"They're frightened. You can see it in their eyes. And they should be. Three hundred against ten thousand. They can not win this battle. They will all die!"

Why had he said it? How had this despair crept into his heart? This despair that was so different from dread or misgiving, for it carried with it the weight of hopelessness. And it was this element of hopelessness that most disturbed Legolas, for it was altogether new to him, and its acquaintance was unwelcome. How was he to fight when victory seemed impossible? Would he then only be fighting for valor or to take as many of the fiend with him as possible before meeting his own end?

Then I shall die as one of them!

Or was he, like Aragorn, fighting because there was no other choice? Making a good death for himself?

Legolas paced the length of the Deeping wall, vaguely trying to formulate some kind of plan as to how Rohan's limited manpower was to defend the expanse. Yet, his mind could not be fully diverted from the distressing thoughts that had followed him from the moment he had left the armory.

No other choice. A good death. Valor. To put up a good fight.

These were the reasons for fighting that he had conjured; yet, they all rang hollow. None of them were the true reason. But under the gathering darkness, truth was not so easily discerned, not even for an elf as keen as the Prince of Mirkwood-especially now, with his mind so clouded by grief and loss.

Gandalf. Boromir. The breaking of the fellowship. The way the journey seemed to be no more than a progression from one confrontation to the next. Still, there was an even greater loss, if indeed it be a loss-one which he would not permit himself to dwell upon. There was no sense in courting possible miseries when there were enough actual ones facing him directly.

Legolas stopped his pacing and looked out over the plain in the fading light. The scene was one of serenity; and yet, in a matter of hours, all of that would change. The fighting would begin, and all indications were that the battle would be short-lived.

Victory was not even conceivable.

So, why was he fighting?

Loyalty was the only thing left. His oath to the fellowship had not ended. It could not end. He would not let it end.

Legolas straightened up, his eyes reflecting his resolve. He had come this far. He would not abandon his friends in the face of defeat.

---

He found Aragorn inside the now empty armory. The ranger was girding himself for war. Legolas entered unnoticed, picked up the ranger's sword, and handed it to him.

"We have trusted you this far and you have not led us astray. Forgive me. I was wrong to despair," he apologized.

Aragorn placed his hand on Legolas's shoulder. "There's nothing to forgive, Legolas."

Legolas clasped Aragorn's shoulder in return, marveling once again at the depth of the friendships he had so recently come into.

Gimli entered at that moment, grousing about the chain mail and bringing a smile to Legolas's face.

All that remained now was to await the arrival of the enemy.

A horn sounded.

Legolas' s heart leapt within his chest. "That's no orc horn." He took the steps two at a time, Aragorn and Gimli hard on his heels. Aragorn overtook him as they followed the outer passageway round. They came to the top of the steps overlooking the main gate.

And here Legolas stopped abruptly. Below him, a grand regiment of elves was entering the keep, marching in perfect unison, their blue-gray cloaks rolling like waves as they passed. But more glorious than these, more demanding of Legolas's attention was the leader of the regiment - an elf of exceptional beauty and composure who even now was addressing King Theoden. Clad in red and gold, he looked like a great prince of the heavenly armies.

" . . . we fought and died together," he was saying, his voice fluid and elegant. It was a voice that Legolas loved.

At the arrival of the three companions, the leader of the elves turned his gaze towards the top of the stairs. A proud, noble expression radiated from his face, like light from a lantern. A brilliance surrounded him. It had always surrounded him, but never had it shined so brightly as it did now in Legolas's eyes.

"We come to honor that allegiance," the elf continued.

Aragorn came to the bottom of the steps. "Mae govannen, Haldir," he said with a broad grin. He put his hand to his heart in the usual elven greeting, then opted for a more human welcome, drawing Haldir into a warm embrace.

Haldir was caught off-guard, but recovered quickly, returning the embrace and smiling at the feeling.

Aragorn drew back. "You are most welcome."

When Aragorn stepped aside, Legolas eagerly came forward. He reached out and clasped Haldir's shoulder.

For one brief, intense moment, they greeted each other without words; then Haldir turned to face Theoden once more, as Legolas looked on, unbridled thrill and pride beaming from his face.

"We are proud to fight alongside men once more," Haldir proclaimed boldly.

Theoden was temporarily at a loss for words. This was a moment he had never imagined in his wildest dreams. Suddenly, a glimmer of light was showing on a hopeless situation.

"You have brought us a chance for victory," he said at last. "And for that, the kingdom of Rohan will be ever grateful."

Haldir made a graceful move of acknowledgment. "We are at your command."

Theoden looked to Aragorn, who stepped forward.

"I will leave you to Aragorn," Theoden said to Haldir. "And when this battle is over, if we are victorious and peace is restored, I will go in person to thank those who sent you."

"That may yet be possible," Haldir replied, bowing low. When he rose, it was to address another elf at the head of the column. "Ardamil, take over for me. I will not be long."

"Yes, Nikerym," Ardamil replied with a nod. Before turning, his eye caught that of Legolas. "It is good to see you again, Legolas."

"It is good, indeed, Ardamil," Legolas replied, forcefully overcoming the desire to physically greet this elf individually. He looked at the first several rows of elves and was stunned to find that he recognized many of the faces. It looked as if Haldir had brought his entire patrol.

Haldir had caught sight of Gimli and bowed once again. "Master Dwarf."

"Never was I so glad to see fair elven faces as I am now," Gimli enthused. "The Golden Lady has not forgotten us in this dark hour."

Haldir smiled. "Nor has Lord Elrond."

Aragorn was already moving, drawing Haldir down the passageway toward the keep's juncture with the Deeping wall. Legolas and Gimli followed. Once they were out of earshot, Aragorn stopped and took firm hold of Haldir's arms, staring at him as if performing an examination.

"You are well," he said with intensity, joy radiating from his eyes.

Haldir gave a single nod and a pleased smile. "As you see."

"When we last parted, you were in a very bad way. We weren't even sure Elvish medicine could help you." This was also from Aragorn.

"It was not Elvish medicine," Haldir replied. "It was Gandalf the White."

Aragorn nodded. "Yes, he told us. We met him in Fangorn Forest. He told us he had healed you, but that you were still recovering at the time he left Lorien."

"That is true."

"He was very grave about it," Gimli put in, sounding irritated at the memory. "He would give us no assurances."

"He had none to give," Haldir said. "He had done his part. The rest was mine. He could not know how it would turn out."

"It turned out well," Aragorn grinned.

"It did," Haldir agreed.

"How did you come to lead this expedition?" Gimli asked.

"I volunteered. The decision to stand by men was made above my head," Haldir stated. "But once it was made and they needed a captain, I did not have to think about whether or not I wanted to be a part of it."

Aragorn could not hide his admiration. "I am glad of it. Theoden spoke truly. You have brought hope." He paused then got down to business. "There isn't much time. The greatest weakness is the Deeping wall. Rohan does not have enough warriors to defend it. If we put all of Rohan's soldiers on the keep, your regiment can defend the wall."

Haldir kept abreast with Aragorn through the passageway until they came out at the juncture of the wall and the keep. Legolas and Gimli followed and listened as the other two discussed tactics.

The better part of a half hour passed in this manner.

Legolas watched the interaction between Haldir and Aragorn with excitement. Haldir's strategic mind had amazed Legolas in the past, and it continued to do so now. He felt a minor tinge of envy at Haldir's cool, collected manner, especially when he recalled his own bout with despair, only so recently overcome.

And yet, Legolas's patience was remarkably thin. He was aching to have a moment alone with Haldir. He forced his concentration on the discussion at hand; and for this he was deeply grateful when Haldir turned to him unexpectedly and said, "Legolas, friend, would you go back and bring the regiment here? I still have things to discuss with Aragorn."

Legolas nodded and was off like a hare. He found the regiment filling the inner court, drawing water and eating lembas. It only now occurred to Legolas what kind of forced march these elves must have been subjected to.

Almost immediately, he saw Ardamil approaching him. There were three other elves with him. Two he recognized as Haldir's brothers, Rumil and Orophin. The other was another guardian in Haldir's patrol by the name of Mythis.

It was a warm greeting, much more so than Legolas's greeting with Haldir had been.

"We did not expect to see you again so soon," Orophin said.

"I thought you were sailing for the Undying Lands," Legolas replied.

"Those plans have changed, as you can see. We are here because of Haldir," Orophin explained. "His decision was our decision. When he volunteered to lead the regiment, we volunteered to be a part of it. You know we could never leave him."

"I know that," Legolas said, a strange glimmer of pain flashing briefly in his eyes.

Ardamil put a hand on Legolas's back. "And it would not be inaccurate to say that Haldir would never let us leave him," he quipped good-naturedly.

"That I can believe," Legolas laughed, then added as a prompt, "He looked remarkably well. I take it he is fully recovered."

"He is well recovered," Rumil put in.

"Well recovered?" Legolas asked, wondering at Rumil's choice of words.

Rumil inclined his head. "He would not be here otherwise."

Legolas looked from face to face, his own eagerness winning out over delicacy. "How-how did he-how was his recovery?"

It was Orophin who answered with quiet earnestness. "It was difficult. He was held in sleep for so long that we were hoping that, if he ever were healed, it might lessen the severity of what had happened. But it did not."

Every trace of light-heartedness vanished from the conversation.

"Tell me," Legolas insisted.

"He remembered everything," Orophin said after a long hesitation.

"Which means," added Rumil, "that he will never forget. He suffers for it even now."

"Badly?" Legolas asked. "Is that why he volunteered for this? Is he punishing himself?"

"Haldir would not punish himself," Mythis replied, speaking for the first time. "He volunteered because he felt it was the right thing to do. He carries his burden with him, but he does not let it bury him. He is still our captain."

Legolas stood silent for a moment before subjugating his own concerns and recalling his tasking. "He asked me to bring the regiment."

Ardamil nodded. "Very good."

As the elves were regathered into formation, Ardamil faced Legolas squarely. "Will you fight alongside us, Prince of Mirkwood?"

"I would be honored," Legolas replied.

"The honor would be ours," Ardamil grinned. "We have not forgotten your skill as a warrior. And you are as much a brother to us now as any ever could be."

With that, Legolas led the way into the close. He found Aragorn and Haldir where he had left them, and he watched as the placement of the elven warriors took place. They were well-disciplined and accustomed to following orders, and the manning of positions proceeded quickly.

This presented Legolas with the opportunity to greet several of the other elves whom he knew. He moved along the wall, encountering clusters of former acquaintances, yet all along, he was searching for Haldir. He caught sight of him, at last, an image of red and gold, heading across the close towards a crumbling stone structure-the remains of an ancient and now disused shrine-built into the base of the cliff at the back of the Deep.

Legolas hesitated, but only briefly, and then followed him.

The inside of the shrine was poorly lit by a smoking torch that Haldir had kindled to life. Otherwise, it was a dull, cold place. Legolas found Haldir on one knee in front of a statue so defaced and deformed that it was impossible to tell whom it represented, although Legolas knew that such a minor detail had no chance of deterring Haldir in his devotions.

For nearly a minute, Legolas stood silently just inside the shrine's arched doorway, listening as Haldir sang quietly in an ancient language that Legolas had begun to learn many centuries earlier but which he had neglected in these later times.

Still, he was able to pick out a word here and there. It was a prayer of sorts, a song of petition. A call for protection and victory. It was a song that only an elf like Haldir would sing.

Legolas felt a smile of remembrance forming on his lips. Some things had not changed at all. Haldir had never possessed the fine singing voice of most elves, but there was something mesmerizing in his voice, and Legolas had never tired of hearing him sing. If Haldir had ever recognized his deficiency, he had never let it stop him from indulging his love of the activity.

And so Legolas reveled in this private performance. But even more, he recognized and welcomed the fondness swelling his heart again.

Haldir finished singing and was motionless for a few seconds. Then he got to his feet and turned to face Legolas. An affectionate kindness shone on his face.

Legolas spoke first, his voice deep and resonant in the stone enclosure. "Did you know I was in here?"

Haldir nodded. "I was waiting for you to join me."

"I was afraid of disturbing you."

"You are never a disturbance, Legolas. Especially not now."

Legolas walked over to him. "I didn't realize how much I missed hearing you sing."

Haldir gave a small laugh. "The voice of a lark?"

Legolas's smile widened. "Yes, a lark." He paused. "You were singing in the old tongue."

Haldir nodded. "Do you remember any of it?"

"Only a little. I did not stay in practice."

"Atarna ea han ea, na aire esselya . . ."

Legolas suddenly felt as if he were hearing the words of a great dream. He picked up the recitation. "Aranielya na tuluva, na care indomelya cemende tambe Erumande."

They continued together, Haldir turning toward the statue and dropping gently to one knee again. Legolas did the same.

"Amen anta sira ilaurea massamma, ar amen apsene ucaremmar siv' emme apsenet tien I ucarer emmen. A lame tulya usahtienna mal ame etelehta ulcullo. Nasie."

Haldir allowed himself an inward smile of pride at Legolas's remembrance of the prayer. "You have not forgotten it all."

"It would be impossible to forget all of it," Legolas replied. "That prayer had great significance when I learned it. It still does. I had only forgotten."

Haldir drew in a deep breath. "I never forgot."

"Even-even when the Fellowship was in Lorien?"

"Even then."

Legolas reached over and took light hold of Haldir's arm. "I have wondered . . . driven myself to distraction, wondering if . . . if it was you that I was hearing in Lorien."

Haldir raised eyes to Legolas's. "It was me. Where you were concerned, it was me." His voice fell to a whisper. "It was the only part of me that was true, the only part I can look back on without shame." He got to his feet.

"Shame has no place on you, Haldir," Legolas protested warmly, also rising. "It would not dare to even alight upon your brow."

Haldir's eyes showed a subtle amusement. "Ever generous with your praises."

"It is no less than you deserve." Legolas hesitated. There were things he wanted to say, but Haldir was giving him no clear signal to proceed.

Haldir was well aware of Legolas's need to speak. Haldir was not so convinced, however, that he could bear to hear it. It was as Meltheon had said so long ago: Legolas had become Haldir's weakness. And that weakness had been the fulcrum around which had turned a series of events that even now refused to fade into indistinctness. Haldir had not been willing to risk much in those days; he was even less willing now.

"I have worried about you," Legolas said suddenly, a hint of desperation in his voice. "I feared I would never see you again. I feared that you would not survive." His grip on Haldir's arm grew fierce. "I would have stayed if I could. You know that, don't you? But I was sworn to the Fellowship, to the protection of Frodo. Please tell me you understood that."

Haldir held up his hand and brushed Legolas's cheek with the back of his fingers. "Poor Legolas. How you have suffered. You needn't worry yourself any further on my account. I know the trials you have faced since we parted. You should know that I would never hold anything against you. You had your oath to fulfill. Of course, I understood."

As had happened so many times before, Legolas was struck by the realization that he had never truly recognized that which was best in Haldir. Here was an elf of such goodness with so great a capacity for sacrifice that Legolas could not help but feel in awe of him. He closed his eyes and pressed his cheek into Haldir's touch.

Haldir regarded him with a wistful sadness. He could see the heaviness that lay across the Greenleaf's shoulders, and this grieved him. He would have done anything to spare his companion the burden that he now carried. And yet, Haldir knew that Legolas was well equipped for it. Indeed, Haldir could think of no elf better suited to the fight than the Prince of Mirkwood.

Haldir's fingers moved to Legolas's temple. He let the fine strand of braided flaxen fall across his palm. "You must never be sorry for the decisions you made, Legolas. You were strong where I was not." He set the braid behind Legolas's shoulder.

Legolas opened his eyes. "That is how you remember it."

Haldir nodded once slowly.

A long silence passed.

Legolas frowned. Haldir was his usual, stoic self, giving nothing away, showing only enough affection to assure Legolas that there should be no unpleasantness between them. It was frustrating.

"You said you volunteered to lead the elves," Legolas said at last. "Did you know I was here?"

"I knew," he replied. "Her Ladyship informed me that you, Aragorn, and Gimli were here." He paused, reading the unasked question in Legolas's eyes. "Your presence here had no bearing on my decision to volunteer." He went on quickly, before Legolas could feel any sting from this blunt admission. "I have never been one to hide within the borders of Lorien. You know that. You also know that I would not run from evil. If there is any remnant of the old alliances, I would desire to be a part of it."

"Then we shall fight side by side!" Legolas said with determination.

A shadow fell over Haldir's features. "No, Legolas. I would not have you near me when the battle begins."

Legolas was stunned. "Why not?"

"It is not a good idea," was all the answer Haldir was willing to give.

"Haldir, you just said that I was never a disturbance-"

"Do not argue with me, Legolas. You know this is different," Haldir said with quiet authority. "You have seen that many of the elves I have brought with me are from my own patrol. I will be with them. I can not afford to-to . . . " he hesitated, struggling to find the words, " . . . to give them less than my full attention."

"I have already spoken to Mythis and Ardamil and your brothers. They are expecting me to fight alongside them," Legolas replied. "I would be no more than an addition to those whom you have brought."

"My mind is made up on the matter, Legolas. I do not intend to discuss it any further." He turned away and walked around the statue, coming to a shallow stone basin that glimmered in the flickering light. He pulled a thin splinter of kindling from the torch and held it low over the center of the basin.

A bright flame leapt up from the basin and filled the shrine with a dancing light.

Legolas watched him but said nothing. A part of him, the part that felt his importance as the Prince of Mirkwood, felt the urge to remind Haldir that, despite the difference in their years and experience, one was a prince and the other a guardian; and a guardian did not issue orders to a prince. The greater part of him, however, recoiled against the very idea of angering Haldir and questioning his authority. After all, Haldir had several hundred elven warriors for whom he was responsible. Legolas would not use his particular friendship with their captain to demand special consideration when he knew that Haldir would not grant any such thing to his other warriors.

Haldir stood before the flame and placed his hand over his heart. "Ajan Atar, Oija Turo. Bala aud ari ar dosme. Poka Ektele aud Oija jala. Antan Srawava an alker esser. Ndako-ye nukuma. Antan cuilem durner."

Legolas came and stood beside him. "What is this?"

"Part of a forgotten ritual," Haldir replied. "The basin never goes dull for those who know how to use it."

Legolas looked up at Haldir's profile, cast in colors of darkness and light that shifted with the flame. He looked like the glorious captain that he was, his features bold and exquisite, his expression peaceful and confident, an odd mingling of courage with humility.

Haldir spoke again. "The flame will continue to convey my prayers, even once the fighting starts."

"Prayers for whom?"

"For those who will die this night." He gazed into the burning light. "We are greatly outnumbered, Legolas. I do not fool myself into thinking that I will lose none of my warriors."

"And do you not think of yourself?" Legolas asked.

Haldir frowned and spoke words that Legolas had heard many times before. "What good captain does?" With these words, he left the shrine and Legolas.

Legolas first came to Lothlorien in the Spring.

The trip had not been planned, not until the last moment, for Legolas had only recently come into maturity; and neither he nor his father, Thranduil, the Elven King of Mirkwood, had hosted any idea for his future prospects beyond the improvement of his skills as a warrior and the refinement of his diplomatic abilities.

But the passing through Mirkwood in early April by two messengers of the Galadhrim on their way back from business in the far north had presented an opportunity that Thranduil would not pass up. Many centuries had passed since any prince of Mirkwood, including the King himself, had stepped foot within the golden woods of Lothlorien. Yet, here was a ready-made escort, even if that had not been part of their original task. Thranduil sent a message by wing to Lord Celeborn of Lorien; and a favorable reply having been received, when the two Galadhrim left Mirkwood in mid-April, they had in their company, Thranduil's greatest pride and the fairest of all the woodland elves. Legolas was filled with the fire and excitement of youth, the hope of great adventure, and the prospect of learning from the strange and beautiful elves that inhabited the Golden Realm.

The passage south was made on horseback, the journey rain-drenched but pleasant enough, following the low road on the western shore of the Anduin. On the eighth day after they had set out, the small party came to the northern borders of the Woods of Lothlorien. Here, they encountered a patrol, but Legolas's two companions were well known to the Guardians, and the travelers passed without incident.

From that point, Legolas spoke little. Indeed, he was too enraptured by his surroundings to give much thought to anything else. Lothlorien was even more splendid than the tales could tell, for it was Spring, and never had Legolas beheld such a sight. The boughs of the great Mellyrn trees stretched away towards the heavens and were laden with yellow flowers, whose fragrance wafted down from the heights like a sweet rain. The forest floor was also golden, covered with autumn leaves that had only just fallen, for such was the way of the Mellyrn, that they held their turned leaves until the Spring.

Deep into the woods, they came upon the Celebrant and here the horses were turned over to more of the Guardians who, Legolas noticed, seemed to appear out of the shining mists, unnoticed until they called attention to themselves. If he could learn nothing more than such an art of concealment, he would be very pleased.

Legolas and his two companions crossed the Celebrant by means of a punt, and coming to the far side, they seemed to have no path to follow, yet the two Lorien elves were sure-directed and hesitated not at all. They continued on south for several miles until, coming out of the woods, they came to a wide, treeless, space, running in a great circle and bending away on either hand. Beyond that was a deep fosse upon the brink of which ran a road of white stone. Inside the fosse there rose to a great height a green wall encircling a green hill thronged with mellyrn trees taller than any Legolas had seen in all the land.

"This is Caras Galadhon, city of the Galadhrim," one of the guides announced. "The gates are not much further. Then we will take you directly to see the Lord and Lady."

"That will be very good," Legolas replied. "I am anxious to meet those of whom I have heard so much."

---

The receiving hall of Lord Celeborn sat at a tremendous height in the tallest of the mellyrn. The flet upon which it stood was wide and long, like the deck of a great ship. The hall was oval-shaped, with the trunk of the mellyrn rising through the middle as it tapered towards its crown. The chamber was softly lit, its walls green and silver, it roof gold. On two chairs beneath the bole of the tree there sat, side by side, Celeborn and Galadriel. They stood up, after the manner of Elves, to greet Legolas as he entered with his escort.

"This is Prince Legolas of Mirkwood, Son of Thranduil," one of the guides announced, as Legolas placed his hand on his heart and then swept out his arm in greeting.

Celeborn nodded to the guide. "Welcome Legolas, son of Thranduil. Please, join us." Then to the two messengers, "Thank you, Nenstil. You and Flagon have been excellent. You may go. I shall summon you again to hear your report."

Once his two companions had left, Legolas felt strangely more at ease. Even as he beheld the two dazzling creatures before him, he experienced a sense of awe, but the awe left him unabashed. The Lord and Lady of the Galadhrim were surpassingly beautiful, clad all in white, tall and grave and lovely. The Lady's hair was deep gold, while the Lord's was silver long and bright. They were ageless, except perhaps in the depths of their eyes, which were keen and profound.

Legolas spoke right away, before sitting, anxious to be rid of the formal, rehearsed greeting that he had carried within his head all the days since leaving Mirkwood.

"My Lord and Lady, I bring greetings from my father, Thranduil of Mirkwood. He sends blessings and gifts, of which I am the happy bearer." It only then occurred to Legolas that the gifts were down at the bottom of tree in the hands of one of the Elf-wardens that guarded access to the Lord and Lady, for he had not thought it wise to lug his pack up the ladder to such heights. Still, Legolas was undaunted. "It is his desire and mine that I may stay in Lorien for some months and learn from my fair cousins to the South."

With these words, they sat down and Celeborn nodded his approval. "That was well spoken and well received. Your request is a noble one, which we will be only too happy to oblige," Celeborn said politely. "Have you any preference for your learning?"

"Whatever presents the greatest challenge and learning opportunity," Legolas replied, and his eyes grew bright and hopeful. "I should very much like to train with the Guardians of Lorien, for they are reputed to be the finest of warriors. Yes, I should very much like that."

Celeborn could not suppress a smile at the blithe manner of Thranduil's son.

"Very well. The choice is easily made, then." Celeborn turned to one of his attendants. "Fetch Haldir."

"Yes, my Lord."

The attendant departed, and Legolas fought down his curiosity over what type of elf the attendant would return with-what type of elf this Haldir was-and forced his attention on the words of Lord Celeborn, who had begun to speak again.

" . . . is very skilled and has a great range of experience. You will not be disappointed. I dare say the Wide Patrols are the most exciting of any Guardian duties."

Legolas smiled. "I am looking forward to it." He suddenly felt the eyes of the Lady Galadriel on him, and he turned a blushing countenance towards her, though he had no idea why he should be embarrassed. Her gaze was blue like glacial ice, but there was nothing cold in it. There was warmth and knowledge and memory. And there was soft appraisal, and perhaps this was what brought the color to Legolas's cheeks.

"Such joy," Galadriel said at last. "The world is still new to you. You seek the experience of beauty for its own sake."

Legolas's blush deepened.

Galadriel's expression was one of neither joy nor sadness. She rather looked intrigued as she concluded with words as gentle as a dove's voice. "You carry your passion like a banner for all to see. The Lord of the Galadhrim has spoken truly, for I see already that you will find that which you seek under the leadership of the Captain of the Wide Patrol." Her eyes narrowed slightly. "Verily, I say that you shall find more than you desire. Haldir will do well by you. Among the Galadhrim, he is our most trusted and capable captain. Learn from him." She paused. "And do not forget that while you serve as a Guardian, you will owe him your allegiance."

"I will remember, my Lady."

Shortly, the doors at the end of the hall opened, admitting two elves. Legolas recognized the first elf as the one that Celeborn had dispatched earlier, so that meant that the other elf was the one named Haldir.

And if he were not Haldir, then Legolas was prepared to be greatly saddened, for the elf who had entered was a sight to behold.

For all that Legolas had admired the loveliness of the Lorien woods and the Celebrant and the stunning radiance of the Lord and Lady, he found himself suddenly wondering if he had ever beheld true beauty until now. He had expected to see an elf much like the two who had brought him to Lorien - an elf of pleasing appearance and subtle grace. He had not expected to see a creature whose glory rivaled that of the sun itself.

The elf strode through the hall, his movements infused with an elegance that reflected a profound reverence in the presence of his Lord and Lady. His was dressed simply in colors of dark, smoky blue and black. His hair, golden like autumn sheaves, hung about his shoulders in a less than refined and somewhat chaotic manner, as if the summons to see his Lord had caused him to prepare hastily.

He came and stood before Celeborn and Galadriel and bowed his head. "You sent for me, my Lord?"

"I did," Celeborn replied, and Haldir raised his head.

Celeborn made the introductions. "Legolas, this is Haldir, one of the Guardians of Lorien, Captain of our Wide Patrol. Haldir, this is Prince Legolas of Mirkwood, third son of Thranduil."

Haldir bowed slightly and brought his hand to his heart in greeting.

Legolas returned the gesture, but without his usual grace, for he was intent on the face before him, on the eyes regarding him with subdued curiosity. Haldir's features were very distinctive, beyond conventional ideas of Elven beauty; and Legolas was enjoying looking at him.

"Legolas has come to learn about his kin to the south," Celeborn explained. "And he has particularly requested to spend some time with the Guardians. And what better way for him to experience Guardian duties than with the Wide Patrol."

"Yes, my Lord," Haldir replied.

"You will look after him and train him well," Celeborn said, and Haldir did not miss the unspoken command in his words: And you will let nothing ill befall him.

"Yes, my Lord," Haldir said again.

Celeborn returned his attention to Legolas. "Then I leave you to Haldir."

"Thank you, my Lord," Legolas replied with a slight bow. He looked to Haldir, who offered a sweeping gesture with his arm, inviting Legolas to proceed with him from the hall.

After they had gone, Galadriel spoke quietly. "Haldir's beauty did not go unnoticed by the Prince of Mirkwood. Legolas will challenge him."

"I sensed it, as well," Celeborn agreed.

Galadriel was thoughtful. "The Wide Patrol shall be an interesting duty over the next several months."

---

Once Haldir and Legolas had removed from the hall and were walking side by side down a short winding stair to a lower talan, Haldir spoke in a much more relaxed voice than that which he had used to address Lord Celeborn.

So, tell me-Legolas, is it? Was the Wide Patrol your choice or a choice made for you?" he asked pleasantly.

"A combination of the two. I informed Lord Celeborn that I wanted the most challenging assignment and that I wanted to learn from the best of his warriors. He made the choice from there."

Haldir could not help but be pleased. He had long known Celeborn's satisfaction with him as a Guardian, but to be considered the best . . . this was news to him.

"Certainly, he made the choice that will give you the widest range of experience," Haldir remarked.

Legolas grinned. "I am glad to hear it."

"We just came back from a patrol. We have the rest of this week off. Then next week, we train here in Lorien, and after that, we go on patrol again for six weeks."

"Very good."

"That gives us time to get you situated. The patrol has a group of talans. Most of us also have our own private talans, but those who are not bonded prefer to stay in the common ones. It is good for camaraderie. You are welcome to stay in the common talans, if you like, unless his Lordship has already given you guest quarters. Or you can stay with me, if you prefer not to stay with the rest of the patrol-"

Legolas laughed. "So many choices. I will stay in the patrol's talans. It will be a good way to get to know them."

"I will have my brother, Orophin, make the arrangements. I will also have him take you to the fitters."

"The fitters?"

"For proper attire."

Legolas looked down at his woodland garb of green and brown. "This isn't proper enough?"

"You would stand out less if you were dressed like the rest of the patrol," Haldir replied easily.

"That is true," Legolas agreed, recalling the silver-gray garments of the patrol that had met his party upon entering Lorien. "I will visit the fitters."

They crossed a narrow, railing-less span, and then came to ladder, cast down and descending towards the forest floor below. "Have you ever soldiered before?" Haldir asked, as he began to climb down. There was a hint of swagger in his voice.

"A little," Legolas replied. "I have been trained in all the basic skills."

"What can you do?"

"I'm a good shot. Handy with knives and a fair rider."

"Hand-to-hand?"

Legolas conceded, "Not so good."

"Sword work?"

"Not so bad."

Haldir laughed - a clear, ringing sound so filled with genuine mirth that it made Legolas laugh, as well.

"You are very honest, Legolas, Prince of Mirkwood. By the time you leave Lorien and return to your dark forests of Mirkwood, you will be an expert in all skills," Haldir said.

Legolas looked down to see Haldir beaming up at him from below on the ladder. "And is there anything a Lorien elf might learn from his cousins to the north?" Legolas asked in amusement.

A good-natured smile played on the Guardian's lips. "We shall see."

They came to a long, narrow talan, at one end of which an elf sat restringing his bow.

"Orophin," Haldir announced.

The elf raised his head, revealing a striking, angular face, piercing eyes, and a smile that looked amazingly similar to Haldir's. The elf stood up to face the new arrivals.

"Yes, Nikerym?"

"This is Legolas of Mirkwood. Thranduil's son. He's going to be joining the patrol," Haldir explained.

"A prince in our midst," Orophin said with raised eyebrows. "This is an honor."

"Please, I beg you, do not treat me like a prince. I wish to be treated like any other member of the patrol," Legolas replied.

Haldir pat him on the shoulder. "And so you shall be." Then, to Orophin. "See to his lodging and then take him to the fitters."

"Yes, Nikerym."

"And be a good host," Haldir added with a meaningful glance, which Orophin knew to be the unspoken order to keep Legolas entertained. He looked to Legolas. "I may see you later this evening."

After Haldir had left, Legolas turned to see Orophin eyeing him with interest.

"I've never met any of the Mirkwood princes before," Orophin admitted.

Legolas grinned. "I'd never met a Guardian of Lorien until now."

"A new experience for both of us," Orophin said, and his eyes shined even brighter. "And I suppose we should get off to a proper start and do as Haldir asked."

"Haldir told me you were brothers," Legolas said as Orophin led the way across the talan, to where another overlapped, and beyond that another.

"That's true," Orophin replied.

"And yet you call him 'nikerym'?" Legolas was amused.

"I am in his patrol and under his orders. I show him the respect his position deserves," Orophin replied, then a chuckle broke from his lips. "But if the truth be known, I usually call him Haldir. Only there are times when 'nikerym' seems more appropriate. You'll find that's the way it is in the patrol."

"Lady Galadriel told me he is the best captain of the Galadhrim," Legolas commented.

"And the Lady is always right," Orophin winked. "Especially this time."

"That's very high praise, coming from the Lady of Lorien."

Orophin nodded. "Haldir deserves it."

Legolas narrowed his eyes. "Not even a hint of sibling rivalry?"

"Not with Haldir," Orophin replied, the affection plain in his voice.

"Really? My brothers and I compete at everything," Legolas said.

"I have another brother named Rumil. He and I compete from time to time. But there's no competition with Haldir." It was such a definitive statement that it piqued Legolas's curiosity.

"Why is that?" he asked.

"I could never explain it. After a few weeks with the patrol, you'll understand why," Orophin said with a shrug.

"Now, you've got my mind working. No competition at all? So, no one has ever tried to best him?"

Orophin turned with a mild suspicion and an even greater humor to face Legolas. "Ah, I see. You intend to compete with him?"

"No! I never even thought about it. I am just admittedly intrigued by your remarks," Legolas protested.

"Then I shall say no more on the subject, so as not to increase your curiosity any further," Orophin quipped. He came to a halt at one end of a circle of talans, hung with lamps and screens and gossamer nettings. In the center of the circle and about 20 feet below there was a larger talan, reachable from the circle by a series of rope ladders. Through its center rose the broad grey trunk of the mellyrn, and another rope ladder ran down out of sight along the trunk towards the forest floor. Several elves were gathered on this larger talan, speaking in quiet voices and tending to various activities.

"These are the patrol's talans. The ones above in the circle are for sleeping. And down there is the day room. You may choose any spot on the sleeping talans that you wish. There are no assigned places, although most of us do have our preferred spots. I can show you the open spaces. Did you bring anything with you?"

Legolas gave a start, amazed at his forgetfulness. "I have a pack. I left it with the Elf-wardens on the ground below the Great Hall."

"That will be no trouble, then. We shall be able to retrieve it when we go to the fitters." Orophin began walking around the circle. "You will need nothing for soldiering that the patrol will not provide. Even here, we have skins and cloaks and coverlets and pillows, screens and dividers to offer a bit of privacy, though not much, I must admit." He paused and took a quick, intense look at Legolas. "I see you have brought your own weapons, but we will outfit you with the weapons of the Galadhrim."

Legolas felt his excitement mounting. The weapons of the Galadhrim. He had seen the longbows of the Guardians and the sight had fed his desire to curl his fingers around such a fine piece of work.

Orophin then proceeded to show Legolas where he might make himself at home, but Legolas deferred making a selection, stating that he would prefer to wait and see for himself which places were taken, so as not to unintentionally give offense on his first day in the patrol.

This seemed to please Orophin, who then moved to the edge of the talan upon which they were standing. "Then perhaps you would like to meet some members of the patrol. Look, they are down there, straining their necks, trying to catch a glimpse of you."

Legolas's grin was answer enough, and Orophin, rather than using any of the ladders down into the center talan, sprang out and landed, however lightly, in the midst of a knot of four elves.

"Orophin!" cried one, drawing back and shielding the sword he had been polishing. "You are fortunate not to have landed on my blade!"

Orophin leaned close and examined the gleaming metal. "You only polish that blade so that it will reflect back your image to you, Mythis."

Mythis groaned and looked to where Legolas was still standing on the upper flets. "If you feel the need to follow his example, please try to land elsewhere."

Legolas leapt down, making sure that he landed well away from the four grumbling elves. Another elf was speaking. "Haldir would say Mythis is being conscientious, keeping his weapons in good order."

Orophin pat Mythis on the back. "Yes, of course, it is just as Ardamil says! After all, a shining blade is more lethal than a sharp one."

At that, the four elves laughed. "There is more of your brother in you every day," the one named Ardamil remarked. "Although you still have to learn his manners, since you have neglected to introduce us to your companion."

Orophin's gray eyes twinkled like the glinting of sunlight in drops of water. "I do not recall being given the opportunity, but I shall do so now." He held out his arm, beckoning Legolas to his side. "Friends, we have a new member of the patrol," Orophin began. "This is Legolas of Mirkwood." No mention was made of his lineage. "He has come to learn from the Guardians, and Lord Celeborn himself placed him in the Wide Patrol."

"You are welcome," Ardamil said as he and the others rose in greeting. "You must excuse this wayward elf," he went on, nodding at Orophin with affection. "He finds our peace and quiet too dull for his tastes, and so he contrives ways to agitate us, which then forces us to report something of his behavior to our captain." He cuffed Orophin playfully. "I am Ardamil. I am subaltern to our captain." He then took it upon himself to introduce the others: Mythis, whose face was indeed handsome but without the conceitedness that Orophin had jokingly ascribed to him; Maynfeln, who was the patrol's healer and reckoned its best story-teller; and Luredan, quiet and observant but with an openness in his features that invited confidence.

"The rest of the patrol is out and about," Ardamil explained. "We are on free time right now, for we came off patrol the day before yesterday. Sunday next, we return to duty. In the meantime, most of the patrol have gone to their families or their private homes. Still, most stop by for talk or a song or a bit of quiet."

"How many are in the patrol?" Legolas asked.

"Twenty-four, including the captain," Ardamil replied. "Have you met Haldir yet?"

"Yes, I have, briefly," Legolas replied, and Ardamil caught the enthusiasm in his voice.

"You will like him very much," the subaltern said assuredly. "He is as good an elf as ever walked Middle Earth."

Legolas raised an eyebrow. "So I am beginning to understand. He is spoken of with great praise. I am astounded at the degree to which he is held in esteem."

"He is just another captain of the Galadhrim. He himself will tell you this. But those who know him know his worth," Ardamil replied. "There are greater names in Lorien, but those we deem the most important are those that move in our own midst." He turned to Orophin. "So, have we time to give proper welcome, or are you under orders?"

"Under orders, of course," Orophin replied. "We make now for the fitters."

Here, Maynfeln spoke out cheerfully. "I rather like the colors of Mirkwood."

"Yes, they are pleasing to look at," Orophin agreed, "But they do no good here in the woods of Lorien. What stealth could he hope to have so garbed?"

"The stealth of a soft footfall and an eagle's swiftness?" Maynfeln suggested. "I am only trying to picture him in the grey and silver of Lorien. I can not see it."

"You shall see it, and then you shall not have to picture anymore," Orophin replied.

"Then you must go with him to the fitters, Legolas," Ardamil said. "And if he has any sense of courtesy, he will bring you to the fountain tonight for proper introductions and some chance for hearing music and story-telling."

"He has been courteous thus far," Legolas replied, laughing. Already, he was thinking Lord Celeborn had made an excellent choice in sending him to the Wide Patrol. These were good-natured elves of the outgoing sort.

"Ah! You see there, Ardamil! Courteous thus far! Is that not a fine compliment?" Orophin laced an arm around Legolas's shoulders, as Legolas broke out in laughter anew. "Before I swoon from such flattery, we had better get to the fitters, or Haldir will have me pulling duty on the northern fences with the likes of -"

"You are incorrigible, Orophin!" Ardamil proclaimed. "Go! Go now, and try not to lead poor Legolas into trouble."

---

They went first to retrieve Legolas's pack, and from there they made for the fitters, which was situated on a lower talan, though still high off the ground, and reached by a series of rope ladders and steps. As they climbed, Legolas looked about him, still in awe of the great city in the trees. There were structures - homes, perhaps-built on some of the larger flets, yet everything seemed open and welcoming.

Across a great open expanse, he saw a lone figure mounting up a long flight of steps between two branches on the same tree. "Isn't that Haldir?" he asked.

Orophin followed the direction of his gaze. "Yes, it is."

When Orophin offered no further remark, Legolas did not ask any further questions. It would be unseemly for him to ask after the movements of the elf who was to be his leader for the next several weeks at least. Instead, he continued on beside Orophin, but his eyes followed Haldir up to the top of the steps, where the Guardian crossed a short, flat bridge to a small, pretty house, where he was met by another elf who had come to stand in the doorway. The strange elf flung out his arms but did not touch Haldir. He was speaking and Haldir responded, but the words could not be heard across the distance, and Legolas felt ashamed for even wondering what they were saying. A moment later, there was the faint ringing of their laughter and they disappeared into the house.

Legolas traded his shame for mild indignance, which felt odd but suited him much better, for he was easily able to convince himself that as a prince and an honored guest entrusted to the care of Haldir, that the least Haldir could do would be to look after him himself, instead of passing him off to another member of the patrol, even though that member be his brother.

"Here we are, then," Orophin announced. They had come to a long, narrow talan, arched over from both sides with curves beams, so that the structure looked like the upended hull of a ship. Inside they were met by an elf-maid of goodly temper.

"Orophin, tell me not that you have rent yet another cloak," the elf-maid teased. "We shall have to set up a table that does nothing but mend what you have ruined."

"No such thing this time, Alethe. I am come on an errand much more to your liking. This is Legolas. He is to be a member of the patrol, and Haldir has left it to me to see that he is properly fitted, and now I leave it to you, good lady," Orophin replied. "Though I think I must stay and watch, for I believe it will be great fun."

Alethe waved her hand dismissively at Orophin. "It will be a joy to outfit one so fair. Come, Legolas, this will be easy work."

And it was easy work, as far as the fitting and the sewing went. The elf-maidens working in the fitters were nimble and quick at their work. Within an hour, Legolas was wearing the silver-grey of the Lorien elves. And he was wretched.

"I can not wear such a thing!" he protested, regarding himself in the polished glass.

"True, you look very ill," Orophin replied with an amused grin tugging at the corner of his mouth.

"Lorien elves may be beautiful in these colors, but . . . I despise this! Even the cut of it is abominable!"

Alethe stood behind him, primping and crimping. "Now, now, you look fine. You just are not used to it, but I tell you truly, it is a flattering thing on you."

Orophin simpered. "I suppose it makes no difference, since you must wear it either way. Only it is not flattering! Alethe, how you can say such a thing is a wonder to me."

"You are only jealous, because you do not look as fine in yours," Alethe shot back. "Besides, there are others who are better suited to be judges of beauty."

"I will take it, if I must," Legolas conceded. "But I will not wear it until the patrol resumes its duties."

"That is perfectly alright," Orophin replied. "None of us wear the uniform when we are on free time. It is not our custom to do so."

Legolas changed back into his own clothes then accepted the tied bundle that was his uniform from Alethe. He turned to Orophin. "And now?"

"Now to the armory."

---

The rest of the day passed between various shops and the introduction of Legolas to elves too numerous to remember. Orophin appeared to be very well known and equally well-liked. Legolas was beginning to think that perhaps Haldir had done the right thing in handing him over to Orophin, for he was charming, funny, and a wealth of information. Legolas had learned that Haldir was the oldest of the three brothers. Orophin was in the middle. Rumil was the youngest . . .

" . . . although in many ways, Haldir is like the youngest," Orophin said with consideration.

"In what ways?" Legolas asked.

Orophin shrugged. "You will see."

Legolas grunted his disapproval. "You vex me, Orophin. You say many mysterious things and then refuse to elaborate."

Orophin only grinned. "They are things you must learn by experience. But this one is not so complicated. You are the youngest, are you not?"

"Yes."

"And how do your brothers treat you?"

"They love me."

"Yes, of course. But how do they treat you?"

Legolas thought about how to answer the question, but his silence was too long for Orophin, who prompted him, "Are they protective of you?"

"Very much so."

"There you have it. That is one of the ways. Rumil and I are very protective of Haldir. In fact, the entire patrol is protective of him. He rather needs it, I might add. And the humorous thing is that he is also our protector," Orophin explained.

"And the other ways?"

"Some other time. Here, we have been going all the day long. It is evening and time for the fountain. You will meet many of the patrol there. It is a popular spot. I can assure you, you will have a fine time."

---

The fountain was literally that - a fountain. Made of polished marble the color of ivory and sculpted with the intricate shapes of foxes and exotic birds, it was set beautifully in the center of circular green lawn twenty yards across and bordered with stone benches and tables. The tables were piled with various delicacies and glittering flasks of wine and nectar. Upon the benches and about the lawn, there lounged elves, both male and female; and upon the low wall of the fountain pool, a musical group of three perched for their rendering of a sweet, wordless tune.

As predicted, many members of the Wide Patrol were present among the numbers; and Legolas spent the first hour being introduced to them all. Orophin made sure that the prince's glass never went empty, but he also made sure that it was never filled with anything too strong. Haldir would be greatly displeased if, while under Orophin's watch, the Prince of Mirkwood's first action was to distinguish himself by public drunkenness.

Not unexpectedly, Legolas found himself the object of many an elf-maiden's attention. This, he did not mind; in fact, he rather enjoyed it. His was a new face and an attractive one at that. If they were curious about him and wanted to fawn over him, he was not going to stop them. And although many of them were uncommonly pretty, Legolas could not deny that he was waiting hopefully to see one particular face above all others.

It was moving from evening into night when Haldir came to the fountain. He was greeted, not with the fairly loud and rambunctious chorus that had welcomed earlier arrivals, but rather with a subdued yet thoroughly genuine gladness that expressed itself in silent smiles and beaming eyes.

He looked very much as he had that morning with one notable exception. His hair, which had been in such disarray, was now styled with beautiful simplicity, showing off its rich thickness.

Legolas watched as Haldir stopped to talk to this or that elf, showing all of them the same interested courtesy. At length, Haldir came and joined him where he was sitting next to Orophin on the wall of the pool.

"I take it Orophin has been seeing to your needs," Haldir began.

"Yes, he's been an excellent companion," Legolas replied, his eyes still roving over the cascades of brilliant gold that fell over Haldir's shoulders.

Haldir noticed Legolas's stare and could not suppress a grin. "Did you think I was inviting the birds to nest in my hair when we met this morning?"

Legolas's eyes widened and embarrassment burned in his pale cheeks, but he managed to regain his composure long enough to reply, "The work is very fine."

"I would thank you for the compliment, but it is not my own work. I have no patience for it-no skill either, but luckily, there are those in the patrol who have both the patience and the skill."

And the luck, Legolas said to himself, thinking how much he would like to touch the thick tresses, so different from his own thinner and less radiant hair.

As if reading his thought, Haldir studied Legolas's braids. "You appear to have some skill, yourself. Is that your own work?"

"Yes," Legolas replied, smiling.

"Then perhaps you will permit some of the patrol to avail themselves of your services when we are out beyond the borders," Haldir queried.

"I would be happy to, but I should be surprised if anyone would come to me when another member of the patrol can do such beautiful work."

"Nonsense," Haldir replied. "I, myself, am planning to make use of your ability, if you are undaunted by the prospect of taming something that can get wildly out of control."

Legolas laughed. "It did not look quite so wild this morning . . . just . . . natural."

"You are already well-learned in diplomacy," Haldir grinned. He reached out and ran a finger along the tight braid over Legolas's right ear. "But if you can duplicate such intricate work, especially in the field, I shall be very pleased."

At that moment, Haldir's attention shifted, and his hand dropped from its admiration of Legolas's handiwork as he addressed a new arrival. "Ah! We were just speaking of you and your miraculous taming of the mane!"

Legolas turned and saw approaching them the same elf he had seen with Haldir earlier in the day; and inexplicably, he felt his heart sink. The elf was almost as beautiful as Haldir and possessed a gentleness in his expression that Legolas recognized as the natural outward manifestation of a pure spirit.

"Miraculous? T'was no miracle. T'was hard work and much of it," came the reply, spoken by a voice smooth and deep and musical. His gaze went to Legolas as he drew up to stand in front of them. "You must be Legolas."

Legolas stood and gave the elven greeting. When they sat again, the strange elf had placed himself between Legolas and Haldir, much to Legolas's irritation.

"Haldir has told me that you will be joining the patrol," the newcomer said.

Legolas's only response was a curt, "Yes."

Orophin leaned out, "And he is going to replace you as the keeper of the golden locks!"

This remark made Haldir laugh. "You should not tease him, Orophin! At least Rumil has some skill with such things, where you are all thumbs!"

"Yes, and that is why I also turn to him to manage my own hair! What are brothers for-" Orophin wrapped his arm playfully around Haldir's neck, "-if not to tease! Of course, if you prefer, I could transfer my loyalties to Legolas, and then our poor brother would find himself braiding only his own head!"

Rumil? Legolas gave a slight gasp. This is Haldir's other brother! I should have guessed. He regarded the three brothers sitting close together on the bench. The resemblance now seemed clear. They were all three dazzling like mithril.

Haldir slid out from Orophin's grip and took a brother in each arm. "My ray of sunlight and my ray of moonlight!"

And see how they care for each other. Legolas suddenly felt something that he had not expected: it was envy. He could not quite understand it, for he and his brothers, although competitive, shared a deep familial love that had long been the foundation for Legolas's unfettered joy and self-confidence. Yet, as he regarded Haldir with his brothers, he felt a powerful desire to have that affectionate gaze turned his way, to feel an adoring arm about his shoulders.

"Which is which?" he asked at last.

Haldir squeezed Orophin. "Moonlight." Another squeeze for Rumil. "Sunlight."

"And what does that leave for you?" Legolas asked.

"That leaves me as the joyful recipient," Haldir replied.

Orophin spoke, and although he was grinning from ear to ear, his voice carried a serious undertone. "Haldir is the heavens."

"The realm in which sunlight and moonlight dwell," Rumil added.

"And all the stars and the clouds and the rains and the winds." Orophin spoke almost as if he were reciting a prayer. "He is our home."

Haldir pulled them closer. "Is it any wonder that I am arrogant when I have two such flatterers?"

As he spoke, a call went up from the assembled elves.

"A song!! A song! Who will sing?"

"Let the newest member of the Wide Patrol grace us with a song!" This was from Ardamil, who was seated with a collection of elf-maidens.

Cries of 'Legolas! Legolas!' filled the air.

Legolas, never one to pretend shyness, stood up. "Very well! Very well. I will sing a song . . ." He turned his eye to Haldir. " . . . if my captain agrees to sing one after me."

Haldir inclined his head. "Agreed."

Legolas moved to where the musicians had been seated earlier and took up a spot. He began singing in Elvish the words of a song he had learned in his youth - the charming, meaningless story of Anhumat, a restless swallow in search of a home.

In the Spring, Anhumat followed the east wind And it led him far over the horizon To where the great palaces stand upon the clouds.

There, in the Summer, he met the south wind And it bore him shimmering like sunlight To the halls of mountain kings.

When Autumn came, the west wind called sweetly And he followed it over water and sand To the last of the shrines of bygone days.

In the Winter, the north wind came cold and weary. "I wish to stay in this land with the west wind," Anhumat said. And the north wind sighed and went on alone.

When he had finished, appreciative applause rose from his audience. Legolas had a beautiful voice, fluid and soothing and surprisingly deep. But even more than that, he had a presence. His mannerisms and expressions were riveting. He knew how to play a crowd, and he made good use of the full extent of his abilities and his natural attractiveness.

And now, as the final act in his performance, he turned towards Haldir and made a grand gesture with his arm. "I believe I may now turn the stage over to you, my good captain."

Haldir gave an ambiguous grin as he rose from his place and nodded his acknowledgment. He then summoned Ardamil and Luredan, both of whom had instruments: Ardamil's was a stringed instrument played with a bow, Luredan's was a lute.

And then began a moment that Legolas would never forget, a moment over which he would brood and agonize for many weeks. It was the moment he first fell into danger, although as yet, he did not recognize it as such.

It was a simple melody that the two instruments brought forth, exotic yet strangely docile and pure. Slow, languishing . . . yearning. A sound like great yearning.

Then Haldir began to sing in a language that sounded faintly Elvish but of which Legolas could not understand a single word. But his inability to understand did nothing to lessen the enchantment. He sat quietly and listened as if in a rapture, entranced by the singing of the elf he was to call 'nikerym'.

It was a fine voice, but a far cry from the usual dulcet ability of most elves. And yet, Legolas would have denied that there was any deficiency. Haldir's voice could wound the most hardened and calloused of hearts. For Legolas, whose heart was as yet still soft and pliable, the performance had an almost tantalizing effect. Something in those unknown words and the unpolished voice reached down inside him and made a bizarre stirring deep in his soul. Whatever that stirring was, Legolas did not give much thought to identifying it; he was content to merely enjoy and nurture it.

Haldir, unlike Legolas, was not a showman. His gaze fell mainly on the ground or looked at some vague point never too far distant. He did not move or gesture as he sang. He did not smile or frown. He looked completely comfortable, but Legolas also thought that he seemed to be hardly there. It was as if his body stood and his mouth sang, but that interiorly, he had been transported elsewhere - and that was where the true audience, the true recipient of his song resided.

It was also a fairly lengthy song, but when it ended, there was a tremendous round of applause, but even this could not break the spell that had fallen over Legolas. He sat without moving or speaking, the sound of Haldir's voice echoing through his head. At length, a shadow fell across him, and he looked up to see Haldir standing in front of him with two glasses in his hands. He held one glass out to Legolas, who took it awkwardly.

"You have great talent," Haldir complimented. "A good singer is always a great addition to any patrol. You will be called upon often."

Legolas looked up at him with bemused eyes. "I am surprised that anyone else would even think of singing after they have heard you."

Haldir smiled. "That is kindly said." He sat down beside Legolas and took a sip from his glass. "So, are you well settled now?"

"I am, but I have to tell you that I despise the Guardian uniforms. I looked ghastly in it," Legolas replied.

"I find that hard to believe," Haldir countered.

"You will see it for yourself," Legolas assured him. "Until then, you may wish to withhold your opinion."

A glint showed in Haldir's eye. "You are far too fair to be made ghastly by mere cloth."

"And now you are making fun of me?" Legolas challenged.

Haldir shook his head. "Look at all those elf-maidens. They have watched you all night."

Now it was Legolas's turn to laugh. "Were they? I thought they were all watching you."

"We could go on with this mutual flattery for hours," Haldir said good-naturedly. "But I only stopped down here to make sure Orophin had not left you to yourself."

"No, no, he has been very good," Legolas replied. "They have all been very kind."

"I am glad to hear it," Haldir nodded approvingly. He finished off his glass and got to his feet. "In that event, I will leave you to enjoy the rest of the evening."

"You are not leaving?" Legolas asked, standing up.

"Yes, I am. A spell of peace and quiet will do me good."

"But I think-I think everyone would like you to stay," Legolas said. "You do not want to disappoint them, do you?"

"I would never want that," Haldir asked.

"Then stay," Legolas persisted.

"Would you think less of an elf who says that he's exhausted?" Haldir asked, admitting a condition that few elves would ever acknowledge.

A softness came over Legolas's features. "Of course not."

"Then you will excuse me?"

Legolas nodded.

"Good night," Haldir said with a slight bow.

"Will I see you tomorrow?"

"I don't think so, but Orophin will see to you. And now that you've already met a number of the patrol, you will not be wanting for companionship."

Legolas felt a strange disappointment, which Haldir could sense.

"Please understand . . .there are certain things that wear on me. Tonight you witnessed one of them," Haldir explained.

Legolas looked confused.

"The song," Haldir went on.

"The song? The song exhausted you? But it was so beautiful."

"It was meant to be beautiful. Its recipient deserves nothing less. But it is difficult to put the appropriate sentiments truly into the song, especially in public," Haldir replied. "It takes a lot out of me to give of myself in that way."

Its recipient. Legolas wondered what that could mean, but instead of asking the probing question, he opted for a less intrusive one. "What language was that?"

"What you might call Ancient Quenyan, but properly named, it is Primordial Elvish - the root language from which all Elvish derives."

"What was the song about?"

Haldir smiled and touched Legolas's shoulder. "Another time, Legolas. We will have many days together in which to discuss whatever you like. Only right now, I am much in need of peace."

Legolas accepted this. He had no other choice.

He watched Haldir leave, then he made his way over to join Ardamil and several other elves from the patrol. And although his heart was no longer in it, he stayed several more hours at the fountain, until at last, led by Orophin back to the patrol's talans, he came to the end of his first day in Lorien. And it was as he began undressing that he realized, much to his surprise and consternation, that he had left his pack at the fitters.

Legolas did not see Haldir the next day. In fact, three days passed without any word or even glimpse of the Captain of the Wide Patrol. Instead, Legolas spent most of his time with Orophin, making several more trips to the armorers and being led on tours through Caras Galadhon. He retrieved his pack from the fitters, only to leave it in Orophin's private talan, after having dined there on the very same evening in which he had regained it. Indeed, Legolas was beginning to wonder if there was something in the Lorien air that was making him forgetful. Only, there were certain things he did not forget . . .

"I have not seen Haldir since the day I arrived," Legolas said casually, as he and Orophin headed for the fountain on the fourth night of his stay.

"Haldir tends to be fairly private when we are not on patrol," Orophin replied. "But you will see him tomorrow. He and Rumil will join us for dinner."

Legolas found this to be good news, indeed.

---

Whatever Orophin was cooking (and he was very secretive about it), it smelled wonderful. This much Legolas had discovered over the past two days: that Orophin was a superb cook. In addition to his other assets-for Orophin was kindhearted, quick-witted and generous-he had served up several excellent dishes for his guest, and Legolas appreciated his efforts.

"I am really the only one of my brothers who has any culinary skill," he said, stirring the contents of the pot he was tending. "Oh, I suppose Rumil can boil water well enough, and Haldir can-"

"Haldir can what?"

Both Orophin and Legolas turned towards the voice, which had come from the doorway into Orophin's modest home, which was located on one of the lower flets and very near the patrol's talans.

Haldir and Rumil entered one after the other, their arms laden with meal-stuffs.

Orophin left the pot as his brothers drew near. A broad grin spread over his face. He leaned close and pressed his cheek to Haldir's, then he did the same with Rumil. It was an intimate greeting - and Legolas wondered if it would be extended to include himself.

Orophin took the two sacks from Haldir's arms. "Haldir can bring the bread and the wine. How very typical of you, brother."

"I dare not bring anything other," Haldir replied. "You and Rumil remind me incessantly that I have no skill in such matters." A mischievous glint showed in his eye. "Although, it sounded to me as if Rumil is not held in such high esteem either."

Rumil set down the two bowls he had brought on a nearby table. "I can boil water well enough, and that is more than can be said for you, dear brother."

Haldir cuffed Rumil playfully then drew in a deep breath. "You've made my favorite, Orophin," he said with a gleam in his eye.

"You know that I take care of you, Haldir," Orophin replied. "You would starve without me and the charity of others."

"You will have Legolas thinking that I am utterly helpless!" Haldir protested, then he turned his attention to the newest member of his patrol. "Legolas, you look well. I take it then that Orophin has been helpful to you. Has he been a comfort or a hindrance?"

"Very helpful, and very much a comfort," Legolas replied. "I have been to the fitters, the armorers, met most of the patrol, and I've been well entertained. Lorien boasts of many treasures."

Haldir nodded his approval. "And what are your plans for the next two days?"

Legolas looked at Orophin, who wore a look of expectancy, as if he knew what were coming next. It was Orophin who replied, "Tomorrow, we go to get his long-bow. The armorers are still crafting it, but it should be ready tomorrow early. After that, we have no plans."

"Then you will spend the time with me," Haldir said, placing an arm gently on Legolas's back and guiding him to the low chairs near the glowing brazier on the far side of the room. "That will give me the opportunity to go over the way things are in the patrol before we return to duty."

Legolas felt a warm flush of pleasure flow through his body. As enjoyable as Orophin's company had been, the prospect of spending time with Haldir was the greater desire. "Very good," he said with a subdued grin.

Haldir sunk into one of the chairs, leaned his head back and closed his eyes. He looked perfectly at ease, Legolas noted. Perfectly at home; and why not? These were his brothers, clearly adoring, clearly bent on an enjoyable evening. And apparently, Haldir felt comfortable enough around Legolas to relax and take dinner with him. This gave Legolas encouragement.

"I take it you have been busy the past few days. I have not seen you at all," Legolas prompted with practiced innocence.

Haldir opened one eye. "I have been enjoying some much needed solitude," he grinned. "Have I neglected you?"

Color leapt into Legolas's complexion. "I didn't mean it that way."

"I did not take it 'that' way. I only wanted to know if you felt neglected," Haldir replied gently, opening both eyes now and leaning forward slightly.

Legolas stared at him, struck by the intensity of the gaze now turned towards him. But it was more than the gaze itself; there was something behind the warm pools of blue that regarded him steadily and with expectation. There was a mysterious depth, but there was also a welcome, an invitation-but an invitation to what, Legolas could not discern. He had never encountered such a thing before. At the same time that it was perplexing, it was titillating.

"Should I take your silence as a confirmation?" Haldir's voice snapped Legolas out of his musings.

"No, not at all. You placed me in very good hands, but I shall be glad to spend the next two days with you," he replied.

Haldir gave a small chuckle. "I wonder if you shall still be so glad to spend time with me after six weeks of living together."

"Haldir, you are going to frighten him," Rumil chastised lightheartedly, bringing over three glasses and a bottle of wine. He held out a glass to Legolas and spoke to him as he filled it. "You must not let him mislead you. He would make himself out to be a troll, when he is really more of a task master."

"In truth, I have more experience with trolls than with task masters," Legolas replied with a laugh.

"I shall try to be as troll-like as I possibly can, then," Haldir replied, accepting the glass proferred by Rumil.

There followed a bit of small talk, then dinner, which was preceded by a sort of short speech in which all three brothers took part but which was in more of the ancient language and therefore, unknown to Legolas. After the meal, surprisingly succulent for a simple family meal, the brothers taught Legolas a game called 'bob-stones', something of a dice game, which they all three regretted when luck decidedly smiled on Legolas more than any of them. Since they played for mere sport, Legolas claimed his winnings by asking for a song, hoping that Haldir would accommodate his request. But it was Rumil who was prevailed upon, and Legolas was not disappointed.

Rumil's voice was exquisite, far superior to Haldir's. Yet, as much as Legolas admired and enjoyed Rumil's talent, he was not as moved as he had been by Haldir's song at the fountain. What captivated him as Rumil sang was the expression of peace and fondness that had settled over Haldir's face. The song was one of many tales of Gil-Galad and was hardly a peaceful bit; yet Haldir looked as if the melody had soothed over every remnant of the daily toil.

"Wonderful," Legolas complimented when the song ended. "I have never heard it sung so beautifully."

"I am not even the best," Rumil replied. "But I appreciate your words."

"I can not imagine a finer voice," Legolas said.

It was Orophin who replied. "You have not heard Ardamil yet. Once you hear him, you will not have to imagine a finer voice. You will hear it yourself. There is none better."

"Ardamil? Truly? I would never have guessed."

"Haldir calls him the patrol's song bird," Rumil replied. "But you will give him quite a run. I recall your voice was very good also."

Haldir stood up. "You may all debate the finest voice once we are on patrol," he said lightly. "But right now, I am retiring. It has grown late."

The rest of them stood and moved towards the door. Haldir turned to Legolas. "You are still in the patrol's talans?" Legolas replied that he was, at which Haldir informed him that he would come by to get him after the morning meal.

Orophin offered to see Legolas back to the talans, but Legolas deferred, preferring to go on his own. Certain images were still fresh in his mind, and he desired to indulge those images in solitude. Yet, he had not gone far when he heard a voice call out his name.

"Prince Legolas!"

Legolas turned to see one of the elves that had been with him on the way down from Mirkwood. The elf's name was Nenstil.

"Nenstil," Legolas greeted him cheerfully. "It is good to see you again."

"And you, as well," Nenstil replied.

"But you must not call me 'prince'," Legolas told him.

Nenstil nodded a smile. "I heard that you are pulling duty with the Wide Patrol."

"Yes, it was Lord Celeborn's idea," Legolas replied. "And I must say, it seems a good one."

"Have you met Nikerym Haldir yet?" Nenstil asked.

"Yes."

"And how do you like him?"

"Very much."

"He is an excellent captain. He will be able to teach you a great deal."

Legolas gave a nod. "So I have heard. I have not had much experience with him yet, but I will be spending the next two days with him before the patrol goes back on duty."

"You will be happy, then," Nenstil said assuredly. "Haldir has a way of making his warriors feel very much loved." He paused and regarded Legolas with a mildly appraising aire. "And you will suit him well. Yes, your placement in the Wide Patrol must be highly agreeable to him."

Legolas found Nenstil's manner rather odd, but there was nothing unkind or caustic in his words, and so Legolas inclined his head graciously and replied, "It is highly agreeable to me, as well."

"I am sure it is. There are many who would envy your position," came the grinning reply. "Haldir is very particular about those whom he chooses to be members of his patrol. It is considered a great honor to be selected by him."

Nenstil was still speaking with ease and friendliness, but this last remark make Legolas wonder if, perhaps, Nenstil was speaking of himself when he referred to those who might envy Legolas's easy induction into the Wide Patrol. "He did not select me," Legolas stated, feeling somewhat embarrassed. "But I do not imagine he would question Lord Celeborn's decision. I can only hope that I bring no dishonor to either of them."

Nenstil's smile seemed to waver for an instant, but then it was back in full force. "Look at you. You could not possibly bring dishonor. In fact, it is more likely that you would bring honor to those who are not deserving of it."

Legolas stared at him. "What do you mean by that?"

"Nothing in particular. It is just a general observation. During our journey from Mirkwood, it did not escape my notice that you have a great many talents and a certain charisma. I am quite confident that you are admired wherever you go," Nenstil replied. "And therefore, others would be admired by association."

Legolas gave an uncomfortable laugh. "This is news, indeed. I have never thought of myself in those terms."

"Not to worry," Nenstil replied. "Haldir will ensure that you feel your own importance. You will be cherished as only Haldir can cherish." He gave a slight bow. "A good night to you, Prince Legolas."

Legolas watched him go.

---

Haldir was punctual. No sooner had Legolas finished the morning meal in the patrol's common mess than Haldir appeared in the doorway, dressed simply in Lorien woodland colors and without weapons. Several of the elves present in the mess greeted him and there was some conversation, which Legolas listened to with feigned interest. At last, Haldir determined that it was time to go, and Legolas accompanied him from the mess.

Legolas had been expecting to head directly for the armorers in order that he might check on his long-bow, but Haldir had other ideas.

"I think you should get to know the lay of the land," he said as he led the way towards the main gate. "I will take you beyond the borders, but only to the other side of the river. There are some key checkpoints with which you should be acquainted."

Legolas went along with him as they spent the greater part of the morning heading south through the woods, coming to the main launchings of the Celebrant. Here, they crossed in a punt to the east bank and took up horses. And all the while, Haldir pointed out various signs in their surroundings that only a tracker would notice. A bent blade of grass. An impression in soft ground. Indentations on the sides of moss-covered trees. He also noted landmarks and pathways, both on the ground and overhead. But what amazed Legolas most was Haldir's uncanny ability to feel the woods around him.

"You learn more from the mood of the trees and the talk of the birds than you do from any of the signs," he remarked as they went along the eastern shore of the Celebrant, where the sun cast a dappled mosaic on the grassy path beside the water, sheltered by trees that waved slightly in the morning breeze.

"And what is the mood?" Legolas asked.

"Everything is peaceful and in order," Haldir replied, then he turned a curious eye to Legolas. "Can you not feel that at all?"

"I can see that everything is peaceful," Legolas replied. "But I can't feel it."

"That comes as a surprise to me," Haldir said thoughtfully. "I always believed Mirkwood elves were very sensitive about such things - especially given the wicked things that have dwelt in your forests."

"I am willing to learn, if such a skill can be taught." Legolas tried not to sound to eager.

"It can be taught to a certain degree. But beyond a rudimentary level, it requires a natural predisposition to it in order to be effective," Haldir explained. "You will have much opportunity to learn and practice it during the patrol."

They came to a clearing adjacent to the river bank, and here they dismounted, Haldir announcing that it was time for the midday meal. He had brought a small satchel, and from this he carefully laid out the meager contents and allowed the horses to graze freely. Haldir said a few words in the ancient language and then invited Legolas to help himself to the meal.

They spoke very little as they ate; and when they were finished, Haldir lay back in the grass, his arms spread wide, his face turned sunward, his eyes closed, a contented smile curling the corners of his mouth. After a few seconds, he spoke softly. "Do you hear the horses?"

"The horses? They're over by the edge of the glade," Legolas replied.

"Yes . . . but do you hear them? They're talking to each other."

Legolas listened. He could hear quiet snorting sounds, but they meant nothing to him. "What are they saying?"

"They are going to play tricks on us." Haldir's smile had grown larger.

"Oh?"

"You will see. Melthea is very playful." A pause. "But not yet. There is still time for a bit of rest. The sun feels very good today."

Legolas looked at him for a long time. He felt no awkwardness at the duration of his gaze, for he had always been an admirer of beautiful things; and the more he saw of Haldir, the more he was convinced that he was beholding one of the finest creatures in Middle Earth - and it was not merely a question of physical beauty. Haldir seemed to possess a trademark peacefulness that surrounded him like a friendly, enveloping heat. There was something open and artless in his manner, and yet somehow, he managed to maintain a certain distance, which made him appear mysterious; and this, Legolas found to be very enticing. Still, Legolas felt that his fascination with Haldir was nothing unusual, so when Haldir opened his eyes to regard him lazily, Legolas did not look away.

"You should take advantage of the moment," Haldir said, his voice rolling languidly into the bright midday.

Legolas pondered this comment with a smile. A pleasant image entered his head of a wrestling match under the watching sun, as such encounters were common among Legolas and his brothers, wrestling both for fun and to establish the order of dominance among them. But he was forced to admit to himself that this was not likely what Haldir was proposing. "What do you mean?" he asked.

"The sun and the quiet. Why don't you lie back and relax?"

Normally, Legolas would have been concerned for safety, but this time, there was no thought at all in his head of dangers. Lorien was a safe haven, and even though he and Haldir were just beyond its borders, he felt perfectly secure. Having Haldir next to him increased his reassurance. He lay back, resting his hands behind his head.

Neither of them spoke for a long time. There was no need of words. The moment was very close to perfect. At last, Haldir sat up, filled his lungs and stretched. "And now for the contest."

Legolas sat up as well. "What contest is that?"

"Watch and you will see," Haldir replied, then added, "I must advise you that my dignity will be greatly tarnished in the next few minutes."

"And you will permit me to witness such a thing?" Legolas grinned.

"Unfortunately, I have no choice. Melthea will have her fun." He paused and a thoughtful joy came over his features. "But I don't mind. She loves me, and this is how she shows it." With that, he began walking leisurely across the glen in the direction of the horses. He had come within a few feet, his hand reaching out invitingly, when both animals trotted off in opposite directions. Haldir went after Melthea. He did not run or even show any sign of excitement or perturbation. He spoke more of the ancient language, calling after his errant mount. But Melthea tossed her proud head and continued to move away from him. After an impressive show of prancing and neighing, she circled round very close to Haldir, clearly tempting him to try and catch her. Closer and closer she came on every pass, until at last, Haldir sprang towards her, and missing, landed face-down in the grass. It would have been the demise of his dignity, as he had warned, but for the sound of his laughter, which rose from the grass and filled the glen with a child-like joy. He was on his feet again quickly, still laughing, and now his movements were more oriented towards pursuit. He chased after Melthea, bursting into mirth anew at each failed attempt to capture his quarry. Melthea would issue forth a long string of sounds that seemed to urge Haldir on and to which he replied with his own incomprehensible ancient replies.

Legolas looked on in amazement. It was like watching two children playing. He would never have been able to imagine Haldir so uninhibited-nearly wild . . . until now. He felt he could spectate such a display for hours on end. But just as this thought crossed his mind, Melthea passed a little too close to her tormented would-be rider, and Haldir, in one powerful, vaulting movement, leapt up onto her back with a cry of victory. In the next moment, he leaned forward and wrapped his arms around her neck, pressing his cheek against the coarse hair, fully lost in the simple happiness of the moment. It was an expression of love, after which Melthea dutifully bore him to where Legolas was standing.

"That was quite a spectacle," Legolas remarked.

"I told you she would leave my dignity in tatters," Haldir replied, sounding anything but tattered. "She teases me."

"You tease back," Legolas replied, and Haldir smiled broadly.

"I do," he agreed.

"That was some mounting maneuver," Legolas said. "If you had misjudged the distance, you might have been trampled."

Haldir shrugged carelessly. "I've never misjudged, and I've never been trampled. That wasn't even a difficult move. When we are out on patrol, I will take you to visit some of the towns of men. Their horses are saddled. Now, there is an opportunity to learn some very impressive techniques."

"I would be happy just to learn this one," Legolas said.

"I will teach you, but not just yet. Later, in safer environs, when a healer is present," Haldir replied, "Just in case of an accident."

"But you said it wasn't a difficult move," Legolas challenged.

"Comparatively speaking," Haldir countered. "There are much harder and more dangerous maneuvers, but even this one poses a challenge for beginners-" he fixed Legolas with an authoritative eye, "-which is what you are."

"And do you not think of your own safety?" Legolas asked.

Haldir's countenance softened. His answer surprised Legolas. "What good captain does?"

"I would think you no less a good captain if you looked out for your own protection," Legolas stated as he mounted his own horse, which had returned of his own accord.

Haldir's smile was almost paternal. "That is why I am the captain and you are not," he said gently.

Legolas arched an eyebrow. "What do you mean by that?"

"Only that a good captain need not look after himself; his warriors will look after and protect him," Haldir replied. "That is something you will learn."

"Do your warriors protect you?" Legolas asked, realizing how ridiculous this question was even as it dropped from his lips. He had seen how admired Haldir was among the members of the Wide Patrol. Orophin had even admitted that they protected him.

"Lest I sound too boastful, I will refrain from answering," Haldir replied, his voice light and pensive. "You would do better to ask them." Then, he could not help but add, "But I have been in many dangerous situations, and I am still here. I do not owe my survival to my own abilities."

Legolas was quiet for a moment. At length, he spoke in a serious voice. "But it IS due to your own abilities. For they would not protect you and feel a loyalty to you unless you inspired their trust and confidence."

Haldir gave a small laugh. "Are you joining ranks with my brothers and Ardamil and all the rest of them? It seems there is a conspiracy to make me appreciate myself far too much, and I am already the victim of an inflated pride."

"I detect no such unwarranted pride in you," Legolas replied, feeling that he had a princely right to speak on such matters. "On the contrary, you seem to hold yourself as being of no account at all."

Haldir looked baffled. "You are grossly mistaken, Legolas. When you have spent a significant amount of time with me, you will be in a position to form an opinion. And I dare say that it will be a fair revision from what you are saying now."

"Your brothers have known you all their lives, and many of your warriors have known you all YOUR life. My opinion of you is in close accord with theirs," Legolas persisted.

Haldir actually appeared stumped by this statement. At last, he said, almost mumbling, "Yes, well, none of them are a prince." He wheeled Melthea around, but Legolas followed.

"Am I supposed to have a different opinion of you because I am a prince?" Legolas asked.

"None of my warriors come from royal blood," Haldir replied. "My brothers and I are low born. There is nothing impressive about the members of the Wide Patrol except their skill and loyalty to each other, my loyalty to them and theirs to me. I want you to be a part of that while you're here, Legolas. I told you that I would not treat you like a prince, and I meant it. But you will understand if, somewhere in the back of my head, there is a constant quiet reminder that you ARE a prince, an honored visitor, and . . . from much higher bloodlines than any of us."

"Are you saying you don't think I can fit in?"

"I'm not saying that at all," Haldir replied, and he was unmistakably flustered. "I am only trying to tell you that . . . that I . . . I am not as . . . humble as you think. Or as humble as I try to be." He shook his head resolutely, as if the action put a firm end to the conversation. "But this is pointless talk. There is still much to show you. Let us continue along the river."

Legolas did not press any further. Indeed, he would not have known in which direction to pursue. Haldir, it appeared to Legolas, was every bit as enigmatic as Orophin had hinted. And, if anything, Legolas's curiosity was growing. He wondered what surprises were in store during his stint with the Wide Patrol.

