Title: Triskelion: Torque Pairing: Haldir/Rumil Rating: NC-17 Warnings: Incest. Summary: Not all is fair in Lorien. Disclaimer: Tolkien's, not mine. No infringement intended and no money made. Notes: Bookverse. Prequels are Sightless (Haldir/Legolas) and Cordial (Rumil/Legolas). I have chosen to spell Rumil's name without the apostrophe, as it tends to screw with the encoding. Archive: Please ask and ye shall receive. Feedback: Please. archer@friction.net Thank you to my fantastic betas Darkie and Mitzi for keeping me going, and special hugs and thanks to Darkie for her endless patience. [// indicates italics] -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- //All too well do I see them.// The mistakes irked and mocked Legolas as much as the chill he felt did. It was a hollow blessing that he had seen neither Haldir nor Rumil since they had parted ways on their less than favourable terms. Still, it seemed as though ill news travelled faster than the wind, as all other Elves he had met on his way had regarded him with cool disdain. Looking down, he noted the haphazardly closed clasps of his tunic, and began opening and correcting them, his fingers still feeling numb. "Yet what would he plot? I ended his game - I foiled it! He cannot still be plotting," Legolas said, raising his gaze to look at Gimli. "A simple defeat will not deter him. He will persist." Gimli nodded slightly, his dark eyes serious. Something in his composure made Legolas irritated despite the obvious truth of his words, and he straightened up. "I do not hold much to the way in which you speak of my kin. Yes, they have tricked, yet that I may forgive. I do not slander all Dwarves when I hold a grudge to you," he said, wondering at how his voice seemed to lack spite. There was, in truth, anger coursing through his veins, anger and a jarring discord brought on by the multiple betrayals. Yet, he felt powerless, even reluctant, to do anything. It was as though he did not want to believe a place as fair as Lothlorien could hold so much hidden malice. "Were you older, you would see, friend Legolas. You cannot trust all those who are like you." Gimli paused, a strange look flickering for a fraction of a second over the worn features. "Words may be gilded. You know this." "Those are worn-out words, Gimli. I am no child, nor a fool. I have seen my measure of deceit," Legolas said, angered at how Gimli dismissed him as half-grown. All through the journey, his companions seemed to judge him on his appearance, treating him like a mere youth. And here, among his kin, he was likewise dismissed. "Yet you have not learned from it. You fall for old schemes." Inclining his head, Gimli rose and walked away. Listening to the heavy tread fade away, Legolas rested his head in his hands. He would find no rest this night, for the words of the Lady rose now to the surface of his thoughts, disturbing him further. //Nay, Legolas, it is not your fault alone that the Quest is threatened, yet your deeds, as those of your companions, all affect it.// -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- On his way through Caras Galadhon, Haldir found his mind erring onto paths he felt wrong to take. He had been avoiding the Fellowship, partly because he had been hindered by duty, but also because he did not wish to face Legolas again. Thinking of his deeds only seemed to worsen the guilt, and the memories sharpened further as he tried to put them out of his mind. It had not been lust alone that had driven him to seduce the prince, nor had it been a wish to see how far he could lead the younger Elf. There was something more sinister to it all, and before he lay bare the reason, he would find no rest. Yet, he asked himself, how could two so conflicting wishes - one to see what the guilt was, and another to forget it all - both lead him to the same end, an end that was confusing and wrong? //Why does my mind err to thinking about Rumil? He has had no part in this.// "Haldir?" Rumil's voice alerted him to look up. "You are deep in thought indeed not to notice me." The younger Elf smiled. "Whatever is troubling you, I suggest you lay it to rest as you guard, lest it clouds your eyes." "It is nothing," Haldir hastily said, stepping around his brother, eager to be on his way. There was a note of urgency in his voice, of haste he did not have and of worry he did not wish to voice, and he saw Rumil's brow furrow in wonder. "Is all well with you, brother?" Rumil asked, tilting his head. "You are discontent with something. Did the prince refuse your advances?" he teased, another smile lighting his features. The smile quickly faded as Haldir kept silent, and the look was soon replaced with one of worry. "Brother?" Rumil tried, and Haldir found he had no answer. Quickly turning, he strode away, ashamed for once again fleeing his troubles. He knew well enough Rumil would respect his wish not to speak, and yet he felt pained for leaving. He was running like a coward, thinking he could end his troubles simply by putting distance between himself and those he did not wish to face. //You are a coward,// he rebuked himself as he walked the shaded path to his guard post. //You cannot flee forever.// -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Elves were not blind in the darkness like Men were. Haldir could well see Orophin, yet he thought it was because Orophin was not making an effort to shield himself. Haldir turned his head, meeting Orophin's gaze for an agonizingly long moment, then closed his eyes. "You should not scout when you are not on duty, brother," he said, leaning his head into his hands briefly, raking his hair back. "When have you ever rebuked me for guarding?" Orophin asked, keeping his distance. "This rebuke is but spared for the times when you do not guard out of duty on the telain of the borderlands. Keen are your eyes to see unrest that means war, but blind to the subtler strife." Haldir shook his head slowly, as though he was trying to shake an unpleasant image. "Blind to what gnaws at the spirit." "That is why I came to talk to you," Orophin said, relaxing his stance slightly. "I know something is amiss. I wish you would tell me what it is, so that I will not have to cull out from hearsay what eats at you. Something is very ill." Haldir did not reply, and kept his head down, avoiding Orophin's gaze. He did not fidget, nor rise to protests, and that stillness aroused more fear in Orophin than outright denial would have. Stepping close, then crouching down next to his brother, Orophin laid his hand lightly on Haldir's shoulder. "I have my suspicions of what this secret is, yet I wish to hear it from you and not have it twisted by travel." He paused, seeking to arrange his next words into an order that would not offend or startle. "I know you love Rumil. Indeed, it would be alarming if you did not -- but that love would do well in staying within what is proper for those who are kin. It --" he faltered, seeking words anew, "is not proper. Yet, I know I cannot hinder what is destined. I can only offer warning." Haldir abruptly turned, dislodging Orophin's hold. Panic flickered in his gaze as he rose to his feet quickly. "I know not what you are talking about." "Brother, do not lie to me. I have known you for all your life, and I know when you are not speaking the full truth," Orophin said, rising and settling his hand on Haldir's shoulder to keep him in place. "You know me too well," Haldir finally said, standing still and meeting Orophin's gaze levelly. There was a long moment of silence between the brothers, and Orophin did not press Haldir for answers. The slow realization had been an alarming surprise for him as well; an uncoiling of a secret he felt was far too arcane to even exist. It had been hundreds of years since the last couple too close of kin had been known, and