Title: The Gift
Author: Khylaren	
Contact: Khylaren@yahoo.com 
Fandom: LOTR 
Rating: NC17
Disclaimer: I do not own these characters, they are the property of JRR Tolkien and his estate. I’m not making any money off of them, I’m only playing with them for a bit and I promise to put them back where I found them when I’m finished.  This story is a work of fiction and for entertainment (mostly mine!) purposes only.
Warnings: Consensual love between males
Betas: Larien Elengasse
Cast: Legolas/Haldir, Merry/Pippin (implied), Frodo and the rest of the Fellowship
Timeline: FOTR
Spoilers: well, if you haven’t read the book or seen the movie, none!
Revised: 2/29/04

Summary: The fellowship takes its rest beneath the trees of Lothlórien, but Legolas can find no peace.  Haldir helps to ease his grief over the loss of Gandalf and the perils the fellowship faces, with unexpected results for them both.

< > < > < >

The others were taking their well-earned rest beneath the grand trees of Lothlórien, but Legolas found that he could not join them.  Grief and weariness beyond anything he had ever felt kept him from slipping into his usual meditative state that most elves used in lieu of sleep.  He sat up from his bedroll, reaching automatically for his quiver and bow and strapping them into place.  His knives followed suit, sliding without a whisper of sound into the matching sheathes on either side of the quiver.  Rolling easily to his feet, he cast a final glance at his slumbering companions.  His lips curved briefly into a smile as Gimli’s snore rattled the leaves of the trees above them, and he moved soundlessly away from his comrades.  He was not sure where he was heading, but he needed the peace and solitude of the forest to deal with his pain in his own fashion.  

The lament for Mithrandir was still being sung, the rising melody and harmony of the elves of the Galadhrim wove hauntingly through the night air.  He did not listen to the words they sang; as he had told Merry in the glade earlier in the evening, his grief was still too near to acknowledge the words.  Instead, he let the sound of the singers voices wash through him, letting the melody alone be his wordless tribute to the wise old man who had been his friend and trusted companion.

Stepping lightly over a fallen log, Legolas paused, feeling tears of grief prick at the back of his eyes, causing him to swallow hard.  It was not just the loss of Mithrandir that pained him, although it was foremost in his mind.  He found himself thinking of their quest, and felt a moment’s despair wash over him at the enormity and hopelessness of it. The odds against them seemed insurmountable.  How could they ever hope to succeed, especially now that they had lost their guide and friend to darkness?  Without the Maia, how could they possibly complete their quest?

“You should not walk alone this night, Legolas, son of Thranduil.”

Startled, Legolas turned towards the elf who stepped out behind the tree, silently berating himself for being so distracted he had not heard him approach.  

“Good evening, Haldir of Lorien,” he managed to say, feeling faintly embarrassed that the marchwarden had discovered him in this state.  

Haldir studied the younger elf before him, noting the wetness of his cheeks and the eyes that still glistened with tears yet unshed.  Legolas’ grief was understandable, and it moved something within the guardian’s heart to see him in such a state.  He knew Galadriel had given the Fellowship words of comfort, trying to ease their pain, but it was obvious to him that his Lady’s words had not fully healed Legolas.

“I would walk with you,” he said finally, gesturing to the barely visible path before them. “There is something I think you should see before you leave the Golden Woods.”

Legolas hesitated, torn between his desire to share his grief with another of his kind, and his embarrassment over his loss of control.  All elves grieved, some more openly than others, but most considered it a private matter.  He realized that there could be comfort in opening to Haldir, who was mostly unknown to him and would therefore not have any preconceived expectations of him.  Silently, he nodded his assent.

Haldir led, his booted feet making no sound as he guided Legolas through the trees.  He saw the younger elf wipe his face surreptitiously against his sleeve out of the corner of his eye, but carefully avoided looking too closely at him.  He felt the other’s presence at his side as he led him deeper into the trees, farther away from the city and his companions.  Neither spoke, but Haldir could feel the Prince’s silent awe of the beauty that surrounded them.  

The trees gradually gave way to a small clearing, and it was there that the marchwarden led him, coming to a halt beside him.  

“Look,” Haldir commanded quietly, gesturing at the center of the clearing.  Legolas glanced at him questioningly, but the older warrior gave him no reply, simply repeating his gesture.  

Curious, Legolas entered the clearing and walked to the center of it, his eyes opening wide in wonder and appreciation at the scene that greeted him.

The unicorn looked up from its grazing at the elf’s approach, its ears swiveling forward in curiosity as it regarded him without fear.

Legolas felt his breath catch in his throat as the wondrous creature regarded him, its luminous eyes clearly speaking of intelligence beyond that of animals.  Pure white and almost painfully beautiful, it, no, she watched his cautious approach of her without looking away, her deep eyes holding his until he stopped merely a handbreadth away.

She felt the pain and sorrow that emanated from him, and she gave a small whinny of distress, stepping closer too him, her soft breath blowing gently on his face.

He felt her warm breath, smelling of grass and sweet clover, touch his face and the grief he had tried to hide from Haldir erupted without warning. He buried his face in the soft white neck she offered him, wrapping his arms around her solid form, his fingers loosing themselves in the silky softness of her mane.  She stood patiently still as he wept, his tears soaking the pristine coat with his grief.  He heard the soft rumbling sounds she made within her throat, comforting noises that helped bring out his pain and wash it away.  Gradually he became aware of the warmth that emanated from her – a warmth that reminded him of peaceful times, joyous times, times of great and profound happiness.  The warmth spread gently through his limbs, easing the pain and weariness, pushing away his fears and doubts; until finally his tears subsided, and he felt more peaceful than he had since the beginning of the Fellowship’s perilous journey.

Reluctantly, he relinquished his embrace of the unicorn, stepping away from her, although is fingers still lingered on softness of her mane.  She was regarding him once more, and once again he was struck by the intelligence he saw in her eyes.

