LotR fic: Passages, chapters 27-28 [Haldir/Melpomaen, adult]
Title: Passages Chapter 27, "Comfort"; chapter 28, "Midwinter Day" Author: celandineb Fandom: LotR Pairing: Haldir/Melpomaen, plus Legolas Rating: adult Warnings: PWP, angst, very brief rimming Summary: Haldir and Melpomaen find their friendship developing beyond the expected as they travel from the Golden Wood to Dale and back via Mirkwood.
27. Comfort
The season moved inexorably on toward true winter. Though the caverns of Thranduil were kept warmed and well-lighted, it seemed to Haldir that there was a chill sunk into the very stone which no fire could erase.
He said as much to Melpomaen, early one morning as they returned to their room to sleep.
Melpomaen yawned. "I think it's just that being assigned to the evening shift, we sleep through the warmest and brightest part of every day. Perhaps when the schedule changes again after the solstice, you'll feel differently."
Haldir shook his head. "No, it is more than that. I have been on watches before that kept me from seeing daylight, at home in Lórien, and it was not like this. And don't tell me that it was because the Golden Wood is further south," he added, seeing his lover open his mouth to speak. "Thranduil keeps his halls far warmer than the open woods!"
"I was not going to say that," said Melpomaen in a slightly injured tone. "Only to ask you, what then do you think is the cause?"
"I think. . . I think that we are," Haldir almost whispered. "That is to say, I think that what I perceive is not something truly in the realm of the senses, but rather is an echo of someone's feelings. I think it is despair that I sense, and I think I know whence it comes."
"From Legolas."
"Yes."
"But you don't know that, not for certain. Nor would he thank you for interfering, I think. Not that either of us has much opportunity for so doing – have you even seen the captain in the past few weeks? I have not, save perhaps once or twice in passing."
"Nor have I." Haldir's tone was grave, and he held Melpomaen's gaze as he slid into their bed.
Melpomaen blew out the lamp and joined him. "You think he is avoiding us?"
"I don't know. It would hardly need to be deliberate, after all. When I was on the day shift I scarcely saw anyone on the evening watch, except when they relieved us at guard, of course." He rested his head on Melpomaen's shoulder.
Stroking Haldir's hair, Melpomaen said, "Well, what do you want to do, then? Clearly this has been bothering you."
"There's nothing to be done today, but perhaps – I will retire earlier tomorrow, so that I can get up around midday and look for the captain, talk to him. He may be unwilling to say anything, but I would rather make the effort."
"Shouldn't I come, too? If he is in distress, is that not likely my fault more than yours? It was I whose idea it was to interfere, after all."
Haldir laid one hand flat on the smooth skin of Melpomaen's chest. "Not this time, Maen. Legolas might be more willing to speak to one person than two, don't you imagine?"
"I suppose so," said Melpomaen, and tilted his head to kiss Haldir. "Rest well, meldanya."
The next day Haldir was as good as his word, leaving Melpomaen in the common room not long after their watch shift ended and going to bed. He shivered despite the warm woolen blanket as he lay there alone, waiting for sleep to come. This was no physical cold, surely, to affect him so. He longed for Melpomaen to be there, to warm him not just in body but in spirit, but finally he dozed off, half-rousing when his beloved partner came in and moving until he touched warm skin. Comforted, he slept.
He woke when he had intended, at mid-morning, and quietly slipped out from underneath the covers. After several months, he knew the position of every item in the room so well that he needed no light to move about it, though once in the bathing room he closed the door and lighted the candle.
Legolas, Haldir supposed, would be in his own rooms, which doubled as the captain's office. But first, he would break his fast; though it was not a scheduled meal hour for the guards, he was sure he could wheedle something from the cooks.
Making a neat sandwich out of the dark bread and pale sharp cheese, Haldir ate quickly, washing down the last crumbs with hot mint tea. He carried his plate and mug over to the hatch and left them to be washed, then went in search of Legolas.
The knock at his door startled Legolas. He had not been expecting any interruptions this morning; he had already made a round of the guards, and with the deep snow it was unlikely that there would be any strangers who required his attention. He had planned to work on a report for the king today, and it was with more than a little impatience that he said, "Come in."
