince," Haldir said. "Always remember to handle it with respect. It can mean the difference between life and death."
Legolas nodded thoughtfully as he studied Haldir's profile. The captain's eyes were of a unexpectedly warm blue-grey Legolas had never seen before, and he wondered how old Haldir was. There was no doubt about it that the Elf had seen many seasons come and go, had known both great joy and severe sorrow; the memory of it still lingered in the depths of Haldir's eyes. Legolas guessed that Haldir was probably younger than Thranduil, but older than the twins.
"Are you a Marchwarden of Lórien?" Legolas asked.
"Yes, my prince. I guard Lórien's borders with my men, go on patrol, report to Lord Celeborn and Lady Galadriel on regular basis."
"Have you been wounded before?"
Haldir laughed softly. "Several times. But the safety of Lórien is well worth it."
"Have you lived in Lórien all your life, Haldir?"
"Yes, my prince. And my parents, and their parents before them."
Legolas had expected as much. The mystery of the ancient elven realm of Lórien was in Haldir's entire being. With his tall, strong body, grey clothes and golden head, the Elf was almost a grand mallorn tree himself. His eyes were open and bright, yet mysterious and unfathomable and they spoke of the stars over Lórien. Legolas didn't doubt that Haldir knew every path, every tree, every turn of root within the Golden Wood by heart. Legolas instinctively felt that Haldir took his task of protecting his homeland seriously; so seriously perhaps that it exceeded all other things in importance. Haldir didn't seem like an Elf of excesses; the fact that he'd sought solitude in the gardens was telltale. Legolas suspected that to some, Haldir might appear reserved and untouchable, even cold maybe, while he was, in fact, just devoted to his task, somewhat protective of his privacy and less comfortable with joviality than others. Perhaps this was the main reason why Legolas felt drawn to him. It was seldom that Legolas encountered an Elf of a cautious and silent nature, like himself.
Then Legolas suddenly realized that the other Elf was studying *him*, too. Blue-grey eyes searching his curiously, trying to read him.
"What is it you want to ask me, Haldir?" he said with a smile. "Go right ahead; it wouldn't be fair if I was the only one firing questions in this conversation."
Haldir laughed, knowing that Legolas had seen the unspoken question in his eyes. "Very well, my prince. But I must warn you, it is a rather personal question."
"Ask."
"I see so little excitement in you, no anticipation about your ceremony tonight. Are you not looking forward to the celebration?"
"Barely," Legolas replied. "Everyone is so excited about it, and it is far from infectious. I wish it was over and done with, so that life could get back to normal."
"Forgive me my insolence, prince, but surely you know that this is a milestone in life? The end of childhood, the beginning of adulthood. Changes are inevitable."
"Of course, I know this," Legolas said. "And I am not asking for that. I'd be very content already when people will finally stop bothering me about choosing a bed partner. I'm tired of it."
Suddenly Legolas wondered why he brought that up in front of this Elf he barely knew. This was something he didn't even really want to discuss with his father. But Haldir's face remained friendly, unchanged.
"You have not yet made up your mind?" Haldir asked.
"No... it's not that I can't decide; I simply haven't given it much thought yet. It is not a matter of great importance to me."
"You do not enjoy the pleasures of the flesh?" The question innocently asked, no scorn in the other's eyes. Just sincere curiosity.
Still, Legolas's cheeks felt instantly hot, and he cursed himself for blushing like a maid in front of this older, level-headed warrior. "I am not averse to it," he said hesitantly. "I simply know of no one I'd... want to lie with."
"No one?"
Legolas shook his head, slowly. "No one."
Haldir studied him for a moment. "Please allow me to give you a bit of advice in this, prince."
"Go ahead."
"Try not to pay attention to what people may expect from you," Haldir began. "When I was young, I felt it was my duty to try and please everybody. I know now that it is impossible; you *can't* make everyone happy, you'd forget about yourself and end up feeling like you've failed anyway. So my advice to you, prince, is this: do what feels comfortable to *you*. This *will* mean disappointing people, but that's inevitable, I'm afraid."
Legolas smiled a little. "My father said something quite similar."
"You see? Then it must be right!" Haldir laughed, spreading his hands. "But seriously, my prince... It may not seem like it, but there *is* fun to be had in this event. And there is no escaping it, so why not try to make of it what you can?"