Somehow, he realized, she had taken away his pain, and for that he was grateful.  He found a renewed sense of purpose in the quest, a belief that not all was as hopeless as he had thought.  Even without the help of Mithrandir, all was not lost.  He smiled then, and he caught the echo of it in her eyes.

“Thank you,” he said quietly, stroking the soft neck once more.

**“You are most welcome, Prince of Mirkwood,” ** came the surprisingly gentle voice inside his mind, startling him.  She nudged him softly with her nose, mindful of the ivory horn that gleamed like mithril in the light of the moon.  **“You must be strong for the others, but do not harden your heart against that the world.  Your strength lies in your compassion, Legolas, son of Thranduil. You have the tremendous capacity for love. Use it wisely.”**

He felt her words resonate within his mind and trembled at the power behind them.

“I will do my best, Lady,” he returned, hoping that it would be enough.

She did not speak again, but blew a soft breath against his face, before turning away from him.  He watched her leave, stepping into the forest that surrounded the clearing and disappearing from his view.

“Did she speak to you?” Haldir asked from his elbow, startling Legolas for the second time that evening.

Legolas turned to look at the other elf and nodded, still somewhat in awe of what he had just experienced.

A smile lifted the corners of Haldir’s mouth. “You are fortunate. She does not always speak to those she comforts.”

“Who is she?” Legolas asked, wonderment coloring his voice.

Haldir shrugged gracefully. “She has always been here, since before the elves.  We do not know where she came from, but since we arrived in the Golden Wood, she has been there to offer solace to those truly in need of it.”  There was a faint catch to his voice that none but another elf could hear.

Legolas regarded the Marchwarden beside him for a moment before speaking. “Has she come to you?”

Haldir’s lips twisted briefly, and he closed his eyes against memory. “Yes,” he replied reluctantly, opening his eyes once more; he could not avoid Legolas’ gaze.  “A hunting party of Orcs attacked the border and I lost someone in the battle.  It was his first day on border patrol, and he was very proud to be there.”

Legolas placed a gentle hand on Haldir’s shoulder, seeing the other elf’s distress at the memory he had unintentionally invoked.  Haldir touched his hand briefly and gave him a quick smile in return.

“The terrible grief has passed, but the memory of it still haunts me at times.  Aldumil was like a son to me, though we were not close kin.  I saw him born, watched him grow into the elf he became, and was proud of him when he was accepted into the border guards.  His mother and father had already left for Valinor by the time he reached his majority, but I took him under my wing and taught him the skills I knew.”

Legolas nodded, understanding the closeness of the bond the two must have shared.

“After he was killed, I took leave, at the Lady Galadriel’s insistence, from my duties as Marchwarden.  I could not cope with his loss, and like you, I could not show my pain openly to those around me.”  Haldir paused, his gray eyes unfocused as he relived the memory. “I wandered the paths of the Golden Wood alone with a broken heart and empty soul, feeling as if I would die from my pain.  She found me here, and her touch healed my heart.”  A smile briefly lightened the serious features of the handsome guardian. “She spoke to me then, and told me that I needed to live, that a task of great importance lay ahead of me, and that I must not fail in my charge.”  He looked at Legolas, his hand clutching the one at his shoulder. “She gave me hope again.”

Legolas smiled wistfully. “I wish she could touch the heart of the Ring-bearer, for I fear the darkness that even now he battles within him.”

“The Lady Galadriel will see to his comfort,” Haldir replied, moving away from the Prince to sit on a nearby rock, his hands resting easily on his thighs. “She alone understands his loneliness and suffering – she too bears a ring of power, although it is a ring of light, rather than darkness.”

“Does the Lady know of the unicorn?” Legolas asked, taking a seat beside him on the rock.

Haldir nodded, his eyes on the evening sky and the stars above them. “She does, and is grateful for her presence. While my Lady is a skilled healer, she cannot always heal the despair within the hearts of her people.”

Legolas crossed his legs, leaning back slightly on his elbows to watch the nighttime sky.  His grief for Gandalf was still there, although it was much more bearable now.  He found comfort now in the solid presence and strength of the Marchwarden beside him.

“Thank you for helping me, Haldir,” Legolas said softly, turning his gaze away from the stars to study the profile of the other elf. 

A sigh escaped the warrior, and he turned to smile ruefully at his companion.  “I must admit my motives were not quite altruistic,” he said softly, his gray eyes sliding over Legolas’ fair features with open appreciation.  “I wanted a chance to get to know you before you left, but I feared to approach you.”  He sighed again, looking back up at the stars. “I felt your pain the moment I saw you, and knew I had to help you any way I could.  At first, I thought to offer you physical comfort, but your pain ran deeper than that, and I knew that you needed something beyond what I could give you.”  He glanced at his companion once more, smiling at the expression on the Prince’s face.

“You surprise me,” Legolas managed to say, a faint blush coloring his cheeks.  The marchwarden had given him several brief looks while Aragorn was pleading with him for his assistance but had dismissed them as simple curiosity. He had not attributed anything further to it.

Haldir lifted a dark eyebrow. “You are surprised that I would find you attractive?”  He chuckled softly, watching the younger elf fidget with embarrassment. “Surely you know how beautiful you are, Legolas Thranduilion.”  He reached out and touched the soft skin of Legolas’ cheek, admiring the smoothness and silky texture of the skin. “Even the men of your party are not unaffected by it, for I have seen the way they look at you when you are unaware.”

Legolas frowned, pulling away slightly from Haldir’s touch, although he had to admit he had enjoyed the brief caress. “Do not jest in such a way,” he said firmly. “I bear nothing but love for Aragorn, but it does not extend beyond friendship. As for Boromir, I respect his strength, but I fear the darkness within him far too much.”

Haldir nodded. “I, too, have sensed this darkness within the Lord of Gondor.  The ring is ever on his mind.  It uses his fear for his people to work its evil upon his heart.  I can see he is a good and brave man, but his fear will be his undoing.”

