Title: My Heart's Desire: Part 2 – If You Go Away. 
Author: Ryo 
Author's Email: izumrud4u@yahoo.com 
Pairings: Haldir/Gidor, Glorfindel/Legolas 
Rating: NC-17 
Summary: Sometimes to find love is easier than to keep it safe. Sequel to "To Wait For 
You".
   

Chapter 9. A Thunderstorm.



Days became weeks and then it was the day of Summer Solstice. The inhabitants of Imladris
always looked forward to it for each year Lord Elrond gave a magnificent ball to
celebrate the occasion.

Haldir and Gildor entered the Hall of Fire together to keep up appearances but their
pretence of concord could fool no one: the ups and downs of their relationship had become
a favourite topic for gossip in Imladris.

Haldir was swiftly swept from Gildor's side onto the dancing floor. Ellith and ellyn,
eager to dance with the Galadhel, were no longer wary of Gildor's displeasure for the
Vanya did not seem to mind it too much. Haldir refused no invitation, hoping in secret
that Gildor would come and claim him, driven if not by love then at least by jealousy.
Gildor watched his lover for some time, expecting him to return and to ask *him* for a
dance. But when he saw that Haldir had no intention of doing just that, he realized that
he once again would have to be the understanding one and to make the first step. He felt
like he had to beg for Haldir's attention and his pride rebelled against it. But still,
when the current tune stopped, he made his way to his wayward lover who was talking with
the girl he had just danced with.

"Will you not dance with *me*, Silfael?" Gildor asked, trying to sound nonchalant.

Haldir smirked to himself: his strategy seemed to be working. He decided to add fuel to
the fire.

"I'm afraid I cannot. I have promised this dance to Celebrin," he announced, taking the
girl's hand.

Celebrin shot him a surprised glance but said nothing. Haldir's words were like a slap in
the face for Gildor but he hated public scenes so he preserved his composure.

"Fine," he said coolly. "Then *you* come search for *me* if you ever find time for me."

He turned on his heel and stalked away. Haldir watched him go with a little satisfied
smile on his lips. Then he looked at Celebrin. "Shall we?"

She followed him to the dancing floor, wondering if she might yet have a chance with the
handsome Galadhel.

Gildor remained calm and unperturbed on the surface but he was seething inside. He knew,
just knew that Haldir would not be joining him any time soon but in no way was he going
to repeat his invitation. He moved around the Hall, talking, smiling and drinking, and
paid no heed to where Haldir was and with whom. Glorfindel caught Gildor by the arm when
he was passing him for the third time and pulled him to a bench by the window.

"Let us sit down here for a while," he told him. "My head is already spinning from
watching you move in ceaseless circles."

They shared some wine and watched the revelry around them in comfortable silence and then
Glorfindel suddenly asked, "Why do you not tell him you want to bind yourself to him?"

Gildor looked at him in shock. "Are you crazy? He will laugh in my face!"

"But… "

"I am not going to make a bigger fool of myself than I have already done. End of
discussion."

Gildor stood up and resumed his wandering about the Hall, too restless to stay in one
place for long. He decided he would talk to Haldir when they returned to their rooms.
They needed to talk. They had to talk. Oh, not about bonding like Glorfindel had
suggested. No, Gildor knew he had to finally voice his grievances, his hurt and
resentment and to hear what Haldir had to say to it. Perhaps they still could sort it out
and put things right. Perhaps it was still not too late. Having come to this decision,
Gildor felt better at once and was even able to enjoy the rest of the evening.

When he deemed time late enough to call it a night, he looked around for Haldir but could
not spot him anywhere. He went searching for him and eventually found him on a small
terrace outside the Hall of Fire. Haldir was not alone. Gildor stopped abruptly in the
arched doorway, watching the scene that was unfolding in front of him.

Haldir was leaning casually against the banisters, smiling down at Celebrin in a lazy
predatory way. He was peeling an apple with a small penknife, taking off the skin in one
long spiral. The elleth watched, mesmerized, as his slender fingers caressed the fruit,
turning it round and round. She imagined these skillful fingers touch her skin and
immediately her bare arms were covered with goose bumps. Haldir gave her a knowing glance
from under his long lashes and squeezed the apple like he could squeeze a woman's breast
in his hand. Sweet juice ran down his fingers and he licked at them unhurriedly, in the
meantime allowing his eyes to slide leisurely from Celebrin's parted lips down her throat
to the alluring mounds of flesh, revealed by the low neck of her gown. The thin fabric
could not conceal the instant hardening of her nipples. A lazy half-smile curved Haldir's
lips: he was enjoying the effect he was having on the girl. It was nice to know that he
had not lost his touch after all. He viewed appraisingly her soft feminine curves that
were so unlike Gildor's hard and masculine lines. Haldir knew her body would be pliant
and yielding in a welcoming and unconditional way like only a woman's body could be. He
cut a slice off the apple and brought it to Celebrin's lips. Her lashes fluttered shut as
she opened her mouth to accept the treat. Haldir's thumb brushed her full lips as he
pushed the piece of the fruit in her mouth gently.

Gildor watched Haldir playing a hunter, his heart hammering painfully against his ribs.
He saw rapture and admiration on the girl's face and understood that that was what Haldir
was getting off on. It was only natural that as he was not able to give his lover what he
needed, Haldir went looking for it somewhere else. However, the insight into Haldir's
motives did little to lessen the pain Gildor was feeling. He was jealous, he was hurt and
he was furious. Gildor knew he could not confront Haldir right away because nothing good
would come of it, just an ugly and embarrassing scene, and in front of a witness at that.
So he whirled around and slipped away, still unnoticed by the couple on the terrace.

Gildor knew he had to move to work off the tempest of emotions that were threatening to
burst his heart. So he went out of the house, heading for the darkness of the park. He
was so distraught that he was not aware he was being followed till an arm was wrapped
around his shoulders confidently.

"Out for a walk?" Elladan inquired good-humouredly.

Gildor schooled his features quickly.

"Yes. Where is Ro?" he asked, surprised to see Elladan without his alter ego.

Elladan smirked. "Fetching some wine for a picnic."

Gildor looked at him doubtfully: the elder twin seemed to be well on his way to the
blissful state of complete intoxication. "Some more wine – and Elrohir will have to carry
you back," Gildor warned him.

Elladan laughed. "Oh, Ro is no soberer than I. We are going to play tag by our waterfall.
Care to join us?"

It was a game they had been playing since the twins' childhood. In the far end of the
park there was a small waterfall where water, after tumbling down from a height of about
four yards, formed a shoal. There were several boulders with smooth and slippery tops,
lying in the shallow stream. They jutted out of the water only a little, hardly enough to
give purchase to a foot. It took a considerable amount of agility and good balance not to
topple from a boulder, let alone to jump from one onto another.

"Come on, join us!" Elladan urged, seeing Gildor's hesitation. "It is going to be fun.
Ah, here is Ro."

Elrohir came up to them, wearing a triumphant look on his face. Gildor's eyes narrowed
when he saw the familiar green glass bottles the younger twin was holding in his hands.

"Naurdirith?"

Elrohir nodded smugly.

"Where did you get it?"

"Commandeered from Glorfindel's cache."

Gildor chuckled. "So this is where the last of my Mirkwood wine went."

"Oh, it is yours then? It means I have just done an act of justice, having returned the
property to its rightful owner," Elrohir announced.

"I am very proud of you, brother." Elladan commended him.

"I wonder if Glorfindel has drunk any of that," Gildor murmured.

"Why?" Elrohir grew instantly curious, feeling there was some catch.

Gildor's lips tilted into a half smile. "This is wine of a special blend. Thranduil and I
created the flavour together or, rather, we both *added* to the flavour."

"How?" Elladan asked.

And Gildor told them. The twins rocked with laughter.

"Can I be the one to tell Glorfindel about it, please?" Elladan asked. "I want to see his
face when he learns what he actually tasted."

They headed for the waterfall, talking and drinking the wine right from the bottle in
turn. When they reached their playground, they took off their shirts and boots and rolled
up the legs of their trousers. Then the game began. Gildor was grateful for the twins'
company. They distracted him and made him forget his grievances for a while. Soon he felt
better and was even able to laugh.

Though none of them actually *fell* into the water, they all ended up soaked through.
They finished the second bottle of the wine and Gildor sighed.

"We must go back. We need to get some sleep before the day begins."

Besides, in the morning Haldir was leaving for the border as a patrol leader for the
first time.


When Haldir returned to the Hall of Fire he was surprised to see that the crowd of
revellers had considerably thinned. He had not realized it was so late. He looked around
quickly, searching with his eyes for Gildor, but his lover was nowhere to be seen. Haldir
felt a little pang of guilt: apparently Gildor had had to leave without him. He hurried
to their rooms but found them empty and dark. Haldir's guilt was replaced by bewilderment
and then – by anxiety with a touch of irritation. Where could Gildor be at so late an
hour?

Haldir waited for him for some time but Gildor did not come. Haldir decided to return to
the Hall of Fire and check if perhaps his lover was there after all. He was walking down
the staircase when he heard voices and laughter. As he reached the second floor he saw
his lover climbing the stairs, flanked by the twins. The leggings of all three of them
were wet. Gildor's and Elrohir's shirts were open and Elladan was carrying his in his
hand. Their hair was damp and unbraided. They looked flushed and animated. Haldir stopped
and waited for them to reach the landing, not at all happy about Gildor's appearance and
company.

When the trio spotted him, their talk came abruptly to an end. Gildor could see the signs
of Haldir's displeasure quite plainly but refused to be impressed by them.

"Thanks for the drink and for the fun," he told the twins and resumed his way up the
stairs.

Haldir gave the princes an inimical stare, receiving similar stares in return, and
followed Gildor.

Gildor entered their bedroom, took off his shirt and threw it in the corner.

"Where have you been?" Haldir asked, coming in after him.

"Walking."

"With the twins?"

"It is obvious, isn't it?"

"And it never occurred to you to invite me instead?" Haldir inquired sarcastically.

Gildor turned around slowly to look at him. "As a matter of fact, it did. But I did not
want to interrupt you: you were too busy pursuing your own pleasures."

"What do you mean?"

"Celebrin." Gildor's tone was as cold as ice.

Haldir wavered a little: he had no idea Gildor had seen them. "We were just talking!" he
protested but his excuse sounded hollow even to his own ears.

Gildor felt something snap inside him. He gripped a handful of Haldir's tunic and slammed
him into the wall.

"You can not care a damn for my feelings but have some respect for my intelligence at
least!" he spat. "I know what ‘just talking' is and it is definitely not what you were
doing."

