From: "laurelin_enedlithien" To: Subject: [lassegalenslaire] Fic: Pilgrim: Wish Upon The Stars (22/?) Date: Monday, November 10, 2003 5:19 AM Hi all, to 'make up' for the shortness of the previous chapter, an extra long one this time. :-) Nah, it just happened to turn out this way. This story is nearing its completion folks; but not to worry, I plan to have another sequel following it. In the meantime, hope you like this! *hugs* Laurelin ******************************************************************* Wish Upon The Stars, by Laurelin (laurelin_enedlithien@hotmail.com) Overall rating NC-17 - this chapter: R. For all the official stuff, see chapter 1. Warnings: some hints at violence. ******************************************************************* Chapter 22 – Erefael Lórien Ah, but I was so much older then, I'm younger than that now. ~ Bob Dylan, `My Back Pages' Legolas was breathing heavily when he reached the talan that had become a home to him, the place in Caras Galadhon he loved being in the most. "Legolas," Haldir said upon his entrance, surprised by Legolas's flustered state. "Haldir," Legolas breathed. The Marchwarden had changed into other clothes as well, though he was still in the different shades of blue that complimented his natural beauty so well. If Legolas's heart hadn't already been beating rapidly after the ascension of the many stairs, it would have done so at the sight of Haldir as he stood there, waiting for Legolas with the calmness that was so typical of him. "Are you all right?" Haldir asked. "Why the agitation?" "I wanted to get here as soon as possible," Legolas said. "That I see. Can I get you a drink?" "No... no drink," Legolas said, trying hard to force his breathing into a normal rhythm. "Did you come directly from your talan?" Haldir asked. "No... I meant to, but I was drawn into the opposite direction. I met Lady Galadriel, who offered me to look into the Mirror." "Did she?" Haldir lifted an eyebrow. "That is a rare thing." He paused. "And what did it show you?" There was a certain apprehension in his voice, an anxiety. "Nothing," Legolas said, "I declined Galadriel's offer. I did not look." Haldir's brow smoothed slightly. "Why not?" "I prefer to stay unaware of what the future holds for me," Legolas said, "and I hope that you will give me answers to the questions I have, Haldir... at least some of them. I do not need the Mirror for that." Haldir looked at Legolas in wonder. Would the Mirkwood Prince ever cease to amaze him? He knew of few young Elves who would let an opportunity to consult the Mirror pass unused. It took the self- control of a much older Elf to resist the attraction of the Mirror. "Answers..." he repeated. "Yes, I think it is indeed time for those..." "Before you say anything," Legolas said quickly, "let me say something first." Haldir only gave a nod. The situation was awkward again, they stood facing each other, at least two yards separating them; but Legolas took a breath and began. Strangely he felt no fear, or hesitation; it was more like a relief, to finally acknowledge and put into words that what had been developing all along, confusing him and making him feel like he had never felt before. "You should know that I was in awe with you from the very first time we met, Haldir," he said. "Do you remember that moment?" "As if it were yesterday," Haldir replied softly. "So do I... I found you beautiful and kind and mysterious, but I enjoyed being with you for many reasons more. I felt attracted to you, even though I was too young and naïve to recognize this, and my feelings were still vague. They would probably not have developed any further if we had separated after the ceremony; but not all the consequences of the unfortunate events that took place that night were ill. My father sent me to Lórien, made you my mentor, and that was the only thing about the arrangement that gave me joy then; the prospect of being with you." Haldir stood looking at him, not moving. Did all this news come as a surprise to him? Legolas could not tell. "After that, my feelings for you have steadily grown," Legolas continued, "but I was still not able to recognize them as what they were. All I knew was that I admired you, enjoyed being with you, was eager to please you, wanted you to be proud of me... and that I wanted to become closer to you, always closer than I was. And this proved to be harder than I expected. You've never let your guard down, Haldir, never completely, though there have been moments when it almost happened; when we make music, for example. Never do you let yourself go so much as when you play, and that is why I never get enough of watching you, listening to you. But you are a riddle I have never been able to solve, Haldir. You are too complicated, but no less intriguing because of that. Since that first battle last year, I was too occupied with other things to linger on my feelings for you; they were smothered, so to say. But these weeks you have enchanted me again, awakened my feelings and stirred them up, more than you ever have; you seemed so much happier and more carefree than I have ever seen you. And that was also how I felt. All was just fine and easy. And then... what happened between us today." Haldir's mouth twitched slightly, and he seemed to brace himself for what would come now, looking anxious. Legolas noticed this. "I do not regret it, Haldir," he said to reassure him. "The only reason I could have to regret it would be if it meant the ruin of our friendship... and I pray it will not be so. As for what happened... I don't know if it was a mistake from your part, or a well-considered choice; it took me completely by surprise, but without it I do not think I would be able to admit to you right now... that I am in love with you." Haldir opened his mouth. "Legolas..." "Let me finish," Legolas interrupted. "I, too, fear