Title: A Bond of Brothers 
Chapter Three - Fear and Foresight
Author: Oakenshield (Oakenshield@lonelymountain.zzn.com)
Rating: PG-13
Pairing(s): Celeborn/Haldir, implied Elladan/Elrohir
Warnings/Spoilers: Incest
Archive: Anyone who wants it is welcome to have it, just let me know first.
Disclaimer: The characters and the places all belong to J.R.R. Tolkien, and I
am making no profit from this at all.
Summary: Galadriel and Celeborn are forced to go along with Elrond plans to
separate the twins, while Haldir has a plot of his own.

------

Chapter Three - Fear and Foresight


Lothlórien
Year 2496 of the 3rd Age


Disbelief...

/'Why have they done this?' /

Denial...

/'It cannot be. Not my sons, my sons, my blood. It cannot be this way...'/

Guilt... 

/'I should not do this!'/

Shame...

/'It is not my doing. This is not my curse.'/

Betrayal...

Rejection...

/'My heart is not as yours. My path is not as yours. It must end now. It is
over, before it has begun.' /

Fear...

/'Mother, hear my cry! Help me!' /

Galadriel shivered as memories and feelings washed through her spirit. Pleas
that had been cried to her heart in her dreams, whispers that the winds of time
had confided in her, soft hints of what was to come, and come it had, faster
than she had ever anticipated. Not creeping softly with insidious footsteps as
she had expected, rather swooping down like a great storm, battering everything
in its path and sweeping everyone off their feet.

She walked to the window and stared through the canopy at the night sky, hoping
to find in the Heavens the assistance that she would not find on Arda. 

"What would you do, Eärendil, were you here?" she whispered. "You are their
grandfather too. Would you stand by and do nothing? Would you agree to their
parents' wishes? Would you let your son do the wrong thing?" 

It had been some months since she had received the distressed letter from
Elrond, brought by counsellor Erestor, and put into her own hands, telling of
the discovery of the twins' incestuous affair. The letter had been burned after
reading it, a request from Elrond himself, but she could still remember the
content and the hasty scrawl of the script. The odd bit of smudged ink, as
though a tear had fallen upon the parchment.  

"I do not know what Elrond hopes to achieve by this!" 

She turned back into the room, where the rug seemed to be wearing thinner by
the second beneath Celeborn's feet. It was as if his mind was racing and he was
trying, in a vain attempt, to get his body to keep up. Back and forth,
Galadriel had heard his feet tread. Back and forth, the swish of a grey robe
and the toss of a silver head. He was so much like Celebrían when unnerved. She
could hear the same cry from his soul as the one from her child that had woken
her nearly half a year ago. 

His heart was breaking, with the same confusion and betrayal she had felt from
afar from the Lord of Imladris. 

His mind was in turmoil, twisting and flowing with the same helpless feeling as
her own. 

She stared at him as he stopped for a half second to throw his arms up in the
air before turning on his heel and continuing his march of the rug. "He is
burying his head in the sand!" 

She could not argue with him about that. The proposal her son-in-law had
envisaged was preposterous indeed, but she could not order him to do otherwise.
She had no right to. Elladan and Elrohir were his sons, after all. She could
only try to advise him, but there was no time to do that, and she knew that he
would take very little notice of her if she did. 

If only there had been a chance to speak with both him and Celebrían face to
face, but time was against them. She had hoped in vain that the stalling months
would have put some time on her side, maybe for Elrond to change his mind, or
the twins to change their course, but neither had come about. 

Elrond was furious, naturally, but the letter had said little of Celebrían's
feelings on the matter. Knowledge aside, Galadriel knew her daughter's heart.
Celebrían was being pushed into a situation she was not at all happy with. 

Her daughter was not weak by far, but sometimes her love for Elrond weakened
her judgement. She knew that if it had been left up to Celebrían this web of
deceit would not have ever been spun. But thanks to Elrond, it had, and it was
growing bigger by the second, pulling unwitting bystanders into its tangled
net. Galadriel did not share Celeborn's anger at their daughter's husband.
Rather, she had seen cause for much pity. His mind was corrupted by memories of
the past; he had looked little into the future. If he had, he would have chosen
a different path to send his family down. He would have looked further into his
own heart and found truth and hope there. Instead he was wallowing in anger and
denial, spawned out of a pain and terror that he refused to let out.

