Title: Oath of Hatred, Bond of Love 
Author: Tzipporah (kittielizzy@aol.com) 
Pairings: So far, Legolas/Elrond, Haldir/Glorfindel, Erestor/Lindir, 
Rúmil/Elrohir, Elladan/Orophin, and potentially Gildor/Celeborn. Not 
many!  
Rating: NC-17 - Possible battles, fairly graphic sex, non-consensual 
themes. 
Disclaimer: Not mine, never will be. All belongs to the estate of the great 
Professor Tolkien. As another fanfic author said (can't remember who, but 
all credit to them anyway) 'It's Tolkien's sandbox, I just play in it'. I think 
that sums it up pretty nicely, huh? However, Lindir's and Erestor's 
backgrounds and characters (although I've changed them quite a lot for 
this) are Soledad's sandbox, since no one else ever gave us any 
information, and she did it so well! 
Dedications: Soledad - 'Innocence' rules, although I'm sure you've heard 
this many times! Chaz - I owe you, even though you will probably never 
read this, same to Shiz and Gem. Alex F. who I will make sure never reads 
this - for asking me so many bloody questions about Lord of the Rings! 
Lastly to Tolkien, for giving us so many words that my spellchecker hates 
and underlines.       
Summary: During the midst of an Elvish civil war, Legolas, Haldir and 
Lindir are captured to marry and bear children for their enemies. Much 
better than it sounds! This is very Au, and I know I've dashed a lot of 
Tolkien's great plan, but hey, people have done it before, and I wouldn't be 
if I didn't have to!   
Warnings: Slash, male pregnancy. If I get flamed about the slash thing, I 
will get *very* mad. If you usually get queasy at the thought of male 
pregnancy, but like the ideas of this story, I promise the birth won't be 
graphic at all. In an ideal - and, might I add, fair - world, guys would be 
able to get pregnant too. They would also suffer PMS etc….will stop now 
before this turns into a rant!  
 
Author's Notes 
 
Noldor versus Sindar/Silvan/Nandor  
 
Noldor/Dwarves - Main characters 
 
Celebrimbor 
Elladan 
Elrohir 
Elrond 
Erestor  
Galadriel 
Gildor Inglorion 
Gil-Galad  
Gimli 
Glorfindel 
 
+ other Noldor, Dwarves, most Men 
 
Celebrian, who was the daughter of Galadriel and Celebrimbor (yeah, I 
know they're pretty close kin) was killed during a raid on the Sindar, 
which she accompanied. A stray arrow, shot by a Sindarin elf, killed her 
instantly. Her sons and daughter swore revenge (like they do!). Gil-Galad 
is the Noldor High King. I assumed Glorfindel must be of mixed 
Vanyar/Noldor blood, so I put him with the Noldor. Celebrimbor never 
got himself killed, and Galadriel rules behind the throne with an iron fist.    
 
Sindar/Silvan/Hobbits - Main characters 
 
Celeborn 
Cirdan 
Frodo 
Haldir  
Legolas 
Lindir 
Merry 
Orophin 
Pippin 
Rúmil 
Sam 
Thranduil 
 
+ other Sindar/Silvan/Nandor, most Hobbits, few Men 
 
 
Plot: This is an Au, with no Sauron and no ruling ring, just elven rings and 
those of the dwarves. Melkor (Morgoth) was the only Dark Lord, and the 
Valar restrained him during the first age. Celebrimbor wasn't killed. The 
Noldor, banished from Aman as they were, strove for dominance over all 
things in Middle-Earth. Men and dwarves fell under their dominion, but 
the Sindar, Silvan and Nandor elves resisted. This resulted in many Kin-
Slayings, even after the War of the Jewels, and all the battles against 
Morgoth, when they had been almost united. A deep hatred was formed 
between the kindreds of elves.    
 
At the end of the first age, Elrond and Elros made their choice - to become 
mortal and eventually die, or to be counted amongst the elves. Elros, chose 
to become Mortal, Elrond chose to be counted amongst the Elves. Elrond 
also had to choose, due to his mixed Noldorin/Sindarin heritage which kin 
to belong to. Because Gil-Galad took him in, he chose the Noldor.  
 
Ever since the many Kin-Slayings done by the Noldor, the Sindar, Nandor 
and Silvan elves went to war with them, during the Second Age. The 
Noldor had the Dwarves and many Men on their side, and they emerged 
victorious. During this war, many lost their lives - for example, Oropher, 
father of Thranduil. The other elves swore revenge on the Noldor, and 
retreated to two strongholds - Greenwood the Great, and the Havens of 
Mithlond. Unfortunately, they were trapped with their enemies in between. 
The Noldor peopled Lothlorien and Imladris, and attacked and looted their 
enemies, well into the third age, when an underground movement began to 
gather forces against them.  
 
Pleas were sent to the Valar, who, horrified by the wilful Noldor's actions, 
punished them. They lessened the fertility of the Noldor, making many 
female elves barren, whilst they bestowed more fertility on the other elves, 
even giving rare males the chance to bear children. Angered by this, the 
Noldor set to capture their enemies who could bear children, and forcing 
them into marriage to give them legitimate heirs.  
 
One such elf who can bear children is Legolas Greenleaf, only son of 
Thranduil, Prince of the Greenwood. Two others are Haldir, and Lindir - a 
foundling of one of the great Istari, Radagast, who have all, apart from 
Gandalf, taken sides. Radagast sided with the enemies of the Noldor, the 
Blue Istari and Saruman with the Noldor. Gandalf continues to try to make 
peace, even after all others have given up hope. He will give aid to those 
who want reconciliation, and is a good friend of both Celeborn and 
Elrond, and a protector to the Hobbits, who side with the Sindar. This 
story follows the fortunes of the elves, especially those captured to bear 
children to the Noldor. Legolas and Haldir have to battle hatred from the 
inside, and Lindir discovers more about his lineage than he would like to 
know. Will love overcome hatred, or will the elves simply destroy each 
other? If you review, you'll find out! (HINT) 
 
Pairings - Elrond/Legolas, Erestor/Lindir and Glorfindel/Haldir. Possibly 
also Gildor/Celeborn, Elladan/Orophin and Elrohir/Rúmil. Although 
Frodo and Sam are in it, I decided not to make them a couple. I think it's 
possible to be such good friends without ravaging each other. I have 
nothing against the pairing, I just want to use them as an example of a 
deep friendship, the way it was portrayed in the movie.   
 
I will possibly start each chapter with a quote from a Shakespeare play. 
That guy really knew how to wring emotions! 
 
This story has been moved from fanfiction.net, after they banned NC-17 
fiction.

Oath of Hatred, Bond of Love 
 
Tzipporah 
 
Prologue/? - Lost and Found 
 
'O me! What fray was here? 
Yet tell me not, for I have heard it all. 
Here's much to do with hate, but more with love.' 
 
William Shakespeare's 'Romeo and Juliet', Romeo, Act I: Scene I,  
 
******************** 
Greenwood the Great 
******************** 
 
The cries from the birthing room began to escalate, and Thranduil stopped 
pacing for the first time in that past six hours, and started towards the 
door. He was stopped by a gentle hand on his shoulder. 
 
"Seeing her now could only worry you more. Wait just a few moments, 
my friend, and mayhap you will be rewarded," advised Celeborn in his 
deep, soothing voice, instantly calming the younger elf. 
 
Who then returned to trying to wear a hole in the marble floor. 
 
Celeborn bit back a sigh. In truth, he was more worried than he let his 
friend realise. The birth was proving long and hard for Thranduil's gentle 
wife, who was quite young to be bearing her first child. Thranduil hadn't 
even meant for her to conceive, but the increased fertility in their people of 
late had a will of its own, and no amount of planning seemed to thwart it.  
 
A particularly loud cry startled him from his musings, and seconds later, 
the unmistakable wail of a new-born filled the air. Thranduil rushed into 
the room, with Celeborn close on his heel. The younger immediately went 
over to his wife, soothing her, and coaxing her to open her eyes. 
 
But no amount of coaxing could wake the dead. 
 
Thranduil let out an anguished cry of his own, holding the body of the 
being whom he loved more than anyone else, and drenching it with his 
tears. Celeborn shed tears of his own at the sight of Glînwen, her 
beauty not diminished in death. She looked peaceful. 
 
Another wail drew Thranduil's attention to the small bundle in the 
midwife's arms. She handed it to him hesitantly, tears streaming down her 
face. Celeborn stepped closer to see Thranduil's child. 
 
Nestled amid the folds of the blanket was the most beautiful baby boy 
either of them had ever seen. He had soft, downy, ash-blonde hair, wide 
sapphire eyes, and a contented smile as he gazed up at his sire. Thranduil 
was overcome with love for this little being, made of his and his beloved's 
flesh and adoration. He knew instantly that he would give his life for the 
child, and care for him always. 
 
"What name will you give him," questioned Celeborn gently, smiling amid 
his grief at the fiercely protective expression on his friend's face. 
 
"He shall be called- Legolas. For he is my little Greenleaf, and will 
always restore spring to my heart, lost in a winter of grief." 
 
"What is that mark on his shoulder," asked Celeborn, intrigued by the 
small, star-shaped birthmark on Legolas' right arm. The midwife covered 
her mouth as if suppressing a scream. 
 
"That- that means he can bear children. You know how the Noldor desire 
those of us who can," she answered. "How will you protect him?" 
 
"With my own life, if need be. But he will not stray outside our realm, and 
he will not go near the Noldor. Ever! If any of those murderers dare lay so 
much as a finger on him, they will die a long and painful death."    
 
************************ 
Imladris, a few weeks later 
************************ 
 
"Ah, Elrond!" Gandalf shouted, spying his comrade at the far end of the 
beautiful courtyard. The handsome Elf-Lord turned and smiled at his old 
friend, who, on closer inspection, looked more weary than usual, and 
definitely grieved. Glorfindel was stood not far behind him, wearing 
midnight blue robes and his usual smirk. 
 
"You seem troubled, my old friend," said Elrond, as he embraced the Istari 
warmly. 
 
"Thranduil's wife has given birth to a son," was the only answer he got. 
 
"And?" asked Glorfindel. "You would think that would be a happy event." 
 
"Not for us," Elrond added darkly. Glorfindel shot him a wry smile. 
 
"It is bittersweet for him. He wife died during the birth, and his only son is 
capable of bearing children," Gandalf broke in, a single tear coursing 
down his cheek. "I have never seen a more beautiful babe- so much like 
his mother. Thranduil adores him." 
 
"I am sorry for your loss, Gandalf. She was clearly a good friend to you. 
What is the child's name?" Gandalf seemed preoccupied in a daydream, so 
Glorfindel shook his shoulder gently. 
 
"Hmmm? Oh, his name is Legolas Greenleaf. And will you promise me 
something, Elrond?" The Elf-Lord nodded warily, not sure what was 
coming next. "If ever your paths cross, you will see that he isn't hurt, or 
placed in unnecessary danger?" 
 
"Very well," answered Elrond, more than a little confused. "Although I 
doubt our paths will ever cross, unless in unhappy circumstances. Come, 
my friends, Galadriel, Celebrimbor and the King are here, and anxious to 
see you Gandalf." They began in the direction of the counsel chamber, 
Gandalf lagging behind. 
 
"You doubt your paths will ever cross, hmmm? Foolish elf! I never say 
something for nothing!"          
 
********************* 
55 years later 
********************* 
 
With the passage of time, Thranduil's overwhelming grief had lessened. 
His protectiveness of his son had not. He devoted all of his free time to 
raising the boy, and was both mother and father to him, teacher and 
mentor. He let few people come near him; only Celeborn (of course), 
Haldir and Lindir, his son's best friends, Haldir's two brothers, and two 
hobbits - Frodo Baggins and Samwise Gamgee, who had been stranded in 
the forest some years ago, unable to get home because of the Noldor 
guarding the mountain pass. 
 
During the fifty-five years since his birth, Legolas had grown up into one 
of the most beautiful elves in all the kingdom, his loveliness rivalled only 
by Lindir and Haldir. All three had ash-blonde hair, but Lindir's eyes were 
a deep violet, Legolas' a cool sapphire and Haldir's a warm hazel. 
Thranduil, seeing his son's beauty, became all the more fearful for him, 
and his care extended to Haldir and Lindir as well. Haldir and his elder 
brothers, Rúmil and Orophin, were orphans, and Lindir was the 
foundling of Radagast the Brown, and had never known his parents. 
Celeborn showed great affection for Lindir and the brothers, and was like 
a father to them. Haldir and Lindir also shared a common bond with 
Legolas, as they could both bear children. Haldir was a little older than 
him, Lindir a little younger. 
 
If Legolas' bond with his friends was close (despite their incessant banter 
and teasing of each other), his bond with Thranduil eclipsed it completely. 
Legolas, although he possessed bits of Thranduil's character and a few of 
his features, was almost a mirror image of his mother. The King bestowed 
all the love he had known for Glînwen, and all the love in his heart on 
his only son. In turn, his son gave him all the affection he had, for 
Thranduil was the only parent he would ever know. Legolas was both 
gentle and compassionate, but had a temper, which, once roused, was hard 
to contain. Haldir was usually the one to tease him enough to aggravate 
him, and Lindir the one to calm him down. It was hard to stay angry 
around the innocent young minstrel for long, and Legolas and Haldir loved 
their banter far too much to relinquish it. They were light-hearted and 
merry, and brought sunshine to their King's heart, and to Celeborn's, in a 
time of great strife. The Noldor were repeatedly attacking them from the 
west, and they still couldn't reach CÃrdan at the Havens. Numerous elves 
had also disappeared, always those who could bear children, and the folk 
of the Greenwood continued to beg Gandalf to do something, to which he 
always replied: 
 
"Soon, there shall come a peace. I feel it in my bones. The Prince and his 
companions will do what I cannot, without going against the explicit 
instructions of the Valar not to take sides!" 
 
Unfortunately, the people of the Greenwood did not take kindly to this, 
and declared that he was helping only the Noldor. How could a Prince 
they barely saw and his young friends bring peace after there being only 
hatred for so long? 
 
*********** 
Imladris 
*********** 
 
"Idiot!" yelled King Gil-Galad, "imbecile of the highest order! You're 
supposed to check for the Star Mark before you bring them here. Is that so 
hard to accomplish?" At the foot of his throne stood a lone dwarf, at the 
sides stood Elrond, Erestor and Glorfindel, and on seats to his left and 
right sat Galadriel and Celebrimbor. 
 
"It isnea easy capturing elves, I'll have ye know!" Gimli shouted back. 
"And once ye have them, you donea go checking them over for some Star, 
or whatever it is." He brandished his arm fiercely. "The las' one bit me! 
Anyway, what does the mark mean?" 
 
"It means not only our survival, but yours, Dwarf," answered Galadriel 
softly, yet in a tone that brooked no argument. "The Star Mark means that 
the male elf can bear children, and with our own difficulties in that 
particular area, they must bear our progeny. I need hardly remind you that 
if the Noldor die out, the Sindar will avenge themselves on you also. Now 
get out." Mumbling angrily, Gimli retreated, for the first time feeling a 
flash of guilt and sympathy for the hapless elves he captured. Ah well, it 
was a job, the job his father had requested he do in his absence. And 
although he disliked it, as the tall lass with blonde hair had pointed out, it 
was necessary for his own survival. With that, he exited the room, to plan 
the next ambush. 
 