He fell again. This was beyond humiliating; it was complete and utter mortification. Elves did not tire, he told himself, but nor were they this clumsy. And so, Legolas had to attribute his lack of coordination to something else other than fatigue; and looking up the hillside ahead of him, he found it no difficult task to pinpoint the cause of his embarrassment. Haldir was picking out foot- and handholds with ease, mounting ever higher up the steep incline, apparently with no more effort than as if he were strolling through the fields.

'But', Legolas convinced himself, 'Haldir is familiar with these paths. This is all well-known to him. How else could he set such a quick pace? Surely, there is no need for such a hurry!'

Behind him, Rumil spoke as if he had been reading Legolas's thoughts. "We told you he was a task-master."

Legolas grunted something incomprehensible, before answering in a more decipherable voice, "We have been moving for five days without sleep and scarcely a moment to eat. And I am absolutely certain that, wherever we are going, he has picked the most difficult path. Rivers, marshes, mile after mile of brambles and clinging weed, and now this! He saves this climb for the end and makes me look like a feeble elfling!"

Rumil chuckled softly. "Certainly not feeble. But all the energy you just put into that speech could be better used to get you up the hillside."

"I will make it, if for no other reason than to prove to him that I can. What a pace he sets!" Legolas groused.

"It is a test of sorts, but not just for you," Rumil said. "He wants to make sure all of us can carry our weight. Have you ever done such a forced hike before in Mirkwood?"

Legolas had to admit that he had not, adding petulantly, "But I am no slouch."

Rumil's voice still the ring of humor in it. "I am quite confident that Haldir does not consider you to be a slouch."

Several minutes of continued climbing passed, then Legolas asked, "Doesn't this weary you?"

"Not at all," Rumil replied. "But I have been doing this for many centuries. Don't forget, Legolas, that we are all very highly trained and conditioned. You shouldn't expect to be able to match us stride for stride."

That did it. Legolas knew a challenge when he heard one, even when the challenge was kindly meant. Very well, then . . . if Haldir was going to push him, and if the rest of the patrol was going to gleefully be party to it, then Legolas would show them what he was made of.

The patrol reached the top of the hill, and here there stood a circle of towering, shapeless boulders. Haldir called a rest as he moved to the northern rim of the hilltop and surveyed the land falling away before him. Legolas watched him but did not follow. Instead, he slid from his shoulders the light-weight pack that all members of the Wide Patrol carried, and sat down with his back against one of the boulders. Mythis sat down beside him.

"This is beautiful country," Mythis remarked. "I always enjoy when the patrol comes to this area. It's so wild and unpredictable."

"Does the patrol come here often?" Legolas asked.

"Fairly often," Mythis replied. "Haldir likes to come here. Some of the most ancient ruins in Middle Earth are in this area, and that attracts Haldir." He paused, and his look became dour. "But there have been reports of bands of evil things traversing these hills. We have never encountered any, but the Lord and Lady are vigilant and have directed us to keep an eye on the area."

"What sorts of evil things?" Legolas asked.

"Orcs, dark men, cloaked riders, and other things given to less description," Mythis replied.

"Will Haldir make camp in such a place?"

"He feels safe here. After all, from the top of this hill, we can survey the surrounding land for miles, as long as the weather is clear. I predict he will tell us shortly that we will pass the night here," Mythis said, rummaging through his own pack and withdrawing a vial of clear liquid- alumivira-from which he permitted himself a small sip. He held out the vial to Legolas. "Will you have some?"

Legolas accepted. "I had brought a bottle of Mirkwood's finest nectar as a gift to the Lord and Lady, and still it sits in Orophin's talan with the rest of the contents of my pack. For a full two weeks I reminded myself daily to retrieve the pack, and daily did I forget. I am not myself since coming here." It sounded like a half-hearted complaint, and so Mythis decided to have some fun with it.

"And why aren't you yourself?" he asked.

"I hardly know," Legolas replied with exasperation. "Perhaps it is because everything is so new to me. Perhaps it is because the joy I sense here is unlike anything I've ever felt before. I feel as if I am wandering around in wide-eyed wonder, like a gaping little thing who has never experienced the world before."

"Have you been out into the world?" Mythis asked curiously.

Legolas blushed slightly, scarcely noticeable against the red cheeks the prolonged hike had produced. "I have not."

"Then it may be that you are, in fact, reacting simply as you say, like one who has never experienced the world. And there is nothing wrong with that-"

"But that shouldn't make me awkward and forgetful," Legolas protested.

Mythis shrugged as he put the alumivira back into his pack. "Then it must be something else. You will have to think about it." His gaze moved to where Haldir was still standing on the far side of the stone circle, now in conversation with Ardamil. "In the meantime, just enjoy yourself. You've got the best teacher in all of Lorien at your disposal. Make good use of him."

Legolas felt a surge of inward laughter. Mythis was suggesting that he make use of the very cause of his distraction. Somehow, Legolas doubted that this would solve his problem. In fact, as the evening wore on, he was beginning to wonder if he wanted to be cured of his dilemma.

The patrol shared a meal in the fading twilight, and this was followed by singing and a very funny story from an elf named Pelvil about his first day in the Wide Patrol, in which he related how he had accidentally knocked Haldir out of a talan while sparring with another member of the patrol. Not far below had been another talan, where the preparations for a formal dinner had been underway. Haldir had landed in the midst of the culinary delights; and although he was uninjured, he had been covered in food, and his pride had taken a minor blow. Pelvil had ended up pulling extra duty in the kitchens for the patrol's entire time off and its week in garrison.

"And it was honestly a mistake!" Pelvil laughed. "I wasn't trying to push him off the talan! It was amazing though-running to the edge, I was terrified that he had been seriously injured, and there he was, lying in the middle of all that food, the kitchen maids scolding him!"

Haldir sat close to the fire, listening to the story, eyes bright with humor. At its conclusion, he stood up and crossed over to where Pelvil sat laughing and watching his captain's approach.

"As I recall, you had better success against me than against your opponent," Haldir challenged. "How do you feel about taking me on now?"

"I have no doubt that you would best me, Nikerym," Pelvil replied. "You have defeated me every time."

"This might be your chance," Haldir said suggestively.

"Are you insisting, Nikerym?" Pelvil asked, and although his words were meant to sound like protest, there was an anticipatory gleam in his eye.

"I am insisting," Haldir replied. He pulled off his tunic. "Come, take your chance. If you are going to tell that story, you must be prepared to pay for it."

Pelvil got to his feet and began to undress. When both elves were bare from the waist up, Haldir began to circle. "Let's see how much you've improved."

Legolas watched them circling each other in the firelight. He could not help but admire Haldir's body, solid and perfectly shaped, well-muscled and powerful. It was the body of maturity, as opposed to Legolas's own slighter, more sinewly build - the body of a youth. Pelvil was built more like Legolas, and just looking at the two of them opposed in the dancing light, it was clear to see that the advantage was on Haldir's side.

When the two elves closed with one another, Legolas found himself moving to get into a better viewing position. Haldir had Pelvil on the ground in an instant with the latter's arms leveraged behind him in Haldir's uncompromising grasp.

"You're not even trying!" Haldir accused, grinning wickedly. "Shall I make you resist?"

"No, no!" Pelvil was actually laughing, and he began to struggle with renewed vigor. He managed to roll onto his side, dislodging Haldir, although to Legolas's eyes, it appeared as if Haldir had permitted him the move.

It was exhilarating to watch them, limbs entwined in a contest of strength, bodies pressed close and rolling across the ground as each tried to claim supremacy. The sight of Haldir's fingers firmly gripping Pelvil's dust- and sweat-covered flesh filled Legolas's head with pleasant thoughts of belonging and acceptance. It was almost as if Haldir were affirming Pelvil's status as one of his own, even at the same time as they struggled against each other. And then it was over. Haldir had Pelvil pinned on his back, and there was no chance of his getting loose. Then Haldir did something that Legolas was not expecting. He closed his eyes and placed a tender kiss on Pelvil's forehead.

"My story-teller," he said in a soft voice. "Not today, but you're getting closer."

Something about this little exchange drove straight for Legolas's heart. His eyes darted to the faces around him to see if any of his companions betrayed any kind of reaction to the scene, but there was nothing in their gazes other than affection and humor. He then watched as Haldir got to his feet, helped Pelvil up, and brushed the vanquished elf's silver hair back from his face. There was incredible warmth in Haldir's eyes, which reflected back to him from Pelvil's happy countenance. After several seconds, Haldir turned his attention to the rest of the patrol.

"Everyone to sleep," he ordered. "Luredan, Henschel, you have first watch."

As the rest of the patrol shook out their sleeping rolls and took up places around the fire, Legolas watched Haldir, and if truth be told, he was half-expecting to see him disappear into the darkness with Pelvil. Legolas felt ashamed at the thought, but he could not stop it from pressing forward into his awareness. His expectation was only partially met, though, for Haldir did step outside the ring of stones and beyond sight. But Pelvil remained within, making a place for himself next to Ardamil and close to the fire.

Legolas did not prepare for sleep. Instead, he slipped outside the stone circle and followed its outer rim around to the far side where he had seen Haldir go into the dark. He moved a few paces into the wood before hearing Haldir's voice, chanting melodiously, once again in the ancient tongue. He moved as quietly as he could, coming at last to a small clearing, only a few yards across, and here under the moonlight, he came upon Haldir, still only half-dressed, down on one knee, his head bowed.

The rhythm of the chanting, the sound of the words, Haldir's mesmerizing voice: all of it conspired to hold Legolas in place. He did not even realize that the chanting had stopped until he found Haldir standing in front of him, a neutral expression on his face.

"Is there something I can do for you, Legolas?" he asked kindly.

Legolas stammered through the beginnings of some excuse, but at last decided the truth was easier. "I'm sorry. I was eavesdropping."

"And what did you hear?"

"It sounded like . . . a prayer or something."

Haldir nodded. "It was a prayer of thanks."

"It was very beautiful."

"You should have joined me."

"I was happy just to listen, "Legolas replied. "That was Primordial Elvish again, wasn't it?"

"You recognized it?"

Legolas nodded. "It's so lyrical, so . . . transcendent. I'm surprised I have never heard it spoken before."

Haldir began walking, taking a circuitous route back towards the camp. "It is only used for ceremonial purposes now . . . and even then, rarely."

"How did you learn it?"

"My uncle taught me and my brothers. Orophin and Rumil have a rudimentary knowledge of it, enough to follow the rituals and say a few basic prayers, but not enough to carry on a conversation," Haldir replied.

"Can you carry on a conversation?"

"I'm very fluent." A sad pause. "But there are not many with whom I can converse."

"I should very much like to learn, if you be willing to teach."

Haldir did not stop walking as he cast a considering eye at Legolas. "I am willing, if your desire be genuine and fervent."

"It is, I assure you."

There was a brief pause, then Haldir nodded once. "We can begin tomorrow after the evening meal then, if you like. I have none of the scrolls or books, of course; but that will be little hindrance."

They walked on, Legolas noticed, in a wide circle around the outside of the stone ring. Haldir spoke again. "I have not been able to spend much time with you since the patrol set out. How are you getting on?"

"It has been arduous," Legolas replied honestly.

"Really?" Haldir sounded genuinely surprised.

"But nothing I can not manage," Legolas added quickly. "I was not expecting so long a journey in our first few days out."

"I only stopped here for the night because I enjoy this place. By tomorrow evening, we will have reached our patrol radius," Haldir replied. "Then, there will be a respite from all the marching."

"And what then?"

"The patrol will split into four groups and cover different areas for four or five days, gathering information on happenings in the area, scouting about for anything that seems new or amiss. Then we will regroup and move onto the next area and do the same," Haldir replied. "I will take you in my group, the first couple times at least."

Legolas smiled in the darkness. "I can hardly wait."

---

The next day's journey was carried out in much the same manner as in previous days. They came out of the mountainous country into a wide stretch of lowlands dotted with the villages of men. These villages, Haldir informed Legolas, were little more than watering holes along the main and lesser roads criss-crossing the region; but they were excellent places to pick up little bits of intelligence, and they offered many glimpses into the lives of men, and this, Haldir had to admit, was an object of unceasing fascination for him. For although Haldir cherished the safety and purity of life in Lorien, he was very fond of experience, one of the facets of his character that made him such an excellent patroller. It could not be said that he approved of all the things he found in the world of men, but he was well able to separate his observation of various evils from the action of embracing those evils.

And those evils were enumerated to Legolas in a fair amount of detail as Haldir led the way down into a broad, shallow valley that would mark the end of the patrol's common travel. After a few cautionary remarks and a determining of the regrouping time and location, the patrol broke into four pre-established groups. With Haldir and Legolas went Mythis and four other elves whom Legolas had met only briefly: Ascalonn, the patrol's second healer; Lostilsil, an odd combination of gentle boldness; Dolenrod, lighthearted and quickwitted; and Enthamis, the newest member of the patrol. Their destination was a town named Wayfare, and Haldir had quite a bit to say about it.

"It is not the roughest town I have been in, but nor can it be called safe. Many of the highway bandits take refuge here, and the establishments cater to them. They are not the sorts of men with whom I would wish to keep company, but they often have much to tell about the comings and goings on the highways," he explained as his group picked their way across the gorse-covered field south of the town.

"And they give their information freely?" Legolas asked, sounding doubtful.

"Several pints of drink loosens their tongues," Dolenrod replied. "Half the time it is impossible to get them to stop talking."

"The talking is not so bad," Mythis said. "They have many habits that are much worse. I hate coming to this town, especially after the beauty of the hills."

"What other habits do they have that are so awful?" This from Legolas.

"They are leering, groping creatures," Mythis answered, his voice rife with disgust. "Every time I come here, I feel like they are following my every movement and thinking indecent thoughts."

"They are," Lostilsil affirmed. "Do not forget-this was where Maynfeln was attacked. It is dangerous to let your guard down for even a moment."

"Lostilsil is right," Haldir said. "There should be no call for any of us to be found alone."

"Attacked? What do you mean, attacked? By whom?" Legolas asked.

It was Lostilsil who replied. "Some of the men outside one of the taverns - they attacked him out of lust."

"The men in these parts seem to find male Elvish beauty much to their liking," Dolenrod added.

"If it were not for Ardamil and Desmone, those men might have taken Maynfeln," Lostilsil continued. "They showed up just in time, and their rage was nothing the attackers wanted to confront."

"Was Maynfeln injured?" Legolas asked.

"Only a few bruises," Lostilsil replied. "As I said, luckily, part of the patrol showed up in time to stop them."

"All of which should call our attention to the exercise of caution," Haldir interjected, his voice strong and decisive. "We can not do our job of reconnaissance if we are timid like rabbits. But we must be vigilant when in the company of wickedness. No one is to go about alone. No one is to court confrontation. We are here to collect information; nothing more."

There was a general acknowledgement of this speech, and then the rest of the approach to Wayfare was accomplished in silence.

---

They procured lodgings in a barn on the outskirts of the town, Haldir feeling that it was safer to lodge with animals than the humans who patronized the various inns. Then, together, the elves walked towards the village center. Along the way, at Haldir's bidding, Lostilsil and Mythis broke off, then Ascalonn & Dolenrod, leaving Haldir, Enthamis, and Legolas alone to come at last to The Wayfarer's Hide, a derelict-in-appearance tavern that, from the sound of things, was anything but deserted inside.

Before entering, Haldir turned to the other two elves and reminded them, "We are here to gather information. All that is required of the two of you is that you listen and observe. Elves are not a common sight in this town. It has been more than six months since the patrol was last here. Enthamis, I am sure you have not forgotten the dangers." His gaze moved to Legolas. "Don't do anything provocative."

They left the street and entered the tavern. It was a dim place, dank with the smell of alcohol, as if the very floor and walls breathed the stuff. Torches smoked in the corners, candles burned on the tables, and lanterns lung from the ceiling. From one end to the other, the main room was filled with the sweating, stinking bodies of men and the painted bodies of the women that entertained them. There was much going on: drinking, laughing, singing, gaming. The arrival of the three elves occasioned only a brief lull in the intensity of the evening's pleasures as most eyes regarded the strangers with dull interest. They certainly stood out among the tavern's patrons, but Haldir was so casual, so confident that very soon he and his companions were seated at a table and attentions had shifted back to their original occupations.

Haldir ordered three mugs of ale, with the warning that, "You must not drink very much of it. It is foul stuff, but it looks better to have it before you than to simply be seen watching."

Legolas tasted the mug's contents. "I find it rather agreeable," he announced.

"That is your Mirkwood palate," Enthamis poked.

They talked quietly among themselves, but always they were listening for any interesting tidbit, any worthwhile piece of news. At length, Haldir motioned them close, and they leaned across the table to listen to him.

"I am going into the dark rooms," he said, his eyes darting towards a door in the back of the tavern, covered by a heavy curtain. Throughout the night, a steady stream of men and women had been seen going through the doorway. From their fulfilled appearance upon coming out from the 'dark rooms', it was clear what was being carried on inside. "You are both to stay here at this table until I come back. I do not want to have to go searching for either one of you."

Haldir saw the expression of surprise-near horror, in fact-that appeared on Legolas's face, and he knew that the Greenleaf was contemplating Haldir's participation in the activities that went on in the dark rooms. "The humans behind those curtains are the best sources of information," Haldir said glibly. "And an elf doesn't have to do much to gain that information." He did not linger long enough to see that his comment had done nothing to ease the concern and disbelief. Instead, he made directly for the curtain and disappeared behind it, leaving Legolas too stunned to speak for several long seconds.

But it was Enthamis who spoke first. "It is not possible that he would subject himself to such attentions simply to extract some little piece of news. That would contradict everything I know about him." His words betrayed the fact that he was not completely clear on what Haldir was doing behind the curtain.

Legolas shook his head, dumbfounded. "It would be . . . shocking," he admitted.

The two of them sat there, pondering. As the minutes passed without either of them saying anything, Legolas began to feel a strange sense of anxiety. What was Haldir back there? What information could he possibly be gathering, and what was he doing to get it? His mind was rapidly filling with ghastly images of Haldir entwined in the sordid arms of those who awaited in the darkness, giving their pleasures to any and all comers, so long as there was a bit of pay to be had in the deal.

He fought his anxiousness as long as he could, but after nearly an hour, he could bear it no longer. He got abruptly to his feet. "We should go back there. He may in trouble," he stated forcefully, although possible 'trouble' played no real part in his concerns.

But Enthamis was not moved. "No, that is not a good idea," he disagreed. "The captain can take care of himself."

"But it's been an hour," Legolas persisted. "No one else has stayed back there that long. Any news he was trying to get, he should have gotten by now. There's no reason for him to be back there so long."

"He may be working on more than one-" Enthamis began, but Legolas cut him off with a mournful groan that almost sounded as if the Prince of Mirkwood had been wounded.

"Say no more!" Legolas cried. "We must go back there and get him!"

Enthamis also now got to his feet, just as a heavy hand fell upon Legolas's shoulder. A throaty voice spoke in slurred syllables. "Why all the commotion?"

Legolas turned to see a broad, red-faced man with yellowing eyes and dripping forehead regarding him with an expression of drunken interest. Nearby, several more men had turned their attention in the elves' direction.

"It is a matter of private business," Legolas replied, stepping out from under the man's hand.

"You're not making it very private," came the response. "Looks like you're distressed. Maybe I can do something to help." He sucked on his lower lip and his eyes slid down the length of Legolas's body.

Enthamis drew back his cloak to reveal the sword at his side in an obvious gesture of intimidation. "Thank you for your offer, but we require no assistance."

A second man, large and feral in appearance, approached from the scattered onlookers. "Where's your leader?"

Enthamis moved to stand in between Legolas and the two men. "He is not far."

"You're right about that," the feral man sneered. "I think I saw him go into the back room, didn't I? I'm sure he's engaged in his own business. And if he's enjoying himself, why shouldn't you pretty things enjoy yourselves?"

Enthamis's right hand went to his sword hilt. "We are perfectly content in each other's company. Depart from us, now, for we wish no trouble."

"We wish no trouble, either," the first man replied. He took a step back, coaxing his companion to retreat with him, until they faded into the crowd.

Enthamis and Legolas sat back down.

"Do not do anything to draw any further attention to us," Enthamis warned quietly.

"But what about Haldir?" Legolas demanded, although he kept his voice low. "I don't like what that man said . . . I'm afraid something may have happened to him."

"We will wait a few more minutes. If he does not come out, we will both go back there to look for him," Enthamis replied. "But in the meantime, we can not afford to get into a scrape."

Legolas accepted this grudgingly. He found himself looking every few seconds at the curtain, hoping to see Haldir emerge. But while patron after patron came through the opening, Haldir was not among them.

"Enthamis-" he began, about to insist that they had waited long enough. But at that moment, there came the sound of a great excitement from the street. Both Legolas and Enthamis turned their attention towards the doorway, through which many of the tavern's occupants were now pouring out into the street to see what was happening.

Legolas heard a low voice at his ear. "Your friend is out there, and he's in trouble." Legolas turned to see one of the tavern's harlots walking away. It was she who had spoken.

Without a word to Enthamis, Legolas rushed towards the door, pushing through the mass of reeking bodies. In the center of the dirt road, he could see a tight knot of at least a dozen men, moving in agitation and excitement.

Back inside the tavern, Enthamis stood in confusion for a moment. He called after Legolas but to no avail. Then he caught sight of the woman who had whispered into Legolas's ear. She was falling into the arms of a man at the bar and laughing, then she and the man moved towards the door, intent on viewing whatever it was going on in the street.

Enthamis did not go outside. Instead, he went to the curtain, pushed it aside, and went into the dark rooms.

Outside, Legolas headed for the men in the road. He was almost upon them, when the circle opened up to reveal the two men who had confronted him and Enthamis inside the Wayfarer's Hide. Haldir was not among the group, and as Legolas cast a shocked glance back over his shoulder, he saw that he was now surrounded by a maliciously anxious cordon of men. His arm flashed up to snatch an arrow from his quiver, and he managed to take down three of the men, before he was overcome by their numbers. He was passed roughly from man to man, their hands grasping and reaching, until he found himself in the steely grip of the feral man.

"Here's a bit o' fun, then!" the man laughed. "Elf warriors are prettier than our own maids!" His companions joined in the laughter. "You all can take your turns after me!"

Legolas twisted violently, but his struggles only fueled his captor's lurid excitement. The man was trying to force him to his knees, and he was succeeding.

"Enthamis!!" Legolas shouted. "Enthamis!!"

But it was not Enthamis's voice that answered.

"Release him!"

Legolas looked up and spotted Haldir through the cluster of bodies around him. The Captain of the Wide Patrol was standing in the center of the road, his bow unslung, an arrow in position. The power of his voice rose above the commotion, drawing everyone's attention. And while his presence made some of the assaulters quail, others were less squeamish.

"Why don't you come and get him, Elf?" the feral man replied, twisting around and holding Legolas in front of him.

"Release him or I will kill you," Haldir said with impeccable calm, but there was no doubting the seriousness in his voice.

"Then kill me! But be careful not to hit him!" the man laughed. He had barely finished his sentence when an arrow struck him in the shoulder. He roared with pain and rage, his hold on Legolas broken. Legolas dove away from him as Haldir let fly with another arrow, this time catching the man in the other shoulder.

Legolas rolled to safety at the edge of the road, his head coming up just in time to see a horseman approaching Haldir from behind, sword raised.

"Behind you!!" he cried out, scrabbling to his feet.

Haldir turned but instead of getting out the way, he stood his ground as the horse drew near. Legolas's voice erupted in a scream as the animal bore down upon Haldir, but then he found himself staring in awe as Haldir suddenly swung in front of the animal and up onto its back, knocking the rider from the saddle in the same maneuver. Legolas was still looking on in shock as Haldir plowed through the rest of the attackers, riding them down and scattering them into the darkness, just as Enthamil arrived with Ascalonn and Dolenrod, all three of whom had their bows ready. Within seconds, the crowd had dispersed, deciding that all the tales of the sorcery and trickery that surrounded elves were true, and that to confront even one was to court disaster.

Haldir slid from the saddle and approached Legolas directly. "Are you alright?" he asked, taking gentle hold of Legolas's arms and eyeing him closely.

"Yes," Legolas replied quietly. "Just a little shaken."

"How did this happen?" Haldir asked as Enthamis, Ascalonn and Dolenrod joined them.

"There was a ruckus out in the road, and one of the women said you were in trouble-" Legolas began, but he stopped when he saw the look in Haldir's eyes. It was a frightful expression.

"I told you to stay in the tavern, at the table."

"I know that, but I couldn't just sit still when I thought you might be in need of help," Legolas replied.

"And was I in need of help?" Haldir's voice seethed with quiet rage.

Legolas blanched. "No. It was a trick."

"A trick to lure you outside," Haldir expounded, and Legolas shrunk slightly away from the look of anger that accompanied the voice. "Did you listen to nothing that I said when we approached this village? Did you think we were all speaking warnings for our own benefit? We have experience here! We do not talk to amuse ourselves or to have you ignore our words."

Ascalonn put an arm around Legolas's shoulders in a gesture of comfort and with the hope of deflecting some of Haldir's ire, but he did not speak.

"I thought I was doing the right thing," Legolas insisted.

Haldir turned sharply to Enthamis. "Why did you not stop him?"

"I am sorry, Nikerym. I thought only to find you," Enthamis replied, looking Haldir in the eye.

Haldir grunted something unintelligible, then spoke more clearly. "Well, find me you did. I suppose that is something. And you did well in finding Ascalonn and Dolenrod. Come, we are going back to the farm. The night's work is over. Dolenrod, go fetch Mythis and Lostilsil."

"Yes, Nikerym," Dolenrod replied. He winked encouragingly at Legolas as he left.

Haldir led the way back towards the outskirts of the town. Ascalonn followed, then Legolas beside Enthamis.

"I am sorry I got you into trouble," Legolas whispered.

Enthamis grinned in the moonlight. "Don't be sorry. Just be careful. Even if you get out of a dangerous situation, you still have Haldir to contend with."

"As I noticed," Legolas replied. "Will he ignore me now?"

"Hardly." Enthamis almost laughed. "He will wait until his anger cools, then he will torment you relentlessly until you have decided that you will never again do anything so foolish as to disobey even the slightest of his wishes."

Legolas liked the challenging sound of Enthamis's words. "Is that so?"

"It is," Enthamis replied with certitude.

"Are you speaking from experience?"

"I am. Even though I am still fairly new to the patrol, I have had my share of dressing-downs over things I should not have done." He leaned close and lowered his voice even more. "But the others tell me that such is Haldir's way, that he makes such a fuss only because each individual warrior is important to him. It is almost a mark of affection."

Legolas's eyes narrowed with interest. "Indeed? I am not quite sure I believe that, so I will have to take your word for it."

---

The barn was comfortable. Haldir had known it would be. He detested sleeping in the travelers' inns - the cramped rooms, the infested mattresses, the abiding smell of urine, the incessant noise of other travelers. He much preferred the sweet smell of straw, the quiet of the barnyard, and the much greater safety that removed lodgings afforded.

He lay now deep in the warmth of the piled hay with his sleeping roll behind his head, absorbed in thought as the rest of his small patrol tended to their weapons in the glow of the lanterns or engaged in quiet conversations of their own. He was not surprised to find that this thoughts centered on the events of the evening, and particularly on Legolas. There was definitely an impetuous edge to the Prince of Mirkwood, and that could prove dangerous if left uncorrected. Only how was Haldir to correct a prince without ruffling the feathers of diplomacy? It seemed clear to Haldir that while Legolas was kind and fun-loving and eager-to-please, he was also pampered and used to doing things his own way, and those ways apparently had never been questioned. His charm and beauty had made his actions acceptable-even the most reckless and irresponsible of those actions. Haldir could sense it even within the patrol: Legolas had only to smile, utter a few words of contrition, and his wrongs would be reshaped into inexperience, mistakes, or doing what he thought was right. Why, even Haldir could feel himself being worked upon! This last fact worried him more than anything else, for Haldir liked to consider himself above such superficial attractions as a quick wit and a pleasing face. Still, he could not deny that he found Legolas to be a likeable and entertaining elf, and he knew that he had been assigned this task because his Lord thought highly of him and trusted him to look after Legolas, certainly with the expectation that a positive report would be sent back to Mirkwood on the hospitality of the Lorien elves, not to mention their warrior prowess. And so, although Haldir had not chosen Legolas to be in his patrol, in the patrol he was; and Haldir was determined to appreciate his presence at the same time as molding him into an elf worthy of being in the Wide Patrol.

A movement in the corner of his eye caught his attention, and he turned his head to see Legolas standing next to him.

"You said you would teach me Primordial Elvish after the evening meal," Legolas said. "We got a little sidetracked, so I was wondering if you would teach me now."

'So nonchalant,' Haldir observed inwardly, but aloud, he replied with a simple, "Certainly." He sat up as Legolas sat down.

"The first thing I shall teach you is 'Enyeren'," Haldir began.

"Enyeren," Legolas repeated , eyes bright with curiosity. "What does it mean?"

"It means, 'I'm sorry'," Haldir said smoothly.

Legolas's curiosity softened into an expression of forgiveness. "You don't need to apologize, Haldir. You were angry, and justifiably so."

Haldir stared at Legolas in dumbfounded silence for a moment. Legolas had completely missed his meaning. It was amazing that Legolas could even imagine that Haldir was apologizing for something that was so clearly Legolas's own fault.

"I was thinking you might have much occasion to use the phrase," Haldir said evenly. "But perhaps I was wrong. I now think that it would be the last thing to come to your mind."

Legolas mulled over these words. Haldir's face was placid and the words were spoken without malice, but Legolas discerned that a lesson was in the making. "What makes you say that?"

"Probably because of the fact that I have yet to hear you say it," Haldir replied.

"I did what I thought was right," Legolas protested.

"We all are guilty of doing what we think is right, even after we have been instructed otherwise," Haldir countered. "You thought you knew better than those with more experience."

"Someone told me you were in trouble. What should I have done?" Legolas's tone was one of contained defiance.

"You should have deferred to Enthamis's judgment," Haldir replied. "He knows better than you how to handle such a situation-"

"He is not much older than I am, and he is only a recent addition to the patrol," Legolas interrupted.

"Recent being measured in years, Legolas," Haldir stated emphatically. "He is more experienced than you are, and this evening's events bear that fact out. He went to see if he could find me instead of rushing out into trouble. He knows me well enough to know that it is extremely unlikely that I would be caught out by a crowd of drunken men."

Legolas was still defiant. "But I don't know you that well, so I did-"

"That is precisely the point. You don't know me that well, and so you acted without consideration. I concede that your actions might have been appropriate for a new patrol member who found himself without the benefit of another with more experience; but that was not the case tonight," Haldir chastised. "You can not always lean on your own understanding. There are times when the only sensible course of action is to defer to someone else's judgment."

This was an argument Legolas knew he was not going to win, and in truth, he did not want to win if it meant angering Haldir, because there were still things on Legolas's mind that he intended to pursue, so it would be senseless to aggravate the one elf capable of answering those questions. "Enyeren," he said.

"You are forgiven." Haldir's words were spoken with sincerity, and a mild smile broke over his face. "I have no plan as to how to teach the language to someone. You are the first to ever ask me, other than the odd query from my brothers every now and then. But I will start with something I think you might enjoy." He then recited several lines, slowly and rhythmically. As he spoke, he looked Legolas straight in the eye, seeing the flicker of the lanterns reflected there. When he had finished, he asked, "Did any of the words sound similar to words you know?"

Legolas had to answer truthfully that he heard no similarity.

"Listen more closely." This time Haldir sang the words, and Legolas recognized the melody. Suddenly, the words had a familiar sound-so much so that Legolas was stunned that he had not noticed it before.

"Anhumat!" Legolas cried out in pleasure. "It is the song of Anhumat!"

"Precisely. The very one you sang that night at the fountain. Listen again, then try to sing it with me," Haldir instructed.

Opposite them, Ascalonn and Mythis looked on unobtrusively. A knowing smile passed between the two of them as they noted Legolas's enthusiasm at Haldir's instruction and Haldir's gentle tutelage-far removed from the scolding he had delivered upon his language student only moments earlier. This was their captain at his finest; he had made his point in correcting Legolas's behavior, and now he was assuring not only Legolas, but everyone else, that the moment was over and that things were as they should be.

Haldir busily explained the meanings of words, various conjugations, and sentence structure; and Legolas drank in every word, never taking his eyes from the face of his tutor. Haldir noticed this fixed attention, and he was pleased by it, until his conscience informed him that his pleasure was nothing other than his pride being fueled.

It was early in the morning when Haldir ended the session, stating that at least a little bit of sleep was required. The rest of the patrol had already turned in for the night, except Enthamis, who had the watch.

Legolas made a place for himself near Haldir, who had already wrapped his cloak about him and settled deep into the straw. And although Legolas agreed that sleep was a good idea, he simply was not interested in it. "Haldir?" he asked.

"Yes."

"Did you find out anything when you went into the dark rooms?" Legolas's voice was almost timid.

"A few things," came the casual reply.

"Anything of consequence?"

"Perhaps. It is never easy to tell until the information has been verified," Haldir answered, sounding completely disinterested.

But Legolas was not ready to give up. His mind would not disengage from conjecture over what had happened earlier that night when Haldir had passed into the dark rooms. He had been suppressing his ever-increasing desire to know the truth of Haldir's dealings ever since returning to the barn. Now, he was ready to probe for some revelation.

"I suppose you have regular contacts here that provide you with information," he prompted.

"I wouldn't call them contacts as such," Haldir replied. "They are used to seeing me on occasion, and things come up in our conversation that may be useful. They have no idea that I am reconnoitering, nor would they care even if they did know."

"I imagine they must be very willing to talk to you," Legolas continued. "And in the dark rooms . . . well, I think there must be a lot of loose tongues behind that curtain."

"Some are looser than others, but as I said earlier, it doesn't take much to get any of them to talk," Haldir replied. "It is one of my more subtle skills."

Legolas felt a surge of disgust and disappointment course painfully through his body. The thought of such a 'subtle' skill and its less-than-honorable uses being thrown away on beings who could not even begin to appreciate its giver distressed Legolas in a way he could not begin to fathom. The idea that Haldir would abase his own self, his worth, and his dignity by trading his body for information . . .

The thought was unbearable. But Haldir's next words were enough to drive Legolas to retreat.

"You will learn how to do it, as well."

Legolas's innards twisted into knots. "It is unlikely," he replied, his voice uncharacteristically cold. He rolled onto his side, away from Haldir. "Good night."

---

Haldir led his elves out of Wayfare the following morning. There were two more towns on their route before they were to meet up with the rest of patrol. They did not travel along the roads, Haldir being wary of highwaymen and other more sinister eyes. Instead, they kept to trails that ran along the edges of woods, beneath the eastern shadows of the southern reaches of the Misty Mountains.

The morning's pace was leisurely, although the sky was growing dark and heavy with cloud. By early afternoon, thunder could be heard bounding over the plains to meet the foothills, and the smell of rain was in the air. At this point, Haldir quickened the pace. There was a series of caves less than a league away, and it was still possible that their cover might be reached before the rains began to fall.

Haldir trotted along at the front of the group, following a faint trail just inside the wood's edge. Above and around him were the sounds of the wood; to his right, the sounds of the open fields. But from both quarters came tittering expressions of excitement and laughter from the wild creatures, urging the band of elves to make haste, for a storm of considerable anger was coming. Haldir had the impression that the creatures were wagering amongst themselves as to whether or not the elves would make it in time.

Ahead of him, a brightly plumed hebeke flitted from tree to tree, like a woodland guide, giving the repeated assurance of, 'Not much further! Not much further!' At last, the first of the caves was reached just as large drops began to fall through the thin canopy of leaves overhead.

"You timed it perfectly, Nikerym!" Lostilsil proclaimed, turning in the mouth of the cave to see the heavens open their floodgates. "You do this sort of thing to make us even more in awe of you, is that not so?"

Haldir grinned. "It would not bother me for you to think that." He cast off his pack and quiver, then stood beside Lostilsil, admiring the storm's sudden fury. "I think we shall be here for some time. Our business is not urgent; there is no need to travel in the rain."

"It is a cold rain, and I imagine we will want a fire soon. Do you suppose there's a single piece of dry wood still to be had out there?" Lostilsil asked.

"Of course, there is, and you know where to find it," Haldir answered.

Lostilsil frowned with great drama. "Can we not ask for volunteers?"

Haldir slapped Lostilsil on the back. "Volunteers to go with you."

"If I must," Lostilsil conceded, then to the others, "Who will come with me?"

"I will," replied Legolas, speaking for the first time that morning, drawing everyone's attention. He had made the journey that morning in brooding silence, angry at Haldir for throwing virtue into the grimed hands of Elbererth knew how many partakers, angry at the rest of the patrol for letting him do it, and angry at himself for not being able to figure out why it should matter to him so much anyway. But now, he wanted nothing more than to be away from his companions, if only for a short time, in order to recollect himself.

"Very good, then." Lostilsil pulled his hood over his head, drew his cloak around him, and nearly shouted, "Follow me!"

Legolas followed him through the dripping rain. Within the wood, the wind lost its force and what was a driving rain turned into a sploshing rain, pouring cascade-like, towards the forest floor. Lostilsil was very fast, and after only a couple minutes, he had led them to a second cave. Here, they found a fair stock of wood and kindling stored neatly and dryly inside.

Lostilsil threw back his hood and gave a good-humored grin. "Well, now that I am wet clear through, I have a good mind to build the fire here and force the rest of them to come to us!" When Legolas made no reply, Lostilsil looked at him intently. "Are you unwell, Legolas?"

"I am fine," came the terse answer.

"You haven't said a word all morning," Lostilsil noted. "You are not disturbed about what happened yesterday, are you?"

Legolas almost gave another brush-aside, but he thought suddenly that perhaps here he might get some answers. "That depends on which event you are referring to," he said.

"The men," Lostilsil replied.

"The incident with the men did not distress me," Legolas replied. "I am more afraid that I will never be able to understand the way things work in the patrol."

Lostilsil eyed him curiously. "What do you find difficult?"

"I am troubled by the manner of collecting information," Legolas replied.

"What, in particular, troubles you?"

Legolas answered with a question. "Have you ever been in the Wayfarer's Hide?"

"Many, many times," Lostilsil replied.

"And have you been into the dark rooms?"

Lostilsil eyed Legolas with interest. "I have." He saw the distressed look on Legolas's face. "That disturbs you?"

Legolas hesitated. "I must admit that it does."

"Why is that?"

Legolas turned a surprised expression to him. "It was not something I expected."

"What were you expecting?"

"I was not expecting my captain to-to use his body to draw out information," Legolas admitted.

Lostilsil stared dumbfounded at Legolas. "Is that what you think?"

"It was clear what was going on in those rooms," Legolas replied. "When Haldir went back there, what else could he have been doing?"

"Haldir has only to turn a certain glance upon a person or another elf, and there comes over them a willingness, even a desire, to give him whatever he wants," Lostilsil said. "All elves have, to a certain degree, the ability to prevail upon men; but Haldir is an exception even among elves. He has a powerful allure. He doesn't have to use his body, and he would never allow any of us to do so, either."

"But then why would he go back there?" Legolas persisted.

"It affords more privacy, for one thing," Lostilsil replied. "And it offers a better opportunity to focus our attentions without drawing too much notice." He cocked his head and regarded Legolas curiously. "Did you really think Haldir was trading his body for information?"

Legolas felt the warmth of shame come into his face. He did not answer, but Lostilsil continued regardless.

"You still have much to learn about him if you would entertain such an idea." His words were spoken amiably. "He is the last elf who would compromise himself-in any matter or form."

"I feel very bad now," Legolas groaned.

"You needn't feel bad. Does Haldir know what you were thinking?"

"No, I didn't tell him," Legolas replied.

"Then don't fret over it. Now you know the truth, and you won't be as suspicious when you see the captain do things that seem odd or contrary," Lostilsil said.

Legolas nodded unconvincingly. He still felt the weight of a guilty conscience, and he wondered why he had been so sure that Haldir would participate in such activities, when now it seemed clear as the light of day that he would not. Indeed, now the very idea struck him as ludicrous.

Lostilsil began piling wood into Legolas's arms with no indication that their discussion was any more on his mind, yet his comments had raised new questions in Legolas's mind.

"Has Haldir ever won you over with just a glance, as you say?" he asked.

An expression of fond remembrance settled on Lostilsil's features as he continued to load the wood. "More times than I can recall."

"He really has that ability?"

"You've seen it yourself," Lostilsil replied. "That night at the fountain, you experienced it first-hand."

Legolas colored. "What?"

"It is nothing to be ashamed of. It has happened to all of us," Lostilsil replied.

"I am not sure I understand what you are talking about," Legolas said cautiously, although in fact, he had a very good idea what Lostilsil was talking about.

"Just the sheer joy of being in his company," Lostilsil replied casually. "You were very happy to be around him."

This, Legolas saw no sense in denying. "That is true. I do enjoy his company. But beyond that, I still do not comprehend your meaning."

Lostilsil cast him a studied glance. "You asked me if Haldir has ever won me over by a glance. I answered yes. I told you that you had witnessed him doing it first-hand that first night at the fountain. If you tell me you did not sense anything in yourself or those around you, then I will take your word for it; but I will claim that you are quite unfortunate. It a great thing, indeed, to feel what Haldir has to give." He stepped to the mouth of the cave, drawing his cloak over his bundle. "You are in a unique position, Prince of Mirkwood-"

Here, Legolas drew up in surprise, for he had not realized that anyone else in the patrol other than Haldir and his brothers had been told of his royal status.

Lostilsil went on. "He has been specifically appointed to look after you during your time in Lorien. He will do an excellent job. You should take advantage of the gift that has been offered to you." He did not wait for Legolas's reply, but stepped out into the rain. "We had better hurry, before they come searching for us!"

Legolas watched him for a moment, contemplating his words, before following his lead back to where Haldir was waiting.

The rain gave no sign of letting up. In fact, the storm seemed to be riding waves of intensity, each greater than the next. By early evening Haldir had decided that the patrol would stay in the cave for the night. He sent another mission of two elves out to bring more wood; and after a light meal, the elves settled down to various pursuits in the firelight.

Haldir approached Legolas right away. "Are you ready for another lesson?"

"That depends on what it is," Legolas replied, surprised at his own purposeful ironic tone.

Haldir regarded him without any appearance of puzzlement. "A language lesson," he replied, sitting down.

Legolas felt a strange tenseness arise in him as Haldir sat down. He felt guilt; but more than that, he felt almost threatened. A fear arose in him that Haldir's presence might, in fact, force him into an exhibition of emotion that would do nothing other than prove Lostilsil's earlier contentions.

'Mesmerized. He said I was mesmerized!' Legolas could not get Lostilsil's words out of his head. It had been a bold thing to say, and Legolas had spent the better part of the rain-bound afternoon trying to convince himself that Lostilsil had simply been seeing things, letting his imagination get the best of him. But now Haldir was sitting beside him, all warmth and friendliness; and as Legolas kept replaying that night at the fountain in his mind, the feelings he had experienced began to creep into his consciousness until he was hardly able to concentrate on what Haldir was teaching him, and even the briefest glance at his captain made him nervous and self-conscious.

'By Elbereth, what if it's true? What if Haldir is gaining some kind of hold over me? Was I so spellbound by his song that night? Ah, this is ridiculous! I'm worrying over nothing. I admire him, yes; so what is in that? It's expected that I would esteem my captain.

"Legolas, are you hearing anything I am saying?"

Legolas looked up abruptly and directly into Haldir's eyes. It had been nearly an hour since they had started the lesson, and yet it seemed as if only seconds had gone by. The blood rushed into Legolas's cheeks, but not due to Haldir's question. Suddenly, looking intently into Haldir's eyes seemed like inviting a hypnotist to work his magic.

"I'm sorry. I'm having trouble concentrating," Legolas apologized.

"Then why don't we take a break and hear some story-telling?" Haldir suggested.

From the other side of the fire, Lostilsil spoke up. "What about a song instead of a story? We haven't heard our captain sing since we set out."

Legolas shot a stricken, perturbed glance at Lostilsil. What was he trying to do, make Legolas more wretched than he already was? But a moment's consideration, and his ire was short-lived, for he began to consider that another song presented the opportunity for him to prove to himself that he was not succumbing to whatever power it was that Haldir was purported to exert over others.

"Very well," Haldir consented. "Stoke the fire first."

Legolas leapt to his feet. "I'll tend to it." He placed a couple more logs on the fire, then sat down on the opposite side of the flames from Haldir. The distance gave him a sense of safety, but only increased his fear that there was, indeed, something to hide from.

"Lostilsil, it was your suggestion for a song," Haldir stated. "Is there anything you wish to hear?"

"You know my favorite, Nikerym," Lostilsil replied. "I am always happy to hear it."

Haldir smiled. "Very well." There was a brief moment of silence, then he closed his eyes and began to sing. Once again, it was in the ancient tongue; but this time, without the instruments, it had an ephemeral quality that made disappear the rain, the cold walls of the cave, the warmth and brightness of the fire, the dampness of the earth, and the sounds of wild nature. In a matter of seconds, the only existences were those of the elves and the song, and . . .

. . . and something that Legolas could not put his finger on. Another reality abided in that space, and it was palpable, undeniable. Still, what it was precisely, Legolas did not know. Yet, that hardly seemed to matter at the moment. Something else was taking place in the cave, and it was this transformation that Legolas found himself swept up into.

'Layta Heru, i Menel ar Valar Layta Heru, i Uri ar Isil Layta Heru, i Air ear Eleni Layta Heru, i Ur ar Nique Layta Heru, i Ross ear Nixe Layta Heru, i Aria r Dosme Layta Heru, i Domi ar B'rona Layta Heru, i Gala ar Mornie Layta Heru, I Oronti ar Fanya'

The song continued on and on, drifting up to encompass its listeners. It was an even more incredible experience than had been the song at the fountain; for here, the smallness of their company lent an intimacy that surpassed anything Legolas had known before. And in that moment, he did not care if he were falling under a spell or not; he only wanted more- more of the song, more of the feeling it wrought within him, more of the elf who was singing it. He looked at Haldir through the flames, which, although only seconds ago had seemed to vanish, now suddenly seemed to be burning with renewed vigor and brightness. Then, very slowly, all the things that had faded into the background of the song began to manifest themselves with greater vibrancy. And still the song continued. The wind and the rain grew fiercer. The thunder raged loud enough to shake the hillsides. Even the air seemed to vibrate.

And Legolas watched Haldir. Above all the tumult, his voice could still be heard, rhythmic and melodiously serene. The subtle glow that shone in the faces of all the Lorien elves was unmistakably of greater brilliance in Haldir's features as he sang. The very air around him shimmered. Legolas sat in amazement, wondering what this was that he was privileged to witness it. For a short few moments, he broke away from his trance-like stare at Haldir and looked over the rest of the elves. They appeared to be in the same rapturous joy that had enveloped Legolas. And Lostilsil, in particular, gazed openly at his captain with an expression that was nothing short of adoration.

At last, the song came to an end, and the surreal atmosphere began to fade.

Lostilsil was the first to speak. "Tremendous. It is always tremendous. I am ever in wonder at how you can do that."

Haldir, looking up from bowed head, spoke in a voice of fatigue. "It is not I. You know that."

"You are the one who asks," Mythis put forth. "It is almost frightening how readily you are answered." He drew in a deep breath. "I love that song."

"Yes," Haldir agreed quietly. "It is one of my favorites, as well." He lay back with his head on the ground, clearly but not utterly spent. "Someone else, then. Who will sing now?"

Ascalonn was next, and he was not half-way through his ode when Legolas noticed Dolenrod prodding Mythis surreptitiously in the side. Legolas followed their gaze, and it led to Haldir, who appeared to be asleep. Mythis grinned then motioned to Ascalonn to lower his voice. Ascalonn continued singing in a near-whisper-a gentle, soothing sound-almost, Legolas realized suddenly, like a lullaby.

When Ascalonn had finished, Mythis leaned over his captain, then nodded to the rest of them. "Time to call it a night." He cast a humorous glance at Lostilsil. "Of all the songs, you had to pick that one."

"I could not help it. Not only is it a favorite of mine, but of all of us, including Haldir," Lostilsil replied plaintively.

"Yes, especially Haldir. You know what that song does to him," Mythis said back to him.

Legolas moved over to where Mythis stood next to Haldir. "What has happened?" he asked, sounding more worried than he had intended.

Mythis smiled. "Nothing has happened, Legolas. He is asleep." A glance at Lostilsil. "That particular song drains him of almost all his energy every time."

Legolas took a closer look at Haldir. Already, he appeared to be in a deep sleep. "He told me after the song at the fountain that he was exhausted, that the song had taken a lot out of him. And here again, but a different song . . ."

"They are not just songs, Legolas," Dolenrod said, shaking out his own cloak and laying it over Haldir's body. "They are ancient prayers. When Haldir sings them, to us it is entertainment. To him, it is something entirely different."

"Prayers?" Legolas looked up with questioning eyes.

"He has been singing them for as long as I can remember," Dolenrod continued. "All of them do this to him, to a greater or lesser degree. This song has a very strong effect on him, as you can see."

"But why? How?" Legolas asked.

"Are you being genuine, Legolas?" Mythis asked. "Did you feel nothing during that song? Did you notice nothing?"

Legolas hesitated, then spoke carefully. "I must admit, it was an incredible experience. I thought . . . it seemed like everything was more intense while he was singing."

"Then you did notice it," Mythis said with a nod of approval. "I would have been worried if you had not."

"What exactly was going on?" Legolas asked.

"If any of us could explain it, we'd tell you; but we've been witnessing it for centuries and are no closer to understanding it than we were in the beginning," Mythis replied. "We at least know the prayer he sang tonight and what it means, having heard it so many times. We ask for it a great deal, probably more than we should and for all the wrong reasons. It's very simple. He implores the hills and the fire and the rain and the stars, on and on the list goes-he implores them to sing praise. And then . . . they do." Seeing Legolas's stunned expression, he went on. "The fire burns higher, the stars shine brighter, the wind blows harder . . . you can actually see and hear and feel the difference. It's one of the most fascinating experiences any of us have ever had."

"But-but he is only a Captain of the Galadhrim," Legolas protested. "He doesn't have the ability to work miracles."

"Indeed not," Mythis replied. "Even the Lady Galadriel can not work miracles. But Haldir has never claimed to be responsible for the things that happen when he sings the prayers. He says it is all the Valar's doing, carrying out the will of Aluvater in response to his prayer."

"Aluvater . . . but that . . . that sort of worship is long over. How does he know these prayers?"

"Not so long over as you imagine," Mythis replied. "But he learned them from his uncle. More than that, I will leave him to tell you himself. Right now, we had better turn in. I will take the first watch."

---

The following morning dawned under a drizzling sky. Haldir deemed it was fair enough traveling weather, and the elves made ready to depart their shelter.

"Could you not prevail upon the clouds to disperse that we might travel under the sun?" Ascalonn asked Haldir as they stepped out into the fine, dampening mist.

Haldir put a hand on Ascalonn's shoulder. "Would you have me fall out again? That would require another song, and I am barely recovered from the last one. I sometimes believe that the only reason any of you ask me to sing for you is because you are trying to put me to sleep. What sorts of nefarious activities do you all get up to when I am made unconscious by your own requests?"

"We go cavorting with dwarves and wizards," Ascalonn replied.

"Of this, I would not be surprised," Haldir said.

"Shall we continue on to Ambling, Nikerym? Or shall we make directly for Potterspot?" Lostilsil asked, preparing to take the lead.

"We lost the whole day yesterday," Haldir replied. "So, I think we may bypass Ambling and go to Potterspot. The other patrols will be expecting to meet up with us the evening after next. Yes, straight on to Potterspot."

It took four hours to reach Potterspot, a picturesque village nestled in the vale between two arms of low hills reaching down from the Misty Mountains. Unlike Wayfare, Potterspot was rural and peaceful, its residents preferring quiet isolation to the hubbub of the towns closer to the highways.

Here, Lostilsil led them to a beautiful, rustic house set off in the wood just beyond the village's northern border. Instead of a barn, they were shown into the house by a short, stout woman by the name of Joanalind, whose round cheeks were red-splotched and whose graying hair was gathered into a ball on the top of her head.

"My elf-lads!" she proclaimed, ushering them into a large, open sitting room and tugging at their packs. "I were wonderin' when you boys a' be coming back. Is been o'er six months, at leas'."

Haldir bowed elegantly. "Seven months, good lady-"

"Don't 'good lady' me!" Joanalind refused, waving a shooing hand at him. "I may be good, but I'n a not any lady. No high blood in these veins!"

"Then I shall call you a good woman," Haldir replied. "Have you room enough for us tonight and tomorrow?"

"I would make room you," Joanalind said. "Best vis'ters ever been under this roof." She herded them towards a long, heavy, wooden table with matching benches. "Sit, sit! You mus' be starved, and don' tell me you been eatin' that elf stuff. Ain't no way to feed grown men." She saw the wry look Mythis gave her. "Eh, and you, Mr Pretty Face, I'll call you a man, if I feels like it. Sit down and I'll serve you up somethin'll put some meat on those skinny bones."

An hour later, the table was buried beneath empty plates and carafes, mugs and clean-picked bones. Joanalind had spent the greater part of the hour talking and asking questions without waiting for answers. She fussed and fretted over her guests, scolding them for going about in damp clothes, for stopping in such a wicked town as Wayfare, and for having been away for so long. By the time she had finished, the sky had cleared and the sun came streaming through the warped glass of the windowpanes.

Haldir moved to the window and looked out. "It looks like it will be a fine afternoon. I fancy a hike up to the Bird's Eye."

A collective groan rose from the group of elves.

Haldir turned a challenging eye on them. "Do you fear a bit of competition?"

"You always win. There is no competition," Lostilsil replied.

"Come now . . . after agreeing to virtually put myself to sleep last night in order to please all of you, now you will not even return the favor by agreeing to please me?"

"You are our captain, Haldir," Lostilsil said. "Even if we disagree, we must still do as you ask, so our willingness is of little matter."

"I would rather have you go willing," Haldir replied.

Legolas interjected at this point. "What is this all about?"

Haldir answered, "Come! You will see. All of you, come!"

Joanalind planted her chubby fists on her ample hips. "Don' you run them boys into the ground now, Mr Captain Elf. I'm a make a fine supper, and you make sure you be back in time for it. An' don' come tracking in alls the dirt!"

Haldir gave her a wink and then was out the door, trailing a grumbling gaggle of elves behind him. He led them through a vegetable garden to a gate at the far end. From here, they crossed a narrow expanse of long, waving grass, coming to the edge of a wooded uphill slope; and here, they stopped. Haldir turned and faced them with a bright glint in his eye. His gaze fell upon Legolas.

"We are going to race, Legolas," he said. "Try to keep up with us." Then to the rest of them, "To the pool."

No sooner had he spoken the last word than the elves broke from their places and began racing up the hill through the forest. Legolas followed Dolenrod, who had gotten the latest start; but he soon discovered that Dolenrod was outdistancing him, overtaking first Enthamis, and then Ascalonn, at which point, Legolas followed Ascalonn, for Dolenrod was soon far ahead.

In front of Dolenrod, Mythis was close on the heels of Lostilsil. And beyond them, Haldir had a good lead of almost twenty yards. Legolas watched as Dolenrod overtook Mythis, then Lostilsil, and at length, came within arm's reach of Haldir. Dolenrod reached out an arm, snagged the cowl of Haldir's cloak and pulled.

Haldir dragged on a few more yards, then fell to the ground under Dolenrod's persistent hold. As Dolenrod tried to then run past him, Haldir shot out his hand and grabbled Dolenrod's ankle. In an instant, both elves were on the ground, each enmeshed in a battle to keep the other one down. As they struggled in boisterous laughter, Mythis passed them and took the lead, until Lostilsil, following Dolenrod's example, tripped him up and took the lead himself.

Such was the progress of the elves up the hill. There were feints, dodges, wild sprints, and intense, brief wrestling matches every ten or twenty yards. Legolas was the only one left unaccosted, and he was beginning to feel that he was missing out on something very important to the camaraderie of the patrol.

At length, as he stood watching Mythis, who was now engaged with Ascalonn, like two rams butting heads, he noticed, for the first time, the sound of running water. To his right, thirty or so yards into the wood, he saw the sparkle of sunlight on water. A stream ran down the hillside between alternately high and shallow banks, cascading heavily over boulders and low falls after the prolonged rain.

'To the pool.' Those had been Haldir's words.

Legolas followed the course of the stream uphill with his eyes. There was a broad, wooded plateau not too far up; and a wide plume of water poured through a fissure in the plateau's edge. 'A perfect place,' Legolas thought smugly, 'to find a pool.' He followed the stream up to the plateau and found that he had been correct. A deep pool lay before him, fed by a shallow waterfall, bordered with a grassy verge, dotted with boulders and large flat rocks. It was not a large pool, perhaps ten yards across and twenty yards wide; but the blackness of its water betrayed its depth.

"This must be it," Legolas said under his breath, nodding appreciatively. It was a beautiful spot. He stood at the edge of the pool and put his fingers in the water, drawing back quickly. The water was very cold, not surprising after all the rain. He then sat down on the grass and waited.

It was not long before Haldir burst over the top edge of the plateau with a proclamation of victory. He noticed Legolas just at the same moment that the Prince of Mirkwood spoke carelessly, "You can only claim second place, Nikerym."

Haldir dropped onto his knees, breathing heavily. "Your-win-is not recognized."

Legolas got up, walked over and hunkered down in front of him. "I tried to keep up with you, but that became impossible once I overtook you," he grinned, then noticing a scrape on Haldir's forehead, he said, "Your forehead is bleeding a little bit. They were pretty rough on you, weren't they?"

Haldir gingerly fingered his forehead. "It will heal soon enough."

The rest of the elves came up over the ridge, looking no better than Haldir. They were filthy. The ground had still been wet from the rainfall, and now the elves were streaked with mud, their hair dotted with leaves and twigs-they looked very . . . un-elflike. Their usual pallid complexions were now filled with high color. Legolas found their appearance at the moment to be intriguing, nothing short of exotic.

Seeing them, Haldir went on dramatically between breaths, "And yes, they were rough! They get more cut-throat every time. I am afraid I am creating a band of ruffians!"

"This, from the chief ruffian!" Lostilsil cried as he collapsed onto the grass, panting and heaving.

Legolas dabbed at Haldir's forehead with a corner of his cloak. "I think Lostilsil is right."

Haldir looked at him with an innocuous expression. "Are you already being swayed by these miscreants? I am far from being a ruffian."

Legolas felt a tremendous and sudden fondness grip his heart as he locked gazes with Haldir. "That is exactly true," he said softly. "You are no ruffian at all."

"Nikerym?"

Haldir looked up. It was Mythis who had spoken. His eyes swept from Haldir to the pool, then back to Haldir. Around him, the rest of the patrol was looking hopefully at their captain.

Haldir made a gesture of concession. "Yes, you may."

Within second, the elves had stripped off their garments and were in the chilling water, with only Haldir and Legolas remaining fully clothed on the bank.

Haldir watched them for a short time, then announced, "I am going up to the Bird's Eye. I will fetch you all on my way back down."

Legolas watched as he disappeared further up the hillside. He considered the pool, looked back up the hill, then followed Haldir. He caught up with him a hundred yards or so into the forest.

Haldir turned as he approached. "You'd rather go with me than take a swim?"

"It looked cold," Legolas replied. "And I wasn't quite as in need of a swim as the rest of them. Although you look like you could use a swim."

Haldir grinned. "I could, but there is something I wish to do first. Besides, Joanalind makes a splendid hot bath. She will have one prepared for me when we return."

"Did you wish to go on alone?" Legolas asked.

"No, your company is welcome."

They picked their way through the woods, moving ever higher. Legolas let several minutes go by before speaking what was on his mind.

"I wanted to ask you about the song you sang last night."

Haldir's silence invited him to go on.

"Are you aware of what happens when you sing that song?"

"Yes," came the simple reply.

Legolas had been hoping for more, but clearly, he was going to have to draw out any answers on this particular matter.

"Don't those events strike as rather . . . remarkable?" he queried.

"Yes."

"Have you an explanation for them?"

"I have," Haldir replied, and he stopped walking. He looked at Legolas with a serious, penetrating gaze. "Faith."

Faith?"

Haldir began walking again. "Faith. I do not know any other explanation for how such things can take place."

Legolas was puzzled. "Faith in what? The Valar?"

Haldir smiled. "In the Valar, yes. But even the Valar have their master."

Legolas began to understand. "Mythis told me you worship Aluvater."

"Mythis told you the truth."

"That is where your faith lies," Legolas concluded.

Haldir inclined his head in a gesture of acknowledgment.

Legolas considered for several seconds. "But that does not explain the effect the song has on your listeners. And not just the song last night-the song you sang at the fountain the first night I was here . . . it's as if a spell is being cast."

Haldir smiled. "I do not deal in spells. I would say, however, that in every elf, there is a part of the soul that, even though it has been asleep for thousands of years, recognizes the sound of praise being rendered to the only One who deserves it." A pause. "After all, you did not know what I was singing. You could not understand it. Yet, the songs moved you, as they move every elf that hears them."

Legolas pondered this explanation, but he was not convinced that this was the answer at all. Or it if were, it was not the answer he was seeking. He wanted something more concrete, less mysterious. But then perhaps he had been asking the wrong question.

"They moved me, yes," Legolas replied. "But I must admit that, upon hearing them, my thoughts were not of Aluvater or the Valar or anything so lofty."

"Oh?" Haldir said. He was not looking at Legolas, but Legolas could sense that his captain had grown suddenly uncomfortable.

"My thoughts were of you," Legolas went on. "That is the truth."

"I am sure you are mistaken," Haldir replied, although he did not sound so confident.

"Mistaken? No, I don't-"

"There have been others who have made the same error," Haldir replied, trying to sound indifferent, but he had no talent for duplicity. "Because they can not see Aluvater or the Valar-the ones who are truly responsible for any miracles in nature or emotion-they mistakenly look at me as the one who deserves their devotion."

"That is not the case with me," Legolas said. "I meant only that my attentions were focused strictly on you as you sang. You said you do not deal in spells, but that is how it seemed to me. My thoughts were completely taken up by you. I do not believe I could have broken loose, even if I had tried."

"You underrate your own self-mastery, Legolas," Haldir replied.

"I am not the only one," Legolas went on. "The rest of them-Lostilsil, Mythis, all of them-they have all spoken of the . . . the effect you have on them."

"I am supposed to have an effect on them. I am their captain." It was a weak reply, and they both knew it, but Haldir was determined that the conversation should end. "I shall say that there is a bond between me and the other members of the patrol," he said with greater strength. "I shall admit that it is not an accident but rather something I have worked for centuries to create. And that, if there are other sentiments besides loyalty and friendship that come into play, then I shall not attempt to define them. If that does not satisfy your curious mind, then I am afraid you are forever doomed to be frustrated."

Legolas could not suppress a chuckle at this pronouncement, but it was clear that Haldir would entertain no more probes into the matter; and so Legolas changed the subject.

"Then I shall accept frustration," he conceded. "But perhaps you will finish telling me about how you learned the Ancient Language. You began to tell me that night at the fountain. You said you learned it from your uncle."

This topic seemed to threaten Haldir less than the other, and he answered readily. "There was a tradition in certain families of the first age that the learning and preservation of Primordial Elvish would be entrusted to the first-born son. That first-born son would then be responsible for teaching it to the first-born sons of his brothers and sisters. My Uncle Hevereth was the first-born of my father's family. I am the first-born of my father, so my uncle taught me."

"But I have never heard it spoken before," Legolas replied. "It seems to me that there should be many elves speaking it."

"And there are, but not in Middle Earth," Haldir said. "In Valinor, you would find many, including my uncle. He left these lands half a century ago." Haldir's voice took on a melancholy tone. "I am the only one left in Lorien. I believe I may be the only one left in all of Middle Earth."

"But how is that possible?"

"The families have grown smaller," Haldir replied. "In some cases, there were no first-born sons to teach. Multiply the shrinking numbers by centuries, and we have the situation as it stands today."

Legolas grinned playfully. "Hadn't you ought to get busy then and find an elf-maiden with whom to settle down and bring forth your progeny?"

Haldir returned the grin. "Marriage is not in my future. I will that to my brothers. It is they who must get busy."

"You do not intend to marry?" Legolas asked.

"I have already made my commitment," Haldir replied.

"What are you committed to?"

Haldir hesitated before answering. "The patrol," he said at last, but his voice betrayed a holding back. There was more; but for whatever reason, Haldir was not willing to give it out. And Legolas decided not to push- for once.

Shortly, they came to a small grotto in the hillside. There was a shapeless mass of lichen-covered stone resting on a pedestal; both stone and pedestal had fallen backwards and were leaning against the wall.

"What is this?" Legolas asked.

"An old shrine. Men used to come here to offer prayers." He turned and looked out through the trees at the land below. "They call it the Bird's Eye now, because it affords such an excellent view of the countryside." He cast a glance at Legolas. "You'll excuse me for a bit now. I require some privacy."

"Oh-yes, of course," Legolas replied, slightly surprised. "I'll just look around." He walked up the rise on the side of the grotto and stopped on top to survey his surroundings. And then, from below he heard the sound of Haldir's voice, chanting softly.

Legolas sat down on a rocky outcropping and listened. It was his own private performance, and he was more than ready to savor it. He was beginning to think that he could never hear enough of this voice.

And for the first time, that idea did not frighten him.

The gathering of information in Potterspot was an enjoyable experience after the horrors of Wayfare. The village green was a popular gathering spot for the women in the morning, coming to draw water and trade their wares. And in the evenings, the men came to draw ale and trade stories.

Haldir and his elves were present for both the morning and the evening gatherings. In addition to hearing many rumors and gossip, they came across some useful bits of information. They were treated with great kindness and respect; and partaking in the evening ale swill did great things for their popularity, which was already considerable.

It was on the second evening of the elves' arrival in Potterspot that the rest of the patrol arrived, each group arriving within an hour's span. They met on the green amidst the evening's pleasures, and Legolas was happy to see them. If there was anything to be said for strength in numbers, it was that Legolas could not help but wish that the likes of Ardamil and Henschel and Orophin had been present in Wayfare. Their presence would have been deterrent enough to prevent any kind of confrontation.

Legolas watched as Haldir greeted his brothers in the usual manner, cheek pressed to cheek. His eyes then followed Haldir as the latter went through and welcomed all the members of the patrol with a warm clasp on the shoulder. Haldir came last to Ardamil, and to Legolas's surprise, extended the same manner of greeting to Ardamil as he had to his brothers. And there was no mistaking the look of peacefulness in Ardamil's countenance, as the two elves lingered in contact a little longer than would have seemed customary.

As Ardamil drew back, his gaze moved up to Haldir's forehead. "You're injured," he said.

"It will be healed in a day or two," Haldir replied carelessly.

"How did it happen?"

"We had a little contest," Haldir told him.

Ardamil regarded him dubiously. "I see. Did you win?"

Haldir gave a one-sided shrug. "Naturally. Or rather, I should say that among competitors, I won." His gaze shifted towards Legolas. "Of course, there was one non-competitor who managed to slip in ahead of me."

Legolas adopted an innocent expression.

"He bears watching-this one," Haldir went on, with a smile of affected suspicion.

Ardamil narrowed his eyes. "I think you're right."

Haldir approached Legolas and put his hand on his shoulder. "So, I will have to keep both eyes on you."

Legolas merely smiled. Over Haldir's shoulder, he saw Ardamil watching him. A peculiar expression was on the subaltern's face. It was not quite sadness, but more like a deflation of joy. Legolas caught only a glimpse of it before it was replaced by pleasant serenity as Haldir turned back to Ardamil once more.

"Come along, then!" Haldir said vigorously, putting an arm around each elf's shoulders. "We'll fetch an ale, and then we can all trade tales of our adventures."

The evening faded into night and the green came to even more vibrant life as the women and children joined the men. An ensemble took up place on a raised platform in the center of the green and began to play a set of jigs.

The elves joined in the entertainment, dancing with the village maidens, joining in the ensemble, and even singing several odes from both human and elvish repertoires.

Haldir stood with Joanalind, her husband Arnturo, and a handful of other outlying farmers' families. They told him of good harvests; the difficulties of bartering with the villagers of Dell, another village several miles to the north; and the sudden abundance of good horses for trade in Millstock. Haldir listened with polite interest, for the topics did, in truth, appeal to him; yet his attention frequently was directed towards the center of the green, where the dancers twirled and spun and laughed. A good number of his elves, many of them still grimed and wearing the signs of their travels, were among those taking part in the dancing. And Legolas was of particular notice. Haldir decided it was the Mirkwood blood that made Legolas so well able to spin and bounce and leap and jump with such reckless abandon that he might be mistaken for a human, what with his total disregard for grace, preferring energy over finesse.

"Your new lad, ee's a good type, aren't ee?" The sound of Joanalind's voice drew Haldir's attention.

"Legolas, you mean?" he asked.

"Ai, Legolas. Look at all 'em lasses," Joanalind replied. "They near swoonin'. Why, even pretty Mythis warn't so well received. You have some competition."

Haldir chuckled. "He is a good addition to the patrol, if perhaps a bit headstrong."

"Ah, then 'ee larnt it from you."

"There, you are mistaken. He was already well-instructed in obstinancy before he ever set eyes on me," Haldir corrected. "He is eager-to-please."

"An' does 'ee desire to please you?" Joanalind asked.

Haldir did not reply right away. He knew the answer to that question, and he knew he must proceed with caution. At last, he replied, "He does, very much."

"Then it should all be good," Joanalind said, sounding satisfied.

Haldir's gaze returned to the field of dancers, where the realm of Mirkwood, all exuberant gaiety, now held centerstage. "That is my fervent hope," he replied quietly, and although he spoke with confidence, he was not so sure himself, the direction things would take. And this was what Haldir most feared and despised: uncertainty.

---

"You have not danced once all night!"

Haldir regarded Orophin with a placid expression. The latter had hardly stopped dancing all night, and now he was taking a pause, but only long enough to accuse his brother of dullness.

"You are more than making up for my absence," Haldir replied.

"Capricious elf!" Orophin said, shaking his head. "You love to dance, so why are you standing here, so aloof?"

Haldir gave him an arch look. "They have played an unending succession of jigs and reels. When they come to something with a bit more elegance and reserve, then I shall be glad to dance."

"Rubbish!" Orophin rejected. "I've seen you jigging and reeling with the best of them, brother. You are just being difficult. Very well. I shall go and request something dull and insipid, and then I shall expect to see you dance." He did not wait for a reply before heading for the musicians.

The very next song was called 'The Mountain Kings', and Haldir could not deny that it met his requirements for "elegance and reserve". Orophin had done an excellent job of identifying a song that Haldir could not refuse. But instead of asking any of the maidens who had been clamoring after him for a dance all the night, he asked Joanalind to do him the honor of standing up with him. It was a very formal dance, very structured, and as Haldir led Joanalind out to take their places, he was very aware that many eyes were upon them.

One set of eyes, in particular, followed the pair's every move with heightened interest. Legolas was well aware that this was his captain's first excursion into the night's dancing, and he decided to sit this one out so as to procure better viewing.

The music began, slow and majestic. Legolas remarked to himself that the song seemed to be tailor-made for Haldir, whose movements were characterized by a fluidity and grace that would have marked him as being of royal blood, had Legolas not already known otherwise. The Captain of the Wide Patrol carried himself with high chin and elegant posture, easily comparable to the exhibitions of those of high blood.

Legolas suddenly became aware that he wanted very much to see Haldir engaged in the more vibrant dances. He wanted to see the letting down of the guard, to hear his laughter, and see that powerful, perfectly self-controlled body let loose to the lilting tune of a country jig. The beauty and serenity that flowed now before his eyes was enchanting, but he did not want enchantment. He wanted to see that slightly wild edge again. In fact, he was longing for it.

"He is graceful like a swan." The sound of Ardamil's voice startled Legolas, and he turned to regard the subaltern, who was standing beside him in a relaxed manner.

"Yes, yes, he is," Legolas replied evenly.

"I thought he would go the whole night without dancing," Ardamil went on, "which would be unusual for him. He so enjoys the pastime."

"Does he?"

"Indeed."

"The lively ones as well as the formal ones?"

"All kinds," Ardamil replied. After a brief pause, he changed the subject. "Dolenrod told me there was some excitement in Wayfare."

"Excitement is a good word for it," Legolas replied. "I think I caused quite a bit of trouble."

"It is a good thing no one was hurt," Ardamil said, but his voice was not accusative.

"Several of the men were hurt," Legolas replied. "Not to mention, my pride."

Ardamil grinned. "Was Haldir hard on you?"

Legolas returned the smile. "He made his point."

A knowing expression gleamed in Ardamil's eyes. "He has ways of making sure his point is felt. And where you are concerned, I fear he has more than enough reasons for fretting over your safety."

Legolas's smile wilted. "And your meaning?"

"He can hardly afford to let anything happen to you," Ardamil replied. "That would do no good for relations between Lorien and Mirkwood. And it would land Haldir in all sorts of trouble. Thranduil trusts our Lord, and our Lord trusts Haldir."

"Does the entire patrol know now who my father is?"

"Was it supposed to be a secret?"

Legolas frowned. "A secret, no. But I did not want anyone treating me like a prince."

"Has anyone been treating you like a prince?" Ardamil asked.

Legolas considered. "To be truthful, no. They are treating me . . . like one of them. Haldir said once that in the back of his mind, he is always aware that I am a prince. But he has not spared me his reprimand or correction." He drew in a pensive breath. "He has been very good to me."

"And he will continue to be so," Ardamil said assuredly.

Legolas could not help but like Ardamil, for here was an elf who was as open and guileless as Legolas himself. And so, he felt comfortable speaking his thoughts. "He is unique," he said slowly. "I am never sure what to expect from him."

"You can always expect the truth," Ardamil replied, "even when it is painful."

"Is that meant to comfort me?" Legolas asked with a smile.

"It is," Ardamil said. "And you can believe me when I tell you that as the weeks go by, you will come to realize just how much a comfort it really is to know that, no matter what else may befall you, there is always one who is willing to speak the truth to you, and that he will always speak the truth in love."

At that moment, in a turn in the dance, Haldir's gaze fell upon the two elves. A very pleased look crossed his face, before the next step redirected his gaze.

"I can very easily believe that," Legolas said. "He is like no other elf that I have ever met. I would rather endure his anger than learn under anyone else."

"You are beginning to understand," Ardamil said softly.

---

That understanding grew over the ensuing weeks. Three more times, the patrol split into groups, and each time Legolas was in Haldir's squad. The more time he spent with him, the more Legolas was convinced that Haldir was something exceptionally rare and exquisite. He was also perplexing and, at times, downright infuriating. Haldir had a standard, and it was not simply a standard of performance. It was a standard of behavior. There were certain things he expected and other things that he would tolerate under no circumstances. Integrity was expected; dishonesty was not tolerated. Loyalty was expected; disobedience was not tolerated. Fraternity was expected; bickering was not tolerated. Team work was expected; laziness was not tolerated. And above it all rode an unwavering fairness-Haldir was impeccably just. He corrected, scolded, and reprimanded when needed. But grudges were unknown to him, and more often than not, he could be seen praising his warriors and working to improve their skills. He had forged a team-but it was more than a team. It was a family.