She did not know either what he hoped to achieve in having the twins apart for
two years. He had said in his letter that he believed the twins only to be
acting upon foolish lust but Galadriel knew better, and she knew he was only
trying to fool himself.  

She had always had an inkling that the twins would find love with each other.
They had never been so close to anyone as each other, and not only because they
were twins. Their souls were joined. The news that they were lovers had not
come as a shock to her. It had only ever been a matter of time, but still she
had not been prepared for this.

She remembered when they had been born. She had arrived barely in time to see
them breathe their first air. It had been thundering that night, Elrond had
been out hunting, the little ones had not been not due to come into the world
for yet another month, but something had pulled her to Imladris, and she had
ridden on the storm to find her daughter exhausted by the long hard labour.
Glorfindel had been there, in Elrond's stead, holding Celebrían's hand,
encouraging her not to give in. 

She remembered how Elrond had returned home, cold and drenched, as dawn had
been rising, to find a twin in each crib, crying inconsolably. He had known why
they cried, with the heart of one who had been a twin, and he had lifted
Elrohir from his cot to place him beside Elladan, wrapping him in the same
shawl. They had stopped crying in an instant, curling towards each other, tiny
fingers entwining, blue-grey eyes looking into blue-grey eyes, speaking of
things that were not to be heard.

She had known in that moment. And so had Elrond. She had seen his premonition,
though he had refused to meet her gaze above the cradle. 

"And now it is being left to us to sort out!" Celeborn cried. "He is a renowned
warrior and healer, for pity's sake yet when his children get out of hand, he
can do nothing more than shove the responsibility on us!"

Elrond had hoped their wisdom would be able to solve the matter, but Galadriel
knew of nothing that they could do to stop it. Celeborn had sat and cried upon
reading the letter for the fourth time and convincing himself that it was true.
He had condemned her for her calmness in such a situation, but she could do
nothing to change the course of fate, even if she wanted to. Things had to take
place, and take shape. Evil things had to be spawned for light to spring from
them one day. For now, there was nothing they could do but ride the wild steed
of time and hold on tight until it ran itself out.

"I... I still cannot believe the twins have done this!" Celeborn finally
dropped down into the chair. "It seems like a horrible dream!"

"It may seem like one, but you are not going to wake up from it," Galadriel
told him. "Your hoping it is not happening will do no better than Elrond's
pretending."

"I do not know how I will face Elladan." Celeborn turned troubled eyes to her.
"I love that child, and even now I love him no less than ever. I do not know
how I will look him in the eyes knowing what I now know. He is not the child I
used to sit on my knee and tell tales to. He is not the youth I counselled in
times of trouble. He is an adult, wayward and dishonest. I do not know how I
can be as I once was with him."

"Neither do I, but we must try. Let us try to take things as they come."

"Elrond is a fool!" Celeborn snorted. "But Elladan is not, and he is certainly
not going to allow us to force a wife upon him. This is folly and Celebrían
would think so too! This is Elrond's doing, not hers. It is the Man's blood in
him. Stubborn to the point of being downright stupid!" He heaved himself from
the chair and began to pace again. "I hate deceiving the boys like this. I fare
like my daughter, I know not what to make of this situation, but I know that
Elrond's proposal will cause nothing but further complications. A counsel
should be called - you, Celebrían, Elrond and myself. We should discuss this as
a family, not all be pushed into uncomfortable situations by Elrond!" 

"Celeborn, I agree with you." She raised a hand to still him. "But we cannot
interfere in their wishes, even if we think it is for the best. Whatever we may
think, it is their family and their responsibility. I am not arguing with you,
my love, Elrond's plan is not going to work and he will find himself in grave
trouble for it. But for now we must do as he wishes, and not get involved."

With a frustrated sigh, Celeborn seated himself again. "That obstinate ass of a
Half-Elf has already got us involved! I will not go along with his plans, I
tell you. I will not lie to Elladan. I will not force him to court any maiden,
as much as the thought of this incest sickens me.  I cannot deceive him,
Galadriel; I do not think the ability to is in me!" 

"You do not have to. Just keep your silence." She reached a hand to his, and
felt his fingers tremble within her palm. "He will take his guard training as
planned. We will not often see him, he will be out at the borders most of the
time. You do not have to do anything to aid Elrond's deception."

Pulling his hand from her fingers, he looked long into her eyes, trying to find
some hope there. "And what will you do, my Lady?" he whispered. 

It would have eased her heart to share her thoughts with her husband, but
sometimes she had to keep things silent. Sometimes the only counsel she could
trust was her own. 