that affair had ended in misery for both parts. Yet he knew that hindering the progression of love would likely cause both of his brothers to fall into despair. And if they died... he did not even wish to finish the thought. It was a cruel fate that Elves could be slain by a broken heart as easily as with the hard steel of a blade. "I did not wish for this to happen," Haldir said suddenly. "I did not wish for any of this. Neither for the mistake I made of seeking out the prince, nor for..." He looked away, closing his eyes as if the very forming of the words hurt him. "Nor for lusting after my own brother." There was another long silence, but Orophin waited it out patiently. "I do not think I can ever tell him," Haldir went on. "I would never wish this same pain on him. Rather I suffer than his mind be burdened with my madness." "I do not want both of you to suffer," Orophin interrupted. "You must tell him. He will sense you are troubled by his presence." Haldir gave a short and bitter laugh, shaking his head. "He has sensed it already. If my ill luck is as malicious as I think it to be, he already knows how base my thoughts are." Grasping Orophin's hand, Haldir broke the hold and turned to leave. "Keep my words to yourself, brother. I have caught myself in this net, and it is my place alone to find a solution." -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Footfalls, soft but loud enough to be clearly heard, startled Legolas out of his reverie. Orophin stopped at a respectful distance, even giving a slight bow. "My prince--" "I will guess your intent," Legolas interrupted, not caring to polish off the venom in his voice. " You come to talk, do you not? You wish only to trade words -- or that you will have me think, until the moment you take or offer. Not words but bodies." He lifted his gaze, sizing up the grey-clad Warden in front of him. "You flatter me, Legolas," Orophin laughed. "I have a beloved. I do not need to seek comfort in travellers passing." He lifted his right hand, letting the light glitter briefly on a slender golden ring gracing his index finger. "Forgive me," Legolas demurred, feeling his face heat. "I--" "You expected as much from me, judging me by the conduct of my brothers. I do not hold you to blame for it. Two out of three is a majority, after all." Orophin had ceased smiling, though his words still sounded like jest. His face was grave as he laid his hand on Legolas's shoulder, ignoring the nervous twitch. "They are my brothers. I can deny them nothing; only try to stave their urges. We seldom see travellers, even those who are Elf-kind, and unfortunately my brothers are forever trying the borders of propriety. However, I have come to understand that not all is their doing." "I will admit my guilt," Legolas said, intending to lay the game bare and end the nagging shame. "Legolas, you misunderstand me," Orophin said, a shadow of sadness passing over his face like a veil. "I do not hold you guilty in the manner you think. It is far more complicated than so. Come walk with me. This is not a matter to be discussed where unwelcome ears can pry." The song that lingered in the woods seemed to fade, dispersing like mist as the two Elves walked further into the forest, their tread soundless on the mat of leaves. The cadences turned wan, the words vague now and not easily interpreted. "I would not divulge this if I did not think you would be able to help. I cannot say if Haldir or Rumil feels penance, yet I know what has driven Haldir to this. I fear you became nothing but an unlucky pawn in his game." "Do not speak in riddles," Legolas implored. "No doubt you feel Haldir more than Rumil has overstepped the borders of propriety. He has a reason, yet I hesitate to call it noble or even valid." Orophin's brow furrowed. "Though it may not seem so at first, these deeds were done out of love." "I find that manner of love exceedingly strange," Legolas said, eliciting a pained smile from Orophin. "So will most. It is not mere fraternal love." Legolas mulled over the words, turning them over in his mind as he tried to understand what Orophin had meant. Clearly the words were only a polished way of delivering a more sinister message. "You need not choose your words so carefully," he said. "Tell me outright." "Haldir loves Rumil as more than a brother," Orophin said, finally. The final realisation hit Legolas like a shock of cold water.// Not mere fraternal love.// It was nothing like he had thought, and indeed now that he had been made aware of the state of things, he wished nothing more than to be excluded from it. "But... it is not natural," he got out. "They are kin!" "I did not expect you to understand," Orophin said, his face sad and noble. "Perhaps it has been foolish of me to think you will aid me. Yet I have told you this so that you will not go forth from the Golden Wood in anger. Wrath does not benefit a wayfarer on a mission such as yours." As Legolas turned, intending to walk away, Orophin lowered his voice a step. "Do you know the truth of why Haldir took you blindfolded?" "It-- he was under order not to let us see..." Legolas stammered, stopping mid-step. To him, at least, it was the truth, as he had perceived it. As he wished to perceive it. "He did not wish to see who it truly was." The words cut Legolas more keenly than any blade. Orophin's face was calm, the dark eyes fixed on Legolas. "Why do you tell me this?" Legolas forced out, the words bitter on his tongue. "To make you see. You are caught in the middle." Orophin's gaze was steely. "And pray tell then, Orophin - what is your part in this? You spy, this has become clear, skulk in the shadows to gather knowledge you are not rightfully entitled to have. You claim it is out of caring for your brothers, yet I wonder how much is for your enjoyment in later moments." "You speak the bitter with honeyed tongue, princeling," Orophin said, his voice nearly shaking with anger, "and you are skilled at it. Yet your venom is false, and ill-advised. Have you not kin for whom you would do the same? Would you let your companions, nay, your siblings fall into dark despair when the solution is near at hand? It seems Thranduil has indeed raised a fool, and so Elrond's choice was an ill one. You are not suited to bear the responsibility." More sharp words burned on Legolas's tongue, yet he bit back on them. Orophin was facing him calmly, without intention to strike, and for a moment, Legolas felt as though he might be raising his hand against both Haldir and Rumil were he to go against Orophin, so great was the likeness. "Let us end this bickering," he said at length. "It is fruitless. Tell me what I must do and I will do it, if for no other reason than to prove to you that I am worth my word and no fool." Orophin looked visibly relieved, relaxing slightly where he stood. "Then forgive my harsh words. I spoke out of the trouble of my own heart. All I would have you do is speak to Haldir, make him see that neither he nor you are to blame for what befell. He blames himself, for his mind is conflicted. I can sense it, for our bond is as close as that of brothers is apt to be." "I would have him see that," Legolas confirmed, "for as much as he offered, I accepted, and as much as I yielded, he took. We are, then, both and neither to blame. It would seem I mistook his directness for honesty." Orophin clasped Legolas's shoulders, and rested his forehead against Legolas's for a short moment. "Thank you, cousin. I shall be in your debt." As Legolas looked into Orophin's dark eyes, he smiled sadly. The elder Elf gave short nod before leaving, heading in the direction of the great gates out of the City. Legolas found himself admiring Orophin's resolve. He had taken it upon himself to clear up the troubles Haldir had caused both himself and Legolas, all out of care