Through the dusk, I saw them retreating. Their black forms were bent over and could scarcely be told apart from the masses lying about on the ground. The horses of the Rohanian riders pawed over them and crushed them into the ground.
The day had been long. If Gandalf hadn't come with reinforcements, I don't doubt I would have been dead by now. But come, he had. And I was very much alive, though sore. There was a long gash on my right arm where it had taken a blow from an enemy's sword. My muscles ached, the pain traveling from my calves, through my thighs, up into my back, and ending in a dense ball at the very center of my skull. Now it was time to see to the wounded and dying.
Their cries and moaning rose into the air all around and I pitied them. My eyes followed the line of the wall, lingering on the part where it had been breached. We'd held. I could scarce believe we held the fortress!
It was then that I realized suddenly that I didn't know who had survived the battle and who had not. Putting my hands to my head, my thoughts raced. Haldir! He had arrived with Elven soldiers to come to our assistance in the rain. Oh noble creature!
"Legolas!" I called into the air. At first, nothing came out save a croaking semblance to my voice. I cleared my throat and called again, and this time his name rang up above the masses of bodies lying about the ground.
"Aragorn! Aragorn!" I closed my eyes tightly and smiled with relief. So, he had come out all right.
I prepared my throat to cry out for the son of Gloin, but his voice reached me first. "Aragorn! Dammit Strider, speak ta me!"
"Gimli, Son of Gloin! When will you learn some manners?!" I shouted back with a laugh. I could hear him laughing too, a low rumbling in the murky darkness.
I breathed in deeply of the air and thought about the person who first came to my mind. It surprised even myself! Had I been that grateful to him for what he'd done that I'd forget about the ones I'd spent my entire quest with from the very beginning?
His image filled my mind, and I felt suddenly strange. Ashamed. I recalled the first time I'd seen him, years ago...
Lothlorien's light shone down and I was trying to help my Elven brothers, sons of Lord Elrond of Rivendell, find their way to the palace there. It was a joke. They insisted that their memories were not too keen of the place, and that they had forgotten the way over the many years it had been since they'd last had trod that forest. So they decided that we should split up and try to discover the right trail that would lead us to the place. I was told that if I found it, I was to call them and we would converge together. The twins knew that I was a far better hunter than they. I had the makings of a great Ranger. Yet... This "trail" eluded me. I searched high and low, not knowing at all that the whole time I was being watched; being hunted myself.
Finally in the traces of moss, I fancied I had found the path of Elven footsteps. And just as I stood to call out to my brothers... There he was.
There was an arrow pointed at my throat from inches away. My jaw dropped and my eyes followed the tip of the weapon up to the hand that held it in its string, and then beyond that to the surreal yet handsome face at the end. He was magnificent, standing stone-still as a statue... As if he had always stood there. I had not heard footsteps nor even a subtle sound of breath or the ruffle of movement. All had been perfectly silent.
I thought him exquisite, standing there so calm and measured, the sunlight falling in white beams upon him and all around. He spoke. It was a form of Elvish but I did not understand, so he spoke again to me in Sindarin. I knew Sindarin, but I was occupied by something else: his voice. It was so soft and smooth, just like the graceful sound of the leaves as they brush against each other on a light refreshing summer breeze. If it could be visualized, it must look like the light dancing off of a beautiful mountain brook. I was caught completely off guard. It... it was enthralling... I could not help myself, I wanted to reach out and touch that ivory hair...
But I held myself back. He led us to Lothlorien for my brothers had revealed themselves then, laughing at their little joke with which the Elven archer was not pleased. I did not see any more of him until late the night of the feast thrown in honor of our visit. There, I caught a glimpse of him again as he was stepping out of the room. Our eyes locked for what seemed like an eternal moment, and it was his eyes that fell. I watched him until his pale head was out of sight.
"So you have met Haldir of Lorien, High Guardian of this place." Said the Lady Galadriel with a laugh.
"Yes...He tried to kill me." So, he was the guardian of Lothlorien? That was why he held an arrow at my throat. He seemed to me the greatest hunter I had ever known for he had come upon me and revealed himself in broad daylight. He put my skills to shame. And the way he carried himself! So regal; such grace. He seemed both mysterious and all-knowing at the same time. It made my stomach leap to think about him... I didn't know why. These were strange feelings even for me. Then I realized I had felt the same feelings often enough when I saw or thought of Arwen. This frightened me, and I forced the Elven guardian out of my mind.
Until fate brought us together again. Scarcely had we left Moria and the memory of Gandalf's fall behind us, when my mind leapt forward to Lothlorien...to him. The hobbits lay on the rocks, and even Legolas was consumed with grief at Gandalf's departure from us. But I? I could think of nothing else beside his pale hair and exquisite pointed face. And so I forced them up with the promise of danger at nightfall. And we dashed into the welcome sanctuary of that forest. I before all the others, because I could not wait to see him...
