Summary: Elrond arrives in Lothlórien with an unusual request.

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Author's Note: This may not be exactly what the recipient had in mind, but I hope they like it, nevertheless.

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Haldir waited patiently. Despite the torrential downpour, he had not moved from his place for a good two hours. He was cold, more than wet, and hungry, but it was not food he was hungering for. Soon, he knew, his lover would appear at the edge of the Golden Wood, the lover he had not seen for over five years. This time Elrond would be accompanied by his sons, but Haldir hoped that the twins would be able to find enough things to do, for he planned to keep their father *very* busy for the duration of their stay.

A flicker of movement caught his attention, and he smiled. Elrond was here. It took all the Marchwarden’s willpower to remain where he was, but his eyes were avidly drinking in the sight of his lover. It had definitely been too long.

Then, when he judged the moment to be right, he stepped out, revealing himself to the oncoming party. “Mae govannen, Lord Elrond,” Haldir said, bowing slightly. He watched as the elf-lord dismounted from his horse, his features showing no emotion.

“Mae govannen, Haldir o’Lórien.” Elrond’s voice resonated through the Marchwarden, and Haldir drew a deep breath. Already he could feel the anticipation of meeting up with his lover away from prying eyes flowing through him, but he knew he needed to rein himself in. Not an easy thing to do, considering the sensual promise so evident in Elrond’s eyes.

Time stood still as the two elves drank in their fill of each other. They were oblivious to Elrond’s sons who were sitting on their horses, not bothering to hide the smirks on their faces. The Geledhil under Haldir’s command remained in the background, their faces impassive, yet each knew what it meant for Haldir to see his lover once more.

Haldir was the first to break the silence. “Allow me to escort you to Caras Galadhon,” he said smoothly.

Elrond’s lips twitched. “Hannon le,” he said, inclining his head slightly. Turning to his sons, he found they had already dismounted and were waiting patiently beside their horses. The elf-lord turned back to the Marchwarden. “If you would lead the way,” Elrond said.

“Of course, híren.” Haldir motioned to his second-in-command, Orophin. “Stay here and guard the border; your relief will arrive by nightfall.”

Orophin winked and leaned closer to his older brother. “Rúmil and I will refrain from disturbing you when we return,” he said quietly.

Haldir glared at him. “The only way I can ensure no interruptions from my brothers is by having them on continuous patrol for the next two weeks.”

Orophin grinned, unrepetent. “You would not do that,” he said with assurance, secure in his knowledge of what his brother really was like.

Haldir’s lips thinned, made to say something more, and then huffed. He turned once more to Elrond, who was more than just a little amused by the exchange between the two brothers. The Marchwarden drew himself to his full height. “If you are ready, híren?” he asked formally.

Once more Elrond inclined his head, and then turned to give a warning glance at his sons as they both tried to stifle their snickers.

“Sorry, Adar,” they chorused, though neither appeared sorry in the least. Elrond shook his head.

Haldir, meanwhile, was already facing in the direction of Caras Galadhon, and turned his head only slightly when Elrond reached his side. The elf-lord gave the Marchwarden a rueful look. Both elves knew why the twins were so amused: the desire between Elrond and Haldir to be alone together was palpable. Even some of the Geledhil were sporting grins. With a rueful smile of his own, Haldir led the small party from Imladris deeper into Lothlórien.

************************

“I have missed you.” Haldir had made short work of removing his clothing, and stood naked in the middle of the room, his erection jutting proudly. “I want to take you, now.”

Elrond, still in the process of undressing, stopped to look at his lover. He walked to where Haldir stood, his grey eyes not hiding his desire, but there was steel in his gaze. The elf-lord wrapped his hand in Haldir’s hair, bringing the elf closer to him. “You are over-confident, *Marchwarden*, he growled, jerking Haldir closer still. His lips hovering over the those of the Galadhel, he continued in a whisper, “What makes you think you will take me?”