One in the Greenwood. 
 
"Are you sure that was wise, Galadriel?" asked Glorfindel. He was the 
only elf who always refused to give her the title of Lady, she thought 
angrily, fuming. Perhaps he thought the fact that the Valar had returned 
him to life placed him above her. No one quite understood why that had 
happened. He was partly one of the Noldor, after all, and she would have 
thought that he would have been forced to suffer endless torment in the 
Halls of Mandos. Yet he had been reborn, and all he ever said was that he 
was sent back for a reason, although he spoke of it to none. 
 
"Do you question my wisdom in telling the dwarf of the mark?" she asked 
coolly. 
 
Ever the peacemaker, Erestor cut in, saying, "We are only concerned that 
the information may not be in the safest of hands." 
 
"Yes," added Elrond. "You cannot always trust dwarves. And if they fear 
our power wanes, they may betray us." 
 
"My Lords, I see now my folly. But I shall make it up to you, I promise." 
Galadriel paused dramatically. "You may take to husband or wife one of 
the next Sindar we capture, and have them bear your children." Seeing the 
look of surprise on Erestor's face, she added, "Not you, counsellor, you 
have yet to earn it. But Elrond, and Glorfindel, this is my apology. Do you 
accept?" 
 
Both elves stared, rendered temporarily speechless. Slowly, Glorfindel 
answered, "Taking a spouse could only hinder our work. We have not the 
time to father children." 
 
Celebrimbor spoke up for the first time, saying, "We would relieve you of 
some of your duties, so that you could, ah, father children. Surely you 
realise how important that is to us?" 
 
"They will accept your offer, My Lady. It is their King's command," stated 
Gil-Galad, rather impassively. "So long as I get first choice of the most 
beautiful. It is said that the Prince of the Greenwood is a glorious creature 
to behold, and he can bear children, if all that Gandalf says is true. If he 
suits me, I will have him. If not, he is yours, Elrond. And Glorfindel may 
have whomever he desires. Now go." Wordlessly, they obeyed their King's 
order. 
 
"Sorry Erestor," Elrond began when they were out of the chamber, but the 
counsellor cut him off. 
 
"I want no spouse from the Sindar. All is well, My Lords." Then he was 
gone. Elrond sighed. Erestor had seen both his home city, and then 
Eregion fall in the war, at the one time the Sindar had gained the upper 
hand, if only for a few months. Erestor had lost all of his family then, and 
was still very lonely, having taken few lovers, and devoted himself to his 
work. He hated the Sindar with a vengeance, with good reason, 
considering his past losses. 
 
Meanwhile, a group of dwarves made ready to mach on the Greenwood. A 
message had come through to attempt to capture the Prince at all costs, or 
the wrath of the King would be brought upon them. In other words, 
thought Gimli, the blonde lass would throw a tantrum. And his hearing 
couldn't take her shrieks at that moment. 
 
************************* 
Greenwood the Great 
************************* 
 
"Can't catch me!" Legolas yelled teasingly, before hearing Haldir closing 
in behind him. Damn. It seemed that he could. With a deep breath, 
Legolas picked up his speed until he was almost a blur, running not only 
to avoid capture, but for the sheer joy and freedom it gave him. For his 
part, Haldir just watched as the Prince sped out of his sight, laughing as he 
took to the trees. He knew just where the Prince was heading, and he also 
knew a shortcut there. And watching from high above in the trees was 
Lindir, who laughed at his friends' continual attempts to outrun each other. 
He never even bothered to join in, for he knew he was faster than both 
combined. He had always been fleet-footed. 
 
At the river, where all three elves would eventually meet, sat two hobbits. 
One had lush, darks curls, and startlingly blue eyes; the other, chubbier 
hobbit, was blonde, and a little shorter than his companion. Both were 
fishing happily, knowing that their friends would inevitably crash in on 
them soon, and enjoying the peace whilst they had it. The dark-haired one 
was called Frodo, the blonde called Samwise, but generally known as 
Sam. They were the best of friends. 
 
Watching from nearby was the dwarf, Gimli, and his twenty companions. 
The hobbits, he knew, could not sense the danger, at least not the way an 
elf could. They were also too busy having fun to notice when danger was 
nearby. But Gimli knew from a spy's information that the Prince, and 
potentially his friends, would appear soon, and they would more than 
likely feel his presence within seconds, so he and his team would have to 
work quickly. He was nervous, knowing that if anything went wrong it 
would be his neck on the High King's block. 
 
Sure enough, just as Sam got a bite, Legolas came crashing through the 
trees in a most undignified manner for an elf, let alone a prince. He 
flopped down on the grass next to the hobbits, playfully hugging Frodo. 
Sam was too busy with his catch. Haldir followed soon after, laughing and 
wrestling with Legolas, who he and Frodo began to tickle. Lindir appeared 
on the scene scant seconds later, not even out of breath. He joined in the 
tickle fight enthusiastically, nearly crying with mirth as his sensitive sides 
were attacked. Gimli motioned to his companions to charge whilst the 
elves were on the ground. As one, they rushed from the trees, and all three 
elves, sensing the danger just before it came, sprang to their feet. Lindir 
cried out as one dwarf's axe swung close to his head. He had never fought 
in his life, having been brought up by Radagast to hate weaponry.  And the 
others were no match for twenty-one armoured dwarves, being that only 
Legolas and Haldir were armed, and they only with two short daggers 
each. 
 
They were in trouble.  
 
The dwarf swung at Lindir's head again, who fell backwards in fear, as the 
axe swung towards him repeatedly. Just as it seemed he would surely be 
injured, Frodo side-stepped into the blade, which sliced into his shoulder. 
 
"Frodo!" yelled Sam, seeing his friend hurt, and rushed to help him. 
Legolas and Haldir were faring little better, having received several small 
cuts with were not fatal, but would need treatment. Within a few minutes, 
the friends were overcome and weaponless. The lead dwarf said 
something strange in dwarfish, and despite their struggles, the elves were 
bound. Frodo had fainted from blood-loss, and Sam was preoccupied with 
his safety, so he was no threat to the dwarves. 
 
"Well," the dwarf in command said in strongly accented Westron; he was 
a stout fellow with red hair, and an extremely bushy beard. "Ye dinea 
manage to win, did ye? Now ye all jus' hold still, and I'll check ye for tha 
Mark." He proceeded to pull Legolas' sleeve up, who gasped and struggled 
furiously. His father had warned him of the danger of being discovered 
bearing the Star Mark. But he was too well bound to prevent it, as were 
Lindir and Haldir. Together, all three marks were revealed, and Gimli let 
out a great bark of a laugh, saying, "All three of ye! Well, I'm a lucky 
dwarf, make no mistake. Come on, let's be off wi' them." 
 
"W-where are you taking us?" stammered Lindir, his wide violet eyes 
trained on Gimli, who, to his credit, looked a bit ashamed. This one wasn't 
like most elves, he decided. There was an even more innocent air about 
him than the other two had, and he obviously knew nothing of fighting. So 
Gimli smiled gently at him, as he said: 
 
"Ta Imladris, me lad, wi' all of ye. An' I'm almost sorry fer ye crazy 
elves!" With that, the bound elves were carried away, southwards, nearer 
to Lothlorien, where the elves of the Greenwood didn't dare to go. 
 
"Ada," whispered Legolas, as he caught his last glimpse of Frodo lying 
motionless on the ground, before they turned a bend and were gone. 
 
*************************** 
 
A/N: So, what do you think? Should I continue? In the next instalment, 
our heroes arrive at Imladris, Glorfindel battles with his inner demons, 
Gandalf worries, and Lindir finds out the truth about his family.  
 
Ada = daddy/dad - shortened form of adar.              


Dedication: This chapter is dedicated to my sister, Hannah, who achieved 
the top grade in all her exams. You go girl! 
 
A/N: Celebrian was the daughter of Galadriel and Celebrimbor. She was 
killed by a Sindar elf. I know Gimli's accent was dodgy, but I did it on a 
whim, and I couldn't resist! Thank you for all the reviews - thanks AJ 
Matthews for being my first reviewer on this, and I hope you're feeling 
better!    
 
 
Oath of Hatred, Bond of Love 
 
Tzipporah 
 
Chapter 1 - Hearts and Stars 
 
'O hell, to choose love by another's eyes!' 
 
William Shakespeare's 'A Midsummer Night's Dream', Hermia; Act I, 
Scene I 
 
********************** 
Greenwood the Great 
********************** 
 
"Frodo! Wake up, Frodo!" Sam shook his friend desperately, repeatedly 
calling his name, and Frodo stirred, but remained unconscious. The wound 
in his shoulder was still bleeding, and Sam began to fear he would die. 
"Help!" he shouted, so loud that it echoed around the eerily silent forest 
surrounding the river. 
 
Within minutes, a couple of blonde elves, whose looks were very 
reminiscent of Haldir's, sprinted into the clearing. "Riºmil! Orophin! 
Over here!" Sam yelled, relieved to see the brothers, but worried to tell 
them the fate of their youngest sibling. 
 
"What happened? We heard a commotion- " Riºmil trailed off, staring 
straight at Frodo. "Elbereth- where is Haldir? And Legolas, and Lindir? 
Where are they Sam?" He gripped the hobbit's shoulders fiercely, whilst 
Orophin tended to Frodo, checking the wound for poison, before tearing 
off a strip of his tunic to bandage it tightly. He looked up as his brother 
questioned Sam. 
 
"They- they were taken by the dwarves," Sam whispered shakily, 
sobbing. 
 
"Did they check for the Mark?" Orophin asked urgently. Sam nodded. 
"Oh- oh gods, what are we going to do, Brother? They have Haldir, and 
they're going to use him to - " 
 
"I know," answered Riºmil. "We've got to tell King Thranduil, and Lord 
Celeborn. They'll send a party after them. Come, there is nothing we can 
do! We can't take on a pack of dwarves alone! Let's go. Orophin, you 
carry Frodo, Sam, I'll carry you. We must hurry!" 
 
***************************** 
A few hours later 
***************************** 
 
Thranduil's first reaction was intense anger and worry. He sent battalions 
of elves after the dwarves, but it soon became clear they were too late. 
Celeborn could find no way to calm him down, anxious as he himself was 
about the Prince and his friends. Riºmil and Orophin retreated to their 
chambers with Frodo, whose shoulder had been bandaged properly, but 
was still weak from blood-loss, and a severely shaken Sam. But it seemed 
they could find no solace in each other's company, yet would speak to no 
one else, apart from Celeborn. The Elf-Lord feared the brothers would 
perish from grief - it appeared as though Thranduil definitely would. 
 
The dwarves' purpose, it seemed, was to take their captives to Imladris, 
not Lothlorien, as one might have expected. They would inevitably use the 
High Pass of Caradhras, which the Sindar couldn't cross, as it was fiercely 
guarded by Noldorin soldiers, dwarves, and men in their service, as was 
the Gap of Rohan. Once the dwarves had passed the Misty Mountains, 
Legolas, Haldir and Lindir were lost to them for good. 
 
There was only one device they might use to get help from the other side, 
but Celeborn feared he did not have the strength of mind to employ it. 
 
***************************** 
Imladris, two weeks later - Evening  
***************************** 
 
"They will be arriving shortly, Milord," Erestor intoned wearily. Elrond 
looked up from his work. He didn't even need to ask whom his counsellor 
referred to. It was written all over his face, in the disdain and fatigue 
colouring his voice, and the general gossiping that had spread through 
Imladris like wildfire. The Prince's arrival was a complete secret, so 
naturally, everybody already knew. And Gil-Galad could do nothing to 
stop it, for all that he was High King, Elrond was Imladris' Lord, and the 
people looked to him for command, or even Glorfindel. The King had no 
palace; it had been destroyed in the war, and he had not the inclination to 
rebuild. He was also far too comfortable living on the hospitality of others. 
 
"Thank you, my friend. You know you need not call me Lord. We are 
comrades, are we not?" Elrond smirked gently as he said this. He knew 
full well that the counsellor's formality was one of his many defences 
against being hurt. 
 
"Aye, of course, My L- Elrond, but it is not proper for me to- " Erestor 
trailed off then, at a look from the peredhel. He sighed in defeat, and 
motioned for Elrond to follow him to the courtyard, where they would 
greet their 'guests'. The Lord of Imladris was dressed in the traditional 
burgundy of his realm, and wearing his intricately crafted diadem. Erestor 
was wearing his usual forest green robes, not having dressed up for the 
occasion - an act of defiance for the reserved young elf. Glorfindel wore 
grey velvet, complimenting his hair perfectly. He looked every inch the 
Vanya, and received almost scathing looks from the dark-haired elves 
around him, although not to his face. Gil-Galad was dressed outlandishly 
in deep gold robes, the High Crown set upon his forehead. 
 
"Erestor looks like he's going to a bloody funeral," Glorfindel remarked 
casually as Elrond came to stand next to him, which caused him to choke 
back giggles. To their right was Gildor Inglorion, dressed in baby blue silk 
and pouting in boredom, looking adorable all the same, although not 
girlish. Having delicate features and being slender was the bane of his life, 
although his leadership skills were still highly regarded, and he was a 
fierce warrior, sometimes unnecessarily cruel. He had yet to learn 
compassion for the Sindar.   
 
"Silence!" hissed Galadriel, appalled by her son in law's childish 
behaviour, which only caused he and Glorfindel to begin laughing again. 
Gildor smiled indulgently, hiding his sniggers behind his hand. Gil-Galad 
looked extremely annoyed, as everyone had stopped paying any attention 
to him (which always made him angry, even more so than Elrond's and 
Glorfindel's disobedience). However, the sources of everyone's fascination 
were the three gorgeous blonde elves walking with their hands tied, in the 
midst of a group of dwarves. There were very few differences between 
them, apart from eye colour and height. The tallest elf had slightly sharper 
features, though no less beautiful than the others, and a pair of warm, 
gentle hazel eyes. The other two were of similar height; however, two of 
the elves seemed to be protecting the third, who had an air of childlike 
innocence about him, and a large pair of violet eyes. The other elf, whom 
Elrond thought was probably the Prince - he had an air of nobility about 
him, and several of Thranduil's features, whom Elrond had met only once 
- possessed wide sapphire eyes, which heldd both fear and indignation. He 
was trying desperately to hide the former. 
 
Gil-Galad, who Elrond expected would have been staring avidly at the 
Prince, was instead staring at the violet-eyed elf with rapt attention. For 
his part, Glorfindel felt sorry for the elf - Gil-Galad was no gentle 
lover- Ai! Who was that? Hazel eyes, soft mouth, perfect, silver-blonde 
hair. Tall and slender as a willow, probably the eldest, judging by his 
protective expression, though more than likely only a few years into his 
majority. If Glorfindel had to choose a husband from these three, he knew 
without reservation that he would choose this elf. 
 
