Title: ‘To Rescue an Elf’ Part 4/25 Author: Inwë Sáralondë Email: mb2002ldgd@yahoo.com.au Pairing(s): Lothvaen/Haldir Rating: PG Summary: Celeborn puts forward a proposition to Lothvaen. Genre: Romance Beta(s): Aglarien Warnings: None Word count: 665 Disclaimer: The characters portrayed are the property of J.R.R. Tolkien. No profit or such is made from this. Authors Note: The prompts used were: 17 Aug 2007 – ‘realm’; 1 Nov 2007 – ‘compose’ *********************** The next morning found Lothvaen making his way to Celeborn in one of his newly shortened robes. He had to admit that it was so much easier now that he did not have to worry so much about tripping over them, and knew that he should have it done a long time ago. “Maer aur, híren,” Lothvaen said formally as he stepped inside Celeborn’s study. Celeborn looked up briefly. “Maer aur, Lothvaen.” His gaze travelled down, and his eyebrows rose slightly as he took in the shorter robe. “I see you managed to visit the seamstress after all.” “Híren?” Celeborn’s lips twitched. “I was fully prepared for you to have forgotten getting your robes shortened, seeing that a certain Marchwarden returned from the borders yesterday. I have no doubt that your mind may have been on…other things,” he clarified, and watched in amusement as the scribe’s face flushed. “Aye, híren,” Lothvaen said, feeling a little mortified. “Haldir did return, but I made sure that I brought at least some of my robes to the seamstress to shorten before…ummm…” “Indeed,” Celeborn said dryly, giving up trying to hide his smile. “I must inform you, however, that Haldir will need to return to the borders within the next few days, so I suggest you make full use of your time together.” Lothvaen’s eyes widened. “So soon?” he asked, dismayed. “The last foray into our woods by orcs has left a number of our Geledhil injured, which means we need every warrior available to man the borders against any further incursions,” Celeborn explained, his mien now sober. Lothvaen remained silent for a moment. “I understand,” he said finally, his voice quiet. “But that does not make it easy for me, for I worry.” Celeborn nodded. “As do I, as does the Lady Galadriel. Dark times approach, Lothvaen. The signs are there; now it is only a matter of time before things come to a head.” The scribe swallowed. “What is going to happen, híren?” A brief smile appeared on Celeborn’s face. “Even the Lady Galadriel is not certain, Lothvaen. But it does mean that we will need to be even more vigilant.” He sat back in his chair and contemplated the younger elf before him, his gaze assessing. “Have you ever visited any human settlements, Lothvaen?” Startled by the sudden change in subject, Lothvaen could only shake his head. Celeborn pursed his lips and looked at some parchments on his desk before returning his gaze to his scribe. “I have a trade agreement that will need to be delivered to a human settlement seven leagues from our realm. I would like to include you with the party that will deliver it.” “Me?” Lothvaen squeaked, dumbfounded. “Aye. You will be accompanying Berendirith and two Geledhil. I wish I could spare more, but Berendirith at least has some skills with a sword.” Celeborn paused for a moment, his gaze assessing. “Have you had any weapons training, Lothvaen?” Lothvaen swallowed. “No, híren. There was never any need for me to learn.” “I see.” Once again Celeborn paused for a moment, obviously thinking, and Lothvaen waited with trepidation. “This will need to be rectified, but it can wait until your return. I will at least ensure that you are armed with a knife. That is, of course, if you wish to go?” “Go? Of course, híren! I am honoured that…” Lothvaen babbled excitedly. Celeborn quickly raised his hand. “Enough, Lothvaen.” Amusement laced his voice. “I believe that Berendirith has some tasks for you in the library. I suggest you go and see him forthwith.” “Certainly, híren! Hannon le, híren!” Lothvaen was almost dancing on the spot, a huge smile on his face until he caught the raised eyebrow of Celeborn in front of him, and he made an effort to compose himself, with little avail. “Yes, the library. Tasks. Berendirith. I shall go there directly!” Still smiling, Lothvaen fled Celeborn’s study, leaving the lord wondering if he had made the right decision. ************************ Elvish translations: hannon le – thank you híren – my lord maer aur – good morning 7 leagues = 20.99 