The sensuality in Elrond’s voice made Haldir shiver slightly, but he held his ground, his gaze unwavering as he stared into Elrond’s eyes, so close to his. “Because you want me to,” the Galadhel said.

Elrond’s lips curved into a smile. “Indeed,” was all he said, but he did not release his hold on Haldir, instead using his other hand to gently trail his fingers down the Marchwarden’s chest, feeling the muscles contracting at his feather-light touch. Elrond’s hand trailed further to Haldir’s erection, his thumb flicking over the crown, smiling as Haldir gasped. Closing the small gap between them, Elrond kissed his lover, a kiss that was fuelled by pent-up desire and passion. It was almost as if Elrond wanted to brand the Galadhel. Haldir wrapped his arms around the elf-lord’s waist, bringing him closer still, revelling in the onslaught. The elf-lord broke the kiss, and noted with some amusement the look of confidence on Haldir’s face. “You still think you will take me,” Elrond murmured.

Haldir smiled. “I am more than confident I will,” he said, pressing himself closer to Elrond. “I know *exactly* what you need, híren,” he whispered in Elrond’s ear. “You know this to be true.”

Elrond released his grasp from Haldir’s hair and stepped away. “Then undress me, melethron, and show me.” His voice was a sensual caress, his eyes full of promise of things to come, and Haldir’s smile widened, knowing there would be very little rest for either of them this coming night.

************************

“What is it?” Celeborn came up behind Galadriel and slid his arms around her. “You are pensive,” he continued, nuzzling her neck.

Galadriel smiled briefly. “I am concerned over what Elrond will ask of Haldir,” she admitted.

Celeborn stopped what he was doing. “What Elrond will ask of Haldir?” he echoed.

Galadriel turned in Celeborn’s arms so that she was facing her husband. “Our grandsons reach their majority soon. I know that Elrond has already asked Glorfindel to initiate Elrohir in the ways of lovemaking, which only leaves Elladan.”

“Surely Elrond does not plan to ask Haldir to initiate Elladan?!” Celeborn asked, stunned.

“I am afraid he does,” Galadriel confirmed.

“Is Elrond aware that you know?”

Galadriel shook her head. “Though he will not be surprised that I do. Nevertheless, what Elrond will ask of Haldir will test their relationship.” She laid her head on Celeborn’s shoulder. “It will not be an easy time for any of them,” she said softly.

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The next morning saw Elrond and Haldir entwined in each other’s arms, having languidly made love once more. The Galadhel absent-mindedly fingered the red mark on his neck, smiling contentedly. Elrond had been more than passionate and, rather than being overwhelmed, Haldir had matched him, giving no quarter. He turned his head to find Elrond watching him, a slightly strange look on his face. “What is it, melethron?” he asked, a little perplexed.

Elrond took a deep breath. “I have a favour to ask of you,” he said gravely. There was something in the elf-lord’s voice that sent a trickle of apprehension down Haldir’s spine.

“What?” the Galadhel asked.

“As you may know,” Elrond began, “my sons soon reach their majority. You are aware, of course, of what that means.”

“Aye.” Haldir’s eyes narrowed slightly, unsure of where this was leading.

“Glorfindel is to initiate Elrohir.”

“A good choice,” Haldir responded. “And who have you chosen for Elladan?”

Elrond paused for a moment before replying. “You.”

Haldir felt a heavy weight settle on his chest as the word reverberated in his head. He stared at Elrond, the disbelief so obviously etched on his face that the elf-lord could not help but recoil slightly. “Have you gone mad?” Haldir’s voice was cold.

“This will not affect our relationship, melethron,” Elrond said confidently. “I have thought long and hard about this, and believe me when I say that I did not make this decision lightly. But I truly believe you are the best choice.” The elf-lord reached out to caress Haldir’s cheek, but the Galadhel merely stared at Elrond, who continued in his efforts to try and explain his decision to the Marchwarden. “You are a consummate, powerful lover, Haldir. I know this all too well, which is why I think you would be perfect to teach Elladan.”

