Title:  The Face of the Sun 1-2/?
Author:  Nildrohain (nildrohain44@yahoo.com)
Rating:  G (for this part)
Paring:  Haldir/Legolas 
Summary: Legolas and Haldir meet for the first time, and an infatuation 
develops—but on whose part?  A story of agape with neither party knowing where 
to draw the line until it is too late.
Disclaimer:  It hardly matters
Feedback:  I welcome it
Warnings:  None yet.  The story gets considerably rougher in later 
chapters, but I will offer appropriate warnings at those times.
A/N:  This is more a story of agape, but with a degree of confusion on the 
part of both parties over where to draw the line.  The story does not 
completely follow the plotlines of book or movie.  I've exercised a bit of 
creative license, so I ask forgiveness from those readers who are married 
to a study of details!  Note:  Nikerym means Captain.  I use it in those 
parts of the dialogue where Haldir is being addressed by fellow Elves.  
Primordial and Quenyan Elvish appear from time to time.  In fact, one of 
the "prayers" that appears is lifted from a direct translation by Tolkien of a 
Christian prayer, and while it appears in Quenyan, in my story, it's 
supposed to be Primordial Elvish.  Sorry, but that Primordial stuff is 
dreadfully hard to do!

Chapter 1	Meeting for the Last Time

"They're frightened.  You can see it in their eyes.  And they should be.  
Three hundred against ten thousand.  They can not win this battle.  They 
will all die!"
	
Why had he said it?  How had this despair crept into his heart?  This 
despair that was so different from dread or misgiving, for it carried with it 
the weight of hopelessness.  And it was this element of hopelessness that 
most disturbed Legolas, for it was altogether new to him, and its 
acquaintance was unwelcome.  How was he to fight when victory seemed 
impossible?  Would he then only be fighting for valor or to take as many 
of the fiend with him as possible before meeting his own end?

Then I shall die as one of them!

Or was he, like Aragorn, fighting because there was no other choice?  
Making a good death for himself?

Legolas paced the length of the Deeping wall, vaguely trying to formulate 
some kind of plan as to how Rohan's limited manpower was to defend the 
expanse.  Yet, his mind could not be fully diverted from the distressing 
thoughts that had followed him from the moment he had left the armory.
	
No other choice.  A good death.  Valor.  To put up a good fight.

These were the reasons for fighting that he had conjured; yet, they all rang 
hollow.  None of them were the true reason.  But under the gathering 
darkness, truth was not so easily discerned, not even for an elf as keen as 
the Prince of Mirkwood—especially now, with his mind so clouded by 
grief and loss.

Gandalf.  Boromir.  The breaking of the fellowship.  The way the journey 
seemed to be no more than a progression from one confrontation to the 
next.  Still, there was an even greater loss, if indeed it be a loss—one 
which he would not permit himself to dwell upon.  There was no sense in 
courting possible miseries when there were enough actual ones facing him 
directly.

Legolas stopped his pacing and looked out over the plain in the fading 
light.  The scene was one of serenity; and yet, in a matter of hours, all of 
that would change.  The fighting would begin, and all indications were that 
the battle would be short-lived.	Victory was not even conceivable.

So, why was he fighting?

Loyalty was the only thing left.  His oath to the fellowship had not ended.  
It could not end.  He would not let it end.

Legolas straightened up, his eyes reflecting his resolve.  He had come this 
far.  He would not abandon his friends in the face of defeat.

***

He found Aragorn inside the now empty armory.  The ranger was girding 
himself for war.  Legolas entered unnoticed, picked up the ranger's sword, 
and handed it to him.

"We have trusted you this far and you have not led us astray. Forgive me.  
I was wrong to despair," he apologized.

Aragorn placed his hand on Legolas's shoulder.  "There's nothing to 
forgive, Legolas."

Legolas clasped Aragorn's shoulder in return, marveling once again at the 
depth of the friendships he had so recently come into.

Gimli entered at that moment, grousing about the chain mail and bringing 
a smile to Legolas's face.

All that remained now was to await the arrival of the enemy.

A horn sounded.

Legolas' s heart leapt within his chest.  "That's no orc horn."  He took the 
steps two at a time, Aragorn and Gimli hard on his heels.  Aragorn 
overtook him as they followed the outer passageway round.  They came to 
the top of the steps overlooking the main gate.

And here Legolas stopped abruptly.  Below him, a grand regiment of elves 
was entering the keep, marching in perfect unison, their blue-gray cloaks 
rolling like waves as they passed.  But more glorious than these, more 
demanding of Legolas's attention was the leader of the regiment – an elf of 
exceptional beauty and composure who even now was addressing King 
Theoden.  Clad in red and gold, he looked like a great prince of the 
heavenly armies.
	
" . . . we fought and died together," he was saying, his voice fluid and 
elegant.  It was a voice that Legolas loved.

At the arrival of the three companions, the leader of the elves turned his 
gaze towards the top of the stairs.  A proud, noble expression radiated 
from his face, like light from a lantern.  A brilliance surrounded him.  It 
had always surrounded him, but never had it shined so brightly as it did 
now in Legolas's eyes.

"We come to honor that allegiance," the elf continued.

Aragorn came to the bottom of the steps.  "Mae govannen, Haldir," he said 
with a broad grin.  He put his hand to his heart in the usual elven greeting, 
then opted for a more human welcome, drawing Haldir into a warm 
embrace.

Haldir was caught off-guard, but recovered quickly, returning the embrace 
and smiling at the feeling.

Aragorn drew back.  "You are most welcome."

When Aragorn stepped aside, Legolas eagerly came forward.  He reached 
out and clasped Haldir's shoulder.

For one brief, intense moment, they greeted each other without words; 
then Haldir turned to face Theoden once more, as Legolas looked on, 
unbridled thrill and pride beaming from his face.

"We are proud to fight alongside men once more," Haldir proclaimed 
boldly.

Theoden was temporarily at a loss for words.  This was a moment he had 
never imagined in his wildest dreams.  Suddenly, a glimmer of light was 
showing on a hopeless situation.

"You have brought us a chance for victory," he said at last.  "And for that, 
the kingdom of Rohan will be ever grateful."

Haldir made a graceful move of acknowledgment.  "We are at your 
command."

Theoden looked to Aragorn, who stepped forward.

"I will leave you to Aragorn," Theoden said to Haldir.  "And when this 
battle is over, if we are victorious and peace is restored, I will go in person 
to thank those who sent you."

"That may yet be possible," Haldir replied, bowing low.  When he rose, it 
was to address another elf at the head of the column.  "Ardamil, take over 
for me.  I will not be long."

"Yes, Nikerym," Ardamil replied with a nod.  Before turning, his eye 
caught that of Legolas.  "It is good to see you again, Legolas."

"It is good, indeed, Ardamil," Legolas replied, forcefully overcoming the 
desire to physically greet this elf individually.  He looked at the first 
several rows of elves and was stunned to find that he recognized many of 
the faces.  It looked as if Haldir had brought his entire patrol.

Haldir had caught sight of Gimli and bowed once again.  "Master Dwarf."

"Never was I so glad to see fair elven faces as I am now," Gimli enthused.  
"The Golden Lady has not forgotten us in this dark hour."

Haldir smiled.  "Nor has Lord Elrond."

Aragorn was already moving, drawing Haldir down the passageway 
toward the keep's juncture with the Deeping wall.  Legolas and Gimli 
followed.  Once they were out of earshot, Aragorn stopped and took firm 
hold of Haldir's arms, staring at him as if performing an examination.

"You are well," he said with intensity, joy radiating from his eyes.

Haldir gave a single nod and a pleased smile.  "As you see."

"When we last parted, you were in a very bad way.  We weren't even sure 
Elvish medicine could help you."  This was also from Aragorn.

"It was not Elvish medicine," Haldir replied.  "It was Gandalf the White."

Aragorn nodded.  "Yes, he told us. We met him in Fangorn Forest.  He 
told us he had healed you, but that you were still recovering at the time he 
left Lorien."

"That is true."

"He was very grave about it," Gimli put in, sounding irritated at the 
memory.  "He would give us no assurances."

"He had none to give," Haldir said.  "He had done his part.  The rest was 
mine.  He could not know how it would turn out."

"It turned out well," Aragorn grinned.

"It did," Haldir agreed.

"How did you come to lead this expedition?"  Gimli asked.

"I volunteered.  The decision to stand by men was made above my head," 
Haldir stated.  "But once it was made and they needed a captain, I did not 
have to think about whether or not I wanted to be a part of it."

Aragorn could not hide his admiration.  "I am glad of it.  Theoden spoke 
truly.  You have brought hope."  He paused then got down to business.  
"There isn't much time.  The greatest weakness is the Deeping wall.  
Rohan does not have enough warriors to defend it.  If we put all of Rohan's 
soldiers on the keep, your regiment can defend the wall."

Haldir kept abreast with Aragorn through the passageway until they came 
out at the juncture of the wall and the keep.  Legolas and Gimli followed 
and listened as the other two discussed tactics.

The better part of a half hour passed in this manner.

Legolas watched the interaction between Haldir and Aragorn with 
excitement.  Haldir's strategic mind had amazed Legolas in the past, and it 
continued to do so now.  He felt a minor tinge of envy at Haldir's cool, 
collected manner, especially when he recalled his own bout with despair, 
only so recently overcome.

And yet, Legolas's patience was remarkably thin.  He was aching to have a 
moment alone with Haldir.  He forced his concentration on the discussion 
at hand; and for this he was deeply grateful when Haldir turned to him 
unexpectedly and said, "Legolas, friend, would you go back and bring the 
regiment here?  I still have things to discuss with Aragorn."

Legolas nodded and was off like a hare.  He found the regiment filling the 
inner court, drawing water and eating lembas.  It only now occurred to 
Legolas what kind of forced march these elves must have been subjected 
to.

Almost immediately, he saw Ardamil approaching him.  There were three 
other elves with him.  Two he recognized as Haldir's brothers, Rumil and 
Orophin.  The other was another guardian in Haldir's patrol by the name of 
Mythis.

It was a warm greeting, much more so than Legolas's greeting with Haldir 
had been.

"We did not expect to see you again so soon," Orophin said.

"I thought you were sailing for the Undying Lands," Legolas replied.

"Those plans have changed, as you can see.  We are here because of 
Haldir," Orophin explained.  "His decision was our decision.  When he 
volunteered to lead the regiment, we volunteered to be a part of it.  You 
know we could never leave him."

"I know that," Legolas said, a strange glimmer of pain flashing briefly in 
his eyes.

Ardamil put a hand on Legolas's back.  "And it would not be inaccurate to 
say that Haldir would never let us leave him," he quipped good-naturedly.

"That I can believe," Legolas laughed, then added as a prompt, "He looked 
remarkably well.  I take it he is fully recovered."

"He is well recovered," Rumil put in.

"Well recovered?"  Legolas asked, wondering at Rumil's choice of words.

Rumil inclined his head.  "He would not be here otherwise."

Legolas looked from face to face, his own eagerness winning out over 
delicacy.  "How—how did he—how was his recovery?"

It was Orophin who answered with quiet earnestness.  "It was difficult.  He 
was held in sleep for so long that we were hoping that, if he ever were 
healed, it might lessen the severity of what had happened.  But it did not."

Every trace of light-heartedness vanished from the conversation.

"Tell me," Legolas insisted.

"He remembered everything," Orophin said after a long hesitation.

"Which means," added Rumil, "that he will never forget.  He suffers for it 
even now."

"Badly?"  Legolas asked.  "Is that why he volunteered for this?  Is he 
punishing himself?"

"Haldir would not punish himself," Mythis replied, speaking for the first 
time.  "He volunteered because he felt it was the right thing to do.  He 
carries his burden with him, but he does not let it bury him.  He is still our 
captain."

Legolas stood silent for a moment before subjugating his own concerns 
and recalling his tasking.  "He asked me to bring the regiment."

Ardamil nodded.  "Very good." 

As the elves were regathered into formation, Ardamil faced Legolas 
squarely.  "Will you fight alongside us, Prince of Mirkwood?"

"I would be honored," Legolas replied.

"The honor would be ours," Ardamil grinned.  "We have not forgotten 
your skill as a warrior.  And you are as much a brother to us now as any 
ever could be."

With that, Legolas led the way into the close.  He found Aragorn and 
Haldir where he had left them, and he watched as the placement of the 
elven warriors took place.  They were well-disciplined and accustomed to 
following orders, and the manning of positions proceeded quickly.

This presented Legolas with the opportunity to greet several of the other 
elves whom he knew.  He moved along the wall, encountering clusters of 
former acquaintances, yet all along, he was searching for Haldir.  He 
caught sight of him, at last, an image of red and gold, heading across the 
close towards a crumbling stone structure—the remains of an ancient and 
now disused shrine—built into the base of the cliff at the back of the Deep.

Legolas hesitated, but only briefly, and then followed him.

The inside of the shrine was poorly lit by a smoking torch that Haldir had 
kindled to life.  Otherwise, it was a dull, cold place.  Legolas found Haldir 
on one knee in front of a statue so defaced and deformed that it was 
impossible to tell whom it represented, although Legolas knew that such a 
minor detail had no chance of deterring Haldir in his devotions.

For nearly a minute, Legolas stood silently just inside the shrine's arched 
doorway, listening as Haldir sang quietly in an ancient language that 
Legolas had begun to learn many centuries earlier but which he had 
neglected in these later times.  

Still, he was able to pick out a word here and there.  It was a prayer of 
sorts, a song of petition.  A call for protection and victory.  It was a song 
that only an elf like Haldir would sing.

Legolas felt a smile of remembrance forming on his lips.  Some things had 
not changed at all.  Haldir had never possessed the fine singing voice of 
most elves, but there was something mesmerizing in his voice, and 
Legolas had never tired of hearing him sing.  If Haldir had ever recognized 
his deficiency, he had never let it stop him from indulging his love of the 
activity.

And so Legolas reveled in this private performance.  But even more, he 
recognized and welcomed the fondness swelling his heart again.

Haldir finished singing and was motionless for a few seconds.  Then he 
got to his feet and turned to face Legolas.  An affectionate kindness shone 
on his face.

Legolas spoke first, his voice deep and resonant in the stone enclosure.  
"Did you know I was in here?"

Haldir nodded.  "I was waiting for you to join me." 

"I was afraid of disturbing you."

"You are never a disturbance, Legolas.  Especially not now."

Legolas walked over to him.  "I didn't realize how much I missed hearing 
you sing."

Haldir gave a small laugh.  "The voice of a lark?"

Legolas's smile widened.  "Yes, a lark."  He paused.  "You were singing in 
the old tongue."