Haldir entered the room, careful to close the door behind him. He noticed Legolas's knuckles pale as he grasped the arm of his chair, but the captain spoke without a hint of disturbance in his voice. "Haldir. What brings you here? Should you not be asleep?" He gestured to a chair. "Sit down, do please."
Sitting, Haldir said, "You ask what brings me here. Do you not know?"
"No," said Legolas. His gaze was open and direct. "You are not having any difficulties with your duties, or Erentar would have reported it. I have heard of nothing amiss at all with either you or Melpomaen, rather the reverse; Erentar has spoken highly of you both."
"It is nothing to do with myself, or with Maen." Haldir thrust his right hand out into the air between them, turning it slowly from palm up to palm down and back again. "For days now, I have felt cold, even when I stood before a blazing fire. Like a winter with no hope of spring thaw, despair and desperation have come upon me at odd moments – and there is nothing in my own mind that would cause this. Once, yes, indeed for many years these feelings walked with me always, but no longer. It is not my own suffering that troubles me. I think it might be yours, Legolas."
Legolas's eyes were closed, and he swayed slightly in his chair as Haldir ended his words. Without opening his eyes, he said, "Why do you think it mine, rather than another's?"
"Who else? We – I – have disturbed you simply by being here, you cannot deny that, though there was no intent on anyone's part to have it happen. I would not be so affected by any other person here in the caverns, save for Maen; there is none other I know as well."
The sigh that Legolas gave might have traveled all the way from the soles of his feet. "I apologize, Haldir. I would not have troubled you for the world."
"You need not apologize, truly. But can we not discuss matters, perhaps ease them? ‘A trouble shared is a trouble halved,' as the proverb says."
"You know my trouble, and I do not think there is aught you can do to assuage it."
"Come, Legolas, you have lived longer in Middle-earth than I. You can master your emotions, if you will – this is but a fancy, it must and shall pass," said Haldir earnestly. "I wish to be your friend, howsoever much I can, and as your friend I tell you this. Now tell me, does the evening you spent with us disturb you so much still? If that is the case, and there is anything you can think of that Maen or I could do to help you now, be assured that we will gladly do so."
Legolas heard these words and knew they were meant in purest disinterested friendship, but his mind and heart were torn. He had been disturbed by watching Melpomaen and Haldir together, indeed, but what was more troubling to him was that he had to admit that he wanted to be with them again. He knew that this desire was unfitting – he could not interfere with a pair-bonding, and it was unwise to indulge himself in thoughts of what could not be. In the past few weeks he had, with some trepidation, brought himself pleasure on more than one occasion, but that pleasure was tinged with guilt over his imaginings of Haldir at the time.
"Legolas?" Haldir's concerned voice broke into his reverie. "Are you all right?"
To his astonishment Legolas realized that he had bowed his head down to the surface of the desk and wrapped his arms around it without realizing he was doing so. He straightened, tucking a stray lock of hair back behind his ear, and grimaced ruefully. "Apparently not."
Haldir moved from his chair, kneeling on the rug between them, and held out his hand to Legolas. "Come here."
Hesitantly Legolas obeyed him, sitting cross-legged with his back straight and tense. Haldir moved around behind him and slightly to one side. Legolas could feel the other's breath warm on his neck. Strong arms wrapped around his chest, and his heart tried to leap out of it.
"What. . . are you doing?" he managed to say.
Haldir raised one hand to stroke Legolas's temple, then twisted around to press a light kiss to the same spot. "Nothing I would not do for my own brothers, were they in such need. Don't think, Legolas. Just relax."
And – most surprisingly – Legolas found that he could. He decided later that they must have spent nearly an hour so, breathing in rhythms that never quite matched. At first his mind had roiled with fragments of thought, desire and denial, uncertainty and understanding, longing and loss and love all mingling; but after a time, when Haldir made no move either to let go or hold him more closely, Legolas was able to free himself from the tumult of his mind and accept the touch without distress.