Haldir was shocked by Gildor's fierceness: during the months of Gildor's complaisance he
had entirely forgotten how fiery and violent his lover could be.

"It did not mean anything," he argued weakly. "It was but innocent flirting."

Gildor leaned forward with a hand on Haldir's throat, pressing him back against the wall.

"It was anything but innocent!" he hissed. "You looked like you could take her right
there and then without as much as checking if you had an audience!"

"Gildor, it's not… "

"Shut the heck up!" The pressure of Gildor's hand on Haldir's throat became painful. "How
dare you grudge me time with people who really care for me, who give me respite from the
humiliation you have been putting me through! You have been treating me like your
property. You have been walking all over me. You have been taking pleasure in my body
night after night not giving a damn if I was dead or alive under you, if *I* was enjoying
it at all. All you care about is remaining always the one on top in our relationship and
making sure that everyone is aware of it. It amazes me that my guards still respect me
enough to take orders from me when my own lover treats me like dirt in front of them.
I've had enough. No more!"

Gildor whirled around, heading out of the room.

"Gildor, please," Haldir managed to wheeze out. "I love you!"

"I strongly doubt it!"

The sound of the door being slammed shut heralded Gildor's exit.

Haldir rubbed his throat. His head was reeling with all the revelations. He was shaken to
the core. He had had no idea Gildor was feeling that way. Haldir could not leave it like
that. He had to explain everything to his lover so that they could sort it out.

He hurried after Gildor out of their suite but the long passage to the main staircase was
empty. Haldir threw aside the tapestry concealing the shortcut to the second floor. He
ran down the stairs, taking two at a time but Gildor was not in the family wing corridor
either.

Haldir looked at the door to the twins' suite for several moments, summoning up his
courage, and then knocked. He waited but there came no answer and he knocked again. This
time the door opened and Haldir found himself face to face with a less than pleased
Elladan.

"Oh." The elder twin leaned with his shoulder against the doorframe and folded his arms.
"To what do we owe the honour?"

"I want to talk to Gildor," Haldir said, trying not to give away how uncomfortable he
felt.

Elladan raised an eyebrow. "Why come to us then?"

"Is he not here?" It was humiliating but Haldir was prepared to pay the price. He needed
to talk to Gildor right now.

"Who is it, El?" Elrohir's voice inquired from the next room.

"No one," Elladan called back over his shoulder.

"Where is he?" Haldir demanded, feeling that he was quickly losing his grip on his self-
control.

"I do not think I can help you, Haldir of Lórien," Elladan replied coldly, straightening
up. "I suggest that next time you pay more attention to your lover's whereabouts instead
of spreading your peacock tail in front of silly females."

And he closed the door in Haldir's face. Haldir cursed aloud. He knew that even if Gildor
was not in the twins' suite, he would not be able to find him in the huge house. The only
thing he could do at the moment was to return to their rooms, hoping Gildor would come
back eventually. Only Gildor did not. He did not show up even when Haldir was leaving for
his patrol and Haldir rode out for the border with a heavy heart.


It took Gildor quite a while to calm down for he had been suppressing his feelings for
way too long. He let his anger and resentment rage for several days but when he was
finally able to look at things soberly and to analyze the reasons for his violent
reaction, he found that what lay at the root of it all was fear.

When he had first realized he was in love with Haldir and was loved in return, his
happiness was overwhelming and not shadowed by any doubt or concern. Later, when he was
once again able to listen to his common sense, Gildor understood that Haldir was far too
young to settle down and that it was more than likely that he would wish to move on one
day. Having spent his entire life without even hope of love, Gildor was ready to pay any
price and to be grateful for whatever time he had with Haldir, no matter how short this
time could be. But Haldir seemed so sincere in his feelings, so sure he wanted nothing
else and nothing more, that with time Gildor allowed himself to start believing that
maybe Haldir would love him forever and would be willing to stay with him for the rest of
eternity.

And now, when the realization that Haldir could still leave him was thrust back on him,
Gildor felt fear that bordered on panic. He could not lose Haldir, not after he had
perceived how lonely he had been before. He was not sure he would be able to go back to
living within the confines of his self-constructed walls. There was nothing left of those
walls now, he was entirely defenseless, exposed and vulnerable. Haldir had become his
fortress, his strength, his happiness, his world. How he could survive the loss of
Haldir, Gildor could not even start to fathom.

That was the reason Gildor was so apprehensive of their future talk. They had to talk –
of that Gildor had no doubt. But he dreaded what he might hear from Haldir. He was afraid
Haldir would want his freedom back and then his life would crumple down like a house of
cards. Gildor knew it was cowardly of him to try to postpone the inevitable but he could
not help it: until Haldir had not told him he wanted to leave, he could still have hope.


It was the hardest time Haldir had ever had on patrol. He constantly had to make an
effort to keep his thoughts from wandering Gildor's way and to concentrate on his duties
instead. It was easier to achieve during the daytime but at night his guilt and his worry
got the better of him and he tossed and turned on his bedroll, unable to fall asleep.

The fact that Gildor had not come to see him off to his patrol was a very disturbing
sign: Gildor had never held to a grudge once he let out steam. His tantrums could be
violent but they were quick to pass. This time though it seemed to be much more serious.
The things Gildor had told Haldir in his rage worried Haldir to no end. Haldir could not
believe he had been so blind and so dumb. He hoped fervently it was not too late yet to
put everything right. He wished he could rush back to Imladris and tell Gildor how sorry
he was and how much he loved him. Each day Haldir had to spend away from his lover added
to his anxiety.

The only thing that gave Haldir some comfort during this time was the thought that the
twins were not at the Last Homely House. They had left Imladris three days after Haldir's
shift on the border had started. Haldir was not sure Gildor had really spent the night
after their quarrel in the princes' suite but he could not help feeling grateful that the
twins were nowhere near his lover while he was away. Haldir's memory kept on torturing
him with the visions from Lady Galadriel's Mirror…

Gildor's patrol was to relieve Haldir's on the border and Haldir was looking forward to
it, hoping he would be able to talk to Gildor, even if briefly. But when Gildor and his
guards finally arrived, Haldir found to his dismay that his lover was indisposed to talk
about anything but business. He listened to Haldir's report attentively but when it was
finished, he nodded and turned to leave. Haldir caught him by the arm.

"Gildor, I need to talk to you. Please."

Some strange expression flickered in Gildor's eyes but the next moment he drew up the
shutters again; his look became unreadable, his face blank.

"This is neither the right time nor the right place for private conversations, Haldir,"
he said in a dull tone. "I trust it can wait till I am back home."

Haldir spent the following two weeks brooding and pacing the halls of the big house like
a caged panther. Four days prior to Gildor's return there came a welcome distraction in
the form of a Lórien messenger and his guards. Though neither of Haldir's brothers was
among them, Haldir was genuinely glad to see them. Their company made the remaining time
of waiting easier to bear.

Finally the long-awaited day came. But when Gildor's patrol poured into the yard in front
of the barracks, Haldir found to his surprise and confusion that Gildor was not among
them. He approached Arvegil about it and Gildor's second in command explained that their
Captain had stayed behind to wait for the twins who were to reach the border in several
hours according to Gildor's estimation.

"You will not have to wait for long," Arvegil smiled. "They will be here before the
nightfall."

Haldir thanked him, hiding his anxiety. The uneasy feeling he had been having for days
started to coil into a cold knot in the pit of his stomach. The weather seemed to mirror
his mood for the first dark clouds began forming on the verge of the horizon.


Gildor scolded himself for his cowardice as he sat on a log, waiting for the twins. He
knew he should have gone home and faced Haldir and the things his lover had to tell him.
But here he was, procrastinating and hoping for he knew not what.

Gildor suddenly realized how quiet it had become. Birds stopped chirruping and the
silence was disturbed only by the murmuring of the river. Even the air was so still that
it seemed to Gildor that the forest around him held its breath. A thunderstorm was
brewing. Dark gray clouds were starting to obscure the bright blue of the sky and Gildor
thought he heard the first rumbling of thunder in the distance.

The twins crossed the ford with the storm on their heels. They were surprised and
delighted to find Gildor waiting for them.

"Hurry up! We can still outrun it," he urged them.

Elrohir looked up doubtfully. The sky was of angry black colour by now and claps of
thunder sounded almost right above their heads.

"Perhaps we should stay here with the patrol and wait in the caves till the storm is
over."

But Gildor was suddenly as much eager to get home as he had been reluctant before. "No,
you can stay if you want but I am leaving."

"Why did you wait for us then if you are in such a haste to get back?" Elladan grumbled.

But still all three of them mounted and set on their way together. Their horses seemed to
be just as anxious to reach the safety of their home and were carrying their riders at a
record speed. However, the storm was faster. Soon it was raging all around them. The
trees were moaning and protesting under the harsh lash of the wind. Bolts of lightning
were piercing the sky with brilliant zigzags and the peals of thunder became deafening.

"Cabin!" Elladan shouted, trying to make himself heard over the noise. "Head for the
cabin!"

As they reached the hut, the sky seemed to burst open and the rain came down in torrents.
They left their horses under the relative shelter of a shed and rushed inside the cabin.

"Ew!" Elladan wrung out his dripping hair. "I am not moving anywhere from here till this
downpour is over."

The twins quickly made fire in the small hearth, peeled off their sodden clothes, spread
them out near the fire to dry and wrapped themselves in their blankets. All the while
Gildor stood by the window, watching the storm. Elrohir came up to him and touched his
shoulder.

"Gildor, you should undress. You'll be chilled to the bone if you do not: you are soaked
through."

But Gildor shook his head. "No. I think I still can make it to Imladris."

Elrohir stared at him in disbelief. "Are you serious?"

Gildor nodded. "I want to give it a try."

Elrohir opened his mouth to argue but Elladan stopped him. "Let him, Ro," he said,
spreading their bedrolls.

Elrohir watched Gildor go out and then turned to his brother. Elladan smirked up at him.

"Do not worry, gellen. He can be reckless but his horse is not. Silivren will not leave
the shelter in such weather. Gildor will be back in a minute. Come here, meleth, and warm
the bed for me." [my joy; love]

"Hm?" Elrohir raised an eyebrow archly but responded to his twin's call. They snuggled up
together under their blankets, sharing the warmth of their bodies.

Elladan proved to be right: Gildor returned to the cabin after a short time, looking
gloomy and upset. Water was running down from his uniform, pooling into a puddle at his
feet. Elladan had a smug told-you-so expression on his face but managed to keep silent.

"For the Valar's sake, Gildor, take off your clothes before you flood the floor
completely," Elrohir exclaimed.