Haldir did not respond immediately. Instead, he rose up from the bed and began gathering his clothing. They were still damp, but he did not care. All he wanted was to get dressed and leave.

Elrond watched him, feeling the anger and disbelief rolling off his lover. “I know this is sudden – not to mention a little unusual – but please, Haldir, at least think about it.”

“There is nothing to think about.” Haldir’s voice was flat, uncompromising. “I will not do this. How *dare* you ask this of me? I am *your* lover, Elrond, not your son’s, even if it may be for one night!”

“I dare to ask,” Elrond said, eyes flashing with anger of his own, “because Elladan needs someone who is strong…”

“There are a number of elves that would fit that category!” Haldir spat. “Your advisor, Erestor, would be one. Or what of Gildor Inglorion? Not to mention Thranduil. Better still, why do you not ask Glorfindel to initiate Elladan as well?”

“You are being unreasonable.”

Haldir roughly pulled on his leggings. “Unreasonable?” he hissed. “You are asking me to sleep with your son!”

“Yes, I am asking you to sleep with him, but just for the one night.” Elrond’s voice was measured, controlled. He suspected this would be the reaction he would receive from the Marchwarden. “You are the perfect choice, Haldir. More importantly, I trust you. I reiterate again: I do not ask this lightly.”

“You should not have asked at all,” Haldir said, his voice now dangerously quiet, and Elrond knew he needed to tread carefully. “Care to tell me *why* you deem me to be the perfect choice?”

“Because of my two sons, Elladan is the one who is most like me.”

“Is that supposed to reassure me?” Haldir asked as he pulled on his tunic, not bothering to do up the fastenings. “Am I supposed to pretend that Elladan is you, is that what you are suggesting?” Haldir stared at Elrond, his gaze cold. “Forgive me, *híren*, if I do not follow your reasoning. I think I would know the difference between a sexually experienced elf and one who is not. I repeat: I am not doing this.”

“Haldir…”

“No. If you wish to find me, *híren*, I will be at the borders for the remainder of your stay.”

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Later in the morning Elrond found himself summoned by Galadriel. “You ask much of your lover, Elrond,” the Lady said without preamble when Elrond arrived at her talan.

“Perhaps,” Elrond conceded. The elf-lord did not bother to ask how Galadriel knew; Galadriel’s insight had always been greater than his. “He is stubborn and proud; I knew it would not be an easy thing to convince him to do this.”

“You accuse him of stubbornness and pride, Elrond?” Galadriel asked mildly. “It seems to me that, if anything, he feels insulted that you have asked him.”

“Insulted?” Elrond appeared stunned by the accusation. “I did not ask him for the purpose of insulting him.”

“You are questioning his trust and loyalty, Elrond.” Galadriel’s voice was still mild, but Elrond could sense she was not pleased. “He loves you, Elrond. For the time that you are apart, he does not even look at another elf, even though there are those who try and capture his attention. Haldir wants no other but you. He will not even think about initiating Elladan, for he has no desire to do so. You are the only elf who has laid claim to him, and he is hurt that you would even consider suggesting he sleep with another, even if it is your son and purely for the purpose of initiation.”

“I told him that I trusted him, Galadriel, and that our relationship would not suffer,” Elrond said determinedly.

“But that is not what Haldir believes, Elrond,” Galadriel responded. “He believes that you are growing tired of him, and that you wish to end things.”

“No! Nothing could be further from the truth!” Elrond exclaimed.

“Then seek another to initiate Elladan. Personally, I believe Thranduil would be an excellent choice. I think he would more than enjoy it.” Galadriel’s lips twitched.

“I am sure he would,” Elrond replied a little sourly. “Why do you think I decided upon Haldir?”

“The rumours you have heard about the king are purely that, rumours. You surprise me, Elrond, in that you choose to believe them rather than believing what you know to be the truth.”

“I know the truth, Galadriel. I give no more credence to the rumours than you do, but I fear that Elladan makes his choice *because* of them.”

