Title: Slave Of Your Affliction
Author: Luthien Tinuviel
Email: luthien_of_lorien@hotmail.com
Pairing: Celeborn/Haldir
Rating: NC-17
Summary: Celeborn receives a leaving gift when he goes to live in 
Imladris, but the gift turns out to have a more complicated story behind 
it...
Disclaimer: Yeah, yeah, I don't own this. You should know that by now.
Warning: Non-con sex, graphic violence
Authors Note: This fic is written from two points of view - one of these is 
Haldir's, and it should be obvious which is which. Westron speech is in 
'...', and I have made an attempt to use Elvish when it is Haldir's 
perspective (Ai, Elbereth, help us!!!). The translations are at the bottom if 
you want to know what has been said, but I have not included them in the 
text because I think it adds to the idea that Haldir can't understand what is 
being said.
   
Takes place after the Quest. Galadriel has sailed to Valinor and Celeborn 
is leaving Lothlórien for Imladris. I don't know much at all about Haldir 
and his family...come on, barely anything is know about Legolas and he 
appears in more than one chapter in the whole book! For the sake of 
argument, Haldir is the youngest of the three brothers, and I also think that 
it's fairly safe to assume that this is AU (yes, I know that Haldir is 
Guardian of ‘Lórien)...ah, well, it's Elendor's birthday present. Her plot 
line, my incessant ranting. Happy birthday, girl, you don't know what 
you've got yourself into here!
   
  ***************
  CHAPTER 1
  ***************
   
  The Gift
 
"We have one last gift for you ere you go, my lord," announced Rúmil 
proudly. Celeborn stood from his throne, which he was soon to leave 
behind, and smiled at the Guardian of the Golden Wood. "Really, Rúmil, 
that is not necessary," he replied, laying a hand on the warrior's shoulder. 
"Your service over the countless years has been more than enough 
already."
 
Rúmil bowed his head. "Please, my lord, do us this last service of 
accepting our gift," he insisted, turning and walking to the mallorn trees 
that outlined the edge of the clearing of Caras Galadhon; his brother, 
Orophin, walked forwards to meet him, leading with him another tall 
figure that Celeborn did not recognise, grasped firmly by one arm as if he 
would try to escape. Rúmil took the other arm and aided his sibling in 
dragging the stranger, who appeared to be another Elf, to the feet of the 
Lord of ‘Lórien, where they then forced him to his knees. The unknown 
Elf struggled weakly in the grasp of the brothers but was unable to escape, 
and instead stared ashamedly at the floor as he knelt with Rúmil on one 
side of him and Orophin on the other, each still firmly holding a shoulder.
 
Celeborn studied the figure with interest; now that he was able to inspect 
him more closely he could tell that he was indeed an Elf, most probably of 
Silvan origin. He was young, and had long, silver hair that was unbraided 
to show that he held no position of importance, although he had been well 
dressed in gold and green velvet, the colours of Lothlórien. "Who is this?" 
enquired the Elven-lord, stooping to lift the young Elf's chin with two 
fingers since he refused to meet his eye. He met no resistance, and gently 
raised the silver head to reveal fair, handsome features and a pair of 
stunning hazel eyes that held a humiliated expression and were sparkling 
slightly despite the surprisingly vacant look on the rest of his face.
 
"We felt that you might be lonely in Imladris now that Lord Elrond has 
departed, my lord," replied Orophin, regarding the Elven-lord's reactions 
expectantly. "He is to be your consort."
 
Celeborn raised an eyebrow and then looked back down at the young Elf. 
"What is your name, little one?" he asked gently, for he seemed to be 
somewhat dazed and frightened.
 
"He does not speak Elvish, my lord," supplemented Rúmil helpfully. "He 
has been raised by the Men of the Dales and only speaks Westron - when 
he speaks, that is. He does not speak much at all and will only do as he is 
told, but nonetheless we have sedated him for your journey, just as a 
precaution."
 
Celeborn acknowledged Rúmil's comment with a nod but never took his 
eyes from the bewitching hazel pair before him. 'What is your name, little 
one?' he repeated in Westron, and a flicker of recognition crossed the 
young Elf's face.
 
'Haldir - my name is Haldir,' he whispered, gazing up at the Elven-lord 
with hope shining in his eyes. His words were slurred and he still looked 
somewhat dazed, proving Rúmil to be correct when he had said that he 
had been drugged. Celeborn smiled at him kindly as he continued 
speaking. 'Well then, Haldir, it appears as though you are to accompany 
me to Imladris. Can you ride?'
 
The silver-haired Elf shook his head and averted his eyes shamefacedly, 
but Celeborn placed a hand on his shoulder and caused him to look up 
again. 'Do not worry, you shall ride with me,' he said, and then turned 
back to Rúmil and Orophin. "I am afraid that it is time for me to leave," he 
declared, a hint of sadness in his voice as he switched back to his native 
Elvish language. "I cannot thank either of you enough for your service in 
the Galadhrim through the years, and I wish you all the best."
 
The brothers bowed to the departing Lord of ‘Lórien, before Rúmil seized 
Haldir roughly beneath the arms and yanked him to his feet. Keeping one 
eye on Celeborn as he went to bid farewell to the other bystanders, he 
lowered his head to whisper something in the younger Elf's ear whilst his 
back was turned; his face paled at the words with fear creeping back into 
his hazel eyes. Celeborn then turned again to the brothers, motioning for 
them to follow him, along with Haldir, to his horse. As he looked over his 
shoulder, however, he caught the eye of the youngest Elf positioned 
between the two brothers and frowned slightly, noticing for the first time 
how similar Haldir looked to Rúmil and Orophin. He shrugged it off 
nonetheless, reminding himself that it was not uncommon for Elves to 
appear alike, and instead busied himself with his waiting horse.
 
~~~
"Tula sinome!" hissed Orophin into his ear as he tugged on his arm, and 
Haldir found himself wishing, not for the first time, that he could at least 
understand some Elvish. His head was light from whatever drugs had been 
forced down his throat and his body parts were not completely under his 
control, making it even more difficult for him to obey what he did not 
know was being asked of him; he discovered that soon enough, however, 
as he was dragged by one arm into the unfamiliar clearing, filled with tall, 
fair Elves, all surrounding one whom he did not recognise, standing in 
front of a throne. He assumed this Elf to be of some importance so he 
dutifully lowered his eyes as he concentrated on merely placing one 
disobedient foot in front of the other, although not before noticing that 
Rúmil had been standing next to the important Elf and was now 
approaching him. He did not know why he was surprised.
 
Although the Men with whom he was familiar had taught him not to resist 
superiority, and to always be submissive, he could not help but make a 
feeble attempt to escape the harsh grip of the two brothers as they forced 
him to his knees before the tall, fair Elf. It was all to no avail, of course, 
and his efforts only served for the brothers to tighten their grip on his arms 
so that he was certain to have bruises there the next day. Yet more to add 
to his collection, he thought absently.
 
He kept his eyes firmly fixed on the floor, knowing that it was improper 
for him to look directly at someone who was obviously of a high position, 
as this Elf seemed to be, but then started when he felt two fingers brush 
past his jaw and gently but firmly lift his chin, so that he was compelled to 
raise his eyes. He could feel his face burning with embarrassment, for he 
knew that he should not be looking at his superior in such a manner, yet he 
did not resist for he knew that it was the important Elf who wished him to 
do so.
 
"Ya naa sina?" The tall important Elf was speaking, and from the tone of 
voice Haldir guessed that it was a question. Orophin replied. "Lye nowe 
lle naaya ereb e' Imladris sii' wanye Elrond Peredhil, aredhelamin. Ro 
nauva mellonle."
 
By this point Haldir had grown accustomed to not being able to 
understand what was being said around him, and could only look at the Elf 
before him in dazed confusion when he spoke directly to him.
 
"Mani naa essa en lle?"
 
Haldir tensed up unconsciously when he was spoken to, for he was afraid 
that he would be punished for not answering, but relief swept over him 
when Rúmil spoke quietly to the other Elf and realisation dawned on his 
face; although he could not hear what had been said, and would not have 
been able to understand even if he could have done, a spark of hope struck 
in his heart when the tall Elf leaned down and spoke to him in the 
language that he could understand.
 
'What is your name, little one?'
 
'Haldir - my name is Haldir," he muttered slowly, having to make a 
supreme effort just to make his tongue obey him, and noticing absently 
that his voice sounded strangely drowsy and his words somewhat run 
together. The tall Elf did not seem to care, however, and continued talking 
to him. 'Well then, Haldir, it appears as though you are to accompany me 
to Imladris.' Imladris. That name sounded vaguely familiar, but in this 
less-than-coherent state Haldir could not think for the life of him where he 
had heard it before.
 
'Can you ride?'
 
He paled at this last question and dropped his eyes again, shaking his head 
sadly. To be able to ride a horse was the one thing that he desired to be 
able to do above all others, save perhaps speaking Elvish, and he knew 
that the Men by whom he had been raised had deliberately not taught him 
either so that it would remain clear that he was to be subservient to others. 
A hand on his shoulder made him look up again, and he found himself 
looking straight into a pair of clear, green eyes that were filled with 
compassion and understanding. 'Do not worry, you shall ride with me.'
 
Haldir's heart leapt at these words as it slowly dawned in his drugged mind 
that he was actually going to leave this place, with this Elf, who seemed to 
understand him, and leave Rúmil and Orophin behind. He made no 
attempt to decipher the stream of Sindarin that was now leaving the tall 
Elf's mouth, instead running these thoughts repeatedly through his mind; 
he was jerked back unceremoniously to reality, however, when Rúmil 
yanked him roughly to his feet by grasping him under his arms, and then 
bent his head to whisper into his ear in not-so-fluent Westron whilst 
squeezing his arm hard, his fingers digging viciously into Haldir's flesh. 
He winced.
 
'I warn you behave, brat,' he hissed, never once taking his eyes from the 
tall, important Elf. 'He can have temper, get very very angry, if not 
careful. You get hurt, then you come back to us. We more than hurt you. 
So remember what you taught, I want not see you again.'
 
He could feel his already pale face drain of colour at this, for the last thing 
that he wanted was to return to Rúmil and Orophin; even the Men had 
treated him better than they had. Fortunately for him the tall Elf had 
finished speaking to the other bystanders and, turning, motioned for them 
to follow him. The grip tightened on his arms yet again as he was led 
towards the waiting horses, but was then reluctantly released when the tall 
Elf placed his hand gently on his shoulder instead. Haldir felt his 
unresponsive body relax automatically when the two brothers stepped 
back from him, and he looked up into the green eyes of the tall Elf, if a 
little guardedly after what Rúmil had told him. He was not certain whether 
to believe him or not, but decided that, for the time being, it would be 
wiser to accept his words as the truth. The other Elf smiled at him 
reassuringly before he spoke to him again.
 
'Have you ever been on a horse before, little one?'
 
Haldir nodded; he had indeed been on a horse before, but one could hardly 
call it riding; he shook his head to clear the unpleasant memories from it, 
then looked up to see a somewhat bemused expression on the tall Elf's fair 
face. He managed a weak smile as he voiced his answer with slurred 
words. 'Yes, once.'
 
The tall Elf smiled again and then walked around so that he was standing 
behind Haldir. 'That is good. You shall ride in front of me; I will give you 
a leg-up.'
 
Haldir frowned in confusion; what was a leg-up? He turned his head so 
that he was looking over his shoulder at the tall Elf, to see that he was 
standing with his back bowed and his fingers linked together, waiting 
expectantly. He must have read the apprehension in Haldir's wide hazel 
eyes, however, for he smiled indulgently and spoke to him in a calm voice. 
'Bend your left leg and put both hands on the front of the saddle; I will lift 
you up, then swing your right leg over the horse's back.'
 
Haldir nodded slowly and nervously lifted his left leg off the floor. The 
tall Elf liked his fingers around his shin and suddenly boosted him off the 
ground; Haldir tried his best to swing his right leg over but found that his 
body was still not responding properly to his commands, and instead 
landed back on the floor in an ungraceful heap. He shut his eyes in shame 
and bowed his head, hearing sniggering coming from Rúmil and Orophin's 
direction, but the tall Elf silenced them with a few words as he offered 
Haldir a hand and helped him to his feet again.
 
"Naa'o dínen. Ta naa i selaib lle one ho; ron poldora ho tyar ve' sina."
 
Haldir looked up warily at the tall Elf and flinched when he extended both 
hand towards him, expecting to be punished for what he had done; instead 
the other Elf merely grasped him firmly around his wait and easily lifted 
him up into the saddle. Haldir blinked in the surprise of suddenly finding 
himself sitting several feet off the ground, and, finding it rather unsettling, 
he clung tightly to the pommel of the saddle with both hands and shut his 
eyes momentarily, only to open them again when he felt the balance of the 
saddle shift slightly and a pair of strong arms snaked around his middle, 
pressing him securely to the firm chest behind him.
 
'Do not worry, I will not let you fall,' came a deep, reassuring voice from 
behind him. 'Just relax and you will be more comfortable.' 
 
Haldir leaned back against the tall Elf's chest and wiggled a little in the 
saddle, trying to become more at ease in this unusual position, but he did 
not release his death-grip on the front of the saddle. A few last words were 
exchanged in Elvish between the tall Elf behind him and the bystanders on 
the ground, before one arm left his waist to take hold of the reins and he 
felt the tall Elf's body move slightly behind him; suddenly the horse below 
them stated moving forwards quite disconcertingly, and he clutched the 
pommel even tighter with one hand whilst he brought the other up to clasp 
the strong arm around his middle. He tensed up again for a few moments 
and closed his eyes again, and the tall Elf held him even more firmly to his 
chest in way of reassurance until he gradually grew used to the steady 
rhythm of the horse beneath him and started to relax a little, wondering 
blearily where he was being taken next.
 
***
 
Elvish Translations: (I have no doubt that these are riddled with 
mistakes, but I have tried my best! Please feel free to correct me if you 
find anything that is wrong.)
 
[Come here]
 
[Who is this?]
 
[We thought that you may be lonely in Imladris now that Lord Elrond has 
left, my lord. He is to be your consort]
 
[Be quiet. It is the drugs that you have given him; they are causing him to 
act like this.]


  ***************
  CHAPTER 2
  ***************
   
  The Ride
   
To Haldir's surprise he soon grew used to the steady movements of the 
horse underneath him and started to relax back against the chest of the tall 
Elf, who was still holding him tightly. He laid his silver head upon the 
strong shoulder and sighed heavily; the deep exhalation must have caught 
the other Elf's attention, because he felt his body move behind him and a 
deep voice came in his ear.
 
'Why the sigh, Haldir? Is anything wrong? Are you uncomfortable? '
 
Haldir felt the planes of the Elf's chest vibrate softly from the deep bass 
tones of his voice and shook his head against it. 'No, nothing is wrong,' he 
replied truthfully, his words still noticeably run-together from the 
sedatives that Rúmil and Orophin had forced upon him. 'I was just 
wondering to myself.'
 
'What were you wondering about?'
 
'Everything.'
 
The Elf laughed softly, sending vibrations rippling down to his stomach 
and through Haldir's back. 'Would you care to be a bit more specific? You 
can talk to me, you know.'
 
Haldir smiled weakly to himself. 'I was wondering who you were,' he 
slurred quietly, almost as if he were talking to himself. 'And where we are 
going, and what is to become of me, and -'
 
The Elf cut him off with another soft laugh, and Haldir tilted his head 
lazily to look up at him. 'One question at a time!' smiled the Elf, looking 
down at him with an amused expression on his face. 'First things first; my 
name is Celeborn. I used to be the Lord of Lothlórien, which is the place 
that we have just left, but I have recently given up my position, after my 
wife sailed to Valinor.'
 
Haldir froze at these words and immediately averted his eyes from those 
of the Elven-lord. 'I am sorry, my Lord,' he muttered, feeling his face flush 
crimson to the tips of his ears. 'I had no idea of your status; I should not 
even be talking to you, let alone look directly at you as I have.'
 
The hand on his waist moved to his jaw line, gently pushing his chin up so 
that he was forced to look up at Celeborn, just as he had when they first 
met. 'Who in Middle Earth has taught you that?' came an incredulous 
voice, the owner of which frowned down at him. He shifted in the saddle, 
suddenly becoming very uncomfortable again, as he replied.
 
'I...I - the Men by whom I was raised,' he murmured, trying to look away 
from the Elven-lord, but a firmer pressure was applied to his chin and he 
was forced to maintain the eye contact. 'It is just what I have been taught, 
ever since I was small.'
 
The brow of the fair Elf looking down at him knitted. 'What else did they 
teach you?' he asked, kindness showing in his voice if not in his face.
 
'That I am inferior and should not resist superiority; I am here to serve 
those above me and should do nothing unless told,' said Haldir 
immediately, repeating words so familiar that they had almost become a 
mantra to him.
 
'And what happened if you disobeyed them?'
 
'I was punished,' replied Haldir simply. He did not want to go into any 
more detail; he had soon learned to do only as he was told, for failing to 
do so would result in him being severely disciplined, and it was extremely 
rare for him to consciously disobey his orders. 
 
Celeborn seemed satisfied with his answer, however, for his face softened 
slightly and he did not probe the matter further. 'Well, I cannot say that 
you will be entirely free once we arrive at Imladris, but you will have 
plenty of liberty and be treated as more of an equal, provided that you 
behave yourself. Yes, you are still to do as you are told, but you do not 
have to do *only* as you are told, and you do not have to worry about 
looking at or speaking to anyone who is above you; you are my consort, 
after all, but you will be treated well and fairly. I hope that this seems 
reasonable.'
 
Haldir smiled up at the Elven-lord and nodded as vigorously as his doped 
muscles would allow him to; he had not expected, by any chance, that this 
would happen. Despite what Celeborn had just told him he would not 
easily forget that he was subservient, and he had up until now, only 
imagined having even the smallest amount of freedom and to be well 
treated. Celeborn smiled at the enthusiastic response, and continued 
talking to him as he released his hold on his chin.
 
'Have you ever been to Imladris before?'
 
'No,' replied Haldir truthfully, 'although I have heard of it. What is it like?'
 
The Elven-lord smiled at him again indulgently and began to speak of the 
city, its history, and of Lords both past and present in a low voice; Haldir 
relaxed again and allowed his bleary mind to wander, lulled by the secure 
feeling of the arm around his waist, the steady rhythm of the horse moving 
below him, and the pleasant thoughts of what awaited him in the beautiful 
place that was being described to him. He laid his head back against 
Celeborn's shoulder once more and closed his eyes, content to listen to the 
deep, calming voice that whispered of his new home into his ear.
 
~~~ 
Celeborn noticed the way that the young Elf in his arms relaxed properly 
for the first time as he began to relate tales of Imladris to him, and the 
smile could be heard in his voice as his mouth worked without any true 
intervention from his wandering mind. He had been shocked to hear the 
admissions from Haldir, and, although the younger Elf was there to be his 
consort, he had every intention of treating him as fairly as the next servant. 
He was, of course, expected to obey orders, but the former Lord of ‘Lórien 
found it incomprehensible to grasp the way in which Haldir had been 
brainwashed into thinking that he was completely subservient; it went 
against all morals to treat another being like that.
 
Eventually he finished speaking, and Haldir lifted his head and opened his 
hazel eyes again, flicking them up to look at the silver-haired Elven-lord. 
'It sounds beautiful,' he sighed, his voice now tainted with notes of 
drowsiness to add to the haze of the sedatives. 'How far away is it? What 
will happen when we get there?'
 
'It will be two more days before we reach Imladris,' responded Celeborn, 
looking kindly at the young Elf and noting his enthusiasm, even despite 
his weariness. 'And there are countless things to do there; you can ride, 
and hunt, and read -'
 
Haldir hung his head and his shoulders slumped as if defeated, his 
unbraided hair falling forwards about his face and creating a glimmering 
curtain of silver that hid his shame. 'I can do none of those,' he murmured, 
and Celeborn noticed that the pointed tips of his ears had flushed bright 
scarlet. 'The Men did not teach me, I know, to make certain that I was 
subservient. I cannot even speak Elvish.'
 
Celeborn's arm tightened around the pitiful creature in front of him 
reassuringly, but the silver head did not lift. 'I shall just have to teach you 
then, won't I?' he said nonchalantly, cocking his head slyly and looking 
straight ahead in the direction that they were riding.
 
Haldir's head snapped up and he whipped around in the Elven-lord's arms, 
fixing wide hazel eyes on him expectantly. 'You mean that you would 
teach me Elvish?' he gasped, the disbelief showing in his voice despite his 
best attempts to disguise it. Celeborn allowed his bright green eyes to flick 
down to the fair young face, smiling upon seeing the newfound hope in the 
beautiful glittering orbs.
 
'Yes,' he replied simply, before adding 'and I suppose I could teach you to 
ride whilst I am at it. What do you think?'
 
He beamed even wider when he saw that the young Elf had actually been 
struck speechless; his mouth was moving but no words were emerging, 
and Celeborn could not help but think how comical the sight was. 
Eventually Haldir gave up on trying to speak, an inane grin spreading 
slowly across his face instead. The Elven-lord merely raised an eyebrow 
and settled the younger Elf back against his chest again, dumbstruck 
himself at how Haldir must have been treated if learning to ride and to 
speak Elvish could mean so much to him.
 
After a while the figure in front of him was starting to become heavy in 
his arms. He yawned widely and his silver head lolled upon Celeborn's 
shoulder, who noticed that the hazel eyes were half-closed by this point.
 
'You look weary, Haldir; do you wish for us to stop?' he murmured quietly 
to the young Elf.
 
'No, I am just being a bother,' came the drowsy reply, soon followed by 
another enormous yawn. 'Besides, I want to get to Imladris.'
 
Celeborn chuckled to himself, surprised yet again by Haldir's attitudes and 
at how easy it was to please him. 'Do not worry, you are not being a 
bother. It is another two days' ride to Imladris yet, and soon we shall need 
to stop for the night anyway.'
 
Haldir turned his round hazel eyes up to the Elven-lord, blinking and 
smiling sleepily. 'I will be fine, I shall stop when you wish to stop.'
 
Celeborn smiled back at him. 'Very well; in that case I wish to stop now. I 
feel that it would be best for you to get some rest, before you fall both fast 
asleep and off this horse!' He then turned in his saddle as much as he could 
and called back to the rest of their small company in Elvish.


A/N: Uh, just re-read the appendix in ROTK. Seems that I've neglected to 
notice that Celeborn went to Mirkwood and reigned there for a while 
before he went to Imladris. Let's ignore that fact, too...
 
Oh, and by the way, this chapter is crap. Sorry.
 
***************
CHAPTER 3
***************
 
"Ta mori natula - amin nowa lye daruva sinome."
 
Haldir looked up at Celeborn as he spoke. 'What did that mean?' he asked 
expectantly, eager to understand some of what was being said around him.
 
The Elven-lord laughed softly at the question. 'I can see that you are keen 
to begin your studies, aier; that meant, "it is getting dark - I think that we 
will stop here tonight".'
 
Haldir felt his cheeks colour again slightly. 'And aier; what did that 
mean?"
 
'It means "little one". Come; there will be plenty of time for lessons when 
we reach Imladris. I do not know about you, but at the moment I am 
hungry and wish to eat, and I think that you should also get some rest and 
sleep off those drugs that you have been given.'
 
The younger Elf nodded sheepishly in agreement and averted his eyes in a 
forlorn, embarrassed manner, but was unable to suppress another gaping 
yawn. Celeborn laughed again as he squeezed the reins between his 
fingers, and the horse drew to a halt.
 
'By the Valar, Haldir! If I did not know better I would say that you were 
trying to swallow us all up!' he jested, swinging his right leg over the 
horse's back and jumping gracefully onto the soft grass at his feet. 'Let me 
help you down,' he offered, extending both arms up to the younger Elf. 
'Lean forwards, then swing your right leg over the top of the saddle and 
slide to the ground, as I have just done.'
 
Strong hands wrapped around Haldir's slim waist to steady him as he 
nervously did as he was instructed, and supported him whilst he slid to the 
floor. He relaxed again at finding his feet back on solid ground and looked 
about him, blinking dazedly; the sudden unwinding of his muscles was 
enough to set him swaying a little as he finally realised just how weary he 
was and he reached out one hand almost instinctively to help balance 
himself, only to find himself grasping Celeborn's shoulder. 
 
He paled, drew breath sharply over his teeth and snatched his hand back, 
turning his wide hazel eyes, filled with the irrational fear brought on by 
the heightened emotions of fatigue, up to the Elven-lord's fair face. To his 
utter amazement Celeborn smiled at him kindly and his sparkling jade 
orbs filled with compassion; suddenly Haldir felt a strong, steadying arm 
creep around his shoulders, pulling him close to his side, and the former 
Lord of ‘Lórien's deep voice sounded close to his ear.
 
'I do not think that those drugs have quite worn off yet, aier; come with 
me and I shall get you something to eat whilst we set up camp, and then 
you shall go straight to sleep.'
 
Haldir nodded drowsily in agreement, although the words had not truly 
sunken in for he was fast falling asleep on his feet by this point. 'What do 
you want me to do?' he slurred, forced purely by habit when he heard 
something about setting up camp.
 
'What do I want you to do?' purred the low voice, and Haldir could detect 
touches of incredulity even in his semi-conscious state. 'I want you to eat 
something and go to sleep.'
 
'But what about the camp?' he protested weakly. 'You cannot be expected 
to set it up; that is what I am here for. And...the horses, what about the 
horses?'
 
His minor objection was succeeded by yet another huge yawn, and this 
time his eyes became vacant for a moment or two.
 
'Look at yourself, Haldir; you are so tired, not to mentioned sedated to the 
back teeth, that you can barely stand. To be honest I think that you would 
be more of a hindrance than a help, so I suggest that you do as you are 
told.'
 
The younger Elf was too incoherent by now to be able to perceive the 
obvious jesting tone in the Elven-lord's voice, and nodded mutely whilst 
averting his eyes, humiliated, to the floor.
 
'And do not concern yourself with the horses,' continued the Elven-lord, 
who had clearly failed to notice Haldir's misunderstanding of his last 
remark, 'they are Elven and unlike those of Men. Once they are untacked 
they will take care of themselves, and will not stray from the campsite.'
 
On saying this a thought struck him, and he turned to call to another Elf 
from their company. "Merthol, roch-nîn, saes. Haldir anta est. Amin 
me'uva naur."
 
"Uma, heruamin." The other bowed courteously and started removing the 
Elven-lord's horse's saddle and bridle whilst Haldir was led towards the 
clearing where they had decided to spend the night. Celeborn stopped and 
released his shoulders by a large tree at the edge of the glade and motioned 
for the younger Elf to sit, which he did gratefully and leaned against the 
trunk. The Elven-lord set about gathering fallen sticks and branches and 
piles of dead leaves, enough to start a small fire, and piled them in the 
middle of the clearing. He then took a small box from the pouch hanging 
at his belt and drew out two flints, which he used to skilfully set fire to the 
dry kindling.
 
Haldir drowsily watched the scene in front of him with quiet fascination as 
the remainder of their company joined them one by one; here was an Elf 
of very high status starting a fire for their camp himself, when he could 
easily order any of the people around him to do so instead. He blearily 
shook his silver head and laid it against the tree trunk behind him, still 
watching the scene with interest even as everything began to go blurry and 
the fluent streams of Elvish that was being spoken around him merged into 
a pleasant buzz before fading out altogether.
 
                                                        ~~~
 
Celeborn looked up from the fire once it was lit, and smiled to see that 
Haldir had fallen asleep against the tree. His round hazel eyes were 
completely vacant, his silver head lolled against the bark of the trunk, and 
there was a surprisingly serene expression gracing his fair features. The 
tall Elven-lord walked over to where his pack had been left and extracted a 
large blanket from it, spreading it on the ground a little way away from the 
fire, but close enough so that it was well within the range of its heat, 
before moving to the edge of the clearing where the younger Elf was 
sitting, propped against the tree-trunk.
 
He knelt down beside the slumbering Elf and gathered the slender frame 
into his arms, lifting him easily and bearing him the short distance to the 
blanket where he laid him gently down and covered him with the fabric. 
Haldir sighed happily and shifted a little under it, turning onto his side and 
muttering softly to himself under his breath; Celeborn smiled to himself 
and absently ran his hand over the silken silver hair, smoothing over any 
errant strands, before getting to his feet again and setting about aiding with 
dinner.
 
Celeborn glanced over at Haldir once more as he sat down to eat; the 
young Elf was still sleeping soundly, and had not stirred all evening 
despite the cheerful chatter and laughing that had surrounded him. The 
silver-haired Elven-lord's brow furrowed as he considered waking him, 
since he had no idea of when Haldir had last eaten, but he looked so 
peaceful as he slept that he decided against it. He had been shooed away 
from the fire as dinner was prepared, the other Elves insisting that he had 
had a hard ride with Haldir and had built the fire to start with, so instead 
he sat back and idly watched them cook the food, occasionally joining in 
with their casual conversations.
 
All fell silent as they ate, hungry as they were after the day's long ride, and 
soon after they had finished they began to set up their beds for the night. 
Celeborn sat quietly throughout until he was the last left awake, save the 
night watchman who was sitting a short distance away, unable to keep his 
bright jade eyes from flicking over to where Haldir was sleeping on the 
other side of the fire. He was young, without a doubt; definitely not much 
older than perhaps five or six hundred years, although his face held years 
of wisdom that he had not witnessed in many much elder Elves. There was 
a certain air about him, suggesting that he had experienced much in his 
short life; it was mysterious, and there were elements of both years of 
hardship and stories untold entwined within.
 
Despite this, however, his face was stunning whilst relaxed so peacefully 
in slumber; his skin was smooth and fair and his round, vacant eyes were 
an unusual shade of bright hazel, all offset by the long, unbraided, hair that 
flowed around his shoulders in a river of silver, glistening in the 
moonlight. Almost as if he knew Celeborn was watching him, the young 
Elf sighed softly and rolled onto his side again so that he was now facing 
the tall Elven-lord, and smiled a little. This minute change in expression 
made all the difference, for Celeborn was made suddenly aware of both 
the innocence and vulnerability now lucidly visible in the young face. He 
sighed to himself, wondering what story Haldir had to hide, and set about 
preparing himself for bed.
 
TBC
 ***
Elvish Translations:
 
Ta mori natula - amin nowa lye daruva sinome - It is getting dark - I think 
that we will stop here tonight.
 
 aier - little one
 
 Merthol, roch-nîn, saes. Haldir anta est. Amin me'uva naur. - Merthol, 
my horse, please. Haldir needs to rest. I will light a fire.
 
Uma, heruamin - yes, my lord


***************
CHAPTER 4
***************
 
The Morning
 
Celeborn looked over to where Haldir was still sleeping; the camp was 
almost packed up and they would be leaving shortly, so he decided that it 
was time the young Elf awoke. He walked over to the inert form lying 
under the blanket on the grass and knelt beside him, placing a hand on his 
shoulder and shaking him gently, whilst softly calling his name.
 
'Haldir? 'Tis time to wake up, aier.'
 
The young Elf rolled onto his side so that he was facing away from the 
Elven-lord, then turned back again. This time his round hazel eyes had 
returned to their deepened, more alert state, and he blinked sleepily before 
sitting up and looking around him. He yawned.
 
'Morning, Haldir,' smiled Celeborn, sitting back on his heels. 'Feeling 
better today?'
 
Haldir nodded slowly and passed both hands over his face, rubbing his 
eyes as he went, ere he replied. 'Yes, thank you,' he smiled back. 
 
Celeborn was pleased to notice that, despite the sleep that still lingered in 
his voice, his words were not slurred as they had been yesterday, 
indicating that the drugs had finally worn off. He cocked his head and 
regarded the younger Elf with interest, intrigued by the untold that 
surrounded him. Haldir merely blinked at him sleepily again and looked 
up; then their eyes locked for the briefest of moments, jade flashing with 
hazel, and Celeborn suddenly felt a jolt down to his stomach at the 
swirling emotions and secrets eddying within the fathomless orbs.
 
A low growl brought them both back to reality, and Haldir averted his 
eyes ashamedly and placed a hand across his stomach. 'You must be 
famished, aier,' said Celeborn, shaking his head briefly to clear it. 'You 
fell asleep before dinner last night and I was reluctant to wake you, and I 
know not when the last time you ate was. Come, let me get you some 
breakfast before we depart.'
 
'Do not go to too much trouble,' murmured Haldir, still looking at the 
grass. 'I shall be alright.' 
 
Celeborn frowned at him, taking in for the first time just how slender the 
young Elf was; how could he have failed to see it before? 'No, you need to 
eat,' he insisted firmly, fixing Haldir with his brilliant green gaze so that 
he was compelled to look up and into his face. 'You are too thin. And it is 
not too much trouble at all,' he continued, cutting off the other Elf who 
was still sitting on the grass and had opened his mouth to speak. 'Tell me 
truthfully; when was the last time you ate?'
 
Haldir's voice was quiet as Celeborn wandered over to the fire to gather 
some food, but his finely tuned Elven hearing picked it up nonetheless. 
'Well, I was given some breakfast the day before yesterday...'
 
The Elven-lord's head snapped round at this, shocked. 'Was that the last 
time anyone gave you something to eat?' he asked incredulously. Haldir 
nodded. 'No wonder you are so thin,' he murmured, returning to the 
younger Elf's side with some bread, dried meat, hard cheese and two 
wafers of lembas, along with a cup of water, and handing them down to 
him. Haldir's eyes went wide when he saw the food that he had been 
given, and took the plate and cup. He looked up at Celeborn in question; 
the Elven-lord nodded at him, smiling, then turned away to allow him to 
eat although still keeping one eye on him, watching with interest as he 
gulped down the water and bolted the food, and continued packing up the 
camp.
 
~~~
 
Haldir felt quite sick as he stood up holding the now empty plate and cup, 
and felt ominous twinges in his stomach. He set the contents of his hands 
back on the ground and pressed his palms against his abdomen, trying to 
alleviate the discomfort, but to no avail; suddenly he felt his inner stomach 
muscles contract in warning, and he rushed off into the trees at the edge of 
the clearing where he promptly emptied the contents of his belly.
 
Weakened by the heaving he sank to his knees, arms still wrapped around 
his abdomen, when he felt warm, strong hands on his shoulders and gentle 
fingers sweep his silver hair away from his face.
 
'I think that that may have been a bit more than your stomach could cope 
with, if you truly have not eaten for two days,' came the deep, familiar 
voice in his ear, the owner of which had started to rub small, calming 
circles on his back with the palm of one hand. Haldir relaxed slightly and 
nodded, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand before he turned to 
look at the Elven-lord.
 
'Come with me and I shall give you a little water and some lembas,' 
suggested Celeborn kindly. 'Something simple that your stomach can deal 
with easily, for it would not do to have you vomiting on top of my horse, 
now, would it?'
 
Haldir felt his cheeks burning. 'No, I am sorry,' he murmured quietly and 
quickly looked away as he usually did in such situations. No sooner had he 
done so, however, than he felt his chin being lifted again by two strong 
fingers and found himself looking into the Elven-lord's brilliant jade eyes 
again.
 
'Do not be sorry,' insisted Celeborn, locking his eyes onto Haldir's as he 
had done so, and the younger Elf suddenly felt electric tingles skitter down 
his spine for the second time that morning. So absorbed was he in the 
enchanting depths of the emerald orbs that he completely missed what the 
Elven-lord said next, and was jolted awake again when he realised that he 
was waiting for an answer. He merely nodded again, unable to remember 
what had been said; this seemed to satisfy Celeborn, however, for he stood 
up and held out a hand to help Haldir do the same.
 
~~~
 
At least Haldir had managed to keep down the small amounts of lembas 
and water that he had given him, mused Celeborn as their company drew 
to a halt for the night once more. He had also managed to get on the horse 
by means of a leg-up this time, too, now that the effects of the drugs had 
abated, and had taken great delight in steering the horse for a short while 
when he had allowed him to hold the reins. He managed to dismount the 
horse in what could almost be called a graceful manner, and looked 
decidedly more cheerful in comparison to yesterday.
 
Again Celeborn refused to allow him to participate in the setting up of the 
camp, mainly because he was unable to communicate with the rest of their 
company, and insisted instead that he sat at the edge of the clearing whilst 
dinner was prepared. Celeborn noticed how he watched intently, his now 
bright and alert hazel eyes flicking from Elf to Elf and task to task as he 
watched the way in which each helped the other, and had to shake himself 
mentally several times when he caught himself staring at the silver-haired 
figure leaning against a tree.
 
Haldir managed to stay awake for dinner this time, although Celeborn had 
to encourage him to sit away from the trees and closer to the rest of the 
group. The tall Elven-lord was secretly pleased when Haldir crept up to sit 
close to him, although he did not know why he should feel so, but this 
time he made certain that the younger Elf did not eat too much, and even 
then only simple food. 
 
That night also passed uneventfully, and the company rose early the next 
morning with hopes of reaching Imladris by nightfall. Again Celeborn 
allowed Haldir to take the reins for a short while, and began to tell him the 
very basics of riding a horse. He was quietly amused to see the way in 
which the younger Elf's brow furrowed and he worried at his bottom lip in 
concentration, so determined was he to master equitation, and mused that 
he could possibly prove one of the best pupils he had had the pleasure of 
teaching when it came to the lessons in Elvish.
 
As dusk threatened its approach Celeborn could tell that Haldir was 
growing tired again for his shoulders began to sag slightly and he became 
heavier in the saddle, and he leaned forwards to whisper in his ear.
 
'Are you getting tired, aier? Perhaps I should take the reins now.'
 
Haldir shook his head sleepily. 'No, I want to ride!' he insisted, making 
Celeborn laugh softly at how childish his voice sounded.
 
'Very well, very well,' he conceded, a small smile spreading across his 
fair, attractive features. 'But only if you take up more contact on Hwesto's 
mouth, else...'
 
He was not given the chance to finish speaking, however; it was almost as 
if he had tempted fate, for a sudden movement in the bush to one side of 
them startled all the horses, causing them to shy sideways before taking 
off at a swift canter. Haldir froze in the saddle, shocked, but Celeborn 
remained calm and swiftly took the reins from him with one hand whilst 
wrapping his free arm tightly around his waist and pulling him close to his 
chest, at the same time speaking calmly to the frightened animal, knowing 
that he would pay heed to his voice whilst his hands were otherwise 
occupied.
 
"Tulunka, Hwesto, lenko horthalle, lenko horthalle."
 
Eventually the stallion slowed in the canter, and eventually broke into a 
trot and then a walk as the Elven-lord's voice alone calmed him. As they 
drew to a halt and the other members of their company managed to pull up 
around them, Haldir laid his head back on Celeborn's shoulder and sighed 
in relief; the Elven-lord instinctively pulled him closer, suddenly feeling 
another jolt in his stomach as he did so, and bowed his head to speak 
again, this time calming the younger Elf with his voice as opposed to the 
horse.
 
