Title: Married to an Elf Part 22/25 Author: Inwë Sáralondë Email: mb2002ldgd@yahoo.com.au Pairing(s): Erestor/Glorfindel, Lothvaen/Haldir Rating: PG Summary: Haldir asks something of Lothvaen, and the scribe needs to make a decision. Genre: Romance Word count: 792 Warnings: None Beta: Aglarien Disclaimer: The characters portrayed are the property of J.R.R. Tolkien. No profit or such is made from this. Authors Note: The prompts used were 5 Oct 2006 – ‘nap’; 3 Sep 2007 – ‘scroll’; 26 Sep 2007 – ‘blade’ ************************ Lothvaen watched as Haldir carefully honed his blade, readying it for his return to Lothlórien. “I will miss you,” the scribe said quietly, and the Marchwarden raised his head. “Come with me,” Haldir said simply, laying the blade down on the bed. “Come with me,” he repeated. “Let me show you Lothlórien; let me show you that what we have is more than a simple relationship between two elves – that we are more than just lovers.” Lothvaen looked at him. “You sense it too,” he whispered. Haldir nodded. “I do. Did I not say that you belong to me just as I belong to you? You have my heart, pen- velui…and I think you know I have yours. I can only ask again: come with me. Share my life in Lothlórien. I know Celeborn is looking for a scribe, so you would not be without anything to do. Come,” Haldir pleaded. “Just these last two weeks have shown me that I no longer wish to be alone, and I do not think you want to be, either. Come.” The scribe stared down at the floor. Since his realisation of what Haldir meant to him, he had also become aware of the distance that would separate the two of them when the Marchwarden returned to his home. Now that Haldir was suggesting that he go with him, Lothvaen was more than sorely tempted. But he was not sure what the reception would be if he suddenly showed up in Lothlórien. “Pen-velui?” Lothvaen raised his eyes. “Can I think about it?” he asked softly. “I know you are leaving tomorrow, but your asking me has taken me by surprise.” “You worry about what some will think when their Marchwarden returns with a little scribe in his arms,” Haldir said, though his words were tempered with a smile. “I am not little!” Lothvaen said indignantly. “I am nearly as tall as you!” Haldir chuckled. “You may be nearly as tall as I, pen-velui, but it will be obvious to others that you are no warrior. They will call you little, whether you like it or not.” “Is that why you are calling me thus, so I get used to it?” Lothvaen’s voice was a little peevish. “Mayhap.” Haldir watched as various emotions flitted over the scribe’s face before it settled on one of resignation. “However,” the Marchwarden continued, “I will let them know that you are *my* little scribe. You have no idea how tempting and delectable you are pen-velui.” To prove his point, Haldir captured Lothvaen’s lips in a kiss that left the scribe in no doubt that Haldir believed what he said to be true. “Still,” Lothvaen said a little breathlessly when they finished kissing, “still, I would like to think about it.” “Very well,” Haldir conceded. “But you must let me know tonight, for when we leave, it will be as soon as we have broken our fast.” The Marchwarden looked at Lothvaen steadily. “If it will help make your decision any easier, pen-velui, I would ask if you would bind with me. I know,” he said quickly, seeing Lothvaen open his mouth, “that this is more than sudden, that we barely know each other, but I do not want to lose you, nor can I bear the thought of you being here while I am in Lothlórien.” Lothvaen swallowed. “If anything, you have made my decision more difficult, Haldir. It is too soon to be thinking about binding ourselves. I want to be with you, yes, but I also want to get to know you a little more. You are right in that you say you have my heart but, please, do not rush me.” Haldir gave a small smile. “Forgive me, pen-velui. I did not mean to make things difficult. I just want you with me. Will you at least think about coming to Lothlórien?” Lothvaen nodded. “I will, and I will give you my answer tonight.” He gave Haldir a quick kiss. “I must go; I promised Erestor that I would find a scroll in the library for him.” Lothvaen started to make his way out the room, and then turned to face Haldir again. “I am free this afternoon if you would care to join me in a little nap,” he said, a little shyly. Haldir’s eyebrows rose. “A nap?” he asked, bemused. “I am no doddering old human, *little* scribe, who requires a nap. However, I can think of much better things