"Welcome, Legolas Thranduilion, *Prince* of the Greenwood," the High 
King sneered. "Have you nothing to say for yourself? No pleas, no 
begging to see your ada again?" Legolas raised his eyes, and fixed a look 
of searing contempt on Gil-Galad, but refused to speak. Gil-Galad smirked 
and turned to the violet-eyed elf, saying in mock-kindness, "Any *you*, 
my pretty thing - what is your name, beautiful one?" As one, the other two 
elves moved closer to him, almost blocking him from the High King's 
view. "Very well! Be silent! Dwarf! Do you know their names?" 
 
"Aye. The one wi' dark blue eyes is Lindir, the other one is Haldir," 
answered Gimli shortly. He received a baleful glare from Legolas, and a 
downright growl from Haldir. He gulped and backed away quickly, 
ensuring they were not within biting range. 
 
"Well," said the High King, smirking unpleasantly, "I would like Lindir to 
stay and talk with us for a while. Elrond, Glorfindel - take the other two, 
place them in a secure room, and see to their injuries. I will speak to them 
again, later- once I have made up my mind- " 
 
**************************** 
 
The dwarves beat a hasty retreat, as soon as it would not be considered 
completely rude for them to leave. They collected their bounty and 
trudged off, only Gimli sparing a backward glance for the elves. His eyes 
held an unspoken apology. 
 
Haldir and Legolas looked both angry and horrified, as they saw their 
young friend led away by the strange elves. This left only Elrond and 
Glorfindel with them, and the younger elves both had the fleeting notion 
of being able to escape. But it was only fleeting, as they realised the older 
elves had millennia more experience on their side, and definitely looked 
stronger. 
 
"I don't think you need to be bound," Elrond said quietly, the deep and 
gentle tone of his voice surprising Legolas. Glorfindel nodded, and moved 
to unbind Haldir, who reflexively stepped back. The younger elf bit his 
lip, for the first time truly showing his age. He had spent the brief meeting 
with Gil-Galad silently supporting the others, trying to protect them, 
seeming much older than he was. But in the pale light of the stars, his 
tender years showed through, and Glorfindel felt a powerful surge of 
attraction, mingled with compassion, for the beautiful youngster. 
 
"I won't hurt you," he whispered softly, as he smoothly cut the cords 
binding Haldir's wrists, Elrond doing the same for Legolas. "Elrond," 
Glorfindel said quietly, "the chambers next door to mine have locks." 
Elrond nodded, and motioned for the younger elves to follow him, 
Glorfindel subtly guarding the rear. He appreciated the view. 
 
Elrond led them through three corridors and up two flights of stairs, before 
they came to four pale oak doors, inlaid with ivory and silver. There were 
large spaces between them, indicating that the rooms were of some size 
and grandeur. The furthest one to the left was Glorfindel's private 
chamber, Haldir was given the one next-door, then Legolas the next after 
that. A bathroom lay beyond the final entrance, which Glorfindel now 
entered, and located two pitchers of warm water, giving one to Elrond, 
who ushered Legolas into his room, shutting the door behind them.  
 
**************************** 
 
At once, Legolas tensed up, and prepared to defend himself, just as his 
father had taught him. /Elbereth, he must be so worried/- He backed 
away as Elrond approached him, setting the jug down on a nearby bedside 
table. The room was luxurious, with a large, four-poster bed, hung with 
light silk drapes, the whole room decorated in pale green and gold. But 
Legolas hardly noticed the tasteful decor, so intent was he on greatening 
the distance between himself and the Lord of Imladris. 
 
"Legolas- I only want to clean your wounds, I promise. May I?" The 
blonde beauty thought for a second, then nodded. Escape would be 
impossible if his wounds became infected, and he became ill. He dimly 
registered- Elrond?- telling him that the sedative the dwarves had used 
on he and his friends suppressed the natural healing ability their race 
possessed. "I'll be back in a second," the Elf-Lord said, going to get some 
healing aids he knew were in the bathing room down the corridor. Just in 
case, he locked the door on the way out. During his absence, Legolas took 
the time to check if his balcony doors were locked. They were. He then 
remembered something Gandalf had given him, in case he was ever 
captured, and he had worn it around his neck ever since. It looked to be a 
slightly over-sized, green amulet, but on closer inspection, it had hinges on 
one side. Concealed within was a small pouch, containing a small bottle of 
some clear potion. 
 
"One drop of it will stop you conceiving, only for a night, but use it wisely 
and sparingly, for it will not last forever, and it is impossible for you to 
make more. You need powerful magicks to create it, for it is designed to 
suppress a natural occurrence, even in males." This was all that the Istari 
had ever said concerning the potion, and of course, Legolas had never 
tested it. Now, it was his one hope, if all escape plans failed. Thus, he had 
to find a safe hiding place, before Elrond came back, for, kind as he 
seemed, the Elf-Lord would certainly confiscate it, maybe even knew what 
it did. For the moment, a ridge round the edge of underneath the bed 
would have to do, as he heard Elrond returning.  
 
The Elf-Lord returned bearing several bowls, each filled with healing 
herbs, soft cloths and bandages. He gently instructed Legolas to remove 
his shirt and tunic, then tried desperately not to touch the smooth, taut 
alabaster chest before him, rosy nipples standing out in the chill night air. 
He took in the extent of the damage the dwarves had done during brief 
struggles - one long gash down his right arm looked particularly painful, 
in addition to several shallow cuts on his chest and stomach, and a longer 
slash down his left side. Then he set to work.  
 
He filled several small bowls with the hot water, then set to splitting and 
sorting the various herbs, extracting those that he needed. Legolas watched 
with interest as the healer began to steep some iris root in the water, 
extracting the pulp expertly, and placing it in an empty bowl. He then 
gathered some mashed clover, and stewed it with alder bark, slowly 
creating thick broth. When all was ready, he knelt before Legolas, and 
with a cloth soaked in the steeped iris root, he began to wash the wounds. 
The Prince winced as the water stung his cuts, but didn't flinch, even when 
Elrond paused briefly to look at the Star Mark. He rubbed the cloth over it 
experimentally, wishing, almost hoping for Legolas' 
sake, that it would disappear.  
 
"You have no idea how many timed I've tried that," Legolas murmured, 
surprising Elrond, for they were the first words he had heard the young elf 
speak. He met the blue eyes, as Legolas continued speaking. "From the 
earliest age, I knew there was something dangerous about the Mark, that 
my father hated and feared it. I used to try to wash it off, every time I 
bathed. I used to make my arm sore, I rubbed so hard! But it never 
worked. It's hard, hating a part of yourself." He lowered his eyes, feeling 
as though he might cry, though he knew he would never shame himself 
thus. He jumped when he felt two fingers raising his head up, so that he 
was forced to meet the dark grey eyes of his captor. He was shocked at the 
depth of compassion and sympathy he found in the gaze. 
 
"Legolas, none of this is your fault, you know. It's the fault of others; of a 
few wrong words and gestures done by others long dead, that sparked an 
age old feud. There are many here who want that feud to end, myself 
included. I would love nothing more than to be able to meet with my 
Sindar kin, to get to know my family, or all that is left of it. I would love 
for my sons to be able to do the same." Elrond broke away then, standing 
up and turning around, so that Legolas could no longer see his face. 
 
"Lord Celeborn is your kinsman, is he not? He knew your mother, and her 
parents, and theirs before that. He told me of Doriath, its glory and its fall. 
He told me of Melian, and her wisdom. You have so many ties to us, yet 
you chose to be of the Noldor. Why didn't you choose to be counted 
amongst your closer kindred?" Legolas marvelled inwardly that he would 
dare ask these questions of a stranger. 
 
"Celeborn is my kinsman, and he knew many of my forefathers. I chose to 
be of the Noldor because Gil-Galad was my mentor, and begged me to. 
Despite all this however, I maintain that there is only one kindred between 
all of us." He turned to see Legolas looking at him askance, and Elrond 
finished quietly, "Quendi. Now, let me finish this. You probably want to 
bathe, but I would advise you to wait until morning. You are tired, and 
need sleep to heal your wounds." As he said this, he scooped up the root 
pulp and applied it directly to the deep gash in Legolas' arm, who hissed in 
pain. Elrond made a poultice, and bound it to Legolas' upper arm. "You 
need to drink this broth, whilst I find something for you to sleep in." 
 
Legolas eyed the mug dubiously. "What's in it, and what did you wash my 
wounds with?" 
 
"I used iris root on your injuries. It prevents infection, and will speed up 
the healing until the effects of the dwarfish medicines are out of your 
blood. The broth is clover and alder bark. Clover strengthens the heart, 
and alder bark purifies the blood." Legolas tasted in cautiously, and 
recoiled at the bitter taste. He took a shuddering breath and drained the 
mug stoically. Elrond gave him a rare grin, then exited the room once 
more. This time, he didn't lock the door. Legolas was too tired to run. 
 
****************************** 
 
Meanwhile, next-door, Glorfindel was undergoing a similar process with 
Haldir. Unfortunately, he had to ask the younger elf to remove both tunic 
and leggings, so that he could treat minor cuts on Haldir's torso, and a 
deep laceration in his thigh. An axe had bitten quite deep into his flesh, so 
much so that the blood had even soaked his leggings, sedatives preventing 
any healing of the gash. 
 
Glorfindel had sensed the elf's acute embarrassment, almost as keenly as if 
it were his own, so he tried to make things easier on him. "Lie down on 
the bed, and remove your tunic, boots and shirt," he instructed kindly. 
Haldir obeyed, albeit nervously. When this was done, Glorfindel removed 
Haldir's belt, and began to ease the leggings over his slender hips. Haldir 
blushed crimson at this, for, like many elves, he wore nothing underneath 
the form fitting leggings. He looked away as the elder elf pulled them 
further down, exposing his groin, then he hissed in pain, for his pants were 
stuck to the wound with blood. He grimaced as Glorfindel continued to 
remove them, peeling them back as gently as he could, finally sliding them 
off his ankles, folding them and laying them mercifully across his groin, in 
an attempt to preserve his modesty. Haldir decided that he quiet liked this 
elf. He didn't even look like one of the Noldor. If his name was 
Glorfindel- he couldn't be the balrog slayer, could he? 
 
As Glorfindel expertly tended his wound, Haldir was able to slyly get a 
good look at him. He wore his golden-blonde hair shorter than most elves, 
barely past his shoulders. He had jade green eyes, a noble brow and nose, 
and full lips. At that moment, he was chewing the lower one in 
concentration. He was a slender build, almost as slender as Haldir himself. 
He almost reminded Haldir of Celeborn - they shared several expressions, 
and gestures. He was a little too calm to be Thranduil. 
 
"There," he said, as he finished binding the wound, and forced Haldir to 
drink some foul tasting concoction, smirking as he assured Haldir it would 
do him good. "Does that feel better?" 
 
"Yes- thank you," Haldir replied, uncertain what to make of this 
particular elf, as he helped him into a pale blue night robe, which matched 
the blue and silver decorations of the room. 
 
"Good. Is there anything you'd like to ask me, Haldir? I will answer you as 
truthfully as I can." Haldir's eyes widened, but he nodded, as Glorfindel 
sat close to him on the bed. He was so close that Haldir could smell the 
fresh scent of the elder elf's hair. 
 
"I want to know what will happen to Lindir - when will I see him again?" 
 
"Lindir- ah, yes, I remember who you mean. I honestly don't know. You 
and Legolas are very protective of him, aren't you?" Glorfindel asked 
softly. 
 
"I suppose so," Haldir answered. "It's like an unwritten rule that we 
*have* to. He's not like other elves- he was brought up by Radagast the 
Brown, you know, and he wanted to keep him as innocent as possible. So 
Lindir won't even pick up a weapon, he won't fight, all he wants to do is 
be a minstrel - not that he isn't good at that! He's amazing. But he trusts all 
too easily, and he doesn't notice danger or evil well either, so Legolas and 
I do it for him." Glorfindel nodded as if he understood. Mentally, he stored 
away the information to give to Elrond. It looked like Lindir needed 
protection more than anyone. 
 
"Another thing I want to know is, what will happen to Legolas and I? I 
mean," he faltered, "I know what will happen, but how soon? And whom 
are we supposed to marry?" 
 
"I'm not exactly certain when you'll have to marry, or who. Legolas was 
supposed to marry Gil-Galad, although it seems as though he prefers 
Lindir. So that would mean Legolas would probably marry Elrond, but 
don't take my word for it." 
 
"And me?" Glorfindel turned to look him in the eye, seemingly unable to 
answer. The knowledge dawned on Haldir, and he stated, "It's you, isn't 
it?" Glorfindel nodded. 
 
"Most probably, yes. How does that make you feel?" Glorfindel asked, 
sounding almost uncertain of himself. 
 
"I don't even know you!" Haldir exclaimed, raising his voice for the first 
time. He looked especially beautiful when angry, Glorfindel decided. 
"And I'm not really ready to get married, or to have a child- and I don't 
want to marry just because you want me to have children!" 
 
"I know. Maybe I shouldn't have told you. But I was hoping we could be 
friends, at least. Do you like me?" he asked, suddenly cupping Haldir's 
face with his warm hands. Haldir nodded, throat too tight to speak. He 
suddenly missed his brothers very much. He jumped as Glorfindel helped 
him under the covers, and bid him goodnight, tenderly stroking his hair. 
He placed a soft, lingering kiss on Haldir's forehead, before exiting the 
room, locking the door behind him. He was met with Elrond doing the 
same thing in the corridor. "I told him," he whispered. Elrond shook his 
head, smiling sadly. "I really like him Elrond, and those eyes- I just 
couldn't help it. Wait a minute, I'm older than you, I don't have to explain 
myself!" Elrond laughed quietly, and said: 
 
"Sometimes I don't know whether to hug you, or just punch you really, 
*really* hard." Glorfindel feigned offence before laughing softly. 
 
"Come on. Let's go and find out what manner of havoc Gil-Galad's 
wreaking." 
 
*************************** 
 
"Lindir- how old are you?" Celebrimbor said slowly, as though Lindir 
might be too stupid to understand him. 
 
"I think- I think I am fifty, though I know not for sure. Master Aiwendil 
took me in when I was very young - still an infant. Even he is not sure 
how old I am." 
 
"You- you were raised by an Istari?" Galadriel asked, for once 
dumbfounded. She couldn't probe his mind. Something blocked her. 
 
Lindir nodded. "For most of my life. We came to the Greenwood a few 
years ago, and he placed my under the protection of King Thranduil and 
Lord Celeborn." 
 
A tall blonde elf that hadn't spoken before stepped closer to Lindir, and 
those around were suddenly struck by the strong resemblance between 
them. "You say you never knew your parents?" Gildor asked, looking 
intrigued, and also somewhat like he's seen a ghost. Lindir nodded again. 
"I think I know who they might be- he should have a birthmark-" 
 
"Another one?" Elrond asked mildly as he entered the hall with Glorfindel. 
 
"Yes. Now let me check!" Lindir stood obediently, if not a little fearfully, 
as Gildor peered at the nape of his neck. He had a small, heart-shaped 
birthmark. "This proves he is of my house! The house of Finarfin! You 
cannot have him now!" Gildor was beside himself, as he showed the mark 
on his own neck.  
 
"How can you be so sure?! Trace his lineage for us!" Gil-Galad yelled. 
 
