Sindarin refresher course (most other Sindar is translated in square brackets after the line): gwador is brother (not blood-related). firiath is mortal. linnellon is a compound word I made up, meaning singer (male) or more precisely "singing male Elf". Niben mellyn-nin is (hopefully) my small friends. I imagine it is a proper way to greet periannath. ;) Any remaining botched Sindar is my fault.
Text in // // is italicised.

To Legolas, the mellyrn trees were like mighty sentries standing guard in the dark forests around them, the silver of Celebrant and Nimrodel echoed in their bark. He tensed briefly, then sprang upward, easily catching a branch high above his head. The bark under his hands was much smoother than that of the great trees of Mirkwood, and he could almost feel the life thrumming through the silver-shadowed wood. Swinging back, he prepared to move to another limb.

"Daro!" a commanding voice suddenly said, the source somewhere in the soft grey shadows of the woodwork. Legolas's hold nearly slipped, and he swiftly dropped back down to the ground, pressing against the bole of the tree.

"Stand still!" he whispered to the others. "Do not move or speak!"

There was a sound of soft laughter, and then another clear voice spoke.

"Did we frighten you, gwador? We have heard you clear across the Nimrodel, and knew you to be of the Northern Eldar. And then you sang, as prettily as a maiden. As for those you travel with, they breathe so loudly they can be shot in the deepest of night."

"I cannot well ask them not to breathe, nor will I apologize on behalf of their ancestry," Legolas retorted, "Firiath have not the skill to walk without sound."

"Such wit," the voice laughed, "climb up, so that we may see you, and bring with you the little one who carries so great a burden. The others shall wait at the foot of the tree. We have no wish to be accosted by so many mortals. Tell them they will keep watch while we weigh our choices as to what we will do with you."

"Who are they, and what do they say?" Merry asked.

"They're Elves. Can't you hear their voices?" Sam said, his eyes gazing up at the branchwork.

"Yes, they are Elves," Legolas confirmed, "They say that you breathe so loud that they could shoot you in the dark."

Sam quickly clapped his hand over his mouth, trying to hold his breath for as long as possible. He started as a rope ladder was dropped, the light material uncurling soundlessly and swaying for the briefest instant before stilling.

"They have known of our presence for a long while," Legolas continued, "ever since they heard my voice across the Nimrodel and knew me to be of their Northern kin. They also heard my song, and did not hinder our passing. They wish to speak to Frodo, for it seems they have some tidings of our journey. I will climb up with him. They ask the rest of you to remain on the ground and keep watch, until they have reached a decision as to what they will do."

The silvery rope ladder was spun and knotted from Elven rope, silken to the touch but strong as steel. Moving swiftly, Legolas climbed up, then set his palms flat on the silvery boards and heaved himself up onto the talan.

The dim light was more than adequate for his eyes, and he could well make out three Elves, all sitting cross-legged on the floor, their grey cloaks drawn around them to shield them from both the cold and from prying eyes. All were dressed in the same simple garb, and they were alike enough in face for Legolas to conclude they were brothers.

"Your face is almost as pretty as your voice, gwador," the Elf on the far right noted, shooting Legolas a sly look. "Come, sit by me and tell us more."

Legolas opened his mouth to give a stinging retort, then thought better of it and sank down to sit at a respectable distance from the still-smiling Elf. All of the three were blonde, as was to be expected of Elves of the Golden Wood, and their long hair was arrayed in identical topknots, the tail braided neatly.

"Does the linnellon have a name, perchance?"

"Legolas is the name given to me," Legolas bristled, annoyed at the name that had already been bestowed upon him.

The Elf on the far right, who until now had been silent, cocked his head to the side, looking Legolas up and down before speaking.

"Tis a name well suited for such a youngling. Frail and easily swayed, just like a young leaf."

Legolas swallowed his angry words, thinking he should not be the one to squander their chances by mouthing off to elder Elves. Suddenly, Frodo's small hands appeared on the head of the ladder, followed by his tousled head. He climbed up, followed closely by Sam, and the two Hobbits stood silent and awkward in front of the Eldar. The middlemost stood up, as did Legolas and the two others.

"Mae govannen, niben mellyn-nin. Elen síla lumenn' omentielvo," the tallest Elf said, bowing his head.

"Elen síla lumenn' omentielvo," Frodo repeated, his speech slower and more hesitant. Sam inched closer to Frodo, but remained silent.

"Welcome!" the Elf said, in Westron this time, his words patiently chosen, "We do not often use any language but our own, as we do not willingly meet with other folk. A few of us wander to the other lands for news and to scout, and they speak the other tongues. I, Haldir, am one of them. Rumil and Orophin, my brothers, speak but very little of your language."