Patiently Haldir held him, waiting. He could feel the small movements in Legolas's body as the other Elf shifted, sighed, and finally relaxed into something that seemed like acceptance. Still Haldir held him, until Legolas turned his head and smiled, a smile free from any hint of his earlier wretchedness.
"Thank you," said Legolas softly.
Haldir kissed his temple once more. "You are most welcome, my friend." He paused, looking carefully at Legolas's face. "The love you long for will come to you, someday. Never doubt that. You are too fine a person for it to be otherwise. I believe there is a reason why you have not yet met the one with whom you will bond – I do not know what that purpose might be, but I am certain there is one. We both know that matters might have been different – but again, I say there is a reason why events have fallen out as they have. In the meantime. . . I want nothing but to be your friend, in whatever way you need and is possible."
"I know. . . and I thank you for that," Legolas replied. "Just now I am not sure I know what that would be, but I appreciate your friendship – yours and Melpomaen's both."
Giving Legolas one last quick embrace, Haldir stood. "I had best go now, and let you return to your duties as I must go to mine. I will hope to see you at the mettarë celebrations in a few days?"
"Oh, of course. Everyone will be there for as many hours as they can – haven't you seen the schedule yet? I made certain that the two of you would have the noontime shift, so that you would be able to be present for most of the celebrations, especially in the evening when we greet the first stars."
"Yes, I am glad of that. I will see you then, if not before." Haldir hesitated with his hand on the latch of the door, and added, "Maen would be pleased if you wished to spend time with us again, too."
Heat flooded through Legolas's body at that, but he said only, "When our schedules permit, yes," and watched Haldir leave.
Legolas felt calmer now. Haldir's words had not quite convinced him that he would find a mate someday, but he was grateful for the approbation they showed. More importantly, he realized that he valued the foreign Elf's genuine friendship more than the impossible dream of bonding with him. With an eased heart, he turned back to his work.
Haldir paused in the corridor, considering. There were still several hours remaining before his shift would begin, and Melpomaen would be awake by now. He returned to their room.
Melpomaen had awoken earlier, reaching out sleepily to Haldir, then came abruptly fully awake as he realized that his lover was gone. It was a moment before he remembered that Haldir had gone to speak with Legolas that day. He hoped the conversation was going well, and decided that since he was awake and alone, he would tidy their quarters and bathe before Haldir returned.
As Haldir pushed open the door, he could hear splashing and snatches of song coming from the bathing room. He smiled to himself. Melpomaen was singing a tune that in Lothlórien was traditional to the winter festival.
"You're a bit off-key, meldanya," he said, leaning against the doorway into the bathing room.
Melpomaen put out his tongue. "Look who's talking. I've heard you sing, Dír. A raven has nothing on you when it comes to croaking."
"Oh, no?" Haldir was rapidly removing his clothes. "I beg to differ. I used to sing with Rúmil and Orophin and we always were praised." He stepped into the water.
"That was their talent, not yours," countered Melpomaen, pulling Haldir towards himself and kissing him deeply. Breaking free, he added, "You have other talents."
"I do, eh?" Haldir drew one finger along Melpomaen's jaw. "Such as?"
"If I told you, you would get a swelled head from all the praise. Although I fear it is too late," Melpomaen glanced down, "to prevent swelling in other areas."
"So it is."
They drew together, legs entwined, torsos pressed close, simply embracing and drawing comfort and joy from the other's presence.
"Your talk with Legolas must have gone all right," guessed Melpomaen, speaking into Haldir's shoulder. He felt Haldir shrug.
"I hope so. He has clearly been very troubled of late, but I think that may be past now."
"What did you say?"
"I didn't say much, really, except to reassure him that I am his friend. Mostly I just held him, tried to give him solace."
"And that worked, did it? I'm surprised it didn't backfire on you. If I were in love with someone unattainable, I don't think that an embrace would be comforting; rather the reverse."
"Legolas isn't in love with me," said Haldir. "He thought he was, but it isn't so. He's merely confused about his emotions because he is lonely, and something in me appealed to him. Which is why I am sure that he will someday find a partner, as I found you – he is not one to be alone forever, he enjoys the presence of others too much. I told him again that I am sure there is a reason why he has not yet bonded, even if that reason is not yet clear. I think he might have accepted that explanation this time."