"Very well. Orodreth son of Finarfin had a daughter named Finduilas. Ere 
he was captured, she fell with Gwindor her betrothed's child, and during 
his capture, she bore a daughter named Failivrin. This is no common 
knowledge, by the way. She married a minstrel named Dinithel, and they 
had a son, Duilin. He was wedded to a maiden named Tinwiel, and they 
had a son, whom they named Ingwil. Travelling back to their duties, they 
disappeared entirely, ad the child was never found. Until now." 
 
"Then he is my kin as well," Galadriel intoned, "and I give him to the 
King!" 
 
"Oh no you don't!" Glorfindel yelled suddenly, shocking everyone. Then 
again, he was the only person who really dared to argue with Galadriel. 
"Gildor shall be his guardian. I'm sure you are far too busy to look after 
him. And besides, if he is one of us," Glorfindel continued, silently 
praying that Lindir wouldn't contest this, "then he is free to choose 
whoever he wishes to bond with. He is in his majority, or so we believe. 
Let him say if he wants to be bonded to the King." 
 
"Very well then," answered Galadriel. "What say you, Ingwil son of 
Duilin?" 
 
"I say nothing, until you call be by my name. The only family I have is 
Aiwendil. He is my father in all respects but by blood." Apparently, 
Glorfindel wasn't the only one prepared to argue. 
 
"Then if you refuse to accept your lineage, you will be treated as one of 
the Sindar, therefore I command you- " 
 
"No. I will take care of him. No descendant of Finwi« can be commanded 
thus," Gildor put in quickly. 
 
"But he can bear children!" Celebrimbor roared. "He must marry one of 
the Noldor." 
 
"So he shall," said Elrond. "But let it be his own choice. And if he wishes 
to be known as Lindir, he shall be. I would advise, Gildor, that when you 
journey with the Wandering Companies, you leave Lindir here." 
 
"I agree. Do you, Lindir? Remember, it will be your own choice, though 
you must be swift in choosing." 
 
Lindir hesitated. If he accepted this, it would mean that he would not see 
Radagast again. And a slight fear was in his heart that if he ever did see 
his friends, or Celeborn and Thranduil again, they might not accept him, 
now that he was a Noldor. But if he was a Noldo, and apparently of a 
house of princes, surely he could help his friends, make sure that they 
were alright. Yes! He could do this! For once, he could be the one to look 
after them. 
 
"Alright. Just promise me one thing." They waited expectantly. "That I can 
still see Legolas and Haldir." 
 
Gildor looked surprised. "That is your sole condition?" Lindir nodded. "I 
think we can meet that." Lindir decided he sort of liked this tall, stern, 
rather bad-tempered man. And when he thought about it, he did look like 
himself. It was almost like looking through a broken mirror - some things 
were the same, but others profoundly different. For his part, Gildor had 
already warmed to Lindir, secretly amused by his disobedience, and 
especially by his disregard for Galadriel. Maybe the Sindar weren't so bad 
after all. 
 
His musings came to a very abrupt end as a messenger ran in, and straight 
in front of the throne. He bowed, then said hastily, "My Lords, Celeborn, 
Thranduil and Radagast are in contact through the Palantir."


Oath of Hatred, Bond of Love 
 
Tzipporah 
 
Chapter 2 - Far-seeing  
 
'Come weep with me, past hope, past cure, past help!' 
 
William Shakespeare's 'Romeo and Juliet', Juliet; Act IV, Scene I 
 
Legolas tossed and turned for hours, but could find no rest. Luxurious and 
comfortable as his room and bed were, he wanted nothing of them; he 
would rather sleep under the stars at home than in such extravagance in 
Imladris. He thought constantly of his father, but he didn't cry. He knew 
how much Thranduil would want him to be brave. Legolas had rarely 
cried in all his life, seldom having reason to. He remembered once falling 
and cutting himself, then sitting on his father's lap and wailing, until his 
father tickled him enough to make him laugh. He wondered if his father 
was thinking of the same thing. 
 
"Legolas?" He heard a harsh whisper coming from the room next-door. He 
knitted his smooth, fair brow in confusion, then realised who it was. He 
slipped gracefully out of bed, and over to the wall that joined his room to 
Haldir's. 
 
"Haldir? Are you alright? Are you hurt?" he whispered back urgently. 
Then, as an afterthought, he added, "I'm okay." 
 
"I'm fine. Lindir still hasn't shown up. I hope he's unharmed. Legolas, 
listen to me carefully, because I think I can hear someone coming, so we 
don't have long. Do you remember the blonde elf who looked after me? 
His name's Glorfindel, and he's the one I'm supposed to marry." Legolas 
gave a shocked gasp, but Haldir didn't pause to reassure him. "Elrond, the 
dark-haired one, he might be intended for you. You were supposed to be 
for their King, but now he…" Haldir trailed off, and Legolas now 
distinctly heard feet approaching them, moving down the corridor at an 
incredibly fast pace. Hushed voices became audible, and he recognised 
Elrond's amid the babble. 
 
"Are you sure this is a good idea, Your Highness? I really think-" 
 
"Of course it's a good idea. Hurry up, Lindir!" Lindir! He was with them! 
Both Haldir and Legolas had the urge to smash in their doors and grab 
Lindir, but it was impossible. Haldir then distinguished Glorfindel's voice, 
sounding every bit as annoyed and worried as Elrond.  
 
"Speaking through a Palantir is dangerous at the best of times, but with an 
Istari on the other side - who knows what he might do?! At any rate, I 
think we should leave Lindir with Haldir or Legolas. Seeing him could 
only make Thranduil and Celeborn more angry." 
 
"I agree. Glorfindel, if you have the key to Haldir's room…" Legolas 
heard the lock click next-door, then soft voices, on he knew was Haldir's, 
the other must have been Glorfindel's. Elbereth, how did Haldir cope 
speaking to the elf he would be forced to marry? 
 
Glorfindel was not surprised to see Haldir awake, in fact, he was glad. He 
looked carefully at the young elf to see if he had been crying. There wasn't 
a mark on his face. Glorfindel's heart melted at the sight of Haldir sat up in 
bed, looking pale and ethereal in the moonlight. His expression bordered 
between barely concealed fear, and hope that he would see his friend safe 
again. Haldir asked him what he wanted.  
 
"Haldir…Lindir will stay here tonight. Can you not sleep?" Haldir shook 
his head, then remained absolutely still as Glorfindel gently stroked his 
hair. He bent closer to whisper in Haldir's ear. "Would you like Legolas to 
be with you?" Haldir nodded. His throat was too tight to speak, as 
Glorfindel said something to Elrond, who went to get Legolas. The King 
stood looking impatient in the corridor, along with another blonde elf 
Haldir vaguely remembered from his arrival. Suddenly, Lindir was in the 
room. He stood for a minute, just watching Haldir, then launched himself 
at his friend. He fell into a tight, protective embrace, swiftly joined by 
Legolas. The elves hugged each other so close, it was hard to tell where 
one began, and the other ended, or so it seemed to the Noldor watching 
outside the door. The love between the youngsters was palpable. Lindir's 
head rested on Haldir's lap, who stroked his hair soothingly, and Legolas' 
arms were 'round Haldir's waist, and he clung to the elder elf desperately. 
The Prince had never looked younger to Elrond, and he felt both sorry and 
lucky that the slender, seemingly fragile elf might one day be his. He 
suddenly recalled his promise to Mithrandir - to protect Legolas if ever 
their paths crossed. He would honour that promise until his dying day. He 
would never hurt Legolas, all he had to do was to convince the young elf 
of that. 
 
Gil-Galad coughed less than discreetly in the corridor behind them, and 
Gildor tapped his foot impatiently. Glorfindel sighed, and bid the young 
ones goodnight. He was lost in his thoughts, despite his outward calmness. 
I should not speak to them…What if Thranduil says something, 
something that might give everything away? 
 
He shut and locked the door again, leaving Lindir, Haldir and Legolas to 
talk freely, and to take some small comfort in each other's presence. Haldir 
and Legolas were shocked when Lindir began to sob - painful sobs, 
wrenched from the very depth of his being. 
 
Legolas spoke first, still locked in Haldir's protective embrace. "Lindir, I 
know things are bad, but please don't cry! It…it will be alright. Won't it, 
Haldir?" Haldir nodded and smiled, though he couldn't be blamed if his 
expression was a little strained. But Lindir shook his head, still weeping 
forcefully enough to shake all three bodies. 
 
"N-no, it c-can't be alright," he sobbed. 
 
"What did they do to you? They didn't…" Lindir shook his head 
vehemently in answer to the unspoken question. "Then what?" Haldir 
finished, certain he wasn't going to like the answer. 
 
"Y-you d-don't understand. I'm one of them. I have Noldor blood." 
Legolas and Haldir both stared incredulously. "Don't you get it? I'm under 
their protection now, I have an Uncle. He found a birthmark on me worn 
only by the house of Finwë. I am a Noldo of royal blood. I don't want to 
be, though! Please don't hate me, I couldn't bear it if you hated me…" 
 
"Lindir!" Legolas exclaimed, sounding shocked. "Of course we don't hate 
you! You are as much a brother to me as ever you were! Right, Haldir?" 
 
"Don't be an idiot, Lindir! Whatever your blood is, you're one of us by 
adoption. How is it, though, that you bear the Star Mark?" Haldir 
questioned, one eyebrow raised in curiosity. 
 
"I must have some Sindar blood. Or maybe I was supposed to have the 
Mark - maybe it's fate. Like a way of drawing the Noldor and Sindar 
together." Seeing the looks on the faces of his companions, Lindir 
continued, "It's not so absurd! Remember what Gandalf used to say?" 
 
"I suppose so," Legolas answered, thinking fondly of the old wizard. 
"Does this mean that you're safe, then? That you don't have to wed?" 
 
"Nay! I must wed a Noldo, though he may be of my own choice. I do not 
know who I shall choose yet, but choose I must, or I have to wed the 
King! And I really don't want that to happen! What about you?" 
 
"Glorfindel. The blonde elf who was here a minute ago. And Legolas must 
wed Elrond, although maybe he will have to have the King now he can't 
have you…wait a minute, what am I thinking?! We're going to escape 
before any of this happens!" Haldir exclaimed. 
 
"I don't know," Legolas remarked. "I mean, we're locked in, we don't 
know our way around the valley, and they're probably all better fighters 
than us. What chance do we have? We're past help now, aren't we?" 
 
"You two are the best archers on the Greenwood," Lindir put in helpfully. 
"But I suppose that won't do us any good. Look, maybe if I marry this 
King, then he'll let me do what I want with you - I could set you free." 
 
"No, if you marry him he'll just have more control over you," Legolas 
said. "Anyway, let's just see what they say to my father through his 
Palantir…I didn't even know he could use it." 
 
"He probably didn't want to worry you," Haldir insisted gently. "And 
you're right, we just have to wait and see." 
 
**************************** 
 
"Give me my son!" Thranduil yelled through the Palantir. Celeborn bit 
back a sigh. His friend was handling this in a manner that couldn't 
remotely be described as calm. Radagast was also fuming, although more 
silently than Thranduil. Celeborn decided it was time he broke in. 
 
"We all stand here to represent one of the elves captured. And in spite of 
everything you have said about Lindir's heritage, he is still the son of our 
hearts. We demand to know what you plan to do with them." 
 
"Isn't is rather obvious," Gildor sneered. Celeborn thought that the elf 
would be very handsome, were he not so arrogant. "Lindir will have a 
choice about whom he marries, though he must be one of us. Lord 
Glorfindel will have Haldir-" 
 
"Will he?" Celeborn cut in, piercing Glorfindel with his gaze. "Is this the 
only way, Glorfindel of Gondolin?" he asked, looking sad, yet almost 
hopeful. Elrond had the feeling that there was something more than met 
the eye in this conversation. There was an undertone, the meaning of 
which he could not fathom. 
 
Glorfindel nodded, looking almost as sad as Celeborn. "And what of my 
son?" inquired Thranduil. 
 
"He will wed Lord Elrond-" Gildor began, until he was again interrupted. 
It was beginning to annoy him. 
 
"Oh no! He will wed me!" Gil-Galad roared. 
 
"I think not! Give me back Lindir!" Radagast bellowed. 
 
"Will you stop bloody well interrupting me!" Gildor shouted, loud enough 
to silence all of them. "Let Thranduil choose. We capture Sindar and raid 
their forest no matter what. So let him choose for his son. Elrond, or Gil-
Galad?" Celeborn shot Glorfindel a look, who glanced pointedly at 
Elrond. Celeborn whispered in Thranduil's ear. 
 
"I choose Elrond," Thranduil answered heavily. "But this is only 
temporary. I will have my son back eventually." 
 
"What if he's with child 'eventually'," Gil-Galad asked nastily. 
 
"Then I will take the child as my own grandchild. Anything that is a part 
of my son is a part of me, and his mother…" Thranduil's voice broke, and 
Celeborn ended the connection.



Oath of Hatred, Bond of Love 
 
Tzipporah 
 
Chapter 3 - Forging Bonds 
 
'For aught that I could ever read, 
Could ever hear by tale or history, 
The course of true love never did run smooth; 
But either it was different in blood' 
 
William Shakespeare's 'A Midsummer Night's Dream', Lysander; Act I, 
Scene I 
 
Glorfindel entered Haldir's room a few hours after sunrise. He had not 
slept at all that night, the dialogue through the Palantir had disturbed him 
too much. He glanced at his reflection in a floor length mirror on the wall; 
his braids were coming out and his hair was mussed, his robes were 
creased, and he had dark circles under his eyes. In short, he looked a mess, 
only his elven grace and natural beauty making him passable. With a sigh, 
he abandoned the gilded mirror, and moved towards the bed. He was 
greeted by a sight so sweet he was loathe to break it. 
 
Haldir lay on his back in the middle of the bed, his loose hair spread about 
him like a halo, with an incredibly sweet expression on his face. Lindir lay 
with his head on Haldir's stomach, curled up in a ball. Legolas had his 
head on Haldir's chest, and his feet dangling off the end of the bed. They 
all looked exhausted, even in their sleep. Glorfindel simply stood watching 
them for a while. He dreaded telling Haldir about their marriage, dreaded 
seeing fear or anger on the beautiful face. He dreaded Haldir crying, for he 
had yet to see the young elf cry; he was incredibly mature for his age, too 
mature. Glorfindel could tell that he thought he had to be brave for his 
friends; he was undoubtedly the eldest, and felt he had to look after them. 
He and Legolas both seemed to look after Lindir. But Glorfindel had to 
admit that his sole interest lay in Haldir - he knew he should be equally 
concerned about the other two's welfare, but his thoughts were filled with 
his future spouse. 
 
"Are you Lord Glorfindel?" Glorfindel nearly jumped out of his skin at the 
sound of someone speaking to him, and he forced his eyes away from 
Haldir's face, to look into the fierce eyes of Legolas. 
 
"Yes." What else could he say? Glorfindel wasn't often lost for words, and 
he rarely had trouble making conversation. It wasn't a sensation he 
enjoyed. 
 
"Why do you want Haldir?" Oh Gods, Glorfindel thought, how in Mandos' 
Halls do I answer that? 
 
"That's quite hard to explain, Legolas." 
 
