Title & Chapter Number: Wish Upon The Stars (Part 2 of the 'Pilgrim' story arc) 6/?
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 don't mean to steal them; I'm just borrowing them for my enjoyment.
Warnings: Lots of character development, not much sex. Sap and angst. Twincest
Betas: Jilly. Still the best.
Cast: Haldir, Legolas, Rúmil, Orophin, Celeborn, Galadriel, the entire Lothlórien bunch. Elladan/Thranduil/Elrohir are the only ones getting it on for now, though. There might be new pairings as the story develops.
Timeline: Third Age, approx. 440 years prior to the Fellowship.
Spoilers: Nope.
Summary: Legolas arrives in Lórien to begin his training as a warrior under Haldir's supervision. In the process, he discovers things about himself he'd never dreamed of. Haldir, in the meantime, finds that even one immortal is never too old to learn.
Notes: None
Chapter 6 - Reunited
Lórien
Time became thick and slow like treacle, those two last weeks; and to Legolas, they were also as sweet. The morning after falling asleep in Haldir's talan, Legolas woke from a nice, deep sleep. Stretching lazily, he vaguely remembered having dreamed of Haldir. A pleasant dream it had been, but it was frustrating that he couldn't recall what it had been about. He thought hard, but as always, the memory of the dream trickled through his fingers quicker than water. All he remembered was a feeling of safety, of belonging, two arms holding him, and his own head resting against a shoulder... He didn't remember seeing a face, but the scent had been enough to know, it was Haldir. It had been so distinct... oddly enough, he could still smell it.
Legolas's eyes flew open, and he instantly realized, it hadn't been a dream. He was in Haldir's talan, had been there all night. Had been in Haldir's arms last night, briefly, as his friend carried him to bed... Early sunshine crept in through the eastern window, warmed his legging-clad legs, his un-booted feet as they lay entangled with the sheets of Haldir's spare bed. His senses were instantly awake, and he became aware of the scent of tea, the familiar sounds of Haldir making arrangements for breakfast: the soft jingle of crockery, the slight squeaking of the doors in the low cupboard, where Haldir kept his plates and cups.
Legolas sat up with a start, his eyes seeking Haldir across the room.
"Awake at last?" Haldir smiled. He was completely dressed and looked like he had been up for hours.
"I am sorry, Haldir," Legolas began to apologize. He knew he was blushing. "I never meant to take advantage of your hospitality. I..."
"That's quite all right," Haldir said. "I don't mind, Legolas."
Legolas rubbed his eyes. "And to think," he yawned, "that you wanted to be rid of Orophin's moodiness in the morning."
Haldir chuckled. "Yes... but you're not Orophin. You don't know what he's like, waking up after a long night of drinking." He came over to Legolas and sat down on the rim of the bed. He was wearing one of his favorite spare-time outfits. In addition to a pair of dark-grey leggings: a sleeveless jerkin, made of night-blue suede, worn over a light-blue, thin linen tunic with a couple of fine, silver embroideries on the shoulders. Legolas liked to see him in those clothes; they modestly accentuated his broad shoulders, his slim waist, the powerful build of his tall body. And blue looked so much better on him than the greys of his uniform. Legolas had never really liked grey; although he had to admit, the guards of Lórien looked handsome in it.
"Did you sleep well?" Haldir asked him.
"Yes." Legolas gave a first, tentative smile. "Very well."
"Good." Something unexpected happened then. Legolas's hair was always unruly in the morning, and during the night, a tangle had developed in his long locks. Haldir now brought a hand to Legolas's head and gently released one of Legolas's thin braids from the tangle, trying to tuck it back into place, behind Legolas's ear. Legolas almost gasped at the sudden touch; simple and completely innocent, but electrifying nonetheless. Then, blushed harder with shame; that Haldir, of all beings, had to see him like this, in his most uncharming state!
But Haldir did not seem to sense this. He smiled and asked kindly, "Would you like to take a bath before breakfast?"