'Do not worry, aier, we are almost there,' he murmured soothingly in his 
ear, 'Hwesto just spooked at something in the bushes back there. Perhaps I 
should take the reins for the rest of the journey, though?'
 
Haldir nodded mutely against his shoulder and heaved a sigh, fatigue 
having crept up on him once again. Celeborn smiled down at him, unseen, 
and tightened his arm around his waist as he urged the horse forwards for 
the last hour of their journey.
 
TBC
 
Elvish Translations:
 
Tulunka, Hwesto, lenko horthalle, lenko horthalle - steady, Hwesto, slow 
down, slow down
 

Ilye
"Come carpe diem, baby" ~Metallica~

**************  
CHAPTER 5  
************** 

The Surprise 

Haldir was awestruck by the splendour of Imladris. The forest encircling 
the city were filled with widely varied species of both flora and fauna, all 
beautiful to behold; the younger Elf's snapped from side to side as he tried 
to absorb the surroundings that were dappled in the light of dusk that 
seeped through the canopy of leaves above them. Never before had he 
seen nature such as this, for although the mallorn trees of Lothlórien 
appeared equally as beautiful to the eye, there was not the same variety as 
that which enveloped the city. 

Celeborn's deep voice came in his ear once again, and Haldir felt the bass 
tones of his words vibrating from his chest and into his back. 'It is 
beautiful, isn't it, aier?' he murmured. Haldir nodded in reply, hazel eyes 
still wide, and at a loss for what to say. Celeborn laughed softly. 'Then 
wait until you see the house,' he promised, causing feelings of anticipation 
to rise in the younger Elf's stomach. 

When the house eventually came into view, however, Haldir turned his 
head to look up at the elder Elf. 'Is that it?' he asked quietly. 

'Yes; why do you ask?' 

'No reason...just I found the forest much more beautiful than the building, 
and you told me to wait until I saw it,' he replied tentatively, unwilling to 
go against the silver-haired Elven-lord's opinion even now, despite his 
kindness and encouragement to speak his mind a little more. When his 
words were met by another deep laugh, however, he averted his eyes again 
shamefacedly, cheeks burning and ears tinged crimson through his silky 
silvery hair. 

The laughter stopped when Celeborn noticed this, and Haldir felt arms 
tighten around his middle reassuringly. 'I am sorry, Haldir, I was not 
laughing at you,' he insisted, and the younger Elf uncertainly turned his 
hazel eyes on the Elven-lord in way of question. The jade orbs that met 
them were filled with compassion, and Celeborn smiled down at him 
kindly. 'You should never judge a book by its cover, aier; wait until you 
are inside the building.' 

Haldir relaxed slightly, realising that he was not being mocked, and 
managed a forced smile back at the Elven-lord. He sighed wearily, then; 
the long journey had exhausted him, combined with the entirely new 
experience that had been thrust upon him. The arm around his waist 
moved so that it was now lying across his chest, and the hand was raised 
so that the thumb could reassuringly caress his cheek for a moment. Haldir 
closed his eyes and relaxed even more, enjoying the new, unaccustomed 
sensation of being comforted, and when the hand moved back to his 
middle he found that he had unconsciously leaned into the touch. 

The absence of the fingers to the side of his face was soon replaced by the 
presence of another, as the Elven-lord behind him leaned forwards so that 
he could whisper to Haldir. ' 'Tis alright, we are almost there,' he 
murmured, and Haldir felt warm, damp breath ghost past his cheek as 
Celeborn spoke to him. 'You must be weary, though, aier,' he continued, 
still in the same kind, caring, concerned tone of voice, 'and it is my mind 
that you should go straight to bed once we arrive.' 

He paused. 'After some dinner, of course,' he then said, having thought for 
a moment; then, amidst his words, he gently brought his lips to the 
delicate pointed tip of Haldir's ear, and kissed it tenderly and deliberately. 
Haldir gasped at this sensation and shuddered within the Elven-lord's 
embrace, but Celeborn had drawn back as though nothing had happened 
and was finishing his sentence. 'You are still too thin, and I should hate to 
see one as beautiful and innocent as you waste away. It would be a great 
shame.' 

*** 

Haldir had been shocked and astounded and slightly unnerved when 
Celeborn had kissed his ear and told him that he was beautiful, although 
he had unarguably relished the highly pleasurable sensations educed from 
such tender contact on such sensitive skin. The last few minutes of the 
journey had been passed in silence, for the Elven-lord had acted as though 
nothing had happened, and Haldir himself had been both too tired and too 
bewildered to say or act otherwise. 

His mind had swiftly been removed from that incident, however, as soon 
as he had been helped down from Hwesto and led into the entrance halls 
of what he had heard called the Last Homely House. The breath left his 
lungs when he saw the foyer; they had been painted so that they exactly 
resembled the forest that surrounded the city. Intricate details covered the 
plaster, from the different specks of colour on the bark of a tree to the 
veins on a leaf and the light that dappled through them. Assorted animals 
could be depicted between the trees and hidden in the foliage, flowers 
decorated both the branches and the ground, every petal being finished to 
perfection, and through the trunks an image of the waterfall could be seen, 
gleaming and catching the light as it tumbled into the deep, dark pool 
below. 

He stood, motionless, in the centre of the entrance hall with his wide hazel 
eyes transfixed to the walls, whilst the remaining members of their 
company greeted the residents of Imladris; a hand on his shoulder jolted 
him out of his reverie, and a light, musical voice sounded. 

"Lle tyava quel? Mani naa essa en lle? Amin ú'omente lle n'ala." 

He looked up at the one who was speaking to him with wide, confused 
hazel eyes, since he could not understand what was being said to him, and 
then looked around in confusion for Celeborn. The other dark-haired Elf, 
the one who had spoken to him, had obviously also been confused, for he 
called out to the fair Elven-lord, who Haldir then spied standing on the 
opposite side of the foyer and conversing with another dark-haired Elf. 

"Celeborn? Ya naa sina? Ro tyava quel?" 

Celeborn glanced over at Haldir and his face softened. He said a few last 
words to the Elf whom he was talking to, who nodded, presumably in 
agreement, and followed the silver-haired Elven-lord across the hall. 
Relief crossed Haldir's features when Celeborn smiled down at him 
reassuringly, and said a few soft words to the first dark-haired Elf. 

"Uma, tanya naa Haldir. Ro naa en er tel'lye." 

Whatever he had said made the first Elf smile, and he immediately offered 
a hand to Haldir. "Mae govannan, Haldir," he said, the soft, lilting tones 
of his voice breaking easily through the garbled chatter that surrounded 
them and filled their ears. "Ess'amin naa Elladan. Creoso an Imladris." 

Haldir gave him another bewildered look, then turned his eyes upon 
Celeborn. The fair Elf chuckled quietly to himself at the impatience of the 
dark before he spoke again. 

"Edain orthae ho, Elladan, ro quena ú i'lambe tel' Eldalie. Rúmil ar' 
Orophin one amin; ro naa mellonamin." 

Realisation had dawned on the face of the first Elf. "Nan' quena i'lambe 
tel' Westron, amin intya?" 

Celeborn nodded as he replied and smiled back, partly at the first Elf and 
partly at Haldir, the younger Elf noticed. 

"Uma, quena i'lambe tel' Westron. Ro istimuva quen i'lambe tel' Eldalie 
ar' sut nor rocchor re'na e' Imladris." 

The next thing Haldir knew, the first Elf had taken his hand and shaken it 
firmly, whilst speaking a fluent stream of Westron to him. 'Welcome to 
Imladris, Haldir; I am Elladan, and this is my brother, Elrohir.' 

He gestured to the dark-haired Elf with whom Celeborn had been 
conversing earlier; he smiled kindly at Haldir, although still quietly 
standing slightly behind Celeborn. Haldir looked over to him, and his 
hazel eyes widened as he did a double take. His head snapped from one 
side to the other in amazement, comparing the mirror images standing on 
either side of him, and three deep, musical laughs sounded around him. 

'Yes, we are twins,' continued Elladan, still smiling. 'We are the Lords of 
Imladris.' 

Haldir stiffened at this last comment and went to bow as he instinctively 
looked down at the floor, but a strong hand tightening around his shoulder 
prevented him from doing so. 

'No, aier,' warned Celeborn gently, 'remember what I have told you.' 
Haldir straightened again at this, although still keeping his gaze fixed on 
the floor; Elladan chuckled softly to himself and clapped the fair young 
Elf on the shoulder. 'You must make yourself at home here, Haldir. You 
are going to be living here for the foreseeable future, after all. Now, I 
expect that you are both weary and hungry from your journey; come, let us 
get you all some dinner and then you will be shown to your rooms.' 

Haldir looked up, and swiftly discovered that Celeborn and Elladan had 
vanished. He looked around anxiously, scanning the small crowd in the 
foyer, when he felt a hand on his shoulder. He turned his head and found 
himself peering into the liquid, chocolaty depths of Elrohir's 
compassionate eyes. 

'It appears that we have been abandoned, little one,' he smiled kindly, and 
Haldir found himself smiling back at the dark-haired Elven-lord. 'Come, 
follow me and I shall get you some food.' 

Haldir nodded in agreement, deciding that he liked this twin, and had 
taken only a few steps after him before he turned back to speak to him 
again, although this time with a definite knowing gleam in his eyes. 

'Oh, and Haldir?' 

Haldir looked at him in confusion. 'Yes, my lord?' 

'Look up.' 

Haldir cast his hazel eyes towards the ceiling after flashing the dark-haired 
Elf a somewhat bewildered glance, and gasped. The ceiling had been 
bewitched to resemble the sky, and at this moment was merging from pink 
into deep blue to match the sunset outside; bright stars could be seen 
gleaming in the higher, darker parts of the arched roof, and near the 
bottom of the western side the last still-golden rays of sunlight were 
fingering their way up to meet them. 

'So now do you see why Celeborn told you not to judge the house from the 
outside?' laughed Elrohir, breaking Haldir's momentary spellbound state 
and laying an arm around his shoulder. 'Come; dinner, then bed! You shall 
have plenty of time to haze at the ceiling when you are well-fed and well-
rested.' 

The younger silver-haired Elf nodded wordlessly, finally completely 
bewildered and overwhelmed by the surprises and secrets of that day that 
had left him totally drained and exhausted, and allowed himself to be 
escorted to the dining hall. 

~~~ 

Close to fifteen Elves were sitting around the table centred in the dining 
hall, comprising the remainder of their company that had travelled from 
‘Lórien, the two twins and both Celeborn and Haldir themselves, in 
addition to a few others whom Celeborn did not recognise, but assumed 
were permanent residents in the house. Haldir had been sandwiched 
between Elrohir and himself when they had arrived in order to make him 
feel a little more at ease, since he seemed to have taken a liking to the 
younger twin even in the short time that they had been at Imladris; it 
seemed to have worked, for the young silver-haired Elf was leaning 
contentedly against the high back of his chair with his hands folded across 
his abdomen. His captivating hazel eyes were ever so slightly glazed over 
as he focused on nothing in the middle distance, seemingly obliviously 
unaffected by the incessant Sindarin chatter that surrounded him 

Haldir then sighed wearily and caught Celeborn's attention. He finished 
his conversation and turned towards him at the same time as Elrohir did, 
and both Elven-lords gazed down at the younger Elf, smiling kindly. 

'I think it is time that you went to bed, don't you, aier?' murmured the 
former Lord of ‘Lórien to the fair young Elf. Haldir sighed wearily in 
response and nodded. 

Elrohir laughed softly. 'Yes, I agree. Come on, little one, let us show you 
to your chambers.' 

All three stood up, with a few murmured words of apology from the elder 
Elves to those who remained sitting at the table, and left the dining hall. 
The two fair Elves followed the dark as he led them up flights of stairs and 
along quiet passageways, until he finally stopped outside a closed door. 

'This is your room, Haldir; everything that you need is already in there.' 
Haldir smiled gratefully and stifled a yawn, and Celeborn and Elrohir 
grinned. 'I shall not keep you from slumber any longer, little one; I should 
be getting back to dinner, anyway. Sleep well, and I shall see you in the 
morning.' 

Haldir smiled again, and Celeborn placed a hand on his shoulder. "Diola 
lle, Elrohir, amin yanwuva rato." 

Elrohir raised an eyebrow pointedly with a sidelong glance at Haldir, 
which Celeborn caught and shook his head. "N'uma, n'sina dome," he 
muttered, equally as pointedly and tightening his hand around the younger 
Elf's shoulder. "Amin yanwuva rato." 

The dark-haired Elven lord nodded in acceptance. "Sai'thel, amin eleuva 
rato." He smiled and patted Haldir on the upper arm once more before he 
turned and walked back the way they had come. Celeborn smirked after 
him in quiet amusement and then looked back down at the fair young Elf, 
who seemed unaware of the entire exchange. Just as well, since he cannot 
understand it anyway, thought the silver-haired Elven-lord, as he placed a 
hand on Haldir's back and ushered him into the bedroom. 

*** 

Elvish Translations: 

Lle tyava quel? Mani naa essa en lle? Amin ú'omente lle n'ala - Are you 
well? What is your name? I have not met you before. 

Celeborn? Ya naa sina? Ro tyava quel? - Celeborn? Who is this? Is he 
well? 

Uma, tanya naa Haldir. Ro naa en er tel'lye - Yes, that is Haldir. He is one 
of us. 

Mae govannan, Haldir - Well met, Haldir. 

Ess'amin naa Elladan. Creoso an Imladris - My name is Elladan. 

Welcome to Imladris. 

Edain orthae ho, Elladan, ro quena ú i'lambe tel' Eldalie. Rúmil ar' 
Orophin one amin; ro naa mellonamin - he was raised by Men, Elladan, 
he does not speak Elvish. Rúmil and Orophin gave him to me; he is my 
consort. 

Nan' quena i'lambe tel' Westron, amin intva? - But he speaks Westron, I 
presume? 

Uma, quena i'lambe tel' Westron. Ro istimuva quen i'lambe tel' Eldalie ar' 
sut nor rocchor re'na e' Imladris - Yes, he speaks Westron. He will learn 
to speak Elvish and how to ride horses whilst in Imladris. 

Diola lle, Elrohir, amin yanwuva rato - Thank you, Elrohir, I shall join 
you shortly. 

N'uma, n'sina dome - No, not tonight. 

Sai'thel, amin eluva rato - Very well, I shall see you in a moment. 


***************  
CHAPTER 6  
*************** 

The Horse 

Falling asleep on his feet as he had been the night before, Haldir failed to 
notice the splendour of the room in which he was staying until his hazel 
eyes had focused the next morning and he sat up in the huge, soft bed; 
blinking blearily, he looked around the room, slowly awakening and 
absorbing his surroundings in silence. The room was cream and blue, and 
the floor was of a silvery stone that complimented the walls and the 
ornately carved furniture. A beam of golden morning sunlight that 
streamed through a crack in the floor-length curtains opposite the bed 
reflected brilliantly off the flagstones and onto the ceiling, casting dappled 
patterns onto the pale plaster. 

Haldir cast aside the beautifully embroidered bedclothes and stood, 
noticing the elegant sleeping robe that Celeborn had given him to wear the 
night before; he then walked over to the heavy blue velvet drapes, edged 
with silver ribbon, and drew them apart. 

He gasped; he had a balcony! Full-length glass doors showed a small 
rectangular area of stone, surrounded by wrought-iron railings and 
overlooking extensive gardens and the forest. He gingerly turned the silver 
doorknob, although he knew not why he should be feeling so cautious, and 
stepped out onto the silvery flagstones, walking over to lean on the 
railings and gaze upon the breathtaking view. Birds sang sweetly all 
around as he lost himself in the splendour of the setting, and the sun 
gradually appeared above the treetops. 

~~~ 

That was how Celeborn found him at about eleven o'clock, still gazing 
over the edge of the balcony as he leaned on the railings, dressed in his 
sleeping robe and lost in his thoughts. The silver-haired Elven-lord smiled 
to himself as he entered the younger Elf's chambers and saw this, before 
he made his way quietly over to the open windows and leaned against the 
doorframe. 

'Have you been awake for long, aier?' he asked softly. Haldir started, for 
he had not noticed the Elven-lord's presence, and turned around, wide-
eyed; he then relaxed when he saw Celeborn, and smiled back. 

'A while, yes, although I know not how long, exactly,' he murmured shyly, 
his bright hazel eyes darting back and forth, unable as the owner was to 
keep them from the sight below the balcony. 'I was just admiring the 
view.' 

Celeborn grinned and walked over to stand next to the younger Elf, 
placing an arm across his shoulders as they both turned to face the forest 
once more. 'Yes, it is most beautiful,' he agreed, slyly slipping the hand 
that dangled off the younger Elf's shoulder up to gently caress his jaw-line 
as he continued speaking, feigning nonchalance. ' I thought that perhaps 
we could take a ride through it today.' 

Haldir's head snapped round. 'Really?' he asked earnestly, worrying at his 
bottom lip in anticipation. Celeborn noted idly that this must be a little 
idiosyncrasy of the handsome younger Elf, and raised a delicate golden 
eyebrow. 

'If you wish to, yes.' He pursed his lips together, trying not to smile 
himself when a brilliant grin lit up Haldir's already attractive features, 
positively illuminating his face. 'We could even find you your own horse, 
if you feel confident enough.' 

Haldir practically exploded; his mouth opened and closed several times, 
but he was so overwhelmed that no words came out. Celeborn could not 
help grinning at this, and ruffled his silken, silvery hair affectionately 
before he took a step backwards. 

'Come on then, you had better get dressed!' he exclaimed when Haldir did 
not follow him, instead standing dumbly by the railings. 'I will find some 
clothes for you; get washed in the meantime. I will be back shortly.' 

*** 

When he returned several minutes later, laden with clothes kindly given to 
him by Elrohir, Haldir was sitting anxiously on the bed, still in his night 
robe. 

'Why are you not washed, aier?' questioned Celeborn, raising an eyebrow 
in surprise. 'I thought that you wished to go riding.' 
Haldir dropped his gaze and nibbled at his lower lip in embarrassment. 'I 
am washed,' he murmured softly, so much so that Celeborn had to strain 
his ears to hear. 'I just put this robe back on.' 

'Oh, I see.' Celeborn smiled kindly at the younger Elf's self-consciousness. 

'Do not worry about it. Here, I have some clothes for you to wear.' He held 
out a pair of the burgundy leggings and tunic and the golden shirt; the 
colours of Imladris had been the only clothes available that would have 
fitted Haldir's slim frame. 'Get dressed, then come and find me and I shall 
braid your hair. My room is three doors down, on the other side of the 
corridor.' 

He heard the younger Elf sigh in relief as he handed him the garments and 
turned to leave. I shall have to do something about this self-consciousness, 
he thought to himself. It will make his life so much more difficult than it 
need be. For the moment, however, he dismissed this minor problem, and 
made his way to his own chambers to finish readying himself. 

~~~ 

Haldir timidly knocked on the hard wooden door, and winced as he 
waited. He had already knocked on the wrong door twice in the past few 
minutes - the scarlet evidence of his embarrassment was lucidly showing 
through the screen of his silver hair - and was starting to think that perhaps 
he should spend the rest of the day in his own room instead. 

He wrung his hands nervously as he heard footsteps from inside the room, 
and heaved a sigh of relief when his wide hazel eyes met Celeborn's kind 
jade pair as he opened the door. 

'Ah, Haldir, come in,' he said, his deep, melodic voice soothing the 
younger Elf's frayed nerves, and placed a hand between his shoulder 
blades to usher him in. The tall Elven-lord motioned for Haldir to sit in a 
chair before a mirror and dressing table next to the window. He did so, 
albeit a little uncertainly, sitting rigid and stiff in his seat and still wringing 
his hands. 

Celeborn stepped up behind him and rested one hand on his shoulder, 
using the other to calmingly stroke his flawless cream cheek. 'Relax, aier,' 
he murmured reassuringly as he reached for a brush on the table, and then 
brought it up and gently started to comb through Haldir's soft, silvery hair. 
Haldir had never had his hair brushed by someone else before, but soon 
decided that he liked the sensation as the blunt ends of the wooden teeth 
ran over his scalp, sending pleasurable sensations through his tense body, 
which soon loosened up at the Elven-lord's ministrations. He sighed softly 
and closed his eyes, content to feel the gentle strokes of the brush and then 
the rhythmic motions of Celeborn's fingers as he deftly plaited the silken 
locks back from his face in simple braids. 

The now familiar deep, purring voice cut through his musings, and he 
opened his eyes and focused on the image of the elder Elf standing behind 
him in the mirror. 

'Before I forget to tell you, there is a welcoming feast being held tonight,' 
Celeborn was saying, still concentrating on tying off the last of the braids. 
'It starts at eight o'clock. I shall find you some clean clothes and redo your 
hair, but make sure that you are clean and ready.' He dropped the silver 
twist that he held between his long, slender fingers and stepped back, 
motioning for Haldir to get to his feet. 'Now, shall we go?' 

*** 

Haldir had hardly eaten at the brief breakfast they had taken, so excited 
had he been about the impending ride. Celeborn himself had taken little 
more than some bread and fruit, and the whole affair had taken no more 
that fifteen minutes. 

Now they were making their way to the stables, and it was all Haldir could 
do to refrain from bouncing childishly as they walked or skipping ahead in 
his anticipation. They went into the large barn, and Celeborn led them 
both to one stable containing a sleek bay mare; he opened the half-door 
and entered, speaking quietly to the animal the whole time. 

'This is Sadoriel,' he then said to Haldir, and motioned for him to go into 
the stable too. 'Her name means "faithful" in Elvish; she will take good 
care of you.' 

Haldir nodded but said nothing, instead stepping slowly up to the horse's 
side and extending a hand to stroke her shoulder. Her bright brown coat 
was soft to the touch and glistened under the light falling through the 
skylights in the ceiling, contrasting starkly with the ebony of her mane and 
tail. She turned her head to look round at him as he touched her, and he 
felt strangely drawn in by her deep, dark, gentle eyes that regarded him 
with such understanding. Smiling, he patted the area between her eyes 
with one hand and tickled her nose with the fingers of the other, then 
looked up when he felt a presence at his side. 

Celeborn had obviously slipped out to get the tack whilst he was getting to 
know his mount, for he was holding a bridle in his hand and a saddle was 
sitting on the half-door. He manoeuvred around Haldir and the mare and 
proceeded to slide the bit into her mouth and the bridle over her head, 
checking to make certain that the younger Elf was watching. He was, 
intently at that, keen as he was to learn, and took careful note of which 
straps went where as the Elven-lord fastened the bridle and then put on the 
saddle. 

Once he had finished, he took hold of the reins and spoke to Haldir. 'Come 
with me. I shall get you on first and then come back for my horse.' 

Haldir nodded enthusiastically and grinned when Celeborn led his mount 
out of the barn; he moved to the horse's side as he had learned from their 
journey, and Celeborn gave him a leg-up. He smiled to himself as he sat 
up in the saddle, noticing how, if nothing else, he could now at least get on 
and off with some manner of elegance, and held on tightly to the reins 
whilst waiting for the elder Elf to emerge with Hwesto. 

It did not take long before Celeborn had emerged from the barn, this time 
leading his own horse, and easily swung himself up into the saddle; they 
then set off side-by-side in the direction of the forest. 

As they walked, Celeborn spoke to Haldir about the basics of riding a 
horse; the younger Elf listened fixedly to every word, worrying at his 
lower lip as he tried to take in all that was being said, remember it, and 
concentrate on what he was doing, all at the same time, not to mention 
absorbing the beautiful surroundings, too. 

'We shall only walk for today, but you should learn some Elvish 
commands, too,' said Celeborn. Haldir's heart leapt at this and he grinned 
at the other Elf enthusiastically. 

'Oh, yes please!' he exclaimed, despite himself, and educed a contained 
snort from the Elven-lord at his side. 

'I thought you might say that! Now, the command for halt is "daro"; say it 
and give the aid.' 

Haldir repeated the command, enjoying the way in which the Elvish 
syllables rolled elegantly around his tongue, and at the same time placed a 
small amount of pressure on the reins. "Daro." 

Sadoriel stopped, and he beamed radiantly at Celeborn, who laughed 
again. 'Very good! Now, the command to walk on is "no' vano".' 

Haldir repeated it again, and squeezed the mare's sides gently with his 
heels. "No' vano." Sadoriel obeyed instantly, and they set off walking once 
more. Celeborn had stopped speaking for the moment, and Haldir now 
found that his eyes rather than his ears were drawn to the tall Elven-lord, 
sitting proud upon his horse. Admiration and respect, in conjunction with 
a strong liking for the other Elf welled up inside the younger, and he 
wondered. Why was he bothering with him? Why was he doing what he 
was doing, and taking care of him in this way? Haldir had had more 
attention paid to him in the past few days since he had met Celeborn than 
he had done in the rest of his entire life, and he could not help but 
deliberate on this fact. 

That same deep voice cut through his thoughts once more, as Celeborn 
started to speak to him again. He shook his head to absorb the instructions. 
'We should turn home now; the command to go left is "hyarya", and the 
command for right is "forya". Try one of those, and we shall go back to 
the barn.' 

"Hyarya." At this command, and a little pressure from his left rein and leg, 
Sadoriel turned to the left. Celeborn followed, and they made their way 
back to the house. 

TBC 

Ilye
"Evil is a point of view" ~Lestat~ 


***************  
CHAPTER 7  
***************
 
The Feast 

It was half past seven when Celeborn knocked on Haldir's bedroom door with another 
armful of clean clothes and a hairbrush balanced on top of the pile. There was no answer 
from within, so he turned the handle with one elbow and pushed the door open with his 
foot and quietly entered the room. A smile broke on his face when he saw the younger Elf 
sitting cross-legged upon the bed, frowning at the pages of a large open book in his lap. 

'Where did you find that, aier?' he asked softly. Haldir had obviously been so absorbed in 
what he was doing that he had again failed to notice the Elven-lord's presence, and 
looked up at him with a contained, startled expression on his face. 

'It was on the table over there,' he replied distractedly, gesturing with one hand and 
extending the book with the other so that Celeborn could see. He walked over to the bed 
and sat on the edge, peering at the words with interest. 

'It is Elvish,' he stated unnecessarily, running his fingers lightly over the paper before 
looking back up at the younger Elf. 'Do you understand any of it?' 

Haldir shrugged. 'Very little,' he said, gazing at the pages wistfully and fingering the hard 
spine that bound the manuscript. Celeborn gently reached out to take the book from him 
and closed it, then turned it so that Haldir could see the cover. He traced the fine, golden 
Tengwar impressions on the hard outer shell with one finger. 

'It reads "Ainulindale ar' Valaquenta", which means "The Music of the Ainur and 
Account of the Valar"; it is a collection of tales telling of the creation of Arda and the 
early days of the Eldar in Valinor. Perhaps you could try and read it, once you have had a 
few lessons in Elvish; I feel that it may contain some useful lessons for you.' 

Haldir's stunning face lit up brilliantly at the mention of Elvish lessons, and Celeborn 
wondered again at what pleasure such a seemingly simple thing could bring to him. 
'Really?' he exclaimed, bright hazel eyes wide in excitement. 'When can we start?' 

'Tomorrow, if you wish,' suggested the former Lord of ‘Lórien as he reached out to place 
the book on the table beside the bed and getting to his feet. 'It would appear that the 
sooner we start, the better!' He then turned to pick up the clothes from where he had 
placed them on one corner of the bed and handed them to Haldir. 'But in the meantime 
we have a feast to attend; here, put these on and I will redo your braids.' 

The younger Elf's cheeks reddened slightly at this comment, and he looked up guardedly 
at Celeborn. 'Now?' he questioned softly, nibbling anxiously at his lower lip once more. 
Celeborn raised one eyebrow and regarded him sceptically, knowing full well the reason 
for Haldir's embarrassment. 

'Yes, now.' His voice was insistent, and the younger Elf immediately averted his eyes 
ashamedly when he noted the tone that he had adopted, nodding in comprehension. 
Celeborn sighed; there was that damned self-consciousness emerging again. 

'Do not worry, I shall not look,' he assured him, now placing the pile of clothes in Haldir's 
lap since he had not taken them from him. He then deliberately picked up the book that 
he had left on the nightstand and made his way over to a small table and chair in the 
corner, sitting so that his back was turned to the bed and burying his nose in the pages. 

He could hear Haldir get off the bed and begin to undress; the soft swish of cloth and 
shuffling of feet told him that the younger Elf also had his back turned, and he could not 
help but steal a brief glance over his shoulder. Even though Haldir had his back to him, 
he was still extremely taken by his beauty; his chest and back were bare, the lack of 
clothing displaying immaculate pale skin, stretched over the firm flesh and delicate bones 
that comprised his slender frame. Naturally toned muscles stirred under the creamy 
surface as he reached out to take the burgundy shirt from the bed and slipped it on, its 
soft fabric hanging in all the right places over his body and accentuating his lithe form. 
Nimble fingers flew up the tiny buttons, drawing the gap in the shirt closed over his 
chest; the hands then dropped to below his waist and hesitantly unlaced the leggings, 
pulling them open and away from his slim hips. 

Celeborn instinctively licked his lips, for his mouth had suddenly gone dry, as Haldir then 
slid the thick maroon fabric over his pelvis and down his long, lean legs without even a 
backward glance. Taught, toned buttocks were revealed as the leggings that had covered 
them pooled on the floor around his ankles, and flexed enticingly as Haldir stepped out of 
them and into the clean pair. Something stirred inside him as first fingers and then rich 
maroon cloth brushed past the smooth, velvety skin, and he shook his head violently to 
clear it of the wicked involuntary thoughts that sprang to mind. Haldir now began to 
fasten the laces once more, and he quickly turned his eyes back to the script on the table 
in front of him, though he did not make an attempt to read any of it. 

'Thank you, I am finished.' Haldir's voice was soft and still contained notes of 
embarrassment, but showed no sign that he knew that Celeborn had watched him change. 
It is just as well, thought the Elven-lord to himself. No doubt he would be absolutely 
mortified if he knew. 

He closed the book where it lay on the table and abandoned it there, instead standing up 
and moving back over to the bed where Haldir was just finishing putting on the tunic that 
he had been given. He picked up the hairbrush from where it lay on the bed and motioned 
for Haldir to sit in a chair as he had done earlier that morning. He said nothing as he 
undid the braids that he had created previously and combed out the silken silver locks 
that seemed to obey everything his fingers told them to do, much like their owner; he did 
not trust himself quite yet to say anything that would not spook the younger Elf and let 
him know that he had not kept his promise to keep his eyes averted whilst he dressed. 

Haldir visibly relaxed beneath his attentions, much as he had done that morning, and 
sighed softly when he felt Celeborn tie off the last silver braid and let it fall to his 
shoulder. Round hazel eyes were turned up to meet his own jade pair, gratitude shining in 
the former; the owner of the latter smiled. 

'Come, then, shall we make our way downstairs?' 

~~~ 

Haldir felt himself becoming more and more tense as he followed Celeborn through the 
corridors of Imladris towards the dining halls, for there seemed to be a huge number of 
other people rushing around, all seemingly dressed for the feast; he had not imagined that 
it would be such a large occasion, and felt anxiety creeping up on him at the thought of 
being surrounded by so many unknown people. 

They swept into the dining halls just as the clock was striking eight o'clock - or at least 
Celeborn swept in; Haldir peered nervously through the doorway and faltered, before 
slipping quietly inside and sticking close to Celeborn's side. The tall, silver-haired Elf-
lord was standing next to one of the twins when he found him, although Haldir was 
unsure which brother he was talking to until the dark-haired Elf turned to him and smiled 
kindly, letting Haldir know that it was Elrohir. 

'Good evening, Haldir,' said the twin cheerfully, beaming at him brightly, and the 
younger fair Elf relaxed a little. 'I hear you have had a good day; did you enjoy your 
ride?' 

A smile of his own crept across Haldir's face at this thought. 'Yes, thank you!' he 
murmured shyly, causing both Elven-lords to chuckle softly. 'It was wonderful, I have 
never -- ' 

He was cut off at this point by Elladan, who suddenly appeared at their sides, chattering 
swiftly in Elvish. " 'Quel undome, Celeborn, Haldir, amin estela llie valina. Nan' 
gwador-nîn, lle demade tog mellyn-lye yulnea. Tula, vasa ar’ yulna en i’mereth - malia 
ten' fion?" 

Haldir's brow creased, for he knew that he was being spoken to but could neither 
understand nor reply. He glanced up anxiously at Celeborn, not wishing to appear rude to 
the Elven-lord who had obviously forgotten that he could not speak Sindarin; fortunately 
for him, however, Elrohir nudged his twin in the ribs and whispered to him. "Lle naa 
penmalia, Elladan, lle demade Haldir quena ú i'lambe tel' Eldalie. Nao seasu ar' queno 
Westron." 

Elladan raised an eyebrow pointedly and pursed his lips. "Ro naa'than sarig'mool, 
gwador-nîn, ro thela kai sinome." 

Elrohir frowned at his double, and Celeborn shot him a vicious look whilst placing a hand 
protectively on Haldir's shoulder. The young blond Elf looked around in confusion to see 
what the Elven-lords were arguing about. 

"Tanya nae penante, Elladan," hissed Elrohir, narrowing his eyes. "Kelo; aayo n'at 
i'gwaith sennui." As his brother stalked off in the direction he had come, Haldir saw him 
shoot a meaningful glance at Celeborn from the corner of his dark eyes, before turning to 
the younger Elf and smiling. 'I apologise for that, Haldir,' he sighed, shaking his head 
slowly. 'My brother can be quite the insensitive fool at times. Now; let me get you both 
something to drink before dinner starts.' 

He walked off in an unknown direction, leaving Haldir standing alone with Celeborn for 
the time being. The younger Elf looked up at the elder in question. 'What was that about?' 
he asked curiously, widening his hazel eyes imploringly. The fair Elven-lord shook his 
head. 

'Oh, nothing for you to worry about, aier, just a little sibling rivalry,' he murmured 
distractedly, just as Elrohir returned carrying two cups and handed one to each of the 
blond Elves. Haldir took his and looked into it, intrigued. 

'What is this?' he enquired softly, and immediately found two pairs of incredulous eyes, 
one jade and one chocolate, fixed upon him. 

'It is wine; have you never had wine before?' said Elrohir, disbelief perceptible in his soft, 
musical voice. Haldir shook his head and sniffed the deep purple liquid, inhaling the 
heady aroma. The dark-haired Elven-lord laughed quietly as he then blinked, surprised by 
the effect of the fumes, and took the cup from him. 

'In that case I think I had better add some water to this!' he grinned, and vanished again. 
Celeborn laughed to himself and took a sip of his own drink, just as a voice sounded out 
around the room. 

"Melloneamin, vasa naa tue! Nîn gwador ar' amin utunea llie vasa ar' yulna en 
merethlye!" 

The guests began to make their way to the long table, laden with food, that ran down the 
centre of the room. Celeborn placed a hand on Haldir's back and began to usher him 
towards their seats. 'That meant that dinner is ready,' he said as they walked to their 
places. 'Come, you must be starving!' 

*** 

Haldir leaned back against his chair, satiated and contented. The food had been 
unbelievable, especially since Celeborn had not rationed his portions tonight - or with the 
food, at least. Being unaccustomed to alcohol as he was he was only permitted one glass 
of diluted wine, yet even that had made him feel a little light-headed. It flowed freely for 
the other guests, he noticed, and in particular saw that, despite continuously drinking, 
Celeborn's glass was never empty. He did not complain, however, for there had been 
plenty of other things to occupy his senses, from the exquisite food laid before him, to the 
tasteful decor of the large, spacious dining hall, to the continuous melodic babble of 
Sindarin accompanied by the soft singing of minstrels in the corner. It mattered not to 
him that nobody had spoken a word of Westron to him since the feast had begun as he 
closed his eyes briefly and sighed deeply, folding his hands across his swollen stomach, 
content to merely listen to the surrounding sounds for the time being. 

He was awoken from his reverie, however, by a hand gently shaking his shoulder a few 
moments later, and he lazily opened his eyes to see Celeborn looking down at him. The 
Elven-lord's own eyelids looked as heavy as Haldir's felt, drowsy as he was from the 
wine and the large amount of food that he had consumed, and his deep voice was slightly 
slurred as he spoke. 

'Do you wish to go to bed, aier?' he asked, cocking his head a little as jade eyes met 
hazel. 'I will take you if you wish to go.' 

Haldir yawned as he nodded. 'Yes, please,' he murmured sleepily. 'If you would be so 
kind...' 

Celeborn laughed, although Haldir was uncertain why. 'Oh, of course, of course!' he 
exclaimed, rather loudly in the younger Elf's ear. 'Come on then, upstairs with you!' 
Both fair Elves got to their feet, noticed only by the twins who looked at them 
expectantly. Elladan cleared his throat, catching Celeborn's attention. 

"Saes, lava lye kel," he murmured to the two brothers. Elladan cast a knowing glace at his 
double as he replied. 

"Uma, tanaka, sano vee' sailû vee' llie ant," he replied, a sly smirk creeping across his 
face. Elrohir shook his head at whatever his brother had said, but Haldir had no time to 
decipher the meaning for he was ushered out of the door and into the silent corridor. 
Celeborn led him back the way they had come before until they reached Haldir's 
chambers again; however, instead of stopping outside, Celeborn led him on until they 
were standing outside his own instead. Haldir was about to speak, when he was stopped 
by a hand cupping his cheek. He turned his head back towards Celeborn, surprised, only 
to see the jade orbs that were fixed upon him filled with a strange, slightly unsettling 
emotion that he could not quite define. 

'Has anyone ever told you how beautiful you are?' murmured the elder Elf softly, gently 
caressing Haldir's cheek with his thumb. The hazel eyes went wide, even more so when 
the other hand dropped to rest lightly atop their owner's slim hip, and he gulped and 
shook his head silently, at a loss for words. 

'Very well, then let me be the first; you are very, very beautiful,' purred Celeborn softly, 
and Haldir stiffened unconsciously when he saw the emotion in the Elven-lord's eyes 
darken the jade irises to a shade of olive. 

'Th-thank you,' he stammered, uncertain of what else to say. That problem was soon 
solved for him, however, for the thumb that had been stroking his cheek moved upwards 
into his hair, and brushed firmly against the delicate pointed tip of his ear. He gasped 
despite himself at the pleasurable sensation and his eyes fluttered closed for the briefest 
of moments; when they re-opened he saw that Celeborn was now smiling at him again, 
only this time with something other than kindness and understanding written on his face. 
The hand left his hip and moved behind him to grasp the handle and open the door, and 
he worried at his lower lip in his incomprehension of the situation. 

'Come, aier,' slurred Celeborn, stepping backwards and forcing him inside the room. 'I 
think it is time for bed.' 

