Title & Chapter Number: Wish Upon The Stars (Part 2 of the 'Pilgrim' story arc) 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 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: This one is for Steph, who suggested that I should bring in an Elf with a strong interest in Legolas. That was a good suggestion; the situation between Haldir and Legolas could use a little spicin’-up! Thank you for that, Steph.
Chapter 12 - The South Patrol
Lórien
With a frown of annoyance on his face, Legolas tugged at the straps of his backpack, trying to shift it and ease the discomfort. Something hard and blunt, probably the handle of a pan, pricked him between his shoulder blades persistently and it was driving him crazy. If only he could stop for a minute and rearrange the bag’s contents; but he knew he wasn’t in the right position to ask for a brief respite. The patrol was walking in single file, trekking southwards through woody terrain, which steadily sloped down to the valley of Celebrant. Haldir, of whom Legolas only caught brief glances, was at the head of the column and maintained a no-nonsense pace.
They had left Caras Galadhon very early that morning; twenty-one grey-clad Elves, all of them supplied with full weaponry and backpacks with extra provisions, blankets and other requisites. Rúmil, who had the task of distributing the bags over the patrol members, had not succeeded in keeping a straight face when he handed Legolas his backpack. Legolas understood why when the full weight of the bag came to rest in his hands; it was very heavy.
“Eärendil in the heavens,” he panted, “what’s in this bag?”
“Pans and pottery,” Rúmil grinned. “An ancient patrol tradition. Usually we divide those over all the bags, but when a new Elf joins the patrol, we put them all in one bag and give it to the novice to carry during the first trip.”
“Funny, Haldir never mentioned that tradition to me,” Legolas grumbled as he hoisted his pack. “And you,” he said to Ruigaul and Tinuril, “never spoke of this either.”
Tinuril tried to adopt a guilty expression, but failed miserably. Ruigaul grinned and gave an unconvincing, “Sorry.”
Haldir, in the meantime, wandered to and fro, going from Elf to Elf and briefly conversing with each of them. He always put a hand on the other’s shoulder before moving along.
“Another tradition?” Legolas presumed.
“Something like that,” Orophin replied.
“What is he doing?”
“Nothing major,” Orophin said. “Just re-establishing the bonds within the group before we set off. Haldir does not take his leadership for granted, you see. He deems it important that we obey him out of friendship and respect, not because some oath forces us to.”
Legolas nodded in understanding, and as he gazed around at the faces of his fellow warriors, who stood preparing themselves for departure while engaging in banter and laughter together, forgot the weight of his pack on his shoulders. He felt honoured to be part of such a group.
At length, Haldir came over to Orophin. “You look better than last time when we set out,” he observed cheerfully. “You look... rested.”
“I feel excellent, thank you, my captain,” Orophin smiled. “I enjoyed a good rest last night.”
“I assume you’re ready to depart, then?”
“Yes, captain. Where you lead, I will follow.”
“I thank you. What do you have in your pack?” Haldir asked.
“Twenty portions of lembas, six water skins, a blanket and three ropes, two of them 100 feet in length and one 120 feet.”
Haldir nodded and grasped his brother’s shoulder briefly before moving along. Legolas was next, and also last.
“I don’t have to ask you what *your* pack contains,” he said with a smile.
“Indeed,” Legolas replied. “How very sly of you to never inform me about this patrol’s habit of wearing out new members.”
Haldir grinned. “Surely one bag with cooking supplies doesn’t discourage you?”
Legolas straightened himself. “Of course not,” he said firmly. He was determined not to give the others reason to think him a spoiled princeling, not used to getting his hands dirty.
Haldir eyed the young Elf standing in front of him, a Lórien warrior in every respect, except for his hair style... and his bow from Mirkwood. The other patrol members all carried identical bows, but Haldir had allowed Legolas to keep his own. After all, he had trained with it for years and was familiar with it, and there really was no reason why Legolas wouldn’t be allowed to use it. He also had his knives close, and his sword ready at his side. Yes, Haldir did feel a spark of pride at seeing his pupil like this; there was no shame in admitting that.
When Haldir spoke again, he adopted a more official tone. “I welcome you in our midst, Legolas Thranduilion,” he said, bringing his hand to his heart. “I trust that you shall prove yourself loyal and brave, for I have no reason to expect otherwise. But I must ask you: will you follow me?”