Legolas could never say 'no' to a bath when it was offered to him. So Haldir went to his bathroom, and returned five minutes later, announcing that a warm bath stood waiting for Legolas. When the younger Elf entered the bathroom, he found that Haldir had made all the required arrangements; different soaps to choose from, a washing cloth, a comb, and a great white towel hanging over a chair. Legolas, delighting in the prospect of a warm bath, undressed and contently slid into the wooden tub, similar to the one in his own talan. Going through the collection of soaps Haldir had set ready for him, he found sandalwood, lotus flower, lemongrass, eucalyptus and cedarwood. This last one he held under his nose for a long time, letting the scent fill his nostrils. It was a slightly spicy, manly fragrance. And familiar... It was the scent of Haldir. The scent of the night before, the one that accompanied his memory of lying in the Marchwarden's arms; and he instinctively knew, this was Haldir's favorite soap. The one he used the most often... For a moment, Legolas was tempted to use it himself; then, decided against it. The scent belonged on Haldir, not on him. So Legolas chose eucalyptus instead.
When Legolas eventually stepped out of the tub, clean and fresh from head to toe and with wet, tangle-free hair, he took the towel from the chair and let it fall open. It was truly enormous, he could wrap it around himself almost three times and it fell from his shoulders almost to the floor. He practically disappeared in it. But it was nice and warm and skin-caressingly soft, more so than any towel Legolas had ever been in, even the ones in Thranduil's palace. It was with a pang of regret that Legolas removed it to put on his clothes.
When he returned to the room, he again found everything ready for him. Haldir, fond of tidiness as he was, had made Legolas's bed, and he was waiting for the younger Elf to return. He'd set the table with the usual items and the tea stood waiting.
Every day in Lórien had been a joy so far. But, Legolas decided with a growing smile when his eyes fell on the second plate on Haldir's side of the table, some days were just even better than others.
~*~*~*~
The remainder of those two weeks, Legolas spent his nights in his own talan again. But he sensed that yet another change had come to their friendship; he stood another step closer to Haldir than he had been doing before. A new level of trust and familiarity had been reached. The painting in Legolas's heart had grown again.
Legolas was happy, and it showed. He sang softly to himself while walking the paths of the city, when it was time for class; he brushed off one of his most tenacious suitors with a self-confidence that surprised himself and had him grinning for the rest of the day; and he devoted himself to his blade-practices with even more enthusiasm than usual. He fought with more control, more grace, and he could see that Haldir was greatly pleased. He also increased the number of push- and sit-ups he did in the mornings and the evenings, and even in those two weeks, felt himself grow stronger and more self-assured than he'd ever been.
And Thranduil would arrive soon... how he was looking forward to that. Would his father think him changed? Would he be content with the way Haldir had taught Legolas? Would he feel hurt if Legolas told him he liked it so much in Lórien that he wanted to stay? Thranduil had said he was hoping for that, but would that still be true?
The end of July drew near, and so did Legolas's 202nd begetting-day, July 27th. Early in the afternoon of the 25th, Legolas sat in his talan, attending to his weapons as he did twice every month. He had his bow on his knees and was busy polishing the wood to make it shine, as he suddenly became aware of a whisper in the trees, a rustle of excitement. A name... Legolas was surprised. The trees of Lórien had never spoken to him before, not in words he could understand. But he did not tarry to ponder this. He put bow and cloth aside and went out, running as swift as his feet allowed him.
~*~*~*~
"Thranduil," Celeborn said, stepping forward and clasping the Mirkwood King's hand, "welcome in Caras Caladhon! Was your journey undisturbed?"
"I am afraid not," Thranduil smiled at the silver-haired Elf, but there was concern in his eyes. "Not Orcs, but spiders this time! The road between Northern Mirkwood and Lórien is becoming more and more dangerous. But I had selected a group of experienced warriors to accompany me, and we are all unharmed."
"That is a good thing." Galadriel took Thranduil's hands in hers. "And a joy it is to see you again, Thranduil."
"It has been too long, my Lady," Thranduil agreed.
They were in the main hall of the city, the hall with the ever-golden roof. After his arrival, Thranduil had been escorted there by one of the guards, to greet Celeborn and Galadriel as was custom. It had indeed been many centuries since he'd last walked those paths, but, he realized with amusement when he became aware of the staring that was done at him, some things never changed. Most Elves did have the presence of mind, though, to greet him properly; by bowing their heads as he walked by. Although he wore practical travelling clothes and lacked any token of his royalty, he was recognized as the King of Mirkwood. Many had seen him before, on one of his earlier visits; others, younger Elves, saw the resemblance with Prince Legolas and guessed that this was the father. The polite greetings, combined with the admiring stares from under lowered lashes, amused Thranduil greatly.