the consequences this confession will have, Haldir, but I cannot lie to you, and if there are measures to be taken, we need to determine what those are before the situation gets terribly out of hand. I know that you are probably the most unfortunate choice for a love... only it was not a conscious choice of me. My blood and oath tie me to Mirkwood, your heart lies here in Lórien; the darkness is coming and chances are high that it will separate us, possibly forever. But that ancient saying is true; love cannot be guided by reason, and as long as I have known you, I have been unable to be even slightly interested in another." Haldir shook his head slowly. "I thought... Celairmir..." "No, not even him. You are Celairmir's bane, Haldir." Legolas smiled faintly. "Had you truly no idea of my feelings for you?" "I... knew you care for me," Haldir said. "But I think I refused to see there was more, though in my heart of hearts I suspected it, perhaps." He sighed and cast his eyes down. "I have not been completely open to you, Legolas." "You have been open to no one," Legolas corrected gently. "That is true," Haldir said, looking up. "Not even to myself in a way." "I have often wondered why," Legolas said. "You said you have alienated yourself. Made yourself lonely... I do not believe you were always like this." "No..." Haldir said. "Not always." He took a breath. "Do you really want to know me?" "Yes," Legolas said, "that is what I want more than anything." "You may not like what you hear," Haldir said softly. "Still I want to hear," Legolas said, "everything you are willing to tell me." Haldir turned slightly to the side and he seemed to ponder something. He looked quite tired and... defeated somehow. It hurt Legolas to see it, and again he was reminded of the age difference between them. At length Haldir spoke. "Instead of telling you," he said slowly, "I can also show you." "Show me?" Legolas was puzzled. "I can prepare you a special tea, according to ancient recipe, that will put you in a dreamless sleep. Then, by laying my hands on your head, I can establish a mental connection, after which I will be able to transfer my memories into your mind; you will then see the images in your dream, and they will tell you the happy story of my life." The tone of Haldir's voice when he spoke those last words was somewhere between mockery and sarcasm. "Everything?" Legolas was mildly stunned. He'd never heard of such a drink. "What I choose to show you. You'd sleep for thousands of years if you had to see everything, so I'll make a selection." Haldir smiled faintly. "But only if you give your consent. It can become quite intense, and images can be much more shocking than words. You might be disturbed by what you see." "Would you really do that?" Legolas asked. "I mean... you would let me inside your memory?" "Yes," Haldir said simply. "Doesn't that idea... scare you?" "In itself, no," Haldir said. "What I do fear is your reaction. I fear that you will think less of me." Legolas laughed briefly, incredulous. "Less of you? Haldir – I have you on a pedestal that reaches all the way up to Anar!" "Who stands high, falls deep," Haldir said very seriously. "Nonsense. Whatever I will see, I cannot imagine that it will make you sink in my esteem, Haldir of Lórien." Haldir nodded slowly. "Shall I start making the preparations, then?" "If you are really comfortable with this – yes, Haldir, I want to see," Legolas said. Then there was a silence while Haldir heated the water and went through his collection of herbs; Legolas watched him. This day had started out as average, but events were following each other in quick succession now; events Legolas could not have dreamed of the day before. And the ritual Haldir had described to him... well, it had to be true, but Legolas found the prospect a bit surreal. Would he really be seeing Haldir's past in his dreams? And how had Haldir obtained that recipe? It sounded like it could be dangerous in the wrong hands; Legolas was certain that not just any Elf in Arda was allowed to make that drink. Haldir was distant again, but Legolas assumed that he was concentrating on preparing the tea. What bothered him more was that Haldir had not yet reacted in any way to Legolas's confession; indeed, he had not been able to make out whether the news had affected Haldir positively or negatively. It took Haldir about ten minutes to prepare the tea, and he handed the cup to Legolas wordlessly. Legolas bent over to study the contents; the drink had a strange, purplish-red color and a strong, herbal smell. It would probably taste bitter. "Nothing like Dorwinion, sadly," Haldir said. "It's best to drink it all at once." "Does it work fast?" "Three or four minutes until you're fully asleep." "And when will I wake again?" "Once I break the connection." Legolas nodded slightly as he exhaled puffs of air into his cup. Haldir watched, his eyes shimmering like midnight lakes and just as deep. When the tea had cooled down to the right temperature, Legolas brought the cup to his lips and gulped it down, shivering at the taste, which was indeed bitter. Smiling faintly, Haldir took the cup from him and put it away. "How do you feel?" he asked. "I have a foul taste in my mouth," Legolas replied, not without humour. A kiss from your sweet mouth might help, he thought, but he did not say it out loud. At first, Legolas felt nothing out of the ordinary; but after approximately a minute, he felt himself go dozy. His eyelids started dropping and his limbs got heavier. "Best sit down before I have to pick you up," Haldir said, and Legolas vaguely registered that he was being ushered towards Haldir's bed and gently pushed down onto it. The mattress beside him dipped a few seconds later with Haldir's weight. Legolas swayed, felt Haldir's hands catch him by the shoulders and guide him to lie down until