Legolas noted that neither Rumil nor Orophin hid their cool amusement at the appearance of the Hobbits very well. They seemed to stretch, drawing on their full height, enhancing the contrast between the tall, slender Elves and the short Hobbits even more. Yet he shouldn't rebuke them, Legolas thought, for he himself often did the same when in the presence of mortals.

"Elrond's messengers, heading for the Dimrill Stair, brought tidings of your coming," Haldir went on, then smiled at Frodo. "We have not heard of periannath, halflings -- or Hobbits -- for many long years. Indeed, we were not even certain that you dwelled here still!" He paused. "You do not look to be evil. And you travel with an Elf of our kindred, and so we are willing to grant Elrond's wish for us to befriend you. Have care - it is not our custom to lead strangers freely through our lands. You must stay here tonight, however. How many are you?"

Legolas stepped around to stand next to Frodo and faced Haldir. "There are eight," he said, "I, four Hobbits, and two men. One of them is Aragorn, an Elf-friend of the Westernesse folk."

This seemed to pacify Haldir, who confirmed that Aragorn had the favour of the Lady, yet as Legolas revealed that the eighth member of their fellowship was a Dwarf, he balked. "I cannot allow him to pass," he protested.

Frodo chose that moment to speak.

"He is one of Dain's folk, trusty and friendly to Elrond. The lord of Rivendell chose him to be a member of this fellowship, and he has proven to be brave and faithful."

"I care not to have a Dwarf stomping around!" Orophin protested. "Indeed, which is now the greater threat, Orcs or Dwarves?"

"I agree with Orophin," Rumil said, "for the folk of Aulë are the bane of Elves, and I will not lead one of that kin. What folly has led you to wander with him, young one?"

"Legolas, is it indeed as the halfling says, that the Naugol is to be trusted?" Haldir asked, "Strange it seems to me that you should abide his company without protest."

"He has proven himself loyal," Legolas said simply, ignoring Rumil's and Orophin's questions. "And though I hold some reservations, I am willing to speak in his favour."

"Very well," Haldir said, turning to the Hobbits, "We agree to do this, even though it is not to our liking. If Aragorn and Legolas will speak for him and guard him, he shall pass. However, he must go blindfolded through Laurelindorinan."

He stopped for a second, seeming to listen.

"We must debate no longer," he continued, "and your folk must not remain on the ground. A great troop of Orcs has been spotted marching toward Moria, many days ago. Peril cannot be far away if you indeed have come from Moria, and so you must go on early tomorrow. The four Hobbits shall stay here with us, for we do not fear them. The others, the Firiath and the Dwarf, will take refuge on the talan in the next tree. You shall answer for them, Legolas. Call us if anything is amiss - and have an eye on the Naugol!"

Legolas nodded in acquiescence, and climbed down the rope ladder, dropping to the ground four steps before the end of the ladder.

"Merry and Pippin will sleep on this talan," he said, "and Aragorn, Boromir, Gimli and I shall take the talan there, in the next tree. We will continue early in the morning."

Strider gave a curt nod. Instructing Merry and Pippin to gather the blankets, he proceeded to carry the packs off to a thicket of underbrush heaped high with leaves. The leaf-pile served well as a temporary hiding-place for the packs.

Haldir had also climbed down, and held the swaying ladder still as the two Hobbits climbed up laden with their blankets. He caught Legolas's eye and kept the gaze unflinching until Legolas broke away, unnerved by the scrutiny with which Haldir seemed to be mapping his features. Stammering an intention to climb up into the other tree to let the ladder down, he walked away, feeling the weight of Haldir's gaze on his back.

As he climbed the mallorn, he realized he was purposefully taking a difficult route, one that necessitated well-timed leaps. Was he trying to impress Haldir? He would not risk a glance down to see if Haldir was still looking.

Well up on the talan, he shook his head at his own foolishness. Since when had it become important to him to impress wardens? He was the Prince of Mirkwood, well used to his title and to dealing with others of the same stature. And yet now *he* was the one trying to impress.

Letting the ladder down, he climbed down to sit on one of the lower branches. A small smile ghosted over his lips as Gimli climbed up, holding on to the rope more tightly than was strictly necessary. Risking a quick glance to the side, he noted that Haldir had gone. All the better. He did not want to feel the weight of that gaze again.

Legolas found he could not rest easy on the talan. Aragorn, as well as both Gimli and Boromir, had fallen asleep as soon as they lay down, weary as they were after the long trek. The forest was still save for the faint rustling of the leaves in the night breeze, but it seemed not even that could grant him a moment's rest. Sinking back against the bundled-up cloak he used for a makeshift pillow, he closed his eyes, thinking he might force himself into the waking sleep of his kin.

A faint whisper of cloth caught his attention and he opened his eyes. When he lifted his head, he could clearly discern Haldir. The March Warden sat still, his gaze locked on Legolas.

"Are your dreams troubled?" he asked, his voice so low only Elven ears would have heard it. There was a strange tone to the question, and Legolas nodded.