Gildor sighed, finally accepting the fact that he was not going anywhere any time soon.
He shucked off his garments, wrung them and spread them out alongside the twins'.

Elrohir moved away from his brother, making place for Gildor. "Come join us, let us warm
you. You are shaking.

"The wind is as chilling as in winter," Gildor offered as an excuse. He knew his
shivering was not caused by the cold. He felt wrought-up and restless.

"Come here," Elrohir called again, stretching out an arm in invitation.

"No!" Elladan protested in mock displeasure. "He'll feel like a frog, cold and damp. I
hate having frogs in my bed."

"You haven't had any since our childhood," Elrohir laughed, catching Gildor's hand and
pulling him down between them.

"But I still remember the sensation," Elladan grumbled as he pressed closer to Gildor and
drew the blankets over the tree of them.

As the warmth of the twins' bodies permeated his own, Gildor was able to relax gradually.
Soon the weariness took the better of them and they fell asleep.



Haldir watched the approaching storm with apprehension. When it finally swept down on the
Last Homely House and Gildor was still not back, his worry reached its highest. Haldir
wished he were able to farspeak with Gildor to learn if he was safe and where he was. And
with whom… Haldir could stand the emptiness and the quiet of the suite no longer. He left
the room, deciding he would go and find Elrond. Perhaps the Lord of the house knew
something about the whereabouts of the Vanya.

Haldir met Elrond near the main staircase.

"Excuse me, my Lord," he addressed him. "I am worried about Gildor. I am afraid he could
have got caught in the storm. Do you know by any chance where he is at the moment?"

Elrond smiled at him. "He is safe, Haldir. He found refuge in the small cabin together
with my sons. They will spend the night there. Hopefully, the storm will subside by the
morning and they will be able to come home."

The small cabin… My sons… Spend the night…

Haldir stared at Elrond in wide-eyed dismay, feeling his blood turn cold in his veins as
dark despair clutched at his heart with its claws.

"Haldir, are you well?" Elrond asked in concern, seeing how deathly white the young
Galadhel had suddenly become.

"Yes," Haldir managed to bring out. "I'm fine. I just… I'm just tired. I think I'll go
and lie down."

He hurried up the staircase, eager to get back to his room. He badly needed the solitude
it offered. Once there, he shut the door and leaned back against it heavily. The scene he
had seen in Lady Galadriel's Mirror was playing before his mind's eye over and over
again. Gildor undressing… The twins making place for him between them on their bedroll …
Haldir shook his head, willing the visions away but they would not leave and went on
tormenting him.

"He will go back to*them*. He always does. His dark princes, his twin beauties."

Haldir moaned aloud. He had ruined everything. He had taken Gildor for granted and now he
had lost him. He had had a chance to put things right but he missed it. It was too late
now, too late... Things that had had to come to pass *had* come to pass. Gildor was lost
to him now and it was his own fault… Haldir was afraid to imagine what his life would be
like without Gildor, but he knew for sure that if he wanted to survive the disaster of
breaking off their relationship, he would have to be the one to leave and he would have
to do it immediately.

Haldir slid down to sit on the floor, buried his face in his bent knees and wept.



Gildor woke up as soon as the rain stopped drumming on the roof of the hut. It was gray
twilight before dawn. He extricated himself carefully from under the entangled limbs,
trying not to disturb the twins. But it was a hard task and they awoke nevertheless.

"Where are you going?" Elrohir mumbled, blinking at him sleepily.

"Imladris." Gildor started putting on his clothes, which were still a little damp. "You
do not have to accompany me. You can get some more sleep and come home later."

"I for one am not going anywhere right now." Elladan moved closer to Elrohir and pulled
him into his arms.

Silivren was more cooperative now that the storm was over and soon he was carrying Gildor
to the Last Homely House.


The inexplicable feeling of urgency that had been driving Gildor all the way back left
him all of a sudden in front of the door to his suite. Gildor hesitated for a moment,
took a deep breath and went in. It was quiet inside, the sort of quiet that immediately
told Gildor that the suite was empty. He walked through the front room slowly, already
aware that something was terribly wrong. Then he entered the bedchamber. The bed was made
but it was not what made Gildor's heart suddenly miss a beat and then race painfully fast
in his chest. He looked around frantically to confirm his suspicion, gasped and rushed to
the wardrobe. When he threw its doors open, he almost swayed on his feet. He staggered
backwards till the backs of his knees hit the edge of the bed and sat down heavily. He
felt as if he suddenly found himself in the middle of his worst nightmare. It could not
be true! It just could not be true, could it?

And then he heard footsteps. Oh, he knew the sound of them so well. He looked at the door
with a renewed hope and – there was Haldir. The Galadhel stopped on the threshold, not
actually entering the room. Gildor caught himself at praying desperately for it all to be
some silly joke or a major misunderstanding, though deep in his heart he knew that it was
not. They looked at each other silently for several long moments till Haldir finally
glanced away, breaking their eye contact.

"I am leaving for home," he announced, his voice bereft of any emotion.

"Why?"

"I think it will be better for us both."

Gildor felt some strange calmness descend upon him suddenly. He was gazing at Haldir,
unconsciously memorizing every line, every beloved feature.

"We did not make any promises, did not take any oaths," Haldir said, studying the canopy
of the bed.

"We did not," Gildor confirmed, his voice hardly more than a breath.

"You said I was free to leave any moment I wished," Haldir went on, still looking
anywhere but at his lover, his *former* lover that was.

"I did."

"So… I want to leave now. You promised not to try to stop me."

Everything happening to him seemed surreal to Gildor: his lover, his *love* was leaving
him and he could not even make an attempt to hold him back, bound by his own word.

"I shall not," he whispered, defeated.

Now Haldir did look at him, long and hard. Then he sighed.

"Well… I think I should be going. Farewell, Gildor."

"Farewell, Silfael."

Haldir winced at the endearment and turned to leave but Gildor suddenly stopped him.
"Wait!"

Haldir whirled around.

"Do not leave Gloss behind, please. He loves you. He will never be able to understand for
what fault he was abandoned."

The lump in his throat threatened to choke Haldir. He nodded mutely and hurried out of
the room. Gildor heard the door shut. For several moments he remained blissfully numb but
then pain rushed down on him like a wild torrent of searing lava. He gasped for air but
could not take a breath. He tugged at the collar of his tunic, feeling that he was
suffocating. He scrambled up to his feet and staggered out onto the terrace, his lungs
burning from the lack of air. It was no better outside, though. He pressed his back
against the wall, watching sparkling motes that danced before his eyes. Then all went
black and he slid down to the floor in a dead faint.


Glorfindel watched as Haldir secured his travel bag to the saddle of his horse.

"Haldir, you are making a mistake."

"Say no more," Haldir interrupted him. "I have made my decision. Nothing you can tell me
will change it."

Glorfindel was about to speak again but the twins chose this very moment to ride into the
yard. They dismounted and a stableboy led their horses away. The princes took in the
group of the Geledhil, Haldir's saddled stallion and Glorfindel's upset expression.

"Where are you going?" Elladan asked Haldir suspiciously.

"I think you will be glad to learn that I am leaving for Lórien," Haldir replied, not
looking at them.

"For how long?"

Now Haldir did turn and gave them a cold stare. "For good."

The twins exchanged a quick glance.

"Does Gildor know?" Elrohir inquired then.

It was taking Haldir every ounce of his willpower to speak to the twins civilly when all
he wanted was to lash out, to hurt them, to make them pay for what he had lost.

"Yes, he does," he answered testily.

"How did he take it?" Elrohir asked, ignoring Haldir's irritation.

"Calmly." Haldir barely managed to conceal his bitterness.

The twins exchanged another of their communicating looks and then Elladan ran up the
stairs into the house while Elrohir hurried to the stables.

"Haldir," Glorfindel tried again but the young elf only shook his head and turned away.

Haldir kept on stealing furtive glances at the entrance to the house, afraid that Gildor
would try to stop him after all and wishing him to do just that. He knew that if Gildor
only asked him to stay, he would not be able to leave. But Gildor did not show up.
Finally, the Lórien elves were ready to get on their way and Haldir rode out of the Last
Homely House with the mixed feeling of relief and regret.

Soon after the Geledhil's departure the twins once again joined Glorfindel by the main
entrance.

"He is not in his rooms," Elladan reported.

"But Silivren is in the stables," Elrohir said. "It means he is somewhere here."

The twins scanned the grounds around.

"Do not go searching for him," Glorfindel warned them. "He is sure to want to be alone.
Give him time to collect himself and his strength."



Gildor surfaced slowly out of unconsciousness. He lay for some time, looking up at the
sky above him. Something terrible had happened, he remembered that much and was not sure
he wanted to remember more. But the realization hit him nevertheless: Haldir had left
him. He gasped and sat up abruptly. The world spun around him a little. He struggled up
to his feet, supporting himself with one hand on the wall. Haldir had left him and he had
allowed it… How stupid was that? To Mordor with his promise to let his lover go without a
fight! Haldir was his soul, his life, his everything. He simply would not be able to live
without him. In the face of such disaster any word of honour lost its shining importance.
Gildor glanced at the sun. Ah, it was rather late already. He had remained unconscious
for way too long. It did not matter, though. The Geledhil would be traveling at a
moderate speed and Gildor did not believe they were riding horses Silivren would not be
able to overtake.

Gildor did not want to meet anyone, so he climbed down to the ground with the help of ivy
vines that were covering the wall below his terrace. He made his way to the stables
stealthily and led his horse out. He mounted, once outside the gates. He was lucky: no
one saw him leave. He knew all the shortcuts and all the secret paths into Imladris like
the back of his hand. So he managed to get past the guards without being spotted. As soon
as he rode out of the valley, he sent his stallion into a gallop.

"Please, Silivren, do not fail me now! Fly like the wind!"



The Lórien elves stopped for the night near a small spring. They made fire and had
supper. Haldir refused his food, saying he was not hungry. He had been silent and
withdrawn on the way. He felt as if his life energy were bleeding out of him with each
step of his horse that was taking him away from Gildor. He wished he could go back and
ask Gildor to give him one more chance but he knew his wish was folly.

He was sitting alone away from the fire and the company, fighting the pain that was worse
than anything he had ever experienced. He wished he could just die and stop this agony.
He felt a hand on his arm and looked up. One of his fellow-guards, Mergil, was kneeling
in front of him.

"Haldir, it pains me to see you suffer so. I know it will take you a long time to cure
completely but if you wish to have a little comfort right now, a means to forget your
troubles for a short while, I am willing to provide it."