his head rested in Haldir's lap. He felt himself slide into oblivion quickly now, a dreamland without dreams. "Do you trust me?" Haldir's voice was soft and came from far away. "Yes..." Legolas said. "Haldir?" "Yes?" "Are you displeased that I told you all those things?" A reply did not come rightaway, but Legolas was vaguely aware of a warm hand coming to rest on his head. "No, Legolas. I am not displeased. But now is not the time to talk. Sleep now, we'll talk later." The last thing Legolas consciously heard, was Haldir speaking in Quenya, some sort of spell; but the words were almost unaudible, and the next moment there was nothing, except for a pleasant warmth enveloping his head. In Legolas's subconsciousness, it felt good; like a shield of some sort. How long this lasted, Legolas did not know; but suddenly, after an undefinable amount of time, there was a blur; a series of images, thousands of them, following each other in quick succession, so swiftly that Legolas could not make out what they were. Relax your mind, he heard Haldir's voice inside his head. I need a moment to organize my thoughts. Even as those words were being spoken, the maelstrom Legolas was in stopped, and the fuzzy contours of the dream image that took shape in front of him started to sharpen, until at last he saw it as clearly as if it were reality. He stood by a pool, which he – after a few seconds – recognized as the pool he and his father and Haldir had bathed in, the pool fed by the stream called Ivorlind. But there were no talans, no signs of civilization in the trees around him, and he realized Haldir had brought him back to a time before the surrection of Caras Galadhon. There, in front of him, rippled the stream of Ivorlind, as clear and soothing as Legolas knew it; and there, less than three yards away, sat an elf child by the stream. When standing, he would barely reach to Legolas's hip. He couldn't be older than twenty. If there was any doubt as to what the identity of this child was, it was taken away when Legolas noticed the small wooden flute the child was holding. He was playing it, and although the overall sound wasn't so bad for so young a player, it was obvious that he had many hours of practice to go yet; every time the instrument produced a false note, the boy frowned and shook his head in annoyance. He was wearing leggings, a tunic and a woollen jerkin; a long scarf was draped around his neck and over his shoulders and his soft boots had fur at the trim. His mother had obviously dressed him up warmly before letting him go outside; one look around told Legolas that it was Autumn, nearing Winter. Legolas suppressed a gasp when he got a first good look at the child's face; the soft features of a young child, hardly recognizable as the adult he would one day be; a small nose, thinner lips, the contours of his face rounder, especially his jaw and chin. But already those expressive, breathtaking eyes; not yet with the depth they would acquire over the years, but of the same color and with the same dark lashes. "Haldir!" Both Legolas and the boy turned to see two Elves approach. Obviously younger, but already grown-ups: Rúmil and Orophin. "Didn't I tell you he would be here?" Orophin said to his older brother. "That was no wisdom," Rúmil snorted. "We both know that nine times out of ten we can find him here." "I have done nothing wrong," Haldir said defensively, and Legolas did not recognize the child's voice he heard. "You shouldn't stray so far from home, Haldir," Rúmil said. "You know that mother worries about you when you walk beyond the boundaries of our city." "Do I have to come home now?" Haldir asked as he got to his feet. "Indeed you do." Orophin bent forward, lifted his little brother and made him sit on his bent arm. "Elflings like you shouldn't sit still so long in this temperature, pen-pigen. They should be playing soldier with their big brothers." Legolas saw a flash of dismay cross Haldir's face, but the boy replaced it quickly by an expression of acceptance and polite thankfulness. "What were you doing here, anyway?" Orophin asked. "I want to hear Ivorlind sing," Haldir said. "I thought maybe if I start playing, it will be tempted to sing to me." "Ivorlind will not sing to you, Haldir, you know that," Orophin said. "Why not?" "We told you a thousand times; you are too young." "Why?" "Because. And besides, if you want to tempt Ivorlind with your playing, you might want to practise some more, first," Orophin teased. "That is mean," Haldir said, indignant, his childlike pride genuinely hurt, even though he must know there was truth in Orophin's words. "Maybe one day you will hear Ivorlind's song, Haldir," Rúmil soothed, "but not yet. Orophin is right; you are much too young. Let us go home now and show mother that her little jewel is unharmed as always." "Can I ride on your shoulders?" Haldir asked, throwing Rúmil a winning smile. "And let you pull out my hair again?" Rúmil retorted. "Forgive me if I am not very excited about the prospect." "Ah, please, Rúmil?" Haldir begged. "Please? I won't pull out your hair again. I won't even touch it, I promise!" "Come on, then," Rúmil grumbled, and Orophin lifted a delighted Haldir to sit on the eldest brother's shoulders. The three brothers set off then, and Legolas could hear the youngest's chattering voice. "Now we can play that I am the King," Haldir said enthusiastically. "I am Amdir, and you are my mighty steed, and together we shall chase this lowly individual," – he pointed at Orophin –, "through our woods until he is through his last breath." "Oh no, not again," Orophin groaned right before he sprang away and started running, followed closely by a galloping Rúmil and a laughing Haldir. Legolas wanted to move his feet and follow them, but his surroundings began to blur and fade. No, no, he thought; I like this vision, I want to