Disclaimer: Nothing is mine, save the plot.

Rating: PG 13 for scenes of battle violence and adolescent angst.

Summary: To all, the prince of Mirkwood was Beloved. But to the lone Warden of Lorien, he was a nightmare incarnate.

Author's Note: Finally, a story of Legolas and Haldir – a standalone, yes, but a backdrop to my ongoing Road to Redemption series. Thank you in advance for reviews. Wink.

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By Kasmi Kassim

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Golden Sun, Silver Moon

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Chapter 4: What Was, Is, and Would Be

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He frowned as he counted the orcs. Why were they so disorganized? Glancing at the patrol members scattered about, he shifted from his perch atop the mallorn tree, and cursed when he nearly fell off. Whoever thought healthy sleep needed to be a component to physical balance obviously never went through sleepless nights before throwing together the whole worldly design.

He was tired, barely fed, and restless. It had been four nights; he had been steering clear of the inner forests since. Those terrified eyes still haunted him, and he clenched his hand – it still throbbed from the cut – when had he cut himself? The blood had been unintended. Truly, all of that had been unintended.

But his excuses were pathetic to his own ears. It was more than a mistake. It was more than that.

"Then what was it?" he hissed to himself. Legolas was right – he did see her in him. But what then? What did he want?

Terrified, he scrubbed that thought away. He stood abruptly, and jumped at the sight of blond hair at his shoulder. Legolas stood a branch away, watching.

"I begin to wonder the same thing," Legolas said. "What was it, Haldir?"

Haldir fought for composure. "Legolas," he said smoothly, "I apologize. It was not –"

"I know what it was not." Legolas' voice cut in. "I want to know what it was."

Words stuck at his throat. Legolas moved, breaking the paralyzed air between them. "You have thinned, Haldir." He reached to casually touch Haldir's face. "And you're pale." Before Haldir could flinch away, Legolas dropped his hand and surveyed the distant grounds. "Busy watching the borders, I see."

Breathe, Haldir, he told himself. To think he had considered Rumil unpredictable –

"Is it personal?"

Haldir blinked. "What?"

"The orcs." Legolas turned to Haldir. "Is it personal?"

Haldir stared at Legolas. Was he being given a chance to apologize? Or was he being hunted? The youth's eyes were smooth and hard, and Haldir found himself fearing not a ghost, but Legolas himself.

"Legolas," he said, wanting to babble. "I –"

"Is it?"

Haldir swallowed a sigh. Legolas was not interested in apologies. Forgiveness would be trite; the whole business would be a parade. "The feud between elves and orcs is a long-standing one," he said haltingly.

"Hatred is not innate." Legolas' eyes flickered toward Haldir's bow. "You have beautiful craftsmanship, Haldir."

Haldir glanced at the fine etchings on his bow. He was lost and gasping for air and Legolas was giving him no opening. "What makes you think I have this...acquired hatred?"

"Your eyes." Legolas looked up at Haldir. "They are like Elladan and Elrohir's eyes."

Haldir needed no more explanation. He knew the twin sons of Elrond – their easy laughter, their gentle tongue, their youthful vivacity. And the avenging fury that blazed their trail in the wilderness.

"We elves have a long history on this earth. We have collective sorrows, collective grief." There was a dull ache somewhere, but he could not place it. "An age-old pain and hate lives in us, a constant song that sings in our veins." Elladan and Elrohir. He was hardly a friend to them, but their eyes spoke close to his heart.

"Again, I ask: is it personal?" This child had her eyes, but he gazed like his father. Thranduil always had a way of gazing directly into one's soul...

"How can it not be?" Haldir managed. "We elves are all kin; the enemy of my dear ones is also an enemy of mine."

"Hatred is not innate."

"It is rather unnatural not to hate."

Legolas narrowed his eyes. "Warden Haldir. I may be young, but I am a member of Mirkwood patrol; I know something of soldiers and killings. And I think I may know the nature of the hate that burns in you when you kill."

