Title & Chapter Number: Wish Upon The Stars (Part 2 of the 'Pilgrim' story arc) 7/?
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 7 - An Audience With The King
Lórien
The following morning, Thranduil was awakened by a hand on his shoulder. "Adar."
"Legolas? What is it?" Thranduil grunted, rolling over. The sky was lightening outside, but the Sun was still hidden beneath the horizon. Thranduil was used to an early rise, but he had a long journey behind him and after all, this was a sort of holiday to him. "How did you get here?"
"The door wasn't locked." Legolas chuckled. "You have to be more careful, adar. What if someone takes advantage of that?"
Thranduil laughed softly as he sat up and stretched. "What did you wake me for, Legolas?"
"I want to take you somewhere," his son replied.
"Oh. Very well," Thranduil said, mildly surprised. "May I dress myself, first?"
"You may," Legolas laughed. "In fact, I recommend it."
It was Legolas's turn to tease this morning, for he discovered that Thranduil had slept naked, and he said that in his opinion, Thranduil was simply *begging* for trouble. It surprised Thranduil how easily Legolas made such naughty jests nowadays, but it delighted him; they had always enjoyed those trials of their wits. He laughed heartily and promised Legolas that, if the boy was so worried about his father's innocence, he would bar the door and sleep in battle armour tonight.
~*~*~*~
A knock on the door startled Haldir from his thoughts that morning. He opened the door, only to find the King of Mirkwood standing on his doorstep.
Thranduil was standing a little behind Legolas, who was holding his father's hand and smiled tentatively at Haldir.
"Good morning, Haldir," he said. "I hope you won't find me insolent... but do you have the supplies to serve breakfast for three this morning? The sunrise is so beautiful witnessed from your home... I would like my father to see it. It is a delight he should experience now that he's here."
"How could I deny such high guests access to my home?" Haldir said with a smile, and he opened the door wider.
"I should tell you, this was Legolas's idea, Haldir," Thranduil said as Legolas pulled him inside. "I really don't mean to intrude..."
"No, my Lord, I was joking," Haldir smiled, shaking his head. "You are both very welcome."
Thranduil was in casual clothing today, but he looked stunning, as always. He was wearing grey leggings and black leather boots, and a long-sleeved tunic with silver clasps at the front. The thin suede of the garment was of a reddish-brown color, which set off his golden hair beautifully. Most of his hair was loose, crowning his head and shoulders like a lion's mane; only a couple of thin braids at the sides of his head, letting free his keen, pointed ears. Aquamarine eyes, set into his handsome face like two of the brighest minerals that are found beneath the earth, gazed at Haldir with goodwill and intelligence.
Haldir smiled as he looked upon Thranduil's kind face; who could not like this King? And with his earthly, distinctly elven masculinity, Thranduil even surpassed the Lord of Lórien in beauty. Galadriel, Haldir suspected with amusement, acknowledged this as well; but only in jest, for the bond between Celeborn and Galadriel was strong.
And that, Haldir thought, was a good thing; for the safety and prosperity of Lórien depended on it.
The three Elves, after admiring the sunrise from the eastern window, sat down and ate together, Thranduil waving away Haldir's apologies over the simplicity of the meal.
"Believe me, Haldir," he teased the Marchwarden with sparkling eyes, "I enjoy a good, simple meal as much as anyone. One grows weary of those golden eggs every morning."
Later, Thranduil watched and listened amusedly as his son talked nineteen to the dozen, in turn addressing his father and Haldir, and obviously trying his best to make Haldir, who seemed slightly intimidated by the presence of the King, feel more comfortable.
And the boy was successful, too, for after a short while, the taciturn Galadhrim seemed to relax a little. He began responding to Legolas's jests with witty remarks, and spontaneously told Thranduil some amusing anecdotes, in which Legolas often had a star role. With the lapse of time, two things became clear to Thranduil. There was a familiarity and a trust between his son and the Marchwarden that indeed spoke of a good friendship; and yet there was something in Legolas's way of talking to Haldir, looking at him, that alarmed the King. Eyes that shone toward the Marchwarden, adoration lurking in the blue depths; an adoration that seemed to exceed the appreciation and admiration of a young Elf towards an older warrior.