stay here. I'm sorry, Legolas, he heard Haldir say. We have to move on. After that, Legolas saw flashes of Haldir growing up; how he constantly grew out of his clothes, played games with his brothers, enjoyed wanderings in nature; there was his pride when his music improved, his delight when his grandfather gave him the strange silver flute and the frustration that followed. The indifference he felt toward combat and his dreamings of more beautiful things: nightly skies, flowers in bloom, music, exploring the world, love. And those were the things he occupied himself with the most. There were occasional travels to places outside Lórien; cities of Men, where he learned the Common Tongue. The world was safer then, for a young Elf travelling alone... And there were occasional lovers. First maidens, then males. Legolas saw some faces; they were Elves of a gentle nature, like himself. In love with the slim youth, and he with them; eager to please him and to instruct him in the art of love. The fear he felt when war threatened the beautiful world he had come to know. His father and brothers left to fight; would he ever see them again? His relief when they returned years later, and how he had made the life-changing decision to become a warrior; the beginning of his military career. How he had to learn to harden his heart, take lives without emotion. The same struggle Legolas had had to go through. Haldir grew older, stronger, established himself as a warrior praised for his dedication and his ability. His nights were lonelier, his heart less easily won. He did not visit Ivorlind anymore. Many centuries went by in this fashion. And then Legolas found himself in an unfamiliar talan. There was another Elf present, his hair was dark blond and his eyes of a glittering grey. He seemed not unkind, but there was something about his features that made him look a little grave. Judging by the robe he wore, he was a healer, and the many medicinal items stocked in the talan suggested that it was some sort of clinic. Legolas guessed that this took place during Amroth's reign, in the city that would later be called Cerin Amroth. Haldir walked in then, already very much Haldir as Legolas knew him, but something in his face and eyes told Legolas that he yet had to go through the dark events that had made him so solemn and lonely. He was in uniform and supported his right arm with his left, his elbow resting in his hand. The sleeve was dark with blood. "Is Talarin not on duty today?" he asked in surprise. "He is out," the healer answered. "I am his assistant and I man the clinic in his absence." "Oh, I have not seen you before," Haldir said. "Isn't that a good sign?" the healer smiled. "You must not have been harmed in months." "That is true," Haldir said with a laugh. "But I received a blow today." "That I see," the healer said. "Come further and let me look at that, soldier." "I am Haldir," Haldir said as he moved to stand in front of the other Elf and drew up his sleeve to reveal his injury. "My name is Erefael," the other said as he bent over Haldir's arm. "This is an ugly cut." Haldir shrugged dismissively. "I do not remember seeing your face in the streets," he said then. "I have been away from Lórien for a long time," Erefael said. "Please sit down there and lay your arm on the table, so that I can clean your wound and dress it." Haldir obeyed, and Erefael went around the room to collect some required items. "Do you hail from Lórien originally?" Haldir asked. "Yes," Erefael replied. "But I left for Imladris at a young age to receive my education." He set a basin of steaming water on the table and sat down on the other chair, facing Haldir. "Lord Elrond himself taught me," he said with a hint of pride. "Elrond himself? Really?" Haldir said. "He is the best teacher," Erefael said and he bent his concentration to the bleeding cut in Haldir's forearm, shoving a cloth under the arm and using smaller ones to clean and disinfect the wound. Legolas watched as the healer did his work. The two Elves conversed pleasantly, and although the signs were vague, Legolas sensed the beginnings of an attraction. It was the way they looked at each other that told him they were appreciative of each other's appearance. Legolas felt a strange flash of jealousy. Silly, he thought, to be made jealous by something that had taken place centuries ago. Still, Legolas suspected that he would be seeing more of this Erefael in the upcoming visions. And it was true. Once the scene in the talan had faded, a series of shorter visions followed; visions that showed Haldir and Erefael spending time together and obviously falling in love with each other. The images chosen by Haldir showed that he and Erefael, at least the first couple of years, formed a close, loving couple, and Legolas could sense how happy Haldir was in this period. It did not stay that way, however. There were arguments, Legolas caught flashes of them; irritations that escalated and turned into quarrels, increasing in intensity and frequency as time progressed. For although they were united in their love for each other, the two lovers were almost as different as day and night in their personality. At first they were challenged by and attracted to the differences, but after a while some of those came to stand between the two. This showed clearly in the names they called each other by sometimes; Erefael called Haldir `gil-rŷn', star-chaser, while Haldir referred to Erefael as `cae-tirn': earth-gazer. Haldir was romantic where Erefael was practical. When walking together, Haldir had his eyes on the sky while Erefael would practically drag his nose over the ground, looking for herbs, medicinal plants and flowers. This was an innocent, but symbolic example of how different they were. Erefael could not understand why Haldir was so smitten by things that were so fleeting