And there he was! Just as I had seen him last. But he was not alone. Many Elves were at his side this time and he did not even have his bow and arrow drawn. Somehow, this disappointed me... But then he spoke, his voice passive and soft like cloth rubbing together...
He did not want to let us pass. They held us there at the edge of the wood for hours, and it was late into night when I found he'd sent a scout up to the Lady Galadriel, asking what should they do with us? She'd sent back word to let him decide at his own discretion whether he should allow us passage. So we were gathered together before him, and he paced back and forth deep in thought before barraging us with a series of questions. I answered for us all, and kindly even though I knew the others were tired, irritated and irate at him. The questioning went on and off throughout the evening, and he couldn't seem to decide. I alone knew the weight of the decision placed upon his shoulders: should he let us pass, we could cause great potential harm. It would be his fault if that occurred. Yet, if he did not let us pass, something horrible could happen to our party... and it seemed like we were indeed on an important quest. It would be his fault too, if our fate were demise at the hands of enemies he could have prevented. My heart went out to him.
I saw the others becoming more irritated by the moment. The hobbits sat tiredly off to the side. I noticed Frodo gazing about as if in a trance. Sam was looking concernedly over him, speaking to him in hushed tones. Merry and Pippin leaned against each other; they held their stomachs and I knew how hungry they must have felt. Gimli had removed his helmet from his head and was sitting tiredly studying it and wiping his forehead with a crumpled cloth.
My attention was suddenly drawn away from my companions as Haldir's voice penetrated my thoughts. He spoke in Elvish to me; it was a final question about our quest, and asked with all courtesy in a softer tone than what he'd been using. I prepared to answer, but Gimli broke in. "Use a tongue we all can understand!" And then he proceeded to insult the Elf.
I could not take it... How dare he! Insult the very guardian of Lothlorien! What gave him, a puny dwarf, the right to insult Haldir of Lorien?! My hand clenched into a fist and before I could stop myself, I turned to him and gave him a rough blow to the shoulder. "That was not so courteous!" I growled gruffly.
Then I realized what I had done. Pulling away, I saw Haldir staring at me, speechless. My face felt hot, and silently I prayed that no one could see me blushing in the dim light. How old was I? And how secure in my love for Arwen, that this Elf could cause such... feelings in me?
"You can go no further..." He went to move away, but I caught his arm.
My heart was pounding. "Please, good Haldir...of Lorien... We need sanctuary! We need to pass through Lothlorien. I mean us not to stay, but just let us pass..." I tentatively let go, wanting only to linger.
He studied my companions once more before turning to me again. "Come," he said softly in Sindarin. "Tell me what you are planning to do... Perhaps then I shall be able to decide whether or not it is a worthy cause."
For hours it seemed, I was forced to argue with him. He opened his mind to me, for he knew that I must know the weight of the issue. All the while we bickered, my heart was not in it. I studied the lines of his face, the gentle curve of his high cheekbone... I felt strangely detached from what was going on, and instead contented myself only to look at him before me. Never had I been so close to him... I could almost feel his breath upon my face... Yet, he seemed so far away. I avoided his eyes; I could not touch him for there were others around. His Elven archers watched us closely with curious eyes, interested in what I had to say of our fellowship.
Finally, at the mention of Elrond's council, his resistance gave away. I am still not certain why, exactly... But he turned to the others. "Follow me, and do not fall behind." He took two of his archers, intending to leave the others behind to guard the border.
We followed him all through the night and into the wee hours of the morning. It was nigh dawn when we came upon the very heart of the forest... the Palace of Lord Celeborn and Lady Galadriel. Haldir stood upon the ridge of the hill overlooking the fair place, and spoke of it in a voice so fondly... I had never heard that tone before. My eyes were glued to his figure, and as the dawn broke, it fell upon him in a pool of silvery white light. My being churned... Arwen was forgotten; I wanted only to wrap myself around him.
Once again, in Lothlorien I saw no more of him. But it was of Haldir that I was thinking when our boats pulled away from those shores...