to while away the afternoon, should you be agreeable.” The glint in Haldir’s eyes left Lothvaen in no doubt what the Marchwarden really meant, and the scribe flushed slightly. “Shall I meet you back here?” Lothvaen asked. Haldir smiled. “I think that an excellent idea, pen-velui.” ************************ Elvish translations: pen-velui – lovely one *~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~* Title: Married to an Elf Part 23/25 Author: Inwë Sáralondë Email: mb2002ldgd@yahoo.com.au Pairing(s): Erestor/Glorfindel, Lothvaen/Haldir, Lindir/Legolas, Thranduil Rating: PG Summary: Erestor is a little annoyed, and Lothvaen is told off. Genre: Romance Word count: 689 Warnings: None Beta: Aglarien Disclaimer: The characters portrayed are the property of J.R.R. Tolkien. No profit or such is made from this. Authors Note: The prompts used were 31 July 2007 – ‘calculating’; 4 Sep 2007 – ‘age’; 15 Oct 2007 – ‘yelp’ ************************ Erestor laid the scroll on the table. It had taken him an age, but he had finally found what he was looking for, no thanks to Lothvaen. The advisor wondered – not for the first time – where the scribe had disappeared to, then sighed. There was no question in his mind *who* Lothvaen was with, of course. It was quite obvious from the previous night that whatever differences there had been between the Marchwarden and Lothvaen were now more than resolved. The two were openly affectionate; Lothvaen more so than Haldir, leaving others in no doubt that it seemed the scribe had finally found his soul-mate. Erestor only hoped that the scribe was ready to deal with Haldir’s departure when he left on the morrow to return to Lothlórien with Galadriel. The door opened suddenly, admitting the very elf Erestor was thinking about. “I am sorry, Erestor! I shall go to the library and look for that scroll for you straight away.” Lothvaen was slightly breathless, as if he had been running. Then his eyes lit upon the table. “Oh,” Lothvaen said in a small voice. “You have already found it.” “Aye, Lothvaen, I have,” Erestor said a little sternly. “I take it you have a good excuse as to why I had to spend my time looking for it instead of writing the expenditure report?” “Because you dislike writing the expenditure report?” Lothvaen asked innocently. Erestor opened his mouth and then shut it again. As silly as Lothvaen’s answer was, it was also true. Erestor *did* dislike doing the expenditure report; more often than not it took him a number of attempts before everything added up. “That is beside the point, Lothvaen,” the advisor said. “I had specifically asked you to search for this scroll and have it on my desk.” “I know,” Lothvaen said shamefacedly. “I am sorry.” Erestor relented. “Very well, let us say no more on the subject. However, you can help me write the report. You are much quicker at figures than I; mayhap you can deal with that while I do the report proper.” “Of course!” Lothvaen smiled happily. “I do not mind adding figures.” “Good,” Erestor said crisply. “Then I suggest you make a start. I want to get this report to Elrond before we have our midday meal.” The advisor watched as Lothvaen quickly gathered the relevant parchments and made his way to the table. Erestor, meanwhile, sat down behind his desk and took the quill in his hand. “Haldir asked me to go with him to Lothlórien.” Erestor laid the quill back down on the table. “As in tomorrow?” he asked, surprised. Lothvaen nodded. “I asked him if I could think about it, but I only have until tonight to give him my answer. What do you think I should do?” the scribe appealed. “I think you should make up your own mind and not ask others to do it for you.” Lothvaen gave a small yelp, and both he and Erestor turned to face the elf who had uttered the words. Thranduil gave Lothvaen an admonishing look before turning his gaze to Erestor. “A moment of your time please, Erestor. There are some things I wish to ask you with regards to the betrothal ceremony.” “Of course,” Erestor said smoothly, rising up from his chair. Turning to Lothvaen, he smiled. “Follow your heart, Lothvaen. Trust what *it* tells you. Now, if you could continue calculating those figures for me and then leave them on my desk, I will include them in my report.” “Yes, Erestor,” Lothvaen stammered, his gaze still fixed upon the Mirkwood king. Erestor followed Thranduil out of the room. “Thank you,” he said wryly, and Thranduil smiled. “I take it this is not the first time Lothvaen has asked you what he should do.” “No, it is