miles or 33.7801 kilometres Berendirith is taken from the Council of Elrond website. *~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~* Title: ‘To Rescue an Elf’ Part 5/25 Author: Inwë Sáralondë Email: mb2002ldgd@yahoo.com.au Pairing(s): Lothvaen/Haldir Rating: PG Summary: Haldir is worried. Genre: Romance Beta(s): Aglarien Warnings: None Word count: 577 Disclaimer: The characters portrayed are the property of J.R.R. Tolkien. No profit or such is made from this. Authors Note: The prompts used were: 9 Aug 2006 – ‘voyage’ *********************** Sated, Lothvaen lay on the bed, a satisfied smile on his lips. Haldir eyed his lover, feeling more than a little pleased with himself. His fingers gently touched the red marks around Lothvaen’s wrists where the Galadhel had tied him to the bed, a smile on his lips. His eyes travelled down the scribe’s body, memorising every possible detail so they could sustain him when he was once more at the borders. “What are you thinking of?” Lothvaen murmured sleepily, his eyes half-closed. “Thinking of how much I love you, and will miss you when I am on patrol.” “And I will miss you too – more than you will ever know.” Lothvaen’s eyes were now wide open and staring at Haldir, his love for the Marchwarden shining clearly. “I am a little worried about your visiting the human settlement,” Haldir confessed as he lay down next to Lothvaen. “Why?” the scribe wanted to know. “We are only delivering a trade agreement. It is not as if I am taking a voyage across the sea.” “I know,” Haldir said quietly. “But it will be your first visit.” Lothvaen was puzzled. “What does that have anything to do with it?” he asked. “Do you not trust mortals?” “I find that they sometimes have…an unhealthy fascination with elves, pen-velui. Please, just be careful.” Lothvaen smiled. “Of course I will be careful. We will only be staying one night at an inn which Berendirith assures me is reputable – well, as reputable as it could possibly be, with mortals running it, according to him – and returning the next morning. I may even see you at the borders when we return.” “I will make sure that I see *you*, pen-velui. The only way I will know you are safe is if I see you with my own eyes.” Lothvaen snuggled up against Haldir, smiling. “I will be perfectly safe, Haldir. Berendirith is able to use a sword, and he told me we are being accompanied by your brother Rúmil and another Galadhel called Caegaran.” Haldir reared up. “Caegaran?” “Aye,” Lothvaen said, slightly puzzled by his lover’s reaction. “Be very careful with Caegaran, Lothvaen,” Haldir said seriously. “He is a competent warrior, but I do not trust him. Do not let him influence you in any way.” “I do not understand, Haldir. What do you mean?” Haldir shook his head. “In many ways you are still an innocent, pen- velui – far too innocent for the likes of Caegaran, for numerous stories abound about his particular liking for the young and the innocent though, truthfully, none of them have been truly substantiated. Yet I am wary of him, and careful with whom he is placed with. So promise me that you will stay clear of him.” Silently Lothvaen contemplated the serious expression on his lover’s face. “I promise,” he said finally. “But I shall have your brother looking out for me.” “A small consolation,” Haldir said. “Nevertheless, I shall speak to Rúmil before I return to the borders.” The Marchwarden rose from the bed. “Now up, you sluggard, for we will need to change the bedding before we leave, as we can not leave them in the state they are in.” “Sluggard!” Lothvaen yelped. “I have you know I work very hard in everything I do!” Haldir’s lips curved into a smile. “Oh, I can certainly attest to that,” he said. “In fact, one can safely say that in some things you work very *hard* indeed…” ************************ Elvish translations: pen-velui – lovely one *~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~* Title: ‘To Rescue an Elf’ Part 6/25 Author: Inwë Sáralondë Email: mb2002ldgd@yahoo.com.au Pairing(s): Lothvaen/Haldir Rating: PG Summary: The elven party arrives at the human settlement. Genre: Romance Beta(s): Aglarien Warnings: None Word count: 753 Disclaimer: The characters portrayed are the property of J.R.R. Tolkien. No profit or such is made from this. Authors Note: The prompts used were: 25 Oct 2007 – ‘fail’; 15 Nov 2007 – ‘intelligent’ *********************** The trip to the human settlement