______________--------------------___________________-------------------
Chibi Legolas: All right, yes... I promised I would never do this, and yet here it is. An LOTR slash fiction by me. * shakes head * Well it's a sad, sad world out there today! ;)
Actually, I had no plan that this would be a slash fic. I just sat down at the computer and started typing. That's it. It just turned out this way. * nods * Well, please read and I'm sorry if it is so boring... I tend to write in a sort of drawling old-fashioned way. Oh yeah, and it's told from Aragorn's point of view. * nods * Enjoy, and please respond. It would be most appreciated. ^_^
The day had been long. If Gandalf hadn't come with reinforcements, I don't doubt I would have been dead by now. But come, he had. And I was very much alive, though sore. There was a long gash on my right arm where it had taken a blow from an enemy's sword. My muscles ached, the pain traveling from my calves, through my thighs, up into my back, and ending in a dense ball at the very center of my skull. Now it was time to see to the wounded and dying.
Their cries and moaning rose into the air all around and I pitied them. My eyes followed the line of the wall, lingering on the part where it had been breached. We'd held. I could scarce believe we held the fortress!
It was then that I realized suddenly that I didn't know who had survived the battle and who had not. Putting my hands to my head, my thoughts raced. Haldir! He had arrived with Elven soldiers to come to our assistance in the rain. Oh noble creature!
"Legolas!" I called into the air. At first, nothing came out save a croaking semblance to my voice. I cleared my throat and called again, and this time his name rang up above the masses of bodies lying about the ground.
"Aragorn! Aragorn!" I closed my eyes tightly and smiled with relief. So, he had come out all right.
I prepared my throat to cry out for the son of Gloin, but his voice reached me first. "Aragorn! Dammit Strider, speak ta me!"
"Gimli, Son of Gloin! When will you learn some manners?!" I shouted back with a laugh. I could hear him laughing too, a low rumbling in the murky darkness.
I breathed in deeply of the air and thought about the person who first came to my mind. It surprised even myself! Had I been that grateful to him for what he'd done that I'd forget about the ones I'd spent my entire quest with from the very beginning?
His image filled my mind, and I felt suddenly strange. Ashamed. I recalled the first time I'd seen him, years ago...
Lothlorien's light shone down and I was trying to help my Elven brothers, sons of Lord Elrond of Rivendell, find their way to the palace there. It was a joke. They insisted that their memories were not too keen of the place, and that they had forgotten the way over the many years it had been since they'd last had trod that forest. So they decided that we should split up and try to discover the right trail that would lead us to the place. I was told that if I found it, I was to call them and we would converge together. The twins knew that I was a far better hunter than they. I had the makings of a great Ranger. Yet... This "trail" eluded me. I searched high and low, not knowing at all that the whole time I was being watched; being hunted myself.
Finally in the traces of moss, I fancied I had found the path of Elven footsteps. And just as I stood to call out to my brothers... There he was.
There was an arrow pointed at my throat from inches away. My jaw dropped and my eyes followed the tip of the weapon up to the hand that held it in its string, and then beyond that to the surreal yet handsome face at the end. He was magnificent, standing stone-still as a statue... As if he had always stood there. I had not heard footsteps nor even a subtle sound of breath or the ruffle of movement. All had been perfectly silent.
I thought him exquisite, standing there so calm and measured, the sunlight falling in white beams upon him and all around. He spoke. It was a form of Elvish but I did not understand, so he spoke again to me in Sindarin. I knew Sindarin, but I was occupied by something else: his voice. It was so soft and smooth, just like the graceful sound of the leaves as they brush against each other on a light refreshing summer breeze. If it could be visualized, it must look like the light dancing off of a beautiful mountain brook. I was caught completely off guard. It... it was enthralling... I could not help myself, I wanted to reach out and touch that ivory hair...
But I held myself back. He led us to Lothlorien for my brothers had revealed themselves then, laughing at their little joke with which the Elven archer was not pleased. I did not see any more of him until late the night of the feast thrown in honor of our visit. There, I caught a glimpse of him again as he was stepping out of the room. Our eyes locked for what seemed like an eternal moment, and it was his eyes that fell. I watched him until his pale head was out of sight.
"So you have met Haldir of Lorien, High Guardian of this place." Said the Lady Galadriel with a laugh.
"Yes...He tried to kill me." So, he was the guardian of Lothlorien? That was why he held an arrow at my throat. He seemed to me the greatest hunter I had ever known for he had come upon me and revealed himself in broad daylight. He put my skills to shame. And the way he carried himself! So regal; such grace. He seemed both mysterious and all-knowing at the same time. It made my stomach leap to think about him... I didn't know why. These were strange feelings even for me. Then I realized I had felt the same feelings often enough when I saw or thought of Arwen. This frightened me, and I forced the Elven guardian out of my mind.
Until fate brought us together again. Scarcely had we left Moria and the memory of Gandalf's fall behind us, when my mind leapt forward to Lothlorien...to him. The hobbits lay on the rocks, and even Legolas was consumed with grief at Gandalf's departure from us. But I? I could think of nothing else beside his pale hair and exquisite pointed face. And so I forced them up with the promise of danger at nightfall. And we dashed into the welcome sanctuary of that forest. I before all the others, because I could not wait to see him...