Legolas quickly laid his hand over his heart as well. “Through seas of swords and showers of arrows if need be, I will follow you,” – he quickly glanced at Orophin – “... my captain.”
Haldir smiled and lowered his hand. “Give me your bow,” he said.
This took Legolas by surprise. A weapon inspection? A good thing he’d tended to his weapons only yesterday!
But Haldir had a different intention. Receiving the weapon from Legolas, he held it lightly in his hands. The other Elves stood watching with interest, Legolas noticed, and he wondered if this was another part of the welcoming ritual.
“This is your weapon of choice,” Haldir said. “Tell us something about it.”
Legolas frowned slightly, unsure what the meaning of this was, but obeyed. “My father gave it to me when I left Mirkwood almost three years ago,” he said. “It is made of mahogany, by some of Mirkwood’s best wood artisans, weapon experts and silver-workers, who worked together to craft it the way you see it. The silver decoration symbolizes the fern, the plant that is also featured in the royal emblem, the family coat-of-arms.”
Haldir held the bow in his hands for another few seconds, studying it, then passed it on to Ôlnathron, who regarded it seriously. Then he gave it to Ercirion, and so it went from hand to hand. No one spoke. In the end, it came back into Haldir’s hands, and he turned to a puzzled Legolas.
“Until now, you have used this bow for practice only,” he said. “But it might become a life-saver in the near future. Do not love your bow for the speed it lends your arrows. Love it for what it represents: the memory of the giver, the knowledge and skill of the Mirkwood craftsmen... and from now on, the safety of Lórien and its people, and the lives of the ones you now see gathered here.”
Legolas nodded silently.
“Do you understand, Legolas? We depend on each other, and on each other’s weapons. Each one of us shall use his last arrow to save you if necessary... and we trust that you will do us the same courtesy.”
Legolas nodded again. “Without hesitation,” he promised.
Haldir handed Legolas the bow back. “Stick to this,” he said. “Stick to your weapons at all times, and you shall be a tough opponent to any foe that crosses your path.”
Legolas stared at the weapon in his hands as if with new eyes. A life-saver...
“Are you ready to depart?” Haldir asked him, taking him by the shoulder.
Legolas looked up. “Yes... my captain.”
And now they were on their way, following a line through thick forest that could hardly be called a path. While Haldir led the group, Ôlnathron formed the tail. Legolas was in the second half, with Celairmir’s back in front of him and with Ruigaul at his heels.
The morning glided past like this. There wasn’t much talking, and they didn’t halt until at last they came to the rushing silver waters of the Celebrant. The file was broken and they all gathered on the river bank. With a sigh of relief, Legolas let his backpack slide from his shoulders.
“What are you doing, soldier?” Haldir asked, amused. “This is not a pause.”
Legolas flushed. “I know,” he said, although that wasn’t true. “I’m just going to do a quick repack. I think one of those pans has given me a bruise over the past hours.”
All laughed. “Very well then,” Haldir smiled. “But do it quick, for we won’t linger here. Orophin! Give me one of those 100-feet ropes you have in your pack.”
Legolas looked up from his pack to watch Haldir take the rope in his hands and select one of the smaller rocks on the bank. He then tied one end of the rope securely around the rock and tested the knots.
“Stand back,” he commanded. All obeyed, and watched as Haldir swung the rope around in widening circles, increasing speed until he released, sending the rope to the other bank. It crossed the sixty, seventy feet-broad river as Haldir let rope slip through his hands, until he grasped it again firmly. The free flight of the rock was ended and it swept around the low branch of a tree several times, coming to an abrupt rest when there was no rope left. The length of the rope now stood tightly stretched between the two river banks. Legolas watched, rapt.
Haldir bound his end of the rope about a nearby tree and tested this path with his hands before leaping lightly up and starting to walk along it. Legolas was instantly doubtful. The branch on the other side of the river wasn’t *that* solid, and he could see it bend a little with the weight of the Elf.
“Is that safe?” he said aloud.
“As safe as it gets,” Ercirion said.
But Legolas needn’t have worried. Haldir walked in a firm, but calm pace and he reached the other bank in safety. There he tied the other end of the rope around the trunk of another tree and, to Legolas’s amazement, came walking back to them.