Melpomaen's expression was disappointed.
"What? What's wrong, Maen? Surely you're glad that this seems to have been resolved and that Legolas will be less unhappy?"
"Yes, of course I'm glad of that," said Melpomaen, "but I had rather wished. . ."
"Wished what?"
"I did hope that he might. . . visit with us again. I enjoyed that evening a great deal, but if he has realized that he really isn't in love with you, then it seems unlikely."
"Perhaps, perhaps not," said Haldir. "I did tell him that you would like it if he would spend an evening with us, and he seemed to find the idea appealing. Who knows – perhaps having the complications of emotion lessened, it might be more attractive rather than less."
"Mm, well then. I'll tell you, though, what's attractive to me right now is you, Dír. May I invite you to join me in bed for a while?"
"You may indeed, and I shall gladly accept your invitation."
They gripped each other's hands, bracing to stand up, and stepped out of the tub. Haldir tossed a towel to his lover, taking another for himself. Bodies dried though hair still damp, they moved out to the other room.
Haldir lay down on the bed, pulling Melpomaen to him and thrusting his left leg between Melpomaen's, so that their hard members pressed into the hollows of each other's hips. He sighed and embraced Melpomaen more tightly.
"I wished that it was you I was holding, this morning with Legolas," he murmured.
Melpomaen was running his hands up and down Haldir's back, the light touch sending shivers along Haldir's spine and down into his groin. He hummed in pleasure as Melpomaen parted his buttocks to probe between them, and shifted to allow him easier access.
"I am here with you now, Dír. Do you want me. . .?" Melpomaen reached for the flask of oil as Haldir expressed his assent by turning until he was on his side, his back towards Melpomaen and his right knee pulled up to his waist. Melpomaen slicked oil on himself, then used two fingers to ensure that Haldir would be ready for him. He nudged the tip of his organ against Haldir's tight orifice, pushing only slightly, until all at once Haldir relaxed and he slid into the hot silky sheath. He moved gently in and out, changing the angle of each stroke by a fraction until a gasp from Haldir told him where it would be best for his lover.
Haldir arched his back as Melpomaen entered him, all his attention focused on his partner and the pleasure they could bring each other. When Melpomaen rubbed his most sensitive spot within, he gasped involuntarily. Further thrusts brought more sounds from his throat, urging Melpomaen on. Haldir reached to grasp Melpomaen's hand, bringing it down to soothe his swollen member. Deliberately he tightened himself around Melpomaen, eliciting a gasp in return, then let the pressure diminish again so that Melpomaen could continue moving.
Melpomaen nipped at Haldir's shoulder. He propped himself up on his free elbow and with some difficulty brushed the golden hair aside, exposing a tantalizing expanse of neck and ear, and lapped at Haldir's earlobe, exhaling warmly. Haldir squirmed under the tickling sensation, pushing his backside tighter against Melpomaen's groin. Next Melpomaen trailed kisses down Haldir's neck, causing Haldir to shiver as cool air evaporated the wetness. It sent a fire to his nether parts, though, and he tightened his grip over Melpomaen's hand, wordlessly encouraging him to stroke harder and faster there.
Although he would have liked to lengthen their lovemaking, Melpomaen realized his partner's need and responded to it, murmuring, "Now, Dír, yes, all right," as he worked his hand up and down Haldir's shaft, and Haldir shook as he spent in a long slow pulse into Melpomaen's palm and the linen sheets.
After one last caressing stroke, Melpomaen grasped Haldir's hip and thrust against him, deep and unhurried, reveling in the feeling of his lover's passage open to him. He thought back to the evening that Legolas had spent with them, watching, and imagined the captain there again. The idea increased his excitement until he could delay his pleasure no more, and he clasped Haldir to him, a muffled moan escaping his lips as he felt orgasm overcome him.
"Too bad that we have duty today," said Melpomaen eventually, after his breathing had slowed to normal. "I could happily spend the whole day here in bed with you."