Thranduil did not think that Legolas had willingly lied to him the night before, when he said that he did not desire Haldir as a lover. More probably, the youth did not fully understand yet what was happening to him. It was true that Legolas had always been secretive about the matters of his heart, but this time, Legolas did not need to say the words; to Thranduil's observant eyes, it became increasingly obvious that his son was slowly falling for the Galadhrim; had already fallen a long way.
Thranduil then turned his attention toward Haldir. The Elf, as Thranduil had realized several times before, was certainly very attractive. He had a good, strong profile, the lines of his face were noble and masculine. Proud. But his most enticing feature was his eyes; dark and bright, framed by long lashes and paired with two arched, dark eyebrows, they formed a striking contrast with his gold-platinum hair and the creamy, lightly tanned skin of his face. But they did not seem to mirror Legolas's, and that was what caused the light frown on Thranduil's face. Oh, the Marchwarden was obviously very fond of Legolas, and Thranduil sensed that Haldir would indeed give his life for his pupil if necessary.
But... he did not look upon Legolas with the eyes of someone in love. Thranduil thought back of what Haldir had said two years ago, when agreeing upon Thranduil's request to be Legolas's mentor. *I shall treat him as if he were my own brother...* And the affection Thranduil saw in Haldir's eyes did indeed resemble that of an Elf toward a younger sibling.
Oh, Legolas, Thranduil thought. Be careful, my child. Guard your heart, or it will be broken. Shield your soul, or it will be scarred. I do not know this Elf very well, but I feel... his heart is not yours to have. Not today, at any rate, and not tomorrow. Do not offer your tender, inexperienced heart to someone who is not able to accept it...
When it was time for Legolas to go and meet his archery instructor, he thanked and bade Haldir goodbye with a spontaneous hug; a gesture which, as Thranduil observed, seemed to take the both of them by surprise.
"Will you walk back with me, adar?" Legolas asked then.
"If Haldir will allow me, I will remain here for a few minutes more, Legolas," Thranduil said.
"Oh. Then you will get one too!" Legolas embraced his father and treated him to a playfully loud kiss on his cheek.
"Urgh. Legolas, you know that gives me the shivers!" Thranduil said.
Legolas laughed. "Have fun discussing me!" he said, and danced out of the room, closing the door behind him. The silence that suddenly came over the talan after the departure of the young whirlwind was so amusing that both Haldir and Thranduil started laughing.
"Can I offer you more tea, my Lord?" Haldir asked then.
"Please," Thranduil nodded.
Haldir poured them both another cup of tea, hung the kettle back over the small fire and then returned to the table, sitting down facing Thranduil. "You wish to speak with me?"
"Yes." Thranduil leaned back in his chair, stretching out his legs, purposefully taking a casual, informal position as not to give Haldir the impression that he was being interrogated. "My son has already told me much, of course, but I would like to hear you as well, Haldir. For example, what have you taught him? How is his progression? What is your general impression of him? Please tell me, and don't be afraid to elaborate." He smiled. "When it comes to his only child, you can never tell a father too much."
Haldir then spoke of Legolas's progression in the last two years, how he'd delighted his tutors with his dedication, his eagerness and his ability to learn, and how well he was doing with the knives and, lately, the sword as well.
"I'm in touch with all his tutors," Haldir said, "and I've never had any complaint about Legolas. They always are full of praise."
"Good." Thranduil nodded, pleased. "And you, Haldir? Do you remember what I told you two years ago, when I did my request? Do you remember what I said about the problems Legolas was having?"
"I do remember, sire, yes. I have always kept your words in mind."
"How is he coping, in your opinion?"
Haldir pondered this for a moment, and when he spoke, he chose his words with care. "I was worried about him when we travelled through Mirkwood, for he was clearly distraught. But it soon got better, and although I am sure that he has missed Mirkwood, and you, I had the impression that he was feeling quite at home in Caras Galadhon."