"I cannot rest easy for grief and worry," he confessed.

"'Tis sad to see a face of such beauty marred by melancholy," Haldir said, soundlessly rising from his place and seating himself next to Legolas's supine form. He trailed his fingers over Legolas's forehead, smoothing out the lines of worry that had formed there.

"Rest easy, gwador," he mumbled, "I will watch."

Wrapping the fur-lined cloak closer around him, Legolas silently accepted this strange gesture. Haldir was gazing out into the night, his fingers seeming to move of their own accord, tracing over Legolas's face and drawing the tension away. The feather-light touch was soothing, and soon Legolas fell to dreaming about the fair halls of Rivendell and of his own home in Mirkwood.

He was rudely roused from his dreaming by the tramp of heavy, booted feet and the guttural speech of Orcs. Haldir was nowhere to be seen, and though Legolas strained his ears, he could not hear him either. Silently he crept to the edge of the talan to look down. All he saw was the retreating backs of the Orcs as they headed deeper into the woods, and then a swift flicker of motion near the next tree.

Before he had the chance to try and find out what it was, Haldir appeared next to the tree, and as soon as his palms touched the stem of the tree, the shape disappeared. Turning his head, the warden looked at Legolas, his dark eyes as unreadable as they had been before.

Once more, Legolas was the one to look away.

As morning came, cold and pale, Legolas felt as though he had not rested at all. The sight of the Orcs tramping through the forest, as well as Haldir's strange looks, were gnawing at him. Perils they had faced already, and more were to come - and now one more burden had been laid on his shoulders.

//Would it be right to accept Haldir's unspoken offer?//

When the Hobbits had been roused and all of the packs and gear collected from their foliaceous hiding-place, Haldir announced that he and Rumil would take the task of guiding the Fellowship onward. Haldir's gaze lingered no longer on Legolas than on anyone else, and Legolas found himself strangely nervous despite it.

"Farewell, sweet Nimrodel!" Legolas called as they set out. The image of the silvery stream lingered in his memory, as did the melodic rush of its waters.

The course taken was the one running along the west side of Celebrant, and the company followed it for some time, keeping southward. Legolas noted that orc-prints still marred the earth of the path, and suppressed a shudder at thought of the vile creatures tramping onward into the still forest.

Suddenly, Haldir stopped, stepping into the shadows of the trees by the stream. He motioned for the others to halt, and let forth a low whistle sounding like the call of a bird.

"One of my people is there, across the stream, " he said, "although you may not see him."

Legolas had noted the other Elf as soon as they halted, yet only because of the stray lock of golden hair that had escaped the confines of the hood and which shone against the silver bark of the young trees.

Grasping a coil of silvery rope, Haldir threw the other end to the Elf on the opposite bank. Securing their respective ends, they thus fashioned a path over the swiftly rushing waters of the icy stream. Haldir crossed easily, his steps as effortless as if he had been walking a paved road instead of a slender rope.

//So, now the roles have changed,// Legolas thought - //it is now he who poses for me, and not the opposite.// Yet was that what he wanted?

"This is how we cross," Haldir said, "for in these times of danger bridges cannot be built. The waters of Celebrant run both swift and cold here, and we will not set foot in it unless we must."

Legolas's train of thought was cut short as he realized Haldir wished for some confirmation on his part.

"I can walk this path, " he said, "but the others have not this skill. Is it their lot to swim?"

"Oh no," Haldir said, smiling, "we have two more ropes. One we will fasten at waist- height and the other at the height of the shoulder. If they hold to these, the Firiath will be able to cross."

Setting one foot onto the rope, Legolas pressed down lightly to gauge the tautness of the rope, then lifted his other foot as well and crossed the makeshift bridge easily.

He missed the knowing smile Rumil gave his brother.

When all of the company had crossed the makeshift bridge, Rumil remaining on the other side and coiling up the ropes before returning to his post, Haldir explained that they now had entered the Naith of Lorien.

"We allow no strangers to spy here, and few are even permitted to tread these grounds. The others may walk freely for a while, at least until we come closer to our dwellings in Egladil, the Angle, but I must, as we agreed, bind they eyes of Gimli the Dwarf."

As was to be expected, Gimli did not take this singling out kindly. Hand on the hilt of his axe, he loudly protested:

"I had no say in this matter, and I shall most certainly not walk blindfold like a beggar. My folk have never allied with the Enemy, and I am no spy! We have never done harm to the Elves, and I am no more likely to betray you than Legolas or any other member of the Fellowship."

"I do not doubt that." His voice calm, Haldir explained: "This is our law. I am not a master of it, and I have not the right to set it aside as I see fit. I have already done much in letting you cross Celebrant."

Gimli would have none of it, however, and kept his grip on the haft of his axe.

"I will walk free or I will go back and seek my own land, where I am known to be true of word, though I should perish alone in the wilderness."