"So could I," Haldir admitted, "but we cannot. There's time to take a quick dip and wash off the sweat, and get a bite from the mess hall, but then we need to report to Erentar. It will be mettarë in a few days, though, and we're down for the midday watch – so we'll have most of the holiday free. It sounds as though the celebrations here will be most enjoyable, but I should think we can find a couple of hours for ourselves."
"At least," said Melpomaen, kissing him. "We may never have a holiday together again like this, so we should celebrate it to the fullest extent, wouldn't you agree?"
28. Midwinter Day
The day of mettarë, the midwinter festival, was now upon them. Haldir woke at dawn, though in the caverns he could not see the sun rising. He pressed his body against Melpomaen's and kissed his cheek, nuzzling his ear. "Happy mettarë, meldanya," he said softly.
Melpomaen yawned and stretched, wrapping an arm around Haldir. "Happy mettarë to you," he said. "When does our watch start today?"
"Late morning," Haldir reminded him. "We still have several hours till then."
"Do we indeed?" Melpomaen's voice was knowing. "And how shall we fill those long, dull hours?"
"I'm certain we can think of something," said Haldir, letting his fingers trail along Melpomaen's bare chest. He snuggled closer.
Melpomaen laughed.
"What is it?" asked Haldir. "What amuses you so?"
"I was just thinking how queer it is to be here, in Mirkwood, and to be with you this way. A year ago I would never have imagined it."
"Nor I," said Haldir in contented tones, "but I am very glad we are here together."
Smoothing a stray lock back from Haldir's brow, Melpomaen kissed his eyelids. "I would not trade this for anything else in the world," he murmured, and kissed him lingeringly on the lips.
Pulling back a little, Haldir said, "Not until I've rinsed my mouth."
Melpomaen shrugged and said, "As you choose." He waited as Haldir rose from the bed, lighted the candle, and went to fetch a cup of water. He admired the lines of Haldir's body, the firm muscles across his chest and ridging his abdomen, the smooth pale skin, darker on his arms where it was more exposed. As he watched Haldir walk back, he felt desire stir. He sipped from the cup Haldir offered, then setting it down, held out a hand to his lover.
Haldir understood the wordless request and slipped beneath the covers, kneeling above Melpomaen with a knee on either side of his hips, their groins just brushing. The light touch tantalized, and Melpomaen reached out to take Haldir's waist and press them more firmly together. The urgency of his passion still surprised him sometimes. He could feel Haldir hard against him as well, the quickening pulse of his desire.
"Meldanya," Melpomaen whispered. "Dír, my beloved."
Haldir looked at him, the eyes under the level golden brows dark pools in the flickering light. Melpomaen felt he could almost drown in them.
"Meldanya Maen," Haldir whispered back, and leaned down to kiss him delicately.
Melpomaen felt Haldir's tongue slide between his lips and open his mouth. He felt closer to his lover while kissing like this, he thought, than at almost any other time. Even being inside Haldir, or the reverse, did not always bring this sense of closeness, of intimacy. He responded in kind, and their tongues entwined for a long moment before Haldir broke off and looked deep into Melpomaen's eyes once again.
"I do not know what the traditions are here," Haldir said, "about giving a gift to a loved one on mettarë, but I have one for you. Would you like it now or later?"
Melpomaen considered it. "Later, I think," he said at last. "If there is some traditional time to exchange gifts here, we should participate, and if not, I have no doubt that it will keep. I have one for you as well."
Haldir nodded. "That is what I thought, but I felt that you should have the choice." He leaned down and rubbed his cheek against Melpomaen's. "Shall I give you instead a gift that I could not give in the presence of others, one that requires no unwrapping?"
Melpomaen drummed his fingers on Haldir's shoulder, pretending to think. "Oh, I don't know. It doesn't sound like much of a present."
Chuckling, Haldir said, "It's nothing you haven't had before, that is true, but it will also never wear out."
"I know it is a present that I will enjoy receiving, then."
"So I should hope," said Haldir. He dipped his head, kissing Melpomaen at the sensitive spot in the hollow between neck and shoulder. His tongue traced a warm wet pattern across Melpomaen's throat, and the dark-haired Elf shivered in anticipation as he felt Haldir's teeth scrape across his nipple and then his mouth suckling at it before moving across to the other.