"No, it isn't. Why do you want Haldir?" The relentlessness of youth, the 
Elf-Lord mused. 
 
"For several reasons. Although I know him little, I think he is brave and 
intelligent. He's beautiful, sweet, kind and obviously loyal to his friends. 
May I ask you a question?" Time to turn the tables a little, Glorfindel 
thought. Legolas nodded. "Why do you think I want Haldir?" 
 
"He can bear children, and you lust after him," said Legolas, blunt as ever. 
 
"Do you think that all he has to offer is his body? I certainly don't. I know 
you don't believe what I've told you, but I have more reason to protect 
Haldir than anyone else here. And I want to." 
 
"He doesn't have anyone to protect him, least of all you," Legolas 
answered after a few minutes. "That's the problem. He's always done his 
best to make sure that I and Lindir are alright, and he never shares his 
worries for himself. Now my father is looking out for me, as is Radagast 
for Lindir. Celeborn does care about Haldir, but he isn't everything to him. 
He isn't all he has to worry about. Of course, his brothers care, but no one 
with power is looking out for Haldir. He'll be traded off to you without a 
second glance, and you'll be free to do whatever you want with him. He 
has no one to speak for him." 
 
"Legolas, if you ever learn more about me, you'll know that I'll protect 
him," Glorfindel murmured softly, as Haldir and Lindir began to stir. 
Haldir's eyes returned to normal slowly, and he sat up, dislodging Lindir, 
who groaned and cuddled up to Haldir's hip. The young elf smiled, then 
stiffened when he saw Glorfindel standing near his bed. 
 
"What do you want?" he asked quickly. Legolas whispered something in 
his ear, and Haldir glanced at him sharply.  
 
"What did my father say through the Palantir? What's going to happen," 
Legolas demanded, in a very princely manner.  
 
"That's what I came to talk to you about. However, first of all, Gildor 
Inglorion requires to speak with Lindir regarding his future. Lindir, if 
you'd care to go next-door, you will fond some clothes on the bed for you 
to wear, and he'll meet you there in few minutes," Glorfindel said, as 
Haldir and Legolas prodded Lindir and forced him awake. He grumbled, 
then exited the room as gracefully as ever, in spite of his fatigue. "Elrond 
would like to speak with you, Legolas. He'll be in your room in a 
moment." Legolas knew this was an unspoken cue for him to leave, but he 
lingered by Haldir's side for a few seconds. 
 
"What about Haldir?" he asked softly. 
 
"I would like to speak with Haldir in private." Bright hazel eyes met his at 
these words, and Glorfindel could see the fear and worry Haldir was trying 
desperately to hide. His heart melted, and his expression softened into the 
gentlest of smiles. Legolas shot Haldir a final concerned glance, then 
hesitantly exited the room. Haldir sat on the edge of the bed, and flinched 
slightly when Glorfindel knelt before him, and took his elegant hands into 
his own. 
 
"So it's true then. I didn't think they'd change your minds." The younger 
elf's tone sounded hollow even to his own ears. His face became an 
expressionless mask. 
 
"We spoke with Celeborn and the others. It was decided that you would 
marry me, and that Legolas would marry Elrond." Haldir looked away 
then, mayhap to hide the tears that threatened to leak from his eyes. 
Glorfindel almost sobbed himself, and reached up to cup Haldir's face. He 
gently but firmly turned it towards him. "Please look at me, Haldir." 
Slowly, hesitantly, Haldir raised his eyes to meet the jade orbs staring at 
him with compassion and shame. "I won't hurt you. Do you understand? I 
won't hurt you or force you. But this is the only way I can keep you safe." 
 
"By marrying me against my will?" Haldir asked, tears springing to his 
eyes for the first time since his capture. "Let me go. Please, I beg of you, 
I'll do whatever you want me to first, just let me go." 
 
I'll do whatever you want me to first…Poor Haldir, Glorfindel thought. 
He believes the only way to gain help or compassion from me is to offer 
his body. "I cannot, Haldir, I cannot let you go…Haldir, have you ever 
dreamed of peace? I have lived two lives, in every sense of the word, and I 
am tired of doing so. A union, our union, it could help bring peace, I know 
this in my heart. I ask you for nothing, except that you allow me to get to 
know you better, and you me. One day, I will tell you what I want to tell 
you now, the one thing that would make you believe me…oh, Haldir, I am 
so sorry!" Glorfindel exclaimed, as Haldir began to sob in earnest. He 
pulled the younger elf off the bed and onto the floor with him, and took 
him into his arms. Haldir forgot his inhibitions for the moment, and 
pillowed his head into Glorfindel's chest, sobbing out his fear and anxiety. 
 
After what seemed like an eternity, Haldir raised his head, and said 
shakily, "It's not that I hate you or anything, it's just that…I don't feel 
ready. And I haven't a chance of escaping, whatever I and Legolas might 
have said. What if I have a child, Glorfindel? What happens then?" 
 
"Then you and I take care of our child, together. I wouldn't take he or she 
away from you, you know. I will look after you, no matter what." 
Glorfindel felt inexplicably happy at the thought of he and Haldir having a 
child together, of taking care of them both - of being a father. 
 
"I'm not ready, I'm just not, and I've never…" He trailed off, realising he'd 
said more than he meant to. "Does Celeborn think it will bring peace?" 
 
"That is what he hopes. But do not look too far ahead. Haldir, sweetheart, 
can we try to be friends?" 
 
"Sweetheart?" Haldir and Glorfindel shared a laugh. "Alright. I mean, I 
hardly know you, and I don't know why I trust you, but I'll do as you ask. 
For peace, for my people, maybe even for me, one day. So, darling, where 
do we begin?" Glorfindel burst out laughing, and Haldir joined him. 
Inwardly, the elder elf breathed a sigh of relief. That had gone far better 
than he had expected. And with a sense of humour like that, it looked like 
his potentially married life was going to be very interesting. 
 
****************************** 
 
Meanwhile, Legolas sat in the middle of his huge bed and waited for 
Elrond to appear. He felt filthy; he was still covered in trail grime, his hair 
unkempt and smudges of dirt evident on his skin. He was also very 
worried, and kept straining his ears in an attempt to hear what was being 
said in Haldir's bedroom. At one point he thought he heard someone cry, 
but he tried not to dwell on it. The thought of Haldir crying made fear 
claw its way up his throat - Haldir wouldn't cry, he just wouldn't. He was 
the strongest, he was Legolas' rock in the whirlwind of all the recent 
events. He felt selfish for thinking of Haldir thus, but he couldn't help it. 
He needed someone to depend on very badly. 
 
A few seconds later he distinctly heard laughter, and Legolas became even 
more confused. He was also so hungry, he thought he might be sick, and 
felt extremely dizzy. He closed his eyes, and tried to centre himself, but it 
didn't work. In fact, he felt worse with his eyes closed. He jumped as he 
heard a knock at the door - Elrond? 
 
"Come in," he said quietly, his throat to dry to speak any louder. The lock 
clicked, and Elrond entered the room. Legolas immediately noticed how 
tired he looked, and wondered if this was his chance to overpower him. 
But as he tried to stand, he realised how weak he felt, and his hopes were 
dashed again. 
 
"No, please, you need not stand," Elrond uttered. He sat down on the edge 
of Legolas' bed, a little too close for comfort. "Legolas," he began, but the 
younger elf interrupted him. 
 
"I know what you're going to say. It's written all over your face. May I ask 
you something?" Elrond nodded wordlessly. "Does this marriage have 
anything to do with the peace we spoke of last night, or is it purely about 
my…I mean, is it just because you want…" 
 
"About your body. Because I want you. No, Legolas, it's not about that. I 
mean, I don't deny that I find you stunningly attractive," he said, smiling 
as Legolas blushed. "But I do want peace, and so does your father, bitter 
though I'm sure he is about the feud. He was asked to choose for you, and 
accepted that it had to happen. Can we at least try? I do not wish to force 
you, and I certainly won't harm you-" 
 
"How can you be sure? Can you truly promise me that…that in the heat of 
a moment, or when we're married, on our…on our wedding night, that 
you won't change your mind once you have complete control over me?" 
Legolas was blushing furiously by the end of this speech, right to the tips 
of his perfectly pointed ears, but he had to ask. He knew his father 
wouldn't have given in so easily, at least not without a reason. 
 
"On our wedding night, I promise I will not touch you without your 
express permission. If I make love to you, I want you to desire me as 
much as I do you. But please, do not fear me. Though I've known you a 
short time, Legolas, I like you a great deal. You know, Gandalf has told 
me of you on his visits. He told me our paths would one day cross." 
 
"Did he? What did he say about me?" Legolas' curiosity was raised by 
Elrond's comments, although he was still acutely embarrassed by what the 
elder elf had said about making love. Legolas was a virgin in every sense 
of the word, as was Haldir, and especially Lindir. It was impossible for 
those who bore the Star Mark to dally freely, as they knew it could easily 
have consequences. Legolas had often wondered what it would be like to 
sleep with a male, yet now the thought filled him with nerves. 
 
"He told me that you were very intelligent, deadly with a bow, sociable 
and witty. But nothing he said does justice to your beauty," Elrond 
declared, gently stroking the younger elf's cheek. Legolas flushed and 
gave him a shy smile at the warm compliment. Elrond grinned back, and 
pulled Legolas to his feet, intending to go and speak with Glorfindel and 
Haldir. Nut he stopped short when Legolas swayed, unsteady on his legs. 
 
"Legolas? Are you ill?" he asked, deeply concerned. Then, the rumbling of 
a stomach became audible, and he exhaled the breath he hadn't known he 
was holding in relief. "When was the last time you ate anything?" 
 
"About…two or three days ago now, I think." Elrond looked horrified. 
"The dwarves felt the only way to keep us quiet, when their sedatives ran 
out, was to starve us into submission." 
 
"How is it that you have not collapsed already? Lindir was given 
something to eat, but you and Haldir have had nothing. Come, we must 
feed you, quickly. I do not want you fainting!" 
 
"Oh, we only have one good meal a day at home," Legolas said airily, as 
though it were completely natural. "It's hard to get food into the forest 
when our own supplies run out, because we are so surrounded by enemies. 
We are nervous to hunt, you see, not only because we might exhaust our 
natural resources, but because of all the elves being captured. So I am used 
to eating less than you anyway." 
 
"Legolas, that's awful! I can assure you that you will be well fed here. This 
valley has much to offer." 
 
"It is beautiful," Legolas admitted. "But you must remember I am a wood-
elf, and prefer the beauty of nature over architecture. We are a wild 
bunch!" 
 
"So I have heard," Elrond laughed. "But we do have ample forests here. I 
will take you to them soon." He unlocked the door, and all but carried 
Legolas from the room and into Haldir's. He fumbled for a key, and 
opened the door as gracefully as he could with Legolas slumped against 
him. "Glorfindel," he began, then stopped. 
 
Haldir was sat cross-legged on the floor in front of Glorfindel, who was 
brushing and re-braiding his hair. They were both laughing at something 
Glorfindel was saying, who looked extremely happy, although somewhat 
fatigued. He ran his fingers through the silky texture of the younger elf's 
hair, enjoying the sensation. Haldir stopped laughing and looked up when 
Elrond entered. Glorfindel smirked at Elrond, who was having difficulty 
keeping his coordination with Legolas wilting against him. 
 
"Need a hand?" he asked, mock-scathingly. "What's wrong with him?" 
 
"He hasn't eaten in three days. Neither has Haldir." That's sobered him up, 
Elrond thought. 
 
A train of expletives in Quenya came out of Glorfindel's mouth, before he 
asked Haldir, "Why didn't you tell me?! Ai, Varda spare me stubborn 
elflings! I am going to the kitchens right now!" 
 
"Yes, we can see that, Glorfindel," Haldir smirked. The elder elf shot him 
an exasperated look, then swept out of the room. "Is he always like this?" 
Haldir questioned Elrond.  
 
"Yes, I'm afraid so. He likes the attention, you see. I've done my best to 
cure him of it, but he likes the drama too much," Elrond answered in 
mock-sadness. The younger elves both laughed, then again when 
Glorfindel entered with several servants bearing heaped trays of food.  
 
"What. Has. He. Said." Glorfindel asked slowly and deliberately. Legolas 
choked on the food he was rapidly consuming, and Haldir banged him on 
the back enthusiastically. Legolas spluttered, and shrieked: 
 
"What did you do that for?!" 
 
"You were choking, Princeling! Would you rather I let you die?" 
 
"You nearly broke my back!" 
 
"Serve you right! Next time, I'll let you cough your guts up, and see how 
you feel then!" 
 
"At least my bone structure will still be intact!" 
 
"At least I don't hit like a girl!" 
 
Glorfindel and Elrond watched the banter with some amusement. Clearly, 
the two normally had a caustic friendship, and such behaviour was 
commonplace. The Elf-lords were comforted that they felt safe enough to 
argue. 
 
"That was a bit below the belt, don't you think?" Glorfindel said to Haldir. 
Haldir scowled petulantly, which made him look very cute. Legolas was 
pouting adorably. 
 
"Don't make me get Galadriel, will you?" Elrond threatened, which mad 
everyone laugh again, until a confused voice said from the door: 
 
"Ada?" 
 
Elrond spun round, to see two (literally) identical expressions of confusion 
on virtually carbon copies of himself. Oh Gods, he thought, the twins are 
home. 
 
"Elladan, Elrohir, welcome home. When did you arrive?" 
 
"Just now," one of the twins answered, although Haldir and Legolas 
couldn't be sure which one was which. Only Glorfindel, Elrond, and 
Galadriel with her mind reading, could tell them apart, as well as 
occasionally Erestor. One of the twins smiled, and moved to embrace his 
father, whilst the other one stared intently at the two Sindarin elves. 
 
"These are the Sindar brats, then?" he said eventually. 
 
"Elladan," the other twin, obviously Elrohir, said in warning.  
 
"Go to the Library, I shall meet you there in a minute. Is your sister here?" 
Elrond asked. 
 
"Yes, she is. And we can't join you, we've been summoned to a meeting, 
as prospective husbands for one Ingwil, also known as Lindir. What 
exactly is going on?" Elrohir asked, for the first time looking slightly 
annoyed. "If this is one of Grandmother's little ploys-" 
 
"It's not. You'd better go to the meeting, then. I'll see you afterwards." 
 
"Very well. Come on, Elladan. It's good to see you again, father." With a 
final smile at Glorfindel, Elrohir ushered his brother from the doorway, 
and they made their way to the council meeting.  
 
"I'd better go and see what's going on," Elrond said heavily. 
 
"Very well," Glorfindel replied. "I'll stay here. I assume you two would 
like to bathe, once you're finished eating?" 
 
"Yes, thank you," Legolas answered, and Haldir nodded.  
 
"Good. Come back and tell me what's happening, once you're done. Why 
do I have the distinct feeling that Gildor has done something stupid?" 
 
******************************* 
 
Lindir had been sat in Glorfindel's bedroom for some time when Gildor 
arrived. He had taken more than forty minutes to appear, so Lindir had had 
time to wash himself, neaten his hair, and put on the pale grey robes and 
silver shirt and tunic given to him. He looked at his reflection in the 
mirror, and shifted awkwardly. The robes were too rich for his tastes, 
made of heavy silk and crushed velvet, and the shirt was overly tight and 
uncomfortably high-necked. At least I look clean and decently groomed, 
he thought. Then he had sat down to wait. 
 