"You cannot turn back," Haldir said, his voice suddenly stern. "Now, as you have come thus far, you must be brought before the Lord and the Lady. They shall judge you, and it is their choice to hold you or to give you leave, as they will. You cannot cross the rivers again, and behind you there are now secret sentinels that you cannot pass. You would be slain before you saw them."

Gimli drew his axe from his belt, yet no sooner had the blade been bared than Haldir and his companion had drawn their bows. Neither party seemed to be willing to step down.

"A plague on Dwarves and their stiff necks!" Legolas said, at once exasperated with both Gimli's stubborn pride and Haldir's confidence in his authority. Gimli had his axe ready to strike with a second's warning, and Haldir had his bow at full draw, the strong fingers merely awaiting the moment to let the string go.

"If I am still to lead this Company, you must do as I bid," Aragorn said, interfering in the silent warring of wills. "It is hard upon the Dwarf to be thus singled out. We will all go blindfolded, even Legolas. That will be best, though it will make the journey slow and dull."

Gimli laughed suddenly, a rumbling laughter, and he lowered his axe but did not return it to his belt. Haldir relaxed a fraction, shortening the draw somewhat but keeping the arrow nocked.

"Will you laugh, then, Master Elf?" Gimli said, "Will it amuse you to see the troop of fools we shall be, led on a string like so many blind beggars guided by a single dog?" He paused. "I will be content, however, if only Legolas shares my blindness."

"I am an Elf and a kinsman here," Legolas protested in turn, anger flaring.

"Now let us cry: a plague on the stiff necks of Elves!" Aragorn sighed. "But the Company shall all fare alike. Haldir, bind our eyes."

"I shall claim full amends for every fall and stubbed toe, if you do not lead us well," said Gimli as they bound his eyes.

Haldir gently tied a wide strip of soft, Elven-woven fabric over Legolas's eyes, watching to see he didn't snag any of the silky hair in the knot. He pressed close, as close as he could get without arousing the suspicion of his fellow Guard, his fingers twining in Legolas's silken hair for the briefest instant.

"I must do this," he breathed, "my fair one, or else your companions would think me to favour you."

"Do you?" Legolas asked, his voice soft with laughter.

"What do you think?" Haldir retorted, letting go.

With his eyes blindfolded, Legolas found his other senses had sharpened, predictably, and that his lack of vision still let him form an image of his surroundings. The sounds, scents and textures wove a more complete image than even his Elven eyes could have. He could hear the soft rustle of the leaves and moss as the Hobbits settled down to sleep. Boromir stomped around for a moment, the heavy footfalls belying his warrior's upbringing, then settled to talk shortly with Gimli. Aragorn, Estel-raised-by-Elves, was far more silent.

As Legolas leaned back against the tree he knew to be behind him, a strong arm thwarted his movement. Whisper of Elven-cloak, and then warm breath against his ear in a teasing caress.

"Walk with me, gwador."

Legolas put his hand out to the side, feeling the familiar curve of his bow under his palm. Strong fingers wrapped around his wrist, stilling the motion.

"There is no need for you to bear arms at this time," Haldir noted. "You will not need it, unless you know how to shoot blindfolded."

Ignoring the jab, Legolas turned, taking the arm proffered. The falling dusk deepened the shade behind his eyelids to indigo.

As they walked in silence for a moment, their soft footfalls barely heard, the proprietary hold Haldir had on Legolas's arm shifted, loosened, only to be replaced by a steady grip around his waist.

"Haldir, where are you leading me?" Legolas ventured. "It serves little purpose to lead me around dells I cannot see."

"Sight is not the only sense, gwador", Haldir whispered, his voice so close, "ai, there is smell, hearing, taste... and touch," he drawled, voice soft.

Legolas halted mid-step, shaken, as he weighed the possibilities hid in Haldir's cryptic comment. Was this an invitation? And yes, it would be a welcome one - a full month of travel through the wilderness in the company of brutish Men and Dwarves, a wizened Istari and childlike Hobbits had left him longing for the pleasures only another Eldar could grant. Meanwhile, Haldir stepped around to stand in front of Legolas, his other arm sliding around Legolas's waist, the fingers lacing at the small of the back. A slight tug brought Legolas closer. The fingers unlaced, the hands let go, and there was a second in which Legolas had the choice to leave or stay. He did not move.

A soft chuckle from Haldir, the sound free of rebuke or mockery. Almost a laugh of relief.

Legolas did not start at the feel of Haldir's warm hands cupping his face, nor at the sensation of a soft mouth on his. His lips parted - of their own volition, it seemed - welcoming the invasion. Haldir's hold on his face forced some distance between them, and Legolas felt he was being kissed far too formally, like an Elf maiden receiving a farewell kiss in front of her sire. He reached up, taking hold of Haldir's wrists and moving the hands away. Haldir's hair was cool and smooth under his hands, and he twined his fingers into it, pulling the other Elf closer.