“I think you can trust your son’s judgement, Elrond. And, if the looks I saw Elladan give Thranduil when we were all at Imladris five years ago were any indication, your son will not be swayed. And Thranduil definitely was not unaware of them.”

“Yet it seems *I* was.”

“You were otherwise…occupied,” Galadriel said, laughter shimmering in her gaze.

Elrond was silent as he mulled over what Galadriel had said. Admittedly, Thranduil was just as good a choice, but his worry that the rumours surrounding the king’s sexual proclivity and Elladan’s possible influence by them had made Elrond reach the decision that he did. However, going by what Galadriel had told him, there was virtually no chance that Haldir would do it, and Elrond found himself capitulating. “You are right, Galadriel. I was foolish in asking Haldir. I will consider Thranduil.”

“You should at least give Elladan the courtesy of telling you. It is *his* choice, Elrond. Elrohir told you of his choice and you did not deny him; why are you treating your eldest son differently?”

Elrond found himself flushing slightly under Galadriel’s gaze. “I felt that Haldir was the better choice,” he muttered.

“That does not mean that your choice is the right one,” Galadriel said gently.

Elrond took a deep breath. “No, it does not,” he agreed. He paused for a moment, and then asked, “How long ago did Haldir leave for the borders?”

“He has not left, Elrond. Celeborn and I managed to convince him that he should remain in Caras Galadhon. I believe you will find him at the training field with your sons.”

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Haldir remained at the edge of the training field, watching the twins as they practiced their archery. Both seemed oblivious to his scrutiny, each of them hitting their targets with ease. The Marchwarden’s gaze settled upon Elladan, his gaze thoughtful. The more he observed the elder twin, the more he could see much of Elrond in him. But that did not make Haldir want to take Elladan to his bed – far from it.

The Galadhel sighed. The heavy weight that had settled upon him earlier had, if anything, become heavier. He no longer knew where he stood with Elrond. Was the elf-lord trying to end their relationship? If he were, then Haldir would rather he be told face to face, and not in this round-about way with Elrond suggesting the Marchwarden initiate his eldest son in the pleasures of love. Not to mention wanting to know the reason *why*. Yes, Elrond had said that Elladan was much like him, but Haldir felt there was more. And how would Elladan feel having his father’s cast-off lover? Haldir did not even want to think about that.

Elladan suddenly turned, as if he had become aware of the Marchwarden’s scrutiny. With a smile, the elder Peredhel twin made his way to where Haldir was standing. “You surprise me,” he said.

Haldir raised an eyebrow. “Surprise you?” the Galadhel echoed. “In what way?”

Elladan looked briefly to his twin before returning his attention back to the Marchwarden. “I thought you would still be with our father.”

“Well, as you can see, I am not,” Haldir stated flatly.

Elladan frowned slightly at the tone in Haldir’s voice. “Has something happened between you and Adar?” he asked cautiously.

Smiling a little grimly, Haldir shook his head. “Nothing that concerns you, pen-neth,” he replied. “Your father and I had…a difference in opinion; that is all.”

“Do you wish to speak about it?” Elladan asked. “Mayhap we can help.”

“Who do you wish to initiate you when you reach your majority?” Haldir asked abruptly.

Elladan was puzzled by the Galadhel’s sudden question. “Why do you ask?” His eyes narrowed slightly. “What concern is it of yours? Surely you are not offering…” he began, only to see Haldir’s eyes darken, and Elladan took a step back. “With all due respect, Haldir, you are not the one I want.” The eldest twin gazed steadily at Haldir. “I do not understand why you are bringing this up. It is *my* choice, after all.”

“What happens if your father has made your choice for you?”

Elladan’s eyes widened. “Are you saying that Adar asked you?” The eldest twin was incredulous. “And has he decided for Elrohir, as well?”

“Who has decided what for me?” Elrohir had approached the other two elves and looked at each of them a little bemusedly. “Elladan?”