*** 

Elvish translations: 

'Quel undome, Celeborn, Haldir, amin estela llie valina. Nan' gwador-nîn, lle demade 
tog mellyn-lye yulnea. Tula, vasa ar’ yulna en i’mereth - malia ten' fion? - Good evening, 
Celeborn, Haldir, I hope you are enjoying yourselves. But my brother, you have forgotten 
to get our friends a drink. Come, eat and drink of the feast - would you like some wine? 

Lle naa penmalia, Elladan, lle demade Haldir quena ú i'lambe tel' Eldalie. Nao seasu ar' 
queno Westron - You are careless, Elladan, you have forgotten that Haldir does not speak 
Elvish. Be polite and speak Westron. 

Ro naa'than sarig'mool, gwador-nîn, ro thela kai sinome - He is nothing beyond a sex 
servant, brother, he holds no significance here. 

Tanya nae penante, Elladan - That was unnecessary, Elladan. 

Kelo; aayo n'at i' gwaith senni - Go away; greet the other guests instead. 

Melloneamin, vasa naa tue! Nîn gwador ar' amin utunea llie vasa ar' yulna en merethlye! 
- My friends, dinner is served! My brotherr and I invite you to eat and drink of our feast! 

Saes, lava lye kel - Please excuse us. 

Uma, tanaka, sano vee' sailû vee' llie ant - Yes, of course, take as much time as you need. 

A/N: A warning for this chapter: explicit NCS ahead, NC-17 rating. 


***************  
CHAPTER 8  
*************** 

The Broken Promise 

Haldir could not help backing away from Celeborn as he advanced 
towards him. The Elven-lord had locked the door behind him and then 
rounded on the younger Elf, who was already standing a few steps away 
and regarding him with wide eyes, chewing hard on his lower lip; 
Celeborn cocked his head curiously and stepped towards him, and Haldir 
immediately took another step back. This motion was repeated several 
times until Haldir felt his knees connect with the edge of the bed behind 
him, and he cursed silently to himself. 

'There, there, easy, aier,' soothed the elder Elf gently, moving to stand 
directly in front of him and resuming caressing his cheek. 'You should 
know that you do not have to run away from me; you should know that I 
will take care of you. I will not hurt you.' 

Haldir gulped and could feel himself shaking underneath Celeborn's touch; 
part of him believed his elder when he said that he would not harm him, 
but at the same time the strange situation and unknown emotions flashing 
in the dark green eyes unnerved him and made his heart flutter in panic. 

Celeborn pushed his shoulders gently. 'Sit down,' he instructed gently. 
Haldir did as he was told, although his eyes never left the other Elf who 
then knelt before him and gazed into the hazel orbs; he was so tall that 
their faces were now level. Both hands now came up to cup his cheeks, 
and he brought his face so close that Haldir could actually feel his warm 
breath grazing past his chin. 'You are beautiful, you know,' he slurred 
softly; Haldir suddenly found that the breath was coming closer and closer 
to his face, until it was brushing past his very lips. 

He stiffened at the sudden realisation of what was happening, just at the 
same time as Celeborn tenderly covered his lips with his own. Gentle yet 
insistent hands, one at the base of his skull and one at the side of his head, 
prevented him from pulling backwards, so instead he sat, rigid and scared 
on the bed, as the Elven-lord kissed him. 

After a few moments the lips left his, and that familiar deep voice cut 
through the darkness. He realised that he had his eyes squeezed tightly 
shut, and opened them tentatively to see a pair of darkened green, half-
lidded, regarding him. 

'Relax, Haldir, you are far too tense,' purred the silver-haired Elf in front 
of him; he tried to do as he was told, but could not help but remain frozen 
on the bed. He still kept his eyes on Celeborn's; they widened, then, and 
all his futile attempts to loosen up slightly were dashed when the Elven-
lord brought his face close to his again. 

'You seem to be having a little trouble,' came a deep murmur, breath 
ghosting past Haldir's lips once more. He shut his eyes again. 'Here, let me 
help you.' 

Soft lips were pressed against his as they were before; except for this time 
the hand at the side of his head shifted position a little, and a thumb was 
brushed deliberately against the tip of his ear. He sucked in breath sharply 
over his teeth as Celeborn, who was now running his thumb repeatedly 
over the sensitive flesh, expertly played this weak spot as a musician 
would play his instrument, drawing sweet music from the beautifully 
sculpted wood. 

The Elven-lord's thumb then touched a particularly delicate point of skin, 
and despite all his best efforts Haldir could not help but part his lips and 
moan quietly. This was exactly what Celeborn had been waiting for, he 
deduced in shock, for a tongue immediately entered his mouth, drawing 
him deeper still into this unwanted kiss. 

Celeborn tasted warm and sweet and spicy like the wine that he had been 
drinking, but unlike the liquid the flavour of the Elven-lord was more 
potent and had greater texture. The heady taste was spread all around his 
mouth as it was meticulously explored by the tongue inside it, tracing the 
lines of his teeth and palette. Pleasurable sensations were still being 
bestowed upon him by the firm touches on his ear, but it did not aid him in 
relaxing one bit, and made no difference to the feeling of panic and the 
uncomfortable ache that were ominously rising in his stomach. 

He did not pull back, because he could not, but thankfully, just as the 
panic was beginning to rise up his throat and threatening to choke, 
Celeborn pulled away from him, licking his lips. 

'Mmmm, you taste wonderful, aier,' he commented, and Haldir felt 
himself begin to shake again as the hands that had held his head slid 
southwards down his shoulders, coming to sit his hips. His breath caught 
in his throat when Celeborn first slipped the tunic over his head, it being 
blatantly clear that the elder Elf very well intended his fingers to skate up 
his abdomen as he lifted it, and then returned to toy with the buttons on the 
shirt as his hands rested lightly over his breast. 

Those long, slender fingers now began to undo the buttons, allowing the 
shirt to hang, open, from his shoulders and reveal his firm chest as he 
slumped forwards a little, training his eyes on the floor and feeling the 
burn of shame stain his pale cheeks crimson. Hands slipped the shirt from 
his shoulders now, and it slid down to lie, forgotten, in a golden puddle on 
the bed, before they crept back up and commenced stroking Haldir's chest. 
He sucked in breath over his teeth again as the fingers occasionally 
brushed firmly past his nipples, coaxing them to hard, rosy buds despite 
his best efforts to prevent them from doing so. Although he had never 
been touched so intimately before he had a fair idea of what was 
happening, but could not understand why his body was still responding to 
the carefully placed touches and strokes regardless of the sickened dread 
in the pit of his stomach; the mind's complete incomprehension of why the 
flesh thought it wanted this. 

His breathing grew shallow as Celeborn continued to caress his chest for 
what seemed like an eternity, but in reality could only have been a few 
short minutes. He clenched his teeth together to prevent himself from 
gasping at the undeniably pleasant sensations; then they stopped. He let 
out a long-held breath in relief, but only to suck it back in sharply when 
the hands found their way to his shoulders and placed a firm, insistent 
backwards pressure on them. 

'Lie down, melui'ramin,' murmured the Elven-lord softly as he got to his 
feet. Haldir swallowed hard at this next command, but nonetheless did as 
he was told, lying back awkwardly and fixing his bright hazel eyes on the 
ceiling. He could feel the panic rising again from the pit of his stomach, 
which no amount of rational explanations could quell, and now, along 
with the panic he felt the insides of his eyelids begin to prickle. He blinked 
furiously and managed to restrain the tears for the time being, but was 
unable to disguise the tremors that shook his slender frame when Celeborn 
climbed up next to him on the bed and sat astride his hips. 

Somehow, although Haldir could not recall when, exactly, Celeborn had 
divested himself of his shirt and tunic and was now bare-chested like 
himself. The Elven-lord smirked down at him from his advantageous 
position, a predatorial glint in his lust-filled emerald eyes, before he 
lowered his face to Haldir's and proceeded to kiss him, firmly and 
passionately, once more. Haldir was too disgusted by the tongue that was 
invading his mouth to notice Celeborn's wandering hands, until he 
suddenly felt a tugging at the laces that fastened his leggings and stiffened 
on the bed. 

Celeborn now withdrew from his mouth and slid down his body to fiddle 
with the fastenings; laces were untied painfully slowly, and then he began 
to tug the burgundy fabric over the younger Elf's slim hips. Despite all that 
he remembered being told about submission and following master's 
orders, Haldir could not suppress a small, choked sob that welled up from 
his throat at this, and he whimpered softly. 

'No, please, no,' he cried; his voice was quiet and filled with pain and 
notes of pleading, and he silently beseeched Celeborn to stop with 
glistening hazel eyes as the Elven-lord played with the cloth at his hips. 

Heavily lidded darkened jade orbs were turned to him. 'But you want this, 
you know you want this,' insisted the other, finally pulling Haldir's 
leggings down to his knees. Haldir closed his eyes tightly as his most 
private parts were revealed and bit his lip hard, his face scarlet with 
embarrassment. 

'You are so beautiful - far too beautiful a creature to allow to go to waste,' 
purred Celeborn, then taking Haldir's still flaccid sex in-hand and stroking 
it firmly. The paint of arousal began to join the colour on Haldir's already 
burning cheeks as he felt strange stirring within his body at this, and he 
whimpered again. 

'No, no, please stop...' 

'You know you want this; you cannot deny it,' insisted the Elven-lord, 
relentless in his caressing that was causing a burning heat to rise between 
Haldir's legs. 'If you do not, then why is your body telling me otherwise?' 

He now ran his thumb over the slit at the top of the column of growing 
flesh, and Haldir's breath caught in his throat as a shudder rippled through 
his body. He writhed on the bed, tortured, as Celeborn continued to touch 
and stroke him, despite the pleas for him to stop, that he did not want this, 
that there must be another way...but still the hands on his body were 
everywhere at once; they repulsed him, and his own fingers clutched at the 
sheets in desperation. 

Eventually Celeborn appeared to tire of this sport - all the while he had 
been murmuring gentle, soothing words to the younger Elf, who, by this 
point, was almost sobbing from the conflict of his carnal and emotional 
torments - for now the words ceased, alongside the caresses, and strong 
hands instead moved upwards to his slender waist. Haldir felt himself 
being lifted and turned until he found himself lying on his front instead, 
and he gratefully buried his scarlet face in the embroidered coverlet, 
oblivious of what was to follow. 

If he had been listening, he would have heard the quiet rustle of cloth of 
leggings being removed as a prelude to the cool, soft, oily fingers that then 
made their way to the cleft between his buttocks. He moaned, then, a low, 
keening sound of desperation and agony, for the bed shifted beneath the 
weight of another who proceeded to straddle his thighs. The moan turned 
into a choked sob as two fingers then parted his buttocks and slid quickly 
and slickly inside him, probing hard and deep as if they sought something; 
he began to writhe in discomfort and disgust at himself, burying his head 
deeper into the mattress to hide the silver streaks that stained each crimson 
cheek, only to freeze when he twisted into a searing, immovable heat that 
pressed into the inside of his thigh. 

A gasp from behind caught his attention, and the fingers were removed 
from inside him. His shoulders slumped as he prayed to the Valar that this 
was the end, although he knew in his heart of hearts that there was yet 
more to follow; sure enough the rock-hard heat shifted from where it 
pressed into his thigh so that it was now positioned right at the still-tight 
entrance to his body. 

The realisation of what was truly about to happen now sank in, and he 
began to struggle and cry out on the bed. 

'No, please, no, get off me...you cannot do this, I do not want this, I -- ' 

His hips and upper thighs were gripped tightly between Celeborn's own, 
and he was swiftly silenced by a sharp bite to his shoulder. He fell back 
down to the bed, whimpering softly and his back shaking with unreleased 
sobs. 

'Now heed my words, aier,' hissed Celeborn in his head; he had leant 
forwards so that his chest covered Haldir's back, and the younger Elf could 
still feel the evidence of the elder's desire pushing against his opening. 
'You will enjoy this. You do want this; your body tells me that you want 
this...' 

A hand was slipped underneath his stomach to grasp his still-throbbing 
erection and resumed stroking it as if to prove a point, and Haldir could 
not help shuddering from the unwanted pleasure that he had tried so hard 
to shun. 

'And besides,' continued Celeborn, his voice now growing soft and 
soothing once more, 'I want this. You are mine - I have marked you -' he 
tenderly licked the bruise that was already forming on Haldir's shoulder, 
'and you will enjoy this. Let yourself enjoy this.' 

Haldir nodded, more out of habit since he was being told to obey someone 
rather than because he wanted to follow the orders, and buried his face in 
the sheets once more. 

'Now relax,' murmured the Elven-lord, moving both hands to grip Haldir's 
hips. And then, without warning, he flexed his hips and entered the 
younger Elf in one short, sharp, fluid stroke. 

Haldir screamed in pain at this, his agonised cries muffled somewhat by 
the bedclothes that he was biting down onto. Hands clutched at the sheets 
above his head, wringing them for all they were worth as though doing so 
would somehow make this blistering, sundering heat in his lower body 
vanish; he could hear gasping and panting emitted from above him, for 
Celeborn had begun to thrust back and forth inside him, and sobs shook 
his body as his tears now flowed in earnest. 

The Elven-lord now changed his angle slightly and thrust harder and 
deeper, and then suddenly brushed past a small, hidden spot deep inside 
the younger Elf. A choked gasp emerged involuntarily from Haldir's 
throat, for a wave of ecstasy shook his entire frame, mingling strangely 
with the over-full heat and pain in his lower abdomen and causing him to 
relax just the tiniest amount. 

He felt the whole area of bedclothes underneath him becoming damp, 
from a combination of tears wept freely now, sweat evoked from the 
occasional jolts of bliss that would sweep through him when Celeborn 
touched that sweet spot and momentarily still the burning inside, and also 
from a sticky liquid that was secreted from his own throbbing erection. It 
was not long before the Elven-lord slipped his hand underneath Haldir's 
stomach again and began to stroke him as he had done before, even as his 
thrusts were becoming more and more erratic; in his own turn, Haldir felt 
a tightening between his legs as the added pleasure coerced from his 
erection combined with the pain and ecstasy inside him, and he bit down 
so hard on his lip that he tasted blood to keep from crying out anymore. 

Above him Celeborn shuddered and groaned loudly, and his grip tightened 
where his hands lay on Haldir's body, one wrapped around his erection 
and one still resting on his hip. The forceful constriction around his hard 
flesh caused him to lose himself against his will, and even at the same 
time as the pain that already existed inside him burst into a mass of 
stinging as Celeborn shot his seed deep within, ecstasy spiralled around 
him and soothed the agony from the inside out. 

The Elven-lord then collapsed on top of him, panting hard and his body 
hot and drenched with sweat. Haldir was pressed even deeper into the 
mattress, but he did not care, simply sobbing his heart out into the covers 
at the same time as he tried to suck air into his starved lungs whilst he lay 
there, shivering. Eventually Celeborn rolled off his back, slowly 
withdrawing his now flaccid member at the same time, and, between his 
sobs and near-hyperventilation, Haldir vaguely registered feeling strangely 
empty and lost at this as he was drawn into the elder Elf's warm, strong 
arms. 

His silver hair was stroked and his brow tenderly kissed, before Celeborn 
positioned Haldir's head on his chest and allowed him to sob into his 
shoulder as he pulled the blankets up over the pair of them. Haldir felt too 
weak and drained, both physically and mentally from his bodily and 
mental war, to resist this, despite the feeling of revulsion that he felt; 
inexplicably, though, he also felt safe and wanted in the embrace, but did 
not have the strength to fathom it out. 

His sobs began to subside as Celeborn murmured softly to him; it was in 
Elvish, and despite not being able to understand what was being said it 
soothed his battered flesh and soul more than words that he could have 
comprehended. 

"Shhh, dino lisse'-nîn, melui'ramin," he muttered, cradling Haldir's silver 
head to his breast as he spoke. "Lanto kaima, quel esto - amin caela lle 
sii'." 

Soon Haldir felt the lull of slumber beckoning him, accompanied by the 
strangely settled feeling that follows weeping, and he fell asleep against 
both his aggressor and his defender. 

TBC 

Elvish Translations: 

Melui'ramin - My pretty one 

Shhh, dino lisse'-nîn, melui'ramin - Shhh, quiet my sweet, my pretty one. 

Lanto kaima, quel esto - amin caela lle sii' - Go to sleep, rest well - I've 
got you now. 


***************  
CHAPTER 9  
*************** 

The Morning After 

It was still dark when Haldir awoke with a start, his body having rested 
enough to allow him the strength to move again. He stiffened when he 
realised that he was still loosely cradled against Celeborn, and carefully 
slid out of his arms so as not to wake him. His entire body ached, not to 
mention the fire that burned in his lower abdomen, and he felt sick to the 
pit of his stomach. He felt none of it, however, for at that moment the only 
thing on his mind was his desperation to remove himself from the entire 
situation. 

He stood up cautiously and backed away from the bed for a few steps, 
cursing beneath his breath when he accidentally knocked something from 
the nightstand. Celeborn stirred a little but did not awaken, merely turned 
over in his sleep so that his back was to Haldir, muttering something 
almost inaudibly from within his dreams. Haldir sighed in relief and made 
for the door, silently but fast, only to stop again when he realised that he 
was still completely naked. 

He looked around anxiously, searching for something to cover himself 
with, and caught sight of a discarded robe on a nearby chair. He snatched 
it up and wrapped himself in it, oblivious to the fact that it actually 
belonged to the Elven-lord, and turned again to the door, stealing out of 
the room and closing it behind him without so much as a creak or a tap. 

Once in the corridor it took Haldir a few moments to regain his bearings, 
but when he had done so he made straight for his own room. The 
passageway was deserted, the reason for it being displayed by the large 
clock upon the wall that read a quarter to three. Haldir was eternally 
grateful for this, since his passage was wobbly and he stumbled several 
times in his haste, often having to reach out to steady himself against the 
wall. After what seemed to him like an eternity, he reached the door and 
slid inside, locking it behind him and making straight for the bed. 

Before he reached it, however, he felt a tightening in his stomach, and 
looked around desperately for some sort of container. Seeing a bowl on a 
stand in the corner, originally made for washing, he rushed over to it and 
promptly emptied the contents of his stomach into it. He vomited for 
several long minutes until the retching gave way to dry heaves. When the 
convulsing that shook his whole slender finally ceased he stumbled 
shakily over to the bed where he had first been headed. 

The robe was shrugged off with obvious awkwardness, for the pain 
throughout his battered body had now begun to manifest itself, and as he 
lifted one leg to stiffly climb up onto the bed something twinged inside his 
belly, making him wince and bite his lip to prevent himself from crying 
out. A hot trickle slid down the inside of one thigh, but he ignored it 
knowing that nothing could be done, instead continuing with his graceless 
clamber. Once he had collapsed, exhausted, onto the bed, he wrapped the 
sheets around himself with his knees pulled up to his chest, curling into a 
ball in the middle of the huge mattress and burying his face into the 
pillow. The tears returned along with memories and visions that he could 
not eradicate from his mind, no matter how hard he tried, and his back 
shook with the silent sobs as he fell into slumber, fitful and disturbed. 

~~~ 

Celeborn's head was pounding when he returned to consciousness; he had 
to loosen his tongue from the roof of his mouth before he was able to 
groan, and the sunlight streaming in through the open drapes hurt his eyes 
and his brain. 

Valar, I wonder how much feywine I actually drank last night, he mused 
as he threw back the covers and got to his feet, making his way over to the 
washstand where he splashed some cool water onto his face in a vain 
attempt to refresh himself and regain his composure. He caught the silvery 
drops of liquid that dripped from his chin with a towel and blinked, feeling 
a slight improvement, when he noticed a pair of maroon leggings lying on 
the floor. Not recognising them to be his he wandered over to them and 
picked them up, frowning at a nagging thought in the back of his mind that 
refused to make itself known but at the same time just would not to 
vanish. He surveyed the room with as much attention as he could muster, 
when he then spied a flash of golden fabric between the layers of the bed 
sheets and the blankets. 

He extracted the shirt from the bedclothes and examined it; it appeared to 
be Haldir's, along with the leggings.Where...what...but Haldir..? 

Panic assailed him as an accompaniment to the ominous flashbacks that he 
could not quite place; he swept back the sheets from the mattress and 
cursed loudly, for there were marks on them that could only be recognised 
as semen and blood. He then made for the door, pausing only to swipe 
another robe from the wardrobe, since his was not immediately to hand, 
and strode anxiously down the corridor to Haldir's room. 

He stopped at the door, his hand halfway between the handle and the 
motion to knock, at a loss for what to do; he allowed his hand to fall to his 
side again and sighed heavily, using the fingers of one hand to pinch the 
bridge of his nose. If I really did this last night, then surely I will be the 
last person Haldir wants to see right now, he berated himself, closing his 
eyes and moving so that he was leaning with his back to the wall, allowing 
both hands to fall to his sides. And yet, I have to make certain that he is 
not too badly injured...what if... 

It appeared that his indecisiveness served him well, for at that moment his 
thoughts were interrupted by the sound of light footfalls reverberating 
from further down the corridor. He opened his eyes and looked up, to see 
Elrohir walking towards him. The dark-haired Elven-lord was beaming, 
but the grin soon faded from his face when he saw the crestfallen 
expression of the former Lord of ‘Lórien. 

"Ata'da, whatever is the matter?" he asked with concern, stepping up 
beside his grandfather and laying a hand upon his shoulder. "Why are you 
standing out here in the corridor? And wearing such an expression?" 

Celeborn sighed heavily and pinched the bridge of his nose again as he 
replied. "It is Haldir - last night...I...I think I..." He tailed off and cast his 
eyes downwards, thus missing the frown that crossed Elrohir's features. 

"Is he hurt?" was the first question that came to both his mind and his lips, 
for what had happened between Celeborn and his consort was already 
perfectly lucid in his head. The fair Elf shrugged, still keeping his eyes 
fixed firmly upon the floor. 

"I don't know...I was about to check, but then I thought..." 

"Would you like me to take a look?" suggested the darker of the two 
gently, earning himself a grateful smile from the fairer. 

"Oh, would you? I think you have his trust, you know...I would do it 
myself, only..." He shrugged his shoulders, at a loss for anything else to 
do. 

Elrohir silenced him with a wave of his hand, and squeezed his shoulder 
tighter with the other. "I know, I know. Now, may I suggest that you make 
yourself look halfway decent and then go and find Elladan? He will know 
what to do with you; I think he may be in the library." 

The hand on Celeborn's shoulder was now being used to usher him back in 
the direction of his rooms, and he reluctantly obeyed as the dark-haired 
Elven-lord turned to enter Haldir's room. 

"Elrohir?" Celeborn's voice was soft and sad as he turned in the middle of 
the corridor one last time, but it still caught his friend's attention. "I never 
meant to hurt him." 

Elrohir smiled wistfully in way of a reply, before tapping gently on the 
door and waiting. After a few moments there was still no answer or sound 
from within, so he tried the handle, only to find it locked. He frowned to 
himself and got down on one knee, extracting a small dagger from the side 
of his boot as he did so, and then proceeded to skilfully and silently pick 
the lock. 

It was only a few seconds before he heard a soft click, and got to his feet 
again. This time the door opened when he turned the handle and he slipped 
quietly inside, closing it behind him behind him. His attention was 
immediately drawn to the bed when he glanced around the room, and his 
brow creased when he saw the sight that occupied it. 

Haldir was curled up, asleep, in the centre of the double bed, so huge that 
it made him seem as small and insignificant as he probably felt. The sheets 
were drawn up to his chin and he was clutching the material from beneath 
them; they were white and almost matching his pale, tear-streaked face 
that was only a shade or two darker, save a dark red patch about halfway 
down them that caused the fabric to stick to his body. 

Elrohir gritted his teeth and padded over to the bed, noticing on his way a 
bowl on the floor that Haldir had obviously been sick into. Not that I 
blame him, he thought as he knelt beside the bed, and murmured the 
younger Elf's name softly so as not to spook him when he awoke. Haldir 
stirred a little under the sheets and whimpered softly in pain before his 
eyes focused and he caught sight of the Elven-lord at his bedside. 

The hazel orbs went wide in fright as he bolted upright and scrambled 
backwards in the bed, his face draining of what little colour it had 
managed to retain. He sat at the far side of the bed, shaking and chewing 
hard on his lower lip, with his knees drawn up to his chest and the sheets 
wrapped tightly around his body. 

'Shh, little one, it's alright, I'm not going to hurt you,' said Elrohir gently 
without moving from his position on the floor. 

'That is w-what he s-said,' breathed Haldir in return, as though his voice 
had deserted him in his fear. 'H-how did you g-get in? I locked the d-
door...' 

Elrohir noted with concern that the younger Elf's voice was quavering 
from the tremors that wracked his whole slender frame. 'I picked the lock, 
Haldir; I wanted to make certain that you were not too badly injured. 
Celeborn told me what happened, and he is so sorry. He never meant to 
hurt you.' 

There was no reply to this, even though the dark Elf had allowed the fair a 
chance to speak, so he continued. 'Haldir, I know that this will be hard for 
you, but will you allow me to take a look at you? You have been bleeding.' 

The young Elf stiffened visibly at these words and looked away, his 
fingers wringing the cloth of the sheets where he clasped them around his 
knees and his eyes bright with yet more tears. 

'No...no...I...no...p-please...' 

Elrohir's expression was passive and accepting. 'It's alright, don't worry, I 
will not make you. You are obviously not too badly hurt, if you can walk.' 

Haldir relaxed slightly when he heard Elrohir's words, although he still did 
not stop shaking. 'Th-thank you,' he murmured, his hazel orbs flicking 
over to the other Elf for a few moments, showing his gratitude at having 
his wishes respected in such a way. Elrohir smiled kindly. 

'Is there anything that you want? Anything that I can do for you?' 
Haldir thought for a moment, before turning his silver head towards the 
Elven-lord and gazing at him imploringly. 'Yes, c-can I b-bathe?' 

'Of course you can. Come with me, I will show you to a private bathroom.' 

Relief spread briefly across the younger Elf's face, and Elrohir felt his 
heart lift a little along with it; it soon sank again, however, when Haldir's 
face fell once more. 'C-could you wait outside, please? I h-have nothing 
on...' 

The Elven-lord simply nodded respectfully and got to his feet without a 
word, slipping out of the room and closing the door behind him. Once 
outside he turned his back to the wall and leaned against it, running his 
thoughts over in his mind as he waited for Haldir to dress and follow him. 
The younger Elf's vulnerability and self-depreciation had both struck him 
heavily, and at that moment he could feel nothing but pity and compassion 
for the terrified creature that he had seen inside the bedroom. Why, 
Ata'da?, he mused silently, of all the things, you had to do this! The poor 
boy was already frightened enough as it was, without you making it 
worse; he was just beginning to trust us... 

His deliberations were interrupted at that point by the soft creak of the 
door opening to reveal Haldir standing in the doorway, dressed in a simple 
but voluminous sleeping gown that he had found in the cupboard. He 
emerged slowly, still regarding Elrohir with a guarded expression and 
walking with apparent stiffness and discomfort. The Elven-lord said 
nothing, merely stepped away from the wall and led Haldir on his uneasy 
walk to the private bathroom. 

Elvish Translations: 

Ata'da - Granddad 


***************  
CHAPTER 10  
*************** 

The Understandings 

Elladan was, indeed, in the library as Elrohir had promised, sitting at a 
table and poring over a book. Celeborn approached him with dull footsteps 
and sank heavily into a chair opposite, slumping forwards over the table 
and burying his head in his hands without a word. Elladan looked up from 
his book in surprise, laughing softly when he saw the state his grandfather 
was in. 

"Headache, ata'da?" 

Celeborn raised his head, silencing his grandson with nothing more than a 
glance. Reproach then crossed his features and he sighed deeply, pinching 
the bridge of his nose between thumb and forefinger as he often did when 
stressed. 

"If only it were that simple, Elladan," he murmured wearily, causing the 
younger Elf's brow to crease in concern. "Last night, I..." He lowered his 
gaze to the tabletop, "I raped Haldir." 

Elladan stood up and walked round to the other side of the table, 
crouching down so that he was level with his grandfather and laying an 
arm comfortingly across his shoulders as he replied. "But he is your 
consort; that is what he is here for." 

Jade orbs regarded him sceptically. "But there was blood, a lot of blood...I 
must have been rough. And he was so timid before - Elbereth only knows 
what state the poor boy is in now. We were just beginning to gain his trust, 
and now --" 

Elladan cut him off with a wave of his hand and a squeeze of his 
shoulders. "You were drunk, ata'da, it could not be helped. It is his 
position in life, and he needs to learn that." 

"But in such a way as this?" Celeborn's voice was soft with undertones of 
anguish. "He has obviously had a difficult past; I was hoping that things 
could be better for him here. He wanted to learn Elvish, and how to ride, 
and I said that I would teach him." 

"He is not a pet, grandfather!" replied the dark-haired Elven-lord, his voice 
loud and compelling, the complete opposite to Celeborn's. "He is a body; 
nothing more, nothing less." 

"He is also a living creature, same as you and I, Elladan," shot back the 
fair Elven-lord, quietly, although brimming with enough poison to fell an 
oliphuant. "He has rights too. And, what is more, I promised him that he 
would be treated well and fairly, and above all that I would not hurt him. I 
have broken both of those promises to him, not to mention the suffering 
that I have undoubtedly caused. I know not how I shall even set about 
regaining his trust." 

Elladan sighed heavily. "I can see your point," he admitted reluctantly, 
pursing his lips to hide his slight embarrassment. "Where is he now?" 

"Your brother offered to take a look at him for me," came the reply. "I 
wanted to see how badly he was hurt, and yet I feared that I would scare 
him even more should I try." 

"We should wait for Elrohir to return, then, before we decide anything," 
suggested the elder twin, standing up as he spoke. "But until then, I feel 
that some food would do you good. Breakfast?" 

~~~ 

Haldir thanked Elrohir, almost inaudibly, before he closed the door to the 
bathroom. He noted with immense relief that this room, unlike his own 
chambers, had a proper bolt that could not be picked on the door, and slid 
it firmly home. Once satisfied that no other person would be able to enter 
unless either he let them in or they battered the door down, he turned to 
the steaming tub of hot, scented water that Elrohir had drawn off for him. 

He slipped off the robe that he had dressed himself in for the walk to the 
baths and discarded it on the floor, then moving to the edge of the sunken 
tub and sliding awkwardly into the water. Stinging heat immediately 
encompassed the more tender parts of Haldir's battered body, causing him 
to hiss softly in pain. The initial stinging sensation soon dulled, however, 
and he made his way over to a step carved in the stone side of the bath, 
easing himself into a sitting position. He relaxed back and allowed the 
warm water to soothe his pain, closing his eyes and laying his silver head 
against the side of the tub with an elated sigh. For the first time that day he 
felt completely unperturbed, and permitted his mind to drift to pleasant 
places for many long minutes. 

Eventually he raised his head and reopened his eyes, slowly awoken from 
his peaceful reverie by the increasingly nagging feeling of being unclean. 
Looking around, he spied a bar of soap sitting at the edge of the tub and 
picked it up, using it to work up a rich, foamy lather over his pale skin. 
Haldir rubbed and rubbed with the bar, all over his body, but still he felt 
dirty. 

Then he caught sight of a stiff brush sitting on the other edge of the tub. 
He now picked up this and used it to scrub at his skin in combination with 
the soap, gently at first, but soon the strokes became harder and more 
violent until his skin was red-raw. The stinging, burning pain of his skin 
came as a great wash of relief to him, for some obscure reason, as though 
the hurt was a way to erase the dirty, violated sensation that surrounded 
his entire being. 

Finally he stopped. His usually creamy skin was now bright scarlet and 
there were visible scratches all over, but at least he felt clean now. He 
stood up slowly and got out of the bath, wrapping himself in a towel that 
had been left for him before he started to dress in the clothes that had also 
been provided. Putting the leggings on was awkward, and it hurt, but once 
he was fully clothed again he moved to the door and opened it. 

Hazel eyes went wide in surprise when he saw that Elrohir was waiting for 
him outside, sitting on a chair. He stood up when he heard the door open, 
smiling kindly, but Haldir froze in the doorway, regarding the dark-haired 
Elf with a guarded expression. 

'Do you feel better for that, little one?' asked Elrohir gently; Haldir noted 
with cautious relief that the elder Elf was making a point of keeping his 
distance, for which he was incredibly grateful. 

'Yes, thank you, much better,' he murmured, his voice having gone soft in 
his trepidation once again. Elrohir smiled again and took a step towards 
him in a gesture of obvious kindness, but nonetheless Haldir could not 
help flinching and moving backwards a little, causing the Elven-lord to 
discontinue his motion. 

'Sorry,' he muttered, a look of self-reproach crossing his features. 'Haldir, I 
know that this will probably mean very little to you, but I just want you to 
know, I swear by the Valar that I will never harm you. If you choose to 
trust us again then understand that you can, completely and utterly.' 

Haldir gazed at him with his still-wide hazel eyes. 'Thank you,' he 
murmured again, 'I...I will try, but...but it is so hard.' He could feel tears 
pricking the insides of his eyelids as he spoke, and his breath caught in his 
throat a little. 'He," Haldir could not bring himself to say Celeborn's name, 
"said that he would not hurt me...I trusted him, and he broke his 
promise...and...and...' 

The sobs now overwhelmed him, accompanying the tears that had already 
begun to stream down his face, and he let his back slide down the side of 
the doorframe until he was sitting on the floor with his back against it. 
Through the blur of the crystalline liquid Haldir noticed that Elrohir's face 
had filled with compassion, and had somehow managed to move several 
steps closer without his realising it, but strangely this did not worry him as 
much as he had thought it would. Although he had to fight hard to keep 
from recoiling when the dark-haired Elf crouched beside him and laid a 
hand comfortingly upon his shoulder, it was not long before he relaxed 
into the unobtrusive touch and suffered the touches intended to console. 

Despite this, however, he had still not stopped weeping after several 
moments; it was at this point that Elrohir sat down so he was level with 
Haldir's tear-stained face, which he cupped in both his large, strong hands. 

'He never meant to hurt you, Haldir,' he began, gazing earnestly into the 
fair Elf's watery hazel eyes with his own chocolate pair. 'He told me that 
himself; he is so, so sorry that he has done this to you. Do you know what 
he was doing when I found him?' 

Haldir's thin frame was so wracked by the sobs that he was unable to 
speak, shaking his head instead in way of an answer. 

'He was standing outside your door, unable to decide whether to go in or 
not. He wanted desperately to see that no serious harm had come to you, 
but at the same time he knew that the effects would probably be even 
worse if you saw him then. My grandfather has a good heart, and I realise 
that you will find it incredibly hard to forgive him for what happened last 
night - understandably so, of course - but just know that it was the effects 
of the alcohol that made him do it, and he is truly repentant.' 

Haldir said nothing to this; indeed, there was nothing to say, even if he had 
been able to speak amidst the tremors that shook his body, almost 
painfully so. Then, before he realised what had happened, Elrohir had 
enfolded him gently in his arms. The embrace was loose enough that 
Haldir could pull away if he so desired, and although he stiffened when he 
first felt the Elven-lord's arms encircle him he did not pull back, instead 
surrendering all reservations for the time being and melting towards him. 

Elrohir held him until he quieted, allowing him to cry into his shoulder 
and acting as support without making any further gestures that may have 
spooked the younger Elf. Eventually Haldir lifted his head and wiped his 
eyes. His breathing was still shaky, but the worst of the tears had been 
released, and he even managed a weak smile at the Elven-lord. 

'Thank you,' he murmured, knowing that the gratitude shining in his eyes 
spoke louder than any words that he could voice. Elrohir smiled in return. 

'No, thank you,' he replied, getting slowly to his feet and offering a hand to 
Haldir. 'What next, then? I am guessing that you must be famished; would 
you come with me to the kitchen? I shall get you some breakfast.' 

TBC 

***************  
CHAPTER 11  
*************** 

The Tears 

Celeborn picked listlessly at the plate of fruit before him, thoroughly 
disinterested as he was in food right now. Elladan had finished bolting his 
own breakfast in his usual hasty manner and was leaning against the back 
of his chair, watching his grandfather push a piece of apple around his 
plate. Silence hung over the pair in the otherwise deserted kitchen like a 
lead weight, but Celeborn failed to notice this. His own musings plagued 
him enough to more than compensate for it. 

With a heavy sigh the silver-haired Elf finally pushed his plate to one side 
and placed both elbows on the table, using his hands as a means to support 
his chin. His jade eyes were dull and blank, signaling his submission to his 
thoughts, as he focused on something partway between the table and the 
far wall. The dark-haired Elf sighed in return and passed a hand through 
his grandfather's line of vision; Celeborn started and blinked, before 
looking questioningly at his grandson. 