"Keep the blindfold, gwador," Haldir said softly, "it should not hinder you."

"You have a strange sense of rules and law, tirn-nin," Legolas smiled, leaning in for another kiss. "But I will do as you say."

He could feel Haldir's mouth curve to a smile against his lips.

A callused fingertip traced the shell of his ear, then continued down along the curve of his jaw, down the line of his neck and to the clasp of the cloak. Relaxing in the blindness, Legolas marvelled at how intimate the simple gesture felt. Undoing the silver clasp, Haldir let the cloak fall to the floor of the clearing. Nimble fingers undid the buckle of the narrow belt wound around the slim waist, coiling the belt up and dropping it onto the rumpled cloak. The wristlets were removed, slowly, Haldir's fingertips tracing the lines of the strong wrist. The outer tunic followed, the soft green fabric sliding down long strong arms to join the cloak on the forest floor.

Shimmer of moonlight in the fabric of the thin silk undershirt, and Haldir set his palms against the wide chest, letting the heat seep through. Nipples hardening in response, the faintest echo of a gasp from Legolas as Haldir let his nails trace the hardened peaks.

"Do you trust me?" Haldir asked, kneeling down to pull off the soft boots Legolas wore.

"Yes," Legolas whispered as he elegantly stepped out of the boots, setting graceful feet down on the leaves without a sound.

"Do you have reason to?" Haldir asked.

A smile curved the full lips of the younger Elf. "Yes, Haldir, I have reason to."

Hands against his calves, then, as Haldir gripped the long legs. Long fingers travelling up the muscled thighs, over the ticklish valley between hip and pelvis. Fingers hooking into the waistband of the leggings, touching the skin carefully as if touch could ruin the silky span. The lacing of the breeches proved no obstacle, and Legolas drew a deep, shuddering breath as his erection sprang free of its confinement, tenting the soft tunic.

Stepping out of the soft garment, Legolas held out his hands, searching for Haldir. A smile turned the edges of the full mouth up as the March warden laced his fingers with Legolas's, rising to kiss him.

"Malthen-nith." [Golden youth]

The word passing in the minuscule space between their lips, a soft breath released and caught. Haldir's voice was soft like smoke.

"Tirn-nin," [My watcher] Legolas whispered in turn, biting gently at Haldir's lower lip.

Hips rocking into hips, the twin hardnesses meeting, and three steps back led them to the soft, canopied bed formed by a mellyrn sapling and the moss beneath. Wrapping his arms around Legolas's narrow waist, Haldir kneeled down, urging Legolas down with him. Legolas arched into Haldir's embrace, wantonly rubbing up against the elder Elf in a bid to increase the friction of the silk against his straining erection.

The rest of the movement was more a tumble than what would have been the customary way of Eldar.

Legolas fell back, his movement seeming as light as air. Haldir looked down on him, at the lithe form sprawled out on the dark ground. Seating himself between Legolas's spread legs, Haldir opened the catches on the light shirt, pressing kisses to the exposed skin, delighting in the shivers he caused.

As Legolas lay naked in front of him, the pale skin shimmering with its own contained light, Haldir found his breath catching in his throat. His hands traced patterns on the soft skin, scraping lightly with his nails, loving the sight and sound of the younger Elf writhing under him utterly without shame. Shrugging out of his own tunic and shirt and kicking his boots off, Haldir climbed to straddle the still-blindfolded Legolas. He grasped Legolas's weeping cock gently, gauging the reaction by a few deft strokes.

"Avo baul-enni!" Legolas whispered, "Im-boe na-tired melethron-nin..." [Stop tormenting me! I need to see my lover...]

"An daf-nin, lhend-nin... an daf-nin," [With my permission, my sweet... with my permission.] Haldir whispered into Legolas's ear, nipping at the point before moving back to wriggle out of his leggings.

Freed from all restrictive clothing, he leaned in, pressing butterfly kisses to Legolas's face and neck, all while his fingers mapped out the smooth skin. The younger Elf's arms came up, wrapping around him, pressing him close, and both men groaned as their erections slid against each other, slick underside to slick underside. Haldir's knees were sinking into the soft moss, the filaments tickling his thighs.

Haldir reached down into the narrow space between their bodies, his fingers curling into the cleft between Legolas's buttocks. As his fingertips brushed the puckered opening, there was a pleased little sound from Legolas.

"Ai, im-boe le-nedh-enni..." [I need you inside me...]

"Pan ned annan." [All in time.] Haldir said, pleased that he had found a spot to exploit. He continued moving his fingers, pressing down to see how Legolas reacted. Every little sound was a personal victory, and the whimper Legolas made when Haldir bit at the soft lobe of his ear was the sweetest of witnesses to the ease with which Haldir was undoing the impetuous young Elf.