not.” Erestor fell into step with Thranduil. “Now, what was it you wanted to ask me?” “Nothing,” Thranduil admitted. “Everything is under control, thanks to Elrond and yourself.” “Then why did you…?” Thranduil gave a slight shrug and smiled. “Well, someone had to rescue you, did they not?” *~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~* Title: Married to an Elf Part 24/25 Author: Inwë Sáralondë Email: mb2002ldgd@yahoo.com.au Pairing(s): Erestor/Glorfindel, Lothvaen/Haldir, Lindir/Legolas Rating: PG Summary: Galadriel surprises Elrond. Genre: Romance Word count: 980 Warnings: None Beta: Aglarien Disclaimer: The characters portrayed are the property of J.R.R. Tolkien. No profit or such is made from this. Authors Note: The prompts used were 30 July 2007 – ‘beckon’; 27 Oct 2006 – ‘star’ ************************ The betrothal ceremony between Lindir and Legolas had proved to be an exuberant affair, with the celebration going well into the early hours of the morning. Elrond yawned as he went out into the courtyard to farewell Galadriel and her escort. He knew that he was not the only elf in Imladris to be suffering from the after-affects, and hoped that he still had enough powders and herbs for those who had over-indulged. They had been depleted considerably courtesy of the celebration after Erestor and Glorfindel’s binding, and Elrond had not had the chance to restock. His eyes lit upon Lothvaen standing next to Haldir. When the scribe had approached him with his request to accompany the Marchwarden back to Lothlórien, Elrond had not known what to reply at first. The request was sudden, to say the least, but in the end the elf-lord could not find it in his heart to refuse. Lothvaen’s smile at Elrond’s agreement had been brighter than any star, and he nearly tripped over his robe in his haste to leave the room. The elf-lord shook his head at the memory, and then winced slightly. Shaking his head, at least for now, was not a good idea. Seeing Galadriel beckon him, Elrond walked towards her. “I trust you are well rested?” she asked, her eyes dancing with merriment, knowing full well that Elrond had celebrated as much as the next elf. Elrond smiled ruefully. “I know I indulged a little last night,” he said honestly. “But it has been an age since we have had such celebrations.” Galadriel smiled. “Lindir appears to be meek and mild, but he is not. You need not worry about him, for he will hold his own. And, when the time comes, he will show that he is a great source of strength,” she said enigmatically. Elrond looked at her, inwardly sighing. True, her foresight was greater than his, but it was frustrating nevertheless when she made comments such as these, leaving those around her wondering what she meant. “Lothvaen is a surprise, I must admit,” the lady of the Golden Wood continued. “I would not have expected Haldir to find his soul-mate here in Imladris. But then,” she said, her gaze twinkling, “there are some things that even I do not know. Yet life should still hold some surprises, should it not?” “Indeed,” Elrond replied. “’Tis just for some that surprises come more often.” Galadriel laughed, a light, carefree sound that had all the elves in the courtyard looking at her. Then her smile became enigmatic once more. “Your sons have taken that final step.” Her remark was short, but to the point. “They have.” “Then all is well,” Galadriel said with some satisfaction. “Aye.” Elrond watched as Haldir helped Lothvaen to mount his horse before the Marchwarden mounted his. “I am relieved, more than anything. While on the one hand I had not anticipated them taking that step so soon, on the other there really could not have been any other way.” “Elladan and Elrohir do not waste time, that is true,” Galadriel conceded. “But they do come after their parents in that respect.” Elrond stopped short and then smiled. What Galadriel said was true. When he had first met Celebrían, he had made his interest in her known from the very beginning, taking every opportunity to spend as much time as he could with her, especially alone. Mind you, it had helped that she had been of the same mind as him, and it had not taken long for the two of them to progress further than what common dictates had allowed. Elrond, in the end, had plucked up the courage to approach Galadriel and Celeborn to ask for the hand of their daughter in marriage a mere five weeks after meeting her, so sure was he that Celebrían was meant for him. Her parents had given their approval with no hesitation, Elrond