“The Lady has seen it as well,” Legolas agreed. “I am sure of it. Yet he must have a purpose within the Fellowship, or she would not have permitted him entrance to Lothlórien. ”

“Aye,” Haldir replied, watching the nighttime breeze tug playfully at the braids in Legolas’ hair. “I have seen the way he acts with the little ones. He is very protective of them, and loves them in his way.”

Legolas smiled, remembering well the scene of Boromir teaching Merry and Pippin swordplay, and how they had tackled both the son of Gondor, and eventually, Aragorn as well.  Indeed, he mused, the love that Boromir bore them was evident in all his actions towards them.  Even for Frodo, although the man’s love for the Ring-bearer warred with his desire for the ring; Boromir had not hesitated to protect him with his very life under the walls of Moria.

“You should smile more, son of Thranduil,” Haldir said softly. “You are truly beautiful when you smile.”

“Such things you say,” retorted Legolas, embarrassed once more. “You would turn my head with your idle flattery and golden tongue.”

Haldir moved closer, his hand reaching once more to touch Legolas’ face. “I would do more than turn your head,” he murmured, his thumb gently tracing the edge of Legolas’ jaw.  He felt the fine tremble that went through the Prince’s body as he brought his other hand up to cup his face. “I would show you what this golden tongue can do.”  

Legolas felt his body shiver as Haldir’s lips touched his own, softly, persuasively, coaxing a response from him that he had not expected.  His eyes closed and he gave himself to the sensations that the marchwarden’s touch elicited from him, feeling his body respond to the press of the warm and silky lips against his.

Reluctantly, Haldir drew back, releasing Legolas from the kiss. He saw with relief, and no small satisfaction, the desire he had awakened in his companion with his touch.

“Come,” he said quietly, extending his hand to the younger elf. “I would give you the comfort you need, for although you are no longer buried in your grief, you still require a healing touch.”

Legolas took a shaky breath and managed a quick smile, arching an eyebrow up at Haldir. “Your healing touch in particular?” he asked, accepting the hand that the marchwarden offered.

“Of course,” Haldir answered, delighting in the surprised gasp that Legolas gave when he pulled him to his feet and against his body, holding the younger elf firmly captive in his embrace. Once more, his lips pressed against Legolas’, and this time he coaxed them to open beneath his, darting his tongue into the sweetness there, reveling in the velvety softness of the mouth that moved under his.

Legolas trembled against the firm body that held him, feeling a moan build in the back of his throat, as he felt Haldir’s hands release him to cup his face, fingers threading themselves into his hair as he kissed him.  The guardian released his mouth to explore the smooth expanse of neck, and Legolas threw his head back with a gasp as Haldir’s clever tongue found a particularly sensitive spot beneath his ear.

Haldir spent several moments tasting and savoring the silky texture of the fair skin he found just above the neck of Legolas’ tunic, while his hands explored the lean but well muscled form before him.  He captured the Prince’s mouth once more, plundering the sweet depths with his tongue and felt the young elf’s quivering response to the intensity of his caresses.

Legolas had trouble thinking coherently as the marchwarden’s hands cupped his backside, pulling his hips against the other’s firmly, the sudden contact making him gasp.  A small part of his mind could not quite fathom what it was getting into – indeed it questioned the sanity of allowing Haldir to touch him in this manner.  Legolas had experienced passion before in the arms of other elves, mostly she-elves, but never had he given himself over so easily or so quickly.  He had been with male elves before; it was not uncommon for soldiers to relieve the combined edges of fear and aggression by using one another.  But even then, it had just been a few furtive moments of fumbling hands in the darkness of the tents, trembling fingers that stroked each other until their passions were spent.  The way that Haldir was touching him was far more serious – and Legolas suspected this would not be the simple and mutual release he had experienced with others of his sex, and he was both frightened and aroused by the thought of Haldir taking him, nay, possessing him in that fashion.

Haldir could sense Legolas’ apprehension and was puzzled by it. Surely this elf, who was as beautiful as a maiden, was no stranger to love between males? Especially considering the years he had spent with his father’s warriors.  Yet, perhaps it was so, for even as Haldir’s hands caressed the trembling body, he could feel the Prince begin to withdraw from him.

He pulled back, still holding the other elf close, and pushed a stray braid away from Legolas’ flushed face.  “What is wrong, mellonen?” he asked softly, touching the tip of the young elf’s ear with a finger, caressing its edge. “What frightens you so suddenly?”  He licked the sensitive curve just above the earlobe, his breath tickling the other elf slightly.

Legolas struggled to catch his breath under this new onslaught. “I…” he began, desire stealing his voice temporarily. He swallowed hard as Haldir’s fingers brushed briefly against his arousal before returning their exploration of his chest.  “I have never done this before,” he managed to say, closing his eyes and turning his face away from the warrior.

Strong fingers gently gripped his chin, forcing his gaze back to Haldir, who was regarding him with a smile, dark eyebrows raised in disbelief. “You think I will believe you are a virgin? Untouched? You, pen-velui?”  The marchwarden shook his head, chuckling softly at the flush on Legolas’ cheeks.

Legolas withdrew slightly, a frown marring his fair features. He stiffened under Haldir’s gaze. “I am no stranger to the acts between elf and maid, and, aye, I know what happens between two males, well indeed.”  He turned his flushed face away, suddenly uncertain that he truly wished to pursue what Haldir had started when he kissed him.

Understanding flooded the other elf’s face, and he reached out to bring Legolas’ gaze back to his. “You understand, but have not truly experienced it?” he asked softly, running his thumb over the full lower lip.  At Legolas’ nod, he smiled gently. “Forgive me, ernil vain, for assuming too much.”  He pressed his lips softly against the young elf’s, teasing the full lips with his tongue. He felt Legolas shiver and pulled back. “Do you want to stop, then?”

Legolas looked at Haldir, seeing the hunger in the other elf’s eyes, and yet it was tempered by a look of affection, almost a tenderness, that he had not expected to see.  His body was still aroused by the touches and caresses he had experienced, and he found that, despite his fear, he did not wish to stop and return to his slumbering companions alone.