Haldir gazed into Thranduil's eyes seriously. "As Lord Celeborn said, his cheerful and compassionate nature has been a delight for us all, and in spite of your warning, I have never regretted the fact that I've accepted this task. We've witnessed his growth and it has been a pleasure to see. But I can't help still feeling worried about him, my Lord."
Thranduil nodded slowly. "Go on."
"We've spent many hours together," Haldir continued, "and we've shared long conversations. But he has never spoken of his inner conflicts, he keeps them inside. He broods... And he never speaks of his mother, the Queen, not on his own accord. And he clearly avoids any reference to... to the day she..." Haldir's eyes sought Thranduil's, unsure.
"The day she passed away," Thranduil completed softly. Haldir nodded. "And that causes you concern," Thranduil said.
"Yes, sire. It's hard to tell, when he never speaks of it, but I believe that he thinks of it a lot; more than he should, much more than is good for him."
Thranduil nodded slowly, sadly. "So he has not confided in you..." he said thoughtfully. "I was hoping he would. I hoped he would feel more comfortable talking about it with an outsider..."
"He does not discuss it with you?" Haldir ventured.
"Not gladly," Thranduil said. "I think he finds it too confronting, too painful to discuss it with me. And he also wants to spare me, although I've tried to make it clear that he shouldn't."
"It must have been terrible for him," Haldir said. "For the both of you... But how old was he when it happened?"
"One hundred six-and-thirty years," Thranduil replied. "It's five-and-sixty years ago now, and still he has to deal with so much pain over the memory..." Thranduil's voice trailed off. The King then gave Haldir a smile. "Still, he told me he's happy, and it appears to be the truth."
"It's true, my Lord, I've noticed it too, especially the last two weeks. Of course," he smiled, "this may have had something to do with the prospect of your arrival. The prospect of seeing Mirkwood again..."
Thranduil put his empty tea cup on the table and folded his arms. "Do you remember what the agreement was between me and Legolas, Haldir? I gave him a minimum of two years, but after that, the moment of his return would be his own decision."
Haldir nodded. "I remember, my Lord."
Thranduil smiled. "He won't come home with me, Haldir."
Haldir raised a slender eyebrow in surprise. "He won't? Did he tell you that?"
"No... not yet," Thranduil said with a chuckle. "But I'm his father, I know those things. One of these days, he will come to me and tell me hesitantly that he would like to stay here."
"But why?" Haldir asked. "I thought he'd want to go back..."
Because of you, my dear Marchwarden, Thranduil thought. All because of you... But the King did not speak these words aloud. Instead, he laughed softly and said, "If you really thought that, you don't know my son well enough yet, Haldir! Now that he's spent two years here, tasted the flavors of Lórien, he wants more. I expected, hoped he would... He knows he can always come back home if he wants to. But he won't, not before he can return proudly, as a true swordsman. Not before he's lived up to his own expectations... and to yours, Haldir." At the guardian's surprised smile, Thranduil chuckled again. "That is my son, Marchwarden; that is my Legolas all over. Trust a father's instinct."
"I trust it instantly, my Lord," Haldir said.
"Now, Haldir, I must ask you: are you willing to continue the tasks you have been carrying out with so much dedication over the past two years? Are you still willing to be my son's mentor and tutor, for as long as he will need your guidance?"
Haldir nodded resolutely. "Yes, sire; I still stand by what I promised you two years ago. I will gladly continue to guide and teach him, if that is what he wants, as well."
Thranduil smiled. "Well," he said, "I think *that* is the very last thing in question here." He stood from his chair and Haldir, ever aware of protocols, hurried to do the same.
"You have already done well, Haldir," Thranduil said, grasping Haldir's hand over the table. "You are an Elf of your word. Legolas may have a long way to go yet, but I can see he's changed already. You've had a great part in that, and I thank you deeply. Is there something I can do in return? If so, you have but to name it."