And for Legolas, it was a welcoming family. The Lorien elves treated him to a fair amount of good-natured ribbing about his princely background; yet they held him to the same standard to which they held themselves. There was no lack of challenges, and the members of the patrol were quick to issue and accept challenges, from who could tell the best story to who ran the fastest to who was best wrestler. Indeed, it seemed an unplanned wrestling match materialized almost every other day, and Haldir was involved in at least half of them. Legolas noted with interest that his captain did not win every match; yet, those matches that Haldir lost struck Legolas as fraudulent, except that he knew that Haldir detested duplicity. The losses seemed indicative of something much different than defeat. If Legolas had to make a judgment, he would have believed that Haldir was letting his warriors beat him in order to prove a point, although the point itself was a mystery.

Not that Legolas was left much time to ponder mysteries. The Prince of Mirkwood had raced, sang, told stories, demonstrated his archery prowess, climbed trees, walked single strand river ropes, canoed, and, to his great amusement, tended to the keeping of several heads of hair-all activities which involved a degree of competition within the patrol, as nearly every activity was subjected to some manner of rivalry. Yet, the one thing he had not been singled out for was wrestling. There had been times when he had been sure of an engagement, only to be disappointed by the other party's reluctance. He could not imagine why his would-be opponents pulled back at the last moments, other than the fact that they must be under orders of the 'don't injure the prince' type. He even went out of his way to provoke one or another of them from time to time to see if they would take him on; but as much as they apparently enjoyed responding to him with teasing and return provocation, they never drew him into a match. And the fact that Haldir had, by the end of the patrol, indulged in at least one engagement with three-quarters of his warriors only added to Legolas's sense of frustration. Haldir was keen to teach him many things: the ancient language, tracking skills, riding tricks, how to fashion a make-shift bow out of the branch of a sapling, and how to inquire of the various woodland creatures. Truthfully, Legolas could not complain about Haldir showing him a lack of attention. Yet, the one attention he sought was also the one attention he had not received; and as the weeks went by, it occurred to Legolas why the matter weighed so heavily upon his mind: the wrestling was a sign of inclusion, an affirmation of the bond between warriors; and despite all the other kindnesses shown to him, this was the one thing he wanted above all else.

And as the patrol neared the end of its six weeks beyond the borders, Legolas frustration took on the form of youthful petulance. He did everything he could to lure Haldir into a match, but Haldir met the challenge with steadfast equanimity and a subtle sense of humor at the whole matter, for it was clear to the guardian what his guest was attempting.

The patrol returned, at last, to the northern borders of Lorien on a day of clear and sweltering sunshine. By the time the patrol reached the Nimrodel in the peak of the afternoon, they were all hot, weary, and ready for a respite. Haldir called a halt on the river's bank.

Legolas sat down on a moss-covered mound of rock, slipped off his pack, and allowed himself to savor the feeling of not having his muscles engaged. Around him, the rest of the patrol were already casting off their weapons, packs, and uniforms. But Legolas's eyes were focused near the water's edge, where Haldir moved languidly as he stripped down to the bare flesh. Again, as before, Legolas admired his captain's fine build, all strength and supple agility. He watched as Haldir strode up behind Ardamil, who was testing the water with his foot, and promptly pushed him in.

"None of that dainty stuff!" Haldir laughed heartily. He turned and surveyed the rest of the patrol. Most of them were in various stages of undress, but Haldir's attention was immediately drawn to the fully dressed Prince of Mirkwood, still sitting smugly on his perch.

"Do Mirkwood elves melt in the water?" Haldir asked with a mirthful gleam in his eye.

Legolas displayed a well-executed, contrived simper. "You certainly won't have an answer to that today."

"Do you believe that?" Haldir crossed his arms over his chest.

The simper curved into a grin. "I have no intention of going into the water."

"I have every intention of putting you there," Haldir replied. "Did you honestly believe that you would make it through the entire patrol without even one contest."

The rest of the patrol looked on in amusement. They knew their captain very well. They had witnessed his efforts to make Legolas feel welcomed, to integrate him into the patrol. They had observed his quiet assessment of Legolas's abilities and skills. And they saw his readiness to take whatever measures were necessary to ensure Legolas's safety. But now they saw something new in the way Haldir was addressing Legolas. It was something they had all experienced themselves-the move from trial to acceptance, from acquaintance to family. And coming from an elf such as Haldir, it was one of the most satisfying feelings any of them had ever known. Seeing it occur with other elves, new members of the patrol, only brought back the initial elation that each had felt at his own crossing of that threshold.

"I am outnumbered. This is hardly fair," Legolas said coolly, although his heart pounded with joy at the unexpected imminent fulfillment of the very thing he had most desired.

Haldir feigned perplexity. "I am one. You are one. What is unfair about that?"

Legolas was now truly in a good humor. "You will attempt to take me by yourself?"

Haldir took several steps closer. "I will take you." He looked perfectly at ease. "But I would advise you to remove your weapons. I would not see them ruined."

Legolas looked about him as he began to disarm. The rest of the patrol was watching with interest, expectant grins spread across their faces. A short burst of laughter broke from Legolas's lips. "I feel like a lamb among wolves! Is there no one who will come to my defense?"

"I would suggest you agree to go in the water," Rumil replied. "Haldir is never outdone."

Legolas looked back at Haldir, who was very close now. "Yes, I have heard that many times."

Haldir's expression was the mastery of arrogance. "There's always a first time. You may take your chances."

"I recall hearing you say that to Pelvil, and you defeated him," Legolas said mindfully.

"Yes, but even so, Pelvil took his chance. You might surprise me," Haldir replied.

"As you are now, you're at a distinct disadvantage," Legolas stated, gesturing to indicate Haldir's nudity. "You're rather vulnerable."

"You, more so," Haldir replied cryptically, then with a smugness that even Legolas could not duplicate, he asked, "Do you want to get your clothes wet?"

Legolas hardly knew what to say. It was clear that Haldir intended to take him into the water in one way or another. He could go of his own accord, but after such posturing, it would seem dull. He wanted very much to test himself against his captain, although he was quite certain that he was no match for Haldir. That hardly mattered in any event, for Legolas wanted this contest. He wanted it very much.

But in the next moment, his predicament resolved itself most unexpectedly.

Ardamil had climbed out of the water and now led the patrol rushing suddenly forward. At first, Legolas feared that they were coming for him, but his fear turned instantly to hilarity as Haldir was engulfed and dragged, roaring with laughter and protest, toward the water and cast into the river.

He bobbed to the surface, his voice erupting in pleasure. "This-this is how you treat your beloved captain?!?"

"It's precisely because we love you, Haldir," Ardamil replied before diving in himself.

Legolas came to the bank and to the handsome march warden, glowing with the effulgence of unfettered joy. He said simply, "I feel like a swim now."

It was not Haldir who answered. Rather, it was Rumil's voice, close at hand. "I should say you do."

Before Legolas could even think, he found himself plummeting into the water. He came up laughing and moved towards the shore. "You are all treacherous!! Every one of you!" he cried between laughter. He pulled himself out of the water. "My clothes! Look at me!"

"Take them off and set them in the sun," Orophin said. "They will be dry by the time we are ready to move on."

Legolas peeled off the clinging uniform and set it in a splash of sunlight. He returned to the water's edge, searched for Haldir among the elves in the water and spotted him in the middle of the river, treading water and laughing at something Henschel was saying.

Legolas dove into the water like a seabird, glided beneath the surface out to the middle of the river, and grabbed hold of Haldir's ankle, pulling him briefly under the water. They came to the surface together to the sound of Henschel's laughter.

Legolas shook the water out of his eyes. "So, you were going to throw me into the water?!" he grinned.

"And I was looking forward to it," Haldir replied. "You have Ardamil to thank for saving you . . . that is, until Rumil took things into his own hands."

"I didn't want to be saved," Legolas said, his voice mildly suggestive.

Haldir cocked an eyebrow at him. "Really? You were certainly acting like it."

"Far from it," Legolas replied with an impish grin before diving back under the water and swimming to join Lostilsil and Dolenrod on the far side of the river, leaving Haldir to look after him with a rising sense of humor, so obvious was Legolas's intent. Haldir was finding it rather good fun observing Legolas's attempts to draw him into a confrontation; but at present, there was another elf who had earned a certain come-uppance; and Haldir already had his eye on him.

After nearly an hour of playing and relaxing at the river, Haldir ordered the patrol out of the water; but while the rest of them began dressing, Haldir went up to Ardamil.

"I think you've earned a reprimand," he said with a recognizable gleam in his eye.

"I beg to differ, Nikerym. You pushed me into the water first," Ardamil protested.

"That's a quibble," Haldir replied, and in the next instant, he had Ardamil in a headlock. But Ardamil was not a young, inexperienced elf. Strength-wise, he was an even match for Haldir, and stepping back, he flipped him over his shoulder and fell upon him. From there, it became truly a test of strength over skill.

The patrol gathered round, cheering and hooting. They were enjoying this match more than any other they had witnessed during the entire six weeks, and Legolas could see why right away: Haldir and Ardamil were evenly matched. There would be no 'throwing' this match. But there was something much more than an equality of ability that added allure to this competition: the way the two elves clung to and enfolded each other gave their sport the appearance of a lovers' enounter. And when Ardamil pinned Haldir beneath him, it was not a false victory. It was genuine and it was earned.

And to Legolas, it was one of the most tantalizing scenes he had ever witnessed. The sight of Haldir's beautiful body, fully naked, subdued beneath Ardamil's weight made Legolas's breath catch in his throat. The two elves were panting from exertion, their faces only inches apart. Legolas saw the look in Haldir's eyes, and a surge of envy-even jealousy-shot through Legolas's body, especially as the look was reflected back in Ardamil's countenance.

"Do I win?" Ardamil asked.

"You win," Haldir replied.

Ardamil did not get up right away, and Legolas could not blame him. How could he blame him for savoring that moment of ownership, that moment when he could claim Haldir as his own, the prize he had won? When Ardamil did finally get up, Legolas felt the pain of the separation of the two bodies as if it were happening to himself.

Ardamil pulled Haldir to his feet. "I think I need another swim now."

Haldir agreed. He turned to Orophin. "Lead the patrol back to Caras Galadhon. We will follow shortly."

Orophin nodded. "Yes, Nikerym."

Haldir followed Ardamil into the water as the rest of the patrol formed up and moved off into the forest. Legolas followed at the rear, his thoughts completely filled with images of the bodies of his captain and subaltern wound about each other; but even more insistent was the recollection of the expression in Haldir's eyes. Legolas felt he would have done anything to have that expression turned his way.

"Legolas."

The sound of Rumil's voice startled him. He blushed slightly with the peculiar thought that Rumil could read his mind.

"Where are your weapons?"

Legolas halted, dumbfounded. Immediately, he knew where he had left them, but retrieving them would entail a return to the river, and he was torn about this. A certain part of him was aching to play the voyeur, but another part of him was not certain he had the heart to bear what he might observe. And it did not escape him that it was perfectly possible that the same part of him that wanted to see Haldir and Ardamil together might have had some hand in the forgetting of his weapons.

"I left them back at the river," he replied.

"You had better go get them," Rumil replied. "And you had better be stealthy about it. Haldir will skin you alive if he finds you left your weapons. I hope he has not found them already."

Legolas backtracked through the woods, slowing his pace as he drew near the river in order to practice Rumil's recommendation of stealth. The sound of voices directed his attention to the moss-covered rock where he had sat earlier and where now Haldir had bent down and was retrieving something from the ground. He straightened up, Legolas's bow and quiver in his hands.

"I believe these belong to the Prince of Mirkwood," he announced.

Ardamil grinned. "I believe they do."

"I will have to punish him severely for leaving his weapons," Haldir said, and despite the threat, his voice was cheerful.

"Somehow I do not think he would mind that," Ardamil replied.

Haldir laughed. "He does everything but ask for it, that is true. But you stole it from him earlier. Why did you inveigle them into dragging me into the river? I was looking forward to matching with Legolas."

Ardamil took the weapons from Haldir's hands and set them on the ground. He placed his hands on Haldir's shoulders and guided him to sit on the rock, then he moved around behind him and began to knead his shoulders. "Because I wanted to match with you," he replied honestly.

Haldir sat still and let Ardamil massage his muscles. "I see. If it makes you happy, I will tell you that you wrestled well," he said casually. He could not see the grin that crossed Ardamil's face.

"I should hope so. I had been preparing for that since the beginning of the patrol," came the somewhat cocky reply.

"Oh?" Haldir prompted.

"It had been many years since we last wrestled," Ardamil said, and the tone of his voice had softened. "I missed being close to you."

Now it was Haldir's turn to smile. "I missed it, too. But you know you can be close to me any time, Ardamil. You do not have to wrestle me for it."

"Ah, but I enjoy wrestling with you," Ardamil replied.

"Yes, so I observed."

"Then my victory was an honest one?"

Haldir nodded. "An honest one. You earned it." He paused. "I wonder that you did not renew your seal on me."

Ardamil continued working the tight muscles beneath his fingers. "I intend to. I only . . . I wanted to wait until we were alone."

Haldir reached up with one hand and took hold of Ardamil's wrist. "Come here, where I can see you." Ardamil came around and stood in front of him. Haldir looked up at him. "We're alone. Will you renew your seal?"

Ardamil's expression was one of sincerity. "It has been almost a millenium since I first bestowed my seal on you. Since then, there have been countless hundreds of renewals, and yet my original seal was never broken. But I-would I be out of place to remind my captain that it has been many decades since he last renewed his seal on me?"

Haldir looked momentarily stunned then pained. He got to his feet. "Ardamil . . . my dear, good Ardamil . . . forgive me."

"I have not held it against you," Ardamil replied.

"Then I hold it against myself," Haldir replied, reaching up and clasping Ardamil's shoulder. "I promise you that my seal is still whole and unbroken, but I will gladly renew it." He leaned forward and pressed a kiss to the corner of Ardamil's mouth. "Where would I be without you?" he said softly.

"In the same place you are now, bestowing your allegiance on some other more deserving elf," Ardamil replied.

"There is none more deserving," Haldir countered.

Ardamil kissed his forehead, permitting his lips to linger on the porcelain skin. When he spoke at last, his voice was protective. "Be careful, Haldir."

"You worry very much," Haldir said gently, easing back and indulging himself with a careful examination of Ardamil's classically handsome face, made all the more exquisite by the look of loving concern thereon.

"There is reason to worry," Ardamil replied. "You are too good, too trusting."

"Ardamil-"

"No, hear me," Ardamil insisted. "You can sense the danger of an orc attack before it happens; you can read the weather from the conversation of trees; you can even charm a fish into believing it has wings. But after all these centuries, you are still vulnerable; and you know what I mean. Not every story can end as happily as ours. Not every elf is able to remain in the patrol, and you know why."

Haldir waited patiently until he had finished, then he spoke with the ease of confidence. "Am I then to treat every elf as if he presents a threat?"

"Of course not," Ardamil replied. "But I might recommend caution to my captain."

"Are you jealous of Legolas?"

Ardamil shook his head slowly. "No, Nikerym, I am not jealous. I am quite fond of him, in fact. And it is clear that the entire patrol is taken with him-yourself included." He placed an almost paternal hand on Haldir's cheek. "I only advise caution, Haldir. Already, I can see that Legolas is one whom you would not wish to lose. If you are not careful with him, that is precisely what will happen. I have never been wrong about such things."

Haldir smiled. "And again, I ask, where would I be without you?"

Ardamil enfolded him in warm embrace. "You will never have to worry about that. I will always be here."

Helms Deep

Gimli followed Legolas's movements with his eyes. The red-cloaked Haldir had preceded the Prince of Mirkwood out of the shrine; now, Legolas emerged and stood on the threshold for a moment, watching Haldir's retreat. Even across the distance-for Gimli was on the keep's outer stair-the discontent on Legolas's face shone clearly. The elf looked uncertain how to proceed. At last, he started towards the deeping wall, opposite the end towards which Haldir had gone.

Gimli altered his own direction and met Legolas halfway across the enclosure. As he drew nearer, Gimli could see that Legolas was more than merely discontent; he was frustrated and aggrieved. It was a strange thing to Gimli, for Legolas had been ready to burst with joy and excitement at the arrival of the elves earlier that evening. Gimli was well acquainted with Legolas's feelings for Haldir-it had been only too clear during the Fellowship's stay in Lorien-and he noticed the way Legolas's eyes had rarely diverted from watching Haldir as the Guardian and Aragorn had discussed the keep's defense. But now, here he was, frowning and sighing.

"What is it, lad?" Gimli asked.

Legolas grimaced. "Haldir."

"I thought you were glad to see him," Gimli ventured.

"More than glad," Legolas replied. "His appearance gave me hope."

"Is that all you felt when you saw him?" Gimli asked.

Legolas exhaled heavily. "No . . . I was . . . I was overjoyed. You know that I had not believed he would live. And when Gandalf refused to give us any assurances, I feared the worst. And now he is here, and he is well, and I want the chance to make amends for the past. Yet, we are about to go into battle, and he will not permit me to fight beside him. I had forgotten how vexing he can be."

Gimli was slightly amused that Legolas should find another elf to be a cause of vexation. He had imagined that a single dwarf companion would make other irritants pale in comparison.

"No more vexing than any other elf," Gimli replied light-heartedly. "But what do you mean about making amends for the past? Are you feeling guilty for leaving him behind in Lorien?"

"It goes back much further than that, Gimli," Legolas replied, and his voice was filled with sadness. "He is the best elf I have ever known, and I have never been good to him, not the way I should have been."

"I can not believe that," Gimli said.

"It is true," Legolas said, his voice a near-whisper.

It pained Gimli to see Legolas upset, so he offered cheerfully, "If he will not have you fight beside him, you can fight beside me. I would be glad to have you nearby."

Legolas smiled wanly. "I will fight beside you and be honored to do so." He paused. "I have missed him, Gimli. I have never loved anyone in the way I love him. And yet, when I went to talk to him, he was cool . . . distant."

"He fears for you." Gimli spoke as if it were the plainest of things. "During the fighting, he does not want to be a distraction."

"He told me the opposite. He said that I would take his attention away from his warriors," Legolas countered. "He made it sound as if I would be the distraction."

"Wouldn't you be? Listen to yourself, lad. You just said you love him, and it is impossible that the feeling is not returned. Does it not seem likely that you would both be mutual distractions?"

"We are elves. We are able to keep our focus on the task at hand."

"Really?" Gimli snorted in humor. "You don't seem to be too focused at the moment, Master Elf."

Legolas managed a more genuine smile, and his eyes shifted slightly upwards towards the parapet of the deeping wall. "Haldir has a way of making everything go out of focus."

Gimli caught the direction of Legolas's gaze and followed it with his own: Haldir was checking his elves' positions, their equipment, their spirits, bringing encouragement and confidence. Gimli turned and studied Legolas's expression. Here were the telling emotions: deep longing, verging on desperation. The pain of a forced isolation, a banishment from the side of the one with whom he most desired to be. And the confusion wrought by that banishment. There was something here that surpassed the love of friendship. And it struck Gimli suddenly and undeniably what it was that he was observing: it was the love between two warriors-an agape that could no more be denied than diminished. It was incredible to Gimli that he had not identified it sooner. He pat Legolas on the arm, and his voice was one of surety, "Something tells me you will still end up fighting beside him."

---

Lothlorien

A week off. Legolas had been looking forward to the break, but now he was counting the hours until the patrol would go back on duty. The reason was simple: he had not had a moment with Haldir since the patrol arrived back at Caras Galadhon. And his last conversation with his captain had been very one-sided, mostly Haldir scolding him relentlessly about carelessness and how pleased the enemy would be to find elven weapons lying about for the taking. And yet, Haldir's ire had not upset Legolas in the least. Truthfully, Legolas had felt contrition for his forgetfulness, but the moment of spying on Haldir and Ardamil at the river more than compensated for any reprimand, for now Legolas knew where he stood with Haldir. At least, he had thought he knew where he stood. And when he had returned to Caras Galadhon, it was with a sense of smugness, a certainty that his captain was fond of him; but that smugness had quickly dwindled down to a shadow as the days passed with no sign of Haldir, until it was transformed into agitation and impatience.

Legolas learned from Orophin that Haldir had gone out on a hike with Ardamil and was not expected back until the day before the patrol went back on duty. And being that Legolas had honestly expected Haldir to resume his challenge during their time-off, the news that Haldir had gone off for the entire week with an elf with whom he clearly had a deep affinity was more troubling to Legolas than Haldir's chastisement over the weapons. Legolas passed the time with the other patrol members; and although they were excellent hosts, Legolas found a persistent restlessness pulsing through his veins. And it was not until the patrol's first formation upon resuming their duties that the restlessness subsided, if only very slightly.

Being back in Haldir's presence had the dualistic effect of both soothing and increasing Legolas's agitation. Soothing, for the simple comfort of Haldir's physical presence. Increasing, due to the fact that Legolas had built up in his own mind the insistence that he could expect more from Haldir, yet Haldir was not reacting as anticipated.

Legolas watched Haldir's interaction with Ardamil, but there was nothing to be seen there except the usual kindness and joy that the two had always exhibited in each other's company.

After first formation, Haldir led his patrol outside the gates of Caras Galadhon and across the Anduin to the field where he had chased Melthea. During the trek, Legolas maneuvered himself next to Ardamil.

"How was your hike?" he asked, his voice one of pleasant interest.

Ardamil gave Legolas a sideways glance. The Prince of Mirkwood could not disguise his anxiety over the thing, no matter how hard he tried. "It was very relaxing," he replied with a grin.

"I would have thought, after spending six weeks wandering all over the land that you would want to spend your free time doing anything but hiking," Legolas posed.

"It is different when one is alone with Haldir," Ardamil replied. "Our hike was for pleasure, not duty. It was peaceful."

Legolas did not know what to say, but Ardamil had no intention of being cruel.

"He will take you with him one of these weeks, and you will see what I mean," Ardamil went on.

Legolas was coy. "I think he will never want to take me with him after what happened with my weapons. He was very angry."

Ardamil chuckled. "He will take you, Legolas." Then, after a pause, he added in a more serious voice, "And you will be happy when he does." He turned and faced Legolas directly. "He will be happy, too."

---

Upon reaching the meadow, Haldir removed his quiver, then unclasped his cloak and set it aside. "Pair up," he announced. "Hand-to-hand drills."

Legolas turned to Mythis, next to whom he was now standing, but Haldir reached out, took firm hold of the strap of Legolas's quiver and tugged him back in his direction. "No slouching today, Greenleaf. You are with me."

Mythis smirked. "That is very good, Nikerym. You take the only partner I have a chance of beating."

Haldir sent a warning glance in Mythis's direction. "If you are not careful, you will be next." Then he looked at Legolas. "Besides, there may be more to our good Mirkwood cousin than we know of. We may yet be surprised."

Legolas's expression was one of droll humor. "Are you trying to intimidate me with all this talk?"

"Where did you learn such arrogance?" Haldir's question was rhetorical and meant in fun. Legolas did not hesitate to respond in kind.

"I have been reminded daily by my fellow warriors that I have the best teacher in all of Lorien overseeing my activities. I would be dishonest if I said that I am not trying to imitate you in all things," he said.

"I see." Haldir looked as if he were enjoying this exchange very much, and the members of his patrol had their attention focused on the tit-for-tat. "You shall never approach me in arrogance until you have equaled me in ability."

"I have already shown myself to be a willing student," Legolas countered. "Teach me and I will learn."

"Very well, then." Haldir turned to the rest of the patrol. "Get to it, a good bit of sparring." He then resumed his attentions to Legolas, who was removing his quiver. "When you first arrived, you told me you were not very good at hand-to-hand. Do you still hold to that estimation of your skill?"

Legolas was honest. "Yes. I have not much experience with it."

Haldir nodded thoughtfully. "Then I will test you first to see where our lesson should begin." He added with a quirky smile. "I will not hurt you." With that, he threw out a backhanded slice that Legolas parried very well. But just as quickly, he had spun around and with the opposite hand, made contact with Legolas's neck where it met the collarbone, drawing back on the force of the blow at the last instant, so that only a light touch fell there. But he did not stop at that. From there, he flew behind Legolas, wrapped one arm around his neck and with the other, held tight one of his wrists, twisting it up behind his back. He was very impressed when Legolas stepped back to knock him off balance in order to throw him. Haldir had long learned how to overcome such a tactic, but he permitted Legolas to succeed. He landed on his back and Legolas pounced on him as if to deliver a knock-out blow; but if the Prince of Mirkwood were entertaining any thought that his victory would be an easy one, Haldir's next move made him reconsider. Legolas had seen Haldir in action before. He had seen the body hidden beneath the clothing. He knew that Haldir was strong, but he'd had no idea just how strong until that strength was being used against him. As Haldir managed to strong-arm him from his dominant position through the use of muscle alone, Legolas began to revisit his appreciation for Haldir's prowess. And when he found himself being slowly driven down under Haldir's rather formidable weight, he began to wonder if, in fact, he had overestimated even his own meager abilities.

The sound of Haldir's voice in his ear caught him by surprise. "I have it on good authority that you believed that I was partaking in the activities of the dark rooms at Wayfare."

Legolas was mortified. His body stiffened as his struggles ceased, but Haldir urged him on, "Don't stop fighting. I did not say that so you would stop fighting."

"I-cannot believe-Lostilsil-told you that!" Legolas gasped between breaths, as he renewed his resistance, his efforts aided perhaps slightly by the perturbation he was feeling towards Lostilsil.

"It was not Lostilsil," Haldir replied, "Although I would be curious how he came to know of it." He was silent for a moment as he grappled to pin Legolas, then when he had him down flat on his stomach, he spoke again. "It was Enthamis."

"That-was very good-of him," Legolas said with noticeable sarcasm, as he fought to push up onto his knees or roll to one side, anything to dislodge Haldir.

"He meant no harm by it," Haldir replied. "He had entertained the same concern."

"And that does not make you angry?"

"No, it does not make me angry coming from either of you," Haldir said, sounding almost amused. He was tightening his hold on Legolas. "If it had been one of my more experienced warriors, then it would have been terribly upsetting. They know me better than to even imagine I would do such a thing." With a sudden powerful contraction of his limbs, he put an effective end to all of Legolas's struggling. "But you and Enthamis are to be excused. You could not know." He stood up from his victory. "Although I might have expected Enthamis to have formed some higher opinion of me by now."

Legolas got to his feet and turned to face him. "I feel foolish for having suspected it of you."

"Do not concern yourself with it any further," Haldir replied. "You have much more important things to worry about, not the least of which is how to conduct hand-to-hand combat. You really are very deficient, Legolas."

"Yes, I am aware of that," Legolas replied calmly. "I leave it to you to improve my skills."

"And I shall," Haldir said assuredly. "You have some strength in you; we shall improve upon that. But I am afraid you will never have a powerful build, so you must concentrate on speed and agility, anticipation of your opponent's moves, and a better coordination of your own."

"That sounds like quite a project," Legolas frowned, discouraged by Haldir's assessment.

"Not really. You have the proper spirit for it," Haldir said with confidence. "Come then, let's have another go."

They engaged again, and this time, Haldir gave instruction as they fought. Legolas hung on every word and did as he was told; and although these sessions marked his first time in full physical contact with Haldir, they were distinctly different from the unplanned wrestling matches which Legolas so long for. Here, Haldir's purpose was clearly to improve Legolas's skills, although he combined business-like efficiency with light-hearted ribbing. The wrestling matches represented something else altogether.

Nearly an hour passed before Haldir called a halt to the training. He went to the bank of the Anduin and splashed the cool water onto his face. Legolas hunkered down beside him and did the same.

"Orophin told me you went hiking during our week off," Legolas ventured.

"That is true," Haldir replied. "There is a very beautiful trail a day's travel to the south up in the plateaus. It offers several fine prospects to the north and west. It is a very pleasant trip."

Legolas tried to sound casual. "I had thought you might have wanted to finish what you started on the riverbank."

Haldir grinned. "And you would like that, wouldn't you?"

Legolas laughed with uncertainty. "I'm not sure anymore. Before, I at least had some hope that I might beat you, but now I think that I was being optimistic."

"You were being optimistic," Haldir replied. "But I do not discourage optimism. I only discourage foolhardiness." He straightened up. "How long will you stay in Lorien?"

"Some months, at least," Legolas replied. "Why?"

"It will take more than 'some' months to properly train you," Haldir replied. "I am wondering how much effort I should put into the attempt, if you are not to stay for any reasonable duration."

Legolas rose. "Would I be out of place to say that I desire that you give me your full effort? I will stay for whatever duration you deem appropriate," he said earnestly.

"That is rashly spoken, Legolas," Haldir noted. "You have only been here for a matter of weeks; you may feel differently as more weeks go by. And I also believe your father has some say in the matter."

"He will not protest if it is something I truly desire," Legolas replied. "And I can not imagine my feelings taking such a drastic turn, even in the course of many years, that I would suddenly decide that I no longer wanted to be in the patrol."

"You can not stay in the patrol forever, Legolas," Haldir said. "That was never the intent of your visit, and you are well aware of that."

"But I might stay for some time," Legolas insisted, then he added in a tentative, almost shy manner, "Long enough to-to . . . to become one of you."

Haldir regarded Legolas thoughtfully; and although he could hear Ardamil's voice in the back of his mind, warning him to exercise caution, looking at Legolas, he could discern nothing to warrant such concern - or even if he had found something, he was prepared to overlook it in exchange for the combination of gentleness and fire that beamed back at him from the face of the Mirkwood prince. Yes, there was admiration and longing in Legolas's face, but Haldir had seen that before - many times and from many different elves. And rarely had Haldir been mistaken in his selections; and those few times when he had been in error, the difficulties had been fairly resolved.

Haldir nodded slowly. "Very well," he said. "Perhaps you will stay for a good while. We shall see how things progress."

---

By the time the patrol returned to Caras Galadhon, it was evening-the sort of cool, fair twilight that follows upon a cloudless day. Legolas was grateful for the crispness in the air, for it worked upon and livened his senses, which, along with his body, were quite fatigued-a condition that was becoming all too familiar to him whenever the patrol tended to some soldiering task. He would not complain, though; for an afternoon of hand-to-hand combat training with Haldir had taught him many things-not the least of which was just how formidable and dangerous an adversary Haldir could be. And how excellent a trainer he was. Haldir overlooked no detail, spared no measure of instruction or correction, and brooked no halfhearted participation from his trainee. And the truth was that Legolas had enjoyed every minute of his captain's undivided attention, even if he were now reaping the physical consequences of that attention.

As they entered the gate of the city, Haldir announced casually, "The Lord and Lady expressed a desire this morning for the honor of your presence at supper this evening."

"What?!" Legolas started, his eyes growing wide, his heart beating suddenly faster.

"You needn't worry. You are not expected for another hour," Haldir replied.

"Why did you not tell me of this sooner?" Legolas asked.

Haldir turned to regard him curiously. "Because it was not necessary. You know now, and there is ample time for you to prepare," he explained, as if it were the simplest thing in the world.

"But I am completely done in by the day's training," Legolas complained. "I shall be dull and stupid in their company. Had I known of this, I would not have permitted myself to be worked so hard."

Now, Haldir smiled. "You would have refused my training? For I would still have 'worked you so hard' even if you had been informed of tonight's engagement."

The expression of humor on Haldir's face dissipated some of Legolas's concern. "Of course, I would not have refused." He paused for a moment, then added, "I do not think it is possible for anyone to refuse you anything. Only, I would have liked to be able to attend this dinner without fear of falling asleep in the presence of the Lord and Lady. And I am feeling rather remiss, for I still have not delivered to them the gifts my father sent. My pack is still in Orophin's talan. I shall have to go fetch that, as well." Another pause. "At least, if I begin to act foolish from exhaustion, you will be there to prod me back into sensibility."

"I am not invited," Haldir replied, his eyes beaming with mirth. "You will have to rely on yourself to stay awake and alert."

"O, this is a fine thing, indeed!" Legolas cried dramatically, his voice ringing with levity. "You drill me into the ground, despite the fact that you were aware that I must dine with the Lord and Lady, and now you will not even be there to lend me any aid. Did you plan it this way?"

"By Elbereth, are all the Mirkwood princes so helpless?" Haldir asked. "You have grown up in your father's court, yet you act as if I could possibly contribute something to your bearing in such lofty places; when, in truth, is it more likely that you could teach me how to comport myself in the presence of high blood."

"Is that flattery?" Legolas asked.

"Not at all," came the sincere reply. "Come now, Legolas, you are here as a guest of Lord Celeborn. You are Thranduil's son. You did not honestly believe that you would never be called to an engagement the Lord and Lady, did you?"

Legolas was thoughtful for a long moment. "I am being ungrateful. I should feel honored to dine with Lord Celeborn and Lady Galadriel. But if you desire me to be honest, I must admit that I would rather spend the evening in other pursuits."

Haldir turned his gaze to meet that of Legolas. "I feel confident in saying that it will not be a long evening. And when it is over, you may come to my talan. I have a desire to hear you sing again - that is, if you are not too worn out from the day's training."

"I am not too tired for that," Legolas replied, grinning broadly. His lack of enthusiasm for the dining event had been suddenly transformed into anticipation: the undesired dinner transformed into the necessary step leading to more time with Haldir.

"Then I will see you later this evening. Orophin can direct you to my talan," Haldir said, patting Legolas on the shoulder. He then trotted towards the front of the column of elves and fell into step beside Ardamil, who was leading the way.

Legolas watched the two of them together, but jealousy found no place in his heart. After all, Legolas would have his time with Haldir, and at Haldir's own request. If Haldir found pleasure in Ardamil's company, that was all to the good. After all, Legolas enjoyed Ardamil's company, as well. Anything that contributed to Haldir's joy would meet with Legolas's approval.

It was at this moment that Legolas recalled the words Orophin had spoken to him at their first meeting, his assertion that there was no competing with Haldir. Orophin had insisted that Legolas would grow to understand the meaning of the words as time passed; and now, Legolas was beginning to believe that Orophin had been correct, although Legolas might have added that, while there was no competing with Haldir, nor was there any competition for him - and this held greater significance for Legolas. How was it that Haldir seemed more than able to spread his one self so evenly and fairly among his warriors? How could it be that each of them felt that they filled a special place in their captain's heart, a place reserved for each one individually, a place that would go vacant otherwise, if not for their presence there. Haldir belonged to them, collectively and individually; and they belonged to him.

The sense of yearning in Legolas's heart swelled to near bursting, for he knew that he was not yet a part of that belonging. He was accepted and well-liked, welcomed and admired - but he had not crossed the invisible threshold. Not yet. Not with the patrol, and not with Haldir. And strangely, at that moment, as he watched Haldir walking alongside Ardamil, exchanging smiles and laughter, he openly admitted to himself that he wanted nothing more than to be drawn into that belonging, to be to Haldir the very same thing that Haldir was starting to become to him.

---

Forgotten gifts . . . again.

Legolas was fully prepared to abandon any future attempts to deliver the gifts to Lord Celeborn and Lady Galadriel. He was beginning to think that he had not an ounce of sense left to him. At least his pack was now in the patrol's common talans as opposed to Orophin's private one, but much good it was doing him there, snug under his sleeping roll, while he was in the great hall, partaking in a very fine dinner in the company of the Lord and Lady and a dozen or so guests. Still, no mention of the absent gifts were made, and to own the truth, Legolas was too preoccupied with his later meeting to give much concern to his current occupation.

The only point in the evening that interested him was when Lord Celeborn inquired how he was enjoying his time in the Wide Patrol.

Legolas's response had been one of contained excitement. "I am enjoying it very much. They are an excellent group of elves. Your selection of Haldir to oversee my time here could not have made me happier."

"I am pleased to hear it," Celeborn replied. "My Lady and I both believed that you would do well under Haldir's tutelage, and that Haldir would be glad to have you in the patrol."

"I am learning many useful things," Legolas said, then he added in earnestness, "Haldir is the best elf I have ever met."

Galadriel smiled as her gaze grew distant and indistinct. "Yes, Haldir is a rare creature, even among elves," she said. Her vision refocused, concentrating on Legolas's face, and her smile wavered slightly. "He is genuinely good. You must never forget that, Legolas."

Legolas was taken aback slightly by her words, and he wondered if there were more subtle powers possessed by the Lady of the Golden Wood than those he had heard tell of. It was almost as if she were seeing something in him that gave her concern, something that had merited her gentle warning - a warning which Legolas actually resented, for if the Lady could but see truly into his heart, she would find there only respect and admiration and a friendly sort of love for Haldir. She would see that he would never do anything to damage the goodness that was Haldir, that it was impossible for him to even contemplate causing Haldir distress. Absolutely and utterly impossible.

But outwardly, Legolas replied with a gracious, "I will not forget, my Lady."

At last, the evening came to an end, much later than desired. Haldir's earlier statement that it would be a short engagement had proven to be wrong. After the meal, there had been singing and talking. Legolas had considered more than once excusing himself on some contrived reason, but his breeding forbid it; and when he was finally bidding a good night to his companions, it was with the fear that the hour was too late for him to go to Haldir's talan. Still, he would let Haldir determine if the hour was too late.

He followed the directions Orophin had given him, coming to the western outskirts of Caras Galadhon. Here, high up in the branches of an aspiring melyrn, Haldir's talan sat far removed from the center of life in the great Elven city. It was a long climb from the forest floor to the flet upon which rested Haldir's home; the first part of the ascent being a spiral staircase circling around the great girth of the melyrn's trunk, the latter part being a rope ladder that disappeared up into the reaches of darkness, punctuated by pinpricks of lantern light.

Legolas climbed quickly, each step increasing his anticipation and quickening the pulsation of his heart. As he drew closer, images of curved lines and flowing lengths of balustrade began to emerge from the darkness. A small dot of light flickered beside a doorway of elegant, yet simple archwork. When Legolas mounted the talan, he found himself standing opposite a structure of incredible beauty, and the first thought to enter his mind was that Haldir could not have inhabited a more suitable dwelling. Turning, he surveyed the depths of the Caras Galadhon, falling away below him. There was not another dwelling within any easy distance, giving the location a feeling of isolation. Then, facing the house again, he was startled to find Haldir now standing in the doorway.

"At last, you have made it," Haldir said with a warm smile.

Legolas did not speak right away; his senses were overwhelmed. Perhaps it was the experience of seeing Haldir in his own home for the first time, or it could have been that Legolas had grown used to seeing his captain in his standard attire of Lorien gray and silver, as opposed to the green and ivory he now wore; but whatever the reason, Legolas felt his throat close around any attempt at speech. A certain softness resided in the face gazing back at him-a softness Legolas would not have imagined possible, for he would never have been able to envision such gentleness coexisting with such strength.

If Haldir noticed Legolas's dumbfoundedness, he overlooked it. Stepping aside, he held out his arm in a gesture of welcome. "Come inside."

Legolas stepped over the threshold into a black space, with only two flickering candles flanking either side of an archway at the far end. He could sense the dimensions of the room into which he had come, which although he could tell was not very large, felt immense and close in the darkness.

Haldir shut the door. "Come," he said, placing a hand on Legolas's back and guiding him across the room to archway, where a sheer parted in the center to admit them into the living quarters. And again, Legolas was awestruck. Before him stretched a talan of elliptical shape, perhaps twenty yards long and ten yards wide. Surrounding the talan was an open space- a moat of air five yards across-bounded on the outside by an ornately carved colonnade which opened on every side to breathtaking vistas and was reachable by four bow-shaped bridges, one on each side. Above the talan and at certain places along the length of its sides hung greath lengths of thin, gossamer netting, draped canopy-like and trembling in the slight breeze. And far, far above this, a roof of woven reed stretched between boughs like a great overarching wing. It gave the place a feeling of openness, yet with privacy and security, suffused with a light of greenish hue. It was plain and yet magnificent, sparsely furnished yet resplendent. And every corner of it spoke the name of its inhabiter.

"I was beginning to think that you might not make it," Haldir said. "I know that the Lord and Lady can carry on some very entertaining events, but I did not imagine that this evening's would be one of them. Clearly, I was mistaken."

"There-there was singing afterwards." Legolas stumbled through the words, his wandering eyes torn between taking in the loveliness of the abode versus the beauty of its resident. For the moment, the abode won out, and he indulged himself with unadulterated amazement.

Seeing this, Haldir asked, "Shall I show you through my home?"

"Yes, I would like that," Legolas replied.

"This is really all there is to it . . ." Haldir replied, walking towards the center of the talan, where the trunk of the melyrn rose up through a hole in the floor, " . . . unless we go up into the roof nests, which are rarely used anymore, except for when the mood strikes me." He looked about and made a gesture here and there. "I have only the one room. There is where I sleep. That is the cooking area, although you have seen that I am no cook at all. A place for company to sit and spend time. It is all very simple," he explained.

"It is tremendous," Legolas replied, his voice filled with awe. "This-this is more beautiful than the great hall."

Haldir smiled. "I am of that opinion as well, but it would not be good of me to say so." A subdued laugh escaped his lips. "I do not believe there is a finer place in all of Caras Galadhon. Of course, I have never seen the private chambers of the Lord and Lady, so I could well be mistaken. But this is my home, and I desire no other." He led the way across one of the bridges to the colonnade. Looking down to the east, into the heart of Elvendom on Earth, the great city fell away below them in indescribable beauty.

They walked the length of the colonnade, coming at last back to the entry from the dark room. "The nests will have to wait for some other time. I am not in the mood for climbing," Haldir announced. "I am in the mood for singing, that is, unless you have strained your voice entertaining the Lord and Lady."

"I have not," Legolas replied, but he was still looking about him in wonder. "You live here alone?"

"I do," Haldir said. "It was my uncle's. I lived with him for many decades before he left for Valinor. When he left, it passed to me."

"Beautiful," Legolas breathed.

"Come, come," Haldir said pleasantly, taking hold of Legolas's elbow and guiding him to the sitting area, where a brazier was filled with glowing embers, and pillows, rugs, chairs and divans were spread about in a haphazard manner. "Sit down," he said with casual ease, as he produced a flask of clear liquid and two narrow, tapered goblets. "We have duty tomorrow, and I am sure you had something to drink at the dinner, so tonight it's nothing stronger than spring nectar."

"That is good, thank you," Legolas replied absently, dropping onto one of the oversized pillows, his gaze directed back towards the dark room, his thoughts consumed with curiosity about the room's purpose and contents. He felt a hand wrap around his wrist, and as his arm was lifted, he shifted his gaze to see Haldir place a goblet in his hand.

"I did not invite you here only to admire my home," Haldir said good-naturedly, and suddenly Legolas forgot completely about the dark room and the colonnade and all the things that had struck his fancy upon entering the house, for looking up into Haldir's expectant yet patient gaze, he became vibrantly aware that the house would have meant nothing to him were it not for the identity of its occupant. Haldir released his wrist and held up his own goblet. "Shall we make a toast?"

Legolas raised his goblet.

"To the patrol," Haldir proposed.

"To its captain," Legolas replied, for which he was rewarded when a pleased grin spread across Haldir's face.

The goblets clinked together, and the two elves drank. Haldir sat down on the rug across from Legolas and leaned back against the divan. "How was the dinner?" he asked.

"It was delicious," Legolas replied.

"You said there was singing afterwards?"

Legolas nodded. "It was all very nice, but I wished for your company." It was an honest admission, and Legolas was not afraid to own it.

Again, Haldir made no attempt to disguise the pleasure this remark evoked in him. "I would have been happy to accompany you, but the invitation did not include me, and I can not very well invite myself to such a function. There will be other opportunities."

"It would have been much more interesting had you been there," Legolas went on. "I would have liked to hear you sing." A pause. "But I would be just as happy to hear you sing now."

"I believe things are the other way around. I am the one who wanted to hear you sing," Haldir replied.

"And you shall," Legolas replied, taking a sip from his goblet. "But will you not follow my song with one of your own?"

"Not tonight, Legolas," Haldir replied. "Tonight I desire only to listen and be at peace. I do not wish to make any exertion."

Legolas inclined his head in concession. "I do have a song in mind that I think you will enjoy hearing."

"I am ready to listen whenever you are ready to sing," Haldir said.

"Are you in a hurry?"

Haldir gave a one-sided smile. "Not at all. I had nothing else planned for this night-other than sleep."

"Then perhaps we can talk a bit," Legolas said hopefully.

"As long as it does not involve too much energy," Haldir replied.

"You can tell me if it does."

"That is fair. What shall we talk about?"

Legolas did not hesitate. "Orophin told me that your parents have gone to the Undying Lands," he said. "I asked him why you and your brothers didn't go with them."

"What did he tell you?" Haldir asked.

"He didn't say anything," he replied, then added slowly, "Only that he and Rumil did not want to leave you."

"He told you the truth," came the reply.

"Why did you stay?"

"My parents wanted me to stay. My uncle was staying, and they wanted me to stay with him, to continue my learning. And the truth was that I wanted to stay as well. Orophin and Rumil did not want to leave me." He paused and drew in a deep breath. "They have loved me more than I have deserved, in spite of the hurt it has caused them."

Legolas was baffled. "I don't understand. What hurt has it caused them?"

"My parents wanted Rumil and Orophin to go with them to Valinor. They were unhappy with my brothers' decision to stay, but they honored that decision and did not force them to leave. When my uncle left half a century ago, my brothers were hopeful that we would all go with him and be reunited with our parents." He hesitated, searching for the words. "But I could not leave here. I have no desire to leave Middle Earth. I feel I am still . . . of some use here. Rumil and Orophin could not leave me. They have stayed with me and endured separation from our parents. So, you can understand why I love them so."

Legolas was dumbstruck into silence for a moment. At length, he asked, "Why did your parents leave? They could have stayed."

"I do not know," Haldir replied honestly. "It was their decision. Many of our people have been leaving Middle Earth over the years. Whatever their reasons were, they did not discuss them with us.

"Are you-were your parents angry with Orophin and Rumil?"

"No, they were sad, but I think they were proud of how much my brothers and I meant to each other. Still . . . I know Orophin and Rumil miss them." A brief silence. "I miss them, too. I have often felt guilty about my brothers, and I believe that is why they take such prodigious care of me, to show me that they hold nothing against me."

"It is more than that," Legolas replied. "You said they love you more than you deserve, but love isn't something that is earned. It is freely given. They have many reasons to love you, but they would love you just as much if those reasons did not exist. You are their brother."

Haldir smiled. "You are right," he said simply, once again ending a touchy subject on his own terms with a mere change in his inflection. He drained his goblet. "Now, it is my turn. Tell me what it is like to be a Prince of Mirkwood."

A grin formed on Legolas's lips. "At the moment, it is very satisfying."

"And at other moments?"

"It . . . it has its merits," Legolas replied. "Sometimes it is exciting, and sometimes it is dull. My father is a good king. My brothers are good brothers. But there is nothing in Mirkwood like the Wide Patrol. There is no Mythis, no Lostilsil or Ardamil, no Maynfeln, and there is no Nikerym Haldir. My eight weeks here have been more exciting than anything that has passed before."

"That is only because it is new to you," Haldir replied.

Legolas shook his head with serene certainty. "No, you are wrong, Haldir. There is not a member of your patrol who would say life here is boring or without excitement, and the patrol is nothing new to them." He paused for only an instant to contemplate his next probing assertion. "There is something here that keeps them fulfilled, something that brings meaning to their lives. I have my thoughts on what that something is."

"I am sure you do," Haldir replied. "And you are right: the patrol is content. Aluvater has been good to me in giving me such warriors."

Legolas sighed. Either Haldir was the most humble, the most obtuse, or the most dissembling elf in Middle Earth, for at every turn, he was dodging Legolas's attempts to pin down what it was about him that seemed to cause others to gravitate towards him. And, clearly, Haldir was not going to be any more forthcoming this evening than he had on any other occasion, and so Legolas yielded without pursuit. "Yes, I believe He has," he agreed, then he, too, finished off his nectar. "Are you ready to hear me sing?"

Haldir gave a nod.

Legolas settled into a comfortable position, clasped his hands together in his lap, and lowering his eyes to the floor, he began to sing. From the first moment, Haldir's attention was fully focused, for Legolas was singing in the ancient tongue the song which Haldir had sung on that first night at the fountain. The song had burned its melody in Legolas's head, and he had worked hard during the six weeks on patrol with Haldir and the one week of rest to master the words; and now, as he closed his eyes and lifted his voice, he pictured behind his closed lids the images of which the song spoke: Irmo the Vala, his gardens in Valinor, and his coming into Arda to do the will of Aluvater.

When he had finished, he slowly raised his eyes to see Haldir regarding him fixedly with an expression that Legolas had never seen on his captain's face before. He was not even sure how to define it, as it seemed to fluctuate along a range of emotions.

At last, Haldir managed to speak haltingly. "I-I have not heard that song sung-by anyone other than myself-for over fifty years, before my uncle. . . " He could not continue and looked away.

"I told you I wanted to learn the language, and that my desire was in earnest," Legolas replied, baffled by Haldir's reaction.

Haldir glanced briefly at him then got to his feet. He turned and seemed to move aimlessly until his path led him over one of the bridges to the colonnade, where he stood looking out to the west, where the woods of Lorien were cast in colors of blue and gray under the moonlight.

Legolas came and stood beside him. "I have upset you?" he asked.

Haldir swallowed with effort, then turned and faced him. "Far from it. You-you do not know what it means for me to hear someone else singing that song. Other than my uncle, you are the only one I have ever heard sing it. It somehow makes me feel . . . less alone."

"Alone?" Legolas had an overwhelming urge to touch him, but he refrained. He hardly recognized the Haldir standing beside him, and yet, this new facet felt familiar and correct. And to Legolas, it made Haldir seem more reachable. "You are hardly alone."

"Perhaps 'alone' isn't the right word," Haldir replied. "Different."

Legolas looked at him in the pale blue moonlight, the image of stunning beauty, and the words of Galadriel came to his mind: 'he is genuinely good.'

"You are different," he said in a soft, sincere voice. "But no one would want you to be any other way."

Haldir regarded him in silence for a moment, then he asked, "Will you sing it again?"

Legolas nodded slowly.

"Now," Haldir prompted.

"And whenever you wish it," Legolas replied.

He began to sing.

"Legolas."

Legolas felt a hand on his arm. He opened his eyes to see Haldir on one knee beside him. He sat up where he had fallen asleep on the floor in Haldir's talan. A pale light filled the air around them. It was morning.

Haldir held out a steaming cup of sweet-smelling liquid and a square of crewel cake. "Good morning."

Legolas accepted the cup and cake. "Good morning," he replied, noticing that Haldir was completely dressed in his warrior garb. Today, the patrol was setting out again. Legolas smiled at the thought.

"A little something to help wake you up," Haldir said, nodding at the food. "You still have to go back to the patrol's talans, change into uniform and get your equipment."

"I asked Lostilsil to help me prepare everything yesterday evening before the dinner, since I only had an hour after we returned from training," Legolas replied.

"Then you had better hurry with that breakfast, so we can be on our way," Haldir said. "I am afraid we will both be late, as it is. I let you sleep later than I should have."

Legolas drained the cup in one draught and devoured the cake in two bites. "I don't even remember falling asleep," he said, getting to his feet.

Haldir grinned. "You were very tired," he said. "But that should have come as no surprise to you. You've seen what those songs do to me. It's amazing to watch it happen to someone else." He slung his pack over one shoulder. "We must hurry."

"Aren't you forgetting something?" Legolas asked.

Haldir raised an inquiring eyebrow.

"Your morning prayer," Legolas replied, then seeing Haldir's expression waver and grow soft, he added, "While we were on patrol, you said it every morning at sunrise." A pause. "I noticed."

Haldir regarded Legolas, and he was not sure what to say, for never before had anyone shown such an interest in the prayers, in learning the ancient language . . . and Haldir had certainly not expected Legolas to be the one to do so. It was a strange sensation that crept up Haldir's spine, as he began to consider that he might have been misjudging the Prince of Mirkwood all along. Could it be that Legolas was not doing these things in order to impress Haldir, but rather because he felt drawn to the beauty and mystery that formed the basis for Haldir's life? Did Legolas recognize and empathize with the truth of whom and what Haldir was?

At last, Haldir stated, "It is past sunrise."

"You have already said it, then," Legolas replied. His face took on a hopeful and resolute expression. "Would you say it again, if I say it with you?"

After several seconds, during which Haldir could not find his voice, he responded with a nod. And to his amazement, Legolas did not wait for him to begin, but spoke the opening words himself. Haldir joined him halfway through the first verse, but his voice refused to bend itself to his control, and he could barely form the words. Something very powerful was happening to him, threatening his carefully guarded self-control.

Legolas was touching his soul.

---

Ardamil saw Haldir approaching, and right away the subaltern could see that something of significance had transpired for his captain. And the fact that Legolas had not yet arrived at the patrol's gathering point raised as many questions as it answered in Ardamil's mind.

Haldir came to Ardamil directly and greeted him as always, but Ardamil could sense an increase in joy, which he would not have believed possible for Haldir, for his captain had always been of happy disposition. Still, the increase in vibrancy was too real, too palpable to be mistaken fancy. Ardamil drew back from the greeting, but kept a firm hold on Haldir's arms.

"You are late," he said with no inflection to identify the statement as anything other than an observation.

Haldir's face beamed with contentedness. "It is a well-earned lateness," he replied.

Ardamil stared deeply into his eyes, studied his countenance. "What has happened?"

Haldir looked back at him and bent his arms to clasp Ardamil at the elbows. "Something miraculous. But there is no time now. I will tell you later." Then, seeing the apprehension in Ardamil's gaze, he added, "It is good news, Ardamil. Your worries were unfounded."

"My worries?" Ardamil asked.

"About Legolas," Haldir replied, then he squeezed Ardamil's elbows, broke away, and began to survey the rest of the patrol for readiness.

Ardamil drew a heavy breath as he watched Haldir's progress through the patrol. After several minutes, Legolas arrived, looking harried but also sporting the same blissful expression that Haldir was wearing. Ardamil fought down the uneasiness he felt building inside him. He had had reason in the past to fear for his captain's tender heart, but why he should be so wary of Legolas was something he could not quite fathom. The fact was that Ardamil was very fond of Legolas and liked him a great deal. And he felt confident that Legolas would never willingly do anything to injure Haldir, and yet . . . it would not be the first time that Ardamil's instincts had failed him. It would not be the first time that Haldir had received poor treatment at the hands of those he had trusted and loved. But Ardamil had made a promise to himself that, if it were ever within his power, he would do everything possible to spare Haldir any further harm or pain.

But what if Legolas presented no threat? What if Ardamil were being too guarded in his desire to protect Haldir? This, itself, was a distressing thought; for if Ardamil, in his attempt to deflect any injury to his captain, instead drove away an elf who had the ability to reach Haldir in a way no one else could, who had the ability to increase an already overflowing happiness, then Ardamil might never be able to forgive himself for having acted rashly and overstepping his boundaries. He resolved to give it some more time, to observe how things went in the patrol.

Unexpectedly, he heard a voice next to him. "You look pensive." Turning, he saw Orophin standing beside him.

"I am trying not to make a great mistake," he replied.

"That sounds intriguing," Orophin remarked. "A great mistake about what?"

Ardamil was long in answering. At last, he said, "The most important thing in the world to me."

"Haldir?" Orophin grinned.

"You know me all too well," Ardamil replied, also managing a smile.

"What is it that you fear?" Orophin asked.

"Are you to have all my secrets?" Ardamil answered with a question of his own.

Orophin laughed. "If I can draw them out of you."

"This one you shall not draw, for I am not even sure of it myself," Ardamil replied, and the thoughtfulness returned to his features. In the sanctuary of his own mind, the words followed soundlessly, "I only know that I do not want to see him go through this again." And he was willing to do whatever was necessary to protect his captain.

---

The patrol's journey led them, this time, to the southwest, close to the Rohan. The first three weeks were carried out under a clear sky with only a few high wisps of cloud to break up the blue that stretched from horizon to horizon. The first day of the fourth week, thunderheads could be glimpsed far off to the west beyond the plains of Rohan. When the patrol split up for its third and final foray into different towns, it was in the face of these approaching storms, and Legolas was once again with Haldir, as he had been on every previous excursion.

It did not go unnoticed by members of the patrol the amount of time Haldir spent with Legolas, teaching him the ancient language, honing archery skills, developing his ability to empathize with his surroundings, talking quietly, or simply being next to each other but without activity. Nor did they miss the sense of contentedness the two had in each other's company. Something had changed . . .

. . . and Ardamil was still waiting for the explanation of that "something" as he set out in Haldir's group on that fourth week. He had been very patient and not pushed Haldir for information, but the more he saw of his captain and the Mirkwood Prince together, the greater his concern became, for he was absolutely convinced that he was seeing a motive in Legolas's actions that Haldir was not seeing. It was not a wicked or devious thing; in fact, it was quite the opposite-a fondness and affection that went beyond mere camaraderie, though how much further, Ardamil was as yet unable to ascertain.

It was not until the second night of the last foray that Ardamil's concern reached a level at which point he could not pretend to ignore it. The group was encamped in the forest at the foot of a rising plateau, upon which several settlements of the Rohirrim lay only a few hours' journey.

In addition to Haldir, Ardamil and Legolas, the band of elves boasted Mythis, Maynfeln, Henschel and Orophin. By any standard, it was a lively group and given to much competition. Even so, Ardamil was surprised when Haldir picked the second night as the setting for Legolas's informal induction into the patrol. Usually, Haldir chose an opportunity in front of the entire patrol. His decision to take Legolas on in the confines of the smaller group struck Ardamil as a sign of anxiousness. Haldir's earlier expressions of reserve and skepticism had all but disappeared.

The evening had started off innocently enough-lembas, miruvoir, and a story from Henschel, who had one of the funniest wits Legolas had ever encountered. After that, Haldir had called for a song and specifically selected Ardamil as the performer.

Legolas sat with bated breath, for he had heard from more than one quarter that Ardamil's voice was unequalled, not only within the patrol, but throughout most of Lorien.

And he was not disappointed.

Ardamil's voice was a gift of the highest order, a grace the Valar must have bestowed upon him: clear, brilliant, and filled with passion. The song he chose was in one of the tongues of men.

'Mist kissed by moonlight, silver snow, Gossamer dancers from long, long ago Whirl to melodies the four winds blow.

The mist lifts, it rises into the night. Earth's chandelier casts its blue light. They come two-by-two, O! what a sight!

Their music from Heaven, the skies rain down, Never before has there been such a sound. They follow where it leads them, round and round.

Be careful where you step, The night is spirit-bound. Disturb not their gaiety, For in their dance is found The answer to the march of days And sweet, forgotten love, The goodness of all that dwells In the light of that above.

The dancers, they vanish each one by one. The morning is borrowing its way to the sun. And when all is over, their work shall be done.'

Legolas could not believe that anything in Middle Earth could possess such a stunning voice. As he listened, his attention was rapt upon Ardamil, who seemed to grow in stature and grace as he sang. When the song was over, Legolas beamed with excitement. "That was tremendous!" he raved. "You must sing more often, Ardamil!"

Ardamil gave a humble smile.

Legolas looked to Haldir to share his enthusiasm, but Haldir was still staring at Ardamil with wonderment. Legolas winked at Ardamil playfully. "I think you have put our captain into a trance."

Haldir, hearing this, spoke distinctly. "You are disturbing my admiration."

Legolas detected the subtle challenge in Haldir's voice, and he responded willingly. "My apologies," he replied, his voice underpinned by a provocative inflection. "I would never want to disturb any pleasure of yours."

Haldir cast a wry, sideways glance at him. "Is that so?"

"Without question."

Haldir rose to his feet, his attention now fully diverted from Ardamil to Legolas. "Then I desire the pleasure of engaging you in a wrestling match."

Legolas was stunned with the suddenness of the request. The thing he had been waiting for was now being offered him, and he could hardly believe it. He got slowly to his feet, reveling in his good fortune. "Gladly."

To Ardamil, it was scanty incitement; in fact, no incitement at all. There had been no true grounds upon which Haldir could draw Legolas into a match; Haldir had simply decided that he had waited long enough to bring Legolas into the fold. And yet, Haldir's simple desire sufficed for Legolas.

As the rest of the patrol looked on, Haldir bared himself to the waist, and Legolas followed. In a matter of seconds, they were engaged.

It was a one-sided contest, as Legolas could barely concentrate on what he was doing, so intoxicating was the struggle against Haldir: the power in his captain's hands as they grabbed and held, the solidness and poise of his body, the sounds of exertion as Haldir made an impressive show of claiming what was his through subjugation of his opponent, although he followed the contest with no show of physical affection as he had done countless other times with the other members of his patrol.

But it was what happened once Legolas had been pinned and ceased fighting that piqued Ardamil's concern . Legolas, soundly defeated, wrapped his fingers around Haldir's forearms. When Haldir attempted to get up, Legolas tightened his grip, preventing his captain from rising. Haldir did not resist him, but instead settled the full length of his body on top of Legola's slighter form. Their faces were very close together; and visible in Legolas's was the unabashed desire that such a moment would never end. There was longing in Legolas's eyes, a hopeful-almost urgent-expectation of some exchange of deeper intimacy.

Even as Haldir, glowing with the effulgence of a contented heart, gently freed himself from Legolas's grasp without having responded in any outwardly manner to Legolas's unspoken wish, the whole scene struck Ardamil as an unwilling relinquishment on the part of the Mirkwood prince. Legolas wanted Haldir, wanted him very much and in so many different ways that it was impossible to distinguish one from the next. And it was this desire that frightened Ardamil. It frightened him terribly. He would not watch it again; he would not see his captain-his closest and dearest friend-suffer once more the anguish that accompanied virtue.

---

The night prayer was Legolas's favorite. And this night it held special significance, for following upon this, his long awaited acceptance as one of Haldir's own, the speaking of the words in union with Haldir represented an affirmation of the bond that had been forged earlier that evening.

Since setting out from Caras Galadhon, Legolas had accompanied Haldir every morning, noon, and night in the recitation of the prayers. His fluency in the Ancient Language had grown such that he could even lead one or two of the prayers. He would lead the prayer this night.

As was his practice, Haldir went some short distance away from the rest of the patrol, and Legolas went with him. When Haldir dropped to one knee, Legolas did the same; but before Haldir could begin the words, Legolas spoke.

"I would like to lead," he announced.

Haldir made a gesture of concession.

Legolas began the prayer, and Haldir joined him. When they had finished, Haldir reached out and touched Legolas's shoulder. "You bring me great joy," he said with sincerity.

"I can see that," Legolas replied. "That is my intention."

"You are succeeding," Haldir grinned. "I think I have taken an extraordinary student under my wing."

"There is no other place I would rather be," came the reply.

They walked back to the camp to find the rest of the patrol gathered around a low fire.

Haldir noticed immediately that Ardamil was not present. "Where is Ardamil?" he asked, his senses leaping to the alert.

"He has the first watch, so he is out checking the surroundings," Mythis replied.

This struck Haldir as odd. Ardamil was already familiar with these woods; the patrol had camped here many times. It was more certain that Ardamil was distressed over some matter, and Haldir had a vague idea what that matter might be. But Ardamil had never been one to seek out solitude, and the fact that he was doing so now was indication to Haldir that something was amiss.

"I will return," he said, turning to head back into the dark. He did not have to go far to find Ardamil, for the latter had gone only as far as the edge of the wood, where he now stood looking out over the darkened slope of the land to the east.

Haldir came up behind him and wrapped his arms about the subaltern's shoulders, holding him close in an affectionate manner. "My songbird, you have been very serious lately."

Ardamil savored the feeling of his captain's arms around him, even as he fought to suppress the uneasiness in his heart. "I have been observant," he replied.

"You have always been observant," Haldir noted.

"I am trying to discern the answer to a question that I asked at the patrol's outset but which you still have not answered," Ardamil said, and although he spoke lightheartedly, in truth, the subject had been wearing on him since the day the patrol had left Caras Galadhon.

Haldir tightened his embrace. "What question is that?"

"You still have not told me of the miraculous occurrence that has resulted in such an increase in your joy," Ardamil replied.

Haldir laughed quietly. "Perhaps you are not so observant as I thought."

"Shall I tell you what I have observed?" Ardamil asked, then without waiting for an answer, he continued. "I have observed that Legolas is grown infatuated with you, and that you receive his attentions readily and with enthusiasm."

Again, Haldir laughed. "Oh Ardamil, my dear Ardamil, is that all you see?"

"Tell me what I should be seeing, Nikerym," Ardamil replied.

Haldir released Ardamil and turned him so that the two were face-to-face. Haldir's voice was low and intense. "He is learning the songs, Ardamil! He is learning the prayers, the ancient language. He is the first one to ever show such a desire!"

Ardamil stared back at his captain for several long seconds. This was not the response he had expected. Haldir's voice rang with an expression of hope, but Ardamil was skeptical of such hope - or if it were a well-founded hope, it was likely coming too late in the day, for it was clear that the elves' time in Middle Earth was drawing towards its end. How many centuries remained? Or was their time measured in decades only?

"You think Legolas might follow your path?" he asked as last.

Haldir's face was lit with anticipation. "I think it is possible."

Ardamil chose his next words carefully. "Does he know your path, Haldir? Does he know what it would entail?"

"I have not told him, and I do not think anyone else has either, for he has made no mention of it," Haldir replied. "But he shows a natural inclination." Seeing Ardamil's unconvinced expression, he tried harder. "His interest can not be denied."

Ardamil sighed deeply. Lowering his eyes, he shook his head. "No, Haldir, his interest can not be denied. But I fear you are misreading that interest. Haldir, yours is a difficult life-" then, as Haldir made to speak, he pressed with feeling, "There are few elves who could accept such a commitment. You want him to become what you are, but I-I do not believe that is his intention."

Haldir took a step back, a faint coldness descending upon his features. "And what do you believe his intention is?"

Ardamil raised his eyes. "To be close to you."

"And why should that bother you, Ardamil?" Haldir asked. "You are close to me, closer than anyone other than my brothers. Do you not wish to make room for another? Or can you not see that it just may be that Legolas's desire to be close to me stems from his attraction to the things he sees in my life?"

"Haldir, he does not know!" Ardamil persisted. "He hears the songs and says the prayers and speaks the language with you, but he does not know what he would have to sacrifice in order to follow your path!" He drew back to gather his wits. "And he-he does not know what he would have to sacrifice in order to love you."

A moment of silence passed, then Haldir stated in a quiet voice, "You love me."

"And I have sacrificed much, as you well know, Haldir, because it only possible to love you on your terms," Ardamil replied. "It is not possible for you any other way, and I am able to accept that. All of us have accepted it or else we would no longer be in the patrol. Do you think Legolas could make such sacrifices? Do you think he could live an eternity without the experience of desire? Or even worse, do you think he could live an eternity desiring someone he can never have? Do you think it that easy for the rest of us? No one is immune to you, Haldir! I, the least of all!"

Haldir looked bewildered. "But you do have me, Ardamil. And I do not live without desire, you know that. I do not understand what has brought this on. Have I done something to injure you?"

Ardamil moaned and shook his head. "No, Haldir, you have done nothing to hurt me."

"Then what is this all about? Why are you so wary of Legolas?" Haldir pressed, reaching out and placing his hands on Ardamil's shoulders.

Ardamil looked up, directly in his captain's eyes. "Not Legolas," he replied. "You." With these words, he turned and walked back towards the camp.

---

By the time Haldir returned to the camp, the rest of the patrol was asleep- or pretending to be, except for Ardamil, who sat perched on the lower branches of a tree at the perimeter of the encampment, fulfilling his watch duty.

Haldir did not approach Ardamil, although he could sense the subaltern's eyes upon him, following his movements as he made a place for himself next to the fire and conspicuously far away from Legolas. He lay down but already he knew that sleep would elude him this night. The exchange with Ardamil had troubled him more than he was willing to admit, for it had seemed to him for many centuries that there was nothing that could come between him and Ardamil, nothing that could separate him from the love that Ardamil bore him. Even Haldir's own neglect had not the power to sunder their communion.

And Ardamil was not lightly given to imagination. It could very well be, Haldir admitted, that there was something in Legolas's motives that Ardamil could see while Haldir was blind to it. Still, it was also perfectly possible that Ardamil was experiencing a degree of jealousy over Haldir's obvious interest in Legolas. But why should that interest threaten Ardamil? This was what Haldir could not understand. Haldir had a special sort of bond with every member of his patrol. Legolas would not be the first one to perhaps desire something beyond acceptable limits, but the others-most of them, anyway-who had entertained such desires had managed to overcome them through the use of discipline and the discovery of a love so genuine and pure that its acceptance radically altered the demands of its adherents.

For a moment, Haldir felt resentful towards Ardamil's 'observations'. Then his resentment festered into defensiveness. Yes, perhaps there had been some occurrences in the past that had not ended so well as they might have; but were those few instances to hold such a bearing on how Haldir conducted himself now? And could it not be that Ardamil simply did not see those aspects of Legolas's character that would help put his fears to rest? Could it not be that Ardamil needed to spend a little more time with Legolas, to become acquainted with the Prince of Mirkwood?

Not only did Haldir decide it 'could be'; but he decided that 'it was'.

---

"Ardamil."

Ardamil looked up from his breakfast at the sound of his name. Haldir stood in front of him. "Yes, Nikerym?"

"I wish you to go into Amenden for word on the westward passages," Haldir announced.

The request, under normal circumstances, would not have struck Ardamil as anything out of the ordinary, but things were different in the light of this particular morning. However, he was not going to say anything to challenge Haldir.

"Yes, Nikerym."

"Take Orophin, Legolas and Mythis with you. You should be able to make it into town and back by mid-afternoon."

Again, Ardamil's only response was a simple acknowledgment. He did not wonder at Haldir's choice of his companions. In truth, he was too wretched to give it much thought. He had not had a good night. After being relieved of his watch by Henschel, he had not found the merciful release for which he had been hoping, for sleep had been elusive. Instead, he had spent the entire night wondering if he were being to suspicious, grieving over the unpleasant turn that had taken place between him and Haldir, and trying to recall anything to mind that might shed additional light on Legolas's behavior and identify it as something unthreatening. 'Oh, but this is such a waste of time!' he lambasted himself, for he knew it was not Legolas he feared, but rather Haldir's reaction to Legolas.

"While you are there, you should check out the metalcraft," Haldir added. "If you find anything suitable, perhaps you will bring me something."

It was an offering of sorts, of the only kind Haldir could make under the circumstances. Ardamil nodded. "If I find something that suits you."

Shortly, the foursome were on their way. The distance on foot to Amenden took just over two hours. The elves covered the terrain easily and with much good spirits, for even Ardamil could not continue to feel gloomy under the constant ridiculous banter of Orophin and Mythis, both of whom seemed to have sensed the subaltern's melancholy and were more than well prepared to combat it with a running dialogue of anything that came into their heads.

Amenden was a village of the Rohirrim, famous for the skill of its metalsmiths, who crafted some of the finest swords and knives in the kingdom. It also lay in between two of the main passages west and was always a good source of information about movements and activity on the highways.

The elves spent the morning strolling through the village, stopping to make conversation wherever there appeared an opening, and gathering information, though there was not much to be had. The highways had been quiet. They took lunch in a farm guesthouse, and then went to visit the metalsmith's row.

Here, Legolas found much to be impressed with: booth after booth, smelter after smelter, billows, anvils, furnaces and cooling vats. And one of the finest selections of blades he had ever seen. He went from one monger to the next, examining their wares and wondering how it was possible that anyone should be able to make a decision between one item and the next. He observed Ardamil several booths down, intent on whatever object it was that he was handling; and he went to join him.

Ardamil glanced up at Legolas's arrival, as Legolas looked at the piece of shining metal in the subaltern's hands. It was a brooch, simply made yet with an elegance in its simplicity.

"It is pretty," Legolas remarked.

Ardamil grinned. "It is to adorn the breast of the most beautiful of all creatures. It must be pretty, but it could never outshine its bearer."

"Who is it for?" Legolas asked.

"Our captain," Ardamil replied. "It is a cloak pin. It will be for his full warrior regalia. Yes, I think he will be pleased. It will look well on him."

Legolas probed carefully. "I am sure it will improve his spirits. He seemed rather out of sorts this morning."

"Yes, he did."

"He said the morning prayer without me. When I asked him if he would say it again, he replied that there was not time. He has not said a single prayer without me since we started the patrol. I fear I have done something to anger him," Legolas explained.

"He is not angry at you, Legolas. He is angry at me," Ardamil replied.

"At you? Why?"

"Because I told him something he did not want to hear, but more than that I will not say, Legolas. It is between me and Haldir. He would not approve of me discussing it with you," Ardamil answered honestly.

"I am sure he will forgive you quickly," Legolas said, sounding suddenly very young and child-like. "His friendship with you is very strong."

Ardamil passed a piece of mithril to the monger as payment and slid the brooch beneath his tunic. He turned to face Legolas. "It is not merely a question of forgiveness, Legolas. We have yet to see if I am correct or mistaken in what I told him." He smiled kindly. "But I would gladly be mistaken in this event. In fact, I will do all in my power to prove my own assertions false. Come, it is time for us to be heading back. There are Orophin and Mythis."

The four elves regrouped and began the walk towards the edge of the village. Their route took them past a collection of stables where the pride of the Rohirrim were being tended.

"Such fine animals," Legolas said in admiration. "I should very much like to ride one of them." He looked hopefully to Ardamil. "Is there time for a short ride? Just out to the tree line and back?"

Ardamil considered for a moment. "To the field's border and back. And we shall all go."

The stable's owner was only too agreeable when presented with a shining gold coin to permit the elves access to his four finest steeds, saddled man-style, and free to use for as long as the elves pleased up until sunset.

Not surprisingly, Legolas and Orophin raced their mounts to the field's border, where Orophin promptly jumped the hedge and then came trotting back through the gap, several yards down. The horses loved to run, and to Legolas, it was like riding the wind. His only regret was that Haldir was not here to enjoy it with him.

Ardamil rode more leisurely, watching as Mythis joined in the race from one gap to the next-a race which quickly deteriorated into the three elves trying to drag each other from the saddle. In the end, both Legolas and Mythis went down together, leaving Orophin to claim himself as lord of horses.

"I think that is enough!" Ardamil shouted. "We must head back before it gets dark. Haldir will be worried."

"Wait!" Legolas called out, getting up and brushing himself off. "There is something I wish to try, something I saw on my first patrol, and I want to see if I can do it!"

Ardamil knitted his brows together. "What is it?"

"A mounting maneuver!"

"No, I do not like that idea, Legolas," Ardamil replied.

"Oh, come now, Ardamil!" Orophin cried. "We want to see what Legolas has learned since coming here."

"Yes, surely, he has learned something other than how to look stunning at every turn," Mythis added playfully.

"You're thinking of yourself, Mythis!" Legolas retorted. "But watch, I will show you. It is an excellent trick." With that, he gave a shrill whistle, and the horse he had been riding wheeled about and came towards him at a gallop.

Mythis wasted no time in moving out of the way, but Legolas stood his ground.

Ardamil had been expecting Legolas to move off to one side and attempt to vault the horse, so when he did not move but instead remained fixed in place as the animal bore down upon him, Ardamil was suddenly struck with the thought that he had made a terrible mistake in not demanding that Legolas cease with his demonstration.

Legolas reached for the barrel strap that ran up from between the horse's forelegs on either side of its breast. His fingers caught hold and the momentum carried him across the horse's front. But just when he should have been feeling the sensation of upward movement, the momentum reversed. There was a sudden surprising feeling of pounding hooves and the sound of Mythis's voice raised in alarm. A strange thought closed Legolas's mind: 'Haldir is going to be mad.'