Haldir nodded.  "Do you remember any of it?"

"Only a little.  I did not stay in practice."

"Atarna ea han ea, na aire esselya . . ."

Legolas suddenly felt as if he were hearing the words of a great dream.  He 
picked up the recitation.  "Aranielya na tuluva, na care indomelya cemende 
tambe Erumande."

They continued together, Haldir turning toward the statue and dropping 
gently to one knee again.  Legolas did the same.

"Amen anta sira ilaurea massamma, ar amen apsene ucaremmar siv' emme 
apsenet tien I ucarer emmen.  A lame tulya usahtienna mal ame etelehta 
ulcullo.  Nasie."

Haldir allowed himself an inward smile of pride at Legolas's remembrance 
of the prayer.  "You have not forgotten it all."

"It would be impossible to forget all of it," Legolas replied.  "That prayer 
had great significance when I learned it.  It still does.  I had only 
forgotten."

Haldir drew in a deep breath.  "I never forgot."

"Even—even when the Fellowship was in Lorien?"

"Even then."

Legolas reached over and took light hold of Haldir's arm.  "I have 
wondered . . . driven myself to distraction, wondering if . . . if it was you 
that I was hearing in Lorien."

Haldir raised eyes to Legolas's.  "It was me.  Where you were concerned, it 
was me." His voice fell to a whisper.  "It was the only part of me that was 
true, the only part I can look back on without shame."  He got to his feet.

"Shame has no place on you, Haldir," Legolas protested warmly, also 
rising.  "It would not dare to even alight upon your brow."

Haldir's eyes showed a subtle amusement.  "Ever generous with your 
praises."

"It is no less than you deserve."  Legolas hesitated.  There were things he 
wanted to say, but Haldir was giving him no clear signal to proceed.

Haldir was well aware of Legolas's need to speak.  Haldir was not so 
convinced, however, that he could bear to hear it.  It was as Meltheon had 
said so long ago:  Legolas had become Haldir's weakness.  And that 
weakness had been the fulcrum around which had turned a series of events 
that even now refused to fade into indistinctness.  Haldir had not been 
willing to risk much in those days; he was even less willing now.

"I have worried about you," Legolas said suddenly, a hint of desperation in 
his voice.  "I feared I would never see you again.  I feared that you would 
not survive."  His grip on Haldir's arm grew fierce.  "I would have stayed if 
I could.  You know that, don't you?  But I was sworn to the Fellowship, to 
the protection of Frodo.  Please tell me you understood that."

Haldir held up his hand and brushed Legolas's cheek with the back of his 
fingers.  "Poor Legolas.  How you have suffered.  You needn't worry 
yourself any further on my account.  I know the trials you have faced since 
we parted.  You should know that I would never hold anything against 
you.  You had your oath to fulfill.  Of course, I understood."

As had happened so many times before, Legolas was struck by the 
realization that he had never truly recognized that which was best in 
Haldir.  Here was an elf of such goodness with so great a capacity for 
sacrifice that Legolas could not help but feel in awe of him.  He closed his 
eyes and pressed his cheek into Haldir's touch.

Haldir regarded him with a wistful sadness.  He could see the heaviness 
that lay across the Greenleaf's shoulders, and this grieved him.  He would 
have done anything to spare his companion the burden that he now carried.  
And yet, Haldir knew that Legolas was well equipped for it.  Indeed, 
Haldir could think of no elf better suited to the fight than the Prince of 
Mirkwood.

Haldir's fingers moved to Legolas's temple.  He let the fine strand of 
braided flaxen fall across his palm.  "You must never be sorry for the 
decisions you made, Legolas.  You were strong where I was not."  He set 
the braid behind Legolas's shoulder.

Legolas opened his eyes.  "That is how you remember it."

Haldir nodded once slowly.

A long silence passed.

Legolas frowned.  Haldir was his usual, stoic self, giving nothing away, 
showing only enough affection to assure Legolas that there should be no 
unpleasantness between them.  It was frustrating.

"You said you volunteered to lead the elves," Legolas said at last.  "Did 
you know I was here?"

"I knew," he replied.  "Her Ladyship informed me that you, Aragorn, and 
Gimli were here."  He paused, reading the unasked question in Legolas's 
eyes.  "Your presence here had no bearing on my decision to volunteer."  
He went on quickly, before Legolas could feel any sting from this blunt 
admission.  "I have never been one to hide within the borders of Lorien.  
You know that.  You also know that I would not run from evil. If there is 
any remnant of the old alliances, I would desire to be a part of it."

"Then we shall fight side by side!"  Legolas said with determination.

A shadow fell over Haldir's features.  "No, Legolas.  I would not have you 
near me when the battle begins."

Legolas was stunned.  "Why not?"

"It is not a good idea," was all the answer Haldir was willing to give.

"Haldir, you just said that I was never a disturbance—"

"Do not argue with me, Legolas.  You know this is different," Haldir said 
with quiet authority.  "You have seen that many of the elves I have brought 
with me are from my own patrol.  I will be with them.  I can not afford 
to—to . . . " he hesitated, struggling to find the words, " . . . to give them 
less than my full attention."

"I have already spoken to Mythis and Ardamil and your brothers.  They are 
expecting me to fight alongside them," Legolas replied.  "I would be no 
more than an addition to those whom you have brought."

"My mind is made up on the matter, Legolas.  I do not intend to discuss it 
any further."  He turned away and walked around the statue, coming to a 
shallow stone basin that glimmered in the flickering light.  He pulled a 
thin splinter of kindling from the torch and held it low over the center of 
the basin.

A bright flame leapt up from the basin and filled the shrine with a dancing 
light.

Legolas watched him but said nothing.  A part of him, the part that felt his 
importance as the Prince of Mirkwood, felt the urge to remind Haldir that, 
despite the difference in their years and experience, one was a prince and 
the other a guardian; and a guardian did not issue orders to a prince.  The 
greater part of him, however, recoiled against the very idea of angering 
Haldir and questioning his authority.  After all, Haldir had several hundred 
elven warriors for whom he was responsible.  Legolas would not use his 
particular friendship with their captain to demand special consideration 
when he knew that Haldir would not grant any such thing to his other 
warriors.

Haldir stood before the flame and placed his hand over his heart.  "Ajan 
Atar, Oija Turo.  Bala aud ari ar dosme.  Poka Ektele aud Oija jala.  Antan 
Srawava an alker esser.  Ndako-ye nukuma.  Antan cuilem durner."

Legolas came and stood beside him.  "What is this?"

"Part of a forgotten ritual," Haldir replied.  "The basin never goes dull for 
those who know how to use it."

Legolas looked up at Haldir's profile, cast in colors of darkness and light 
that shifted with the flame.  He looked like the glorious captain that he 
was, his features bold and exquisite, his expression peaceful and confident, 
an odd mingling of courage with humility.  

Haldir spoke again.  "The flame will continue to convey my prayers, even 
once the fighting starts."

"Prayers for whom?"

"For those who will die this night."  He gazed into the burning light.  "We 
are greatly outnumbered, Legolas.  I do not fool myself into thinking that I 
will lose none of my warriors."

"And do you not think of yourself?" Legolas asked.

Haldir frowned and spoke words that Legolas had heard many times 
before.  "What good captain does?"  With these words, he left the shrine 
and Legolas.



Chapter 2  The First Meeting

Legolas first came to Lothlorien in the Spring.

The trip had not been planned, not until the last moment, for Legolas had 
only recently come into maturity; and neither he nor his father, Thranduil, 
the Elven King of Mirkwood, had hosted any idea for his future prospects 
beyond the improvement of his skills as a warrior and the refinement of 
his diplomatic abilities.  

But the passing through Mirkwood in early April by two messengers of the 
Galadhrim on their way back from business in the far north had presented 
an opportunity that Thranduil would not pass up.   Many centuries had 
passed since any prince of Mirkwood, including the King himself, had 
stepped foot within the golden woods of Lothlorien. Yet, here was a ready-
made escort, even if that had not been part of their original task.  Thranduil 
sent a message by wing to Lord Celeborn of Lorien; and a favorable reply 
having been received, when the two Galadhrim left Mirkwood in mid-
April, they had in their company, Thranduil's greatest pride and the fairest 
of all the woodland elves.  Legolas was filled with the fire and excitement 
of youth, the hope of great adventure, and the prospect of learning from 
the strange and beautiful elves that inhabited the Golden Realm.

The passage south was made on horseback, the journey rain-drenched but 
pleasant enough, following the low road on the western shore of the 
Anduin.  On the eighth day after they had set out, the small party came to 
the northern borders of the Woods of Lothlorien. Here, they encountered a 
patrol, but Legolas's two companions were well known to the Guardians, 
and the travelers passed without incident.

From that point, Legolas spoke little.  Indeed, he was too enraptured by his 
surroundings to give much thought to anything else.  Lothlorien was even 
more splendid than the tales could tell, for it was Spring, and never had 
Legolas beheld such a sight.  The boughs of the great Mellyrn trees 
stretched away towards the heavens and were laden with yellow flowers, 
whose fragrance wafted down from the heights like a sweet rain.  The 
forest floor was also golden, covered with autumn leaves that had only just 
fallen, for such was the way of the Mellyrn, that they held their turned 
leaves until the Spring.

Deep into the woods, they came upon the Celebrant and here the horses 
were turned over to more of the Guardians who, Legolas noticed, seemed 
to appear out of the shining mists, unnoticed until they called attention to 
themselves.  If he could learn nothing more than such an art of 
concealment, he would be very pleased.

Legolas and his two companions crossed the Celebrant by means of a punt, 
and coming to the far side, they seemed to have no path to follow, yet the 
two Lorien elves were sure-directed and hesitated not at all.  They 
continued on south for several miles until, coming out of the woods, they 
came to a wide, treeless, space, running in a great circle and bending away 
on either hand.  Beyond that was a deep fosse upon the brink of which ran 
a road of white stone.  Inside the fosse there rose to a great height a green 
wall encircling a green hill thronged with mellyrn trees taller than any 
Legolas had seen in all the land.

"This is Caras Galadhon, city of the Galadhrim," one of the guides 
announced.  "The gates are not much further.  Then we will take you 
directly to see the Lord and Lady." 

"That will be very good," Legolas replied.  "I am anxious to meet those of 
whom I have heard so much."

***

The receiving hall of Lord Celeborn sat at a tremendous height in the 
tallest of the mellyrn.  The flet upon which it stood was wide and long, 
like the deck of a great ship.  The hall was oval-shaped, with the trunk of 
the mellyrn rising through the middle as it tapered towards its crown.  The 
chamber was softly lit, its walls green and silver, it roof gold.  On two 
chairs beneath the bole of the tree there sat, side by side, Celeborn and 
Galadriel.  They stood up, after the manner of Elves, to greet Legolas as he 
entered with his escort.

"This is Prince Legolas of Mirkwood, Son of Thranduil," one of the guides 
announced, as Legolas placed his hand on his heart and then swept out his 
arm in greeting.

Celeborn nodded to the guide.  "Welcome Legolas, son of Thranduil.  
Please, join us."  Then to the two messengers, "Thank you, Nenstil.  You 
and Flagon have been excellent.  You may go.  I shall summon you again 
to hear your report."

Once his two companions had left, Legolas felt strangely more at ease.  
Even as he beheld the two dazzling creatures before him, he experienced a 
sense of awe, but the awe left him unabashed.  The Lord and Lady of the 
Galadhrim were surpassingly beautiful, clad all in white, tall and grave and 
lovely.  The Lady's hair was deep gold, while the Lord's was silver long 
and bright.  They were ageless, except perhaps in the depths of their eyes, 
which were keen and profound.

Legolas spoke right away, before sitting, anxious to be rid of the formal, 
rehearsed greeting that he had carried within his head all the days since 
leaving Mirkwood.

"My Lord and Lady, I bring greetings from my father, Thranduil of 
Mirkwood.  He sends blessings and gifts, of which I am the happy bearer."  
It only then occurred to Legolas that the gifts were down at the bottom of 
tree in the hands of one of the Elf-wardens that guarded access to the Lord 
and Lady, for he had not thought it wise to lug his pack up the ladder to 
such heights.  Still, Legolas was undaunted.  "It is his desire and mine that 
I may stay in Lorien for some months and learn from my fair cousins to the 
South."

With these words, they sat down and Celeborn nodded his approval.  "That 
was well spoken and well received.  Your request is a noble one, which we 
will be only too happy to oblige," Celeborn said politely.  "Have you any 
preference for your learning?"

"Whatever presents the greatest challenge and learning opportunity," 
Legolas replied, and his eyes grew bright and hopeful.  "I should very 
much like to train with the Guardians of Lorien, for they are reputed to be 
the finest of warriors.  Yes, I should very much like that."

Celeborn could not suppress a smile at the blithe manner of Thranduil's 
son.

"Very well.  The choice is easily made, then."  Celeborn turned to one of 
his attendants.  "Fetch Haldir."

"Yes, my Lord."

The attendant departed, and Legolas fought down his curiosity over what 
type of elf the attendant would return with—what type of elf this Haldir 
was—and forced his attention on the words of Lord Celeborn, who had 
begun to speak again.

" . . . is very skilled and has a great range of experience.  You will not be 
disappointed.  I dare say the Wide Patrols are the most exciting of any 
Guardian duties."

Legolas smiled.  "I am looking forward to it."  He suddenly felt the eyes of 
the Lady Galadriel on him, and he turned a blushing countenance towards 
her, though he had no idea why he should be embarrassed.  Her gaze was 
blue like glacial ice, but there was nothing cold in it.  There was warmth 
and knowledge and memory.  And there was soft appraisal, and perhaps 
this was what brought the color to Legolas's cheeks.

"Such joy," Galadriel said at last.  "The world is still new to you.   You 
seek the experience of beauty for its own sake."

Legolas's blush deepened.

Galadriel's expression was one of neither joy nor sadness.  She rather 
looked intrigued as she concluded with words as gentle as a dove's voice.  
"You carry your passion like a banner for all to see.  The Lord of the 
Galadhrim has spoken truly, for I see already that you will find that which 
you seek under the leadership of the Captain of the Wide Patrol."  Her eyes 
narrowed slightly.   "Verily, I say that you shall find more than you desire.  
Haldir will do well by you.  Among the Galadhrim, he is our most trusted 
and capable captain.  Learn from him."  She paused.  "And do not forget 
that while you serve as a Guardian, you will owe him your allegiance."

"I will remember, my Lady."

Shortly, the doors at the end of the hall opened, admitting two elves.  
Legolas recognized the first elf as the one that Celeborn had dispatched 
earlier, so that meant that the other elf was the one named Haldir.
	