Legolas's hands were not idle, and Haldir smiled as the strong fingers laced behind his head to pull him down into a deep kiss. A touch of teeth in the kiss, and a promise of far less restraint.

"Make good your promise to show me that there are other senses than sight, Haldir," Legolas said between kisses.

Bending close, Haldir took one peaked nipple into his mouth, sucking gently, then withdrew. A light gust of breath over the slickened skin, culling forth a soft sigh from Legolas.

There was a faded scar running along Legolas's collarbone, and Haldir took his time tracing and retracing it, delighting in the silken feel of the skin. As he pressed a kiss to a spot just under Legolas's ear, there was no mistaking the buck of Legolas's hips.

"Have I found a weak spot, gwador?" Haldir smiled.

"No part of me is weak," Legolas protested, his thumbs tracing over Haldir's cheekbones. As his fingers curled up to rest under Haldir's jaw, the Lorien Elf found he was the one fighting to breathe evenly. So cunning, those fingers, mapping out by tactile clues instead of visual ones.

As much as Haldir would have wished to continue his slow exploration of the young prince's weaknesses, his present state of arousal made itself painfully evident as Legolas arched upward.

"Please..." Haldir said, voice ragged, "stop for but a moment."

Tearing himself away from Legolas's hold, Haldir groped for the small phial of bowstring wax he carried in his belt. Closing his hand around the cold glass, he waited until his body heat warmed it. Legolas had laid his hands to rest on Haldir's waist, as if to seek confirmation that the other Elf was still there.

Quickly warming the wax between his palms, coating his fingers and shaft with the silky mass, Haldir lifted Legolas's left leg to lay it on his shoulder. Loosely grasping Legolas's cock, he let his fingers slide slowly down the length of it, then trailed further down. As the first joint of Haldir's finger passed the ring of muscle, Legolas tensed up briefly.

"Relax," Haldir crooned as another finger joined the first, and was promptly rewarded with a moan from Legolas. The younger Elf had dug his fingers into the soft ground, and as Haldir's questing fingers found the slight ridge deep inside him, Legolas jerked his head back, the silvery hair billowing against the dark green moss.

Sliding his hand up Legolas's thigh, holding the long leg in place, Haldir placed the already weeping head of his cock against the delicately puckered opening. A slow push, feeling the sphincter yield. Breathless moan from Legolas as Haldir leaned in, levelling his hips to strike deeper. Legolas's hands fisted in Haldir's hair to pull him close.

Hilted in Legolas's tight body, Haldir claimed Legolas's mouth in a rough kiss, stealing the breath from the younger Elf. Drawing back, he repeated the slow slide into the silken heat, and Legolas arched under him, spreading his legs further. The grip of his hands in Haldir's long hair was almost getting to be painful.

Haldir found that he had closed his eyes, and wondered in some still part of his mind if this was how Legolas felt. Every sensation seemed amplified. The silk of the blindfold was cool against his skin as he leaned in to kiss Legolas again, and once more he found Legolas was trying to take control.

He increased the pace, still careful not to rush. This was a sensation too sweet to be wasted in the same manner as a quick tryst.

Letting go of Legolas's leg, Haldir slid his hands under Legolas's hips, his thumbs folding around the crest of the hipbones. With the next deep thrust, Legolas bent his head back, his mouth forming an o around the moan.

Harder thrusts now, faster, as Haldir found he could not maintain the slow pace he wished. The feeling was too intoxicating, the heat and friction burning at his nerve endings like wildfire. Strands of his hair were plastered against his forehead, and his hold on Legolas's skin was nearly slipping.

Legolas was already tossing his head, biting his lower lip to keep his moans down. The blindfold was slipping, riding upward, but Haldir saw that Legolas's eyes were shut tightly. Legolas was countering the thrusts, his hand wrapped around his own cock, stroking in time.

As Haldir thrust deep again, he felt the telltale shiver along his spine, and he took Legolas's sweat-sheened face into his hands, bringing their mouths together in a soul- searing kiss. Legolas snaked his arms around Haldir's back in a hold that was not so much intimate as it seemed desperate.

One last buck of his hips, and as Legolas screamed his orgasm into Haldir's mouth, he felt himself plummeting as well. Stars behind his closed eyelids, a blinding white vortex. Sweet thrill after sweet thrill, and the warm rush of Legolas's release between their interlocked bodies. He tasted blood in his mouth, not sure if it was his or Legolas's. Legolas was writhing, whimpering softly, his nails still dug into Haldir's back.

Breaking the kiss, Haldir moved to lie on his side, folding Legolas into a loose embrace. Their breathing fell into the same pace, and neither spoke.

As the light dapple of sweat on their skin dried, Legolas reached for the blindfold still covering his eyes, only to have his hand slapped away.

"No, gwador. I do not want them to think I favour you."

