WAHOO!!!
I'm back from band camp and am officially dead… my arms hurt so much that I do not believe I will ever be able to use them again….
On the other hand, my fingers are all right, which means I can still type! ::ignores cries of distress::
Disclaimer: I don't own any part of anything having to do with Lord of the Rings. If I did, I would take them all to band camp and see if they survived. Legolas could be in the colorguard with me, Aragorn could play the trumpet, Haldir could be a flute, and the Pippin could be a drummer! (his intelligence level is at exactly the same place as the drum line in our band)
Now, onward with the story (I'll reply to reviewers on the next chapter, I promise, but I mainly wanted to get this one up)
A/N this is that last chapter before school starts, so it's probably going to be that last update for a little while, and that least insane one. Just to make things even better, I managed to get myself elected the Secretary of my marching band ::bashes self on the head for running for office:: So now, I get even more duties and responsibilities. I truly love to march, and I like to do well in school, so writing falls a few not On the other hand, I PROMISE that I will finish this fiction eventually, I will NOT abandon it!
This chapter is a bit short… sorry for that…
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Haldir just stared. It was all he could do; everything within him seemed to just stop and freeze up. It was no longer a frozen immobility- it was now a burning realization. This girl… his captain, was…..
The grotesque twang of the bow…
Who was she? Haldir was torn between turning around and running as fast as he possibly could away from this group, and running towards the still figure on the ground.
The point of the black arrow, flying towards him
Didn't his kind have to die selflessly to retain their souls?
Luinelothiel leaping in front of it, taking it for him…
She had what? The revelation struck him as soundly as any physical blow, nearly bowling the sturdy elf over. Haldir did a mental run-through of the memory and shook his head in complete bewilderment. Everything ran over his mind like it had happened yesterday, every detail clear, yet the sight was alien to him. How did that particular fact slip his mind for five thousand years? The question echoed in his mind, ringing through his head. The image of the arrow hitting his love continuously flashed through his head…over and over…
"Haldir!" Aragorn called to the elf, his eyes a plea for some kind of help. The man was utterly convinced that this torn elf was now Lythian's only hope. He was the only one who could do something, anything at all. Even the Lady was helpless.
The March Warden looked up, feeling in every way defeated, until his eyes met the unconscious elf on the ground in front of him. Here was his hope, his Luinelothiel alive in front of him again. His chance… his chance to prevail where he had last failed. His chance to save her…
With a yell of pure desperation, Haldir leapt forward and landed quite ungracefully next to Aragorn, gently but quickly taking the inert body in his arms from the man and holding it close to him. Softly, and a little awkwardly, the elf spoke…
"Luine…I mean, Lythian, my…my…beloved, wake up, please, wake up, listen to me. I love you,… and….and…..and I will never leave your side again…. I… promise." Haldir broke off and could say no more for the tears in his eyes and the lump in his throat. Determination kept him clinging to the cold body. Failure was not an option. Not again.
Lythian's body remained cold and immobile. Haldir only hugged it closer to him, so that Lythian's had rested on his chest, and her flaccid body was in his lap. Legolas had regained his ability to move and was crouching next to Aragorn and the Lady, silently looking at Haldir's now shaking body and Lythian lifeless one.
"Gods, please, by the Valar…" Haldir now shivering quite violently but it wasn't from cold. Huge, choking sobs wracked his body. He had to fight off the storm of emotions that were gong to sweep him away… but he couldn't do it alone… he needed help….he desperately needed…
"Haldir?" A very faint voice that didn't belong to Legolas, Aragorn, or the Lady called softly to him, and the March Warden looked down, not daring to hope. But… indeed two violet eyes stared up at him in slight confusion. Lythian was much paler then was usual, even for an elf, but the glint of mischief that was always in her eyes was there, and she smiled slightly up at the older elf. It was enough for Haldir. The stoic March Warden's face was alight with deep emotion, and he continued to shiver as he all but crushed Lythian to him, burying his face into her shoulder and showering her face with kisses. Lythian for her part, looked slightly confused for a moment, and then, after orientating herself, joined in his activities whole heartedly. After a few moments of furious joy, Haldir pulled away slightly, then brought his face down to his new found lover's and captured her mouth passionately. The two of them stayed in their intertwined position for several moments, oblivious to their surroundings.