Haldir slowly shook his head. "Your trust is a great enough reward in itself, my Lord. I promise you, I will not betray it."
"I know you won't, Haldir." Thranduil, smiling, released Haldir's hand. "Thank you for the hospitality. I know that we burst in on you rather unexpectedly."
Haldir returned the smile. "It was my pleasure. If you and Legolas decided to burst in on me again, tomorrow morning, I would only be too happy to welcome you again."
Thranduil laughed. "I will certainly keep that in mind."
As Thranduil made for the door, followed by Haldir, he asked, "Do you and Legolas have a lesson planned for today, Haldir?"
"Yes, sire," Haldir replied. "Two hours, beginning at noon."
"Would you mind if I attended?" Thranduil asked. "Not to inspect your teaching methods," he hurried to add. "Just out of curiosity."
"Of course I wouldn't mind, my Lord. You will be most welcome."
"Thank you." Thranduil smiled thankfully. "Until this afternoon then, Haldir."
And after briefly having grasped Haldir's shoulder in a friendly warrior's greeting, the King of Mirkwood swept out of the Marchwarden's home, leaving behind the scent of cypress and pine-needles lingering in the air.
~*~*~*~
Walking the paths of the tree city aimlessly, Thranduil reflected on the conversation he'd just had with Haldir. The Marchwarden was faithful in his promises, very decisive about the continuation of his lessons to Legolas, and very dedicated to his pupil, to whom he seemed to be genuinely attached. In those respects, it was a great reassurance to Thranduil, to know that his son was in the care of this Elf.
On the other hand, he knew very well what he had seen in Legolas's eyes. Could it be called love? 'Love' was such a poor word really, only one word for so many different forms of affection. Thranduil had loved in many different ways. There was the sharp-edged, sometimes hate-bordering love he'd felt for his father, the tender, protective love for his mother; there was the sweet, never-ending love for his late wife, which had completed his soul, while her death had taken a part of it away, a part that could never be put back; there was the love he'd occasionally felt for his lovers, whom he had briefly loved for the pleasure they had given him, for the pleasure he could take from them. There was his love for the forest that was his kingdom, his home, love for the creatures that were in it, his people and the friendly birds and beasts that shared the forest with them. Love for all those little, seemingly meaningless things: the scent of his sheets after a long day, and how soft they were to his skin; warm wine on a cold winter's night; the first snow-drop of winter and the first crocus of spring.
And Legolas's affection for the Marchwarden was of yet another nature. It was heartbreaking to see, in a good and in a bad way. It touched Thranduil deeply, to see his only child lose himself for the first time, in the sweet torture called love. And it unsettled him; for he did not know if any good could come from it.
He understood the attraction; for Haldir was very fair, and from his own personal experience, Thranduil knew that it was easy for a young Elf to be smitten with an older warrior. And it happened often that a warrior would take a younger Elf to bed, introduce him to the passion between males. Once, maybe twice. But Legolas simply wasn't the kind of Elf who would settle with that. His romantic soul craved for more. For everything; his beloved's bed, his nights... but also his mornings and afternoons. His every kiss, his every embrace. His heart... And Legolas would give everything in return. Oh, it would be so sweet, being loved by Legolas; but what Elf was ready for such love? Thranduil knew for a certainty that it wasn't the one called Haldir.
Thranduil had had it easy, he realized. He'd had his pleasures, had given and taken freely, while all that time, he'd known that his true love was waiting for him patiently. He'd never been in Legolas's position, craving so badly for someone he could not have. How could he aid Legolas? *Should* he try to aid him?
The temptation was great to have a heart-to-heart with his son, warn him for the things he feared would come if Legolas continued to nurse this growing affection in his heart. But then again, did he have the right to interfere? He'd always hated it when his father meddled with his love life; advise, forbid, warn, order... His relationship with Legolas was different, that was true, but still...
And besides, hadn't he decided long ago, hadn't he told Legolas even yesterday: the youth must choose his own path? Make his own mistakes, and learn from them? He'd used those exact words, literally. But if it meant the breaking of Legolas's heart...? Could he even live with that thought, that fear?