"Lindir…you look alright, I suppose. You'll do, at any rate. I'll see about 
getting you some clothes of your own later. Those were Elrohir's when he 
was younger. Come on then!" Gildor, Lindir decided, was quite a tense 
person, and definitely impatient. He was all but dragged from the room, 
and swept down several corridors. 
 
"Where are you taking me?" he asked breathlessly.  
 
"To a meeting. You're going to choose a husband, Lindir." He led him 
through several doors, until they reached the Great Council Chamber. He 
paused whilst two burgundy liveried servants pushed open the 
magnificently carved ivory doors, then practically shoved Lindir into the 
room. Gesturing at the assembled dark-haired elves, he hissed at Lindir, 
"This is all the Noldor nobility in Imladris, and of the Wandering 
Companies. Those two elves at the front are Lord Elrond's sons. I strongly 
advise you to choose Elrohir, the one in the pale green robes. He's quite 
nice, once you get past his twin." Gildor was worried, and it showed. Try 
as he might not to, he couldn't help but warm to Lindir. He wanted to 
protect him, and he could think of no one but Elrohir in that room who 
was patient enough and gentle enough to deal with Lindir. Elladan was far 
too hot tempered, and the rest a little too lustful. He prayed that Lindir 
would cooperate with his choice. However, it seemed Lindir wasn't the 
cooperating type. He surveyed the assembled elves with an almost 
scathing look on his beautiful face. Then, loudly and clearly, he made his 
choice. 
 
"None of them. You can go to Mandos if you think I am marrying 
anyone!" 
 
************************** 
Greenwood the Great 
************************** 
 
"Are you ready, then?" Rúmil whispered. Orophin nodded grimly. 
Celeborn had told them there was nothing to be done, but they refused to 
believe it. This had resulted in the first argument they had ever had with 
the Elf-Lord, even painfully shy Orophin yelling at him. But now they 
were resolved on what they were going to do. 
 
With all their elven grace, agility and stealth, they sneaked out of the 
palace early in the morning. They carried with them food, spare clothing 
and all manner of weaponry. Both had bows and arrows, although they 
were Orophin's favoured weapon, not Rúmil's, who preferred to use a 
pair of curved swords, and a long, steel knife. Orophin also carried two 
knives, given to him by Haldir just a year ago. Both were determined to 
get their little brother back. No one in power might care about him, but 
they weren't just going to abandon him. Even if it meant slipping past the 
Noldor at the High Pass. Even if it meant going under the mountains, 
through the mines of Khazad-Dum. They would brave all the darkness the 
world had to offer, if it meant they could safe Haldir.  
 
Or they would die.


I was originally planning to make Arwen a bit of a brat, but then the plot 
bunnies came to change my mind. So she's alright. 
 
For those who haven't already guessed, Glorfindel is something of a secret 
agent.     
 
Oath of Hatred, Bond of Love 
 
Tzipporah 
 
Chapter 4 - Homeward Bound   
 
'If music be the food of love, play on' 
 
William Shakespeare's 'A Twelfth Night', Orseno; Act I, Scene I  
 
"You must choose someone, Lindir," said Gildor, looking thoroughly 
perplexed at his nephew's stubbornness. "It will secure your place amongst 
us, and keep you safe when I cannot. I wish to take care of all that remains 
of my family. You may no longer see Legolas and Haldir if this is the 
effect they have on you! You will marry. It's for your own good. You must 
see that." The assembled Noldor nobility waited with bated breath for the 
young elf's reply, knowing it would not be what Gildor wanted to hear.  
 
As expected, Lindir delivered. 
 
"I am not your family!" he yelled. "Before you came, my friends would 
always protect me, and it was enough. If I were allowed to see them, I 
would not have to marry, would I? You may think me a fool, Uncle, but I 
know why you wish me to wed. I will not bear a child of someone I hate!" 
 
"All these are kind and noble elves, Lindir. Suppose you had not been 
raised by our enemies - is there no one you could choose to bond with? All 
are compassionate, and look at the beauty surrounding you!" Gildor 
replied, with as much calmness as he could muster, trying not to give in to 
his anger and frustration, and shake the gorgeous elf. 
 
"A twisted beauty, that would take from me all that I hold dear, and force 
me into marriage. There is no one I would choose," answered Lindir, a sad 
expression, one beyond his tender years, forming in his eyes. That he 
would dare to say that the sons of Elrond, and many other fair and noble 
elves, possessed only a 'twisted beauty', was beyond everyone. Gildor 
sighed in defeat, then turned around upon hearing a discreet cough. 
 
Erestor had been listening to this debate for some time, looking for a place 
where he could interrupt without seeming rude, and deliver his message. 
He felt sorry for the young elf, thrust into an unfair situation, and he feared 
for him, noticing the lustful glances spread around the chamber. Gildor 
broke his thought, saying, "Well?" 
 
"My Lord, I bear a message from the Lady Arwen, who wishes to see her 
brothers as soon as may be," he said, his voice miraculously steady under 
the glare of Gildor. 
 
"Very well. The counsel may as well break, for no good has come of it. 
We found him too late, it seems. Thank you, Erestor." Taking that as his 
cue to leave, Elrond's counsellor bowed, then gracefully moved to exit the 
room, stopped again by Gildor's voice. "They say you are a wise 
counsellor, Master Erestor. Perhaps you might consider keeping an eye on 
Lindir for me, whilst I deal with some pressing matters. You may even be 
able to import some of your wisdom onto your charge." Erestor nodded, 
and motioned to the young elf to follow him. 
 
Lindir stared at the new elf, entranced. He had never seen such gentle 
beauty before, nor heard such a pleasant voice in all his time in Imladris. 
He admired the tall, slender elf, his dark hair and pale skin accentuated by 
the wan morning light, and the dark green, stately robes. He accompanied 
Erestor out of the chamber, who felt quite uncomfortable upon having the 
blonde elf's keen gaze trained on him. Wordlessly, he led Lindir to his 
study, a small comfortable room, filled with papers both important and 
less so. He told Lindir to sit down, and gave him some water to drink. 
They talked for around an hour, maybe two, polite conversation about the 
valley only. Erestor found he had to do most of the talking. 
 
Eventually, the younger elf found his tongue, and said, "My Lord, have 
you some wisdom for me? I desire the counsel of one impartial in the 
matter." 
 
"Aier," Erestor said, wondering briefly what had made him bestow such a 
name on one he barely knew, "I am no lord, and I cannot give you 
counsel, I can only help you to talk. Why do you fear a bonding so much? 
Surely, it would not be a bonding of love, but love can grow over time - 
you must remember that you also are of the Noldor, and not all of us are 
cruel. The sons of Elrond, for example, are fine elves." 
 
"Little one?" Lindir smiled at the nickname, then blushed furiously as he 
said, "You are not cruel…and far more beautiful than all of the others. 
And in all respects but my birth, I belong to the Sindar and Silvan," he 
continued, trying not to notice the shocked expression of Erestor's face. "I 
fear marriage because whomever I married would have complete control 
over me. I am not strong - I am a minstrel, not a warrior, and could not 
protect myself. And…and I feel not ready to bear a child, as I know would 
be inevitable." It was the longest speech Lindir had ever made, but he was 
determined to get through it. 
 
Erestor's heart nearly broke at the sadness and fear in the beautiful voice. 
"Have…have you told anyone else this?" he asked weakly. 
 
"No, they…they would not understand. Maybe I could marry without 
love, but I cannot marry whilst fear consumes me." 
 
"Perhaps you should try to gain some friends amongst your potential 
husbands, then you could have someone to trust." 
 
"I trust you," Lindir answered, then turned and saw Gildor approaching 
outside the window. He reached quickly for Erestor's hand, and kissed it 
shyly. "Thank you," he whispered, before leaving the study and going 
towards Gildor. 
 
Leaving a very confused Erestor in his wake. 
 
************************** 
 
"How do you feel now?" Glorfindel asked, trying desperately to keep his 
self-control as Haldir stepped into the room, having just bathed. He wore 
only a floor length white robe, tied at the waist and exposing a small part 
of his beautiful chest. The garment clung to his damp skin, and his hair 
hung about him in wet tendrils - Glorfindel wanted to run his hands 
through it, and run his tongue down the exposed skin of Haldir's 
collarbones. 
 
"Much better," Haldir answered. "It's good to be clean…although I have 
nothing to wear. Legolas, you can go now." Legolas had nobly requested 
the second bath, feeling that Haldir had troubled himself enough for him 
recently, despite the choking incident. He stood up, smiled, and left the 
room. He had to admit that he quite liked Glorfindel. The Elf-Lord was 
gentle and protective with Haldir, which was something his friend needed. 
 
"I will find you something of mine," Glorfindel replied. He stood up, and 
went swiftly next-door, where he located a pair of leggings in a soft mauve 
material, which he thought might fit Haldir's slender frame, a white shirt 
that would certainly be too big for him, a belt, and a tunic in pale grey. As 
an afterthought, he grabbed some soft indoor shoes.  When he returned, he 
found Haldir brushing through his wet hair, sat cross-legged on the bed. 
 
"Here," he said, handing the clothes to Haldir. "They might be a bit big for 
you, but they'll have to do for now. Haldir, I would leave if you wish, but I 
need to check on your injuries. Alright?" 
 
"Alright," Haldir answered. He felt nervous, even though Glorfindel had 
seen him naked before. It was somehow different now they were to be 
married. He wondered if Glorfindel would touch him other than to heal. 
For the first time, he wondered if he wanted him to. 
 
But Glorfindel was a true professional, and although Haldir felt a little 
uncomfortable when he was naked, it was easier than he expected to be. 
"Your healing abilities have finally kicked in," Glorfindel told him. "These 
wounds should be repaired within a day or two. Would you like me to 
leave?" 
 
"No. There's really no point, is there? It's okay, it doesn't bother me." 
Haldir knew he was babbling, and he was grateful that Glorfindel didn't 
comment. He put on the clothes as quickly as he could, and finished tying 
the belt just as Legolas entered the room, in a similar state to that which 
Haldir had been about half an hour earlier.  
 
"As I thought," Glorfindel murmured, more to himself than Haldir. "A 
little too big. I'll have you some made, once you've been measured. And a 
ring." He looked down at his own hands. He wore a ring on the middle 
finger of each hand; on the right, a delicate gold filigree, on the left, a 
beautifully shaped golden flower, the symbol of his house. The  
gold ring on his right hand had been given to him in Valinor, at the same 
time as a the reason he was being sent back. He realised with a jolt what it 
was intended for. It had always been to small for him, as though it were 
meant for fingers more slender even than his own…but he couldn't give it 
yet. He had to wait awhile, had to be sure. 
 
"A ring?" he dimly heard Haldir ask. Then realisation dawned on the 
younger elf. "Oh…I do not have one to give to you." 
 
"It doesn't matter. I shouldn't have said anything, I'm sorry. I didn't mean 
to make you uneasy." Legolas was oblivious to their tense conversation, as 
he energetically flung his head up and down, sending water flying in all 
directions. It made Glorfindel laugh. 
 
"Is this how you usually dry your hair?" he asked, smirking. 
 
"No. Usually I climb to the top of a tree and sit there for a while, letting 
the wind dry it," Legolas retorted. "Or," he added with a mischievous grin, 
"I aggravate Haldir enough so that he will race with me, and my hair dries 
even quicker then." 
 
"Who usually wins?" 
 
"It's usually a draw," Haldir answered. "However, if Lindir decides to join 
in, then he always wins. And if Rúmil and Orophin appear, then it 
usually descends into a shouting match between Rúmil and Legolas." 
 
"Who are Rúmil and Orophin?" Glorfindel asked, his curiosity raised. 
 
"My older brothers," Haldir supplied. "Rúmil is the eldest, and Orophin 
only a few years older than myself." 
 
"Yes," Legolas laughed, "And you can blame his eldest brother for every 
character flaw in dear Haldir, because he reared him!" Then, seeing the 
expression on Haldir's face, he quickly added, "I didn't mean it like that! I 
didn't mean to bring up…" 
 
"No, it's okay." Seeing Glorfindel's quizzical glance, he said, "I was 
brought up by my brothers because my parents were killed in a raid on the 
forest. I don't remember them at all, and Orophin recalls them little. Only 
Rúmil really recollects them well, but he is loathe to talk about them." 
 
"I'm sorry," Glorfindel said, truly meaning it. "What are your brothers 
like?" 
 
"Rúmil is bossy, caring and witty, Orophin is shy, quiet, yet funny. He's 
also good with the bow, whereas Rúmil prefers to use swords. As for 
looks, Rúmil has golden blonde hair like yours, and Orophin has silver 
blonde hair like me, and he's smaller than Rúmil and I." 
 
"Do you argue a lot?" Glorfindel wanted to know Haldir better, so he kept 
up his questions. 
 
"Only all the time!" Legolas chimed in. "Especially Rúmil and Haldir. 
No one argues with Orophin, he's too sweet. Even my father never gets 
mad at him, no matter what he does, and Thranduil has quite a bad 
temper." Haldir muttered something that sounded similar to 'like father, 
like son'. Legolas glared at him balefully, holding his pout for about five 
whole seconds before he started laughing. Watching, Glorfindel thought 
there was such vibrant energy between them, an incessant banter which 
hid the deep brotherly love they shared. He liked it, it made him feel so 
alive again. 
 
"Lindir had just wreaked all manner of havoc in the courtyard, then gone 
to sit with Erestor for a bit, if you were wondering," a voice said archly 
from the doorway. All three blonde elves turned to look at an extremely 
annoyed Elrond, who stood sulking in the entrance to the room. 
 
"Oh," Glorfindel said. "Well, you can't blame us. Anyway, what manner 
of havoc has be caused?" 
 
"To the best of my knowledge - because I wasn't there, Elrohir told me this 
- he flatly refused to marry, and called tthe assembled nobility ugly." 
Haldir and Legolas snickered, and Glorfindel burst out laughing, wiping 
tears from his eyes. 
 
"Ai! He called your sons ugly! And Gildor! How did he take it? How did 
Elladan take it?! Ai, oh Elrond, you must see the funny side!" 
 
"There is absolutely no need to be so immature about this, Glorfindel," 
Elrond retorted angrily. "How old are you, hmm?" 
 
"Old enough not to care! Ai, come, I will sort this 'havoc' out with you, 
then." 
 
"Nay, you may do it alone for your insolence," retorted Elrond, with the 
hint of a laugh just evident in his voice. 
 
"Is Lindir alright?" Legolas asked worriedly. Elrond's face lost all traces of 
anger as he turned to smile gently at his betrothed. 
 
"Lindir is fine, do not fret Legolas. And I will speak to Gildor about this. I 
have already spoken to my sons." Glorfindel flinched, certain that they 
wouldn't have taken the news of their father's marriage at all well. 
 
"What did they say?" Legolas asked, also looking nervous. 
 