“No,” Legolas replied, his voice so low the marchwarden could barely hear it. “I do not.”  With a sudden move that took the other elf by surprise, Legolas moved forward, his arms wrapping tightly around Haldir, and pressed his lips against his.

Haldir bit back a groan at the onslaught, responding in kind as his hands returned to their previous exploration of the elf he held in his arms.

Their hands explored and caressed, clothing was hastily unfastened and discarded, and the two elves found themselves entwined with each other on the soft grass of the clearing, lips locked together as each found enjoyment in the other.  Haldir had found all of Legolas’ weak spots and exploited them mercilessly, delighting in the moans and gasps he elicited as his clever hands caressed the beautiful body that lay stretched and trembling beneath him.  He could feel the hardness of Legolas’ arousal pressing against his belly, and he firmly ground his hips against the other’s, until the Prince was sighing with pleasure.  He captured his lips once more, his hand sliding between their bodies, finding the young elf’s firm length and stroking it deftly.  Legolas’ breath came quickly and he groaned, unable to prevent the sound from escaping him. 

Haldir chuckled softly, watching Legolas’ face as he gave himself over to the pleasure, finding joy in the look of pure abandonment on the Prince’s face.  He leaned forward and kissed the open mouth, swallowing the moans that his caresses brought.  He felt the lean body beneath him tense, and felt the warm release of fluids as Legolas reached his climax, the younger elf crying out his release was music to his ears.  Haldir’s hand slowed its movements gradually, and he felt Legolas quiver in response beneath him.  He kissed Legolas again, slowly, teasing the shy tongue of the younger elf into play once more.  His hand gently released its firm hold on Legolas’ arousal, sliding over the apex of his thighs to dip softly between the cleft of his buttocks.

Legolas’ eyes flew open in surprise as he felt Haldir’s fingers, coated and slippery from his own release, enter him, pushing inside the tight opening gently but firmly. He saw the question in the warrior’s eyes as the fingers continued to push against him, and he bit his lip uncertainly.

“I have never…” he began, gasping and arching his back slightly as another finger entered him.

Haldir kissed him gently, biting softly at his mouth while his fingers moved within their tight confinement.  He drew back, feeling Legolas tremble beneath him.

“I will not hurt you,” Haldir promised softly, kissing the lightly sweating brow. “I beg you to trust me on this, Legolas.”  He could see the younger elf’s uncertainty warring with the pleasure that was beginning to build once more.  His kissed the soft lips again, letting Legolas feel his passion, his need to do this.

“I trust you, Haldir,” Legolas replied with a sigh, reaching up to touch the other elf’s face. “Just be gentle with me.”

“Aye,” Haldir said with a tender smile. “I will.”

He sat up, kneeling back on his knees between Legolas’ legs, using his free hand to caress the softening length of his partner, bringing it to firmness once more.  Alternating his strokes with gentle but insistent pushes from his fingers within the Prince’s body, he brought the young elf to the peak of arousal quickly.  Leaning forward, he placed his knees on the insides of Legolas’ thighs, spreading the lean limbs beneath him.  He kissed the young elf firmly, removing his fingers from within his body to prepare his own hardness for the invasion, coating the length of it with the remaining fluid so that it was well lubricated.  Haldir heard Legolas whimper softly as he poised himself at the entrance of his body, and kissed him, pressing the tip of his arousal slowly against the opening there.

“Trust me, pen-velui,” he whispered softly, capturing his lower lip between his teeth and biting gently. 

Legolas felt the pain of the invasion keenly for a moment, his eyes watering and his body stiffening against it, trying to reject the slow and steady push inside him.  He felt the marchwarden grasp his length, giving it several strokes quickly that took his mind away from the pain for a moment, long enough for Haldir to sheathe himself fully within his body.  

Haldir gave Legolas time to adjust to his size, kissing the young elf’s tears away, feeling content for the moment just to be inside of him.  He was in no hurry, and he meant what he had promised to Legolas – he would not willingly cause him pain.  He felt the fine trembling of the body beneath him and heard the sweet sigh as Haldir caressed his body, licking and biting the smooth and tender neck, exploring the smooth skin of his chest and belly, before grasping the Prince’s length firmly in his lean fingers once more.  

The pain was fading, and in its place was a growing sense of pleasure;  Legolas gradually became aware that Haldir was moving inside him, sliding his length slowly in and out of his body.  His movements were matched by the sure and even strokes of his hand on Legolas’ arousal, and the Prince found the sensation of being filled to be heady in its pleasure. He gasped as Haldir’s thrusts became more forceful, and he found himself opening to the invasion, lifting his hips to meet the thrusts of his partner.  He heard Haldir groan with the sensation, and he echoed it, each thrust and stroke of the Marchwarden’s hand bringing him closer to the edge of fulfillment.

Haldir felt Legolas’ body relax and accept him, felt the quivering responses and heard the moans the young elf gave as he drew closer to his peak, feeling his own release close at hand.  He struggled to keep from reaching it too soon, wanting them to come together.  He increased his efforts on Legolas’ length, feeling the body tighten beneath him as the young elf arched his body, reaching his pinnacle.  With a cry of pleasure, he thrust deeply into him, spilling his seed into Legolas, feeling the warmth spread over his hand and the Prince’s answering cry of release.

The two elves lay together for a moment, trying to catch their breath, their bodies sticky with sweat and fluids.  Haldir raised himself up on one arm and looked down at Legolas, a smile warming his lips.  Legolas looked up, feeling both overwhelmed and content, and touched the marchwarden’s lips softly with his fingertips.

Haldir kissed his fingers before pulling reluctantly away, feeling a brief pang of disappointment as his now soft length slid out of the warmth of his lover’s body.  He curled up beside the younger elf, drawing him closer to him and cradling him against his chest, a sigh of satisfaction welling up from inside of him.