Haldir looked at Mergil, the meaning of his offer dawning upon him slowly. Yes! He needed
comfort, he needed respite from this unendurable pain even if only for a few moments. Not
to think, not to remember, not to regret…

Haldir nodded silently and they rose to their feet. They did not go too far: it was not
safe to wander away from company in the wilds at night. Mergil slid down to his knees in
front of Haldir gracefully. Haldir leaned back against a tree and closed his eyes.



Gildor knew he was close to the Geledhil, he felt their presence just a short distance
away. He did not want to make a dramatic appearance, galloping into their camp. So he
dismounted, deciding he would walk the rest of the way. He almost reached the glade when
he stopped abruptly as if he had hit a glass wall with his forehead. He stared at the
scene in front of him and his heart started hammering so hard he could hear it inside his
head. How had it come to this so quickly, he asked himself. He had been living in a
nightmare since morning and it only became worse and worse. Gildor felt he was about to
faint again. The copper taste of betrayal on his tongue told him there was nothing left
for him here any more. He backed away carefully, grateful he had not been noticed.


Mergil was well-meaning and solicitous. And he was rather skilled with his tongue too. It
was certainly not his fault Haldir could not find the comfort he was seeking. It all felt
so wrong to him: the wrong touch, the wrong sensations… the wrong person. Haldir gave up
finally and allowed his imagination to create an image of Gildor, pretending those were
his hands stroking his hips, his breath on his heated flesh, his mouth enveloping him,
caressing him, drawing on him. It all seemed so real that for a moment Haldir could swear
he felt Gildor's presence. When he came finally, it was Gildor's name that spilled from
his lips.

"I… I am sorry, Mergil," he murmured in embarrassment.

"That's all right," Mergil answered, rising to his feet. "I understand."

After a moment of hesitation Haldir pulled him in for a kiss of thanks. Even his own
taste on Mergil's tongue felt wrong… Haldir could feel the other elf's arousal pressing
to his thigh and it suddenly occurred to him that perhaps Mergil expected him to return
the favour. He did not find the prospect attractive but he knew he should offer it
nevertheless.

"I believe I… I have to… I mean… "

"No," Mergil assured him graciously. "I did it for *you*. Do you feel better now?"

"Yes," Haldir lied.

Mergil smiled. "Good. If you ever need some comfort again, you know where to find me."

"Thank you," Haldir nodded though he doubted he would ever return for the second round.



Gildor did not remember how he had got back to his horse; he did not remember how he had
mounted. When he came to his senses, it was almost dawn and Silivren was taking him at a
high speed to… somewhere. He wondered vaguely how he had managed to stay on horseback all
this time. He felt terribly weak, cold and sick.

"Stop," he asked his stallion. "Stop now."

Silivren obeyed. Gildor slid down and held to his horse for a moment for his legs
threatened to give way under him. But nausea was getting the better of him and he
stumbled to a nearby tree and braced his hand on its trunk as dry heaves doubled him
over. When the fit finally subsided, he felt utterly drained and hardly alive. He allowed
himself to crumple down to the ground. He had neither strength nor wish to move. And why
should he move? What was the use of struggling to go on when he had nothing worth living
for any longer? He did not want to struggle. He did not want to live. Gildor closed his
eyes and let darkness overtake him.


A/N: If you have forgotten the recipe of wine with special Mirkwood/Imladris blend, you
can find it in Chapter 12 of "To Wait For You". ;)



Chapter 10. A Reason to Live.



When velvet twilights enveloped the parks and gardens of Imladris, the twins went to
check Gildor's suite again. It was as empty and quiet as before. They headed for the
stables then and what they saw or rather did *not* see there made them hurry to their
father's study.

"He is gone!" they announced in agitation as they rushed inside.

Elrond looked up from his papers. "Who is gone?"

"Gildor," Elrohir explained. "Silivren is not in the stables."

"Did he not leave any word where he went?" Elrond asked, leaning back in his chair.

"No! No one saw him ride out." Elladan looked really troubled.

"Ada, can you not farspeak with him?" Elrohir asked pleadingly. "Can you find out where
he is?"

Elrond was silent for a long moment but then sighed and shook his head. "He has shut
himself from the world. I cannot reach him. There is nothing to worry about, though," he
added after a look at his sons' concerned faces. "Perhaps he went after Haldir. They
still can make up and come back together."

The twins exchanged a glance. They did not share their father's optimism. But they had no
idea where to start searching for Gildor so there was nothing else for them to do but to
wait and pray he would return on his own.

They spent a cheerless evening in futile waiting, their anxiety increasing. Glorfindel
was also worried, though he managed to hide it better. He shot Elrond questioning looks
now and again but the Lord of the house kept on shaking his head in response. He was
unable to reach through to Gildor: the Vanya was blocking any attempt at communicating
with him.

Finally the twins retired to their chambers but Elladan refused to go to bed: he felt too
restless. Elrohir ended up falling asleep in an armchair. He did not sleep for long,
though. Elladan woke him up before dawn.

"Get up, Ro! Get up! We must go!"

"What? Where?" Elrohir blinked at him drowsily as his brother dragged him up onto his
feet.

"We must hurry." Elladan was pulling him along after himself now. "I know where Gildor
is."

"You do?"

"Yes, at least approximately."

"Shouldn't we speak to Ada first? Or Glorfindel?"

"There is no time for that. Something terrible has happened. Don't you feel it?"

Elladan's agitation quickly infected Elrohir and they crossed the yard to the stables at
a run. As they galloped out of the gates, Elrohir tried to alert their father. He was not
too good at farspeaking yet but Elrond was the person he could reach practically always.
It was more difficult this time because their father was asleep but in the end Elrohir
managed to wake him up and tell him where they were heading.

Elrohir kept throwing glances at his brother as their horses were carrying them forward.
Elladan looked grave and was definitely in a mission mode. Though the elder twin shared
no other bond with Gildor than that of friendship, sometimes it was simply bewildering
how well he could feel Gildor's emotional state. By the expression on Elladan's face and
by the way he urged his horse Elrohir knew things had to be really serious.

They rode out of the valley and turned eastward. Suddenly they saw a flash of white and
recognized Gildor's stallion. Without the rider… Elrohir rather felt than heard Elladan's
gasp. When Silivren was sure they had noticed him, he turned and cantered to a grove
further ahead. The twins followed him.

They found Gildor lying on the grass, motionless, lifeless, with his eyes closed. Elladan
blanched at the sight.

"Oh no!"

He tumbled down from his saddle and rushed to Gildor's side. "Oh no, nonono!"

He pressed his fingers to Gildor's throat, searching for his pulse and gasped at how cold
his skin was to the touch.

"Ro!" He looked up with frantic eyes. "I can't feel his pulse! Do something! Anything!"

Elrohir kneeled on the other side of Gildor's body and felt for his heartbeat. Finally he
was able to perceive it, though it was very faint.

"He is still alive," Elrohir told his twin. "But he has gone very far."

He checked Gildor for wounds. There were none. Elrohir frowned and then looked at
Elladan. "Ada says to bring him home as fast as we can."

Elladan wrapped Gildor in their cloaks to keep him warm and they got on their way back.
When their lather-covered horses finally brought them to the Last Homely House, they were
met by Elrond and Glorfindel. Glorfindel took Gildor over from Elladan and carried him
into the House of Healing. Elrond directed him to one of the wards where Glorfindel lay
Gildor's still form down on a bed and unwrapped the cloaks. Elrond took one look at the
Vanya and ordered, "Out! All of you."

He spoke in the sort of voice that compelled immediate obedience. His sons and his
seneschal left without any argument and closed the door behind them. They spent the next
two hours, watching that door anxiously.

Elladan paced the room back and forth, muttering curses. His ceaseless pendulum-like
motion rubbed on Elrohir's nerves.

"For pity's sake, El!" he exclaimed finally. "Do stay still for a moment. You'll wear a
groove in the floor."

"I cannot," the elder twin muttered darkly. "When I think of all the battles and wars
Gildor has survived only to end up like this – it just drives me crazy! I swear I'll kill
that Lórien bastard with my own hands if Gildor… if anything happens to Gildor."

"Are you sure Haldir is to blame for Gildor's current state?" Elrohir tried to reason
with him.

Elladan's eyes narrowed. "Who else? You know where we found Gildor. It means he went
after him, right?"

"Right."

"Obviously, they talked and that… that son of an orc said or did something nasty enough
to make Gildor seek death."

Elrohir shook his head. "How do you know they talked? Maybe something happened to Gildor
before he could overtake Haldir?"

Elladan gave his brother a sarcastic look. "Do you believe it yourself?"

No, Elrohir did not believe it. He thought that Elladan's reconstruction of the events
was most probably correct.

Glorfindel did not take part in their discussion. He felt that in a way he was
responsible for things turning out like this. If he had not stopped the twins from going
searching for Gildor at once, now his friend would not be knocking at the door to the
Halls of Waiting. He was castigating himself for the wrong decision he had made. But how
on Arda could he have foreseen that Gildor, who had always been so strong and who seemed
to be able to weather just *any* storm, would break down so suddenly and so devastatingly
fast? Perhaps, if he had been there for Gildor, Gildor would have been able to survive
this stroke of fate as well? Would he ever know now?

They were waiting for the door to open, but still all three of them started when it
finally did.

"Ada, are you well?" Elrohir asked in concern.

Elrond, who looked pallid and dead tired, nodded in response to Elrohir's query. Then
there was a pause as neither Glorfindel nor the twins dared ask the question hovering on
the tips of their tongues.

"He is alive," Elrond said at last. "But he is still unconscious."

"When will he come to himself?" Elladan wanted to know.

Elrond shrugged wearily. "When he chooses to. Or *if* he chooses to."

"What do you mean?" Glorfindel inquired sharply.

Elrond gave his friend a sad look. "He did not want to come back. I had to fight him and
force him to return. If he ever comes to his senses, I doubt he will be happy to find he
is still alive."

Glorfindel gave it a thought and then spoke again. "In case Gildor chooses to stay among
the living after all, I suggest we tell everyone he rode out of Imladris, was attacked
and took a bad wound. He would not wish the reason for his breakdown to become public
knowledge."

Elrond nodded in agreement, acknowledging the wisdom of Glorfindel's words.


Gildor was floating in nothingness, which was soothing and quiet. He did not know where
he was or who he was or how he had got there – and he did not care. He vaguely remembered
that the place he had come from was not so peaceful and the person he had been was not
very happy. So he was grateful to be just some anonymous no one, drifting in the middle
of nowhere. Several times he thought he heard voices calling him. But he did not want his
serene solitude to be disturbed so he ignored them and after a while he stopped hearing
them.