And if he were not Haldir, then Legolas was prepared to be greatly 
saddened, for the elf who had entered was a sight to behold.

For all that Legolas had admired the loveliness of the Lorien woods and 
the Celebrant and the stunning radiance of the Lord and Lady, he found 
himself suddenly wondering if he had ever beheld true beauty until now.  
He had expected to see an elf much like the two who had brought him to 
Lorien – an elf of pleasing appearance and subtle grace.  He had not 
expected to see a creature whose glory rivaled that of the sun itself.

The elf strode through the hall, his movements infused with an elegance 
that reflected a profound reverence in the presence of his Lord and Lady.  
His was dressed simply in colors of dark, smoky blue and black.  His hair, 
golden like autumn sheaves, hung about his shoulders in a less than 
refined and somewhat chaotic manner, as if the summons to see his Lord 
had caused him to prepare hastily.

He came and stood before Celeborn and Galadriel and bowed his head.  
"You sent for me, my Lord?"

"I did," Celeborn replied, and Haldir raised his head.

Celeborn made the introductions.  "Legolas, this is Haldir, one of the 
Guardians of Lorien, Captain of our Wide Patrol.  Haldir, this is Prince 
Legolas of Mirkwood, third son of Thranduil."

Haldir bowed slightly and brought his hand to his heart in greeting.

Legolas returned the gesture, but without his usual grace, for he was intent 
on the face before him, on the eyes regarding him with subdued curiosity.   
Haldir's features were very distinctive, beyond conventional ideas of Elven 
beauty; and Legolas was enjoying looking at him.

"Legolas has come to learn about his kin to the south," Celeborn 
explained.  "And he has particularly requested to spend some time with the 
Guardians.  And what better way for him to experience Guardian duties 
than with the Wide Patrol."

"Yes, my Lord," Haldir replied.

"You will look after him and train him well," Celeborn said, and Haldir 
did not miss the unspoken command in his words:  And you will let 
nothing ill befall him.

"Yes, my Lord," Haldir said again.

Celeborn returned his attention to Legolas.  "Then I leave you to Haldir."

"Thank you, my Lord," Legolas replied with a slight bow.  He looked to 
Haldir, who offered a sweeping gesture with his arm, inviting Legolas to 
proceed with him from the hall.  

After they had gone, Galadriel spoke quietly.  "Haldir's beauty did not go 
unnoticed by the Prince of Mirkwood.  Legolas will challenge him."

"I sensed it, as well," Celeborn agreed.

Galadriel was thoughtful.  "The Wide Patrol shall be an interesting duty 
over the next several months."

***

Once Haldir and Legolas had removed from the hall and were walking side 
by side down a short winding stair to a lower talan, Haldir spoke in a much 
more relaxed voice than that which he had used to address Lord Celeborn.
	
So, tell me—Legolas, is it?  Was the Wide Patrol your choice or a choice 
made for you?"  he asked pleasantly.

"A combination of the two.  I informed Lord Celeborn that I wanted the 
most challenging assignment and that I wanted to learn from the best of his 
warriors.  He made the choice from there."

Haldir could not help but be pleased.  He had long known Celeborn's 
satisfaction with him as a Guardian, but to be considered the best . . . this 
was news to him.

"Certainly, he made the choice that will give you the widest range of 
experience," Haldir remarked.

Legolas grinned.  "I am glad to hear it."

"We just came back from a patrol.  We have the rest of this week off.  
Then next week, we train here in Lorien, and after that, we go on patrol 
again for six weeks."

"Very good."

"That gives us time to get you situated.  The patrol has a group of talans.  
Most of us also have our own private talans, but those who are not bonded 
prefer to stay in the common ones.  It is good for camaraderie.  You are 
welcome to stay in the common talans, if you like, unless his Lordship has 
already given you guest quarters.  Or you can stay with me, if you prefer 
not to stay with the rest of the patrol—"

Legolas laughed.  "So many choices.  I will stay in the patrol's talans.  It 
will be a good way to get to know them."

"I will have my brother, Orophin, make the arrangements.  I will also have 
him take you to the fitters."

"The fitters?"

"For proper attire."

Legolas looked down at his woodland garb of green and brown.  "This isn't 
proper enough?"

"You would stand out less if you were dressed like the rest of the patrol," 
Haldir replied easily.

"That is true," Legolas agreed, recalling the silver-gray garments of the 
patrol that had met his party upon entering Lorien.  "I will visit the fitters."

They crossed a narrow, railing-less span, and then came to ladder, cast 
down and descending towards the forest floor below.  "Have you ever 
soldiered before?"  Haldir asked, as he began to climb down.  There was a 
hint of swagger in his voice.

"A little," Legolas replied.  "I have been trained in all the basic skills."

"What can you do?"

"I'm a good shot.   Handy with knives and a fair rider."

"Hand-to-hand?"

Legolas conceded, "Not so good."

"Sword work?"

"Not so bad."

Haldir laughed – a clear, ringing sound so filled with genuine mirth that it 
made Legolas laugh, as well.

"You are very honest, Legolas, Prince of Mirkwood.  By the time you 
leave Lorien and return to your dark forests of Mirkwood, you will be an 
expert in all skills," Haldir said.

Legolas looked down to see Haldir beaming up at him from below on the 
ladder.  "And is there anything a Lorien elf might learn from his cousins to 
the north?"  Legolas asked in amusement.

A good-natured smile played on the Guardian's lips.  "We shall see."

They came to a long, narrow talan, at one end of which an elf sat 
restringing his bow.

"Orophin," Haldir announced.

The elf raised his head, revealing a striking, angular face, piercing eyes, 
and a smile that looked amazingly similar to Haldir's.  The elf stood up to 
face the new arrivals.

"Yes, Nikerym?"

"This is Legolas of Mirkwood.  Thranduil's son.  He's going to be joining 
the patrol," Haldir explained.

"A prince in our midst," Orophin said with raised eyebrows.  "This is an 
honor."

"Please, I beg you, do not treat me like a prince.  I wish to be treated like 
any other member of the patrol," Legolas replied.

Haldir pat him on the shoulder.  "And so you shall be."  Then, to Orophin.  
"See to his lodging and then take him to the fitters."

"Yes, Nikerym."

"And be a good host," Haldir added with a meaningful glance, which 
Orophin knew to be the unspoken order to keep Legolas entertained.  He 
looked to Legolas.  "I may see you later this evening."

After Haldir had left, Legolas turned to see Orophin eyeing him with 
interest. 

"I've never met any of the Mirkwood princes before," Orophin admitted.

Legolas grinned.  "I'd never met a Guardian of Lorien until now."

"A new experience for both of us," Orophin said, and his eyes shined even 
brighter.  "And 
I suppose we should get off to a proper start and do as Haldir asked."

"Haldir told me you were brothers," Legolas said as Orophin led the way 
across the talan, to where another overlapped, and beyond that another.

"That's true," Orophin replied.

"And yet you call him 'nikerym'?"  Legolas was amused.

"I am in his patrol and under his orders.  I show him the respect his 
position deserves," Orophin replied, then a chuckle broke from his lips.  
"But if the truth be known, I usually call him Haldir.  Only there are times 
when 'nikerym' seems more appropriate.  You'll find that's the way it is in 
the patrol."

"Lady Galadriel told me he is the best captain of the Galadhrim," Legolas 
commented.

"And the Lady is always right," Orophin winked.  "Especially this time."

"That's very high praise, coming from the Lady of Lorien."

Orophin nodded.  "Haldir deserves it."

Legolas narrowed his eyes.  "Not even a hint of sibling rivalry?"

"Not with Haldir," Orophin replied, the affection plain in his voice.

"Really?  My brothers and I compete at everything," Legolas said.

"I have another brother named Rumil.  He and I compete from time to 
time.  But there's no competition with Haldir."  It was such a definitive 
statement that it piqued Legolas's curiosity.

"Why is that?"  he asked.

"I could never explain it.  After a few weeks with the patrol, you'll 
understand why," Orophin said with a shrug.

"Now, you've got my mind working.  No competition at all?  So, no one 
has ever tried to best him?"

Orophin turned with a mild suspicion and an even greater humor to face 
Legolas.  "Ah, I see.  You intend to compete with him?"

"No!  I never even thought about it.  I am just admittedly intrigued by your 
remarks," Legolas protested.  

"Then I shall say no more on the subject, so as not to increase your 
curiosity any further," Orophin quipped.   He came to a halt at one end of a 
circle of talans, hung with lamps and screens and gossamer nettings.  In 
the center of the circle and about 20 feet below there was a larger talan, 
reachable from the circle by a series of rope ladders.  Through its center 
rose the broad grey trunk of the mellyrn, and another rope ladder ran down 
out of sight along the trunk towards the forest floor.  Several elves were 
gathered on this larger talan, speaking in quiet voices and tending to 
various activities.

"These are the patrol's talans.  The ones above in the circle are for 
sleeping. And down there is the day room.  You may choose any spot on 
the sleeping talans that you wish.  There are no assigned places, although 
most of us do have our preferred spots.  I can show you the open spaces.  
Did you bring anything with you?"

Legolas gave a start, amazed at his forgetfulness.  "I have a pack.  I left it 
with the Elf-wardens on the ground below the Great Hall."

"That will be no trouble, then.  We shall be able to retrieve it when we go 
to the fitters."  Orophin began walking around the circle.  "You will need 
nothing for soldiering that the patrol will not provide.  Even here, we have 
skins and cloaks and coverlets and pillows, screens and dividers to offer a 
bit of privacy, though not much, I must admit."  He paused and took a 
quick, intense look at Legolas.  "I see you have brought your own 
weapons, but we will outfit you with the weapons of the Galadhrim."

Legolas felt his excitement mounting.  The weapons of the Galadhrim.  He 
had seen the longbows of the Guardians and the sight had fed his desire to 
curl his fingers around such a fine piece of work.

Orophin then proceeded to show Legolas where he might make himself at 
home, but Legolas deferred making a selection, stating that he would 
prefer to wait and see for himself which places were taken, so as not to 
unintentionally give offense on his first day in the patrol.

This seemed to please Orophin, who then moved to the edge of the talan 
upon which they were standing.  "Then perhaps you would like to meet 
some members of the patrol.  Look, they are down there, straining their 
necks, trying to catch a glimpse of you."

Legolas's grin was answer enough, and Orophin, rather than using any of 
the ladders down into the center talan, sprang out and landed, however 
lightly, in the midst of a knot of four elves.

"Orophin!"  cried one, drawing back and shielding the sword he had been 
polishing.  "You are fortunate not to have landed on my blade!"

Orophin leaned close and examined the gleaming metal.  "You only polish 
that blade so that it will reflect back your image to you, Mythis."

Mythis groaned and looked to where Legolas was still standing on the 
upper flets.  "If you feel the need to follow his example, please try to land 
elsewhere."

Legolas leapt down, making sure that he landed well away from the four 
grumbling elves.
Another elf was speaking.  "Haldir would say Mythis is being 
conscientious, keeping his weapons in good order."

Orophin pat Mythis on the back.  "Yes, of course, it is just as Ardamil 
says!  After all, a shining blade is more lethal than a sharp one."

At that, the four elves laughed.  "There is more of your brother in you 
every day," the one named Ardamil remarked.  "Although you still have to 
learn his manners, since you have neglected to introduce us to your 
companion."

Orophin's gray eyes twinkled like the glinting of sunlight in drops of 
water.  "I do not recall being given the opportunity, but I shall do so now."  
He held out his arm, beckoning Legolas to his side.  "Friends, we have a 
new member of the patrol," Orophin began.  "This is Legolas of 
Mirkwood."  No mention was made of his lineage.  "He has come to learn 
from the Guardians, and Lord Celeborn himself placed him in the Wide 
Patrol."

"You are welcome," Ardamil said as he and the others rose in greeting.  
"You must excuse this wayward elf," he went on, nodding at Orophin with 
affection.  "He finds our peace and quiet too dull for his tastes, and so he 
contrives ways to agitate us, which then forces us to report something of 
his behavior to our captain."  He cuffed Orophin playfully.  "I am Ardamil.  
I am subaltern to our captain."  He then took it upon himself to introduce 
the others:  Mythis, whose face was indeed handsome but without the 
conceitedness that Orophin had jokingly ascribed to him; Maynfeln, who 
was the patrol's healer and reckoned its best story-teller; and Luredan, 
quiet and observant but with an openness in his features that invited 
confidence.

"The rest of the patrol is out and about," Ardamil explained.  "We are on 
free time right now, for we came off patrol the day before yesterday.   
Sunday next, we return to duty.  In the meantime, most of the patrol have 
gone to their families or their private homes.  Still, most stop by for talk or 
a song or a bit of quiet."

"How many are in the patrol?"  Legolas asked.

"Twenty-four, including the captain," Ardamil replied.  "Have you met 
Haldir yet?"

"Yes, I have, briefly," Legolas replied, and Ardamil caught the enthusiasm 
in his voice.

"You will like him very much," the subaltern said assuredly.  "He is as 
good an elf as ever walked Middle Earth."

Legolas raised an eyebrow.  "So I am beginning to understand.  He is 
spoken of with great praise.  I am astounded at the degree to which he is 
held in esteem."

"He is just another captain of the Galadhrim.  He himself will tell you this.  
But those who know him know his worth," Ardamil replied.  "There are 
greater names in Lorien, but those we deem the most important are those 
that move in our own midst."  He turned to Orophin.  "So, have we time to 
give proper welcome, or are you under orders?"

"Under orders, of course," Orophin replied.  "We make now for the 
fitters."

Here, Maynfeln spoke out cheerfully.  "I rather like the colors of 
Mirkwood."

"Yes, they are pleasing to look at," Orophin agreed, "But they do no good 
here in the woods of Lorien.  What stealth could he hope to have so 
garbed?"

"The stealth of a soft footfall and an eagle's swiftness?"  Maynfeln 
suggested.  "I am only trying to picture him in the grey and silver of 
Lorien.  I can not see it."

"You shall see it, and then you shall not have to picture anymore," 
Orophin replied.

"Then you must go with him to the fitters, Legolas," Ardamil said.  "And if 
he has any sense of courtesy, he will bring you to the fountain tonight for 
proper introductions and some chance for hearing music and story-telling."

"He has been courteous thus far," Legolas replied, laughing.  Already, he 
was thinking Lord Celeborn had made an excellent choice in sending him 
to the Wide Patrol.  These were good-natured elves of the outgoing sort.