proved to be uneventful. Lothvaen, though mindful of Haldir’s feelings about Caegaran, found himself wondering why. The Galadhel was intelligent, was proving to be very polite, and seemed to be interested in what Lothvaen had to say. But all the while the scribe was aware of the careful scrutiny of Rúmil and Berendirith, as if they wanted to make sure conversation was all that occurred between himself and the Galadhel. Caegaran, on the other hand, was silently wondering to himself how in all of Middle-earth Haldir could put up with the inane prattling of the scribe. He was finding it more and more difficult to not let his boredom show, and he almost breathed a sigh of relief when the human settlement came into view. Nor did he fail to be aware of the scrutiny that he was being subjected to by Celeborn’s senior advisor and Haldir’s brother. He very nearly laughed. As if he was going to do anything with the scribe. No, he was happy to bide his time. Despite the ridiculous conversation coming from Lothvaen, it did not dampen his desire to bed the dark-haired elf. He would just need to watch and listen carefully for the time when Haldir grew tired of Lothvaen; something which he was now even more certain was going to happen. The arrival of the elves in the settlement generated the usual interest, with many young children who had never seen an elf before in their short lives staring with wide eyes as the beautiful and almost exotic creatures rode past them. Berendirith gave a snort of derision. “It happens every time we come here,” he complained. His gaze turned to Lothvaen. “Make sure you do not wander off, Lothvaen. We need to remain together at all times. It would be folly for any of us should we become separated.” “Yes, Berendirith,” Lothvaen said dutifully. He had already been told this a number of times by Celeborn’s senior advisor during their journey, but felt it wiser not to mention the fact. No, it was better to agree, and then continue to take in the new sights and sounds around him. As the small party from Lothlórien continued their way to the inn, they were oblivious to a pair of eyes that gazed at the elves with more than just casual interest. With a smirk, the man moved into the shadows and made his way to his comrade to tell him of his discovery. The inn was found with little difficulty, and the horses passed over to the ostlers who took them into the stables. Berendirith surveyed the building sourly. “In all the time that I have been coming here, there have been no improvements made. It gets shabbier and shabbier. But it is at least still marginally better than the other inn.” Lothvaen, however, saw things with different eyes. Everything was a novelty to him, and he saw the inn as quaint and charming, but refrained from saying so to Berendirith. One thing he had learned quickly since his arrival in Lothlórien was that Celeborn’s senior advisor found fault in virtually everything, Lothvaen included. Berendirith, however, reminded Lothvaen a lot of Erestor, so found no offence in some of the barbed comments the senior advisor threw his way. Caegaran watched as Lothvaen surveyed everything around him, a look of childish pleasure on the scribe’s face, and inwardly sneered. How the dark-haired elf could find anything so interesting amongst all this…rabble, for want of a better word, the Galadhel had no idea. Rúmil, however, seemed prepared to indulge Lothvaen. ‘Probably because the little whelp is his brother’s lover,’ Caegaran thought. Berendirith’s slightly strident voice interrupted the other elves’ musings. “The burgher who acts as mayor of this town is waiting for us inside, so let us get this treaty negotiation out of the way. If it were not for the fact that it is already late in the afternoon, I would suggest that we leave immediately afterwards. As it is, we will have to spend the night here. If we are lucky, there may not be any fleas inside the bedding.” He turned and began to walk towards the building. Lothvaen merely smiled, while the two Geledhil surreptitiously rolled their eyes. It was a refrain they had heard many times before, and had learned over time to ignore it. Berendirith turned around. “Well, are you coming or not?” he barked out, and the remaining three elves scurried along behind him. ************************ Burgher – a member of the middle class; a prosperous solid citizen *~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*