Authors
Note: although in both the book and the film, Haldir and Legolas have
never met, in this tale they have previously encountered each other, though
they spend very little time together. Plus, the passage in italics and marked
at either end with ** is a memory within a dream sequence. Please note,
this chapter is in Haldir's POV
brokeassproduc, I had this done months ago but had a little time at work today so I edited it to make it PG-13 and here it is :)
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#4 - Into Mirkwood
The dark sky began to pale as dawn approached, bringing with it the promise of another dry day. As dim light began to spread across the land, Haldir saw great shadows rising into the brightening sky and silently he sighed, for he had reached the boarders of Mirkwood. Taking a small drink from the water pouch which hung at his waist, he looked at the forest looming before him and wondered what he would find once he entered. He had been travelling for four days and had taken little rest, such was the urgency in his heart to reach Thranduil and urge him to make the journey to Rivendell for the Council. Slowing his steed to a walk, they passed under the withered branches of a large, long dead oak and entered Mirkwood. Long had it been since he had walked that part of the world and much had changed since last he was there. His senses told him that his passage was watched but, feeling no malice or evil stemming from the watchers, he knew he did not yet risk an encounter with Wargs. Slipping from the bare back of his mount, he walked a while, allowing his trusted steed some small measure of rest without his weight being carried. Almost unconsciously his hand strayed to the hilt of the simple dagger he carried at his waist, its twin sheathed at his back, the only weapons he carried besides his bow. A full quiver was fastened firmly across his back, the intricately carved bow carefully nestled around it and within easy reach, should it be required. Keeping his eyes and ears open for any threat of attack, he slowly ventured deeper into the land of Mirkwood.
He remained unhindered and undisturbed for the rest of the day as he headed on towards centre of the forest, alternating between riding and walking, knowing it would be unwise to stop but realising he did need some sleep, if only for a few hours. Continuing into the night, he finally stopped once the moon had travelled past its peak and its light began to dim. Entering a small clearing, his eyes roamed the surrounding trees for any sign of danger and, finding none, he chose to make camp briefly. His mount stayed close, ears flicking backwards and forwards as his more sensitive hearing detected sounds Haldir could not. Making a small fire, he quickly stripped the feathers from the pheasant he had taken down earlier in the day and skewered it, placing it just above the flames. Leaving it to cook, he filled the water pouch and took a long drink from the pure water of the nearby stream. Returning to the fire, he checked the roasting bird and slowly lowered himself to the ground, allowing his mind to wander to the others who had set forth with messages similar to his own.
"How do my brothers fare? Are they safe? Are they too resting, and perhaps thinking of home?" While he would never cease to worry over their safety, he knew in his heart that his brothers were well and could take care of themselves. They were skilled warriors, adept at avoiding being seen and at evading capture.
"What of Lenala? Is she safe? Had our Lady not requested I journey to Mirkwood, I would have gone with her. Perhaps when this is over, she might consent to hear my request…" he stopped the train of thought before he got any further. Though they had lain together on several occasions, Haldir had always considered himself unworthy of Lenala's attention and deemed himself too lowly to bond with her. Shaking his head, he cleared his mind of such wonton thoughts and turned his attention to the roasting bird. Once he had eaten his fill, he settled himself beside the fire, the warmth of the flames quickly making him drowsy.
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No more than twenty feet from his location, three elves watched the stranger who had entered their lands, unsure of what to do. He bore the look of the Silvan, his clothing suggesting he hailed from Lothlorien, but they had nothing else by which to identify if he was friend or foe. His pale travel cloak was plain and his horse bore neither saddle nor brand to help the hidden watchers trace either his origins or his allegiance. Remaining hidden for the moment, they waited for their leader to return with one who would know how to deal with the stranger.
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His eyelids grew heavy, his body demanding the rest he had deprived it off for
the last four days. Exhaustion finally overcame him and Haldir drifted into
a deep sleep, his mount a few feet from his sleeping form as if standing guard
over his master, protecting him while Haldir could not protect himself.
The sweet smell of spring blossom roused him from his sleep and he opened his eyes, quickly becoming aware of the warmth of another body at his side. Turning his head slowly, so as not to awaken the sleeper, a smile pulled at his lips as he saw who rested in his arms. He remained still, watching her, a sense of wonder surrounding him that so exquisite an elf would grant to lay with him. Though night still reigned over the land, Haldir was wide awake, content simply to watch as Lenala slept peacefully beside him. A gentle sigh escaped her lips and she moved against him, sleepily opening her eyes, her full lips curving into a suggestive smile as she focused on Haldir and saw he was awake. Shifting position slightly, she gently stroked her hand against his cheek, leaning over to softly press her lips to his. His laid tender kisses down her neck and over her throat, his tongue flicking gently over the circular scar on her collarbone. He clearly remembered the day she had gotten it and he was still puzzled as to why it had never fully healed.
**It was the day she had been found by the elves of Lothlorien, many centuries
ago. Some of the Ishamalan* had seen smoke and a small group had been hastily
assembled to investigate, travelling for nearly a full day to the outer edges
of the western side of the forest. There they discovered a small dwelling none
had seen before; the structure was still burning in places, though most of it
was little more than smouldering embers. Laying a few feet away, and near death,
they had found Lenala; naked, bloody and badly burned. Haldir recalled he had
thought it a certainty that she would succumb to her injuries but she had proved
him wrong, the healing power of their Lady restoring her to health. But even
Galadriel's power could not heal the burn just below her neck and a permanent
physical scar remained. It served as a reminder to others of the ordeal she
had suffered; though few ever saw the many, far more severe, emotional scars
he knew she carried.**
He pulled his thoughts away from such painful memories, concentrating on the
woman in his arms who was beginning to purr with pleasure at his tender caresses...
Waking slowly a
few hours later, he relished the memory of their love making; still able to
feel her touch, smell her sweet scent, taste her lips, as if it had been only
moments before. Suddenly something caught his attention, a slight rustle of
fabric brushing leaves. He sat up, surprised and mildly annoyed to discover
he was surrounded by five elves of Mirkwood, their arrows aimed directly at
him. He stayed still, cocking his head to one side slightly as one of the elves,
bearing a striking resemblance to Thranduil, stepped forward…