recalled. “Except neither mother nor experienced the anxieties our sons have gone through,” Elrond said finally. “Your sons’ situation is unique,” Galadriel said. “However, there were many who objected to our daughter marrying one who was a Peredhel. But Celeborn and I knew your true worth, knew who you would become. You were not Gil-galad’s Herald by accident, Elrond. He recognised your potential, saw your shrewd political mind, not to mention your loyalty and your desire to protect. We could not have asked for a better son-in-law and Celebrían a better mate.” Elrond felt a little embarrassed, and knew it showed, for Galadriel gave a gentle smile. “You flatter me too much,” he murmured. “Yet I was unable to help Celebrían when she needed me most.” “It was meant to happen, Elrond.” Galadriel’s voice was heavy. “Even I was not fully cognizant. As much as we feel guilt over what happened, we would not have been able to have done anything.” Elrond looked at her in surprise. “You feel guilt?” he asked. “I did, Elrond. I felt guilt because I was not able to protect my daughter, just as you felt guilt because you were unable to heal her.” They were standing next to Galadriel’s horse, and Elrond helped the Lady of the Golden Wood to mount. “Farewell, Elrond,” Galadriel said. “You need not fear for Lothvaen; he will be more than safe with Haldir.” Both she and Elrond looked at the two elves in question, and they both smiled when they saw Haldir and Lothvaen sharing a loving look between them. “I am sorry to lose Lothvaen. However, I am sure Saelbeth will fill his shoes comfortably enough, providing Erestor is prepared to be a little patient,” Elrond remarked. Galadriel smiled. “That might be a difficult task; your advisor has returned to his usual self, I hear.” Elrond chuckled. “He has indeed and I, for one, am most glad to see him back.” ************************ Elvish translations: Peredhel – half elf *~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~* Title: Married to an Elf Part 25/25 Author: Inwë Sáralondë Email: mb2002ldgd@yahoo.com.au Pairing(s): Erestor/Glorfindel, Legolas/Lindir, Elladan/Elrohir, Lothvaen/Haldir Rating: PG Summary: Thranduil leaves, along with Legolas and Lindir. Genre: Romance Word count: 1,077 Warnings: None Beta: Aglarien Disclaimer: The characters portrayed are the property of J.R.R. Tolkien. No profit or such is made from this. Authors Note: The prompts used were 30 Aug 2006 – ‘meander‘; 8 June 2007 – ‘stunt’; 10 Aug 2007 – ‘balance’; 13 Oct 2007 – ‘verdant’ ************************ It was a week later when Elrond found himself once more in the courtyard, this time bidding farewell to Thranduil and his party, which also included Legolas and Lindir. The elf-lord smiled inwardly as he watched the minstrel balance precariously on his horse, for it was obvious that Lindir had not spent much time riding and was therefore feeling unsure. “What happens if he just starts to meander?” Lindir asked Legolas worriedly. “He will not meander, Lindir, for I will be holding onto his reins,” Legolas replied patiently, reaching out with his hand to smooth away the line of worry on the minstrel’s forehead. “Oh,” was all that Lindir replied, before leaning into the caress as Legolas’ hand cupped his cheek. Thranduil cleared his throat. “Enough, otherwise we will never begin our journey home.” “Sorry, Adar,” Legolas said, though it was plain by his voice that he was not apologetic in the slightest, while Lindir merely blushed and bowed his head, embarrassed. Thranduil shook his head ruefully, and then smiled. His gaze then turned to Elladan and Elrohir, standing closely together, and he wondered anew how it could be that the twins were actually the two halves of one soul, and that by only becoming lovers could that soul be joined. But sometimes there were things that just were not able to be explained, and Thranduil suspected this was one of them. Looking around him, the king took in his verdant surroundings, feeling a little melancholy. It had been such a long time since his home had shown such greenness, and he hoped that the day would return where Mirkwood would be green and lush once more. “Are you well, Thranduil?” Elrond asked. The king turned and looked at the elf-lord. “Aye. I am but merely thinking of how my home used to be green like this, and the trees growing strong and tall in the sunlight.” Elrond placed a consoling hand on the king’s arm. “That time will return again, Thranduil,” the elf-lord said quietly. Thranduil smiled briefly. “I know it