"Please, ata'da," begged Elladan, taking one of his grandfather's long, 
elegant hands within both his own. "Will you not heed my words? I --" 
He was cut off by the soft creak of the kitchen door opening, and two pairs 
of eyes, one emerald and the other chocolate, flickered over to rest upon 
the two figures that stood in the doorway. Everybody froze; Elrohir and 
Haldir had obviously not expected to find Celeborn and Elladan in the 
kitchen. 

~~~ 

Haldir had begun to shake uncontrollably at almost the exact instant his 
hazel eyes had become transfixed upon the jade pair belonging to the 
former Lord of ‘Lórien. The elder Elf stood up slowly as they stared at 
each other, wide-eyed, unable to tear their gaze from the other's as time 
seemed to halt in its path, waiting for the pair to catch up with it again. 
Much as Haldir wished to look away, he found that he was simply rooted 
to the spot by his fears that, despite Elrohir's attempts to quell, had 
remained clearly justified in his head. Animation was suspended. 

Eventually Celeborn moved, going to take a step towards Haldir and, in 
doing so, breaking the electrically charged tension that had formed during 
that impossibly drawn-out second. Haldir took a step back in accordance, 
averting his eyes as he did so, grateful for the release but at the same time 
dreading what was to follow. 

'Haldir, aier,' began Celeborn gently; his voice was hesitant and sounded 
somewhat dejected, but the younger Elf could still not bring himself to lift 
his eyes from the flagstones as he stood quaking. 'Haldir, I am so sorry, 
please...' 

He moved to take another step forwards with one arm outstretched, but it 
fell limply to his side as Haldir backed away again. He collided with a 
warm, firm body behind him, which made him start and jump forwards; he 
had forgotten that Elrohir was standing behind him. A hand was placed 
gently on his shoulder, and although his body was already drawn as tight 
as a bowstring he relaxed an almost imperceptible amount. He began to 
chew on his lower lip and closed his eyes, wishing desperately that he 
could escape from this situation. All he wanted was to run back to his 
room and curl up in his bed; although food had been on his mind a few 
moments previously, he now felt extremely nauseous and light-headed 
once again. Memories suddenly bombarded him, of a gentle, soothing 
touch here followed by a hard, deliberate motion there, repeated, 
rhythmically, over and over and over... 

A soft, pained cry escaped Haldir's lips and he choked, coughing on the 
next gulp of air that stuck firmly in his throat and refused to dislodge 
itself. His breathing instantly became shallow and laboured and an icy 
chill swept over him, belying the sheen of cold sweat that now glistened 
over his blanched skin. The walls seemed to close in around him, and 
suddenly he felt the overwhelming urge to leave the kitchen. He pivoted 
on the spot and would have bolted down the corridor, had a pair of strong 
arms not immediately encircled his waist when he collided with a firm 
body once again, and held him tightly. Haldir struggled weakly for a few 
moments but still Elrohir held him close, refusing to let him escape. 
Finally Haldir gave up the fight, for the Elven-lord's strength greatly 
exceeded his own. He wilted in the other's arms and closed his eyes in 
defeat, not resisting when he was squeezed close again, only this time for 
comfort. 

'Easy there, pen-neth, settle down,' purred a deep, soothing voice that 
emanated from the chest to which Haldir's body was pressed and rippled 
outwards through his being in low, calming vibrations. 'Just stay a little 
while and talk; that is all that my grandfather is asking for. Running from 
the situation will bring no good to anyone.' 

Haldir sniffed, and resigned himself to the fact that he did not really have 
a huge say in the matter. A barely conceivable nod against Elrohir's 
shoulder, showing his reluctant assent, resulted in hands on his shoulders 
that pushed him back and he found himself looking into kind coffee eyes 
before he was turned so he was facing into the room. 

'Come on, then, let's sit down,' urged the Elven-lord. He ushered the fair 
young Elf towards the table to seat him by his side at the opposite end of 
the table to Celeborn and Elladan, who had made his way there at some 
point during the commotion. Haldir sank into the chair offered to him, 
curling one leg underneath him and wringing his hands anxiously in his 
lap whilst his eyes darted to the floor, the table, the door...in fact, 
anywhere apart from to his audience. 

Celeborn spoke at almost the instant he sat down, although Haldir could 
still not bring himself to look at the other blond. 

'Haldir, please listen to me. It pains me greatly to see your fear of me, 
although I completely understand why you feel this way. I never meant to 
hurt you, I really truly did not. I was drunk - ' he paused and scoffed 
sardonically at himself, 'some excuse that is - I have no excuse. I caused 
you suffering; I broke my promise to you, and that I shall never be able to 
forgive myself for, let alone everything else that I have done besides. I 
only hope that you can find it in your heart to forgive me, aier. I am not 
certain that I could live with myself, if I knew that I had broken you.' 

A lone tear skidded down Haldir's smooth, pale cheek at these words, 
poignant in themselves even before combined with the anguish and 
heartfelt sincerity that burdened the usually musical voice. He wondered if 
Celeborn's features were as sorrowful as his tone of voice, but just as he 
was about to tear his eyes from the table where they had settled and look 
over to the fair Elven-lord, Elladan laughed loudly. 

" 'Mank'amin sinta rusva lle,' " he intoned, and Haldir was easily able to 
detect the blatant mocking, derisive twist to his words even though he did 
not understand them. "Eleo, ata'da, amin nyare lle, ro naa'than sarig'mool 
ten' lle. Mankoi dela o ro?" 

"N'uma, Elladan, ro vithel caela bainfea," snapped back Celeborn 
immediately. "Iire eleuva tanya; ro naa coia'nna, ar' lle naa tyara vee' 
land a' lye." 

This obviously displeased Elladan, for he stood up with a noisy scrape of 
his chair and sneered at Haldir. "Uma, ve' lle ume," he muttered beneath 
his breath, and then turned his back upon the remaining three Elves and 
swept out of the kitchen. Elrohir winced and Haldir saw that Celeborn 
passed his hands over his face as he risked a glance over in that direction. 
He did not understand what had passed between Elladan and Celeborn, but 
from what he could gather the elder Elf had just come to his defense over 
whatever Elladan had said. 

Something temporarily flickered inside his heart at this, and for a second 
the two conflicting emotions of fear and forgiveness warred within his 
head. The latter was swiftly negated by the trembling and stiffening of his 
body a few moments later, for Celeborn stood and moved up a few chairs 
so that he was now sitting much closer. Haldir shifted uncomfortably, for 
he was wary and scared by the Elven-lord's proximity, and unconsciously 
sidled closer to Elrohir in his seat. 

'Please consider what I have said, Haldir. I meant every word of it, and 
although I will completely understand if you wish never to set eyes upon 
me again, I just wanted you to know that.' 

He now stopped speaking again, and a heavy silence descended. 

~~~ 

Haldir was fidgeting in his chair, and it quickly became apparent to 
Celeborn that he was not going to speak. At a loss for anything else to do, 
he shifted a little closer and reached over the table, enclosing his cool, 
elegant fingers around those of the younger Elf that were twisting the 
fabric of his tunic between his fingers. Momentary paralysis struck Haldir 
at this contact, and although, to his credit, he did not resist when Celeborn 
drew his slim, pale hand towards him, the Elven-lord noticed that it was 
shaking quite violently and mentally chastised himself. This is your fault... 

Emotion welled up inside Celeborn at this thought and he felt the insides 
of his eyelids prickle. He held and examined Haldir's hand for several 
minutes, stroking it gently with his thumb until the trembling ceased a 
little. Finally, unable to think of any other way to express his sorrow, he 
now moved to press the younger Elf's hand gently to his lips. This was 
obviously too much for the younger Elf, for he uttered a soft whimper and 
snatched back his hand, staring at Celeborn with wide, frightened eyes. 

Celeborn was unable to restrain himself and a lone tear wandered down 
his cheek as he dropped his eyes to the table, bridging his temples in the 
fingers of one hand. You fool, he screamed at himself inwardly; everything 
you do just makes it worse, so stop! Can you not control yourself at all? 
How do you intend to gain his trust this time, when you cannot even hold 
his hand? 

He stood up with a heavy sigh, muttering to the pair on the opposite side 
of the table as he made his exit from the kitchen. 'Forgive me, Haldir, I am 
sorry. I'm scaring you; I should just leave.' 

Celeborn's steps were heavy and he dragged his heels as he made his way 
to the door. He allowed it to swing shut behind him without looking back, 
thus missing the expressions of one disheartened and frustrated raven-
haired Elf, and the other blond, still sniffing and confused by the conflict 
of his head and his heart. 

TBC 

Elvish Translations: 

Pen-neth - Young one 

Mank'amin sinta rusva lle - If I knew that I had broken you. 

Eleo, ata'da, amin nyare lle, ro naa'than sarig'mool ten' lle. Mankoi dela o 
ro? - See, grandfather, I told you that he is nothing beyond a sex-slave for 
you. Why do you worry about him? 

N'uma, Elladan, ro vithel caela bainfea - No, Elladan, he also has a 
beautiful spirit. 

Iire eleuva tanya; ro naa coia'nna, ar' lle naa tyara vee' land a' lye - 
When will you see that; he is a living creature, and you should treat him as 
an equal. 

Uma, ve' lle ume - Yes, like you did. 


A/N: I sincerely apologise for temporarily grinding to a halt on this fic, 
but I ran into an extreme case of writer's block for a bit. That, and the fact 
that real life has been rather hectic recently. Thankfully, though, I seem to 
have overcome this, and I already have inspiration for the next chapter, so 
hopefully there should be more soon! 
Thanks, as usual, are due to my beta Caz, for all her encouragement and 
sending back of certain chapters because I just couldn't get it right! 
Cheers, Hobnob! 

***************  
Chapter 12  
*************** 

The Lesson 

Later that afternoon, bored and listless after the depressing events of the 
morning, Celeborn found himself in the library. He had not really planned 
on ending up there - but then, he had not really planned on ending up 
anywhere in particular. He had been wandering around the house and the 
grounds for hours now, allowing himself to become dragged under by his 
thoughts and not concentrating on where he was headed; however, now he 
was in the library it seemed as good a place as any to stop. Perhaps a book 
would help take his troubled mind from his problems for a while. 

He wandered along the rows of books towards the tables and the sofas at 
the other end of the long room, stopping as he went to select a volume 
from a shelf. Emerging from behind the bookcase, he stopped; Elrohir was 
sprawled, asleep, on one of the sofas with a book resting across his 
stomach, and Haldir was sitting at one table, frowning down at the pages 
of a thick, leather-bound manuscript. Celeborn's heart ached for the 
younger blond, for despite his expression of intense conversation as he 
tried to decipher the Tengwar script, he also appeared to be relatively 
happy and relaxed. He had obviously not heard Celeborn enter the room. 

The tall Elven-lord stood silently watching Haldir for a few minutes, his 
presence undetected by the younger Elf, until the foreign language 
obviously became too much for him. He emitted a frustrated sigh and 
closed the book gently, lifting his eyes from the table. Celeborn counted 
the seconds until Haldir registered the fact that he and Elrohir were not 
alone in the library; sure enough, the younger Elf noticed his observer at 
almost the same instant as he looked up, and stiffened as Celeborn knew 
he would. 

'Are you having trouble with that, aier?' inquired the Elven-lord softly, his 
voice carefully drained of any excess emotion that might give the other Elf 
reason to bolt again. Haldir glanced at him guardedly out of the corner of 
his eye and nodded, obviously embarrassed in addition to his unease. 
Celeborn acknowledged this fact and retreated behind the bookcase, this 
time appearing with another, smaller book in his hands. 

'Try this, it is a little easier. That is a difficult book for you to begin with.' 
Celeborn stepped up slowly to the table and extended his arm; Haldir took 
the book warily and placed it on the table before him, although still not 
taking his eye off the figure that remained standing. He opened it as if it 
would bite, to Celeborn's bitter amusement, and glanced down at the page 
open before him. Hazel eyes narrowed at the ink patterns across the paper, 
in a similar expression to that which they had held a few moments ago, 
and Celeborn was barely able to stifle a chuckle as he watched Haldir tilt 
and turn the book until it was upside down. 

'Can you read Tengwar, Haldir?" he enquired gently, cocking his head 
with the question as the silver head shot up from the page. Haldir shook 
his head slowly, his eyes transfixed on Celeborn and a wary expression 
fixing his features. 

'Would you like a little help?' 

A backwards glance at Elrohir, still fast asleep on the couch, and then a 
moment's hesitation preceded the small, hesitant nod of the silver head. It 
was immensely difficult for Celeborn to refrain from beaming widely, but 
somehow he managed it, and instead sat down slowly and unobtrusively at 
the table. 
~~~ 

Haldir focused all of his efforts into staying relaxed as Celeborn took a 
seat so that the corner of the table separated them, although he could not 
help but automatically flinch a little when the Elven-lord moved his hand. 
He berated himself mentally, however, when Celeborn did nothing but 
move the book so that he could see better. Grateful for the fact that the 
other Elf did not notice, or failed to show it if he did, Haldir leaned 
forwards slightly to peer at the page in an attempt to cover this up. 

Come on, he chided, forcing himself to take a deep, calming breath. He 
would not dare try anything; Elrohir is asleep behind me. Another deep 
breath. Besides, you saw how sorry he was... 

He started again as Celeborn pushed back his chair; it was not a sudden 
movement, but it made him jump all the same. This time the Elven-lord 
did notice his nervousness, and apologised. 

'Sorry,' he murmured, glancing at Haldir before he moved to a desk on the 
other side of the room. 'I am just getting some paper - it will be easier for 
you to learn the letters this way.' 

Haldir nodded, feeling strangely relieved, although the familiar sense of 
excitement had also crept back to him at the thought of being able to read 
and speak Elvish. And write it, too, by the looks of things, for Celeborn 
had returned with not only several sheets of paper, but also a bottle of ink 
and two quills. Haldir felt the corners of his lips twitch upwards when the 
other Elf handed him the pen and a sheet of paper, and noticed the flash of 
delight in Celeborn's jade eyes as he took them, if a little hesitantly. 

'Now,' began Celeborn, very matter-of-factly, as he unscrewed the lid of 
the inkbottle and dipped his pen in the liquid. 'Let us start with the letters, 
and continue from there.' 

Slowly and deliberately, the Elven-lord traced the first letter of the 
Tengwar alphabet, and then leaned back a little and showed it to Haldir. 
'Now, this letter represents the sound "teh",' he explained. 'All of the 
Tengwar letters that I am about to show you represent constanants - there 
are twenty-four of them. Vowels are made by adding marks to certain 
letters, but we will come to that later." 

Haldir watched in fascination as the nib of the quill formed the perfect 
bows and straightest stem of each letter, with Celeborn pronouncing each 
as he went, until finally there were twenty-four basic figures shaped on the 
paper. Haldir cocked his head to look at them as Celeborn turned the paper 
towards him and passed the inkbottle. 

'There, those are the basic letters,' he explained, using his own quill to 
point to each figure and proceeded to pronounce each letter again. 'Now, 
you try copying them.' 

Hesitantly, Haldir pulled the sheet of paper and the ink towards him, and 
dipped the end of his quill in the black liquid. Moving with caution - 
almost too much - he started to copy out the letters that Celeborn had 
written. His face was set in an expression of utter concentration as he 
focused his attentions on constructing the calligraphy, and after the first 
three letters he leaned back a little to admire his handiwork. He cocked his 
head to the left, and then to the right, appreciating the fine patterns on the 
paper that now meant something to him. 

A soft chuckle from Celeborn caught his attention, and he looked up 
anxiously. 'Is that correct?' he asked, hazel eyes wide lest it was not. 
Celeborn grinned and laughed again. 

'I should hope so; you have spent the past five minutes copying out those 
three letters alone!' Haldir flushed and looked away, though a small smile 
still played across his lips. 'Yes, don't worry, they are correct,' amended 
the Elven-lord, and the younger blond's smile grew wider. 'Can you 
remember what they sound like?' 

Haldir's beam faded into a frown as he tried to recall the sounds that 
matched the letters. 'That says "puh",' he said after a few moments' 
recollection, and pointed to the middle letter. Celeborn nodded 
encouragingly. 'And that one is "ch",' after another few moments, followed 
by another nod. 'And that one...that one says...oh, I cannot remember." 
Haldir shook his silver head in frustration. 

'"Teh",' offered Celeborn. 'Do not worry too much; it is difficult, and it is 
only your first lesson, after all. Try copying out the rest of the letters, now, 
before darkness is upon us and we have to go for dinner!" 

Haldir smiled again, despite himself, and picked up his quill to resume 
tracing the alphabet. 

~~~ 

Celeborn leaned back in his chair a little, whilst Haldir became absorbed 
in copying the letters in front of him. He looked decidedly more 
comfortable and at ease decided the Elven-lord, as he noticed the way in 
which the younger Elf poked the tip of his tongue out of his mouth in 
concentration and his brow was furrowed. He was unfazed by the fact that 
Celeborn was sitting in such close proximity to him, which came as a great 
relief to the elder Elf, and despite Haldir's application to his task Celeborn 
was nonetheless taken in by his beauty and innocence once again. 

Celeborn's own attentions were suddenly drawn to the sofa on which 
Elrohir was sprawled, and he looked up to see his grandson stirring. 
Elrohir blinked sleepily and rubbed his eyes before he seemed to 
remember where he was and glanced up to the table. Haldir failed to 
notice this, but Elrohir caught Celeborn's eye and both Elven-lords smiled 
knowingly at each other. The darker Elf inclined his head in a silent 
question, which was answered with a shrug of Celeborn's shoulders. 

Quietly taking the book from across his stomach, Elrohir stood up and 
padded softly over to the table where Haldir was sitting with his back to 
the sofa. He leaned over the shoulder of the silver-haired Elf to look at his 
work, and without thinking placed a hand on Haldir's back. 

Haldir started, not just from being aroused from his intense concentration 
but also because he was still somewhat jumpy. His right hand shot 
forwards across the paper, leaving a trail of ink from the quill, and 
collided with the inkbottle, which tipped over and spilled its black liquid 
contents over the table. Haldir's hand dropped the quill and immediately 
shot up to cover his mouth, his eyes wide as he stared in horror at the mess 
that he had created. 

Elrohir winced and mentally berated himself, but kept his hand on Haldir's 
shoulder, where he squeezed it reassuringly. Celeborn stood up hastily as 
the ink trickled across the table towards him, and blocked the flow with a 
spare sheet of paper. 

'Sorry, little one, that was my fault,' Elrohir assured the younger Elf, 
peering over his shoulder and into his face. The hand dropped away from 
the mouth, to show that the owner was now chewing anxiously on his 
bottom lip. 

'Oh...oh, I am so sorry,' he stammered, obviously not having heard what 
the raven-haired Elf had said. Elrohir slipped around to the side of the 
chair so he could look Haldir in the face, coercing the hazel eyes to meet 
his own chocolate pair by lifting his chin with two fingers. 

'It was not your fault, Haldir, it was mine,' insisted Elrohir, gesturing 
towards the mess with his free hand. 'I should have thought.' 

'Aye, do not fret, aier,' added Celeborn gently, having contained the spill 
and moving a little closer to the worried silver-haired Elf. ''Tis nothing that 
cannot be easily sorted; and look!' he exclaimed brightly, picking up a 
piece of paper, 'Your work escaped unscathed!' 

The youngest Elf could not help but smile a little at this. Elrohir extended 
his hand to take the paper, and examined it. 'This is good,' he nodded 
approvingly as he handed it back to Haldir. 'We shall have you reading 
Elvish in no time!' 

Haldir smiled wider. Celeborn had just opened his mouth to speak, when 
he heard footsteps behind the bookcases and looked up expectantly. His 
face fell slightly when he saw that it was Elladan who had joined them in 
the library; only the Valar knew what he would say to this. 

"Nowe amin aa'tua lle sinome," he said lightly, poking his head around the 
bookcase. "Vasa naa sha deseil." His gaze wandered from his grandfather 
to his twin, before it fell upon the black stain on the table. "Mani marte?" 

Elrohir shot his brother a warning look. "Kai, Elladan," he replied shortly. 
"Haldir ere' tamne or mornen. Ta naa tuaramin." 

Elladan raised an eyebrow. 'Of course it was, brother,' he responded, 
deliberately switching to Westron, his light tone of voice vanishing as he 
pinned Haldir with his brown, stony regard. 'Nothing to do with the brat at 
all, I'll wager.' 

Celeborn sent his eldest grandson a withering glare that silenced him 
instantly. 'Thank you for that, Elladan,' he drawled coolly. 'I hope that you 
are intending to eat in the kitchen, because I am not certain that I want you 
at the dinner table with us if you will insist on behaving like a spoiled 
child.' 

This was said to protect Haldir, and Celeborn cast a sideways glance at the 
younger blond. He was watching Elladan from his chair with a wary, 
guarded expression, though traces of shame and guilt were visible in his 
eyes. Realising that all eyes were upon him, he shook his silver head and 
pushed back his chair to stand. 

'I am sorry, I am being a bother,' he muttered, hanging his head so that his 
words were projected to the floor and barely audible. 'I should leave.' 

Celeborn caught his arm with a strong hand to prevent him from rushing 
off. 'Nay, aier, stay,' he insisted, staring at Elladan at the same time. 'It is 
not you who is being a bother; Elladan was just leaving, weren't you?' 

The elder twin glared daggers at his grandfather; a bone-chilling look that 
sent shivers right through Haldir. With no more words, Elladan turned on 
his heel and vanished behind the bookcase, flouncing out of the library 
with a sweep and rustle of his fine burgundy and gold robes. Elrohir 
sighed heavily and shook his head slowly. 

'I know not what is the matter with him, little one, and I can only 
apologise for his behaviour,' he stated, squeezing Haldir's other arm 
reassuringly. 'Come on, let us get some dinner, because I for one am 
famished!' 

To be continued...(and yes, I have inspiration now!) 

Elvish Translations:  
Nowe amin aa'tua lle sinome - I thought I might find you in here  
Vasa naa sha deseil - Dinner is almost ready  
Mani marte? - What happened?  
Kai, Elladan. Haldir ere' tamne or mornen. Ta naa tuaramin. - Nothing, 
Elladan. Haldir only knocked over the ink. It was my fault. 

A/N: I have taken all my references to Sindarin and the Tengwar alphabet 
from http://www.elvish.org/gwaith/movie.htm, and what references there 
are in the appendices of "Return of the King". 
  
  
***************  
Chapter 13  
*************** 

The Story

 
Elladan had taken a hint and was not present at the dinner table, Haldir 
was relieved to notice. He did not like the other twin a great deal. He 
always seemed to be finding ways to make Haldir feel small and 
insignificant, though without obvious reason. Elladan was so different to 
the other Elves here in Imladris, who all treated him with a measure of 
respect, and Haldir was puzzled as to how the two twins could look so 
alike and yet possess such completely different characters. 

But then again, he was like cheese compared to his chalky brothers. The 
sudden thought of his siblings made him close his eyes briefly, and a 
shudder ran through his body; he had not thought of them in ages, and had 
no clue as to why those memories had abruptly been recalled. Opening his 
eyes again, he was mildly surprised to find himself being curiously 
regarded by Celeborn and Elrohir, both of whom had paused eating. The 
traces of emotions linked to the memories of his brother must still have 
been showing in his face, because concern had crept into the luminescent 
jade eyes of the silver-haired Elven lord, and his expression had softened. 

'Is something wrong, aier?' he questioned, the kind look on his handsome 
face making Haldir avert his eyes self-consciously. 

'No, no,' he insisted hurriedly, shaking his head whilst still focusing on the 
flagstones. 'I was just thinking.' 

'What were you thinking about?' The question this time was from Elrohir, 
who also looked concerned. 'It cannot have been pleasant, for the colour 
has drained from your face and you look worried.' 

Haldir could feel himself automatically wringing his hands in his lap, 
though he did not seem to be consciously promoting the gesture, and it 
was a few long moments before he spoke again. 'I...I was thinking about 
my brothers.' 

Neither of the elder Elves had been expecting that, for Haldir looked up to 
see each gazing at the other with shock written across their features. 
Finally Celeborn spoke. 'You have family?' 

Haldir shrugged non-committally. 'Of sorts...I suppose you could say that.' 
His voice was quiet and melancholy as his brow creased. 'I do not think of 
them often.' 

'Why ever not?' It was Celeborn speaking again, the youngest Elf 
registered vaguely, for he had bowed his head again. 

'Because I do not wish to.' 

Elrohir inclined his dark head, wearing a peculiar expression of 
sympathetic curiosity. 'Would you talk about them?' Celeborn swatted his 
younger grandson on the shoulder with a frown. 

'Hush, Elrohir!' he hissed, deliberately speaking in Westron so that Haldir 
would know that he did not have to answer if he did not wish. 'Must you 
be so tactless!' 

'Nay, it is fine,' sighed the younger blond, waving a hand as though to 
silence the bickering. He missed the way in which Celeborn's face lit up at 
the confident gesture, and continued speaking. 'If you so wish to hear, then 
I would tell.' 

The former lord of ‘Lórien regarded Haldir with his intense emerald gaze. 
'Aier, if you do not wish to then you are not obliged to,' he assured the 
younger Elf, with a sideways glance at his grandson. 'Elrohir was merely 
being impertinent.' 

'If you wish to hear, then I will tell,' repeated Haldir, shrugging again. 
Elrohir looked slightly uncomfortable, and Celeborn glanced between the 
two. 

'Go on, then,' he urged at last. 'If I must confess, I too am a little curious.' 

~~~ 

Celeborn was indeed curious about Haldir's background. He had wondered 
several times as to how the younger Elf came to be raised by Men, and 
now he was willing to take the opportunity to learn. If Haldir was willing 
to tell them, that is. 

Haldir had pursed his lips, and had been silent for several minutes. He 
wore a strange expression on his fair features, a combination of 
bewilderment and pain, and it was obvious that he did not know where to 
begin. Elrohir opened his mouth to interject, but was silenced instantly by 
a pointed look from Celeborn. Haldir needed to do this in his own time. 

After a few more moments Haldir finally spoke. 'I was the youngest of the 
three,' he muttered distractedly, his eyes wide and glassy, and now fixed 
upon his hands that lay clenched upon the table. His dinner sat forgotten. 
'My mother died giving birth to me. My...my father, he...they blamed me 
for her death.' 

Celeborn felt his heart turn painfully in his chest, for the beautiful, 
crystalline hazel orbs had suddenly flooded with hurt. They belied the still 
vacant look on the fair features, punctuating the creamy skin with bright 
glints of light and emotion. The silver-haired Elf-lord stifled a cry, in order 
to allow Haldir to continue. 

'They sent me to the Dales, to be raised by the men there.' His voice 
quavered, then, but he cleared his throat and compelled himself to finish. 
'They said that I was to blame, and that they would not be able to look 
upon me again.' He stopped and smirked sardonically to himself at that, an 
expression that twisted his usually stunning features into a mask that tore 
at your heart upon sight. 'It is ironic, really.' He laughed, softly and wryly. 

Celeborn and Elrohir both spoke in the same instant, unable to contain 
themselves any longer. 

'Oh, Valar! How dreadful! How old were you?' 

'What is ironic?' 

The young silver-haired Elf looked up slowly, turning his head to look 
first at Elrohir, and shrugged. 'I was young. I do not remember it.' Sensing 
the next question, he answered before it was voiced. 'The Men told me 
often enough, and I was reminded when I returned to the Wood, too.' 

He now turned his head to answer Celeborn's question. 'That is what is 
ironic. They took me back, even though they supposedly swore never to 
see me again.' A pregnant pause. 'But they soon got rid of me again.' He 
sighed heavily and his shoulders slumped. Celeborn could see that this 
was tiring for the younger Elf, and before he could stop it his large, 
elegant hand had reached across the table to cover Haldir's that was still 
clenched on the tabletop. As expected Haldir jumped and turned wide 
hazel eyes to the elder Elf, but Celeborn kept his hand where it was. After 
a few moments the younger Elf settled slightly, though he still kept a wary 
eye on the hand over his. 

At that moment someone cleared their throat from Celeborn's other side, 
and he looked up to see one of the serving staff standing politely to one 
side. 

'Would you like some wine, my lords?' he asked, producing a carafe of 
deep red liquid, seemingly from nowhere. Celeborn instantly retracted his 
hand and shook his head, well aware of Haldir's suddenly wide and 
frightened eyes upon him. 

''Nay, thank you. I will drink water tonight,' he insisted, covering his glass 
with his hand, and Elrohir motioned likewise. 

'No wine tonight, then, thank you,' he dismissed the servant. 'Oh, unless 
you would like some, Haldir?' 

The younger Elf immediately shook his head. 'No, I will drink water,' he 
declined. Elrohir nodded, understanding, and waved the servant away. He 
then turned back to Haldir, as did Celeborn; something was nagging at the 
former Lord of ‘Lórien, and he wished to discover what it was. 

'You said you returned to the Wood, aier.' His voice was soft and 
thoughtful, almost as though he was speaking to himself, and his brow had 
creased slightly. 'Did you come from Lothlórien, then?' 

Haldir nodded. 'So I am told,' he muttered sadly. 

'What were Your brothers called? I must confess that I have heard nothing 
of the like whilst I resided there; indeed, I would have been furious to 
have discovered such a thing.' 

'My brothers - I think you know them. Their names are Rúmil and 
Orophin.' 

~~~
 
Haldir felt himself pale when he saw Celeborn's reaction to his confession; 
although his lips were pursed tightly into a thin, white line and the rest of 
his face expressionless, fury he would never have thought the Elven-lord 
capable of had filled his jade-hued eyes. Finally, after a few disbelieving 
glances at Elrohir, he spoke. 

'Rúmil and Orophin? They are your brothers?' 

Haldir nodded hesitantly, suddenly frightened of what Celeborn might do. 

'Your own brothers, my Guardians, would give you away just like that? 
Would send you away to be raised by Men and be treated as badly as you 
have been, because they blamed you for the death of your mother? I...I...' 
Celeborn was trembling from the force of his rage, and stopped speaking 
to take a deep breath. Haldir could see his tall, muscular body forcibly 
relax; then the Elven-lord turned to look at Haldir, and his face softened 
immediately upon registering the fright in the younger Elf's eyes. 'I am 
sorry, Haldir, I did not mean to scare you.' He ran a hand over his face. 'I 
just cannot believe that an Elf would do that to one of their kind - nay, 
their kin! Something must be done! I --' 

'No, please, leave it.' Haldir cut him off, and though his voice was quiet it 
stopped the irate Elven-lord in his tracks. 'It is not worth it; nothing can be 
changed now. I would not wish to return to them, anyway...I would rather 
stay here.' 

Celeborn raised an eyebrow. 'I know, aier, but you should know that I 
cannot just leave this, whatever the outcome is to be.' 

Haldir shook his head again. 'No, please, just forget about it.' His voice 
was laced with undertones of imploring, and his next words were hesitant 
and unsure. 'I...I do not want to be sent back there... I do not want to 
leave.' // And I do not want Rúmil or Orophin to come after me, either, // 
he added mentally. // Better they forget about me, and Celeborn about 
them. //

'If he does not wish you to, ata'da, then I would leave the matter,' spoke 
up Elrohir softly, fixing his grandfather with his dark regard. 'Nothing will 
be accomplished by raising the matter with Rúmil and Orophin. And 
besides,' he slipped Haldir a sly wink, 'you cannot teach Elvish and riding 
if you are tied up with other matters, can you?' 

Haldir felt his face light up, and even more so when Celeborn's face 
softened into a smile. 'Can I ride again tomorrow?' he pleaded, half hoping 
for another lesson and half steering away from the previous uncomfortable 
topic of conversation. Both Elven-lords laughed quietly. 

'If you so wish,' replied the elder, his eyes flicking over the younger blond. 
Suddenly his gaze fell upon the nearly full plate that Haldir had pushed 
away whilst talking, and his expression sobered slightly. 'Aren't you 
hungry?' 

A slow shake of the head from the Elf in question, who then yawed. 'No,' 
he replied, the word mostly obliterated by the deep intake of breath. In 
actual fact, he was exhausted from everything that had happened to him 
recently. Physically and emotionally, he was drained, and was unable to 
suppress the next yawn that succeeded these thoughts. 

Celeborn laughed again. 'I think you had better go to bed,' he suggested, 
instinctively going to stand from his chair. Haldir instantly stiffened in his 
own chair and closed his eyes momentarily. // No,// he thought 
desperately, feeling his breathing grow shorter and shallower and his heart 
accelerate its rhythm. // He would not, he promised... he has not drunk any 
wine... //

A few seconds passed but nothing happened, so warily Haldir opened his 
eyes and risked a glance at Celeborn. The former Lord of ‘Lórien was, he 
was relieved to see, still sitting. He was sharing glares with his grandson, 
whilst at the same time bending down and rubbing his shin. Haldir sat still, 
feeling his pulse quicken only slightly when Celeborn looked at him again, 
and the next words spoken had never sounded so calming before. 

'I believe you know the way?' 

To be continued... 


***************
Chapter Fourteen
***************

The Unheeded Conscience

Haldir awoke the next morning to a tapping on his door, and he heard his 
name being called. He sat up immediately in the bed, eyes wide and back 
stiff, for it was Celeborn's voice that he could hear on the other side of the 
door.

'Haldir? Aier, are you awake yet?'

Slowly, Haldir got to his feet, mumbling distractedly that he would be 
there in a second as he looked around for something else that he could 
easily put on over the sleeping robe that he was already wearing. In the 
absence of a dressing gown or other convenient item of clothing, he pulled 
the large top blanket from the bed and wrapped it tightly around his 
shoulders so that it fell to the floor and hid the shape of his body. He then 
shuffled over to the door, and called back to the Elven-lord on the other 
side of it.

'Yes? I'm here.'

'Ah, about time, pencoiannar'! What time do you call this! 'Tis nearly 
eleven o'clock; you will miss your riding lesson!'

Haldir's face broke into a brilliant smile at the mention of this, and he 
moved to pull away the chair that he had placed under the door handle the 
night before, to prevent anyone from entering lest they pick the lock. He 
pushed it to one side, wincing as the legs scraped on the floor and 
announced his actions to Celeborn, and then turned the key in the lock. 
Cracking it open, the blanket still wrapped protectively around his body, 
he peered out into the corridor to see the tall, silver-haired Elven lord 
leaning casually against the doorframe. Celeborn raised an eyebrow in 
amusement.

'You are dressed and ready, I see!'

Haldir felt himself flushing furiously, and he looked down at the floor. 
'Sorry,' he muttered backing away from the opening in the door and going 
to close it again. 'I shall just get ready - I won't be a moment...'

He was prevented from closing the door fully by a hand that was placed in 
the way, however, and he froze instantly as it was pushed back open again. 
Celeborn peered around it, smiling, although his face fell when he saw the 
terrified expression on the younger Elf's face and his rigid posture. Visibly 
moving backwards to a less threatening distance, which reassured Haldir, 
if only minutely, the elder Elf extended one arm through the crack in the 
door. He held a bundle of cloth, which he was obviously offering to 
Haldir, and the younger blond took it warily as he eyed Celeborn from the 
corner of his eye.

'Breeches,' explained Celeborn simply, taking another step back. 'They are 
yours, and in the colours of Lothlórien; I thought that since you are a 
member of the Galadhrim, you should dress as such. There is a green tunic 
and golden shirt there, too.'

Haldir smiled weakly down at the clothes in his hands. 'Thank you,' he 
said softly, touched by such a simple thought on the Elven-lord's part, and 
then, glancing up, added after another moment, //"Diola lle."//

The beam that spread across Celeborn's face announced that his Elvish 
was correct, and he lifted his smile from the breeches to the elder Elf's 
face as he moved to close the door once again, muttering as he went, 'I 
shall be down in a moment.'

~~~

Celeborn's smile was bittersweet as Haldir closed the door on him, his 
sharp Elven hearing picking up on the click of the lock and the scrape of 
the chair to its place below the handle. //Ah, well, it is to be expected,// he 
shrugged resignedly as he turned to wander slowly down the corridor, 
towards the entrance hall where he would await the younger Elf. //At least 
he opened the door to you.//

As he reached the top of the stairs, he noticed that Elrohir was passing 
through the entrance hall below. Celeborn called out to his younger 
grandson, who stopped, turned, and waited for his grandfather with a grin. 
The silver-haired Elven-lord descended down the steps, greeting the 
younger twin with a clap on the shoulder.

"How fare you this morning?" smiled the fair Elf, making his way to a 
bench near the door. Elrohir followed him, and both sat down.

"Well, thank you. Yourself? What are your intentions today?"

Celeborn offered a wry smile. "Better than yesterday. I was planning to 
give the Elfling another riding lesson."

Elrohir found himself unable to keep scepticism from creeping into his 
expression, though he almost succeeded in keeping it from his voice. "Is 
that really wise? It has only been two days, after all, and aside from the 
fact it would only be the two of you, there is als--"

He was interrupted by the sound of hurried footsteps at the top of the 
stairs, and both Elven-lords looked up in amusement to see the 
aforementioned Elfling come scrambling down them. It was only when 
Haldir was almost two-thirds of the way down that he registered the eyes 
upon him, and he ground to a halt, frozen to the spot, dropping his eyes to 
the step he was standing on. Celeborn glanced sideways at Elrohir, and 
shrugged.

"He seems eager enough," he commented, in Elvish so that Haldir would 
not understand. Elrohir raised an eyebrow, but said nothing.

~~~

'My, my, enthusiastic this morning, aren't we, aier?' Celeborn's deep 
voice, tainted with amusement, caused Haldir to look up, and he grinned 
sheepishly.  The hazel orbs then flicked to the younger, dark-haired Elf 
standing beside Celeborn, and Haldir nodded to him in greeting. Elrohir 
nodded back, his eyes belying where the corners of his mouth twitched 
upwards.

'Morning, Haldir. Look at this; you seem to have turned into a member of 
the Galadhrim overnight!'

Haldir chuckled softly. 'Aye...they are mine...your grandfather gave them 
to me.' Elrohir lifted his chin, and the younger Elf caught the sidelong 
glance that the twin sent Celeborn. A momentary, silent exchange passed 
between the two Elven-lords, but finally it appeared to Haldir that 
Celeborn claimed the victory, for Elrohir sighed and turned away, 
muttering to his grandfather in Elvish as he went.

//"Tereva; ere' daro erin i talaf. Ro n'gorga lle vee' sai."//

Celeborn murmured back to him, and this time Elrohir's smile was 
genuine when he offered it to Haldir on his way past.

'Enjoy your ride, little one.' He moved to clap the younger Elf on the 
shoulder, but despite his best efforts Haldir was unable to prevent himself 
from flinching away. He bit his lip and screwed his eyes shut in 
frustration, knowing that Elrohir was not going to harm him, then opened 
his eyes again to gaze apologetically at the elder Elf. Elrohir's dark eyes 
were understanding, and he gently reached out to touch Haldir's hand, but 
that did not stop him from shooting a pointed look back at his grandfather 
as he swept off down the corridor. Celeborn rolled his eyes over-
dramatically at Haldir, upon which the younger Elf could not refrain from 
emitting a soft snort of amusement despite himself. The Elven-lord's face 
broke into a wide grin at this, highlighting his fair features, and beckoned 
for Haldir to follow him as he turned to move outside.

Apprehension now gripped Haldir as he finished descending the flight of 
stairs and walked through the entrance hall towards the great doors on the 
far side. In his previous excitement, brought about by the thought of 
another riding lesson, he had failed to consider the fact that he would once 
again be alone with Celeborn, but now that the idea had been raised in his 
mind he could not help but feel slightly scared. Of course, Celeborn had 
promised that he would not harm him again...

//..but didn't he promise not to harm you before?//

He's trying to show how sorry he is...

//...well, I suppose that he's trying to help you...//

He //is// trying to help me; he's trying to regain my trust.

//Ah, but can you afford to trust him?//

Can I afford //not// to trust him?

Haldir stopped suddenly and shook his head in confusion; he did not know 
what to think any longer. By this point Celeborn was several steps further 
ahead of him, and it was only at this point that the Elven-lord realised that 
his younger charge had stopped. He glanced over his shoulder, and, seeing 
that Haldir was standing in the middle of the path, turned around and took 
a few steps towards him.

'Haldir? What is the matter?' 

Instantly and, as it had become, instinctively, Haldir felt himself tense up 
as the elder Elf approached. He tried to suppress the shaking of his hands 
that now seemed a customary accompaniment to his rigid form, but when 
he found himself unable to do so he simply tried to disguise it by hiding 
them behind his back. Then, realising that Celeborn was waiting for an 
answer, he went to speak.

Nothing came out.

Swallowing hard, he tried again, and swiftly sent praises to the gods of 
Men that he had been raised to believe in when the words came out 
coherently. 'Nothing; I am well. I...I shall follow you.'