"You do not favour me?" Legolas asked, laughter in his voice, curling into Haldir's embrace.

"No." Haldir's reply was flat, and he shifted, disengaging the hold and rising. Legolas lay still for a moment, breathing in the cold night air, then twitched as he felt cloth touch his stomach.

"Thank you," he managed after realizing Haldir was cleaning him off.

Haldir kept silent, and after finishing his duty, Legolas could hear him dress himself, the movements curt and precise. Legolas sat up, feeling for his own discarded clothing. Haldir helped him up, handing him his clothes and helping fasten the occasional buckle that proved too intricate for the blindfolded Legolas.

The walk back to the makeshift camp was made in silence, Haldir's arm hooked into Legolas's in an oddly chaste grip.

"Take your rest, gwador," was all Haldir said before walking off.

An oddly soiled feeling came over Legolas as he lay back, resting his back against the wide bole of the tree. It had been nothing but pleasurable, this comfort of a brother in arms, but Haldir's chill surprised Legolas.

//Or perhaps it surprises you to be the receiver of such coldness?//

Dreams eluded him once more.

In the morning they continued, walking without haste, and though Legolas could hear Haldir's steps he did not hear the other Elf speak. At noon they halted, as a host of Elves had crossed their path. Legolas heard Haldir and his kinsman confer with the other Elves, and learned that the Orcs had been waylaid and most of them slain, with what few remained pursued by guards. A strange creature had been spotted as well, running on both hands and feet. The guards had not shot it as they did not know if it was hostile or friendly, and it had run along Celebrant, headed southward.

"They bring me a message from the Lord and Lady of the Galadhrim. You are all to walk free, even the Dwarf Gimli. It seems that the Lady knows who and what is each member of your Company. New messages have come from Rivendell perhaps," Haldir said.

"Your pardon!" Haldir said to Gimli. "Look on us now with friendly eyes! Look and be glad, for you are the first Dwarf to behold the trees of the Naith of Lorien since Durin's Day!"

The other Elf untied Legolas's blindfold, and even though Legolas had realized from the whispering of the wind that there were great trees nearby, the sight stunned him.

On a great mound two circles of trees grew like a double crown: the outer trees had bark of snowy white, and were leafless but no less beautiful for it; the inner were high mellyrn, still bearing leaves of pale gold. High among the branches of a towering tree that stood in the centre of all a white talan could be discerned.

At the feet of the trees, and all over the green hillsides the grass was studded with star- shaped flowers, small and golden. Among them were other flowers of white and palest green. The sun, lending its golden light over all and casting long green shadows under the trees, shone from a blue sky.

"Behold! You are come to Cerin Amroth," Haldir said. "This is the heart of the ancient realm as it was long ago, and here is the mound of Amroth, where in happier days his high house was built. Here ever bloom the winter flowers in the unfading grass: the yellow elanor, and the pale niphredil. Here we will stay awhile, and come to the city of the Galadhrim at dusk."

Closing his eyes again, Legolas lay down in the grass, listening to the wind and the whisper of all living things. The soft grass under his palms rekindled a quick flash of memory, yet it faded quickly as the light and magic of Lothlórien wove its spell.

He could hear Haldir speak to Frodo, and the soft tone of Haldir's voice tore at him. Haldir had not spoken to him since the night before, neither to guide nor to comfort.

After some time, Haldir and Frodo returned, and the Fellowship continued their travels through the woods. Dusk fell in velvet tones of grey, and the Elves marching with them uncovered their silver lamps. Haldir walked silent, the silvery light of the lamps lending his pale-gold hair a shimmer like starlight.

//Was this how he looked in moonlight? Was his face as still then?//

As they passed out of the forest and saw the darkened canopy of the early night sky, a wide space devoid of trees stood before them. It ran in a wide circle, bending away out of sight on either side. A deep fosse could be glimpsed, fading away into shadow, but the grass on its brink had no shadow, as though the sunlight was still lingering there.

On the further side a green wall rose high around an equally verdant hill. The slope was densely set with mellyrn trees, all of them higher than any yet seen by the travellers. The many-tiered branches were set with countless lights gleaming in green, gold, and pale silver.

Haldir turned to face the Fellowship, and there was a proud smile on his face.

"Welcome to Caras Galadhon!" he said. "Here is the city of the Galadhrim where the Lord Celeborn and Galadriel the Lady of Lorien dwell. We cannot enter here, for the gates do not look northward. We must go round to the southern side, and the way is not short, for the city is great."

A road paved with smooth white stone ran along the outer brink of the fosse, and they walked along this path, seeing the city rise higher and higher on their left. The darkness grew more dense, and at the same time, more and more lights lit up, lending the hill a gleam like flames of starlight. At last they came to a bridge, and as they crossed it, the great gates came before them. They faced southwest, placed as they were in the juncture of the end of the great wall. Legolas drew a deep breath at the sight of the lamp-bedecked gates that seemed to stretch as high as the mellyrn trees.