---

Haldir sat quietly on the trunk of a fallen tree, polishing the object in his hands. It was a round stone, the size of his palm, carved with ancient figures, handed down to him from his uncle. It was his own holy relic, a possession once belonging to the Vala Irmo, and Haldir cherished it. He took it with him on every patrol, more for the comfort it brought him than for any other reason. There were no powers ascribed to the object. It was simply something that had once been touched by the fingers of a Vala; and in the quiet times on patrol, he liked to feel its weight in his palm and see within its heart, the brilliant pulsation of a greenish hue.

Maynfeln sat down beside him. "I am surprised you have not rubbed the symbols away," he said with a grin.

Haldir examined the stone for a long moment, as if his thoughts were not wholly on what he was doing. "It is durable," he replied, then glancing up at the fading sun through the trees, he sighed audibly. "They have been gone since first light, and it is now coming onto evening. It is not like Ardamil to be so remiss."

"That is true," Maynfeln agreed, "But then again, he has Mythis, Legolas, and Orophin with him. Surely, you could not have picked a more lively company of elves. Even if Ardamil exercises good judgment and prudence, he will have to work hard to overcome the proclivities of the other three."

"Amenden is not a dangerous town," Haldir said, sounding as if he were trying to convince himself of this truth. "They should not have run into trouble."

"You might feel better if we went into the town to find them," Maynfeln suggested. "As soon as Henschel returns from collecting wood, we can all go together."

Haldir frowned. "We will give them another fifteen minutes," he replied. "After that, we shall go search for them." He resumed his attentions to the stone, but almost as soon as he started, the sound of a heavy footfall could be felt in the surrounding wood. He stood up with an alert glance at Maynfeln. A call went up in the wood, the sound of Trullip bird - or the imitation of one - and Haldir relaxed. It was an elven signal. A moment later, he could make out an image coming towards him through the woods. It was a horse, upon which an elf sat, while three more elves walked along beside or in front of the animal.

Haldir took off at a run towards them, and as he drew nearer, he saw that it was Legolas seated atop the horse. He was hunched slightly to one side and hugging that same side protectively. A grimace of pain contorted his fair features.

"What happened?!" Haldir demanded.

Legolas was suddenly sporting a very artificial expression of casualness. "It's nothing serious," he replied even as he winced at the horse's jolting movement.

"Just a little riding accident," Mythis said with equally manufactured nonchalance. "Nothing to get excited about."

"Yes, I can see that," Haldir retorted, and he was clearly angry as he led the horse the last few steps of the way. "Maynfeln,!" he called out, but Maynfeln was already coming forward. The healer helped Mythis in getting Legolas off the horse and over to the fallen tree where Haldir had been sitting.

"Where are you hurt?" Maynfeln asked, already at work loosening Legolas's tunic.

"My side . . . it's just a few bruises."

"And his hip," Ardamil added.

Legolas looked sheepish. "And my hip."

As Maynfeln made his examination, Haldir got down to business. He turned his seething gaze on Ardamil, Orophin and Mythis. "How did this happen?"

Before any of them could reply, Legolas spoke out. "It was just a little accident."

Haldir ignored him and continued to glare expectantly at his own warriors.

It was Ardamil who finally found his voice. "We went riding. Legolas wanted to try a new maneuver and was not successful."

Haldir's eyes narrowed. "A new maneuver?"

Once again, Legolas interjected, this time with an obvious playfulness in his voice. "One my captain showed me when we were in Wayfare."

A look of mortification came over Haldir's face. He knew precisely which move Legolas was referring to, for there had been only one. Only how Legolas came to attempt it during a casual outing was beyond Haldir's comprehension, especially since Ardamil, Mythis and Orophin all knew how Haldir felt about unsupervised training. How could they have let Legolas try something so dangerous?

During his captain's prolonged inability to speak, Legolas offered up a little more information. "I almost made it, but I came up a little short and .. . the horse trampled me a bit. But it's not that bad. It's only a few bruises."

"It's a few broken ribs," Maynfeln corrected. "And a nice bone bruise on the hip." He looked at Haldir. "It will heal in a week or two, but he should go back to Lorien where Meltheon can look after him. I can take him back on the horse."

Haldir still had not spoken. He could hardly think what to say. He felt as if he had completely lost control of three reliable members of his patrol and all because of an engaging Mirkwood prince who seemed to be able to charm his way into all sorts of trouble. Still stung by Ardamil's assertions the night before, and eager to demonstrate that he was not in any way falling prey to false expectations, Haldir sifted through the possible responses to the situation. But before he could say anything, Maynfeln was already in action.

"I'll look after him, Nikerym," the healer said, breaking in on Haldir's thoughts, and he began to help Legolas to his feet.

"Stop," Haldir said. It came out like an order. "Let me make something unmistakably clear. There will be no unsupervised training." He bore down on Legolas with a severe scowl. "I told you you weren't ready to try that yet. I suppose you thought you knew better than me. Hopefully, this little event has taught you otherwise." Then, to Ardamil, "Since when do you permit new members of the patrol to try such things without proper supervision? I trust you to act with responsibility."

"I am sorry, Nikerym," Ardamil replied. "It was wrong of me."

"It wasn't Ardamil's fault," Legolas protested. "I did it because I wanted to. I'm not one to ask permission-"

Haldir whirled on him, and there was something very close to rage in his eyes. "Yes, I am well aware that princes are not accustomed to asking permission to do whatever they please. I am also aware that, as a prince and an honored guest of my Lord and Lady, you are my responsibility, and part of that responsibility is to see that you are kept safe." He paused to regain his composure. "But it seems that you are intent upon frustrating that aim." Then to Ardamil, "And you seem more than ready to assist him in that goal. Why do I not find that surprising?"

He turned and strode across the encampment to where Henschel was emerging with his arms filled with wood.

Behind him, the five elves watched his retreat in stunned silence. After several seconds, Maynfeln resumed his work without saying a word.

Mythis, seeing the look of anguish on Legolas's face, placed a comforting hand on his shoulder. "Don't worry. He will come back to himself after a while." But his words were no consolation. Legolas raised his head and looked up at Ardamil, wishing immediately that he had not done so. Ardamil's usual placid expression was fragmenting.

"I am sorry, Ardamil," Legolas replied. "I did not mean to get you into trouble."

Ardamil shook his head wearily. "It is not your fault, Legolas. I managed this one on my own."

Haldir assigned Orophin and Maynfeln to accompany Legolas back to Lorien. He sent Mythis back to Amenden with payment and reassurance to the horse master that the animal would be returned to him in good time.

Orophin's party departed in the morning after a night of uncomfortable tenseness in the encampment. Haldir had spoken hardly a word all night, and even less at their departure, other than to advise Orophin in the sternest of terms that he wanted to hear of no further mishaps and that he was holding his brother personally responsible for Legolas's safety.

Orophin set an easy pace back to Caras Galadhon, preferring to move somewhat slower than to risk aggravating Legolas's injuries. Legolas, for his part, bore up well. He had tried to convince Haldir that morning that it was not necessary for him to go back, that he could manage the last ten days of the patrol without too much difficulty, so long as he could ride. But Haldir had dismissed the matter with very few words.

"You are going back to Caras Galadhon." That was all he had said, and Legolas had not dared to argue with him.

And so Legolas had parted with Haldir on less than pleasant terms. His thoughts, during the return to Lorien, were morose and consuming. By the end of the first day's travel, he had wearied himself from worry alone.

Below him, leading the horse, Orophin glanced up in the cool evening twilight. "You have been unusually quiet since we set out this morning, Legolas."

Legolas sighed. "I am pained by what has happened. I seem to have thrown an ugly twist into things. The patrol started out so well, and I . . ." He hesitated, searching for the words. "Haldir and I were growing very close."

Orophin nodded earnestly. "Yes, we had all noticed that. Haldir is very fond of you."

"But now all that is ruined! And I do not understand why. It was not such a very bad thing to happen, was it? Did he need to be so severe?" Legolas asked.

"Where foolishness is concerned, yes," Maynfeln replied. "And where the safety of an honored guest, who is also a prince, is concerned, certainly yes." A meaningful pause. "And where foolishness and said honored guest come together . . . I think he has a right to be severe."

"I wasn't being foolish," Legolas protested.

"Then you did not think that mounting maneuver was dangerous?" Orophin pressed.

Legolas colored slightly. "I only wanted to learn how to do it to impress him."

Orophin actually grinned. This was what he had suspected. Legolas was no more immune to Haldir's strange pull than any of the other patrol members. "I would say you were successful. You have definitely left an impression on him."

"Of my stupidity, apparently."

"Precisely," Orophin confirmed.

Legolas sat quietly. The petulance was draining away, leaving only sadness.

Orophin dropped back a step and pat the side of Legolas's leg. "He'll come around," he said comfortingly. "But you might want to consider apologizing to him."

The petulance returned instantly. "Apologize to him? I am the one who got hurt. I am the one who was dressed down in front of the rest of the patrol. And I was only doing it because I want him to be proud of me. Why would I apologize to him?"

Orophin's answer was simple. "For scaring him."

---

"You were very fortunate. It is only a bruise, when it could easily have been a broken pelvis. There is little to be done for it, other than to give you something for the pain. The ribs will heal on their own, as well. All that is required of you is rest."

Legolas grimaced. "I am afraid that 'rest' does not agree with me. I hate to be idle."

Meltheon, the healer, smiled indulgently. "I can certainly believe that. But rest, you must. And since the patrol does not come back for another week, you will have some time to recover peacefully." He stood up and moved to a row of shelves, stocked with vials, beakers, and boxes. From one of the boxes, he withdrew a sachet of herbs. "This makes an excellent brew. It will help with the pain."

Legolas accepted the sachet. "It is not that painful."

Meltheon eyed Legolas as if he were putting up with an expected behavior. "I have been in this world even longer than Lord Celeborn. Will you attempt to hide things from me? Your words mean nothing when your body shows all." He crossed his arms. "It is not a grievous pain, but a pain nonetheless. Do as your healer tells you and rest for the next few weeks. You may even be able to go out on the next patrol."

Legolas lowered his eyes. "If I am still in the patrol."

"Such injuries are hardly reason to cast you out," Meltheon said, helping Legolas on with a loose overgarment, to spare him as much movement as possible. He then called in Orophin and Maynfeln. It had been decided that Legolas would stay with Orophin, his talan being easily reachable and close to the patrol's talans.

And so, escorted by his two patrol mates, Legolas came to the dwelling that was to be his home for the next week at least. Beyond that, Legolas did not want to contemplate.

Orophin and Maynfeln ensured Legolas was made comfortable, after which the latter departed with a promise to come back later in the evening to see how the patient was doing. That left Orophin alone with Legolas, and the opportunity Legolas had been waiting for.

"I am afraid Haldir will ask that I be transferred to another patrol," Legolas blurted out as Orophin set to making the herbal brew.

"Nonsense," Orophin replied. "That will certainly not happen."

"Orophin, you saw how angry he was. I could not have imagined him so enraged," Legolas insisted.

"Enraged? Honestly, Legolas, that was not rage. He was angry, yes; and perhaps his anger was not in proportion to the event," Orophin replied. "But that only means that there must be something else on his mind, or he never would have reacted that way. And it must be something of great concern, for he was harsh with Ardamil, and that never happens."

"Yes, poor Ardamil," Legolas agreed. "The whole thing was my fault, yet he was the one who took the brunt of Haldir's anger."

"Your actions may have played some part in it, but not enough to incite Haldir to deride Ardamil like that. No, there is something amiss between Haldir and Ardamil. Your accident would not have merited such a response from Haldir had there not already been some kind of tension between the two of them," Orophin replied with certainty. He paused a moment, then added, "Haldir and Ardamil have been together for a very long time, Legolas. Ardamil is, for all intents and purposes, another brother to me and Rumil, but he is much more than that to Haldir. For Haldir to lose his temper like that with him is very unusual." He filled a cup with the herbal elixir and brought it to Legolas. "I only hope they soon reconcile whatever differences they are having, for both of them are suffering for it."

Legolas looked pensive but said nothing.

Orophin traded his rather somber manner for one more amenable to him and brightened up with a grin. "The cupboards are empty, and I am starving. Will you be alright if I go to restock?"

"I'll be fine," Legolas replied. "I am very tired, I must admit. I feel like a good sleep."

Orophin nodded once. "I won't be long." Then, before he left, he turned once more. "Do not fret over it, Legolas. It will all come out well in the end. Haldir can never stay angry for too long."

---

Three days passed, and surprisingly, Legolas did not have to fight any strong desire to be up and about, for in truth, he found himself exhausted and in great need of rest. Orophin was an excellent caretaker, and Maynfeln came to the talan at least twice a day, usually more, to check on Legolas's condition.

Word had reached Lord Celeborn within moments of Legolas's return to Lorien, and the Lord of the Golden Wood had made it a priority to check on Legolas and send word to Thranduil that there had been a minor accident, no need to worry. However, Celeborn's message to Orophin - "Tell Haldir I wish to see him directly he comes" - gave both Orophin and Legolas a sense of the impending wrath that awaited the Captain of the Wide Patrol.

A sense of guilt pressed on Legolas's shoulders, but he had already seen with these Lorien elves, that any attempt to deflect the blame from one of them onto himself was not possible. And so he bore his guilt with stoic patience until, by the fourth day of his convalescence, he could no longer bear its intrusion into his thoughts. He needed a distraction, something to help him get a bit out of his own head.

It was late in the day. Orophin had gone to the fitters with yet another rent cloak, and being that he enjoyed flirting with the elf-maidens who worked there, it was safe to assume that it was going to be a long visit.

Legolas found that he could get around fairly well, and the prospect of a bit of entertainment appealed to his spirit, and so he headed out for a walk, hoping to find some form of amusement. It was not long before he came upon a group of elves gathered about the base of one of the great mellyrns. Legolas recognized several of them, including Nenstil. Seeing Legolas, Nenstil waved him over and invited him to join the group. Legolas accepted the offer. They were taking turns reading out loud from a book of Dwarven tales, written in Dwarvish, translating as they went. They would read the sentence first in Dwarvish, and then give a rendering in Elvish. There was a great deal of laughter and merriment, for the Dwarvish pronunciations were abominable, and being that very few of the group had any degree of proficiency as translators, the meaning of the texts was frequently debated and questioned.

After some time, one of the elves called an end to the pursuit and suggested a relocation to the fountain for a round of ale. Legolas went along with them.

"I was surprised to see you back before the patrol's return," Nenstil remarked to Legolas, as they headed for the fountain. "But then I heard you were injured. I see you are limping somewhat."

"I had a riding accident," Legolas replied. "It was nothing serious."

"Fortunately," Nenstil added, then he asked, "And how goes your time with the wide patrol?"

"It goes well, except for this little matter," Legolas replied.

"Then you are learning a lot?"

"More than I ever realized I was missing," came the good-humored answer.

"Nikerym Haldir is an excellent teacher," Nenstil said. "What has he taught you?"

"Ah, where to begin . . . languages. He knows so many and speaks them all so well, especially the Ancient Language. I enjoy to accompanying him in the songs and the prayers. He has also shown me a great deal about tracking . . . how to stay hidden, how to read the signs in the land and sky." Legolas gave a thoughtful pause. "But I learn the most important things just from watching him."

"Such as?"

Talking about Haldir in such positive terms helped dissipate some of the darkness that had rested on Legolas's heart as he had contemplated what might happen upon Haldir's return. But now, a light shined in his eyes as he recollected the things that seemed to make Haldir more than just another member of the Guardians of the Golden Wood. "His leadership. The way the elves under him would do anything for him. His ability to empathize with his surroundings. The care and loyalty that he shows to every member of the patrol."

Nenstil was still smiling. "What else has he shown you?"

Legolas considered. "He has great faith and . . . he is devoted."

Nenstil nodded. "I remember."

Legolas was so swept up in singing Haldir's praises that Nenstil's statement of "memory" went completely unnoticed. "Lady Galadriel said that he was rare, even among elves. Never was a truer word spoken."

"You are very much in awe of him, aren't you?" Nenstil asked.

"I suppose I am," Legolas replied with no hint of embarrassment. "How could I not be? There are few to compare to him."

"Spoken like a true student of the good captain," Nenstil said, a certain sadness coming into his voice, and this time Legolas could not help but notice.

"Does something grieve you?" he asked, placing a hand on Nenstil's shoulder.

Nenstil replied after a brief hesitation, "Only memories of bygone days." He paused and looked at Legolas with serious eyes. "I wish to say only this . . . that as you learn from him and adore and esteem him . . . beware of him. Be on your guard, for Haldir is complicated."

Legolas withdrew his hand. His eyes grew narrow with uncertainty, and his lips were poised to voice his protest, but Nenstil went on.

"I mean no disrespect or injury to Haldir. He is an excellent captain; there is no questioning that. Only do not let your infatuation with him blind you to some of his . . . less admirable qualities." He stopped walking, as Legolas had stopped. "Not even an elf is perfect, although Haldir might have you believe otherwise."

"He has never tried to convince me of his perfection," Legolas retorted. "He has always acted with humility."

"Always?"

Legolas swallowed nervously, for the conversation was disturbing. "Except for when he is boasting as a means of humor."

Nenstil did not say anything, but regarded Legolas in a strangely sympathetic way.

"Why are you saying these things to me?" Legolas asked.

"Because I can see that you are enamored with him," Nenstil replied gently. "Legolas, I do not say these things to make you angry or to insult Haldir. I want only to spare you any pain."

"I fear no pain at Haldir's hands. He would not do anything to cause me distress," Legolas replied, but almost as soon as he had spoken the words did he realize that he had already experienced the very thing which he was denying, and that experience was recent and still in force.

"Then I will not try to persuade you otherwise," Nenstil said with a gesture of acquiescence. "My conscience bade me give you warning. I have done, then, all that charity requires of me." He paused. "Will you still come to the fountain, or have I made an enemy of you?"

Legolas considered. He had no strong feelings one way or the other where Nenstil himself was concerned; he had enjoyed Nenstil's company before and was willing to enjoy it again. He was both intrigued and repelled by the veiled references to some part of Haldir's character that apparently merited words of caution. And even more incredible was that he had caught himself in a lie, defending falsehood against an unquestionable truth, for it was undeniable that he had felt pain because of Haldir's reaction to the riding accident. Whether or not Haldir had intentionally meant to hurt him was of no matter, for the fact was that he had been hurt. Haldir had hurt him.

"No, you are not an enemy," Legolas said at last. "I will come. I have been closed up for three days. A trip to the fountain shall do me good."

---

"How did it happen, Haldir? Did I not make my desires clear?"

From a posture of humility, with bowed head and hands tight at his sides, Haldir replied, "I was negligent, My Lord. I sent him on a mission without me. He was not alone, but I should have kept him in my sight."

"You must exercise greater oversight," Celeborn replied.

"Yes, my Lord."

"It is only by the grace of the Valar that he was not more seriously injured. I expect greater prudence on your part," Celeborn went on.

"Yes, my Lord."

Celeborn regarded the picture of perfect contrition before him and, rising from his chair, came down from the dias. "Haldir."

Haldir looked up to see a stern, yet compassionate expression on the elf lord's face.

"Do not be so troubled," Celeborn said, and his voice was kind and forgiving. "I am pleased with you. Legolas is headstrong and full of vigor, just like his father. While I hold you responsible for this accident, I will also tell you that you are doing very well by him. He speaks of you in the most glowing terms. I went to visit him when he came back. He was greatly worried about what impact this incident would have on you. He fears losing your friendship, which he clearly values very much."

"He is eager to learn," Haldir replied.

Celeborn regarded Haldir thoughtfully for a long time, so that Haldir felt his thoughts were being bared to his lord's scrutiny, and he colored, unable to hold Celeborn's gaze.

"Is that all you have to say of him?" Celeborn asked.

Haldir fumbled for something to say. "He is good company," he finally managed.

Celeborn gave a soft tap with one finger beneath Haldir's chin. "What disturbs your peace, Haldir?"

Still, Haldir could not rouse his courage and face his lord. He shook his head miserably and remained silent.

"This is not like you, Haldir," Celeborn went on. "It has been many centuries since I have seen such melancholy weighing upon you. Do you not wish to speak of it?"

"I would not wish to burden you with my concerns, my Lord," Haldir replied. "Besides, I would not know where to begin."

"Begin with the truth," came the simple response.

Haldir hesitated for a long while, trying to find the words. At last, he made a painful admission. "I was not a good captain on this last patrol."

"Are you basing this assessment on the incident with Legolas?" Celeborn asked.

"Partly," Haldir replied.

"And the other parts?"

Haldir hesitated again. This was his lord, and an excellent one at that. He had always treated Haldir with consideration and kindness, but there were limits in their relationship. Celeborn was an elf king. Haldir was a respected captain of the Galadhrim, but still only a captain. They had a strictly lord-servant relationship, and Haldir had always been keenly conscious of that fact.

But now, Celeborn was expressing an interest. He had seen Haldir's sadness, and he wanted to know from whence it stemmed. Granted, he had a legitimate concern. Haldir was known for his joyfulness. Even his moments of anger or sadness were quickly overcome. That was not happening this time. It was only natural that Celeborn wanted to know what had happened to upset Haldir so deeply.

At last, Haldir said, "I was angry at something one of the patrol said, and I treated them all badly because of it."

Celeborn regarded him steadily. "Is that all the explanation I am to receive?"

"It will all sound like foolishness to you, my Lord," Haldir replied, attempting to beg off any further pursuit of the matter.

But Celeborn was not so easily dissuaded. "Let me be the judge of that."

Haldir considered for a long time. At last, he said in a slow, tentative voice. "I think Legolas might follow after me."

Now, it was Celeborn's turn to hesitate. In truth, this was the last thing he had expected to hear. "I see," he said quietly. "And the reason behind this opinion?"

"He shows an inclination for it," Haldir replied.

Celeborn drew in a deep, troubled breath. "Are you sure you are not indulging in wishful thinking, Haldir?"

Haldir groaned. "That is what Ardamil said."

"Ardamil?" Suddenly, a picture began forming in Celeborn's mind that might explain Haldir's affliction. "You spoke to Ardamil of this?"

"Yes, my Lord."

"Did you argue with him?"

"Yes, my Lord," Haldir replied dejectedly. "He said I am misreading Legolas's intent."

Celeborn nodded once. "What else did he say?"

"That mine is a difficult life, and Legolas would not be able to follow it." Now, Haldir sounded perturbed. "But I think he is wrong. I think he is jealous of my friendship with Legolas."

"Nonsense," Celeborn disagreed. "Ardamil is not a squeamish elf-maiden to get jealous over his captain's shared affections. He has stood by you for far too many centuries to forsake you over one visiting prince. He has concerns over your hopes that Legolas will take your path. I share his concerns. It is simply not realistic, Haldir. You are unique. There are no more of your kind-none in any of the three known Elven kingdoms of Middle Earth. It was a legacy passed on along family lines. Legolas is not suited for such a life. And even if he were, his father would absolutely forbid it." Celeborn brushed Haldir's cheek gently with his fingers. "I am sorry, Haldir. I think Ardamil is right." A pause. "And I think you must make amends with him and Legolas. There is nothing good to be gained from so much misery."

"Yes, my Lord," Haldir replied without enthusiasm, for he was unconvinced. Or rather, he was convinced of his misery, but unconvinced that Celeborn was any more correct than Ardamil had been.

"Go, then," Celeborn said gently. "You have things to set aright."

Haldir went, but he held out little hope that any action on his part could "set things aright".

---

Orophin and Rumil were waiting in Haldir's talan when he returned. The two had lit the brazier and begun to cook supper. Haldir had not been expecting them, but he was glad to see them. When he entered, looking more careworn and wretched than either brother could ever remember seeing him, their lavish attentions were welcomed in earnest.

Rumil caressed Haldir's cheek with his own and pressed a glass of wine into his hand. Orophin took his brother's cloak and laid it aside. "Come onto the colonnade," Orophin insisted, and it was then that Haldir saw the steaming bath prepared for him. A powerful blush colored his cheeks, for in a moment of particularly foul temper, he had decided to bypass the patrol's usual dip into the Nimrodel before entering Caras Galadhon. Yet, here were his brothers, overlooking the manifestations of his bitterness and going to special lengths to make him comfortable. He could not help but smile.

"A bath? Are you trying to tell me something?" he quipped with as much humor as he could muster.

"We are trying to tell you that you are covered with six weeks of patrol duty," Orophin replied. "Hard duty, I might add. It is time to wash all that off." He gave a cheeky grin. "We are also trying to tell you we love you."

"Someone has to take care of you, Haldir," Rumil added. "You do such a poor job of it, yourself."

"We know you had a hard time on patrol," Orophin picked up. "We wanted to relieve some of the burden. So, I am preparing your favorite meal. Rumil is ready to sing to your heart's content. And I will even rub out your muscles, if you desire it. You look very tense and tired. Come along." Orophin led him to the colonnade. "Get undressed. Everything is ready. It's steaming hot-just as you like it." He reached up, took a handful of Haldir's hair, and grimaced. "Yes, I will let Rumil deal with this. It needs a good wash, and then the touch that only Rumil can give it."

Haldir willingly accompanied his brothers onto the colonnade. They had him stripped naked and settled into the tub within seconds. While Orophin returned to his meal, Rumil set about loosening Haldir's braids as Haldir lazed in the tub.

"Come now, Haldir, you are supposed to be bathing, not lounging," Rumil chastised. "There is a meal to follow, and then singing."

Haldir gave a close-eyed, dreamy grin. "I may not last that long."

Ruil reached over and handed him a wash cloth. "This will help you keep awake. Wash!"

Haldir did as he was told, while Orophin, from his place by the simmering pot, asked, "What did Lord Celeborn have to say?"

"Ah, I knew there was a reason behind all this pampering," Haldir grinned.

"You offend us, brother," Rumil protested. "Our curiosity over your meeting forms only part of our kindness. The greater reason is that we thought you might need it."

"Is that so?" Haldir said, wondering just how much Orophin had told Rumil about what had happened on patrol. Surely, Rumil and the rest of the patrol had, upon regrouping, noticed how out-of-sorts Haldir had been, but it was unlikely than any of Haldir's smaller group had passed on more details than were absolutely necessary to explain the absence of Legolas, Orophin, and Maynfeln. They were none of them given to gossip, but it was certain that Orophin and Rumil had talked upon the latter's return to Caras Galadhon, and come to the agreement that their captain, their dearest older brother, would need some looking after. And so here they were.

"Yes, it is so," Rumil replied. "You have had a rough time, and we are here to comfort you."

"And who is comforting Ardamil?" Haldir asked.

Orophin grinned. "I think Mythis and Lostilsil have him well in hand."

"And Legolas?"

"He has been recuperating with me. Right now, he is out and about, probably brooding somewhere," Orophin replied impatiently. "But come, come! You have not answered my question. What did Lord Celeborn say?"

"Nothing that I shall repeat to either of you," Haldir replied.

"Oh, of course not," Orophin groused. "You demand to know all the details of our lives, yet you are unwilling to share even the smallest bit of yours."

"My poor, dear Orophin," Haldir teased. "You are truly misused."

"Truly," Orophin agreed. "Alright then, if you will not tell us what Lord Celeborn said, at least tell us when you intend to apologize."

"Apologize?!" Haldir's head jerked up as his voice soared. "To whom?"

"Why, to Legolas and Ardamil, of course," Orophin replied.

Before Haldir could respond, Rumil nudged him slightly forward. "Lean forward and tilt your head back." He filled a large urn with water heating on the brazier beside the tub and used it to dampen Haldir's hair.

"You think I should apologize to them?!" Haldir sounded incredulous.

"Or they should apologize to you," Orophin replied. "Either way, so long as this foolishness ceases. At the very least, you must talk to Legolas. He is very worried. He is afraid you will ask that he be sent to another patrol."

"I do not know if I can talk to him yet," Haldir replied. "I am still angry."

"Miserable is more like it," Rumil said.

"Haldir, you know Legolas did that maneuver to impress you," Orophin said.

"Oh, I am very impressed, let me assure you-"

"Haldir! He wanted to learn how to do it, so that you would be proud of him. Your good opinion means a great deal to him."

"His good sense means a great deal to me," Haldir replied, sounding uncharacteristically flippant. "I never should have agreed to take him into the patrol."

"Now, that isn't fair, brother," Rumil chastised, pouring a generous amount of soapy liquid into his hand and setting to work on Haldir's hair. "Until this accident, he was your prize student. You can't pretend that you didn't favor him more than you've favored anyone else in a very long time. That's what upsets you so much about this, isn't it? You're feeling betrayed, because he did something without your approval."

"I'm upset because I don't want to have to be the one to tell the Lord and Lady that Thranduil's son has been injured or worse," Haldir shot back.

"Absurd." Rumil's curt response caused Haldir to look up at him with a questioning eye.

"Are you being disrespectful?"

"Never, Nikerym!" Rumil replied. "I am only trying to be honest and tell you what I see. He adores you. He practically worships you. This was one small incident. Do not hold it against him."

Haldir smirked. "I will consider it."

"And Ardamil?" This from Orophin.

Haldir grunted. "You said you were trying to help me relax. You've both suddenly become very bad at it."

"Our profuse apologies, Haldir," Rumil said, sounding anything but contrite. "Very well, no more questions." He set himself diligently to his task, and Haldir savored the feel of his fingers massaging his scalp; and when Rumil began to sing in Elvish, a deep contentment settled over Haldir's tired senses.

'When the rains fill the heavens, it will be the call of your eyes that makes waterfalls of me.

When the winter comes with its chill, I will be the ivy That clings round your door.

Open all the shutters on your windows. Unlock all the locks upon your doors. Brush away the cobwebs from your daydreams. No secrets come between us anymore.

I will come to you in the silence. I will lift you from all your fear. You will hear my voice. I claim you as my choice. Be still and know I am near.

When the seas and mountains fall and we come to end of days. In the dark I hear your call. Calling me there, I will go there, And back again.' (all of these lines are taken from existing songs)

Haldir smiled with closed eyes. "And you are still prodding me."

"I thought you liked that song," Rumil replied.

"You well know it is my favorite, and you well know why."

"Perhaps you would have appreciated it more had Ardamil been singing it," Rumil countered, pouring another urn of water to rinse away the soap.

"You are not even attempting to be subtle," Haldir said.

"Subtlety is lost on you, brother," Orophin remarked.

"Ardamil created that song just for you, Haldir. It is an indication of how much he loves you," Rumil said with sincerity. "Whatever disagreement you had with him, it should not be permitted to continue. You are being exceptionally stubborn."

"Very well," Haldir gave in. "If I agree to talk to Ardamil and Legolas, will you two agree to stop talking about it?"

"Agreed."

Rumil finished his work, taking perhaps a little longer than necessary but only because he loved the feel of Haldir's water-laden tresses, heavy and damp in his hands. When he had done, he handed Haldir a towel and a dressing gown of ivory with painstakingly detailed embroidery of golden swans dancing with brown foxes.

"Come, sit by the fire," Rumil said.

Haldir sat down as Orophin held out a glass of orange liquid the consistency of syrup.

"Oliame," Haldir whistled, sounding surprised. "How long have you been holding this out on me, Orophin?"

"Holding out, indeed! I only break it open when it is needed," Orophin replied. "And tonight seemed like the perfect occasion. We only want you to have the best things tonight, to try and lift your spirits. All you have to do is enjoy."

"That is exactly so," Rumil agreed, making his first tentative attempts to run a comb through Haldir's tangles.

Haldir smiled softly. "I am grateful." Then he added, almost as a concession. "It has been a difficult time."

"So relax, and let us take care of you."

The dinner was excellent. The Oliame would have made anything taste good, but in truth, the meal was superb - another masterpiece for Orophin. After dinner, Rumil sang. Whatever Haldir wanted to hear, Rumil obliged. The hour had grown late when Haldir, half asleep already, heard Orophin's voice in his ear.

"We're going now, Haldir."

Haldir opened his eyes and started to sit up, but Orophin stopped him, leaning over from behind and hugging his neck. "Don't get up," he whispered, pressing his cheek to Haldir's, then turning his head to kiss him on the temple.

Haldir reached up and pat Orophin's arm. "Thank you both. This was very good of you."

Orophin kissed him again. "You knew we would take care of you."

"You return now to Legolas?" Haldir asked.

"If he is there," Orophin replied. "He has not stayed in my talan for the last two nights, although I have seen him during the day."

Immediately, Haldir was alert. "Then where has he stayed? In the patrol's talans?"

"I believe he has made friends in Thlayrah's patrol and has been spending time with them," Orophin replied. "This is their week off."

Haldir appeared momentarily stunned by this news. At last, he asked, "Does he desire to go to another patrol?"

"What an idiotic question!" Orophin blurted out, straightening up. "Clearly, you are all in. Get some sleep and we'll talk about it tomorrow. We will come to look in on you in the morning."

Rumil bent down and kissed the top of Haldir's head. "Sleep well, brother." Then he and Orophin left, and Haldir was quite alone.

---

Legolas had taken up the art of wood carving. Nenstil was very good at it; and when Legolas had shown an interest, Nenstil had begun to teach him the basics. That was three days ago. Legolas a natural talent for it and pursued the activity with vigor. He had spent the last two nights in the talans belonging to Nenstil's patrol, which was under the command of an excellent elf named Nikerym Thlayrah. The Wide Patrol's talans had been, of course, empty. And Legolas had his reasons for vacating Orophin's talan: his first and weakest reason was that he felt he had been imposing upon Orophin's good will and kindness long enough; but the greater reason was that, if he stayed with Orophin, he would surely see Haldir upon the patrol's return, and Legolas wanted the circumstances of that meeting to be within his own control, so that he could prepare himself for whatever might ensue. He had thought a great deal about what he might say, how he might approach his captain, how the scenario could play out. But he had come to no conclusions, no set course of action. Instead, during such thoughtful moments, he had begun work on a block of wood, whittling haphazardly, waiting for the shape to emerge. And it was in this state of occupation that he found himself one evening being addressed unexpectedly by Nikerym Thlayrah.

"I am surprised to see you still here."

Legolas stood up. "I am just working on this a bit."

"Sit, sit," Thlayrah insisted. Then, as Legolas sat, Thlayrah examined the piece of wood in his hands. "What is it?"

"I have not figured that out yet," Legolas replied with a grin.

Thlayrah nodded, then announced with no preliminaries, "The Wide Patrol got back this morning."

"Yes, I had heard."

Thlayrah noticed the tentativeness in Legolas's voice. He pursued amicably. "I thought you would have gone to greet them."

"I will," Legolas said, but he did not sound convinced or determined.

Thlayrah grinned knowingly. "You are afraid of Haldir," he ventured.

Legolas saw no point in denying it. "I fear that he may still be angry," he admitted. "I do not want to see him turn such a harsh eye on me again."

"Yes, Orophin told me he was quite severe with you," Thlayrah said.

"He was, deservedly so," Legolas conceded.

"But you need not fear that he is unforgiving or one to carry a grudge. Haldir does no such thing. He has never been that way," Thlayrah assured him.

"I can not feel quite so confident as you, Nikerym Thlayrah."

Thlayrah regarded Legolas thoughtfully for a moment, and he actually felt pity for him. He reached down and took the piece of wood from Legolas's hands. "I can tell you what this is," he said, inspecting it. "It is a gift for Haldir."

Legolas colored. "I confess I had thought of that, but nothing I could make would ever be worthy of him."

Thlayrah grinned and handed the wood back to him. "That is certainly not true. If it is made with your own hands, coming with the wish of your own heart, then not all the wealth of Moria could compare." A pause. "You are, of course, free to stay in the talans if you wish. But as you know, we go back on duty tomorrow, and next week we take the northern fences for three weeks."

Legolas did not catch the last part of Thlayrah's speech, for his mind had suddenly caught on an idea spurred by Thlayrah's talk of a gift. While Legolas felt certain that his own meager skills could produce nothing that he would dare present to Haldir, he did have in his possession, something that he would be proud to offer. And so, when Thlayrah had finished speaking, Legolas got anxiously to his feet. "You have given me an idea, Nikerym Thlayrah, for which I thank you most gratefully. If you will excuse me, I must return to the Wide Patrol's talans."

Thlayrah's smile widened at the turn of Legolas's countenance. "Tell Haldir that Thlayrah sends his greetings."

Legolas returned the smile brilliantly. "Indeed, I shall!"

---

Haldir awoke before dawn. His sleep had been peaceful, and now he felt almost desperate to begin the day. He hurriedly threw on a dressing gown and headed for the front room. Here, he took a splinter of flame from the lantern just inside the door and proceeded to one end of the room. He lit two candles on wall mounts, one on either side of a crude stone statue several feet tall. It was a representation of Aluvater, but nondescript in its antiquity. Haldir knelt on the bare floor and began his prayers. He went through them with a fervor that made him tremble. As he prayed, other lights in the room kindled themselves to flame, in rapid succession, one after the other, so powerful and forceful were the prayers being uttered. Haldir had never been left unanswered, if his questions were made in earnest. They were in earnest now. What was he to do? With Legolas? With Ardamil? Was he being stubborn? Was he being unreasonable? Should he approach them? Or was he justified in thinking they should both come to him? He simply did not know what to do. And his brothers-oh! how he loved them-had prodded his conscience, yet not moved him to any action other than prayer.

He lost track of the time in that room, the most holy room in his home. One prayer followed upon another, and then another, and still another, frantic in their petition, glorious in their praise. When a knock came at the door, Haldir was so surprised that he physically startled. He wrenched around and stared at the door as if it were itself a living creature, purposefully hiding that which was on its far side. It could not be Orophin and Rumil, for they never knocked. Ardamil never knocked.

He stood up and went to the door, and opening it, found himself eye-to-eye with Legolas.

"Legolas," he said, his voice barely a breath, thinking that it was nothing short of miraculous that his dilemma appeared ready to solve itself.

"May I come in?" Legolas asked.

"Of course."

As Legolas came inside, Haldir noticed that he carried a wrapped bundle in one hand. Upon entering, Legolas stood still and looked around him in wonder, for the room that had been dark was now illuminated. It was a shrine of sorts, clearly a room whose purpose was worship. And it was magnificent. The entire room was of carved wood and etched, multi-colored glass. There were depictions of the Valar running the length of both of the longer walls. Manwe taming the winds, Ulmo riding upon the waves of the sea, Yavanna tending her gardens. The ceiling was ornately painted with stars and sea creatures, woodland animals and any number of skybirds. At the end opposite the statue of Aluvater, there was a great depiction in colored glass of the formation of Arda. And before it was a stringed instrument the likes of which Legolas had never seen before. And finally, to one side of the statue of Aluvater was a small case of shelves with a thin sheer of finest silk hanging in front. Through the sheer, Legolas could see several objects, though he could not make out their identities.

"It is a beautiful room," Legolas commented. "Do you use it in your devotions?"

Haldir nodded once. "Yes."

"I think you would never want to leave it." He walked the length of the room, looking at the glasses, coming to the stringed instrument on its pedestal. "What is this?"

"An instrument of the Ainur," Haldir replied. "Not one that any of them have ever touched, but one that was made by the first of my line. It was said that when the final music would begin, the harp would pick up the notes."

Legolas looked up at Haldir with questioning eyes. "Do you still believe that?"

"I do," Haldir replied without hesitation. He held out a gesturing arm. "Please come inside," he said, motioning to his living quarters. Legolas complied, but Haldir remained in the sanctuary for a moment longer. He doused all the lights except for the two beside the statue, and then he joined Legolas. "You look like you are recovering well."

The formality of Haldir's manner made Legolas's determination waver for a moment. "Yes, I think everything is almost healed," he replied.

Haldir acknowledged in silence.

A painful moment of quiet followed before Legolas spoke his reason for coming. "I am here to apologize, Haldir. And to ask your forgiveness," he said, and there was no mistaking the genuine sorrow in his voice.

For Haldir it was very simple. "You are forgiven," he replied, but this did not suffice for Legolas.

"I never should have tried that trick," he went on, eyes now downcast. "I wanted so badly to be able to go back to you and tell you how I'd learnt it. I want to be able to do all the things you do."

Haldir felt his insides softening again. Legolas spoke with such earnestness, and he had a way of saying just the right words, so much so that Haldir was beginning to think that the Prince of Mirkwood was turning him to a fair pushover.

"I want you to learn those things, too, Legolas," he replied. "But at the right time and under the right conditions - with a healer present and someone to supervise. You didn't tell any of them what you were planning to do-"

"I told Ardamil-"

"You told him you were doing a mounting maneuver," Haldir interjected. "And he told you not to do it."

Legolas colored.

"He should have tried harder to stop you," Haldir went on, "but he is not solely to blame. You had your part in it-the greater part, I must say. You are impetuous, Legolas." He paused, weighing the course of speech he desired to pursue. He was almost frightened to sound the depths which he had been warned did not exist. "It is difficult to know what you take seriously, or how far your commitment reaches."

Legolas was puzzled, but Haldir continued. "You say you want to learn to do the things I do, but if your reasons for that desire are only transitory and shallow, you shall never have the perseverance to stay with the training when it gets harder."

"I have the perseverance," Legolas insisted. "And my reasons are neither transitory nor shallow."

"What are your reasons?"

Legolas thought for a moment, then answered in a quiet voice. "I want to be like you. I want to have your courage, your goodness, your skill, and your devotion. Is it wrong for me to admire you so? Someone told me they thought I was in awe of you. I had to admit that he was right. But why not? I am not ashamed to tell anyone that I esteem you."

Haldir was dumbstruck into silence. Suddenly, it was impossible to take Ardamil's and Celeborn's warnings to heart.

Legolas broke the peculiar silence by holding out the wrapped parcel. "This is for you."

Haldir took the package. "What is it?"

"It is a gift," Legolas replied. "You must open it to see what it is."

Haldir unwrapped the coarse cloth, revealing a long, narrow vase of polished deep blue stone, carved with intertwining vines and brilliant blossoms of orange and yellow. It was of such workmanship and of rare stone that Haldir easily counted it as the most expensive gift he had ever received.

"This is splendid," he breathed, running his fingers over glossy surface. "Wherever did you find it?"

"It is from the hands of the finest Mirkwood stone artisans," Legolas beamed.

"You brought it with you?" Haldir asked.

Legolas nodded, somewhat self-consciously. The truth was that it was a gift from his father to Lord Celeborn and Lady Galadriel. It had been sitting in his much forgotten and neglected pack, along with other gifts, since the day he had arrived in Lorien. And even now it was not to make its way into the hands of its intended recipient, but rather into the hands of one chosen by its bearer. In fact, Legolas had selected the finest of the gifts to give to Haldir, and still he had felt it could never match Haldir in splendor. And, as he fully intended to deliver the remaining gifts to the lord and lady, he felt only a very slight twinge of guilt at his diversion of the vase.

If Haldir wondered at the vase's unexpected presentation into his hands, he did not show it, nor did he inquire. Instead, he was an immensely gracious recipient. "This is truly a tremendous gift, Legolas. It will be the finest thing in my home."

"The second finest," Legolas corrected.

Haldir looked up at him, prepared to be puzzled, but then he saw the look on Legolas's face, and he understood his meaning. He actually blushed, which was a rare thing for the Captain of the Wide Patrol.

Legolas began to speak again, slowly, plaintively. "I do not want to be separated from you, Haldir. There is still so much for you to teach me."

"We will not be separated, Legolas," Haldir replied. "Not until you-or your father-desire it."

"Then you will not ask that I be reassigned to another patrol?"

Haldir was amazed that Legolas feared the very thing Haldir had been contemplating; and now Haldir felt guilty for having even considered it. "Of course not," he replied assuredly. "The patrol would be up in arms if I did that." A pause. "And I would not be happy either." He set the vase down and motioned for Legolas to sit. "Orophin told me you had been spending time in Thlayrah's patrol," he remarked, pouring a glass of Oliame, left by Orophin. "I feared it might be your desire to be transferred to another patrol."

"Far from it," Legolas replied. "I was terribly bored sitting around all day, and I did not want to impose any more on Orophin, so I spent a couple days with Thlayrah's patrol, and they were good company."

"Thlayrah is a good captain," Haldir said. "He has been a great help to me on several occasions."

"Yes, I liked him very much."

"And how did you like the rest of the patrol?" Haldir asked.

"I did not meet all of them, but the ones I did meet were a good lot. They aren't a spot on the Wide Patrol, but still they are pleasant elves."

Haldir nodded his agreement.

Legolas was quiet for a few seconds, then in a moment of particular boldness, he asked, "How is Ardamil?"

The question had also been on Haldir's mind. Even though he had spent the last part of the patrol with Ardamil, he had shunned Ardamil's company-not so much out of anger, but out of fear of another disagreement.

"He was well when we parted," Haldir replied.

"Then you are no longer angry at him?"

Haldir drew a deep breath. "Not as angry as I was," he replied. "But you should not worry about my dealings with Ardamil." In the privacy of his own thoughts, he added, 'I am worried enough for both of us.'

---

Ardamil needed no convincing to go reconcile with Haldir. He knew his captain well enough to know that Haldir would not seek him out to mend damaged fences. That simply was not Haldir's way. It was Haldir's way to be approached, at which, upon the offer of an honest apology, he almost invariably melted like ice. Haldir did not have it in him to hold onto slights and insults; but oddly enough, despite his humility, he also did not have it in him to make the first move. And, in truth, it was not a defiency that he had suffered from; every elf who knew him knew he was forgiving, and they knew his shortcoming, so they had no difficulties approaching him to apologize.

Except for this time. Ardamil, who knew better than anyone else what Haldir's idiosyncracies were, actually felt apprehensive as he neared the top of the rope ladder that would bring him to Haldir's door. He knew he was doing what was right and necessary; only he feared that the problem might not truly be solved, for Ardamil's opinion had not changed: he simply could not bear to be at odds with Haldir. He would keep his misgivings to himself and only speak out if he felt Haldir was in imminent danger of being hurt. Ardamil was hopeful that Haldir might proceed more cautiously now-especially as Ardamil had heard that Legolas had spent some time with Thlayrah's patrol. That alone had to have raised Haldir's level of wariness.

No, Ardamil struggled to convince himself, there was no reason for him to fear seeing Haldir. Besides, he still had a gift to deliver: the cloakpin he had purchased in Amenden. That, at least, he was sure Haldir would appreciate.

He came to the flet, drew in a deep, trembling breath, and knocked. After a few seconds, the door opened and there was Haldir, looking surprised and then anxious.

"Am I disturbing you?" Ardamil asked.

The question pained Haldir. How terrible he must have been if Ardamil had to fear being a disturbance. "No, not at all," he replied. "I am glad to see you."

"I see the candles are burning. I thought you might have been in the midst of your devotions," Ardamil ventured.

Haldir regarded him without speaking. A smile formed on his lips, the awkward sign of the creeping happiness he felt inside. While Legolas's appearance had been an occasion for uncertainty and guarded optimism, Ardamil's arrival was marked by joy and, dare he say it, relief. Haldir knew he should not have been surprised at Ardamil's appearance, for he knew how much Ardamil loved him. He took a step forward and pressed a brief, tender kiss on Ardamil's mouth. Drawing back, he whispered, "All my prayers have been answered this day." He kissed him again. "Do you have the slightest idea how much I love you?"

Ardamil peered into his captain's eyes. There were times when he felt he was looking into the eyes of one of the Valar. He imagined Tulkas, the strongest and greatest warrior of the Valar, the wrestler and the most skilled in acts of prowess. But he saw there also Manwe, closest to the will of Aluvater. And he heard in Haldir's voice, a remnant, far distant yet discernible, of the music of the Ainur. Why shouldn't Haldir's prayers be answered? He was highly favored by the Valar; and although Aluvater was a great mystery, the one thing Ardamil was certain of was that Haldir was covered with the blessings of the One.

And such a remarkable creature-his captain-loved him, a simple lowly elf of no consequence who had been fortunate enough to stumble upon him in the days of his youth, privileged to call him friend.

"Almost as much as I love you," Ardamil replied at last.

Haldir smiled. "I could never exceed your capacity for love. You are a gift, Ardamil, even if I forget it from time to time." He became very serious. "Do not ever let me go."

Ardamil drew Haldir to him, held him as if he wanted to draw him inside, to keep him in a place where he would always be safe, where he could feel Ardamil's love as a constant.

From within, Legolas watched them with fascination. He had never seen such a love between any two creatures as that which he was now witnessing. There was nothing erotic in their togetherness, but there was a sensuous aspect that Legolas wanted very much to experience first-hand. He wanted what Ardamil had-and what Ardamil had was Haldir, only he did not want to come between them. Rather, he wanted whatever piece of Haldir that Ardamil did not have, however small that piece might be. He strained to listen as Ardamil spoke again.

"Do you forgive me?"

"I should be asking you that," Haldir replied.

"I was out of line," Ardamil said, gently easing back. "I can not help worrying about you, but I will not talk out of turn anymore."

"I need you to worry about me, Ardamil," Haldir said. "I need you to love me as only you can."

"How can I refuse you when you say such things?" Ardamil smiled. "How could I refuse you in any way?"

Haldir grinned. "That is the idea." A pause. "Will you come inside? I have another guest."

For the first time, Ardamil looked through the archway and saw Legolas, who was now busily directing his attention elsewhere.

"Yes, I'll come in," Ardamil replied. He and Haldir went inside. Legolas stood up to greet them.

"Ardamil, it's good to see you," Legolas said pleasantly.

"You, as well, Legolas," Ardamil replied. He drew up to him, taking him by the shoulders and pressing his cheek to Legolas's in the same manner as he had greeted Haldir.

Legolas felt a tingle run up his spine at Ardamil's touch, at the extension of such an intimacy to include him. And in some strange way, being so close to Ardamil made him feel closer to Haldir.

As Ardamil drew back, he regarded Legolas thoughtfully. "You look well recovered."

"I am," Legolas replied. "There are only a few bruises left."

Haldir looked on happily. His heart was near bursting with joy at the sight of Legolas and Ardamil together. His prayers had indeed been answered.

"Sit down, both of you," he said, his voice ringing with cheerfulness.

As Ardamil moved to take a seat, he caught sight of something he had not seen before. He picked up the vase from the table. "I have never seen this before," he said. "It is very beautiful."

"Legolas gave it to me just now," Haldir replied.

Ardamil wondered if his face reflected his sudden embarrassment. The vase was exquisite, brilliant, and more wonderful than anything Ardamil could ever afford. The brooch in the folds of his cloak suddenly felt like a trinket. He certainly could not give it to Haldir now; perhaps at some other time when it would not pale by comparison to Legolas's magnificent gift. "It is truly a splendid thing," he said, doing a very good job of hiding his disappointment. He set it back down and sat beside Legolas.

"How was the rest of the patrol after I left?" Legolas asked.

Ardamil deferred to Haldir, who was getting a decanter and glasses. Haldir colored slightly. "It was not the most pleasant of experiences," he replied. "I was not in a good temper."

"That is true," Ardamil grinned.

"So, did the rest of the patrol blame me for your bad temper?" Legolas asked.

"No, no one blamed you," Haldir replied. "After all, it was really my own fault."

"It was not all your fault, Haldir," Ardamil corrected. "I contributed to your foulness."

Haldir turned an affectionate eye on his subaltern. "You were only saying what you thought was best for me."

Legolas knitted his brow. "Oh? And what was that?"

"Nothing that you need to be concerned about, Legolas," Haldir replied, smiling gently. "It is all over, anyway." He looked at Ardamil. "Is that not correct, Ardamil?"

Ardamil could not quite bring himself to agree with this statement, but he smiled and made an ambiguous gesture that could be construed as assent.

They passed the day in amicable companionship. Legolas told them about his days of recuperation and the time he had spent with Thlayrah's patrol, although he did not speak of Nenstil's words of warning. Haldir and Ardamil recounted the patrol's activities during the days of Legolas's absence. Orophin and Rumil came over late in the morning, but seeing Haldir so happily tended, they made some hasty excuses and left their brother to bask in the attentions of Ardamil and Legolas. Haldir made a meal in the afternoon-or rather, he attempted to and, failing miserably, gladly turned the task over to his two guests, who produced a small meal of simple fare.

Legolas discovered his enjoyment of Ardamil's company increasing. For whatever place the subaltern held in Haldir's life, he did not make a show of it. He did not flaunt his favored position in front of Legolas. In fact, he showed every kindness and consideration to Legolas. But that was not all. As Legolas observed Ardamil in action around Haldir, he began to see clearly that there was a certain reciprocity in their relationship. Ardamil had a quiet, unobtrusive way of watching over Haldir nearly every moment; and in return, Haldir gave Ardamil much to watch. Haldir's movements were fluid and graceful, but without affectedness, as if he did not know he were being watched. He was physical in the extreme, but this Legolas had already known. At every turn and opportunity, he touched, brushed against, pat, held. He unwittingly made himself a feast for the senses. His voice resonated, music-like, within the partially enclosed talan. And the aura of light that infused him appeared to shimmer in proportion to his joy, which at the moment was very great.

And all of this was as a treat to Legolas; and if the Mirkwood prince were not deceived, it appeared that it was also a treat to Ardamil, even though he had been privileged to witness it for century upon century.

The day waned into evening and then into night. At last, after singing and a good amount of laughter, Ardamil stood up to leave.

"I must be going back to my own talan," he announced.

"Must you?" Haldir asked, also rising.

"I am in desperate need of sleep," Ardamil replied. "I have not slept well at all for the past ten days or so." A wry smile curled one corner of his mouth. "I can not imagine why."

Haldir returned the grin. "I dare say you shall sleep secure with peace tonight. Faithfulness will be your joy." (this is also from an existing song)

Legolas stood, as well. "I will also take my leave, Haldir."

"I am now to be completely abandoned," Haldir said with feigned injury.

"Not for long, Nikerym," Ardamil replied. "I had hoped that tomorrow we might shoot arrows for sport. And I had hoped that your brothers and Legolas would join us."

It was agreed, and when Ardamil and Legolas left together, Haldir watched after them until they were out of sight in the depths of the wood below. He could hear their chatter and intermittent laughter long into their descent. It was not until it faded that he turned and went back inside. A glint of color caught his eye in the candlelight, and there on the pedestal, before the statue of Aluvater, rested a brooch of gold. He picked it up with a smile. It was beautiful, like its giver.

"Ardamil . . ."

---

Both Legolas and Ardamil kept the conversation fairly light and meaningless until they reached the steps at the bottom of the rope ladder. At this point, they were both assured of their words going unheard by their captain.

"I was very glad to see you today, Ardamil," Legolas began. "I felt terrible about what had happened, getting you into trouble with Haldir, and then being forced to go back to Caras Galadhon, leaving you to face his ire alone."

"His ire was not so very terrible. It manifested itself in silence," Ardamil replied, then he cocked his head to one side in consideration. "Or perhaps it was terrible. Silence from Haldir is nothing I would ever wish to endure again."

"I am truly very sorry," Legolas apologized. "You told me not to try that maneuver. I should have listened to you."

"Yes, you should have," Ardamil agreed. "But do not think that your accident was to blame for Haldir's anger. The truth is, Legolas, that Haldir and I had exchanged words prior to your accident, and he was already upset with me. He had tried to rally himself that morning, but then the accident happened, and he was ripe for such a reaction."

"Would I be pressing too hard if I inquired what you argued about?" Legolas asked.

Ardamil was silent for a long time. At last, he answered, "You."

"Me?! Why did you argue about me?" Legolas was genuinely surprised by this admission.

Again, Ardamil was slow in replying, choosing his words carefully. "Haldir entertains certain hopes for each member of his patrol. I believed his hopes for you may have been premature."

"Why? What are his hopes for me?"

"I am afraid you must ask him that," Ardamil replied.

"That is not fair, Ardamil. You can not tell me only so much and then withhold the crucial bits and pieces," Legolas protested.

"It is for Haldir to tell you what his desires are." Ardamil paused for a thoughtful moment. "But do you mean to tell me you have no idea what he might be hoping for where you are concerned?"

Legolas looked baffled. "I thought, quite frankly, that Haldir wanted for nothing. What could he possibly hope to obtain from me?"

"Not 'from' you, Legolas; 'for' you," Ardamil said. "He wants something for each of us. And . . . there are times when he wants something from us, but you are already aware of those desires."

Now, Legolas was truly at a loss. "I do not follow your meaning at all."

"Haldir wants our loyalty, our faithfulness. He wants us to be courageous and devoted to him and the patrol," Ardamil explained. "But the things he wants for us are much more subtle. He wants us to be happy, secure, at peace. He wants us all to feel as if we belong to him, and he to us."

"If that is what he desires for me, what makes you think that it would be premature?" Legolas asked.

"Those are not the only things he desires, Legolas. For each of us, individually, Haldir hopes for something specific, something that makes each different from the other. And to be quite honest, there have been very few times-I can count them on one hand-when Haldir's aspirations have not been fulfilled. And when that has happened, he has been hurt-badly. It is his nature to put all of his energy into any endeavor, any hope or dream. And so any resulting failure hits him hard. I believed Haldir was in danger of being hurt again, and I did not want to see that happen."

Legolas looked at him with wide, stunned eyes. "I would never hurt Haldir."

"Not intentionally," Ardamil replied. "But you do not know him so well yet, Legolas. You have learned how to move him; that is easily seen. But you do not know his vulnerabilities. You do not know-you do not know the things that injure him the most."

"And will you not tell me these things, that I may avoid them?" Legolas asked, and he sounded mildly distressed.

"It is not that easy, Legolas," Ardamil replied. "Haldir has his own ideas, and it would not be inaccurate to say that he . . . he almost . . . he unknowingly pushes others to hurt him. He builds up his own expectations of others, and when those expectations are dashed, he has a bad time recovering. That is why he is so guarded. It is why he stays within himself."

"I do not see Haldir that way at all," Legolas said. "I find him to be very outgoing."

"He is outgoing, Legolas," Ardamil agreed. "But I am not talking about his character. I am talking about his being. He does not give himself fully to anyone. He will only give as much as will not expose him to risk."

"But he has given himself to you," Legolas protested. "And to his brothers. I have seen it."

"To his brothers, yes, perhaps," Ardamil admitted. "But not to me-not entirely. He has put his seal on me, and I on him. He has done the same with every member of the patrol. Those upon whom he could not bestow his seal are no longer in the patrol. But not one of us could say that Haldir is completely open to us. He reserves that privilege for one alone, and that is Aluvater."

"What is this 'seal' of which you speak?" Legolas asked.

"It is a bond born out of love and loyalty," Ardamil replied. "It is the thing that makes the Wide Patrol what it is. No other patrol captain does it. Haldir makes it very clear that those in the patrol are commanded to love one another, even unto death. The symbol of that love is the seal, and the seal is signified by a kiss."

Legolas was silent for a moment, then he said, "He has not kissed me."

"I have noticed that," Ardamil said, "And I must admit, it puzzles me. I had felt certain that he would have put his seal on you by now."

"Perhaps he perceives in me the same threat that you do," Legolas said, his voice betraying his feelings of insult mingled with sadness.

"No, I do not think that is it at all," Ardamil replied. "He is quite taken with you, Legolas. If he perceives any threat now, it is only because I put the idea in his head. But I do not believe he perceives any threat. No, he has his own reasons for not bestowing his seal on you. Yet, after today, I can not believe it will be long in coming."

"I am not sure whether to be grateful to you for telling me these things or whether to be angry, for you have put me on alert, as it were," Legolas said. "But I give you my word, Ardamil, before the Valar, that I will do all in my power not to hurt Haldir. I can not even conceive of doing such a thing on purpose. But if you will not tell me what precisely it is that you fear from me, then is it not possible that I will mistakenly bring about the very pain that I wish to prevent?"

"It is not something I wish to tell you," Adramil answered. "And Haldir would not be pleased if I did. I am sorry, Legolas. It is something you will have to find out for yourself. And by the grace of the Valar, it will not be under unpleasant circumstances."

"But you may at least watch out for me, that I do not fall into disfavor," Legolas ventured.

"That I will do," Ardamil replied. "But you must do your part, Legolas. You must watch for the warning signs. Do not let your love for him blind you to the reality of the demands he may make on you. He will do it all out of love, and that love blinds him already-just as it has blinded him in the past."

Legolas drew in a deep breath. "This is all very confusing, I must admit," he began. "But I trust you, Ardamil. And I will submit myself to your advice. I will pay attention to his manner with me, if you help me stay out of the pitfalls. He is very important to me, Ardamil. I do not want to lose him over a misstep."

"I will do my best, Legolas," Ardamil replied.

They had come to an understanding.

---

It was in the light of this understanding that summer passed into fall and fall into winter. The patrols continued. Into the spring they continued, until Legolas could mark the one-year point of his time in Lorien. These were very good months, filled with cheer and much adventure. They were months that saw the improvement of Legolas's skill in tracking, hand-to-hand combat, tactical planning of small scale engagements. They were months during which his swordsmanship advanced at such a rate that he soon surpassed the skills of a number of elves in the other patrols, and his archery-already well developed when he had arrived-became a subject of envy at which many of Haldir's own elves could not help but marvel. They were months during which Haldir noted with satisfaction all these improvements. In the short space of one year, Legolas had put on a fair amount of muscle-as much as Haldir thought he would ever put on, at any rate. He had acquired a confidence and grace that were the natural accompaniments of the strengthening of his various skills. And he had shown himself a most determined pupil in all respects. It had been an occasion for much celebrating when, under Haldir's watchful eye, he had at last mastered the mounting maneuver that had caused so much earlier trouble. The fiery edge that had marked Legolas's arrival in Lorien was still with him, but it had taken on a cooler flame as he found his place within the patrol and settled in confidence of his own abilities.

And while the months were weighed by the things that transpired, they were also viewed through the lens of the things that did not happen. So, while Legolas continued to learn the ancient language, saying the prayers and participating with Haldir from time to time in this or that ritual, he still had not probed the depths of Haldir's devotion. And while both Legolas and Ardamil watched for any indication that Haldir's expectations were increasing, they discerned no such increase. Even Ardamil's wary mind was lulled into a state of lessening vigilance as the months passed peaceably. He watched as Legolas lured Haldir into a wrestling match at least several times each patrol, and even when the patrol was not on duty. And he was not surprised when Haldir gladly engaged the Mirkwood prince, defeating every time. But he was surprised when week after week, month after month, Haldir did not put his seal on Legolas. And he was even more surprised that Legolas appeared willing, or at least resigned, to accept this state of things.

Legolas, not unexpectedly, had become a very popular elf in Lothlorien. He spent most of his time with the members of the Wide Patrol, but he still found the time to get out and visit with the other patrols, and Thlayrah's patrol was his favorite. He spent a fair amount of time with Nenstil, honing his skills in woodcraft. The first carving to come from his knife had not gone to Haldir, as Thlayrah had contended in the summer previous, but rather had gone to Nenstil as an appreciation for his patience and the sharing of his talent. It had been a carving of Varda - Elbereth, as she is known by the elves of Middle Earth. Even the second carving had not gone to Haldir, but to Ardamil: two dolphins intertwined in the wave. The third had gone to Haldir, and Legolas deemed it his finest work thus far: Tulkas wrestling with Tilion.

Nenstil had never again mentioned his concerns for Legolas with regard to Haldir, although Legolas had prodded, however gently, for more information. Yet, it did come to pass in the spring that Legolas found himself in a troublesome conversation with Nenstil and the other elf who had accompanied him from Mirkwood-an elf by the name of Flagon, who although pleasant enough, sometimes seemed to have a rather derisive manner toward Legolas. After an evening at the fountain, during which both Nenstil and Flagon had noticed the fond affections of Haldir for Legolas, Legolas had headed back to the patrol's talans, overtaking Nenstil and Flagon along the way as they returned to their own talans. Legolas, never one to miss an opportunity, determined not to miss this one.

"I did not hear either of you sing tonight at the fountain," he began, maneuvering to stand in between them, an arm about each of their shoulders. "Yet I know from experience that at least you, Flagon, have great talent."

Flagon smiled but his voice contained a strange element that sounded almost like bitterness. "How was I or anyone else to sing when you Wide Patrollers spent the entire time crooning love songs to one another?"

Legolas burst out laughing. "Crooning love songs?! Is that what it sounded like?"

"That is what it was," Flagon answered. "That is how it has always been in the Wide Patrol."

"I admit that we all like the sound of a good voice, and we enjoy singing . .. but love songs? To one another?" Legolas said with a chuckle.

"You were clearly pouring out your heart to Nikerym Haldir," Flagon said. "And it is not the first time we have seen him forsake his songs of praise to deliver songs of love. You are one of the fortunate few."

"This is strange talk," Legolas said, knitting his brow and losing perhaps a bit of his good humor.

"It is honest talk," Flagon replied curtly, at which Nenstil reached over and placed a hand on his arm.

"Do not make yourself angry, Flagon. Those days are passed," he said in a soothing voice.

But this was all Legolas needed to pursue with vigor. "To what days are you referring?"

Nenstil answered before Flagon could speak. His voice was low and neutral, as if he did not want to fan any flames. "Flagon and I were both once members of the Wide Patrol, not at the same, but both under the command of Haldir."

Flagon continued. "We are more than well acquainted with the attentions that he is showing to you, for we were once the recipients of those very same attentions." A pause. "Attentions that escalated in intensity, and which were gladly returned . . .until the captain grew bored, decided he had had enough. The end result was our . . . expulsion from the good captain's graces and our reassignment into another patrol."

Legolas looked at Flagon with an expression of incredulity. "I can not believe Haldir is capable of such a thing."

"It is hard to believe," Nenstil agreed. "He is very charming, after all. But you have also seen, certainly, that he is a disciplinarian. He demands loyalty and punishes those from whom he does not get it. Our presence was a discomfort to him-"

"I have not seen this in him at all-"

"That is because you are so in love with him that you refuse to see it," Flagon said, sounding now fully bitter. "I speak from experience."

Nenstil reasserted his comforting hand on Flagon's arm, but he directed his words to Legolas. "Haldir is surpassingly handsome, even among elves. He is well aware of his own beauty and the effect that he has on other elves. This is what makes him such an incredible leader. You, yourself, told me, Legolas, that you admired his leadership, the fact that his elves would do anything for him. Consider your own feelings . . . do you not find him attractive? Do you not find him occupying your thoughts a good deal of the time?" He leaned closer. "And is it not true that the reason you are here, attempting to learn more about him is because you are not able to figure him out on your own? You love him, but you are not sure he loves you."

Legolas looked back and forth between the two elves, a kind of horror reflecting in his eyes. "I am not in love with him. That is impossible. My inclinations do not tend in that direction," he stated emphatically. "I am fond of him. He has been very kind to me. I am loyal to him, just as the rest of the patrol is loyal to him-"

"Do you not see what is happening?" Flagon charged. "He is working on you . . . so much that even when he mistreats you, you are willing to defend him."

"Mistreats me?" Legolas was sharp. "What gives you the idea to say such a thing?"

"You strain after him and strain after him," Flagon persisted. "You do everything you can to attract him, but he will not give you what you want."

"You do not know what I want," Legolas retorted.

"It is easily seen in the way you look at him-" Flagon began, but Nenstil cut him off.

"This sort of talk can not do anyone any good," he said. "Flagon, you are still resentful; and Legolas, you do not know all the circumstances of Flagon's resentfulness. Your experiences with Haldir will inform your opinion of him. Nothing more need be said on the matter."

"Leaving you with the last word," Legolas countered, "after you both have spoken ill of him, veiled or direct. But I will not stay to listen to anymore. Haldir has been good to me. It is my own fault if I demand too much of him."

"Too much of him?" Flagon could not keep the ire out of his voice.

"Yes, too much of him," Legolas replied, matching Flagon's tone. "You are right about one thing. He is an excellent captain, and as long as I am in Lorien, I will remain under his command-"

"You are a prince-"

"And he treats me like one!" Legolas retorted.

"He will take everything you have to give; but when you ask of him, you will receive nothing in return," Flagon insisted.

Legolas smirked. "You are already wrong. He has given me more than I could have ever asked for."

"Flagon, come," Nenstil interrupted. "This conversation can not continue. Let us return to the talans." He led Flagon several steps forward, then turned to Legolas. "I am sorry, Legolas. I had hoped to avoid such an encounter; but now that it has happened, I hope you will be on your guard. I admire and esteem Haldir, but I also know, as Flagon does, things that you do not know that have forever colored his image in my eyes. If you continue to love the way you do, you give him the ability to injure you."

Legolas did not reply, but watched them retreat through the settling mists. For many days after this encounter, he experienced simmering anger. He spoke to no one of the conversation and forcibly discounted its veracity in the confines of his own thoughts. He had little difficulty convincing himself of its falsehood, but his anger over what he considered to be near slander on the part of Flagon and, to a lesser degree, Nenstil, did not abate for some time. He stopped going to Thlayrah's talans and met with other members of that patrol only in communal social settings.

And to bolster himself with the assurance of Haldir's affection for him, he spent even more time with him to the point where he would, on a regular basis, pass the entire night in Haldir's talan. He had a place on the rug-covered floor, amidst the pillows and throws, that he had claimed as his own, and there he slept, to awake every morning to partake in the recitation of prayers. He would pass almost the whole day in Haldir's company, of which he never tired. And in the evening, he would join Haldir again in the holy room. It was a life such as he had never known, and which he never wanted to leave.

The more he watched Haldir with the patrol, the more he understood Ardamil's explanation of the bond that held them together. Haldir was, as Nenstil had said, a disciplinarian, but he was also fair and just. The patrol trusted him implicitly, and he returned that trust.

In short, there was nothing missing, nothing wanting. Life in the Wide Patrol-life for Legolas-was perfect.

Helm's Deep

Haldir gazed out over the darkened plain. The steady thump of many footfalls in unison had long preceded the image of the black mass, speckled with flickering light, that now swelled up into the neck of the valley. The sight was undoubtedly disconcerting to many of the men who formed the castle's defense-perhaps it was even so to some of the elves-but to Haldir it was yet one more face of evil. He had faced much worse, and that, recently. Here was an enemy he could fight. He had not been able to fight his previous tormentor. He had been completely at his mercy, but there had been no mercy. There had been only agony and terrible, consuming fear. There would be no mercy now on either side, as Aragorn was reminding them as he paced the length of the deeping wall, giving last minute instruction. No mercy. Haldir was glad to hear him say it, for in truth, Haldir did not flatter himself that he could feel any mercy towards evil. He would never try to pretend that evil was good. He knew what wickedness was: he had experienced it first-hand, and from a much more formidable enemy than that which he now faced.

Beside him, Ardamil was a bulwark of stoicism-steady and dependable. Now, as the enemy approached and a dull rain began to fall, Ardamil spoke quietly. "Do you suppose there is any possibility of victory against such an army?"

"Yes," Haldir answered simply, then sensing that this response was unlikely to satisfy Ardamil, he added, "Although we may die in the securing of that victory."

Ardamil was silent for a moment, then he asked, "Do you not wish for Legolas to fight beside us, Nikerym?"

"What I wish and what I know is best are two different things," Haldir replied.

Ardamil pursued no further. He knew what Haldir was suffering, no matter how well hidden. He understood the sense of loss his captain was feeling; and although Legolas was only one small part of the picture, he was a crucial part. It was Haldir's own abiding sense of shame that prevented him from returning to Legolas in the manner of bygone days. It was that same sense of shame that had put Haldir at a greater distance from even his own warriors. Ardamil had concluded that it was unlikely Haldir would ever fully overcome what he had been through; and, being Haldir, it was also unlikely that he would ever permit anyone to help him beyond a certain degree. In some strange sad way, it seemed to Ardamil that the strands of time and fate had no other possibility but to intersect at this point, where darkness threatened to cover the land, and evil raised its mighty hand against the meager forces arrayed against it. After all, his captain was living proof of a goodness so pure that evil was attracted to it, insistent upon crushing and destroying it. Evil spared no one.

The moving mass of blackness came to a halt perhaps a hundred yards away from the deeping wall. Individual creatures could be made out now, bound in armor, their weapons as brutal in appearance as in utility. There was a long few seconds of eerie quiet, then a cry went up, wordless and terrible. Immediately, the ground vibrated with the pounding of pikes and spears, a steady grinding rhythm, meant to strike fear into the hearts of the besieged.

Haldir continued to look out, his expression one of appraisal without fear. But he was not wholly without feeling. What he was harboring deep inside was not fear, but a sense that all had come to this intended moment. He felt not dread but readiness. This was the consummation, in preparation for which he had suffered torture and deprivation, for which he had, against his will, been reduced to nothing more than an implement and stripped of everything he had ever had dear. He was ready to fight this fight. He was ready to give whatever was required of him. It was the mark of a soldier, and that was what he was.

The troops of Theoden, lining the parapets of the keep, raised their weapons and took aim. The air vibrated with tension and terror as the enemy worked itself into a frenzy. Then, suddenly, a dead calm fell. An arrow had been loosed accidentally. One of the Isengarders dropped to the ground, dead. A single voice cried out in rage, followed by another, and then another, until, like a wave, the voices crescendoed into a cacophony of hatred and fury. One voice commanded the others, and the front line of the mass surged forward. The battle was on.

Aragorn's voice rose above the din. "Tangado a chadad!"

Haldir drew an arrow and prepared to fire, picking out his target. His exterior was placid, which bolstered the spirits of his warriors. To look upon him was to see confidence incarnate. It was a tremendous thing, for if any elf had reason to be afraid of the onslaught, it was Haldir. But again, if any elf had reason to fight to the death, it was Haldir.

"Hado i philinn!!" Aragorn shouted, and a hail of arrows flew from the deeping wall and the keep.

Haldir let his arrow fly but did not follow its progress before nocking another. Within a matter of seconds, his quiver was empty, and he was reaching into the re-arm barrel. Out of the corner of his eye, he had seen a number of the elven warriors fall, but he had not been able to tell if any of them had been from his patrol. The sea of bodies below surged forward like breakers against the foot of the deeping wall. Then, from the frothing bedlam below, there arose long narrow shapes, swinging like upsided pendulums.

"Pendraith!" Aragorn shouted, "Swords!! Swords!"

Haldir did not draw his sword right away, but continued sending arrows out to take down the orcs that were riding the ladders towards the top of the deeping wall. When the first ladders landed, he traded his bow for his sword. The swell of orcs was so great that he found himself toppling two to three enemies with each slice. Every parry turned into a counterthrust until the walkway beneath his feet was slick with blood and growing deep in bodies.

At his back was Mythis, whose task it was to guard his captain against any attack from behind, and whose hands were quite full. The red cloak and lack of head gear marked Haldir as an elf of importance and drew the attackers down upon him like a pack of wild dogs. Mythis, skilled sword master though he was, was finding it increasingly difficult to fend off the attackers. Further down the wall, he caught sight of Enthamis, still firing arrows into the mass below. "Enthamis!" he called out. "I need your help!"

Enthamis abandoned his position on the wall and joined Mythis.

Over his shoulder, Haldir shouted, "Where is Ardamil?!"

"He has moved down the wall towards the keep," Mythis replied.

"Do not lose sight of him!" Haldir ordered.

"We will do our best, Nikerym." Again, it was Mythis who spoke.

Close to the middle of the deeping wall, Ardamil had Orophin on one side and Ascalonn on the other. They were in the midst of a knot of Rivendell elves and the ranger, Aragorn. Somewhere not too distant, Ardamil heard Gimli's deep, rolling voice. "Legolas! Two already!!"

At the sound of Legolas's voice, boasting almost gleefully and certainly without worry, that he had already felled seventeen of the enemy, Ardamil strained to see through the swarm of bodies, and his eyes caught sight of a flash of blondish hair, whipping wildly with the movements of its owner. A moment later, he heard Legolas's voice again.