"As opposed to your cool, objective calm?" Haldir's smile was chilling. "Your hunting attitude is rather impressive, Prince Legolas. Despite your history."

Silence fell. Haldir felt dizzy; this was not what he had meant to say. He was going to apologize, explain that he had not meant to point that knife at him. She had been laughing in front of him, and he was helpless all over again, and hadn't known what he was doing. What was he doing?

It was too late. The blue of Legolas' eyes was churning; the tides were swift, and realization dawned. And those eyes darkened, glittering with knowledge irreversible. Time stood still as Legolas' lips moved slowly.

"You blame me for my mother's death."

Haldir's heart dropped.

The silence was answer enough. Legolas abruptly rose. Haldir closed his eyes as nimble feet moved away.

Haldir started forward, and slowed. Would he lie to the child and say he was mistaken? Or would he apologize, thereby admitting that he did in fact blame him for her death? There was no right way to go about this. He had nothing to say that would not add to the injury his silence had dealt.

He turned back to the plains. He glanced to the right. He looked out to the left. He listened for the leaves.

Then he jumped to his feet and hurried after Legolas.

Haldir hated dishonesty. He hated sweetened words. He hated the lies he would be living as long as the prince stayed within his sight. But he could not – would not – let the child be a victim of his own principle, would not let the child go on with the knowledge of what he had just wordlessly admitted.

Ignoring the saluting guards, he hastened after the trail the prince had not bothered to cover – apparently he did not share Orophin's adolescent trait of running and hiding – and found him on a giant mallorn tree, staring into its trunk.

Haldir took a breath. There was no way to go about this but unconditional apology.

"Legolas... I spoke in anger. Forgive me. I did not mean what I said."

Young shoulders suddenly slumped. He slowly turned, and Haldir held his breath. No child should have such eyes – such a defeated look, such weary blue –

"No, Haldir, forgive me." Legolas raked his fingers through his hair. "I baited you. I know it's a painful subject to you as well."

Haldir did not trust himself to speak. He answered with silence.

Legolas turned fully around, his face sad and tired. "You do resent me, don't you?"

Haldir's lips stiffened. "No."

Legolas smiled, fleeting. "Am I forcing you to lie as well, Haldir?"

Haldir fell silent.

Of course he resented. How could he not resent? She had been his world, his shelter, his sanctuary. He had joined the guards for her. He had become a Warden for her. He had lived for her.

But alas, it was not to be. She died in a place he could not reach, willingly for a child who knew not the weight of the loss. A child who moved not with the blazing hatred of the twin sons of Elrond – no, this wood elf laughed and danced among the trees, and aimed his arrows with methodical precision. His movements, fluid with judgment and calculation, knew nothing of the fire that burned in Haldir. No pity, no compassion; his innocence was a cruel one, a thoughtless facet of sheltered youth.

He knew it was for the best, Legolas' attitude in fighting – unhindered by nightmares, calm and all-seeing. Yet its dispassionate efficiency burned into his heart like a brand. It was an insult in the face of her death. And she had died for this child.

Legolas held his gaze, knowing eyes awaiting admission. Haldir refused to speak.

"Haldir! Have you seen Lego – oh." Orophin came jogging from the trees, slowing to a stop as he eyed the two. He cleared his throat. "A summon from the Lord and Lady, Haldir." He cleared his throat some more. "You too, Legolas. It is urgent."

Haldir shifted as Legolas' low voice burned into the silence. "If Rumil hadn't caught you," the voice churned, intense with running undercurrents, "would you have hurt me?"

Orophin swallowed.

Haldir turned. "Let's go."

Legolas' hand shot out and grabbed Haldir's arm. "Would you have hurt me?"

Haldir stood still. Finally he turned his head, only enough to cast a sidelong glance at Legolas.

"I would never hurt you," he said quietly.

Legolas' fingers fell away. Haldir turned away and soundlessly moved on.

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The return trip was swift and silent. Haldir led, Legolas followed, and Orophin vanished every so often. Haldir did not once glance back. Legolas made no attempt to speak.

