Author's Notes: I've hit the 100 review mark! Thank you everyone who has been kind enough to leave a review. They really make my day and encourage me to keep writing.
I've received several reviews asking me if Celeborn and Galadriel will resolve their differences by the time the fellowship arrives. I don't want to say whether their differences will be resolved or not. If I told you, it would spoil the story ;-). However, the problem will come to a conclusion before the fellowship arrives. I was also asked if any members of the fellowship will show up at some point. In this chapter, one member of the fellowship does make an appearance. The rest of the fellowship will show up for the "touching" conclusion.
Plot Bunny Thanks go to:
LordVaughn: I promised that one of your ideas would go into chapter 8, didn't I? I loved your idea for how Haldir's helper would act. Thanks again for the great review!
Everyone who wanted Gandalf to make an appearance.
Thinking in * *
Chapter 8: Some Much Needed Help
As the sun began to set behind the Misty Mountains, a lone figure was moving toward Lothlórien at a great speed. If he did not hurry, the sun would set and the orcs residing in the caverns around the Golden Wood would quickly overtake him. He urged his horse to move faster, his worn grey robes flapping behind him from the speed in which he traveled. Luck was on his side that night as he entered the woods just as the last rays of sunlight disappeared in the west. Breathing a sigh of relief, he slowed his exhausted horse down to an easy walk. The journey he was on was long and tiring for both him and his mount. A night in the kingdom of Lórien was just what both of them needed to regain their stamina.
Or so he thought…
* * *
On the outskirts of Lórien, the head of the Ghaladrim was hiding out in the high branches of a mallorn tree. His face was pale and his hair was matted and stuck to the sweat on his exposed neck and face. His knees were pulled up to his chest with his arms wrapped around them, much like a child would do. Little whimpers escaped from his mouth as he gently rocked himself back and forth. After the previous night's events, the elven guard had sought solitary refuge amongst the ancient trees and did not dare to move the entire day. He was determined to keep silent, lest he alert anyone to his location. However, the occasional whimpers that he could not control threatened to give away his position.
"Haldir can not go back," His voice was scarcely above a whisper. "If Haldir goes back, they will be mean to Haldir. Celeborn is a bad elf. He took advantage of Haldir's hospitality. Galadriel is a bad elf. She tried to take advantage of Haldir's gorgeous body. Haldir did not do anything wrong. Haldir is a good elf. Haldir is a good elf. Haldir is a good elf."
The shadow passed over Haldir's face.
"You are not a good elf. You are a cowardly elf."
Haldir returned to normal.
"I am not a coward. I am a good elf."
The shadow fell upon him again.
"You are a coward and you know it."
"I am not!" Haldir growled at himself. "You are mean!"
"Wimp!"
"Jerk!"
"Pansy!"
"Vile traitor!"
"Cry baby!"
"Cruel animal-kicker!"
"…Girly-elf!"
"Now wait just a moment!" Haldir roared as he jumped to his feet. "You can call me a pansy, a wimp, and maybe even a coward, but NOBODY calls me a GIRL!"
"Then I shall simply call you Haldir," Came a voice from below the elf's hiding spot.
The elven guard jumped in shock and nearly lost his balance on the tree branch. Haldir steadied himself before glaring down at whoever had disturbed him. If this person dared to tell anyone about Haldir name-calling himself, he would dearly regret it when arrows were fired repeatedly at his head. He received a very pleasant surprise when he identified who was below him.
The figure was rather tall and clad completely in shades of grey from his boots to his pointy hat. His grey beard fell halfway down his chest and his grey hair was swept around his shoulders like a small cloak. He held a long wooden staff in one hand while the other held the reins of an exhausted horse. Haldir caught a bit of the figure's scent with his sensitive nose; pipeweed and earth.
"Well met, Mithrandir!" Haldir called down to him. "Not many can sneak up on a member of the Ghaladrim and catch him off guard so efficiently."
Mithrandir, grey wizard of the Istari, smiled up at the elven guard. "No indeed, Haldir. But the task was easy today. Just about anyone could sneak up on you unnoticed when you are yelling so loudly to no one in particular."
Haldir's face flushed slightly at the Istari's words. It was true. If anyone found out that he was so easily caught off his guard, he would become the laughing stock of the Ghaladrim. Shaking the thought from his head, Haldir began to climb down from the tree. He landed without a sound next to the Grey Pilgrim and managed a smile.