"Ah!  You see there, Ardamil!  Courteous thus far!  Is that not a fine 
compliment?"  Orophin laced an arm around Legolas's shoulders, as 
Legolas broke out in laughter anew.  "Before I swoon from such flattery, 
we had better get to the fitters, or Haldir will have me pulling duty on the 
northern fences with the likes of –"

"You are incorrigible, Orophin!"  Ardamil proclaimed.  "Go!  Go now, and 
try not to lead poor Legolas into trouble."
	
***

They went first to retrieve Legolas's pack, and from there they made for 
the fitters, which was situated on a lower talan, though still high off the 
ground, and reached by a series of rope ladders and steps.  As they 
climbed, Legolas looked about him, still in awe of the great city in the 
trees.  There were structures – homes, perhaps—built on some of the 
larger flets, yet everything seemed open and welcoming.

Across a great open expanse, he saw a lone figure mounting up a long 
flight of steps between two branches on the same tree.  "Isn't that Haldir?"  
he asked.

Orophin followed the direction of his gaze.  "Yes, it is."

When Orophin offered no further remark, Legolas did not ask any further 
questions.  It would be unseemly for him to ask after the movements of the 
elf who was to be his leader for the next several weeks at least.  Instead, he 
continued on beside Orophin, but his eyes followed Haldir up to the top of 
the steps, where the Guardian crossed a short, flat bridge to a small, pretty 
house, where he was met by another elf who had come to stand in the 
doorway.  The strange elf flung out his arms but did not touch Haldir.  He 
was speaking and Haldir responded, but the words could not be heard 
across the distance, and Legolas felt ashamed for even wondering what 
they were saying.  A moment later, there was the faint ringing of their 
laughter and they disappeared into the house.
	
Legolas traded his shame for mild indignance, which felt odd but suited 
him much better, for he was easily able to convince himself that as a 
prince and an honored guest entrusted to the care of Haldir, that the least 
Haldir could do would be to look after him himself, instead of passing him 
off to another member of the patrol, even though that member be his 
brother.

"Here we are, then," Orophin announced.  They had come to a long, 
narrow talan, arched over from both sides with curves beams, so that the 
structure looked like the upended hull of a ship.  Inside they were met by 
an elf-maid of goodly temper.
	
"Orophin, tell me not that you have rent yet another cloak," the elf-maid 
teased.  "We shall have to set up a table that does nothing but mend what 
you have ruined."

"No such thing this time, Alethe.  I am come on an errand much more to 
your liking.  This is Legolas.  He is to be a member of the patrol, and 
Haldir has left it to me to see that he is properly fitted, and now I leave it 
to you, good lady," Orophin replied.  "Though I think I must stay and 
watch, for I believe it will be great fun."

Alethe waved her hand dismissively at Orophin.  "It will be a joy to outfit 
one so fair.  Come, Legolas, this will be easy work."

And it was easy work, as far as the fitting and the sewing went.  The elf-
maidens working in the fitters were nimble and quick at their work.  
Within an hour, Legolas was wearing the silver-grey of the Lorien elves.  
And he was wretched.

"I can not wear such a thing!"  he protested, regarding himself in the 
polished glass.

"True, you look very ill," Orophin replied with an amused grin tugging at 
the corner of his mouth.

"Lorien elves may be beautiful in these colors, but . . . I despise this!  Even 
the cut of it is abominable!"

Alethe stood behind him, primping and crimping.  "Now, now, you look 
fine.  You just are not used to it, but I tell you truly, it is a flattering thing 
on you."

Orophin simpered.  "I suppose it makes no difference, since you must wear 
it either way.   Only it is not flattering!  Alethe, how you can say such a 
thing is a wonder to me."

"You are only jealous, because you do not look as fine in yours," Alethe 
shot back.  "Besides, there are others who are better suited to be judges of 
beauty."

"I will take it, if I must," Legolas conceded.  "But I will not wear it until 
the patrol resumes its duties."

"That is perfectly alright," Orophin replied.  "None of us wear the uniform 
when we are on free time.  It is not our custom to do so."

Legolas changed back into his own clothes then accepted the tied bundle 
that was his uniform from Alethe.  He turned to Orophin.  "And now?"

"Now to the armory."

***

The rest of the day passed between various shops and the introduction of 
Legolas to elves too numerous to remember.  Orophin appeared to be very 
well known and equally well-liked.  Legolas was beginning to think that 
perhaps Haldir had done the right thing in handing him over to Orophin, 
for he was charming, funny, and a wealth of information.  Legolas had 
learned that Haldir was the oldest of the three brothers.  Orophin was in 
the middle.  Rumil was the youngest . . .

" . . . although in many ways, Haldir is like the youngest," Orophin said 
with consideration.

"In what ways?"  Legolas asked.

Orophin shrugged.  "You will see."

Legolas grunted his disapproval.  "You vex me, Orophin.  You say many 
mysterious things and then refuse to elaborate."

Orophin only grinned.  "They are things you must learn by experience.  
But this one is not so complicated.  You are the youngest, are you not?"

"Yes."

"And how do your brothers treat you?"

"They love me."

"Yes, of course.  But how do they treat you?"

Legolas thought about how to answer the question, but his silence was too 
long for Orophin, who prompted him, "Are they protective of you?"

"Very much so."

"There you have it.  That is one of the ways.  Rumil and I are very 
protective of Haldir.  In fact, the entire patrol is protective of him.  He 
rather needs it, I might add.  And the humorous thing is that he is also our 
protector," Orophin explained.

"And the other ways?"

"Some other time.  Here, we have been going all the day long.  It is 
evening and time for the fountain.  You will meet many of the patrol there.  
It is a popular spot.  I can assure you, you will have a fine time."

***

The fountain was literally that – a fountain.  Made of polished marble the 
color of ivory and sculpted with the intricate shapes of foxes and exotic 
birds, it was set beautifully in the center of circular green lawn twenty 
yards across and bordered with stone benches and tables.  The tables were 
piled with various delicacies and glittering flasks of wine and nectar.  
Upon the benches and about the lawn, there lounged elves, both male and 
female; and upon the low wall of the fountain pool, a musical group of 
three perched for their rendering of a sweet, wordless tune.

As predicted, many members of the Wide Patrol were present among the 
numbers; and Legolas spent the first hour being introduced to them all. 
Orophin made sure that the prince's glass never went empty, but he also 
made sure that it was never filled with anything too strong.  Haldir would 
be greatly displeased if, while under Orophin's watch, the Prince of 
Mirkwood's first action was to distinguish himself by public drunkenness.

Not unexpectedly, Legolas found himself the object of many an elf-
maiden's attention.  This, he did not mind; in fact, he rather enjoyed it.  His 
was a new face and an attractive one at that.  If they were curious about 
him and wanted to fawn over him, he was not going to stop them.  And 
although many of them were uncommonly pretty, Legolas could not deny 
that he was waiting hopefully to see one particular face above all others.

It was moving from evening into night when Haldir came to the fountain.  
He was greeted, not with the fairly loud and rambunctious chorus that had 
welcomed earlier arrivals, but rather with a subdued yet thoroughly 
genuine gladness that expressed itself in silent smiles and beaming eyes.

He looked very much as he had that morning with one notable exception.  
His hair, which had been in such disarray, was now styled with beautiful 
simplicity, showing off its rich thickness.  

Legolas watched as Haldir stopped to talk to this or that elf, showing all of 
them the same interested courtesy.  At length, Haldir came and joined him 
where he was sitting next to Orophin on the wall of the pool.

"I take it Orophin has been seeing to your needs," Haldir began.

"Yes, he's been an excellent companion," Legolas replied, his eyes still 
roving over the cascades of brilliant gold that fell over Haldir's shoulders.

Haldir noticed Legolas's stare and could not suppress a grin.  "Did you 
think I was inviting the birds to nest in my hair when we met this 
morning?"

Legolas's eyes widened and embarrassment burned in his pale cheeks, but 
he managed to regain his composure long enough to reply, "The work is 
very fine."

"I would thank you for the compliment, but it is not my own work.  I have 
no patience for it—no skill either, but luckily, there are those in the patrol 
who have both the patience and the skill."

And the luck, Legolas said to himself, thinking how much he would like to 
touch the thick tresses, so different from his own thinner and less radiant 
hair.

As if reading his thought, Haldir studied Legolas's braids.  "You appear to 
have some skill, yourself.  Is that your own work?"

"Yes," Legolas replied, smiling.

"Then perhaps you will permit some of the patrol to avail themselves of 
your services when we are out beyond the borders," Haldir queried.

"I would be happy to, but I should be surprised if anyone would come to 
me when another member of the patrol can do such beautiful work."

"Nonsense," Haldir replied.  "I, myself, am planning to make use of your 
ability, if you are undaunted by the prospect of taming something that can 
get wildly out of control."

Legolas laughed.  "It did not look quite so wild this morning . . . just . . . 
natural."

"You are already well-learned in diplomacy," Haldir grinned.  He reached 
out and ran a finger along the tight braid over Legolas's right ear.  "But if 
you can duplicate such intricate work, especially in the field, I shall be 
very pleased."

At that moment, Haldir's attention shifted, and his hand dropped from its 
admiration of Legolas's handiwork as he addressed a new arrival.  "Ah!  
We were just speaking of you and your miraculous taming of the mane!"

Legolas turned and saw approaching them the same elf he had seen with 
Haldir earlier in the day; and inexplicably, he felt his heart sink.  The elf 
was almost as beautiful as Haldir and possessed a gentleness in his 
expression that Legolas recognized as the natural outward manifestation of 
a pure spirit.  

"Miraculous?  T'was no miracle.  T'was hard work and much of it," came 
the reply, spoken by a voice smooth and deep and musical.  His gaze went 
to Legolas as he drew up to stand in front of them.  "You must be 
Legolas."

Legolas stood and gave the elven greeting.  When they sat again, the 
strange elf had placed himself between Legolas and Haldir, much to 
Legolas's irritation.

"Haldir has told me that you will be joining the patrol," the newcomer 
said.

Legolas's only response was a curt, "Yes."

Orophin leaned out, "And he is going to replace you as the keeper of the 
golden locks!"

This remark made Haldir laugh.  "You should not tease him, Orophin!  At 
least Rumil has some skill with such things, where you are all thumbs!"

"Yes, and that is why I also turn to him to manage my own hair!  What are 
brothers 
for—" Orophin wrapped his arm playfully around Haldir's neck, "—if not 
to tease!  Of course, if you prefer, I could transfer my loyalties to Legolas, 
and then our poor brother would find himself braiding only his own head!"

Rumil?  Legolas gave a slight gasp.  This is Haldir's other brother!  I 
should have guessed.  He regarded the three brothers sitting close together 
on the bench.   The resemblance now seemed clear.  They were all three 
dazzling like mithril.

Haldir slid out from Orophin's grip and took a brother in each arm.  "My 
ray of sunlight and my ray of moonlight!"

And see how they care for each other.  Legolas suddenly felt something 
that he had not expected:  it was envy.  He could not quite understand it, 
for he and his brothers, although competitive, shared a deep familial love 
that had long been the foundation for Legolas's unfettered joy and self-
confidence.  Yet, as he regarded Haldir with his brothers, he felt a 
powerful desire to have that affectionate gaze turned his way, to feel an 
adoring arm about his shoulders.

"Which is which?"  he asked at last.

Haldir squeezed Orophin.  "Moonlight."  Another squeeze for Rumil.  
"Sunlight."

"And what does that leave for you?"  Legolas asked.

"That leaves me as the joyful recipient," Haldir replied.

Orophin spoke, and although he was grinning from ear to ear, his voice 
carried a serious undertone.  "Haldir is the heavens."

"The realm in which sunlight and moonlight dwell," Rumil added.

"And all the stars and the clouds and the rains and the winds."  Orophin 
spoke almost as if he were reciting a prayer.  "He is our home."

Haldir pulled them closer.  "Is it any wonder that I am arrogant when I 
have two such flatterers?"

As he spoke, a call went up from the assembled elves.

"A song!!  A song!  Who will sing?"

"Let the newest member of the Wide Patrol grace us with a song!"  This 
was from Ardamil, who was seated with a collection of elf-maidens.

Cries of  'Legolas! Legolas!' filled the air.

Legolas, never one to pretend shyness, stood up.  "Very well!  Very well.  I 
will sing a song . . ."  He turned his eye to Haldir.  " . . . if my captain 
agrees to sing one after me."

Haldir inclined his head.  "Agreed."

Legolas moved to where the musicians had been seated earlier and took up 
a spot.  He began singing in Elvish the words of a song he had learned in 
his youth – the charming, meaningless story of Anhumat, a restless 
swallow in search of a home.

In the Spring, Anhumat followed the east wind
And it led him far over the horizon
To where the great palaces stand upon the clouds.

There, in the Summer, he met the south wind
And it bore him shimmering like sunlight
To the halls of mountain kings.

When Autumn came, the west wind called sweetly
And he followed it over water and sand
To the last of the shrines of bygone days.

In the Winter, the north wind came cold and weary.
"I wish to stay in this land with the west wind," Anhumat said.
And the north wind sighed and went on alone.

When he had finished, appreciative applause rose from his audience.  
Legolas had a beautiful voice, fluid and soothing and surprisingly deep.  
But even more than that, he had a presence.  His mannerisms and 
expressions were riveting.  He knew how to play a crowd, and he made 
good use of the full extent of his abilities and his natural attractiveness.

And now, as the final act in his performance, he turned towards Haldir and 
made a grand gesture with his arm.  "I believe I may now turn the stage 
over to you, my good captain."

Haldir gave an ambiguous grin as he rose from his place and nodded his 
acknowledgment.  He then summoned Ardamil and Luredan, both of 
whom had instruments:  Ardamil's was a stringed instrument played with a 
bow, Luredan's was a lute.

And then began a moment that Legolas would never forget, a moment over 
which he would brood and agonize for many weeks.  It was the moment he 
first fell into danger, although as yet, he did not recognize it as such.

It was a simple melody that the two instruments brought forth, exotic yet 
strangely docile and pure.  Slow, languishing . . . yearning.  A sound like 
great yearning.

Then Haldir began to sing in a language that sounded faintly Elvish but of 
which Legolas could not understand a single word.  But his inability to 
understand did nothing to lessen the enchantment.  He sat quietly and 
listened as if in a rapture, entranced by the singing of the elf he was to call 
'nikerym'.

It was a fine voice, but a far cry from the usual dulcet ability of most elves.  
And yet, Legolas would have denied that there was any deficiency.  
Haldir's voice could wound the most hardened and calloused of hearts.  
For Legolas, whose heart was as yet still soft and pliable, the performance 
had an almost tantalizing effect.  Something in those unknown words and 
the unpolished voice reached down inside him and made a bizarre stirring 
deep in his soul.  Whatever that stirring was, Legolas did not give much 
thought to identifying it; he was content to merely enjoy and nurture it.