And there he was! Just as I had seen him last. But he was not alone. Many Elves were at his side this time and he did not even have his bow and arrow drawn. Somehow, this disappointed me... But then he spoke, his voice passive and soft like cloth rubbing together...
He did not want to let us pass. They held us there at the edge of the wood for hours, and it was late into night when I found he'd sent a scout up to the Lady Galadriel, asking what should they do with us? She'd sent back word to let him decide at his own discretion whether he should allow us passage. So we were gathered together before him, and he paced back and forth deep in thought before barraging us with a series of questions. I answered for us all, and kindly even though I knew the others were tired, irritated and irate at him. The questioning went on and off throughout the evening, and he couldn't seem to decide. I alone knew the weight of the decision placed upon his shoulders: should he let us pass, we could cause great potential harm. It would be his fault if that occurred. Yet, if he did not let us pass, something horrible could happen to our party... and it seemed like we were indeed on an important quest. It would be his fault too, if our fate were demise at the hands of enemies he could have prevented. My heart went out to him.
I saw the others becoming more irritated by the moment. The hobbits sat tiredly off to the side. I noticed Frodo gazing about as if in a trance. Sam was looking concernedly over him, speaking to him in hushed tones. Merry and Pippin leaned against each other; they held their stomachs and I knew how hungry they must have felt. Gimli had removed his helmet from his head and was sitting tiredly studying it and wiping his forehead with a crumpled cloth.
My attention was suddenly drawn away from my companions as Haldir's voice penetrated my thoughts. He spoke in Elvish to me; it was a final question about our quest, and asked with all courtesy in a softer tone than what he'd been using. I prepared to answer, but Gimli broke in. "Use a tongue we all can understand!" And then he proceeded to insult the Elf.
I could not take it... How dare he! Insult the very guardian of Lothlorien! What gave him, a puny dwarf, the right to insult Haldir of Lorien?! My hand clenched into a fist and before I could stop myself, I turned to him and gave him a rough blow to the shoulder. "That was not so courteous!" I growled gruffly.
Then I realized what I had done. Pulling away, I saw Haldir staring at me, speechless. My face felt hot, and silently I prayed that no one could see me blushing in the dim light. How old was I? And how secure in my love for Arwen, that this Elf could cause such... feelings in me?
"You can go no further..." He went to move away, but I caught his arm.
My heart was pounding. "Please, good Haldir...of Lorien... We need sanctuary! We need to pass through Lothlorien. I mean us not to stay, but just let us pass..." I tentatively let go, wanting only to linger.
He studied my companions once more before turning to me again. "Come," he said softly in Sindarin. "Tell me what you are planning to do... Perhaps then I shall be able to decide whether or not it is a worthy cause."
For hours it seemed, I was forced to argue with him. He opened his mind to me, for he knew that I must know the weight of the issue. All the while we bickered, my heart was not in it. I studied the lines of his face, the gentle curve of his high cheekbone... I felt strangely detached from what was going on, and instead contented myself only to look at him before me. Never had I been so close to him... I could almost feel his breath upon my face... Yet, he seemed so far away. I avoided his eyes; I could not touch him for there were others around. His Elven archers watched us closely with curious eyes, interested in what I had to say of our fellowship.
Finally, at the mention of Elrond's council, his resistance gave away. I am still not certain why, exactly... But he turned to the others. "Follow me, and do not fall behind." He took two of his archers, intending to leave the others behind to guard the border.
We followed him all through the night and into the wee hours of the morning. It was nigh dawn when we came upon the very heart of the forest... the Palace of Lord Celeborn and Lady Galadriel. Haldir stood upon the ridge of the hill overlooking the fair place, and spoke of it in a voice so fondly... I had never heard that tone before. My eyes were glued to his figure, and as the dawn broke, it fell upon him in a pool of silvery white light. My being churned... Arwen was forgotten; I wanted only to wrap myself around him.
Once again, in Lothlorien I saw no more of him. But it was of Haldir that I was thinking when our boats pulled away from those shores...
______________--------------------___________________-------------------
Chibi Legolas: All right, yes... I promised I would never do this, and yet here it is. An LOTR slash fiction by me. * shakes head * Well it's a sad, sad world out there today! ;)
Actually, I had no plan that this would be a slash fic. I just sat down at the computer and started typing. That's it. It just turned out this way. * nods * Well, please read and I'm sorry if it is so boring... I tend to write in a sort of drawling old-fashioned way. Oh yeah, and it's told from Aragorn's point of view. * nods * Enjoy, and please respond. It would be most appreciated. ^_^