He'd hoped to see Legolas on the way, but he arrived at Celeborn and Galadriel's dwelling-place without a glimpse of his son. He longed dearly to be reunited with him, and to see for himself how Legolas was doing. To sit down with him and share a good, long conversation as was their wont. He had been looking forward to that for two years.
A third Elf now stepped forward and shook Thranduil's hand as well. "Sire."
"Well met, Haldir," Thranduil replied heartily. From the letters Legolas had sent him, Thranduil could tell that his son had grown very fond of Haldir, and that the Marchwarden had indeed kept every promise he'd done the King. Thranduil had every reason to be thankful.
"How is my son?" he asked then, no longer able to keep himself from asking. "Has he done me and Mirkwood honour?"
The Lord and Lady smiled. Haldir nodded and said, "Every day of his stay here, my Lord."
"And Haldir is the one to know," Celeborn said. "He has been spending the most time with the Prince. But we have all taken great delight in his presence here, Thranduil."
Thranduil beamed with pride. "I was hoping to hear that."
"You have every reason to be proud of him," Galadriel confirmed. "He has worked hard, and he has grown remarkably, given that only two years have passed since his coming of age."
"Where is he?" Thranduil asked longingly. "Can I see him?"
"Do you know where our young friend is right now, Haldir?" Galadriel asked the Galadhrim.
"He is free from classes this afternoon," Haldir said. "I will go and find him; he's probably in his talan."
"Please do so," Galadriel smiled.
Haldir inclined his head for the three other Elves, and departed from the hall.
~*~*~*~
Legolas did not slow his pace once as he climbed the steps leading to the Lord and Lady's talan, the great hall. He encountered some familiar Elves, staring at him in surprise, but he did not take the effort to greet them as he usually did. He barely even took the effort to look upon their faces, and so it happened that he didn't recognize Haldir until he almost overran the Marchwarden.
"Legolas," he said, "I was just on my way to find you..."
"Haldir," Legolas breathed, "is there... is he...?"
Haldir gave a nod. "You are expected upstairs..." he said.
Legolas's smile grew broader, and he swiftly continued his way up.
"Legolas?"
Legolas stopped and turned to face Haldir, his cheeks flushed with excitement.
Haldir hadn't moved, and he stood looking up at the younger Elf. He did not speak immediately.
"Never mind," he said then, and smiled. "Just go."
If Legolas had looked back as he ran on, he would have seen that the smile was gone from Haldir's face.
~*~*~*~
"I am grateful to you, for receiving Legolas here so kindly," Thranduil told the Lord and Lady of Lórien. "From his letters, I can tell that he has grown to love the Golden Wood as much as I do, or even more so."
"It is our pleasure," Celeborn said.
"But Haldir deserves most of the credit," Galadriel said. "He has made all the arrangements for Legolas's education, and except when Haldir's obligations draw him away from the city, they are almost constantly seen in each other's company."
"My son is very fond of the Marchwarden I believe," Thranduil acknowledged with a smile. "I am very thankful to him, and I will personally tell him of my gratitude. It seems I have made a good decision, asking Haldir to fulfil this task."
Galadriel smiled gently and it seemed she was going to speak, but at that moment the door flung open unceremoniously and a young Elf, clad in the same greens and browns as Thranduil, appeared on the doorstep.
"Legolas..." With a growing smile, Thranduil started to walk in his son's direction, but Legolas, less caring about dignity in this moment of happiness, ran over to him. "Adar!"
Thranduil had just enough time to stretch out his arms and catch his son as the young Elf threw himself into his father's embrace. Both Elves laughed joyfully as they held each other in a firm embrace, delighting in how familiar the other was. However, under the layers of suede clothing, Thranduil could feel a strength in Legolas's body, more prominent than before. Steeled muscles in a still-slender body.