At times he saw blurred images that he believed could be visions of his previous life.
And then there were periods of warm darkness when he truly became a part of all-embracing
nothingness. These periods happened more and more often and lasted longer. And he
welcomed them…

Then at some point he saw light ahead. Or was it behind him? He was surprised, but only
vaguely. And he did not want to move: he was not interested. But he was carried towards
the light by some invisible current. When he was brought closer, he saw a large sphere
that emitted soft glow. There were three people inside it. It took him several long
moments to recognize them. But when he did, he instantly remembered who *he* was:
Nairalindë. Two of the elves in that crystal globe were his parents. Nairalindë was
drinking in the sight of them hungrily. They looked exactly like he remembered them: his
mother gentle and golden-haired and gloriously beautiful and his father tall and calm and
radiating strength and kindness. When Nairalindë was able to tear his eyes off them, he
saw with surprise that the third elf was Ermenor, his old and long-lost friend. Ah, here
there *were* changes. There was no hidden sadness in Ermenor's eyes any longer and the
braids in his hair told Nairalindë that his friend had a bonded mate now. For some reason
the notion of a bonded mate seemed alarming to Nairalindë, even painful. And suddenly the
realization hit him full-force: he was Nairalindë no longer, he was *Gildor*. And as if
some dam burst inside his head, memories rushed down on him. He remembered what had
happened and why he was here and though he had no idea where this "here" was, he was
absolutely certain he did not wish to return to where he had come from. Home - that was
the place he wanted to go to.

He looked at his parents again and saw that they were talking to him. He could not hear
their voices but somehow knew that instead of welcoming him with open arms as he had
expected them to they were urging him to go back. He felt being pushed away, gently but
insistently as if the light coming out of the sphere were thickening into a luminous
tidal wave. Gildor gasped. He did not want to leave!

‘Ada! Nana! Help me!'

But they were shaking their heads ‘no'. Gildor's heart fell: he was again being rejected
by someone he loved. What was he to do? He turned his eyes to Ermenor. His friend was
looking at him with understanding and sympathy. Of course he would know how Gildor was
feeling right now: he had been in Gildor's shoes himself. It was this very agony that
made him go away and get himself killed.

As Gildor was carried by the relentless current farther and farther away from the
luminous sphere he felt more and more forlorn and cold, oh so cold.


For two long weeks Elrond and his sons changed each other by Gildor's sickbed as no one
else was allowed into the room to keep the details of Gildor's illness a secret. All this
time Gildor remained unconscious, his heartbeat becoming fainter with each passing day.
The twins tried not to give in to despair and prayed for a miracle. But the Valar seemed
to keep their ears closed as Elladan put it, and instead of getting better things got
worse: by the end of the second week Gildor developed a fever. He was burning; his skin
dry and hot, his lips parched. The twins kept wrapping him in cool damp sheets to lessen
his bodily heat but it did little good as the cloth got dried within minutes. Even
Elrond's potion, some of which they managed to pour into Gildor's throat, did not help
much. By the night Gildor was delirious.

Listening to his feverish talk, the twins were finally able to deduce what had happened
on the way to Lórien.

"Why?" Elladan exclaimed, wiping away angry tears. "Why did he have to choose that piece
of crap when anyone, just anyone would be happy and grateful to be with him?" He slammed
his fist into his palm. "Ah, Haldir of Lórien, you are lucky you've run away so far and
so fast and I cannot follow you right away. For I badly want to spill your dark blood."

Elrohir remained silent but his anger was boiling just as hot as Elladan's.

By the middle of the night Gildor suddenly began shivering with cold. His forehead was
still burning but his hands and feet were icy. The twins wrapped him in fur blankets but
it was no use: shivers continued to wrack Gildor's body.

"What do we do now?" Elladan looked at his brother helplessly.

Elrohir chewed on his lip, thinking. "Get undressed, El," he commanded and started
opening his own shirt.

Elladan understood his twin's intention and followed his example quickly. They got into
bed and cradled Gildor between them, lending him the warmth of their bodies. He went on
moaning and shaking for some time longer but then he grew quiet and still. So still in
fact, that Elladan panicked but Elrohir squeezed his shoulder reassuringly and smiled.

"He has fallen asleep," he whispered.

It was how Elrond found them next morning: all three cuddled together and in deep
slumber. He woke up his sons, careful not to disturb the Vanya, and sent them to their
rooms to get some proper rest.

"The worst is over," he told them. "He will live now."


When Gildor finally awoke, it was Elrond that he saw by his bedside.

"Welcome back," Elrond smiled.

Gildor looked at him for several moments as if he could not quite understand who Elrond
was and what he was talking about. Then he turned away and closed his eyes. Elrond
sighed. It looked like it was as bad as he had feared it would be: Gildor was not
overjoyed to be returned.

During the next few days Elrond, his sons and Glorfindel tried in turns to bring Gildor
out of his apathy, but in vain. The Vanya was uncooperative and unresponsive. He did not
speak, refused food and drink and rarely opened his eyes at all. Finally the Lord of the
house decided to try another approach.

"If you want to leave," he told Gildor, "fine, do it. But do it differently, not like
this. Take a ship, sale west. Then at least you won't leave us with this awful feeling
that we have failed you, that we have not tried hard enough to find a way to help you.
That it all is our fault."

Gildor turned his head to look at him wearily. "It is not your fault," he said quietly.

"I know. And I know that it is irrational but this is how we feel. How you *make* us
feel. I do not want my sons to live for the rest of eternity with this burden on their
souls."

"All right," Gildor sighed. "I'll talk to them."

Now that he had managed to get some reaction from Gildor, Elrond decided to push him a
little more.

"You must eat," he told him. "And you'd better do it on your own for in no way we will
let you starve yourself to death."

Gildor closed his eyes for a moment. Elrond did not understand… He did not refuse food
out of stubbornness. He simply *could not* eat. He had neither strength, nor wish to
explain that to Elrond though. So he sat up in his bed slowly and accepted the bowl of
broth Elrond was offering him. However, he was not able to take much of it. After several
mouthfuls he had to make a hasty way to the bathroom with Elrond's help where he was
violently sick. It made Elrond realize that it was not Gildor's body that refused
nutrition; it was his mind, or rather his subconscious. Gildor was resenting the fact
that he had been forced back to life and Elrond had yet to find a way to draw him out of
his severe depression; or shock him out of it, if need be.

In the meantime he managed by trial and error to concoct a sustaining mixture that Gildor
was able to keep inside. Elrohir added some herbs to it, turning it into a sweetly
smelling and tasting tisane, and did his best to coax Gildor into drinking it as often as
he could. In the evenings he mixed sleeping potion into it for Gildor to get a good
night's rest because falling asleep on his own was almost as problematic for the Vanya as
taking food.

Glorfindel could not stay in Imladris for long as he had his duties and responsibilities
but the twins remained by Gildor's side. He made an attempt to persuade them to leave him
and go on with their lives.

"You do not have to feel chained to me," he told them. "You have done nothing for which
you have to make up to me. Nothing of what happened came to pass through any fault of
yours. You would not have been able to mess things up so thoroughly anyway. It takes
millennia of experience... "

Still the twins stayed. They did their best to keep Gildor cheerful company but at times
despair got the better even of them. For Elladan the feeling of helplessness was
especially hard to deal with. Gildor overheard him complaining to his brother one
afternoon when they thought he was drowsing.

"I feel so powerless, Ro, that it drives me mad," the elder twin admitted. "It's like it
was with Mother: I wish desperately I could do something to help but I cannot… It's so
painful that I want to scream or ride out and hunt down some orcs to vent my rage and
frustration."

"I know, melethen," Elrohir stroked Elladan's hair soothingly. "I know… "

Gildor hated being the cause of pain for the ones he loved. But what could he do? He
wished they had just let him die a month ago… His memory took him back to his wanderings
in emptiness. He thought of his parents and of Ermenor. Suddenly his eyes flew open. He
could take Ermenor's way! He also could go fighting and fall in battle. It was a much
faster and much more agreeable way to die than to fade away miserably on a sickbed.

"Elladan," he said in an unexpectedly strong voice, startling the twins, "do not go
hunting orcs yet. I want to join you."

There was a striking change in Gildor's state after that day. Neither the twins nor their
father could fathom the reason for it but they welcomed it whole-heartedly nevertheless.
Gildor still had to take sleeping potion at night but he was able to eat and started
getting up. After several days he said he was strong enough to leave the House of Healing
and move back into his own rooms. Elrond was hesitant to allow it but Gildor's
stubbornness returned along with his strength and he refused to listen to any objections.

"You are an irksome patient," Elrond complained jokingly.

Gildor shrugged it off. "Serves you right. You should have let me die. Then you would
have got rid of me once and for all."

Elrond was unable to decide if Gildor meant it seriously or was joking as well.


Gildor took a deep breath and opened the door to his suite. He walked through the front
chamber slowly, looking around. The rooms had been prepared for his return: they were
cleaned, aired and decorated with fresh flowers. But Gildor could not suppress a feeling
that he was walking through desolate ruins. Love was gone from the place and now it was
merely a space within four walls. Gildor swallowed, trying to get rid of the taste of
ashes in his mouth. He knew he could do nothing about it now; just live with this
emptiness in his home and in his heart. At least, live for some time…

He drew a hot bath and lay in it, trying not to think, not to remember and failing
miserably. When the water started cooling, he washed, got out of the bath and did
something he had rarely done before: he put on his sleeping pants. Then he went to bed,
or rather he went as far as the bedside. He stood there, looking at his devastatingly
large and empty bed and could not make himself climb into it. Finally he took a pillow
and a blanket and moved to a sofa in the sitting room. There he was able to fall asleep
in the end.


The twins felt very uncomfortable, letting Gildor out of their sight. They remembered
only too well what had happened the last time Gildor was left to his own devices. They
decided to check on him before going to bed. The twins made their way down the hidden
stairs stealthily and listened by his door. All was quiet. They were debating silently if
they should enter or not when there came a sudden scream from inside. The twins rushed
in, forgetting all their doubts.

They were surprised to find Gildor on the couch in the living room. He was moaning and
crying. Elladan hurried to the couch, sat down and collected the Vanya into his arms.

"It's all right. We are here. It's all right," he murmured soothingly.

Gildor clung to him. "Don't go! Don't leave me! Please… "

"We never will, dagnir-e-guilen. I swear!"

"El," Elrohir whispered. "He is still asleep."