Legolas echoed the sigh, feeling more at peace than ever before.  He lay contentedly in the arms of the marchwarden, watching the night sky gradually lighten as the sun began to rise.  A sense of alarm awakened him from his languor, and he sat up quickly.

“What is it?” Haldir asked with concern, sitting up as well.

Smiling in a happily embarrassed fashion, Legolas began searching for his clothes and weaponry. “It is nearly dawn,” he said, finally locating his leggings, which were hanging from a nearby bush. “The others will wonder where I have been. Aragorn will be worried.”

Haldir raised an eyebrow. “I doubt that they will worry about you too much, maethoren vain,” he said softly, causing the other elf to look at him in surprise. “Most likely, they will still be asleep.”

Legolas shook his head, finding his tunic beside the rock that they had sat upon earlier that evening. “Aragorn is an early riser,” he said, pulling it over his shoulders, reaching for the fastenings. “He is always up with the sun.”

Haldir smirked, amused as the young elf struggled to fasten the shirt with trembling fingers. “I will lay your doubts and worries to rest, mellonen,” he said, rising to his feet in a fluid and graceful motion. “The Lady has ensured their sleep for the day, and they will awaken only when she feels they are well and truly rested.”

Legolas looked up from his struggles in surprise. “Truly? Why did she not include me in this enchantment you speak of?” he asked, watching the marchwarden dress.

Haldir paused, his face flushing briefly in embarrassment. “Perhaps,” he said slowly, turning to look at Legolas with a slightly possessive look. “She knew that you would find release from your troubles in another fashion.”

It was Legolas’ turn to blush. “You do not believe the Lady knew…” he trailed off, watching Haldir fasten his cloak.

The guardian smiled gently. “The Lady knows everything that goes on in these woods, but you have nothing to fear. She is most wise, and most discreet.”  He helped Legolas finish fastening his tunic, and handed him his previously discarded cloak.

Haldir watched him finish dressing, waiting until Legolas had fastened his cloak before taking the young elf into his arms.

“I know a place where we can bathe, and then afterwards get something to eat, if you like,” he said softly, placing a kiss on the Prince’s forehead.  “I would like to spend more time with you, if you will permit it.”

“I would like that,” Legolas said quietly, enjoying the feel of the other warrior’s strong arms around him.  

Haldir kissed him quickly and released him, handing Legolas his quiver and knives.  “I would like to see your skill with that weapon,” he said, eying the bow with interest. “Perhaps let you try one of our bows as well.”

The corner of Legolas’ mouth quirked upwards in a smile. “Perhaps I will give you a demonstration later,” he said.

“A contest of our skills, perhaps?” Haldir asked with a challenging smile.

“Perhaps,” Legolas agreed, following the marchwarden as they headed back for the trees. “So long as you do not mind losing,” he could not resist adding.

“Oho!” Haldir retorted, chuckling. “I doubt that I would lose, no matter how good you are with that bow, Legolas, son of Thranduil.”

“Would you care to wager on that, Haldir of Lorien?” Legolas shot back with an easy smile. 

“Aye, I would,” Haldir replied, stopping his pace long enough for Legolas to catch up with him. “I have a perfect wager in mind, in fact.”   He reached for the younger elf and pushed him against a tree, trapping Legolas between his body and the trunk of the mallorn that towered above them.  He kissed the Prince with force and passion, pressing his lean body against the one that trembled against the tree.

“And what would that be?” Legolas asked breathlessly when the marchwarden finally released him.

“I would have you to myself for an entire day,” Haldir replied, his fingers trailing through Legolas’ long hair, greatly enjoying its silky texture. “I would have you crying out beneath me as I rode your willing body to its peak of pleasure, for no sound in the world is sweeter than your cries.” He stepped closer, his gray eyes capturing Legolas’, mesmerizing the younger elf with their intensity. “I would take you and make you mine for that day, and I would delight in discovering how many ways I can make you writhe and moan.” His breath caressed the Prince’s sensitive ears as he continued. “I would have you call my name a thousand times and it would still not be enough.”

Legolas shivered with the intensity of emotion that Haldir’s words provoked in him, and it took all his composure not to take the elf up on his offer right then and there.  “And if I win?” he asked softly, trembling as Haldir’s lips touched his.

“And what,” Haldir asked between slow and lingering kisses, “Would you want if you won the contest?”

Legolas pressed himself against the lithe body of the warrior so that there would be no doubt in the other’s mind of his arousal. 

“The same, Haldir of Lorien,” he whispered softly into his ear, watching Haldir’s body shiver in response. “The very same.”

Haldir groaned deeply in reaction to Legolas’ words. “You will be the undoing of me, pen-vaelui,” he said with a sigh, reluctantly releasing his hold on the other. “Come, before I claim you here against the tree.”

Legolas chuckled, enjoying the fact that he had gotten past the marchwarden’s composure.

They passed the sleeping companions of the fellowship, and Legolas was relieved to see that Haldir’s words were true – even Aragorn was soundly asleep, his arm thrown up over his head in abandon.  He looked youthful in slumber, the worries of their quest momentarily erased from his brow, and Legolas was glad to see him so.  

“The dwarf snores so loudly,” Haldir commented quietly with a shake of his head. “How does anyone achieve any rest with that infernal noise?”

Legolas smiled fondly over at Gimli’s prostrate form. “One gets accustomed to it, I suppose,” he answered.  His eyes rested for a moment on Frodo, who even in slumber wore a troubled expression.  He touched Frodo’s forehead softly, smoothing the black curls away from his face, willing peace to descend on the young hobbit’s dreams.  The child-like face relaxed slightly under his hand, although not completely, but Legolas was satisfied that Frodo was resting more peacefully, and drew back.  He noted the protective presence of Sam lying next to Frodo, as close as he could possibly be without actually cradling his friend, and smiled, recognizing the love the other Hobbit felt for his friend for what it was.  He wondered if Frodo knew the depths of affection Sam bore for him, and doubted that the Ring-bearer was aware of it – his mind being occupied with the task at hand, he had no thoughts for anything but his quest.  