“Ôlnathron,” he said, dropping to the ground, and the second-in-command stepped onto the cord and walked to the other side like his captain had done moments earlier. The others followed one by one. Legolas, who had located the obnoxious pan, shouldered his backpack again, its contents rearranged. He was patiently waiting for his turn, when suddenly he realized that Haldir was stripping himself of his weapons and his clothes.
“What are you doing?” he asked, stunned.
Legolas’s naïveté made Haldir smile. “Well,” he replied, “one of us will have to untie the knot and swim to the other side, won’t he?”
“But... but why you?” Legolas said.
Haldir did not reply immediately. He bestowed his weapons on Ruigaul and Tinuril to be carried across the stream. “And you know what I’ll do when you drop them,” he warned them.
“Yes, you will skin us alive,” they said simultaneously.
Haldir grinned. “Precisely. Over you go, then.”
Ruigaul, who seemed not in the least intimidated, leapt onto the cord and walked across. Tinuril made to follow him.
“Why me, you wanted to know?” Haldir resumed, turning to Legolas with a rather serious face. “Well, because a captain is always the first and always the last, Legolas. Remember that.”
“But the current...” Legolas protested.
“... Is not that strong here, Legolas,” Haldir interrupted, not unkindly. “I have done this before, you don’t have to worry.”
Legolas nodded, and the next thing he knew, Haldir stepped out of his leggings and pushed a pile of clothes into Legolas’s arms. “I want to see them back on the other end,” he smiled. “Dry. If not, I’ll –”
“... Skin me alive?” Legolas suggested.
“No,” Haldir said, a fine curl by his mouth. “I’ll make you run back to Caras Galadhon to get me dry clothes, and *then* I’ll skin you and roast you on a small fire.”
Legolas grinned dumbly. After several seconds of this, Haldir said, “Come on, Legolas, we don’t have all day.”
Turning around abruptly, Legolas realized that he and Haldir were the only ones left. Cheeks flushing, he stepped onto the rope and hastily walked across it to join the others, pressing Haldir’s clothes to his chest in the meantime. When he stood safely on the bank, Ôlnathron untied the rope and took the end in his hands, winding it around his wrists several times. Legolas understood why when Haldir waded into the river with his end of the rope tied around his waist and started swimming with powerful strokes, while Ôlnathron took the rope in bit by bit.
The other lads used the moment to eat some lembas or drink water, but Legolas watched anxiously as Haldir swam to shore. When he was there and climbed up the bank, Rúmil stood ready with a drying cloth, which Haldir accepted gratefully. Ôlnathron coilted the rope and gave it to Orophin, who stowed it back into his pack.
The South Patrol had crossed the Celebrant.
~*~*~*~
The afternoon passed in practically the same fashion as the morning, the patrol marching along narrow paths. One notable, to Legolas very welcome difference: his backpack did no longer bother him and he was able to concentrate a little more on the surroundings. He found himself between Celairmir and Ruigaul as before, and sometimes the former would look back over his shoulder and tell him something about the flora and fauna he was seeing *and* hearing.
Apart from the scenery, there was one other thing of beauty that occupied Legolas’s thoughts that afternoon, until far into the night, and it was the memory of Haldir naked by the shore of Celebrant. The image returned to Legolas’s inner eye with short intervals, and it was a pleasant, be it somewhat embarrassing memory. He sure hoped Haldir hadn’t seen the quick downward flick of his eyes. It had been a reflex...
There was a rest late that afternoon, and Haldir took Legolas to a sandy spot not far from where the patrol was resting.
“Track-reading is also part of patrolling,” he told Legolas. “Are you trained in that?”
“A little,” Legolas said joyfully.
“Then take a look around here and tell me what you read.”
Legolas crouched down and did a research of the ground, the twigs and tracks he found there, and concluded that over the past twelve hours, the place had been visited by a boar with four young, one deer and a couple of mice.
“Very good,” Haldir nodded. “And this, what would you make of this?” he asked, indicating some tracks with the toe of his boot. They were not familiar to Legolas, but he could tell they belonged to a small animal with soft paws, which moved with leaps and hops, instead of steps.
As Haldir listened to Legolas’s earnest report, a soft smile appeared on his lips. “But you can’t tell me the name of the species, Legolas?” he asked amusedly.
Legolas shook his head, wondering if his memory was failing him. “I can’t remember ever having seen such tracks,” he said, “nor can I think of an animal that leaves behind trails like these.” He looked up at Haldir. “Which animal was it?”