The Lord and Lady were speaking to several soldiers in the pavilion, including Rumil. Orophin vanished again, this time reappearing behind Rumil. Galadriel nodded to them. "We received your reports. Thank you, Legolas."

Legolas bowed. "I do no more than share the burden of our kin."

The Lord met Haldir's questioning gaze. "Legolas has been watching the borders alone for the past weeks."

Suddenly, Haldir felt sick.

"Though they appear harmless, Legolas says there is a curious pattern." Celeborn glanced at Legolas. "Quite akin to a formation he had once witnessed in Mirkwood."

The Lady looked at Legolas. "Only once, you say?"

Legolas lowered his gaze. "Only once, my lady, in my childhood. I was not yet old enough to ride a pony."

"So young?" The lady's voice was full of wonder. "And you are sure your memory is clear?"

"As clear as yesterday." Legolas looked up. "It was the day the orc invasion killed my mother."

Silence cut; Haldir could not breathe. Somewhere far, Rumil was watching him. The blue of the starlight was reflected onto the blue of the child's eyes, so bright – no child should have such eyes – Haldir wanted to move, or speak, or go closer and tell him not to look like that, don't look like that –

The Lord broke the silence. "Thank you, child. You shall have a full squadron at your command. Haldir will support you in your investigation."

The lady's gaze was upon him, and Haldir found his voice at last. He bowed.

"I will regroup the guards."

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The trees were whispering.

Legolas crouched by the bushes, listening. Behind him, Haldir was spreading out the troops, once again restored to command. He had not once glanced at Legolas during the entire sojourn, and during their camp in this land, spoke with him of nothing but their mission. It was as if their entire exchange had not occurred. They were back to being captain and subordinate, and the air between them bristled with tension.

"What news?" whispered a voice from behind. It was Orophin.

"They keep circling wide of the forest." Legolas rolled his shoulders, weary. "They seem determined to run top speed in mindless patterns."

"They often do stay away for fear of our arrows."

"Yes, but not in such an organized formation." Legolas glanced around. "They keep converging on the eastern marsh before starting another loop."

"It is a good place to hide and regroup."

"True." Legolas bit his lip.

Orophin sighed. "Legolas. The orcs are circling wide of the forest. They are avoiding us, and moving in random patterns, looking for a chance to attack. What is so suspicious about that?"

"My only fear is -" Legolas looked up. "They might be looping and converging to hide something in their random pattern. There may be something there they are covering, lost amid their endless tracks."

"But even so," Orophin said, "what can they do while they move about in a loop so wide and open?"

Legolas looked back down at the plains. "Perhaps," he murmured, "they might be trickling away into some unknown path, waiting to gather enough hidden forces for an ambush."

Orophin sighed. "That is one way to look at it, I suppose."

"It is," Legolas admitted. "I am not certain. I have only seen this formation once."

"And we are to risk losing weeks of patrol on our grounds to confirm this?"

"That once was too great a price to pay." Legolas glanced. "I apologize for keeping you all here."

"It is my captain's command." Orophin looked long at Legolas. The youth looked up questioningly. "So why were you patrolling alone? What were you hoping to find?"

Legolas blinked. "Orcs?"

"Not my brother's attention, are you sure?"

Legolas stiffened. The whisper of the winds became shrill, and he nocked an arrow and sent it flying with barely a glance. A distant scream pierced the air.

"Impressive," Orophin said flatly. The two watched each other as an orc scampered into hiding. The trees fell quiet.

"What are you trying to say?" Legolas said at last, and Orophin smiled.

"Sensitive, are we?"

"Our issue is between Haldir and I."

"I would prefer it to stay between you two, but I happen to be his brother, and am rather affected by his moods."

Legolas's eyes burned a bit longer, and then seemed to extinguish altogether. "What do you want?" he said wearily, looking away.

"Never one to take the roundabout way, are you? You really are Thranduil's son."

"Don't speak my father's name," Legolas snapped. Orophin raised his brows.