Legolas turned to look at the other hobbits in the group and smiled again.  Merry and Pippin were curled like puppies together, each holding the other close, even in slumber.  

“Those two bear great love for each other,” Haldir said softly, standing beside Legolas and looking down at the two sleeping hobbits. “That is their strength. It will help them to survive what comes.”

Legolas nodded, his expression troubled as he observed Boromir sleeping alone, away from the others. Like Frodo, his sleep did not appear to be entirely restful, and Legolas contemplated aiding his slumber as he had Frodo’s.  Stepping soundlessly across the glade, he crouched down beside Boromir’s sleeping form and touched the man’s forehead softly.  He knew what was troubling the Lord of Gondor, and it pained him to feel the torment within Boromir – the war between what was right, and what he was being urged to do by the evil forces within the Ring itself.  As with Frodo, Boromir’s expression relaxed somewhat under the gentle pressure of Legolas’ influence, and he sighed in his sleep, his face becoming more peaceful.

“You care about them all, even the dwarf,” Haldir said softly in wonderment. “Indeed you have great compassion, even love for them.”

Remembering the unicorn’s words in the clearing, Legolas nodded, rising gracefully to his feet. “I would give my life for any of them,” he admitted softly, turning his eyes to Haldir.

The older elf looked at him in surprise, and a bit of jealousy. “I envy them, that they inspire such devotion in you.”

Legolas smiled gently. “They would in you as well, if you were to know them as I have over these months.”

Haldir shook his head, his lips twitching slightly. “The hobbits and the men, possibly. But I doubt I would ever feel love for a dwarf.”

Legolas chuckled quietly. “Even Gimli, son of Gloin, has his good points, mellonen. The Lady Galadriel saw that herself when she welcomed him to her wood.  He has become smitten of her, I believe.”

Haldir snorted. “I will take your word for it, pen-velui. Now,” he held out his hand to Legolas with a smile. “If you are satisfied that your friends are well and truly asleep, will you come with me? I desire a bath, some food, and your fine company.”  His smile became a delightful leer. “Not necessarily in that order.”

With a last glance at his sleeping companions, Legolas accepted the hand that Haldir offered and followed the graceful form of the warrior to the stairs of the towering mallorn tree.  Upwards he climbed, following Haldir up the winding steps that curved around the trunk of the enormous tree, the twinkling lights guiding their path.  Haldir led him to the top, where several pathways merged, and, with an insistent tug, pulled Legolas to the right-most path. They climbed several steps more until they reached a modest sized talon that spanned several branches of the tree.  Stepping easily across the small gap between path and floor of the talon, Haldir pulled the Prince across and into his arms.

“Welcome to my home,” Haldir murmured against his throat, licking the light sweat away that had formed there. “I will draw you a bath, if you like.”

Feeling several days’ worth of grime against his skin, as well as the stickiness from the previous night’s exertions, Legolas nodded, looking forward to the idea of being clean once more.

Haldir smiled with delight as Legolas looked around his home with curiosity.  The homes of Mirkwood, he knew, were much different; some of them actually went underground into the deep caves of the forest.  With the exception of the main hall of Caras Galadon where Legolas and his companions had met with the Lord and Lady of the Galadhrim, Legolas had not truly seen how the elves of Lothlórien lived.

“Look around, while I draw your bath,” he said, giving Legolas a quick kiss before moving off to the more private bathing area of his house.  He lit the candles of the room, enjoying the warm glow that they gave off, before filling the large wooden tub with water from a reservoir high above in the trees, its temperature still warm from the heat of yesterday’s sun. After making sure that there were several soaps and sweet smelling shampoos available within easy reach of the tub, he returned to the main living area of his home in search of his guest.

Legolas had found Haldir’s home to be a fascinating glimpse into the marchwarden’s private side.  Books and parchments were neatly stacked alongside a modest reading desk, indicating that while Haldir was a warrior, he was also a scholar.  Several simple, yet talented sketches caught his attention and he wandered over to the desk where they were displayed, noting one in particular that seemed to be a work in progress. It was a drawing of a young elf in his prime of life, head and chin lifted as if looking for adventure, his long braids lifted as if by a breeze and a peaceful yet eager smile on his face. With a start, Legolas realized that the elf in the sketch bore an uncanny resemblance of him, even down to the twin knives sticking up from the back of his quiver of arrows.

“Are you ready for your bath, pen-vuil?” Haldir asked, startling Legolas with his silent approach.

Legolas eyed him, his lips curving slightly in a smile. “Is this supposed to be me?” he asked, pointing to the drawing he had been examining.

Haldir’s cheeks reddened slightly. “Not necessarily, although you make an excellent subject.”

Legolas laughed softly. “There you go again, turning my head with your compliments.”

“Aye,” Haldir agreed, his embarrassment forgotten as he watched Legolas’ face light up with his smile. “It worked, did it not?” he chuckled.

Nodding in agreement, Legolas followed his host to the bathing area and was once again surprised by the beauty and elegance of Haldir’s home.

“Can I assist you?” Haldir asked softly, pulling loose the clasp of Legolas’ cloak and taking it from him.

“If you are willing to share my bath,” Legolas replied, watching the heat in the other elf’s eyes. “It is certainly big enough for the two of us.”

Swiftly Haldir undressed the younger elf and watched him settle into the warm water with a sigh, eliciting a pleased smile from the marchwarden.  His own clothing followed similarly, and he stepped into the tub, easing himself into the warm water.

Legolas was trying to unbraid his hair so that he could wash it, when Haldir stopped his hand. 