and untouchable; the stars, the winds, particular scents in the air. Haldir, for his part, found Erefael pragmatic for focusing only on things he could touch, and feel. And there was more. Erefael was a pacifist, as he called himself. He was strongly opposed to anything that was linked to war and violence, for he saw the consequences every day, the bleeding bodies of Lórien's warriors. It bothered him that Haldir had chosen that path, a path that led him to danger, and away from Erefael for long periods of time. Haldir, in turn, found Erefael unrealistic for not acknowledging that this was the only way Lórien could be kept safe, and asked of him to understand and accept his reasons to place his life in the service of the army. This led to many disagreements. Erefael did not only worry about Haldir when he was away with the army. Sensing that their relationship wasn't exactly going smoothly, he feared that Haldir would find another lover among his comrades, one who did understand his choice and would offer him comfort and satiation while away from home. Haldir did not approve of Erefael's ungrounded jealousy and was hurt by his lover's lack of trust. This, too, was cause of many quarrels. Still, there seemed to be many good moments as well, good enough to make the relationship last throughout the years, even centuries. However, one of the last scenes that had Erefael in it, told Legolas that there was one difference of opinion that was greater than all the others, an obstacle that stood between them and slowly gnawed at their relationship. And Legolas knew that this gap would not be crossed from Haldir's side; Haldir was anything but selfish, but this was something he did not negotiate about. Legolas was in a talan that was strange to him, but the neatness of it and the arrangement of the furniture suggested that it was Haldir's. The air was fresh with morning's chill and the light was still pale. The two lovers were lying in bed, Legolas could vaguely make out their forms under the sheets. Haldir appeared to be asleep, but Erefael was lying on his side, head propped up on one hand. Watching. At length, Haldir stirred. "The Sun is up?" he said with a sleepy voice. "Why didn't you wake me?" "I wanted to watch you," Erefael replied. "You know I like to watch you sleep." "And I will never understand why," Haldir said. He leaned up, kissed Erefael briefly on the mouth and said, "I have to go." He slid smoothly out of bed and started to dress, picking up the parts of his uniform that lay scattered on the floor. Erefael groaned. "Do you really have to go?" "You know I do," Haldir said as he stepped into his leggings. "I'm already late, and lateness is not appreciated." "But when will I see you again?" "I'm not sure," Haldir said, slipping his tunic over his head and working his arms into the sleeves. "In about four weeks." Erefael sighed. "I have said this before, Erefael," Haldir said. "If you improved your warrior skills just a little bit, you could travel to the border with the army as one of our healers and spend more time with me." "And you know my answer to that," Erefael said. A hint of impatience had slipped into his voice. He sat up and draped the sheets about his waist. "You know I don't want to have anything to do with that. Violence... war." "Do you think I enjoy occupying myself with those things?" Haldir said, pulling his boots up to his knees. "There have been wars, and the threat of more is always there. We have to stand strong and keep the darkness away. We are forced to deal with this or we will all perish." "Others can fight," Erefael said. "No, I have to do my part," Haldir said firmly. "We all do." "Do I hear reproach?" Erefael said, one eyebrow pulled up. "No," Haldir said. "You do very useful work, you know that. But I am doing a suggestion here; one that means we can both continue doing what we do now, and still be together more often. It's the best solution I can think of." There was a silence as Haldir buckled his belt and fastened his cloak about his neck. "Haldir," Erefael said softly, "would you go to Valinor with me? Perhaps bind yourself to me, too?" Legolas gasped. Haldir turned slowly. "Excuse me?" he said, incredulous. "We can have the ceremony here, if you want," Erefael said, "before we go." Haldir gaped at him. "You are being serious, aren't you?" "Yes. All the evil in this world suffocates me. I am ready to leave. I want to leave it all behind and go to Valinor, with you. Imagine, Haldir; a land of peace." "Are you insane?!" Legolas stared at Haldir; he'd never seen his friend so furious. "Erefael – do you even know me at all? If you did, you'd never ask me to leave Middle-earth; to leave Lórien. You should know I will not do that." "Why not?" Erefael said. His voice was growing louder too. "Because this is my home! This is where my family lives. I love this forest, it is part of me." "And I am not?" "That is under the belt," Haldir said. "I love you and you know it." "And yet you will not bind yourself to me." Haldir made a gesture of annoyance and despair. "For goodness' sake, Erefael – is this really all the romance you can conjure up? Even if I was considering binding myself to you, your way of proposing is probably the very last I would be dreaming of. We're in the middle of a disagreement and you drop the question, just like that? What a union ours would be – we'd be scratching each other's eyes out!" "I admit I'm not the greatest romantic," Erefael said defensively. "But I do mean what I say." "Oh, I believe you do," Haldir said. "But how can you, in all earnesty, ask me to give up everything that is important to me: my position in the army, my homeland, my family and my friends? Somehow I think that someone who asks that of me, does not really love me." Haldir sounded both angry and sad as he said that. "Don't say that!" Erefael cried. "I do