A Saving Shadow

Summary: none given

Author's Notes: I have a feeling this was not quite what you wanted, dear requester, but I hope it will please nonetheless.

~~~

�How fares he?��

Glorfindel sighed heavily. �Much the same as when we first arrived.� �

Erestor shook his head. �I do not know if coming here was wise.��

�At least he has not gotten worse.��

�I would rather that he got better.��

�The Lady said to give him time.� Glorfindel briefly patted Erestor�s shoulder, causing the dark-haired counselor to scowl at him. �We have only been here for a few days.��

�Alas, that is all I can spare.� This time it was Erestor who sighed. �I must return to Rivendell. The twins will be champing at the restraints of responsibility ere long.��

Glorfindel nodded. �Remember, do not let them hoist the burden of government onto you. The longer they can be kept from pursuing their thirst for orc-blood, the better.��

�It must be sated eventually, Glorfindel.��

�Aye, but time will temper the rage, clear their minds. I do not think Elrond can survive losing his sons as well.��

�If it can be said that he has survived losing his wife.��

The two Elves continued to watch the figure wandering listlessly over the small clearing. Any who saw them would mark only a pair of Elves standing not quite at rest beneath a tree; any of their familiars from Rivendell would have also noted the distinct lack of their usual contentious banter. But neither cared much for the inquisitive eyes of the passers-by, and most if not all of Lorien knew about the tragedy that had befallen the Lord of Imladris and his family, so any area they chose to occupy tended to be utterly devoid of Elves for the rest of the day. �

Seemingly unaware of the bright day or the relentless, worried vigilance of his two closest friends, Elrond strode aimlessly over the grass, wearing vaguely circular path around the clearing, his eyes passive and expressionless as if he was not there but wandering an unknown land far away.�

~*~�

Much as daylight never fully penetrates the forest heart of Lorien, but rather is gently filtered by the thick, fulsome layers of mellyrn boughs, neither does night fully descend beneath the boughs of the Golden Wood. Lanterns and small fires from a thousand telain glittered like small stars from the leafy heights. Elrond remembered being mesmerized by the beauty of such a sight, but that night he was only grateful for the light that enabled him to climb down from his talan without alerting his guards. �

He may no longer be a sprightly child clambering over Cirdan�s virgin ships anymore, but his limbs still retained their dexterity and strength, and thus he traversed from branch to branch, occasionally making use of a convenient hithlain rope-ladder or support cord, until he was able to make a final stealthy drop to moss-covered ground. �

Elrond was aware that he was� not well. When the plan was first conceived that he should accompany Arwen back to Lorien and abide there himself for a time, he had truly wondered if his friends were planning to finish off the tattered remains of his mind. �

But it had proven far less painful an experience than he had expected it to. There was an exceedingly restful quality about the air of Lorien, evoking the Vala of the same name. He was staying at a guest talan instead of the quarters in the dwelling of Celeborn and Galadriel that he had often shared with his wife on their visits here. Furthermore his visits to the wood with her had been few and far between, so he was not troubled with too many memories around as he strolled around Caras Galadhon. It was remarkably easy to simply rest, letting his body, mind and spirit simply float in the timeless golden ether.�

He was not sure of his direction or destination, but night after night he has felt compelled to walk through the dark woods. He could not sleep, in any case, and always he has returned before dawn. Thus far he has avoided encountering other Elves, though of late he would occasionally sense a fleeting presence at the edge of his perception. But as this Elf seemed to mean him no harm and did not restrict his movements, Elrond largely ignored him.�

After a while- it was hard to judge time without being able to see the sky- a group of flickering lights came into view in the distance, indicating that he was approaching a collection of dwellings. He changed his course slightly, making sure to remain beyond the circle of illumination cast by the lights onto the ground. But as he drifted back towards the darker wood, something prompted him to direct his gaze upwards.�

Half-Elven sight was inferior to true Elven sight, but Elrond was still able to make out, inside the shadow beneath a sheltering branch, a deeper shade. The shade shifted position, and suddenly Elrond could see a pair of eyes aimed down at him, pale and piercing. �

�What is your business in the ancient wood of the Galadhrim?��

Elrond started at the unexpected question. Smooth and certain, the voice of steel, powerful enough to be heard over the din of a battlefield. A warrior, then, and with a lilt that was common among Silvan who originated further west of Cerin Amroth. �My wife has left Middle-earth for the Western shores,� the answer slipped out between his lips.�

The shade�s shoulders shrugged, the casual offhandedness of the gesture sending a prick of annoyance through Elrond. �That does not answer the question.��

Elrond scowled, tried to peer deeper into the gloom underneath the trees as if trying to see the Elf. �I was brought here, by friends and family.��

�For what purpose?��

�It was her childhood home. Perhaps they thought that being here would heal my loss.��

�And has it?��

Not sure why he continued to answer the rather impudent questions of this mysterious Elf, Elrond replied, �The grief is not so black. But whether or not I am healing, I cannot judge.� �

The hidden Elf seemed to consider this. �Then you are wise.��

�Some have called me thus,� Elrond chuckled bitterly. �But I have never felt it. To prove so, I have just confessed what I have told no other to a person I cannot even see.��

�When you have not spoken a word since entering this wood,� the Elf remarked. Elrond�s eyebrows arched in surprise. �But perhaps you simply needed to speak to a shadow first before you return to the light.��

�And does this shadow have a name?� Elrond asked, hearing a faint rustling of leaves.�

But the air above the branch was already empty.�

~*~�

�You are leaving us, counselor?��

Erestor�s head snapped up. Lady Galadriel was standing at the entrance to his guest house, pale and ethereal, her garments less intricate and ornate than the ones he�s always seen her in. An informal meeting, then.�

�Aye, my Lady,� he rose and bowed. �I must return to Rivendell.��

�Please convey my greetings to Elladan and Elrohir. I understand that they are raring to stamp out every orc and goblin living in the White Mountains. I concur with Glorindel�s counsel in this, that they should be restrained for as long as possible.��

�I will do my best, my Lady.� Erestor made a wry, mirthless smile. �With luck, they have some fear left in them of their old childhood tutor.��

Galadriel chuckled at that, a surprisingly light sound that reminded Erestor strongly of Celebrian. �Add courting the displeasure of their grandparents, and perhaps we have bought a year of time.��

Erestor hesitated. �Forgive me, my Lady, but I fear I have doubts as to whether being here is truly helping him.��

Galadriel looked thoughtful. �May I enter further, dear Erestor?��

�Of course, my Lady.� He pulled one of the two chairs in the small space closer to her. �Please, sit.��

Once Erestor himself was seated in the other chair, Galadriel continued, �You were with Elrond to the end of the Last Alliance, were you not?��

�Aye, my Lady.� Erestor looked puzzled. �We grieved together at the loss of Gil-Galad and Elendil.��

�As I remember, Gil-Galad was a mentor to Elrond.��

�He was. The grief took a long time to abate, and Elrond was one of the hardest hit.� Erestor frowned. �Yet he never descended the state he is in now. Perhaps he was not himself for a day or two, but that was all. But it has been half a year since Celebrian sailed, and he has not left this stupor since he watched the ship disappear over the horizon.��

�And I will explain why.� Galadriel pressed her lips together. �Elros.��

�His brother?� Erestor exclaimed, now thoroughly confused.�

�His twin.� Galadriel emphasized the word with a raised finger. �Too often, it is easy to forget that Elrond is a twin. It matters not that his brother has long passed, Elrond is still a twin. He came into life with another, and that is all his faer knows. Thus he has always needed another to balance him, to counter him.��

Understanding, Erestor nodded. �But why does he not respond to Glorfindel or myself? We love him as family.��

�Aye, and perhaps either of you would have been ideal, if you were not already embroiled with one another.��

A blush bloomed over Erestor�s face. �Then can he not anchor himself in his children?��

�He needs an equal, Erestor, and to his children he will always be a father.��

Sensing something from the look on Galadriel�s face, Erestor ventured to ask, �Is it your plan, then, my Lady, to introduce him to one who might fulfill such a role and thus restore the balance sought by Elrond�s faer?��

�My plan?� Galadriel smiled and shook her head. �Nay, not even I could plan for this.� She looked out into the darkened forest. �However, if it will set your mind at ease for the journey home� they have already met.��

~*~�

To Glorfindel�s startled but pleased surprise, Elrond�s expression the next morn was not the slack, passive blankness of the last half-year, but rather a thoughtful, even puzzled mien that resembled closely the Elrond that the Elf had known of old. Erestor, joining them at the foot of the tree that bore the guest telain, also looked surprised for a number of seconds, though seemed considerably less ruffled than Glorfindel. As if he had not been doubting this entire venture all along!�

It was soon clear, however, that Elrond had not fully returned to them yet, as he did not respond to any of the careful questions posed to him by Gorfindel and Erestor, instead spending the day mulling over whatever secret concern was weighing his mind. But he did clasp Erestor�s hand in farewell before the Elf left for Imladris, so Glorfindel was content to watch and wait for a while longer. That was part of the reason they had decided that he would be the one to remain with Elrond, while Erestor headed home.�

In most things, Erestor was the one the greater patience, owing to his vocation as a scholar and scribe. But it was one thing to be patient with unruly students, or the difficult translation of an ancient tome; seeing a close friend in misery and being unable to help, was quite another. On the other hand, Gorfindel understood better than most how healing took its own time, especially if the injury was in the mind and the spirit, rather than the body, and he had a greater stomach for the darkness and depression sometimes required for a complete and proper healing.�

Throughout the day, practically invisible as they trailed after the party from Rivendell, one of the ever-present, ever-silent guards would glance briefly at his dark-haired charge, the corner of his lips twitching restlessly as if he were fighting a smile.�

~*~�

�A marchwarden reduced to guard duty?� Orophin asked incredulously. �How can you stand it, brother?��

Haldir frowned at him. �I usually begin by reminding myself that the order came from the Lady herself.��

Orophin threw the damp wash-cloth he had been wiping his hands with at his brother. �Even so, you must have done something to warrant such a punishment.��

�It is not a punishment, muindor.��

�What he means is that he asked for the assignment,� Rumil quipped, arriving at the sturdy talan upon which rested the small home the three brothers shared. �I am quite friendly with one of the Lady�s handmaidens, who claimed to have overheard your conversation with the Lady.��

�Is that true?� Orophin guffawed at the confirming scowl Haldir directed at Rumil. �But why, Haldir? Do you no longer enjoy our company? You need not lie to us, if that is so. Or have the northern borders become too troublesome for you?��

�It was not a lie,� Haldir said through gritted teeth, his irritation clearly only amusing his brothers even more. �The Lady approached me and informed me that Lord Elrond and Lady Arwen were coming to Lorien. Of course, by then most of us had already heard the news. I had also heard that the Lord and Lady wished to station honorary guards around Lord Elrond�s person, in light of his grief-stricken state and the growing presence of yrch in the lands outside. I told our Lady that I knew of this, and volunteered to be one.��

�Very noble of you, muindor,� Orophin said with a sardonic smile, moving towards the small kitchen to prepare their dinner. �But that does not explain why you, Haldir of the north-guard who can shoot an arrow up an orc�s nose from a tree in the dark, would take such a tiresome and somewhat useless charge.��

Haldir didn�t answer, and from the darkening of his expression the brothers wondered if they had hit a hitherto unknown nerve in the normally stoic marchwarden. After dinner, when Haldir silently slipped out without his bow or arrows, Orophin settled next to the fire, his expression growing thoughtful as his hands skillfully restrung his bow.�

~*~�

By nightfall, Elrond had decided against returning to the place where he�d encountered the Elf the previous night. Mostly because he was not sure of where it was, exactly, to begin with, and did not relish the thought of blundering through an unfamiliar forest like a fool. He was also reasonably sure that the Elf he had spoken to had been the same fleeting presence he�s sensed numerous times before, at different locations, which meant that it wouldn�t matter where he went, the Elf would still find him and approach him if he desired to do so again.�

He began his nightly walk as always, with neither purpose nor thought of where he was heading. Sure enough, after some time he picked up on a presence somewhere in the branches above. He slowed his walk and sat down on a moss-cushioned rock. He sensed the shadowy intruder approaching him warily, and when he looked up those pale eyes were regarding him intently from atop a heavily shadowed branch. �

�What do you seek here?� the Elf asked after a long moment of silence. �

Again, Elrond found himself answering without hesitation. �Peace. Healing. Answers.��

�And what will you give in return?��

�What?� Elrond exclaimed in surprise.�

�What will you give in return for those things which you seek?� The Elf repeated. The eyes lowered slightly, as if the Elf was crouching. �To what purpose should you be granted peace and healing?��

The Half-Elf considered the question for a long while. �So that I may return to the fullness of health. So that I may govern my people well, and be a good father to my children.��

He felt rather than saw the mysterious Elf�s nod. �Then believe in the answers you already know. Peace and healing will come to you, but you must want them.��

�Are you accusing me of not wanting to heal?� Elrond asked, outraged.�

�It is tempting, at times, to prefer the safe numbness of grief, especially if one has had to live through much sorrow in the past.��

�Who are you to judge me so?� The Half-Elf rose to his feet. �I daresay your arrogance is founded in your obscurity, else you would have entered the light so I may know the visage of the one who presumes to question me in my grief.��

The Elf only chuckled. �Do you not see? Neither of us are truly here, for you do not yet speak in the light of day and are surely too wise to be wandering the dark forest at night. And I, as I said afore, am only a shadow. We are not dead, but neither are we alive. So let us speak of things that we would never speak of, in a manner we would never speak in. For we are not here.��

~*~�

And so the meetings in the dark continued. Elrond found himself looking forward to them during the day, receiving odd and uncertain looks from Glorfindel when he would smile at times for no apparent reason.� He was fairly certain that his morchant, his shadow- as he had mentally begun referring to him- had known perfectly well who Elrond was, and judging from how much he knew of Elrond�s daily activity he was likely somebody residing in Caras Galadhon, with a position in Celeborn and Galadriel�s retinue. But not once did he use Elrond�s name or refer to his position, in fact ignoring most rules of etiquette altogether.�

�Tell me, what skill are you best known for?��

This being one of the easiest questions he has had to answer, Elrond promptly replied, �Healing.��

�Have you healed another since your wife sailed?��

He wanted to say that he had assessed the injuries of a number of his warriors, and diagnosed the maladies of a handful of human children sent to Rivendell from a neighbouring mannish settlement. But he knew what the Elf meant. �Nay, not myself.��

�Loss makes you lose a part of yourself.� Forestalling Elrond�s protest, he quickly asked, �You told me that you were once herald to Gil-Galad, whom you held as dear as brother.��

�Aye.��

�Have you ever taken pride and joy in wielding a weapon since his fall?��

The answer utterly surprised Elrond, and subdued him. �Not as before. Though I did teach my sons a share of their skills.��

�But which is closer to your heart, the healer or the warrior?��

�The healer, always.��

�Then that is another reason why you are so affected. Laying down the warrior�s sword after a great war is a natural choice, especially when it is not your main vocation. But a healer is part of who you are, and so the doubt that infected you when you could not heal your wife reached into your very core.��

Elrond said nothing for many long moments. �How do you know so much?��

�I am shadow,� said the Elf, and nothing more.�

~*~�

�He healed you.��

Haldir did not stop sharpening his knife, nor turned around to look at his brother. �Who do you speak of?��

Orophin ignored him, and seated himself next to Haldir. �Before you were made marchwarden, you served as a guard. I do not know if Rumil remembers, but I was already training then. You were part of an escort accompanying the young gwan�n back to Imladris. I recall you saying that you were hurt, waylaid by yrch over the Misty Mountains.��

�Some of our party were injured, aye,� Haldir reluctantly answered when Orophin clearly refused to leave without further enlightenment. �But we delivered our charges with nary a scratch on them, though they were raring to run after the yrch that managed to escape, and Lord Elrond kindly saw to our wounds. We were fit to depart within a few days.� As an afterthought, he added, �I was young, and doubtless to his eyes all Galadhrim look the same. He would not remember me.��

Orophin nodded, and lapsed into a thoughtful silence. Before long, Haldir felt overly discomfited by the considerable gaze his brother kept directing at him, and left, feeling Orophin�s eyes trained on his retreating back.�

~*~�

As time passed, Elrond�s encounters with his midnight companion took on a special, sacred feel. The Elf continually challenged him, not out of mischief or even disagreement, but in the form of playful debate. The Half-Elf discerned that the blunt questions were only asked in order to rouse Elrond into discussion, and if Elrond were forthcoming and initiated the talks himself, the Elf would adopt a more companionable manner.�

�My brother was always the statelier of the two of us,� Elrond said one night, resting against a warm tree trunk. �Cirdan always said that Elros could wear fishermen�s clothes and still appear a king. I was a clumsy youth, more interested in lore and learning than my outward appearance. Unfortunately Peredhil are not quite as immune to dirt and general disarray as Edhil.��

A chuckle came from above. �What happened to the clumsy youth?��

�He lost his brother, when the time came.� Strange, how a loss that had felt so raw and untreatable had faded over time. �And perhaps it is as you say, that I lose a part of myself with each loss I suffer. Gone was the clumsy, carefree young scholar always buried in his books. Gil-Galad never asked, but I knew he must have wondered if my brother and I had somehow traded places. It was not far off the mark; perhaps, in my attempt to keep Elros alive, I fashioned myself closer to his image.��

On another night, Elrond asked the Elf if he had any family. �

For a moment he wondered if the Elf would leave; there was no set time for their meetings, the Elf just came and went as he pleased. But finally he answered, �Two younger brothers. We lost our parents to an orc-raid when my youngest brother was still a babe.��

This unprecedented revelation of the Elf�s life left Elrond stunned for a few heartbeats. �I am sorry. It must have been difficult, taking care of young siblings.��

A slight change in shape of those brilliant eyes told Elrond that his mysterious companion was smiling. �It was. But we both know that, no matter the difficulty, one must always take care of family.��

~*~�

Such insights into the Elf�s life were rare, but each one aided in turning the shadowy persona into a living, breathing Elf. For a time, Elrond had been content with having a faceless, nameless �shadow� with whom he could converse and thereby work himself out of his grief-induced stupor. But gradually he became ever more curious about the Elf who was patiently, and quite thanklessly, drawing him back into life. Yet the Elf was clearly Elrond�s match for stubbornness, refusing to share any detail that might reveal his identity.�

Nevertheless, so comfortable had he gotten with the Elf that he was cheerfully recounting a successful hunting session with his sons when his companion suddenly said, �Halt.��

Elrond glanced up, face questioning.�

�Repeat that last sentence.��

The Half-Elf blinked and tried to recall what he had been saying. ��We had a hard time dragging the bounty back to the House, but of course Celebrian was delighted at the amount, she has always loved venison-��

�There, did you not hear it?��

Elrond frowned. �Venison?��

�Nay.� The Elf sighed in exasperation. �You said your wife�s name. For the first time since arriving here, you have uttered her name.�

~*~�

The very next day, Elrond was at his writing-desk when Glorfindel arrived to break fast with him. He signed and sealed his letter, then looked up and smiled at his friend and seneschal. �Good morn to you, Glorfindel,� he greeted him, and received such a stupefied expression that he began to laugh, full and heartily.�

~*~�

�She revoked our marriage, near the end,� Elrond whispered, wiping the moisture from his face with the back of his hand. �In her dark fits she would accuse me of lying with others, of siring other children behind her back.��

�She was not herself.� How strange, that a voice that could both rouse and comfort, depending on the tone. �One day you will sail over the Sea, and she will be waiting for you on the distant shore, whole and herself once more.��

Elrond expelled a long breath, nodding. �Perhaps.� He reached into his pocket and drew out a simple gold ring. �Yet even words said in illness have power. I cannot feel her as I have before. I do not know if this means we are truly no longer wed, for the oaths we made were to Iluvatar and thus unbreakable unless by death and the doom of Seriwinde. But the bonds that bind us are no longer in place.��

~*~�

The Half-Elf debated revealing to Glorfindel the nightly conversations that had been the unlooked-for catalyst of his recovery. In the end he chose not to, fearing that Glorfindel would attempt to follow him one night in order to have a look at this most insightful shadow. His presence would almost certainly keep the morchant away, and Elrond may even lose the Elf�s trust. So he contented himself with speaking of insights he�d gleaned from the night before. �

�For a long time, I wondered why being in Lothlorien does not pain me as being in the vale does,� he began as he and Glorfindel seated themselves near the training area for the Galadhrim warriors. The sound of practice blades clashing and arrows piercing their wooden targets filled the air. �But I have realized that here, a great deal of my memories involving Celebrian were from before we were wed��

��this was her childhood home,� soft words floated down from the Elf�s perch on the same tree Elrond was resting against. Steely voice tempered by reverence and affection into more velveteen sound. �The woods here remember her as a laughing, light-spirited elleth, born and raised on these very grounds, whilst to the valleys of your home she will always be your wife first. There is also the fact that your land felt her pain at the end, and shared in your grief for her loss. Here the memories of her are untainted; let the wood and the land keep her.��

�Are you at peace with her departure now, meldir?� asked Glorfindel, snapping Elrond out of his remembrance.�

�Not yet.� He smiled ruefully. �But I will be.��

~*~�

A few days later, he expressed to Glorfindel his desire to have a look at the guard outposts around the border, citing a need for exercise as his main reason. He knew that Glorfindel often resented the period of convalescence after grievous injury, for the reborn Elf seemed always to be bursting with energy and too easily grey restless and surly if he was not able to spend that energy. Glorfindel eyed him suspiciously, but after exacting an oath that Elrond would pull back at any sign of danger, went and inquired about outpost locations while Elrond asked permission of Celeborn and Galadriel.�

He had spoken to them soon after uttering those first words to Glorfindel, asking for their forgiveness in failing to heal their daughter. Celeborn had shushed him, assuring him that they never held him in blame, were in fact grateful that he managed to keep her on Middle-earth for the little while longer. Galadriel had agreed, but mostly just gazed at Elrond thoughtfully, in that piercing manner of hers that seemed as if she were trying to read one�s mind.�

Now, after Celeborn puzzledly assented to Elrond�s proposed short tour, balking a little at Elrond�s further request that their honorary guards not go with them, Galadriel had a handmaiden bring forward a map of Lothlorien. She pointed at the borders to the north. �I suggest you and Glorfindel begin here. They are the closest. But be wary, for the yrch have been more restless than usual these past few years.��

They set out the next morning, opting for a relatively hard pace as both found themselves tireless and full of energy. Elrond had informed his morchant of the excursion, predicting that they would return within a week. The Elf had agreed that it would be beneficial to Elrond, but warned him to be careful.�

The border guards received them gladly, for they had volunteered to carry updated orders and personal messages, which they immediately handed over. They were warned that a band of orcs had been brought down by a border patrol only a few days before, and while the Elves were usually vigilant and very thorough in their business there may still be a few who managed to escape. Glorfindel thanked them for the warning, and they set out for the next outpost after a night of rest.�

It was halfway through the brief tour, when they were en route between the third and fourth outpost, that Glorfindel suddenly stopped. Elrond, sensing danger also, remembered his oath, but as he could not determine from which direction danger was coming from, he remained close to his golden friend. The forest seemed to grow silent for a second.�

Then a burly, bleeding orc launched out from where it had been hiding behind a thick cluster of trees. Glorfindel immediately swung around to face it, sword already in hand, pushing Elrond back. Elrond also drew his sword, in case the orc should slip past his seneschal, but was stayed by his oath. �

It was well that he had armed himself, for without warning a second, slightly smaller orc appeared out of the surrounding foliage with a shrill cry. Elrond instinctively brought his sword up to block the swung axe. He turned the movement into a parry, and attempted a diagonal cut at the orc�s exposed side. He had aimed for a gap in the heavy layers of armor, but it had been a long time since he�d wielded a sword, and there was a lingering sluggishness in his limbs, so the blade scored merely leather.�

The orc came at him again, and he dimly heard Glorfindel calling his name in alarm. Elrond easily evaded the orc�s next thrust, and the creature�s lack of agility gave him time to aim his thrust at the gap between the breastplate and the headgear. The orc made a wet sound as Elrond drove his sword through its neck. As the Half-Elf braced to pull his sword out of the limp body, pain blossomed on one side of his body.�

He shook his head and found himself half-kneeling, reeling from a blow he had not even seen coming. It seemed that three new orcs had joined the fray; he could see two bodies at Glorfindel�s feet, and his seneschal was occupied by yet another. The new orc that had hit Elrond crowed gleefully at the prospect of a kill, raised his enormous club and-�

-fell backwards with an arrow vibrating out of its left eye. Elrond whipped around to look behind him, and glimpsed a hooded, grey-cloaked figure carrying the tall bow of the Galadhrim before it disappeared into the forest once again.�

�Elrond!� Glorfindel grabbed him. �Are you injured?��

�Just glancing blow to the side.� His side protested that it was no such thing, but Elrond ignored the pain. �An Elf shot that one.� He pointed to the one pierced by the arrow. �But he disappeared before I could thank him.��

�Likely Celeborn sent our honorary guards to follow us, but remain out of sigh,� Glorfindel said with a rueful sigh. �Clearly a wise precaution. We should reach the outpost in an hour, and we must alert the guards to the presence of these Orcs. Then we return to Caras Galadhon.��

Elrond did not argue, mostly because he was kept busy reviewing the few seconds he had seen of the Elf. While he had to admit that it was far more likely to be one of their honorary guard, he could not help but wonder if perhaps it was his nameless, faceless shadow.�

~*~�

Naturally, afterwards Elrond�s curiousity about the identity of his burned anew. Especially when Celeborn and Galadriel had confirmed that they had not sent the honorary guard after Glorfindel and Elrond. He took to examining the eyes of passing Elves, and listening intently to the voices conversing all around him. But it seemed as if all Galadhrim had pale eyes, and in the dark, looking up from the ground, it was nigh impossible to judge height with any kind of accuracy. The Elf�s arrogant, headstrong personality suggested a warrior, however, or one used to command.�

Glorfindel was one who always respected others� need to keep their business their own, but even he began asking Elrond what was occupying so much of his thought. Elrond pleaded that he felt obligated to thank the one who had saved his life, and he was attempting to find him, which was actually the truth. �

Of course, Elrond had to wonder what he would do once he had found his nightly companion. Thank him, certainly. But it became clear, as Elrond pondered the matter further, that he was more than just grateful for the mysterious Elf and his provoking discussions. He enjoyed the Elf�s company, distant and lofty as it may be, and while he may not know much superficial detail about the Elf, he felt that he had a good sense of how the Elf thought, and he appreciated the shadowy character�s frankness and innate nobility. �

Plus, Elrond tended to respect those who were willing to argue with him.�

Then the missive came from Rivendell, written in Erestor�s hand. Elrond surmised that Glorfindel must have been keeping the counselor abreast of Elrond�s developments. �

It was time to return home. �

~*~�

It was not something that he planned, though if he were honest with himself, perhaps the initial idea had been lying in wait in his mind since the day his mysterious companion confessed that he had three brothers, henceforth evolving, in Elrond�s mind, from a nameless entitiy to a living Elf. �

Elrond walked, as usual, until he felt the Elf�s presence in the tree next to him. He looked up at those eyes, thought about living with no more knowledge about the one who had pulled him from the brink than a pair of pale eyes in the distance.�

�I return to my home on the morrow,� he began, shivering a little in the light breeze. �Back to the land of the living.��

�I know.� The sadness and regret were clear in both gaze and voice, which gave Elrond the strength of nerve he needed.�

��Ere I go, I have a question for you.��

The Elf seemed to hesitate. �Ask it.��

�Do you desire me?� Elrond tugged at the seemingly intricate lacings on his robe, and with a soft rustle the cleverly wrought garment fell to the forest floor. The Half-Elf wore nothing underneath, standing as bare as the day he was born as he looked expectantly up at the darkness. He saw the Elf�s eyes traveling down his body, suppressed a shiver at the answer he found in that gaze. �

�What are you doing?� The Elf demanded, though a thickness in his voice robbed the query of its edge of outrage. �

�I demand that you complete the remainder of my healing,� Elrond stated, demonstrating that he, too, could harden his voice into steel. �Tend to my body, morchant nin, with the same care and skill you have tended my spirit and mind, and we both shall know rapture enough to reach the stars this night! Will you come down?��

~*~�

Haldir could only stand, speechless, unable to tear his eyes away from the breath-stealing vision of beauty below. �

It was true, he had oft thought of this, dreamed of seeing the Peredhel thus. But never had he expected his scarlet fantasies to be within his reach, offered to him full willing by the one who had been the subject of his imaginings since that fateful first meeting centuries ago. A meeting that the tall Lord standing proud and regal in naught but his skin would not even remember.�

It was the greatest temptation, and by the Valar, he prayed he will never have to face another like it again. �Nay, this is not right. I have not helped you heal only to bed you at the end of it. Return to your rest, Elrond Half-Elven.��

Elrond cocked his head, and approached the tree Haldir was perched on. �That is the first time you have called me by name.��

�I thought it unfair to use your name when you did not know mine.��

A smile graced Elrond�s features. �Then tell me it! Or better yet, scream my name into the night as you discover the full graces of a Peredhel.��

Haldir could feel the heat blossoming over his face in the dark, and similarly heated stirrings from much lower regions. �Leave me be, Peredhel!��

�Nay, my good Elf.� Elrond�s tone was irritatingly jovial, clearly enjoying the torment he was inflicting upon Haldir. �I will not leave until you give me what I ask for.��

�A year ago, you were struggling to heal your wife!� Haldir protested, desperate in the face of his weakening resolve. �

Elrond�s face darkened. �Aye, and though she was not herself, I know that it was not entirely the pain speaking when she denounced me.� He looked away. �The Peredhel are not as Elves, morchant nin; we feel desires as fiercely as Men do. And while our Elven natures may give us a measure of control, we cannot extinguish the fire entirely.� When he met Haldir�s gaze again, there was a vulnerability in his expression that send a lance of pain through Haldir�s chest. �I wish to know bodily pleasure with you, my nameless, faceless Elf, because if I were to return to the land of the living without tending to the needs of my body, I will always be haunted by her words, perhaps never able to take comfort in another. Only you, in our place here between the living and dead, do I trust with ridding me of this last vestige of grief.��

Even before Elrond finished speaking, Haldir was already unwinding the strip of fabric he always wore around his wrist, to strengthen the joint and serve as an impromptu bandage in an emergency. He threw the cloth down, watched it flutter gently into Elrond�s waiting hand. �

�Bind your eyes,� he said gruffly, trying to think past the sudden pounding of his heart in his ears. �And you must give me your oath that you will not try to see.��

�I do.��

Haldir waited until Elrond had finished tying and adjusting the cloth around his eyes, before jumping to another tree and descending. He approached Elrond from behind, the moss underfoot making it easy to move without a sound. �

Elrond gasped when Haldir brushed his lips over the back of his neck. In no hurry, Haldir gave himself time to drink in the sight of that beautifully muscled back, the hard buttocks, the fascinating sprinkle of dark hair over Elrond�s arms and legs. He trailed fingers down the Half-Elf�s spine, eliciting a shudder. Circling around, he stood face-to-face with Elrond, for they were of equal height. Elrond seemed to sense the approach of his mouth, and parted his lips invitingly.�

Feeling as if he were drowning in the strong, earthy musk of the Half-Elf, Haldir released the last of his control and closed the distance between their mouths. Lips crushed lips, and then Haldir was pushing his tongue into Elrond�s mouth, and Elrond was drinking him in, the both of them moaning loudly. His hands roamed all over the Peredhel�s body, while Elrond began to blindly remove Haldir�s clothing, slowing to map his arms and chest as if trying to envision them in his mind. Haldir gasped when clever healer�s hands somehow managed to undo the laces of his breeches while Elrond�s teeth lightly bit on Haldir�s lower lip. His fully erect shaft came free of the cloth, and Haldir pulled Elrond closer to him, grinding their groins together.�

�So beautiful,� he groaned out. �Never doubt that you are desirable, Elrond.��

Pushing Elrond against a moss-covered tree trunk, Haldir began licking and nipping his way down the Peredhel�s body. He paused at the light coverage of hair over Elrond�s pectorals, experimentally using his teeth to tug on the wiry strands and grinning at the gasps of pleasure this drew out of the panting Half-Elf. The pert nipples received a more thorough treatment, each one sucked and bitten until Elrond was nigh begging for some attention on lower areas. The Elf generously complied, following a trail of dark hair with his tongue down the centre of Elrond�s torso, below his navel, to the ample nest around the base of his dark engorgement. �

When he closed his lips around the spongy head of that considerable shaft, Elrond bit on his own fist in order to muffle the sounds emitting from his mouth. He instinctively thrust into Haldir�s mouth, and Haldir encouraged it, focusing on relaxing his throat as he took more of the hard, heated flesh into his mouth. He gave Elrond control of the movement, only loosely holding onto the Half-Elf�s hips, swallowing and using his tongue to stroke the turgid flesh as it slid in and out between his lips.�

After the first burst of pre-come, Haldir stopped Elrond by firmly gripping his hips, and withdrew, much to the growling protest of the Half-Elf. Locating his discarded cloak, Haldir folded it a few times and sat upon it. He pulled Elrond to him. �

�Straddle me,� he commanded in a rough, heated whisper that was answered by a moan from Elrond. �I would have you ride me, Peredhel.��

Elrond quickly lowered himself, learning by feel how Haldir was positioned, and sat on Haldir�s lap. He began to stroke the Elf�s hardness, spreading the slick pre-come all over the shaft. Haldir groaned loudly at the erotic sight, and had to cover his mouth when Elrond bent forward and began licking his throbbing length, adding saliva to lubricating moisture. Haldir slicked his own fingers with his pre-come, and reached forward around Elrond. Understanding his purpose, Elrond lifted himself up. Haldir carefully pushed one finger into him, making sure to wet the tight passage, adding a second when the muscles felt relaxed enough. Elrond gasped, seeming almost to bounce on Haldir�s lap as he tried to push the fingers deeper inside himself.�

Finally, Haldir withdrew his fingers and aided Elrond in positioning himself over the hard, unyielding muscle rising from Haldir�s groin. �

Haldir prompted him to pause with a squeeze on his hand. �Elrond, are you sure of this?��

For an answer, Elrond smiled and promptly impaled himself. The sensation of suddenly being sheathed in incredibly tight, silken heat left Haldir groaning expletives into Elrond�s skin. Elrond gasped something unintelligible into Haldir�s hair, then began rocking, raising and lowering himself, riding Haldir more harder than any of the Elf�s few past lovers. Perhaps it was the mannish blood in him, but the stately, regal Half-Elf appeared almost primal as he repeatedly sheathed Haldir�s meaty lance.�

The cries of their joined climaxes resonated through the wood.�

~*~�

Haldir climbed noiselessly up the hithlain rope-ladder, throat humming out a cheerful tune. He inwardly debated having a wash so that his brothers don�t catch the unfamiliar scent on him, when he opened the door��

�and stared at the waiting figure of Orophin, seated where he faced the entrance.�

~*~�

�How long have you been meeting him in the woods, muindor?� �

Haldir sighed heavily. �Months.��

Orophin got to his feet. �And does he know it is you? That he has been seduced by one of his honorary guards?��

�Nay.� Haldir�s lips were pressed into a thin line, as he met his brother�s gaze without flinching. �And he will never know. He departs on the morrow for Imladris, never knowing this shadow-Elf, and in time he will forget.��

Perhaps it was something in his face, his eyes, or the sharp bitterness in his voice, but Orophin gasped and stumbled backwards. �Sweet Valar,� he whispered. �You love him!��

Haldir did not answer, instead dropping down into a seat close to the fire. �Do not be ridiculous.��

�I have marked no change in you these past months, aside from your nightly strolls,� Orophin said quietly, mostly to himself. �That is why Rumil does not even suspect anything is amiss.��

Aware that letting his brother draw the truth out of him would likely lead to every Elf within shooting distance hearing his escalating voice, Haldir wrung his hands and covered his face with them. �Since Imladris.��

�What did you say?� Orophin crouched down on the floor beside his chair. �

�When we escorted the gwan�n to Imladris, I took a cut from a tainted blade. The wound became infected. It was cold, the world was dark, and I felt as if my entire body was on fire. It was my first serious injury, and I could not even sense the calming presence of the mellyrn.� He rubbed his face, one hand absently rubbing over his left shoulder. He could still feel the blade breaking his skin, the burning that followed. �I fell into a dark sleep. When I awoke, I was warm, and the fire was gone. I opened my eyes.� His face softened. �I remember looking up to the kindest eyes I�d ever seen.��

This seemed to leave Orophin speechless. �Since then?��

Haldir nodded. �Since then.��

The End

Glossary

talan, pl. telain � platforms built on trees, common in Caras Galadhon
faer � spirit
yrch � orcs
muindor - brother
gwan�n - twins