"You have seen something." Celeborn rose from his chair to stand before her. "I
know you have. I have known you long enough to know this mood. What have you
seen Galadriel? I demand you tell me what it is."
 
In truth she had seen little, even the mirror had failed to give her any idea
of the outcome when she had consulted it, but she had felt much. All would work
out, but blood would be spilled and families torn for it. She had dreamed much,
and much of it troubled her. She had dreamed of a divide, and of mountains and
a cave and then the Sea. Elrond standing alone on a balcony in Imladris. Then
of a King of Men. And Elrond again, standing alone on a grey ship.

Visions from the past had also haunted her - images of love unrequited, of
blood and kin torn in shreds, of centuries of lies, and a future of shame. But
that was not to be spoken of yet, a time would come when she would use this
knowledge to the aid of the family, and it was not to happen for some time yet. 

"I know nothing." She shook her head and tried to turn her eyes from her
husband's stare but he followed her.

"I do not believe you. You are keeping something from me. I may not be able to
read the minds and hearts of folk as you do, but I can read your heart.
Something is troubling you; I see it in your eyes. You have seen something that
has caused you much fear and you are keeping it hidden it from me. Do not deny
it."

Galadriel rose to move from him. "You must trust me, Celeborn," she said
softly. "I do not keep it from you as much as I keep it to myself. Trust me,
please? It will all work out for the best, even if it seems impossible now." 

"I need to take a walk." Celeborn paced to the door, snatching a wine bottle
from the dresser. "I need to clear my head." 

Galadriel did not argue with him as he stormed from the talan, it was best to
let him march around the wood for a while until he grew too tired to be angry
anymore. But as he began to stalk down the stairs, she began to wish she had
stopped him grabbing the bottle. Celeborn rarely indulged in drinking, he was
not an Elf who could take potent drink well, and she knew he would get himself
in a state with it. She fully expected to have him brought home in the morning
by one of the guards. She shook her head and sighed heavily, deciding her
husband getting drunk in his sorrow was not something to overly concern herself
with. If he did come home in the morning feeling ill effects, she was not going
to nurse his aching head with a cold cloth. She had more important things to
worry about. 

Crossing to the window again, she raised her eyes back to the stars and lifted
a prayer to Eärendil.  

"As the brightest of the gems in the sky, I beg you to guide his heart from
your height. Give him the strength to see through his fears. You are not upon
the Earth to show him the right path, but shine your light upon it in his
dreams and he will see, he will hear his Father's voice and he will heed it.
You would not have done as he is doing. With all my power, I beg you to hear my
plea. End it, before it is begun."

"My Lady Galadriel?" A light hand fell upon her shoulder.

She started as a pale haired Elf maiden seemed to materialise at her side. Her
handmaiden Melethoniel. She had not even felt her presence in the room, so lost
was she in her thoughts.

"Lord Celeborn bade me enter, I beg your pardon," Melethoniel apologised with a
small curtsey. "He seemed a little distressed, and I must say that you do as
well. Is everything all right?"

"No, my dear, it is not," Galadriel sighed, "but I am sure it will be." She
forced a smile. "Elladan is arriving in a month."

"Yes." The maid smiled. "I am looking forward to seeing him again. We were
great friends as children, Elrohir too. He is to train for the guard, so Haldir
tells me."

Haldir. There was a name that always made Galadriel frown. She knew something
troubled Haldir deeply, though she could never find out what it was. He was
always careful to avoid her, and even more careful to avoid her eyes on the
rare occasions they did meet. She had often felt a great sadness emanating from
the young march warden's soul. A great bitterness, tainted with fear and shame.
He would never let her see anymore than that, and she worried for him. The only
time she had felt him at peace was during Elladan's last visit. She knew they
had been involved, it had been no secret. Now the same instinct that whispered
of Haldir's weaker traits told her that just as much treachery and deceit hid
in his soul, and he would not let Elladan go easily. 

"Watch over Elladan for me while he is here." Galadriel took Melethoniel's hand
and found a slim fancy for her grandson in the girl's heart, but no lust, and
no malice. "Promise me."

"I promise I will," Melethoniel said, "though I do not see what harm he can
come to here." She frowned. "Are you sure everything is all right, my Lady?" 

"Yes," Galadriel replied. "It will be." 

******

"Four weeks to go! My, how time flies! Only four weeks!" 