for his younger sibling. //All out of care//-- and the step between care and love was very short, Legolas realized. He had indeed been nothing but a pawn in a twisted game, a game of bitter love. Haldir's chill, and Rumil's venomous words, both affairs ending in nothing but a numbing emptiness -- he realized he was truly caught in the middle. Rumil had not been merely protective, he had been jealous. Rising, Legolas decided he would have to seek out Haldir and tell him what he had realized. Better that he himself take the brunt of the ire than that the brothers become estranged. Their relation was too close, that was true, yet a smaller worry than deep discord between kin. -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- It was night-time, and the shadows grew deep at the feet of the mallorn- trees, untouched by the moonlight dappling the forest. Haldir held guard, walking his usual round, stopping now and then to listen for any sounds that might give away the presence of Orcs or other foul creatures. Ill had been present since the Fellowship had crossed the borders of the Golden Wood, and to him it seemed the peril grew deeper each night they lingered in Laurelindorenan. Nigh-silent footfalls nearby, their rhythm unfamiliar, made Haldir tense up, his fingers seeking the nock of an arrow. The wanderer was Elf-kind, thus much he could tell, and not one of the Wardens. Legolas. The woodland prince. As he had predicted, Legolas came walking between the trees, dressed in the silvery garments of Laurelindorenan, and lacking his bow. "You should not wander alone on the borderlands at night, young one," Haldir said, letting go of the arrow he had grasped, letting it slide back into the quiver at his side. "There are sinister creatures afoot." "You come unarmed," Haldir noted, unsure of Legolas's motive. He felt cornered, as a small animal might when surrounded by foxes and wolves. The trees whispered ill as he passed, and it seemed his vision was clouded. "I do not come to wage battle, neither with arrows nor words, Haldir. I come to ask forgiveness in part, and to hear your repentance. We are both to blame." "Orophin laid those words in your mouth," Haldir spat, turning away from Legolas. His fingers closed tightly on the grip of his bow, clenching once, paling the knuckles for a brief instant. "Too well do I know the tone of his speech and the manner of his wisdom. You are, truly, easily swayed." "If you would but listen to me, Haldir, then you would grow to understand the prudence of them. I do not hold myself to be blameless in this, yet neither are you. That is not all there is to it, however," Legolas's voice grew softer. "Whose face did you imagine you saw when you lay with me?" "What are you saying?" Haldir asked, hearing his voice come out a mere echo and whisper. "Those I will admit were the words of your brother, yet since I also in part was misled, I feel it is just for me to ask." There was a seeming confidence in Legolas's words, yet Haldir grimly noted that the younger Elf's voice would start shaking were he to say anything more. "I do not understand your question. I do not idly imagine the faces of those I share my body with to change." "Yet you did," Legolas pressed. "Why else would you have shunned me?" "You think highly of your prowess, prince," Haldir said, his voice hardened to steel now, cold and clipped. Legolas drew a deep breath at the insult, holding back the retort he obviously wished to voice. Taking a tentative step forward, Legolas stopped as he saw Haldir tighten the grip on his bow further. Haldir felt coiled to strike, strung far too tight, and feared he might come apart at any second. "It was your younger brother, was it not? Rumil." Haldir closed his eyes, feeling as though a fist of ice had closed around his heart. The prince knew. All was lost now. How was it that thoughts he himself had thought to be too foul now seemed common knowledge? His brother should not have divulged Haldir's confession -- and yet the prince was telling him Orophin had indeed done so. "I have no need for your accusations," Haldir said, finding no other words. "I have nothing to report to you." "I am not asking you to report to me," Legolas said. " Nor am I as blind as you think me to be. Strangers may see more than kin does, and I have seen both sides of this strife. Talk to Rumil. You are so occupied with pitying yourself that you fail to see his troubles." Turning away from Legolas, Haldir stayed still, neither speaking nor moving. After a moment, he could hear Legolas turning and walking away, the tread light enough to be nigh soundless. He did not know where Legolas was headed, and he did not intend to follow him. If the Woodland prince were wise enough, he would let the matter lie and not pursue it further. Yet his words sparked a strange flutter of hope. Forbidden hope, hope that Rumil would harbour the same feelings. Haldir shook his head. //No. Surely it cannot be that way. Both of us cannot be as mad --and still I hope for it to be so.// -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Legolas rebuked himself for his own tactlessness as he strode away. So many other ways in which he could have asked. Haldir's face had been drawn, a look midway between resignation and indignation, it seemed. He had met Legolas's gaze calmly, yet to Legolas it seemed more like that of a warrior squaring up his rival before a battle. So hard to believe that not even a month had passed since Haldir's touches had burned his skin. Heat had turned to ice in that time, chilled by a subtle strife far more perilous than open discord. It was now his task to tell Orophin that his carefully crafted plot was unravelling, perhaps by Legolas's doing. He found Orophin deep in conversation with two of his kin, yet as soon as he noticed Legolas, he rose. Asking his companions to give him a moment, he crossed the clearing to Legolas. "Orophin, your plans are failing," Legolas began. "Does Haldir even know the true feelings of his brother? When confronted with your claims, he recoiled." Orophin's face fell, his eyes glazing briefly with something both alarmed and sad. "It seems all I set out to do to amend this situation falls to folly," he lamented. Ice gathered in Legolas's gut. The net he had tangled himself into was tightening, and there seemed no way to escape. "Would it not be wisest to let this matter lie?" he ventured, catching Orophin's gaze. "To let them in their own time find out?" Orophin shook his head. "We cannot. Not now. Too much has been said, and too many things unveiled. To go back now would force them to --" here his voice faltered. "They would not abide." -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- It was aduial, and the stars were hesitantly lighting their familiar paths across the vault of midnight. The woods were silent all around the guardpost, as it was far away from Caras Galadhon. Haldir himself had volunteered to take the watch, thinking he would now have time to go over all that had befallen. He was still taking the coward's way out, fleeing to the borderlands to be alone with his thoughts. Legolas had turned out to be far more sharp-sighted than Haldir had thought, and he was also the one who had provoked Haldir to make this final mistake. //Why now? Why must I be burdened with more? It is ill enough that I have taken my pleasure with someone well above my rank and then left him, but to feel lust for my brother...