He tangled his hands in Haldir's hair and used one thumb to trace the outline of Haldir's ear, while the other hand stroked the nape of his lover's neck.
After lavishing attention on Melpomaen's chest, Haldir slipped lower, seeking out the hollow of Melpomaen's navel and tasting it. Melpomaen could not restrain a gurgled laugh.
"Sorry," he said as Haldir looked up with a quizzical expression on his face. "Tickles."
Haldir grinned. "That's all right," he said, and did the same again, just to hear the laughter rumbling through Melpomaen's body. His lover's member was firm against his chest and he rocked from side to side a little to show that he was not unmindful of it, as he continued to explore the skin of Melpomaen's belly. Then he slid a hand beneath Melpomaen's buttocks and pulled them closer, breathing warmly and feeling Melpomaen's organ twitch in response, but he ignored that for the moment. Instead, going further down and taking the sac below into his mouth, gently mouthing, with his free hand he rubbed the skin between there and the puckered hole beneath.
He pulled away long enough to ask Melpomaen to pass him a pillow or two, which he put underneath his lover's hips to raise him up. Then, remembering what Melpomaen had done once before to him, he traced a line with his tongue down to the tight opening and licked at it, eliciting a startled but pleased sound from the top of the bed. Wetting one fingertip in his mouth, Haldir placed it there with the slightest of pressure, and waited until all at once Melpomaen relaxed and let him inside. With no oil yet, Haldir took great care not to push too hard or too quickly, but nudged along the passage until he could feel through the membrane the spot that would bring his lover great pleasure. He glanced up to see that Melpomaen's eyes were closed, his head thrown back, and his chest heaving quickly.
Now Haldir licked at Melpomaen's straining shaft and took its tip into his mouth, rolling his tongue over the loose soft skin and tasting the first hints of bitter seed. He moved leisurely, to prolong Melpomaen's delight, and when his lover began to pump his hips Haldir withdrew both finger and mouth and knelt up to reach for the oil flask.
"Turn over," Haldir murmured, and, his eyes still closed, Melpomaen did so.
The sight of him – hips raised, legs parted, ready and waiting – brought Haldir to an almost painful hardness. Quickly he applied the oil. With one swift and sure thrust he was within Melpomaen's tight hot tunnel, and felt rather than heard his groan of pleasure. They moved together, rocking in union, each shifting motion bringing its own moment of joy. Haldir stroked Melpomaen as they moved until he could scarcely tell where his own skin ended and his lover's began.
Melpomaen felt surrounded, embraced, wholly completed by Haldir's love, trembling in an ecstasy so profound that his orgasm, when it came, was almost unnecessary. His cry of Haldir's name was muffled against the bed.
Haldir's skin was flushed and damp as he continued to thrust, his need rising to urgent heights, until at last he quivered in release and let himself fall forward, still sheathed within his lover's body. He rolled them off the pillows and curled them up, spoon fashion, his chest against Melpomaen's back, breathing ragged.
When their heartbeats had slowed, he stroked Melpomaen's hair and whispered to him, "Was that not a good gift to celebrate the end of this season together?"
Melpomaen nodded and reached up to entwine their fingers, bringing Haldir's hand to his mouth and kissing each fingertip.
After a time they arose, washed, and dressed. Melpomaen stripped the bed of its linens while Haldir brought clean sheets from the chest, and together they remade the bed freshly for that evening.
They had only a short watch shift that day. Haldir knew they had Legolas to thank for the fact that, from early afternoon, they were free to join in the festivities in Thranduil's halls. The Great Hall, where the king held audience, had been transformed with boughs of evergreens, trailing bittersweet and branches of red-berried holly lending variety. Every lamp and candle in its sconce was lit – it seemed nearly as bright indoors as out in the pale winter sunshine.
There appeared to be no particular order to the events of the day. A space had been cleared outside for several weapons competitions, including an ongoing archery contest. Melpomaen entered that, but though his arm was healed from the injury he had sustained on their travels, he had not yet completely regained his old abilities. He took his loss with good grace, however, encouraging Haldir to try a turn. Haldir demurred, but agreed to try his skill at the knife-fighting competition. Melpomaen watched, trying not to show his admiration and pride too obviously, as Haldir won several bouts. His next competitor was none other than Captain Legolas.