"Look here, now, the prince has his temper too."

In a flash, a callused hang grabbed his collar, and Orophin found blue sparks blazing into his eyes. He glanced down at the grip upon his collar. "Are you certain you want to commit violence? You would be dismissed from the guard, you know. Again."

The fist clenching his tunic trembled, but Legolas did not move further. Orophin smiled lazily. "That's what I thought. Because when our captain sees this..." he glanced beyond Legolas' shoulder. Legolas haltingly turned, and froze to see Haldir standing behind them. Unlike his usual unreadable calm, his eyes were dark with smoldering wrath.

"Legolas, come with me. Orophin, wait back at the fire." With a turn, he shouted orders for the squadron to withdraw for the night save the designated watch guards. Legolas rose to his feet miserably. Haldir did not once glance back, or break his stride.

Legolas flinched when Haldir threw open the tent flap, secretly grateful that there was no door to slam shut. Haldir began to pace back and forth, seemingly oblivious of Legolas' presence, his brows furrowed and lips moving in a fevered, soundless whisper. And suddenly, he whirled, and stared at Legolas. The youth almost cowered.

"Well?" he said.

The air was thick, and Legolas swallowed. He could not speak, could not move, at the face of Haldir's fury. He stared at his feet. "I'm sorry," he whispered.

"Wrong answer, Thranduilion!" Haldir thundered. Legolas flinched.

Haldir began pacing again, his voice once again somewhat level. "I want to hear exactly when, how, and why you were close to pointing an arrow at a fellow patrol's throat."

"I was not –"

"Is that your final answer?" Haldir cut sharply, and Legolas fell silent.

Haldir closed his eyes. "Legolas. Tell me this." He took a deep breath. "Will I ever, in the most distant of futures, see you threatening violence to a fellow elf again?"

Silence.

"Answer me!"

"I'm sorry."

Haldir held his breath.

Legolas raised a timid gaze. "I am sorry to disappoint you, Haldir. But if an elf, even of my own Silvan or Sindarin kin, insults or threatens someone who is dear to me, I shall point an arrow at them without a second thought."

"Even kin?" Haldir's voice was strangely quiet.

Legolas swallowed. "Even kin."

"You would lose your honor, turn against kin, be banished among elves, to protect what is dear?" Haldir 's voice became flat. "What if a mortal becomes dear to you? A dwarf? An orc? A lost cause? A suicide mission?"

Legolas held his breath. He had heard it whispered; the young Warden possessed a gift of foresight – but he had never confirmed nor denied. He tried to shake the fog of foreboding from his mind. The tempest in Haldir's eyes was strangely calm.

"I do not know, Haldir. I – I'm sorry. The case with Orophin was different. I acted rashly. I should not have attacked him at a mere insult."

"What exactly was this insult?" Haldir was back to being expressionless. Legolas paced in place, suddenly desperate.

"Haldir, please."

"Is it something I should not be hearing?"

"It was nothing. Please."

Haldir continued to press him with the weight of his gaze. Legolas avoided it.

"I see." Haldir's voice was blank. "Will I see such a display again, Legolas?"

Legolas shook his head. "No, captain. Not in your squadron."

"Good." Haldir turned away. "Tell Orophin to come in."

Legolas left with a silent bow. When he reached the fire, Orophin rose, and passed him without a word. Legolas sank down, staring into the flames, as he heard footsteps approach. Rumil.

"Legolas?"

Legolas snapped to his feet. "Forgive me, Rumil." His voice was strained. "I need to take a walk."

As expected, Rumil did not offer company. Sweet Rumil.

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Orophin entered to see Haldir seated with a glass of wine. "Come, Orophin," he said, gesturing to the opposite chair. "Join me." He handed him a glass and began to pour as Orophin warily sat. "Mirkwood vintage," he explained. "Always thought I'd share it with my brothers when they grew old enough."

"What about Rumil?" Orophin said carefully. Haldir chuckled.

"Rumil got to it decades ago, that pig."