// He knew Orophin's words were true, that he before long would have to confront Rumil, yet he found he lacked the courage to do it. The admission would alter everything, for good or ill, and it was not a step to be taken lightly - but at the same time it had to be made. "What troubles you, brother?" Haldir looked up quickly, catching Rumil's gaze. He had not expected anyone to come near this post, let alone the one he found he could not face. His younger brother would not have a watch-turn this night, yet Haldir had thought Rumil would have chosen to remain within the City. Haldir opened his mouth, feeling the words well up, then bit his lip to silence himself. "I cannot say it. Nay, not to you." Rumil took half a step backward, then exhaled softly. "What if it were true?" he ventured, the voice so light Haldir could scarcely hear it. "If it were... true," Haldir echoed helplessly. "Then I would wish to hear it from their lips." He looked up at Rumil once more, seeing his own nervousness clearly mirrored on the features of his brother. "I would wish," Haldir hesitated, the words faltering, falling whispered, "I would wish to be as brave." "Im anno mîl-nin le. [I give my love to you]", Rumil said, each word punctuated by a step closer, until the last word was sealed by his lips pressing a kiss to Haldir's mouth. Haldir did not dare move nor breathe. Rumil's fingers laced into his hair, holding, not pulling. The kiss was soft, kept light by virtue of fear, and yet it seemed sweeter than all wine. Giving a desperate little sound in the back of his throat, Haldir cupped the back of Rumil's head, deepening the kiss. As soon as the kiss had begun, it ended. They stepped back, their hold loosening, Rumil's hand relinquishing the locks of hair he had laced his fingers into. "Rumil, this is folly..." Haldir protested. "It is not, brother, and you know it. Do not deny further that which is palpably true. Do not do this to me." Haldir could no more deny his younger brother than he could hinder the stars from rising, and this was what he wanted. Yet still a dark doubt and shame nagged at him, for they were in truth far too close of kin. The fairness of his brother tore at his heart, and he bent close to press a kiss to Rumil's forehead. In that moment, Rumil lifted his head, and so their lips met in another kiss. //It is the fate of Nienor and Turin, this most dark of loves. Yet we know of what kin we are, and we do not regret it.// "I have been wilfully blind, it seems," Haldir managed when at length the kiss was broken. "I did not know...." "And had not the prince of Mirkwood intervened, it would surely have remained that way, brother,'" Rumil confessed. "I have only in my wildest of fancies imagined this to happen." "Surely you know this is wrong?" Haldir ventured carefully. "That it will only be looked upon with consternation were it revealed?" "I beg of you, do not bring that up. I would have this one moment without regret," Rumil said, inclining his head as if to escape Haldir's gaze. His hands tightened their hold, keeping Haldir in his place. Haldir's heart wrenched at Rumil's statement, as he realized it was what he wanted as well. He did not wish to bring agony into this one perfect moment, yet he had to. Rumil was young, yet not so young that he would never have had lovers before. He would have learned that feelings of regret had to be heeded, not pushed away, lest they return in later times and spoil all. "I do not ask guilt of you, brother beloved. I would never ask it of you. I only mourn the way this must be." The second kiss was a shadow of the first, light and hesitant. Rumil's hand trembled a little as he raised it to trace the angle of Haldir's jaw. Suddenly, the shadows that had seemed to dim Haldir's vision lifted, dispersing but still lingering in the corners of his field of vision, an anxious reminder of what should not be. //Elbereth, let not this become known, for I will surely wane if this love is taken from me.// The forest surrounding them seemed to spin a web of blissfully concealing shade around them. There was more than enough light for them both to see, yet it seemed the light was contained. The glade was remote, known by perhaps a handful of the Galadhrim guard, and few passed near it of late. They would be undisturbed. "Tell me," Haldir said, his voice faltering a little at the first word, "how long have you known?" Rumil gave a little sound, halfway between a sigh and a sob, before replying. "Years untold. Yet I kept it a secret, as you did. I am not so young nor so foolish to think it a thing allowed." "We are indeed two masters of deceit, then," Haldir said, "if we have so carefully woven lies that we do not notice those that are offered to us." "Ssh," Rumil whispered, pressing his finger to Haldir's lips, pale and white against rose, and Haldir could feel the warm breath ghost over his own lips. A kiss of air. "Heb-dínen," [Keep silent] Rumil continued, sliding the tips of his fingers down Haldir's neck, stopping at the collar of the dark tunic. Haldir found himself unable to comply as Rumil's chill fingers dipped beneath the fabric, barely brushing his collarbone. A soft sigh from Rumil, and he leaned in, gently walking Haldir back a few steps until he came up against the trunk of a mallorn. The night air crackled, it seemed, shimmered and roared in Haldir's ears as he bent his head to kiss Rumil again. So forbidden and all the more sweet for it, to love and have someone who in essence was part of him already. "You will not regret this?" he asked, stealing the air between them with languorous kisses. His courage seemed to rise and fall, plummeting now into a deep valley, a chasm of black fear as a flicker of tension played over Rumil's features. "Never," Rumil said, his hands confirming his words as they slid over Haldir's side, tracing warmth even through the layers of fabric. "I will not regret if you will not. I ask only that of you - no regret." "No regret," Haldir echoed, closing his eyes. Leaning into the embrace, he let himself be buoyed on the sheer thrill of lust and of the sensation of Rumil's hands on his skin as he stripped Haldir of the black shirt he wore. How was it that now each touch seemed so different? They had held each other more times than he would care to count, come to know each detail of each other in the long passing of years. Yet - not like this. He slid his hand in under Rumil's cloak, cleverly opening the clasps. There was a shimmer in the dark fabric of the undertunic for each rise and fall of Rumil's chest, a glimmer like light on water. The soft skin under Haldir's palms seemed to harbour its own fire, dangerous warmth that burned against his palms as he caressed the skin. Rumil gave a soft moan as Haldir nipped at the lobe of his ear. "Now I ask you to keep silent," Haldir murmured into Rumil's ear. Smiling, Rumil leaned in to kiss Haldir again. The kiss was deep and heated, stealing air and sense from them both. He could taste a wealth of emotions in the kiss, it seemed, taste himself and all of the bitter longing dissolving into sweetness. Dulcet like honey, the kisses, and deep like shade. A breathless rush of words, some half-stumbling over each other, passed between their lips, promises sealed by hands eagerly caressing. They were both in a rush to map each other's bodies, and Haldir felt as though he was being redrawn, shaped out of air by Rumil's hands. Love was springing out of denial, and he felt nearly frightened by the intensity of it. Haldir's breath was ragged, and it became a mere hiss of air as Rumil trailed his fingertips down his abdomen. Fire and coals and sweet sweet heat to the touch, and as Rumil's fingers dipped beneath the waistband of Haldir's leggings, he gave a sharp cry, bucking his hips. Undoing the lacings of Haldir's leggings, Rumil swiftly divested Haldir of the last piece of clothing. Stepping back, he quickly stripped himself, carelessly flinging the garments aside. Despite the lack of grace in the movements, Haldir held his breath. There was no part of Rumil he had not seen before, yet now, as he looked at Rumil with a lover's gaze, all of the younger Elf was changed, presented now for him to explore. The trunk