“It seems, tôren, that Adar has decided on our behalf who should initiate us in the pleasures of love at our majority.”

“No, he has not, at least not for me,” Elrohir said quietly. “I told him of my choice some months ago. Firstly, to make sure he was happy with whom I chose and, secondly, so he could ask on my behalf.”

Elladan looked at his brother, having a good idea as to who it may be. “Glorfindel,” Elladan said. “I am not surprised. Do you know if he has agreed?”

Elrohir smiled. “Yes, he has,” he said softly.

“Then I am glad,” Elladan said. “At least one of us will have our choice,” he muttered under his breath, but it was not so quiet that it could not be picked up by the other two.

“I do not understand.” Elrohir’s puzzled gaze turned to Haldir, and then back to his older brother. “Have you not spoken to Adar yet of yours?” he asked.

Elladan shook his head. “No. And it seems that my choice has been taken away from me, has it not?” The question was directed at Haldir, who shifted uncomfortably under Elladan’s scrutiny.

“Your father has mentioned to me that your majority approaches soon,” Haldir hedged, not wanting to confirm Elladan’s suspicion.

“But…?” Elladan asked mildly, but Haldir could see in the eldest twin’s eyes the anger simmering beneath the surface.

“There is no ‘but’.” The three elves turned to see Elrond approaching them. Elrond’s face was stern. “There is no ‘but’,” he reiterated, giving Haldir a quick, warning glance. “I am, however, still waiting for you to tell me your choice, Elladan.”

“So you can deny me and foist your choice upon me instead?” Elladan retorted.

“No.” Elrond shook his head. “The choice is yours and yours alone. I shall not dissuade you. I only ask that you tell me so that I can make the…necessary arrangements.”

“So you have no objections that I choose Thranduil?” Elladan asked, almost belligerently.

Under the surprised gazes of Elrohir and Haldir, Elrond smiled. “No. If Thranduil is your choice, then I will send word to Mirkwood and ask him formally on your behalf,” he said in response to Elladan’s question.

“Thank you, Adar,” Elladan said, a little surprised by his father’s seemingly easy acquiescence. However, neither he nor Elrohir missed the look that Haldir was directing at Elrond.

“Good.” Elrond’s voice was brisk. “Haldir, may I speak with you – in private?”

“Aye, we most definitely will speak, *híren*, Haldir ground out before stalking off the training ground.

Elrond gave a small, apologetic smile at his sons before he followed in the Marchwarden’s wake.

“What was *that* all about?” Elrohir wondered aloud.

“I have my suspicions, tôren,” Elladan said grimly. “If it is what I think it is, Adar will have his work cut out to earn Haldir’s forgiveness.”

“Forgiveness? What do you mean?”

“Methinks Adar had asked Haldir to initiate me,” Elladan said, his gaze still upon the retreating figures of his father and the Galadhel.

Elrohir followed his brother’s gaze. “If that is true, then it looks as if Adar has had a change of heart. But I can not understand why he would do such a thing.” Elrohir shook his head, puzzled, and then turned his gaze back to his brother. “Do you think he grows tired of Haldir?” he asked, almost in disbelief.

“If he does, then he is a fool,” Elladan said.

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“How much further do you seek to humiliate me?!” Haldir all but shouted as soon as they reached the privacy of Elrond’s talan.

“It was never my intention to humiliate *or* insult you, melethron,” Elrond said.

“Do *not* call me that,” Haldir spat. “Can you not have the decency to tell me face to face that you wish to end our relationship? Why must you use your sons’ majority as an excuse? And to first ask me to initiate Elladan, only to find out now that you will accept his choice…words are beyond me, Elrond.” Haldir was shaking with anger. He walked agitatedly across the floor before stopping and looking once more at the elf-lord. “Is everything we have shared now worth naught to you?” he whispered, suddenly feeling limp and spent.

Elrond shook his head. “No, Haldir. Every moment that we have spent together succours me till our next meeting.”