"They have personal ire with your people, Legolas, for their mother was 
felled by a Sindar elf's arrow. It was an accident, but they have never 
forgiven. They didn't use to fight with your people so often; now they do 
so all the time. Therefore they did not take the news very well, and have 
decided to go and guard the mountain pass, in case your people come to 
look for you. " 
 
"What of Arwen?" Glorfindel enquired. 
 
"I have told her, and she is a little angry for her mother's sake, but other 
than that she does not mind. In fact, she asked to meet Legolas and Haldir. 
She has just met Lindir, and they took to each other rather well." 
 
"That's one good thing," Glorfindel commented wryly. "She has her 
father's spirit, and Luthien's looks, so she should get on quite nicely in 
life." Elrond glared at his friend, but Glorfindel shrugged. 
 
"The weddings should take place within a week or so, to give you time to 
know Imladris a little better," Elrond said to Legolas and Haldir. And me, 
he added silently. He and Glorfindel would have to have the betrothal 
rings wrought of silver soon, and the golden wedding rings. 
 
He was interrupted from his thoughts, and the slightly uncomfortable 
silence, by a messenger arriving in the doorway. He bowed, and said 
hastily, "Milord, the Lord Mithrandir has arrived. He demands to see all of 
you immediately. He's waiting in the-" 
 
"No he's not," a gruff voice interjected. The old Istari elbowed the 
frightened messenger out of the way, and entered the room. "He's right 
here, and wanting to know what exactly you think you are up to!" 
 
************************** 
 
Rúmil and Orophin sped noiselessly through the Greenwood. They knew 
their absence would be noted fairly soon, so they had to be almost out of 
their home by the cover of darkness, or they would surely be found. They 
made it past the March Wardens by telling them they were on an errand 
for Lord Celeborn, and the guards had no reason to doubt them. The 
brothers planned to follow the Forest River for a few miles, then strike 
away and continue directly west until they came to the edge of the forest. 
They would then turn south and follow the Anduin until they came to the 
Old Ford. After slipping past the Noldor guards, they would continue 
directly west to the High Pass. Further than that they hadn't really 
considered.  
 
All through the morning they sensed no pursuit, even though their absence 
must have been discovered. It was only at noon, when the sun reached its 
highest peak, that Orophin sensed something following them. 
 
"Brother," he said quietly, "I sense something behind us. Yet I do not think 
that it is an elf, because elves move too quietly to sense. But its footsteps 
are too light to be human or dwarf." 
 
"Perhaps it is…no, they would not dare!" Rúmil answered. 
 
"Do you really think it might be them?" Orophin questioned. 
 
"I know not. Quick, let us climb this tree, so that we might better see our 
would be hunters!" they scaled the nearest tree easily, and perched high up 
in its branches. Sure enough, light footsteps soon came closer, and to an 
almost audible gasp from Orophin, their 'hunters' came into sight. They 
both had daggers at their sides, travel clothes on their backs, and grim 
expressions on their faces. 
 
And they were both less than four feet high. 
 
"Come on, Sam, or we'll never keep up with them," Frodo urged. The 
fatter hobbit was having even more difficulty keeping up with the nimble 
elves than the slighter one. "Unless you want to turn back…I mean, I'd 
understand if you did. But think, Sam, it could be our only chance to get 
home - ever!" 
 
"I know, and I want to see Rosie very much again." Sam's voice broke 
slightly. "I miss her so much, Frodo. And little Elanor, she must be all of 
ten years old now! And I only held her once before…" 
 
"I know. But dearest Sam, if you feel this is too much-" Frodo broke off as 
he heard a slight rustle in the branches above. He and Sam both yelled, as 
Rúmil dropped to the ground in front of them, closely followed by 
Orophin. 
 
"And what do we have here?" the former said haltingly in Westron. Only 
Haldir had really ever grasped that language. "Two naughty Hobbits far 
from home. What are you doing, my friends?" 
 
"Rúmil! I'm so glad to see you! Well, we're going to rescue Haldir, 
Legolas and Lindir, then we're going home to the Shire," Frodo explained 
hurriedly. 
 
"Little ones, you cannot hope to attack the Noldor," Orophin said quietly. 
"They are too strong for you. Even we have little hope of beating them. 
Our only option is to sneak past them, and rescue our brother and his 
friends by stealth." 
 
"But we feel responsible!" argued Sam. "And this is our only chance of 
going home. We offer our services, though we'd probably be more of a 
hindrance than a help." 
 
"Dear Hobbits!" Rúmil exclaimed. "If you truly wish to continue, you 
may follow us - we cannot have you slow us down. We will leave tokens 
for you to find, so you know you are on the right path. Thank you, my 
friends - your bravery and loyalty mean much to us." With that, the two 
elves embraced Frodo and Sam, then continued on their rather hopeless 
quest. 
 
********************* 
 
Thranduil sat on his private balcony, staring morosely into the distance. 
His gaze was always trained westwards, towards the place his son had 
disappeared to and was being forced into marriage. I should have attacked, 
he thought. He was so distracted that he didn't hear Celeborn approach 
him. 
 
"Rúmil and Orophin have vanished entirely. I know it is my own fault. 
Things have always been hard for the brothers, having no one to call a 
parent except for me, and how miserably I have failed there! If they are 
killed, or wounded, or worse it shall be my fault." 
 
"Nay, Celeborn," answered Thranduil. "'Tis not your fault. You couldn't 
have done anything different. Rúmil is wilful, and Orophin follows his 
lead. They are both capable fighters. And they do love you as a father, 
whatever your present differences." 
 
"What makes it…I don't know, worse in some ways, and better in others, 
is that I was planning to ask Glorfindel to court Legolas, Haldir or Lindir a 
few years from now. I felt they would be safe with him," Celeborn sighed. 
 
"And now? I'm sure he will take good care of Haldir. It is this Elrond who 
worries me. Surely, he is your blood kin from afar, but he chose to be of 
the Noldor. I cannot vouch for Legolas' safety, though Glorfindel seems to 
think he will be alright." Thranduil continued to stare into the western 
distance. 
 
"Then he will. And we must continue to rely on Glorfindel's negotiations 
and planning for the sake of our people. It these unions really can bring 
peace, then mayhap we should support them."



A/N: This chapter is kinda full of bittersweet humour, and it's not big on 
action - I'm trying to build bonds here, people! I've made a seriously 
interesting past up for Gildor (preens!), and if you hate him now, you 
might change your mind later. 
 
Oh, and just out of curiosity, would anyone be interested in reading a 
prequel to 'The Wisest Counsel'? It would follow Haldir and Legolas' younger 
years, the tragic love story of Thranduil and Earfea, and Haldir's romance 
with Curusir - pretty much all the events, right up to the attacks. I 
will eventually move TWC here, and then, well, you make up your minds - 
prequel, anyone? There *will* be slash in it! 
 
Oath of Hatred, Bond of Love 
 
Chapter 5 - Suffer in Silence (5/?) 
 
'Unnatural deeds do breed unnatural troubles' 
 
William Shakespeare's 'Macbeth': Doctor, Act V, Scene I 
 
************** 
Four days later    
************** 
 
Warm rays of sun filtered through the window of Erestor's private study, 
and kissed the silky blonde hair of the elf sat at his feet. Over the past few 
days, Lindir had come to visit the elder elf often, claiming he found both 
solace in his company, and sanctuary from his many pursuers. Erestor 
never turned him away, indeed he enjoyed having Lindir with him. He had 
to confess that in the short time he had known the young elf, he was 
admittedly very attracted to him. But he pushed such thoughts from his 
mind, believing that someone as stunning and special as Lindir would 
never want someone like himself.  
 
Nor would he be allowed to. Gildor was carefully vetting potential suitors 
for his young charge, constantly urging him to change his mind about 
Elrohir. It was actually quite sweet to see him care for someone thus; he 
tended to be a very hard person, showing the gentler side of his nature to 
few, perhaps only Glorfindel, and occasionally Elrond. He would certainly 
not allow Erestor to so much as breath too hard on Lindir. 
 
"You look upset," a soft voice interrupted his musings. Lindir, he had 
discovered, was rather sensitive towards his moods. "Is it something I 
have done?" 
 
"Nay, aier, I am only thinking," Erestor replied. Lindir moved closer, until 
he knelt directly before Erestor's knees, and, blushing deeply, he placed 
his slender hands on Erestor's thighs through his robe, a thrilling contact 
for both of them. 
 
"What were you thinking of?" Lindir asked softly, overcoming his shyness 
as he looked Erestor in the eye, an almost unreadable expression lingering 
within the violet depths. 
 
Erestor swallowed deeply. "You, actually," he admitted quietly. "I was 
thinking of how unfair things are for you. How you have no choice in any 
if this." 
 
"Do not feel pity for me. I am fine, truly," Lindir said, attempting a weak, 
worried smile. "I have one small choice, anyway. I can choose to whom I 
give myself. I do wish I could see my friends, but I do not have the energy 
to defy Gildor at present. But please, do not worry for me." 
 
"I cannot help myself!" Erestor blurted out, and, unable to stop himself, he 
pulled Lindir up to him, and kissed him full on the mouth. The younger elf 
went rigid with shock, but he didn't pull back. The kiss was brief, and 
when Erestor realised what he was doing, he pulled back and stared aghast 
at Lindir. "Elbereth! Oh, Lindir, I am so sorry, I didn't mean to - you came 
to me for safety, and I have betrayed your trust!" 
 
Lindir continued to sit and stare wide-eyed at Erestor. He was completely 
unaware of how enticing he looked at that moment; his moistened lips, 
confused eyes and mussed hair making Erestor want to lean in and take his 
lips in another hungry kiss. What was he thinking?! The elfling was 
practically one of the Sindar! He pushed Lindir away gently, and turned to 
go. He was prevented by a gentle hand on his shoulder. 
 
"Please don't go," Lindir said softly. "Please. You haven't betrayed me, I 
still - still like you very much." He stepped around and in front of Erestor, 
barring his path to the door. "I come here so often because I enjoy your 
company, because I crave it. Do you not know that there are other places I 
could hide? Other people who might help me? But it is always you. I am 
not wise, nor cunning, nor strong. But I know when my heart speaks to 
me!" 
 
"Lindir, you are not in your right mind, or you would not speak so - not to 
me." 
 
"My right mind? I doubt that I have one! But if I must marry, if I truly 
have no choice, then there is no one but you that I trust or admire enough, 
at all even. I know that I am far from perfect, that I can be annoying and 
weak, but I can change. And I know that you hate the Sindar, but I can 
make you see otherwise, I can!" 
 
Erestor simply stood there and listened to Lindir's outburst, shaken to the 
very core of his being. Was Lindir implying what he thought? "Lindir, you 
cannot mean this, you do not wish to marry me. I am far older than you, 
and your soul, your very self, it cannot be tied down to someone like me." 
 
Lindir gripped his shoulders surprisingly tightly, and demanded, "Do you 
like me at all, then? In the way I am attracted to you?" Erestor was about 
to shake his head, and deny his feelings, but Lindir's eyes seemed to 
penetrate his soul. He nodded gently, but firmly enough so that Lindir 
could not mistake the gesture. "That was why you kissed me." It wasn't a 
question. "Kiss me again." 
 
Erestor obeyed. 
 
The second kiss was tentative, sweet and gentle, all the things that Lindir 
was and Erestor longed for. The elder elf caressed Lindir's lips gently with 
his tongue, before they opened of their own accord. Lindir gasped at the 
first contact of Erestor's tongue in his mouth, but gradually he became 
used to the sensation, and before long, they were kissing deeply and 
passionately, hands just beginning to roam. Erestor had one hand tangled 
in Lindir's hair at the nape of his neck, and the other travelling down his 
chest, whilst Lindir's left hand cupped Erestor's face, and his right was 
stroking the elder elf's back. 
 
They  were pressed flush against each other when Elrond and Gildor 
entered the room. 
 
"ELBERETH!" Elrond's cry had the two springing apart, Erestor looking 
shocked, and  slightly guilty, though he really had no reason to be, and 
Lindir looking flushed and extremely aroused. Elrond simply stood there 
watching them, his jaw nearly touching the tiled floor. Gildor, however, 
looked far from shocked. He just looked livid. 
 
"Get your hands off my nephew, and get out of my sight," he hissed 
quietly, unmistakable fury colouring his voice. "I knew you wanted him, 
and have watched you covet him from a distance. I will not have such 
common hands sully such fine blood as his." 
 
"How dare you address him so!" Lindir yelled, as Elrond and Erestor tried 
gently to restrain him from speaking. "The only one who is common here 
is you! You act as though you are the highest nobility, yet your behaviour 
shows otherwise. You said I would be free to choose whomever I wanted, 
and I hold you to that promise. I am not so powerless as you truly believe 
me to be!" The latter sounded like a definite threat, and Elrond planned to 
ask Legolas privately what Lindir meant by that. He had, after all, been 
raised by an Istari. Perchance he had learnt some tricks firsthand. Perhaps 
he himself should speak to Gandalf, who was still fuming after the 
argument he had had with Glorfindel and himself on arrival. Fortunately, 
Haldir and Legolas had been out of the room when the old wizard blew up 
at them. 
 
"Powerless? I doubt that you are - why, look at you now, whoring around 
to find the most controllable husband possible. Well, Erestor may be 
common enough," Gildor sneered, "but powerless he is not. Quite a 
temper, have we not, counsellor? And a burning hatred for the Sindar. Oh, 
you'll do well together, I can see that. But don't come crawling back to me 
when your belly's full, and he's decided he doesn't like you anymore!" 
Gildor glared at Lindir and Erestor for a few long moments, before 
sweeping out of the room.  
 
Elrond was still having trouble finding the right words to say, after all the 
outbursts he'd heard, but he tried nevertheless. "Well - er - I don't really 
know what to say to you now," he admitted. "I think perhaps you need to 
discuss things further between yourselves before you come to any 
decisions. I will say though, Lindir, that you have excellent taste." He 
smirked slightly, then swept out of the room after Gildor, though he had 
more of a mind to find Glorfindel and talk things through with his old 
friend. Glorfindel had a better grip on Gildor than anyone else.  
 
When Elrond finally left, Lindir collapsed boneless into Erestor's arms. 
The other elf hugged him tightly, soothing him with both his voice and 
hands. After a while he asked, "Did you really mean what you said about - 
us? I mean, I know you didn't exactly say it, but were you serious when 
we kissed?" 
 
"I was completely serious. I don't really understand you, but I realise that I 
want to. I want to be closer to you. And I trust you, the way that I told you 
about when we first met. I knew, that day, that I'd found a kindred spirit. 
Someone I *could* be close to." Lindir rested his head on Erestor's chest, 
and sighed contentedly. "I will marry you, if you will have me." 
 
"I will, though I do not believe that I deserve you," Erestor replied, 
wondering why he'd agreed to marry someone he knew so little. But it was 
as Lindir said, there was a bond between them. 
 
"It is I who am eternally indebted to you," Lindir replied. "Come, let's find 
Elrond now and tell him, so that he can tell Legolas and Haldir. I do so 
wish that I could see them again." 
 
**************** 
The next day 
**************** 
 
Two blonde elves watched from an above window as Lindir sat singing to 
Erestor. They looked enraptured with each other, and Lindir's sweet 
melody sent shivers down the watching elves' spines, though they had 
heard the song often enough before.  
 