Celeborn raised his eyebrows and pursed his lips in a manner that Haldir 
could not quite read - it seemed almost like chagrin, though the younger 
Elf could not fathom why, and he wondered what Elrohir had said. The 
jade eyes, however, pooled with sorrow, and that guilt that Haldir had now 
seen more than once in them, as they turned back to focus on the direction 
in which the Elven-lord was headed. With an inaudible sigh and a mental 
shake, Haldir waited until Celeborn was a few steps further in front, and 
then set about following him at what he considered to be a safe enough 
distance.

~~~

Much as Celeborn hated to admit it, Elrohir had been right. He shook his 
silver head sadly at the frustration of the situation, and cursed himself yet 
again, as he had become prone to doing over the past few days. He 
glanced over his shoulder again, to ensure that Haldir was following him 
now, but soon realised that the younger Elf needed some form of 
reassurance when he saw the way in which he was walking - or rather, 
shuffling - along behind.

'I thought I would instruct you from the ground today, aier,' he called 
back, feigning nonchalance. He did not want it to appear as though he was 
trying too hard to win the younger Elf's trust back. Another sly peek over 
his shoulder revealed Haldir regarding him with his head cocked 
curiously, hazel eyes wide in what was most likely suspicion. Catching the 
flash of green, however, he held the gaze squarely, and lifted his chin.

'Why?'

The question caught Celeborn off-guard, and he had to pause for a few 
heartbeats' thought. 'I thought it would be the quickest way for you to 
learn,' he answered finally, glad of the certainty in his tone. 'From the 
ground, I am not concentrating on my own riding, and so can pick up 
faster on what you are doing wrong.' Seeming to accept the answer, Haldir 
nodded once but offered no further words, and continued to walk slowly 
behind the Elven-lord. 

It did not take long for them to reach the stables, and Celeborn went to 
enter the barn. He sensed, however, that Haldir had not followed, and 
glanced back again to see him standing just outside the large double doors, 
an anxious expression upon his face. Celeborn sighed inwardly, though he 
tried once more to keep his expression as calm as possible, and pretended 
not to notice Haldir's hesitation.

'If you wait there, aier, I will bring you your horse,' he called, now looking 
back at the younger Elf. Although he was clearly trying not to let it, the 
hint of a bright smile played over Haldir's lips, and his posture visibly 
relaxed as he nodded and took a few steps away.

'Thank you,' he called back, then turning and disappearing from view, to 
Celeborn's regret. Sighing, the Elven-lord busied himself with readying 
Sadoriel.

***

Simply mounting Sadoriel had proved to be a totally nerve-wracking 
experience for Haldir; it was clear that Celeborn had sensed that a distance 
of a mere few yards was enough to send shivers of fear through his body, 
so giving the younger Elf a leg-up would have been utterly out of the 
question. Eager to start the lesson as soon as possible, and unwilling to 
show Haldir how to mount by himself just yet, he had settled for the use of 
a mounting block, and now they made their way over to an empty, 
enclosed field.

Celeborn stood in the centre of the field, and instructed Haldir to steer 
Sadoriel around the edge of the paddock in walk, using the Elvish vocal 
aids that he had been taught before to turn and halt occasionally. To his 
surprise as he watched the younger Elf, the Elven-lord registered that 
Haldir looked rather uncomfortable as he sat in the saddle; he thought 
nothing of it, however, and instead continued with the lesson.

'That is good, Haldir, I like your leg position,' he called out, noting with a 
secretive smile the flush of pride that momentarily tainted the other Elf's 
features. 'How would you feel about a trot?'

Hazel orbs danced sideways over to him, proceeded by a curt nod, and 
Celeborn smiled again; Haldir was trying so hard to keep a proper riding 
position that he dare not move his head! 

'You can look at me, you know - you do not have to stare straight ahead of 
you the entire time! Just relax a little.'

Haldir nodded again, and his position did relax a little, though Celeborn 
found it difficult to tell whether it was because he was truly following the 
instructions or whether his shoulders had slumped in his usual damned 
embarrassment. Sighing inwardly, he decided to ignore it and continued to 
advise Haldir how to trot.

'Right, the command for trot is //"no' rimo"//, but you need to try and rise 
to the gait. You should be able to feel two beats - try and stand in the 
stirrups to one, and then sit down to the other.' The younger Elf's brow 
furrowed as he tried to concentrate on what he was being told. 'And you 
give another aid, too. First, shorten your reins a little, like you have been 
taught.' Haldir did as he was instructed, and Celeborn continued. 'Good. 
Now, give the command, and at the same time squeeze lightly with your 
heels. You might want to hold onto the saddle; trot can be a little bumpy at 
first.'

Again, Haldir did as he was told, repeating the Elvish command and 
squeezing Sadoriel's sides with his heels. The mare obediently moved up 
into trot, and instantly Celeborn saw the Elfling's hands fly to the pommel 
of the saddle to peg him into a more secure and comfortable position. 
Although Celeborn was unable to recall the first time he had trotted on a 
horse, he could recall that it had taken him some weeks to get used to the 
strange up-down motion that you were supposed to do, making the pace 
easier to ride to.

'Try to stand and sit like I told you, aier,' called the Elven-lord, realising 
that Haldir need a little help and encouragement. 'One-two-one-two...come 
on, up-down-up-down...'

It was clear that Haldir was trying his hardest to master the rising trot, but 
he was not having much success, and in fact seemed to be in a measurable 
amount of pain. His fair features had contorted as he clutched at the 
pommel of the saddle still, brow furrowed in distress. Concerned, 
Celeborn called out to Sadoriel, and the mare instantly came to a stand.

'Are you alright, aier?' he asked gently as he approached the halted horse, 
and the silver-haired rider who was wriggling uncomfortably in the saddle. 
Haldir looked over to him, hazel eyes large and sparkling with unshed 
tears, bottom lip caught between his teeth, and nodded.

'Aye, I am fine,' he muttered. Celeborn raised an eyebrow.

'Obviously; that is why you seem to be in pain,' he admonished gently, 
jade eyes sweeping over the younger Elf's body as he attempted to 
determine the problem. 'Tell me, what is the matt...oh...'

His eyes had come to rest upon Haldir's backside, and, to his dismay, a 
few dark spots of blood stained the green breeches. Unconsciously, he 
brought his hand up to his mouth and bit nervously on his knuckle for a 
second, then lowered it and looked up to Haldir with tearful eyes. 

'Oh, Haldir, I am so sorry,' he whispered, taking a step closer to the 
younger Elf. 'It has only been two day - I should have thought...I...come 
on, get off this horse.'

As he drew closer, Haldir instantly stiffened in the saddle, eyes widening 
in fright. 'No, stay there,' he breathed, seemingly unable to remove his 
hazel orbs from the elder Elf. 'Please, just stay there.' The anguish in the 
words made Celeborn's heart sink into his boots, but he did as was 
requested of him nonetheless, watching in dismay as Haldir dismounted 
on the side that was farthest away from him and backed away, before 
turning on his heels and running awkwardly back to the house.

To be continued...

Elvish Translations:

Pencoiannar' - Lazy bones
Diola lle - Thank you
Tereva; ere' daro erin i talaf. Ro n'gorga lle vee' sai  -Fine; just stay on 
the ground. He won't fear you as much


***************
Chapter Fifteen
***************

The Hidden Story

The next four weeks passed, regrettably, in much the same way. Celeborn 
grew frustrated at the one-step-forward-two-steps-back manner in which 
events seemed to progress - although, as Elrohir had once sagely offered, 
it was preferable to a total diversion from the intended course.

The former Lord of ‘Lórien spent his time trying to regain Haldir's trust, 
and wooing him with lessons in Elvish and - later on - guidance in riding a 
horse seemed the best place to begin. Haldir now had a basic 
understanding of Sindarin, which, although encouraging in its own way, 
meant that Celeborn and Elrohir could no longer talk about him in the 
Elfling's presence, and often had to revert to the almost defunct Quenya 
whenever anything vital needed to be said.

Elladan, predictably, hindered progressions rather than helped; he seemed 
to have the innate ability to place the fear of Manwë in the younger Elf. 
Whenever Haldir just seemed to be settling down and growing a little 
more confident, a sly and calculated verbal assault would be launched at 
the hapless Elfling, sending him packing to his room in tears and leaving 
an irate Celeborn to deal with the object of this next unnecessary step 
backwards.

Now, over a month after the rape, Celeborn sat alone in the library. An 
open book lay on the table before him, though read it was not; instead, the 
Elven-lord's green eyes were focused on the thin air before them, glassy to 
the surface, although emotions swirled within. He was well aware of the 
fact that Haldir was still somewhat suspicious of him, his actions guarded 
and his manner chary around the elder Elf, and it pained him to know that 
he was the cause. It was all justified, of course, but it hurt nonetheless - 
and the blame that Celeborn had taken largely upon his own shoulders did 
not make this burden any easier to bear. The incident with the riding 
lesson just a few days after the rape had been a major stumbling block; it 
had taken Celeborn the best part of a week to build Haldir's trust back up 
to the previous levels. And that was not the only thing that had hindered 
their progress, either. Setbacks were bound to occur, but even so... 

//Ah, and speaking of set-backs...//

A dark head popped around one of the bookshelves, wearing a 
suspiciously cheerful expression. Celeborn arched an eyebrow dubiously 
at his elder grandson. The increasing tension in their relationship was 
beginning to show, try to suppress it as he might, and yet //still// Elladan 
insisted on needlessly tormenting his poor little Elfling, who had already 
suffered so much. At one point, it had come to the stage where Celeborn 
had actually considered taking a switch to Elladan's backside - as he was 
beginning to think that his father should have done when he was younger. 
It was far beyond him as to why his grandson should act like such a 
spoiled brat; Elrohir most certainly did not, and in fact seemed to be the 
only person in the house in whom Haldir felt he could wholly place his 
trust.

With a sigh to himself, Celeborn turned his attentions to the infuriating 
enigma that was his elder grandson. "What have you done this time, 
Elladan?"

Elladan's dark eyes went wide in feigned indignity, and he placed a hand 
over his breast as though wounded. "Ata'da, I am shocked," he declared 
gravely(,) as the beam vanished from his face - though he could not keep 
the twinkles from his eyes. "How can you be so suspicious?"

Celeborn regarded him, wearing a somewhat cynical and long-suffering 
expression. "You come in here, grinning like a fiend, Elladan," he replied 
evenly. "You have not exactly given me due cause to trust you lately, have 
you?"

"Nothing which I have done has been //un//due," retorted the younger 
Elven-lord, moving casually to a chair on the opposite side of the table and 
sitting, sprawling, into it.

An exasperated groan left the silver-haired Elf's throat before he was 
unable to stifle it. "I understand that my reputation of infinite patience 
precedes me, Elladan," he muttered tightly, "but  you are beginning to try 
it."

Elladan cocked his head. "How so?"

Celeborn eyed at him for a few seconds, unable to determine if the 
innocence-laden tone of the question was sincere. Eventually he decided 
that it was not; how could Elladan possibly act that way towards Haldir 
without intending to?

"You know of what I speak, gweniaur." He almost winced at how 
condescending that remark came out, but then found that he couldn't bring 
himself to show that he regretted it.

Elladan shook his head earnestly, the twinkle now gone from his eyes and 
his expression puzzled. "Nay, I confess I do not..."

Celeborn passed his hands over his face, biting his tongue. "Your 
behaviour towards Haldir, Elladan - I cannot fathom why you treat him so. 
The poor child has done nothing to deserve such malicious handling, and 
much --"

The younger Elf's eyes blackened a shade at the very mention of Haldir's 
name, and a shadow crossed his handsome features, posture stiffening in 
an instant. "Is that why you sit in here, grandfather?" he spat, cutting 
Celeborn off in his tracks. "Sit in here brooding, over my behaviour 
towards one, poor, spoiled little brat? How many times do I have to tell 
you? You must be blind if you cannot see this; stop wasting your oh-so 
precious time over him! He is a body, nothing more and nothing less; he is 
a //sex-slave//, and that is how he should be treated and used! He is not 
some pet, for you to mollycoddle and coo over; he is there for you to make 
use of, when the nights become lonely, now that your wife has abandoned 
you, and...and..."

During this outburst Elladan had risen to his feet, and was now 
gesticulating wildly as the words rushed out of his mouth. His voice had 
become loud, strained and harsh, and he was breathing hard, though he 
tailed off towards the end with a few choked gasps.

Celeborn stared at him in utter amazement for a few seconds, mouth 
agape, but finally he succeeded in pulling himself together, and rose to his 
feet with his eyes now dark and flashing ominously.

"How dare you!" he boomed, his deep voice ringing around the library and 
almost deafening Elladan. "I know for a fact that your father did not bring 
you up to be the narrow-minded, selfish, //prejudiced// little wretch that 
you are acting like at this minute, and I suggest that you snap out of it this 
very instant ere I take a cane to your thick-skinned backside!"

Elladan stood, stance defiant and challenging, staring his grandfather 
straight in the bone-chilling depths of his tempestuous jade orbs. He had 
never been on the receiving end of Celeborn's wrath before, and had only 
seen it at one other point; the Elven-lord could certainly be terrifying when 
the situation called for it, but the twin did not quail.

"I am not some Elfling that you can simply sling over your knee at the first 
sign of misbehaviour, grandfather," he drawled coolly, crossing his arms 
and raising his chin in a gesture that just screamed mutiny. "Although I 
suggest that if you have a dispute to settle with my father about our 
upbringing, you bugger off to Valinor and take it up with him there. 
Believe me; I will not be stopping you. On either account."

Suddenly, Celeborn appeared to grow a good six inches in height, now 
towering over his eldest grandson in a manner which Elladan //did// find 
terrifying. He seemed transfixed to the spot, unable to move or look away 
from the formidable presence before him, and he vaguely felt his jaw drop 
as he looked up to Celeborn in dread.

"Watch your tongue, you audacious little bastard!" Elladan had to refrain 
from flinching at the fearsome tone. "This may not be my house and this 
may not be my realm, but that does not give you authority to speak to me 
like that! Nor does the fact that it //is// your house and that it //is// your 
realm give you the authority to treat Haldir as you do! He may have been 
given to me as a consort, but that does //not//make him a sex-slave! He is a 
living creature, same as you and I, and he deserves to be treated as such! 
Do I make myself clear?"

"Crystal."

Despite the faint trembling of his limbs, Elladan's voice was amazingly 
even when he replied. Celeborn pursed his lips, and then gave a sharp jerk 
of his head, followed by a curt sweep of his hand.

"Good. Now get out of my sight."

"Gladly," retorted Elladan quietly, tone venom-laced, and eyes glinting 
with something more than rage. "Although may I suggest that you wake 
up and see the bigger picture, ata'da. You are as bad as my father."

Then, before Celeborn was given a chance to react, Elladan had turned on 
his heel and vanished behind the bookshelves. Just as he was about to head 
back to his chair and collapse into it, though, he heard a yelp and a 
whimper from the doorway, and grimaced at what he knew was to come.

"Elladan!" he cautioned. Whispers and muffled sounds ensued from the 
direction of the door, hidden from Celeborn's view by the bookcases, but 
just as he was about to investigate further, he heard loud, brisk footsteps 
reverberating down the corridor, and heaved a sigh of relief.

"Come in Elrohir, Haldir," he called, and sank into his chair, focusing on 
the wood of the table. A few seconds passed before the two Elves 
materialised in front of him. Elrohir looked worried, his eyebrows drawn 
together in his concern, and he had one hand protectively on Haldir's 
shoulder. The younger, silver-haired Elf's face was flushed crimson to the 
tips of his pointed ears, and his hazel eyes were averted to the floor in 
shame as he absentmindedly rubbed his wrist. Celeborn glanced up at 
them both, letting out his breath on a weighty exhalation when he saw the 
state of his Elfling.

"Are you alright, aier?" he asked, his voice suddenly very weary. Haldir's 
head snapped up and he looked over to the seated Elven-lord, nodding 
vehemently.

"Aye, aye, I am fine," he replied earnestly, glowing slightly with the fact 
that he had answered the Elvish question in the same language. Celeborn 
released a strained chuckle, and Elrohir regarded him with intent.

"Man martë?" he asked, careful about his choice of language, since he was 
keen not to draw Haldir into the situation if it could be helped. "Sí man 
quentës?" Celeborn shrugged noncommittally, his eyes flicking across to 
Haldir.

"Elyë uin merë ista." Elrohir arched an eyebrow.

"Yana faica?"

Celeborn nodded, and Haldir tugged on Elrohir's sleeve, obviously 
confused.

'I do not understand,' he whispered to the dark-haired Elf in Westron. 
Elrohir waved away the question and exchanged a silent conversation with 
his grandfather, before he turned to the other silver-haired Elf demanding 
his attention.

'It isn't important,' he assured him. Haldir looked somewhat sceptical, but 
said nothing. 'Why do you not go back to your room for a while, little one? 
I need to speak with my grandfather for a moment - here...' He slipped 
behind the bookshelf, and emerged holding a leather-bound volume. 'Try 
reading this. I will come and fetch you when dinner is ready.'

Haldir looked at the cover of the book, and brushed at it absently with the 
back of his hand, before he nodded once and left the library. Once he was 
gone, Elrohir looked over to Celeborn with a sly smirk.

""The Return of the Noldor"," he snickered, settling himself into a chair 
opposite his grandfather. "That should keep him occupied for a while! 
Now; tell me what just happened in here."

Elvish Translations: (All these are Quenya)

Man martë? - What happened?
Sí man quentës? - Now what has he said?
Elyë uin merë ista - You don't want to know.
Yana faica? - That bad?


***************
Chapter Sixteen
***************

The Flashback

 His steps were slow and the hallways were quiet as Haldir made his way 
back to his room, heavy volume in hand. He was a little bemused as to 
what had actually happened between Celeborn and Elladan in the library 
just then; he and Elrohir had been only a short distance away when they 
had heard raised, angry voices, and immediately looked for the source. 
Just as they had reached the doors of the library, however, which was 
where the shouting seemed to originate from, Elladan had come storming 
out from behind the bookshelves, countenance as black as Morgoth on a 
bad day.

Elrohir had seemed worried and tried to stop his brother, but the elder twin 
had blatantly ignored the younger and continued in his path, knocking 
Haldir against the door as he went, so that the silver-haired Elf banged his 
wrist. A warning voice, carrying Elladan's name, had arisen from deeper 
inside the library, and with a foul scowl twisting his features the irate Elf 
had vanished into the corridor, despite Elrohir's attempts to prevent him 
from leaving.

An investigation into the library had revealed a somewhat haggard-
looking Celeborn slumped in a chair at the table, his features bearing a 
faint tinge of red as evidence of his fury just moments before. //Although,// 
thought Haldir to himself as he reached his bedroom door and opened it, 
//he did still humour me when I spoke to him in Elvish.//

Closing the door behind him, Haldir made for the chair in the corner and 
pulled it up to the small desk that also occupied that part of the room. The 
book that he settled upon it was too heavy and awkwardly fat for him to sit 
and read comfortably in a chair, so instead he seated himself at the desk 
and opened it to the first page, noting with muted discouragement the 
layer of dust that was left upon his fingertips.

A frown had spread over the young Elf's fair features before he had even 
reached the bottom of the first, yellowed page. How in Arda did Elrohir 
expect him to read this?! The language was old-fashioned and flowery, 
filled with unnecessary flourishes and out-dated turns of phrase - and 
those were the bits that Haldir actually understood. He could only 
recognise about one-third of the words written, at best, his vocabulary 
limited as it was, and although he tried for over half an hour to read the 
damned thing, his perseverance eventually gave out and he closed it with a 
thud of heavy paper against paper. //At least that explains the layer of 
dust...//

Haldir realised that Elrohir had not given him that book as a reading 
exercise; he knew that the Elven-lord had wanted to get rid of him for a 
while so he could talk with his obviously peeved grandfather about that 
incident with the elder of the twins. No words had been distinguished from 
the raised voices penetrating the walls and door, and by the time Haldir 
and Elrohir had arrived the argument had blown itself out.

The expression upon Elladan's face had been tortured; his brow was 
contorted, lips pursed tightly together into a thin, white line, and his dark 
eyes burned with...//not rage, but something akin to...fear, almost...// He 
had started when Elrohir had placed a hand gently upon his shoulder, head 
snapping round and body tensing. Haldir, pushed aside as the elder twin 
barged past, had been unable to stifle a soft yelp as he banged his wrist - 
although the murderous look that Elladan shot his way soon did that for 
him. The unbridled emotion flashing in those turbulent orbs had pierced 
the younger Elf to the very core of his naive and innocent soul, and he had 
been forced to look away with a muttered apology on his lips.

He definitely did not like Elladan.

Suddenly, a knock came at the door. Puzzled, Haldir stood and went to 
answer it, knowing that it was too early for Elrohir to summon him to 
dinner. However, when he had unlocked the door and cracked it open, the 
person whom he saw was standing outside was, indeed, Elrohir, smiling 
kindly down at him.

'How are you getting on with that book, little one?' he asked, leaning 
against the doorframe. Haldir sighed and rolled his eyes over-dramatically, 
then shook his head.

'Badly,' he replied regretfully. ''Tis too difficult for me yet.'

The dark-haired Elf inclined his head. 'Would you like a hand with it?' he 
offered. 'It is a very interesting tale, and I think that you should try and 
read at least part of it soon.'

Haldir considered for a second before he accepted, and moved aside to 
allow the elder Elf into the room. All and sundry knew by this point that 
Elrohir was the only person whom he wholly trusted.

Elrohir walked into the bedroom and towards the desk, smirking when he 
saw the closed book, patterns traced idly in the dust as Haldir had sat 
thinking.

'Given up, have we?' he laughed, looking over to Haldir who had settled 
himself on the bed instead. A nod and a groan ensued, and the silver-
haired Elf flopped backwards onto the mattress. Laughing again, Elrohir 
stood and joined Haldir upon the bed, sitting on the edge by his side. For 
some reason, Haldir felt a little uncomfortable and fidgeted 
uncomfortably, set on edge by the proximity of the elder. Carefully, so as 
not to draw attention to this fact, he sat up and moved away from him 
slightly. To his dismay Elrohir only moved closer, an unfathomable glint 
within his eyes, and leaned in towards Haldir.

'Are you alright after that incident earlier?' he questioned. 'Everyone 
seemed rather upset, don't you think?'

Haldir nodded, warily; he could not tell why he felt so uneasy at that 
moment, for he had always trusted Elrohir since his arrival in Imladris, but 
now that was definitely not the case. 'I am fine,' he assured the dark-haired 
Elf in a soft, cautious voice, and then added to himself, 'I know not what is 
wrong with Elladan, though.'

'No one does.' The response to his musings caught him off-guard with the 
coolness of its tone and the evenness of its words, followed by a soft 
laugh, and for some reason Haldir shivered. 'Though perhaps they will 
find out soon enough.'

The blood drained from Haldir's face at Elrohir's next actions; the elder Elf 
brought his hand up to cup the cheek of the younger, following up the 
motion by a gentle yet blatantly intended caress of the tip of his ear. Haldir 
squeezed his eyes shut and bit his lip, his body instantly paralysed by 
shock.

//No, not again...this cannot be happening again...//

It took all his willpower to force motion into his body and turn his head 
away from the touch, but he could easily have died there and then when all 
Elrohir did was to follow his movement. 

'No...' A barely audible whisper brushed over his lips in protest, but it was 
ignored. Instead Elrohir sidled closer upon the bed, this time placing a 
hand on the inside of Haldir's thigh whilst the other was laid, palm down, 
over his breast.

'Shh, do not be scared, little one.' That hand on his breast was now fiddling 
with the buttons to his shirt. Haldir held his breath and closed his eyes, 
praying and praying that this was not happening, that the dreams were 
returning and nothing more, but still the hands continued to fondle the 
tense flesh beneath them. Suddenly, a pair of supple lips pressed to his 
own sliced through the darkness, and the hand on his leg moved to cup his 
groin, bringing light once again as his eyes flew open and his body now 
leapt off the bed out of its own accord.

Fingers caught the opening of his shirt, but his forward momentum merely 
caused it to rip instead of acting as a restraint. He squirmed away from the 
hands that reached for him, nimbly avoiding them, although how he did so 
was beyond him. He could not, however, avoid the harsh words so easily, 
which were spat at him as the owner rushed to the door and blocked his 
path.

'//What// do you think you are doing?! Don't you know what you are here 
for? You are here as a slave, here to please and nothing more. You are just 
a body to have sex with, do you understand? It is time for you to realise 
your purpose in life, nadorhuan. I can see that he has spoilt you already, 
and you need to be taught. Now come here.'

He may have been scared, he may not have spoken much Elvish, and he 
may have been uneducated in the ways of life, but Elrohir must have 
thought that Haldir was plain stupid if he was going to obey //that//. For 
the first time in his life, he intentionally disobeyed an order.

'No.' The single word was quiet and croaked, but it resounded throughout 
the room in a similar manner to the Horn of Gondor. Then, without a 
second thought, Haldir turned and rushed towards the unlocked doors to 
the balcony. He heard only a few, long-spaced footsteps behind him 
before a weight attached itself around his knees, and he was sent tumbling 
to the floor, twisting onto his back as he hit the ground.

The elder Elf clawed his way up the kicking and struggling body of the 
younger, slighter figure, trying to gain control over him. Haldir felt panic 
creeping upon him when Elrohir finally managed to climb up onto his 
upper legs, and reached down to grasp his throat. However, before the 
hands could fasten themselves to him, his own flashed out and grabbed 
hold of one with a swiftness that he never knew he possessed. Satisfied 
with his catch, he brought it up to his mouth and sank his teeth deep into 
the fleshy part just below the thumb.

The Elf atop him uttered hiss of pain as Haldir tasted metallic blood, and 
whilst Elrohir's guards were down the younger Elf took the chance to 
scrabble out from under him and leap to his feet.  Elrohir was not far 
behind him, however, and was still situated between Haldir and the door. 
The only method of escape was the balcony.

Pausing for a mere instant, he climbed swiftly over the balcony railings 
and grasped onto the ivy that was growing alongside it, hurrying all the 
more for the fact that he could hear Elrohir behind him. Both Elves rapidly 
descended from the second floor by effective use of the plant, each 
desperate in their attempts to chase and escape. 

Haldir dropped neatly to the grass, landing on his feet, and instantly took 
off into the darkness. Elrohir was still only a heartbeat behind him, 
however, and he felt a hand swipe at his shoulder occasionally as he ran 
blindly into the trees that marked the edge of the forest, panic and fear 
now choking him with every shallow breath that he took. All that he 
became aware of was that the only person who he now trusted was chasing 
him, intentions as dishonourable as the last in whom he had placed his 
trust, and, after a moment, sobs started to choke him along with the panic. 
He did not know where he was running; all he knew was that he had to 
run, could not let his chaser catch him.

Then he stumbled.

To be continued...

Elvish Translations:

Nadorhuan - cowardly dog



Author: Ilye
Email: ilye_elf@yahoo.co.uk
Website: 
www.geocities.com/talesfromthevale
Rating: NC-17
Disclaimers: Don't own, don't sue. Wow, 
how original was that...


***************
Chapter Seventeen
***************

The Inevitable

And instantly the other Elf was upon him. 
They hit the ground together, the weight 
landing on Haldir’s back knocking the 
breath clean out of him as his face was 
pressed into the ground. Hands clawed at 
him as he struggled, the sobbing and 
wheezing his vain attempts to suck air into 
his burning lungs. But somehow it all just 
seemed like some sort of nightmarish, 
recurrent bad dream.

He groaned in anguish as he struggled, and 
then louder as his hands were forced out 
from underneath his body and planted 
roughly above his head, long, strong fingers 
holding his wrists together, impossible to 
escape from. A body, similarly long and 
strong, shifted above him, pressing its full 
length along his back, and a wail escaped 
his lips when he felt a hard heat pressing 
against his buttocks, not disguised in the 
slightest by the two pairs of leggings 
between skin.

‘Your cries will not save you now, //aier//,’ 
came a cold hiss in his ear, spitting the last 
word at him as an insult, far fetched from 
the endearment it was intended to be. The 
words slithered around the shell of his ear 
and down inside, where they met the 
eardrum and spread iciness through his 
whole being.

‘We are too far from the house – no one 
can hear you. Who will save you? My 
grandfather? Nay, he needs to learn what 
you are really here for; he will not object, I 
am certain. Or my brother? No, he will not 
help you either. He does not care.’

Haldir moaned, and tried to twist his head 
away, burying one side of his face into the 
soft dirt of the forest floor and scrunching 
his shoulder up to try and cover the other 
ear. ‘No…s-stop, I will not l-listen,’ he 
whimpered amidst weeping, screwing his 
eyes shut. The other Elf laughed icy and 
heartless.

‘Listening does not come into this, brat,’ he 
drawled. ‘Do you know what I am going to 
do to you? I am going to take you, roughly 
and selfishly like it should be done. I am 
going to spear you through, spear you into 
the mud. And I will enjoy it very much…’

Try as he might, Haldir just could not 
escape the malicious words, and that 
suspiciously smooth tone of voice that made 
his skin crawl. Sobs wracked his slender 
frame as tears streamed down his face, 
plopping fatly into the dirt and creating mud 
beneath his skin. He coughed, and ceased 
his futile struggling to escape as the hips 
atop his were rotated, grating the rock-hard 
erection against the cleft of his buttocks, 
proving a point. His shocked brain still 
seemed unable to comprehend the situation; 
the only person in whom he had ever wholly 
trusted was doing…//this//.

‘Elr-roh-hir, p-please, no…’ he sobbed, 
words blending into mud and harsh gasps of 
breath. A long, slow chuckle, evil to the 
ears, resonated around him at the words. 
This could not be Elrohir, it just couldn't. 
//How could this be anyone other than 
Elladan?//

In some bizarre way, Haldir felt a strange 
surge of relief wash over him in the hope 
that this could be Elladan, even though he 
had no way of proving – or, indeed, 
believing – that this Elf was who he said he 
was. Anything could happen; nothing was 
real any longer. 

Complete and utter despair, however, 
replaced the momentary relief soon enough, 
as he felt cold metal at his hips, and the 
green fabric of his leggings was expertly cut 
away. He had neither the will nor the energy 
to lend thought to how this Elf had done so, 
for his hands were still pinned above his 
head; all that he could do was whimper 
again, cringing when hardened flesh jumped 
against his leg, where it now lay. The feeling 
disgusted him, surfaced some fiery feelings 
within him that he did not know he 
possessed, and he finally summoned the 
courage to answer back to his attacker.

 ‘Wh-whoever the h-hell you a-are,’ he 
hissed against the ground, cursing the sobs 
that still shook his body and unsteadied his 
voice, ‘J-just d-do it.’

He could almost feel the grin that spread 
over the smug face above him, sucking in a 
sharp breath over his teeth as the other Elf 
placed his erection at the tight entrance to 
his body. It appeared that he had also 
managed to remove his own leggings, as 
well as Haldir’s.

‘Oh, if I must,’ came the almost jovial voice 
behind him, moving the free hand to 
Haldir’s hip. ‘Hold still - this will hurt.’

And then he drove himself into Haldir’s 
body, piercing the younger Elf through to 
the core. Haldir could not help but scream 
as that searing heat seemed to cleave the 
lower half of his body into two completely 
separate entities; if it had hurt before, with 
lubrication and some manner of 
preparation, this was sheer agony. 

His cries only seemed to spur Elladan on, 
though, for instantly his attacker began 
drilling into him, thrusting hard and deep 
and fast into the Elfling who was, by this 
point, weeping into the mud from the 
torturous pain. The louder he wept, the 
harder and deeper Elladan thrust - until it 
gradually dawned on Haldir that the other 
Elf enjoyed hearing his pain; took pleasure 
from his suffering. The realisation that his 
anguished cries and tortured writhing were 
only exciting his attacker more, 
determination took root within Haldir's 
spirit; it was possibly the hardest thing that 
he had ever done, but he forced himself to 
become limp and silent.

It hurt even more in this passive state; there 
was nothing else to focus on, save the harsh 
thrusts and guttural, animalistic sounds of 
the Elf atop him. There was no soothing 
pleasure from the sweet spot that Celeborn 
had found inside him, he registered vaguely; 
he was, unsurprisingly, not erect. His eyes 
still streamed with the silent tears of 
suffering and distress, and something in his 
throat was choking him - //probably 
Elladan’s spear,// he thought wryly. He 
was having a huge amount of trouble getting 
enough oxygen into his lungs, between the 
sobbing and the coughing and the choking - 
the fact that he had failed to recover his 
breath sufficiently from when he was 
winded did not help, either. 

It was probably the lack of air and the 
intense, blistering pain that made everything 
begin to seem as though it was all 
happening from a distance, as though to 
someone else. Elladan’s grunting and 
merciless thrusts into his poor, battered, 
twice-violated body seemed to drift further 
and further away – quieter, and less painful. 

The last thing that Haldir remembered was 
the teeth on his ear and a mass of agonising 
stinging in his abdomen, as the other Elf 
climaxed. Elladan bit down on the pointed 
tip of his ear, stifling a loud cry with a soul-
sickening grunt.

Then, mercifully, all went black.

~~~

Elladan collapsed onto the limp form below 
him as he climaxed, not noticing the metallic 
tang of blood on his tongue. He lay there 
for several moments, still both atop and 
inside the younger Elf, as his senses came 
back to him little by little. With them, 
however, came a horrible sensation in the 
pit of his stomach, until finally he became 
coherent enough to think straight and his 
eyes snapped open.

A strangled moan left his lungs involuntarily, 
and he jumped to his feet. He tasted bile 
when his now flaccid member was 
wrenched from Haldir's violated opening by 
the motion, withdrawing with a sickening 
pop, smeared with blood. Blindly, he 
groped at himself with his hands, trying in 
vain to clean the scarlet evidence from the 
weapon of his felony.

However, it soon became clear that this 
was the least of his worries, and slowly he 
ceased his movements. Then he stood, 
surveying the picture before him, in 
complete and utter shock, shirt hanging 
damp and crumpled from his shoulders and 
leggings pooled around his ankles. Haldir 
lay still on the forest floor, legs splayed and 
body forced and bloody, face pressed into 
the mud created by his tears. His arms were 
still raised above his head where Elladan 
had had them pinned.

Sobs rose now in Elladan's throat, sobs of 
remorse and shame. He fiercely blinked 
away the tears and shook his head to clear 
it, then glanced back at the prostrate figure 
before him. What he thought he saw made 
him cry out in horror, and he backed away 
- only to find himself impeded by the 
leggings around his ankles, and was sent 
tumbling to the ground. Before he was able 
to stop it, his stomach contracted, and he 
twisted onto his side so that it could empty 
its contents into the dirt.

Finally the vomiting gave way to dry 
heaves. Coughing and sobbing, panting 
heavily in loud, wheezing gasps, Elladan 
now scrambled backwards on all fours until 
he had gathered himself enough to rise 
again, swiftly pulling up his leggings as he 
did so. Then, without a second glance 
back, he turned tail and fled into the trees, 
the image of a dark-haired Elfling lying 
defiled and abused in place of the blond 
etched into his brain.

 
***************
Chapter Eighteen
****************

The Panic

Elladan stumbled blindly through the forest, 
not noticing the branches that whipped at 
his face or the brambles that clawed at his 
legs, ripping the fabric of his leggings and 
drawing up violently coloured marks of 
crimson below. He fell several times, as 
though his inherited elvin fleet-footedness 
had deserted him – and, after all, didn’t he 
deserve it?

Each time he fell, he scrambled along on his 
hands and knees for a few steps more. His 
knees were sore, his hands raw, but he 
failed to notice anything as his breath came 
with difficulty, in loud, choked wheezes. 
Then, at last, he found himself blinded by 
some bright light, shortly followed by a 
collision with something firm before him. His 
eyes did not see it.

Unable to continue any longer, he collapsed 
to his knees in a graceless heap, and finally 
gave himself over to the deep, cleansing 
sobs. For that moment, he could think 
about nothing but the erratic rush of air into 
his lungs and the long, jerky exhale on a 
sobbing, keening note, whilst all the time 
salty tears carved pale grooves into his dirty 
cheeks. And it seemed so peaceful…

Then a pair of hands on his body, firm, 
strong arms around his shoulders, broke 
through his peace, and he scuttled 
backwards. His eyes may have widened; he 
may have told them to go away, not to do 
this, not again. But he wasn’t certain. The 
only thing of which he was certain was that 
memories came back – memories 
repressed for so long – and that he was 
being touched again, again like so many 
times before. And the hands remained on 
him, in spite of his struggling, and he was 
certain he was telling him to get off, to leave 
him alone.

But the had never listened before. Why 
should they start now?

It took a few moments for him to register 
that his name was being spoken. The words 
came to him gradually, gaining more 
meaning each time they were repeated, and 
growing clearer all the while, as though the 
speaker was coming towards him in a 
cavern. Or maybe it was that he was 
coming out of the cavern.

And then, suddenly, it all fell away; 
everything returned to reality. He was 
crouching on the floor, trembling like a wild 
and terrified animal, tears cascading from 
his eyes. But it was strangely calming, and 
the sobs that wracked his body seemed 
pacified for a time.

And Elrohir was kneeling before him, 
speaking his name, hands on Elladan's 
shoulders, expression of intense worry and 
shock upon his face. Elladan looked at his 
mirror image for a mere moment, and the 
collapsed forwards into his brother's arms. 
He clutched tightly at Elrohir, like his only 
lifeline, and hid his face in the shoulder 
offered to cry on. He wept again, tears and 
sobs returning anew, whilst Elrohir held him 
and shushed him, rocking gently and 
murmuring all things nonsensical. And it was 
peaceful again.

But, of course, one never weeps without 
reason, and the peace is always too good 
to be true. As the sobs and torrents 
subsided to sniffles and a trickle, Elladan 
finally felt the presence of a shadow 
standing over him. A sliver shadow - and 
whilst it seemed that things dark and grim 
should fade in silvery light, now they 
gradually slithered back into view, into 
memory, oppressive and stomach-sickening 
like they always had been.

Elrohir was now stroking his disordered 
hair, his trembling back, as he allowed 
Elladan to lean on him.

"Elladan, dear brother, whatever is the 
matter?" he asked, voice filled with the 
frightened concern of one who had not a 
clue how to help. Elladan shook his head 
and reburied his face in his brother's 
shoulder; but he was not going to get away 
with it that easily.

"Elladan, tell me," pressed Elrohir. "Come, 
talk to me; since when had there ever been 
anything we could not share?"

The irony of that hit the elder twin full-force, 
as a sardonic smirk twisted his face, hidden, 
and a short, harsh bark of rueful laughter 
escaped his constricted throat. Fortunately, 
it seemed that it was taken for a sob.

"N-noth-thing," he stammered. His voice 
was thick amidst the few tears that still 
escaped his eyes, and his whole frame 
shuddered. If he had not been already 
sitting, his knees would have given way.

The silver shadow now spoke. "There 
cannot be nothing wrong, gweniaur - look 
at the state of you." It was clear to Elladan 
that Celeborn was also concerned, for it 
showed in his tone - which, nonetheless, 
was also laced with suspicion. Elladan 
shook his head again.

"N-no, no..." he muttered, words obscured 
by Elrohir. "I c-can't, I c-can't..."

Elrohir looked up to his grandfather, 
troubled by the whole incident and now 
deeply worried about his brother. "Maybe 
we should wait a while, ata'da," he 
suggested quietly over Elladan's head. "Let 
him calm down a bit first - he is too worked 
up right now, and I do not want to distress 
him further."