This hiatus in Legolas’s knowledge puzzled Haldir, but he made sure not to show this. “It was a little rabbit,” he said.
“A rabbit!” Legolas’s eyes widened slightly. “But that explains why I don’t recognize it. We have no rabbits in Mirkwood.”
This took Haldir by surprise. “You don’t?”
“No. We have mice and squirrels and hedgehogs and several kinds of larger animals like deer, but no rabbits. We think that they once lived in Greenwood, but left or died out when the Shadow came,” Legolas said sadly. “They were probably hunted for meat.”
“Oh.” Haldir did not know what else to say.
“But there are rabbits living here?” Legolas said, eyes brightening again. “What do they look like?” he asked, and there was longing in his voice.
Haldir looked down at his pupil in wonder. Here was a young prince and warrior, with a quiver full of sharp arrows on his back and a glinting sword by his side, asking him in all earnesty what a rabbit looked like. It struck a hidden cord in Haldir for reasons unknown to him.
“They are like hares,” he said, “but smaller.”
Legolas gaped at him silently, no spark of understanding came into his eyes and Haldir knew that Mirkwood lacked hares, as well.
“Rabbits...” he began hesitantly, “... have short shiny fur, mostly grey or brown. Their forepaws are small, as the tracks show clearly, but their hind-legs longer and more muscular, with bigger feet.”
“Why?” Legolas asked.
“Because they use them for... for hopping,” Haldir replied. There was a certain absurdity about this moment, but at the same time it was so sincere and moving that Haldir wouldn’t have thought of laughing, even smiling. “They have a white, short, furry tail,” he continued, “a soft little nose that is always sniffing, and long floppy ears on the top of their head. Sometimes they can be seen in a meadow, eating grass peacefully, but when they sense danger, they sprint to safety with long leaps. They are swift as the wind.”
“Are they soft to the touch?” Legolas asked.
“I don’t know,” Haldir said truthfully. “They are very shy. But they look very soft, yes.”
Legolas nodded thoughtfully and asked no more.
“I know a song about a rabbit,” Haldir said with a smile.
“Would you sing it?” Legolas asked, delighted.
“Some other time, Legolas,” Haldir replied gently. “Come, let’s go back to the others.”
As they walked back together, Legolas asked after a silence, “Do you think I’ll be seeing rabbits soon?”
Haldir smiled. “Who knows, Legolas,” he said. “Who knows...”
~*~*~*~
They reached the southern border by nightfall. There they met the patrol they would be relieving, and they all climbed the ladder to the talan where they would be staying for the night. It was a border post, constructed there exactly with this objective. The other patrol would stay one last night before heading back to the city, in a talan not far from theirs.
After dinner, the Elves of the South Patrol laid themselves to rest, but Haldir came to Legolas and announced, “I am going to the second talan with Ôlnathron to consult with the captain of the other patrol. You have first watch, together with Orophin.”
“Yes, captain,” Legolas said, and he stood up to join Orophin who sat by one of the edges of the talan.
“I don’t know when I will return,” Haldir continued. “Don’t worry if I don’t come back soon. Rúmil, Celairmir, you have second watch, starting at midnight.” And with those words, he and Ôlnathron disappeared through the hole in the talan floor, climbing down the ladder.
“How was your first day, Legolas?” Orophin asked pleasantly as they sat side by side and gazed into the night.
“It was uneventful for the patrol,” Legolas said, “but quite exciting to me. I’ve been on explorations with Haldir before, but I have never been so far to the South. And being part of the patrol is an adventure in itself. It’s all so new.”
“You seem to cope brilliantly,” Orophin said. “I don’t think you need to worry about that.”
“Thank you,” Legolas said gratefully.
They conversed quietly as the patrol rested under the roof of the mallorn leaves, and time glided by. All was peaceful in the forest.
At length, Celairmir came over to take second watch. “It’s not midnight yet, Celairmir,” Orophin said kindly. “Get some more sleep.”
“It’s all right, I can’t sleep,” Celairmir said. “You go and rest, Orophin, I’ll take over. And besides, there is something I would like to discuss with Legolas.”
Orophin accepted this argument and got up, wishing them both good night and then seeking out his sleeping blankets.
Legolas regarded Celairmir curiously as the other sat down. “What do you want to discuss with me?” he asked him.
Celairmir smiled. “Was your first day like you had expected, Legolas?”