Elladan pulled away a little to have a look at the Vanya and found that his brother was
right. Stunned, he realized *what* kind of nightmare had been haunting Gildor. He pressed
him closer to his chest.

‘What do we do now, Ro? We cannot leave him like that. Should we wake him up?'

Elrohir thought for a moment and shook his head.

‘No. Take him to the bedroom. There is not enough place for all of us on the couch.'

Elladan picked Gildor up and carried him into the bedchamber, Elrohir following close
behind. They got into the spacious bed and settled there in much the same way they had
done in the House of Healing, with Gildor being cradled between them like a baby bird
between two warm palms.

Gildor woke up, feeling cosy and – for some reason – protected. But when he suddenly
realized that the warmth he had been relishing came from two hard bodies on both sides of
him, he bolted upright, the last remnants of drowsiness falling off him rapidly. The
twins sat up as well. Elladan slid further along the bed and turned to face Gildor.

"It's all right," he patted Gildor's knee soothingly. "It's only us."

Gildor felt terribly disoriented. He did not remember how the twins had come to be in bed
with him or what the three of them could have possibly done during the night. Elladan saw
confusion in his eyes.

"You had a nightmare," he explained. "We heard you screaming and came in. We did not want
to leave you alone after that."

Gildor winced. "Was I that loud?"

Elladan just shrugged. Gildor closed his eyes for a moment. How awfully embarrassing and
utterly humiliating! He was genuinely grateful he had not at any rate gone to bed naked,
as was his wont. Elrohir touched his shoulder gently.

"Gildor, you do not have to put up a brave front for us. We won't think less of you even
if you admit that you are not invulnerable."

Gildor looked up and a faint smile touched his lips. It seemed Elrohir had inherited his
father's wisdom.

"Thank you," he said simply. "I am grateful for your care, I truly am. But I am fine and
safe now so you can leave me and return to your rooms."

The twins made their way back down the hidden staircase. When they emerged from behind
the tapestry in the family wing, they suddenly heard a loud gasp and saw a maid with a
pile of linen in her hands further along the passage. She watched, wide-eyed, as the
young Lords of Imladris, dressed only in low-sitting silk sleeping pants, crossed the
corridor and disappeared behind the door to their suite.

"Did we make such a stunning sight?" Elladan asked laughingly when they entered the room.

Elrohir chuckled. "What do you think she saw?"

"Two gorgeous males?"

"Certainly. What else?"

"Two scantily dressed gorgeous males?"

"Yes. But that's not all."

"Sneaking back in the morning?"

"Yes. From Gildor's wing."

"And…?"

"And his previous lover is gone."

"Oh... Do you think we've set the mills of gossip working?"

"We most definitely have."

They looked at each other. Then Elladan shrugged. "Well, it won't be the first time. I
hope Gildor will not mind it too much."


The twins spent the first part of the day in the forge. They enjoyed working with metal,
moulding it into things their imagination created. They loved the heat coming from the
furnace and the heavy weight of hammers in their hands; the ringing sound, with which
said hammers hit the anvil and the hot bright sparkles that flew from under them.

They had just finished a tall girandole for their father's study. They had been working
on it for a long time and now they were examining it carefully to see if there were any
faults in their creation. At this moment the door to the forge opened and Gildor walked
in.

"Gildor!" they exclaimed together, glad to see he was strong enough to get out of his
room.

"How do you feel?" Elrohir asked then in concern.

"I am fine," Gildor replied tersely, rolling up his sleeve. Then he stretched his arm and
commanded, "Take it off!"

The twins looked at the silver bracelet on his wrist.

"We'll have to break it to do it," Elladan warned him.

"Do whatever you must, just take it off," Gildor said impatiently.

The halves of the bracelet were sundered apart in a matter of minutes. Gildor gave a
little sigh of relief and turned to leave.

"Wait!" Elladan stopped him. "What should I do with this?" He showed him the silver
plates.

"I do not care." Gildor closed the door behind himself.

Elladan looked vindictively at the remnants of Haldir's present, threw them on the anvil
and picked up his hammer.

"No!" Elrohir said suddenly. "I'll take that."

Elladan turned around, surprised. "What? Why?"

"He might want it back one day."

Elladan's eyes narrowed. "No way!"

"El, give that to me. Now!"

Elrohir rarely spoke in that sort of voice but when he did, Elladan never dared argue
with him.

"As you wish." Elladan moved aside and Elrohir picked up the parts of the bracelet and
tucked them away into his pocket.


Gildors was leaning his elbows on the railing of his terrace, watching the Sun slide down
slowly and disappear behind the tops of the tall trees. He rubbed his wrist
absentmindedly: it felt oddly bare without the broad band of his bracelet. Gildor sighed.
He had to get used to the fact that emptiness would be a part of his life from now on. He
buried his face in his hands, suddenly overwhelmed by a wave of despair.

‘Why, Haldir? Why? Why did you have to go away? Why could I not be enough? What is so
wrong with me? What do I lack? What did I do wrong that you could not be happy with me?'

The pain he was suffering was excruciating. He could feel his heart break into thousand
pieces and each of those pieces was bleeding. Gildor wished he could cry but tears would
not come and his eyes remained dry. He knew that if he wanted to preserve his sanity, he
should stop thinking of Haldir and everything connected with Haldir. It was too painful
yet. The best thing for him to do was to push those thoughts and questions into the
farthest corner of his mind and leave them there until he was strong enough to bring them
out, to analyze them rationally and to find the answers he needed so badly. But not now,
definitely not now… Valar, would there ever be time when he would be able to think of all
that calmly?


Elladan and Elrohir were sitting on the floor with their backs against the wall on both
sides of Gildor's door. They were keeping watch, waiting for something that they dreaded
but somehow knew that it would come…

When the next morning Gildor woke up between the twins again, he was not surprised and
did not ask any questions. But it took him several nights more to resign himself to the
inevitable and to move to the twins' bed. He preferred to sleep in their room for that
way he was able to slip away in the morning and give the twins a chance to wake up in
each other's arms and to have some quality time together without a lodger in their bed.

Gildor started training, his strength and his skills returning to him quickly. He
informed Elrond of his wish to give up his rank of Captain of the guard and to ride out
orc hunting with the twins. Elrond was not overjoyed with Gildor's decision but he was
wise enough to understand that at the moment such a drastic change in his life style was
perhaps the best thing for Gildor. The less chance the Vanya had to dwell on his loss,
the quicker he would be able to overcome it. So Elrond gave Gildor his permission but
told him that he regarded his resignation only as temporary one. Gildor shrugged and did
not waste time on arguing.

So one early August morning Gildor left Imladris in company of the twins to seek the cure
for his heartbreak.



Chapter 11. Pain Management.



Haldir

Amarion watched Haldir do his hunting routine like he watched him do it many evenings
during these three years since Haldir's return from Imladris. Actually Haldir did not
have to do much. He just surveyed ellith and ellyn around him appraisingly and his
potential bedmates held their breaths hopefully. Though all of them knew that it most
probably would not be more than a one night stay, they were still drawn to Haldir like
moths to fire. Each of his casual lovers hoped secretly that he or she would be the one
to break Haldir's self-imposed rule of not getting involved in a relationship. Amarion
felt sorry for them for theirs were futile hopes: Haldir did not do relationships any
more.


When Haldir came back to Lórien after his one year's stay in Imladris, Amarion did not
notice anything amiss about him at first. True, his friend was quieter and less jovial
than he used to be but it was understandable: he had just ended up a relationship after
all. He said it had not worked out for Gildor and him but refused to elaborate. Amarion
was living with Narmacil by then and his lover, who had known Gildor for many millennia,
was not surprised by Haldir's quick return. He said Gildor had never been one for long
relationships. Though Narmacil admitted that Gildor had seemed infatuated with Haldir
before they left for Imladris, he was inclined to think that it had been just the wrong
impression Gildor allowed them to have.

Haldir fell back into his old ways easily. He once again led his patrol as Marchwarden
and divided his free time between his numerous friends and even more numerous lovers. If
the former were happy to welcome him back, the latter were absolutely ecstatic for they
had been mourning his loss ever since Gildor had taken him away from Lórien and off the
market. Haldir seemed to revel in the attention and it was a rare night that he would go
to bed alone.

Amarion was amused at first, thinking that Haldir was making up for the time he had spent
in monogamy. But then he started noticing that there *were* changes in his friend after
all. He was still a flirt and a rake and his notorious charm was still irresistible but
it had lost its sunny, carefree quality as if some shroud enveloped Haldir, dimming his
inner glow, making him colder and harder, less open and more cynic. Amarion thought he
could see something familiar in Haldir's behaviour. But it took him some time to realize
that in fact Haldir was acting in very much the same way Amarion had seen Gildor do when
the Vanya was in Lórien. Amarion did not like that.

He watched the endless train of Haldir's bedmates, trying to understand what his friend
was striving to find in their arms or perhaps what he was so eager to escape. It looked
suspiciously like he was afraid to remain alone and felt safe only if someone else was
around. It was not like the Haldir Amarion had known before. Obviously his love affair
with Gildor had affected him more than he was willing to reveal. Amarion knew for sure
that his assumption was correct after a scene he happened to witness three or four months
after Haldir's return.

He was spending an evening with Haldir and Rúmil in the Silver Goblet. The tavern was
overcrowded that night. All was well until Amarion noticed that Haldir was listening with
a frown to the conversation taking place at the nearby table, occupied by a large and
noisy company. One of the elves was Celeg, who served as a messenger to the Lord and the
Lady and who appeared to have just returned from Imladris. He was sharing news with his
companions. Amarion's attention was alerted by the sound of Gildor's name.

"That elf is insatiable," Celeg said laughingly. "One lover at a time is no longer enough
for him. He must have two at once to please him. And the notorious princes of Imladris,
no less. But then, who could blame him? Anyone would wish to be meat in that kind of
sandwich."

The next moment Haldir was on his feet. He grabbed Celeg by his tunic and slammed him
into the wall.

"How dare you!" he hissed at him. "How dare you speak so of him! It's none of your
business what he does and with whom!"

Celeg was so stunned and Haldir looked so ominous that Celeg thought it wise not to argue
with him. It took Amarion and Rúmil quite an effort to drag Haldir away.

Haldir's passionate display set Amarion thinking. Apparently Haldir still cared for
Gildor. But why had he left him then? He went to question Orophin but Haldir's eldest
brother knew no more than Amarion, only that Haldir claimed to be the one to have ended
his relationship with Gildor and bristled up at every mention of Gildor's name. Orophin
said there was no surer way to raise his brother's hackles than to speak to him about his
former lover. Amarion decided to have an experiment and to see for himself how bad it
actually was.