of the mallorn was rough under Haldir's back, but he welcomed the feeling, leaning his head back to rest against the silvery bark. The mellyrn had always felt like they might sense his feelings, as though they spoke to him in their own tongue, far more a feeling than anything else. Even now, he could feel the life thrumming through the trunk of the tree, infusing him with a subtle courage. The leaves falling brushed against his sensitised skin, lover's caresses in their own right, golden against golden as they caught on Rumil's hair. Rumil's fingers were tracing intricate, invisible patterns against his skin, and his breath was a heated flutter in the crook of Haldir's neck. Rumil's thigh, braced between his legs, pushed upward, and Haldir gave a short gasp, leaning back and spreading his legs further. He knew this game, but to play it in such a setting and with such a pair - it was not like any time before. Nothing would be the same, and yet the thought of sharing an even deeper bond with Rumil elated him. It felt as though the blood they shared drew them towards each other, murmured encouragement in a carnal tone. The leaves in the clearing danced in the slight wind, and a long strand of Haldir's hair settled across his throat. Rumil brushed it away, his fingers tracing the soft skin at the hollow of Haldir's throat. The touch was light but burning, and he leaned in closer, laving the arch of Haldir's collarbone, then continued down the wide, pale chest. Haldir gently twined his fingers into Rumil's hair, hindering him from going further down. "Let me kiss you," he said, his voice scarcely carrying, but Rumil did not seem to need more encouragement. Straightening up, he kissed Haldir anew, nipping at Haldir's lips. Rumil's hard kiss left him breathless, and he reciprocated eagerly, tangling his fingers tighter into Rumil's hair. Were the choice his, he would never wish to let go. Shifting, Haldir made as if to kneel down, but Rumil stopped him. "Haldir, brother, let me do this to you," Rumil said, voice soft, as he pushed Haldir back to lean against the trunk of the mallorn. "Let me pleasure you." Haldir gave a smile as he let his head fall back. The smile opened into a deep sigh as Rumil traced a path of kisses down the side of his neck. Rumil's words were enough to stir him, wake his flesh to sensations so forbidden they did not even have a name in their tongue. Yet, he did not feel penance. If he had come thus far, was he not allowed to reap the fruits of his labour? Rumil was willing, and how could love be counted wrong? No one was being harmed in their tryst. "I could never refuse you," he said, letting the very last vestiges of trepidation go. Rumil's reply was wordless, a clever ghosting of fingertips that teased to life the most heated reactions. Sinking to his knees, he laved a winding path down Haldir's torso, tracing the tips of his fingers along Haldir's sides, mapping the shallow grooves between the ribs. Pausing his ministrations for a moment, he stretched his hand out to the side, grasping a slender phial from its resting place amid the scattered garments. "You planned this," Haldir said, hearing his own voice grow unsteady. A flush of heat travelled through him. This was no mere deed of impulse, but a crafted plan -- Rumil had known, perhaps even hoped, in the same manner as Haldir had. "Not so much planned as hoped," Rumil confessed. Far more fire in this encounter than he had felt with the young prince, Haldir thought. A quick flash of fear stabbed at him, and he reached down, gently tipping Rumil's chin up. The grey gaze was dark with lust, and the sight of the familiar face sent a shivering wave of passion crashing through him. "Rumil," he whispered, feeling as though a long lifetime of emotions laced the name. Slicking his fingers with the oil, Rumil let his fingers slide up the insides of Haldir's thighs, urging his brother to spread his legs further. Unerringly finding the most tender spot between the long legs, Rumil worked his fingers in a slow and teasing caress. Haldir gave a lustful groan, clasping his hand to Rumil's shoulder. Oh, the wickedness of the touch and the sweetness of the pleasure it brought. All the same, it was too light, too careful and restrained. "You needn't treat me as though I were spun of glass," Haldir said mildly, grasping Rumil's wrist. "You know me. I have not broken from this little," he went on, stroking his thumb over the thin skin. In reply, Rumil shifted the pressure of his fingers, the slick digits pushing past the tightly clamped muscle. Haldir's head snapped back as he gave a loud gasp, and he could feel the bark of the mallorn tugging at strands of his hair. As Rumil stroked deeper, Haldir gave a hoarse curse. "Be still, brother sweet," Rumil murmured, "you will give us away yet." Rising, Rumil let his oil-slicked fingers trace a spiral around the shaft of Haldir's cock before he coated his own arousal with the remainder of the oil. Sliding his hand down along Haldir's thigh, he folded his fingers into the crook of Haldir's knee and tugged gently upward. Letting his heel settle into the small of Rumil's back, Haldir tried to brace himself, yet found he had to bite his tongue to keep from moaning aloud at the sensation of being breached. It seemed every sensation he had ever known in lovemaking suddenly melded into one, and he fisted his hand in Rumil's hair, seeking out his brother's mouth for a hard kiss. Every sharp curve of Rumil's body was new and yet familiar, and locked in the hard embrace, Haldir felt as though he might stop breathing from the sheer ecstasy of it all. Concentrating on keeping upright, he moved in time with the thrusts, feeling the soft rasp of the mallorn bark against his bare back. He could feel the life echoing through the wood, and he closed his eyes, letting his head fall back against the trunk. Each thrust had a ragged gasp tear from Haldir's throat, a sound that was as much pleasure as it was burning shock. The hold was hard enough to bruise, yet it seemed not even that was close enough. Finally this, after such endless wait, after such dangerous folly. All previous lovers seemed to fade into grey, a faceless mass that meant nothing compared to this wild new love coursing through his veins. Each of Rumil's kisses tasted like flame, and it seemed as though he could not get enough. Rumil's soft mewls echoed in his ears, and he tightened his grip impossibly further. The skin under his hands was sweat-slick, and as he bent his head to Rumil's neck, he could well taste the slight salt. He could feel each shallow breath mirror his own, and the climax was building fast. Far too fast, he had time to think, before the final hard thrust had him fall into brilliant light. Rumil dug his nails into Haldir's shoulder, his nails pressing crimson crescents into the hollow above the collarbone. Every sound seemed amplified, and he could hear his own blood singing wild through his veins as he writhed in the rush of pleasure. Cradling Rumil, he rode out the aftershocks, thankful for the solidity of the tree that was supporting him. For a moment, the world seemed to have shrunk to hold only the two of them. Keeping his eyes closed, Haldir listened to Rumil's breathing, falling into the rhythm with the same ease that he always had. His mind reeled with the implications of his deeds. He had taken pleasure with his brother, shared his body in the most intimate of ways with someone who shared his blood. Yet, all he could feel was elation and love. Opening his eyes, Haldir looked at Rumil, feeling like he was drowning in the grey gaze. How many years had he spent longing without certainty of who the object was? And how many more in helpless agonized guilt over the depravity of it? It had all been for nothing, a mutual panic that had surely set into motion