“Yet you wish to end it.”

“No! I wish to end nothing.” Elrond made to draw Haldir towards him, but the Galadhel moved away, distrust on his face. The elf-lord winced, knowing he was the cause of it. “I made a grave error in judgement, and I ask for your forgiveness,” Elrond said quietly.

“Forgiveness.” Haldir turned away and strode to the door. “Forgiveness,” he repeated, shaking his head. “I am not sure where I stand with you anymore, Elrond. You say you do not wish to end things, yet your asking me to sleep with your son tells me otherwise. And now you tell me that you have made a grave error in judgement. If you had any respect for me, any love for me, you would have never even considered asking me to do such a thing.” Haldir took a deep breath and looked at Elrond, his gaze sorrowful, yet determined. “I trust you understand that I need to return to my duties. I wish you and your sons a safe journey home, híren,” the Marchwarden said formally.

“Haldir, wait!”

“Navaer, híren.”

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“Do you think this wise, Haldir?”

Haldir paused momentarily to look at Celeborn.

“I feel I have no choice,” the Marchwarden said quietly. “I can no longer remain in Caras Galadhon, not while Elrond is still here.”

“Stay, Haldir. You can not leave matters unresolved between the two of you.”

“Is that an order, híren? Haldir asked.

Celeborn looked aside for a moment before returning his gaze to the Marchwarden before him. “Despite what you think, Elrond loves you. It is only the concern for his son that made him ask what he did. Rarely has Elrond shown such a lack in judgement, but he has seen his error and wishes to make amends. Give him that chance, Haldir. Do not allow *your* pride to get in the way.”

“I do not know if…” Haldir began.

Celeborn raised his hand. “Please, Haldir. Remain and work this out with Elrond. If you do not, it will affect you both, more than you realise.”

************************

“Did you mean what you said, that you will write to Thranduil?” Elladan’s voice brought Elrond back to awareness and, with a sigh, the elf-lord turned to face his eldest son.

“Yes,” Elrond said heavily. “I will write to him.”

“You asked Haldir, did you not?”

“Aye. And I was a fool to do so. You are entitled to your choice as much as Elrohir, and I ask for your forgiveness in trying to take that choice away from you.”

“I do not think it is so much me you have to ask forgiveness of,” Elladan said.

Elrond shook his head. “No, it is not. I have already tried to speak to Haldir, but…”

“I can not say I blame him, Adar,” Elladan sat down in the chair opposite his father. “What in all of Middle-earth possessed you to even ask him?”

“Would you believe because I thought he might be flattered by the idea?”

Elladan’s gaze widened in disbelief. “Flattered? A find that a very strange concept, Adar.”

“I know I was when Gil-galad asked me to initiate Erestor at his majority.”

“What?!” Elladan stared at Elrond. “I knew that you and Gil-galad were lovers, but I never knew…”

“Because I did not tell you. I saw no need to,” Elrond said simply.

“Did it affect your relationship with Gil-galad?” Elladan wanted to know.

“No. As I said, I was flattered that Gil-galad thought me worthy enough.”

“But Haldir is not you, Adar.”

“No. The fact that I knew I would have difficulties persuading him in agreeing to what I asked should have been indication enough. Yet I chose to ignore that, persuading myself that he would consider it an honour as much as I had when asked by Gil-galad.” Elrond gave a half-smile. “As you have just found out, Elladan, your father can sometimes still be a fool.”

Elladan leaned forward slightly and laid a hand on his father’s arm. “No, Adar, not a fool. Only a fool would not have realised he had make a mistake and tried to rectify it.”

“You are being very understanding,” Elrond said quietly.

Elladan shrugged. “We both know that I would have good reason not to be, but I think I know why you chose to do what you did. I have heard the rumours about Thranduil, but I also know there is no truth to them. But it does not change the fact that I desire him as much as Elrohir desires Glorfindel.” Elladan took his father’s hand in his own. “If it is any consolation, Adar, you have my forgiveness.”