Haldir, unlike Legolas, was not a showman.  His gaze fell mainly on the 
ground or looked at some vague point never too far distant.  He did not 
move or gesture as he sang.  He did not smile or frown.  He looked 
completely comfortable, but Legolas also thought that he seemed to be 
hardly there.  It was as if his body stood and his mouth sang, but that 
interiorly, he had been transported elsewhere – and that was where the true 
audience, the true recipient of his song resided.   

It was also a fairly lengthy song, but when it ended, there was a 
tremendous round of applause, but even this could not break the spell that 
had fallen over Legolas.  He sat without moving or speaking, the sound of 
Haldir's voice echoing through his head.  At length, a shadow fell across 
him, and he looked up to see Haldir standing in front of him with two 
glasses in his hands.  He held one glass out to Legolas, who took it 
awkwardly.
	
"You have great talent," Haldir complimented.  "A good singer is always a 
great addition to any patrol.  You will be called upon often."

Legolas looked up at him with bemused eyes.  "I am surprised that anyone 
else would even think of singing after they have heard you."

Haldir smiled.  "That is kindly said."  He sat down beside Legolas and 
took a sip from his glass.  "So, are you well settled now?"

"I am, but I have to tell you that I despise the Guardian uniforms.  I looked 
ghastly in it," Legolas replied.

"I find that hard to believe," Haldir countered.

"You will see it for yourself," Legolas assured him.  "Until then, you may 
wish to 
withhold your opinion."

A glint showed in Haldir's eye.   "You are far too fair to be made ghastly 
by mere cloth."

"And now you are making fun of me?"  Legolas challenged.

Haldir shook his head.  "Look at all those elf-maidens.  They have watched 
you all night."

Now it was Legolas's turn to laugh.  "Were they? I thought they were all 
watching you."

"We could go on with this mutual flattery for hours," Haldir said good-
naturedly.  "But I only stopped down here to make sure Orophin had not 
left you to yourself."

"No, no, he has been very good," Legolas replied.  "They have all been 
very kind."

"I am glad to hear it," Haldir nodded approvingly.  He finished off his 
glass and got to his feet.  "In that event, I will leave you to enjoy the rest of 
the evening."

"You are not leaving?"  Legolas asked, standing up.

"Yes, I am.  A spell of peace and quiet will do me good."

"But I think—I think everyone would like you to stay," Legolas said.  
"You do not want to disappoint them, do you?"

"I would never want that,"  Haldir asked.

"Then stay," Legolas persisted.

"Would you think less of an elf who says that he's exhausted?"  Haldir 
asked, admitting a condition that few elves would ever acknowledge.

A softness came over Legolas's features.  "Of course not."

"Then you will excuse me?"

Legolas nodded.

"Good night," Haldir said with a slight bow.

"Will I see you tomorrow?"

"I don't think so, but Orophin will see to you.  And now that you've already 
met a number of the patrol, you will not be wanting for companionship."

Legolas felt a strange disappointment, which Haldir could sense.

"Please understand . . .there are certain things that wear on me. Tonight 
you witnessed one of them," Haldir explained.

Legolas looked confused.

"The song," Haldir went on.

"The song?  The song exhausted you?  But it was so beautiful."  

"It was meant to be beautiful.  Its recipient deserves nothing less.  But it is 
difficult to put the appropriate sentiments truly into the song, especially in 
public," Haldir replied.  "It takes a lot out of me to give of myself in that 
way."

Its recipient.  Legolas wondered what that could mean, but instead of 
asking the probing question, he opted for a less intrusive one.  "What 
language was that?"

"What you might call Ancient Quenyan, but properly named, it is 
Primordial Elvish – the root language from which all Elvish derives."

"What was the song about?"

Haldir smiled and touched Legolas's shoulder.  "Another time, Legolas.  
We will have many days together in which to discuss whatever you like.  
Only right now, I am much in need of peace."

Legolas accepted this.  He had no other choice. 

He watched Haldir leave, then he made his way over to join Ardamil and 
several other elves from the patrol.  And although his heart was no longer 
in it, he stayed several more hours at the fountain, until at last, led by 
Orophin back to the patrol's talans, he came to the end of his first day in 
Lorien.  And it was as he began undressing that he realized, much to his 
surprise and consternation, that he had left his pack at the fitters.


Title:  The Face of the Sun 3-4/?
Author:  Nildrohain
Rating:  G (for this part)
Paring:  Haldir/Legolas 
Disclaimer:  It hardly matters
Feedback:  I welcome it
Warnings:  None yet.  The story gets considerably rougher in later 
chapters, but I will offer appropriate warnings at those times.
A/N:  This is more a story of agape, but with a degree of confusion on the 
part of both parties over where to draw the line.  The story does not 
completely follow the plotlines of book or movie.  I've exercised a bit of 
creative license, so I ask forgiveness from those readers who are married 
to a study of details!  Note:  Nikerym means Captain.  I use it in those 
parts of the dialogue where Haldir is being addressed by fellow Elves.  
Primordial and Quenyan Elvish appear from time to time.  

Chapter 3	Time with Haldir

Legolas did not see Haldir the next day.  In fact, three days passed without 
any word or even glimpse of the Captain of the Wide Patrol.  Instead, 
Legolas spent most of his time with Orophin, making several more trips to 
the armorers and being led on tours through Caras Galadhon.  He retrieved 
his pack from the fitters, only to leave it in Orophin's private talan, after 
having dined there on the very same evening in which he had regained it.  
Indeed, Legolas was beginning to wonder if there was something in the 
Lorien air that was making him forgetful.  Only, there were certain things 
he did not forget . . .

"I have not seen Haldir since the day I arrived," Legolas said casually, as 
he and Orophin headed for the fountain on the fourth night of his stay.

"Haldir tends to be fairly private when we are not on patrol," Orophin 
replied.  "But you will see him tomorrow.  He and Rumil will join us for 
dinner."

Legolas found this to be good news, indeed.

***

Whatever Orophin was cooking (and he was very secretive about it), it 
smelled wonderful.  This much Legolas had discovered over the past two 
days:  that Orophin was a superb cook.  In addition to his other assets—for 
Orophin was kindhearted, quick-witted and generous—he had served up 
several excellent dishes for his guest, and Legolas appreciated his efforts.

"I am really the only one of my brothers who has any culinary skill," he 
said, stirring the contents of the pot he was tending.  "Oh, I suppose Rumil 
can boil water well enough, and Haldir can—"

"Haldir can what?"

Both Orophin and Legolas turned towards the voice, which had come from 
the doorway into Orophin's modest home, which was located on one of the 
lower flets and very near the patrol's talans.

Haldir and Rumil entered one after the other, their arms laden with meal-
stuffs.

Orophin left the pot as his brothers drew near.  A broad grin spread over 
his face.  He leaned close and pressed his cheek to Haldir's, then he did the 
same with Rumil.  It was an intimate greeting – and Legolas wondered if it 
would be extended to include himself.

Orophin took the two sacks from Haldir's arms.  "Haldir can bring the 
bread and the wine.  How very typical of you, brother."

"I dare not bring anything other," Haldir replied.  "You and Rumil remind 
me incessantly that I have no skill in such matters."  A mischievous glint 
showed in his eye.  "Although, it sounded to me as if Rumil is not held in 
such high esteem either."

Rumil set down the two bowls he had brought on a nearby table.  "I can 
boil water well enough, and that is more than can be said for you, dear 
brother."

Haldir cuffed Rumil playfully then drew in a deep breath.  "You've made 
my favorite, Orophin," he said with a gleam in his eye.

"You know that I take care of you, Haldir," Orophin replied.  "You would 
starve without me and the charity of others."

"You will have Legolas thinking that I am utterly helpless!"  Haldir 
protested, then he turned his attention to the newest member of his patrol.  
"Legolas, you look well.  I take it then that Orophin has been helpful to 
you.  Has he been a comfort or a hindrance?"

"Very helpful, and very much a comfort," Legolas replied.  "I have been to 
the fitters, the armorers, met most of the patrol, and I've been well 
entertained.  Lorien boasts of many treasures."

Haldir nodded his approval.  "And what are your plans for the next two 
days?"

Legolas looked at Orophin, who wore a look of expectancy, as if he knew 
what were coming next.   It was Orophin who replied, "Tomorrow, we go 
to get his long-bow.  The armorers are still crafting it, but it should be 
ready tomorrow early.  After that, we have no plans."

"Then you will spend the time with me," Haldir said, placing an arm gently 
on Legolas's back and guiding him to the low chairs near the glowing 
brazier on the far side of the room.  "That will give me the opportunity to 
go over the way things are in the patrol before we return to duty."

Legolas felt a warm flush of pleasure flow through his body.  As enjoyable 
as Orophin's company had been, the prospect of spending time with Haldir 
was the greater desire.  "Very good," he said with a subdued grin.

Haldir sunk into one of the chairs, leaned his head back and closed his 
eyes.  He looked perfectly at ease, Legolas noted.  Perfectly at home; and 
why not?  These were his brothers, clearly adoring, clearly bent on an 
enjoyable evening.  And apparently, Haldir felt comfortable enough 
around Legolas to relax and take dinner with him.  This gave Legolas 
encouragement.

"I take it you have been busy the past few days.  I have not seen you at all," 
Legolas prompted with practiced innocence.

Haldir opened one eye.  "I have been enjoying some much needed 
solitude," he grinned.  "Have I neglected you?"

Color leapt into Legolas's complexion.  "I didn't mean it that way."

"I did not take it 'that' way.  I only wanted to know if you felt neglected," 
Haldir replied gently, opening both eyes now and leaning forward slightly.

Legolas stared at him, struck by the intensity of the gaze now turned 
towards him.  But it was more than the gaze itself; there was something 
behind the warm pools of blue that regarded him steadily and with 
expectation.  There was a mysterious depth, but there was also a welcome, 
an invitation—but an invitation to what, Legolas could not discern.  He 
had never encountered such a thing before.  At the same time that it was 
perplexing, it was titillating.

"Should I take your silence as a confirmation?"  Haldir's voice snapped 
Legolas out of his musings.

"No, not at all.  You placed me in very good hands, but I shall be glad to 
spend the next two days with you," he replied.

Haldir gave a small chuckle.  "I wonder if you shall still be so glad to 
spend time with me after six weeks of living together."

"Haldir, you are going to frighten him," Rumil chastised lightheartedly, 
bringing over three glasses and a bottle of wine.  He held out a glass to 
Legolas and spoke to him as he filled it.  "You must not let him mislead 
you.  He would make himself out to be a troll, when he is really more of a 
task master."

"In truth, I have more experience with trolls than with task masters," 
Legolas replied with a laugh.

"I shall try to be as troll-like as I possibly can, then," Haldir replied, 
accepting the glass proferred by Rumil.  

There followed a bit of small talk, then dinner, which was preceded by a 
sort of short speech in which all three brothers took part but which was in 
more of the ancient language and therefore, unknown to Legolas.  After 
the meal, surprisingly succulent for a simple family meal, the brothers 
taught Legolas a game called 'bob-stones', something of a dice game, 
which they all three regretted when luck decidedly smiled on Legolas more 
than any of them.  Since they played for mere sport, Legolas claimed his 
winnings by asking for a song, hoping that Haldir would accommodate his 
request.  But it was Rumil who was prevailed upon, and Legolas was not 
disappointed.
	
Rumil's voice was exquisite, far superior to Haldir's.  Yet, as much as 
Legolas admired and enjoyed Rumil's talent, he was not as moved as he 
had been by Haldir's song at the fountain.  What captivated him as Rumil 
sang was the expression of peace and fondness that had settled over 
Haldir's face.  The song was one of many tales of Gil-Galad and was 
hardly a peaceful bit; yet Haldir looked as if the melody had soothed over 
every remnant of the daily toil.

"Wonderful," Legolas complimented when the song ended.  "I have never 
heard it sung so beautifully."

"I am not even the best," Rumil replied. "But I appreciate your words."

"I can not imagine a finer voice," Legolas said.

It was Orophin who replied.  "You have not heard Ardamil yet.  Once you 
hear him, you will not have to imagine a finer voice.  You will hear it 
yourself.  There is none better."

"Ardamil?  Truly?  I would never have guessed."

"Haldir calls him the patrol's song bird," Rumil replied.  "But you will give 
him quite a run.  I recall your voice was very good also."

Haldir stood up.  "You may all debate the finest voice once we are on 
patrol," he said lightly.  "But right now, I am retiring.  It has grown late."

The rest of them stood and moved towards the door.  Haldir turned to 
Legolas.  "You are still in the patrol's talans?"  Legolas replied that he was, 
at which Haldir informed him that he would come by to get him after the 
morning meal.

Orophin offered to see Legolas back to the talans, but Legolas deferred, 
preferring to go on his own.  Certain images were still fresh in his mind, 
and he desired to indulge those images in solitude.  Yet, he had not gone 
far when he heard a voice call out his name.

"Prince Legolas!"

Legolas turned to see one of the elves that had been with him on the way 
down from Mirkwood.  The elf's name was Nenstil.

"Nenstil," Legolas greeted him cheerfully.  "It is good to see you again."

"And you, as well," Nenstil replied.

"But you must not call me 'prince'," Legolas told him.

Nenstil nodded a smile.  "I heard that you are pulling duty with the Wide 
Patrol."   

"Yes, it was Lord Celeborn's idea," Legolas replied.  "And I must say, it 
seems a good one."

"Have you met Nikerym Haldir yet?"  Nenstil asked.

"Yes."

"And how do you like him?"

"Very much."

"He is an excellent captain.  He will be able to teach you a great deal."

Legolas gave a nod.  "So I have heard.  I have not had much experience 
with him yet, but I will be spending the next two days with him before the 
patrol goes back on duty."

"You will be happy, then," Nenstil said assuredly.  "Haldir has a way of 
making his warriors feel very much loved."  He paused and regarded 
Legolas with a mildly appraising aire.  "And you will suit him well.  Yes, 
your placement in the Wide Patrol must be highly agreeable to him."

Legolas found Nenstil's manner rather odd, but there was nothing unkind 
or caustic in his words, and so Legolas inclined his head graciously and 
replied, "It is highly agreeable to me, as well."

"I am sure it is.  There are many who would envy your position," came the 
grinning reply.  "Haldir is very particular about those whom he chooses to 
be members of his patrol.  It is considered a great honor to be selected by 
him."