things neither one of them could have foreseen or even intended. "I love you," Haldir contented himself with saying, stroking a sweat- dampened streak of hair out of Rumil's face. "I have always loved you, even when I myself did not see it." "I did not think myself worthy of your love," Rumil said, his voice small, "and so I set out to avenge what I saw as a wrong done to you. Ai, I am foolish, am I not?" Breaking the tight embrace, both Elves slowly sank down onto the grass to rest their wearied limbs. Haldir grasped his cloak from where it lay rumpled on the ground, and wrapped it around them both. Settling his head on Haldir's chest, Rumil gave a content sigh, lacing his fingers with Haldir's. The simple gesture was enough to have Haldir's heart skip a beat. He was tearing down boundaries and breaking rules with each breath. If anyone were to know, they would be banished, and he would lose everything. "Do not trouble your mind with thoughts of remorse now," Rumil said, splaying his fingers wide over Haldir's side. "Let go for once." Giving a smile, he shifted, pinning Haldir under him. "You look beautiful this way, brother," he said, his voice catching on the last word, "far more fair than I could have pictured in any reverie." "Fair? I am no maiden," Haldir protested. "I know," Rumil grinned. "You proved that to me." "We will have to tell Orophin of this," Haldir said, taking hold of Rumil's hand and pressing a light kiss to the knuckles. "Perhaps not all detail," he added, a slight colour staining his cheeks, "yet certainly something. I have never been able to keep secrets from him, and neither have you." Gently shouldering Rumil out of the way, Haldir sat up, brushing away a few errant leaves. The early spring night carried a prickle of chill, and the breeze was cold enough to be clearly felt. "Much as I enjoy looking at you unclothed," he said, trailing his fingertips down Rumil's chest, "the night is cold, and both you and I are less than clean. I do not wish to explain this in full detail, should someone chance upon this place." "There is a small stream nearby," Rumil suggested, leaning back on his elbows. "The water will be cold, however." Indeed, the water was icy, Haldir found, nearly enough to take his breath away. The stream in itself was shallow, barely reaching to mid-thigh, but the chill was piercing. Rumil gave a short gasp as he waded into the water, grabbing onto Haldir's shoulder for support. As Haldir poured a handful of water down his chest, he shied away, yet with a smile. Cupping his palms, Haldir tried to will the heat of his body to warm the water, but found it was still as cold as he hastened to wash off the traces of oil and pearl-shimmery seed still clinging to his skin. Stealing one last, lingering kiss from Rumil, Haldir stepped up onto the bank of the stream and began sorting his garments from Rumil's. The night was deepening, the stars now shining bright, and in a matter of hours, Haldir realized, his and Rumil's watch would be over for this night. Settling to sit on the soft grass, he watched Rumil wash himself, and ducked as the younger Elf decided to spatter water at him. It felt bitter that they would have to act as though nothing had passed when they returned. How long would he be able to keep up the lie? -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Orophin had sent word that he wished to speak to Haldir and Rumil when they returned to Caras Galadhon. Haldir and Rumil approached him together, both grave and keeping distance from each other as they saw Orophin. He rose, walking ahead of them to one of the telain that were more remote. Orophin found he did not feel entirely comfortable with the situation. They were, and had always been, a closely-knit trio, despite the difference in their ages. Being eldest, Orophin had taken it on himself to be the guardian of his siblings, and now more than before he felt the true burden of the position. It was as though all problems were being placed on his shoulders. It felt arcane to assume again the same grouping that had been in the beginning, the constellation that had been shattered and regrouped by the young Prince of Mirkwood. "It feels as though I have been called to talk to the Lord Celeborn once more," Haldir said, wrapping his cloak around tighter around himself. "This is far more serious," Orophin remarked. "I do not know all of what has passed, yet I urge you to stave your urges." "Stave our urges? I do not tell you to stay away from your loved one!" Rumil snapped. "It is not your place --" Haldir laid his hand on Rumil's arm, fingers gripping hard. Rumil stopped mid-sentence, but his look remained angry, and he leaned away from Orophin. "It is my place, Rumil," Orophin said, his voice cold. "It is already causing rifts. We do not need this on the eve of war." He gave a grimace of pain as he stood, looking out over the silent woods. "I know that your... liaison is wilfully chosen and that nothing is taken or done without consent, yet having to hide this will make you vulnerable. Secrets can be culled out by the Enemy, and you will be at risk. I will not let you fall prey!" "Even now you talk about risks, Orophin," Haldir interrupted. "What of the possibility that one of us wanes if we are denied the love that sustains us?" "Do not make this any harder than it already is," Orophin said, turning to face his brothers. "You must see how impossible this is." His look softened, and he kneeled down, level to level with both Haldir and Rumil. "It is forbidden, against all our laws. As harsh as it may sound, I wish this would not be true. Yet, I will do what I can to keep it a secret. That is a promise." He brushed his fingers lightly over Rumil's cheek. "Trust me. Rather I break laws than lose you." Haldir laced his fingers with Rumil's, but kept silent. The hours of the night passed in silence, the low call of a bird the only sound to break the stillness. Darkness crept ever closer, but still the borders of Laurelindorenan withstood the assault of the Enemy. The brothers spoke no word, and yet much was told in gazes and touches that were only understood by the three of them. -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- That night the Fellowship was again summoned to the chamber of Celeborn, and there the Lord and Lady greeted them with fair words. Legolas found he could meet the Lady Galadriel's gaze calmly, and she seemed to smile at him gently, in wordless approval. //You carry greater wisdom with you out of this place, Greenleaf,// she said, her voice again echoing ghostly and softly inside Legolas's mind. //It will serve you well, even though you have not yet fully understood the depth of it.