One warm afternoon Haldir and he took their horses to the stream to bathe them and as
they were chatting about this and that, Amarion said casually, "Do you know Gildor was
badly wounded shortly after you left?"

Haldir grew instantly quiet and tense but Amarion pretended he did not notice and went
on, "The twins found him hardly alive and brought him back to Imladris. Elrond managed to
save him and after that Gildor gave up his rank of Captain to hunt yrch with the
princes." [orcs]

"Amarion," Haldir said flatly, "I did not ask you to tell me that."

Amarion shrugged nonchalantly. "I thought you would be interested."

"Well, I am not."

After that Amarion had to do all the talking on his own.


Amarion woke up from his daydreaming and saw that Haldir had finished another bottle of
wine. That was another thing that worried Amarion to no end: Haldir had been drinking a
lot lately. Though, to give Haldir his due, it never affected his performance of his
duties. He was an even more efficient Marchwarden than before, if that was possible,
though much more demanding. And he was definitely a more accomplished swordsman now.
Amarion had seen him beat Orophin spectacularly. And Orophin was one of the best
swordmasters in Lórien.

Haldir put down his goblet and Amarion recognized the expression on his friend's face:
Haldir had chosen a bedmate for the night. Amarion followed the direction of his stare
and frowned.

"Narthan? Haldir, this is appalling! He is but a child."

"He is past his majority," Haldir argued.

"Ten or twenty years, no more. He hardly can pass for an adult."

"I do not think he will agree with you on that," Haldir smirked, still gazing at the
young elf.

Narthan had green eyes and hair that had a golden tint to it. Haldir gave him a slight
nod of invitation and the youngster blushed with pleasure.

"I am ready to leave," Haldir announced. "Are you staying?"

"No." Amarion rose to his feet as well. "I must be off. Narmacil is leaving for Mirkwood
tomorrow early in the morning to deliver Lord Celeborn's dispatch."

"Oh, so you are going home to give him something to remember you by?" Haldir asked archly
as they moved to the door.

"Exactly," Amarion replied, unfazed.

Narthan followed them out into the street and walked some distance behind them as they
made their way to their talans. Amarion glanced over his shoulder uncomfortably.

"I still think you should not take to your bed elves that young, Haldir."

"And why is that?" Haldir smirked but his smirk lacked sparkle. He seemed to be in
somewhat less high spirits now and Amarion decided that the wine Haldir had consumed
started to affect him at last.

"Why?" Amarion sighed. "Because at that age one is overly romantic and tends to consider
every tryst as the beginning of a life-long relationship. He can easily fall in love with
you and get hurt afterwards as a consequence."

Haldir gave him a scornful look. "Do you truly believe there is something in me to fall
in love with?"

"Even as little as your pretty face could be enough at his young age," Amarion retorted.

Haldir shrugged. "It is his choice anyway. It is not like I am dragging him to my bed by
force, is it?"

"What are you *doing*, Haldir?" Amarion asked, driven almost to frustration by Haldir's
attitude. "Why have you become so heartless?"

"What am I doing?" Haldir stopped and turned to face his friend. He suddenly looked dead
tired, even sick. "I don't know… Coping... Surviving... "

Amarion saw the wild turmoil of feelings in Haldir's eyes. Instinctively he took a step
towards his friend. Haldir curled his hand around Amarion's neck and pulled him closer,
pressing their foreheads together.

"But you are right about one thing, Mari: I am heartless. Because I have no heart any
more."

"What happened to it?" Amarion asked softly.

Haldir closed his eyes for a moment and sighed. "Maybe I lost it. Or maybe it was broken…
It's just not there any longer. There is a gaping hole in the place where my heart used
to be."

Amarion swallowed a lump in his throat. "You are drunk, Haldir," he whispered. "Drunk and
emotional."

Haldir pulled away and shook his head. "Drunk? Watch me."

He easily walked the rope that was strung between two platforms. Amarion held his breath:
Haldir had been drinking rather heavily that evening. But Haldir did not swing even once.
He stopped in front of Amarion again.

"No, meldir, I am not drunk. I am never drunk enough these days… Have a good night,
Mari."

Haldir climbed the stairs to the platform of his talan where Narthan was waiting for him
patiently. He opened the door and ushered the young elf inside. Then he threw one last
glance over his shoulder at his friend and disappeared behind the door to his house.
Amarion sighed and headed for his own home.


Haldir woke up at dawn. He moved away from the warm body pressing to his own, rolled over
and looked at his current bedmate. Green eyes, clouded with reverie, mussed golden hair,
youthful face – and right there the similarity ended. Where Gildor *looked* young,
Narthan *was* young with all the ensuing consequences… In no way could he equal Gildor,
but then no one could… Haldir had no illusions about that. He had not been trying to find
a *new* love among all those elves going through his bed; he had been trying to forget
the *old* one. He was able to manage it, even if for a short time, losing himself in the
body of yet another bedmate, as he was able to relieve the pain he still felt by blocking
out everything but the moment. Not to think, not to remember, not to regret…

But it was impossible not to think and not to remember. Each time he made love, he
imagined it was Gildor in bed with him. He even had to learn to bite back his climax cry
after several embarrassing times when Gildor's name spilled from his lips traitorously.
However, the brutal reality of his present life never let him out of its clutches
completely: even at the moment of his climax he was acutely aware of the difference
between ‘now' and ‘before'. No one could match Gildor, let alone surpass him. Every time
disappointment would come as aftermath, then hopelessness and despair.

Haldir stopped taking ellyn to his bed, hoping that this way he would be able not to
think about Gildor and not to compare his current bedmate with his former lover. But it
felt even more wrong with ellith. It was hopeless: Gildor had spoiled him for everyone
else.

The problem was that Haldir could not stop bringing lovers to his bed because every
single night he spent alone he would dream of Gildor and of what they had shared. Those
were poignant dreams and in the morning Haldir would feel sick with pain and longing, his
hardly healed wounds bleeding anew. He had tried all the methods to get rid of those
visions. He spent long hours on the training grounds, wearing himself out to the point of
numbness; he took double shifts at the border; he drank the strongest wine by bottles.
But neither exhaustion nor hard work nor liquor could exorcise Gildor from his dreams.
The only means that guaranteed him a dreamless night was sex. So he had a lot of that. He
would take a lover to his bed, do the job, earn his sound sleep and then wake up in the
morning with a cold void in place of his heart.

Several times during his first few months at home Haldir was within an ace from going
back to Imladris. But then Amarion told him that Gildor was no longer there. Haldir was
shocked to learn that Gildor had left his patrol in order to be with the twins. It really
hurt him to realize how deeply Gildor must care for them to give up so much for their
sake. He knew then that it was a point of no return and now there was truly no hope for
him and no way back…

Haldir did not tell anyone about the reasons for his split-up with Gildor. Neither did he
reveal how hard it was for him to deal with it. He knew Orophin would tell him he had
warned him from the very beginning and he would be right, of course. Rúmil would get
angry for his sake and would blame Gildor for everything, and Haldir wanted that least of
all. And Amarion…

Haldir saw considerably less of his best friend now that Amarion had a lover. Besides,
Haldir had a suspicion that Narmacil, being of Noldorin nobility himself, had not
approved of him as Gildor's mate. The twins were a much better match in this respect as
they were princes and Noldorin princes at that. Haldir was not sure his suspicion was
grounded but he preferred to spend time with Amarion when his friend did not have his
Noldorin lover with him. But to be completely sincere, there was one more reason why it
was hard for Haldir to see them together. No matter how Narmacil felt about Haldir, he
did care for Amarion. Only a blindman would fail to notice it. It was painful for Haldir
to witness their happiness as it reminded him with acute intensity of what he had lost.

No, Haldir did not talk to anyone. He tried to cope with everything on his own. But at
times, when it became unbearably difficult, he would allow himself a moment of weakness,
stay alone for the night and let Gildor into his dreams. He would see him, beautiful,
wild, passionate; his feline green eyes ablaze, the waves of his golden hair streaming
down his bare shoulders and back. He would hear him whisper endearments and cry out his
name in passion. He would feel Gildor's hands on his skin and his breath on his lips. He
would dream of being incased in the hot body that welcomed his invasion and squeezed him
tighter than a fist, demanding from him everything Haldir could give. And then Haldir
would wake up, hard and aching. He never was granted completion in his dreams. But he
would still feel Gildor's lingering presence and he would bring himself to climax, crying
out Gildor's name.

Such nights made his life seem even more intolerable and bleak. He would seek oblivion
and begin the vicious circle anew.


Haldir sighed, sat up in his bed and shook Narthan by the shoulder. "Time to get up."

Narthan blinked at him sleepily. "It is way too early yet," he whined.

"No, it is not." Haldir swung his legs over the side of the bed, stood up and stretched.
"Surely you want to get home before your Nana wakes up to find out you did not spend the
night at home." [Mom]

"Are you kicking me out?" Narthan inquired, sitting up.

Haldir found a bathrobe and put it on. "That is too blunt a way to put it."

Narthan watched Haldir tie the belt. "I take it we won't be doing it again?"

"You are a very intelligent young elf."

Narthan bit his lip. "I just wonder what you will do when you have slept with every
eligible elf here. Will you start on a second round?"

Haldir looked at him with barely concealed irritation. "Could we discuss my plans for the
future some other time, please?"

"I think, Haldir, the one you are looking for is not in Lórien."

Haldir's eyes became hard. "I am off to my bath," he announced. "And you are off to your
home."

Narthan winced at the bang with which the door to the bathroom shut behind Haldir.


Gildor

Gildor, Elladan and Elrohir were heading for Imladris. There was only a week left before
the Solstice and Elrond had asked them to be home for the holiday. To travel the roads of
Eriador was not as dangerous now as it had been four or five years ago. The three
warriors had to really *hunt* orcs nowadays instead of just riding out of the borders of
their realm.

The twins were in high spirits, anticipating the rest and fun they were going to have at
home. As their horses trotted merrily through the summer forest, they talked to each
other about this and that. They were used by now to Gildor being mostly silent and did
not try to engage him in their discussions any longer. Elladan seemed to be in a
philosophical mood.

"Can you believe orcs were elves once?" he asked his brother. "No matter how hard I try,
I cannot find even a trace of resemblance left between our species."

"How about pointy ears?" Elrohir offered jokingly.

Elladan snorted. "Hobbits have pointy ears too. Were they also elves once?"

"Perhaps," Elrohir smirked. "Then for some reason they had to starve for a long time and
thus shrank to half-size."

"And they eat so much now because they still remember the Great Hunger," Elladan
developed his brother's theory even further.