love you... and I don't want to lose you in some war, while I know that it can be avoided." "That is the price we pay," Haldir said coolly. He'd attached his sword to his belt, now he picked up his bow and quiver and shouldered them. Throwing a last glance at Erefael in the bed, he said, "You can have me the way I am... or not have me at all. Think it over, Erefael. You have four weeks to figure it out. Goodbye." And without looking back, Haldir strode out of the room. Legolas was still recovering from what he had seen and heard, when a new series of visions passed before his eyes. After that morning, Haldir had marched to the eastern border with the army. It was the year 1981 of the Second Age, a year that would be marked as the blackest in the annals of Lórien. Legolas knew the story, both from history class and from Haldir's reports, but he had not thought he would ever see it with his own eyes. The appearance of the Balrog in Moria had drawn large numbers of Orcs and other evil creatures to the mountain caves where Dwarves used to dwell. Lórien's western border was not prepared for such hosts, and the Orcs could enter the woods quite easily. Lórien's army concentrated on the eastern and northern borders in that time, and the enemy reached the settlement that would later be Cerin Amroth practically unchallenged. It was then that many Elves fled to the South in hope of finding a haven from which to sail to Valinor, but many were killed in the attempt. Regiments abandoned the borders and came hurrying to the battle scene, but there was too much chaos for an overall strategy. Legolas caught flashes of Haldir fighting, Rúmil and Orophin always close at hand. It was so lively that Legolas reflexively wanted to reach for his bow. He saw Cerin Amroth, deserted, its streets scattered with bodies; it was horrifying. Haldir ran there, slaughtering every Orc that dared cross his path, and searching frantically for the one he had left there. But Erefael was nowhere to be found, and he had not been seen by anyone for hours. Haldir was victim to despair and doubt. Had Erefael done like those others? Had he gone south, intending to leave Middle-earth and go to Valinor, something he would have done earlier if Haldir hadn't insisted on staying? It was very possible, Haldir thought, given the nature of their parting. He kept searching, against his better judgment, until Rúmil and Orophin dragged him away. They needed to regroup, lead the living and the injured to a safe place. This was done, and they took refuge on the hill of mellyrn that would become Caras Galadhon. The evening was falling, and still small groups of Elves arrived, finding their way to the hill that offered a safe haven for now. Many were supporting injured kinsmen, some were carrying the dead or the dying. Haldir was still searching, going along the rows of injured and dead Elves on the ground. He saw several healers doing their work, but Erefael was not among them. He was nowhere to be seen. Haldir had some shallow scratches and cuts that needed some tending too, but no one could convince him to stop searching and surrender to the care of a healer. The last words that had been spoken between him and Erefael kept haunting him, as well as the thought that maybe there would never be a chance to make up. And then, after what seemed hours, Orophin appeared by his side, looking grave. "Haldir, you must come with me," he said. "What?" Haldir felt cold fear creep into his heart. "Why? Is it Erefael, did he come?" "Haldir..." "Orophin, tell me. What happened? Is he dying? Is he dead?" Orophin put a hand on Haldir's shoulder. "I am sorry, brother," he sighed. Haldir ran as swift as his feet would carry him, arriving just in time to see two Elves, friends of Erefael, carry his lover to where the other slain Elves lay. One glance told Haldir that Erefael was far beyond saving, and he stood stock-still, staring at the strange, lifeless face as the two Elves passed him by with Erefael between them. "Where did you find him?" he whispered. "Was he heading south?" "We found him not far from the city," one of them replied gravely. "It looks like he was going east, but he did not get far." Haldir fell onto his knees by the body of his lover. "Gods!" he exclaimed woefully. "Erefael, you fool – did you really think you could find me in today's chaos? Did you really think you could make it on your own, unharmed – you, with your minimal skill in combat? Why didn't you heed my advice? You were afraid of losing me and now I lose you..." But Erefael could not give any answers, and never would. He would never be able to tell Haldir what had come over him to leave the relative safety the company of others offered and head east on his own. But Haldir knew for a certainty that it had everything to do with him. And he would always taste the bitterness of that last argument, for which he would never be able to apologize. Haldir broke down and cried then, long and silently, crushed by the weight of his guilt. Legolas watched in horror, wanted to reach out and comfort him, forgetting that it was a dream image. But the scene faded, and Legolas saw the arrival of Celeborn and Galadriel, how the woods were being reclaimed by the Elves. How Haldir fought, forcing the thought of Erefael from his mind. Celeborn and Galadriel agreed upon becoming the Lord and Lady of Lórien, and the building of a new city was begun; the dead were mourned and buried. The remaining Lórien Elves licked their wounds. Haldir was a mess; broken and miserable. Legolas saw his pale face, his dull eyes, saw the concerned faces of Rúmil and Orophin and felt their fear: Haldir's life strength was seeping from him and he was not offering resistance. Was Haldir giving in to the call of Mandos? Rúmil and Orophin begged him to fight it, but he could not. "I am done fighting," he said. And then one