He toasted in silence, and Orophin followed suit. The wine hit heavily, rich and sweet. Haldir drank it down like water.

Orophin studied Haldir. As the older elf began to refill his glass, Orophin's hand shot out across the table to grab Haldir's wrist. "Stop. Stop. I'm sorry. I'm sorry, Haldir. I was wrong."

"Why are you apologizing, Orophin? I am not angry with you." Haldir gently pried Orophin's fingers off.

Orophin grabbed him again, with more force. If anyone in the guard could match Haldir's strength, it was Orophin. "Haldir, please. I'll apologize to Legolas. I'll do anything. Stop."

Haldir finally met his gaze, and it was long and wordless and Orophin wanted to hang his head. Haldir slowly put down the glass, and with a weary sigh, ran a hand over his face.

"Some things never change," he said, a soft whisper. "Rumil still avoids maidens like a plague. You act like a baby version of me. My body still cannot take a drink, but my mind is immune to its haze." He gestured to Orophin's glass. "Good wine, though, isn't it? Thranduil picked it out himself – it's one of his best."

He rose, and swayed. Orophin jumped to his feet but Haldir was already sinking onto his cot. "Secure the flaps on your way out, Orophin." He began to undress.

Orophin stood still, and, bit his lip. "What?" He said tightly. "What is it that you want to say to me, Haldir? You can drop the act now; I am thoroughly remorseful. Don't you want an explanation? An apology?"

Haldir looked up at Orophin. His eyes were clear, though his words were a tired sigh. "No, Orophin. I should be the one to apologize. I am sorry. I am sorry for the poor example. I am sorry I reduced you to acting such a way."

Orophin wanted to hit something. He hated seeing Haldir drunk. He was honest when sober, but when drunk, he was honest on a different note –weak and soft and brimming with gentle whispers and golden memories. "I'm sorry, Haldir," he said with difficulty. He was angry, and he didn't know why; he was angry and he could not hurt Haldir. He swallowed. "I just... didn't want to see you hurting anymore."

"I know." Haldir smiled, full of sadness. "I made you worry, resent, and hate. What wrong you did was not your doing; it was mine. If anyone deserves punishment, it is I."

"Haldir." Orophin approached the cot. "You are only an elf. You cannot continue to punish yourself for her death." He kneeled before his brother, placing his hands on Haldir's knees. The older elf looked down, his gaze flickering in the lamplight. Orophin's voice was soft, pleading. "We are young, but we have lived through enough – don't we deserve to be happy, Haldir?" He squeezed his knees. "You have raised me and Rumil to be safe, strong, and carefree. Don't you, in the end, also deserve to be happy?"

Haldir smiled, and it was fond and gentle. "I am, Orophin. Very happy. When I see how you and Rumil have grown – "

"It's you! I'm talking about you!" Orophin shouted, springing to his feet. "When are you going to let go of your ghosts and start living amongst us? What are you doing to us?"

Haldir was silent. Orophin clipped his words. "Wait, forget that. You don't need new guilt added on." He turned briskly away. "I riled him up to hurt him for hurting you. It's not your fault; it is my childishness. I will go and apologize."

When Haldir's voice called from behind, it was weak and tired. "Orophin."

Orophin stopped, tent flap in his hands.

"Be good to him." A sigh. "He deserves our love."

"Forgive me, Captain; I cannot." Orophin didn't glance back. "What hurts you will get no love from me."

Alone, Haldir watched the wavering flaps. The wine made him dizzy, and his body tingled with numbness. Yet the memories came unbidden, the laughter, the screams, the tears, the embraces. The warmth was still in his arms, her breath gentle upon his head. He took a deep breath, willing the warmth to return. It was so close, her laughter, her smile. Yet – she was gone. Gone.

Orophin was wrong. There was no punishment yet for Haldir; the Valar were waiting. And when it came, which it no doubt would – it would smite him with such pain that there would be endless tears. Haldir closed his eyes.

If the punishment was such that he would be the only one to suffer, that would be enough.

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To Be Continued