"Exactly."

"Uh huh. And how will you explain their hairy feet, you wiseacre?"

"Er… " Elrohir failed to come up with an answer to that at once.

"No, seriously, Ro, do you think it is still possible? I mean, to distort an elf into an
orc?"

But Elrohir refused to be serious. "You would make the prettiest orc I've ever seen,
tôren," he teased. "And I would hunt you down and make you beg for mercy." [my brother]

That shattered Elladan's contemplative mood completely. "You? Ha! What makes you think
you would be the one to do the hunting? Maybe it would be me. Imagine all the horrible
dirty things I would do to you when I got you."

"Like what?" Elrohir inquired interestedly.

Gildor listened to the twins with a half ear. He was used to their bawdy banter. It did
not bother him. As it did not bother him any more to wake up with an arousal pressed to
his thigh or to both thighs if they had a chance to spend the night somewhere safe enough
for the three of them to sleep at once. His own body had not woken up even once since
Haldir had left him five years ago. He had died then and what walked Arda now was no more
than an empty shell. He had found to his dismay that to get himself killed was more
difficult than he had believed it to be. He was unwilling to bare his throat for just any
orc blade and he had not met his match so far. He did not know what orcs saw in his eyes
but they would quiver and flee as often as they would fight. Gildor wondered if he should
have fallen on his sword in the very beginning instead of chasing his death, which had
proved to be so evasive.

Gildor sighed, lost in thoughts. No, the twins' unbridled sexuality did not bother him.
What *did* bother him though was the fact that he was constantly in their way and
interfered with their private life. He still woke up screaming if no one guarded his
sleep. The twins took care of him as if he were their brother, and a younger brother at
that. He was infinitely grateful to them but he felt bad about his inability to cope with
his demons on his own and being a burden to his friends.

From the corner of his eye Gildor saw a small object flying his way. His reflexes took
over at once and he beat it off with his bracer. Elladan ducked the crab apple he had
plucked from a nearby tree and flung at Gildor.

Ever so watchful, he teased the Vanya, grinning. Never off-guard.

"Never," Gildor confirmed calmly. "There is a group of mortals ahead."

The twins grew alert at once.

"It is not large," Gildor reassured them. "And I do not think they are dangerous."

It turned out to be a family of farmers who had stopped for the night a little distance
off the road. The head of the family rose from his place by the fire when he saw three
warriors of the Old Folk ride out of the forest. He was not worried, though: they lived
close enough to the valley of Rivendell and the Elves were more than just a legend to
them. But still they did not see the Old Folk too often and his children stared at the
fair creatures open-mouthed.

Gildor kept back and scrutinized the humans while Elladan greeted them in the Common
Tongue. Besides the head of the family and his wife there were four children around the
fire: two boys of about eighteen and ten and two girls of fourteen and five. They were
looking at the twins and him with awe and fascination. Obviously, the family was
traveling to the nearest town for the summer fair for there was a loaded cart under the
tree and a sturdy little horse was grazing nearby.

The man, whose name was Borric, invited the elves to spend the night by their fire.
Elladan looked at Gildor and the Vanya gave a little shrug: they were going to stop
somewhere for the night anyway so they could just as well accept Borric's invitation.

Borric's wife offered them shyly to try the stew she had made and the twins accepted the
filled bowls from her gratefully, even if a little hesitantly.

"Do I want to know what can be in there?" Elladan murmured.

Elrohir jabbed him in the ribs with his elbow and turned to Gildor who shook his head
slightly when offered a plate with food.

"You should take at least a little," Elrohir told him in Sindarin in his best Elrond-like
instructive tone.

"I am not hungry," Gildor dismissed him.

"You have not eaten anything the whole day!"

"Ro, I said I am not hungry. I think I shall go and have a swim instead." Gildor nodded
his head in the direction of the murmuring sound of the water.

"Are you sure it is safe?" Elladan asked.

"Yes."

Gildor shucked off his jerkin and tunic, leaving on only his leggings and his thin shirt,
and disappeared behind the trees. He did not have to go far. He stopped by the water and
shed the rest of his clothes. Then he undid his braid and ran his fingers through his
hair, massaging his scalp. He felt tired, even weary. What he badly needed was a good hot
bath and a shoulder rub from a professional. He was so lost in thought that he did not
hear the footsteps. He was jerked back to reality by the sound of a twig snapping. He
reacted with lightning speed, snatching a dagger from his clothes and swirling around.
But what he saw was no enemy but Borric's elder son, looking stunned and frightened.

"What do you think you are doing?" Gildor growled at him. "Sneaking up like that! Never
do that again!"

Gildor was angry at himself for being caught unawares and his voice sounded harsher than
he intended.

The boy swallowed, his eyes glued to Gildor's weapon. "I didn't… I wouldn't… I just… "

The white of his face was quickly replaced by violent red. Gildor sighed.

"Well, never do *that* either. Now go back to your family."

The boy nodded, his cheeks and ears burning, turned on his heel and fled.


The twins watched with amusement as Borric's eldest slipped away only to return a short
time after, looking embarrassed and guilty. But at least he came back in one piece and in
dry clothes too. It meant Gildor was in a fairly good mood and had not even tossed the
insolent youngster into the river for spying upon him bathing. They did not make any
comments though: the boy looked miserable enough as it was.

They were telling their hosts about the lands they had visited when Gildor finally
reappeared in the glade. He was carrying his shirt in his hand, his damp hair sticking to
his bare shoulders and chest. He sat down with his back against a tree a little away from
the fire.

"Are you still not hungry?" Elrohir asked him.

"No." Gildor closed his eyes.

Elladan stared at him for some time, enjoying the sight. He had almost forgotten how
beautiful Gildor looked with his hair down. His golden mane seemed to shine in the
dancing light of the fire. It turned out he was not the only one fascinated by the
picture. Borric's little girl sidled up to Gildor and stroked his soft tresses with her
small hand.

Elladan sighed theatrically. "What is it that we lack and that just any Goldilocks seems
to have that all the girls around are drawn to them so inevitably?"

"And boys too," Elrohir laughed.

Gildor shot them a look but did not take the trouble to respond.

"Mala, come back," the girl's mother called, afraid that the intimidating silent elf
could be annoyed by her little daughter's intrusion.

"Let her be," Gildor told her. "She is no bother."

Mala felt encouraged and grew bolder. She climbed into Gildor's lap and made herself
comfortable. He cradled her in his arms, talking to her quietly. She put her head on his
chest, enchanted by his melodious voice. The twins exchanged a glance: they had not seen
anything of the kind since Arwen's childhood. Then they resumed their conversation with
the rest of the family, leaving Gildor to enjoy the company of the little lady.

Elladan was telling the boys about the fight with giant spiders his brother and he had
had once in the forests of Mirkwood when he suddenly paused in the middle of a sentence.
He could not believe his ears. He turned his head Gildor's way and saw that his hearing
had not failed him: Gildor was singing! True, it was very soft and sounded more like
humming than a proper song. But it was the first time Gildor was doing it since the time
before his split-up with Haldir. The twins smiled at each other: that girl seemed to be a
real Valarsend.

Very soon Gildor's little companion was fast asleep, lulled by his voice, and her mother
came to collect her. Gildor handed her over carefully and saw Elladan grinning at him.

"You know, Arassuil is right," the elder twin said teasingly. "Why don't you marry and
have your own children?"

"Why don't *you*?" Gildor retorted. "After all you are the Crown Prince and are
responsible for producing an heir to the throne."

Elladan laughed. "I'm afraid I won't produce any heir. Unless, of course, Ro is willing
to bear me one. What would you say, Ro?"

"I would say: go to Mordor."

"Oh." Elladan turned back to Gildor. "I do not think he likes the idea. So Ada will have
to look to Arwen for that."

Gildor shook his head and set about to comb his hair, which had got dried and tangled.
Elrohir watched him pull and tug on his strands till he could stand it no more.

"Oh, let me do it!" he exclaimed, taking the comb away from Gildor.

His skillful hands did the work fast but gently.

"Let me make several braids," he asked.

"No, just one."

Elrohir sighed but obeyed. That was one more thing that they had quitted arguing with
Gildor about.

"Go have a swim," Gildor offered when Elrohir was done. "There is a good place for
bathing over there. I'll make sure that no one follows *you*."

The twins laughed.

"Oh, did you mind it then?" Elladan asked. "We thought you could actually like him."

"I don't do children, El, and humans at that."

"You don't do anyone nowadays."

"It is none of your business. Now make yourself sparse, could you?"

"All right, all right, I am taking him away already!" Elrohir laughed. "But it can take
us a while. Swimming, I mean. Do not fall asleep without us."

Though Elrohir's request sounded playful, there was a shadow of concern in his eyes.

"I won't. I do not feel like sleeping at all," Gildor said. "Just go."

It did take them a while and when they returned, they looked like they had thoroughly
enjoyed themselves or to be more exact – each other. Gildor was the only one awake in the
camp by that time. The twins joined him by the fire. Elladan sat down by Gildor's side
and Elrohir stretched out on the grass and put his head in his brother's lap. For a long
time all three of them watched the dancing flames silently, Elladan's hand absentmindedly
stroking up and down Elrohir's bare arm. Suddenly Gildor spoke.

"Sometimes I wish I had a twin," he said softly.

"A twin?" Elladan turned his head in surprise and Elrohir rolled over and raised himself
on his elbows to look up at Gildor. "Why wish for one twin when you can have two any time
you like and in any way you like?"

A faint smile touched Gildor's lips in gratefulness for Elladan's attempt to raise his
low spirits.

"No, El. This is *your* bond. I cannot share it even if I wanted to. No, I wish I could
have my own. But that is too much to ask, I am afraid."

"You know what?" Elrohir propped his head on his hand. "If you cannot share our twin-
bond, I shall allow you to marry El. In this way you will have both: a twin and a bond of
your own. How about that?"

This time Gildor almost laughed. "I told you I do not do children."

"You said you do not do human children and we are only half human," Elrohir grinned.

A warm wave of gratitude flooded Gildor's heart. "Valar, what would I do without you? I
really love you. You do know that, don't you?"

"Yes, we do," Elladan said, wrapping his arm around Gildor's shoulders. "But it is still
good to hear you say that."


Ithil looked down, frowning in confusion and concern. From his place in the sky he could
see both, Lórien and the road to Imladris and he was puzzled by the complex nature of the
Firstborn. He himself was doomed to chase the fiery maid of Arnor and not to be able to
get close to her, not till the end of the world. But why those two elves chose to stay
apart of their free will was beyond his grasp.