Nenstil was still speaking with ease and friendliness, but this last remark 
make Legolas wonder if, perhaps, Nenstil was speaking of himself when 
he referred to those who might envy Legolas's easy induction into the 
Wide Patrol.  "He did not select me," Legolas stated, feeling somewhat 
embarrassed.  "But I do not imagine he would question Lord Celeborn's 
decision.  I can only hope that I bring no dishonor to either of them."

Nenstil's smile seemed to waver for an instant, but then it was back in full 
force.  "Look at you.  You could not possibly bring dishonor.  In fact, it is 
more likely that you would bring honor to those who are not deserving of 
it."

Legolas stared at him.  "What do you mean by that?"

"Nothing in particular.  It is just a general observation.  During our journey 
from Mirkwood, it did not escape my notice that you have a great many 
talents and a certain charisma.  I am quite confident that you are admired 
wherever you go," Nenstil replied.  "And therefore, others would be 
admired by association."

Legolas gave an uncomfortable laugh.  "This is news, indeed.  I have never 
thought of myself in those terms."

"Not to worry," Nenstil replied.  "Haldir will ensure that you feel your own 
importance.  You will be cherished as only Haldir can cherish."  He gave a 
slight bow.  "A good night to you, Prince Legolas."

Legolas watched him go.

***

Haldir was punctual.  No sooner had Legolas finished the morning meal in 
the patrol's common mess than Haldir appeared in the doorway, dressed 
simply in Lorien woodland colors and without weapons.  Several of the 
elves present in the mess greeted him and there was some conversation, 
which Legolas listened to with feigned interest.  At last, Haldir determined 
that it was time to go, and Legolas accompanied him from the mess.

Legolas had been expecting to head directly for the armorers in order that 
he might check on his long-bow, but Haldir had other ideas.

"I think you should get to know the lay of the land," he said as he led the 
way towards the main gate.  "I will take you beyond the borders, but only 
to the other side of the river.  There are some key checkpoints with which 
you should be acquainted."

Legolas went along with him as they spent the greater part of the morning 
heading south through the woods, coming to the main launchings of the 
Celebrant.  Here, they crossed in a punt to the east bank and took up 
horses.  And all the while, Haldir pointed out various signs in their 
surroundings that only a tracker would notice.  A bent blade of grass.  An 
impression in soft ground.  Indentations on the sides of moss-covered 
trees.  He also noted landmarks and pathways, both on the ground and 
overhead.  But what amazed Legolas most was Haldir's uncanny ability to 
feel the woods around him.

"You learn more from the mood of the trees and the talk of the birds than 
you do from any of the signs," he remarked as they went along the eastern 
shore of the Celebrant, where the sun cast a dappled mosaic on the grassy 
path beside the water, sheltered by trees that waved slightly in the morning 
breeze.

"And what is the mood?"  Legolas asked.

"Everything is peaceful and in order," Haldir replied, then he turned a 
curious eye to Legolas.  "Can you not feel that at all?"

"I can see that everything is peaceful," Legolas replied.  "But I can't feel 
it."

"That comes as a surprise to me," Haldir said thoughtfully.  "I always 
believed Mirkwood elves were very sensitive about such things – 
especially given the wicked things that have dwelt in your forests."

"I am willing to learn, if such a skill can be taught." Legolas tried not to 
sound to eager.

"It can be taught to a certain degree.  But beyond a rudimentary level, it 
requires a natural predisposition to it in order to be effective," Haldir 
explained.  "You will have much opportunity to learn and practice it 
during the patrol."

They came to a clearing adjacent to the river bank, and here they 
dismounted, Haldir announcing that it was time for the midday meal.  He 
had brought a small satchel, and from this he carefully laid out the meager 
contents and allowed the horses to graze freely.
Haldir said a few words in the ancient language and then invited Legolas 
to help himself to the meal.

They spoke very little as they ate; and when they were finished, Haldir lay 
back in the grass, his arms spread wide, his face turned sunward, his eyes 
closed, a contented smile curling the corners of his mouth.  After a few 
seconds, he spoke softly.  "Do you hear the horses?"

"The horses?  They're over by the edge of the glade," Legolas replied.

"Yes . . . but do you hear them?  They're talking to each other."

Legolas listened.  He could hear quiet snorting sounds, but they meant 
nothing to him.  "What are they saying?"

"They are going to play tricks on us."  Haldir's smile had grown larger.

"Oh?"

"You will see.  Melthea is very playful."  A pause.  "But not yet.  There is 
still time for a bit of rest.  The sun feels very good today."

Legolas looked at him for a long time.  He felt no awkwardness at the 
duration of his gaze, for he had always been an admirer of beautiful things; 
and the more he saw of Haldir, the more he was convinced that he was 
beholding one of the finest creatures in Middle Earth – and it was not 
merely a question of physical beauty.  Haldir seemed to possess a 
trademark peacefulness that surrounded him like a friendly, enveloping 
heat.  There was something open and artless in his manner, and yet 
somehow, he managed to maintain a certain distance, which made him 
appear mysterious; and this, Legolas found to be very enticing.  Still, 
Legolas felt that his fascination with Haldir was nothing unusual, so when 
Haldir opened his eyes to regard him lazily, Legolas did not look away.

"You should take advantage of the moment," Haldir said, his voice rolling 
languidly into the bright midday.

Legolas pondered this comment with a smile.  A pleasant image entered 
his head of a wrestling match under the watching sun, as such encounters 
were common among Legolas and his brothers, wrestling both for fun and 
to establish the order of dominance among them.  But he was forced to 
admit to himself that this was not likely what Haldir was proposing.  
"What do you mean?"  he asked.

"The sun and the quiet.  Why don't you lie back and relax?"

Normally, Legolas would have been concerned for safety, but this time, 
there was no thought at all in his head of dangers.  Lorien was a safe 
haven, and even though he and Haldir were just beyond its borders, he felt 
perfectly secure.  Having Haldir next to him increased his reassurance.  He 
lay back, resting his hands behind his head.

Neither of them spoke for a long time.  There was no need of words.  The 
moment was very close to perfect.  At last, Haldir sat up, filled his lungs 
and stretched.  "And now for the contest."

Legolas sat up as well.  "What contest is that?"

"Watch and you will see," Haldir replied, then added, "I must advise you 
that my dignity will be greatly tarnished in the next few minutes."

"And you will permit me to witness such a thing?"  Legolas grinned.

"Unfortunately, I have no choice.  Melthea will have her fun."  He paused 
and a thoughtful joy came over his features.  "But I don't mind.  She loves 
me, and this is how she shows it."  With that, he began walking leisurely 
across the glen in the direction of the horses.  He had come within a few 
feet, his hand reaching out invitingly, when both animals trotted off in 
opposite directions.  Haldir went after Melthea.  He did not run or even 
show any sign of excitement or perturbation.  He spoke more of the 
ancient language, calling after his errant mount.  But Melthea tossed her 
proud head and continued to move away from him.  After an impressive 
show of prancing and neighing, she circled round very close to Haldir, 
clearly tempting him to try and catch her.  Closer and closer she came on 
every pass, until at last, Haldir sprang towards her, and missing, landed 
face-down in the grass.  It would have been the demise of his dignity, as he 
had warned, but for the sound of his laughter, which rose from the grass 
and filled the glen with a child-like joy.  He was on his feet again quickly, 
still laughing, and now his movements were more oriented towards 
pursuit.  He chased after Melthea, bursting into mirth anew at each failed 
attempt to capture his quarry.  Melthea would issue forth a long string of 
sounds that seemed to urge Haldir on and to which he replied with his own 
incomprehensible ancient replies.

Legolas looked on in amazement.  It was like watching two children 
playing.  He would never have been able to imagine Haldir so 
uninhibited—nearly wild . . . until now.  He felt he could spectate such a 
display for hours on end.  But just as this thought crossed his mind, 
Melthea passed a little too close to her tormented would-be rider, and 
Haldir, in one powerful, vaulting movement, leapt up onto her back with a 
cry of victory.  In the next moment, he leaned forward and wrapped his 
arms around her neck, pressing his cheek against the coarse hair, fully lost 
in the simple happiness of the moment.  It was an expression of love, after 
which Melthea dutifully bore him to where Legolas was standing.

"That was quite a spectacle," Legolas remarked.

"I told you she would leave my dignity in tatters," Haldir replied, sounding 
anything but tattered.  "She teases me."

"You tease back," Legolas replied, and Haldir smiled broadly.

"I do," he agreed.

"That was some mounting maneuver," Legolas said.  "If you had 
misjudged the distance, you might have been trampled."

Haldir shrugged carelessly.  "I've never misjudged, and I've never been 
trampled.  That wasn't even a difficult move.  When we are out on patrol, I 
will take you to visit some of the towns of men.  Their horses are saddled.  
Now, there is an opportunity to learn some very impressive techniques."

"I would be happy just to learn this one," Legolas said.

"I will teach you, but not just yet.  Later, in safer environs, when a healer is 
present," Haldir replied, "Just in case of an accident."

"But you said it wasn't a difficult move," Legolas challenged.

"Comparatively speaking," Haldir countered.  "There are much harder and 
more dangerous maneuvers, but even this one poses a challenge for 
beginners—" he fixed Legolas with an authoritative eye, "—which is what 
you are."

"And do you not think of your own safety?"  Legolas asked.

Haldir's countenance softened.  His answer surprised Legolas.  "What 
good captain does?"

"I would think you no less a good captain if you looked out for your own 
protection," Legolas stated as he mounted his own horse, which had 
returned of his own accord.

Haldir's smile was almost paternal.  "That is why I am the captain and you 
are not," he said gently.

Legolas arched an eyebrow.  "What do you mean by that?"

"Only that a good captain need not look after himself; his warriors will 
look after and protect him," Haldir replied.  "That is something you will 
learn."

"Do your warriors protect you?"  Legolas asked, realizing how ridiculous 
this question was even as it dropped from his lips.  He had seen how 
admired Haldir was among the members of the Wide Patrol.  Orophin had 
even admitted that they protected him.

"Lest I sound too boastful, I will refrain from answering," Haldir replied, 
his voice light and pensive.  "You would do better to ask them."  Then, he 
could not help but add, "But I have been in many dangerous situations, and 
I am still here.  I do not owe my survival to my own abilities."

Legolas was quiet for a moment.  At length, he spoke in a serious voice.  
"But it IS due to your own abilities.  For they would not protect you and 
feel a loyalty to you unless you inspired their trust and confidence."

Haldir gave a small laugh.  "Are you joining ranks with my brothers and 
Ardamil and all the rest of them?  It seems there is a conspiracy to make 
me appreciate myself far too much, and I am already the victim of an 
inflated pride."

"I detect no such unwarranted pride in you," Legolas replied, feeling that 
he had a princely right to speak on such matters.  "On the contrary, you 
seem to hold yourself as being of no account at all."

Haldir looked baffled.  "You are grossly mistaken, Legolas.  When you 
have spent a significant amount of time with me, you will be in a position 
to form an opinion.  And I dare say that it will be a fair revision from what 
you are saying now."

"Your brothers have known you all their lives, and many of your warriors 
have known you all YOUR life.  My opinion of you is in close accord with 
theirs," Legolas persisted.

Haldir actually appeared stumped by this statement.  At last, he said, 
almost mumbling, "Yes, well, none of them are a prince."  He wheeled 
Melthea around, but Legolas followed.

"Am I supposed to have a different opinion of you because I am a prince?"  
Legolas asked.  

"None of my warriors come from royal blood," Haldir replied.  "My 
brothers and I are low born.  There is nothing impressive about the 
members of the Wide Patrol except their skill and loyalty to each other, my 
loyalty to them and theirs to me.  I want you to be a part of that while 
you're here, Legolas.  I told you that I would not treat you like a prince, 
and I meant it.  But you will understand if, somewhere in the back of my 
head, there is a constant quiet reminder that you ARE a prince, an honored 
visitor, and . . . from much higher bloodlines than any of us."

"Are you saying you don't think I can fit in?"

"I'm not saying that at all," Haldir replied, and he was unmistakably 
flustered.  "I am only trying to tell you that . . . that I . . . I am not as . . . 
humble as you think.  Or as humble as I try to be."  He shook his head 
resolutely, as if the action put a firm end to the conversation.  "But this is 
pointless talk.  There is still much to show you.  Let us continue along the 
river."

Legolas did not press any further.  Indeed, he would not have known in 
which direction to pursue.  Haldir, it appeared to Legolas, was every bit as 
enigmatic as Orophin had hinted.  And, if anything, Legolas's curiosity 
was growing.  He wondered what surprises were in store during his stint 
with the Wide Patrol.



Chapter 4	The Wide Patrol

He fell again.  This was beyond humiliating; it was complete and utter 
mortification.  Elves did not tire, he told himself, but nor were they this 
clumsy.  And so, Legolas had to attribute his lack of coordination to 
something else other than fatigue; and looking up the hillside ahead of 
him, he found it no difficult task to pinpoint the cause of his 
embarrassment.  Haldir was picking out foot- and handholds with ease, 
mounting ever higher up the steep incline, apparently with no more effort 
than as if he were strolling through the fields.

'But',  Legolas convinced himself, 'Haldir is familiar with these paths.  
This is all well-known to him.  How else could he set such a quick pace?  
Surely, there is no need for such a hurry!'

Behind him, Rumil spoke as if he had been reading Legolas's thoughts.  
"We told you he was a task-master."

Legolas grunted something incomprehensible, before answering in a more 
decipherable voice, "We have been moving for five days without sleep and 
scarcely a moment to eat.  And I am absolutely certain that, wherever we 
are going, he has picked the most difficult path.  Rivers, marshes, mile 
after mile of brambles and clinging weed, and now this!  He saves this 
climb for the end and makes me look like a feeble elfling!"

Rumil chuckled softly.  "Certainly not feeble.  But all the energy you just 
put into that speech could be better used to get you up the hillside."

"I will make it, if for no other reason than to prove to him that I can.  What 
a pace he sets!"  Legolas groused.

"It is a test of sorts, but not just for you," Rumil said.  "He wants to make 
sure all of us can carry our weight.  Have you ever done such a forced hike 
before in Mirkwood?"

Legolas had to admit that he had not, adding petulantly, "But I am no 
slouch."

Rumil's voice still the ring of humor in it. "I am quite confident that Haldir 
does not consider you to be a slouch."

Several minutes of continued climbing passed, then Legolas asked, 
"Doesn't this weary you?"

"Not at all," Rumil replied.  "But I have been doing this for many 
centuries.  Don't forget, Legolas, that we are all very highly trained and 
conditioned.  You shouldn't expect to be able to match us stride for stride."