"Nineteen!"

"He is actually counting!" Orophin exclaimed, as he knocked one of the enemy off the wall.

"Of course, he is," Ardamil replied. "He is Legolas!"

---

If this were the worst Saruman could throw at them, then it seemed to Legolas that evil was highly overestimated. Yes, there were thousands upon thousands of the enemy, yet they came on like creatures without reason, watching their companions get cut down one after the other, and then walking directly into the same manner of death.

Legolas felt like little more than a killing machine, and a part of him revolted at the thought that he had been reduced to such a state; yet it was a necessary reduction. There was no other choice but to fight. As the battle continued, time ceased to have any meaning in this world of darkness and death. He had long since run out of arrows, the rearm barrels were empty, and he was now plucking arrows indiscriminately out of the bodies of the fallen - both friend and enemy.

He had kept track of Haldir's location from the moment the battle had started, and he was doing everything in his power to move in the guardian's direction. It seemed to him that his former captain was drawing closer; and when Orophin, Ardamil and Ascalonn suddenly appeared directly in front of Legolas, the Prince of Mirkwood felt his hopes rise.

"I told you we would fight side-by-side," Ardamil said, ducking an uppercut while delivering a deadly sword thrust to the groin.

"You did, indeed!" Legolas replied. "But you have left our captain behind!"

It was Orophin who replied. "Not for long! The tide of battle swells this direction!"

Legolas looked past Orophin's shoulder. He could see Haldir as a swirl of red and gold, moving with power and grace like a dancer. Every now and then, he caught a glimpse of his face and the combination of complacency and controlled anger displayed thereon; and he was amazed that he had never seen such an expression on Haldir's face before. It filled him with a sense of sadness on the one hand, for it made him realize just how much pain Haldir must have endured; but on the other hand, it stirred up the fire within his soul. If, despite memories of deepest pain, Haldir could comport himself with such dignity on the battlefield, then Legolas would live up to his example.

So intent had Legolas been on Haldir's situation that he did not, at first, realize that someone was calling to him-screaming, in all actuality.

"Togohon dad, Legolas!!"

It was Aragorn. Legolas looked for the ranger, found him and saw where he was looking. Following his gaze, he saw an orc carrying a sparkling torch, heading for the culvert in the deeping wall.

"Togohon dad, Legolas! Dago hon!" Aragorn screamed urgently.

Legolas took aim and let fly, piercing the joint between shoulder and neck. Still, the orc did not go down.

"Dago hon!"

Legolas felt terror burst fully open within him as he nocked another arrow. He fired again, striking again. The orc stumbled the last few yards into the culvert.

Then the fires of Melkor shattered the night into a million pieces.

---

Lothlorien

"Come, Legolas! I thought you would be able to keep up with me by now!" Haldir's voice was filled with mirth.

Behind him, Legolas was pounding along, following the path Haldir was blazing through the woods. "I thought this was supposed to be fun. Ardamil told me it would be fun," he said.

"I am having a wonderful time," Haldir replied.

"Of course, you are. You are trying to run me into the ground! But you will not tire me out! I will outlast you!" Legolas insisted.

"Running? We have not run a single step," Haldir grinned back over his shoulder. "And need I remind you that you were the one who kept begging me to take you hiking?"

"No, you need not remind me," Legolas replied. "But I only thought that this would be a more . . . leisurely journey."

"It will be," Haldir replied. "Once we reach the foot of the hills."

"You are the leader," Legolas conceded. "But tomorrow, we switch roles."

"You do not know the terrain, Legolas," Haldir protested. "If I let you lead, we will end up hopelessly lost."

"I did not think you ever got lost," Legolas replied.

"There is always a first time," Haldir said. "And it would be perfectly fitting for you to lead me completely astray."

Legolas laughed. "I will do what I can."

By the late afternoon, they had gone far beyond the borders of Lorien into the foothills of the highlands to the south. Haldir led them up a narrow pass, across shallow, pebbly brooks and through whispering sun-drenched woods. When evening fell, they took to the trees and slung hammocks for the night. The following morning, they started before sunrise with a prayer, then Haldir allowed Legolas to lead, but under his direction. The day was scorching, and by noon, they were both feeling the heat.

"Can we not take a stop in the shade?" Legolas asked.

"There is an old quarry lake a little further up. We can stop there for a swim," Haldir replied.

Legolas nodded. "Very well, only I hope it is not too far."

"Five more minutes."

It was not quite five minutes when they came to a small, still, green-watered lake surrounded mostly by high steep walls of gray slate but with a modest sloping approachway on one side. On either side of the approach, the ground was a few feet higher, covered with a carpet of mossy grass. It was here that Haldir threw off his pack, then walked to the edge of the water, shedding garments as he went. He had dressed in sturdy hiking garb, in browns and greens and blacks, which now lay in a multi-colored trail between his pack and the water.

He stood completely naked at the water's edge, like a statue of the finest white marble, hands loose at his sides, relaxed muscles drawing exquisite lines of definition on his skin. Behind him and still on the grass, Legolas was removing his own clothing and admiring the bodily perfection visible before him. No matter how many times he saw it, and he had seen Haldir naked many times now, he still appreciated the beauty of his captain's body. Haldir did not put himself on display. In fact, he guarded his body from most eyes, the exception being the members of his patrol, where a different sense of modesty prevailed, the sort of modesty between brothers.

After surveying the water for several seconds, Haldir dove in. The water was pleasantly cool and soothing after the morning's journey. He came to the surface and turned to see Legolas coming to the water's edge. He had to admit to the sense of satisfaction he felt upon seeing Legolas's form, strong and full of vigor, standing there on the rim, hands on hips, feet planted in a broad stance. This was not the same wiry youth who had come to Lorien sixteen months ago. While Legolas was unchanged in essence-he was still impetuous and prone to taking risks-he now struck Haldir as a much grown elf. And although Haldir tried not to feel a certain degree of pride at the transformation, he found himself falling victim to that very greatest of vanities from time to time.

"Are you going to come in or just stand there the whole day for my admiration?" Haldir asked.

Legolas grinned. His eyes scanned up to a high ledge on the far side of the lake. He trotted along the shore and climbed up the rocks to the ledge, fully aware of Haldir's eyes on him.

"Legolas, what are you doing?" Haldir asked.

"I am going to dive in," Legolas replied.

Haldir gave a doubtful smile. "It is very high. You had better be careful."

Legolas struck a pose on the precipice. "Do you dare me?"

Haldir laughed. "I know better than that! There is nothing you would not dare."

"Then watch closely!" He swept out his arms and leapt from the cliff, arching his back into a stunning swan dive. He disappeared against the sun, and then emerged like an arc across the azure sky. A moment later he broke the water's surface with scarcely a ripple. When he came back up, it was with an eruption of laughter. "That was fantastic!!" He shook the water out of his eyes. "It is your turn now."

"I think not," Haldir replied, backpaddling. "I am not crazy."

"Crazy?! You let me do it!" Legolas exclaimed.

"Did you want me to stop you?"

"That would have been a challenge," Legolas replied, his manner incredibly cocky.

"A challenge for you," Haldir countered in kind. He disappeared beneath the surface and swam back to the approachway. "I have another challenge for you," he said as he walked out of the water.

Legolas regarded him through narrowed eyes. The water streamed in rivulets down Haldir's body, leaving glimmering droplets on the alabaster skin. It was a pleasant sight, one that Legolas was thoroughly enjoying. "I am listening."

"Come here to the shore."

Legolas did so, coming to stand beside Haldir. "I am here. What is your challenge?"

"I will race you," Haldir proposed.

"Race me? To where?"

"See there under that ledge . . . " Haldir nodded towards the enclosed end of the lake. "That small cave, it disappears into the water. On the other side it comes up again into a cavern. The cavern goes clear through the hillside, two or three hundred yards, and comes out in another old quarry, also filled with water. Whoever makes it into the water first, wins."

"You have an advantage," Legolas replied. "You are familiar with the way."

"I will give you a head start," Haldir offered.

"That won't be necessary!" Legolas declined, and in the next instant, he sprang forward, threw Haldir to the ground, then dove into the water.

Haldir got up, a cunning smile crossing his face. "Very well, then!" He leapt into the water behind Legolas, who was already halfway across the lake.

Legolas disappeared into the cave, and where the roof came down to meet the water, he went under, feeling along the smoothworn surface until he passed under the wall and came up in another cavern. Here, there was a wide, high tunnel roughly sixty or so yards long, and beyond its opening, Legolas could glimpse the billowing heads of thunder breakers. He swam several yards, then the water grew shallow, and he climbed out onto the cave floor, damp and covered with a fine silt.

He had not gone but a few steps when he heard Haldir come up in the pool of water behind him. A glance over his shoulder showed his captain already climbing out of the water. Legolas ran faster, but it was no use. Just short of the mouth of the cave, Haldir pulled alongside him and was about to overtake him. But then Haldir did something unexpected, throwing his weight into Legolas, knocking him off balance and tumbling him to the ground.

"That is for tricking me!" Haldir grinned wickedly.

"You are just jealous, because I was going to win!" Legolas replied, pulling up to his knees. "I am going to win!" He got to his feet and lunged forward as Haldir turned to resume the race. He caught him around the waist, and they both went down, Haldir landing on his front and Legolas on top of him. Pressed down beneath Legolas's body, Haldir was nearly hysterical with mirth.

"You had best get off of me before you regret it!" he gasped between bursts of laughter.

"You are a cheater!" Legolas accused playfully, grappling for Haldir's wrists.

"Oh! This from the Prince of all Cheaters!" Haldir replied, rolling onto his side as he tried to dislodge Legolas.

But Legolas had learned well from his captain and maintained his dominant position. They wrestled for a while in some degree of equality, but never with Haldir getting the upper hand. Legolas relished the feel of Haldir in his grasp, the warmth of his body, the tautness of his muscles, the way it felt to have Haldir struggling against him. For a moment, as he pinned Haldir beneath him, a wrist encircled in each hand and pressed to the ground on either side of his captain's head, he experienced a fleeting sense of awkwardness. It lasted only a few seconds, but then as he gazed down at Haldir, their flushed, grinning faces so close that Legolas could feel Haldir's breath on his skin, the feeling fled and Legolas spoke in a trembling voice, "I think I have finally won."

"You think so?" Haldir asked, and before Legolas knew what had happened, he was on his back beneath Haldir's weight. "You may have improved, but you could not beat me if you tried."

Legolas beamed up at him. "I am not sure I want to beat you," he said. "Losing to you has its benefits."

"Has it?"

"It has," Legolas reasserted, then after brief pause, he said quietly, "It helps me understand why they love you so much."

"They?"

"The patrol," Legolas replied. "You have some kind of . . . incredible hold over them. I have never seen anything like it, but now I am beginning to understand it. Their loyalty to you is astounding, and I am not hardpressed to wonder why."

Haldir's smile grew more brilliant. "They are dedicated to the protection of Lorien," he said. "I am only their captain."

"You know that is not true, Haldir. You are so much more to them," Legolas protested.

"What more could I be?" Haldir asked, and suddenly to Legolas, he seemed to come even closer.

"You-you are like the firstborn among brothers," he replied, his voice quaking. "They all look up to you . . . to teach them and protect them. I am no different from the rest of them."

Haldir gazed down at this handsome young prince who so clearly idolized him, and he was not sure what to make of it. "I am afraid we are becoming entirely too friendly," he said, but he was not sure that he meant it. "I am supposed to be your captain. How am I to command you when you are all flattery, and I am so willingly susceptible to it?"

"You can command me the same way you command the others," Legolas replied. "You are 'entirely too friendly' with them, as well. But they treat you with every respect, as will I."

"I am not too friendly with them," Haldir protested. "It is as you said, they are brothers to me. I treat them like brothers."

"And can you not treat me like a brother?"

"I do treat you like a brother-a brother who is also a prince and the son of a very powerful Elf lord and an honored guest for whom I have been made responsible," Haldir replied.

'But still a brother," Legolas persisted.

"Do I not already treat you like the others? Like a brother?"

"In some ways."

Haldir looked skeptical. "Then perhaps you will be so good as to tell me where I am deficient in my treatment of you."

Legolas did not hesitate. "This, for starters."

"This? What are you talking about?"

"Wrestling. You let the others win from time to time. You have never let me win."

"Let them win?" Haldir asked with an amused grin.

"That is how you let them know that you are now theirs, just as they are yours. It is the point at which you tell them that you are ready to give yourself to them," Legolas explained.

Haldir eyed him with mild astonishment. "And you picked all this up over the course of the past year and a half?"

"I had some help," Legolas admitted. "You are puzzling, but I was warned of that very early on. I have watched you and your interaction with the members of the patrol. You have a very particular leadership style."

Haldir regarded Legolas indulgently. "This is all very interesting," he said, "But I must own that I put no such degree of thought or planning into how I manage the patrol. Things simply happen the way they happen."

"You might believe that, but I do not," Legolas replied. "You make things happen, even if you do not realize it." He took a trembling breath. "There is no one like you, Haldir."

His words went straight to Haldir's heart. Haldir did not speak right away as he struggled for something to say. "Legolas," he began at last, "I will let you beat me one day . . . when I think the time is right." He straightened up and got to his feet, holding out a hand and drawing Legolas up as well.

"You think I am impatient," Legolas said.

"No," Haldir replied with a chuckle. "I think you are full of surprises." He took a step back and regarded Legolas's dirt-smeared body. "And you are filthy and hot and covered in perspiration. It is time for us to head back to the quarry. We can take a quick dip and then carry on up into the highlands. You see those storm clouds coming. We want to reach the caves before the rain comes."

"What about our race?"

"We can call it a tie," Haldir replied. "Come now, there is no time to lose. The caves are at least an hour away-we can race against the rain."

---

Haldir had one eye on the clouds as he pulled his clothes on. "It is going to be a powerful storm," he said. "You can hear the thunder already."

Legolas was also dressing hurriedly. "The wind is picking up."

Haldir hoisted his light pack and slipped his arms through the straps. "Quickly!"

They started at a fast trot up the mountain path, leaving the gradual slopes of the low hills for the narrow trails of the highlands. The black clouds chased them relentlessly as they crossed mile after mile. At length, crossing the treeline, they came to a large, open heather.

"Those cliffs are Manimott Shales," Haldir announced, nodding to a stretch of sheer rock faces half a mile distant. "They offer a spectacular view of the valley." He paused, then turned to face Legolas with a buoyant expression. "This can be our tiebreaker."

"A race?" Legolas asked.

"To the cliffs. No headstart this time."

Legolas did not speak again before springing into a run. Once again, the contest turned into a knock-down, drag-out competition of wills and wiles, cut-throat tactics and blatant trickery. Overhead, the storm rumbled and flashes of light lit up the clouds.

"We are going to get caught in the rain!" Haldir cried as he grappled with Legolas.

"You will not melt!" Legolas shot back, and with a mighty effort, he threw Haldir into a squat gorse bush. Even as he spoke, the sky opened and the rain came down in torrents.

Legolas was off again, crossing the last stretch of heather. He ran up to the ledge of the cliff, stopped with his toes just over the edge, spread his arms and raised his face to the sky.

"Victory!! Such a feeling!" he cried out joyfully. "At last, my senses are alive!" He glanced back over his shoulder. "Come, join me, Haldir!"

Haldir came up behind Legolas, halting several paces behind him. "Step away from the edge, Legolas," he said quietly.

Legolas threw his head back, opened his mouth and tasted the rain. "Don't be so dull, Haldir! Come! This is freedom!"

Haldir repeated his earlier entreaty. "Come away from there, Legolas."

Legolas turned a gleaming eye to regard Haldir with amusement. "Surely the gallant Captain of the Wide Patrol is not to be outdone by a mere Prince of Mirkwood."

"In foolhardiness, certainly," Haldir replied.

"You are calling me a fool?" Laugher resounded in Legolas's voice.

"I know of no other word to describe an elf who stands on such a precipice, in the rain and wind, when a single strong gust could carry him over the side," Haldir replied.

"So eloquently spoken! Yet, I will dare you to come stand here!"

"And if I am swept over?" Haldir asked, taking a step closer.

"Then I shall go over after you!"

Haldir could not suppress a smile. "Then we should both be dashed to pieces."

"Say what you will, but I will not move until you have joined me."

Without another moment's hesitation, Haldir strode forward and stood next to Legolas. He leaned far out over the edge, turning his head to cast a challenge in his companion's direction. "Does this satisfy you?"

"It does, indeed!"

"Good." Haldir stepped back again. "Now, I have done as you asked, and you must honor your word and st-" His voice broke off in abrupt terror. The single strong gust of which he had spoken now swept up behind them, catching Legolas's elven cloak like a sail. Haldir grabbed his arm as he toppled over the edge. The momentum threw Haldir to the ground, but he held on. With his other hand, he reached down desperately, grabbing the neck of Legolas's jerkin. "Grab my arms!!" he cried out.

Legolas wrapped the fingers of one hand around Haldir's wrist. The other arm stretched up and gripped him above the elbow. With his feet, he tried to find a purchase in the face of the cliff.

"Stop!!" Haldir ordered. "Do not try to help! Just let me pull you up!"

Legolas stopped struggling. He looked up into Haldir's face, high color lighting the Lorien elf's cheeks, determination showing in his eyes. Then, with one mighty and fluid effort, he found himself drawn up over the edge to safety. He lay on his back for several seconds, trying to catch his breath. Besdie him, Haldir slid slowly to the ground and gave a great sigh of relief.

At length, Legolas spoke. "You may chastise me as much as you please."

"And how should a captain chastise a prince?" Haldir asked in such a way that Legolas knew no answer was to be given, and so he remained silent. Haldir rolled onto his stomach and peered over the edge of the cliff. "That I might have had to bear the ill news of disaster back to Caras Galadhon . .. " He paused, still staring down into the grayness below.

Legolas crawled up beside him, pressed himself flat onto the ground, and looked over the edge.

Haldir continued. "And all because I had not the presence of mind to force prudence upon you."

Legolas looked at Haldir, whose focus was even now down in the reaches far below them. "I think you know quite well how to chastise a prince." He saw Haldir smiled. But he saw something else, as well. There was warmth in the flushed cheek that rose above the smiling mouth. There was mirth and brilliance in that smile. There was incredible strength and control in the body that had pulled him to safety. But these things had always been there. Legolas had noticed them the first time he had set eyes on Haldir and every day that he had been in Haldir's presence. Indeed, their existence could not be overlooked. Yet, inexplicably, Legolas felt as if he were seeing Haldir for the first time. The perfections he had once envied now represented something else - a temptation beyond resistance.

After a short time, during which only the wind and the rain could be heard, Haldir said in a voice of concession, "It is breathtaking."

Legolas forced his attention back down into the valley. "Yes, it is."

Another strong gust of wind came; this time it rose up the face of the cliff, blasting the two elves face-long, whipping their hair into tangles of sodden gold. They both laughed at the sensation.

"You look absurd!!" Haldir exclaimed.

Legolas turned his head and was about to reply, but he could not. Haldir was looking at him, brightness in a world of cloud and rain. Radiance to dispel even the deepest gloom. The face of the sun.

What happened then was one of the most bizarre, wonderful, repulsive and tender moments of Legolas's life. He did not know what was going on in Haldir's mind, nor was he sure whether or not he had imagined the slight movement Haldir made towards him. But it hardly mattered, for the moment Legolas perceived what he thought was a tentative advance, he reacted with the full intensity of his youthful body and met Haldir more than halfway, pressing towards him until his mouth met Haldir's in what was Legolas's first and would always be remembered as the most incredible kiss of his life.

For many years afterwards, Legolas would try to force himself to recall the kiss as being brief and without any sensuality. But the truth was that it had been deeply involved and passion-filled, as any first kiss should be. It was not short and it was not sterile. It was not the kiss of the seal, but something altogether different. Legolas did not back down, and neither did Haldir. It seemed to last forever, which was not long enough while it was taking place and was too long once it was over.

Legolas, becoming abruptly aware of what was happening, was the one to draw away; and when he did, he saw Haldir looking at him, a strange mixture of curiosity and compassion on his face. The guardian was not disgusted or angry. He appeared to be mildly stunned, but nothing more. He was Haldir as he had always been.

Legolas, on the other hand, was in utter chaos, unable to find his voice.

"That was unexpected," Haldir said with a gentle smile.

This statement, spoken without judgment, was meant to ease the obvious shock displayed on Legolas's face. But it was too late.

Legolas got to his feet and stumbled backwards, away from the edge of the cliff, his mind reeling with confusion. What had he just done? He knew the answer to that. He had kissed his captain and his friend - not the kiss of brotherhood, but a kiss of passion, a kiss of desire. A kiss that never should have taken place. How could it have happened? How could Haldir have lured him into such an action? How could he have allowed himself to be so lured? He felt as if he had completely lost control of his senses, given them up to an elf was beautiful and clever and sensual, who was demanding, seductive, and brilliant. He had lost himself. He had lost his dignity, his pride, but even more threatening . . . he had lost every idea of himself that he had ever had.

"Legolas . . . " Haldir stood up.

Legolas turned his back. He could not bear to look at him. He began picking his way back up to the trail.

"Legolas, wait!"

Legolas stopped. He waited. As horrified as he was over what had happened, even greater was his need for an explanation, some reason for his actions. "I don't feel that way about you!" he blurted out suddenly.

"I know that," Haldir replied evenly, the kindness still in his voice. "I do not think either of us feels that way about the other."

"Then why did it happen?!" Legolas demanded, whirling around to pin Haldir with a strangely pained glare.

Haldir stared back at him with impeccable calm. "It was the work of the moment."

"Oh, that is not true, and you know it!" Legolas cried.

"It happened because you love me," Haldir went on. "And you do not need to feel horrified at that truth."

Legolas's mind was in an uproar. "Yes, I love you-of course, I do! How could I not?! They all love you! It is expected, is it not?" He spoke rapidly as if he had much to get out of him. "It is one of the things you demand, and-and I gladly gave it! But I never-I never wanted this!"

"Legolas, it was only a kiss," Haldir replied. "You have seen me kiss Ardamil, Lostilsil, my brothers, every member of the patrol many times-"

"This is different, Haldir!" Legolas persisted. "When you kiss them, it is-is it not a thing of passion!"

"There is no need to be so upset," Haldir said, trying to soothe Legolas's outrage. "It was a strange thing to happen, an oddity. It wasn't anything either of us had planned. And it is over."

"Is that all you have to say?" Legolas ground out.

Haldir hesitated. "I am not sure what else is appropriate."

Legolas groaned and headed for the trail again. He hardly understood his feelings, which were so tumultuous and contradictory that he could not sift one from the other. He was disgusted at what he had done, for he had honestly believed that his admiration for Haldir had been without any motive that would propel him to commit such an act. But he was also incensed by Haldir's calm dismissal of what had happened. It was as if Haldir did were completely disinterested in the entire thing.

"Legolas," Haldir started after him.

"They warned me about you," Legolas said, as he continued to walk. "They told me this would happen."

Haldir was perplexed, and a terrible fear began to swell inside him. Ardamil's warnings, which had seemed so long ago, now came back to him in force. "Who told you what? What did they say would happen?" he asked anxiously.

"I should have listened to them," Legolas went on. "I have been such a fool."

Haldir grabbed his arm and spun him around. "Who told you what?"

Legolas jerked away and turned a glare on him. "I let myself grow intrigued with you, thinking all along that it was all in innocence, but the truth is that you lure elves in. You make them feel as if they are a part of you, as if they alone have a special closeness to you!" came the heated charge. "You make them contemplate and do things they would not normally do! I would not normally have done . . . that!"

Haldir stared at him, dumbfounded. "What are you talking about? Legolas, we are friends. Where is all this coming from? Are you so disturbed by one kiss?"

"Yes!" Legolas burst out. "How can I not be disturbed by it?! It is impossible for me to love you in that way, and yet look at what has happened!"

"You are only confused, Legolas," Haldir replied. "It happens. You are not the first-"

"I know that, as well," Legolas cut him off, his voice caustic. "They told me you could be charming when it suited you, that you had your favorites, and that those favorites change. How well I see that now. I will not be the next Ardamil-"

Haldir's voice was tightly controlled. "Who told you these things? It was not any one of the patrol, I know that. And it certainly was not Ardamil."

"Does it matter? It is the truth."

"It is not the truth," Haldir protested warmly. "It has never been the truth-"

Legolas cut him off again. "Are you defending yourself now out of fear for your position? Now that your charge is angry? The honored guest? The Prince of Mirkwood, Thranduil's son. You need not fear. I have no intention of exposing my own weakness in order to expose your duplicity." He turned once again, but Haldir stopped him with a strong hand on his shoulder.

"Enough of this, Legolas," the guardian said gravely. "I have heard such charges before from a certain few elves. Tell me who said these things to you." Legolas tried to pull away, but Haldir had grown stern. "We are not elflings, and I will not play these games. Who told you these things?"

"Take your hand off of me," Legolas said with warning in his voice.

Haldir stared at him for several seconds. He could force the issue, but that would do no good. It was more likely that it would cause more damage, and that was unthinkable. Legolas meant too much to him to risk any further upset.

"You are too distressed to discuss this rationally." He let go of Legolas, turned, and without another word, began heading back along the path.

"You will not tell anyone about this?" Legolas called out, half statement, half question.

Haldir's reply was dull. "What would I tell them?"

Legolas's answer was meant to injure and it caught both of them by surprise. "You might share with them the secret of your success. Your wonderful style of leadership by seduction. And all along, I believed that the patrol was bound to you by-"

Before he could finish, Legolas found himself laid out flat. Haldir stood over him, eyes wide with anger. "Do not ever say anything like that again."

Legolas gingerly touched the back of his hand to his mouth. His hand came back with blood on it. "Another facet of your leadership?" he asked bitterly.

"And are these the manners that the Mirkwood princes are taught? Your conduct is disgraceful," Haldir spat. "Up until only a few minutes, you thought the world of me. Then you kissed me-you kissed me!-and now you are raving like a spoiled child. If you are feeling guilty over what you did, then be sorry for it and done with it. Do not blame me for decisions that you make on your own."

Legolas leapt to his feet and lunged at him. They fell to the ground together, and a scuffle ensued. Legolas found himself once again humbled by Haldir's superior strength, but then, suddenly, Legolas was on top and Haldir had stopped fighting.

Haldir looked up at the outraged elf atop him. "You wanted me to let you win," he said with no hint of emotion.

Legolas made a sound like a cry of pain. He got to his feet and raised his face to the rain to cool his burning cheeks and disguise the tears that were forming in his eyes.

"I was warned, too, Legolas," Haldir said, standing up. "I was warned about you, but I disregarded those warnings. I believed in my own hopes. I still do. This was a mistake, Legolas-nothing more."

"You do not even care, do you?" Legolas said. He did not wait for an answer but started heading back up to the trail. He could not stop shaking. He could not overcome the terrible feeling that everything had been ruined, that he had been made a fool of by the one elf whom he had counted as the most amazing friend he had ever had. The greatest brightness in his life risked becoming abhorrent to him. Haldir's complacency over the kiss had appalled him, but the thought that Haldir had been working on him as if he had been no more than the latest conquest was even more despicable. It was unforgivable.

They had been walking for nearly an hour when Haldir sidled up next to Legolas. "When we get back to Caras Galadon, if you decide to stay in Lorien, I will arrange for you to go to another patrol, if that is your wish."

"I do not want to think about it right now," Legolas replied.

"I thought you might rather not see me anymore," Haldir said.

"I do not want to talk to you right now!" Legolas exploded, breaking into a run for twenty or thirty yards, anything to put some distance between him and Haldir. He was breathing hard, and not from the exertion. There was some other emotion, something between fear and hatred that made his entire body shake.

It might have been because of that shaking that Legolas did not recognize the rumbling sound and feeling of vibration as anything unusual at first. But then suddenly, he realized the trembling was coming from outside him, and Haldir's cry of warning confirmed it.

Legolas whirled around to see Haldir looking at a point above them. Legolas looked straight up to see the mountainside crashing down towards him. Before he could even think of moving, he caught a flash of movement in the corner of his eye and felt the blow as Haldir hurtled into him, sending him through the air to land several yards further down the trail. A deafening roar filled his ears. He raised his head to see a torrent of mud, rock, and water cascading down behind him.

The path was gone. And so was Haldir.

Legolas scrambled to the edge of the trail and looked over. The landslide was still in motion, plunging ever further down the mountain. Legolas strained his eyes through the rain. For a split-second, he saw a blur of gold which disappeared in the tidal wave of falling rock.

"Haldir!!" he cried, his voice drowned out against the tumult. His eyes searched frantically through the shifting mass of debris; and at last, as the slide ran itself out, the splash of color appeared again, a hundred yards below.

Legolas called out again and again, but no response was forthcoming. A terrible fear gripped him, and he looked for a way to go down. The path he was on made a switchback down the hillside not fifty yards away. This was the direction he took, for it was too steep to try and go straight down the hill, especially with the instability. He ran almost recklessly, rounding the switchback and following the path to the place just below where Haldir was lying. He scrabbled up the few rock-strewn yards between them, and dropped to his knees beside him.

Right away, he could see that Haldir was badly injured. The guardian was unconscious, blood streaming from a wound that stretched from his left temple back over his ear, disappearing into a bloodied tangle of matted hair. Another abrasion, oozing red, ran along his jaw. A deep, jagged gouge ran the length of one leg, pouring forth a dangerous torrent of blood. The only other immediately noticeable damage was his right arm, which was twisted at an unnatural angle.

"Haldir!" Legolas's voice was as urgent as his touch, meant to rouse, was gentle.

"Haldir! Can you hear me?"

Haldir did not move.

Legolas's mind began to fill with scenarios, each one more ghastly than the next. He checked for more injuries, while at the same time fighting against the image of Haldir bleeding to death, for even the Elven self-healing ability had its limits. What if Haldir never woke up and died there on the mountainside? Legolas's heart was racing, and every limb shook with fear. What was he to do? They had taught him in the patrol how to tend the injured, but it was as if that knowledge had been crushed along with the body of his captain.

"Stop the bleeding. At least, stop the bleeding," he told himself out loud. "He is losing too much blood."

The medic's kit had been in Haldir's pack, which was now gone. Legolas resorted to whatever was at hand. He removed his drenched cloak, cut notches in one end, then tore three strips off. The rest he rolled into a bundle, which he pressed into the wound on Haldir's leg, then fixed the make-shift bandage in place with the strips of cloth. As he was doing this, Haldir stirred, a soft groan escaping his lips.

"Haldir!" Legolas leaned close and gingerly touched his fingers to Haldir's cheek.

Haldir's eyes opened. His gaze wandered in aimless confusion for a few seconds before coming to rest on Legolas.

"Legolas . . . " he murmured, his voice feeble. He tried to sit up, but his body was not cooperating.

"Lie quietly," Legolas insisted. "You are injured."

"What-what happened?" Haldir asked.

"The mountain came down," Legolas replied, his voice trembling. "You were caught in it."

The recollection came back to Haldir quickly. "Are you hurt?" he asked.

"No, I am not," Legolas replied. A nervous pause. "What do I do, Haldir? I do not know what to do."

Haldir did not reply right away. He made an internal survey of his hurts, and judging from the level of pain, concluded that he was seriously injured in several places. He could not move his right arm at all; and although there was pain in the arm, it was tolerable. His leg was another matter, for it felt as if it were swollen out of the skin. He could move it barely, but each attempt sent spasms of pain shooting throughout its length.

"My leg hurts very badly," he said at last. "What can you see?"

"You have a long, deep gash along the outside, all the way from your hip to your ankle," Legolas replied. "I bandaged it as best I could. It did not feel like it was broken, but it was very deep, down to the bone in some places." He took a deep breath to try and steady his breathing. "Your arm is broken. I am afraid to try and set it. It looks bad."

"I hardly feel it," Haldir replied, which was not quite the truth, but given the pain in his leg, it was, by comparison, mild.

"Your head is bleeding, too," Legolas went on, indicating the gash above his ear. "The-the medic's kit is gone, and I do not know what to do. I bound up your leg, but now I do not know what to do."

Haldir's voice was strained but calm. "What else can we use as bandages?" he asked, closing his eyes again.

Legolas rummaged through his own pack. "We could use my hammock."

Haldir managed a nod. "Do it."

Legolas spent the next thirty minutes doing his best to tend to Haldir's injuries. He fixed his arm securely against his chest, working past Haldir's grimaces and stifled cries of pain. He blotted the blood from the head injury and covered the wound with strips from the hammock. When he had finished, he noticed the gray that had crept in Haldir's complexion.

"Haldir?"

"Yes," Haldir answered, the tone of his voice belying his attempt at controlling the pain.

"What now? What should I do?"

Haldir opened his eyes once again. "We can not stay here," he said.

"But-but can you walk?"

"I will have to," Haldir replied. "You will have to help me."

"Where can we go?" Legolas asked. "There is no way you can make it back down to Lorien."

"Remember where the pathways split, right below the treeline?"

"Yes."

"Take the other path . . ." Haldir's voice was growing thin. "There are caves."

"Haldir, I do not think you can walk-"

"We have no choice, Legolas . . . help me stand."

Legolas put his arms around him and lifted him to his feet.

Haldir wavered. The world spun around him for several seconds; and when it steadied, he was left with the pain. Legolas slipped under his shoulder and began picking a way down to the path. It took over an hour to get below the treeline to where the path split. The rain continued to fall in driving sheets that obscured the trail from time to time and turned the entire mountainside into snaking rivulets, making the going even more arduous.

Another hour passed before they reached the caves. They did not speak a word on the way; and by the time they got there, Haldir was barely conscious, leaning his entire weight against Legolas for support. Legolas picked the first cave they came to, the mouth of which was blocked by a wide, shallow pool of water with stepping stones across it. He took Haldir across and laid him on the ground inside.

"Haldir?" he asked, looking over his captain's injuries. The bandages on his leg and head were saturated with blood, and his breathing was rapid and shallow. "Haldir?"

"My side," Haldir whispered. "S-something is wrong."

Legolas loosened the belt at Haldir's waist, parted his jerkin and lifted the shirt beneath. A quiet gasp passed through his lips. Haldir's lower right side was swollen and mottling with bruises.

"You are bruising," Legolas said, swallowing down his horror. "That means you are bleeding inside."

"Put something cold . . . and heavy on it," Haldir instructed.

Legolas took the remains of his hammock, soaked it in the pool, then placed it over Haldir's abdomen. "What else can I do?"

"There was wood in the back," Haldir replied. "Can you st-start a fire?"

Legolas went into the back of the cave and found a stack of branches. Within moments, he had a fire going. He watched Haldir for several minutes, and his level of anxiety grew. There was no way they would ever make it back to the borders of Lorien with Haldir in his current condition. And Legolas could not be sure that Haldir's body would heal itself. What more could he do? He had to get help somehow. He walked out to the mouth of the cave and looked into the growing darkness. Evening was falling.

If he ran, he could make it back to Lorien in perhaps twelve hours. He glanced back over his shoulder into the cave, and a thought arose unbidden in his mind.

'And it will get me away from him.'

His conscience recoiled in horror at this callous and hideous thought. He could not be so petty and without feeling as to seriously entertain such an idea. The fact was that Haldir needed help, and he was going to have to be the one to bring that help. There were no other factors involved. He dismissed the intruding thought as an aberration, much like-much like the aberration on the cliffs of Manimott Shales. He turned and went back inside the cave.

"I must go back and bring help."

"No, Legolas," Haldir protested weakly, turning his head to regard him over the flames.

"I can not just sit here, Haldir" Legolas replied intensely. "You need help, more than I can give you. I have to go bring help."

"Legolas, no!" Haldir's voice was strained and, if Legolas were not mistaken, verging on panic. "You can not leave me here alone. If anything were to happen, I am helpless."

"But you need help, Haldir! I can not stand by and let you suffer like this!"

Haldir drew in a shallow, struggling breath. "Send word by one of the animals," he said at last.

Legolas wondered if Haldir was even aware of what he was saying. "I can not do that, Haldir! I have never been able to learn that!"

"Legolas, please!" There was desperation in Haldir's voice. "You must try."

Legolas hesitated a moment, then returned to the mouth of the cave. The rain was still coming down; there would be no animals out in such weather. He crossed the stepping stones and jogged along the trail twenty, then thirty yards. There was not a bird in the sky or the trees; not a deer or badger or wild pig in the undergrowth; not a fox or rabbit or even a hardy mountain hare. Every creature had gone to ground against the storm.

Legolas raised his voice in the ancient tongue. He had learned from Haldir that the language was common to the wilderness and the hedgerow, to the plains and the watery places of Arda.

"I need help!" he called out. "I am of the Firstborn, of the Gardens of Ulmo! I am in desperate need of help! My friend is injured!"

There came no answer.

Legolas repeated his plea, moving ever further down the path. And still he was met with silence. He was not even sure he was saying the right words or using the right intonation. For all he knew, he might be receiving replies, but he was not attuned to them. Legolas could read the signs of nature-that he had learned well; but he had never had much success communicating with it. He felt that deficiency most keenly now.

And then, as he was about to give up, he heard a voice - it sounded like a slight tapping on a drum, and yet he could discern words.

"Why do you cry out so?"

Legolas looked about him anxiously. "Who speaks?"

"Here, on your shoulder."

Legolas craned his neck, and there on his shoulder was a wood bee - a hornet.

"My friend is badly hurt. I must get word back to the elves in Lothlorien," Legolas replied.

"I have not heard of the place of which you speak," the hornet replied. "But then, my world is very small. I shall tell the bear. She is my friend, and she knows many creatures who travel great distances. Where is your friend?"

"In the caves further down the trail," Legolas replied.

"Those I know. I shall go now. I know where to find the bear." With that, the hornet was off, dodging rain drops into the forest.

Legolas turned and was about to run back to the cave with news of this hopeful encounter. Yet, he stopped before taking a step. If he went back, he would have to face two enemies: Haldir in pain, which was a terrible thing to see; and the recollection that seeing Haldir forced upon him of that awful moment on the cliff. At that instant, Legolas did not feel strong enough to deal with either one.

He trudged to a moss-covered boulder on the side of the path and leaned against it. He was already wet, so the falling rain mattered little to him. His mind reeled in confusion. He did not know what to make of his own actions, and he knew even less what to make of his reaction to those actions. He was angry at Haldir, but that anger seemed like a subterfuge, a disguise to hide what was really gnawing away at him: the fact that it had been his own initiative that had brought about the kiss. He had long been aware of the pleasure he gained looking at Haldir, touching him, and being touched by him. And he certainly was not going to dismiss the truth of the matter, which was that Haldir had given him an abundance of opportunities to indulge his pleasure. Haldir had withheld nothing that might have contributed to Legolas's happiness.

"Except the seal," Legolas said to the wind. "Why would he withhold that from me? Unless Nenstil and Flagon were right? Oh, that still does not answer the question of why I kissed him! I do not desire him in that way!"

"You cause yourself pointless grief."

Legolas jumped to the alert, his eyes darting among the trees. "Who said that?"

"I am yew tree, but I speak for all present."

Legolas was silent.

"Your friend has passed this way before. He is well known among the creatures here. That is why some of us are willing to talk to you. The truth is, word had already been sent moments after the fall. Hornet did not know. He was being kind, because the rest feared you."

"Why would they fear me?"

"They fear anything unknown, even if it be one of the First-born. Erukyerme Nyello (Praise-singer) has been ever kind to them, and they fear him not. He rouses them to glorify the One. They are fearful now, because he has taken serious hurt. They fear if he departs, they shall never sing again." The yew was silent for a moment, then, "Will you take his place?"

Legolas turned wide-eyed. "Take his place?"

"You are speaking the language. And the wind has heard you before. She said you sing the prayers, the great songs of the Ainur as told in the Ainulindale and the Valaquenta."

"The songs of the Ainur! That music has been lost, corrupted by one whose name I will not mention! No, I have naught to do with such lofty things!" Legolas protested.

"Then why do you sing them?"

"I do not!"

"When you sing or recite the prayers with Erukyerme Nyello, you are taking part in the music of the Ainur. Did he not tell you that?"

Legolas was awestruck. "No, he never told me that." He could sense puzzlement in the air around him.

Another voice, airy light and traveling, spoke. "Then I do not understand why you take part with him."

"Who speaks now?"

"I am the wind. I have watched you often with him. Tell me, why do you take part with him?"

"Be-because I want to be close to him," Legolas replied. "I admire him, and I want to be like him."

"How can you be like him but not know of the music of the Ainur? Has he not told you what he is, and what it would mean for you to be like him?"

Legolas was utterly confused. "I-I do not know," he stammered.

"Then you must ask him, and he must tell you. You can not be like him, if you do not know what he is."

"What is he?"

"He is one who has not forgotten," the yew replied, and Legolas could sense a murmur of agreement around him.

Then another voice, deep and tremulous, spoke out urgently. "He calls for you. He is fearful."

Legolas hesitated not a second but ran back towards the cave, and as he sprang across the stepping stones, he could hear Haldir's voice, thin and breathless, saying his name. He knelt down beside him. "I am here, Haldir."

Haldir regarded him with eyes that refused to focus. "I thought you had left," he said in a whisper.

"No, no, Haldir. I am not going to leave you, I give you my word," Legolas assured him. "I . . . I did it. They spoke to me."

A shadow of a smile showed on Haldir's face. "I knew you could do it."

"It will not be long before help arrives," Legolas said. He paused. "Are you warm enough?"

A nod.

"Could you eat or drink something?"

"No," Haldir replied. "Please just-just stay with me."

"I will." Legolas settled down beside him. For a long time, he watched the fire crackle and hiss, and he listened to Haldir's breathing grow quiet and steady, as the Elven healing powers took over. After several hours, the flames had lowered, and Haldir began to shiver.

Legolas brought another armful of the sparse kindling from the back of the cave. He stoked the fire, but the flames were slow to respond. He lay down beside Haldir, pressing his body close, knowing it would do little good, but hoping to share whatever body heat could pass between them. He could not even put his arm around him, for fear of hurting him; and so he did the only other comforting thing he could think of doing.

He began to sing.

Softy, almost a whisper, there arose the ancient words of an ancient song that Haldir had sung many times, a lesser version of the song he had sung on Legolas's first patrol, when the forces of nature had responded with all their might. This song was nothing so grand; it was humble and imploring. And Legolas had absolutely no idea whether his voice singing it would be heeded. He was not Haldir, and he had no reason to suppose that his petitions would be as efficacious as his captain's. He sang several verses, but nothing happened. He fell silent, but Haldir urged him on.

"Do not stop, Legolas. It comforts me."

Legolas needed no further impetus. He took up where he left off. He closed his eyes and concentrated on the words, and then something amazing happened. He could hear other voices singing with his - thousands, millions of voices, all raised in glorious splendor. They seemed to come from all around him, from within him, from the farthest reaches of Ea, and beyond. And discernible among all the voices, among all the sounds of beauty, was Haldir's voice. Yet, he knew Haldir was not physically singing. No, he was singing somewhere deep inside, in a place where Legolas could still find him among millions.

Legolas reveled in the experience, but then the music began to swell. It swelled to unbearable proportions, threatening to overwhelm Legolas's senses. He had to stop singing, but he could not. He did not know how. It was as if he had gone beyond the clouds, and now there was no way to stop the current that sent him mounting towards the heavens. And then he perceived a word, spoken by whom he knew not; and the singing stopped.

When he opened his eyes, he saw the fire had grown high and strong. He pushed up onto his elbow and looked down at Haldir who was regarding him with a serenity that was in stark contrast to the rest of his appearance.

"The same thing happened to me the first time," he said, and his voice was still wispy. "But He does not will to hurt us, so He directs its closure."

"Is that-is that what happens to you every time?"

"When I began," Haldir replied. "It is much greater now."

"Greater than that?!"

"Much greater."

"I do not think I could have endured anything greater," Legolas said in wonder.

"Of course, you can," Haldir replied. "He will show you."

This was too much for Legolas to contemplate, too incredible a concept. He was not completely sure what had just happened, but he knew what he had felt. He had felt himself a part of something so immense, so unfathomable that he had almost lost himself in it. And yet, he had not been insignificant. There had been rejoicing over his presence. He had felt as if he had belonged, as if something or someone cherished him. It had been both incredibly exhilarating and incredibly frightening. In the ecstasy of that consuming love, he had known that some part of him was dying-a part of him that he was not willing to surrender. He shuddered. These were mind-boggling thoughts. He turned to something more concrete. "Did it help you?"

"It helped my spirits."

"And your body?"

Haldir swallowed. "No, Legolas. He will not break the rules - not even for me." He paused, gathering his strength. "This will not heal on its own, Legolas. I can feel that much. I require a healer."

Legolas was quiet for several seconds, then he asked hesitantly, "Are you scared, Haldir?"

Haldir answered after a long silence. "I am afraid, but not of dying. The thought of Mandos has never frightened me. I am afraid that I will mourn for what I leave behind." He paused. "Are you afraid?"

"Yes," Legolas replied. "I am afraid of this moment, right now. I am afraid that I am not doing everything I can. And I am afraid-afraid that I have lost your friendship, that I have confused things beyond hope, beyond reason."

Haldir's voice was gentle. "I am not confused," he said. "After hearing you sing that prayer, I am more certain now than ever." He looked directly into Legolas's eyes and saw the apprehension there. "Come closer."

Legolas hesitated.

"You must trust me, Legolas," Haldir insisted. "I am fully aware of what I am doing."

Legolas leaned closer.

"More," Haldir said, and Legolas drew nearer.

With considerable effort, Haldir raised his head until his lips touched Legolas's in a kiss of great tenderness, despite its brevity. It was completely unlike the kiss on the cliffs of Manimott Shales. It bespoke a bond, a love so immense that Legolas felt he could never fill its boundaries.

"That is my seal," Haldir said, lying back. "It is not the bond I had hoped to give you." His voice was growing weak again. "I wanted more for you. . . but right now it is impossible."

"It is enough for me," Legolas said, a smile gracing his beautiful features. "Nothing more do I want . . . except to do the same for you." He leaned down, and this time the kiss was one of brotherhood and compassion. And it felt right; it felt wonderful. He drew back. "I have been horrible to you. How can you forgive me? How can you even bear to look upon me?"

Haldir smiled. "Silly questions," he whispered, closing his eyes.

Legolas knew he would sleep now, and so he was silent.

---

The night passed slowly. Haldir woke up in delirium several times, murmuring incoherently until Legolas could soothe him back into sleep. Legolas did not sleep at all, but maintained vigilant watch. By morning, Haldir's breathing had grown liquidy, and his pallor was ghostly. As the first rays of sunlight crept through the mists and into the cave, Legolas got up and fueled the fire again, after which he had only enough wood for one more stoking. He then went to the mouth of the cave, crossed the stepping stones and went out into the damp, misted morning.

He trotted down the path to where he had heard the yew tree.

"I am here again," he announced. "Is there any who will speak to me?"

"I will speak to you." It was the yew tree.

"Is there any word? Is help coming?" Legolas asked anxiously.

"I have heard nothing, but that does not signify. If the wind were here, she could tell us; but alas, today there is no wind," the yew replied. "It was hawk that took word back to the hill of the Firstborn. Hawk will lead them here. Any report of their movement likely goes by the trees, and we are notoriously slow." A thoughtful pause. "But Hawk often sends messages through other flying creatures. Perhaps . . . "

A moment later, Legolas recognized the small voice that had been his first encounter with the vast world of Aluvater's other creations. It was the hornet, alighting on the back of his hand.

"Hawk guides them even now. They set out in the middle of the darkness," he explained.

"They could be here by late afternoon," Legolas said hopefully. "I must tell Haldir!"

"How is Erukyerme Nyello?" the yew tree asked. "We heard the song in the night, but it was not his voice that led it. You were the singer."

"Yes, it was I," Legolas replied. "He is not well at all. He grows weaker, and there is nothing I can do. I sang the song because I thought it would give him peace. And it did, for a while."

"Others of the Firstborn have used 'uminuae' root to give peace to pain," the yew tree offered.

"I am afraid to give him anything, his injuries are so diverse," Legolas said.

"If you change your mind, I can tell you where it grows," came the reply. "The spot is also a good place to see down into the valley. You will be able to see those whom you await, perhaps."

"That is good to know," Legolas said gratefully. "I may ask you to give me that information later on."

"I shall come and tell you if I hear more from the winged creatures," the hornet assured him. "For in the last darkness, I heard the song for the first time. I am only recently come into the world, and my life is short; but I wish to hear it again."

"You shall," Legolas promised. "I give you my word. You have been a friend to me. I shall not forget it." A pause. "I must go back to Haldir. I do not like leaving him alone."

"We shall watch for the arrival of your friends," the yew tree said.

"I am indebted to you," Legolas replied, then he turned and went back to the cave.

Entering, he found Haldir now conscious.

"There is news," Legolas announced, kneeling down beside him. "A party has set out from Lorien."

Haldir gave a feeble smile but said nothing. Speaking had become an effort.

Legolas touched him gently. "It will not be much longer."

A minute nod was all the response he received.

Although Legolas had been relieved at the thought that deliverance was now being measured in hours, he discovered that hours of waiting were the slowest in passing. Late in the afternoon, the rain began to fall again. Legolas grew worried, for there had come no word that the rescuers were any closer. As the sun began to set, he could stay his concern no longer.

"Haldir?"

Haldir did not open his eyes and gave no response.

"Haldir?!" Legolas cried urgently, shaking him.

Haldir's eyes opened abruptly. "Wh-what has happened?!"

Legolas almost collapsed in relief. "Nothing, nothing has happened. I only-I wanted to tell you that I am going to go out for a few minutes to see if I can spot them coming. Will you be alright?"

"Yes . . . go," Haldir replied, then he asked, "More wood?"

"There is no more," Legolas replied. "And I do not think I will find anything outside that is dry enough. It has been damp the whole day, and it is raining again now."

"Cold . . ."

Legolas looked into his pack, but there was nothing there that would help; so he emptied it of its contents and placed in it the glowing embers, bringing forth a small flame. "It is the best I can do, Haldir."

Haldir only nodded.

"I am going now," Legolas said. "I will not be long." He stepped out into the rain and ran down the path to the yew tree. Before he had even announced himself, the yew tree spoke.

"You are back."

"No one has come yet, and my friend is much worse," Legolas eplained. "I thought they would be here by now."

"I will have wren guide you to the opening in the forest. You will be able to look down into the valley from there. And he will show you uminuae; it may be helpful," the yew said.

"Thank you," Legolas said, and a moment later a white-breasted wren alighted on a branch in front of him. "Show me!"

He followed the bird through untrailed woods. Twenty minutes later, he came to a treeless, rocky outcropping that afforded a far-reaching view of the valley he and Haldir had come up the day before. It was partly obscured in rain and fog, but Legolas searched as far as his eyes could penetrate. The wren went down into the valley for him, darting through the trees, skimming over the trail, but there was nothing to see.

Nothing to see in the valley.

---

By the time Haldir recognized the sounds of movement, it was too late. The voices that followed were directly over him.

"Look at that. He's an elf."

"So he is. Sedog was right. These hills are filled with hidden treasure." There was a suggestive hint in the tone.

They were the voices of men.

The first voice spoke again. "There may be more of them. Check the back. I'll look over here."

During the half-minute that followed, Haldir's mind, grown ever more sluggish as his injuries continued to take their toll, teetered between two thoughts: Who were these men and what did they want? And where was Legolas? What if Legolas were to return unexpectedly while these men were in the cave? He might unwittingly walk into a bad situation, for Haldir did not hold out much hope that these men were friendly. That thought was, to Haldir, more terrifying than what these men might do to him. Legolas must not return, not yet. But how could he keep him away?

The first voice broke in on his thoughts, ordering, "Keep an eye on him. I'll go tell Sedog."

Shortly thereafter, Haldir could hear the sounds of many footfalls entering the cave. He would not be able to continue playing unconscious for much longer.

One particular set of footfalls came close beside him, and he could hear the sound of a body hunkering down.

"This is a sight not often seen. He's taken a beating, I'll say."

Someone prodded him in the shoulder; and when he did not respond, the prod grew into a jab.

Haldir opened his eyes to see a man squatting down next to him. He had a narrow-eyed, swarthy look that immediately identified him as a southling, and he was dressed in road attire that marked him as nothing more formal than a ruffian. This, Haldir surmised, must be Sedog. Behind and around him was arrayed a gaggle of twenty-five, perhaps thirty, similarly outfitted men. They were all watching their leader's actions with a sort of perverse interest.

"There we are, now," Sedog said, nodding his head with satisfaction. "That's better. I didn't believe you were asleep. Elves don't sleep." His eyes scanned over Haldir's injuries. "Although you look like it might do you some good. What happened to you?"

Haldir made no answer. There was something unnatural and sinister in the man's voice, in his very presence.

"Come now, there's no reason why you shouldn't answer me," Sedog went on. "Why, we might even be able to help you." He cast a smiling glance back over his shoulder. "Isn't that right, friends?" He looked back to Haldir. "How were you injured?"

Still, Haldir remained silent.

"You don't understand me? Or you want to pretend you don't understand me." Sedog's voice was gutteral. "It doesn't matter." He reached out and touched the abrasion along Haldir's jaw. "I've never been this close to an elf before." His thumb crept up Haldir's chin to caress his lower lip. "Never touched an elf before . . . it's nice."

Haldir turned his head away, but Sedog only chuckled softly. "Do you think that's going to dissuade me? It isn't every day that an elf falls into your grasp, but today the powers are smiling on me. Elves are the makings of legends. I would not pass up my chance of becoming a legend." He ran his hand down Haldir's throat. "But you are wrapped like a parcel in the butcher's window. You did not do this yourself. Where are your companions?"

Haldir had planned on being silent to all of his inquiries, but here he found what might be a slim chance of encouraging them to leave. He turned his head again and looked directly at Sedog. "I had only one companion," he replied, his voice remarkably steady, as the adrenalin prepared his body for whatever was to come. "He has gone back to bring help."

Sedog smiled. "You have a pretty voice." A pause. "And a pretty mouth. I wonder what else is pretty about you."

"They will be here soon," Haldir said, doing his best to ignore the implications of Sedog's speech.

"I believe you," came the reply. "That is why I don't plan to take long." He made a motion to one of his men, who then sent two more outside to take up posts. "I would not want to be caught out by a group of angry elves. And they will be angry if they see what I have planned for you." He got to his feet and took a step back. "Cut him out of all of that clap-trap."

A handful of men descended upon him only to discover that an injured elf, even one so gravely injured as Haldir, was still a formidable adversary. The terror of the moment had given Haldir a return of strength and clarity of mind, enabling him to subdue the pain for a short time at least. It took only the blink of an eye for Haldir to snatch a knife from the hand of one of his attackers. A second later, the knife was plunged into the neck of its former wielder; and following that, jammed in between the ribs of a second attacker. As Haldir withdrew the knife, a stunning blow impacted the side of his head, bringing blood from the previous wound; and for a moment, the world spun into chaos. He felt the knife being wrenched from his hand. A cry of pain followed-it was his own voice-as he watched with a certain sense of unreality while his arm was pressed to the ground and the knife driven through his palm, pinioning his hand to the cave floor.

As his thoughts began to fall back into order, he noted that there was a lot of shouting going on, and where before he had sensed only lust, now he sensed anger. The two men he had stabbed were dead. This was hardly surprising; he had not been intending to injure, but to kill. And so he did not need to hear the other men's voices raised in outrage and horror to know that the men were dead.

The hands that were slicing away his clothes and the make-shift bandages had been rough before, but now they were vicious. They raked against his injuries and added new ones as they stripped him to the flesh. When they had finished, they held him in place. Sedog, who had been watching the death throes of the other two men, now came and stood over Haldir. He reached down and yanked free the knife that pierced Haldir's hand.

"Bastard! I could have made it easy on you, but if this is the way you want it . . ." he said in a voice quaking with rage. He slid the knife into his belt. "We can take care of that." He reached down, grabbed Haldir by the hair, and with the help of several others, pulled him to his feet. They began dragging him towards the mouth of the cave.

Immediately, Haldir felt the swell coming up his throat. He vomited blood, dark and thick. The pain in his belly now surpassed anything he felt elsewhere in his body. He could not walk, he could not stand. The cave, the men, their voices, the sound of the rain outside - it all began to disintegrate into sparkling crystals of sight and sound. The faintness was taking him, and then he suddenly found himself plunged head and shoulders into the water. Consciousness returned, panic-stricken and flailing for breath. At last, he was drawn out of the water. As his lungs gasped for air, his body rebelled in a fit of bloody coughing.

"Still any fight in you? Yes, I think there is. I think there is!" A voice taunted, and then he was under the water again. It happened over and over, until Haldir's entire body lay limp in a muddy concoction of silt and water and blood.

"I don't think he'll give you any trouble now." The voice, a new one, came to Haldir as if across a chasm.

It was Sedog who replied. "I almost wish he would. I rather enjoyed that." A pause. "But I think I will enjoy this more. Hold him down, though. I don't trust that he won't get uppity again."

Haldir lay on his stomach, his cheek pressed into the mud, his eyes gazing vacantly out through the mouth of the cave into the forest. He was still sensible but without the strength to move, still aware but unable to stop what he knew was about to take place. If he allowed himself to think of it, the terror would overwhelm him. These men-these pitiful men who neither knew nor cared about the sanctity they were about to violate- would take from him the one thing he had guarded his entire life, the one thing for which he had endured many centuries of longing, for which he had sacrificed all possibility of physical companionship.

He felt several pairs of hands on his body. They spread his legs; they held his arms. Their touch was cold, yet it burned like fire.

He began to pray in silence. If he could summon enough strength to rouse his surroundings, he might be able to reach Legolas, to prevent him from coming.

"Atarna ea han ea, na aire esselya ", he began silently, as he quieted his thoughts. "Aranielya na tuluva, na care indomelya cemende tambe Erumande "

Someone knelt between his legs and took firm hold of his hips, drawing them up off the ground. Insistent fingers spread the flesh of his buttocks.

The words grew more frantic. "Amen anta sira ilaurea massamma, ar amen apsene ucaremmar siv' emme apsenet tien I ucarer emmen."

A slight, tentative touch caused him to flinch violently, bringing a burst of laughter from the onlookers. There followed a continual probing, a tapping that Haldir's body reacted to with revulsion. He attempted to cloister off his mind from the body that was about to be taken for so much sick pleasure, but to no avail. This was his body. It was the body that Aluvater had given him. It was not some corrupt thing to be defiled at will. It was his for all eternity, and no matter how he tried, it was impossible to cordon off some place in his mind where his body could not follow.

He could hear Sedog rousing himself to the act, grunting animal-like, yet no animal would ever pursue a course such as Sedog was now pursuing.

"To the elves!" Sedog bellowed, forcing brutal entry.

The prayer ruptured into pieces. The words catapulted into oblivion; Haldir could not even remember them. He might have cried out, but he could not be sure. He might have found some hidden strength inside and struggled against the arms holding him in place; but that might also have been a dream. The only thing that he knew to be real at that moment was the searing agony - not so much an agony of the body than an agony of the soul. The wholeness, the purity . . . the sacredness was gone. Centuries of selfless denial-everything-destroyed in a single instant.

And now there crept around the fringes, the ghosts of forsakenness and desolation. But these - these might yet be dreams.

---

The wren returned. His voice was urgent. "You must go back to the cave!"

Legolas looked up from where he was scraping shavings off the root of an uminuae plant. "What is it? What has happened?"

"A party comes from the far side of the mountain!" the wren replied. "Swallow brought word while I was down in the valley."

Legolas stood up. "A party? Of elves?"

"Not elves. Men! They head for the caves."

Legolas was nimble as a deer as he darted through the forest. When he came to the path, the voice of the yew stopped him. "Go in secret! They have set men to watch."

Legolas crouched down in the brush. "Are they in the cave?"

"They are. There are many," the yew replied. "They are cruel to him. Hornet says there are some on the sides of the cave, watching. He can show you where."

Legolas moved parallel to the trail, staying hidden in the woods. He did not need help spotting the two men who stood carelessly, barely concealed, on either side of the cave mouth. He took them out cleanly and silently with two arrows.

The sound of riotous laughter from within twisted his innards into knots. He crept with stealth to the mouth of the cave and carefully peered around the lip and inside. What he saw so inflamed his senses that his reason crumbled under the weight of the image.

Haldir lay naked on the ground, surrounded and held motionless by four men. A fifth man knelt between his legs; and with each jarring thrust the man made, a small swell of blood pulsated forth from the red, frothy spume that now marked Haldir's mouth. His wounds, open and exposed, bled through incrustations of dirt and dry, caked blood.

Around this scene at least two dozen men stood hooting and jeering, spectating the grotesque display.

Legolas had an arrow at the ready. He took a step out from his cover and took aim at the man who was raping his captain. He was about to release when a slight movement caught his eye. Haldir's gaze, which had been fixed and unseeing, was now on him; and his eyes were filled with terror.

"Ba! Bata!" Haldir spluttered. "Auta!" (No! Go back! Stay away!)

The men laughed.

"I think he's praising your skill, Sedog!" one of the men chortled.

The man between Haldir's legs laughed wickedly. "And why wouldn't he?! I don't think he has anything to compare me to!"

Legolas pulled back on the bow.

"Canen-lye!" Haldir insisted. (I order you!)

Legolas hesitated, but he did not lower his weapon.

"Maque . . . auta." Haldir's voice was thin and pleading. (Please, stay back)

At that moment, the man called Sedog gave a curdling scream as he spent himself. Legolas stepped back behind the lip of the cave, but he continued to watch. Sedog stood up and put himself back in order.

"Pleasant," he said carelessly. "Anyone wants a go, I'd do it fast. I don't think he was lying when he said his friend went to get help."

"I'm next," a large, burly man with great lengths of flowing dark hair announced. "He'll be as loose as whore by the time you lot finish with him. I want him while he's still fresh, while he can still feel it."

This speech made Legolas shudder with rage. How could Haldir expect him to just stand by and let them-as many as wanted to-rape him?

'Canen-lye!' The command echoed in Legolas's head. It was an absurd command, the work of delirium and terror. Legolas raised his bow again, nocked the arrow, and drew several deep, steadying breaths. He moved out into the open once again, just as Haldir cried out in a feeble voice as the second man forced his way inside him.

A split-second later, the man was clawing desperately at an arrow in chest. In another five seconds, he was dead. Legolas felled three more before any of the men even realized what was happening. The arrows flew from his bow without pause. He did not even wait to see if an arrow hit the mark before firing again. The number of arrows in his quiver had been reduced to only two when the voice of Sedog commanded his attention.

As soon as Sedog had figured out that it was one lone elf that was assailing them, he had determined to do the only thing he knew would stop the onslaught. He crawled over to where Haldir lay. Rolling him onto his back, he drew him up next to his own body for protection; then he took his dagger and held the point to the base of Haldir's throat.

"One more arrow and he's dead!" he shouted.

Legolas halted with his arrow in place for firing.

"Drop the bow now, or by the fires of Mordor, I'll slit him wide open!" Sedog demanded. "That's one injury that's sure not to heal itself!"

Still, Legolas did not drop his bow.

Sedog pressed the tip of the knife into the skin, drawing blood and a strangled gasp from Haldir. "Drop the bow and he still has a chance to live!"

"I do not believe you!" Legolas retorted. "You will kill him-and me, if I let you!"

"We only wanted to have a little fun," Sedog replied. "And I know there are more elves on the way. We don't want to be around when they get here. So, if you just let us leave, we'll go without any more trouble."

"If you want to go, then go. I will not stop you, but I will not put down my weapon," Legolas said.

"You will shoot us as we pass. The only thing you value is here in my arms right now," Sedog said, his voice sinuous. "I will give you one more chance to drop your weapons, or I will kill him." He pushed the knife a fraction deeper.

Legolas faltered. Haldir was unable to give him any indication of what he should do. This was a decision he had to make on his own. If he refused to put down his bow, Haldir's death was certain. If he attempted to shoot Sedog, he risked hitting Haldir; and even if he were successful, he had only one arrow left; and there were many men still standing. If he surrendered, there was at least the chance, the hope that the rescuers might get there before it was too late.

He lowered his bow and tossed it aside.

"The quiver, too."

Legolas complied.

"Hold your arms out to the side and come across the water," Sedog instructed, still holding the dagger in place.

Legolas walked over the stepping stones, and the second he reached the other side, he was surrounded and held secure.

Sedog put his dagger back in its sheath and passed Haldir into the waiting arms of another man. "A wise decision," he said, getting to his feet and approaching Legolas.

"You said you would let him go," Legolas said, trying to appear undaunted. "You said you wanted to leave."

"And so we will," Sedog replied. "I am a man of my word." He raised a hand to Legolas's cheek. "Only I have a desire to fulfill first." He looked at Legolas for several long seconds, taking in his fair appearance. He took a step back, glanced at Haldir, then back at Legolas. "He is your friend?"

"Yes," Legolas replied.

"Would you do everything in your power to save him?"

Legolas was silent.

"I asked you a question," Sedog persisted.

"Why do you ask me that?" Legolas stalled.

"Because I have a proposition for you," came the reply

Before Legolas could reply, he caught sight of a small insect hovering at the edge of his vision. Then a familiar small voice said, "Your friends are in the valley. They come quickly!"

Legolas struggled to maintain his placid countenance, when his relief was palpable. "Speak your proposition," he said to Sedog.

"Show me how you love your friend, and we will depart with no further incident," Sedog stated.

Legolas felt his ire rise, and his face flushed hot. "My presence here is indication enough of my love for him."

"No, no, I have something else in mind." A pause. "I want to see you show him a good time."

"I will not."

Sedog shrugged. He walked back over to where Haldir was lying semi-conscious in the grip of the other man. "If you will not do it, then I will do it again. All of them will, and much more." He bent down and took firm rough hold of Haldir's head, making to kiss him, but before he could, Legolas cried out.

"No! I will do it!" He fought to control his breathing. "I will do it."

Two men brought him forward. As they pushed him down onto his knees, he yanked away. "I said I will do it. Keep your hands off of me." He looked at Haldir, hoping for some sign, some indication that he was doing the right thing. Instead, he saw his captain looking back at him through dull, fixed eyes. He could not even be sure that Haldir was seeing him. A stream of crimson was bubbling from the corner of his mouth; and Legolas knew the terrible truth: Haldir was beginning to choke on his own blood.

"That's good, that's good. Now, kiss him. You can start by kissing him," Sedog urged, his voice filled with lust and excitement.

Legolas hesitated a moment to gather his courage. Then he leaned forward and was about to touch his lips to Haldir's, when Haldir spoke in a spluttering whisper in the ancient tongue. "Don't do it, Legolas."

Legolas hesitated, then whispered, "It is alright . . . it won't be long-" His voice cut off abruptly as Sedog rapped him on the back of the head.

"I didn't say talk! I said kiss!"

"No, Legolas, don't-" Haldir cried out as his broken arm was twisted up behind him.

"Don't hurt him! Don't hurt him! I will do it, just stop hurting him!" Legolas pleaded. He approached Haldir slowly and placed a very neutral kiss on his mouth. The taste of blood made his stomach lurch, but he did not pull back. If he could keep this going for a little while longer . . .

Then he heard a sound he had never heard before, and it changed everything.

It was the sound of crying. It was the sound of Haldir crying.

Legolas drew back, his eyes growing wide with awe. He had never imagined that he would ever hear such a sound; the very idea had seemed preposterous. But here he was listening; it was a sound soft and desolate. There was a certain beauty and a certain horror in it. It was the sound that the lights of Telperion and Laurelin might have made. Legolas sat there, leaning back on his heels, dumbstruck, when suddenly, he found himself grabbed viciously by the shoulders and thrown aside.

"If you aren't going to do it right, I'll have to show you!" Sedog said, and in the next instant, he had Haldir's head fast in his grip. He closed his mouth over the guardian's as if to devour him. He was like a rabid animal, biting and clawing, lapping and spitting, completely immune to the sounds of anguish coming from his victim.

Legolas sprang to his feet, but he got no further before the men took him into their grasp. This time his struggles were so violent that one of the men dealt him a blow to the temple that sent him sagging in his captors' arms. When he raised his head, it was to see Sedog still running his foul mouth over Haldir's face and neck, but now he was also caressing his body, one hand sliding down over his hip.

And then suddenly, there was an arrow through Sedog's neck. The men holding Legolas lost their grips. They, too, fell with arrows in their bodies. Legolas glanced up to see at least a dozen elves taken up position around the cave entrance. He recognized the faces immediately. It was the patrol. Foremost among them was Ardamil. It had been his arrow that had killed Sedog, and now he stood firing off arrow after arrow, an expression of such rage and hatred in his face that Legolas almost did not recognize him.

The man who had been holding Haldir now tried to use him as a shield. Legolas lunged forward and jammed the heel of his hand into the man's nose. The man fell back, trading his grip on Haldir for his knife, which he drew to the ready. Legolas fell upon him. The man had no chance, for Legolas had been so blinded with a lust for vengeance that he attacked with wild abandon. He took a cut to the forearm as he grabbed the man's wrist in both hands, pummeling his arm against the ground until the blade dropped from his hand. Legolas snatched it up and dispatched the man with one blow to the chest.

From there, he crawled to where Haldir lay, pale and unmoving. He leaned protectively over him, keeping the knife clenched in bloodless fingers, and watching as the members of the Wide Patrol decimated the men in the cave.

It wasn't until the last man fell that Legolas turned his full attention to Haldir, lying silently in the likeness of death. A moment later, he was joined by Orophin, Rumil, and Maynfeln, the latter of whom dropped to his knees and quickly began checking Haldir's injuries.

"Haldir?" Rumil said softly, while Maynfeln ran his hands over Haldir's swollen, discolored abdomen. "Brother?"

"Roll him onto his side," Maynfeln said. "He is suffocating with blood."

Rumil and Orophin did as instructed. Maynfeln dug into his medic's kit and brought out a metal cup and a vial of crushed root. "Bring me water," he said without looking up.

Legolas reached out to take the cup, but behind him, Lostilsil leaned over and took the cup. "I will do it, Legolas," he said, giving him a squeeze on the shoulder.

Ardamil appeared then, kneeling down beside Maynfeln. His face was a mask of horror, his body rigid, his breathing vocal and tremulous. After several seconds, he glanced up at Legolas. "What happened?" he asked urgently.

"The mountainside collapsed," Legolas replied. "He was caught in it. He was too seriously injured to make it all the way back, so we took shelter here. He was in so much pain, and I couldn't leave him. I didn't know what to do." He sounded desperate and frightened. "I went out to see if I could spot you in the valley. And then the men came . . . and by the time I got back, it was . . . it was too late."

"Too late?" Ardamil asked.

Legolas opened his mouth to speak, but he was not sure he could say it. At last, he spoke in stilted syllables. "They had already hurt him. They were raping him."

Ardamil was silent, but Orophin and Rumil made sounds of anguish.

Maynfeln glanced up briefly at Legolas. "Are you sure?"

Legolas, who was barely holding his composure in tact, resented the question, which struck him as cold and thoughtless. "Of course, I'm sure. I watched them do it."

Maynfeln's voice, in contrast to Legolas's, was calm and professional. "How many?" he asked, as Lostilsil returned with the water. He poured the vial's contents into the water.

"Two, at least. I-I don't know how many had already . . . had already done it before I got here," Legolas replied.

"Did they hurt him anywhere else?" This was also from Maynfeln.

"I do not know."

Maynfeln wiped the blood from Haldir's mouth. "Roll him back." He tilted Haldir's head back and poured the liquid down his throat. "This should slow the bleeding and make it easier for him to breath." His voice was neutral, but he did not like what he was seeing; and he was sure that all the elves around him could see in his eyes the gravity of Haldir's injuries. "Roll him back on his side. It will take several minutes for the hulmis to begin working." He then turned his examination to Haldir's leg.

"How were you captured?" Orophin asked, although his full attention was on Haldir.

"I tried to stop them," Legolas replied. "Haldir told me to stay away, and I tried; but I couldn't-I couldn't watch them do those things to him and just stand there and do nothing! When I attacked, they threatened to kill him unless I . . . " He could not say it. "I was stalling for time. He has to know that!"

Ardamil reached out and put a comforting hand on Legolas's arm. "You did the right thing, Legolas. You may have saved his life." As he spoke, he noticed the blood on Legolas's arm. "You are injured!" He cast a glance back over his shoulder. "Ascalonn! Come and see to Legolas. He is injured."

But when Ascalonn tried to lead Legolas away, Legolas refused. "I left him once. I am not going to do it again."

"Legolas, we are here. Nothing more will happen to him. Go, just for a moment, just long enough for Ascalonn to take a look at you. Please . . . you can come back after that. There is not enough room or light here," Ardamil insisted.

Legolas went reluctantly, but his eyes never once left sight of Haldir. He watched as Ardamil stroked Haldir's temple.

Haldir stirred in a fit of coughing.

"Be at ease, Haldir," Ardamil's voice was soft and soothing. "You are among friends."

Haldir's eyes opened slowly. "Ardamil?"

"We are here," Ardamil replied, leaning over and kissing Haldir's cheek. "No further harm will come to you."

Haldir stared straight ahead with a dull expression for a long time, then suddenly, his manner grew agitated and fearful. "Legolas? Legolas?!"

"He is safe-"

"Where-is he? I want to see him! They were going to hurt him!" Haldir insisted.

Ardamil motioned to Ascalonn, but Legolas was already on his way over. He knelt down between Rumil and Orophin. "I am here, Haldir. Do not be concerned on my account. I am alright. I am unharmed," he said, wishing he might touch him somewhere, but unable to bring himself to do so.

Haldir's gaze wandered vaguely over Legolas's face, searching for the truth. "Ardamil?" His voice had more strength now, though still frail.

"Yes, Nikerym."

"Look after him," he ordered. "You must not let anything happen to him."

"He will be safe," Adramil assured him. "And now you must lie quietly- "

"Do not dismiss my concern," Haldir interrupted.

"You have never had to tell me twice to carry out your orders," Ardamil replied firmly.

"Give me-your word. . . " Haldir began, before a spasm of pain stopped him.

It was Legolas who answered anxiously. "Nothing will happen to me, Haldir. All the men are dead or have fled-"

Haldir ignored him. "Ardamil!"

"You will accept no oath, Haldir, so I can only give you my word. I say I shall protect him and I shall," Ardamil said, sounding more than a little flustered.

"Do not fail me," Haldir said, his voice growing frail again.

Maynfeln looked at Ardamil with a grave expression. "This must stop. He should not be talking and getting worked up. I can not tend him this way."

Ardamil nodded. He leaned over and whispered in Haldir's ear. "I will do whatever you ask, Haldir." He kissed his brow. "Legolas will be safe, dearest, dearest Nikerym." He kissed him again, this time on the temple.

Legolas observed Ardamil's heartfelt promise. Of all the assurances Ardamil could give, only this last one, this assurance of a duty borne out of love, had any effect. Haldir's face grew peaceful. His eyes closed, and he lost consciousness.

The return to Caras Galadhon was carried out through the night and its rain, merging into an equally wet and dismal morning. Shortly before the midday hour, the patrol reached the borders of Lothlorien; and by late afternoon, they were passing through the gates of the great city. Here, the bulk of the patrol was released and sent to pass the uncertain hours in manners of their own choosing. All of them chose to return to the patrol's talans. Only Maynfeln, Ardamil, and Haldir's brothers went with the injured to Meltheon's talans. Haldir, litter-borne and lying on his side, had slept almost the entire time, waking only at scattered intervals to gaze fixedly ahead and perhaps mumble a string of incomprehensible words. Legolas, on foot, had not left Haldir's side once during the journey.