// At length Celeborn spoke of their departure, having waited for the eight to settle down in the seats provided for them. "Now is the time," he said, "when those who wish to continue the Quest must harden their hearts to leave this land." The words of the Lord surprised Legolas, bringing a brief sting of bitterness. It would seem the Lord Celeborn did not know as much of what had befallen as the Lady did, or he would perhaps not have chosen his words in that manner. "Those who no longer wish to go forward may remain here, for a while," Celeborn added. "But whether they stay or go, none can be sure of peace. For we are come now to the edge of doom." He made a sweeping motion with his hand, indicating the forest that could be glimpsed around them. "Here those who wish may await the oncoming of the hour till either the ways of the world lie open again, or we summon them to the last need of Lorien. Then they may return to their own lands, or else go to the long home of those that fall in battle." There was a whisper of uneasy sighs among the Fellowship, and Legolas found that he was not wholly without doubt. He straightened up, determined not to show signs of weakness. "They all resolved to go forward," Galadriel said, looking in their eyes. Boromir could not long abide her gaze, and he bent his head. "As for me," he said, not lifting his gaze, "my way home lies onward and not back." "That is true," Celeborn said, "but is all this Company going with you to Minas Tirith?" At this, Boromir lifted his head, chancing a sidelong glance at Aragorn. "We have not decided our course," Aragorn said, speaking in Boromir's stead, as though he feared the other man might speak words unwise. "Beyond Lothlorien I do not know what Gandalf intended to do. Indeed I do not think that even he had any clear purpose." "Maybe not," Celeborn said. "Yet when you leave this land, you can no longer forget the Great River. As some of you know well, it cannot be crossed by travellers with baggage between Lothlorien and Gondor, save by boat. And are not the bridges of Osgiliath broken down and all the landings held now by the Enemy?" He looked to Boromir, who nodded, his features set in a look of grim resignation. "On which side will you journey?" Celeborn went on, "The way to Minas Tirith lies upon this side, upon the west; but the straight road of the Quest lies east of the River, upon the darker shore. Which shore will you now take?" "If my advice is heeded, it will be the western shore, and the way to Minas Tirith," Boromir answered, yet the tone of confidence in his voice was absent. "But I am not the leader of the Company," he added. The others said nothing, and Aragorn looked doubtful and troubled. "I see that you do not yet know what to do," Celeborn said, breaking the awkward silence that had fallen. "It is not my part to choose for you; but I will help you as I may." He paused, seeming to fall into thought for a short moment. "There are some among you who can handle boats: Legolas, whose folk know the swift Forest River," At this, Legolas nodded, casting a sidelong glance at his companions. "And Boromir of Gondor; and Aragorn the traveller." "And one Hobbit!" Merry cried. "Not all of us look on boats as wild horses. My people live by the banks of the Brandywine." Legolas gave a smile. The Hobbits were proving to be far more resourceful than he had thought, and far from the children they looked to be. "That is well," Celeborn said. "Then I will furnish your Company with boats. They must be small and light, for if you go far by water, there are places where you will be forced to carry them. You will come to the rapids of Sarn Gebir, and maybe at last to the great falls of Rauros where the River thunders down from Nen Hithoel; and there are other perils. Boats may make your journey less toilsome for a while. Yet they will not give you counsel: in the end you must leave them and the River, and turn west - or east." "All shall be prepared for you and await you at the haven before noon tomorrow," Celeborn continued, inclining his head slightly. "I will send my people to you in the morning to help you make ready for the journey. Now we will wish you all a fair night and untroubled sleep." "Good night, my friends," Galadriel said. "Sleep in peace, and do not trouble your hearts overmuch with thought of the road tonight. Maybe the paths that you each shall tread are already laid before your feet, though you do not see them. Good night!" The Company now took their leave, bowing out in silence. The Hobbits still seemed awestruck by the Lord and Lady, and even Boromir seemed to harbour a grudging respect for the Lady Galadriel, despite his censorious words at their entry. Carefully treading down the winding stair, the Fellowship returned to their pavilion. Legolas went with them, for this was to be their last night in LothLorien, and in spite of the words of Galadriel they wished to take counsel together. For a long time they debated what they should do, and how best to attempt the fulfilling of their purpose with the Ring: but they came to no decision. It was plain that most of them desired to go first to Minas Tirith, and to escape at least for a while from the terror of the Enemy, and Legolas was of like mind. He, at least, was willing to follow a leader over the River and into the shadow of Mordor; but Frodo spoke no word, and Aragorn spoke little. Legolas could sense the Ranger was doubtful, yet he had no doubt Aragorn would take the task of leading them. "I shall go to Minas Tirith, alone if need be, for it is my duty," Boromir said, as if he was speaking to himself. After that he was silent for a while, sitting with his eyes fixed on Frodo. At length he spoke again, softly. "If you wish only to destroy the Ring," he said, "then there is little use in war and weapons; and the Men of Minas Tirith cannot help." He paused, then resumed speaking, tilting his head as he continued to gaze at Frodo. "But if you wish to destroy the armed might of the Dark Lord, then it is folly to go without force into his domain... Folly to throw away." Here he halted again, frowning. "It would be folly to throw lives away, I mean," he ended. "It is a choice between defending a strong place and walking openly into the arms of death. At least, that is how I see it." Legolas, having listened in on the strange conversation, looked at Boromir, taking in the sight of the tall Man whose grey eyes were now haunted with a fear that was more than mere anxiety over the path that lay ahead. Frodo seemed equally ill at ease, and he rose now and went to sit with Sam, leaving Boromir to his own thoughts. Morning broke, light but somehow wan and grey to Legolas's eyes. He had rested very little, instead looking at his companions, amazed over how so motley a band could have remained together through all they had experienced. As the first tentative rays of sunlight pierced the leafy canopy, the few Elves Legolas had learned spoke Westron came to see to the Fellowship. They brought them many gifts of food and clothing for the journey. The food was mostly lembas, wrapped in leaves and sealed with a seal of white. Gimli took up one of the cakes and looked at it with a doubtful eye. "We bid you spare the food," the Elves said. "Eat little at a time, and only at need. For these things are given to serve you when all else fails. The cakes will keep sweet for many, many days, if they are unbroken and left in their leaf-wrappings, as we have brought them. One will keep a traveller on his feet for a day of long labour, even if he be one of the tall Men of Minas Tirith." Legolas saw Boromir look up at the mention of the White City, but the light in his eyes was extinguished as soon as his gaze met Aragorn's. The Ranger remained silent, yet lifted his hand to hide the white jewel at his neck. At the gesture, Boromir looked away, instead kneeling down to address one of the Hobbits. //Ah, Boromir,// Legolas thought, //I know what it is you must feel. It is bitter indeed to love one that you cannot have, and doubly bitter it must be for you as he is your King.