That did it.  Legolas knew a challenge when he heard one, even when the 
challenge was kindly meant.  Very well, then . . . if Haldir was going to 
push him, and if the rest of the patrol was going to gleefully be party to it, 
then Legolas would show them what he was made of.  

The patrol reached the top of the hill, and here there stood a circle of 
towering, shapeless boulders.  Haldir called a rest as he moved to the 
northern rim of the hilltop and surveyed the land falling away before him.  
Legolas watched him but did not follow.  Instead, he slid from his 
shoulders the light-weight pack that all members of the Wide Patrol 
carried, and sat down with his back against one of the boulders.  Mythis 
sat down beside him.

"This is beautiful country," Mythis remarked.  "I always enjoy when the 
patrol comes to this area.  It's so wild and unpredictable."

"Does the patrol come here often?"  Legolas asked.

"Fairly often," Mythis replied.  "Haldir likes to come here.  Some of the 
most ancient ruins in Middle Earth are in this area, and that attracts 
Haldir."  He paused, and his look became dour.  "But there have been 
reports of bands of evil things traversing these hills.   We have never 
encountered any, but the Lord and Lady are vigilant and have directed us 
to keep an eye on the area."

"What sorts of evil things?"  Legolas asked.

"Orcs, dark men, cloaked riders, and other things given to less 
description," Mythis replied.

"Will Haldir make camp in such a place?"

"He feels safe here.  After all, from the top of this hill, we can survey the 
surrounding land for miles, as long as the weather is clear.  I predict he 
will tell us shortly that we will pass the night here," Mythis said, 
rummaging through his own pack and withdrawing a vial of clear liquid—
alumivira—from which he permitted himself a small sip.  He held out the 
vial to Legolas.  "Will you have some?"

Legolas accepted.  "I had brought a bottle of Mirkwood's finest nectar as a 
gift to the Lord and Lady, and still it sits in Orophin's talan with the rest of 
the contents of my pack.  For a full two weeks I reminded myself daily to 
retrieve the pack, and daily did I forget.  I am not myself since coming 
here."  It sounded like a half-hearted complaint, and so Mythis decided to 
have some fun with it.

"And why aren't you yourself?"  he asked.

"I hardly know," Legolas replied with exasperation.  "Perhaps it is because 
everything is so new to me.  Perhaps it is because the joy I sense here is 
unlike anything I've ever felt before.  I feel as if I am wandering around in 
wide-eyed wonder, like a gaping little thing who has never experienced the 
world before."

"Have you been out into the world?"  Mythis asked curiously.

Legolas blushed slightly, scarcely noticeable against the red cheeks the 
prolonged hike had produced.  "I have not."

"Then it may be that you are, in fact, reacting simply as you say, like one 
who has never experienced the world.  And there is nothing wrong with 
that—"

"But that shouldn't make me awkward and forgetful," Legolas protested.

Mythis shrugged as he put the alumivira back into his pack.  "Then it must 
be something else.  You will have to think about it."  His gaze moved to 
where Haldir was still standing on the far side of the stone circle, now in 
conversation with Ardamil.  "In the meantime, just enjoy yourself.  You've 
got the best teacher in all of Lorien at your disposal.  Make good use of 
him."

Legolas felt a surge of inward laughter.  Mythis was suggesting that he 
make use of the very cause of his distraction.  Somehow, Legolas doubted 
that this would solve his problem.  In fact, as the evening wore on, he was 
beginning to wonder if he wanted to be cured of his dilemma.

The patrol shared a meal in the fading twilight, and this was followed by 
singing and a very funny story from an elf named Pelvil about his first day 
in the Wide Patrol, in which he related how he had accidentally knocked 
Haldir out of a talan while sparring with another member of the patrol.  
Not far below had been another talan, where the preparations for a formal 
dinner had been underway.  Haldir had landed in the midst of the culinary 
delights; and although he was uninjured, he had been covered in food, and 
his pride had taken a minor blow.  Pelvil had ended up pulling extra duty 
in the kitchens for the patrol's entire time off and its week in garrison.

"And it was honestly a mistake!"  Pelvil laughed.  "I wasn't trying to push 
him off the talan!  It was amazing though—running to the edge, I was 
terrified that he had been seriously injured, and there he was, lying in the 
middle of all that food, the kitchen maids scolding him!"

Haldir sat close to the fire, listening to the story, eyes bright with humor.  
At its conclusion, he stood up and crossed over to where Pelvil sat 
laughing and watching his captain's approach.

"As I recall, you had better success against me than against your 
opponent," Haldir challenged.  "How do you feel about taking me on 
now?"

"I have no doubt that you would best me, Nikerym," Pelvil replied.  "You 
have defeated me every time."

"This might be your chance," Haldir said suggestively.

"Are you insisting, Nikerym?"  Pelvil asked, and although his words were 
meant to sound like protest, there was an anticipatory gleam in his eye.

"I am insisting," Haldir replied.  He pulled off his tunic.  "Come, take your 
chance.  If you are going to tell that story, you must be prepared to pay for 
it."

Pelvil got to his feet and began to undress.  When both elves were bare 
from the waist up, Haldir began to circle.  "Let's see how much you've 
improved."

Legolas watched them circling each other in the firelight.  He could not 
help but admire Haldir's body, solid and perfectly shaped, well-muscled 
and powerful.  It was the body of maturity, as opposed to Legolas's own 
slighter, more sinewly build – the body of a youth.  Pelvil was built more 
like Legolas, and just looking at the two of them opposed in the dancing 
light, it was clear to see that the advantage was on Haldir's side.  

When the two elves closed with one another, Legolas found himself 
moving to get into a better viewing position.  Haldir had Pelvil on the 
ground in an instant with the latter's arms leveraged behind him in Haldir's 
uncompromising grasp.

"You're not even trying!"  Haldir accused, grinning wickedly.  "Shall I 
make you resist?"

"No, no!"  Pelvil was actually laughing, and he began to struggle with 
renewed vigor.  He managed to roll onto his side, dislodging Haldir, 
although to Legolas's eyes, it appeared as if Haldir had permitted him the 
move.

It was exhilarating to watch them, limbs entwined in a contest of strength, 
bodies pressed close and rolling across the ground as each tried to claim 
supremacy.  The sight of Haldir's fingers firmly gripping Pelvil's dust- and 
sweat-covered flesh filled Legolas's head with pleasant thoughts of 
belonging and acceptance.  It was almost as if Haldir were affirming 
Pelvil's status as one of his own, even at the same time as they struggled 
against each other.  And then it was over.  Haldir had Pelvil pinned on his 
back, and there was no chance of his getting loose.  Then Haldir did 
something that Legolas was not expecting.  He closed his eyes and placed 
a tender kiss on Pelvil's forehead.

"My story-teller," he said in a soft voice.  "Not today, but you're getting 
closer."

Something about this little exchange drove straight for Legolas's heart.  
His eyes darted to the faces around him to see if any of his companions 
betrayed any kind of reaction to the scene, but there was nothing in their 
gazes other than affection and humor.  He then watched as Haldir got to 
his feet, helped Pelvil up, and brushed the vanquished elf's silver hair back 
from his face.  There was incredible warmth in Haldir's eyes, which 
reflected back to him from Pelvil's happy countenance.  After several 
seconds, Haldir turned his attention to the rest of the patrol.

"Everyone to sleep," he ordered.  "Luredan, Henschel, you have first 
watch."

As the rest of the patrol shook out their sleeping rolls and took up places 
around the fire, Legolas watched Haldir, and if truth be told, he was half-
expecting to see him disappear into the darkness with Pelvil.  Legolas felt 
ashamed at the thought, but he could not stop it from pressing forward into 
his awareness.  His expectation was only partially met, though, for Haldir 
did step outside the ring of stones and beyond sight.  But Pelvil remained 
within, making a place for himself next to Ardamil and close to the fire.

Legolas did not prepare for sleep.  Instead, he slipped outside the stone 
circle and followed its outer rim around to the far side where he had seen 
Haldir go into the dark.  He moved a few paces into the wood before 
hearing Haldir's voice, chanting melodiously, once again in the ancient 
tongue.  He moved as quietly as he could, coming at last to a small 
clearing, only a few yards across, and here under the moonlight, he came 
upon Haldir, still only half-dressed, down on one knee, his head bowed.

The rhythm of the chanting, the sound of the words, Haldir's mesmerizing 
voice:  all of it conspired to hold Legolas in place.  He did not even realize 
that the chanting had stopped until he found Haldir standing in front of 
him, a neutral expression on his face.

"Is there something I can do for you, Legolas?" he asked kindly.

Legolas stammered through the beginnings of some excuse, but at last 
decided the truth was easier.  "I'm sorry.  I was eavesdropping."

"And what did you hear?"

"It sounded like . . . a prayer or something."

Haldir nodded.  "It was a prayer of thanks."

"It was very beautiful."

"You should have joined me."

"I was happy just to listen, "Legolas replied. "That was Primordial Elvish 
again, wasn't it?"

"You recognized it?"

Legolas nodded.  "It's so lyrical, so . . . transcendent.  I'm surprised I have 
never heard it spoken before."

Haldir began walking, taking a circuitous route back towards the camp.  "It 
is only used for ceremonial purposes now . . . and even then, rarely."

"How did you learn it?"

"My uncle taught me and my brothers.  Orophin and Rumil have a 
rudimentary knowledge of it, enough to follow the rituals and say a few 
basic prayers, but not enough to carry on a conversation," Haldir replied.

"Can you carry on a conversation?"

"I'm very fluent."  A sad pause.  "But there are not many with whom I can 
converse."

"I should very much like to learn, if you be willing to teach."

Haldir did not stop walking as he cast a considering eye at Legolas.  "I am 
willing, if your desire be genuine and fervent."

"It is, I assure you."

There was a brief pause, then Haldir nodded once.  "We can begin 
tomorrow after the evening meal then, if you like.  I have none of the 
scrolls or books, of course; but that will be little hindrance."  

They walked on, Legolas noticed, in a wide circle around the outside of 
the stone ring.  Haldir spoke again.  "I have not been able to spend much 
time with you since the patrol set out.  How are you getting on?"

"It has been arduous," Legolas replied honestly.

"Really?"  Haldir sounded genuinely surprised.

"But nothing I can not manage," Legolas added quickly.  "I was not 
expecting so long a journey in our first few days out."

"I only stopped here for the night because I enjoy this place.  By tomorrow 
evening, we will have reached our patrol radius," Haldir replied.  "Then, 
there will be a respite from all the marching."

"And what then?"

"The patrol will split into four groups and cover different areas for four or 
five days, gathering information on happenings in the area, scouting about 
for anything that seems new or amiss.  Then we will regroup and move 
onto the next area and do the same," Haldir replied.  "I will take you in my 
group, the first couple times at least."

Legolas smiled in the darkness.  "I can hardly wait."

***

The next day's journey was carried out in much the same manner as in 
previous days.  They came out of the mountainous country into a wide 
stretch of lowlands dotted with the villages of men.  These villages, Haldir 
informed Legolas, were little more than watering holes along the main and 
lesser roads criss-crossing the region; but they were excellent places to 
pick up little bits of intelligence, and they offered many glimpses into the 
lives of men, and this, Haldir had to admit, was an object of unceasing 
fascination for him.  For although Haldir cherished the safety and purity of 
life in Lorien, he was very fond of experience, one of the facets of his 
character that made him such an excellent patroller.  It could not be said 
that he approved of all the things he found in the world of men, but he was 
well able to separate his observation of various evils from the action of 
embracing those evils.

And those evils were enumerated to Legolas in a fair amount of detail as 
Haldir led the way down into a broad, shallow valley that would mark the 
end of the patrol's common travel.  After a few cautionary remarks and a 
determining of the regrouping time and location, the patrol broke into four 
pre-established groups.  With Haldir and Legolas went Mythis and four 
other elves whom Legolas had met only briefly:  Ascalonn, the patrol's 
second healer; Lostilsil, an odd combination of gentle boldness; Dolenrod, 
lighthearted and quickwitted; and Enthamis, the newest member of the 
patrol.   Their destination was a town named Wayfare, and Haldir had 
quite a bit to say about it.

"It is not the roughest town I have been in, but nor can it be called safe.  
Many of the highway bandits take refuge here, and the establishments 
cater to them.  They are not the sorts of men with whom I would wish to 
keep company, but they often have much to tell about the comings and 
goings on the highways," he explained as his group picked their way 
across the gorse-covered field south of the town.

"And they give their information freely?"  Legolas asked, sounding 
doubtful.

"Several pints of drink loosens their tongues," Dolenrod replied.  "Half the 
time it is impossible to get them to stop talking."

"The talking is not so bad," Mythis said.  "They have many habits that are 
much worse.  I hate coming to this town, especially after the beauty of the 
hills."

"What other habits do they have that are so awful?"  This from Legolas.

"They are leering, groping creatures," Mythis answered, his voice rife with 
disgust.  "Every time I come here, I feel like they are following my every 
movement and thinking indecent thoughts."

"They are," Lostilsil affirmed.  "Do not forget—this was where Maynfeln 
was attacked.  It is dangerous to let your guard down for even a moment."

"Lostilsil is right," Haldir said.  "There should be no call for any of us to 
be found alone."  

"Attacked?  What do you mean, attacked?  By whom?"  Legolas asked.

It was Lostilsil who replied.  "Some of the men outside one of the taverns 
– they attacked him out of lust."

"The men in these parts seem to find male Elvish beauty much to their 
liking," Dolenrod added.  

"If it were not for Ardamil and Desmone, those men might have taken 
Maynfeln," Lostilsil continued.  "They showed up just in time, and their 
rage was nothing the attackers wanted to confront."

"Was Maynfeln injured?"  Legolas asked.

"Only a few bruises," Lostilsil replied.  "As I said, luckily, part of the 
patrol showed up in time to stop them."

"All of which should call our attention to the exercise of caution," Haldir 
interjected, his voice strong and decisive.  "We can not do our job of 
reconnaissance if we are timid like rabbits.  But we must be vigilant when 
in the company of wickedness.  No one is to go about alone.  No one is to 
court confrontation.  We are here to collect information; nothing more."

There was a general acknowledgement of this speech, and then the rest of 
the approach to Wayfare was accomplished in silence.

***

They procured lodgings in a barn on the outskirts of the town, Haldir 
feeling that it was safer to lodge with animals than the humans who 
patronized the various inns.  Then, together, the elves walked towards the 
village center.  Along the way, at Haldir's bidding, Lostilsil and Mythis 
broke off, then Ascalonn & Dolenrod, leaving Haldir, Enthamis, and 
Legolas alone to come at last to The Wayfarer's Hide, a derelict-in-
appearance tavern that, from the sound of things, was anything but 
deserted inside.