At Meltheon's talans, Legolas was handed over to one of the healer's assistants and taken into a separate room to have his arm tended, for Ascalonn, in the patrol's hurry, had done only a quick field dressing. It took some seconds to convince Legolas to part from Haldir, and even then it was only with a certain gentle forcefulness on the part of the assistant.

Legolas was a bad patient. He was anxious, short, and so absorbed in worrying about what was going on in the next room that he made himself quite disagreeable. Yet, his attending healer, an elf by the name of Fintherfin, was all patience and kindness, while at the same time, insistent and thorough. When he had finished, with the prognosis that the wound should heal in "ten days or so", he told Legolas that he was free to go. But when Legolas made it clear that he desired to go into the room where Haldir was being treated, Fintherfin resisted.

"Meltheon said only healers and his brothers," he explained.

"Ardamil went in. He is not his brother," Legolas pointed out.

"Not by blood," Fintherfin replied, "But by everything else that matters." He put a hand on his shoulder. "I am sorry, Legolas. I can not let you go in there."

"Then I will wait here." He sat resolutely on one of the benches outside the room.

"That you may do."

And so, Legolas waited in the eerie silence of the healer's talans. Fintherfin had gone in to assist Meltheon, and now Legolas found himself alone with his thoughts. The solitude actually felt comfortable to him at the moment, for it afforded him the opportunity to dispense with the strong face he had felt obliged to show to the patrol. When they had first appeared in the cave, Legolas had been too terrified to worry about concealing his weakness. But on the journey back, he had noticed that the elves around him, while clearly unsettled and fearful on their captain's account, bore themselves with stalwart determination. Legolas had done his best to adopt this demeanor, and he had been successful with it for the past eighteen hours. Now, he wanted nothing more than to throw it aside and indulge his grief - for even a few seconds, if that was all he was to have.

He was not sure how much time had passed before he heard the sound of a voice addressing him. Looking up, he saw Meltheon standing before him. Legolas got to his feet, and even though he could not find his voice, it was of little matter. Meltheon could see the question in his eyes.

"He will be alright," the healer announced.

"Are you sure?"

"I am sure. He is a captain of the Galadhrim. And he is Haldir. It will take some time, but he will recover. His injuries are no longer life-threatening. The immediate danger has passed," Meltheon replied. "You should go to your talan and get some sleep, Legolas."

"I would like to see him," Legolas resisted.

"He is still being tended," Meltheon replied. "And after that, he will need much rest."

"I will not disturb him. I only wish to see him."

Meltheon frowned. "Legolas, my wisdom is not that of a child. Your presence would hardly be restful for Haldir."

Legolas startled at this remark. "Why do you say that?"

"He was asking for you-"

"He has been awake?"

"On and off, for a few minutes," Meltheon replied. "But that was time enough. He had only one concern, and that was you."

"Then why was I not taken to see him, to ease his concern?" Legolas asked angrily.

Meltheon regarded Legolas gravely. "Seeing you might have eased his concern for your safety, but it would not have been conducive to rest."

Legolas realized he was trembling, but he could do nothing to stop it.

Meltheon's voice was very quiet, very calm. "What happened between you and Haldir?" Met by Legolas's stunned silence, the healer pressed a little harder.

"He is feverish and in his delirium says some curious things," he said. "He blames himself for what happened. This, in itself, is not surprising, given his position and his responsibility for you. But it is the nature of his guilt that raises questions." He sat down, urging Legolas to sit beside him, and folded his large, delicate hands neatly in the center of his lap. "He said he knew your feelings. He said his courage had failed him and he had not discouraged you. He said that more than once - that he should have discouraged you." A long pause ensued, during which Meltheon's concentrated gaze attempted to penetrate Legolas's silence. "I have been wondering what he meant by these words."

Legolas shifted nervously. "You said he was delirious. He might have been speaking nonsense."

"That is possible, but unlikely." Meltheon's voice grew low. "What are these feelings of yours, Prince Legolas, that he should later feel guilty that he had not discouraged them?"

Legolas remained silent.

"You would not be the first to become enraptured by him," Meltheon said with thoughtful compassion. A slight grin curled his lips. "I have known Haldir . . . since he was in his mother's womb. I brought him into this world, and I have watched him all these centuries, age upon age, for he is truly remarkable to observe. It is impossible to deny the effect that he has on many of his fellow elves. He is aware that others are drawn to him, though he seems to have managed very well - up until now."

Legolas looked troubled. Meltheon's words seemed to be confirming his worst suspicions - about Haldir and about himself. "Why are you telling me this?"

Meltheon's face took on a patronly softness. "I told you that I am observant. You and Haldir have been companions almost since your first meeting. You carry your admiration for him openly. But now I am worried, because something has changed. Even Ardamil, Orophin and Rumil noticed it."

"Of course, something has changed," Legolas replied. "I watched them rape him."

"Had it changed before the attack?"

Legolas was growing flustered. "I think it would be better for you to ask these questions of Haldir, as he is the one who spoke the words that gave rise to your suspicions."

Meltheon regarded Legolas for a long moment. When he spoke again, it was not what Legolas had expected to hear. "Have a care, Legolas Greenleaf, that you do not become his weakness. You might do more harm than good to the both of you." He stood up. "Go now. Get some rest. You will be able to see him in a few days."

Legolas stared after Meltheon as he went back into Haldir's room. When, at last, he left the healer's talans, he had no idea where to go. He knew he simply could not face the rest of the patrol yet. He desired no company; in fact, he wanted only to be alone to try to sort through his jumbled thoughts. His wanderings led him, unsurprisingly, to Haldir's talan. A peculiar feeling came over him as he entered into the dark room. The two lanterns on either side of the door opposite were still burning. Haldir never let them go out. To the left was the statue of Aluvater. To the right the great glassworks and the instrument of the Ainur.

'Will you take his place?' The words echoed in his head.

Legolas paused in the middle of the room.

'We heard the song in the night, but it was not his voice that led it. You were the singer.'

It was a reminder that he had a large promise to keep to a small creature. But even more, he could not deny the pull that drew him to kneel before the statue. He bowed his head and began to chant in prayer. It was not effortless, for his thoughts strayed far from the present. The words of Meltheon demanded his attention. And beyond those were the things Nenstil and Flagon had said, and the words of the yew and the wind, and of Ardamil. And finally, there was Haldir himself.

Still, there was a greater distraction, and that was the image of horror - a picture chiseled into his mind, affording no peace or respite. It was the image of a body broken and abused . . . an image of the most unlikely of victims.

These things pulled at him from all directions, and he could not fight them. In frustration, at last, he slumped back on his heels and allowed himself to succumb to the competing demands of his mind and body. He felt something creeping up his throat, and he recognized it immediately as the desire to let loose all the emotions he had been reining it. The grief burst from his lips in a mournful, agonized fit of sobbing. He feared such misery would rend him from top to bottom, yet he was unable to stop. It was as if something had been loosed inside him, and he had no idea how to bind it up again.

And then he heard it. The sound of the prayer he had been trying so hard to sing. So surprised was he to hear it, that at first he did not recognize the voice.

It was his own.

Somehow, in some way beyond conscious thought or desire, he had risen above the morbidity of his own thoughts. Or perhaps he had not risen, so much as he had been lifted, pulled out of the mire.

He could hear other voices now, as well, and he wondered if they had been singing all along, only he had been too absorbed in his own grief to notice them. He strained to listen for the one and only voice that he truly wanted to hear. If he listened carefully, he thought he could discern among the choirs, the voice of the wind, the yew, and even the hornet's tiny voice. Yet, he could not hear Haldir. Now, his concentration grew more focused, and still he could not find Haldir's voice anywhere in the symphony that surrounded him. This confused him greatly, for these were not physical voices. They were the voices of souls. And if they were the voices of souls, why then could he not hear Haldir? Whether the body was whole or injured, the mind conscious or unconscious, the soul was the one true immortal-ever responsive and aware, never sleeping.

The silence where once had been Haldir's voice could only mean that Haldir was choosing not to sing. And for this, Legolas sang all the stronger, with all the more conviction. He would make Haldir sing, or if not, he would compensate for the absence with his own voice. It was, perhaps, a measure of desperation that drove him to press further and further, until the music was so powerful that he felt as if it were guiding him, instead of other way around. He no longer had to think of what he was doing. He was only along for the journey now.

And then, like a wave crashing upon the shore, it was over. The prayer ended. The music stopped. Legolas collapsed into a sitting position on the floor. Every limb trembled with exhaustion. He rested his elbow on one knee, and his forehead against the palm of his hand. He did not know why, but he was crying again.

A hand fell gently on his shoulder, and he startled. Looking up, he saw Mythis standing behind him.

"I am sorry, Legolas. I did not mean to startle you," Mythis apologized.

"It is alright," Legolas replied, getting to his feet and turning to hide his face in a moment of self-consciousness. That was when he noticed that all the lanterns in the room had kindled to life, and he was amazed. He had seen Haldir do this before, but . . .

"I have never heard any elf other than Haldir sing that prayer," Mythis remarked.

Legolas's response was somber. "I felt I needed it. And . . . I had a promise to fulfill."

There was silence then, which Mythis broke in a cautious voice. "How are you holding up?"

Legolas took a long, deep breath. "I am not sure," he answered honestly. "Not very well, I think."

"Did Meltheon tell you anything about Haldir?"

Legolas firmed up his jaw before replying. There were things Meltheon had said that he had no intention of passing on . . . to Mythis or anyone else. "Only that Haldir would not die from his injuries. He would not let me see him. He said in a few days perhaps." His stance, his voice, his entire demeanor told the story of this denial; he was caught between too many conflicting emotions to be able to identify one from the other, but Mythis could sense the anger and the hurt, the longing and the sadness.

"I am sure Meltheon is doing what is best for Haldir's recovery," Mythis said, placing an arm about Legolas's shoulders. "And I think I may be able to see what will be helpful for you. You are exhausted and in great need of rest. The least I can do is get you cleaned up, put some food in your stomach, and get you some sleep. Come, I will prepare you a bath."

"That is good of you, Mythis, but do not feel that you must take care of me," Legolas replied.

"Someone must look after you, and I volunteered for the job. The patrol did not think you should be alone, but we also thought that all of us would be overwhelming for you. So, it is just me."

"How did you know where to find me?" Legolas asked, as Mythis led him out onto the colonnade.

"There were not many probabilities," Mythis answered. "And I decided that you probably wanted to be alone, but some place where you felt safe and comfortable."

"I am glad you found me," Legolas admitted. "Your company is much appreciated."

Mythis began filling a large urn with water that had been heating in a solar basin. "The truth is I also needed a little time away from the others. None of us really knew what to say or how to act with each other. We all were sitting around the talan, not talking. It was awkward."

"That I understand," Legolas said, shedding his clothes as Mythis poured the water into the tub. "It was awkward at the healer's. I wanted to see Haldir. I wanted to see him very much, but Meltheon refused. He let Ardamil in, but not me. That . . . that was not good for me. I had to wait outside while they tended him, and in the end, Meltheon told me it was best that I go get some rest and come back in a few days. I was there when he was caught in the rockslide. I was there when the men attacked him. But I am not permitted to be with him now. You do not know how that upsets me."

Mythis continued filling the tub. "I think I can understand some part of it. I also would like to be with him. We all would. But it simply is not possible. And as I said, Meltheon must have a good reason. He would not shut you out just to be cruel. Here, it is ready. Get in, and I will make something to eat."

They did not talk while Legolas bathed and Mythis cooked. Mythis actually proved to be a very good cook, although he left the cooking area in complete disarray. They spoke little as they ate; but afterwards, as they sat around the brazier in the center of the talan, Legolas realized he did not want to be alone with his thoughts, and so he shared them.

"I can not get the image out of my head," he said.

Mythis did not look at him. "What image?" he asked, although he already knew the answer.

When Legolas did not reply, Mythis looked up and their eyes met in a moment of comprehension.

"Neither can I," Mythis admitted. "I do not think any of us ever will." A look of pain came into his features. "It was a terrible thing to happen . . . especially to Haldir. I do not know how he will come through this. Centuries of fidelity and obedience . . . denial, preserving himself . . . all gone in an instant. I do not know what this will do to him, to his vow."

Legolas knitted his brows in puzzlement. "His vow?"

A look of mild surprise crossed Mythis's face. For a moment he was silent, unsure how to proceed. Could it be that, after all these months, Legolas did not know the most crucial and defining aspect of Haldir's life? At last, he replied with a question of his own. "You genuinely do not know of what I speak?"

"I do not."

"After all these months with him, all the time you have spent with him, praying and worshipping with him, you do not know of the vow that binds him?"

The voice of the yew tree and the wind sounded in Legolas's mind, their incredulity over Legolas's lack of knowledge regarding Haldir. His blank stare prompted Mythis to continue.

"He has not told you, then? That is perplexing. We were all quite certain that he was preparing you to follow in his footsteps. But if he will not tell you, I will; for it is a matter of great importance if you are to truly know Haldir. How can you understand what that attack meant for him if you do not understand what he is." He paused for a moment, but before he could continue, there came the sound of another voice from the doorway. Both elves turned to see Lord Celeborn standing there. They jumped to their feet, but Celeborn, entering the talan, waved them at ease.

"Sit, please. Do not make yourselves uncomfortable on my account. I have only come to see how you are doing," the elf lord said, crossing the talan with long, elegant strides. "I went to see Haldir, and then to the Wide Patrol's talans." He looked at Mythis. "They told me you had gone to look for Legolas. Apparently, the same instinct that led you here led me, as well."

"Yes, my lord," Mythis replied with deference.

Legolas, however, had little semblance of paying the respect that was due. "You saw Haldir?"

"Shortly after you left, it would seem," Celeborn replied, sitting down. Both Legolas and Mythis sat as well.

"Was he any bit changed?" Legolas asked.

"He was asleep - a natural sleep." Celeborn looked at the two young elves before him. They both appeared completely thrown off by his arrival. They were suffering from what they had witnessed - Legolas, especially. For although Mythis was not much older than Legolas, he had benefited from his time under Haldir's tutelage. He was still a fairly rambunctious elf, not given much to calculated thought, but full of energy with a generous heart. Legolas, on the other hand, was simply still green, Wide Patrol experience not withstanding. They were actually a good match under the circumstances, for it was very possible that Mythis's natural buoyancy and resilience might bolster Legolas's spirit.

Still, from the sound of it, Celeborn had walked in on them in the middle of an interesting conversation - one which Celeborn felt was beyond Mythis's ability or duty to handle. Unlike Mythis, Celeborn was not at all surprised that Haldir had kept his vow a secret from Legolas. The elf lord had seen the doubt that had mingled with the hope in Haldir's eyes. As much as Haldir had tried to convince himself that what he wanted to believe was true, there had remained a quiet yet persistent uncertainty. It was that uncertainty, that grain of fear that had held Haldir silent on the more difficult aspects of his life of devotion.

It would be told now - not by Haldir, and not under the best of circumstances. But events had transpired that made it any further delay impossible.

"I am sorry to have walked in on your conversation, but now I believe it was a good thing that I did," Celeborn said thoughtfully. "What Mythis was going to tell you, Legolas, is that Haldir is consecrated." He spoke plainly, knowing that the flood of questions was about to begin.

The word sounded strange to Legolas. "Consecrated?"

"To Aluvater."

Legolas stared in silence for several seconds, then he asked in a subdued and uncertain voice, "What does that mean? What does this 'consecration' entail?"

Celeborn was slow to reply, choosing his words carefully. "He has dedicated his life to the service of Aluvater. Everything he does, even his duty with the patrol, is offered to Aluvater, to bring Him glory. The understanding of his sort of life is lost to all but him and those like him . . . only there are no more of his kind-not in Middle Earth, at least." A heavy sigh escaped his lips. "Haldir has . . . set himself aside, forsaking all possibility for earthly companionship."

"Earthly companionship?" Legolas was even more confounded. "By that, you must mean something other than friendship and love, for Haldir has both of those in abundance."

Celeborn grimaced. "Mythis, would you give us a moment?"

"Yes, my Lord," Mythis replied, rising. He headed for one of the nests, higher up in the tree, out of hearing range.

"I asked him to leave, because he already knows what I am going to tell you. He does not need to hear it again," Celeborn announced. He saw the look of apprehension on Legolas's face. He would not be able to find a graceful, gentle way of saying this, and so he fell back on directness. "Would it surprise you to learn that Haldir has never been bedded?"

Legolas stared, slack-jawed, and yet he was not greatly astonished - or rather, he was astonished, but at his own failure to come to this knowledge on his own. The fact that Celeborn felt the need to bring this to his attention made him flush with embarrassment. How much did the Lord of Lorien already know about Legolas's feelings for Haldir?

"He is chaste," Celeborn went on. "It is a sign, a pledge of his faithfulness. Nothing can come before Aluvater. No thing and no one. That has caused him some problems in the past, but nothing like this. When I went to visit him just now, even though he slept, I could feel his hopelessness. Everything has been lost, destroyed - or so he fears."

Legolas spoke in a whisper. "I had no idea."

Celeborn looked doubtful. "Did you not?"

"I-I knew he was . . . different, but I . . . " he stammered through the words. "But-but I did not know of his vow. If I had . . . oh, Elbereth, if only I had known!" He felt his chest tighten as he recalled the events on the cliff and in the cave.

"It would not have changed anything," Celeborn stated.

Legolas did not speak right away. He was quite certain it would have changed everything. At last, he asked, "And he chose such a life freely?"

"In the first days, the Consecration was passed on to first-born sons and taught from uncle to first-born nephews. For reasons I can not discern, the practice had fallen off by the beginning of the Second Age. Perhaps parents felt the life of Consecration was too demanding for their sons. Or perhaps the sons found it too demanding. Whatever the cause, the practice had all but faded when Hevereth took Haldir under instruction. We were not sure Efeneth-Haldir's father-was going to agree to the Consecration, but Haldir's mother insisted on it. Vilthuril was strong in her devotion and adamant that her first-born be consecrated. Haldir was the sun in her sky, the greatest joy in her life. She yearns for him even now, despite the peace and pleasures of Valinor." Celeborn paused. He looked very grave, very sad. "Since Hevereth left these lands more than fifty years ago, I have not encountered any of the Consecrated other than Haldir. He is quite alone in that respect." His gaze fell fixedly upon Legolas. "And then you came to Lothlorien. You hung on his every word; and by your own admission, wanted to be just like him. You learned the prayers, worshipped with him. And suddenly, he was no longer alone. He had a hope. You are that hope."

Legolas was dumbfounded. He swallowed with effort. "His hope for . . . what?"

"He hopes you will follow his path," Celeborn replied. "He is hoping you will seek Consecration."

Legolas blanched. He struggled to keep his voice under control. "He-he has told you this?"

"He has."

Legolas did not know what to make of this revelation. In a strange way, it was incredibly flattering. Yet, it was inconceivable that Haldir's kindness, his friendship, the love he had shown Legolas had all been conducted with the primary purpose of luring him into a life of . . . consecration. The thought of such a life had never even remotely entered Legolas's thoughts. He could not even fathom its meaning-its appeal still less-to any elf; least of all, Haldir: Haldir, who was so physical and sensual, who enjoyed the company of other elves every bit as much as solitude and quiet, who had chosen as a mark of his fidelity the granting of a kiss.

At last, in an uncertain voice, Legolas replied, "He never said any of this to me."

"He was not sure how you would react," Celeborn replied. "And he was advised that his hopes were most probably unfounded."

"Who told him that?"

"I did. Ardamil, as well."

Legolas dropped his head into his hands. "How can all of this be, and yet I did not see it."

"You are not the first. There is something about Haldir that blinds even some of the wisest elves to the obvious. The sun is not dangerous, unless you look directly at it," Celeborn explained. He sat quietly for a long time, observing Legolas, whose manner had grown detached and inward. At last, he said, "Your father comes. I sent word to him of what happened. I told him you were not seriously injured, but he will come."

Legolas raised his head. "Thank you, my Lord. I feel his absence most keenly right now."

"I will leave you now and send word upon your father's arrival," Celeborn said, standing up. He ran his hand over Legolas's head. "This is not the time for you to grow wary of Haldir. It is not the time for you to retreat from him. You know now what that attack meant to him. What it will do to him remains to be seen, but he can not manage this on his own. Of that, I am sure. Whatever you decide regarding his hopes for you, you must not abandon him now."

"I would never leave him, unless he desired me to do so," Legolas replied. "Yet, I am at a loss to understand why, if I am so indispensable, I was not permitted to see him at the healer's, even though he asked for me."

"He was in grave condition and highly agitated. Meltheon made the right decision," Celeborn said. "But once he has had a chance to rest and . . . get his sentiments back under control, then he will need to see you." A pause. "I will see myself out. And Legolas . . . it would be best for you not to go the healer's until summoned. You will only make yourself wretched waiting outside a door which you are not permitted to enter."

With that, Lord Celeborn was gone. Shortly thereafter, Mythis came trotting lightly down the rope from the nest. When he got to the bottom, he found Legolas on the colonnade, sitting on the balustrade with the carelessness of dejection.

"Shall I leave you in peace?" Mythis asked, coming to stand beside him.

Legolas turned to face him with an expression of the deepest sadness. "There is no peace anymore, Mythis."

---

Thranduil well remembered the last time he had set foot within the borders of Lothlorien. Now, as he entered the Golden Wood once again, the centuries melted away. It was as if nothing had changed, and perhaps nothing had. The rest of the world was in turmoil, but in Lorien, all was peace - or at least, so it appeared. It was as if the great mellyrns formed a kind of sanctuary against the wickedness that was spreading over Middle Earth.

And yet, Thranduil knew that there was at least one thing not so idyllic within these borders. Elves could still be injured. Fears were not without a foothold here. And a king's son might still depend upon his father for comfort. When word had reached Thranduil that there had been trouble and that Legolas had been injured, although not seriously, the Mirkwood King had not hesitated in his preparations for departure. It was not the nature of Legolas's injury that had drawn Thranduil out of the dark northern forests, but rather the circumstances under which Legolas had been injured and the report that his captain had taken the worst of it. Thranduil was not unaware of Legolas's attachment to his mentor. In letter after letter, Legolas had waxed eloquent about the merits and perfections of the guardian named Haldir. Thranduil had no recollection of the elf from any of his previous visits, but he was predisposed to like any elf that his son so highly esteemed. Upon learning, in Celeborn's latest dispatch, that this Haldir had been severely injured and abused, Thranduil knew immediately what his son must be suffering on the guardian's account. He had determined instantly to journey to Lorien at the greatest speed. Three days after setting out, his party of three-himself and two guards-came to the borders of the southern realm, where they were met by a patrol and escorted to the river crossing. From there, two members of Celeborn's household guard accompanied him to the private quarters of the lord and lady.

Celeborn greeted him with somber delight. "It is an honor to have you once again in our realm. I only wish it were under more pleasant circumstances."

"Celeborn, Galadriel, it is good to see you again," Thranduil said, perhaps somewhat shortly. Pleasantries were not high in his list of interests at the moment.

Galadriel, seeing the tenseness in Thranduil's expression, dispensed with any further formalities. "We will not detain you a moment longer. You desire to see Legolas, and we know that he has been waiting anxiously for your arrival. We have someone to take you to him." She looped her arm through his and walked him to the antechamber through which he has passed on his way in.

There sat an elf, whom Thranduil had seen upon entering, but to whom he had paid no attention. Now the elf rose as Galadriel presented him to Thranduil.

"This is Ardamil," she introduced. "He is subaltern of the Wide Patrol, the company Legolas has been training with. And he is a friend of Legolas. Ardamil, this is Thranduil, King of Mirkwood and Legolas's father."

"Your Lordship," Ardamil acknowledged with a bow. When he raised his eyes to take in the face of the elf before him, he was struck by the similarity between father and son. Thranduil was an elf of stature with piercing eyes and long, thin tresses the color of steel, which he wore in exactly the same manner as Legolas. He was more solid and broad-shouldered than his son - a sign of his greater strength and maturity. And yet, in his manner was detectable the same impetuous, indefatigable lust for life that was one of Legolas's defining characteristics.

"Ardamil will take you to Legolas and then show you to your talans whenever you wish," Galadriel went on. "We will not keep you any longer."

"You are very gracious," Thranduil said with a slight nod in Galadriel's direction, then to Ardamil. "Take me to my son."

Ardamil led the way from the talan into the labyrinth of Caras Galadhon. He moved quickly and perhaps without as much hospitality as he might have offered; but the truth was that he was not happy with the assignment. For the past three days, he had not left Haldir's side, but for a moment here and there. Then this morning, Celeborn had paid a visit to the healer's - not his first - to announce to Ardamil that he was being given the honor and responsibility of escorting Thranduil. The idea of leaving Haldir was not at all agreeable to Ardamil, but Celeborn was not one to be argued with. But what had made the matter worse was that only seconds after Celeborn had left, Haldir had woken up - fully and in complete control of his senses for the first time since the return to Caras Galadhon. Ardamil had spent less than an hour with him before being summoned to the lord and lady's private talans. And that hour had been perplexing and painful.

At Meltheon's inquiry, Haldir had recounted in detail all that he had suffered. His manner had been indifferent, almost glib. If nothing else, it had been completely unnatural. When asked about the pain, his response had been cavalier, "I have known worse." He inquired after Legolas with nothing more than what sounded like a casual curiosity. He studiously avoided eye contact, even with his brothers. And when Orophin placed a tender kiss on his forehead, his expression was without emotion. He had spoken only once to Ardamil, his tone very nearly careless. "You are smarter than I am." Ardamil had only stared at him in stunned silence, to which he responded by adding, "Who else should I blame but myself?" The entire experience had been horrible. It had been the first indication that the wounds suffered by Haldir went deeper and were much more complicated than even anticipated. A stranger had taken up residence.

Being forced to leave Haldir at such a moment had been tantamount to torture for Ardamil. The only thing that made his current duty tolerable was that he would see Legolas. Although the bulk of his concern and energy had been focused on Haldir, there had been moments when Ardamil had thought about Legolas and how he was handling things. Ardamil had been told that Mythis was looking after him, and this gave some little peace of mind. Mythis was conscientious and well-suited to the task. Still, it would be good to see him. Or, at least, this is what Ardamil hoped.

He led the way up to Haldir's talan and opened the door. "Mythis? Legolas?" he called out, walking through the dark room. Thranduil followed behind.

Entering the main chamber, they both caught sight of Legolas at the same moment. He had been sitting on the colonnade, gazing out to the north. But now, seeing his father, he was on his feet.

"Atar!" He cried, running across the bridge and nearly collapsing into his father's arms. He sobbed openly with no sense of self-consciousness.

Thranduil held his youngest son in a close embrace, simultaneously moved to tears of his own in response to Legolas's display of emotion, and at the same time, consumed with wonderment at the changes in his son.

A long time passed before either of them spoke. Ardamil regarded them silently, nodding an acknowledgement to Mythis, who had been sitting quietly on the opposite side of the colonnade and now came to join Ardamil in the doorway.

At last, Thranduil's voice could be heard, strong and soothing. "I came as quickly as I could. I would not let you go through such a thing alone."

Legolas said nothing but sunk deeper into his father's embrace. Even across the distance, both Ardamil and Mythis could feel the sense of comfort and security that Legolas experienced in his father's presence. It was possible to see, in Thranduil, Legolas's future: a bold, powerful elf, yet one still capable of tenderness and compassion. And yet, there was another element now at work in Legolas: an element entirely different from anything observable in his father. And that other element was easy identifiable to the two Lorien elves: it was the influence of Haldir-the aspect of quiet self-containment.

At length, Thranduil maneuvered Legolas over to the living area, guided him to sit down on the divan, then sat beside him. Glancing up to see Ardamil and Mythis still standing in the doorway, Thranduil asked, "May they join us?"

"Yes, yes, they are my friends," Legolas replied. His gaze lingered for a few seconds on Ardamil, who looked abject and forlorn; but his father's voice drew his attention.

"How are you doing?"

"I am well," Legolas replied.

"You do not look well," Thranduil stated. "You look tired and sad."

"I am worried," Legolas admitted. "I have not been allowed to see Haldir. Meltheon, the healer, thinks it is best that I do not see him yet."

Thranduil caressed his son's cheek. "And he is probably correct. I know how hard that must be on you, but it is not our place to question the healer's guidance." He recognized the pleading look on Legolas's face. "I know how you feel about Haldir. Your letters were filled with admiration for him. I am looking forward to meeting the elf who has so impressed my child. But I will not be part of anything that may slow his healing. You will have to be patient, Legolas."

"If I may interrupt," Ardamil began. "Haldir woke up this morning. It is likely that you may be able to see him soon."

The first ray of hope beamed in Legolas's eye. "Atar?"

"The healer will send for you, I am sure," Thranduil replied gently. "I will not use my position to procure favors for my son." He leaned back, gave Legolas his full regard, then grinned with genuine joy. "I see Lorien has done very well by you. Look at you! You left barely more than an elfling, and now I see an adult before me."

Legolas managed a smile. "It is all Haldir's doing."

Thranduil nodded. "Then I have much to compliment him on. You are fully twice the more muscular than when you left Mirkwood. A certain wisdom has come into your eyes. And even though you are suffering at the moment, I can see a new strength and confidence in you."

"You should see him with a sword and knives, or riding," Mythis interjected. "Even his archery has improved, and it was already surpassing."

Thranduil felt his chest swelling with pride. "Is that so?"

"I have learned more here than I ever thought I would," Legolas replied. "Haldir has left nothing wanting. I will never be as good as he is, but . . ." His voice fell off as the words of his conversation with Celeborn came flooding back into his mind. There were things he had learned from Haldir that he could never tell his father, just as he could never divulge the hopes Haldir had entertained for him.

Thranduil's voice was compassionate. "You are tired. I want you to get some sleep. You can come to my talan."

"I would rather stay here, Atar," Legolas replied. "This is Haldir's talan."

Thranduil looked up and surveyed the open space. "It is a pleasant place. Very well, then. We will stay here. But I insist that you try to sleep."

Legolas nodded, then he looked to Ardamil and Mythis. "Will you both stay?"

The two elves changed glances, then Ardamil replied, "We will stay. I have been wanting to talk to you, to check on you; but I could not leave Haldir."

"I have missed you, as well," Legolas admitted.

"But you should sleep now. I will be here when you wake up," Ardamil assured him.

And so Legolas slept. He had his place among the pillows, and within seconds of laying his head down, he was fast asleep. It was the first decent, peaceful sleep he had had in days. Around him, his father, Ardamil and Mythis moved quietly.

After a few minutes, Ardamil motioned Mythis into the dark room.

"It is good to see you, Ardamil," Mythis said with intensity.

"And you, as well," Ardamil replied.

"How is Haldir?"

"That is what I wanted to tell you, but I am not sure Legolas could bear to hear it right now," Ardamil began. "I know he is asleep, but I do not want to take any chances." A pause. "Haldir does not act like himself. Perhaps it is too soon to say, but he-I think he is hiding."

Mythis frowned. "Hiding?"

"Pretending that he does not feel any pain," Ardamil clarified. "He related everything that had happened as if-as if he were reading a history. He is cold, distant."

"It may be as you said: it is still early," Mythis offered, but the look on his face said otherwise.

"I hope that it is all it is," Ardamil said, lighting a taper from one of the lanterns and then lighting the candles that flanked the statue of Aluvater. "But if it is not, then I am prepared to say the prayers on his behalf. I would do anything to spare him such pain. I can not bear the thought of what this is doing to him."

Mythis gave a long pause before answering. "There is someone else who can say the prayers of intercession for him."

"Yes, Legolas," Ardamil said with a slight nod. "How is he really doing?"

Mythis tilted his head in consideration. "Fairly well. He misses Haldir. He yearns for him. I keep telling him that Meltheon must have his reasons for keeping him away, but I can only hope it is doing Haldir some good, for it is doing Legolas no good at all."

"I am glad you have been with him, Mythis," Ardamil said earnestly. "He needs looking after."

"I was happy to do it. I needed the solitude, myself," Mythis replied, then added slowly, "I had an interesting conversation with him. Did you know that after all this time he did not know Haldir was consecrated?"

Ardamil sighed. "I did not think he did."

"After all the time they have spent together? All the praying together? Yet, Haldir never told him." Mythis sounded truly baffled. "Why would he keep it a secret?"

"Fear?" Ardamil put forth.

"Fear of what?"

"Fear of frightening Legolas away."

Mythis understood. "He wanted Legolas to follow after him, but was afraid if he knew what a consecrated life entailed, he would falter."

"I think he wanted more time to prepare Legolas before telling him, but now I fear everything has changed," Ardamil lamented. "I am afraid it will all be up to Legolas now. If he shows no desire to embrace Haldir's way of life, then it will mean the death of one more of Haldir's dreams."

Mythis shook his head. "I think that dream is already dead," he said in a pained voice. "Lord Celeborn told Legolas that Haldir is consecrated and explained to him what that means. I should not have been listening, but I was. Legolas was stunned. He gave no indication that he found anything desirable in what Celeborn described."

Ardamil swallowed. This was what he had feared.

"Am I interrupting?"

Ardamil and Mythis turned to see Thranduil standing just inside the doorway.

"No, my Lord," Ardamil replied. "We only came in here because we did not want to disturb Legolas. We were discussing Haldir."

Thranduil joined them. "I understood from Lord Celeborn's message that his injuries were very serious."

"Yes, they were. But he is out of danger from that standpoint," Ardamil said. "I believe he suffers more from the memory and horror of it now."

"He will not die, then?"

"Not from his injuries." Ardamil's words dropped like weights in the silence around them.

"You fear he will perish from grief?" Thranduil pressed.

Ardamil took a deep breath, sparing a glance at Mythis. "Many griefs," he replied.

"Do you really believe that, Ardamil?" Mythis asked.

"I believe he will suffer greatly, and that there will be very little we can do," Ardamil replied gravely. "He needs another like himself. Only there are none."

"What do you mean, like himself?" Thranduil asked.

Ardamil saw no point in concealing the truth. "Consecrated, my Lord."

Thranduil's expression mirrored his disbelief. "Consecrated? That is impossible. That line died out in Middle Earth centuries ago."

"That is not so, my Lord," Ardamil corrected. "Haldir's uncle was in these lands until fifty years ago, and now only Haldir is left. He is the last of that line."

Thranduil was silent for several seconds, then it was as if he were noticing the room he was in for the first time. "That would explain this room," he said quietly. "A holy room. I have not seen one of these in over an age." He began walking down one side of the room, looking at the glass panels. "I wonder that Legolas did not tell me about this aspect of his hero."

"He did not know," Mythis replied. "Not until a few days ago."

Thranduil stopped at the instrument of the Ainur. "How could he not know? It is a difficult thing to keep hidden."

"Haldir did not tell him, and Legolas was . . . " Ardamil had to be very careful with his choice of words. "Legolas did not notice, having no idea what to look for."

"Why did Haldir not tell him?"

"You would have to ask Haldir that, my Lord," Ardamil replied.

Thranduil continued his paces, studying the glass pictures with a detached sense of historic interest. At last, he remarked, "The practice died because it was an unnatural way of life."

Mythis did not like this statement. "It continues in Valinor. It is not considered unnatural there."

"That may be," Thranduil conceded. "But the fact remains that it is all but dead here in Middle Earth. If you are right and your captain needs the comfort of another of his kind, he will find that only in Valinor. That means he will have to leave these shores."

It was Ardamil who answered. "That thought had occurred to me."

"It would be heart-breaking to Legolas," Thranduil went on, stopping at the case of trinkets beside the statue of Aluvater. "He is very fond of his captain." A pause. "What are these things?"

"Relics," Ardamil replied. "Things of value to Haldir."

"Holy relics?" Thranduil asked, parting the sheer.

"Some of them," Ardamil replied.

Thranduil was silent. His eye had been drawn to the center of the case where there stood a brilliant blue vase with orange and yellow flowers on it. He recognized it immediately. Just as indignation began to rise in his mind, it was replaced with sadness. He did not have to guess how the vase ended up in the hands of the march warden instead of those of its intended recipient. He only had to wonder how difficult it was going to be to extricate Legolas from the love that he had formed. The Consecrated were not easy to replace in the affections of those who loved them, just as the attraction they presented to others was not easy to overcome.

Thranduil had long suspected a certain partiality on Legolas's part towards the elf who was his captain. That had been no cause for concern. Hero worship was how Thranduil had regarded it. But to learn that the hero was also one of the Consecrated . . . this changed everything. It presented a danger that Thranduil was not willing to expose his son to. But it also presented circumstances that required delicacy.

Tomorrow, he would pay a visit to the healer's.

---

Orophin's touch was soothing. And somewhere on the fringes of consciousness, Rumil's voice, singing softly, managed to keep unpleasant thoughts and memories at bay.

He was not quite awake yet, and he was not sure that he wanted to wake up. Here, in the world between sleep and waking, any pain was an illusion, any sadness an uncertainty. He knew it was Orophin stroking his arm; his brother's touch was almost a part of him, just as was Rumil's voice. Here, intended comforts were taken as such.

Slowly, the part of his mind that demanded wakefulness won out over the desire to remain asleep. He opened his eyes to see Orophin smiling down at him.

"Good morning," Orophin said.

"Is it morning already?" Haldir asked, shifting slightly beneath the weight of the coverlets.

"It is." This was also from Orophin. "Did you sleep well?"

"I think so."

"You did not wake up any time during the night," Rumil said, coming over from where he had been standing near the window. "And it would appear there were no wicked dreams."

"No dreams," Haldir confirmed. "But I still feel tired."

"Meltheon says that is to be expected. You must not try to recover too quickly, Haldir," Orophin warned. "Give your injuries time to heal. We will stay here and take care of you as long as you desire."

"Where is Ardamil? He was here yesterday," Haldir asked.

"He has gone to act as escort for a distinguished visitor," Orophin replied. "Legolas's father has come."

Haldir immediately became more alert. "Thranduil is here?"

"He arrived yesterday morning," Rumil replied.

"That is why Ardamil had to leave?" Haldir asked.

Both brothers nodded.

"But you both told me that Legolas was alright," Haldir said, his voice becoming urgent. "Why is Thranduil here?"

"Legolas is fine, Haldir," Orophin said emphatically. "I give you my word, he is fine. He will be allowed to see you soon. Meltheon did not want you getting over-excited, like you are now. Thranduil came because he received word that something terrible had happened. He wanted to be here for his son. "

Haldir averted his gaze, but Orophin placed a finger under his chin. "Just as Rumil and I are here for you."

"You are both very good to me," Haldir said, but he seemed to be growing distant again, as he had been the day before.

Seeing this, Rumil sat down beside him on the bed. "Haldir, we are here if you want to talk about it."

"I do not want to talk about it," Haldir replied.

"Tell us what we can do to help," Orophin said, almost pleading. "We can not bear to see you in such pain."

"Your presence is help enough," Haldir told them.

At that moment, the door opened and Meltheon entered with an elf who could be none other than Legolas's father. The resemblance was uncanny.

Orophin and Rumil got to their feet.

"Orophin, Rumil, Haldir . . . I would like to introduce King Thranduil of Mirkwood," Meltheon announced.

Orophin and Rumil bowed then stood in uncomfortable silence.

Meltheon left the room, and Thranduil grinned amicably. "Be at ease. I am only here because I wanted to meet the elf of whom my son has spoken so highly," Thranduil explained.

Haldir's manner was reserved and without humor. "Any report from Legolas is sure to have been exaggerated," he replied.

Thranduil regarded him appraisingly. "Perhaps, although Legolas is not known for embellishing the truth. His adoration and esteem are genuine, I am sure." There was a moment of silence, then Thranduil turned to Orophin and Rumil. "Would you mind giving us a moment?"

"As you wish, my Lord," Orophin replied, bowing. Rumil followed his lead, and the two departed.

Once alone, Thranduil permitted himself a more indulgent, more scrutinous look at the elf whose name had been the focus of every letter from his son's hand over the past eighteen months. Even bearing the signs of his suffering, the guardian was amazingly beautiful . . .

'As are all of the Consecrated," Thranduil added silently.

This one was in anguish-fully palpable anguish; yet his allure was powerful, and if his current condition had lessened its strength, Thranduil did not want to think what it must be when he was in good health and state of mind.

"Legolas must have been happy to see you," Haldir said at last, disconcerted by the elf king's blatant stare.

Thranduil smiled. "He was, but I think he would happier to see you."

"That would make me happy, as well," Haldir replied. "I suppose they will permit him to come soon."

"I am certain they will," Thranduil replied. "It is impossible that Legolas should leave Lorien without seeing you at least one more time." He watched Haldir's face for his reaction to this 'casual' announcement, and he saw what he had expected to see. Where before had shone only dullness, now there kindled the spark of fear and shock.

"Before he leaves Lorien?" Haldir repeated.

Thranduil nodded. "I have missed him," he began. "I want him to come home, and this seems like the proper time. You are his mentor, his captain; and you will certainly be many weeks recovering from your ordeal. He will not likely want to train under anyone else. This is the best time for him to return to Mirkwood."

"Have you spoken to him about this?" Haldir asked.

Thranduil heard the tremor in his voice-further confirmation of his suspicions. "Not yet," he replied. "He is still devastated by events. I do not believe he will be sound until he sees you."

"But then, would it not be cruel to remove him from Lorien so quickly?"

"It will not be so quick," Thranduil said. "We will stay some weeks. You are very important to him, and I can not pull him away so abruptly. Nor is that how I would repay you for all you have done for him. I see he is much grown - in strength, in skill, in wisdom. I have great plans for him, and I am grateful for what you have done with him."

"Do you think he will be ready to leave?" Haldir asked.

Thranduil was honest. "No. I do not think he will ever be ready to leave the one he is in love with." A pause. "But leave he must."

Haldir's ghostly color grew even more pallid. "In love?"

"In love," Thranduil confirmed.

"No, you are mistaken-"

"I know my son," Thranduil interjected. "And I know love when I see it. He is in love with you." He drew closer, leaning over the bed to pierce Haldir with a fixed gaze. "Not with your calling. With you."

Haldir opened his mouth, but words would not form.

"You are one of the Consecrated. Your friends have already told me. I wonder that Legolas never mentioned that fact in any of his letters." The Mirkwood king regarded him intensely but not unkindly.

"He-he did not know," Haldir managed to say. His voice was soft and thin. "I did not tell him."

"And he did not see it," Thranduil drew the logical conclusion, "because he was too busy falling in love with you - as so many others have done with so many others of your kind in centuries past."

Haldir lowered his eyes, and Thranduil stretched out a hand to caress his cheek. "You knew this, did you not? That he was falling in love with you? Surely, he is not the first."

Thranduil's touch threatened to obliterate every last vestige of Haldir's defenses. The elf lord was so much like his son; it was almost as if Legolas were touching him so tenderly. It was the touch that Haldir had longed for and denied - only it was not Legolas.

"He is not the first," Haldir admitted, his voice a whisper. "But he is the first one that I have not discouraged."

"And why did you not discourage him?"

Thranduil softly stroked his fingertips over Haldir's face, as if he wanted to explore every bit of the beautiful, haunted expression that regarded him with such caution. The skin beneath his fingers was both soft and rough, warm and cold. Thranduil had almost forgotten how tantalizing the Consecrated could be. If this one could have such a pull on him-an elf Lord of power and self-control; then how much stronger that pull must have been on Legolas, who was still young, impressionable, and given to a love of experience?

Haldir swallowed with effort. "Because I had hope. Hope that he would embrace the calling."

"But you never told him that."

"No."

"Why not?"

"I was afraid. I was afraid to hear him say 'no'," Haldir admitted. "I did not want to lose him."

"Legolas would not leave you unless forced to," Thranduil stated. "He would not embrace your way of life, but he would stay by your side, always hoping that you will one day return his love-"

"I can give him that-"

"No, you can not. You can give him the love of the Consecrated, not the love of a favorite. It is impossible for you, nor do I believe it is what Legolas truly wants. An elf can become confused by the Consecrated. It happened to me once, many centuries ago. I would not have Legolas go through the same thing."

Haldir was silent. He felt as if his life had been stripped naked and exposed, leaving him no secrets, no protection, and no comfort.

"But what will it do to you to see Legolas leave?" Thranduil asked, his hand now moving around to examine the still highly visible cut above Haldir's ear.

"I do not know," Haldir replied, averting his gaze.

"Your friends fear for you."

Haldir's composure began to crumble.

Thranduil pressed on. "Your chosen life has put you in a precarious situation. The one you are counting on to restore you and to bring a return of joy will not be able to fulfill those wishes. There is no one left in Middle Earth who can help you through this. You must let Legolas go and then follow your path to Valinor. There await the rest of your kind."

Silent tears had broken from Haldir's eyes as Thranduil has spoken; now, he struggled to speak. "Is this Legolas's opinion, as well?"

"You know it is not," Thranduil replied. "I have said nothing to him, and I will be able to convince him of nothing."

So, here was the horrible truth of the visit. "You want me to convince him," Haldir said quietly.

"It would make it easier for him," Thranduil said. "He can not help you, no matter how much you may wish it. The longer you hold onto this hope, the harder it will be to let go, and the more pain it will cause as you pass the years seeing your desire go unfulfilled. You have been injured in a way that very few elves can understand; and those who can are no longer in Middle Earth."

"I can not make Legolas change his mind," Haldir protested weakly.

"That is true," Thranduil agreed. "But you can make him choose."

"I do not wish to force a decision on him."

"You will not be forcing a decision. There will be no choice. He can not stay here. You must not leave that open to him." Thranduil drew his hand down over Haldir's shoulder and along his collarbone. "If you love him in the true manner of the Consecrated, you will do what you know is best for him."

"Please do not touch me like that," Haldir stammered.

Thranduil withdrew his hand. "I am sorry. It has been a surpassingly long time since I last beheld one of the Consecrated. I suppose I wanted to remember something of the feeling." A sad smile came into his features. "I was rebuffed then, as well." He stood up. "Will you try to convince Legolas?"

"I have to convince myself first," Haldir replied, his voice quaking with uncertainty. "I do not think I am-ready to lose him."

Thranduil nodded. "I understand, but whether you are ready or not, he will be leaving with me when I return to Mirkwood. I will not let him stay here. It will be easier for him if you can convince him to go." He walked to the door. "Do I have your word?"

Haldir hesitated. "You will take him away no matter what?"

"I must. It is for his own good - and yours," Thranduil replied.

Haldir trembled as he spoke. "You have my word."

'I do not think he will ever be ready to leave the one he is in love with.'

The words echoed unceasingly in Haldir's mind. Thranduil had put no accusation into the statement, yet Haldir's own conscience was self-indictment enough. Left alone with the distressing truth of the nature of Legolas's love-for Thranduil had departed the healer's talans and Orophin and Rumil had not yet returned-Haldir began to feel, ever more acutely, that to which Thranduil had alluded: his aloneness. To whom could he go with the guilt that flooded every corner of his mind? Who could examine his actions and tell him whether he had acted prudently or foolishly? Who could help ease an anguish that very few understood? Haldir was not even sure anymore if he understood it. He could not recall the events leading up to the attack without an overwhelming sense of remorse and weakness on his own part. How could he have been so blind? And how could he be angry at Aluvater for putting an end to a relationship that never should have been allowed to progress to the point it had? No, Haldir had to concede that his own weakness had forced the situation and that he was no longer unsullied in Aluvater's sight-and this was the most horrible part of the whole thing. He had lost that which he valued most. He had broken his vow, broken faith with the One.

The door opened and Orophin peeked his head in. Seeing only Haldir, he stepped inside, and Rumil followed.

"That was certainly an honor," Orophin began. "Thranduil made it a special point to come see you-" He stopped abruptly, seeing the look on Haldir's face. "Haldir? What is the matter?"

Haldir shook his head slightly and remained silent.

"Was he unkind?" Orophin pressed.

Haldir hesitated before answering. "No, he was very kind."

"Then what is wrong?"

"Do you really need to ask me that?" Haldir questioned. "Have I not merited some small bit of melancholy?"

"You are being evasive," Orophin replied

Rumil nodded his agreement. "Certainly you have suffered, but there is something altogether different in your countenance right now." He stretched out a gentle finger and touched the translucent skin beneath Haldir's eyes. "You were crying?"

"Does that disturb you?" Haldir asked.

Rumil was honest. "Yes, it does," he replied. "I want to know what sadness brought forth these tears."

Haldir paused. When, at last, he spoke, his voice had lost some of its cool despondency. "Many sadnesses, Rumil. I am realizing that there is no place for someone like me in Middle Earth any more."

Both brothers were struck speechless. They stared at Haldir as if they could not possibly have heard him correctly. Haldir lowered his eyes uncomfortably.

It was Orophin who finally managed to find his voice. "How can you say that? How can you even think it?"

"All I have to do is look around me. I am the only one. All the others have moved on," Haldir replied morosely. "Perhaps Aluvater desires that I do the same."

"But you have never wanted to leave Middle Earth," Rumil reminded him. "Why do you want to leave now? Is it because of what happened to you?"

"Or is it because of Legolas?" Orophin added, a keen light glancing from his eye.

"I told you, there are many reasons," Haldir replied. "I-I am no longer a fit servant for Aluvater-"

"That is absurd!" Orophin burst out. "You could not help what they did to you!"

"That is of no matter." Haldir's voice was still dull and lifeless. "I am not whole anymore-"

"Why is that a reason to leave?" Rumil interrupted. "If that is what you believe, you will be unfit in Valinor, as well. You are using that as an excuse-"

"But I will not be so alone," Haldir replied.

"You are not alone!" Orophin stated emphatically. "And you are needed here! You are wanted here." He leaned over and took firm but careful hold of Haldir's shoulders. "Who has put these ideas into your head?"

"It is not a question of whom," Haldir said. "It is the result of events." He raised a hand wearily to his forehead. "I am grown very tired, brothers. Would you leave me to get some sleep?"

"No," Rumil replied. "You may sleep, but we will not leave you."

Haldir gave a disparaging laugh. "Do you fear I will run off? I am in no condition for it. Truthfully, I only wish to be alone for a little while."

"You only just bemoaned your loneliness-"

"You know this is different," Haldir replied. "I desire a moment's peace- not isolation. Please, brothers, how often do I ask anything of you?"

Orophin straightened up with a frown. "Very well. But you must put this ridiculous idea of leaving Middle Earth out of your head-"

"I thought you both wanted to go to Valinor," Haldir interjected.

"Things have changed, Haldir," Rumil replied. "You know that. You have made us love this place as much as you do. Valinor will always be there, waiting. You are not ready to go, and neither are we."

Haldir watched them leave. He held out little hope that they would ever understand the pain he was in. He had no idea how badly he underestimated them.

---

When Legolas opened his eyes, a smile was already on his face. He had slept well, and today, if he had his way, he would see Haldir. He sat up and saw Ardamil sitting a few feet away, sipping from a steaming cup.

"Good morning," Ardamil said.

"It is," Legolas agreed, getting to his feet and stretching. "I had a wonderful sleep."

"Your father's arrival seems to have done you a world of good," Ardamil noted.

"Yes, that and the hope that I will see Haldir today," Legolas replied. He glanced around the talan. "Where is my father? And Mythis?"

"Your father left thirty or forty minutes ago-"

"Where to?"

"He did not say, but I believe he was going to see Lord Celeborn. He wanted no escort," Ardamil said. "And he did not want to wake you. Mythis went to the patrol's talans to get a few things." He stood up and fixed Legolas a cup of the tea. "I am glad they are gone. It gives me a few minutes alone with you."

Legolas took the mug from his outstretched hand, set it down, then stepped forward and took hold of Ardamil's arms. "I have been so involved in my own misery that I forgot how hard this must be on you." He looked him directly in the eyes. "Are you alright?"

"It has been difficult," Ardamil admitted.

"At least you were able to be with him," Legolas said. "I am sure your presence was a comfort."

"Perhaps," Ardamil replied, and his countenance grew long and cheerless. "He barely knew I was there. He slept most of the time. When he did wake up, it was usually because of a nightmare . . . and then he would fall right back to sleep. Believe me, Legolas, it was not a privilege to be with him. It was painful, and if I did not love him the way I do, I would not have been able to bear it."

Legolas embraced him. "I am sorry, Ardamil. I did not mean to sound petty. I truly meant that your being there had to be good for him." He paused. "My presence apparently would not have been."

"That is impossible to say, Legolas," Ardamil replied, easing back. "Meltheon did what he thought was best."

"Yes, I know," Legolas replied.

Ardamil was pensive for several seconds, then he asked, "Are you angry with me?"

"Angry? Of course not. Why?" Legolas was surprised.

"For not telling you what Lord Celeborn told you," Ardamil replied. "For withholding the truth about Haldir."

"No, no . . . Ardamil, no," Legolas replied. "It was Haldir's own choice not to tell me-"

"Are you angry at him?" Ardamil interjected.

"No." Legolas's voice was almost a whisper. "I am confused but not angry." He shook his head. "If anything, I am angry at myself. Now all the signs seem clear. Everything you told me before makes sense, but I . . . I never would have thought that . . . that he had chosen such a life. I did not even know that such a life existed." He sat down on the divan. "And all along, he was hoping that I would follow him. And why not?" He sighed heavily. "I could scarcely bear to be separated from him. I told him, I do not know how many times, that I wanted to be like him. Why should he have thought otherwise?"

"He did think otherwise, Legolas," Ardamil replied, leaning against the trunk of the mellryn. "He was not sure how you felt. That is why he did not tell you."

"Yes, Lord Celeborn said the same thing."

"But now you know the truth. Does it change how you feel about him?"

Legolas felt the smile returning to his face. "It makes him even more remarkable." The smile faded just as quickly. "But I feel no attraction to such a life."

"Then you must tell him," Ardamil said. "But not now, not yet. I do not think he could bear it right now-"

At that moment, there came a knock at the door, and Legolas hurried to answer it. It was Fintherfin.

"Meltheon sent me to tell you that you may come see Haldir," the assistant announced with a smile.

Legolas could barely contain his excitement. "I will be there shortly!" he exclaimed.

Fintherfin departed without another word, and Legolas turned to see Ardamil standing in the doorway between the holy room and talan.

"I can go see him!" Legolas said. "Will you come with me?"

"Not this first time," Ardamil replied. "You should see him alone. I will wait here to tell your father where you have gone." He paused. "I only . . . I . . . are you ready to see him, Legolas?"

Legolas looked at him, perplexed. "Ready? I have been ready. I have been waiting for this moment for days now-"

"I know you 'want' to see him," Ardamil said. "But are you 'ready' to see him?"

Legolas regarded him in silent puzzlement.

Ardamil continued. "You witnessed first-hand the things that happened to him. And now-now you know what he is. You can understand what being raped did to him."

Legolas was silent for several seconds. At last, he said softly, "That is why I must see him."

"Legolas, be careful," Ardamil pleaded. "He is so deeply injured . . . I fear you may not recognize the elf you encounter in the healer's bed."

"He is still Haldir, and that is all that matters," Legolas replied.

Ardamil nodded slowly. "Then you had better go see him."

---

Haldir felt a coolness against his cheek and turned his face into the soothing softness. A moment later, something warm touched his lips . . . and lingered. It was a kiss, a wonderful kiss-gentle and loving. He opened his eyes to see Legolas easing away, gazing down at him with such an expression of love in his eyes that Haldir found himself verging on a smile, something he had imagined he would never experience again.

"I was renewing my seal," Legolas whispered, "which, I warn you, I intend to do very often."

Haldir could not speak. Legolas was so beautiful, so sincere. How in creation was he going to be able to keep his promise to Thranduil? And to himself? How was he going to let go of Legolas? How was he going to be able to bear the guilt of causing Legolas pain, which such a forced separation must surely do? The guilt he bore already was crushing him under its weight, and now he was about to add more . . . did he even know what he was doing? He had never felt such confusion in his entire life.

"I am sorry for disturbing your sleep," Legolas apologized.

"It is a pleasant way to wake up," Haldir replied, but his voice contained a certain wariness.

Legolas stared at him with unadulterated joy. "I have missed you terribly."

"And I, you."

"I would have come to see you sooner, but Meltheon would not permit it," Legolas explained.

A faint grin now formed on Haldir's face. "That was wise."

"He says you will recover." Legolas sounded particularly pleased with this prognosis.

Haldir's smile remained, but he did not speak.

"Are you in any pain?" Legolas asked, sitting down on the stool beside the bed.

"Nothing that can not be borne."

"And the memory of what happened . . . can that be borne?"

"It is being borne."

Legolas regarded him in silence: the stoicism, the reserve. But there was also a sadness in his features, the appearance of defeat. It made Legolas's heart ache. "I know what being attacked like that meant to you," he ventured cautiously.

Haldir's gaze drifted away. "Do you?" he asked, his voice somewhere between doubt and indifference.

Legolas leaned close. "Yes, I do. I know about your vow."

This announcement pricked Haldir's attention, but he looked only mildly surprised. "Who told you?"

"Mythis . . . and Lord Celeborn," Legolas replied.

"You were bound to find out sooner or later." Haldir's voice was dull, and Legolas sensed the fear that had crept in around the edges of his manner.

"Why did you not tell me?" Legolas asked. "We were so often together, and you never said a word - not once."

"Not directly," Haldir corrected. "But I tried to . . . to get you to realize it on your own."

"If I had known, I would never have let them do that to you-"

"You can not blame yourself, Legolas. Your actions saved both of us," Haldir said matter-of-factly.

"I should not have let them force me . . ."

"You had no other choice."

"I could have done what you told me to do. I could have refused," Legolas insisted.

"We would both be dead-"

"But it would have been a noble death, instead of giving in to fear!"

Haldir shook his head. "I was wrong, Legolas. What you did saved us. You made the right choice. I was wrong. It seems that my choices are often wrong whenever you enter the picture."

Legolas drew back, stunned. "What?"

"You cloud my mind. Nothing is clear when you are near me or even when you merely enter my thoughts. It is not a good thing, Legolas. What sort of danger have I been putting the patrol into, when your presence always overrides my own good sense?"

"But . . . it isn't like that!" Legolas protested warmly.

"It is," Haldir persisted. "We have just been fortunate."

"No!" Legolas shifted to sit on the side of the bed and looked at Haldir with the desperation of a one trying to prove his innocence. "You have never shown me any special consideration. You have never put the patrol in danger because of me! You have been my teacher, Haldir! If this is about what happened on the trail, then that was all my doing! It was my thoughts that had strayed, but they are back in order now!"

"Legolas . . ." Haldir's voice was deep and slow. "I think your father might be right."

"My father? Has he been to see you?"

"He was here earlier this morning."

Legolas looked disgusted. "So, they would let him in, but not me."

"He is a king-"

"And I am a prince!" Legolas caught himself and regained his composure. "What did he say?"

"He thinks that you are in love with me."

Legolas flushed. "And you agree with him . . ."

Haldir nodded. "I believe that is why I have had such difficulty making good decisions where you are concerned. Some part of me sensed your attachment and . . . this time I did not do anything to stop it."

"This time?" Legolas whispered, feeling a sudden sense of cold betrayal. "So, it's true, then. Those stories about other elves falling in love with you?"

Haldir nodded.

"And you turned them away." Legolas's voice was almost an accusation.

Another nod. "I had to."

"So, what was it you were hoping for from me? Why did you let me linger on?"

Haldir looked up at him, and his voice trembled as he spoke. "You must already know the answer to that question."

"Lord Celeborn told me you wanted me to follow in your footsteps," Legolas replied. "To become one of the Consecrated."

"He was telling the truth," Haldir acknowledged.

They were both silent for several long seconds. It was Haldir who spoke first. "What did you tell him when he said that to you?"

Legolas felt his throat constricting. Ardamil had warned him not to do this to Haldir, but Haldir was asking. Legolas would not lie to him.

"I do not believe I am suited to such a life, Haldir," he said, very nearly apologetic. "I can now see that, for you, there could be no other possibility. You were meant for such a calling. But I can not think that it is for me." He added quickly, "But that does not mean that I can not be with you! Even if I do not follow the path to Consecration, I can still be with you. I can be a member of the patrol! I will stay by your side, if you will let me."

So, here it was. This was the deciding point.

Haldir fixed Legolas with a steady gaze. "I will not let you."

Legolas stared in stunned silence.

"I can not have you near me, Legolas," Haldir went on. "Whenever I look at you, I will always see the one I wished to follow me. Your presence will cause me nothing but pain."

"But-"

"I think it best that you return to Mirkwood," Haldir said in precise syllables.

"No," Legolas protested. "That is not best. It can not be what you want! It certainly is not what I want. I want to stay with you."

"Legolas-"

"Maybe my father is right. Maybe I do love you, but what is the matter with that? We could go on the way things are! There is nothing wrong with that, is there?" Legolas cut him off, his voice soaring with emotion.

Haldir swallowed. "You are a prince, Legolas," he began softly. "You should not be forced to love something that has been soiled, that has taken dirt from other hands."

Legolas was horrified by Haldir's self-description. He wondered, for a moment, where the Haldir he had known and loved all those months had gone to; but then he remembered Ardamil's other warning:

' He is so deeply injured . . . I fear you may not recognize the elf you encounter in the healer's bed.'

His outrage and horror melted into sorrow and compassion. "You are no such thing," he said gravely. "And I am not being forced to love you."

"I would not be able to bear seeing you, Legolas," Haldir insisted, ignoring what Legolas had said. "You would be a constant reminder of things that I wish to forget." He paused. "And I am not so certain that I will stay in Middle Earth."

Legolas's face froze. "What?"

"There is little sense in me staying here," Haldir replied. "But you are not ready to leave yet."

"I-I do not understand any of this!" Legolas cried out. "You are not yourself! You are not speaking rationally!"

"I am speaking the truth-"

"It is not the truth!" He drew close, caressing Haldir's cheek with his palm. "Haldir, you-you are injured, and you are still in shock over what happened; but please . . . please believe me . . . the things you are saying are not what you really mean. They can't be!"

Haldir reached up and gently removed Legolas's hand. "I have made many mistakes throughout my life. I will not make another one with you."

Legolas was desperate. "Don't do this, Haldir," he begged. "Don't send me away."

"It is too late, Legolas. I have made my decision."

Legolas stood up. His legs shook. "With no thought for me?"

Haldir was silent.

"And no thought for yourself? This can not be what you really want. Do you give no thought at all to your own feelings in the matter?"

Haldir's voice was a near whisper. "What good captain does?"

---

"Ardamil?"

Ardamil looked up to see Orophin and Rumil come in through the holy room.

"What are you two doing here?" he asked, standing up and coming to meet them.

"Haldir wanted some time alone," Orophin replied. "Is Legolas here with you?"

"He was until a little while ago. He went to see Haldir," Ardamil replied.

"And Thranduil? Is he here?"

"No, he left earlier this morning. I don't know where to."

"He went to see Haldir, but he left, and we thought he might have come back here," Rumil said.

"He went to see Haldir?" Ardamil was surprised.

Orophin nodded. "We don't know what he said to him. He asked to talk to Haldir alone." A pause. "And after he left, Haldir said . . . all kinds of crazy things."

"What sorts of things?" Ardamil asked.

"He says he will leave Middle Earth," Orophin replied. "He says he is unfit to serve Aluvater. You must come talk to him."

"Leave Middle Earth?" Ardamil was alarmed. "That can not be."

"But he says he will leave," Orophin restated. "Please, Ardamil, you are the only one who might be able to get through to him. He listens to no one else like he listens to you."

"I will go this very minute," Ardamil said. He was already heading for the doorway as he spoke.

---

Ardamil did not even see Legolas coming until the Mirkwood elf had ran headlong into him just outside the healer's talans.

"Legolas-" Ardamil began, but Legolas pushed past him, obviously upset, his movements agitated.

"Legolas?" Ardamil said again.

Legolas's only response was a startling, "Leave me be!"

Ardamil was tempted to go after him, but he could not deny that if Legolas were upset and coming from a visit with Haldir, then there stood a good chance that Haldir was also distressed. And his loyalty to and love for Haldir took precedence.

He took the last few steps two at a time, coming to the talan and heading directly for Haldir's room. Upon entering, he found Haldir lying quietly in the bed, eyes closed, apparently asleep. But closer inspection revealed the uneven breathing, the trembling limbs, the labored attempt at self-control.

"Haldir?"

Haldir gave him only a brief glance before closing his eyes again.

Ardamil sat down on the bedside and ran his fingers over Haldir's temple in a soothing manner. Neither of them spoke for a long time, but at length, Ardamil asked, "How are you feeling?"

"I am tired," Haldir replied.

"Do you want me to leave?"

"No," Haldir told him right away. "Stay, please."

Another long silence followed, and again it was Ardamil who broke it. "Is there anything I can do?"

"You are doing it," Haldir said. "Just your being here brings me some measure of peace."

Ardamil frowned. "Are you willing to settle for 'some measure' of peace?"

"It is the most I can hope for," Haldir answered.

"Look at me, Haldir," Ardamil insisted.

Haldir opened his eyes and regarded his subaltern with impassive eyes.

Ardamil continued. "Orophin and Rumil came to see me. They told me you want to leave Middle Earth. Is that true?"

Haldir hesitated a moment before answering, "It is true."

"Then I will go with you," Ardamil said bluntly.

The impassivity in Haldir's countenance was replaced with a shadow of surprise. "That is impossible," he said.

"It certainly is not," Ardamil replied.

"Someone must stay and take care of the patrol," Haldir stated.

"Someone will, but it will not be me," Ardamil said. "I will be with you."

"You can not help me, Ardamil," Haldir began. "There is no one in all of Middle Earth who can understand . . . who can help me find my way back-"

"That is not true, and you know it," Ardamil interrupted. "Wherever such an idea came from, it is sheer lunacy. The ones best able to help you are right here, the ones who love you."

Haldir regarded him for a moment, then confusion broke over his face. "What am I to do, Ardamil? I do not know where to turn. Everything is ruined, and it is my own fault."

"Everything is not ruined-" Ardamil protested, but Haldir cut him off.

"My vow is shattered! There is nothing I can offer to Aluvater anymore that He would deign to accept," he burst out. "I am broken in His sight." He lowered his eyes. "It is a just punishment."

"Punishment? What are you talking about?" Ardamil's voice was filled with doubt.

"You were right all along, Ardamil," Haldir replied. "Right about Legolas. Right about me. He never had any desire to follow my path, but I did not want to see that. And I let all my hopes for his future break down my defenses against the attraction I felt for him. I should have rebuked him from the beginning, but I encouraged him. I thought I could draw the line, but I couldn't. Or perhaps I could have, but I didn't. And then it was too late."

Ardamil listened with rapt attention. "Too late?"

"On the hike . . . before the rock slide . . . he kissed me. Not the kiss of the seal, but of passion and . . . and desire. He was in love with me. And he was horrified at that fact. Now he knows what he wants, which is to be near me . . . but I . . . it is not clear in my own mind what I want." He paused, anguish etched across his face. "And even if I knew what I wanted, how can I be sure it is what Aluvater wants? I do not-I do not even know if Aluvater wants me anymore. I have broken my vow. I had broken it even before the men took me, by refusing to renounce my feelings for Legolas."

Ardamil mulled over Haldir's words before speaking. When he spoke, his voice was low and assured. "Have you re-created Aluvater according to your own ideas? This is not the One that you have worshipped all the centuries that I have known you. Perhaps you must take your share of the guilt where Legolas is involved, but your interest in him was always with a mind towards Consecration. Am I right?"

"I don't know anymore," Haldir replied dolefully.

"But I do," Ardamil said emphatically. "If you are guilty of anything, it is of blinding yourself to Legolas's feelings, in favor of fueling your desire that he follow you. It is the same thing you have done in centuries gone by. And now, you decide that Aluvater is punishing you, but why would He? Was your failure to discourage Legolas so heinous as to merit being attacked like that? I do believe Aluvater punishes-you taught me that- but He does so in proportion to the crime. You did not break your vow, Haldir. You may have been tempted, but . . . unless there is something I do not know about, you resisted that temptation. Your vow is not broken."

"I can not be so certain," Haldir replied.

"Then I will be certain for you," Ardamil persisted. "Your vow is not broken." He leaned over and pressed his cheek to Haldir's temple, then whispered, "And there is none among the First-born whom Aluvater loves more." He eased back to see Haldir regarding him with uncharacteristic trepidation and uncertainty. "I will not let you go. None of us will. You belong with us, and with us you must stay."

Haldir's voice was air-thin. "Even if I were to stay, Legolas must not."

"Is that why he was so upset? I saw him leaving here, and he looked very bad," Ardamil said. "Did you tell him he had to leave?"

"I told him I thought it was best that he leave when his father leaves," Haldir replied.

"And do you truly believe that?"

Haldir considered. "Some part of me does."

"Is it the greater part?"

"It is the only part that matters," Haldir replied. "Ardamil, it is not important what I want. It matters what is right."

Ardamil could not argue with this. "And you are sure that you are right about Legolas?"

"I am sure."

"Then I will not argue with you," Ardamil said. "But you must give me your word that you will not leave Middle Earth . . . not until the lights go out in Lothlorien."

"I can not give you my word, Ardamil," Haldir told him honestly. "I can only tell you I will consider it."

Ardamil sighed and nodded. "If that is the most you can give right now, I understand. Either way, I will not be separated from you, Haldir. That is my vow, and I give it freely."

Haldir looked at Ardamil and wondered what he had ever done to deserve such friendship, such loyalty. "You are good to me, Ardamil," he said softly.

Ardamil smiled with a certain contentedness and was silent.

---

The sun was just above the treetops, glancing down into the glade, reflecting off the flowing waters of the Anduin. The air was without sound other than the occasional rustling of the grass and treetops. Every now and then, Legolas imagined he heard the sound of oars in the river.

No one disturbed him. No one even knew he was there in that field on the far side of the Anduin, the field where Haldir had chased Melthea, the field that marked one of Legolas's most joyful memories. He had come alone and on purpose to this place, feeling that he needed some memory of happiness, for it seemed that memory was all that remained to him.

He lay in the long grass and stared skyward, watching the flight of a swallow as it spiraled up towards freedom. Legolas felt almost envious. Never before had his body seemed so heavy, so out of touch with the natural world around him. He toyed with the idea of saying one of the prayers, but it did not feel right to him any longer. And so he lay there late in the afternoon, silent and preoccupied with sadness.

The sound of Ardamil's voice roused him. "Legolas? Elbereth! The patrol has been out searching for you half the day!"

Legolas sat up and looked over his shoulder to see Ardamil approaching.

"You have found me," he answered dully.

"Your father has worried himself to distraction," Ardamil said, coming to stand next to him. He crossed his ankles and sat down beside him. "What are you doing out here?"

Legolas shrugged with feigned carelessness. "I wanted to be alone."

"I know that you have reason to grieve."

"Haldir told you?"

"He told me some things," Ardamil replied.

Legolas was direct. "Did he tell you he wants me to leave Lothlorien?"

"Yes, he did, although he was cloudy about the reasons why," Ardamil replied. "Perhaps you can enlighten me?"

Legolas made a sound of doubt and disbelief. "He had all sorts of reasons," he said getting to his feet. "Does it matter?" he asked, starting to walk away.

Ardamil rose and gently gripped his shoulder. "Yes, it does. Because my captain, who is also my dearest friend, is suffering immensely already. And I do not want anything adding to his suffering."

"It is not me who is adding to his suffering," Legolas said. "He does it to himself. You even told me that once, that he almost forces people to hurt him. He is forcing me to leave, and yet I know that my departure will be painful to him. Why is he insisting that I leave? Does he not trust me anymore?"

Ardamil came around and stood in front of Legolas. "He trusts you." A pause. "Even after you kissed him, he still trusted you." At Legolas's wide-eyed shock, Ardamil went on without judgment. "But I am not sure he trusts himself."

"Did he tell you that?"

"He did." Ardamil smiled. "You see, Legolas . . . he can say these things to me, because I was in love with him, too. I still am, but in a different way. I outgrew the love that demanded his body. It gave way to a love that would do anything for him." He pierced Legolas with an intense gaze. "Are you capable of rendering that kind of love to him?"

Legolas was tempted to give a knee-jerk reaction, but he hesitated and gave the question silent consideration. At last, he replied, "I think so, but apparently Haldir does not."

"Many elves have fallen in love with him, Legolas," Ardamil explained. "But not all of those who pursued him were able to come to the same sort of happy situation he and I share. Their love was not genuine; it was lustful. They coveted all the beautiful things about him, but blinded themselves to the truth, which was that he could not love them the way they wanted. And Haldir was equally guilty of refusing to see the truth of their attachments to him."

"Yes, I have been told these things-"

"But not by me." Ardamil was emphatic. "My relationship with Haldir has survived."

Legolas nodded vaguely. After a few seconds, he asked, "Do you also think I should leave?"

Ardamil was pensive. "I do not know. I honestly do not know. It will be painful for him either way." He put his arm around Legolas's shoulders. "There will be no easy decisions."

Legolas shook his head. "For me, there are no decisions. They all belong to Haldir."

Ardamil was not so sure of this. He had a suspicion that the decisions, in fact, lay even outside of Haldir's control. Ardamil understood, as Legolas did not, the power of elven lords.

---

Haldir was breathing hard by the time he mounted the flet that was his home, but the mere sight of the welcoming structure made the exhaustion bearable. Four weeks in the healer's talans had left him weak and frail, short-tempered and agitated by boredom. And although he was not fully recovered from the physical injuries, it had been decided by Meltheon that it might speed his convalescence if he were in his own talan.

When he climbed onto the flet, he sat on the floor and rested for several seconds. Behind him, Orophin and Rumil mounted the flet and exchanged amused glances.

"Shall we leave you to sleep here on the doorstep or help you inside?" Orophin asked.

"Help me up," Haldir replied. With a brother on each arm, he got to his feet.

"We kept it clean for you," Rumil said, opening the door.

They went inside.

The two lamps on the far side of the holy room were lit. Haldir fixed his eyes on them, as if they were guiding lights in a storm. His passage through the room seemed to last a lifetime. He felt as if he were a fraud, as if the eyes of all the Valar were regarding him from their glass visages, frowning upon him with disapproval. A sense of cold isolation descended over his heart, and he wondered if his brothers noted the accompanying rigidity of his body.

When they came into the living quarters, Haldir felt some little respite of tension.

"You see, everything is in order," Rumil announced, gesturing about the talan with his arm. "We even have a meal prepared."

Haldir nodded. "I smell it."

"Come, sit down," Orophin said, and they directed him to a low-slung chair near the brazier. "Are you hungry or would you like to rest?"

"A little rest first," Haldir replied, then changing the subject completely, he said, "I wish you had both gone out with the patrol. You did not need to stay here and watch over me."

"Meltheon and Lord Celeborn do not share your opinion," Orophin replied, fetching a flask of wine. "Besides, if no one had stayed behind to keep an eye on you, you would have tried to catch up with the patrol and ruined yourself in the process."

"That is ridiculous-" Haldir began, a genuine smile forming slightly on his lips.

"But not unlikely," Orophin added. He poured out a glass and handed it to Haldir.

Haldir accepted it, and both his gaze and voice grew distant. "This is the first time I have ever missed a patrol."

"Ardamil will take care of them," Orophin said with surety.

Haldir nodded minutely. His thoughts were already moving out beyond the boundaries of Lorien, following down the pathways he imagined Ardamil was taking. He trusted his subaltern implicitly. But he had to admit that he missed him terribly. The patrol had set out three weeks ago, while Haldir had still been bed-ridden; and he had not been able to spend much time with Ardamil before the patrol's departure. He now wished that he had. Added to that was the fact that Legolas had not yet left to return to Mirkwood, but rather had gone out with the patrol, at his father's insistence and with his father's accompaniment.