Thranduil pulled slightly back and held his son at arm's length, the two of them smiling with equal delight. Not much had changed in Legolas's face; except, perhaps, that his features had become slightly sharper, giving him a masculine, more mature appearance. And his eyes: free of fear, free of pain. That was what Thranduil had been hoping to see.
"My leafling," he said, his eyes sliding over his son's happy face, taking in every inch. "I have so much to ask you."
"And I have so much to tell you, adar," Legolas said, beaming with joy.
"You look splendid," Thranduil said. He took his son's hands in his. "Healthy, and happy. You don't know half how glad I am to see that, to see you, my son."
"You look quite acceptable yourself, adar," Legolas teased the beautiful Elf in front of him. Both laughed, and Thranduil momentarily looked away from his son's face to search the room. Celeborn and Galadriel stood watching the scene, smiling gently.
"Where is Haldir?" Thranduil asked Legolas. "He went out to find you..."
"I was already on my way here," Legolas explained. "I met him not far from here. Where he is now, I know not. He does not seem to have followed me."
Suddenly, Legolas's arms were around Thranduil's neck again. "I have missed you!" he said.
"Ai, Legolas!" Thranduil laughed. "You squeeze me so hard, you'll strangle me. But yes, I have missed you too, my child. Even more so than I thought possible."
In the joy over their reunion, both father and son missed the concerned glance Celeborn and Galadriel exchanged.
~*~*~*~
The remainder of the day, Thranduil and Legolas refused to let each other out of their sight, and they were seen strolling through Lórien, conversing merrily. Thranduil had his hands casually in the folds of his cloak as they walked, and Legolas had hooked his arm in his father's. He chattered continuously, about everything he'd learned, everything he'd done in Lórien, and Thranduil was delighting in the small changes he sensed in his son. He'd noticed that Legolas's voice, which always had been rather light, had begun to drop a few notes, moving towards its eventual level; a natural development for an Elf his age, but this hovering between his old vocal range and the new one made his singing lessons a disaster, and Thranduil teased him awfully with that.
At one point, Thranduil stopped and took Legolas by the shoulders quite seriously. "Have you ever been angry with me, Legolas?" he asked.
"Angry? Why?" Legolas asked, frowning.
"Because of my decision to arrange this for you. To send you from Mirkwood..."
"No, adar. I was agrieved at first, but I have always known that it was a wise decision. I never doubted your judgment..." He looked at Thranduil in mild surprise. "You were worried I was angry with you?"
When Thranduil nodded with an apologetic smile, Legolas flung his arms around his father's neck and laughed softly. "Silly ada," he said, "I thought you knew me! Everything you've ever done was for my own good, as was this arrangement. And you were right again. Can't you see? I am happy..."
"I *can* see that," Thranduil said, returning the embrace affectionately. "And I am happy because of that, little one."
That night, a festive banquet was held to celebrate Thranduil's arrival, and afterwards, Thranduil and Legolas sat high in the mallorn of Legolas's talan.
"Do you do this every night?" Thranduil asked as they gazed at the stars.
"Yes..." Legolas replied. "With Haldir. The view from his talan is magnificent."
"He will miss you tonight then," Thranduil assumed.
Legolas felt a little guilty. Because of his excitement over his father's presence, he hadn't paid much attention to Haldir today. Haldir would probably understand, but still, it wasn't a nice thing to do. He decided to apologize to Haldir the next day.
Thranduil studied his son's face in the semi-darkness. So far away from his court, in the fair realm of Lórien and in the aftermath of a long, good meal, Thranduil felt a relaxation take a hold of him. He remembered the visits to Lórien when he was still a prince, how he had become aware of the admiration he was eliciting among the Lórien Elves, and how he had taken advantage of that by bedding several of them. Thranduil was certain that Legolas, with his physical appearance, was drawing similar attention to him, and he wondered how Legolas handled that nowadays. Would he have changed in that respect, as well? It was only a natural development in the life of a young Elf...
"Is he your lover, Legolas?"
Legolas started from his thoughts and looked up, puzzled. "What?"
"Haldir. Is he your lover?" Thranduil repeated calmly.
"Adar!" Legolas's face flushed to the tips of his ears. "What kind of question is *that*?"