Celeborn sighed. "But we need to know, 
Elrohir," he replied, equally as quietly. 
"What if something dangerous has 
happened?"

Elrohir's expression showed that he 
understood, as he looked down at the dark 
head again. He hated to aggravate the older 
twin again, but they needed to know.

"Elladan, he is right, you do need to tell us. 
What has happened?"

Elladan froze. What //had// happened?  
What had he done? It took a few seconds 
for the recollections to sink in, but when 
they did so it was on a low moan and 
another returned sob.

"H-hald-dir..."

Instantly, he knew that letting that word 
escape had been a mistake, for the aura 
radiating from his grandfather grew cold, 
dark and threatening, like a brewing storm.

"What?" The word was ominously quiet, 
and filled with menace. "Did you just say 
"Haldir"?"

Elladan quaked and shook his head again, 
face still hidden by the now drenched fabric 
of Elrohir's robes.

"N-no, n-no," he moaned, but Celeborn 
clearly did not believe him.

"Look at me, you little wretch!" he cried, 
but Elladan was frozen and could not raise 
his head. Suddenly, he felt himself being 
wrenched out of Elrohir's arms, his brother 
uttering a cry of protest, and he was flung 
down onto his back a short distance away. 
He cowered, Celeborn's eyes anger-fired 
and his silvery hair flashing like lightning in 
the candle flames that lit the passage.

"What have you done? Where is he?" The 
words resounded down the corridor, filling 
Elladan's ears, and a keening wail escaped 
his lips.

"Th-the f-forest..." he stuttered, now curling 
himself up into a ball and hiding his face in 
his arms, as if to shield himself from his 
grandfather's wrath. It would not have 
come as a surprise if Celeborn had hit him 
at that moment.

However, the Elven-lord did little more than 
utter a growl, before he vanished instantly, 
and Elladan collapsed weeping once more.

Silently, Elrohir crawled over to him and 
held him again, but this time Elladan seemed 
beyond consolation. Elrohir had no idea 
what to make of what had happened, but 
there was no way that he could leave 
Elladan in this state at the moment. It 
looked like he had some major sorting out 
to do.

//Ai,// he thought, brow twisting as he 
offered his support and at the same time 
trying to get his head around everything. 
//What a mess the pair of you have 
made...//

***

Although it had appeared unlikely at first, 
Elladan's sobs had quieted again after a 
period of perhaps five minutes, and he now 
rested trembling in Elrohir's arms. The 
younger twin was reluctant to stay sitting in 
the corridor for longer than was necessary - 
mainly in case Celeborn came back and 
found them still there - and so finally he 
decided that the time had come for them to 
move elsewhere.

"Your rooms, or mine?" He received no 
answer, other than a resigned, uncaring lift 
of the shoulders, and so chose Elladan's 
rooms, since they were closer and would 
probably offer more comfort to his 
disturbed twin. With gentle hands and calm, 
slow actions, therefore, Elrohir coaxed 
Elladan to his feet, along the corridor, and 
up the stairs to his chambers. He kept one 
arm around Elladan's shoulder the entire 
way, as the elder brother leaned on the 
younger and walked with shuffling, weary 
steps. It was clear that his breakdown had 
exhausted him.

Elrohir made straight for the bed when they 
entered the room, releasing his hold on 
Elladan and busying himself with lighting a 
fire and candles and turning down the bed. 
All the while, Elladan stood forlorn and 
dejected in front of the door where Elrohir 
had left him, staring blankly at the 
flagstones, and was only stirred from his 
musings when Elrohir called his name softly. 
Slowly raising his head, the elder twin 
looked over to where the younger had 
settled himself on the bed, and trundled 
over to join him.

Elrohir wrapped a strong arm around 
Elladan's shoulders as he sank bodily down 
next to him, and gently brushed some stray, 
dark hairs from the pale and tear-tinged 
face.

"Will you tell me? You said Haldir's name." 
Elladan shook his head. "Please?"

Elladan shook his head again. "No, I c-
cannot," he whispered, breathing still not 
quite settled yet. Elrohir would probably not 
believe him if he did; Celeborn most 
certainly would not.

"Why not? Come now, gwanur-nîn, what 
have you ever been unable to tell me 
before? My heart bleeds to see you so; will 
you not help to ease my pain, even if you 
do not wish to ease your own?" 

Elrohir knew that talking would relieve 
Elladan's troubles, whatever they were - 
and of that he had a very good idea. "It 
//is// Haldir, isn't it?" He took the slow blink 
and quiet sniff as the affirmative, and 
continued. "What happened, Elladan? What 
did you do?"

Elladan closed his eyes, but they popped 
open immediately as images of an Elf, 
alternating between fair and dark, lying 
prostrate and violated upon the ground 
sprang up behind his lids. A soft whimper 
escaped his lips, which he moistened 
nervously. "I...I..."

There was a seemingly infinite pause, 
pregnant and stagnant. Elrohir did not want 
to interrupt what was following; he sensed it 
important, as tears began to slide down 
Elladan's face again, whilst he struggled to 
get his tongue around the admission that he 
had only just come to terms with himself.

"I raped him, Elrohir." The words ended on 
a sob, as fresh tears now spilled from his 
eyes and fell to the mattress. "I...I raped 
him...I am no better, now, no better..."

"Elladan...why?" Elrohir's eyes went wide at 
the confession - which, admittedly, he had 
suspected from the beginning, but not dared 
to believe. Still, as Elladan's heartache 
began anew he was unable to do anything 
but gather his weeping brother into his arms 
again and offer comfort as before, although 
this time there were questions that could not 
remain unasked.

"Why did you do it?"

Elladan did not reply, but buried his face 
into Elrohir's now soaking robe front, at 
which he clutched tenaciously, and shook 
his head. "No, n-no," he stammered now, 
"No better, no b-better..."

Elrohir's brow creased at these repeated 
words. He did not understand. "No better? 
No better than what?"

But now it seemed that he would not gain 
any response at all, for Elladan's words 
were replaced by deeper sobs, loud and 
staccato so that he was barely able to draw 
breath. Finally deciding that this should 
maybe wait until another day, before 
Elladan caused himself some serious mental 
damage, Elrohir settled for soothing his twin 
until he cried himself dry, and lay limply 
against him.

Elladan's body seemed to weight twice 
what it should, as Elrohir now shifted his 
brother away from him and settled him 
down into the bed. Elladan sniffed, but said 
nothing, passively allowing Elrohir to do as 
he pleased. He just did not have the energy 
anymore.

The younger twin lay down next to the 
elder, and smoothed his disordered hair as 
he gazed into the dark, damp eyes. "Sleep, 
my brother," he breathed, placing a soft kiss 
on the cold and troubled brow. "Rest well, 
and we will sort this in the morning."

Elladan blinked; he had not expected 
Elrohir to take this as well as he had done.

"Y-you are n-not angry?"

The response he received was evasive. 
"You need to rest, Elladan. You have 
exhausted yourself. And I should go and 
help grandfather, for no doubt he has his 
hands full, too."

But Elladan could not face the idea of being 
left alone, even though reason told him that 
there was no need for his fear, now. Being 
left alone night after night, every time that it 
had happened, had been the worst part; all 
that he had wished was that someone 
would hear his subdued cries, his soft 
sobbing, or anything else that might show 
they had noticed. But they had not; no one 
had ever noticed. And neither could he tell 
them, in the cold light of day when he had 
risen from stained and fetid sheets, in the 
same way that he was unable to tell Elrohir 
now. No one would ever have believed him 
before. Why should they now? Why should 
they care, after what he had done?

So, it was with these thoughts and ghosts of 
the past in mind that the eldest son of 
Elrond, descendant of Galadriel, blood 
strengthened with Maiar and given variety 
with that of Men, grabbed at his twin like a 
frightened child as he rose to leave. It was 
with uncontrollable whimpers and 
heartbreakingly frightened chocolate eyes 
that he begged for Elrohir to stay. And it 
was with a sad sigh and a brain full of 
tumultuous concern that Elrohir did as was 
begged of him. There were, he decided as 
he pulled his sniffling brother into his arms 
again, questions that most definitely needed 
answers.

***************
Chapter Nineteen
***************

The Difficult Decision

Celeborn rushed into the trees at the foot of 
Imladris' extensive gardens, both cursing the 
encroaching darkness and grateful for 
Elladan's clumsy trail that he had left in his 
wake. Even a dwarf would have been able 
to follow this track. Keen, jade Elven eyes 
searched amongst the trees, although why 
he did so he did not know; he was horribly 
aware of the fact that Elladan's footsteps 
would lead him straight to Haldir.

And he was right; it took only a few minutes 
of searching before he caught sight of a 
figure lying on the ground a short distance 
away, and he broke into a sprint to cover 
the last few feet. But he quickly stopped 
dead, a bitter taste spreading from the back 
of his tongue and down his throat, choking. 
Before him lay the exact picture of the 
previously blurry memories of that dreadful 
mistake, over a month past.

Falling to his knees beside the prone figure, 
he gingerly touched the younger Elf's 
shoulder, calling his name. Unsurprisingly, 
there was no answer, but a hasty 
examination showed no evidence of head 
injuries. There was blood, and what looked 
like teeth marks, on Haldir's right ear, and 
the now twice-violated entrance to his body 
was raw and bloody. Elladan had obviously 
taken him with a good deal of force and 
little preparation.

Swallowing down the contents of his 
stomach, which were churning ominously at 
the state of the younger Elf, Celeborn gently 
turned Haldir onto his side. He decided that 
he must have blacked out from the distress 
of the situation, rather than because of a 
blow to the head. There were silvery stains 
on the ashen cheeks and mud streaks 
across his skin, seemingly created by tears. 
But the Elven-lord did not need that to tell 
him that Haldir had been in considerable 
anguish before he passed out - the anguish 
was most likely the cause of the 
unconsciousness. He sighed; that, too, was 
understandable, but Elbereth only knew 
what kind of mental damage this would do 
to the poor child.

Very gently, and mindful of the nasty wound 
between the young Elf's rear cheeks, 
Celeborn gathered him into his arms, careful 
to rearrange the sliced leggings so that they 
afforded Haldir at least a little dignity. The 
round and usually expressive hazel eyes 
were closed in unconsciousness, and the 
silver head lolled against the Elven-lord's 
shoulder as he lifted the slim figure from the 
ground and began to make his way back 
towards the house. There was no 
movement or sound from Haldir, just 
passive limpness, and not even the lights in 
the corridor, bright in comparison with the 
almost-night outside, could stir him. 

Celeborn soon discovered how grateful he 
was for this when he reached Haldir's 
rooms, for it had become apparent that he 
would have to tend to the various injuries. 
There was little doubt in his mind that Haldir 
would have been beside himself with fear, 
had he done so much as try to tend to the 
bitten ear. And so it was with a sigh - 
partially relieved that this was the case, and 
partially heavy because he was dreading the 
moment when Haldir awoke - that he 
hastened to his own rooms to return with 
supplies.

His heart skipped a beat when he returned, 
for Haldir had shifted to lie on his other side 
since he had left, and he sincerely hoped 
that the youngster was not awakening. 
Exercising a great deal of caution lest this 
was the case, Celeborn tentatively parted 
the green fabric of the leggings - now 
useless, thanks to Elladan's knife - and set 
to cleaning away the rivulets of blood and 
other such pleasantries from the abused 
opening with a soft cloth and a bowl of 
clean water. There was little else that he 
could do for the wound, other than apply a 
healing salve. He knew that the Elf would 
be in a considerable amount of pain the next 
morning when he tried to walk - or even if 
he didn't, for that matter.

Just as he reached for the upturned ear, 
however, Haldir tensed, stirred and 
whimpered, his long, silver-tipped lashes 
fluttering against muddy cheekbones. 
Celeborn instantly snatched his hand back; 
now was not the time for Haldir to wake 
up! He needed chance to rest, without 
being scared witless - and besides, 
Celeborn did not want him to awaken 
alone, whilst he was having...a word with 
Elladan.

An idea surfaced, which he only needed to 
contemplate for a couple of seconds before 
he dashed back to his rooms. He returned 
holding a small vial of liquid, which, sitting 
on the bed, he uncorked, and trickled the 
contents between the parted lips of the 
stirring Elf. Haldir moved for a little longer, 
and for a moment Celeborn worried that 
the sleeping draught would not work. 
However, Haldir soon seemed to relax 
again as he was drawn back into the blissful 
oblivion of unconsciousness for a time 
longer. Celeborn heaved a sigh of relief, 
and returned to cleaning the wounded ear 
and rinsing the mud and tears from the 
presently serene face.

Once this was done, the Elven-lord paused, 
hesitating over the idea of changing Haldir 
from his clothes into a sleeping robe. He 
then decided against it. It would most likely 
only distress the poor boy more if he 
awoke to discover that Celeborn had 
stripped him naked to change his clothes, 
whilst he was unconscious and defenceless. 
So, Celeborn merely settled for covering 
the slight, abused form with a blanket, and 
silently left the room, confident that Haldir 
would now sleep till morning.

~~~

Elrohir sighed heavily when he heard 
ominously loud footsteps outside in the 
corridor. He eased the now-sleeping 
Elladan from his arms with as much haste as 
he dared, loathe as he was to wake his 
twin. 

He reached the door just as Celeborn's 
voice rang out on the other side of it, and a 
thump resounded through the wood as 
Elrohir reached it. He was glad that he had 
thought to lock the door earlier.

"// Elladan! Are you in there, you 
poisonous son of a snake? //"
 
Elrohir braced himself and opened the door 
a crack as he unlocked it, careful of his 
position so that the irate Elven-lord could 
not force it open. When he peered round it, 
the fury in his grandfather's eyes chilled him 
to the core.

"He is in here, ata'da, but..."

"Let me in, Elrohir." Celeborn was 
practically growling. "Have you seen what 
he has done?"

Elrohir could not let his brother face his 
grandfather like this, not when both were so 
worked up. He could easily see Elladan 
ending up scarred, both physically and 
mentally, and no matter what he had done 
there was no way that he was about to let 
Celeborn into the bedroom.

"I can imagine," he answered gently, sighing 
inwardly at the fact that he always seemed 
to end up as the pacifier. "But grandfather, I 
cannot let you in. There is something else 
behind his behaviour, and --"

"I don't care." Celeborn's voice was low, 
cool; a sign of his barely restrained anger. 
"He has just raped that poor child, Elrohir. 
Let me in."

Elrohir inclined his head. "So did you," he 
remarked innocently, shooting a glance 
back at Elladan, still slumbering fitfully upon 
the bed out of Celeborn's line of sight, and 
so missing his grandfather's stunned-yet-
baleful glare. He spoke before the elder Elf 
had a chance to defend his previous 
actions. "I would talk with you outside."

One slender silver eyebrow was raised as 
the Elven-lord stepped up even closer to 
the crack in the door, now practically nose-
to-nose with his younger grandson. "I am 
sure it can be said inside," he muttered 
menacingly. 

But, to his surprise, his fierce attitude 
seemed to have none of the effects that it 
usually did; Elrohir merely regarded him 
with calm brown eyes, and said, "Take two 
steps back, or you will get no further." 
Celeborn hesitated, and so he continued. "I 
assume that you wish to sort this matter out, 
grandfather. Do as I say, or nothing more 
will be said until morning. I am perfectly 
willing to lock us both in here for the night."

The silver-haired Elf gaped at his grandson 
- though he knew not why he was surprised  
at this superiority the younger Elf seemed to 
have over him. He had, after all, been 
raised as a diplomat, by the most patient 
creature in Arda. He narrowed his eyes, but 
took the required number of steps back, 
and glowered when Elrohir emerged fully 
from the bedroom - locking the door 
behind him and pocketing the key.

"I hope you have a good explanation for 
this."

Elrohir was unsure as to what "this" was, so 
ignored the question and began to speak his 
mind. "There is something deeply troubling 
him, ata'da, he --"

"I //know// there is something deeply 
troubling him!" Celeborn was seething. 
"Look at what he has done!" Elrohir folded 
his arms across his chest, fixing that level 
brown gaze upon the other Elf.

"You are older than I, by many millennia; 
act like it and listen to what I have to say." 
When that seemed to shut Celeborn up - 
from shock, if nothing else - he continued 
once more. "Something has happened to 
him. He wept in my arms like a babe today, 
and I can tell that it was not just because of 
what he has done...something...has 
happened to him. You saw the state that he 
was in when he ran into me earlier on - he 
was haunted, and utterly, utterly terrified."

Celeborn had half a mind to remark that 
Elladan damn well ought to have been 
terrified, but held his tongue.

"Just let me talk to him," Elrohir was saying 
now. "Please, just give me until the morning. 
I need to get to the bottom of this, and you 
charging in there and scaring the other half 
of him to Mandos will do no good to 
anyone." He raised an eyebrow, hearing 
Celeborn's sigh. "Although I do intend to 
lock the pair of us in there for the night 
anyway, so I suppose that you are not in a 
position to disagree."

Celeborn ran a hand down his face. "Fine, 
fine, talk to him. But I //will// see him in the 
morning, whether you stand in my way or 
not."

Elrohir ignored the threat. "Enough of this. 
How is Haldir?"

"Not good." The menacing tone was gone 
from Celeborn's tone now, so that all which 
remained was fretful fatigue and frustration. 
"He took him - hard - and Haldir was 
unconscious when I found him. No blow to 
the head," he assured Elrohir, whose face 
had filled with concern. "I think he must 
have blacked out from the distress of the 
situation." Another sigh. "I can only imagine 
how this has affected him, gwenneth. And, 
to be honest, I would rather not. I have 
drugged him for the time being, so that he 
gets at least one night of decent rest, but 
when he awakens...well, it won't be easy."

The chocolate eyes of his grandson were 
filled with silent sorrow as he listened to 
these words, and he pursed his lips as he 
took a step towards Celeborn. "We will get 
through this," he said thoughtfully, laying one 
elegant hand on the elder Elf's shoulder. "I 
will talk to Elladan."

Then he turned without another word, 
taking the key from his pocket and re-
entering Elladan's chambers. Celeborn was 
left standing in the corridor, only turning and 
making his way back to Haldir when he 
heard the somehow saddening sound of the 
key clicking in the lock on the other side.

 
A/N: I appreciate that not all of you have 
read "The Silmarillion". If you haven't, then I 
have provided notes at the end of this 
chapter, which will hopefully explain 
everything that you don't understand. Any 
problems (that includes mistakes!) let me 
know.

***************
Chapter Twenty
***************

The Confession

Elrohir was met by a pair of wide-awake 
brown eyes gazing dolefully at him from the 
bed when he re-entered Elladan's rooms. 
He was not surprised that Celeborn's 
shouting had awoken his brother.

"How much did you hear?"

"Most of it," whispered the elder twin, 
drawing his knees up to his chest as he lay 
in the bed and hugging them for all they 
were worth, since Elrohir was standing in 
the middle of the room and making no 
move to re-join him. "Thank you."

Elrohir sighed heavily. "We need to talk, 
Elladan," he stated softly. "You know that, 
don't you?"

The elder twin nodded dejectedly, and 
bowed his head. "I know that," he 
repeated. His voice was croaky and 
sounded sore, as doubtless it would be 
after the amount of weeping that he had 
done just a short while ago. He closed his 
eyes, as though in pain.

"I am on your side, brother," Elrohir shook 
his head sadly, "but I can do nothing to 
help, or even maintain my decision against 
grandfather, unless you tell me. You cannot 
fool me into thinking that there is nothing 
wrong, now, not after what you have said."

Closed brown eyes opened slowly, 
dramatically, and fixed Elrohir beneath 
them. The torment, the self-loathing, the 
guilt...the downright sorrow pooled in them 
was so immense that it made the younger 
twin wonder how Elladan had even 
survived his breakdown in the first place.

"But I fooled you before, didn't I?"

Elrohir was instantly on his guard, and 
cocked his head to one side. "What?" But 
Elladan did not answer, for he had lowered 
his eyes again. "Elladan? What do you 
mean?"

"I obviously had you fooled before...if not, 
you wouldn't be asking now." The words 
were muffled by sheets and knees, where 
the elder twin's face was now buried.

"What do you mean, you had me fooled 
before? Elladan, what are you talking 
about?"

Again, however, Elladan offered no answer. 
His body tensed; he could not tell Elrohir 
now, not after all these years, when it had 
all been forgotten...could he? Words, which 
had become a mantra to him very early on 
in his life - before he even had a chance to 
question their sincerity, he was so young - 
whirled inside his ears, echoing, taunting, 
haunting. It would happen to Elrohir, should 
he say a word, and he didn't want that to 
happen, did he?

No, he didn't. He would have given 
anything to have prevented his little brother 
from going through that. Anyway, he 
deserved it - he had spilt ink across the 
table during their lesson that day, or he had 
dropped his book on the floor as he took it 
from the shelf, or he had spelt a word 
wrong, or...or...

A low, anguished howl left his lips, and he 
curled himself even tighter in the foetal 
position. He couldn't say, couldn't tell, 
couldn't give release to the words after all 
these years of locking them away. They had 
been forgotten, when...when...when //he// 
had gone, when //he// had sailed, and left 
him to the torment of his repressed 
memories. 

Although the actions had ceased and the 
repressions started hundreds of years 
earlier, when he had reached his majority, it 
had not prevented the familiar nauseating 
ache from twinging in his stomach every 
time that pale hair came into his view, with 
the smooth slide of a smile for those 
around, but a cold and knowing glint in the 
grey eyes reserved just for him. He was 
gone, though, he was gone...why did they 
come back, when he was gone? He could 
tell Elrohir, for who would know...he could 
tell him...oh...if it weren't for the sobs that 
he hadn't realised were wracking his body 
once again, shaking the very breath from his 
lungs, and that his face was buried in russet 
robes again, and that he was being rocked, 
gently...gently... 

And he must have been saying something, 
too. But he knew not what other words had 
left his lips save that he was gone, for 
Elrohir was whispering gently to him, and 
asking who was gone, dear brother, this has 
gone far enough. 

Elladan took a deep, shuddering breath, 
doing his utmost to still the sobs and stem 
the tears. But who can still the storm and 
stem the flood? Bracing himself, he lifted his 
head, though the movement was sluggish, as 
if he held in it the weight of a thousand 
years of sorrow. And he looked straight 
into the worried depths of his brother's 
brown eyes, blinked the blur from his own, 
and then pressed their cheeks together. He 
almost smiled when once hand came up to 
cradle the back of his head.

Then one word left his lips. "Gaeldae." A 
name...a name, and so much more. Elrohir 
tilted his head away so that he could look 
Elladan in the face, although the elder twin 
did his best to follow the movement and 
keep himself hidden; he did not want to be 
revealed. And he was crying again. But only 
softly.

"Gaeldae? Our tutor?" Elladan nodded, and 
Elrohir dreaded asking the next, inevitable 
question. "What does he have to do with 
this? Elladan?"

The elder twin was crying harder again 
now, clinging to his brother, but this time 
Elrohir pried him away from his shoulder 
and held him at arm's length. "Tell me."

Elladan nodded, and wiped at his eyes, 
sniffing pathetically. "I w-want to," he 
gasped thickly through tears. "J-just a 
mom-ment..." Elrohir blinked 
understandingly, and waited with that 
inherent patience of his. At last, Elladan 
seemed to have collected himself enough to 
speak. And speak he did. It was tentative, 
disjointed, for the shards of memories 
forgotten were related as they came to him; 
the meaning, however, was clear, just 
words of pain falling from his trembling lips 
and into the ears of his heartbroken brother.

"I was young... I can't remember, exactly, 
but young. Perhaps you will remember - we 
had been studying history...the Kinslayings. 
And Ada...yes, that's right, Ada had said 
that we were not to know, not yet, so I told 
him that. And Gaeldae looked at me...his 
eyes were green that day, I recall - 
remember how they would change? But he 
looked at me...made some snide comment, 
that I have forgotten. 

"I know now that he was of Teleri origins, 
though that evening was a mystery. He...he 
came to my rooms, after dinner. I knew not 
why he was there...I didn't understand, 
Elrohir, I didn't understand. He...he...he 
locked the door..."

Elladan paused and swallowed hard, for a 
lump had formed in his throat. Elrohir had 
blanched. "What did he do after he had 
locked the door, Elladan?" he asked 
breathlessly. He did not want to know the 
answer...but he knew that he had to. They 
had come too far, now, so far that it was 
impossible to retrace their steps; and, 
miraculously, Elladan's eyes were clear and 
drying as they met his.

"He punished me. He...he took me. I 
remember now. I was twelve. But that was 
not the end."

Elrohir choked on a sob, and one hand fell 
away from Elladan's shoulder to cover his 
mouth. "No..." 

A sad nod was his reply. "Yes. He came 
back...came back, every time I - I 
questioned him on something he didn't like, 
or spilt ink, or was late, or...or...excuses, 
Elrohir, he only wanted excuses..."

Elrohir was openly crying now, tears 
tumbling from his wide and horrified brown 
eyes, even now so gentle and beautiful. 
Trembling, he gathered his brother close to 
him and held him tight, as though doing so 
could banish the events of centuries past.

"But, but...why you? Why not me?"

Elladan laughed softly - he actually laughed. 
"Because I begged him not to." Elrohir 
allowed another loud sob to escape, but he 
continued. "He used it as blackmail, of 
course...it kept me silent. But it kept you 
safe...and that made it bearable."

"Why?" The guilt radiating from Elrohir was 
almost tangible. "Oh, Elladan, never a 
word? Did you have that little faith in us?"

A shrug. "I was too young to know 
otherwise, in the beginning...later, I tried not 
to think about it."

"We did not notice...you...your whole 
childhood, and we thought you were just 
being sullen...being difficult... You should 
have told me!" Now Elrohir was sitting 
upright, his brow creased in anguish as tears 
glided down his face unchecked. Elladan 
regarded him in a fashion that he hoped was 
calm, though he could feel himself shaking 
beyond control, head tilted by the minutest 
degree to give a knowing expression.

"Elrohir, do you know what it is like to lie 
awake at night, listening to the footsteps 
that pass your door and praying every time 
that they do not stop outside, because you 
know what will become of it? Or do you 
know what it is like to be punished for 
something that you are not responsible for, 
the actions of your forefathers - something 
that you do not understand? To not know 
why you are being called Noldorin scum, 
Númenórean betrayer...to prepare yourself 
for the pain, but to know that it is never 
enough?"

Elrohir shook his head desperately and tried 
to speak, but Elladan laid a finger over his 
lips. He was now aware that tears were 
leaking down his face, too, but he needed 
to finish. "Or do you know what it is like to 
lie awake afterwards, that familiar ache 
making it impossible for you to do anything 
but lie curled on your side and sob? To sob 
like a child, Elrohir, when you are but two 
years from your majority, like you have 
done for four decades before, and //still// 
nobody hears you? Or perhaps they do 
hear you, but they do not come...show not 
that they care, for they have seen the stains 
on the sheets and think you dirty for what 
you have done. Never could they imagine 
the truth, for nothing like that could happen 
under their noses. Do you know any of this, 
gwaniung-nîn?"

Silenced by his sobs, his overwhelming 
grief, Elrohir could do nothing but shake his 
head as he wept, inconsolable. The hand 
that still rested on Elladan's shoulder 
gripped like a vice, knuckles white from the 
force. And Elladan smiled beautifully 
through his tears, and drew his weeping 
brother close.

"Good. Then it was worth it."

A strangled sound of protest showed 
Elrohir's disagreement, but Elladan pressed 
his brother's head to his shoulder and rested 
his cheek upon it, tears descending from his 
face and onto the raven locks, where they 
sparkled for a moment in the candlelight 
before vanishing. He stroked those raven 
locks, decorated with crystalline beads of 
tears, stroked the trembling back, and 
whispered to his brother even as he cried 
himself.

"It was worth it, it was...I couldn't let you 
take that, too...how could I let you take the 
pain of someone's age-old bitterness, his 
inability to let go of the past? If he 
expended his anger and resentment on me, 
and you were spared, then it was worth it."

Elrohir sniffed softly. "But Haldir..." he 
mumbled into Elladan's shoulder. Elladan 
tensed.

"I...I could not help myself...I...I..." He 
tailed off on a low moan, and suddenly 
released Elrohir from his arms. "By this 
Valar-forsaken kingdom, Elrohir, what have 
I done? What have I done..."

Elrohir sniffed again and, shaking his head, 
extended his arms to Elladan once more. 
"Do not worry yourself on it, not tonight," 
he breathed. "Come morn, there will be 
trouble, but rest easy for a while."

His brother made a strange, hiccoughing 
sound as he drew him close, the product of 
innumerable tears shed that night, and lifted 
overflowing chocolate eyes to him. Cradling 
his skull, Elrohir then stretched out his neck, 
and placed a consecrating kiss on the lips of 
the other half of his shattered soul. It was, 
Elladan realised as he was manoeuvred to 
lie in the bed, one of love, pure, fraternal 
and innocent. And he knew then, as he was 
enveloped in his brother's arms, that it 
//had// been worth it.

Notes on the Text: Gaeldae is an original 
character. His name means "pale shadow", 
and as Elladan said, he was of Teleri origin. 
The references to the Kinslayings and the 
Noldor are to do with events in "The 
Silmarillion", briefly explained as follows.

The Kinslayings occurred just before the 
start of the First Age, in a place on the 
eastern shore of Valinor called Alqualondë, 
the haven of the Teleri. Here, the Noldor 
slaughtered the Teleri in cold blood as they 
marched from Valinor, and then stole their 
ships and sailed for Arda. Quite 
understandably, the remaining Teleri held 
little love for the Noldor after that. The 
Sindarin Elves were Teleri in origin, in fact, 
which explains Thranduil's dislike for the 
House of Elrond and Gil-galad (quite apart 
from the fact that he held them responsible 
for the death of his father. But I digress...).

As for the reference to the Númenóreans; 
as (I hope!) you know, Elrond had a twin 
brother called Elros, who chose to follow 
the fate of Men, unlike Elrond who chose 
that of the Elves. Elros was nonetheless 
gifted with a very long lifespan, and became 
the first King of Númenor, a place gifted to 
the Edain (Men) as a dwelling place. Elros 
died, and the Kingship was passed down 
through the generations, eventually reaching 
Isildur. And we all know what he did...

So, it can be taken that Gaeldae was just 
one very bitter Elf, with a vendetta against 
both the Noldor and Men. And what better 
way for him to vent his anger than to take it 
out on the eldest son of Elrond, related to 
Isildur somewhere along the line and direct 
descendant of Galadriel, who was also 
Noldo and directly descended from the 
Kinslayers. Her part in them is debatable, 
however. There is, of course, a much more 
detailed story behind this all, with lots of 
subplots and so on, involving a rather 
stroppy Elf called Fëanor who fell out with 
the Valar over some pretty jewels. But if 
you're interested in that then I suggest you 
read the book; I hope that this explains it all 
sufficiently!



***************
Chapter Twenty-One
***************

The Turning Point

Celeborn did not sleep that night; even if he 
had felt halfway inclined to, he was so 
restless that it would have been impossible 
anyway. His rooms were absolutely 
spotless, as were Haldir's, where he was 
now sitting in a chair in the corner, staring 
aimlessly at the slumbering Elf in the bed 
and picking anxiously at the sleeve of his 
robes.

It was shortly after sunrise, and clear skies 
promised a bright and cheery day to 
completely defy his black and despairing 
mood. He felt utterly helpless - something 
that he should have become used to over 
the past, month, but hadn't - for although a 
part of him was demanding that he march 
over to Elladan's rooms and hammer on the 
door, given that it //was// technically 
morning, he knew that Elrohir would not let 
him in. And it did not look as though Haldir 
was about to awaken any time soon, either.

The younger Elf was sleeping peacefully 
now, although there had been a few 
moments during the night when Celeborn 
had thought he would awaken, assailed by 
dreams. Pitiful whimpers had escaped the 
pale lips, as Haldir had started to shift 
restlessly under the sheets, obviously 
aggravating his injury, and much as 
Celeborn longed to go to him and soothe 
him, he dreaded waking him and scaring 
him further. He knew not why he had 
stayed though the night - sense of duty, he 
supposed - for it only made him feel even 
more redundant. 

He was, therefore, utterly shocked when 
the door handle turned, and a dark head 
appeared around the door. His eyes locked 
with Elrohir's for a moment, and his 
grandson beckoned him over.

"A word please, ata'da," he whispered, 
and then was gone. Celeborn blinked, and 
then, with one last glance over to Haldir, 
rose and followed his grandson.

Elrohir was waiting in the corridor for him. 
When Celeborn appeared, he said nothing, 
merely turning and making his way down 
the passage. The silver-haired lord had no 
choice but to follow, and it was not long 
before he found himself in an empty 
guestroom a short way away.

He closed the door behind him, and was a 
little surprised to see Elrohir pacing back 
and forth in front of the bed, one hand 
raised and pinching the bridge of his nose. 
The younger Elf showed no signs of 
stopping, clearly agitated as he was, and 
much as the pacing was winding Celeborn 
up, he forced himself to be calm and softly 
spoke his grandson's name.

Elrohir ground to a halt, and slowly turned 
his head towards his grandfather. By the 
looks of it he had obviously not had much 
of a better night than Celeborn. The light in 
Haldir's room had been too dim to show it, 
but his eyes were bloodshot and his skin 
pale, features haggard with stress and from 
lack of sleep. Celeborn waited patiently by 
the door - losing his temper or making 
demands would get them nowhere - and 
after a few moments the raven-haired 
Peredhel took a deep breath.

"Sorry...I wanted a word."

Celeborn arched a silver eyebrow, but said 
nothing. Incoherency had never been a 
weakness in either of his grandsons.

"I spoke with Elladan after you left." 
Silence. "He...he...do you remember 
Gaeldae?" Elrohir was pacing again.

The elder Elf shook his head. "No, I am 
sorry. I cannot say I do."

"Father's secretary, our tutor. Tall, pale 
hair, sharp features...Teleri origins. Grudge 
against the Noldor and a passion for little 
boys."

Celeborn lifted his head sharply. "What?" 
But Elrohir did not reply, the only sound his 
footsteps on the bare flagstones. "Elrohir, 
what are you talking about?"

Elrohir stopped pacing again, and his 
shoulders relaxed from his rigid posture into 
a defeated slump. "You heard. 
Elladan...he...he was abused. As a child."

"By Gaeldae?" A nod. "You are jesting 
me."

Elrohir looked up from the ground and spun 
round to face his grandfather. His eyes 
flashed dangerously. "You think he is lying?"

"Not necessarily. Although I think it could 
be highly likely."

"And why would he make something like 
that up?" The twin's posture was board-stiff 
now, defensive and threatening in the same 
instant. 

"Indeed. Think about it, Elrohir, it would be 
easy for --"

"No! You think about it, grandfather!" he 
shouted back. His voice sounded hoarse 
and grated in his ears; but that was of little 
import, other than to highlight his distress. 
"It would explain everything, how he 
became so sullen and introverted all of a 
sudden, how he would flinch from 
Glorfindel - and even you if you surprised 
him. Think about how, sometimes, he 
would hide in his rooms, would shut himself 
away, and not even Nana could tempt him 
out. How...how he wouldn't ask questions 
in lessons, though I knew he was dying to 
know the answer, and strived for 
perfection. You may not have seen it, but I 
did. It hurts to know that I did not realise it, 
but I saw it. I know, and you are the one 
who needs to think about it."

But still Celeborn did not look convinced. 
"Oh?" he said, cocking his head. "So then 
why did he rape that poor, defenceless 
Elfling? Why resent him like that? Surely he 
would have done the opposite, knowing 
what it was like?"

"Why did //you// rape him?" Elrohir spat 
back. "You were drunk. Right. And Elladan 
was bitter and hurting, after seeing us both 
mollycoddle Haldir, and after that argument 
with you; all I can see is that he wanted to 
show Haldir how he was meant to be 
treated." He raised a hand to silence 
Celeborn's outraged reply. "I know." He 
sighed, and suddenly his voice was resigned 
again. "I know. He was wrong. But this 
puts a whole new perspective on things."

"Does it?" Celeborn did not know what to 
think any more. "Do you have any proof?"

"Proof? Oh, yes, an easy thing to get hold 
of! You saw the way he wept in my arms 
last night, and that was not the last time. He 
told me everything, 
eventually...//everything//. That was proof 
enough."

"Oh really? Then tell //me//; why not you as 
well? Why him?"

In an instant, Elrohir visibly wilted, and 
there was a few seconds' silence as he hung 
his head. "Because Elladan begged him not 
to...because he didn't want that to happen 
to me, too. Oh, ata'da! Forty years! Forty 
years and I didn't even notice! He was a 
child, and Gaeldae took his 
innocence...forty years..." Tears filled the 
chocolate eyes, desolate and guilt-stricken 
as they looked over to Celeborn. The twin's 
voice quietened, and he leaned heavily 
against the bedpost as, finally, the first of a 
few tears escaped. "...And I didn't even 
notice."

Not knowing what else to do, Celeborn 
shuffled over to his grandson to take him in 
his arms. He was still undecided about 
Elladan - it was a lot to take in so fast - but 
he could not bear to see Elrohir's pain like 
this. It radiated from his entire person, and 
Celeborn could not help thinking that, if 
what he had said was true, as much of the 
pain was Elladan's as it was Elrohir's.
 
But Elrohir pushed him gently away, and 
swiped at the tears that were trickling down 
his face. Then, pinching the bridge of his 
nose again, he resumed his pacing. 
Celeborn sighed heavily, and sat on the 
edge of the bed.

"So now what? Where is...are you alright?"

Elrohir choked down another of the strange 
hiccoughing sounds that welled up in his 
throat, and waved away the question. "Fine, 
fine. He is in his rooms. I don't know." 
Celeborn shifted a little on the bed, and the 
twin glanced up at him sharply through his 
fingers, looking for all of Arda like his father 
in that instant. "Don't you dare."

Celeborn held up his hands. He had never 
seen Elrohir this riled up before, but knew 
from experiences with the rest of his family 
that it was probably not the best idea to 
become involved in an argument at that 
moment. But the younger twin merely 
looked at him for a moment, and then 
shook his head and turned away.

"You should go back to Haldir."

The elder Elf nodded wearily, unseen. 
Haldir would probably start to awaken 
soon. However Elrohir had started pacing 
again, clearly still agitated, and he was 
unsure whether to leave the twins alone 
together. "Will you be alright?" he asked in 
concern. 

Elrohir stopped, buried his face in his hands 
for a moment, and then drew a deep, 
steeling breath, shoving his bedraggled hair 
from his angst-fatigued face.

"I will have to be," he declared resolutely, 
and then visibly collected and braced 
himself. "Now go. Haldir needs you, and 
Elladan needs me."

So Celeborn, knowing that his grandson 
was, as usual, correct, did as he was bid, 
briefly clasping a tense shoulder on his way 
out in support. Elrohir's hand came up to 
cover that of his grandfather's, but it was 
only a second before it fell limply back to 
his side. And Celeborn left.