“Let me,” he said, motioning for Legolas to turn around so that his back was towards him.  He pulled the lean shoulders back until Legolas was resting against his chest, and went to work on the braids at either side of the Prince’s face.  Once he had them undone, he ran his fingers through the length of Legolas’ blonde hair, luxuriating in the soft texture and weight of it against his hands.  Legolas made to move back to his side of the tub, but the gentle pressure of Haldir’s hands held him where he was.  He filled the small silver pitcher beside the tub with warm water and poured it slowly over Legolas’ head, watching the younger elf close his eyes in pleasure as the water coursed over him.  He repeated the process several times until the young warrior’s hair was completely wet, before he reached for the shampoo.  Pouring a generous dollop of the sweet scented mixture into his palms, he rubbed them together, before applying the resulting foam to the long and silky hair before him.  

Legolas sighed in pleasure as Haldir’s hands massaged his scalp, thoroughly cleansing his hair from all the grime and dirt that had built up over the past several days.  The pressure of his fingers was both comforting and pleasurable, as was the feel of the lean body behind him, and Legolas gave himself over to the touch of the marchwarden’s skillful fingers.

“Close your eyes,” Haldir warned, finished with washing Legolas’ hair. “I am going to rinse you now.”

Obediently, Legolas closed his eyes and felt the water cascade over his skin as Haldir rinsed his hair.  It took several pitchers of water to remove the residue of soap to Haldir’s satisfaction, but when he was done, Legolas’ hair shone like spun gold.

“I will braid it for you when we are finished,” Haldir said huskily, aroused by the sight of Legolas relaxed and pliant form. He placed a quick kiss on the fair skin of the young elf’s shoulder, before reaching for the soap.  Quickly and efficiently he soaped the languid form before him, taking such special care in Legolas’ more sensitive areas that he soon had the Prince gasping with pleasure. Grinning wickedly, he poured water over the soapy skin, rinsing the other elf thoroughly but without any further ministrations to his growing arousal.

Legolas growled when he realized that Haldir was teasing him. “My turn,” he said, turning around so he could face the other elf and kissing him lightly, biting the full lower lip softly.

Haldir smiled when Legolas released him and obligingly turned around, presenting his back to his willing partner.  He felt Legolas’ nimble fingers undo the braids at his temples, sweeping the silver hair back and away from his face.  He repeated Haldir’s earlier actions by dumping pitcher after pitcher of warm water over the other elf’s head, until the Marchwarden’s hair was thoroughly saturated.  It was his turn to groan appreciatively as Legolas began to wash his hair with the shampoo, massaging the scalp slowly, taking great care with the knots and tangles, loosening them until they released and Haldir’s hair lay smooth.  

“Close your eyes, Haldir,” Legolas murmured, giving the marchwarden’s ear a lick before pouring several pitchers worth of water over his head.

Haldir gave into the pleasure of being pampered as the Prince’s fingers worked their magic on his muscles and skin, soaping his body thoroughly. He gasped with pleasure as those talented fingers found his length and stroked it through the water, and he felt himself grow firm under their ministrations. He shuddered when he felt Legolas lick his ear again, and was nearly undone when he felt the pressure of the other elf’s arousal press against his back.

“I think it is time to get out of the water,” Haldir managed, pulling away from Legolas and reaching for the towel.

Legolas chuckled softly and followed suit, feeling a momentary sense of power that he was able to break Haldir’s composure once again.

They dressed quickly, albeit reluctantly, for both felt their need for food and refreshment.  Other needs would have to wait to be attended to, and Haldir wasted little time preparing a simple meal of bread, fruit, and wine.

Haldir watched Legolas eat with a surprising sense of possessiveness. He had only known the elf a short amount of time, and had only made love to him once.  But he realized that even in the brief time he had known him, he cared for Legolas more than he had any elf before. He had certainly experienced his share of physical pleasure with the other Elves of the Galadhrim, especially on cold nights while on border patrol. But there was something about the Prince, however, that touched the marchwarden deeply, and he found himself contemplating Legolas’ impending departure with the others of the Fellowship with regret.  

Catching Haldir’s sudden shift of mood, Legolas placed his wine carefully on the table and regarded the handsome elf across from him. 

“What is troubling you, Haldir?” he asked softly, his eyes keenly studying his companion.

Haldir looked surprised, startled that Legolas had picked up his melancholy thoughts so quickly. 

“Forgive me, ernilen,” he replied quietly, pushing his plate away from him with a small sigh. “I had forgotten until now that you were leaving, and honestly I am saddened by it.”

Legolas nodded, sharing the feeling, although the intensity of it surprised him. “We still have the day together,” he said with a smile.

Haldir’s smile echoed his, though his gray eyes held a look more passionate that belied the simple smile. “Remember what I told you I wanted for our wager? That I wanted you for an entire day, all to myself?” he murmured, holding the other elf with his gaze.

Legolas nodded, feeling his heart beat faster under the intense look that Haldir was giving him.

“I would have you for more than a day, Legolas Thranduilion,” Haldir admitted softly. “If I had a choice, I would have you for as many days as there are stars in the heavens, until I possessed your body and your soul. I would fall in love with you, if I had but the time for it.”

Legolas shivered under the intensity of the gaze and the strength of conviction behind Haldir’s words.  “If we had but the time,” he answered slowly, searching his heart for the right words he wanted to say, “I would give myself to you willingly.  Your strength touches me deeply, Haldir of Lorien, as does your passion. I too would fall in love with you, for I would be incapable of doing anything else.”

Haldir smiled sadly. “Aye, melethron, I would make sure you would never love another.  You would belong to me, and I to you.”  He stood slowly, moving to close the distance between them, bringing Legolas to his feet.

“I do not understand how this has happened between us,” Legolas said shyly, touching Haldir’s face with gentle fingers.

The Marchwarden shook his head and a laugh rumbled deep in his chest. “Nor I, pen-vuil. Nor I.”  He kissed Legolas softly, feeling the heat rise between them once more. He drew back, searching the other elf’s face for any traces of what he was feeling. “I had figured to have nothing more than a simple tumble with you, nothing more than that.” He shook his head, a rueful smile on his face. “I find myself wanting you more after a single night of pleasure with you.”  His fingers traced the edge of Legolas’ jaw. “I cannot seem to keep from touching you.”

Legolas didn’t know what to say, other than he found himself in a similar predicament. 