For the slightest of seconds there, Legolas considered the possibility of asking Haldir. The embrace of the handsome, gentle warrior with his starlit eyes was not so bad a prospect. But the next moment, Legolas shrugged the thought off, annoyed with himself. He barely knew Haldir, and the Elf probably had a mate at home.
"So you don't think me dainty?" he asked.
"No, my prince. Quite the contrary; it pleases me to hear that there are still young Elves who take the matters of the heart so seriously."
Legolas smiled. "I thank you, Haldir, for your reassuring words and for your advice. It will not be forgotten."
"I am glad I could be useful."
"Now, Haldir, please tell me something about Lórien. From what I've heard, it is a place of magic and beauty; but my teacher is a prosaic and I suspect that his stories don't really do justice to Lórien. I would like to hear more about it from a poet, like you."
"A poet, my prince?" Haldir laughed. "I fear it might be disappointing. But I will try my best..."
In the thirty minutes that followed, Haldir spoke of Lórien, and in spite of his own concerns, it was far from disappointing. He *knew*. He knew what it was like to wake up in a talan with the first light of day falling through the mallorn leaves. He knew what it was like to walk the dewed grasses and smell their scent in the morning. He'd seen the golden leaves, the yellow blossoms of spring. He knew what it was like to fall asleep with the song of the Golden Wood in his ears. He knew, and he let his words sketch it all so lively that Legolas was able to form an almost crystal-clear image in his mind. For more than half an hour, Haldir spoke of the magic and the beauty of the Golden Wood while Legolas listened, asking questions now and then; both Elves took enjoyment from it.
To Legolas's regret, their conversation couldn't last. He had been missed in the palace, and soon he was found by one of the servants.
"My prince," the young male said while he bowed, "forgive me the interruption, but you are needed inside. The tailor asked me to remind you that your ceremonial robe needs finishing."
"I will be there shortly," Legolas sighed. The servant bowed again and left.
"Forgive me, Haldir," Legolas said, turning to the Lórien Elf. "I cannot stay to hear more. Perhaps we can continue our conversation later?"
"Of course, my prince... I would like that," Haldir said with a nod.
Legolas stood from the bench. "Will you be attending the celebration tonight?"
"Yes, my prince."
"Good... Until tonight, then. And thank you for your company, Haldir."
"Thank *you*, Prince Legolas."
As Legolas strode back to the palace, he perceived a group of girls coming outside, accompanied by a female teacher. Apparently they were to have some sort of class in the gardens. For a moment, he was tempted to take another route and avoid them, but then he remembered Haldir's words:
*There is fun to be had...*
A sly smile appeared on Legolas's face as he left the path. A few meters to the right stood a large bush laden with sweet-scented, white flowers. He plucked one with care and then continued his path, towards the girls, who spotted him now and immediately started their usual giggling and whispering. He just smiled and held his hands behind his back. One of the girls did not join the nervous conversation: Lachwen, a girl he'd been friends with ever since he could walk. She was slightly older than he and had often, in her young years, bossed him around like she would a younger brother.
"Good afternoon, Ivoriel," he greeted the teacher. And with a nod to the girls, "Ladies..."
"Good afternoon, prince Legolas," Ivoriel said, then looked at her pupils expectantly.
"Good afternoon, prince Legolas," the girls chirped obediently. Legolas didn't think he'd ever seen so many different shades of red.
He approached the girls, eyeing them one by one. They shifted nervously, blushed more fiercely, and watched him in tense anticipation. He stood still in front of Lachwen, produced the flower from behind his back and offered it to her.
"Can you dance?" he asked her casually, and he could almost *hear* the jaws drop.
"Can *you*?" she retorted.
"Why do you think I'm asking you?" he laughed. "I need someone who will make me look like a better dancer than I actually am. I'm counting on you, Lachwen!"
She laughed, too, and accepted the flower. "You are lucky I didn't give the first dance to another yet, you!" she said.
"*Very* lucky indeed," he said with a smirk. "I'll see you tonight, Lachwen... Don't be late!"
And after an inclination of his head to the girls, he continued his path, leaving Lachwen in the company of her *very* jealous classmates. When he was a few meters away, feverish whispering began; all girls crowded around her, either to congratulate or to scold her, and admired the flower in her hand like they would an engagement ring. Legolas smiled to himself; yes, there *was* fun to be had in this. Lachwen was a good choice for his first dance partner; do what feels comfortable, adar and Haldir had said. Well, that was exactly what he had done just now. Whistling, he ran up the stairs.
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