Before entering, Haldir turned to the other two elves and reminded them, 
"We are here to gather information.  All that is required of the two of you 
is that you listen and observe.  Elves are not a common sight in this town.  
It has been more than six months since the patrol was last here.  Enthamis, 
I am sure you have not forgotten the dangers."  His gaze moved to 
Legolas.  "Don't do anything provocative."

They left the street and entered the tavern.  It was a dim place, dank with 
the smell of alcohol, as if the very floor and walls breathed the stuff.  
Torches smoked in the corners, candles burned on the tables, and lanterns 
lung from the ceiling.  From one end to the other, the main room was filled 
with the sweating, stinking bodies of men and the painted bodies of the 
women that entertained them.  There was much going on:  drinking, 
laughing, singing, gaming.  The arrival of the three elves occasioned only a 
brief lull in the intensity of the evening's pleasures as most eyes regarded 
the strangers with dull interest.  They certainly stood out among the 
tavern's patrons, but Haldir was so casual, so confident that very soon he 
and his companions were seated at a table and attentions had shifted back 
to their original occupations.

Haldir ordered three mugs of ale, with the warning that, "You must not 
drink very much of it.  It is foul stuff, but it looks better to have it before 
you than to simply be seen watching."

Legolas tasted the mug's contents.  "I find it rather agreeable," he 
announced.

"That is your Mirkwood palate," Enthamis poked.

They talked quietly among themselves, but always they were listening for 
any interesting tidbit, any worthwhile piece of news.  At length, Haldir 
motioned them close, and they leaned across the table to listen to him.

"I am going into the dark rooms," he said, his eyes darting towards a door 
in the back of the tavern, covered by a heavy curtain.  Throughout the 
night, a steady stream of men and women had been seen going through the 
doorway.  From their fulfilled appearance upon coming out from the 'dark 
rooms', it was clear what was being carried on inside. "You are both to 
stay here at this table until I come back.  I do not want to have to go 
searching for either one of you."

Haldir saw the expression of surprise—near horror, in fact—that appeared 
on Legolas's face, and he knew that the Greenleaf was contemplating 
Haldir's participation in the activities that went on in the dark rooms.  "The 
humans behind those curtains are the best sources of information," Haldir 
said glibly.  "And an elf doesn't have to do much to gain that information."  
He did not linger long enough to see that his comment had done nothing to 
ease the concern and disbelief.  Instead, he made directly for the curtain 
and disappeared behind it, leaving Legolas too stunned to speak for several 
long seconds.

But it was Enthamis who spoke first.  "It is not possible that he would 
subject himself to such attentions simply to extract some little piece of 
news.  That would contradict everything I know about him."  His words 
betrayed the fact that he was not completely clear on what Haldir was 
doing behind the curtain.

Legolas shook his head, dumbfounded.  "It would be . . . shocking," he 
admitted.

The two of them sat there, pondering.  As the minutes passed without 
either of them saying anything, Legolas began to feel a strange sense of 
anxiety.  What *was* Haldir back there?  What information could he 
possibly be gathering, and what was he doing to get it?  His mind was 
rapidly filling with ghastly images of Haldir entwined in the sordid arms of 
those who awaited in the darkness, giving their pleasures to any and all 
comers, so long as there was a bit of pay to be had in the deal.

He fought his anxiousness as long as he could, but after nearly an hour, he 
could bear it no longer.  He got abruptly to his feet.  "We should go back 
there.  He may in trouble," he stated forcefully, although possible 'trouble' 
played no real part in his concerns.  

But Enthamis was not moved.  "No, that is not a good idea," he disagreed.  
"The captain can take care of himself."

"But it's been an hour," Legolas persisted.  "No one else has stayed back 
there that long.  Any news he was trying to get, he should have gotten by 
now.  There's no reason for him to be back there so long."

"He may be working on more than one—" Enthamis began, but Legolas 
cut him off with a mournful groan that almost sounded as if the Prince of 
Mirkwood had been wounded.

"Say no more!"  Legolas cried.  "We must go back there and get him!"

Enthamis also now got to his feet, just as a heavy hand fell upon Legolas's 
shoulder.  A throaty voice spoke in slurred syllables.  "Why all the 
commotion?"

Legolas turned to see a broad, red-faced man with yellowing eyes and 
dripping forehead regarding him with an expression of drunken interest.  
Nearby, several more men had turned their attention in the elves' direction.

"It is a matter of private business," Legolas replied, stepping out from 
under the man's hand.

"You're not making it very private," came the response.  "Looks like you're 
distressed.  Maybe I can do something to help."  He sucked on his lower 
lip and his eyes slid down the length of Legolas's body.

Enthamis drew back his cloak to reveal the sword at his side in an obvious 
gesture of intimidation.  "Thank you for your offer, but we require no 
assistance."

A second man, large and feral in appearance, approached from the 
scattered onlookers.  "Where's your leader?"

Enthamis moved to stand in between Legolas and the two men.  "He is not 
far."

"You're right about that," the feral man sneered.  "I think I saw him go into 
the back room, didn't I?  I'm sure he's engaged in his own business.  And if 
he's enjoying himself, why shouldn't you pretty things enjoy yourselves?"

Enthamis's right hand went to his sword hilt.  "We are perfectly content in 
each other's company.  Depart from us, now, for we wish no trouble."

"We wish no trouble, either," the first man replied.  He took a step back, 
coaxing his companion to retreat with him, until they faded into the crowd.

Enthamis and Legolas sat back down.

"Do not do anything to draw any further attention to us," Enthamis warned 
quietly.

"But what about Haldir?"  Legolas demanded, although he kept his voice 
low.  "I don't like what that man said . . . I'm afraid something may have 
happened to him."

"We will wait a few more minutes.  If he does not come out, we will both 
go back there to look for him," Enthamis replied.  "But in the meantime, 
we can not afford to get into a scrape."

Legolas accepted this grudgingly.  He found himself looking every few 
seconds at the curtain, hoping to see Haldir emerge.  But while patron after 
patron came through the opening, Haldir was not among them.

"Enthamis—" he began, about to insist that they had waited long enough.  
But at that moment, there came the sound of a great excitement from the 
street.  Both Legolas and Enthamis turned their attention towards the 
doorway, through which many of the tavern's occupants were now pouring 
out into the street to see what was happening.

Legolas heard a low voice at his ear.  "Your friend is out there, and he's in 
trouble."  Legolas turned to see one of the tavern's harlots walking away.  
It was she who had spoken.

Without a word to Enthamis, Legolas rushed towards the door, pushing 
through the mass of reeking bodies.  In the center of the dirt road, he could 
see a tight knot of at least a dozen men, moving in agitation and 
excitement.

Back inside the tavern, Enthamis stood in confusion for a moment.  He 
called after Legolas but to no avail.  Then he caught sight of the woman 
who had whispered into Legolas's ear.  She was falling into the arms of a 
man at the bar and laughing, then she and the man moved towards the 
door, intent on viewing whatever it was going on in the street.

Enthamis did not go outside.  Instead, he went to the curtain, pushed it 
aside, and went into the dark rooms.

Outside, Legolas headed for the men in the road.  He was almost upon 
them, when the circle opened up to reveal the two men who had 
confronted him and Enthamis inside the Wayfarer's Hide.  Haldir was not 
among the group, and as Legolas cast a shocked glance back over his 
shoulder, he saw that he was now surrounded by a maliciously anxious 
cordon of men.  His arm flashed up to snatch an arrow from his quiver, 
and he managed to take down three of the men, before he was overcome 
by their numbers.  He was passed roughly from man to man, their hands 
grasping and reaching, until he found himself in the steely grip of the feral 
man.

"Here's a bit o' fun, then!"  the man laughed.  "Elf warriors are prettier than 
our own maids!"  His companions joined in the laughter.  "You all can 
take your turns after me!"

Legolas twisted violently, but his struggles only fueled his captor's lurid 
excitement.  The man was trying to force him to his knees, and he was 
succeeding.

"Enthamis!!"  Legolas shouted.  "Enthamis!!"

But it was not Enthamis's voice that answered.

"Release him!"  

Legolas looked up and spotted Haldir through the cluster of bodies around 
him.  The Captain of the Wide Patrol was standing in the center of the 
road, his bow unslung, an arrow in position. The power of his voice rose 
above the commotion, drawing everyone's attention.  And while his 
presence made some of the assaulters quail, others were less squeamish.

"Why don't you come and get him, Elf?"  the feral man replied, twisting 
around and holding Legolas in front of him.

"Release him or I will kill you," Haldir said with impeccable calm, but 
there was no doubting the seriousness in his voice.

"Then kill me!  But be careful not to hit him!"  the man laughed.  He had 
barely finished his sentence when an arrow struck him in the shoulder.  He 
roared with pain and rage, his hold on Legolas broken.  Legolas dove away 
from him as Haldir let fly with another arrow, this time catching the man 
in the other shoulder.  

Legolas rolled to safety at the edge of the road, his head coming up just in 
time to see a horseman approaching Haldir from behind, sword raised.

"Behind you!!"  he cried out, scrabbling to his feet.

Haldir turned but instead of getting out the way, he stood his ground as the 
horse drew near.  Legolas's voice erupted in a scream as the animal bore 
down upon Haldir, but then he found himself staring in awe as Haldir 
suddenly swung in front of the animal and up onto its back, knocking the 
rider from the saddle in the same maneuver.  Legolas was still looking on 
in shock as Haldir plowed through the rest of the attackers, riding them 
down and scattering them into the darkness, just as Enthamil arrived with 
Ascalonn and Dolenrod, all three of whom had their bows ready.  Within 
seconds, the crowd had dispersed, deciding that all the tales of the sorcery 
and trickery that surrounded elves were true, and that to confront even one 
was to court disaster.

Haldir slid from the saddle and approached Legolas directly.  "Are you 
alright?"  he asked, taking gentle hold of Legolas's arms and eyeing him 
closely.

"Yes," Legolas replied quietly.  "Just a little shaken."

"How did this happen?"  Haldir asked as Enthamis, Ascalonn and 
Dolenrod joined them.

"There was a ruckus out in the road, and one of the women said you were 
in trouble—" Legolas began, but he stopped when he saw the look in 
Haldir's eyes.  It was a frightful expression.

"I told you to stay in the tavern, at the table."

"I know that, but I couldn't just sit still when I thought you might be in 
need of help," Legolas replied.

"And was I in need of help?"  Haldir's voice seethed with quiet rage.

Legolas blanched.  "No.  It was a trick."

"A trick to lure you outside," Haldir expounded, and Legolas shrunk 
slightly away from the look of anger that accompanied the voice.  "Did 
you listen to nothing that I said when we approached this village?  Did you 
think we were all speaking warnings for our own benefit?  We have 
experience here!  We do not talk to amuse ourselves or to have you ignore 
our words."  

Ascalonn put an arm around Legolas's shoulders in a gesture of comfort 
and with the hope of deflecting some of Haldir's ire, but he did not speak.

"I thought I was doing the right thing," Legolas insisted.

Haldir turned sharply to Enthamis.  "Why did you not stop him?"

"I am sorry, Nikerym.  I thought only to find you," Enthamis replied, 
looking Haldir in the eye.

Haldir grunted something unintelligible, then spoke more clearly.  "Well, 
find me you did.  I suppose that is something.  And you did well in finding 
Ascalonn and Dolenrod.  Come, we are going back to the farm.  The 
night's work is over.  Dolenrod, go fetch Mythis and Lostilsil."

"Yes, Nikerym," Dolenrod replied.  He winked encouragingly at Legolas 
as he left.

Haldir led the way back towards the outskirts of the town.  Ascalonn 
followed, then Legolas beside Enthamis.

"I am sorry I got you into trouble," Legolas whispered.

Enthamis grinned in the moonlight.  "Don't be sorry.  Just be careful.  
Even if you get out of a dangerous situation, you still have Haldir to 
contend with."

"As I noticed," Legolas replied.  "Will he ignore me now?"

"Hardly."  Enthamis almost laughed.  "He will wait until his anger cools, 
then he will torment you relentlessly until you have decided that you will 
never again do anything so foolish as to disobey even the slightest of his 
wishes."

Legolas liked the challenging sound of Enthamis's words.  "Is that so?"

"It is," Enthamis replied with certitude.

"Are you speaking from experience?"

"I am.  Even though I am still fairly new to the patrol, I have had my share 
of dressing-downs over things I should not have done."  He leaned close 
and lowered his voice even more.  "But the others tell me that such is 
Haldir's way, that he makes such a fuss only because each individual 
warrior is important to him.  It is almost a mark of affection."

Legolas's eyes narrowed with interest.  "Indeed?  I am not quite sure I 
believe that, so I will have to take your word for it."

***

The barn was comfortable.  Haldir had known it would be.  He detested 
sleeping in the travelers' inns – the cramped rooms, the infested 
mattresses, the abiding smell of urine, the incessant noise of other 
travelers.  He much preferred the sweet smell of straw, the quiet of the 
barnyard, and the much greater safety that removed lodgings afforded. 

He lay now deep in the warmth of the piled hay with his sleeping roll 
behind his head, absorbed in thought as the rest of his small patrol tended 
to their weapons in the glow of the lanterns or engaged in quiet 
conversations of their own.  He was not surprised to find that this thoughts 
centered on the events of the evening, and particularly on  Legolas.  There 
was definitely an impetuous edge to the Prince of Mirkwood, and that 
could prove dangerous if left uncorrected.  Only how was Haldir to correct 
a prince without ruffling the feathers of diplomacy?  It seemed clear to 
Haldir that while Legolas was kind and fun-loving and eager-to-please, he 
was also pampered and used to doing things his own way, and those ways 
apparently had never been questioned.  His charm and beauty had made 
his actions acceptable—even the most reckless and irresponsible of those 
actions.  Haldir could sense it even within the patrol:  Legolas had only to 
smile, utter a few words of contrition, and his wrongs would be reshaped 
into inexperience, mistakes, or doing what he thought was right.  Why, 
even Haldir could feel himself being worked upon!  This last fact worried 
him more than anything else, for Haldir liked to consider himself above 
such superficial attractions as a quick wit and a pleasing face.  Still, he 
could not deny that he found Legolas to be a likeable and entertaining elf, 
and he knew that he had been assigned this task because his Lord thought 
highly of him and trusted him to look after Legolas, certainly with the 
expectation that a positive report would be sent back to Mirkwood on the 
hospitality of the Lorien elves, not to mention their warrior prowess.  And 
so, although Haldir had not chosen Legolas to be in his patrol, in the patrol 
he was; and Haldir was determined to appreciate his presence at t