// The Elves next unwrapped and gave to each of the Company the clothes they had brought. For each they had provided a hood and cloak, made according to his size, of the light but warm silken stuff that the Galadhrim wove. Each cloak was fastened about the neck with a brooch like a green leaf veined with silver. The leader of the Elves smiled as he fastened the clasp of Legolas's cloak. "It is farewell then, Greenleaf," he said, simply. "I wish you luck." Legolas merely inclined his head and spoke words of thanks and parting, feeling strangely light-hearted and at ease. "Are these magic cloaks?" Pippin asked, looking at them with wonder, grasping the weave. Legolas could not help but give a small smile. To the Halflings, all must seem magical, and in particular the Golden City of the Galadhrim. "I do not know what you mean by that," the Elf answered. "They are fair garments, and the web is good, for it was made in this land. They are Elvish robes certainly, if that is what you mean. Yet they are garments, not armour, and they will not turn shaft or blade. But they should serve you well: they are light to wear, and warm enough or cool enough at need. And you will find them a great aid in keeping out of the sight of unfriendly eyes. You are indeed high in the favour of the Lady! For she herself and her maidens wove this stuff; and never before have we clad strangers in the garb of our own people." After their morning meal the Company said farewell to the lawn by the fountain. Legolas's heart was heavy, and he could tell that his companions were equally saddened to leave; for Lothlorien was a fair place, and it had become like home to them, though they could not count the days and nights that they had passed there. To Legolas, the days had long since melded into a bittersweet chain of happenings, yet he found he was calm. As they stood for a moment looking at the white water of the fountain sparkling in the sunlight, Haldir came walking towards them over the green grass of the glade. Frodo greeted him with delight, and Legolas looked up in wonder. The Warden did not seem troubled, and he greeted the rest of the Company courteously, his gaze lingering a moment longer on Legolas. "I have returned from the Northern Fences," he said, "and I am sent now to be your guide again. The Dimrill Dale is full of vapour and clouds of smoke, and the mountains are troubled. There are noises in the deeps of the earth. If any of you had thought of returning northwards to your homes, you would not have been able to pass that way. But come! Your path now goes south." As they walked through Caras Galadhon the green ways were empty; but in the trees above them many voices were murmuring and singing, songs of parting and echoes of laments for Mithrandir. They themselves went silently, and even the Hobbits refrained from their usual singing and chattering. Aragorn and Boromir walked close, trading vary glances that seemed to be hostile and trusting at the same time, and Legolas found he longed to find out what the depth of their strife was. Perhaps it truly was a dangerous time, as even Lothlorien did not go unscathed - and had the Fellowship truly brought evil into the Golden Wood? At last Haldir led them down the southward slopes of the hill, and they came again to the great gate hung with lamps. The lights rocked gently in the evening breeze, illuminating the surroundings as softly as moonlight. As the Fellowship walked on the path leading out of the City, Legolas hurried his steps until he was in stride with Haldir. The Lorien Elf made no sign as to wishing to converse, but he did not shy away from the company, and so Legolas walked silent, sneaking a sidelong glance every now and then. Haldir seemed less sombre, and there was a light in his eyes that seemed to grow in intensity when he thought he was not being watched. //So it is true then//, Legolas mused. Strange that he was not appalled by the thought of the love Haldir shared with his brother. Yet, who was he to condemn it? Love was love, even if it did not always take forms such as one was accustomed to. There was pity in his thoughts as well. Haldir and Rumil would never be able to seal their bond with a betrothal ceremony - not because they were both male, as such couples were legion even among the Eldar, but because they were kin too close. Sombre tales existed chronicling the doom of those foolish enough to attempt wooing their siblings. As they had crossed the white bridge, with the stream running underneath it like a curling wash of silver, Haldir led them away from the paved road and onto a far less-walked path. Caras Galadhon faded out of view behind them, the song of the Galadhrim now silenced even to Legolas's ears. Here, on the borderlands, the mellyrn still whispered, in a song older than any of the Eldar, and it comforted Legolas for a moment. Looking back at Gimli, he smiled at how the Dwarf now took great care not to snap branches or brandish his axe too openly. They passed on, winding through rolling woodlands of silver shadow, leading them ever down, southwards and eastwards, towards the shores of the River. They had gone some ten miles and noon was at hand when they came on a high green wall. Passing through an opening, they came suddenly out of the trees, onto a long lawn of shining grass, studded with golden elanor that glinted in the sun. The lawn ran out into a narrow tongue between bright margins: on the right and west Celebrant flowed glittering; on the left and east Anduin flowed past in dark and thundering majesty. On the further shores the woodlands still went on southwards as far as the eye could see, but all the banks were bare. On the bank of Celebrant, at some distance up from where it met Nimrodel, there was a hythe of white stones and white wood. By it were moored many boats and barges, some brightly painted in silver and gold and green, but most were either white or shadow-grey. Three small grey boats, sleek and simple, had been made ready for the travellers, and in these the Elves stowed their goods. They added also coils of hithlain rope, three to each boat. "Come," Haldir said. "All is now ready for you. Take care at first! These boats are light-built, and they are crafty and unlike the boats of other folk. They will not sink, lade them as you will; but they are wayward if mishandled. It would be wise if you accustomed yourselves to stepping in and out, here where there is a landing-place, before you set off downstream." Haldir drew Legolas to the side as the rest of the Fellowship busied themselves with settling into the boats. "Thank you, Legolas," he said, his voice serious yet joyous. "It is unfortunate that things came to pass as they did, yet it was all for the better. I wish you good luck in your quest. May Elbereth guide you well." To Legolas's surprise, Haldir leaned in, pressing a light kiss to Legolas's mouth. "Go now," Haldir said, smiling as he leaned back. "I would wish that you have forgiven me. For my part, I see that whatever strife we had is now resolved." Answering the smile, Legolas grasped Haldir's arms in a warrior's gesture. "Haldir..." "You need say nothing," Haldir said, letting go. The river glittered mercurial, stretching as a wide band into the distance, the muted roar of it carrying clear through the cold air. Legolas could smell the salt and rankness of the water plants, a strange contrast to the dulcet forest they had passed out of. He swiftly walked down the slight incline to join the rest of the Fellowship. Legolas felt a strange sadness grip at him, despite the knowledge that his intervention had averted what might have turned into a larger fight. "You seem thoughtful, friend Elf," Gimli commented as Legolas settled into the boat. "Much has happened, Gimli. I -- perhaps it is best I do not speak of it now. " "I feel I owe you an apology," Gimli said. "When I said Rumil was plotting, I did not imagine this depth of complication --" "You do not yet know all of it, " Legolas interrupted. "And it is better that you never do. As you said, our kin are not alike, and I do not think you could understand the full tale." As he turned, he could see the other Elves stand on the shore. Haldir smiled, inclining his head, and Legolas found his heart light enough that he was able to return the smile. //All paths are drowned in shadow, yet we see no stars where there is no darkness.// [END] Additional notes: Some dialogue and narrative is directly lifted from the books, some is merely rewritten. If it looks like Tolkien, it likely is, and I acknowledge this. If he said it better, why not quote him? The passages are not marked, but you can cross-reference this story with the books if you have nothing better to do.