Haldir knocked on the great gates and spoke, and the gates opened soundlessly, and as the wanderers stepped inside, Legolas absent-mindedly noted there were no guards.

They were in a deep lane between the ends of the wall, and passing quickly through it they entered the City of the Trees. Legolas could hear singing, and he longed to join the chorus, yet decided against it. Who knew if his voice would betray his heart?

As they came up to the high places, a large lawn stretched out before them, and on this lawn was a large fountain lit by silver lamps. The fountain fell into a silver basin, which in turn let a white stream spill forth. The mightiest tree stood on the southern side of the wide lawn , its lowest branches so wide they seemed like clouds of leaves. A broad silver-white ladder stood beside it. Three Elves, dressed in grey mail and white cloaks, stood guard, tall and proud.

"Here dwell Celeborn and Galadriel," Haldir said. "It is their wish that you should ascend and speak with them."

One of the Elf-wardens then blew a clear note on a small horn, and it was answered three times from far above.

"I will go first," Haldir went on. "Let Frodo come next and with him Legolas. The others may follow as they wish. It is a long climb for those that are not accustomed to such stairs, but you may rest upon the way."

Legolas searched in vain for some change in Haldir's tone of voice, but found none, and Haldir was looking at everything except him.

As they climbed, passing telain interwoven with the tree and the ladder, Legolas tried to push any thoughts of Haldir and the past night out of his mind, wishing he could forget.

High above the ground they stepped onto a large talan, so wide it easily accommodated a house as large as one of the halls of Men. Haldir entered first, and Frodo followed him. Legolas walked behind the two, his tread uncertain.

The hall that opened in front of him was oval, wrapping around the bole of the mallorn. Soft light illuminated the room, reflecting off the golden ceiling. Legolas quickly glanced around, noting the many Elves already seated there. Celeborn and Galadriel sat beneath the bole of the tree, and as Haldir, Frodo, and Legolas approached, they stood up to greet them.

At the sight of the Elven Lord and Lady, Legolas bowed his head, setting his right hand over his heart. He had heard many legends and songs of the Noldorin Lady of the Wood, and yet he found now that they lacked in praise. Both Celeborn and Galadriel were clad in white, the garments shimmering as the pair stood up to greet the guests. Their faces were grave, yet not stern, and their eyes like cloudless skies at night.

Haldir led Frodo before them, and Celeborn greeted him warmly. The Lady sat silent, merely looking at Frodo. Celeborn then turned to Legolas, who lifted his head to properly receive the greeting.

"Welcome son of Thranduil! Too seldom do my kindred journey hither from the North."

As the rest of the Fellowship filed into the hall, Celeborn duly greeted them. When all were seated in front of the Lord and Lady, Celeborn looked at them again, speaking with what seemed like hesitation.

"Here there are eight," he said. "Nine were to set out: so said the messages. But maybe there has been some change of counsel that we have not heard. Elrond is far away, and darkness gathers between us, and all this year the shadows have grown longer."

"Nay, there was no change of counsel," Galadriel said, speaking for the first time. To Legolas, her voice seemed like song, low and musical. "Mithrandir set out with the Fellowship, but he did not pass the borders of this land. I ask you to tell me where he is, for I much desire to speak with him again. Yet I cannot see him from afar, unless he comes within the fences of Lothlórien: a grey mist is around him, and the ways of his feet and of his mind are hidden from me."

"Alas!" Aragorn said. "Gandalf the Grey fell into shadow. He remained in Moria and did not escape."

At these words all the Elves in the hall cried aloud in grief and amazement.

"These are evil tidings," Celeborn said, "the most evil that have been spoken here in long years full of grievous deeds." He turned to Haldir.

"Why has nothing of this been told to me before?"

"We have not spoken to Haldir of our deeds or our purpose," Legolas said. "At first we were weary and danger was too close behind; and afterwards we almost forgot our grief for a time, as we walked in gladness on the fair paths of Lorien."

The Lady Galadriel knew of his conflicted mind, that he did not doubt. It could not be hidden by gilded words.

//Laiqualassë, look to yourself for blame,// the soft voice of the Lady said inside his head. //Sometimes even our mirror image seems foreign, and in our blindness we do not recognize it.//

//What is too alike should not be paired, for nothing good can come of it.//

Legolas broke the eye contact, looking sideways at Haldir. The March warden met his gaze levelly, not a flicker of emotion on the strong features.

//Nothing good can come of it.//

[To be continued in Triskelion: Cordial.]



Notes: Some dialogue and narrative is directly lifted from the books, some is merely rewritten. If it looks like Tolkien, it likely is, and I acknowledge this. If he said it better, why not quote him? The passages are not marked, but you can cross-reference this story with the books if you have nothing better to do. ;)