"It has been far too long since you last came to Lórien, Mithrandir. How go things with you?"
Mithrandir smiled back. "Indeed it has been too long, Haldir, but I am sorry to say that my stay here will be a short one. I am heading north to the Shire to visit a young hobbit friend of mine. I am in haste and only stopped here because the sun has set and the orcs beyond these borders are relentless at night."
"Indeed," Haldir nodded gravely. "The foul beasts are multiplying faster than even the elves can keep track of. Something tells me that there is more to your journey than simply visiting a friend, though. Why would you be in haste, unless something urgent has come to your attention?"
"Perceptive as always, Haldir. I would expect nothing less from you," Mithrandir chuckled before his voice became somber. "Something urgent has come to my attention. While in Minas Tirith, I found several documents written by Isildur on the One Ring. I have reason to believe that this hobbit I am on my way to visit may now be in possession of the One Ring."
Haldir's eyes widened in disbelief. *The One Ring still exists! And in the hands of a halfling, no less! If what Mithrandir believes is true, then Middle Earth is about to take a turn for the worse.*
"Of course," Mithrandir chuckled again. "I could be completely wrong. Perhaps all of my long years have made me paranoid. I am fairly certain that he does not possess the One Ring, but I need to check anyway. One can not be too careful."
"And if the hobbit does have the One Ring?"
Mithrandir beamed as he answered innocently. "If a hobbit is in possession of the One Ring, then we are all going to die."
Both the Istari and the elven guard stared at each other for a moment before they burst out laughing. The idea of a hobbit; a short, squat, humble, eternally hungry hobbit; with the all powerful One Ring of Sauron was positively hilarious.
"Much as I am enjoying this conversation, Haldir, I fear that I must move on to the city," Mithrandir chuckled as he wiped a tear of mirth from his eyes. "I should inform Lady Galadriel and Lord Celeborn of my arrival."
The Istari noticed the elf beside him stiffen.
"Is there something wrong, Haldir?" He questioned.
Haldir sighed. "I am not sure how to put this into words. I suppose it would be easiest to say that Lady Galadriel and Lord Celeborn are having a severe disagreement about their relationship and have separated."
"Really?" Mithrandir brought his face closer to the elf's. Haldir's eyes told him that the elf was holding back something important. "And what part do you have in this 'disagreement'?"
The elf sighed again and looked down at his boots. "Unfortunately, I am caught in the middle of their quarrels and can not get out of it. Both of them look to me to ease their pain, but things only get worse when I try to help. I am sorry. You do not need to hear my woes when you have more important matters to attend to."
"No, Haldir. Tell me of your troubles. Perhaps it may help to ease your mind," The Istari replied in the same voice one would use to comfort a troubled child.
"I fear there is too much to tell for your short stay," Haldir sighed. "I do not wish to delay your journey north."
Mithrandir pulled out hip pipe and began to fill it with pipeweed as he responded. "It will hardly delay my journey at all. Besides, I am sure that the hobbit will find any reason to delay his departure as much as possible. I am sure that a few spared hours will change nothing."
Haldir needed no further prompting as he immediately launched into a full account of the past week's events. He started from the moment he found Celeborn and gave full details of his lord's schemes and the meetings with both of his brothers. He retold the backfired attempt to find a fake lover for Celeborn and how his lord had taken the plan too seriously. Haldir's face paled and his voice faltered slightly as he described Galadriel's uncharacteristic advances and the fight with Celeborn in the grove over him. Mithrandir listened with rapt attention to the elven guard's tales, silently puffing on his pipe and blowing occasional smoke rings. One could easily tell that the Istari was analyzing each event that Haldir spoke of very carefully.
"The worst part about this," Haldir continued. "is that I keep hearing this voice that is constantly insulting me and telling me to do treasonous things to my lord and lady. Then I realized that the voice was actually my own. It worries me greatly because it scares all of the maidens away. How can I find a bit of passion to ease my stress levels when all of the ladies see me arguing out loud with myself and think I am insane?"
Mithrandir abruptly stopped his smoking and gave Haldir a closer look. "So you are saying that what I heard earlier was an argument with yourself? Most curious."
Haldir sent the Istari a pleading look. "Do you know what is wrong with me, Mithrandir?"