“Hannon le, Elladan.”

“Now,” Elladan said briskly, “go and find Haldir and tell him what you told me.”

“He will have already left for the borders,” Elrond replied.

“Not according to Grandfather,” Elladan said, eyes twinkling. “Apparently Haldir can be found in his talan.”

Elrond rose from his chair. “I shall take your advice, Elladan. Perhaps he will then understand once I have explained everything.”

Elladan laughed suddenly, and Elrond looked at his son. “Why do you laugh?” the elf-lord asked bemusedly.

“Who would have thought that the father would be taking advice from the son?” Elladan chortled.

Elrond chuckled. “Who, indeed.” The smile soon changed to a look of determination. “Now, time to convince a certain Marchwarden that I have no intentions of letting him go.”

************************

Haldir sat at the table, head in his hands. Despite his better judgement, he was still here in Caras Galadhon, and he knew it was a matter of time before Elrond sought him out. His emotions felt battered and bruised, his heart cracked to the point of shattering into small pieces. The idea of no longer seeing Elrond, of being his friend, his lover, his confidant, made Haldir feel more desolate that he thought possible. Yet he was not sure he could forgive Elrond for what he saw as a betrayal of their relationship, a betrayal of Haldir’s feelings. So when the Galadhel sensed that someone had entered his talan, he raised his head, knowing full well who it would be.

“Haldir?” The voice was soft, gentle, almost pleading, but the Marchwarden stifled the urge to turn around, instead remaining where he was, staring resolutely at the wall in front him. The rustle of clothing indicated that the other elf was moving closer, until Elrond moved past him and pulled out the chair on the other side of the table and sat down. Haldir dropped his gaze to his hands, not wanting to look at Elrond, almost afraid of what he might see.

“Look at me.” It was more of a command than a request, and Haldir found himself automatically responding to it. He took a deep breath and found himself staring into determined grey eyes.

“Will you listen to what I have to say?” Elrond asked.

“Had I not been listening before?” Haldir countered.

“Aye, but then you have walked away. No more, Haldir. How can I regain your trust if you do not know the full story?”

“It seems I do not have a choice,” Haldir muttered.

“We all have choices, Haldir,” Elrond said mildly. “However, there are times when the choices we make are not the right ones.”

“Are you referring to your ‘grave error in judgement’?” the Marchwarden asked, a little sarcastically.

“Yes.” Elrond appeared to be unperturbed, but he somehow knew this was his last chance of convincing Haldir that they still belonged together. “I love you, Haldir.”

“You have a strange way of showing it.”

Elrond remained silent for a moment. “For a long time after Celebrían had sailed I felt as if I had been cast adrift, floating aimlessly in one direction or another on a sea that I did not recognise. And then, suddenly, an elf came into my life. True, I had known this elf for a very long time, but this elf, somehow, managed to steer me onto a course that led me back to land. I grew to love this elf for his strength, for his honour, for his determination, for his stubbornness, for his confidence and self-belief. An elf who gave as good as he got, who was not afraid to say what was on his mind, and who was not afraid to challenge me. And in a moment of foolishness, because I thought he would be flattered by my proposal, I nearly destroyed what we had. I say ‘nearly’, because I do not believe that it is destroyed utterly. I do not believe that it is broken beyond repair.” Here Elrond stopped.

“What made you think I would be flattered by your asking me to bed your son?” Haldir wanted to know.

So Elrond told him the story he had begun telling Elladan, except leaving out no details. Haldir listened, at first stunned, but then later with some sort of understanding of why Elrond thought the way he had.

“The mistake I made,” Elrond said at the end, “was that I foolishly thought that you would react the same way as I had when Gil-galad asked me to initiate Erestor. You are not me, Haldir – far from it.”

“No, I am not,” Haldir agreed calmly. “And what of Elladan? Will you truly allow him to have his choice?”