“We have this day, seron vell,” he repeated softly. “Let us make the most of what we have been given.”

< > < > < >

It was the morning of their departure, and the Lady of the Galadhrim stood before him, smiling warmly.

“My gift for you, Legolas, is the bow of the Galadhrim. Worthy of the skill of our woodland kin,” she said kindly and with a knowing smile, before moving onward to Merry and Pippin.  Without a word he accepted the beautiful bow that Haldir offered him, examining it with curiosity and pride. It was both beautiful, and useful, and he could feel how well balanced it was in his hands, the pull of it as he tested the bowstring experimentally.  He was honored to have been gifted with such a weapon.

“I have a gift for you as well, ernilen,” Haldir said, his voice pitched for Legolas’ ears alone. “I would not have you forget me once you pass the Golden Woods.”

Legolas looked up at the March Warden, smiling sadly. “I would never forget you, Haldir of Lorien. I carry you with me where ever I go.”

Haldir handed him a small leather pouch, placing it gently in Legolas’ hands.

“When the war is over, and the One Ring is destroyed, I would see you again, Legolas Thranduilion,” Haldir said softly, watching as Legolas opened the pouch with his nimble fingers.  He held his breath, watching the other elf’s reaction to his gift, hoping that the other would accept it with all his heart.

A simple ring made of hammered silver, shaped in the pattern of a mallorn leaf lay nestled in the palm of Legolas’ hand. It gleamed in the light of the sun, revealing the scrolling filigree pattern etched carefully in the metal.  As he examined it closer, he noticed that the scrolling strongly resembled the elvish writing of the people of Lórien, and a single word appeared within the elaborate pattern: beloved.

“It was my father’s,” Haldir explained. “He gave it to me before leaving to cross the sea.”

Blinking against tears that threatened to fall from his eyes, Legolas tried to slip the ring on his hand with trembling fingers, and was grateful when Haldir’s hands covered his own, sliding the ring onto his middle finger.  He was deeply touched by Haldir’s gift, and found he wished he had one to give the elf who had so easily captivated him in return.

“Be careful, seron vell,” Haldir whispered as he embraced him. “And return to me when the quest has ended.”

Unable to speak past the lump that had grown in his throat, Legolas simply nodded and stepped back in line with the others, all of whom were regarding the exchange with curiosity.  

With a heavy heart, Legolas helped Gimli into the small boat they would share for the next leg of their journey, trying not to look up and search the crowd of Elves that had gathered for their departure for Haldir’s face.  He settled himself in the boat behind Gimli and reached for the paddle.

Boromir, Merry and Pippin were already moving out, followed closely by Aragorn with Sam and Frodo. With a sigh he felt to his toes, Legolas began to paddle, pushing the boat away from the great tree roots where it had been docked to join the others on the river.  Only then did he dare to glance back at the elves that stood on the banks of the river, searching vainly for the face of the elf that he had lost his heart and soul to.

Haldir saw his look and raised his hand in farewell, feeling as if a part of his soul was being ripped from him as Legolas’ boat drew further and further away.  Finally, unable to bear the sight any longer, Haldir turned away, determined to bury himself in his duties until he saw his beloved’s face once more.

The Lady stood before him, startling him in his tracks. He had not heard her approach.  She regarded him kindly, her empathy apparent in her beautiful blue eyes.

“You will see him again, Haldir. Sooner than you think,” she said quietly for his ears alone. 

Haldir raised his eyebrows in surprise. “You have seen it?” he asked hopefully.

Slowly, she nodded. “A great and terrible danger lies in your path, but if your heart is true, you will be reunited with the one you love.”

His heart was lighter as he watched her and the other elves leave the banks of the river and he stood alone, watching the boats grow smaller and smaller in the distance.  He could still make out the boat that held Legolas and the Dwarf, and he sent a single thought with all his might to the elf that held his heart.

Return to me, seron vell, he thought, return to me when the quest is over.

< > < > < >

Gimli heard the elf sigh behind him and turned to look at him.

“You wish you could stay behind with them,” he said understandingly. In the short time he had been among the beautiful people of the Galadhrim, Gimli’s attitude towards elves had been greatly altered.  He could well understand Legolas’ desire to remain among his own kind, forsaking the terrible and perilous journey that awaited them.

Legolas nodded, a sad smile playing across his fair face. “Aye, I would, but for that I pledged my life to the Ring-bearer.”

“Well,” Gimli said thoughtfully, scratching his beard. “You could always go back and visit when we are through. I am certain you would be welcome among them. You seemed to have made quite an impression, particularly on that insufferably arrogant Marchwarden.”

Legolas looked quickly at Gimli, wondering at how much the Dwarf had guessed at.  But for a change, Gimli’s face revealed nothing of his thoughts. 

“True,” he said finally. “I probably will.”

“Hmmph,” Gimli replied, turning back to face the front of the boat.  He sighed for a moment, watching as the forest began to thin as they edged further away from it.  “I have looked my last upon that which is most fair,” he grumbled, sighing again. “Never again will I call anything fair, unless it be her gift to me.”

“What did she give you?” Legolas asked, honestly curious.

The tips of Gimli’s ears reddened slightly in embarrassment. “I asked her for a single hair off her golden head.”  He sighed wistfully. “She gave me three.”

Legolas smiled, glad that Gimli could not see his fond and indulgent expression, knowing it would embarrass the taciturn Dwarf to no end.   He cast a final longing look at Lothlórien and saw that a single figure remained behind to watch the boats as they journeyed away from the peace of the Golden Woods.  He could not see the other’s face clearly, but in his heart, he knew it was Haldir.

Finis

Elvish Translations:
Sindarin = English
Mellonen = my friend
Melethron = lover (male)
Seron vell = dear lover (beloved)
Pen-vaelui – lustful one
Pen-velui = lovely one
Pen-vuil – dear one
Ernilen = my prince
Maethoren vain = my beautiful warrior
Ernil vain = my fair prince