day Galadriel visited him, unannounced. Haldir's condition was worsening; he was lying in bed, the skin beneath his eyes greyish-blue. He was slowly wasting away. Galadriel talked to him, reasoned with him, but Haldir shook his weary head, said that he had no strength left, no will to live. He was of no use anymore... "That is untrue," Galadriel said. "Do you have faith in Celeborn and me, Haldir?" "Yes, my Lady..." "We were impressed by your handling of the situation, and we both feel you can be of great worth to us. Of great worth to Lórien, Haldir... So many have perished already. I can not believe that you came through this battle alive to be lost to this land after all. This new city we're building, it is the first step to make Lórien glorious once again. We need you in it." Haldir looked doubtful. "Can you not find reason to live in that, Haldir? The hope for a new glory, your devotion to this land..." "I do not know if it will be enough," Haldir said hoarsely. "There is more," Galadriel said. "Your brothers cannot miss you; and I had a vision yesterday. It told me that you have a part yet to play in Middle-earth, Haldir." "What kind of part could that possibly be?" Haldir asked. "I am not sure... but I saw you walk in darkness, and everywhere you went the darkness grew less deep. You walked until the Moon started to rise overhead, but beautiful and vigorous though he was, he could not pierce the darkness on his own. He then sent one of his beams down to you, and in it he poured all the light he had to give; you caught it, and it burned brightly in your hands, so brightly that the darkness fled for it, revealing the beauty of this Earth." "But what can that mean?" Haldir asked, confused. Was the vision about Erefael? His name meant `beam of light', after all. But how could that be? The Halls of Mandos did not give souls back... "I do not know," Galadriel replied. "But it told me that we cannot lose you yet, Haldir of Lórien." She smiled down at the confused Galadhrim. "Think about it," she said. "Mandos is not interested in you; if you do meet him soon, it will be because *you* wished it so." She stood. "I will come and see you tomorrow," she said and after that, she left the room, leaving Haldir alone with his thoughts. Rúmil and Orophin were overjoyed when not much later, Haldir displayed signs of slow healing. But even long after his recovery, he was not the same Elf. Without Erefael, his dedication to Lórien was indeed the only thing he lived for; it even earned him his position as Marchwarden and one of the most desired talans in Caras Galadhon. It was in this time that he surrected that imaginary wall around him, distanced himself and retreated to his private space where not even his brothers could reach him, much to their concern. He was no longer in danger of dying; but he wasn't exactly living, either. He took no lovers anymore, no matter how many candidates there were, and he abandoned his music. It reminded him too much of Erefael; music had been one of the few things they were always harmonious in. And always there was that guilt. It had him bolting upright in the middle of the night, perspiring and disoriented. Afraid of his dreams, Haldir reduced his sleeping to a minimum, until he could do with two or three hours per night. Questions from his concerned brothers he waved away. They could not help him, and he was too weary to talk about it. His heart was empty. He became a loyal servant to Celeborn and Galadriel, and he was often called upon. He accompanied Celeborn on travels several times; to Imladris, to Mirkwood... Legolas's breath hitched in his throat when Haldir showed him a memory of one of those travels; the royal pair welcoming Celeborn, Legolas's father and mother side by side, unconcerned and happy. Legolas was sad when this scene, too, faded eventually. Six hundred years had passed since Erefael's death, when Haldir was requested to lead the guard escorting Lórien's representatives to Mirkwood. Meeting the King again, who was flanked not by his wife this time, but by his son, who, Haldir secretly thought, was one of the fairest Elves he'd ever seen. And one of the gentlest, too. It was not hard for Haldir to like him. But when he promised Thranduil to teach his son, he had no idea yet of how things would develop. He had no idea that he would grow so attached to this young Elf that after two years, the fear of seeing him leave was almost unbearable. But Legolas had chosen to stay, and Haldir now showed him without words how he had done what no Elf had been able to do for a long, long time; fill Haldir's life with joy again, make him wonder why he had ever wanted to die, and make him feel like a carefree young Elf; *almost* carefree, for the more he grew attached to Legolas, the more he feared he would lose him. Not only was there the very real fear of losing Legolas literally, in battle; there was also the inexplicable apprehension he felt when he saw Legolas with Celairmir. Why did that bother him, anyway? Haldir was forced to deal with emotions he'd thought he would never experience again. Didn't his heart belong to the memory of Erefael alone? Hadn't he determined that long ago? Why was he faltering? It both frustrated and confused him. And it made him happier than he had been in a very long time. Legolas was so genuine and beautiful. But somehow Haldir thought he did not deserve that happiness. And why, by Ilúvatar, did it have to be a prince from Mirkwood who turned the tide and made Haldir question his own way of living? A prince who'd sworn his loyalty to that realm. Haldir brooded and longed and doubted and drove himself almost insane with his musings. But all of that suddenly mattered no more. It seemed distant and unimportant when Legolas looked at him like that in the meadow. He wanted to be afraid no longer. He wanted to feel again. And