Such were Thranduil's musings as he walked leisurely, really paying no heed to where he headed. Then, as he was still in the middle of his internal conflict, he suddenly stood eye-to-eye with the Lady of the Galadhrim.
"My Lady," he greeted her, started from his thoughts.
"Thranduil," she smiled in her gentle way, and she held out her arm. "Walk with me." It sounded as if she'd been waiting for him to arrive. It wouldn't have surprised Thranduil if it were even true. After all, she was the Lady Galadriel. With her, anything was possible.
So they walked together, Galadriel's hand resting lightly in the crook of Thranduil's arm.
"You fear for your son," Galadriel said.
Thranduil looked at her from the side, a smile slowly gliding over his lips. "You'd think that one would learn," he said, "but even after so many years, your talent for observation still amazes me, my Lady."
She smiled. "I know why you worry," she said. "You suddenly wonder if your decision to entrust your son to Haldir was a wise one."
"He is devoted," Thranduil said carefully. "And I trust him. But I fear that my son will ask something of him that he won't be able to give. I fear for Legolas's happiness."
"Right now, the friendship he shares with Haldir is the one thing he derives the greatest happiness from, apart from his love for you," Galadriel said earnestly.
"I see this as well," Thranduil sighed. "And I would not take it away from him. But my instinct tells me to protect him from pain..."
"It's a natural reaction," Galadriel said, "but he does not feel pain yet."
"Yet?" Thranduil frowned in concern. "But it will come, won't it?"
"As you have known all along," Galadriel said, gazing deeply into Thranduil's eyes. "He has been hurting for a long time already; far too long a time for an Elf so young. I saw it in him when he arrived here... And there's still a long road ahead of him."
Seeing Thranduil's face, she smiled. "Do not grieve because of this, Thranduil," she said softly, in her serene way. "He is strong and resilient. And very determined... he takes after you, and his grandfather after all."
"Yes..." Thranduil smiled. "He does..."
After a brief silence, Thranduil asked, "I take it that you know of my son's interest in the Marchwarden, then, my Lady?"
"I have seen it," she said. "And I admit, it has troubled me as well. We both didn't see it coming, did we? But I have put my troubles to rest for now. They share a wonderful friendship, unlike anything I've seen before. It's strong, and yet so fragile. Like a young plant, growing in unfit ground, in unfortunate circumstances, and yet... growing. Against all odds. Against expectation. How can we not delight in that?"
Galadriel's voice was serious when she continued, "I cannot say much about this, Thranduil; but know that your son has a very special place in Haldir's heart. And Haldir himself has been the very last person to have seen that coming. But you have seen rightly: his heart is not free for Legolas to have."
Thranduil shook his head. "Why not? I do not understand..."
"Haldir suffered a loss..." Galadriel said. "Long ago. I cannot say more! But..." She stopped and took Thranduil's hands in hers. "Do you see how it is, Thranduil?" she said with urgency. "They are both hurting... They can be each other's cure, if they act wisely, and true to their hearts. We must be patient... Yes, we must be patient..." she trailed off, and her eyes seemed to stray far away for a moment.
Then, she smiled, focusing on Thranduil again. "Do you want my advice, my friend?" she asked, and he nodded mutely. "Do as your heart bade you shortly before: let Legolas walk his own path. He will only grow stronger in the process, and do not forget: he is not alone. Celeborn and I take his well-being to heart. But most of all: he's got Haldir. He is surrounded by people who care for him. Let that knowledge comfort you, Thranduil Oropherion."
"Very well, my Lady," Thranduil said with a little smile. "You are wise and kind. I will heed your counsel and let events take their course."
She nodded, keeping her eyes on his. "Let us take delight in the growing of the plant," she said enigmatically. "Let us be the thankful witnesses of its growth. And let us save our worries, whether it will carry flowers or not, for later. Such is my counsel."
"Then that is how it shall be, my Lady," Thranduil said, gently squeezing her hands. "That is how it shall be."
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