Legolas then spoke again of how he had experienced the day and its events, gave an impersonal report of the track-reading with Haldir, and said how the little ritual with his bow that morning had puzzled him.
“The captain does that with every Elf that joins the patrol,” Celairmir explained. “It’s very symbolic. After the weapon has circulated, we are all tied to it in a way. Our lives are now tied to your father, who gave that bow to you; the Mirkwood craftsmen, who made it; the tree that give the wood for it; and to you in the first place, the wielder. And every time you save a life with it, we will thank the Valar for bringing you and your bow in our midst.”
Legolas nodded slowly. “I think I understand... What is your weapon of choice?”
“The sword,” Celairmir said, patting it. “It’s an heirloom; my father owned it, and his father before him.”
“Has it saved lives?” Legolas asked.
Celairmir nodded. “Over the centuries, more than you can imagine,” he replied.
As they looked at each other, Celairmir smiled faintly. “Legolas,” he said, “there is something I have to ask you. Would you mind?”
Legolas shook his head. “Not at all...”
“It might come as a shock.”
“I am prepared,” Legolas smiled.
“Somehow I doubt that. But very well... Would it surprise you to learn that I find you very fair, Legolas?”
That *was* a bit of a shock. “Oh, er, I...” Legolas stammered. “I didn’t realize that...”
“I find that my eyes are drawn to you constantly,” Celairmir continued. “So before I lose my head and throw myself into this, I must ask you... do you think you could return my feelings, Legolas?”
Legolas gaped at him. For a moment, he had stiffened on the talan floor; not another pursuer! But no, this was different. He had never had such a sincere, gentle request before, and it didn’t make him feel uncomfortable at all; instead, it filled him with warmth. But he felt sadness rise within him at the same time. Celairmir did his name honour; he was a jewel, one of the fairest of the patrol, *and* one of the kindest, and Legolas felt flattered that such an Elf would choose him. But Legolas knew that his answer would be a disappointment to Celairmir, and he wished he didn’t have to give that reply.
“You... you are very kind, Celairmir,” Legolas said, “but – I do not think I can feel the same way about you; I... I am sorry.”
Celairmir nodded, smiling softly. “Do not be,” he said. “Somehow I knew what your answer would be, but I thought I had to ask all the same.”
“I never meant to make you sad,” Legolas said softly.
“It’s all right, Legolas, truly. I hope that we can still be friends after this?”
“Of course, we can,” Legolas said, surprised that Celairmir would even doubt that.
“Then, I’m not sad,” Celairmir said. “If you ever change your mind about me, please let me know.” The Elf smiled.
Legolas smiled back, still in awe of what was happening here. “I will,” he said.
Celairmir then leaned forward and briefly kissed Legolas on the cheek. Drawing back, he noticed that Legolas was watching him with slightly widened eyes.
“What was that?” Legolas asked breathlessly.
Celairmir chuckled. “It was a kiss. We use it to show that we care for each other.”
Silence. “Thank you,” Legolas said eventually, and as he said it, he moved forward to return the gesture. Celairmir was surprised, but received it with delight.
It wasn’t long after that when Haldir and Ôlnathron returned. Legolas and Celairmir were still talking softly.
“Where is Rúmil?” Haldir asked. “It’s past midnight.”
Celairmir rose to his feet. “It’s not Rúmil’s fault, captain,” he apologized. “I began my watch earlier and forgot to wake him when it was time. I am sorry.”
“It’s my fault as well,” Legolas said, also standing up.
Haldir regarded the two warriors for a moment. He looked tired, Legolas noted, and although his heart longed to talk to him and ask him what was wrong, he knew this was not the right moment. He could kick himself for blundering on the first night.
“Go to sleep, Legolas,” Haldir said. “Celairmir, wake Rúmil and make sure he *stays* awake.”
“Yes, captain,” Celairmir and Legolas said simultaneously and they moved to obey Haldir’s orders.
Legolas laid himself down and pulled his blanket up to his chin. Behind him, a yawning Rúmil joined Celairmir at the edge of the talan floor; in front of him, several meters away, Haldir and Ôlnathron sat down to discuss quietly, Legolas guessed, the things they’d heard in the other talan. They were still talking when Legolas finally tumbled into a peaceful sleep and saw feathery-soft animals with sniffing noses and floppy ears, hopping to and fro in his dreams.
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