~~~

Haldir was slowly awakening. It took some 
time through the drug-induced haze, but 
gradually he was becoming more aware of 
both himself and his surroundings.

At first there had been blackness, warm, 
soft and comfortable. It was a lovely 
feeling, one that he did not want to emerge 
from, for it enveloped him and made him 
feel wholly safe. But it had faded, as the 
best things always do, and now he was 
becoming increasingly aware of pain...pain 
in his backside, throbbing in his ear, aches 
all over; and shifting in an attempt to 
alleviate them only made them worse. A 
soft, whimpering sound could be heard - 
was that him? Why did he hurt so much? 
Why...

Realisation hit him full-force, like a cave-
troll's hammer, and he froze on the 
mattress. His eyes snapped open - but 
since when had he slept with his eyes 
closed? That scared him as much as 
anything else, and for a moment he could 
not move, quite literally scared stiff. 
Elrohir...Elrohir? Or 
Elladan...had...had...the thought was too 
much to bear, and a choked sob caught in 
his throat as movement returned and violent 
trembling set in. In desperation and blind 
panic, he looked around the room, though 
he knew not what he was searching for.

And then he froze again. The door handle 
turned, and someone began to enter the 
room. Instantly, he shut his eyes. Perhaps if 
he pretended that he was still asleep then 
this person would leave him alone...

But he was to have no such luck, it seemed. 
The door shut quietly, and footsteps 
announced that the intruder was 
approaching the bed. Haldir had to force 
his breathing into a calm, steady rhythm, 
just to try and counteract his manic 
heartbeat. He lay still, though panicking, for 
the person was coming closer, it seemed, 
and willing them away did absolutely 
nothing. He knew not who it was; not that it 
mattered, for it was not as though he could 
trust anyone any more, and they were 
evidently unaware that he was awake. But 
still they were coming closer...

...and then stopped next to the bed. 
Involuntarily, Haldir held his breath and 
stiffened. The tension of the next few what 
may as well have been hours was 
unbearable, and his heart beat so hard and 
fast that Haldir was sure it would break a 
rib or two.

Then suddenly he felt cold, elegant fingers 
on his injured ear, and a puff of breath over 
his cheek. His eyes flew open.

And something snapped inside.

~~~

Celeborn started when he saw Haldir's eyes 
snap open, and though he tried to swiftly 
withdraw his hand his reactions were not 
quick enough to prevent the younger Elf 
from seizing his outstretched wrist. The 
expression in those wide hazel eyes worried 
him; they were wild, feral and...angry?

But he had no time to contemplate that, for 
he was totally unprepared for the sharp 
twist and jerk that Haldir gave to his arm. 
With unprecedented strength, Haldir 
managed to sling him across the bed so that 
he was lying sprawled on his stomach, 
gasping with the shock of it all but too 
cautious to defend himself. And Haldir was 
sitting across his back, pinning him down; 
where had the strength come from?

And again, before he knew what had 
happened, his wrists had been bound above 
his head, and Haldir was now securing them 
to the bedpost with what looked to be a 
strip from his decimated leggings. Craning 
his neck, he peered over his shoulder at the 
younger Elf, who was still straddling him 
and regarding his handiwork. There was a 
strange, almost unnatural glint in the awed 
hazel orbs, and his lips were slightly parted, 
almost smiling, chest heaving.

'H-haldir?' Celeborn managed to stammer 
out, whilst subtly testing his bonds. 'Are you 
alright?'

He mentally snickered at himself at the 
futility of the question, though in actual fact 
he had to admit that he was more than a 
little unnerved by the sudden turn in events. 
The predatory expression on those pale 
features worried him, especially when he 
got a better look as one hand was extended 
to cup his chin, and Haldir shifted to peer 
into his face with a cocked head and 
inquisitive eyes. Then he chuckled softly, a 
low, cold sound, and Celeborn shivered - 
even more so when, to the Elven-lord's 
distress, he reached slowly over to the 
nightstand and picked up the pocket knife 
that had been used to split the herbs earlier 
on.

'Oh, I am fine,' he breathed, focusing on the 
small blade with a curious half-smile. 'And 
yourself?'

Celeborn swallowed hard, and gave a 
nervous jerk of his head, which could have 
passed for a nod. And then he held his 
breath, jade eyes wide, for Haldir was 
bringing the knife closer to his neck...

Fear took over, and he rose to his knees in 
an instant, twisting and jerking and trying to 
shake the other Elf off him. He was 
incredibly worried for Haldir's state of 
mind, now; he was clearly disturbed. 
Celeborn knew not what happened to him, 
exactly, but this second rape must have 
finally turned him mad.

At last he succeeded in shaking Haldir off, 
but the other Elf just lay still for a moment, 
laughed quietly, and then rose back up to 
his knees.

'Relax, my lord, I am only going to cut your 
clothes off,' he purred smoothly, and 
Celeborn gulped again, unable to move 
from his vulnerable position on his knees 
with arms outstretched. His body was 
tensed painfully as the knife was brought 
towards his neck again, and although he 
leaned away as much as his bonds would 
allow him, eyes wide in apprehension, in the 
end he was unable to escape, and Haldir 
set the tip of the blade against the collar of 
Celeborn's green, crumpled robes.

The silver-haired Elven-lord could not take 
his eyes from the blade as Haldir drew it 
languidly down the neck of his robes, over 
the shoulder and down the arm, finishing at 
the wrist. The robe fell open across his 
chest, cool air teasing the pale skin over 
taut muscles to miniature bumps - or was it 
the tension of the situation? He was unsure, 
though eventually decided that it was the 
latter as Haldir moved to repeat the actions 
on the other sleeve, and finally released the 
breath that he had been holding for some 
time when the robe fell away from his 
shoulders completely, and the knife was 
momentarily removed. 

Haldir had sat back on his heels for a short 
while, and seemed to be admiring either his 
handiwork or Celeborn's body - the Elven-
lord was unsure which. Celeborn looked at 
him for a moment, and then gathered the 
nerve to speak. 'Haldir...aier, what are you 
doing?' 

Slowly, the other Elf cocked his head. ' I 
told you. Cutting your clothes off,' he 
retorted casually. Celeborn's next question 
was hesitant.

'Then what?'

And Haldir inclined his head to the other 
side, pursing his lips in feigned indecision. 
'Ooh, I don't know yet. Haven't decided.' 
As he said this, he rose again and crawled 
closer to Celeborn, then picked up the knife 
and recommenced his actions as before. 
The sharp metal sliced easily down one side 
of the remaining green fabric with a soft 
hiss, until it could be pulled away from long, 
trembling legs, and Celeborn was left 
wearing nothing but a breechcloth. Haldir 
then lifted his eyes to the elder Elf's, arched 
one eyebrow, smirking, and swiftly slashed 
at the one remaining item of clothing. The 
breechcloth fell away, and the now-naked 
Elven-lord coughed softly in 
embarrassment, though he did not remove 
his eyes from Haldir.

Now looking distinctly interested in his 
newfound task, the younger Elf licked his 
lips with intent and raised the blade once 
more. Celeborn closed his eyes this time as 
he felt the icy metal against his flesh; Haldir 
was trailing the tip of the point over his skin. 
It was not hard enough to draw blood, but 
it sent shivers through his body as lazy, 
meaningless patterns were traced over him, 
and raised the hairs on the back of his neck 
in a strangely erotic way when it was drawn 
delicately down his spine.

'You know, my lord, you really are quite 
comely,' Haldir was saying. The calmness in 
his voice unsettled Celeborn, though he 
dared not move; who knew what the 
disturbed Elf might do next? He tried to 
listen to what was being said, in case it 
would give him a clue, but missed the next 
few words, for the knife slid around his hip 
and settled by his groin. 

Now he really did have cause to hold his 
breath; though he could not see, he could 
feel Haldir drawing the tip of the blade 
gently up and down the apex of his thigh, 
moving closer to his genitals...

A gasp left his lips upon feeling the cold 
metal against the skin of his shaft, and a low 
chuckle could be heard from the other Elf, 
followed by a soft sound of interest and a 
cringe from Celeborn, when he felt his 
member twitch at the feel.

'Do you like that, my lord?' drawled Haldir, 
and did it again. And again, Celeborn 
cringed; he was most definitely growing 
aroused! 'You do. How interesting.'

Withdrawing the blade, he transferred it so 
that the flat of it was positioned beneath 
Celeborn's chin, and the Elven-lord opened 
his eyes as his face was moved towards the 
knife-bearer. The hazel eyes that met his 
were so different now to any other time he 
had looked into them; gone was the fear, 
and gone was the self-doubt. That which 
filled them now was manic and wild - loss 
of control at having it as he did now, and an 
almost demonic glint...

Haldir's gaze as he peered into Celeborn's 
face for the second time seemed to pierce 
right through him; the face was calm 
enough, now, but it was just those 
eyes...transfixed, the Elven-lord was unable 
to tear his own eyes from them, even when 
Haldir started to lean closer and closer - 
and then kissed him.

Celeborn was riveted to the spot in total 
shock, and neither resisted nor returned the 
kiss. Haldir's lips were soft and fleeting 
upon his, though there was a strange 
possessiveness in the delicate contact that 
made him shiver. It lasted only a second, 
before the younger Elf pulled back, a 
strange smile on his face, and licked his lips.

'Nice,' he commented. Then, suddenly, he 
whipped the blade out from under 
Celeborn's chin, and tossed it backwards 
onto the stone floor. It hit the flagstones 
with a resounding clang, which made the 
Elven-lord jump. He looked at Haldir again, 
and the strange smile grew wider.

'We won't be needing that.'

 

***************
Chapter Twenty-Two
***************

The Other Side

Celeborn almost regretted heaving that sigh 
of relief when the knife hit the floor, for 
Haldir fixed those piercing orbs upon him 
once more.

'Oh, I //am// sorry, I had forgotten - you 
were enjoying that, weren't you?'

Feeling slightly bolder now that the younger 
Elf was no longer holding the knife - no 
matter how short a distance away it lay - 
Celeborn lifted his chin in slight defiance. 'It 
would appear that way.'

Haldir put on a face of pretend compassion. 
'I could get it again, if you wanted me to,' 
he said, making to rise from the bed, but 
stopped at a soft growl from the Elven-lord, 
snickering. 'Ah, well, just as well.' His voice 
was singsong, mocking the tension of the 
situation. 'I was getting bored with that.'

'So, what other plans do you have to 
entertain yourself this fine morning?' ground 
out Celeborn, despite himself. Haldir, who 
had focused his gaze elsewhere for the time 
being, cast him a sidelong glance of 
amusement.

'Sarcasm doesn't become you, pen-iaur,' 
he intoned lightly, now allowing his gaze to 
drift over the elder Elf's body. 'And you 
seem to be sufficient entertainment at the 
moment.' Celeborn tried to suppress a 
shiver - of which emotion, he knew not, be 
it fear, trepidation or lust - as Haldir raised 
one hand and began to run it over his flesh 
in sweeping, casual motions. He failed, 
however, and the shudder rippled through 
his muscles, only intensifying when the cool, 
elegant hand settled on his buttock, the 
thumb lightly caressing the very top of the 
cleft.

And all the while Haldir was talking to him, 
as though this were an everyday 
occurrence. 'I suppose,' he was saying, 
absently drumming his fingertips on 
Celeborn's skin, 'we could go for another 
riding lesson.' A heavy pause. 'But no. Not 
in my current condition. My poor, battered 
backside would not stand up for that, I 
don't think. I am hardly in any state for that.' 
He paused again, and Celeborn bit his lip to 
prevent a groan from escaping as one 
slender finger dipped lower into the cleft.

'Of course, you could always give me 
another Elvish lesson. Then again, I am 
almost fluent now - I have been practising, 
you know.'

Suddenly, the hand was gone from his 
body, and Celeborn found himself staring 
straight into those wild hazel eyes again, 
filled with pure and unbridled chaos. What 
tumults filled the tormented brain, he could 
only imagine. Haldir switched to speaking 
Sindarin, all the more unnerving for the 
fluency and feeling in his quiet voice.

"What a good student I must be; I have 
listened and learned from all that you have 
said and done. I have learned to ride, 
learned to speak Elvish, learned to have 
faith. And now I am going to teach you 
what you have also taught me - to feel 
helpless and dirty and wanton and wanted 
all at once, to have faith ripped away from 
you in an instant. To be taken..."

“So take me then,” hissed Celeborn back, 
concealing a gasp - poorly.

Haldir chuckled. “Would you like that?”

“Would //you// like that?” retorted the 
Elven-lord, and then bit his lip as the 
younger Elf casually slipped a finger inside 
him. He could feel the blood flushing his 
cheeks and his pulse increasing as the digit 
was wiggled a little inside him, and the hazel 
orbs danced, flecked with gold and 
madness.

“I think the answer on both accounts is 
yes,” smirked Haldir, who wiggled his finger 
a little more and then extracted his finger. A 
pained look flashed across the features of 
the captive Elven-lord for an instant before 
he could disguise it, though he shook his 
head in a poorly convincing motion of 
disagreement.

“Oh, come now, my lord,” purred Haldir, 
now trailing one finger lightly over creamy 
skin, tracing delicate, meaningless patters as 
he had done with the knife, over hip, thigh, 
inner upper arm… The skin tingled and 
shivered under the touch, belying 
Celeborn’s denial almost as much as his 
erection, which stood thick and proud 
against his stomach. “What are you so 
afraid to admit? That perhaps you might 
//like// to be taken whilst so vulnerable and 
helpless? And powerless? Powerless to do 
anything…to just feel. Aye, to feel me 
whilst I fill you wholly, and take you deeply, 
and hard, and fast, and selfishly…”

Celeborn could not suppress a shudder 
now, even though Haldir had taken away all 
contact, for despite the absence of skin-on-
skin, the words seemed to touch him all 
over.

“Mmm, yes, you //would// like that.” The 
strange smile had returned; Celeborn could 
see it because Haldir had shifted back up 
the bed to kneel by his head. “You would 
like that…”

And suddenly Celeborn’s chin had been 
grasped between thumb and forefinger, and 
his head turned towards the other Elf; his 
mouth was being practically devoured. A 
tongue forced itself between his lips at the 
same time as his lower jaw was pulled 
down, and swept itself roughly, forcefully, 
passionately around the inside of his mouth. 
But still the Elven-lord tried to pull back - 
and succeeded, a little, so that he was able 
to speak, albeit against Haldir's lips.

"No..." //My, how convincing *that* 
sounded!//

Haldir kissed his lips softly again. "Yes..." 
he replied.

"No..."

Kiss. "Yes..."

"No...don't...you can't..." 

Kiss, and a smirk. "Yes...do...I can..."

Celeborn didn't even know why he was 
denying this anymore; his so-called 
protestations were far from compelling, and 
now even Haldir's whispered words 
seemed to be arousing him! And then the 
way in which Haldir seemed to almost echo 
his own feelings - was Celeborn's mind 
playing some sort of sick trick on him? If he 
could have pinched himself, he would have. 
The whole situation was beginning to make 
his head spin...or was that arousal?

"Just do it, Haldir," he growled, "I grow 
bored with your games."

"Games, pen-iaur?" The expression of 
confusion on Haldir's face was shockingly 
believable as he released the elder Elf's face 
with a flourish and tossed his long, silver 
hair. "I play no games, I merely re-enact the 
reality. You were the one playing the games 
- I was a pawn, if you recall."

He paused, during which time Celeborn 
opened his mouth to protest. But Haldir sat 
back on his heels and dragged a finger 
carefully over Celeborn's ribs, so that all 
that left the elder Elf's lips was a soft gasp, 
and his body shuddered. Haldir snickered.

"But," he continued, "reality shows that your 
body begs to be taken - admit it or not, as 
you will." Celeborn felt the bed shift as 
Haldir disappeared from his sight, and he 
craned his neck to try and keep an eye on 
the younger Elf. He gasped when he felt a 
knee between his legs, nudging them apart 
so that he was spread wide open, and 
somehow he found that he lacked the 
willpower to resist any longer. Resigned - 
or relieved? He could no longer be sure - 
he let his head fall so that it hung between 
his extended arms, silvery hair curtaining the 
shame- and arousal-induced crimson 
splashed across his face.

"Oh, are you confused, my lord?" Haldir 
almost sounded sympathetic, and did not 
speak for a moment, during which Celeborn 
was certain he heard the sound of spitting. 
"Don't worry. I felt like that. You just don't 
know what to think, do you? You almost 
think you want this, or at least your body 
tells you so, and yet your mind speaks 
otherwise. Is that how you feel, my lord?"

The elder Elf felt himself being petted 
reassuringly on the shoulder - something he 
could not believe was happening. He 
actually found the wet finger that he felt at 
his opening much easier to accept; it just felt 
so much more realistic!

"It is like having two minds, almost - most, 
most strange. They contradict each other, 
don't they? One tells you yes, the other tells 
you no, one tells you stop, the other tells 
you go. And whilst one tells you you're 
quiet and timid, the other says you're brave, 
and why should you stand for being some 
sort of slave? Slaves have no freedom; 
ultimately, they must follow their master's 
diction...so what does that make you? A 
slave of your own affliction?"

Despite himself, Celeborn chuckled. "Oh, 
how poetic. And touché, it would seem." 
But he said no more, for it was at that 
moment that Haldir removed his finger and 
sheathed himself inside the Elven-lord. 
Celeborn choked out a gasp, for it hurt, 
even with spittle as a makeshift lubricant - 
or perhaps Haldir considered himself 
generous by stretching to even that. But 
//still// his body wanted this...the sundering 
pain felt almost...//good//...

And above him Haldir was still speaking as 
though this was an everyday occurrence! 
So his breathing was becoming a little 
ragged, and his words were slightly gasped, 
but even with that taken into 
consideration...

"These two points of view...they both need 
a way out...every now and then. Looks like 
I finally made it...but even now...I can feel 
the other side of me...the quiet one...the one 
that you might...be familiar with. He doesn't 
know...what's going on...this is strange for 
him..."

Celeborn tried to focus on the disjointed 
words, and to ignore the filling pain that felt 
so good, that occasionally sent bursts of 
shiver-inducing ecstasy through his body, 
and the suddenly strong hands which were 
gripping his hips, as Haldir thrust into him 
hard and long and deep. His mind wanted 
to listen but his body betrayed him - //how 
ironic// - and as his member grew and 
swelled and ached, Haldir's thrusts grew 
irregular and more desperate, and the 
words came less frequently.

"I am going...he will...come back..." 

And then, finally, the hands on his hips 
clenched, bound to bruise, and the whole of 
the younger Elf's slender figure shuddered 
and contracted around the last few gasped 
words.

"Be gentle...with him...when he returns."

Then it was over. Haldir collapsed 
sideways onto the bed with his eyes closed, 
wrenching his now-flaccid member from 
Celeborn's tense and thrumming body. He 
lay for a few moments, panting hard, but 
otherwise motionless, a film of sweat 
covering his body.

Stretching his neck again, Celeborn tried to 
get a better look at the younger Elf, but his 
whole body was trembling by now with 
unreleased need and his arms were 
beginning to ache. It was because of this 
that he nearly missed the opening of the 
hazel eyes, for he went to turn his head 
away.

Slowly, the eyelids fluttered open, revealing 
the usual wary expression. In a matter of 
moments, however, they flooded with 
terror, and in little more than a heartbeat 
Haldir shot upright and off the bed. He 
hesitated for a moment, seemingly unable to 
tear his eyes from Celeborn, and then, 
uttering a low, animal moan, turned and fled 
from the room. 

 


***************
Chapter Twenty-Three
***************

The Compromise

Elrohir was met by doleful, watery brown 
eyes upon his return, and an accusing, 
whispered, "You left".

His heart gave a painful twist in his chest, 
guilt-stricken even more so now than 
before, and he rushed over to collect his 
brother into his arms.

"Oh, gwanunig-nîn, I am so sorry," he 
breathed, pressing their cheeks together 
and noticing with little relief the way in 
which the tension started to drain from the 
identical body. "It was waking alone, wasn't 
it?"

Elladan rubbed his back, and drew a deep 
breath. "Yes," he admitted quietly, and 
slightly shakily, "but don't worry about it. 
Don't worry."

Elrohir shook his head and buried his face 
in his brother's neck, and, for a while, there 
was silence.

"Where did you go?" asked Elladan at 
length. Elrohir lifted his head, and Elladan 
sensed the tension that filled his form in an 
instant.

"To see grandfather."

Now Elladan tensed, and his eyes locked 
with his brother's, panic-laden. "W...what 
did you tell him?"

"The truth," replied Elrohir, absently 
glancing down for a second. He picked up 
one of his brother's raven locks and wound 
it around his finger, then idly started to twirl 
it between finger and thumb. 

"And what d-did he say?"

Elrohir stalled for a moment; there were so 
few ways you could gently put the answer 
"not much". He was still uncertain as to 
whether Celeborn had believed him, and in 
the end he settled for, "He took it as well as 
could be expected. I think he had a little 
trouble understanding."

Elladan relaxed so much at the statement 
that Elrohir cursed himself at the next words 
to leave his mouth. His brother's body 
became practically rigid again when he 
spoke them, and he started to gnaw 
nervously on his lower lip and dropped his 
gaze.

"You should talk to him."

Wide-eyed, the elder twin went to shake 
his head, but stopped when Elrohir caught 
both sides of his head in his hands, coercing 
eye contact. "You know you have to."

Elladan closed his eyes and nodded slowly, 
and Elrohir kissed his knitted brow. "I will 
come with you," he reassured his twin, now 
moving one hand to stroke the tangled 
raven locks. "Besides, we don't have to go 
straight away. I don't know about you, but I 
could do with a good, hot bath."

***

And so it was about an hour later that both 
twins finally began to make their way to 
Haldir's chambers, refreshed after bathing 
and dressed in clean robes with hair neatly 
braided once more. It had taken Elrohir a 
fair amount of effort to convince Elladan 
that Celeborn was not about to rip his head 
from his shoulders, and also that Haldir 
would almost certainly have not awoken yet 
- and even after all that, he had Elladan''s 
hand clasped tightly in his, as they walked 
slowly down the corridor.

The elder twin's posture was stiff and 
defensive as they stopped outside the door 
of their destination, which was slightly ajar, 
and Elrohir released his hand so that he 
could rest his own in the small of his 
brother's back. With one last look at 
Elladan, whose face had paled and lips 
were pursed with nervousness, he tapped 
softly on the door and then pushed it open. 
What he saw made his blood run cold with 
the shock of it.

Celeborn looked up, appearing half relieved 
to see the twins standing rooted to the spot 
in the doorway, though his features were 
crimson with probable embarrassment. He 
was balanced on his knees, his arms were 
stretched out before him and bound firmly 
to the bed, and he was...naked. No, not 
just naked...he was aroused!

"Er...ata'da..." he began, unsure of what to 
make of the whole situation. Celeborn 
grimaced at him.

"A little help would be nice, gwenneth," he 
ground out, finally spurring Elrohir into 
action.

"Yes, yes, of course... Elladan?" Turning to 
his brother, the younger twin sighed to see 
the state of him. His eyes were big and 
seemingly transfixed to the figure of his 
grandfather bound to the bed; his face had 
blanched, and he was visibly quaking. He 
started when Elrohir placed both hands 
gently on his shoulders and peered into his 
eyes; the horror radiating from him was 
palpable. Then, wide eyes darting from 
Celeborn to Elrohir, he seemed to go into a 
mode of panic and tried to pull backwards, 
to flee. But Elrohir caught his wrist and 
spoke softly to him, and after a moment the 
worst of the panic seemed to pass.

Tenderly, the younger twin gathered his 
shocked double into his arms. "He didn't..." 
he whispered, unable to believe that 
Gaeldae had actually tied a young child to 
the bed and abused him. But Elladan 
nodded against his shoulder, terrified eyes 
still staring helplessly at the hapless figure on 
the bed, who was watching their exchange 
with quiet expectance. 
~~~

Forgetting about his predicament for the 
current moment, it was with a slightly more 
open mind than before that Celeborn 
examined Elladan's behaviour in the arms of 
his brother. If his ashen features and the 
way in which he trembled did not already 
tell of the horror of his memories then the 
expression in his eyes did; that expression 
did not lie. Maybe he had judged too 
quickly.

And then Elladan's admittance hit him full-
force. //Tied to the bed? Gaeldae had 
tied a child to the bed and abused him? 
Elladan? How *anyone* in their right 
mind could even *think* of doing such a 
thing...// The very notion made him seethe, 
although he hid it as best he could beneath a 
placid expression. The elder twin looked as 
though he was about to bolt - he probably 
would have, had Elrohir not been holding 
and soothing him as he was - and a fierce 
expression, no matter the reason, would not 
help matters. The memories in the dark 
eyes were just too much for even Celeborn 
to stare into any longer, and, his face 
burning even brighter with embarrassment, 
he averted his jade eyes to the bedclothes. 
His anger had clearly clouded his vision, it 
would seem; yes, so Elladan had been 
wrong to rape Haldir, but this was probably 
as legitimate an excuse as he was going to 
get. They needed to talk.

Celeborn glanced up again when he heard 
Elrohir's voice, and saw him ushering his 
brother past the threshold of the room and 
closing the door. With infinite calm - quite 
probably forced - and patience - most 
definitely intrinsic - the younger twin 
succeeded in settling Elladan into the large 
armchair that Celeborn had occupied the 
previous night.

"Stay here," he muttered, briefly squeezing a 
shaking shoulder, and then made his way 
over to the bed. Celeborn cleared his throat 
and jerked his head towards where the 
knife lay abandoned on the floor, and 
Elrohir's diversion thus permitted him 
another glance at his firstborn grandson. 
Elladan had curled one leg up underneath 
him and was hugging his waist miserably; he 
looked utterly, utterly wretched. His gaze 
was still glued to Celeborn's prone figure on 
the bed, it would seem, and when the 
Elven-lord managed to catch his eye for a 
moment, Elladan spluttered, a half-cough, 
half-choke, and looked away.

Sighing, the silver-haired Elf turned to focus 
his attentions on Elrohir, who had reached 
the bed and was stretching across to sever 
his grandfather's bonds. He was discretely 
ignoring the fact that Celeborn was still 
slightly aroused, though it was now fading, 
and the Elf in question was most grateful for 
this.
 
"Grandfather? What //happened//?!" 
whispered Elrohir into the pointed ear as he 
leaned over the naked form.


Celeborn eyed him guardedly as the last of 
his bonds were cut, and sat up with a sigh 
of relief despite himself, rubbing his wrists 
and grabbing a sheet to cover his body.

"Thank you," he replied, equally as softly, 
though both spared a glance for the 
troubled Elf in the corner. Elladan failed to 
notice either of their attentions, instead 
continuing to stare at the floor and pick at 
the sleeve of his robe. "Haldir...I think 
Haldir's senses have deserted him, Elrohir."

"Well, clearly!" The younger twin's sharp 
reply left his lips somewhat louder than he 
intended, and he caught himself before he 
continued. "He has just tied you down, and, 
I assume, taken you - whether you enjoyed 
it or not is your own business - but this is 
hardly the same Elf that walked through 
those doors six months ago and was 
bewitched by the entrance hall ceiling, is it?"

"But I think it is," responded the Elven-lord, 
earning him an arch look from the dark-
haired Peredhel. "He spoke of the other 
side of him; of conflicting voices and points 
of view...he told me to be gentle with the 
quiet one when he returned..."

Elrohir raised the other eyebrow, and shot 
another glance at Elladan, just to make 
sure. "And what do you make of all this?"

"I believe him," whispered back Celeborn. 

"Elladan or Haldir?"

"Both. The looks in their eyes, Elrohir...I 
knew from looking into his eyes that it was 
not the same Haldir - but it //was// him who 
fled afterwards. He was terrified by it; I 
don't think he knew what had happened."

"Where did he go?"

Celeborn inclined his head, a wryly amused 
expression upon his face. "I don't know - I 
was hardly in a position to follow him, now, 
was I?" Elrohir blinked apologetically. 
"Would you go and find him?"

The younger Elf looked torn, and his gaze 
was drawn to his brother once more. "But I 
cannot leave Elladan..."

"Please, Elrohir." Celeborn rested a hand 
on his grandson's shoulder, capturing his 
attention again, and his jade eyes were filled 
with imploring. "You are the only one he 
trusts." Elrohir opened his mouth to protest 
again, but Celeborn cut him off. "And I will 
take care of Elladan." His voice was 
remarkably soft, and without a trace of 
menace in it; the mild tone seemed to work, 
for Elrohir finally acquiesced.

"Very well - but be //gentle// with him. He 
is scared of you."

Despite the fact that he had already known 
this, Celeborn was a little taken aback. "But 
he has no reason to be."

Elrohir looked at him as he rose to his feet 
and moved to the wardrobe. "Yes, //I// 
know that...now." He opened the door and 
then selected a dressing robe, and their 
eyes met as he tossed it to the silver-haired 
Elf. Not another word passed between 
them, as Celeborn dressed quickly and 
silently in the robe, immensely thankful for 
the fact that his arousal had finally faded 
completely, and Elrohir moved to kneel at 
Elladan's side.

"Elladan? I have to go and find Haldir," he 
heard the younger twin say. "Will you stay 
here with ata'da?"

Although he was not looking, Celeborn 
gathered with a pang of guilt that Elladan 
made some form of protest, for he heard 
Elrohir making soft, shushing sounds, 
followed by a whispered, "He won't hurt 
you, I have told you that. You will be 
alright, trust me." 

And at length Elladan seemed to surrender, 
for Elrohir told him that he wouldn't be long, 
and then quietly left the room.

~~~

Elladan appreciated the fact that his 
grandfather chose to sit on the edge of the 
bed; he truly did. There were a good eight 
feet between them, and although he was 
well aware that his posture did not show it, 
the distance helped him to relax by just the 
tiniest amount.

Another thing of which he was well aware 
was Celeborn's jade regard upon him, and 
after a mental brace and a deep breath, he 
hesitantly raised his eyes to meet the elder 
Elf's. Their gazes locked for a few 
moments, during which time Elladan had the 
strange feeling that he was being scrutinised, 
but the totally unreadable expression in his 
grandfather's eyes soon made him feel 
uncomfortable, and he looked guiltily away 
again. An audible sigh left Celeborn's lips.

"Elladan..." he began, but then hesitated for 
a moment. He seemed to be either 
gathering himself, or uncertain of what to 
say, exactly, because it was quite a time 
before the next words broke the hush. 
Elladan was just shocked by the fact that he 
had spoken them.

"How is Haldir?"

Celeborn, apparently, seemed equally as 
shocked, and stammered for a second 
before he answered. "He...I...he is not too 
well, I don't think. Mentally."

Elladan gave a wry, twisted smile, sadness-
laced, and his voice was unsteady. "He was 
bound to be affected...after what I...I..."

"After what you have done?" There was no 
accusation in Celeborn's quiet voice; in fact 
there was nothing, emotionless, but for the 
truth. Elladan closed his eyes, though it did 
not prevent a tear from slipping out and 
skating down an ashen cheek, and nodded.

"I did this." His voice was choked, thick 
with emotion, with regret, with sadness and 
with tears. And as he pressed the heels of 
his hands into his closed eyes, willing the 
whirling everything in his brain into nothing, 
he missed the soft rustle of cloth and light 
footsteps on the flags, which meant that he 
only became aware of Celeborn's presence 
at his side when a gentle hand was laid 
across his knee.

"No. //We// did this." Elladan forgot to 
breathe. "And you had a great deal more 
reason than I."

Opening his eyes, slowly, as though this 
were a Valar-sent mirage to taunt him and 
haunt him, the twin focused on his 
grandfather, kneeling at his feet. "You...you 
are not angry?" he gasped, and, 
remembering that he had not inhaled in the 
past few seconds, did so. Again, 
Celeborn's features were unreadable.

"I must confess I am...though with whom I 
am no longer sure. I find it hard not to 
believe what Elrohir has told me..."

Elladan knew that he should not be allowing 
the hope in his eyes to shine as it was; 
surely this was some sort of twisted joke? 
He deserved Celeborn's wrath, he knew he 
did, and he was willing to accept it for 
precisely that reason. 

"But I deserve it," he whispered, looking 
down on his grandfather with glassy eyes. 
"Look at what has happened to him - look 
at what I have done. I broke him..."

Celeborn sighed, and Elladan got the 
distinct impression that he found his next 
words extremely difficult to admit. "Do not 
judge yourself too harshly, gweniaur, this is 
not all your fault. I cannot be so angry with 
you for what you have done - I am angry 
with you for not saying a thing for all those 
years, though. Did you honestly think that 
nobody would help you?" 

The twin shrugged, and the Elven-lord 
continued. "And I am angry with myself, 
and with Elrohir, and your parents, and 
everyone else who should have noticed, but 
didn't...how well did you manage to hide 
this?!" 

Again, the twin shrugged, but this time the 
motion was accompanied by a soft, half-
hearted chuckle. The sound seemed to 
encourage Celeborn, for his spare hand 
found its way to Elladan's own, still picking 
at the sleeve of his robe. Long fingers 
clasped long fingers, stilling the nervous 
motion, and an anxious smile was offered to 
the Peredhel.

"And of course I am still angry with this 
Gaeldae - I have never met the wretched 
creature, but seeing what he did to you..." 
Elladan could not help but flinch at the 
name, and the fingers around his own 
tightened a fraction in support. "I could not 
bear to look at the horror and the memories 
in your eyes just then - it was that which 
made me see that there was truth in 
Elrohir's words. And the feeling that //I// 
had, being at someone's mercy like that... 
Oh, Elladan, how in the name of the Valar 
did you cope?"

At this, the twin did manage to smile, 
though it was to himself, rather than at his 
grandfather, and he closed his eyes. 
"Because I knew that it would be worth it." 
He did not open his eyes again, so he felt 
instead of saw Celeborn rise up, and then 
position himself on the arm of the chair. He 
did not protest when a strong but gentle 
arm was laid across his shoulders and he 
was pulled closer to the warm, robed body, 
and soft words were whispered into his ear. 
And he leaned into the Elven-lord, smiling 
softly at hearing that his grandfather did still 
love him, no matter what had happened in 
the past; he knew that this was as good as it 
would get at the moment.

 

***************
Chapter Twenty-Four
***************

Although Elrohir was loath to admit it, he 
was becoming rather worried. He had 
scoured the entire upstairs of the Last 
Homely House, and the best portion of the 
ground floor, and still there was no sign of 
Haldir. All the obviously unobvious places 
had proved fruitless; those including the 
kitchen, the library, various bathrooms and 
terraces, and Celeborn's own bedroom. 
The last place in which he searched - his 
father's old study - proved no more 
successful, and, with a muffled noise of 
exasperation, the twin turned and walked 
back along the corridor.

He was so preoccupied with wondering 
where on Arda the Elfling could have got to 
that he almost failed to notice the pale, 
trembling figure huddled behind one of the 
statues as he passed it. And, he had to 
admit, it was a pretty good hiding place, for 
he had walked along that corridor three 
times already and this was the first time he 
had noticed Haldir.

Elrohir stopped, and, moving backwards a 
few paces, rested his back against the wall 
and slid down it so that he was sitting on the 
floor, a good few feet away from the statue. 
He could sense Haldir's fear, and regretted 
that this was probably going to scare him 
further; however, it had to be done.

'Good hiding place,' he said quietly in 
Westron, and then waited a few moments. 
Predictably, there was no answer, so he 
turned his head to look at the figure on his 
right. And realisation dawned on him. 
'Ah...you have no clothes on.'

Haldir coughed quietly and nodded, his face 
flushing bright crimson, and he seemed to 
curl himself into an even tighter ball. Elrohir 
took pity on him, thankful for the fact that 
he had dressed in formal robes today. 
Rising to his knees, he stripped off his outer 
robe and handed it to the younger Elf. 
Damp hazel orbs regarded him warily for 
several seconds, then a thin, pale hand was 
tentatively extended, and Haldir snatched 
away the robe. The gratitude shone in his 
eyes as he wrapped the cloth tightly about 
himself, though at the same time warring 
with distrust and fright. Elrohir smiled kindly 
at him.

'Better?' A small nod. 'Good. You had me 
worried there for a while - I thought I 
wouldn't be able to find you.' Haldir 
shrugged, and averted his eyes. 'But I 
suppose that was the idea, really, wasn't it?' 
Haldir nodded, and then there was more 
silence. Elrohir sighed inwardly; this was 
going to be hard work.

'What can you remember?' he asked at 
length. 

It took a while for Haldir to answer; his 
mouth opened and closed a few times, and 
his brow furrowed as he pressed his lips 
tightly together. At last, however, he 
seemed to find either the words or the 
courage - or both - and stammered back, 
'Nothing...I...I w-woke up...and I saw...s-
saw...' He broke off, dropping his gaze to 
the floor.

'You saw my grandfather tied up,' offered 
Elrohir gently. 'Can you remember anything 
before that?'

A few more tears dribbled down pale 
cheeks, and Haldir closed his eyes as 
though in pain. He drew a deep, shuddering 
breath, releasing it on a soft sob. 'In the f-
for-rest...y-you...or El-lad-dan...I d-don't 
know...'

Elrohir winced inwardly; he hated to place 
the blame on his brother, but this was the 
only way in which he could hope to regain 
Haldir's trust. 'It was Elladan.'

Haldir glanced at him sidelong. 'El-lad-dan 
s-said he w-was y-you...' Pausing, he 
sniffed, and tried to gather himself 
somewhat. The sobs and violent shaking of 
his body were making it hard for him to 
speak. 'B-but th-then I knew...kn-knew it 
c-could-dn't be y-you...' 

A small, inaudible sigh of relief left the 
raven-haired Elf's lips, and he smiled softly. 
'So you don't think it was me?'

Haldir gave a tentative shake of his silver 
head. 'N-no... I d-don't.... No.' He paused 
again, and lifted a corner of the heavy russet 
robe as though to wipe his face with it, but 
then caught himself in time. Elrohir gestured 
for him to do so anyway, assuring the 
younger Elf that he did not mind. Hesitantly, 
Haldir mopped at his eyes with it. 

'But, b-but... I d-don't und-derstand,' he 
stammered at length.

Elrohir inclined his head. 'What don't you 
understand?' The younger Elf shrugged, and 
wound his arms tightly about his waist. He 
seemed to fold in upon himself, and bowed 
his head as though defeated.

'Anyth-thing... Why? And what h-
happened? Wh-what did I d-do?'

'Honestly, Haldir, I'm not sure,' admitted 
Elrohir with a sigh. 'And Elladan has some 
serious problems, which we began to sort 
out last night. But it's not important right 
now, I promise you that. It would be better 
to sort it out later.' Haldir nodded, though 
did not lift his gaze from his knees, and 
whimpered softly. Elrohir's stomach 
wrenched at the sound, so filled with 
loneliness and utterly heartbreaking.

'S-so what h-hap-pens now?' Tears were 
still trickling down the younger Elf's cheeks 
and dripping off his chin, plopping fatly onto 
the russet velvet in which he was swathed. 
His fear, confusion and sense of isolation 
were painfully clear to Elrohir, and it made 
his own eyelids prickle with tears. //Such 
innocence, even now...//

'I should like to take you to the healing wing 
- I feel it would be the best place, givenn the 
circumstances.' Elrohir was extremely 
grateful that his voice remained steady, even 
given that he himself was rather shaken at 
that point. //Someone// had to keep their 
composure, and it looked as though it 
would have to be him. But Haldir eyed him 
dubiously from behind a curtain of 
dishevelled silver locks, and he quickly 
found that he was explaining away his 
words like a nervous Elfling who could not 
mind his tongue.

'It's just that it's quiet up there, and out of 
the way - a different environment. Neutral 
territory, so to speak...'

But it did not appear that Haldir was really 
registering his words anyway; the younger 
Elf seemed to have drifted into a trance-like 
state for a moment. He swiftly came back 
to himself when Elrohir stopped talking, 
however, blinking tiredly and then turning 
his head towards the raven-haired twin. 
Their eyes locked, chocolate and hazel, and 
Elrohir felt the wash of soul-destroying 
emotions that Haldir must have been feeling. 
He inclined his dark head, and, slowly, 
Haldir nodded.

With a gentle smile, designed so as to 
conceal the jubilations he felt at this small 
but significant step, Elrohir extended one 
hand towards the younger Elf. For several 
moments Haldir simply sat and stared at it, 
almost to the point at which Elrohir thought 
he would not take it. At last, however, the 
Peredhel found a slender and trembling 
hand clasping at his own as Haldir finally 
accepted his offer of aid.

Carefully, with no sudden movements and 
unobtrusive gestures, Elrohir helped Haldir 
out from behind the statue and onto his feet. 
The younger Elf still looked pitiful, with his 
hair lank and rat-tailed about his skinny 
shoulders, his ungainly movements, and with 
Elrohir's outer robe still clutched around 
him. The twin quietly suggested that Haldir 
dress himself properly in the robe, which he 
did gladly as brown eyes were averted. 
Then, to his total shock, Elrohir felt cold 
fingers in his once more, and, looking back, 
discovered that Haldir had taken his hand 
again.

From the expression on the tear-streaked 
face - brought about, Elrohir assumed, by 
the shock on his own - Haldir was about to 
relinquish the contact; he prevented that, 
however, by tightening the grip just enough 
to suggest otherwise and by adopting an 
encouraging expression. And the silver-
haired youngster relaxed by the tiniest 
amount. He looked tragically comical in 
Elrohir's robe, for the Peredhel's Edain 
heritage had left him with the legacy of a 
slightly bulkier body than full-blooded 
Elves. He was also a little taller than Haldir, 
and this meant that the robe appeared 
almost draped over the Elfling, billowing, 
with cuffs down to knuckles and hem to 
floor. 

Elrohir did not laugh, however, but instead 
maintained his compassionate expression 
and placed a slight pressure on the hand in 
his own. He began to walk, and Haldir 
followed with stiff, awkward movements, 
being slowly led, hand-in-hand, to the 
healing wing of the Last Homely House.
	