A rare childish moment overtook Haldir and he had to fist his hands in his
pockets and bite his tongue to refrain from embarrassing himself by dancing and
giggling like a youngster. 

It seemed but a day ago to his memories that the dashing son of Elrond Peredhel
had found his way into his bed. As Lord and Prince of both Imladris and the
Golden Wood, Elladan had considered himself quite a catch, apparently one to
lie with many Men but only very privileged Elves, of which race Haldir was only
the second. 

The marchwarden smiled warmly to think how he had called Elladan an arrogant
pig, and Elladan had told him they shared that characteristic. Then they had
kissed. Weeks of nights of passion followed, no night any less heated than the
one before, but something had always felt cold to Haldir. Even when his body
had been on fire, Elladan's heart had felt cold to him, and he had only noticed
this chill as his own heart had been warming. It had troubled him deeply at the
time, though in the months gone by he had pushed the feeling aside. But now the
time for Elladan to pay another visit was looming, the worry was starting to
tremble within Haldir's heart once more. Feelings he certainly had for the heir
of Imladris, yet what those feelings were, he was not sure. All he knew was
that they certainly carried some sort of weight to be troubling him so. 

"How ridiculous!" he muttered to himself, trying to laugh the sentiment away. 

"And what is so ridiculous?" A voice, clearly slurred by the effects of alcohol
stopped him in his paces. "The world seems to be a fairly ridiculous place at
the moment."

Haldir turned slowly on his heel to regard a form sitting between the roots of
a great mallorn. Half a bottle of wine sat close by, dribbling a thin line of
blood red fluid from its lip. A step nearer allowed him to make out the
identity of the inebriated figure and he frowned, narrowing his eyes against
the darkness as a silver head turned to regard him.

"My Lord...?" He took two steps towards the drunken Celeborn, not wanting to
intrude on his space, but concerned for his master's state of being.

"What is so ridiculous, Haldir?" Celeborn patted the damp grass at his side to
invite him to sit. "Do tell me. Perhaps it is less ridiculous than my current
situation."

/'I'll bet he's had a quarrel with Galadriel,'/ Haldir thought to himself with
a smirk, well aware how maudlin Celeborn could be on the few occasions he had
seen him in this state. Very different to the strong and dominant individual he
was when sober. 

"The heart, my Lord," he answered carefully, crossing the copse to crouch
beside Celeborn. "I was speaking aloud about the heart, that love is a most
ridiculous emotion."

"Oh, it is indeed!" Celeborn put a hand to his eyes to hide the tears that
Haldir had already seen. "There is naught more ridiculous in the world than the
heart. How does your heart trouble you, Haldir? I thought you said you were
loveless. Or you said you would never love again, which was it?" 

Haldir swallowed the sour taste of the comment. "I may have said both," he said
softly, raising his head high, "though now I find myself eating my words.
Perhaps I have found someone who will love me as I love him, rather than use me
for his own desires as some have done in the past."

"It is a fine dream!" Celeborn clapped him about the shoulder. "Only do not
forget your duties, Haldir, in this newfound infatuation you are under. You are
my finest captain. You keep the wood safe. You, of all my subjects, would
surely not forget your oath to always serve your Lord. You swore it with heart
and body." Despite his drunkenness, Celeborn placed a firm hand on Haldir's
knee and raised a sharp eyebrow at him, looking deeply into his face.

"I would not dream of it, my Lord." Haldir shifted his leg from beneath the
uncomfortable grasp. "My oath was spoken in truth and ..." He could not stand
to say the word 'honour'. That had been lost long ago. "I do not take lightly
the promise I made."

He had sworn it with his body in a second. And he had paid for it with his
heart for centuries. Nights spent in fire, to be followed by days spent in ice.
Intimacy in the dark hours, to be followed by disregard in the light hours. And
then also in the dark ones. But still, the oath had been sworn, with more words
than a common warden would speak, and it was not broken. It would hold forever. 

"But we will not speak on this now, hm?" Celeborn offered him the bottle. "My
worries go further than your loyalty to me, Haldir."

"I am always loyal to you." Haldir straightened his back as he took the bottle
to taste a sip. "I have served you since I was little more than a child, in
case you have forgotten." 

Strong fingers dug into his hand for second longer than necessary as Celeborn
snatched the bottle back. "If I were not so drunk, I would strike you for that
implication." 