The Lady smiled softly and then stood up, and after a nod towards Aragorn and Legolas, took her silent leave though the forest. Aragorn turned to the Mirkwood prince, and was surprised to see a slightly haunted expression in his eyes as he watched the newly made couple. Taking his friend's elbow, he got up, and Legolas followed his example. As silently as the Lady, the two of them took their own leave, with Aragorn making a mental note to speak to his friend about the expression he had worn.
Haldir took no notice of his counterpart's exit, but focused entirely on his new found lover.
"I'm…so sorry!" He managed to say between fevered embraces, "I don't know what in the world…" Lythian cut him off with another kiss.
"It doesn't matter anymore," she said when they had cut it off. "I love you,"
"And I love you," Haldir managed to say, before being drawn back into a feverish exchange of five thousand years worth of love….
~*~*~*~*~*~
The night had matured, and it was the time when most inhabitants of Lorien were settling into bed and the scouting shifts changed.
Gimli paced the Fellowship's camp fitfully in the darkness, furrowing his brow now and then, and grunting. Legolas and Aragorn were up to something, and it had to do with that extra poncy-stupid-conceited-wanna be warrior named Haldir. Personally Gimli thought that Haldir was an all time low for the elven race. Though he found out through Legolas that not all elves were as bad as they seemed, Haldir certainly was. Why Legolas and Aragorn would want to spend their time with him was beyond the dwarf. Gimli shrugged, Legolas never was very sensible…
"Mister Gimli?" The dwarf looked behind him to see Merry and Pippin leaning against a tree. Pippin was the one that had spoken, but they both had curious glints in their eyes, the kind they got when they were out to find a tidbit of information. From experience, Gimli knew that they wouldn't give up until they had it, or until someone offered them food.
"Yes lads?" Gimli replied personably. The hobbit amused him greatly, and for all the mishaps they got into, they all had good hearts.
"We were wondering…" Pippin began, only a hint of reluctance in his voice. "What have Mister Strider and Mister Legolas gotten themselves into? They don't seem to be around camp much and, well, we… we were wondering why they seem so upset when they do come to camp." Gimli shook his head.
"I wish I knew myself, master hobbit." The dwarf said. "They refused to tell me when I ask, and I can never seem to follow them.
"Perhaps," came a new voice from the opposite direction, "They do not want to be followed. Elves can rarely be tracked by anyone other then another elf, and that ranger is close enough to one that he is not far behind the Mirkwood prince." Boromir of Gondor came walking out of the trees behind the hobbits with a pitcher of wine in his hands. Gimli made a slight face. He did not much like the steward's son, for Boromir was often distrustful of both Aragorn and Legolas, and showed little faith in the ring bearer, dampening the already unsteady self esteem of Frodo.
"Well then," the dwarf said, trying to put on a tone of finality. "If Legolas does not want something found it, it is most likely for a good reason, or he has found a pretty elf lady. Since the chance of our master elf finding a lady, I believe it is the former of the two reasons, and we must respect his right to a secret." Gimli nodded slightly at Boromir and emphasized the finals words of his small speech. For some reason, he didn't want Boromir to get immersed in whatever it was that Legolas and Aragorn were up too. For that reason, he didn't mention the association it had with Haldir of Lorien.
"A ranger and an elf," Boromir drawled, "I wonder what dirty secrets they might hold together. Perhaps it is not a pretty lady that Legolas has found, but a pretty human. Not that I care much for his taste in men…" Boromir cut off the sentence, a nasty tone in his voice. Gimli silently vowed revenge. The dwarf had no problem with the implication of Legolas and Aragorn being lovers as he knew and respected many men and dwarves alike who's preferences ran to their own gender, but the comment was clearly meant as an insult towards his friends, and that, Gimli could not tolerate. However, the hobbits beat him to the carrying out of revenge. Whether or not it was intentional is left to the imagination. Pippin turned to look at Boromir, peering around him to a tree that was several yards away. Although Gimli knew very well that it was nearly impossible to see anything in the dark, Pippin brightened up and smiled hugely.