"Most certainly!" Mithrandir replied with a slight note of indignation. "You have elven schizophrenia, though I have not seen a case this serious since Glorfindel got kicked in the head by that old mule. The poor fellow was so intoxicated and mistook the beast's rump for a maiden's chest. Ah yes, that mule had a very rude awakening. It was a most depressing time in Imladris after that incident, what with him switching between the personality of a respectable elf lord and that of a dwarven cheese taster and part time male stripper named Bobo."
"Is there a cure?" Haldir yelped. The thought of cheese tasting sounded a bit too fattening, though he had to admit that the stripping might win back a few hearts.
The Istari stroked his long grey beard as he thought. Taking a long drag on his pipe, his face lit up when an answer finally struck him. "In truth, I have no idea. I was not there when they finally did something to help him. Elrond mentioned it to me a while ago, but my memory is a bit hazy."
"You do not remember what the cure was?" Haldir cried out in horror. "You are renowned for your excellent memory, Mithrandir. How could you not remember Lord Elrond's words?"
"I am not sure," Mithrandir's face scrunched up in concentration. "I recall scaring a few hobbits by waving my staff around in order to obtain three crates of Longbottom Leaf earlier that day, but everything that happened for the rest of the week was a complete blur. Now that I think about it, when things became clear again, all of my Longbottom Leaf was gone. One day, I vow that I will catch the pipeweed pilferer and turn him into a sloth. No one takes my pipeweed and gets away with it. It is mine; my own, my love, my preciousss…"
As he spoke, Mithrandir pulled out a leaf of pipeweed and began to gently caress it. He held the leaf up to his mouth and whispered more endearments to it.
It was then that Haldir completely understood why elves did not smoke.
"Ah yes," Mithrandir smiled as he gingerly put the leaf away. "I believe that all of our talk has made me quite thirsty."
The Istari reached into his saddle bag and pulled out a clear bottle filled with red liquid. Haldir stared at it curiously. The markings upon the bottle clearly showed that it had come from Gondor.
"Gondor's finest red wine," Mithrandir smiled at Haldir's curiosity. "It is made from the richest grapes in Middle Earth. Old Denethor has quite a collection of this wine and keeps it under lock and key. Not that such things can stop me," He winked. "I am sure that he will not miss a few bottles."
"You stole the Steward of Gondor's wine?" Haldir raised an eyebrow at Mithrandir.
"Believe me, Haldir, he will not notice anything is missing. Besides, this wine is special. Because of the way it is prepared, this wine affects all races differently."
"How so?"
"For instance, this wine tastes very sweet to men; more like a fruit juice than alcohol. It takes many glasses of this wine to intoxicate a man. An elf, on the other hand, would become inebriated after only a few sips. Rather remarkable stuff. Elrond is particularly fond of it, what with him being half human and half elf. He says it gives him quite a…what was the word? … 'buzz'. I thought that perhaps a few bottles would please him enough to let me drop a hobbit or two on his doorstep in case I am right. I would help them deal with the One Ring instantly if my friend did have it, but I could never afford to feed their insatiable appetites."
"Wait," Haldir held up a hand to stop Mithrandir from speaking further. "You said that this wine is very potent for elves, did you not?"
"I did."
"How potent?"
Mithrandir scratched his chin through his beard. "I have heard that elves start to have hallucinations after one glass. Yes, I would say that one glass of this wine will intoxicate even the hardiest elves."
Haldir's eyes lit up as a wicked smile spread across his face. The answer to all of his problems was lying there in the Istari's hands. Plans quickly formulated within his mind which both of his personalities strongly agreed on.
"Mithrandir, do you suppose I could take one of those bottles off your hands?"
A/N: Oh the suspense! What is Haldir up to? Could it have anything to do with Celeborn and Galadriel? The end is coming; only a chapter and an epilogue left. Any last minute ideas would be wonderful and, naturally, all reviews are welcome.
With "An Elf Lord Has Needs" nearing completion, I've been thinking about what I'm going to write next. I have already begun to map out an action/adventure that takes place post ROTK that involves the remainder of the fellowship and a very familiar ghost. I won't say anymore because I don't want to spoil anything. I'm also considering writing a spin off of "Elf Lord" with a few comedic short stories about the untold stories of other elves; such as Elrond, Arwen, and possibly Glorfindel and Thranduil. What does everyone think? Do my ideas sound interesting, or should I scrap them immediately? Send me an answer in a review.