True, Thranduil had told Haldir that there would still be some weeks to pass in Lorien; but Haldir had never even imagined that Thranduil would decide to go out with a patrol-least of all, the Wide Patrol. But why not? With Haldir removed from patrol duty, there was no reason for Thranduil to fear for his son's tender heart.

And here was another source of injury. Legolas had attempted several times to see Haldir before setting out with the patrol; but Haldir had managed to avoid such a meeting at every turn. He felt that he did not have the strength to maintain his resolve. It would be best for everyone if he saw as little of Legolas as possible in the intervening months leading up to the latter's return to Mirkwood.

Sitting opposite him, Rumil leaned forward and put his elbows on his knees. "What are you thinking, brother?"

Haldir glanced up and forced a smile. "The patrol. I hope I will be well enough to go out on the next one."

Rumil narrowed his eyes. "The next patrol?"

"Yes, the next patrol," Haldir replied.

"You have decided to stay, then?" Orophin asked.

"For the time-being, at least," Haldir replied. "I can not say what my final decision will be, but I can not bear the thought of leaving you two. It is unpleasant even being at odds with you." He paused. "And if Legolas is leaving, then things can return to the way they used to be."

Orophin found himself poised on the edge of an expression of doubt, but he opted for silence instead. It was unlikely that things would ever return to the way they had been; Legolas had already become a part of Haldir, no matter how much Haldir might want to deny it. Haldir's insistence on Legolas's departure had been met steadily by Legolas's resistance to the idea. Yet, the thing was already decided.

After several minutes of silent companionship, Rumil asked, "Do you not wish to spend some time in the holy room? We thought that would be the highlight of your return home."

Haldir hesitated before answering. "Later on, perhaps." He looked up into the dark archway. A feeling of fear stirred his innards, and his hand shook as he brought the wine glass to his lips. His greatest joy and consolation had become his greatest fear. He was wary of returning to his devotions, for he was not sure what awaited him. Would his prayers still be honored? Would he even be acknowledged?

Almost as if reading Haldir's thoughts, Rumil rose to his feet and came to wrap his arms around his shoulders. "You have stayed away from Him for too long. There have been no celebrations, Haldir. Nature and the elements wish to sing again."

Haldir reached up and squeezed Rumil's wrist. "I am not ready to try yet," he whispered.

"It will do you endless good, I am sure," Rumil persisted.

Haldir actually grinned. "Perhaps you should take up the banner, my dearest brother."

"It is not my banner to carry, Haldir." Rumil held him even tighter. "It is yours."

Helm's Deep

Legolas's ears were ringing. He opened his eyes onto a haze of settling dust and smoke. He drew in a deep breath, coughed several times, then sat up slowly. The world spun about him for a moment, then steadied as he shook off the confusion. Bracing himself with one arm against the parapet, he got to his feet. Not thirty feet from where he stood, there was now a tremendous chasm in the wall billowing smoke and debris. Between that chasm and the place where he stood were bodies. One of the bodies wore a familiar red cloak.

Legolas froze. He could not move or speak. His thoughts would not even coalesce into a meaningful pattern.

A slight movement then gave hint to the life still in the body; and as Legolas watched, still mute, Haldir picked himself up as if rising from a night of peaceful sleep, retrieved his sword and raised his head, his gaze falling directly on Legolas. But before Legolas could even begin to feel any relief, Haldir moved like a flash, leaping forward and scooping down to snatch a knife handle protruding from a fallen elf's body. In the same movement, he swept up and sent the knife with an underhanded toss in Legolas's direction.

"Get down!" he shouted, and Legolas dove to the ground.

A choked cry came from behind Legolas, and turning, he saw an Uruk-hai staggering back, clawing at the blade in his throat. He spared hardly a glance, though, before springing to his feet and rushing forward to meet Haldir, who was now helping Mythis to his feet.

Legolas was about to speak, to ask Haldir if he were injured, when Haldir scalded him with an all-too-familiar fiery rage. "Why are your hands empty?! Where are your weapons?!"

"Legolas!" It was Ardamil's voice. Legolas turned as the subaltern tossed him his bow, which had lain where it had fallen in the explosion. When he turned back to face Haldir, he caught sight of Gimli, beyond Haldir, pushing up onto his hands and knees. "Gimli!" he called out, but the dwarf did not answer before something down in the close drew his attention, and with a shout that Legolas could not understand, he leapt deliberately into the chasm. Legolas rushed to the edge and looked down onto a scene of sheer horror. The deeping wall had been fully breached, and the hordes of Isengard were pouring through it. More of Haldir's elven warriors waited upon the swell, arrows drawn and ready. Between them and the flood of orcs, Aragorn was getting shakily to his feet. Gimli's seemingly pointless leap into the breach had been a stalling action to protect Aragorn. The ranger now regained his position, ordered a barrage of arrows, and then gave the command to charge.

"Ardamil!" Haldir shouted, and Ardamil was at his side in an instant. "I will keep a handful to hold the wall. Take the rest of them and go down. You must hold the breach; that is where they will concentrate. If the rest of you can hold the breach, we will hold the wall."

"Yes, Nikerym!"

Haldir held back a dozen elves. The rest, including Orophin and Rumil, went with Ardamil. Legolas, although he had not been selected by Haldir to remain on the wall, nevertheless lingered.

"I am staying with you," he said, drawing up beside Haldir, as the guardian directed the spacing of the warriors he had held back.

"You will not," Haldir replied, pushing one of the mounting ladders away from the wall.

"I am not leaving," Legolas asserted. "This is where I belong."

"There is no time for-" Haldir voice cut off as the next wave of attackers began coming creeping over the top of the wall.

Mythis wasted no time in recruiting Legolas to assist him in his duty of protecting Haldir; and at first, Haldir was too absorbed in holding off the onslaught to protest. It seemed as if the Isengarders comprised an endless sea of wickedness. No sooner did one fall than another took its place. Even still, it was clear that the wall defense would hold. It was the breach that posed the greatest threat.

It took only a few minutes for Haldir to recognize this fact; and even as he waded through body after body, he was already coming to the conclusion that his forces were needed more on the ground than on the wall. Over his shoulder, he said to Mythis, "Get Luredan's attention and have him take half of the wall defense down into the close."

"Will we still be able to hold this side of the wall, Nikerym?" Mythis asked. "The other side of the breach is being overrun."

"We must keep them from the tower gate," Haldir replied, referring to the entrance into the keep at the juncture where it met the deeping wall. "But if they get access to the stairway in the close, it will not matter anymore."

Mythis shouted to get Luredan's attention. He relayed Haldir's orders, and Luredan skillfully extracted half of the wall's defense from their positions and led them down into the close, where the fighting was growing more and more desperate as Isengard's superior numbers slowly broke down the resistance.

Haldir now addressed Legolas once more. "I want you to go down," he said gravely. "Do not disobey me."

"I am not under your orders," Legolas replied. "This is not the Wide Patrol."

"Do you not understand, Legolas?" Haldir's voice took on an urgent, almost pleading tone. "I fear for you beside me-"

"I can take care of myself, Haldir," Legolas cut him off. "I have proven that." He stopped to assist Mythis is dispatching a heavily armored orc that had clambered up the stair on the rear side of the wall. "And Mythis is glad to have me! You must be protected!"

Mythis shot Legolas a nod of agreement, but Haldir was not moved.

"You can not protect me, Legolas!" Haldir ground out, plunging his sword into the belly of another orc approaching along the walkway. "You will only make me lose myself and put me in danger! Please, Legolas-go! I will find you when the battle is over! I will find you!"

Legolas hesitated. He looked at Mythis, who nodded reassuringly. "Go, Legolas. I will protect him."

At that moment, Legolas felt only rage. He despised this enemy that tore him away from the only thing in the world that mattered to him. He was angry at Haldir for sending him away. And he was angry at himself for feeling the way he did. The fate of Middle Earth hung in the balance, and all he could do was pine to be by the side of the one being he loved more than any other. It was this three-fold anger that allowed him to act decisively. If Haldir wanted him to go, then he would go.

In his fury, he snatched a shield from a fallen orc and slid it across the ground. He leapt onto the shield and rode it down the stair, firing off arrow after arrow. As he neared the bottom of the stair, he flipped the shield out from under him, felling yet another of the enemy. He reached back and drew another arrow, plunged it into the next attacker, then drew it back out to be used again.

Close by, in the mire where once had been the bed of the sluice, Orophin stood knee-deep in mud, watching the spectacle that was Legolas. He could not help but marvel at how Legolas's skills had grown over the centuries; nor could he miss the fact that Legolas still regarded Haldir with the same intensity of love as that which he had displayed during that first trip to Lorien. And it struck him as ironic that it was now, as the world threatened to be swept into darkness that Haldir and Legolas should meet again.

Orophin made his way to where Legolas was still firing off whatever arrows he could scavenge from the ground, having spent all of his own.

"I pray that Mythis keeps his head about him!" Orophin shouted, drawing up to stand back to back with Legolas. "Haldir did not leave himself many defenders on the wall!"

Legolas looked back up toward the top of the wall and wished he had not. There were dangerous few elves on the wall, focused on defending the tower gate - except for Mythis, who was focused on defending Haldir. And as much as Legolas did not want to admit it to himself, Mythis's was the only task he wanted. Yet, he was forced to acknowledge, watching the guardian's combat ability - his speed and dexterity with the long sword, his calmness and singleminded concentration on the protection of his captain, his ability to anticipate attacks, and perhaps most amazing, his clear resolution that he was ready to die for his captain, if need be - that Mythis was the more qualified.

Haldir was nothing more than a blur of red and gold. Legolas actually found it frightening to behold him in action. The training Legolas had received in Lothlorien so long ago now appeared as if it had been the games played by elflings. What he was witnessing now was a desperate fight for annihilation and survival, a brutal unthinking slaughter of men, elves and orcs. And there in the thick of it, meting out death after death without pause or consideration, Haldir stood with no visible sense of remorse or even fear.

Suddenly, Ardamil's voice broke out over the din. "They are in among the horses further up the valley! Orophin, Dolenrod, grab a handful and come with me!"

Orophin looked at Legolas. "I assume you want to stay here."

"I do" he replied.

"Be careful, Legolas . . . and keep an eye on him," Orophin said.

Legolas nodded. "If he will let me."

---

Lothlorien

The morning air was chill, and a heavy mist rose from the waters, smooth as glass but for the ripple of the punt carrying King Thranduil's party to the far shore, the boundary line of Lorien.

Legolas's breath rose in crystals. He eyed the approaching shore with loathing, for he knew that once he stepped foot upon it, he would not be returning to Lothlorien-not any time soon, and perhaps never. He had returned from his last Wide Patrol three weeks ago, at which time his father had announced that he intended to return to Mirkwood at the end of the month. There had been no discussion as to Legolas's fate; it had already been tacitly determined that he would return to Mirkwood with his father.

The patrol had been dismal. It had been no reflection on Ardamil's ability or leadership, for he was extremely capable and greatly admired by his patrol mates. It was simply the expected reaction following upon such horrible events. Legolas had attempted to make the best of the six weeks, but his heart had not been in it. It had remained back in Caras Galadhon, and there it wished to stay.

Only that was clearly impossible now, as the punt neared the shore.

Upon the patrol's return to Caras Galadhon, Legolas had attempted to seek out Haldir; but Haldir had kept himself well-ensconced within his home, with Orophin and Rumil running unwilling interference. Yet, their loyalty was to Haldir, and as the latter had made it perfectly clear that he did not want to see Legolas, the two brothers had sadly acquiesced.

After the patrol's two weeks in garrison, it set out again; and this time, Haldir had gone with them. Legolas could not imagine that Haldir was physically up to par; but little did it matter, for Haldir had certainly set out at the head of his patrol, without having spoken a word to Legolas in between.

Now, a week after the patrol's departure, Legolas was returning to Mirkwood. His manner was somber and grave. His thoughts were torn. He wanted to stay in Lorien, and yet he didn't. What good would it do him to linger on with so little hope of returning to Haldir's side? What benefit could be derived from staying in a place where he was no longer wanted by the one for whom his soul yearned?

They came to the far side of the river where the horses were waiting, and they rode slowly along the faint path by the bank. The Fall's first frost cast the forest in pastel and pearl; it was a beautiful sight, and yet Legolas was unable to enjoy it. As the sun rose higher and the party reached the northern reaches of the woods of Lothlorien, the deeper colors began to prevail as the frost melted away in the sunlight.

The travelers were within sight of the wood's edge when a call went up from the surroundings. In the next moment, two elves dropped from the trees above. As the horses were reined in, more elves appeared, emerging from invisibility.

It was the patrol.

Legolas dismounted as Ardamil and Mythis approached.

"We could not let you leave without a proper farewell," Ardamil said.

"This is not exactly proper," Mythis added, "But it is the best we can do, under the circumstances."

Legolas smiled sadly. "I wish I did not have to go."

"You will be sorely missed, Legolas," Ardamil said with sincerity.

"Yes, yes," Mythis chimed in with a good-humored grin, "It will be very boring and dull without you."

"Not so long as you are still around, Mythis," Legolas replied, smiling as well. "I will miss how everyone was always teasing you about your beauty."

Mythis simpered. "My beauty, indeed. There are greater beauties."

Legolas colored.

"Come," Ardamil said, holding out his arm, "The rest of the patrol wishes to say good-bye."

Legolas looked about him at his immediate surroundings. "Where is Haldir?"

It was Mythis who responded. He nodded towards the top of a low slope, thirty yards distant and still within the woods. There stood Haldir with Orophin and Rumil.

Legolas sighed but managed to keep his spirits kindled as he went forth among the rest of the Wide Patrol to say his farewells. Behind him, Thranduil and his two companions remained at a distance, giving Legolas whatever time he felt was necessary.

At last, Legolas found himself alone with Ardamil, and no words would come to him. This was yet one more farewell that sat heavy on his shoulders.


"I will miss you, Legolas," Ardamil admitted. "I have grown very fond of you. You and I are not so unalike." A pause. "And if I may be so bold, I think you underestimate your own abilities, your own goodness of heart."

Legolas did not know what to say, so he remained silent.

Ardamil leaned forward and pressed his cheek to Legolas's, whispering, "He loves you, Legolas. You must never doubt that."

Legolas tightened his jaw against the swell of emotion this statement caused within him. He raised his hands and gripped Ardamil's arms as a manner of acknowledgment and thanks. "Take care of him," he said quietly.

"I will . . . beginning now," Ardamil replied, easing back. "Do not leave him this way. He will not come to you; you know that. And he will regret it for all eternity if he lets you go without another word. Go and say good-bye to him. You must be the stronger one, Legolas."

Legolas regarded him for a long time, then he nodded. Without another word, he turned and began heading up the slope.

At the sight of Legolas's approach, Orophin and Rumil excused themselves from Haldir's side and came down to meet him.

"It is a sad day," Orophin announced as he drew near. "I do not wish to see you go."

"I would stay if it were within my power," Legolas replied.

"It will not be the same without you," Orophin went on, to which Rumil added, "You have become a part of us."

Legolas managed a meager smile, but it was transparent. His heart was troubled, but what could be done? Everything was already decided and in motion; and given Haldir's purposeful distancing of himself, Legolas held out no hope that the circumstances might change.

"I will miss you both very much," Legolas said, his voice quaking. "I will miss all of the patrol."

"Do not stay away too long," Orophin said, clasping his shoulder. "None of us would like that."

A pained expression crossed Legolas's face. "I do not know if Haldir would approve."

Rumil regarded him with compassion and sympathy. "He will come back to himself in time. Do not give up hope."

Legolas drew in a deep, steadying breath and nodded.

"Go on, then . . . " Orophin said with an encouraging smile. "He is waiting for you, even if he would not admit to it."

The three then exchanged embraces, and Legolas began the short walk up to the crest where Haldir stood watching him with an expression neither welcoming nor unwelcoming. It was utterly neutral and very carefully maintained.

Legolas stopped only a few feet in front of him. From his place slightly below Haldir on the incline, he felt as if he were looking up at a statue of finest marble-smooth, placid, perfect. All outwards signs of his suffering had disappeared, leaving Haldir even more beautiful-if not understandably melancholy-than ever before. For Legolas, it was nothing short of agony to look upon him and not see the warmth that had once accompanied his gaze.

Legolas's voice was soft and forlorn. "I am glad I had this opportunity to say good-bye."

"Journey safely, Legolas," Haldir said, his voice and gaze frustratingly pleasant.

Legolas swallowed. "Do you think we shall ever meet again?"

"Anything is possible," Haldir replied.

"But do you think it likely?" Legolas pressed.

After a brief pause, Haldir answered, "No."

Legolas felt the warmth rising in his face, the stinging in his eyes of restrained sadness. He managed a slight nod, then reached into the folds of his tunic, withdrawing a short length of twig with several clusters of gold berries on it. It was to have been his treasure, his remnant of Lorien; but now he held it out to Haldir.

"The mellyrn do not die," he said in a distant voice. "Nor do my feelings."

Haldir took the offering with a simple, "Thank you."

Legolas turned, and with the hurried gait of one fleeing embarrassment, strode back down to the bottom of the hill. He swung onto the back of his mount, determined not to look back. A whispered word, and the horse began a slow walk towards the edge of the woods. Thranduil and his two escorts followed.

Above them, on the crest of the hill, Haldir watched them go. His gaze would not stray until they were out of sight-until Legolas was out of sight.

Orophin and Rumil moved to join him, but at a gesture from Ardamil, they hung back as the subaltern climbed up to the crest.

Ardamil did not say a word or do anything to distract Haldir's attention. He could sense the struggle going on inside his captain, but Haldir would show no weakness, nor would he ask for help; and so Ardamil offered his mere presence as a manner of unrequested comfort.

Haldir appreciated Ardamil's unobstrusive care, the silence with which his subaltern loved him and made himself available. And for a moment he felt ashamed that he had not been very good to Ardamil, had not shown him the love that his loyalty and goodness deserved.

And then the sound of a silent voice vibrated at the edge of his consciousness. A voice was singing . . . singing a familiar song, a prayer. The melody was tenuous, the voice apprehensive but both easily recognizable. It was a song of the Valar, and Legolas was singing it in the confines of his mind. It grew as other voices joined in, filling up what was lacking in Legolas's uncertain offering.

The wind increased, and the trees swayed, their voices those of rustling leaves. The sun streaming through the colored canopy grew brighter and the colors more vibrant.

Riding behind Legolas, Thranduil recognized the work of the Consecrated. But a quick glance over his shoulder showed that Haldir was not responsible for the current spectacle. Looking forward, he found his answer. Legolas rode with bowed head and closed eyes. The movement of his shoulders betrayed his labor.

It was a disturbing moment for Thranduil: the moment when he realized that his son had already started down a path without even knowing it. He could only hope that Legolas had not journeyed far, that there was still the chance of drawing him back.

Up on the crest, Haldir drew in a trembling breath. Beside him, Ardamil detected the emotion that was creeping inexorably to the surface and moved a fraction closer.

"I can not hear him, and yet I know he is singing," Ardamil whispered. "He is singing for you."

Haldir struggled before speaking in a strained voice. "I can not join him." With that, he broke from where he was standing and retreated down the back of the hill. Ardamil did not go after him. He knew that pain was about to break out anew, and that Haldir would not have the patrol see him in his weakness.

The song ended, and Ardamil saw Legolas turn slowly and apprehensively back towards the crest. The hope that had simmered in the prince's eyes now went out like the snuffing of a dying candle.

Haldir was gone.

---

Pain had driven the elf to despair. Such manner and degree of suffering had made him vulnerable, stripped him of those ethereal protections that had favored him century after century. It was an unexpected boon: the last of his kind left in Middle Earth, damaged and yet still possessed of all the remarkable qualities that identified those of his sect. He would be thorough, subtle, dependable . . . and deadly. It was amazing good fortune that, while the rest had moved on, this one-this most perfect one-had chosen to stay behind. Melkor could not have planned it any better. Here was the perfect tool . . . if it could be managed.

He would bear watching. The time was drawing ever nearer. If the elf could be turned to use, positioned such as he was in the heart of the Golden Realm, it might be worth taking the risk, making the effort.

Yes, he would suit the wicked purposes very well; but even more delicious was the fact that one of Aluvater's favorites would be taken from Him - the greatest insult of all.

His voice was the only thing that was not shaking.

His hands, clasped in front of him in the form of prayer, trembled despite the strength with which the fingers of one hand grasped the other. His legs had given out from the very start, but that was acceptable: the posture of kneeling was preferable, in any event. Still, an occasional shudder rippled up his spine, rattling his entire body, threatening to break his concentration.

But his voice, the recitation of the sacred prayers, was smooth, though tentative and reserved. The words had none of the usual heartfelt spontaneity with which they had been offered countless times before. They were a labor, requiring an act of absolute conscious attention; for where he had never before feared making a mistake, now he was terrified of doing so.

His eyes were closed, his head bowed, face framed by flowing lengths of unbound hair in the style and manner of humility. Before him the statue of Aluvater stood silently between its two glowing lamps. The rest of the room was dark. Night had fallen, and outside Haldir's talan, the rest of Lorien had grown silent.

But if truth were told, Lorien had descended into the sad stillness long before this night.

It might be impossible to pinpoint exactly when the descent had started, but the most observant elves placed it somewhere close to Legolas's departure. That had been nearly six months ago, and it seemed as if happiness had left with him. There was still much conjecture about the causes of the growing melancholy that plagued the city; but Lord Celeborn, for one, had definite ideas. He admitted to himself that he had not realized just how much of Lorien's idyllic tranquility had been a gift bestowed by grace at the behest of an elf who had no lineage, wore no ring, and exercised no power other than that of a soldier and worshipper.

Celeborn had heard from Rumil and Orophin that Haldir had not returned to his devotions, apparently had not even tried. Celeborn understood this; Haldir was frightened-more than that, he was terrified of appealing and being rejected. It would very likely destroy him to learn with certainty that he was forever banished from Aluvater's favor. The uncertainty was preferable to certain rejection.

Galadriel had paid more than one visit to the marchwarden's talan. She felt his pain almost as her own, and she understood perhaps better than anyone else that Haldir's faith was something he was going to have to recover on his own and in his own time. She gave stern warning against anyone trying to force Haldir to resume his life of devotion before he was ready. No one disobeyed her injunction, although Ardamil, Rumil, and Orophin were sorely tempted to do so. Orophin, especially, found the situation agonizing. Haldir should not be suffering. The most perfect brother, the most perfect elf. Of course, Aluvater must still love Haldir, Orophin insisted; how could He not? And how could Haldir doubt it? Orophin himself had taken to saying the prayers-the few he knew-more often. But he was saying them not to make up for Haldir's silence, but in the hope of interceding for his brother. He had almost lured Haldir into the holy room a week earlier when his own attempts at prayer had been so feeble and formless that Haldir had come to listen. Orophin had seen him from the corner of his eye, standing in the doorway. "Will you not join me, brother?" Orophin had asked. Haldir replied in a steady voice despite the appearance of sadness in his eyes. "Not yet, Orophin. But you-you must keep praying. He will listen to you." Orophin's response had been direct. "If He is listening to me, you will be praying to Him soon, for that is my prayer. This is your calling, Haldir. You are the only one left who can do it."

And now, Haldir found himself, less than a week later, trying to do what his beloved brother had insisted upon. It was a struggle, but he was trying. No voices joined his. He could not rouse the choirs or even touch the elements; so when a clash of thunder vibrated around him, he startled, thinking that perhaps he had somehow managed to stir the Valar to action. But it was not so. It was a storm, nothing more. He rubbed his face with his hands and sat back on his heels. A moment later, gentle hands fell upon his shoulders, followed by Ardamil's voice.

"That is the most wonderful thing I have heard in months."

Haldir gave a wan smile. "How long have you been here?"

Ardamil dropped to one knee behind him and wrapped his arms around his shoulders. "The better part of an hour . . . I was on the other side of the door, listening."

"An hour . . . was I going on for that long?"

"At least," Ardamil replied. "You were well into it by the time I got here."

"He did not answer me," Haldir said, dispirited. "No one sang with me."

"I did," Ardamil said softly, placing a kiss on Haldir's cheek. "Come, you are exhausted." He stood up, bringing Haldir with him, and led him into the living quarters. He helped him undress and saw him into bed. "Look at you. You can barely keep your eyes open. That is one thing that has not changed. The prayers still take all out of you."

A shadow of a smile appeared on Haldir's face as he realized this truth. "You are right."

Ardamil drew the silken strands of Haldir's hair through his fingers. "It will not be long, and the whole of Middle Earth will be singing with you again. If you were not afraid, they would sing with you now."

A gleam appeared in Haldir's eye. "Do you think that is true?"

"I have never lied to you," Ardamil replied, overjoyed at the sight of something bright in the face before him. "I do not intend to start now." He leaned close. "I love you, Nikerym," he whispered, "but not as much as Aluvater loves you. He is waiting for you to come home to Him, to begin living your life with Him again."

"That is presuming He still wants me," Haldir replied.

Ardamil wished he could take Haldir inside himself, let him experience first-hand the confidence that Ardamil felt. "Of course, He does," he said, then added with intensity. "He will heal you, if you let Him."

Haldir reached for Ardamil's hand, still running through his hair. "How do you know Him so well?"

"I know you, and I can see Him in you," Ardamil replied. He squeezed Haldir's hand. "Now, go to sleep; you have earned it."

Ardamil started to stand up, but Haldir tightened his grip. "Stay with me."

"I will be right here," Ardamil assured him, then he added with a contented sigh, "It is good to see you smile again, Haldir; to hear you saying the prayers."

"It feels good to smile," Haldir replied.

"And the prayers?" Ardamil prompted.

"I still . . . I do not know," Haldir told him honestly. "I want to say them. I want to give to Aluvater what He deserves, but I . . . I want to know if He . . . if He still loves me."

"Have you forgotten what you taught us?" Ardamil asked. "That even when we are not faithful, He is. And Haldir, you have always been faithful."

Haldir stared into the deep blue swirls that defined Ardamil's gaze. He basked in the feeling of safety his subaltern afforded. It was an unusual moment - a pleasant one, to be sure, but unusual nonetheless. Haldir had never taken refuge in anyone; in fact, he had been a refuge for others. But this moment of surrendering himself to Ardamil's care gave him a sense of serenity - the first he had experienced in many months.

"You speak with such confidence," Haldir said at last.

"That is because I am confident," Ardamil replied. "Enough now. You should be sleeping. Will it help if I sing for you?"

"You do not need to ask me that," Haldir grinned.

Ardamil began to sing.

"When Spring unfolds the beechan leaf And sap is in the bough; When light is on the wild wood stream. And wind is on the brow; When stride is long and breath is deep, And keen the mountain air; Come back to me, come back to me And say my land fair."

(Treebeard's song, p. 80, The Two Towers - my favorite of all songs in the Lord of the Rings)

He saw Haldir's muscles relax as he drifted into sleep. He watched the naked chest rise and fall in rhythmic slowness as every vestige of tension drained from his captain's body. When he had finished singing, Ardamil gently ran his fingertips along Haldir's cheek before placing a kiss on his brow.

"I will not leave you," he whispered. "And I will never let you come to harm again."

It was a promise from his heart . . . and one that he had no power to keep.

---

The crash of thunder broke directly overhead, jolting Haldir violently from sleep. He burst upright in the bed, a gasp escaping his lips.

Beside him, Ardamil, who had also drifted off to sleep, sat up and put his hands on Haldir's shoulders to calm him. "It was only thunder, Haldir . . . thunder."

Haldir's eyes were almost wild as they searched the darkness. "Someone-someone was watching," he whispered vehemently, gathering the linen cloth about his body and struggling up from the bed.

Ardamil went after him. "There is no one else here, Haldir," he insisted, trying to put comforting arms around him, but Haldir moved away from every attempt. "It was the thunder that scared you-"

"I am not afraid of thunder!" Haldir retorted. "Someone was watching!"

"Haldir, we are alone," Ardamil insisted, disturbed to see Haldir so shaken by a mere thunderstorm. "You must have been dreaming."

Haldir ignored him, and his eyes continued their wary search of the talan.

"I will go look if it will make you feel better," Ardamil offered.

When Haldir did not reply, Ardamil went anyway. He walked the length of the colonnade, went into the holy room, and even checked the two closest nests. He found no one, but then he had not expected to. When he returned to Haldir, he was dismayed to see that his captain's fear and suspicion were unabated.

"There is no one else here, Haldir." His voice was close to imploring. "I have checked everywhere-" Another explosion of thunder made both of them jump, but Ardamil took the opportunity to take hold of Haldir. "You are shaking . . . come, sit down." He ended up forcing him to sit, then had to keep his hands on him in order to keep him from getting up again. "I promise you, Haldir, no one is watching. You and I are alone."

"I can still feel it," Haldir whispered.

Ardamil frowned in distress, but he tried to appear unrattled. "But there is no one here, Haldir."

Haldir was silent for a long time. His eyes, showing white, had ceased searching the talan and were fixed on indiscriminate points before him. He was listening, but there was nothing to hear other than the sounds of the storm. At last, he raised his gaze to Ardamil. "It is gone," he said, but he did not sound relieved.

Ardamil touched Haldir's temple. "It was a dream, Haldir. It only seemed real because you were woken up so suddenly."

"Then it is a dream I have had before," Haldir replied, "but never this strong."

"You have felt this before?" Ardamil asked.

"A few times . . . ever since-ever since Legolas left," Haldir told him.

A heaviness descended upon Ardamil's heart. "Is it Legolas's gaze that you feel?"

Haldir regarded him with a puzzled expression. "Legolas? No, it could not be. He does not possess the ability to . . . to see me over such a great distance."

Ardamil colored. "I meant that . . . maybe in your dreams, you feel he is watching you, that he is . . . punishing you for sending him away."

Haldir actually looked disgusted. "Am I an elfling? Can I not distinguish between what goes on in my imaginings and what takes place in reality?"

"I did not mean it that way, Haldir-" Ardamil began, but Haldir cut him off.

"Simply because these incidents coincided with Legolas's departure does not mean he is the cause of them."

"Then who do you believe is watching you? And why?"

"I do not know," Haldir replied. "I only know that it grows more intense each time, and the fear it arouses within me increases." He paused. "That is why I had to try to resume my devotions. I need Aluvater. I need His protection." He lowered his head. "It is a crime, is it not, that my love for Him was not strong enough to prompt my return, but that my fear is."

"Stop," Ardamil demanded. "I will not hear you speak of yourself this way."

Haldir sighed. "Yet you think I suffer from a guilty conscience because of Legolas?"

"You put words in my mouth that I would never speak, Haldir," Ardamil chastised. "But I do not hold it against you, for I know you are still hurting."

Haldir glanced up at him but said nothing.

Ardamil drew one of the skins from the floor and draped it across Haldir's shoulders. "You miss Legolas, don't you?"

Haldir nodded minutely. "Yes."

"He is often in your thoughts?" Ardamil posed.

"More than he should be."

Ardamil paused before going on. "I know you have heard from him, for I have heard from him, as well. He has sent me several letters." He saw the subdued interest in Haldir's eyes. "He says that he has sent many letters to you, but you have not replied."

"I can not," Haldir said. "I do not want to encourage him, to give him false hope."

"Can you not simply be a friend to him?"

"O, Ardamil, that is not possible." Haldir sounded exasperated. "His letters are filled with the same sentiments that he expressed when he was here in Lorien. His feelings have not changed." A pause. "He warned me they would not."

"He is devoted to you-"

"His devotion would be better spent elsewhere," Haldir interjected.

"He does not think so," Ardamil replied.

Haldir grew short and agitated. "Why are you bringing this up now? I have spent the past six months trying to forget Legolas and to-to come to a proper contrition for the mistakes I made. And now, you want to dredge up all those terrible memories?"

"I shall tell you the truth, and it may very well make you angry," Ardamil began, "but I would rather endure your anger than continue to see you suffer."

Haldir waited impatiently.

"I do not believe you will ever be able to fully return to Aluvater so long as you remain estranged from Legolas." He went on quickly, before Haldir could protest. "You said it was Legolas who presented the temptation that made you fall. If that is so, then you must find a way to reconcile with him before you can find peace with Aluvater. You are fleeing from a problem that is no more solved than it was months ago. And it will not resolve itself; that part is up to you."

Haldir looked doubtful and wary. "Are you suggesting that I invite Legolas back into all the errors of his time with the Wide Patrol? That I permit the lust to develop again in his heart? And in my own?"

"Lust?" Ardamil grimaced, noting Haldir's purposeful twisting of his words. "Lust? What do you know of lust, Haldir? And you give Legolas very little credit for being able to master his feelings." A pause. "I have no firm idea of how you should reconcile with him, and I am starting to think that I should simply keep my thoughts to myself. You are quite surly when challenged."

"Then you should not challenge me." It was a flash of the old Haldir.

Ardamil groaned, but he recognized that Haldir was attempting humor. "I am not saying that either of you should give in to impure desires, if such desires are what you are feeling; and I doubt that very much. But I do say that you love him, and you must find a way to present that love properly - to both Legolas and to Aluvater."

Haldir waited a long time before answering. When he did speak, his voice was calm and firm. "No, Ardamil. I will not try to rationalize my way back into Legolas's presence. I failed this test once already. I will not fail it again."

Ardamil frowned, but this time he held his tongue. He could not help but marvel that one of the qualities he most cherished in Haldir-his fortitude-now presented the greatest source of vexation. How was an elf so stubborn to be dealt with?

---

The hilltop afforded a good view of the land. The breeze that stirred in the treetops had an early chill in it, a harbinger of colder days to come. Still, it felt good against Legolas's cheeks. It made him feel alive, and in a strange way, it made him feel mortal. Below him the forests of Mirkwood reached southward. He could see a silver line, glinting and gleaming in the sunlight, snaking its way in the same southern direction, disappearing only with the limitation of Elven eyesight. The Anduin-the river whose course ran directly to joy . . . How many times had he been tempted to put wood to water and ride the happy current to the place he wanted to be? And how many times had he been forced to thrust aside such notions as only so much foolishness?

"Legolas?"

It was the voice of his oldest brother, Canhelded. Legolas turned and greeted him with only a glance.

"A letter arrived for you today," Canhelded announced.

At these words, Legolas anxiously held out his hand and nearly snatched the letter from his brother's fingers. Opening it, however, his excitement vanished, and the disappointment registered on his face as he recognized Ardamil's script.

Canhelded watched as his youngest brother retreated to the edge of the clearing and sat on one of the boulders that dotted the treeline. He followed, then sat beside Legolas.

"It is not the letter you have been hoping for," he ventured.

"I think now that letter will never come," Legolas replied sadly.

"I have held off asking this for as long as I could," Canhelded began. "But my love for you as a brother prohibits me from delaying any longer. You have not been happy since returning to Mirkwood, yet I know you were very happy in Lothlorien. Your letters were filled with joy and gaiety. Why did you return? Why did you not stay and continue to learn with those who gave you such happiness?"

Legolas was a long time in replying. At last, he simply spoke the truth. "Haldir did not want me to stay. He had his reasons, but I will never understand them." Legolas knew that none of his brothers were aware of Haldir's being consecrated. His father had made it clear that this piece of knowledge was to stay between himself and his youngest son. Legolas assumed the reason to be that his father wished to spare the family the humiliation that must surely accompany such a revelation: King Thranduil's most beloved child had fallen prey to the allure and wiles of one of the Consecrated. The ignominy would be insupportable.

"And it is Haldir's letter you wait for." Canhelded's voice was slow and tentative.

Legolas nodded.

"What happened, then, that changed the situation so drastically? You were fairly agog at him-and still are, it would appear. From your letters, it sounded like he was very fond of you, as well. Did the accident and the attack alter him so radically?" Canhelded asked.

"I do not know," Legolas replied. "I have gone over everything a hundred-a thousand-times in my head." A great sigh of anguish fell from his lips. "All I can conclude is that I-I am somehow responsible. I pushed him towards something I wanted but that he could never give me. I did everything in my power to make him feel the way I did, but-but that all changed after the attack, after I found out what he-" He cut himself off, fearing he might have already said too much.

"What were you trying to push him towards?"

"You will laugh if I tell you," Legolas said with a hint of embarrassment.

"I think it would be good to laugh right now," came the light-hearted reply.

"I wanted to be his favorite."

As predicted, Canhelded burst out laughing. "That is amusing, but not surprising. As usual, the last wishes to be first. The glow-worm wishes to outshine all the stars. Your competitive nature followed you even into the heart of Elvendom."

Legolas grinned slightly. "You should not tease me about my competitiveness, brother, for you well know where I learned it."

Canhelded cocked his head to one side in a good-humored challenge. "Will you try to blame me now for your own qualities?"

"Blame you? No. I would thank you," Legolas teased. "But it was not like that with Haldir. I did not want to best everyone else so that I could be his star student. I wanted only to please him, to be worthy of some merit in his eyes."

"And were you successful?"

The sadness returned. "I had thought so."

Canhelded put an arm around his brother's shoulders. "It grieves me to see you so unhappy. This is not like you, Legolas. You were always the bright star, the joyful breath of Inwe. What can I do to help you recover yourself?"

Legolas looked up at his brother, placid and handsome with an air of authority and sincerity. Canhelded, being the eldest and therefore the most assured of his rights and his future entitlements, was the least competitive of Legolas's brothers. Legolas trusted him implicitly.

"There is something I would like to show you," Legolas offered. "But you must promise not to tell anyone, especially father."

"You know I can not bind myself to such an oath when I do not know if what you are about to show me is dangerous or not," Canhelded protested.

"It is not dangerous, I give you my word," Legolas assured him.

"If my judgment, upon observation, agrees with yours, then I shall keep it a secret," Canhelded conceded.

Legolas stood up. "Come," he said, leading the way up towards the center of the clearing, the hilltop from where he had scanned the vastness of the land below.

They stood side-by-side. Legolas bowed his head and closed his eyes. His voice rose like the sound of a bell, crystal clear, full and deep. It rose into the sunlight-a melody so sweet that Canhelded had never heard its like. It held him mesmerized. The language was one that he had never heard before, but that fact mattered not at all.

Around the two elves, the wind swept into power, whipping the dry brown grass to sing a chafed tune of adoration. At the edge of the wood, a pair of deer appeared, as if drawn by the sound of the singing. More woodland creatures emerged, standing perfectly still just beyond the wood's border. In the sky, flocks of birds wheeled directly overhead.

Legolas raised his arms slightly, as if invoking unseen powers. That was when Canhelded saw the great sway and movement of the entire tract of forest to the south, and he was dumbstruck. Legolas's voice grew stronger, his arms lifted higher, and for a brief, fleeting moment, it almost seemed that the sun shone brighter. Legolas lowered his arms and dropped to his knees in the field; clasped his hands in front of him and fell silent.

Canhelded did not move for many seconds. He watched as the animals retreated back into the forest. He listened as the wind quieted and the trees and the grass grew still. At last, he knelt down beside Legolas. "What-what was that? How did you do it?" he asked, the awe plain in his voice.

Legolas smiled wearily. "Did you hear them singing?"

"Singing? Who-who was singing?" Canhelded stammered.

"It took a long time before I could hear their voices," Legolas said, still glowing in the pleasure of his experience. "I could see and hear, like you, the physical manifestations, but their souls . . . that was a gift."

"What are you talking about?" Canhelded asked, nonplussed.

"It is something that Haldir taught me," Legolas beamed. "His greatest gift to me, and I did not even know it." Seeing that Canhelded was no clearer for this explanation, he went on. "It is a prayer, a prayer to Aluvater."

"And . . . and you learned this from Haldir? How did he know it?"

"Have you ever heard of the Consecrated?" Legolas asked.

"Only in stories and histories," Canhelded replied.

"Haldir is one of them."

The statement was so direct, so . . . absurd, yet spoken with such unflinching certainty that Canhelded could not doubt its veracity.

Legolas continued. "Will you keep this to yourself? Father did not want me to tell anyone that Haldir is consecrated. I do not know why. And I wish to obey him, but I had to tell someone. I could not hoard such a gift all for myself. It is meant to be shared."

"I will not tell anyone," Canhelded promised. He reached out and touched his closed hand to Legolas's temple. "You are forever full of surprises." A grin of amazement spread over his features. "A worshipper . . . my brother, a worshipper."

"You give me too much credit," Legolas replied. "I do not possess the degree of goodness that a worshipper of Aluvater must possess. If you were to meet Haldir, you would see what I mean. He is of a completely different character. He does not possess goodness; he is goodness."

Canhelded helped Legolas to his feet. "Does he know you feel this way about him?"

"He does."

"Then I still can not understand why you are here instead of in Lorien. He should consider himself the most blessed of elves to have the trust and esteem of my youngest brother. He should be proud to number you among those who serve him in his capacity as nikerym," Canhelded asserted.

Legolas was pensive. "Perhaps that is the problem," he said quietly. "Perhaps I am a worshipper, only the object of my worship does not desire to be so."

Canhelded began leading him towards the woods, back towards home. "That is very possible. I would imagine that one of the Consecrated would find it almost blasphemous to be the focus of another's worship. Could it be that you made Haldir your idol?"

"I shall think about that," Legolas replied. It was an interesting question, requiring more consideration than a quick answer would allow. And Legolas was already succumbing to the fatigue of the prayer, the effort of which had left him content but drained of energy. Then, in the detachment of his exhausted thoughts, he found a pearl of satisfaction. Here was a piece of Haldir that he had managed to bring into himself: the songs of praise. He could sing the songs and fall into the blurry contentment that followed. And if he could do these things, might he not be able one day to reach as far away as the golden woods of Lothlorien? It was this thought that gave him hope, that made the separation from Haldir bearable.

---

"Are you as dull as you look, Nikerym Haldir?"

Haldir looked up from where he sat at table on the fountain green. Nikerym Thlayrah was standing in front of him, smiling in good humor.

"Do you give me no quarter, Thlayrah? We are just back from patrol this morning," Haldir replied. "I came down here to relax. Must I always look interested and excited?"

Thlayrah sat down beside him. "Sensitive, are you not?"

Haldir grinned. "Perhaps, somewhat."

"Anything interesting on patrol, other than Luredan nearly getting swept down the Anduin?"

Haldir's grin broadened. "You heard about that?"

Thlayrah winked. "Within minutes of the Wide Patrol's return. From Luredan himself. He could not praise you enough for jumping in after him."

"I was just the quickest one of the lot," Haldir replied modestly.

"Yes, much to the anger of the rest of your patrol," Thlayrah put forth. "Ardamil was livid. Mythis was not much happier."

"Yes, yes, I am aware," Haldir said dismissively, but Thlayrah was not easily dissuaded.

"You are the one elf they are not willing to risk losing, Haldir," he went on. "And you go throw yourself into a churning river-"

"I couldn't let him drown."

Thlayrah grunted his disbelief. "Any one of them would have jumped in a second later. None of them were going to let him drown."

"A second could have made all the difference," Haldir protested.

"Perhaps." Thlayrah leaned his elbows on the table. "Haldir, it has been more than ten months. Their concern has not lessened. If anything, they are grown more protective of you. And it is not hard to see why."

Haldir leaned close, as if he were playing a game, and addressed Thlayrah with a secretive voice. "And what do you see?"

"You are still not yourself," came the simple, direct answer.

Haldir sighed. The game was over. Thlayrah was not playing. "I am myself," he replied. "Only I am not the same elf that I was ten months ago. This is me as I am now. They will have to get used to it."

"No." Thlayrah's refusal was immediate. "They should not be forced to get used to your unhappiness. Rather, they will stand by you until you are happy again. They will do everything in their power to return you to the Haldir you were before Legolas left."

Haldir groaned. "Do you not understand? Do they not understand? This has nothing to do with Legolas. It has to do with me and-and my relationship with Aluvater."

"Ardamil told me that you have resumed your prayers," Thlayrah said.

Haldir nodded. "That is true."

"And?"

"And it is not the same. The Valar ignore me. Aluvater does not answer," Haldir replied. "I just keep trying. I do not know what else to do."

Thlayrah leaned to conspiratorial closeness. His voice was low. "What if I told you that I know what you need to do."

Haldir's eyes widened. Thlayrah had never shown any aptitude for a life of worship, so how could he possibly know how to help Haldir return to Aluvater's good graces?

"Tell me," he said softly.

Thlayrah produced a letter from beneath the table and set it down between them. "This arrived while you were on patrol. A raven brought it from Mirkwood. I agreed to deliver it."

Haldir stared at the letter but did not take it.

"This-" Thlayrah nodded at the letter, "-is what you need to do. Answer it. Stop being so bull-headed, and answer it."

"I can not," Haldir protested. "There-there is too much temptation with Legolas."

Thlayrah stood up. "You are being a coward, Haldir. Whatever temptation you felt in Legolas's presence, it could not have been enough to pull you from obedience to Aluvater. You are being cruel to Legolas from a false presumption. You are suffering at your own hands, and your patrol is suffering, as well." A pause, during which he glanced pointedly at the letter. "Do the right thing, Haldir. Answer his letter."

Haldir watched him walk away, then he reached out slowly and took the letter. He would not open it here, though. Instead, he went back to his talan, settled himself into one of the nests, and broke the wax seal. Legolas's graceful hand greeted his eyes.

My Dearest Nikerym Haldir,

What though you do not reply to my letters, still will I continue writing. I receive word of you from Ardamil and your brothers and other members of the patrol. How I would rather hear from you directly. As I write this, I am aware that you are out on patrol, and my mind is filled with fond memories of the patrols which I undertook during those joyful months in Lothlorien. My greatest desire is to return to Lothlorien, to rejoin the patrol, and be once again in your company, Haldir. I know that my father would not permit it, and you do not desire it. Still, I hold out a hope that time will change your mind and his in regard to the matter. And I trust in Aluvater's justice that you and I will meet again. That is a part of you that has become a part of me - your faith in the One.

My father will send me in the Spring to Rivendell to pass some months in Lord Elrond's household. I am surprised that he would permit me such a freedom after what happened in Lorien, but then I hear it said that Rivendell is a more dour place than the Golden Woods, and that I am to focus on honing my diplomatic skills under Lord Elrond's watchful eye. There was a time when I would have relished the opportunity to visit Rivendell, but now all it does is take me further away from the only place I desire to be. Perhaps that is my father's intention. Perhaps he feels that distance and diversion will soften my affections for you.

He is my much beloved father, but how little he knows me. Surely, you know better than anyone else how persistent my feelings are.

Whatever reasons you have for wounding me with your silence, I hold the pain not against you, and I pray that one day we will meet again at your desire.

In the name of Elbereth,

Legolas

Haldir stared at the letter for several long seconds, then he folded it neatly with a sigh of anguish.

"Why did I read it?" he wondered out loud. "Why did I even take it from Thlayrah? I should have refused." He closed his eyes. "They are all conspiring against me, trying to break my will. My brothers, Ardamil . . . even Thlayrah. And I grow weary of fighting them." He unfolded the letter and started to read it again.

Then he felt it.

That horrible sensation of an unwanted gaze upon him. His breath caught in his throat as his body stiffened under the invisible scrutiny. The letter dropped from his hand and fell to the floor. He believed he could almost feel an aire of satisfaction in the air around him as the letter fluttered down.

Then, as suddenly as it had appeared, the feeling vanished; but still it was many minutes before Haldir could summon the courage and the strength to move. He was shaking slightly as he started the climb down the rope ladder leading from the nest to the talan. From there, Haldir had already decided, he would return to the Fountain. The thought of being alone suddenly frightened him. He did not want to endure the faceless observer lone, if the feeling should return. He left the nest and the talan, forgetting all about Legolas's letter, lying on the floor.

Rivendell was everything Legolas had expected: beautiful, serene, and for lack of a better description, earthy and natural. It had none of Lorien's mystical aura about it. It was a strangely cerebral place, whereas Lorien had been more bent towards the spiritual. To be sure, Rivendell was a haven in Middle Earth, just as Lorien was; but it did not share Lorien's other-worldly atmosphere. Before his trip to Lothlorien, Legolas would have relished the idea of a trip to Rivendell. But now, it was just another way to pass the days, visiting another Elven kingdom.

There was, however, one great asset to be found in Rivendell. Its libraries were vast, and Legolas made sure to take advantage of them. His host, the ever-gracious and elegant Lord Elrond, had opened all of Rivendell's vast resources to Legolas's pleasure. And it happened that Legolas spent most of his time in the libraries. With a little help from Elrond's historians, he had located a number of books that dealt with the Consecrated. The historians had regarded him with curiosity when he had requested such books, but they did not press him. It had been many centuries since anyone had given even the slightest thought to the Consecrated, and so the books had gone untouched. It took the historians some time to locate the volumes, but once they found them, they also discovered, in Legolas, a most grateful recipient. Still, Legolas did not spend all his time reading. There were other duties he had to fulfill.

He was expected to accompany Lord Elrond at as many diplomatic functions as possible, in order to learn from the elf many considered to be the master statesman. He was also to study medicine under Lord Elrond, although he had little patience for it. Legolas preferred to be active - except for when he was reading about a subject that was of the utmost interest to him - but there was little physical activity in Rivendell, and so his hours in the libraries suited him just fine.

It was late one evening when Legolas found himself seated comfortably at one of the lesser library's heavy wooden tables, a massive tome opened in front of him, written in the ancient language, illustrated with intricate drawings and symbols. His interest was so keen on the book before him that he did not hear the approach of another elf.

"It is an interesting topic you are reading about."

Legolas startled at the sound of Lord Elrond's voice. He turned in his seat and was about to stand, but Elrond waved a hand. "Be at ease."

Legolas sat and Elrond leaned against the table, his gaze fixed on the book displayed there. "It is not a common thing to find anyone reading about the Consecrated in these days." A thoughtful pause. "I take it you met Haldir while you were in Lothlorien."

Legolas could not hide his surprise and pleasure. "Yes, my Lord. I served in his patrol."

Elrond regarded Legolas with a gentle grin. "Yes, I see how your face lights up at the mere mention of his name. I had begun to wonder if you were capable of smiling."

Legolas colored but the brightness did not leave his countenance. "Do you know Haldir, my Lord?"

Elrond nodded in a paternal manner. "I met him once, many centuries ago. He had only just taken his oath. He was visiting Rivendell with his uncle, who believed that those who accepted consecration should be familiar with the larger world, and so he took Haldir out with him on his travels."

Legolas leaned forward with unconcealed enthusiasm.

Elrond regarded him curiously. "Is it your intention to follow him into that calling?"

Legolas inclined his head in a manner almost guilty. "No, my Lord. I admit that I have great interest in the life of the Consecrated, but only as it pertains to Haldir."

"I see," Elrond said, nodding slowly, and Legolas felt as if the Lord of Rivendell could see straight into his soul. He continued in a voice of measured inflection. "Yes, I recall finding Haldir to be a very intriguing elf, even all those centuries ago. He had a certain jubilant quality about him, an uncontained joy. Yes, he is certainly highly favored by the Valar."

The smile on Legolas's face had gradually been waning until, at the conclusion of Elrond's speech, he wore a deep-creased frown.

"Something about my words troubles you?" Elrond asked.

Legolas sighed. "The Haldir you remember no longer exists," he said quietly.

Lord Elrond cocked an eyebrow. "That is a curious statement. Perhaps you care to elaborate?"

"Haldir is neither jubilant nor joyful these days," Legolas replied. "Did my father tell you nothing of my visit to Lothlorien?"

"He told me you had grown tremendously during your stay there, and that he was proud of you. Is there something else he should have told me?" Elrond asked, drawing up a chair.

Legolas considered for a moment. "Haldir would probably not appreciate me saying this, nor would my father . . . but there was some trouble while I was in Lothlorien. Haldir suffered a terrible accident . . . and . . ." Legolas swallowed with effort. The memories still were painfully fresh. "And as he lay injured, men came and . . . and brutalized him." A grief-filled pause. "It changed him. It stole all happiness from him. And-and it banished me from his side."

Elrond had been listening placidly. "How did it banish you from his side? Were you to blame for what happened?"

"No," Legolas replied. "There might have been things I could have done that would have changed the course of events, but-but I would have done anything to spare him such pain. I fear-I fear my visit to Lothlorien threw many things into chaos."

"Will you tell me what happened?" Elrond asked.

Legolas related the events of the landslide and the attack, falling woefully silent on any details of his relationship with Haldir. But Lord Elrond was not deceived. Beneath the carefully contrived exterior Legolas was attempting to present, waves of confusion, frustration, and sadness were detectable. This then, Elrond decided, was the real reason Legolas was in Rivendell: to drive out whatever it was that ailed him.

"Those are tragic events, indeed," Elrond acknowledged with a slow nod. "But they are no reason for you to have left Lothlorien, not when you held your captain in such high esteem. What are you not telling me, Son of Thranduil?"

Legolas looked up into the benevolent gaze of the Lord of Rivendell - an elf as much a king as his own father, and yet so different in manner and temperament. Elrond's attention had an almost hypnotic effect, inspiring trust and confidence. He would not spread Legolas's secrets. He would not offer useless platitudes. Here was an elf whose opinion Legolas could value and take to heart.

"Haldir did not want me to stay," he said at last. "He was afraid I had fallen in love with him. My father shared his concern. Haldir felt he was being unfaithful to his vow, and I could not convince him otherwise."

"Was he right?"

Legolas drew in a wavering breath. "Perhaps," was all he would allow.

"Do you respect his vow?" Elrond asked.

"Of course, I do," Legolas replied, "But I do not-"

"Then you must let him go."

The words were spoken with calm strength and certitude. They came as a shock to their recipient. In some strange way, Legolas had been hoping and almost expecting that Lord Elrond would offer him some sort of encouragement.

"I do not want to let him go," Legolas replied. "I gave him my word that my feelings would not change. I meant it."

"Your feelings do not have to change, but your desires must. You will only cause yourself untold agony if you persist in your longing for him," Elrond said definitively. "Haldir has chosen a life to which he is bound for all eternity. His vow, his commitment will never end. No one who has accepted Consecration has ever forsaken it. Haldir, the last of his kind, will not be the first to go astray."

Legolas was defensive. "I could have given him simple companionship, like other members of the patrol-"

"Are you trying to deceive yourself? You have a desire for something much stronger than simple companionship - so much stronger that the denial of its fulfillment sits like a heavy melancholy upon your shoulders. You are not being fair to yourself," Elrond insisted. "And you are not being good to Haldir. Your yearning for his company must still be palpable to him." A pause. "And I have not failed to notice the number of letters you send out weekly-"

"They are not all to Haldir," Legolas interjected.

"I am sure of that," Elrond grinned. "But how many are sent to those who can give you word of him?"

Legolas frowned and lowered his eyes.

Elrond leaned forward and put a hand on Legolas's shoulder. "Let him go, Legolas. Give him back his peace. Let him follow his calling without distraction."

They were words spoken in earnest and without any ulterior motive. And they came from an elf lord of great wisdom and knowledge. Legolas closed the book and stood up. "If you will excuse me, my Lord. This is much to consider, and I would like to retire to my rooms, if that does not offend you."

"Certainly," Elrond replied, also standing. "Legolas, I do not say these things to hurt you. On the contrary, I am thinking only of your well-being and Haldir's."

Legolas nodded but said nothing. He made a slight bowing gesture and turned on his heel. He left the library, and never again did he return during the remainder of his stay in Rivendell.

---

The letters had stopped.

Almost six months ago, they had stopped.

There had been no gradual decline in their frequency, no indication that anything was about to change. And then, from one month to the next, they had ceased altogether - not only the letters to Haldir but to other members of the patrol, as well.

This had caused a certain amount of alarm on Haldir's part, for the letters from Legolas had comprised a steady flow, coming once a month or sometimes twice. And now, they had stopped. At first, Haldir had feared the worst, that some manner of ill luck had befallen the Prince of Mirkwood; but no such word came, and Haldir eventually heard through other channels that Legolas was quite well and still visiting Rivendell. This was good news and gave him a sense of relief on two counts: Legolas was safe, and apparently, Legolas's infatuation with him was waning.

Perhaps it was not so incredible that the second of these two realizations created for Haldir as much sadness as it did relief. There had been a part of him-deep in his soul-that had never really parted ways with Legolas. It was the part of him wherein resided memories too powerful to be jettisoned. Memories of the song of Anhumat, of sitting in the firelight and teaching Legolas the ancient language, of standing on the colonnade and hearing Legolas sing one of the prayers for the first time. There were other memories there, as well. A village green filled with dancers, and one of particular interest, whose exuberance made all others pale by comparison. A wrestling match aborted; another match won. A swim in a mountain quarry. A race across open heather under breaking clouds.

These memories rarely pushed their way into Haldir's consciousness; rather, they bobbed along in a tacit stream just below the surface of purposeful thought. They were subtle reminders of a time when joy had been at its zenith, when peace had rested like a comforting cloak over Haldir's shoulders. Could things ever return to such a state of happiness?

"Nikerym?"

Haldir looked up abruptly from where he was sitting quietly on the forest floor, fashioning a new scabbard for his long-sword. He had been so absorbed in his own thoughts that he had not heard Ardamil's approach; but now that he was gazing up into the most stolid and dependable face he had ever known, a smile spread effortlessly across his lips.

"Yes, Ardamil?"

"Tomorrow we cross the Anduin," Ardamil announced. "The patrol is almost at an end. Will you not indoctrinate our newest patrol mate on this outing?"

Haldir raised a devious eyebrow. "Perhaps. Perhaps not. There is still time." A curious expression came into his eyes. "Is there some sort of hurry?"

"Not at all," Ardamil replied. "Not on my part, at any rate. Hanloder, of course, would answer differently. He was short on patience to begin with."

Haldir gave a short laugh. "He is quite different from Dolenrod."

Ardamil dropped down and sat beside him. "You miss Dolenrod."

"I do," Haldir admitted. "But I was not going to hold him back. It is a rare honor to be considered for the Lord and Lady's service. Selection to their personal guard is not something to be passed up."

"You have passed it up," Ardamil replied, with a prodding grin.

"That is because I am better suited to my current position," Haldir replied. "Dolenrod, however, was destined from the start to serve the house of Celeborn." An audible sigh. "But I miss his humor. He was with the patrol for many centuries."

"He will not forget you," Ardamil assured him. "He is bound to you, just like the rest of us. That can never be broken."

Haldir reached over and squeezed Ardamil's arm.

Ardamil went on. "So, what about Hanloder? He is anxious to please."

Haldir laughed. "He certainly is."

"There are times when he reminds me of Legolas," Ardamil put forth.

Haldir was still grinning. "Ever so slightly."

Ardamil regarded Haldir for several seconds without speaking. It had been many months since Ardamil had permitted himself a long, indulgent look at his captain. A serenity rested on Haldir's features, and its appearance there was cause for great joy. Ardamil had wondered quite often in the months following Legolas's departure, whether or not his captain would ever recover himself. There was still an overriding melancholy in Haldir's manner, and this melancholy reflected throughout Lothlorien; yet peace had returned to a certain degree, and this was a good thing, indeed.

"You had better engage him soon," Ardamil recommended, "Or he may just decide to take the opportunity himself."

Haldir winked. "There is still time, Ardamil. After all, he has not been with us above six months," Haldir said. "It is too soon."

"Was it too soon with Mythis? Lostilsil? Luredan? They were with us less than six months," Ardamil challenged.

"Every elf is different; you know that, Ardamil."

Ardamil leaned closer. "I know that," he said in a low voice. "And I also know why you are hesitating. You are fearful of making the same mistake that you did with Legolas."

Haldir lowered his eyes. "Ardamil . . . the mistakes I made with Legolas had nothing to do with his acceptance into the brotherhood of the patrol." A long silence ensued, and then Haldir admitted in a quiet voice. "But you are right. I am afraid." A pause. "How can I know what Hanloder is feeling towards me?"

"He is feeling what all of us have felt, what all of us still feel," Ardamil replied. "The question is not what he feels; it is what you feel." There was a brief silence, then Ardamil pressed, "What do you feel?"

"Not the same as I did with Legolas," Haldir replied. "I can never let myself feel that way again."

"I think it is safe to say you will never feel that way again, Haldir," Ardamil said with a gentle smile. "So, you will have to find other ways to feel."

"And I am sure you have plenty of ideas," Haldir replied.

Ardamil laughed, a hearty and clear ringing in the lowering twilight. "I will not deny it." He stood up and held out a hand. "Come, you are wanted back in the camp. Right now, we all feel like a song, and only one elf can deliver what we desire."

Haldir took his hand and got to his feet. "Then I would not dare disappoint you."

---

"Ba dheas an la go oiche, Na glortha binne i mo thaobh 'S aoibhneas i gach ait gan gruaim Athas ar mo chroi go deo He-a-ro He-a-o-ro

Ma shiulaim o na laetha beo An ghrian 's an gleahlach ar mo chul Nil uaim ach smaointe o mo shaoil Deora ar mo chroi go gron He-a-ro He-a-ro He-a-o-ro

(adaptation: How beautiful the day and night; the earth is singing in the wind. The voices rise and touch the sky, telling all the earth's believing. And in the night sighs fall down, and from the skies signs fall down on me.

And when I move away from view, my voice is singing in the wind. It rises up to touch the sky, telling all that I believe in, and from the night, earth shall sing and from the night, earth shall sing and from the night, earth shall sing again.)

Ardamil regarded Haldir across the flames from the far side of the circle of elves. The sound of his captain's voice rivaled the warmth of the fire. It was not a prayer he was singing, but it was a song that suited him nevertheless, and it held his audience enraptured.

Beside Ardamil, Mythis stood, his face glowing contentedly. "He is amazing," Mythis said softly with a fond grin. "It is good to see him smile. I had feared he night never find joy again."

Ardamil nodded. "It is encouraging. I must admit that I had been worried how things would transpire, as the letters from Legolas have stopped coming."

"Haldir is no longer receiving them, either?" Mythis asked.

"No," Ardamil replied.

"It would appear, then, that Legolas has taken a great step away from his memories of this place, for no one has heard from him in many months," Mythis said.

"You are easily deceived, Mythis," Ardamil remarked. "Do you truly believe Legolas would so readily let go of one whom he loved so dearly?"

Mythis considered for only a brief moment. "No," he replied. "But then, why the silence?"

"His reasons will remain his own," Ardamil said. "But as long as it does not adversely affect Haldir, I will not inquire."

They were both silent for several minutes, listening to Haldir sing. At length, Mythis spoke again. "It has been a long, slow journey for him."

"It has been hard on all of us," Ardamil said. He gave a one-sided smile. "Except for you, Mythis. You have been irrepressible, as usual."

"As usual," Mythis replied, returning the grin. Then his voice grew more serious. "But it has been hard on me, as well. He has been my hero since I first joined the Guardians. From the very first, I wanted to be in his patrol. To see him so afflicted . . . it was something I could never have imagined."

"Yes . . . it was difficult to believe even while it was happening," Ardamil agreed. "But as you pointed out, he seems to be moving forward."

Mythis sighed deeply. "We are all moving forward . . . but towards what? The sky darkens. The shadows lengthen day by day. The Lord and Lady grow more somber with the seasons' turnings. Something tells me that the age is coming to an end."

Ardamil regarded Mythis with a mildly surprised expression. Such deep consideration and weighty statements were not at all the usual from the one elf considered to be the least serious-minded and the most fun-loving of the entire patrol. Mythis's strengths lay in his sword work and his single-minded devotion to his captain. Profound thought had never been a part of what others had come to expect from him.

Still, his words resonated deep within Ardamil's heart. The subaltern nodded slowly. "I have felt the same thing."

"Do you suppose Haldir feels it?"

Ardamil gave the question lengthy thought. "More than any of us," he replied at last.

Mythis was silent for many seconds, but Ardamil could tell that something was churning inside him. It only needed patience to draw it out. At length, Mythis spoke again.

"Do you think-in Valinor, will the seal still be binding?"

"I do not know," Ardamil replied honestly. He regarded Mythis curiously. "Why do you ask?"

Mythis's voice was almost a whisper. "I do not want to be separated from him, Ardamil."

It was an admission Ardamil himself had made many times in his own heart. "Nor do I," he agreed.

"I gave my word, when I took the position as First Sword, that I would die defending him, if need be," Mythis went on. "After all these centuries of being his protector, how could I possibly be content with anything less?"

"Why should you become anything less?" Ardamil asked.

"He will not need a First Sword in Valinor," Mythis replied. "I will become just like any other elf to him."

Ardamil smiled. He put an arm around Mythis's shoulders. "You will never be just another elf to him. You will always be the most beautiful elf in all of creation."

Mythis made a snorting noise. "Humph! It is an ignominious honor."

"What has brought on these thoughts, Mythis?" Ardamil asked. "I have never seen you this dour before."

Mythis replied after a brief moment of consideration, "I do not want to leave this life. I do not want to leave Middle Earth." He gave a small, self-deprecating laugh. "I do not want things to change."

Ardamil tightened his embrace. "They could change for the better." He looked Mythis in the eye. "But there is no reason why the patrol can not stay together even in Valinor. There is no reason for us to separate."

"There will be no need for a wide patrol in Valinor," Mythis said.

"Then we will stay together out of nothing more than friendship and loyalty," Ardamil said assuredly.

"And you will see to this, Ardamil?" Mythis pressed, his manner almost anxious.

Ardamil nodded slowly. "I will see to it, Mythis."

---

There followed two hundred years under a cloud of constant forboding. Despite his best efforts, Haldir could not regain the zeal and fervor that had once been the trademark of his devotions. He went through the motions, but his relationship with the One was gone. He was certain of that. He held out precious little hope of recovering it, but he would continue to try. The shadow that stalked him in his dreams and, even from time to time, in his waking hours, had been his most persistent companion. And it still had the power to drive him to terror, although as of late, it seemed to be content to merely hover on the edge of his awareness. It was out of fear of this invisible assailant that Haldir still clung desperately to his commitment to Aluvater. Fear was now a greater motivator than love. But perhaps there was good reason . . .

Beyond the boundaries of Lothlorien, the world had grown more dangerous, with rumors of fell beasts and dark travelers. The shadow in the east was spreading. Evil was preparing to stretch out its long arm once again. The Wide Patrol had become precarious duty. It seemed that the enemy had watchers in every village, at every crossroads, among the trees, and in the sky. There had been a skirmish or two in the woods far removed from Lorien, but these had been with bands of hoodlums more than with identifiable forces of the enemy. Still, there had been reports of furtive figures moving through the outskirts of the golden realm; and the border patrols had been stepped up. It seemed likely to Haldir that eventually the Wide Patrols would be discontinued, pulled in to help bolster the protection of Lorien's borders. He was not looking forward to that day.

But for now, the Wide Patrols were still in force, and on this particular morning, Haldir met the dawn on the edge of the woods above a sweeping vista of open plains called Mrainia Irvitus. He stood just within the treeline, looking out over the plains below where the gray veil of the mist was hanging like a shroud in the dim morning light.

As the sun grew stronger, rays of sparkling gold shot through the eerie canopy that hovered between the trees. The air had turned cool during the night. Haldir could see his breath before him, and this brought a much-appreciated smile to his face. He had not felt much of anything good all through the night, but now he took in a deep breath, savoring the feel of the crisp morning air filling his lungs. It made him feel more energetic, more in touch with the elements of the woods around him.

"Are you taking my watch, Nikerym?"

Haldir turned to see Mythis approaching. Behind him, the rest of the patrol was still sleeping: Peredil, Rumil, Maynfeln, and Lostilsil.

"If I were, then I should be several hours late in relieving you," Haldir replied.

"Shall I rouse the others?"

"No, not yet. We traveled hard and long yesterday. Give them another hour," Haldir deferred.

"And will you make use of that hour, as well, Nikerym?"

"I would if I could, Mythis," came the reply. "But I have not been able to get any kind of decent rest. I did not sleep at all during the night."

"What troubles you?"

Haldir considered before answering. "We have not been in this wood for many months, yet I well remember the feel of it." A pause. "It is not the same. Something has changed."

"What do you sense?" Mythis asked, his own awareness increasing.

A flash of frustration passed over Haldir's features. "There is a kind of anxiousness . . . it is almost like . . . fear," Haldir replied.

"Then perhaps we should not linger here," Mythis suggested.

Haldir felt a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. "And perhaps you should be Nikerym Mythis."

Mythis colored. "I meant no disrespect-"

"No disrespect was perceived," Haldir said. "In truth, I had considered the same thing. But unless we go back the way we came, I do not think we shall be able to elude the sensation. It seems to come from all around."

"I do not feel it," lamented Mythis. "I do not have that skill."

"You will never learn what you do not practice."

"Yes, Nikerym."

Haldir's smiled broadened. "So, this will be a good chance for you to practice."

"I fear all the practice in the world would not improve me," Mythis replied, also grinning. "Some skills can not be learned."

"Ah, but this one can," Haldir replied.

Mythis's response was wry. "I would not wish to surpass my captain at any skill."

"You are already surpassing me in just about every category, Mythis," Haldir replied good-naturedly.

"Yes, that is true," Mythis replied in a moment of good-natured cockiness.

"Including arrogance," Haldir grinned.

"I shall leave that distinction for you, Nikerym," Mythis quipped. "But I shall give you still competition."

Haldir laughed, "You are incorrigible."

Mythis smiled. "So I am told."

"Ah, but you lift my spirits," Haldir said cheerfully.

"And I am happy to do it," came the reply. "You are my captain, and it is part of our bond that I look after you."

"And being First Sword is not enough? You are the best blade in all of Lorien," Haldir told him. "With you at my back, I could not ask for a better protector."

"You speak kindly, Nikerym," Mythis said.

"I speak the truth," Haldir assured him.

They stood gazing out over the frosted plains. Everything appeared peaceful, and yet Haldir still could not feel at ease. He felt the tension rising again inside him, but then Mythis's voice drew him out of himself once more.

"May I ask you something, Nikerym?"

"Of course," Haldir replied, turning to face him.

"Have you-how many elves have you tried to teach the Ancient Language to?"

Haldir was perplexed. It was an odd question, especially coming from Mythis. "Not many," he replied. "Few have asked. Five or six, including my brothers."

Mythis nodded but said nothing right away. After a few seconds, he stated with quiet bluntness, "You have never taught me."

Haldir gave a short bark of laughter. "You have not the patience for it, Mythis. Nor have you ever shown an inclination," he said good-humoredly.

"That is true . . . you are right," Mythis admitted.

Haldir reached out and squeezed Mythis's shoulder. "You are a sword fighter and a jester and the fairest of all elves. I would rather you learn to sense your surroundings than to speak in the Ancient Language. Go now and finish up your watch." With that, he strode away into the open upper slope beyond the wood and gave no more thought to Mythis's words. He surveyed the plain stretching out before him, raising his hand to shield his eyes against the sun. He saw nothing to give him alarm, but the uneasiness did not subside. He closed his eyes for an instant, a brief joy accompanying the feeling of the sun on his face.

'Then perhaps we should not linger here.'

Mythis had been right. It was dangerous to stay in this place. But exactly what was the danger? And where was it? Last night, when they had made camp here, Haldir had felt only vaguely disconcerted that things were not as peaceful and pleasing as he remembered them. That feeling had intensified during the night, and as the first light had come into the wood, the distress had become such that Haldir had given up any idea of sleep. Whatever was causing the disturbance had to be discovered and reported back to Lorien.

He reached into his waist pouch and snapped off a corner of lembas. He sat down on the moss-covered trunk of a toppled tree and took a small bite. He was fully intending to simply wait out the hour he had promised his sleeping company, but then a spasm of urgency shot through him. Instinct and training taking over, he rolled back across the trunk and ducked down behind it, peering out cautiously from its protection.

Across the plain, a great forest stood black against the sun rising behind it. From the darkness at the edge of that forest, shapes were emerging, but keeping to the shadows.

"Orcs," Haldir whispered to himself. He did not hesitate another moment before turning and racing back through the woods. Coming into their encampment, he motioned to Mythis. "Get them up," he said, the calmness of his voice in stark contrast to the urgency in his manner. "We are going to have company. Orcs, on the border of the opposite wood."

Mythis, unflappable as ever, simply nodded and together, he and Haldir roused the rest of the small company. Haldir was issuing orders on the instant. "Lostilsil, Peredil with me. Mythis, you've got the rest of the patrol. Wait here, take up positions and stay hidden. We will report back shortly. Be prepared to open fire in case we are pursued."

Mythis had barely nodded his acknowledgment before Haldir turned, and summoning Peredil and Lostilsil, sped off towards the wood's edge.

At the wood's border, Haldir slowed and held up his hand in caution. He and his two companions concealed themselves behind the trees. Looking out across the plain, Haldir could now see that the full band of orcs was moving in their direction, following the line of the wood as it curved west and northward, staying just within the shadowy boundaries. A quick estimate numbered them at fifty or sixty.

"What do you see, Peredil?" Haldir asked, for he knew that even among elves, Peredil's eyesight was exceptional.

Peredil surveyed the troop. "They are definitely orcs. They carry pikes and swords and axes."

"Do they carry any mark?" Haldir asked.

"None that I can see, Nikerym."

"If they do not deviate from their present course, they will be upon us within minutes," Lostilsil stated.

"And if they stay on such a course, that would take them north towards Lothlorien," Peredil added.

Haldir regarded the orcs for several more seconds. It was absurd that such a small party of orcs should attempt to take Lorien, but in these days of uncertainty, nothing could be discounted. What surprises might they bring with them? What unexpected abilities? And were they, in fact, headed for Lorien? Or were they on their way from Mordor to some other place, bypassing Lorien en route?

"We are too small a force to confront them," Haldir said pensively. "But we must track their movements. If they are heading for Lorien, we will send word ahead to warn Lord Celeborn. In the meantime, we must send word to the rest of the patrol that our plans have changed. Stay here. Keep an eye on them." He moved back deeper into the woods and for the first time in many decades, opened his mind to the voices of the woodland around him.

"I need winged messengers," he announced silently.

Only a few seconds had passed before his summons was answered. A flock of hendari had been in the trees, taking a moment's respite during their journey south. They now answered Haldir's call and within a short time were dispatched to carry the news to the three other companies of the patrol. Haldir also sent word to Lord Celeborn, in the event that the orcs were heading for Lothlorien, so that a defense could be prepared.

Haldir returned to Peredil and Lostilsil. The party of orcs was now halfway along the treeline.

"Did you order the rest of the patrol to come back, Nikerym?" Lostilsil asked.

If there was one trait that Haldir possessed in abundance, even after the trials of the last two centuries, it was confidence in his abilities as a warrior. But he was not fool-hardy. He had sent word to put the patrols at the ready to return if need be, but he was not prepared to recall them at that moment. "That is not necessary yet. If the orcs are formidable, I will send another messenger requesting their return."

"But the other companies are many miles away by now, Nikerym," Peredil said. "It would take them at least half a day to rejoin us."

"It will take at least three days moving at their current speed for the band of orcs to reach Lothlorien. If it becomes necessary, it will be quicker for reinforcements to come from Lothlorien than for us to recall the rest of the patrol," Haldir said assuredly. "For now, all we will do is track their movement and report it back to Lord Celeborn. I do not want to risk open confrontation. We are greatly outnumbered." He turned to Peredil. "Bring the rest of the patrol up."

"Yes, Nikerym." Peredil disappeared into the wood, returning shortly with Mythis, Rumil, and Maynfeln.

Haldir was direct. "These orcs outnumber us, and they appear to be well equipped. I do not wish to engage them. We will track their movements, and if it becomes apparent that they are heading for Lothlorien, we will take whatever action is necessary to protect the realm. Take up staggered positions along their projected path. Use only woodland calls. If they have not changed course by the time we reach Narrower Pass, then we will assume they are heading to Lorien, and we will put up a delaying tactic until Lord Celeborn can send up reinforcements."

