Summary: After the War of the Ring, Legolas and Haldir discuss post-war elvish politics. Haldir makes a startling offer..
Story Warnings: ROTK Spoilers! Slash, Graphic Sex, Mild BDSM themes. Rating NC-17.
Disclaimer: These characters and Middle-Earth are the copyright of the Tolkien estate and this fan fiction is not meant to infringe on that copyright in any way.
Thanks to beta readers Suzana and Aayesha. Feedback is welcome to Tyellas@hotmail.com
The
rain of a summer night veiled the city of Minas Tirith. Hardening into a
downpour, it sluiced the palaces and fine houses in the city's seventh circle,
and it beat against the panes of a mullioned window.
Inside
the windowed room, a warrior turned away from the glass. "I am glad the skies
waited until the War of the Ring was over before opening like this. It is rain
to make a soldier curse, even in the depths of the woods," observed Legolas to
his companion. "Or are even downpours tempered in the woods of Lothlorien,
Haldir?"
"It
is true that the rains fall softly there," said Haldir.
"There
you are, then: that proves my point further. So I hold steadfast when I say I
will not do as you propose." said Legolas, laughing. "I have made my plans
for the years to come. You know well that I will dwell in Ithilien for a time,
with any of the Elves who care to join me. And then I go over Sea."
Haldir
looked on the other elf-warrior, who had come through war and horror still with
a smile beneath his stern brows. In the lamplit room, Legolas' hair gleamed
against the black surtot he wore, broidered with the silver tree of Gondor. Thus
clad, Legolas stood straighter than arrow or mallorn-tree, though utterly
relaxed. Weighed by admiration, Haldir bent to one knee. "Might I beseech you
to do it for my sake? Many noble elves I know, yet there is no other I would ask
- nor have."
"Yes,
but - Celeborn! Galadriel!" Legolas, still mirthful, shook his head. "And
you think I would be fit to take their place as the lord of Lothlorien?"
Haldir,
vehement, stood up, even as Legolas decided to settle in a wide wooden chair. He
became more sombre as he listened to Haldir's plea. "I tell you, they have
no heir," said Haldir. "Since her foe Sauron fell, Galadriel is of a mind to
take ship tomorrow. My lady's gaze is ever on the horizon. My lord Celeborn
says he will bide a while, but he is the most uxorious of elf-men, and my guess
is he shall follow soon after. If they both leave Middle-Earth, there will be no
lord of Lothlorien, the realm I love, and it will fade all the faster. Who
better to take that high seat than you?"
Legolas
shook his head. "I have not the arts of either of them, to maintain its
beauty, let alone its wardings. And I would be further away from…"
"…from
your mortal friends," said Haldir, with a touch of bitterness. He saw Legolas
turn away at that, and sweetened his temper immediately. "Does not your friend
Gimli love Lothlorien? Surely it would delight him as well as me to have you
there." He saw that this had hit the mark.
"Hm.
Perhaps," said Legolas, "if you can explain why you think me fit to be the
lord of an elf-realm. And do not say that it is because I am nobly born. One of
the greatest heroes in this war, Samwise the halfling, was not, and his deeds
far exceeded mine."
To
show his fealty, Haldir knelt before Legolas where he sat, placing one hand on
each of Legolas' knees. "You would have been by the halflings' side, had
they allowed it, I am sure. Your courage took you to the very gates of Mordor,
in the face of certain torment! As well," said Haldir, more practically, "I
know no other elf as well suited as you for the politics of the coming time. Few
elves will remain in Middle-Earth. Any elf-lord would have to deal much with
mortals; humans, dwarves, and halflings. Not only would you handle such
diplomacy with skill, but you might be well pleased to do so."
Legolas
smiled at the vision of tempered arrogance kneeling before him, all Haldir's
strength of form and feature turned to persuasion. "You see what is needed
with a clear eye. What about you, o Captain of Lorien? Why are you unfit for the
high seat?"