"And if you were not so drunk I would leave your side for your implications."
Haldir seated himself on his cloak to protect himself from the damp grass,
knowing well that Celeborn would not truly raise a hand to him for anything in
the world. The silly fool was trying to show a false amount of strength to hide
his grief. "As I say, I am loyal, and the past is the past and it matters no
more. I only wish to know what has put you in such a state." Out of curiosity,
if not care. 

"Elladan is coming in a few weeks."

Haldir nodded. "Yes, I know that."

Celeborn smiled at him, like he was holding in some silly secret. "You do not
know why he's coming, though."

Haldir sighed. "For his guard training, I assume." Celeborn seemed to want to
play some childish guessing game with him. He would humour his Lord for a
while. Indeed, he was very good at that. 

"You and Elladan were lovers for a short while, were you not?" Celeborn turned
his head to look at him, but had to blink in order to focus on him. "Do not
think I do not know, Haldir, I see all."

He had not expected to keep it from Celeborn, but the Lord's frank use of the
knowledge rattled him a little. "Yes, we were," he answered softly, studying
Celeborn's grave face for a bad reaction.

Rather, his Lord raised his face to the tree canopy and broke out in a laugh as
tears rolled down his cheeks. "He has forsaken your bed for another's, and it
does not go down well with his parents. I can tell you no more than that, but
the choice he has made will tear apart my family and it breaks my heart."

Haldir's face paled and his gut tightened. "He... Elladan has chosen someone?"
He should have known it was too good to be true. He had known. He had always
felt it. "Who? Can it be so terrible? Let me guess - Thranduil's bastard child?
Oh, that would not go well with Lord Elrond at all."

"No! It is far worse than Legolas of Mirkwood!" Celeborn sighed and buried his
face in his hand once more. "I cannot tell you, Haldir. I am sworn to secrecy.
Yet the trouble is now all in my hands and I do not know what to do with it.
Elrond wants me to find Elladan a wife! But it is no good, it will not work! I
cannot change his heart, can I?" 

Haldir laid a hand on Celeborn's arm, frowning with confusion. This was not
making sense. Find Elladan a *wife*? It was no secret that Elladan did not like
maidens. "I do not know what to say, my Lord." 

Celeborn found his hand and gripped it. "I am sorry. I should not have said
anything. It must be harsh news for you. Promise you will not breathe a word?" 

"I promise," Haldir nodded, "but I do not have a word to breathe unless you
give me a name." He looked sideways at Celeborn.  It was certainly not out of
care for him. It was partly out of sheer inquisitiveness to know who had
replaced him, and partly out of concern for Elladan. It sounded like a plan was
being hatched behind Elladan's back, and he wanted to know what it was. It
sounded dire indeed, and if comfort and persuasion would not make Celeborn give
up the knowledge, then he would not be too proud to use other methods.

"No, I cannot!" Celeborn rose to his feet, and swayed. "Haldir, you do not know
what you ask of me."

Haldir caught him with a strong arm and supported his weight. "I should like to
think you could tell me, Lord Celeborn, after everything you've shared with me
in the past." 

Celeborn leaned heavily against his side. "What?" he whispered, blinking
owlishly.

"I mean, we were very close once, were we not?" Haldir hoisted the Lord's arm
around his own shoulder to assist in holding him on his feet. "It does hurt me
a little to think you cannot trust me to keep a secret. You know I am good at
keeping secrets." He saw Celeborn gulp a little, and smiled while
simultaneously frowning at his own unexpected manipulation of the situation. "I
think I should escort you home."

"No." Celeborn tried to pull away from him, but stumbled against a tree. "No,
Galadriel should not see me like this. She will surely murder me. She has too
much to worry about as it is. Perhaps... perhaps you should take me somewhere,
so I can sleep it off. What do you say?"

"Perhaps you are right." Haldir caught him again. "You certainly cannot stay
here all night. Walk with me, breathe in the night air and try to sober
yourself a little. Take my arm."

Celeborn gripped his arm tightly. "You are too kind to me, Haldir," he said. "I
do not deserve your counsel, not after everything..."

"Enough of that." He did not want to hear a false, wine-soaked apology; that
was worse than none at all, and it did not matter anymore. It was too late for
Celeborn to speak it now, even if he meant it. Haldir told himself firmly that
he would take control this time, before harsh whispers and soft threats gave
Celeborn the upper hand once again after so many years. "With body and heart,
my Lord." He slowly began to walk through the trees. "And ear and shoulder,
should you wish it."