Elrond smiled briefly. “I will. My son has been generous in his forgiveness of me in trying to choose for him, especially as I have allowed Elrohir his.” There was resolution on Elrond’s face. “Will you forgive me, Haldir? Will you learn to trust me again?”

Haldir gazed at Elrond. “The fact the Elladan was willing to forgive you says much,” he said finally. “I do not wish to lose what we have, Elrond,” the Galadhel continued softly. “My heart already tells me this much.”

“Then let this make what we have stronger, Haldir, and you have my promise that I will not ask such a thing of you again.”

“I should think not, considering you have no more sons,” Haldir responded a little dryly.

“As yet I do not,” Elrond replied enigmatically. “Not yet.”

Haldir raised an eyebrow. “Meaning?” he asked.

“It is still far ahead in the future, Haldir,” Elrond replied. “For now, I am more concerned with the present.” The elf-lord rose from behind the table, followed by Haldir. “I will leave you for now, melethen,” Elrond said softly. “Will you join me for dinner tonight?”

“Aye, I will.”

************************

For the next week Haldir and Elrond spent much of the day together, finishing with dinner before each retired to their telain. It was Elrond’s suggestion that they do this, but by now Haldir was more than a little…frustrated. So when the elf-lord once more made to leave the glade where they had held their evening repast, Haldir laid a restraining hand on Elrond’s arm. “Return with me to my talan,” he said simply.

Elrond gazed steadily at Haldir. “Are you sure?” he finally asked.

“I need you, Elrond. Let us…strengthen things between us still. I know for a certainty you love me; your actions and your words during the past week are more than enough proof.”

“It was not just my proving my love for you,” Elrond said quietly. “It was to regain your trust.”

Haldir was silent for a moment. “I am not sure,” he began slowly, “if I had completely lost my trust in you. I should have; there was that sense of betrayal. But I think a part of me was merely waiting to hear your reason why and, because of that, mayhap some trust remained.”

Elrond raised his hand to cup Haldir’s cheek. “You have given me more than I hoped for, melethron,” he said. “I will stay with you; do with me as you please.”

Haldir quirked an eyebrow. “Do you trust yourself in my hands?” he asked, eyes gleaming.

Elrond’s normally grey eyes darkened to slate. “Always,” he purred.

The Galadhel moved away and grasped Elrond’s hand, smiling. “Then let us waste no more time with talk.”

************************

Elrond awoke the next morning, slightly disorientated, before realising he was in Haldir’s bed. He moved, wincing slightly. Haldir had taken him at his word and proceeded to do *exactly* what he pleased, leaving the elf-lord with one or two aches in places he had not quite anticipated. Moving the sheet, Elrond looked down at the red bite marks on his naked body. The Marchwarden had been determined to mark the elf-lord before taking great delight in bringing Elrond to the edge time and time again, only to leave him begging for more. In the end, though, Haldir gave in to the pleading and proceeded to take both elves spiralling to heights they had not reached before, surprising them both with the intensity and leaving them gasping for breath.

At that moment, Haldir came into the room, a small pot in his hand. “Admiring my handiwork, are we?” he asked, not bothering to hide his smile.

“If that is salve you are holding in your hand, then I suggest you put it good use and apply it to your ‘handiwork’,” Elrond said, though there was no sting to his words.

“Salve?” Haldir queried.

Elrond’s eyes narrowed slightly, not fooled by the seemingly innocent expression on his lover’s face. “If it is not salve, then what is it, exactly?”

Haldir gave a smile that one could deem as feral. “I think you have a very good idea, melethron. I am not finished with you, and do not plan to be finished for some time yet.”

Elrond glanced down at his member, now fully erect once more, and returned Haldir’s smile. “I am glad to hear that.”

************************

Elvish translations:
Adar – father
Galadhel – tree elf
Geledhil – tree elves
hannon le – thank you
híren – my lord
Mae govannen – Well met
melethen – my love
melethron – male lover
navaer – farewell
pen-neth – young one
talan – wooden platform
telain – wooden platforms (Plural of talan)
tôren – my brother

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