Haldir's
face went blank with surprise. "It… it would not be for me. I have served
Lorien's rulers well; that is more my place."
Legolas
laughed and leaned back in his chair. "Ah, Haldir, Haldir. I have seen this
before. Proud and capable ones held back because their wish is - to serve, and
to have orders to follow." Haldir looked aside, embarrassed, and Legolas
leaned forwards to speak more gently. "You might be a lord in your own right,
you know. That is how noble families begin."
Haldir
shook his head. "I would not change the role that has been my fulfillment.
Besides. This is a time of ending for our people."
Only
the sound of the rain was heard as the two elf-men looked at each other.
Eventually, Legolas sighed. "I know, my friend. I make myself be merry lest I
weep to think on it."
Haldir
brightened at these words; knowing that his sorrow was shared allowed him to put
it aside. "If you are my friend, then think about it a little more. In the
meantime; we are alone." He placed a hand on Legolas' thigh. "How may I
ease or cheer you?"
Their
eyes met, and Legolas found his sharp smile again. "Help me forget our fate
for an evening. Serve me a little bit, as you know I like it…" The
archer's gentle words still carried an edge, for Haldir remembered well how he
had served Legolas once before. As Haldir slid his hand higher, Legolas leaned
fully back into the chair, arching his lean hips forwards, spreading his hard,
narrow thighs. The black leather surtot draped over his crotch.
Haldir
swallowed as he turned the leather upwards, unlacing breeches to free the cock
inside. Legolas made no move to aid him. Having freed what he sought, Haldir
fondled and admired it, feeling the length swell to life in his hand. Soon an
erection stood, as heart-breakingly perfect as the rest of the elf-man; virile
and hard as a stag's antler, creamy as new ivory, springing from a nest of
golden moss. Haldir slid his tongue along its length, down and up again,
satisfied down to his gut to feel his mouth filled with that erection. Through
the heavy, warm smell of leather, he caught the salt and musk of Legolas' own
body. Haldir stopped mouthing the cock-head to do what had pleased Legolas once
before, suckling at the scrotum.
Legolas
was glad that Haldir was not inclined to rush. It gave him time to set aside
being diplomatic, modest, neutral. He welcomed the return of passions he had set
by since the War of the Ring had begun. It would have been so much easier to
bear the Sea-hunger had there been any release for him! And now there was, the
hot breath and wet mouth a little furnace of pleasure, moving over him. He
placed one of his hands on the back of Haldir's labouring head. "I needed
this," he murmured, and felt Haldir's tonguing change to a swallowing
suction. The archer lolled back in the chair, luxuriating in the sensuous,
selfish indulgence.
Legolas
held back as long as he could. It was a mild cruelty, to keep the other elf-man
kneeling on the stone floor, jaws stretched and labouring around a hard, hot
shaft. But it was cruel to himself as well. Haldir never faltered, still drawing
hungrily, each stroke of the mouth encasing his cock making it pulse. When the
pulse turned into an ache, Legolas started to arch his hips, thrusting his cock
into the mouth before him, feeling the head of it stroke the start of Haldir's
throat. That tender contact flared, and he gave up torturing himself to come.
Haldir
lingered and sucked Legolas clean of every drop of seed. When Legolas drew back
at last, Haldir did not break the mood. He humbly slid Legolas' phallus back
inside his black garments, fastening them, smoothing the surtot down as if
draping a cloth over a treasure. Then he looked up again, wondering if
Legolas' mood was softer.
Legolas
was moved by this submission that continued beyond desire fulfilled. The
kneeling elf was twice as handsome as before, his flushed face making his hair
brighter by contrast, eyes bright with a light beyond the reflection of the
lamps. Haldir was kneeling with his legs parted to ease the pressure of the
erection tenting out his garments. Legolas reached down and caressed Haldir's
rich hair, possessively. He tilted up Haldir's face.