~~~

The last thing that Haldir wanted was to be 
put to bed again, and he was grateful that 
Elrohir understood that. He was, however, 
desperate for a bath again, for he was dirty, 
sticky and cold. Fortunately, the healing 
house had its own bathrooms - with, more 
importantly, lockable doors - and the 
Peredhel practically insisted that he lose 
himself in hot, aromatic, watery oblivion for 
an hour or so.

At last the aches seemed appeased for the 
moment and the dull throbbing in his lower 
body somewhat lessened. Haldir cautiously 
emerged from the bathroom in clean and 
fitting clothes, feeling quite a bit happier 
than when he had entered. Elrohir was 
nowhere to be seen, but had told Haldir to 
come and find him in one of the nearby 
bedrooms, and so he made his slow, wary 
way towards it.

Stopping in the doorway, a timid smile 
lighted his pale features a little. Elrohir had 
obviously done his best to make the room 
seem as homely as possible. A fire had 
been lit in the small grate, crackling 
contentedly and warming the chilly 
chambers, and the atmosphere was 
brightened even further by candles in 
sconces to counteract the dim, grey light of 
the overcast day outside.

The sole bed in the room had also been 
turned down - Elrohir had obviously been 
vigilant in choosing a single room, albeit 
small - and not merely for effect, either, it 
would appear. The half-Elf was lying upon 
it, curled on his side and eyes blissfully 
vacant in slumber - but, although his face 
was serene and relaxed, he still looked 
tired. Haldir watched him for several 
moments, strange combinations of emotions 
conflicting inside him as he contemplatively 
took in the sight of the raven-haired figure 
asleep on the bed. 

Silently, so as not to wake Elrohir, Haldir 
closed the door and crossed to the 
armchair before the fire. Picking up the 
cushion that was laid upon the seat, he 
eased himself into it, trying not to awaken 
muscles that he knew would scream in 
protest, and then wrapped his arms around 
himself, hugging the cushion to his stomach. 
A small sigh escaped him as he glanced 
back over to the bed, upon which lay the 
only person in this world in whom he could 
even think of placing his trust. He did not 
know why, but Elrohir seemed to deserve 
his trust - and, despite the unwillingness of 
his head, his heart seemed to think that this 
was the case. After all, would he not 
already have baulked at being in this close a 
proximity to anyone else? 

Drawing his eyes away from the slumbering 
figure, Haldir allowed his silver head to fall 
backwards against the headrest, and a few 
tears began to trickle down his cheeks 
again. He no longer found any shame in 
crying - how could he, when he did it so 
often? - and besides, it was not as though 
there was anyone else to see it. The entire 
healing wing was currently empty, save 
himself and Elrohir, and in fact the entire 
house was quieter than he had ever 
imagined it to be when he had heard tales 
about it. He supposed that it was because 
the Elves were all gradually departing for 
Valinor - and yet, in a strange way, that did 
not sadden him, as he imagined it would 
have. Instead, he found that he relished the 
peace, punctuated only by the soft hiss of 
Elrohir's shallow breathing and the constant 
but irregular crackles of the flames.

And so, quietly, he cried. He cried for 
Elrohir, so gentle and kind, and obviously 
exhausted by all his troubles. He cried for 
Celeborn, brave, strong and 
compassionate, but ever flawed by his one, 
awful mistake. He cried for Elladan, and 
whatever had caused him to do what he 
did.

And he cried for himself. 

  
***************
Chapter Twenty-Five
***************

The Limit

Elrohir awoke some hours later, slightly 
annoyed with himself, for he had not 
intended to fall asleep in the first place. He 
reasoned that he had needed it - but then 
again, Haldir also needed him, and he was 
not usually so knowingly selfish.

Ah, Haldir...where was the younger Elf? 
Elrohir recalled instructing him to come and 
find him in the private room when he had 
finished bathing, and sleepily lifted his head, 
half expecting to find the room empty. He 
was, therefore, pleasantly surprised when 
he caught sight of the silver-haired Elf sitting 
in an armchair before the fire. Haldir was 
staring into the guttering flames - the fire 
was burning low, for the fuel was almost 
gone - but turned to look at Elrohir when he 
sensed movement to his side. Elrohir smiled 
lazily at him, and allowed his sleep-heavied 
head to fall back to the pillow.

'Sorry, I didn't...' The words tailed off into a 
gaping yawn. 'Mm. Didn't mean to fall 
asleep.'

'I didn't want to wake you,' said Haldir 
softly, still watching him. 'You looked like 
you needed it.'

Elrohir blinked and nodded, then passed his 
hands over his face and heaved himself up 
into a sitting position. 'Probably,' he 
concurred, swinging his legs over the bed 
so that he was sitting on the edge of it. 
'Didn't sleep much last night.'

Haldir's quiet question of 'Why?' hit him as 
he rose to his feet, and he bit his tongue in 
self-reprimand; this was the last person with 
whom he could have a causal conversation 
about Elladan. Sighing to himself, he 
crossed the room to the fire, where he 
picked up another log and slung it into the 
flames. Haldir flinched slightly at the noise, 
but otherwise seemed unfazed by the half-
Elf's closeness. Elrohir supposed that he 
should congratulate himself on that.

Settling down onto a fur set before the 
hearth, Elrohir folded his legs up to his chest 
and crossed his arms atop them. For a 
moment, he simply studied Haldir; the 
younger Elf had obviously been crying, and 
hard at that, for although the tearstains were 
dry, his eyes were still a little red. He was 
clutching a cushion to his stomach, as 
though covering his solar plexus, and 
somehow seemed enveloped by the chair. 
His emotions, though, were nigh on 
impossible to read.

Elrohir wondered if he could get away 
without answering the question. 'Did you 
enjoy your bath?' he tried. 'How do you 
feel?'

Haldir quietly regarded him back, mirroring 
the silent observation that the Peredhel had 
pressed upon him. His hazel eyes grew 
slowly lifeless as Elrohir watched, and in the 
end they darted away, accompanied by an 
answer.

'I would feel better if you answered my 
question.' The tone was dejected, but laden 
with conviction; Haldir sounded quite 
saddened by the fact that Elrohir had 
avoided his question. The elder Elf sighed.

'Are you sure you want to know?'

Haldir had dropped his head, but he 
glanced up at Elrohir from under his 
eyebrows, eyes hooded and darkly 
haunted. 'I know that it has something to do 
with Elladan,' he hissed back, and then gave 
a seemingly involuntary jerk of his head. 
'And it has clearly bothered you. But I need 
to know. I wouldn't be asking if I didn't.'

There was sense in his words, but Elrohir 
silently noted how Haldir had subtly 
replaced 'want' with 'need'. He wavered for 
a moment, unsure, and then looked up at 
the troubled Elf in the chair. Haldir caught 
his eye once more before he averted his 
gaze again, and then went to pull one leg up 
as though to curl it beneath him. It was a 
habitual action, but it obviously hurt, for he 
emitted a soft whimper and returned his 
foot to the floor, brow knitted in evident 
frustration. Elrohir moved, as if to help him 
- even though he knew not what he could 
do - but Haldir shied away. A choked sob 
escaped his lips, almost inaudible, and he 
made a violent gesture with his left hand to 
wave Elrohir away. Resigned, for he had 
clearly overstepped the limits within which 
Haldir felt comfortable, the half-Elf sank 
back to his previous position and took a 
deep breath.

'I discovered something about my brother 
last night,' he began, somewhat hesitantly, 
'and it hurt me. I cannot believe... I am still 
finding it hard to deal with.' He paused, and 
lifted his eyes to meet Haldir's, for he knew 
that those hazel orbs had settled on him 
again.

'What was it?' The quiet voice was 
emotionless, and yet seemed to encourage 
Elrohir to continue. Or perhaps it was that 
he so desired to talk to someone about this, 
someone who might, perhaps, understand. 

'He was abused as a child. By our tutor.' 
There was no reaction from the younger Elf; 
he simply sat motionless with his head 
inclined to one side ever so slightly, blank, 
accepting and ready. Almost empty... And 
yet, Elrohir suddenly found that the words 
were quite literally falling from his lips and 
that he was spilling his thoughts, his heart 
and soul, to the figure who did nothing but 
listen with grim and chilling determination.

'For forty years it happened, but I didn't 
notice...nobody did. That was how well he 
kept it hidden. He said he did it to protect 
me, and that Gaeldae threatened to move 
on to me if he told anyone. I don't think he 
would have, but... ai, it's too late to wonder 
about that now. He wept in my arms, and 
the pain...nothing has //ever// hurt me so 
much as in that instant, when he wept in my 
arms like a child and told me what he had 
kept hidden for centuries. But he never 
seemed once to regret it, or seemed angry 
or bitter about it. Because...' Here, Elrohir 
paused for a moment and sniffed, then 
brushed at his eyes with the sleeve of his 
shirt and took a deep breath. 'Because he 
truly believes that it was worth it - and what 
can I say to that? What am I supposed to 
//do//?'

Haldir regarded him for a moment, eyes 
impassive. 'Be grateful,' he said at length, 
his voice quiet and as blank as his eyes. 
'And do what you have to when the time 
comes.'

But Elrohir's face contorted at the cryptic 
comment, and he knocked his forehead 
against his knees a few times. 'I //am// 
grateful,' he sighed when he was finished, 
and buried his face in his arms. 'But I'm not 
worth it. How can I be worth my brother's 
suffering and loss of innocence?'

'You tell me,' came the soft response, but 
when Elrohir looked up, Haldir had looked 
away again. Regarding him with 
compassion, the twin stretched out an arm, 
and laid his hand gently on the younger Elf's 
knee. Haldir's head snapped round, his 
eyes wide and distrustful, but he relaxed 
upon realising once more that it was Elrohir. 
One, pale, trembling hand came down 
hesitantly to cover Elrohir's, but he averted 
his eyes to the flames as before, and said 
nothing more for the remainder of the day.

***

It was late evening, and Elladan stood 
awkwardly at the entrance of the healing 
wing. Elrohir had not been seen all day, 
since he had left to find Haldir, and although 
Elladan found a little comfort in the quiet, 
pensive company of his grandfather, he 
knew as well as Celeborn did that he really 
desired to be with his twin.

Much as he desired to go searching for 
Elrohir, however, he knew that it was not 
really feasible; Haldir would be with him, 
after all, and who knew how the Elfling 
would react to his presence? Then again, 
Haldir would have to go to sleep at some 
point, and that was why Celeborn had 
eventually suggested that Elladan search for 
his brother, after dinnertime when things 
were quietening down a little. But he could 
not seem to step past the threshold.

He was on the verge of deciding that it was 
useless, and that he may as well return to 
his own quarters, when the handle to one of 
the private rooms turned. He caught a few 
soft words on the air, though he could not 
distinguish them clearly, and then the door 
opened and Elrohir emerged. The younger 
twin looked drained; his features were 
pinched and his skin was rather wan, but his 
drawn expression morphed into a tired but 
genuine smile when he saw Elladan in the 
doorway.

"He won't come out, don't worry," he 
assured Elladan, moving towards a bed in 
the main ward and sinking gratefully down 
onto it. "You can come in."

Elladan managed a tight smile of his own, 
and shuffled over to join his brother. He too 
flopped onto the bed and sidled closer to 
Elrohir, resting his head on the flat upper 
abdomen and laying an arm across the 
slender waist. He felt Elrohir's hands in his 
hair, idly twiddling with the odd lock, 
before they settled for combing gently 
through the entire raven mane. The light 
scrape of fingernails over his scalp felt 
heavenly, and Elladan released a soft sigh of 
pleasure. Silence existed for several 
moments, though comfortable rather than 
awkward - in the end, however, both knew 
that the question was inevitable.

"How is he?"

Elladan felt the deep rise of Elrohir's chest, 
but the sigh never emerged. "He 
is...surprisingly lucid. Quiet, detached, but 
clear-headed...and still so innocent." 
Elladan closed his eyes and turned his face 
into his brother's stomach. One hand 
disentangled its fingers from his hair at this, 
and moved to stroke his cheek. "Believe it 
or not, though, I think he understands." 

The elder twin opened his eyes again, and 
turned his head so that he was gazing up 
into Elrohir's face. He knew that incredulity 
was scribbled over his features, his eyes 
round and mournful, but before he could 
voice his disbelief, Elrohir had spoken 
again. "He does - or at least, he's trying to. 
He asked about you, you know - I think he 
//needs// to understand."

Chocolate eyes widened. "You told him?"

Elrohir tilted his head. "I felt...compelled 
to," he said, after a moment's hesitation. 
Elladan continued to gaze up at him, and 
Elrohir shrugged. No more words passed 
between them, however, and in the end the 
elder twin shifted so that his head was 
settled more comfortably on his brother's 
stomach. Elrohir's fingers resumed their lazy 
self-amusement in Elladan's hair for a few 
moments, but were eventually laid to rest, 
one on the dark head and one falling to the 
bed. Elladan sighed, slightly more at ease 
than he had been and allowed himself to be 
lulled by his brother's shallow breathing, his 
eventually falling into the same pattern as he 
followed the other into slumber.

To be continued...



Title: Slave of Your Affliction 
Author: Ilye
Email: ilye_elf@yahoo.co.uk
Website: www.geocities.com/talesfromthevale 
Pairing: Haldir/Celeborn 
Rating: NC-17  
Disclaimer: Don't own, don't sue. Wow, how original was that... 


***************
Chapter Twenty-Six
***************

The Fire

It was well past midnight and pitch black in the healing wing, but Elladan 
was wide-awake. Elrohir still slept on the bed, in the same position as 
when he had fallen into slumber, and although the elder twin had found a 
measure of comfort as he curled into the warmth of his brother's body, 
sleep eluded him.

He had reluctantly left Elrohir's side about an hour ago and relocated 
himself, lest his fidgeting awaken his exhausted sibling. The younger twin 
had not stirred at the loss of Elladan's presence, and it was with a sad 
smile that Elladan laid a blanket over the supine form and retreated to the 
next bed.

This was why he was sitting in the dark with his legs crossed and his 
elbows resting upon them, hands supporting his chin. His eyes were 
glassy, for his musings carried him only a short distance from his present 
position, to the figure that he knew lay only next door. Haldir filled his 
head; Elladan simply could not believe what he had done. Yes, so he had 
been practically incoherent earlier, when he and Elrohir had found 
Celeborn...as they had found him, but it did not take a genius, or even a 
semi-lucid idiot, to work out that Haldir had become unbalanced. The 
mutterings between Elrohir and Celeborn, which, he assumed, he was not 
meant to hear, and his grandfather's later words to him, had only served to 
confirm that. Elrohir's assurances that Haldir was clear-headed, and that he 
understood, had done little to dispel his fears that he had driven the 
younger Elf mad.

An almost inaudible whimper left Elladan's lips despite himself, and he 
pressed the heels of his hands into his closed eyelids. He had done it; yes, 
he had. Overcome by some unknown urge, for dominance, for power, for 
pure, raw revenge, he had descended to the level of the insane, the 
vengeful, the bloodthirsty and the drunk. And he, of all people, should 
have known better, for he had, after all, known worse.

Elladan sighed; he needed a drink. Silently, he rose to his feet and made 
his way into the bathroom, not bothering with a candle for light, since his 
Elven blood meant that he could see sufficiently through the well-known 
darkness. Stopping at the sink, he ran a trickle of water, and scooped up 
dripping handfuls from which he could drink. The cold liquid tasted bland 
to him, but at least it quenched his thirst, and after splashing another few 
handfuls onto his face, he braced his hands on the edge of the sink and 
allowed his head to fall forwards. Water droplets fell from his face into the 
sink, his long, dark hair hanging down on either side of his head; it was 
because of this raven curtain that he failed to see the candlelight - until it 
was too late. 

A quiet, animalistic whine from behind him caught his attention, and the 
sound of breaking glass when the oil lamp hitting the floor made him start 
backwards. He whipped round, to see Haldir standing motionless behind 
him, quite literally statuesque. The silver head was held high, stiffly, lips 
slightly parted and quivering in fright, eyes wide open and...

The look in them made Elladan forget everything around him, including 
the lamp that had stopped next to the wooden leg of a bench. The 
expression on Haldir's face may have been one of terror, but that in his 
eyes spoke of astuteness, rancour and resentment, which made it all the 
more chilling. The flickering light accentuated the younger Elf's face from 
below, low-lighting chin, cheek hollows and eye sockets, and offsetting 
the golden flecks around the dilated pupils in a horribly eerie way. 

Then Haldir cocked his head, sharply and suddenly like a wild animal that 
had caught a scent. Elladan gulped, and Haldir licked his lips.

"Hello," he drawled smoothly, and a strange smile spread across his face. 
"And how might you be this evening?" Elladan took a wary, involuntary 
step backwards, but said nothing. Haldir arched an eyebrow, golden-red in 
firelight.

"No answer, Elladan? My, how impolite. Surely you were brought up 
better than that?"

"I..." Elladan wavered, not even noticing that Haldir was speaking 
Sindarin as fluently as any other Elf. He already knew where this 
conversation was heading, but managed to force out a few words 
nevertheless. "I am...fine, thank you..."

"Oh, what a coincidence! I am fine as well!" Haldir released a low laugh, 
and Elladan took another step back. There was silence for a moment, as 
Haldir seemed to consider something, and then the silver head was slowly 
inclined in the other direction.

"Do you know, that is the first time you have been civil to me." This time, 
Haldir's voice was infinitely cooler than before, and there was an almost 
aggressive set to his jaw that Elladan had never seen in him before. "Mind 
you," these words were accompanied by a casual flick of fingers, "you had 
an excuse, did you not?" Elladan timidly opened his mouth to interject, but 
Haldir continued speaking as though the twin were mute. 

"Of course, you did not know how it felt to be treated like a simple 
possession, did you?" Haldir took a step closer to Elladan, who took 
another back. "You had never been on the receiving end of a whim, nor 
made to feel subservient, desperate for someone to trust." Another step. 
"You //never// knew what it felt like to be alone, wishing that //someone// 
out there understood what was happening, and might somehow make 
things better." The sarcastic words were this time accompanied by a sneer, 
a curl of the top lip, but Elladan could not back away any further, for the 
wall was flush to his back. The one thing on which he could focus was the 
pair of eyes before him, which seemed to glow in the pale face. The gold 
flecks seemed like the sparks of madness, smouldering amidst the green, 
glinting and flashing as though illuminated, somehow. And he was hot, 
but why, he knew not, and Haldir was a mere step away, now, taunting, 
tormenting, eyes flashing in his face and utterly, utterly hypnotic...

"//You// should have been the one person who understood, the //one 
person// who could have sympathised, //the one person I could have 
turned to.// But instead, you treat me as an object, you actually 
//encouraged him// to use - nay, to abuse me. And I bet it felt good, didn't 
it?"

Elladan covered his ears with his hands, shaking his head vehemently. His 
eyes were wide, leaking tears and scared, but still he could not remove 
them from the blazing orbs before him, now almost wreathed in flame. 
"Noooo..." he moaned, keening and desperate. But Haldir laughed, the 
sound ending on a cough, before sneering again.

"Yes, it did - you can admit it. I know already. It does feel good, doesn't it, 
to have that power? Power that someone once had over you, and now - 
ha!" He clapped his hands together delightedly, "Now the roles are 
reversed, you could say. Such a rush, to dominate for once, and my, it 
//does// feel good!"

Now, with nowhere to go, Elladan sank down to the floor. He could still 
hear Haldir's voice through his hands, those cool, smooth, manic tones, 
and for the first time he cursed his Elven hearing. Still trying to back away 
from the younger Elf, whose silver hair seemed aflame as he glowed, he 
curled himself into a ball in the corner with his hands still over his ears 
and his gaze still held in thrall by those dancing, frenzied orbs. All of his 
senses had long ago been honed down to nothing more than those eyes, 
and that voice that pierced everything, pierced flesh, pierced time. 
Everything else had faded to a blurry, hotly coloured background

"Well, Elladan, it would appear that I owe you an apology; all this time, 
when I have been hating and fearing you, I should have been thanking 
you. Without you I would never have felt this rush, and never have had the 
power that I do now. I owe it to you, dear boy - this is all down to you."

Elladan moaned again; Haldir was right, this //was// all down to him. This 
was his fault, this was his fault, this was his fault...

And in that moment, he found the strength to tear his gaze from those 
hypnotic eyes, ablaze and hysterical. It took every shred of will in his 
body to do so, but he did...and as he did, the heat increased, and it seemed 
that Haldir burst into a mass of brilliant, searing colour, severe and 
shattering. On instinct, Elladan buried his face in his arms and cowered 
against the wall. He could not look up, could not look up to see what he 
had done...what //had// he done? What had he done to Haldir?

So still he cowered, trembling inside the safety of the stone wall and the 
cover of his arms. He only looked up, eyes wild, stinging and terrified, 
when a strong hand seized his wrist and quite literally dragged him to his 
feet. There was that Elf before him, with hair of flame and silver - only 
this time Elladan could not see his eyes. The other Elf's mouth was 
moving, speaking urgently to him, but it all just seemed like a roar to him, 
a hot, bright, blurry roar. Elladan was finding it difficult to breathe, now, 
and although he struggled and tried to break away from the firm hold on 
his wrist, the other's strength exceeded his own. 

Crying, sobbing, pleading and kicking, Elladan found that he was being 
hauled away. Finally, in desperation, for he //had// to get away, //couldn't// 
let Haldir do this to him, he flexed his arm and brought his hand up to his 
mouth, where he sank his teeth into the fleshy part just below the thumb. 
A hiss of pain sounded, upon which he absentmindedly congratulated 
himself, but then a force about his face left him reeling, and suddenly it all 
fell away.

"ELLADAN!" //Grandfather...that's grandfather...// Full of dread, he 
looked up, and found that it was his grandfather standing over him. With a 
low wail, Elladan collapsed to his knees, and brought his arms up around 
his head. But Celeborn only dropped to his knees beside his distraught 
grandson, and placed his hands on his shoulders.

"Elladan, get a grip! There's a fire!" //A fire?//  "Tell me, where is 
Elrohir?" 

Elladan thought for a moment, but did not seem able to put those thoughts 
into words; it was only when he was gently shaken that he managed to 
splutter and cough that Elrohir had been asleep in the ward. It seemed to 
work, for the hands were taken from his shoulders. "Stay here," came the 
urgent words in his ear. And so he did.

~~~

Confident that Elladan would not go anywhere, Celeborn abandoned him 
in the corridor and dashed back into the healing wing. The main ward was 
now filled with smoke, making the room hazy and difficult to see into, but 
Celeborn was certain that there was no one in there. With a curse, he tried 
the private rooms off from the main ward, but they too produced no sign 
of the younger twin, and so Celeborn made his way back to the blazing 
bathroom.

It was a few hundred steps to this bathroom from the ward, and Celeborn 
could hear the voices of the servants he had alerted. He kept glancing 
about him, looking into any rooms that he chanced to pass on the way, but 
still there was no Elrohir - and the Valar only knew what had happened to 
Haldir. 

Finally reaching the bathroom, he stood in the doorway for a moment, 
shielding his eyes with the sleeve of his sleeping robe. The Elves working 
on dousing the fire had it just about under control, and hisses could be 
heard as wet towels and containers of water were sluiced onto the 
remaining flames. There were shards of glass littering the floor, where it 
would appear that several bottle of surgical alcohol had exploded, and the 
culprit bench was little more than a charred mass and glowing iron 
fittings. Celeborn sighed, for Elrohir was not in there, either, and with a 
quick word to ensure that the working Elves were uninjured and could 
cope, turned away from the door.

His smoke-stung eyes widened upon seeing the shadowy figures a short 
way ahead of him, which he had obviously been too preoccupied to notice 
before, and he hurried forwards to offer help. One slender form was 
struggling towards the main doors, laden with the weight of another in his 
arms; Celeborn swallowed the lump in his throat that formed upon 
realising that it was Haldir carrying Elrohir.

Striding up alongside the younger Elf, he made eye contact with Haldir, 
who relinquished Elrohir's body into Celeborn's stronger arms without a 
word. Celeborn carried his grandson easily from the darkened, smoky 
area, towards where he had left Elladan, and laid the still figure on the 
ground in the nearest, most convenient place. To his total relief, Elrohir 
stirred and coughed, then rolled onto his side and took several deep gulps 
of the fresher air. Celeborn rubbed his back soothingly, well aware of 
Haldir standing silently against the wall a short distance away, and of 
Elladan, crumpled against the opposite wall and watching with horrified 
eyes.

At length, Elrohir took and released his last gulping breath, and then 
slowly opened his eyes as his breathing returned to a more normal rhythm, 
though interspersed with the occasional cough still. He took in each one of 
the watching figures in turn, and then elbowed himself up into a sitting 
position. Celeborn made to help him, but he refused the offer with a 
haggard half-smile and propped himself against the wall.

"I am fine," he assured them all, though his voice sounded rather sore and 
croaky. Elladan emitted a soft, choked sob at this, and scrambled over to 
his brother. Elrohir looked at him in concern as his trembling twin nestled 
into his side, laying an arm around Elladan's shoulder and looking 
meaningfully at his grandfather. Celeborn let his eyes wander over to 
Haldir, but said nothing, and slowly Elrohir looked up to the pale figure.

Haldir's anxious, red, watery eyes were fixed upon him and his brow was 
slightly creased. A rivulet of blood trickled from his temple and down his 
cheek, and although there was a maelstrom of emotions playing across his 
face, the only one which Elrohir could discern was confusion. The 
younger twin felt his own brow crease in concern.

'Are you alright, Haldir? You are bleeding.'

Haldir absently dabbed at the blood with one finger on a shaking hand, 
regarded it for a moment, and then slowly tilted his head. 'What...what h-
happened?'

Elladan whimpered suddenly, and buried deeper into Elrohir's side; the 
younger twin's eyebrows shot up, and he looked to Celeborn for help. The 
elder Elf sighed.

'There was a fire in the bathroom... I have no idea how it started. I found 
you and Elladan in there - you took one look at me and ran away, and 
Elladan was beside himself.' At this, Celeborn spared a glance for his 
eldest grandson, who had his eyes closed and his head resting on Elrohir's 
shoulder. He sighed. 'I dragged him out and went back for you two, but 
you weren't there. In the end I found you carrying Elrohir out.'

Haldir looked blank. 'I...I don't r-remember any of th-that,' he stammered. 
He was visibly shaking, now, probably from the shock, and his face was 
ashen beneath the blood and smears of soot. Elrohir looked at him sadly.

'What was the last thing that you do remember?' he asked gently. Haldir 
shook his head, and wound his arms around his waist.

'J-just going in-nto the b-bathroom...and th-then you were kn-neeling over 
Elroh-hir out h-here,' he sniffed. The hazel eyes closed pitifully, and 
Elrohir shared a knowing look with his grandfather.

"Elladan?" Celeborn's focus was now on the elder twin. "What can you 
remember?"

Chocolate eyes opened warily and blinked, but Elladan shook his head and 
said nothing. Elrohir stroked his cheek gently. "This can wait until 
morning," he said firmly, followed by a deep cough that resounded from 
deep in his chest. He winced and groaned, allowing his head to fall briefly 
back against the wall. "I need something to drink."

"You need to go to bed," stated Celeborn. His tone left no room for 
argument, but Elrohir looked as though he thought that bed was a very 
good idea and did not protest when Celeborn gently nudged Elladan aside 
and pulled both twins to their feet. The elder Elf wrapped an arm around 
each of their waists, encouraging them down the corridor, and then turned 
to check that Haldir was following them. To his dismay, he discovered 
that the Elfling had disappeared //again// - but, occupied with a double 
armful of distressed and shaky twin, he decided that he would have to 
search for Haldir later. Celeborn knew by now that he could take care of 
himself if the need really arose.

***************
Chapter Twenty-Seven
***************

The End

***************
Chapter Twenty-Seven
***************

The End

Círdan came back. Grandfather left a few weeks ago, and took Haldir with 
him. Imladris seems empty now, with just the two of us - the remainder of 
the staff have left, too. It was strange to start with, but you get used to it.

I stand now on the terrace at the rear of the house, the one which 
overlooks the forest. Elladan is around somewhere, but I'm not sure where. 
This always was my favourite spot; I used to sit here as a child and talk to 
the trees. They were the best listeners, and would reply with great wisdom. 
Now, though, there is no answer. Just my voice.

I may be barefoot, but winter is approaching and it's cold out here. We feel 
the temperature changes more acutely these days – Elladan feels it more 
than I do, but I still shiver as a breeze blows.

If I must admit the truth, I would have to say that I would like to have 
gone with grandfather. He stayed as our last resort, but I couldn't have 
sailed West after learning what I have in this past month. Elladan would 
not have been able to take it; there is no longer any joy for him in an 
immortal life, and the pain of seeing everyone again after admitting his 
abuse would have consumed him. 

We both hope that Haldir will heal in Valinor. That poor child...even now, 
I ache for him. It seemed that his personality split, in the end, divided into 
the sweet, timid, gentle side that we knew, and this angry, vengeful, 
uncontrolled persona that emerged after the final rape. His quiet side knew 
nothing of the other personality; he could remember nothing that happened 
when he "switched", as we came to call it. He described it as a blackout, 
and yet when the second side appeared, he seemed to know everything. I 
myself was never on the receiving end of his wrath, but I saw him turn on 
grandfather several more times before they left, and once on Elladan. It 
seemed to happen when he felt intimidated. Fortunately, grandfather 
became more adept at handling the situations, and little was said to 
Elladan. That was just as well, for he was beside himself after the fire. I 
never did find out what Haldir said to him, but I have a pretty good idea.

Elladan blames himself; I suppose he has good reason to. I can understand 
how hard it was for him when Haldir first arrived. I tell him that, but he 
still hates himself for his behaviour and what he did. I have never been in 
that situation, and it's difficult, but I do my best. And it's getting easier; it 
was hardest in the few days after the fire, when grandfather was just 
getting used to the facts. Elladan was still distraught, and Haldir was silent 
and detached. There was precious little that I could do to alleviate their 
troubles - it's ironic, if you think about it. All of them were linked by the 
fact that they had both raped and been raped, and yet the only one in 
whom they could confide was me, who had experienced neither. 

Soft footsteps behind me let me know that Elladan has joined me on the 
terrace. I smile as warm arms slip around my waist and that identical body 
presses up behind my own.

"Are you talking to the trees again?" he asks, voice smooth and low and 
breath hot on the cold tip of my ear. I cannot contain the sigh, pleasure 
intermingled with regret, that leaves my lips.

"Yes, but we are mortal now. They no longer listen."

I can feel my own smile mirrored on his face, only sadder, as he rests his 
head on my shoulder and nuzzles my neck. I am slightly taken aback when 
he hisses quietly.

"You are cold," he admonishes, but does not lift his head. Instead, he 
removes his arms from my waist and enfolds them around my shoulders, 
and I feel that I am now wrapped in the cloak that he is wearing. I cover 
his hands with mine, and lean back gratefully into his body; I feel warmer 
already.

There is silence for a moment as he presses his cheek to mine and follows 
my gaze into the forest. I am not regarding anything in particular, but 
together we stare at the trees, until he says, "Wouldn't you rather come 
inside?" 

I shake my head, for I am happy out here, and Elladan seems appeased by 
that. I was enjoying the solitude and space to think, but now that he is 
here, holding me, I feel more contented. He is happy, I can tell. It radiates 
from him like the glow from Ithil, and I have never seen him more at 
peace than he is now. He deserves this; he wants to be here. I fancy that, at 
times, he can even see blood on his hands - imagine a forever with the 
weight of such rape and the insanity it caused on your conscience. He 
wants to be mortal. 

There was no way I could refuse him that, for it's his turn to be happy. He 
gave up a part of his soul in return for my childhood, and I love him so 
much. Much as I would love to see Ada and Nana again, and grandmother 
and Glorfindel and Erestor and all the others, they cannot hold a 
proverbial candle to Elladan in my heart. He is the other half of my soul - 
so really, when he gave up that part of his soul, it was a part of my soul, 
too. A part of //us//.

One hand comes up to gently stroke my cheek - his fingers are cold - and 
he peers round into my face. "You are brooding again," he informs me, 
and I look round to catch his eye.

"A habit of Ada's that I picked up," I jest lightly, not realising the impact 
that such an idle comment could have. Elladan smiles weakly, but I can 
see the spark of pain in his eyes and I know that I've touched a nerve. He 
will never be able to forget the fact that Ada didn't notice, even though he 
hid it. I do not apologise, for it is useless, but he knows that I didn't mean 
it and presses his cheek to mine as before. And we stand in silence again. 

"Arwen will have her child soon," I say at length, my tone as thoughtful as 
my disposition. A genuine smile crosses Elladan's face.

"A little over a month," he agrees. "We shall have to visit her."

"I had every intention of it," I tell him. "I would love to see Gondor 
again."

He grins wider and digs a finger gently into my side. "Not to mention our 
sister and brother," he teases me. I squirm away from the digit and he 
relents, squeezing me closer to him instead as we fall silent again.

I suppress another sigh. Arwen was the other reason why we stayed, 
though I am certain that, had we truly wished to go, she would not have 
allowed us to do otherwise on her account. She has never questioned our 
reasons for staying, and Elladan and I have both agreed not to tell her the 
truth. Elladan thinks it would hurt her, which she does not deserve - and he 
is right. I cannot see any point in telling her, especially since it would hurt 
him in the process. It was hard enough for him to tell me.

Arwen's love for Estel grows with each passing day - I can sense it in the 
letters she sends us, which I read with relish. I am glad that she has found 
such joy in him, and that the strength of their love could overcome the 
obstacles that they faced. Love can only triumph after a fight - and I would 
know, I suppose. Love kept //me// here, too, the love for that around which 
my everything revolves. A blood-deep connection, one fëa divided, and a 
spiritual link that only now can I truly understand.

Closing my eyes, I turn in Elladan's embrace and allow my arms to slip 
about his waist, my head to sink to his shoulder. If he is surprised, he does 
not show it, and holds me tight with one arm around my shoulders and the 
other around my hips. I am again wrapped in the cloak, and the warmth 
that it brings in conjunction with that of his body is a pleasant contrast to 
the wind that tickles my numb toes. The hint of a smile touches my lips 
when he presses a tender kiss to my upper eyelid, my upturned cheek, and 
finally to the corner of my mouth. I love him. This is what made me stay.

The sea calls to me, even now; my body feels weary already. Time can 
touch us...we have perhaps eighty years left. That is nothing to an Elf. 

It was hard to see grandfather go, and I would love to help Haldir find 
some sort of stability. I would love to see our family again...to see Aman, 
even once. I could still have found joy in an immortal life, found peace in 
the lands of healing, over the Sea. But Elladan could not. Even though he 
knows it deep down, I cannot tell him this. It would break his heart.

I am mortal now, and the trees will not listen to me when I speak to them. 
Our home is empty, save the two of us - it feels isolated, and I still haven't 
become used to the way that our footsteps alone echo from the walls. And 
yet I feel complete, when he holds me like this and warms me from the 
inside. When he curls into me at night, and then things don't seem quite so 
blank and bleak and bare. When I hear footsteps in the corridor, and I 
know that I'm not as alone as I feel because he's here.

I feel complete, despite that piece of us that he lost. I know now what he 
meant when he said that it was worth it.

 The End
June '02 - April '03

The thanks, as always: 
To Caz, for the beta job, which she got chucked into the middle of. It's 
praise indeed when my beta nags me for more work! 
To Morgana, for all the input over the past few months. It's been fantastic, 
and I know that, without it, half of the later events in this fic might not 
have happened. 
To Maybe, because I believe that those detailed analyses really did help! 
To you guys, for your fantastic support and awesome feedback. It's truly 
humbling, and I hope you enjoyed reading it. 
And to Elen. I said I would finish it before your next birthday, and I did. 
Everything's okay in the end, and if it's not the okay, it's not the end. I love 
you.