There was a silent acknowledgement of these instructions before the various members of the patrol moved off to blend in seamlessly with their surroundings.

After no more than a minute, the silence of the woodland was broken with the orcs' heavy footfalls and unintelligible grunting. As they entered that part of the wood, it was as if a shadow had entered with them. They did not stop, did not detect the elven eyes that followed their movements and tracked their progress through the wood. Now that they were on the northern rim, they broke from following the treeline and delved deeper into the forest on a northward path that, if unaltered, would lead them by the most direct route to Lothlorien. Their speed was considerable, and as they entered the stony highlands, they showed no slackening of pace. By evening they had reached the southern end of Narrower Pass, high up in the cloud-shrouded crests of the mountains.

Above them, peering down from a sliver of black rock that jutted out high over the entrance to the pass, Haldir and Lostilsil evaluated the situation. Maynfeln and Mythis were behind the troop, moving forward to join Rumil and Peredil, who were already positioned at the northern end of the pass. There was no call to track the orcs through the pass, as there was no turning off once underway. Once the orcs emerged from the other end, the patrol would continue its leapfrog tracking. But first Haldir would send word to Lord Celeborn.

Haldir moved away from the ledge and once again, prepared to call for messengers, but before he could do so, a terrifying chill swept over him. Instinctively, his searching gaze went upward into the hovering mist of cloud, and here he thought he discerned a dark shadow sweeping overhead. For a moment, every thought was jumbled. He forgot what he was doing, where he was, and the urgency of the situation. He could not tear his eyes from their desperate survey of the surrounding fog. The watcher had returned; only now, Haldir had the horrible sense that the watcher had come not simply to watch, but to pursue.

"Nikerym, the orcs have halted."

Haldir whirled around, startled, at the sound of Lostilsil's voice.

Seeing the expression on his captain's face, Lostilsil put out a hand and rested it on Haldir's arm. "Are you alright, Nikerym?"

Haldir steadied his breathing as best he could. "Something evil has come."

"What is it? What has come?" Lostilsil asked anxiously.

"I do not know-"

"Nikerym, several of the orcs, including their leader, moved back down the pathway only seconds ago. I can not see how far they have gone. The rest wait at the entrance to the pass," Lostilsil reported. "It was a very deliberate move; they went back for a purpose."

Haldir appeared, for a brief moment, to be at a loss; but then he acted decisively. "We must get out of here. Something is watching . . . it knows we are here. And that means the orcs will soon know we are here."

Lostilsil had learned long ago not to question his captain's odd sense of forboding. He was on the move the instant Haldir had finished speaking. As he leapt from one spine of rock to another, he heard the sound of metal against stone - the unmistakable ping of an arrow missing its mark.

"Take cover!!" Haldir shouted, and Lostilsil dropped down into one of the shallow fissures, no more than ten feet deep, between the ridges that topped either side of the pass. A moment later, Haldir joined him. "Run!" he ordered, "To the end and then up the other side!"

As they ran, Haldir kept looking back over his shoulder, waiting for the orcs to appear. When, at last, they came into sight, Haldir and Lostilsil had come to the end of the fissure, where it dropped off abruptly down a sheer face whose bottom was lost in the mist. Here, the two elves sprang to the top of the opposite wall of the fissure and began picking out a path parallel to the pass.

Arrows flew around them, one even grazing Lostilsil's arm. The orcs followed, and Haldir knew it would only be a matter of time before one of the arrows found its mark, if they continued fleeing in the manner they were, which forced them to cross over fairly open and unprotected ground between the undulating waves of the rocky landscape.

When they dropped down into the next crevice, Haldir reached out and put a firm hand on Lostilsil's arm, stopping him in flight. "We can not escape them this way," he said. "I will try to draw them off, and you must get back to Mythis and the others and warn them-"

Lostilsil gave a curt nod. "I will bring them back-"

"Their first duty is to warn Lord Celeborn," Haldir instructed. "Do not come back. If I can, I will lead the orcs to other end of the pass. Tell Mythis to set up an ambush." A pause. "I will create a diversion for you, and then you must go. It all depends on you now."

"I will not fail," Lostilsil replied.

Haldir followed the crevice towards the pass. When he came to the end, he leapt up out of the crevice and took scanty cover behind a lichen-covered outcropping of rock. Within seconds, he had sent half a dozen arrows flying, felling as many orcs. As a diversionary tactic, it was effective - too effective. The attention of the orcs was completed focused upon him, so that when Lostilsil sprang from his position, scarcely a glance was given to him, and what little attention was paid him was soon called off in favor of attacking Haldir's position.

Seeing Lostilsil make it safely to the next fissure, Haldir now had his own situation to contend with. Slinging his bow over his shoulder, he began nimbly picking his way down the wall of the pass. He reached the bottom just as the first orcs appeared on the ridge above. But they did not attempt to climb down. Instead, they dropped back from the ridge, except for a dozen or so that remained to fire arrows down into the pass.

Haldir had started to run, but he had gone only a few steps when he noticed something that the haze had obscured from the top of ridge. The ground in the pass was freshly disturbed - by many footsteps. It became clear to Haldir very suddenly that only a part of the orc party had pursued him and Lostilsil across the upperland. The rest had entered the pass. If they reached the other end before Lostilsil did, they might pass by the rest of the patrol unmolested. Keeping close to the wall he had just descended, Haldir broke into full speed. The orcs now knew they were being tracked. He had to put into effect whatever delaying tactics he could in order to purchase time for the message to reach Lord Celeborn - if any members of his current patrol could send such a message.

On the upperland, Lostilsil was not pursued. It shocked him that his escape should be unhindered; the entire mass of pursuers had gone after Haldir. This made no sense, no sense at all. He almost turned back, fearing that his captain might have fallen into a trap; but he had his orders, and Haldir had taught him well never to disobey orders. He continued running. When, at last, he came to the far end of the upperland, he sent up a woodland cry, which was immediately answered by another. He recognized the sound as friendly, and began scrambling down the rocky descent towards the path where it emerged from the pass. Another call from nearby drew his attention, and he turned to find himself facing Mythis across a shallow pool of icy water.

Mythis came to meet him. "Where is Haldir?"

"There is trouble," Lostilsil announced. "The orcs have seen us and fired upon us. The captain drew them off so I could get word back to the rest of the patrol. We are to notify Lord Celeborn. Haldir will try to lead them through the pass. He wants you to set up an ambush."

"Elbereth!" Mythis said under his breath, then he cried out a signal, loud and strong, which brought Maynfeln from his hiding place. "The orcs know we track them. Haldir will lead them out of the pass, and we must set up an ambush, but first we must send a message to Lord Celeborn. You must do this, for I have no skill with the woodland creatures."

Maynfeln complied and immediately summoned one of the endari that made their nests in the high crags that were inhospitable to most other animals. The message was sent, and now Mythis brought Maynfeln and Lostilsil to take up positions on either side of the pass where it emerged into less confined ground. A series of calls informed the three that Rumil and Peredil were on their way and moving quickly - only Mythis feared they might not be quick enough.

---

Haldir stopped. All around him, an eerie silence hovered thicker than the mist. The arrows from above had stopped, and after the mayhem of the past several minutes, the sudden quiet was unnatural and disconcerting. Hugging the wall, he moved slowly forward, measuring every step. Then he heard it - the sound of breathing and the creaking of leather and metal, and it was coming from in front of him, further down the path. The orcs that had preceded him into the pass had made a covert doubling back, and were now attempting to approach in secret.

There were no places in which to conceal himself in the walls on either side of the pass, and so Haldir turned back towards the southern entrance, but he had not gone far when he discerned the sound of orc voices coming towards him. He was now trapped in between the two parties. The only way out was up. He began climbing.

The voices grew nearer until they were directly below him, and then there was uproarious tumult as the two parties met and realized their quarry had somehow squeezed past them. But then the tone of their grunts and cries changed, and suddenly an arrow bounced off the cliff face beside Haldir's head. Sparing only a second to glance below him, Haldir saw a small sea of hideous faces glaring up at him, weapons raised in the air in fury. Just above him was a small conclave, which he reached just as another arrow whizzed past him. He was not quite halfway up the wall, and any idea of completing the climb now seemed out of the question. The tiny ledge where he now took refuge offered enough protection from the orcs down in the pass, as long as he remained pressed to the wall, and as long as the orcs did not try to scale the wall.

But he had forgotten about the orcs on the opposite ridge. They now appeared again and began shooting their arrows, and with their target trapped on the open face of a rock wall, it did not take long before one of the arrows found its mark.

Haldir felt the pain in his side, just below his ribs. He looked down to see a short, slender feather-tipped shaft protruding from the folds of his tunic. Haldir grasped it firmly and from the relative nonseverity of the pain, he judge it had not gone deep. He pulled gently. The arrow slid out. It was neither barbed nor headed. This arrow was not meant to kill-not by violent injury, at any rate.

"Poison!" The word burst upon Haldir's mind. Looking about him, he saw that all the arrows had now stopped. The orcs knew he had been hit. But what were they all waiting for? Why had they not continued on through the pass? Why-why had they gone to such great lengths to trap him? One elf?

A coldness began to travel through his veins. The shadow of the past two hundred years passed over him again, igniting the terror anew in his mind. The poison was starting to work on him. He looked up at the top of the ledge, swimming across his vision, and in the confusion of his thoughts, he began to climb again.

Below, one of the orcs raised his bow and readied another arrow, but the leader of the band held out his hand and forced him to lower his weapon. "Another one will kill him. I will not incur the master's wrath. Only wait.. . his effort pumps the poison faster through his body."

Haldir had managed only a short further before his arms and legs began to grow numb, and his breathing became sluggish. His thoughts devolved until they became completely mired in repetitive and incomplete commands which his body would no longer obey.

"Rumil, Mythis-" he said inwardly. "H-hear me . . . "

Blackness began to cloud the edges of his vision.

"I need . . . help . . ."

No answer came. He could not focus. He could not reach out to the rest of patrol. The downward spiral into unconsciousness scattered his thoughts, his hold was lost, and he fell to the ground below.

---

Mythis had never trembled until now. His sense of misgiving was overpowering. Haldir should have led the orcs through the pass by now. Something had gone wrong. And now Mythis was faced with the decision to stay in place or go back along the pass in the event that Haldir was in need of aid. But if he moved too soon, he could jeopardize any hope of surprise in ambushing the orcs. Or worse yet, he could encounter them in a location not well suited to attack. The narrow confines of the pass presented a risk of entrapment that Mythis was not willing to risk.

He could send the patrol back over the upperland on either side of the pass. There, they would not be as vulnerable to attack and would command a solid view of the goings-on in the pass. He recalled the patrol to him and gave them their new orders. He took Peredil with him, while Rumil, Maynfeln, and Lostilsil-the wound on his arm bound with a makeshift bandage-went together on the other ridge. Stealth was sacrificed for speed, and yet from the outset, Mythis feared they were already too late.

---

There was no move right away to touch the fallen elf. It only seemed to seep very slowly into the minds of the orcs that they now had a prisoner at their hands upon which they could vent their aggression. The first one to approach him did no more than nudge him with a leather-bound foot. From there, the degree of boldness grew but did not go very far before the orc leader put an end to it.

"No more of this!" the leader shouted. "He awaits, and I shall not be the one to keep him waiting. Bring him!"

One of the orcs flung the unconscious elf over his shoulder, and the entire troop moved back towards the southern end of the pass. As they emerged into the more open land, a shadow passed overhead, and an ear-shattering shriek filled the air. Heavy wings beat out a formidable wind, which died as taloned claws gripped the stony crags near the entrance to the pass. The fell beast alighted with a piercing roar, which its rider echoed in kind.

Before this fearful beast and rider, the greater part of the orc party cowered, but the leader approached, dauntless, almost gleeful. "We have captured the one the Dark Lord desires."

The rider's voice was deep and full of hissing. "Give him to me."

The prize was handed over, and no more words passed before the wicked servant rose his mount into the sky and vanished into the folds of cloud.

Melkor awaited.

"Where are they?" Mythis whispered, his eagle-like gaze sweeping up and down the pass below. He and Peredil had come to the other end of the pass and they had not caught even a glimpse of orcs or Haldir, although they had seen the heavily disturbed ground on the floor of the pass. "This is where they entered, and there is nowhere they could have turned off. They must have turned back completely."

"What about Nikerym Haldir?" Peredil asked, his voice belying his anxiousness.

"I do not know," Mythis replied. "He might be tracking them or he might have been taken prisoner. Either way, we must go after them-"

From down below came the sound of Rumil's voice, not disguised and filled with fear. "Mythis! Come down!! Hurry!"

Mythis and Peredil scurried down the slope and met Rumil, Lostilsil and Maynfeln at the mouth of the pass.

"Look at this." Rumil held out a slender arrow, streaked with blood along several inches. "Orc arrows-almost all of them are this shape."

The implication was immediate and clear.

"Poison-" Peredil gasped.

"Or a drug," Lostilsil proposed. "This arrow found its mark. If they had intended to kill, they would have left Haldir for the poison to do its work."

"They have taken him, then," Mythis completed the train of thought.

"And only him. They did not come after the rest of us," Lostilsil continued, then he added, "Mythis . . . when I was up on the ridge with Haldir, he grew terribly frightened for a moment. He kept searching the sky and he said that evil had come. He said that we had to get away. He felt something was watching us."

Mythis blanched at this added information, then asked Lostilsil. "Are you able to communicate with the wild creatures?"

Lostilsil hesitated. "I-I believe so. I have done it before."

"I want you to stay back-you are injured. Send word to Lord Celeborn and the rest of the patrol, tell them that Haldir is missing and may have been taken captive. Tell the patrol to meet at the Ypres encampment as quickly as possible, that they are to keep cover and expect a party of orcs to be approaching some time in the next two days. Let us hope the orcs return over the same route by which they came. Then you are to return to Lothlorien by the fastest means possible." Mythis did not wait for an acknowledgment before leading the rest of the patrol back along the path to the south. The orcs could not be far ahead; and once they were brought under surveillance, if Haldir were in their midst, which seemed more likely with every passing second, Mythis was not wholly convinced that he would be able to withstand the urge to do battle then and there in order to recover his captain. It was a dangerous thought, for it would surely mean the deaths of every member of his small party - and quite possibly, Haldir, as well. But Mythis, as he was often reminded, was not given to careful, calculated thought. His role was that of a follower, a protector. He was not a leader, not a planner. He was a reactionary, which made him an excellent first sword, although at the moment, he felt that he had failed that assignment miserably. How could he protect Haldir when he was not able to be by his side at all times? He berated himself for not being more insistent with his captain, for not demanding that he be permitted to carry out his duty even when not on the field of battle. He might not have been able to stop the orcs in their fiendish plot, but he would have made it costly for them. He would still make it costly . . .

Less than two hours passed before the elves drew within sight of the orcs. It was clear right away that the orcs were not moving at full speed. There was no sense of urgency on their part, and it soon became apparent why.

Haldir was not with them.

This discovery came as a shock to the tracking elves, and they did not know whether to take it as good news or bad news. If Haldir was not a prisoner of the orcs, then where was he? Had Mythis and the others somehow missed him in the Narrower Pass? Had he been discarded somewhere along the route? What had happened to him?

For Mythis, it was only an added dimension to the nightmare. Not knowing what else to do, he sent Peredil back to scour the area, while he, Rumil, and Maynfeln continued to track the orcs towards where the rest of the patrol would hopefully be waiting in the next day or two. Then, if an attack could be launched on the orcs, answers might be found. They must be found. How was such a thing as the disappearance of Haldir to be borne? It was impossible, and it was not something Mythis was not willing to contemplate.

---

Ardamil got to his feet and brushed himself off. With a smile, he extended his hand to Ascalonn, who was lying on the ground in front of him, groaning dramatically.

"Even Nikerym Haldir lets me win one every now and then," Ascalonn said, accepting Ardamil's hand. "But you give me no such quarter, Ardamil."

"My purposes are different from Haldir's," Ardamil replied. "He forges the bond. I create the warrior."

"Ah, that is only partly true," Henschel spoke up. "For Haldir has created warriors, and you have created bonds."

Ardamil turned a wry grin in Henschel's direction. "Your point, good friend?"

Henschel did not miss a beat. "You both share in each other's tasks. As it should be."

"As it should be," Ardamil agreed. As he reached for his tunic, a violent chirping caught his attention, and looking up into the boughs above, he saw an enaui perched in plain sight, chattering excitedly. Ardamil could make out scarcely a word, but he knew it could not be good news, considering the last message that had come the day before - a warning from Haldir of a party of orcs heading in the general direction of Lothlorien.

The rest of the patrol watched as Ardamil pursed his lips and coaxed the bird into a slower voice. As the message came through, the expression on Ardamil's face prompted concern from the rest of patrol.

Urthenang, another member of the patrol, spoke out, "What is he on about?"

Ardamil held up a hand, commanding silence. He then had a brief exchange with the enaui, through which his pale countenance grew even more ghostly with each passing second. When the conversation ended, he turned his ashen visage towards the anxious patrol members.

"The orcs have attacked Haldir's party. It is believed that Haldir has been taken prisoner. We are to head towards Ypres and stay hidden and wait for the arrival of the orcs or Mythis's party, whichever gets there first," he announced.

"It will take us a full day's travel to reach Ypres," Urthenang stated.

"Then let us not waste any time!" Ardamil ordered, pulling on his tunic. He looked back to the enaui. "When was this message sent?"

"Sundown."

"Who sent it?"

"Silver tree."

Ardamil recognized the common speech name for Lostilsil.

"From where?"

"Path rock highlands, the narrow way."

Ardamil did a quick internal calculation as he strapped on his weapons. "We should still be able to reach the encampment before the orcs get there, unless they have acquired some manner of greater speed."

"And what will we do once we get there?" Henschel asked.

"That is what I will be formulating as we move," Ardamil replied. "Hopefully, we will receive another message with more information before we arrive, before the orcs arrive. Now, we go. The time for talk is over."

---

Ardamil's party reached Ypres shortly after sundown on the second day. A quick survey turned up no indications that the orcs had passed back through the area yet, and so Ardamil ordered his warriors to take up positions and to stay on the alert, not only for the orcs but for the arrival of the other two parties of the patrol, which had also been recalled. Ardamil had not expected Mythis's party to reach the rendezvous ahead of the orcs, so when a second message came via another enaui, the subaltern received it anxiously.

The message, though simple, was hardly consoling. "Nikerym not with orcs. Still missing. What to do?"

Ardamil hardly knew what to make of this news. Haldir was not with the orcs, yet he was still missing. Mythis was inquiring for a course of action. Ardamil suspected that the orcs knew what had happened to Haldir. But was it worth risking open confrontation in order to try and squeeze the information, if it were to be had, out of one of the orcs?

It did not take Ardamil but an instant to answer himself. For Haldir, any risk was worth the taking.

"Take this message back to the one who sent you. Follow orcs to Ypres. We attack together."

No sooner had the enaui departed than Ardamil heard a familiar call in the wood. He responded in kind, and in a few moments, Orophin emerged from the undergrowth, the members of his small patrol following. They had come in from the west, making good time once the summons had come.

"Ardamil, what news?" came the harried demand.

"The orcs have not yet come through. Mythis says that Haldir is not with the orcs but is still missing."

Orophin stared at Ardamil, looking almost panic-stricken. "What are we to do, then?"

"We will attack the orcs when they come through. They may not have Haldir, but they will know of his disappearance. It is their doing," Ardamil replied.

---

He was surrounded by complete silence, an emptiness so pervasive that it had entered his awareness before he had even regained consciousness.

A coldness dug clear down to his bones, like icy fingers invading his body . . . it was a horrifyingly familiar feeling . . . from long ago . . . the cave . . . the men . . .

He sat up abruptly, and his eyes shot open onto an unnatural blackness. It was more than the absence of light; it was as if the very darkness were infused with evil. He sensed, intuitively, that he was alone; and as he waited for his eyes to adjust, he called to mind the last event in his memory: the image of the poisoned arrow protruding from his side. Clearly, not a deadly poison as much as a sedating one. The objective had not been to kill, then; it had been to capture. And the orcs had obviously been successful in accomplishing that mission.

Haldir's entire body ached, and the stunning cold drove the pain deeper until it felt as if his very bones were freezing. He wrapped his arms around him, surprised to find that he was still fully clothed. His elven garments did nothing to protect him from the cold. He sat for several minutes without moving, staring into a blackness that did not dissipate, to which his eyes could not accustom themselves. His mind, still tinged with the poison, was sluggish, moving vaguely from one recollection to the next, but without any rhyme or reason. These were not thoughts that he was conjuring . . . rather it was almost as if the images were being forced into his awareness, drawn out and sifted through. Visions of his uncle and the stained glasses in the holy room gave way to remembrances of rapturous prayer in which no one but Haldir had shared. He saw the faces of his brothers on the day of his Consecration - the awe that had been in their eyes. Thereupon followed image after image drawn from his life in the patrol. He felt like an observer as, in his mind, the centuries rolled back to reveal moments that defined who he was, moments in which he had discovered that he had been given a remarkable gift . . .

---

"I have recommended and you have been accepted to command of the Wide Patrol."

Haldir was momentarily speechless. His eyes widened at the unexpected honor for which his captain had nominated him, and which had been secured for him without even an inquiry as to Haldir's feelings in the matter.

The inquiry came now. "Does that meet with your approval?"

Haldir felt the smile spreading across his face, and he did not care if he appeared too anxious or excited. This was what he had desired from the moment he had joined the ranks of the guardians.

"Yes, it meets with my approval," he replied, his manner almost giddy.

"I shall miss you, I will not deny it. But you have surpassed me in ability, and although your wisdom does not yet equal mine, the day is not far off when it shall. I knew the Wide Patrol was in your blood, ever since the first time I let you go out with them."

Haldir colored at this unabashed praise coming from his own captain. "You give me far too much credit, Nikerym Thlayrah. All that I have learned about soldiering, I learned from you. All that I have learned about leadership, I learned from you," he replied.

Thlayrah smiled indulgently. "The first part is certainly correct. The second part is kindly said, but it is not completely accurate. You came into this patrol with all the makings of a great leader. All I have done is draw out qualities you already possessed." He paused, then with a feigned sigh, added, "And you must choose a proper subaltern to go with you. I need not ponder who your selection will be."

"There really is only one choice," Haldir replied. "I could not imagine going to a new assignment without him."

"Ardamil is a good choice." Thlayrah gave a slight laugh. "He keeps you in line, and unlike the others, he does not hold you in such awe that he fears chastising you when you have earned it."

Haldir inclined his head in concession. "That is quite true." When he looked up again into Thlayrah's handsome face, he asked the only other question that was on his mind.

"Nikerym, why did you not take the position? You are the greatest captain in the Golden Realm. The Wide Patrol was yours for the taking. Why did you turn it down?"

Thlayrah put a hand on Haldir's shoulder. "Because I was not the one best suited to the job. You will come to understand, Haldir, that no good captain seeks honor or glory for himself. As one of the Consecrated, perhaps you already understand that with regard to Aluvater. All the good you do is done for Him. As a captain of the Galadhrim, your loyalty is to those who serve you. And when their skill exceeds your own, you rejoice for them." His eyes reflected the truth of his words. "You will be the greatest captain Elvendom has ever known. And I shall always be proud of you. You are everything I could have asked for in a warrior, and you even brought along some qualities that I did not know existed. Your turn has come. The One must desire it as much as I do." With these words, Thlayrah leaned close and pressed his temple to Haldir's.

Haldir had never been given to emotional displays. He felt it was unsoldierly. Still, he permitted himself a moment of shaken voice. "You will always be my captain, Nikerym Thlayrah." It was spoken almost like a question, an imploring.

Thlayrah's mouth curved into a loving smile. "Yes, I will. Go now. Find your subaltern and tell him the good news."

Haldir went away, joy radiating from his countenance, his movements blithe and energetic.

Ardamil was easy to find. In those days, his favorite spot was a grassy hillock near the edge of a wild meadow just outside the city walls. Here, he could often be spotted lying in the grass, simply listening to the sounds around him.

That was where Haldir found him.

"Making good use of your time?" Haldir teased.

Ardamil did not even sit up, but a smile lit his face.

"I am gathering new melodies for my songs," Ardamil replied. "Do you hear the ullaie? They are very vocal this afternoon."

"And yet, they can never sound as beautiful as you," Haldir said earnestly. He sat down beside Ardamil, who now glanced over with a simper forming on his lips.

"You are an honest flatterer," he said, pushing up onto his elbows. "I can see in your eyes that you have searched me out for a specific purpose. What is on your mind, Haldir?"

Haldir was always amazed at how well Ardamil could read him. "I do have something I wish to tell you." He paused. "Did you know Nikerym Thlayrah had recommended me to command the Wide Patrol?"

Ardamil sat up fully, his expression one of considerable surprise. "Did he? No, no, I did not know that. It is true that you would be perfect for the position, but . . . " He eyed Haldir cautiously. "And has a decision been made?"

Haldir replied quietly, "I have accepted."

Ardamil was silent for a long time. At last, he managed a feeble smile. "I congratulate you."

"You are sad?" Haldir asked.

"I am happy for you," Ardamil answered.

"You do not act as if you were happy."

Ardamil sighed. "I am trying not to be selfish."

Haldir fought down the smile that was threatening to show on his face as he drew Ardamil further along. "What are you talking about? You have not a selfish bone in your body."

"As I would have you believe," Ardamil replied.

"Then you have been deceiving me all these years?" Haldir prodded. "Very well, then. If there is a selfish bone in your body, what is that bone's wish? Why do you struggle with it now?"

"It is nothing I would wish to burden you with," Ardamil replied, getting to his feet. "I am very proud of you, Haldir. You will make an excellent captain."

Haldir regarded Ardamil with fondness. "You are completely inept at hiding your sadness, and it is an unnecessary sadness. Did you think for one moment that I would leave you?" Seeing Ardamil's questioning gaze, he went on. "I have requested you as my subaltern, and Thlayrah has agreed."

Ardamil froze for a stunned moment, then sprang at Haldir, dropping to the ground on top of him. "How could you torment me like that?!!" he cried joyfully, struggling to pin the elf who would be his new captain. "You like to play dangerous games!"

They wrestled through the long grass until eventually Haldir prevailed. With Ardamil pinned on his stomach beneath him, Haldir said in a smug voice, "You will have to get much better if you hope to stay on as subaltern."

Ardamil retorted good-naturedly without a moment's hesitation. "I was being easy on you, in deference to your new position."

Haldir sat up and rolled Ardamil over. "And now you are making fun of me?"

"I would never make fun of my future captain," Ardamil replied.

"Can I take that as an acceptance of my offer?"

"Did you have any doubt?" Ardamil asked, getting to his feet and extending a hand to Haldir.

Haldir clasped his hand and was drawn up in one motion, reminding him just how strong Ardamil really was and that it might have been no more than the truth when Ardamil had said that he had been easy on Haldir.

Haldir faced Ardamil squarely. "You will be faithful to me, then?"

Ardamil held Haldir's steady gaze. "With all that I am," he replied.

"And loyal?" Haldir pressed.

"Even beyond death," Ardamil said, his voice growing ever softer, ever more intense. "As I say it, so it shall be."

Haldir was deeply moved. He had known that he could depend upon Ardamil, but he had, at that time, no real inkling as to how vast and encompassing Ardamil's love was. And now, what was he to give in return for Ardamil's expression of fealty?

"And what would you exact from me as a pledge of my return devotion?" he asked.

Ardamil shook his head. "I would exact nothing from you . . . Nikerym. You will be my captain. My trust is well-placed."

Again, Haldir was humbled by the simple, unaffected devotion of the elf before him. "Then I will give you my pledge without the asking." He took Ardamil's face in his hands and drew him close until his lips touched Ardamil's forehead. As he drew back, he spoke with a solemnity that Ardamil had only heard before in the recitation of the prayers.

"This kiss is my seal, the sign of my devotion to you. It is the symbol of our bond, of my choosing you. And in so choosing, I accept all responsibility that comes with the forging of this brotherhood. I will be bound to you . . . always. There shall be no sundering of our union." He paused briefly. "There will be many more to follow, Ardamil. It will be my way. But you will always be the first. Even when I am no longer your captain, you will still be first."

"You honor me more than I deserve," Ardamil replied, embarrassed to find his voice shaking.

Haldir deferred. "No . . . the honor has been bestowed upon me by the One. He has put me in this position. I will excel in it only to bring Him glory. And I will excel only if I have you at my side." He grinned. "So, you see, my motives are all selfish."

Ardamil returned his smile. "I will not disappoint you."

"I know that." Haldir put his arm around Ardamil's shoulders. "Come back with me. I would like to tell my brothers, and I would like you to be there."

They began walking under the brilliant sunlight, glinting of the shining grass.

"Shall I sing for you the new melody I learned this morning?" Ardamil offered.

"Certainly," Haldir replied. "I love listening to you sing, as you well know."

Ardamil began to sing, a wordless melody more beautiful than anything that had come before. Haldir felt himself slipping into a dream, floating along with the dulcet tones of the one elf he loved more than any other . . .

. . . a screeching cacophony of sound tore the song to shreds.

Haldir actually cried out in pain. The sound was agonizing, the destruction of order and beauty. Haldir clutched at his ears as the discord continued on, but the sound was not from without. It seemed to be everywhere - within and without, in his ears and in his head. Then a voice spoke, grating and mocking.

"But now Aluvatar sat and hearkened, and for a great while it seemed good to him, for in the music there were no flaws. But as the theme progressed, it came into the heart of Melkor to interweave matters of his own imaginings that were not in accord with the theme of Aluvatar; for he sought therein to increase the power and glory of the part assigned to himself. Straight away, discord arose about him, and many that sang nigh him grew despondent, and their thought was disturbed and their music faltered; but some began to attune their music to his rather than to the thought which they had at first. Then the discord of Melkor spread ever wider, and the melodies which had been heard before foundered in a sea of turbulent sound. But Aluvater sat and hearkened until it seemed that about his throne there was a raging storm, as of dark waters that made war one upon another in an endless wrath that would not be assuaged."

Haldir knew the story . . . the Ainulindale, the music of the Ainur. And he knew intrinsically the voice that was telling the tale in tones of discord and derision; and although he could not even begin to fathom how he had ended up in such a dire predicament, he could not deny that he now knew by whom he was imprisoned, and he was terrified. Against this enemy, he had no defense: only his faith, and that had been grossly weakened.

"Did you believe I had been vanquished? Not even the chains of Angainor can hold back the power of Melkor!" The voice taunted. "Foolish child of the first-born! I have been watching you for centuries. The last of the Consecrated to inhabit Middle Earth shall sing to my theme."

"No," Haldir protested, his voice frail in the face of such overwhelming power.

"Attempt to resist me. I welcome your struggles. Very well, then. What other moments of fondness reside in your memory that I might indulge myself in their destruction?"

And before Haldir could muster a single thought of his own, the search through his memories recommenced, and he could do nothing to stop it.

---

Ardamil saw the orcs approaching while they were still far off. His blood, already surging through his veins, now moved with pounding speed, heightening his senses, fueling his muscles for combat. He sent out a call of warning to the rest of the patrol, hidden in the woods, then sent a message via the same enaui that had been running all their messages, to Mythis, whose party was keeping concealed on the heels of the orcs.

The instant the orcs entered the woods, Ardamil ordered the attack, which was over almost as soon as it started. The orcs, surprisingly, had shown no stomach for battle. When an initial hail of arrows had taken down a third of their numbers, the rest fled or attempted to flee, fighting only if directly confronted, and then being easily dispatched. It was perplexing. Orcs were not normally given to such passivity, but then it occurred to Ardamil - the orcs already had accomplished their mission. Their purpose was over, and now they simply wanted to return to wherever they had come from with as little complication as possible.

And Ardamil was not inclined to waste time in destroying all of them. Once the patrol had captured a handful of the orcs, he called off the attack. It was answers he was looking for; not utter destruction.

He left the interrogation to Henschel, Enthamis, and Desmone, for they were well-suited to such activities. And he himself was so angry, so distraught that he could not trust himself not to lose control as an interrogator. So, as he waited, he sought out Mythis, from whom he had been far distant during the fighting. He did not have to go far before he saw Mythis approaching.

Ardamil was blunt. "What happened?" he demanded.

Mythis's distress was palpable, but he replied steadily, "We spotted a party of orcs that were headed in the direction of Lothlorien. Haldir took the patrol and we followed them. In the Narrower Pass, they tricked us and . . . Haldir disappeared. We were certain they had taken him . . . we found a poisoned arrow with blood on it, and we could not find Haldir. We tracked the orcs, only to discover that Haldir was not with them. I sent Peredil back to search the area again-"

"He disappeared? How could he disappear?" Ardamil asked. "He could not have just vanished."

"I-I did not mean that he had-physically disappeared," Mythis stammered. "I meant that we did not know what had happened to him. We thought the orcs-"

"Why were you not at Haldir's side?" Ardamil cut him off. "You are his first sword. You are sworn to protect him at all costs - even to the sacrificing of your own life."

"He sent me ahead," Mythis replied. "By the time I realized there was trouble, it was too late. I did what I thought best."

Before Ardamil could reply, Henschel approached. "Ardamil . . . one of the orcs has told us something incredible . . . terrible, if true."

"What is it?"

"They come from Mordor - the Lady Galadriel and Lord Celeborn have spoken of the evil building there - but . . . " Henschel paused to steady his voice. "But these orcs . . . they mentioned only one master . . . "

Ardamil's face was as stone as he attempted to conceal his fear. "Sauron? Has Sauron returned?"

"Not Sauron," Henschel replied. "The orc told us, 'Even Sauron has his master.'"

Ardamil was stunned into silence. It was Mythis who spoke the most dreaded name in Middle Earth.

"Melkor."

Henschel only nodded, fearful that any attempt to speak would bring his own terror overflowing to the surface.

"But that is impossible," Mythis protested, fear of the terrible truth creeping up his throat. "Melkor has long since been cast out into the void . . . ever since the War of Wrath!"

Ardamil continued. "But Haldir was not with the orcs. How could they deliver to Melkor what they do not possess?" He was desperate to convince himself that Haldir could not have possibly fallen into such wicked hands.

Mythis spoke again. "Lostilsil said that Haldir had become frightened while they were at the pass, that he had sensed something evil had arrived and was watching them. He was searching the skies for it."

Henschel knitted his brow. "Nazgul?"

Ardamil dismissed the possibility. "The Nine have not been heard from in centuries. They were destroyed when Sauron was destroyed."

"But the evil that grows in the east-" Mythis began.

Ardamil cut him off impatiently. "Melkor has his own demonic servants. He does not need Sauron, the Nazgul or any other."

"Then it . . . it could be true," Henschel conceded in a quiet voice. "Haldir could be a prisoner of Melkor."

Ardamil was silent in thought for a long moment. At last, he said to Henschel, "We will bring the orc who has given you the information."

"And the others?"

"Bind them and leave them here."

Henschel nodded and parted from them.

"What would Melkor want with Haldir?" Mythis asked.

Ardamil looked at Mythis and for the first time, coupled with the abject fear and horror he felt at Haldir's likely fate, he felt anger and rage towards a fellow patrol mate. It had been Mythis's responsibility to protect Haldir. Mythis had not delivered on that responsibility. "We will likely never know."

Mythis shrank beneath the icy gaze. "What do we do now?"

"We return to Caras Galadhon," Ardamil replied, then as he began to walk away, "And then you find another patrol."

"Another patrol? Ardamil-" Mythis's voice was filled with confusion and desperation.

Ardamil stopped for a moment and his reply was spoken in as neutral a voice as he could manage. "You were sworn to protect Haldir. You failed to live up to your oath, and now . . . now it is likely we will never see him again."

It was a wound that Mythis had never expected, from a quarter he never would have imagined.

---

Legolas had been wandering all day. Through the woods south of his father's forest dwelling, along unworn paths, across the heather meadows - he had much on his mind, and walking with nature brought some idea of order to his muddled thoughts. At length, he returned to the outer colonnades of the palace, and here he spotted Canhelded sitting at a table, illustrating a manuscript.

Legolas crept up silently, peered over his shoulder and no sooner had he begun to marvel at his brother's skill with ink and quill than a wave of emotion swelled up his throat, finding its culmination in the rendering of a song. Canhelded was illustrating a sheet of music - the song of Anhumat. Such a simple song had come to possess such private, intimate meaning for Legolas.

When Legolas had finished singing, Canhelded smiled. "The solitary wanderer."

"The happy wanderer," Legolas corrected, sitting beside him.

"That remains to be seen," Canhelded said, then adding earnestly, "Although I am sure it will be so." He regarded Legolas with delving eyes. "You have not told father yet."

Legolas lowered his eyes. "Not yet."

"I can not imagine that he would object," Canhelded opined. "Going out into the world will be a good thing for you. It will give you a greater appreciation not only for what is out there, but for what you have here."

Legolas grinned. "Are you sure you do not want to present my case for me?"

"You will need no help." A pause. "Tell me . . . where will you go?"

"Wherever the wind calls me - like Anhumat," Legolas replied with a brilliant glow in his eye. "Wherever the voices of the trees and the woodland creatures and the hedgerow dwellers lead me. I am willing to follow. I am ready to follow."

Canhelded nodded vaguely. "Is there not another voice that you long to hear?"

Legolas could not hide the shadow of sadness that had crept into his face. "That was many centuries ago."

"That is true," Canhelded agreed. "And will you not answer my question?"

"I do not wish to revive those memories, dear brother. I have held fast to Lord Elrond's advice. The best thing I could do for Haldir, I have done," Legolas replied, but he sounded anything but convinced of his own words.

"What are you hoping to find on your journey, Legolas?" Canhelded asked.

Legolas was silent, and his brother persisted. "Is there a truth that drives you out on your sojourn. Is there a fear? A doubt?"

At last, Legolas spoke slowly. "I do not know what I am searching for. I have not yet opened the door onto my reasons. I only wish to see as much of the world as I can. "

Canhelded showed brotherly concern. "And who will comfort you as you tramp these distant lands? Who will answer your songs and cheer you when you are sad?"

A smile spread over Legolas's face. "I will tell you who. My dearest brothers and my loving father, who reside in here," he replied, placing his hand over his heart. "I carry all of you with me, always."

Canhelded put his arm around Legolas's shoulders. "You speak so eloquently."

"My eloquence makes it no less true."

"Will your road lead you to Lothlorien?" Canhelded asked.

Legolas raised his eyes to behold Canhelded's compassionate gaze. "I can not entirely discount it, but it is not my intention."

Canhelded inclined his head in a mixture of consternation and affection. "Legolas, brother, do you not wonder at all about him?"

Legolas got up and walked to the railing, where he stood overlooking the southern forests where he had walked earlier that day. "He is in my thoughts daily, and not of my own will." He hesitated and took a deep breath. "I dreamt of him last night. It was . . . disturbing. I dreamt he was calling out, but I couldn't hear what he was saying. I didn't know who he was calling to. I could only feel an indistinct fear. I imagined that it must have been the fear he felt that day in the cave . . . oh, if I could, I would banish him from my mind-"

"Say not such a thing," Canhelded chastised, joining him at the railing. He turned his younger brother to face him. "Your acquaintance with him has been a great blessing."

"And a great curse," Legolas said. "I have injured him and myself, and I have done all I could to undo that hurt and sorrow. And yet . . . " His gaze grew distant and visionary. " I want him to live in me. I want to carry some part of him in my soul. Perhaps . . . perhaps that's why I want to go out into the world. Haldir was always out in the world. He loved Middle Earth. He loved to see distant lands and experience different peoples. He engendered that fire in me. I have let it wane over the years. I am ready to rekindle it."

Canhelded nodded slowly and resolutely. "Then it is time. Let us go see father. You must not delay any longer."

Legolas squeezed his brother's hand. "You give me confidence."

"No . . . I only strengthen that which already abides in you. Come, we will have you underway before the sun sets tomorrow."

---

Adramil stood before Lord Celeborn and Lady Galadriel. The atmosphere in the Great Hall was grim as the Guardian gave his report. When he had finished, there followed a long silence as the implications of what had happened took root amid somber countenances.

At last, Celeborn spoke. "It is your belief that Haldir has fallen into Melkor's hands?"

"Yes, my lord," Ardamil replied.

Another deep quiet. Again, it was Celeborn who spoke. "Then he is beyond our help."

Ardamil stiffened. "Beyond our help? My Lord, I do not-I do not understand what you are saying."

Galadriel answered. "I have not been able to see him in the mirror. He is hidden from us."

"Then I will go look for him," Ardamil volunteered.

"No," Celeborn said, shaking his head slowly, resolutely. "Such a venture would be bring nothing but despair. Your place is here, at the head of the patrol which you have served as Haldir's subaltern."

"But my Lord-" Ardamil's voice was passionate.

"Ardamil," Galadriel began, stepping down from the dais and placing a cool, soothing hand against his cheek. "If there were any hope of recovering him, we would grant your wish. We would send legions out to save him. But he is not to be found in Middle Earth. The only one who had any power against such an enemy was Haldir himself. Not even I or my Lord or Gandalf or all the powers of wizardry can combat the prince of evil doing. If Haldir is in his hands, which I believe he must be, then it will be up to Haldir to resist him."

"We do not know for certain that it was the work of Melkor," Ardamil pressed.

Here, Galadriel's expression grew even more grave and compassionate. "There is little doubt. If he were in any other's clutch, I would be able to see him."

Celeborn stepped forward. "There may yet be hope. A sign may still be given, but until then, we can not go dangerously into the world in search of him."

Ardamil held his tongue. He did not care what the lord and lady said. Haldir was his first priority, and it was pointless to argue a command he had no intention of obeying. He gave a curt nod of acknowledgment.

"Go, return to the patrol. They will need you now," Galadriel said gently.

Ardamil looked into her eyes. "The one they need is gone," he said, then turned and left the hall.

Once Ardamil had gone, Celeborn drew a deep breath. "We have not just lost a captain of the Galadhrim; we have lost one of the preservers of our peace."

"The darkness had already started to fall," Galadriel replied. "Now, everything will move faster. Great evil is upon us."

Celeborn walked across the flet to a window overlooking the city. "And if Melkor is able to reach out from beyond this world, who can stop the descent into chaos? If he turns Haldir to his own ends, there will be great havoc . . . and he will destroy Haldir in the process."

"There is a reason Melkor has waited until now to take Haldir," Galadriel said slowly. "The world is changed. I feel it in the water. I feel it in the earth. I smell it in the air. Much that once was is lost, for none now live who remember it. If such were still alive, perhaps they could offer some insight into what has happened, but for my own part, I can not see Melkor's purpose. The ring is moving, but Melkor has no need of it. It is only of use to Sauron. And even in captivity, Melkor's power is immeasurably greater than Sauron's. And what has Haldir to do with any aspect of the one ring? As the last servant of Aluvater in Middle Earth, Haldir would be a great prize in Melkor's hands. But would that be reason enough to take him?"

"The prayers," Celeborn stated bluntly. "Melkor will attempt to pervert the prayers, just as he perverted the music of the Ainuindale. He will turn Haldir into an instrument of destruction."

Galadriel eased her hand into her husband's. "And we are powerless to stop it."

"Only Haldir can resist such an evil, and then only with the help of Aluvater. And he has been weakened," Celeborn replied, and his voice did not have the hope that Galadriel had desired to hear.

"You do not think he can resist," she stated.

"I do not hold out much hope of it," Celeborn admitted. "I hope I am wrong."

Galadriel's voice was ghostly. "As do I."

---

Ardamil did not return to the patrol's talans, even though he knew the rest of the patrol was waiting for him. He had not the courage nor the heart to see them at the moment. His mind was in turmoil, fear beating down rage and then being subdued by sorrow. Never before had he been in such agony, so confused, and without any clear direction before him. He headed to the only place where he hoped solace might await him. If nothing else, he would have solitude and a chance to let his grief come to the surface.

Haldir's home. Here he had known great joy. Here he had known peace, and here he hoped to find it again in the midst of strife. But as he passed through the doorway into the holy room, he felt only coldness, emptiness. He normally would have walked straight through the room, not being as spiritually or religiously adept as Haldir, but this time he stopped in the middle. He looked at the statue at the head of the room. In the shadows, the image was mysterious and fearsome, and yet never had Ardamil felt as compelled to make an appeal. He took slow, measured steps towards the statue, wondering what words he could use. What words were worthy of the One?

But when the words came, they were from so deep within that Ardamil could not have said anything else.

"Please . . . bring him back. I beg you . . . bring him back." He felt the tears rising in his eyes. "I know I am of no account. I have no right to ask you for anything. But Haldir loves you. You are his life, and I don't . . . I don't understand why you've allowed this. He's borne all the suffering you've put him through. And despite all the fear, he has never stopped being devoted to you. And only you can save him. You have the power, you are the One. Please, I would do anything."

He stood by silently, then dropped to his knees and clasped his hands in front of him. Then he began an awkward offering of the few prayers he knew, going strictly from the memory of hearing Haldir recite them thousands of times over the centuries. He had not made it even through the first one before he broke into sobs.

For many hours, he remained there on the floor, unmoving, growing numb as the reality of Haldir's disappearance took firmer root in his mind. At length, he moved to the inner talan and sunk down onto one of the chairs. And here he stayed until a voice from the doorway drew his attention.

"Ardamil?"

Ardamil looked up to see Maynfeln and Lostilsil standing just inside the door. He acknowledged them with a glance but said nothing.

The two guardians approached him cautiously and sat down on either side of him.

Maynfeln spoke first. "We've been looking for you. The entire patrol is concerned."

"I needed to be alone," Ardamil replied dully.

"Do you wish us to leave?" Lostilsil asked.

"No, no, your presence is welcome. It is a comfort. I have been alone long enough."

Lostilsil went on, "When you didn't return to the talan, we feared the worst."

Ardamil's voice wavered. "The worst? What could be worse than what has happened?"

"We feared you had left," Maynfeln replied., "That you had gone to look for Haldir."

Ardamil turned his haunted gaze to face the healer directly. "I still may."

Maynfeln spoke with sincerity. "You would not go alone."

"I would ask no on else to come with me," Ardamil replied.

"You would not have to ask." Maynfeln was very serious. "We would all go to the ends of the earth to recover Haldir."

Suddenly, Ardamil's eyes widened as he was struck with a realization. "Where are Rumil and Orophin?"

"They are in the patrol's talans. They did not want to be alone, and I did not think it wise to leave them alone," Maynfeln replied.

"They must be suffering dreadfully," Ardamil fretted, feeling a pang of guilt at his own self-involvement.

"They are inconsolable," Lostilsil answered. "Orophin says not a word. Rumil says he will go search for Haldir and will not stop until he finds him."

Ardamil was trembling. "But is he to be found? Or will a search be only an exercise in futility and anguish?"

"We can not know," Maynfeln replied. "Our hopes are all we have."

"Our hopes . . . our hopes . . . "Ardamil leaned forward and put his face in his hands. "I had so much faith when Haldir was here . . . even after he was attacked by those men. He was here - a wounded soul, but he was here, and we could see him and touch him and hear him. But now I feel as if-as if my own soul has been shorn from my body. I would rather see him taken to the Halls of Mandos than live with this uncertainty. Where is he and what is happening to him?"

Maynfeln and Lostilsil were quiet for several seconds, then Lostilsil spoke in a low, grave voice. "If you go, do not leave us behind."

"I give you my word," Ardamil replied.

Maynfeln leaned forward and regarded him intently. "I would feel much better if someone were to stay here with you."

"You may stay," Ardamil replied. "I would be glad of your company."

"Lostilsil will stay. I have another search to undertake," Maynfeln said, drawing back. Then seeing Ardamil's curious expression, he did his best to muster control over his distress as he spoke. "Mythis has not been seen since the return to Caras Galadhon."

Ardamil's feelings were in a tumult at this announcement. His anger at Mythis was unabated, and his response reflected his state of mind. "Perhaps his guilt has driven him out."

Maynfeln and Lostilsil exchanged sad glances over the subaltern's head.

"You may be right. We could not coax a word from him the entire way back," Maynfeln stated. "The light had gone out in his eyes."

Ardamil drew in a deep breath. "He failed in his task as First Sword. It is expected that he would feel that failure most keenly."

Maynfeln knit his brows together. "You blame him for the loss of Haldir?"

"I don't know," Ardamil groaned. "He was sworn to protect him, to give his life for him if necessary. He was negligent."

"He did as Haldir ordered," Lostilsil interjected. "He would never disobey Haldir. The captain sent him on ahead, and he followed orders."

Ardamil was silent.

Maynfeln got to his feet. "Do not let your misery blind you to the example Haldir set for us over all these centuries. He would never permit anger or hurt or sadness to drive him to hate that which he loved. And he loved Mythis. So do you." With that, he strode to the doorway, leaving Lostilsil to look after Ardamil.

---

"Are you quite sure about this, Nikerym?" Ardamil asked, sounding unconvinced.

Haldir's somewhat whimsical smile was accompanied by a reassurance. "Absolutely."

"But he is so . . . impetuous," Ardamil persisted. "He will require much discipline to mold him into the kind of warrior that belongs in the patrol."

Haldir did not reply right away. His gaze was still fixed on the beautiful fluidity of the elf whose display of sword work was the center of attention that afternoon in the clearing near the Anduin. At last, he said slowly, "And do you not anticipate disciplining him?"

Ardamil almost laughed. "I dread the thought."

"Why is that?"

"Because he is far too fair to contend with," Ardamil replied. "How is an elf expected to be stern with him when he can turn heads by his very presence?"

Haldir nodded a mild concession. "He is beautiful."

"That is paltry praise," Ardamil said. "He is the most beautiful elf I have ever laid eyes on."

"Indeed, he is."

Ardamil was flustered. Haldir could be so difficult. "Would he not be more suitable perhaps after a few more decades or even centuries with Thlayrah's patrol? He will have grown more mellow-"

"Uh!" Haldir made a sound of disgust. "Do I want 'mellow' warriors? You are not so refined, yourself, Ardamil - and I hope you never become so. Look at him. He fights in a way I have never seen before - it is a love of the sword."

"The choice is yours, Nikerym," Ardamil said at last. "We speak of your First Sword; you must feel confident in your decision."

Haldir nodded slightly, noticing the approach of Nikerym Thlayrah.

"Have you come to lure away yet another of my warriors?" Thlayrah asked good-naturedly, drawing up to stand in front of Haldir.

"It is a compliment to your abilities as a leader, dearest Nikerym Thlayrah. You produce the best warriors," Haldir replied.

"And now you turn your eye to Mythis," Thlayrah went on.

"He is a brilliant swordsman," Haldir admitted.

"He is brilliant in all forms of combat," Thlayrah acknowledged. "But the sword is his strongest point."

"But my subaltern fears that he may be too much to handle," Haldir added with a grin.

Thlayrah inclined his head in a gesture of considered agreement. "Mythis is inquisitive, full of vigor and . . . energy. From time to time, you may find your hands full with him." A fond smile graced his features. "But he is one of the greatest joys I have known in all my long life. His zeal is unquenchable. He learned faster than I could teach. His heart is simple." A pause filled with deep silence that bespoke a certain sadness on Thlayrah's part. "He is everything you would want in a warrior, Haldir. And I already know that it is his desire to catch your eye and be taken under your wing. Surely you have noticed it, as well."

Haldir could sense Thlayrah's melancholy. "I will not take him, if he means that much to you, Nikerym."

Thlayrah mustered a forlorn but genuine smile. "It is precisely because he does mean that much to me that you must take him. Only-only take care of him, Haldir. He wants you to believe he has experienced the world . . . but he is pure innocence. His charm is a dangerous thing." He then looked to Ardamil. "You possess a more level head than your captain, Ardamil. Do not let him be carried away by his new charge."

Ardamil smiled. "I will do my best, Nikerym Thlayrah; but you know Haldir."

"I do," Thlayrah replied with a sparkle in his eye, then he addressed Haldir again. "Shall I call him over?"

Haldir nodded. "Yes."

Thlayrah called out to Mythis, who disengaged himself from the exercises and came trotting across the clearing, lithe as a deer, blatant excitement and anticipation beaming from his face. As he drew up in front of them, Haldir marveled at how absolutely stunning Mythis was. Unlike the rest of the Lorien elves, Mythis was dark-haired and olive-skinned. He had Noldor blood in him, going back generations. But despite the sharpness and clarity of his features, there was an overriding gentleness in his appearance. Haldir recognized it as the innocence of which Thlayrah had spoken, and although Haldir had always been aware of Mythis's age, he now realized, for the first time, that he was looking at an elf barely out of childhood. But that did nothing to deter him. Mythis was the only elf Haldir would even consider as First Sword: lethal, enthusiastic, and pliable.

"Yes, Nikerym?"

Thlayrah put a hand on Mythis's shoulder. There was a certain pain in the action, which did not go unnoticed by Haldir. Mythis's departure was hitting Thlayrah hard, but he would not turn down Haldir's request . . . or Mythis's desire.

"You are about to be offered one of the greatest posts among the Guardians," Thlayrah said. "Nikerym Haldir has requested you for his First Sword."

Child-like, Mythis burst into brilliant, joyful laughter. "This was what I was hoping for!! Only I never thought it would come true!"

"Compose yourself, Mythis," Thlayrah chastised with no hint of disdain.

Mythis drew in a deep breath, but he was alive with excitement.

"You accept, then?" Haldir asked.

"I do, Nikerym Haldir. This is the greatest honor I could ever imagine," Mythis replied. "I have dreamt of this since coming to Lorien."

Haldir smiled. "Then I expect you will do an excellent job."

"I shall, indeed."

Thlayrah spoke, and although he tried to sound casual, his voice was subdued. "Then I turn him over to you, Haldir. He is now your warrior." He pat Mythis on the back, then turned and walked back to the rest of his patrol, still training.

It was only then, as Thlayrah moved away, that Mythis suddenly seemed to realize the loss that his gain entailed. In an instant, his joyful mood lessened as he stared after his captain's retreat. Haldir and Ardamil both saw the uncertainty and distress that had seeped into Mythis's manner.

"Are you sure you want to accept the position?" Haldir asked kindly.

Mythis turned back to Haldir, but his attention was divided. "Yes, I am sure. I am very sure. I-I only-I feel like I am abandoning Nikerym Thlayrah. And he has been so good to me."

"Ardamil and I have both felt the same sentiment," Haldir replied. "We both came from Thlayrah's patrol, as you well know. We understand how you feel." But looking at Mythis's face, Haldir suspected that perhaps he and Ardamil did not fully comprehend Mythis's attachment to Thlayrah. There was something in his countenance that spoke of an affection that went beyond that of a captain and his soldier. But it was not Haldir's place to inquire. He knew only that Mythis was the unexpected companion who had one day returned with Thlayrah from some journey to the north. No reason was ever given or even asked for: it had always been assumed there was some familial or historical relation between them. Thlayrah treated Mythis like his own child, and Mythis gave all appearances of accepting Thlayrah as his parent.

"I must thank him," Mythis said, his words clearly not expressing the fullness of his thoughts.

"Yes, you must. And you must do it properly," Haldir agreed. "Parting with you was not easy for him."

Mythis only nodded.

"Report to the Wide Patrol's talans tomorrow evening," Haldir instructed, deciding that would give Mythis enough time to gather his belongings and take care of any parting words that he had for his former patrol mates.

"Yes, Nikerym," Mythis replied.

As Haldir turned to leave, Ardamil squeezed Mythis's shoulder. "Congratulations and welcome."

Mythis returned his words with a nervous smile.

---

"What distresses you, Haldir?"

Haldir glanced up to see Ardamil peering his head into the nest.

"Why do you say I am distressed?" Haldir replied with his own question.

"You have been up here all afternoon, ever since we returned from Thlayrah's patrol," Ardamil explained. "I know you well enough to see when something weighs heavily upon your mind." He sat down beside him. "What is it?"

Haldir drew in a deep, thoughtful breath. "I am feeling guilty."

Ardamil could not suppress a smile. "You? Feeling guilty?"

"Is that so incredible?" Haldir challenged.

"I have never known you to feel guilty before, so . . . yes, it is incredible," Ardamil replied. "But what cause have you to feel guilty?"

"Did you not see how painful it was for Thlayrah to part with Mythis?" Haldir asked.

"I did see it, yes," Ardamil nodded. "And I also saw that Mythis had not considered the consequences of his greatest dream. Are you having second thoughts, Haldir?"

Haldir did not answer right away, which worried Ardamil.

"Haldir, you can not take back your offer," he insisted. "That would be more devastating than any unhappiness either of them feel right now."

"I would feel better knowing that Thlayrah is truly agreeable to this," Haldir said softly. "You know how deeply I respect him."

"Go talk to him," Ardamil suggested. "In a sense, he is still your captain. You have never ceased to defer to him."

Haldir grinned cheekily. "And you have?"

"I defer to you first," Ardamil replied. "And we are not talking about me. You are the one who was set on Mythis. You are the one who is feeling guilty. You are the one who must deal with this as you see fit."

"You are right," Haldir conceded, standing up. "I will go see him this evening."

"You are not-you are not considering withdrawing your offer, are you?" Ardamil asked.

Haldir crossed his arms and cocked his head to one side. "Now, this is peculiar. You were the one who was not sure about bringing Mythis into the patrol. Have you changed your mind?"

"My objections to Mythis were based on his maturity, nothing more," Ardamil replied. "Your objections are based on feelings."

"That is not what I asked," Haldir pointed out. "I asked if you had changed your mind."

Ardamil stood. "I saw how much Mythis wants this. And I saw something else . . . I saw how much he wants you. He would never fail you, Haldir."

Haldir gave a one-sided smile. "You are so clear-sighted and honest."

Ardamil accepted the compliment gracefully. "Go, then. Speak to Thlayrah. You will not be able to rest until you do."

---

Thlayrah lived on the outskirts of Caras Galadhon. His talan was in the mid-levels of the trees - a simple, rustic place that suited his straight-forward personality.

As Haldir moved across the high bridges and causeways, drawing ever nearer to the dwelling, he recalled numerous nights of joy spent in the company of his former captain. Thlayrah had been an indulgent leader, building bonds of loyalty and friendship with his warriors through much personal interaction. It was a lesson Haldir had learned only partly, or it might be more accurate to say that he had learned it to the extent that was possible. For while Haldir was warm and inviting on duty, he tended to remain somewhat distant during his off-time. An occasional trip to the fountain was always followed by hours of solitude. Haldir found his greatest peace, his greatest joy in his moments of silent contemplation of the One. Still, he was not a loner, and as he approached Thlayrah's talan, his thoughts were filled with pleasant memories of song and drink and brotherly camaraderie.

He drew near the talan from an overhead route of hung plank bridges and rope strands, but when he came to the final bridge, he stopped. Below him, Mythis stood at the doorway to Thlayrah's home, and an instant later, the door opened to reveal Thlayrah himself.

"Mythis? What are you doing here? I would have thought you would be joyfully packing your belongings for relocation to the Wide Patrol's talans," Thlayrah said, his face kind, his voice patronly.

A troubled expression came over Mythis's idyllic features. "Nikerym . . . are you . . . are you not angry with me?"

"Angry? Why would you say that?"

Mythis did not answer. He seemed to waver on the edge of a response for several seconds before throwing himself into Thlayrah's surprised embrace.

But the surprise was short-lived, replaced by a sad, knowing grin. "All choices involve some kind of loss, Mythis," he said gently. "But I will never be too far away."

Mythis spoke tearfully into his shoulder. "But I-I owe everything to you. I do not want to leave you."

Thlayrah eased Mythis away a bit and raised his head with a finger under his chin. "Haldir will care for you just I do - even more, it is likely."

"That is impossible," Mythis protested, but Thlayrah shushed him with a look.

"You do not know Haldir yet," he said. "But believe me, Mythis, there will come a time when you will be ready to sacrifice all for the life of your captain. He will become what matters most to you. You will not fight for honor, glory, justice, freedom, preservation; you will fight for him, for his protection, and you will do it out of love." He took Mythis's face in his hands. "Right now, you want the honor, the prestige . . . and you want him to love you. But you do not know him yet. You will discover, Mythis, that the flourishing of your own love for him will become of greater importance than your desire to be loved. He will take precedence over all other concerns and desires. That is the way it is with Haldir and with the Wide Patrol under his command."

"But I-I already feel that way with you, Nikerym Thlayrah," Mythis insisted.

But Thlayrah only smiled indulgently. "You have not even begun to experience that of which I speak."

Mythis's eyes searched Thlayrah's face for some sign of greater reassurance. "You will not forget me, will you, Nikerym?"

"That is a foolish question, for who could forget you, Mythis?" Thlayrah replied, then added, "But do not forget, child . . . we shall still see each other often. And when you need the love of a parent, you will always be welcome. My door is always open to you." He fixed Mythis with a serious gaze. "But starting now, your loyalty must begin to shift. And so it shall. And so it shall, until he will become the center of all your concern. You will shortly be bound to his protection . . . by oath and then by love. You will bring me most credit by fulfilling that charge to the best of your abilities. And your abilities are second-to-none, Mythis."

From his hiding place, Haldir looked on in amazement. He'd had no idea of how highly Thlayrah had thought of Mythis, no idea how much Thlayrah had meant to Mythis, and absolutely no idea just how much of a child Mythis still was. Ardamil had been right. While Mythis was physically several decades into adulthood, mentally and emotionally, he appeared little more than a child, leaving home for the first time. While Haldir was not sure of the extent of Thlayrah's "parentage" of Mythis, he was becoming certain of one thing: he would not betray Thlayrah's confidence in him. He would take Mythis under wing; he would ensure Thalyrah's trust in him was not compromised.

And now, as he watched Mythis, full of tears, on Thlayrah's doorstep, he realized that the most beautiful elf he had ever laid eyes on, the elf whose cheerful demeanor could only be a gift of the Valar, had never viewed his beauty or his wits as guaranteers of acceptance. Mythis's next words were proof of that. He was still looking into Thlayrah's benevolent gaze, and yet he could not suppress the need to ask the only question that mattered to him.

"Do you love me, Nikerym?"

Thlayrah's expression grew even softer. "Need you ask me that?"

"I-I would like to hear it," Mythis replied. "It has been a long time since anyone has said it to me."

Fresh pain broke over Thlayrah's face, and he enfolded Mythis in his arms. "Oh, Mythis, of course, I love you."

Haldir was dumbfounded. What sort of history did Mythis possess that could produce such a sad statement? Haldir had not even given a moment's thought to Mythis's background, but now he wondered.

Thlayrah was still talking. "I love you so much that I want to see you go with Haldir, because I know that is where you truly belong. And then you will never have to wonder-" his voice caught for moment, "-if you are loved."

Haldir saw Mythis's face against Thlayrah's shoulder. Serenity had settled on the tear-streaked cheeks. It was an incredible sight of such overwhelming splendor-

--and suddenly his eyes burned from the image. The pain returned, the discord, the tearing of something honest and beautiful into pieces, the agony of a fond memory ravaged and violated.

And then Haldir was thrust back into the darkness. "Stop it, please!" he cried out, clawing desperately at the nothingness around him. But there was nothing physical against which he could fight. He had no strength or power that could combat such an enemy. He could only plead, yet there came no answer - only a horrid sense of pleasure: pleasure in the pain being inflicted.

---

'Haldir loved Mythis. So do you.'

Maynfeln's words echoed repeatedly through Ardamil's head as he climbed down from Haldir's talan. The healer had been right - on both accounts. Haldir did, indeed, love Mythis - almost as if Mythis were his own child. And Ardamil could not deny that the young, impetuous first sword had always been one of his own favorites. In the horror of discovering Haldir's disappearance, Ardamil had forgotten just how much he truly loved Mythis. He had let his fear and anger drive out all other considerations, including compassion and understanding. He had hurt Mythis even beyond the pain inflicted by Haldir's disappearance, and now he did not know how to make it right.

He went to Mythis's favorite spots but to no avail. He had one last place to check. If he met with no luck there, then it could only mean Mythis had left the city.

He came to Thlayrah's talan and knocked on the door.

His former captain opened the door and a knowing look settled on his features.

"Ardamil."

"Thlayrah . . . have you seen Mythis?" Ardamil asked, trying not to sound as desperate as he felt.

Thlayrah stepped aside and swept Ardamil into the talan. He guided him to a sheer on the far end and parting it, inviting Ardamil to look through.

Inside, Mythis lay asleep on the only bed in the room.

Ardamil's relief was audible and visible. "Elbereth be praised. I was afraid he had gone," he said in a near-whisper.

"He was going to."

Ardamil moaned and a pained expression crossed his face. "I was very bad to him, Thlayrah."

Thlayrah placed a hand on Ardamil's back. "Come, you are overwrought. Sit down." He led him to a seat, poured a glass of sweet nectar and gave it to him, then he sat down beside him.

"I hurt him," Ardamil, taking the glass but showing no interest in drinking. "In my fear and confusion, I said some terrible things to him that I did not mean."

"He told me what happened," Thlayrah said. "Haldir's disappearance is a fearful thing, `and now I see that you both compound your sufferings out of fear that you have lost each other."

"Mythis has not lost me," Ardamil insisted.

"He needs to know that. Stay until he wakes up," Thlayrah replied.

Ardamil nodded minutely. "I will stay." He took a sip of the nectar and attempted to portray a steady countenance.

But Thlayrah was not fooled. He regarded him, seeing the struggle that was going on inside him, and he knew intrinsically what Ardamil was contemplating. He needed to draw it out.

"You are now in charge of the patrol," he said.

Ardamil's voice was a whisper. "Yes." A pause. "But not for long."

"Oh?"

Ardamil raised his eyes to face his former captain. "I can not stay here. I must try to find him."

This, Thlayrah knew, had been Ardamil's design from the beginning. "Where will you look?" he asked.

"Everywhere, if I must. I will go first to Mordor, then Angband," came the determined reply.

"If it really was Melkor that abducted Haldir, you will not find him in Mordor - or anywhere else in Middle Earth. He is not within reach of the sphere," Thlayrah said. "You will be forever searching and never finding."

"I can not simply stand by and not even try to find him," Ardamil protested warmly.

"Then you will leave the patrol?"

"They can go with me. They would not hesitate," Ardamil replied.

"That is true." Thlayrah's voice was thoughtful. "So, you would leave Lothlorien undefended?"

"Thlayrah, we are only 24-"

"Twenty-four of Lorien's finest."

"Then I will go alone!" Ardamil burst out, exasperated.

Thlayrah frowned. "And leave them when they need you most. It is their loss, as well, Ardamil. They suffer, too. They need your guidance, your counsel and comfort, your steadiness. You would be selfish to leave them now. And you know well that Haldir would not approve."

Thlayrah had never ceased to be a father figure to his warriors, past and present. He was no-nonsense and direct. He tolerated little in the way of foolishness, even foolishness brought on by grief. And Ardamil was not sure, at that moment, if he appreciated those qualities or not.

"Surely, you feel this as deeply as I do," Ardamil proposed. "How is it you can not understand?"

Thlayrah's eyes softened a degree. "No, Ardamil, I do not feel it as deeply as you do. No one could. Your relationship with Haldir is something no one else could comprehend."

Ardamil lowered his eyes and spoke in a trembling voice. "I can not bear to be separated from him, Thlayrah."

"If it is Aluvater's will, Haldir will be returned to us. If it is not His will, nothing will alter that. Haldir lived by His will. So must you." He paused and nodded towards the shear. "Go inside. What you can not do for Haldir, you can still do for Mythis."

Ardamil drew in a deep breath and got to his feet. "You have always been the voice of reason, Nikerym," he said, then he went into the sleeping room and sat in a chair near the window. The sight of Mythis ignited the memory of how he had treated him, and this was too distressing to entertain. So, Ardamil spent most of the evening staring out the window, yet here he was unable to draw any comfort from views that he loved, feeling nothing but a growing emptiness, an increasing uneasiness. Nothing could diffuse the pain.

It wasn't until long after nightfall that the sound of Mythis stirring drew his attention away from the window.

Ardamil moved over to sit on the side of the bed. When, at length, Mythis opened his eyes, Ardamil was not surprised to see the wariness and anxiety displayed there.

Mythis sat up slowly. He was trembling and did not speak.

Seeing this, Ardamil's guilt was overwhelming. He reached out and pulled Mythis into a powerful embrace. "I am so sorry, Mythis. I am so sorry."

Mythis clung to him in a manner that Ardamil would not have imagined possible.

"Please don't send me away," he sobbed. "Please don't make me go."

"I'm not going to send you away," Ardamil assured him. "I didn't mean any of those things I said, Mythis. I was upset and frightened. I acted badly. I am terribly sorry. Please forgive me."

"I didn't mean for it to happen," Mythis insisted desperately. "He-he is gone because of me, and now I am to lose everything else-"

"Mythis, stop," Ardamil insisted, holding him tighter. "It was not your fault, and I am not going to send you away. You will not lose me, but you must promise me that I will not lose you."

At these words, Mythis drew back and looked at Ardamil with puzzled, glistening eyes. "Lose me?"

"You must promise not to leave, not to go off on your own," Ardamil replied. He looked him deeply in the eye. "And you must not fall into despair."

Mythis stared back at him, equaling his intensity. "I promise. I will not leave - not unless you go. Then I will go with you."

"That decision is still before us. We will discuss it with the rest of the patrol. But whatever the decision, I need you with me, Mythis. We all need you. What Haldir saw in you, so do I."

Mythis lowered his eyes.

But Ardamil was not dissuaded. He stood up and reached out his hand. "Come with me to the patrol's talans. We have much to discuss."

---

The entire wide patrol was gathered in its talans. The atmosphere was morose as Ardamil and Mythis arrived. No one approached them but rather regarded them from countenances made so melancholy by grief that Ardamil determined, at that moment, that he would never leave them. He berated himself for even considering it. How desperately they needed him. To leave them now would be to betray Haldir, for after Aluvater, the patrol had been Haldir's primary devotion, the most important thing in his life. Ardamil could not leave them to founder, leaderless, in the wake of such a terrible loss.

His gaze scanned from elf to elf, settling at last on the figure of Orophin, lying asleep beside Ascalonn.

Ardamil walked slowly across the talan. Maynfeln met him half way. No words passed, only a pressing of temple to temple. The exchange of sentiments was so powerful, it was palpable even to the rest of the patrol.

As they drew back, Maynfeln whispered, "You found Mythis."

"Elbereth be praised," Ardamil replied.

At that, Maynfeln went to greet Mythis as Ardamil moved over to Orophin and Ascalonn. He placed a gentle hand on Orophin's arm. "How is he?"

"Maynfeln gave him something to put him to sleep. He was wild with grief," Ascalonn replied.

Ardamil sighed. "He has always felt every emotion to its greatest intensity." He felt another pang of guilt at his self-centered disregard for how the rest of the patrol must have been suffering, especially Haldir's brothers. To see Orophin rendered unconscious as the only way to elude the agony of the circumstances drove the point home. And now, seeing the impact Haldir's disappearance was having on the members of the patrol, he was forced to concede that this present dilemma was far worse than anything they had encountered before.

He moved over to where Rumil sat and reached out to grasp his shoulder.

Rumil raised his eyes and met Ardamil's gaze. Ardamil sat down beside him. The two regarded each other for a long silence.

At last, Rumil spoke. "He is lost to us."

"We must not give up hope," Ardamil replied.

"What hope is there?" Rumil asked. "The Lady Galadriel can not see him. Orophin and I are not able to feel anything from him. He is removed to where we can not go. He is beyond our reach, beyond our help."

Ardamil drew him close. "We have no help to offer that would be of any use in this battle. Haldir alone is equipped to fight this enemy. We must have faith that the One will protect and sustain him."

"Aluvater did not protect him from being captured," Rumil countered. "Whatever His will is, I can not reconcile myself to it."

Across the talan, Mythis watched the two of them, and he felt as if the entire situation were his doing, that the rest of the patrol were looking at him and silently blaming him. When Rumil looked up over Ardamil's shoulder and his eyes met Mythis's, the latter looked away uncomfortably.

The sight of this gave Rumil an infusion of strength. He crossed to where Mythis stood alone, looking out of place and petrified. He hesitated as Mythis glanced up, their gazes meeting in a moment of forgiveness, then he took gentle but firm hold of Mythis's arms.

"You must not blame yourself, Mythis," Rumil whispered. "It was not your fault. I was there. I know the truth of the matter. "

Mythis could barely form the words. "I am sorry, Rumil. I wanted to protect him, but I could not."

"You did as Haldir ordered," Rumil said assuredly. "All that is in the past now. We must look at the present, and we must all stay together."

"I will do everything in my power to help recover him," Mythis replied.

Ardamil's voice rose authoritatively. "That is what we must talk about. There is much to discuss, and we are faced with difficult decisions." A pause. "We can not know with certainty what has happened to Haldir. The Lady Galadriel can not see him in the mirror. I can not sense him. Is there any here who can?" When he received no reply, he went on, "It is the opinion of the Lord and Lady - and mine, as well - that Haldir is a prisoner of Melkor. That is the only way he could be so removed from our knowledge."

"If that is true, what can we do?" Ascalonn asked.

"That is the question," Ardamil replied. "The lord and lady say that he is beyond our help. If Melkor has him, he is removed from Middle Earth, and we have no way to find him."

"But we must try!" Peredil insisted. "We can not simply give up!"

"If he is not to be found, then any search will be fruitless and only lead to despair. And as was recently pointed out to me, Haldir would be furious at the idea that we would leave Lothlorien unprotected to go search for him," Ardamil replied. "But the decision does not rest with me. There are only two who can make the choice." He looked to Rumil. "You and Orophin are his brothers. Yours are the only voices that matter."

Rumil stood still and silent, his eyes sweeping over to take in Orophin, still sleeping.

"I dare not speak for Orophin," he said slowly. "But for my own part, I-I can not see which way to go. I should trust the word of the lord and lady. I should trust my own senses. But I do not want to give up without even trying."

Maynfeln spoke up. "Where would we look?"

"Is there no conduit, no pathway from this world to that of Melkor?" Desmone asked.

"Not that is open to us," Ardamil replied.

"We must not search for him." Orophin's voice surprised everyone. He was sitting up slowly, every trace of past gaiety gone from him. "We will not find him, and he would not want us to leave Lothlorien. His abduction is the harbinger of greater evils to come. He was sworn to protect the realm, and we must continue to do so in his absence. The only other thing we can do for him is pray." He paused as Rumil joined him. "I will not go searching for him. I carry him in my soul. Only there will I find him."

Rumil nodded his understanding. "You speak the truth - the truth that I was afraid to face." He put his arms around Orophin , held him closely and whispered, "You know his heart better than any of us."

Lostilsil spoke up. "Should we send out word of Haldir's disappearance? The wilderness may have knowledge of him."

It was Ardamil who replied. "If they have knowledge, they will find a way to get it here. But in the meantime, I think it best not to make the situation well known. There are other forces of evil that would be on the move if they knew Haldir was gone."

"What of Legolas?"

The question, from Mythis, was unexpected and merited a stunned silence.

Ardamil groaned inwardly. Legolas had not even entered his mind. At length, he answered in a sad, resolute voice, "There is no reason to send him word. They have not been in contact for these past two centuries. And there is nothing Legolas could do. It would only cause him pain and open old wounds." After he'd finished speaking, he swallowed down a new fear: how long would it be before the forces of evil learned of Haldir's absence? How long would it be before Legolas learned of it?

And what would happen then?