will.” His voice was strong in its conviction, and he clasped Elrond’s arm before letting go and mounting his horse. Erestor and Glorfindel had already said their farewells, and were watching as Thranduil and his escort readied themselves to leave. “I am going to miss Lindir,” Glorfindel said quietly. The darkling elf nodded his agreement. “First Lothvaen, now Lindir leaves. Who would have thought that in such a short space of time elves would lose their hearts so quickly?” “How do you feel about Lothvaen going to Lothlórien?” Glorfindel asked curiously. “I could say I was surprised, but Lothvaen did approach me, asking me what he should do. I told him he should listen to his heart and so, in the end, it was not a surprise after all,” Erestor replied. Glorfindel smiled briefly. “The twins seem to have adapted themselves well to their new relationship.” Erestor snorted. “’Tis all or nothing with those two. They have never done things by halves, and never will.” “Strangely enough, Elrond said the same thing.” Erestor turned and looked at Glorfindel. “How long have you been in Imladris?” Blinking at the question, Glorfindel replied, “Since before the twins were born.” “Exactly. Which means you have known the twins since their birth. Do you not think you would have seen for yourself what they were like, that they always threw themselves into things, that there were no half- hearted attempts by either of them?” Erestor’s voice was testy. Glorfindel smiled broadly. “I do like it when you get annoyed with me, Counsellor,” he whispered into his mate’s ear. Erestor’s eyes narrowed. “You deliberately do this,” he said flatly. “What makes you think I am amused by such behaviour?” “Because, ervainen vorn, you tolerate it when it is I that pulls a stunt such as this. Others you would glare at until they wilt under your gaze. But I, on the other hand, am the only one that makes your heart beat faster, the only one you wish to shake until my teeth rattle and then kiss me senseless…” “Enough!” Erestor hissed, barely stifling a moan as Glorfindel began sucking on the darkling elf’s ear. “We are in public, for Valar’s sake!” “Mmm, we are.” Glorfindel gave a gentle nip to his mate’s ear before moving away. “I would have no objections if we continued this…conversation in private, later, if you wish.” There was a gleam in the seneschal’s eyes. “Agreed,” Erestor said, his smile a little feral. “Be prepared to be taught a lesson, melethen.” “Then I can not wait.” Elladan and Elrohir watched the exchange between the advisor and seneschal, amusement threatening to spill over into laughter. “They are more than well-matched,” Elrohir commented, linking his arm through his lover’s. “Aye.” Elladan’s gaze turned to Legolas and Lindir. “I still can not believe that Lindir is betrothed to Legolas, and is now going to make his home in Mirkwood.” Following his lover’s gaze, Elrohir smiled as he saw the minstrel blush under something Legolas had said. But the love that flowed between the two of them was palpable, and Elrohir gave a small sigh. “What is it?” Elladan asked. “I am just wondering how it is that the relationship between and Lindir and Legolas seems so…uncomplicated.” Elladan looked at his lover. “You have mentioned this before,” he said, smiling. “Whereas we fought against our destiny, and Erestor fought against Glorfindel. I wonder what they must have thought, seeing the discord around them.” “They were probably all the more determined not to fall into the same trap,” Elrohir replied. Elladan stifled a laugh. “And then there’s Lothvaen,” he said. “Who would have thought he would capture the heart of the stern Marchwarden? Now *that* is something I would never have guessed.” “That makes two of us, though I doubt if we are the only ones who think that.” “Are you happy for him?” Elladan wanted to know. “Of course I am. Nothing pleases me more than the fact that he has finally found love. I never wanted to hurt him.” “I know you did not, but it was you who pointed out that our relationships with others never worked out because of the fact that it was *us* who were meant to be together.” “Melin chen,” Elrohir whispered. Elladan’s breath caught, and with a shaking hand he cupped his lover’s cheek. “Melin chen, bevae,” he said, almost in wonderment. “Always.” ************************ Elvish translation: Adar – father ervainen vorn – my dark beautiful one melethen – my love melin chen – I love you melin chen, bevae – I love you, too *~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*