he wanted to know the taste of that beautiful mouth. Varda, yes; how much he wanted that. It would be folly to deny that any longer. After that, the fear returned of course; where to go from here? There was no turning back... Legolas began to stir at that point. I have seen enough, he thought, and his mind started to fight against the sleep the tea had brought him in. I will bring you back, Haldir said. There was a blur again and a blackness, and the next moment the connection was broken and Legolas was back in Haldir's talan. He sat up with a start. It was dark in the talan, the little lamp that had been burning before he fell asleep had gone out, and the only illumination was provided by the Moon. Haldir sat watching him. Legolas noticed that he looked very weary. The ritual must have drained him, and Legolas wondered if Haldir had seen the visions as clearly as he had. If so, it was no wonder that Haldir had that sorrowful glow in his eyes. "By all the Valar," Legolas said softly, "Haldir..." It was almost too much to digest; his head burst with all the images he'd seen. But he knew now... "Erefael was killed, we learned later, by a band of Orcs from Mirkwood. After that, I believed no good could come from that forest," Haldir said softly. "What a fool I was." He reached out a hand to lightly cup Legolas's cheek, his thumb gently tilting the younger warrior's chin up. "I mourned Erefael and closed my heart," he continued. "I thought I did so out of love, but it was little more than guilt that drove me to live a cold life for six hundred years. Erefael was not my first lover, but I considered him my first love. We had many good moments and many bad; yet the good ones made it worthwile. I counted myself blessed." Haldir's eyes, dark and shimmering, slid slowly over the contours of Legolas's face before returning to gaze into the prince's lighter orbs again. Legolas held his breath; he was so close, Haldir... "But this..." Haldir continued softly, and suddenly his fingertips slid over Legolas's face, their caress soft and warm like sunshine. "This is new to me..." There was wonder in his voice and upon his face. "I told you that the stars granted one wish for me," he said. "It was a wish I did shortly after my recovery from the first stages of fading. I wished that one day the moment would come when I would be thankful for not having died. And that day has come, and has been followed by many others. It was the day you first laid eyes on Caras Galadhon; I saw your reaction and I was thankful then, that I was still here to be your guide." "I am thankful too," Legolas whispered. His throat felt strangely thick. "What would my stay in Lórien have been like without you?" "That is not important," Haldir said. "What matters is this... and how we handle the situation from here." "Is that so hard a decision?" Legolas said hoarsely. "I love you..." Haldir did not smile. "Do you really? I am far too old and weary for flings, I think you will understand why now that you have seen the visions. Most Elves your age would not be ready for what I offer you; it is too much too soon. They enjoy a tryst with an older warrior and move on... Perhaps they develop an infatuation, but not more. I would not be able to take it..." "But that is not who I am, Haldir," Legolas said softly. "It is not a tryst I want and I am not merely infatuated. Didn't you listen? For five years I have wanted no one else. I could have had so many older warriors if I wanted flings. I may be young, but I know what I want; who I want. Don't you know that I am as hopeless a romantic as you are, Haldir?" "I fear I will crush you with the weight of my love," Haldir replied. "Scare you away..." "When it comes from you, it will never be too much," Legolas said passionately. Haldir looked at him. He knew it was the truth, for Legolas was not a liar; but did the youth really know what this meant? He said he did. How Haldir wanted to believe him. "I would never hurt you," Legolas said softly. Haldir took Legolas's face between both hands. He would believe him, then. Trust him. Trust him with his heart and soul. What else could he do? He wanted this. He wanted this so badly it made breathing almost impossible. He gazed into Legolas's eyes and they told him, Legolas wanted this, too. Just as badly. When he kissed the prince, it was bolder than it had been earlier that day. He was tired of thinking. He wanted to think no longer; he wanted to feel. He wanted what he probably couldn't have: Legolas close to him, every day, until the end of days. Close enough to touch, close enough to feel. It would not happen, he knew that; but they had tonight to start with. And even if loving Legolas this night meant regretting it in the morning, the rest of his life, every single second of it would be worth that price. Haldir was defeated. He did not know how Legolas had bewitched him and what the youth did to make him feel like this, but it felt inexplicably good and Haldir wanted to feel this way; he wanted nothing else... Legolas's response to the kiss was astounding; he reacted with the same passion Haldir displayed, winding his arms around Haldir's neck and melting into his love's embrace as if his body were made to do just that. As new as this was to him, Legolas, too, shut down his mind and allowed his body to take over. So when the two of them fell on the mattress, still engaged in a desperate kiss that refused to end, and Legolas's hands reached for the bindings of Haldir's tunic as the other hovered over him, beginning to pull at them more powerfully than he had intended; well, that was not Legolas's mind working there. There was no turning back indeed. And that was exactly how both Elves wanted it to be. ... to be continued... *** A/N: pen-pigen: `tiny one' *** ------------------------ Yahoo! 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