"He's not really *that* handsome," Haldir announced, cocking his head to 
one side and moving to get a better view, pushing Legolas away from the 
window in the process.  
 
"Hey!" Legolas retorted angrily. "And he *is*. Well, not as handsome as 
Lindir, but then who is?"  
 
"Not telling me you've fallen for Noldor-dark elves, are you?" Haldir 
replied easily. "High treason lies there, sweet prince."  
 
"In much the same way that admiring Glorfindel does, hmm?" Legolas 
shot back. Haldir growled, and tackled Legolas to the floor, mussing the 
carefully fixed dress robes to be used in the wedding ceremony. 
 
"You two!" the head tailor screamed, beside himself with anger. "Stop that 
this instant! I will not have you ruining your wedding clothes before 
you've even properly worn them." 
 
"I don't like them anyway," Legolas yelled back from the headlock Haldir 
had him in. "I'd much prefer to just wear leggings and a tunic!" 
 
"Yeah, this collar's cutting my head off!" Haldir added, breaking his 
chokehold on Legolas, now united with his friend. "Can't we wear 
something a little less restrictive? So that we can actually move and 
speak?" 
 
"These are robes of the finest silk!" the tailor retorted, clearly offended. 
"Although judging by the clothes you came here in, you aren't really used 
to finery, are you?" he added nastily. Legolas stepped forward 
menacingly, and the tailor changed his mind, gulped, and stepped 
backwards.  
 
Right into Elrond and Glorfindel.  
 
"You know, that really was uncalled for," Glorfindel said pleasantly. "A 
little vicious today, aren't we?" 
 
The tailor turned, if indeed it was possible, an even brighter shade of red. 
"My Lords!" he squeaked, "I apologise completely, but you do see my 
dilemma, I hope?" 
 
"We do, and will deal with it as we see fit," Elrond answered calmly, 
shooting Legolas a smile. "I think your business here is finished for now." 
The tailor left, muttering something about Sindar ignorance. There was a 
slightly embarrassing silence left in his wake, and Haldir shifted 
uncomfortably under Glorfindel's intense scrutiny. Glorfindel always 
looked at him thus, as though he was the only one he saw. As though he 
were special. 
 
In fact, Glorfindel was intensely attracted to Haldir, on more than just a 
physical level. The younger elf needed to know just how dazzling he was. 
However, at that moment, Glorfindel was merely admiring the way the 
pale blue and silver dress robes accentuated his lovely silvery-blonde hair, 
and showed his slightly-too-thin figure off perfectly. His cheeks were 
somewhat pink, as though he was either self-conscious, or had been 
engaged in some form of physical activity. Glorfindel wondered if he 
would look the same with the paint of arousal staining his cheeks. 
 
Legolas was similarly - if not a little more - mussed, his braids coming 
out, and his robe hanging slightly off one skinny shoulder. Elrond thought 
he looked lovely, natural, yet unbearably young. It brought all of Gandalf's 
criticisms back to the surface. Both of the young blonde elves looked 
slightly guilty, and more than a little angry. Legolas was obviously the 
more quick-tempered of the two, if his clenched fists and furious 
expression were anything to go by. Haldir's fury was more slow burning. 
 
Eventually, Glorfindel broke the uncomfortable silence, saying softly, 
"You know that we do not side with him? That I, personally, detest him?" 
Haldir and Legolas grinned rather awkwardly, and Haldir's smile was 
sweetly shy. Glorfindel supposed that the tailoring of wedding clothes 
made everything more real - they truly would be married very soon. 
Glorfindel wanted to talk to Haldir some more, mainly about their 
wedding night. He didn't want the younger elf to be afraid of him, or what 
they might do, and he had no idea what Haldir already knew about making 
love with another, particularly a male. Although perhaps he would save 
*that* talk for the night -  
 
Elrond broke his train of thought saying, "Legolas, can I speak with you in 
private a moment?" He didn't want to embarrass his betrothed by giving 
him the gift he had prepared in front of Haldir. He also wanted to tell 
Legolas in private of his plans for the day. The younger elves needed to be 
outside, near to nature. What was it Legolas had said about wood-elves -  
 
"Of course," Legolas replied hesitantly. He shot a curious glance at Haldir, 
who shrugged slightly, before exiting the room along with Elrond. 
Glorfindel, after a moments pause, went to sit in the window seat the two 
younger elves had previously occupied and fought over. Thinking about it, 
Haldir wondered why they had come to blows at all; one entire wall of the 
room was virtually all windows, and all afforded roughly the same view. 
The other walls were draped with gauzy fabric, and against them were 
piled over a hundred different bolts of material, in more shades than the 
Sindar elves had ever seen.  
 
Glorfindel finished the silence at last, saying quietly, "They seem happy." 
Haldir assumed he was referring to Erestor and Lindir, and he had to 
agree. Taking a few slow steps forward, he found himself sitting down 
next to the elder elf, and wondered when his brain had transferred itself to 
his feet. He was so close to Glorfindel that he could see every separate 
strand of his hair, and he knew by the other elf's quickened breathing that 
he was startled. He wasn't the only one. 
 
At length, Haldir found his voice, and he realised Glorfindel was still 
waiting for an answer. "I suppose they do - I'm glad for Lindir." 
 
Glorfindel turned and looked him full in the face. "You won't have to 
worry about him now." 
 
"I still do," Haldir replied, taken aback. "I don't even know what sort of 
person Erestor is, whether or not I can trust him, how he will treat Lindir - 
of course I still have to worry." 
 
"I'm telling you that you don't. Erestor is - well, Lindir couldn't have 
chosen a better person to marry here. I have known Erestor since he was a 
child, indeed I had a hand in bringing him up, so I can vouch for his 
character. He will treat Lindir with the utmost kindness and compassion. I 
believe they are actually very attracted to each other." Glorfindel halted, 
and looked away. "But this isn't why I want to talk to you. You don't like 
the outfit?" He was smirking now. 
 
"Well," Haldir said, becoming a little flustered. "I mean, it's lovely, but I'm 
just not comfortable in it. I never worn anything like this." 
 
"You look beautiful in it. Stunning." 
 
"I look beautiful? I don't think I - I mean, thank you," Haldir replied, 
blushing shyly. He never knew how to take Glorfindel's compliments. In 
fact, he never knew how to take his moods. Sometimes he seemed happy, 
other times playful, and more often than not, serious or sad. And now, 
Haldir knew that he was depressed. Deciding to plunge straight in, he 
asked, "Is there something wrong?" 
 
Glorfindel was silent for a moment, as if pondering his answer. Finally, he 
said, "I will answer that question a little later, Haldir. Anyhow, I actually 
have something to offer you today." He took a deep breath. "Would you 
like to come riding with me? I want to show Rivendell to you - I thought 
perhaps we might venture into the pine forest, away from the house. It's 
just that you need to be outside for a while, lest you go mad cooped up in 
here! Of course, I understand if you don't wish to," he added quickly.  
 
Without really thinking, Haldir responded quickly, "Yes, I would like to 
come. When do you want to do this?" Glorfindel was smiling fondly at 
him now, and Haldir felt inexplicably gratified that he could produce such 
a reaction. 
 
"In an hour or so. I'll give you something to wear, then we'll go down to 
the stables. Do you mind if we only use my horse? Gil-Galad won't take 
kindly to me stealing all his mounts." 
 
"That's fine. I haven't seen *him* for a few days now - where is he?"  
 
"Preparing to go back to Lothlorien, with Galadriel and Celebrimbor," 
Glorfindel answered. "He probably won't want to see the weddings, his 
losses have caused him enough chagrin already." Haldir chuckled softly, 
then gasped in surprise as Glorfindel suddenly grabbed his hand and 
turned to face him. "Haldir, do you hate me?" he questioned worriedly. 
Taken aback, Haldir shook his head. 
 
"I - I don't hate you. I'm not sure what I feel. Perhaps, like you, I can 
answer the question later?" Glorfindel laughed faintly, and stood up to 
leave the room in search of clothes. He was shocked when Haldir kept 
hold of his hand, and stood up with him. "Do you hate me?" the younger 
elf queried. 
 
"No!" Glorfindel gasped. "Of course I don't hate you! Haldir, it's me in the 
wrong here - you're the innocent victim." Haldir thought he detected a 
twist of bitterness to the word 'innocent', and wondered just how soundly 
Gandalf had reprimanded Glorfindel and Elrond. The former kissed him 
gently on the cheek, before walking swiftly from the room. Haldir shook 
his head, as if to clear it. What on Arda was he thinking? 
 
*********************** 
 
Elrond led Legolas to his own chambers, almost missing the slight 
hesitation on the young one's face as Elrond motioned for him to enter. 
Legolas sat down uncomfortably in the proffered chair, twisting his hands 
agitatedly in his lap. The elder elf chuckled at the petulant expression on 
his face. 
 
"What?" Legolas asked indignantly, his smooth brow creasing into a 
frown. Elrond said nothing in reply, simply sitting down and staring 
intently at the blonde elf. Legolas quickly became unnerved, and was 
about to say something, when Elrond finally spoke. 
 
"Do you remember what you said to me, a few days ago? That you're a 
wood-elf, and prefer to be amongst the trees, than trapped inside? Would 
you like to see the rest of Imladris with me? Perhaps we could picnic." 
 
Legolas blinked in surprise - it was not remotely near what he had been 
expecting Elrond to say. "I suppose so - yes, that would be lovely," he 
answered, mouth rather than brain in control. Elrond smiled, and stroked 
his hair lightly. He longed to tangle his fingers properly in the silken 
threads, then bring his mouth down on Legolas' in a deep kiss - Elrond 
shook his head to clear it of such licentious thoughts. He could talk to the 
young elf properly during their excursion. There were several things he 
needed to give to him as well. Mithrandir had been well prepared -  
 
He arranged to collect a more appropriately clothed Legolas from his 
room a little later. Then the ebony-haired elf went towards his wardrobe, 
and began pulling clothes from it at random. Not for the first time in his 
considerably long life, he felt extremely nervous - he didn't want to scare 
Legolas, he just wanted to know him better, and in turn, gain his 
friendship and trust.

A little over an hour later, Haldir met Glorfindel in the stables, having 
been guided there by Mithrandir. The Istari had struck up a conversation 
with him, and then offered to meet Glorfindel with him. Haldir declined, 
thinking it best that the elder elf didn't see the wizard for a while, sensing 
that they were still at odds. But he did ask to be shown the way, and 
Gandalf had left him at the stable doors, with several words of caution, 
and an angry diatribe at Glorfindel, though the elf was not there to hear it. 
 
Heaving a sigh of relief, Haldir stepped into the quiet confines of the 
stable. If truth be told, he had only ever ridden once, and was glad that 
Glorfindel decided to take both of them on his horse. Haldir spied 
Glorfindel almost immediately, grooming a lovely white horse at the far 
end of the stables, and singing softly to it in Quenya. He looked up when 
Haldir came closer, and smiled, stopping his song abruptly. 
 
"He can be quite high-spirited sometimes," he said by way of explanation. 
"He likes to be sung to. It calms him down." 
 
"What's his name?" Haldir asked, whilst trying to stare discreetly at the 
admittedly pleasant sight of Glorfindel in his leggings. He had abandoned 
his formal robes, and was clad in a white tunic, embroidered with pale 
green thread, black breeches and a white shirt underneath. His boots came 
up to his knees, and were of black leather. Haldir felt a little underdressed, 
because even out of his formal gear, Glorfindel looked extremely smart. 
Haldir himself wore matching tunic and leggings, both being of a dark 
grey material, and a pale blue shirt underneath. His feet were clad in 
brown leather boots, coming to a little below his knees.  
 
"Asfolath," Glorfindel replied. "Well, come here. Would you rather sit in 
front or behind? I'd rather you were in front of me, though I'll still lead 
him." His motive - that he wanted to feel Haldir against his body, and gain 
the chance to be able to bury his face in the younger elf's silken hair - 
wasn't purely selfish, for he realised Haldir couldn't have had much riding 
experience, and he didn't want to embarrass him.  
 
"That's fine," Haldir answered. He carefully climbed up on the horse, 
relieved when he didn't make a fool of himself, and a moment later he felt 
the saddle dip as Glorfindel mounted behind him. Oh Gods, he thought, I 
didn't realise he was going to be this close. His back was pressed right 
against Glorfindel's chest, and he could feel warm breath ghost across his 
cheek. He jumped when Glorfindel's strong arms encircled his waist, 
taking hold of the reins and guiding the horse from the stables, and away 
from the main buildings, nearer to the woods.  
 
With every step the horse took, Haldir's body moved against Glorfindel's, 
and he flushed at the sensations this created inside him. He felt hot and 
flustered, especially when he sensed Glorfindel's face press into his hair. 
The elder elf's warm breath became 
concentrated on the back of his neck, sending shivers through his slender 
body. It was the closest to an embrace they had ever come, and Haldir 
began to feel *very* strange. He felt almost giddy, light-headed, yet at the 
same time very apprehensive. He had never known how sensual a horse 
ride could be until now. He had never been so close to anyone, and he felt 
so confused; even more so when one of Glorfindel's hands left the reins, 
and began to stroke his chest. 
 
"Relax, Haldir. What's the matter?" 
 
Haldir began to tremble, though he didn't know why. "I c-can't - I, I've n-
never," he stuttered, lost for words. 
 
Glorfindel felt terrible. He hadn't realised how deeply such close contact 
might affect the other elf. He'd only wanted to show Haldir that he was 
attracted to him, and in turn find out if the younger elf felt anything 
similar, or if such feelings could be aroused in him. "It's alright," he 
soothed, using his free arm to hug Haldir tightly, in what he hoped would 
be taken as a comforting gesture. "We'll stop in a second, and have a rest 
and something to eat, okay? Shh, it's alright." He spurred the horse into a 
trot, noticing that they were entering the verge of the pine forests he had 
intended for them to visit. He came swiftly to a halt upon entering, 
dismounted, pulled Haldir to his feet, and grabbed a bag of supplies, 
before heading towards a glade he knew was located nearby. He held 
Haldir's hand tightly as they walked. 
 
They reached the glade quickly, Glorfindel pulling Haldir down to the 
grass with him, so that they sat facing each other, legs almost intertwined, 
foreheads close to touching. Glorfindel gently lifted Haldir's chin, so that 
their eyes met. Haldir's cheeks were burning, and his whole body felt hot 
and shaky. Glorfindel scrutinised Haldir's features, searching for any trace 
of fear. He was horrified to see that terror was written into every pore of 
the younger elf's face, especially into his large, soulful eyes. The hazel 
orbs refused to meet his jade ones for longer than a few seconds at a time.  
 
"Haldir - darling, look at me." The term of endearment rolled easily from 
his lips. "I'm sorry, I truly didn't mean to make you so uncomfortable. But 
Haldir, there are things we need to talk about. I realise that you're unhappy 
here, that you're frightened and angry. I know that I'm probably the last 
person on earth you want to marry, and I understand that you're terrified of 
our wedding night." 
 
Haldir's head shot up at the mention of wedding nights, and he coloured 
again. Gods, what could he say? It was true; he hadn't really dwelt on it 
too much in the first whirlwind da