"Just a question a curious father asks his adult son," Thranduil said with a chuckle. "The matters of your heart have always been a mystery to me, Legolas. And you have grown since I last saw you... I wondered, maybe now you would discuss those things with me? I'd rather have you come to me for advice, than to see you struggle silently." He cocked his head to the side and smiled. "It's what fathers and sons do, you know."
Legolas was silent for a moment. Then said, "Haldir is not my lover, adar, and never has been."
"Do you regret that?" Thranduil asked him.
Legolas's face now assumed a nice shade of purple. "No, adar! It wouldn't be right, now, would it, to desire him. He's my friend... my teacher."
Thranduil thought of the brief, but passionate affair he'd had with one of his tutors when he was young, and he smiled. He wouldn't want to be that loose-headed elfling again, but the memory was pleasant. However, he understood that by asking this, he'd put a finger on a sore spot, and he decided to let the subject drop, for Legolas's sake.
But his son surprised him.
"Have you loved males, adar?" he asked softly.
Thranduil was momentarily dumbstruck by this. Legolas had never asked him questions about his love life. It had always been adar and naneth to him, and what had been before that, he did not wish to know, so it seemed. And now this...
"'Loved', in what sense of the word, Legolas?" he asked his son.
"Well..." Legolas seemed genuinely interested in the laces of his tunic suddenly. "Both," he said vaguely.
Thranduil folded his arms relaxedly and looked upon his son with a friendly gaze. The subject still made the boy uncomfortable, but at least he dared to talk about it now.
"No Elf other than your naneth ever captured my heart, Legolas," he said gently, "male or female. But yes, before your mother and I got married, I loved many males... in the physical sense of the word."
"Here in Lórien, too?"
"Yes... Why do you ask?"
"Because," Legolas said, and he smirked faintly, "I am being pursued here."
"Ah." Thranduil smiled. "Well, I am not surprised. Those Lórien Elves have always had good taste. And how do *you* feel about this interest, Legolas?"
"I find it annoying," Legolas said.
Thranduil arched an eyebrow. "Truly?"
Legolas nodded slowly. "Yes. I know I should feel flattered, enjoy the attention, but..." He looked up and his eyes searched his father's helplessly. "I can't help it, adar," he said. "I hate it when they stare at me, check out every inch of me as if it is theirs to have. I do not want to give myself to someone who desires my body but does not even know who I am. I do not want to lie with someone I do not love, and who does not love me back." With soft voice he concluded, "I do not enjoy that kind of attention. I'm not like you, adar." There was apology in his eyes.
Thranduil reached out and pulled his son to him, gathering him in his arms. "I never expected you to become a replica of me, Legolas," he said gently. "You must choose your own path... If you want to wait until the right opportunity, then that is what you should do. The one to receive this gift from you, will be a lucky Elf indeed."
Legolas sighed and hugged his father tightly. "I love you," he said.
"And I you, my child." Thranduil smiled tenderly. Such a romantic soul, that boy; and at that age!
They continued to sit like this a long, silent moment, each enjoying the other's company after so many months of separation. Not far from there, unbeknownst to them, Haldir was sitting high in his mallorn as usual. Only the Lady could have read his thoughts, but she did not seek his mind this night as she had obligations elsewhere. There were more hurting souls in Caras Galadhon... To Haldir, it was all well; he could not have put up with her questions anyway.
Haldir of Lórien found that, for the first time in his long life, the sky held no beauty for him tonight.
~ Next Chapter ~
~ Previous Chapter ~
~ Library Main ~
~ Author Index ~ Character Index ~ Title Index ~
~ Hall Of Fire ~ Gallery ~
~ Links ~ Shops ~ Map ~ News ~ Rules ~ Lists ~ ~
This page is in no way affiliated with New Line Cinema or Tolkien Enterprises, and no profit is being made.
The information contained herein is NOT to be used to spam or in any other way harrass its members. Be advised that abuse of this site will not be tolerated, and the appropriate legal action will be taken.
Hall-Of-Fire.Com v.4.0, Copyright © 2003, 2004, 2005, 2006, 2007, 2008, 2009 by Cristine Cook-Fireheart. All rights reserved. This web site may not be reproduced in any form, except as occurs in normal browser caching, without express written permission from the author.
Website by Infinite Connections Design.