He swallowed hard, thinking about Elladan in another's bed. He had never laid
claim to the young Lord, but it hurt all the same. He wished he had laid claim
to him, and spoke of his true feelings before. He wondered who Elladan now
shared a bed with, and why it was so awful. He would ask no more questions, for
he knew there was nothing better than silence to provoke Celeborn into
speaking. 

Against his heart, Haldir's feet were taking them back to his talan. Something
in his mind pulled him there, with Celeborn at his elbow, like so many times in
years that he had tried in vain to forget. Years where he had learned the true
power and prowess of the Silver Tree. It had always been at his home, after
that first time. It was easier that way, after his mother had died bringing
Rúmil into the world, and their father had sailed West to bear away his grief,
Orophin - newly appointed head of the family - had joined the guard, and Haldir
had been told he was old enough to look after himself. He wondered if his elder
brother had ever suspected the bites and bruises on his body when he returned
from the border, or if his baby brother had ever heard cries of passion while
he slept in his crib, shielded from the sordid events by little more than a
velvet curtain, or if the Lady of the Wood had suspected anything while she
waited for her husband to return home; surely as she would this night.

It had never been bad, it had never been painful, he had never been cruel;
always tender, always eager, always grateful. That was the worst part about it.
The tenderness had allowed a lonely youngster's heart to enflame. Haldir had
been naïve enough to search for another father in the one who had plundered his
body of honour, only to find something deeper growing in his soul, only to find
he was little more than a whore... 

"What is your view on incest?" Celeborn said heavily close to his ear. "And do
not lie to me. Is it not true that it is illegal and immoral and nothing would
bring more shame upon a family and a nation?" 

Haldir nodded slowly, a thick nasty taste rising to his throat in response to
his mind's accrual, adding to the acidity of his prior thoughts. "Is this to do
with Elladan, my Lord? Do not say what I think you are saying." 

Incest?! Elladan? That meant.... That meant Elrohir! Elrohir was the lover that
did not go down well with Elrond. He felt his stomach heave as a cold sweat
broke over his skin but he swallowed it down. He could not let Celeborn see
such a violent reaction. 

Incest...

Oh, for the love of Lórien, it could not be true! He could live with it if it
was the son of Thranduil, but to be replaced by his lover's own twin? It did
not bear thinking about, but the thought gripped his mind regardless. That was
why Elladan's heart had always been frozen... But how long had this affair been
going on? Only since after he had been with Elladan, if he read Celeborn's
words correctly. As much as it wounded his soul and sickened his stomach, he
needed to know more. He needed to know everything. He needed to know why.
Comfort and persuasion would not be enough. He had to use the oath he had sworn
to Celeborn, even in breaking the promise he had sworn to himself. 

"What do you think I am saying, Haldir?" Celeborn stumbled at his side. "Oh,
curse this drink! I have said too much!"

"On the contrary, my Lord, you have not." Haldir drew in a slow breath and
schooled his features back into a mask of concern. "I swear I will not say a
word to anyone."

He found Celeborn suddenly very close to his face, looking into his eyes. "Are
you in love with my grandson, Haldir?" 

/'Yes... Yes, I am in love with him...'  /

Haldir looked back into his eyes, forcing a smile."Whether I am or not matters
little now, it seems," he said, his cool countenance betrayed only slightly by
the tremble in his voice. "But come, spend the rest of this evening with me,
and you can tell me all about it in private." He dared to slide a hand around
Celeborn's back and incline his head a little.

That was one thing he had learned in the years as Celeborn's pet. Even at the
tender age of fifty, he had been beautiful enough to attract the Lord of
Lórien, and once even the King of Greenwood the Great. As he had matured into
an adult he had learned he was a fine creature to behold - handsome of face
with a figure more robust than most of his kind. After Celeborn had released
him, it had taken him little time to hone the fine art of seduction and entrap
lovers of both sexes from all over the land. Now he was to use his skill on the
one who had taught it to him. It was amazing how easily people would talk when
dizzy with wine and addled with lust. Oh yes, he would show Celeborn just what
he had given up all those years ago. He was no longer the infatuated submissive
little Elf that Celeborn had once known. 

"With body and heart, eh? I thought we had stopped all that." Celeborn smiled
back at Haldir, before pulling him close to crush a kiss to his lips, his hand
reaching beneath the hem of the guard's tunic to fondle him crudely between the
legs. 

"And I swore to always return to you in your hour of need," Haldir replied,
gasping as the old caresses resumed after centuries as if they had never
stopped. "I think the hour has come."