"If it is your pleasure to serve, Haldir, you also make it a delight to
have such service. But what I would do now - you may not think me so lordly
when I am through. Disrobe for me?"
He
leaned back in the chair as Haldir took off his clothes, measuring his body
partly with the eyes of a lover, partly with the glance of a warrior taking a
soldier's measure. Haldir left his leggings until last, and even turned his
back to Legolas to remove them. "I cannot think why you are modest in front of
me," Legolas teased. Haldir said nothing in reply, turning about. His
straining cock swayed as he knelt in front of Legolas again, legs partly spread,
in response to that challenge. He did not expect what happened next.
With
the ease of a leaf loosened from its branch, Legolas knelt between Haldir's
spread legs, and leaned in to kiss Haldir's salt-touched lips. Haldir parted
his mouth for that kiss, tilted his head when Legolas moved to bite his neck,
and held back a groan when Legolas trailed his tongue down over Haldir's
chest. Each touch made Haldir's heart run faster than the Silverlode - as
did his increasing curiosity and fear. Even as he melted, he stayed half-braced,
wondering what Legolas would ask, or do. So he was ready when Legolas' mouth
slid over his cock, and did not spend immediately to feel that smooth tongue's
caress.
It
only lasted for an instant, though. Legolas drew back, looking stricken. "Is
something wrong, my lord?" Haldir asked, lifting up from the floor as he
knelt.
Legolas
said nothing about the honorific, eyes remote. "Not wrong. Far from wrong.
Your body. Haldir - you smell like the Sea." Legolas said no more, but dove
down again, sitting bent double, and devoured him to the root. When Haldir
twitched back against his will from the sensual force of it, Legolas hooked an
arm behind Haldir's kneeling knee and yanked the leg forwards. Haldir,
unseated, tumbled back onto the floor. He allowed himself to be shoved half-back
to the floor, posed with his thighs wide, and devoured anew, astonished that
someone forceful could turn even this act fully to their own will. By the time
Legolas slid a hand along the cleft of his arse, the light threat alone was
enough to send Haldir over the edge, and he choked down a cry as he came.
Legolas
released Haldir's cock when the other elf-man lay still at last. He rested his
sweat-dewed forehead against Haldir's thigh for a moment; suddenly, it seemed
too warm to be wearing a leather surtot. Then he slid his face back up
Haldir's torso, reluctant to draw away from the salt of his sweat. Well
pleased at his own sense of diminished Sea-hunger and at Haldir's undoing, he
asked, "So, what say you now?"
Sitting
beside him, Haldir looked straight into his eyes. "I would have you for my
lord still, Legolas."
Legolas
sat down in the chair once more, mulling over this unguarded reply. Haldir,
uncertain, stayed on the floor. From the lips of one who offered both service
and release, Haldir's earlier plea was almost irresistible. Almost.
"My
answer is the same. I will not take up the lordship of Lothlorien. There are
other deeds I will do." Clear-eyed, he looked down. "What shall you do when
Lorien fades?"
In
disappointment, Haldir retained his dignity. "I too shall go over Sea."
Legolas sighed. "As will most of the Elves of Lothlorien, whether Celeborn stays or no. It will be more a troop than a realm by the time Galadriel's ship sails." Legolas leaned back in the chair with a sharp and slanted smile. "Perhaps I might persuade you to bide in Ithilien a time." He traced the toe of one booted foot up Haldir's thigh, enjoying the dawning look on his face. "I did not say I would not be your lord, Haldir."
Story Notes
Yes, I've depicted Haldir as being alive at the end of Return of the King. And why not? Haldir did not die in the LOTR books. This story is based on book canon; in book canon, Haldir might have survived the War of the Ring, and was a likely candidate to come to Minas Tirith at Midsummer as one of the riders attending Arwen, Galadriel, and Celeborn. This story takes place in Minas Tirith on the third night after Arwen's wedding.
Please do not repost or reproduce this story without permission. First posted June 14, 2003.
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