"Mushrooms!" He yelled jovially, running as fast as his hobbit legs could possibly take him towards the patch of fungus. In the process, the none-too-graceful hobbit ran headlong into Boromir, making him stumble back, splashing the wine over the edges of the pitcher, staining the man's hands red, and getting several drops of the dark liquid on his silver tunic. The man for his part managed to stumble away from the mad hobbit and keep his balance, delicately rebalancing his silver pitcher. However, Merry was not going to let the man get off so easy.
"Mushrooms? Where?" he replied to Pippin's comment, and without any warning, dashed headlong into Boromir, knocking the man, and his pitcher of wine into the air. Nimbly, the hobbit dodged both and went to stand over with Pippin, both of them watching, amused as Boromir hit the ground, backside first. The man groaned, but immediately jumped to his feet just in time to receive the pitched of wine-face down- over his head. By the time the man got the pitcher off his head, he was dripping wet, and covered from head to toe in crimson. Even in the darkness, Gimli could see the vibrant red color. However, the wine wasn't the only thing staining the man's face red. Boromir was crimson with anger, and he threw a glance of pure hatred at the two innocent looking Hobbits before storming off.
At least, Gimli thought, roaring with laughter when the man was out of earshot (the hobbits were already on the ground, shaking uncontrollably with hysterics) He had the shame not to say anything.
~*~*~*~*~
Legolas allowed Aragorn to draw him away from the scene of Haldir and Lythian, his eyes both wanting and not wanting to leave it. It made him sick, but at the same time, he felt sick for feeling sick, because it was his best friend being truly happy for the first time in millenniums. So why did he feel so awful? Why did he feel such alien emotions running through him? Surely it wasn't jealously, surely not…. Mentally, Legolas kicked himself. I do believe that I've topped the list for stupidest things ever done. Conflicting feelings hit him from both sides and succeeded in doing nothing but make him feel sicker.
"What is wrong my friend?" Aragorn peered through the darkness at the elf as the two of them made their way slowly back to the campsite of the fellowship. "You do not seem very happy, and yet I do believe that the majority of our problems have been solved." Aragorn was extremely happy about the way that the events had turned out, after getting over the extreme shock of the events that had recently occurred. Sometime, when the fellowship was over and he was able to settle somewhere, Aragorn decided, that he would study deeply the life and death cycles of the elves and piece together the events of the past days. However, right now, the man simply wanted to return to the task of accompanying the ring bearer and worry about little else.
She is the reincarnation of my mother! Legolas told himself stubbornly, before forcing calm to his voice.
"I am very happy for Haldir and Lythian," Legolas said, truthfully. "I am glad that they are happy." He left the words hanging.
"However…?" Aragorn pried, knowing there was a downside to Legolas's words.
"Nothing." Legolas said, trying to sounds content.
"You are a terrible liar." Aragorn said flatly. After a long silence broken only by the sounds of chirping crickets, Legolas spoke, very reluctantly.
"There's just something about Lythian…" Legolas trailed off once again.
"What about her?" Aragorn asked impatiently. He dearly wished that the elf would stop beating around the bush and tell him simply what was wrong.
"I…I think…" Legolas began slowly.
"You think what?" Aragorn asked, clearly annoyed, all his patience having left him. Legolas stopped short in his tracks a few yards from where the fellowship's camp was. Grimacing, he turned to face Aragorn and articulated,
"I think I'm in love with her."
~*~*~*~*~
That's all for now
Once again, thanks to my Beta, Amlugwen for her wonderful ideas and input!
I'll post ASAP, once things settle down a little bit.
Good luck with everyone returning to work and school this week!
Wind to thy wings,
Lady-Daine