The captain fought with not one, but two knives, and Melpomaen found himself both fascinated and taken aback by the ferocious grace with which he moved. He decided that if Haldir could be compared to a great mastiff, strong and fierce, Legolas would be a wild cat: lithe, sleek, and unpredictably dangerous.
Haldir pressed hard, but in the end, Legolas had the victory. They clasped hands in salute, and Legolas turned to meet the next Elf or Man willing to pit himself against the king's son as Haldir moved away toward Melpomaen, wiping his face.
"I knew the captain was skilled, but I had no idea how skilled," he said ruefully.
"You have nothing to be ashamed of," Melpomaen assured him. "I have never seen you fight better, and twice you nearly took him."
"Thank you." Haldir hugged Melpomaen, then let him loose, remembering where they were. "Shall we get something to drink?" he suggested. "After that, I feel as if I could manage two flagons without a quiver."
Back in the Great Hall they accepted mugs of hot spiced cider from a smiling girl who kissed them each on the cheek and wished them a happy mettarë. Haldir drained his at once and had her refill it, then they moved off among the crowd in the hall.
The air was sweet with the sounds of singing from one end of the room, accompanied by harp and pipe. They could tell that the tune was a traditional one for winter; it was a melody known in the Golden Wood also, but the harmonies sung here were different. Haldir and Melpomaen moved closer to listen. As they worked their way through the crowd, a voice hailed them.
"How fare you two?"
It was Vida, the woman they had brought to the king's caverns after the loss of her son, and with her her husband Baldor. They exchanged mettarë greetings all around, Melpomaen stumbling slightly over the Common Tongue.
"I had not heard that the search party had returned," said Haldir to Baldor, with a slight lift of inquiry in his voice.
The Man shook his head. "Only a few of us. We are to replenish our supplies and leave again in four days' time."
"No success?" said Melpomaen.
"I fear not." Baldor flicked his eyes at his wife. "We have been close to catching the beast several times, but always he has eluded us, and the woods are filled with dread rumors. The great spiders are danger enough, but this unknown creature. . . Still, we have hope to find him before spring. In the snow he must leave tracks."
The two Elves nodded in sympathy rather than agreement, and Haldir sought to turn the conversation to more pleasant matters.
"Are you enjoying this festival?" he inquired.
"Oh, yes," said Vida, "we have had a good time in the kitchens preparing all the special foods for the occasion – sweetmeats of more sorts than I had ever imagined, and great pies of game, and roast birds with sauces of every description. Luckily most of it could be cooked in advance, and free us to come celebrate the turn of the year. How about you two?"
"We had our duties earlier tody," Haldir said. "Perhaps we were lucky with that, being strangers. But if you don't mind – we were going to listen to the singing. We are familiar with the tune, but this harmony is new, and we should like to hear it."
"Please do, do not let us keep you," said Vida.
Baldor added, "A pleasure to see you again."
"And you too," said Haldir.
"Good luck on your hunt," Melpomaen said.
"Thank you." Baldor bowed. "A happy mettarë to you both."
When they reached the corner where the singing was taking place, Melpomaen and Haldir realized that it was a most informal arrangement. Any person who wished to sing or play simply would, and then leave when he chose. After one song was finished, another would begin. Melpomaen could not tell if the songs were being sung in a traditional order, or if it was merely a question of what melody first came to someone's mind. When another song began that seemed familiar, the two Lórien Elves joined in softly, singing the harmonies they knew when those did not conflict with the ones sung here.
Haldir had not realized before just what a fine clear tenor voice Melpomaen had. While traveling they had sung little, except for the occasional walking song, not wishing to draw unwanted attention to themselves as they passed, and even here in Mirkwood Melpomaen had rarely participated in such singing as happened of an evening in the guards' common room. Haldir muted his own voice to better hear and enjoy his partner's.
Someone else evidently appreciated Melpomaen's ability as well, for as the song ended, one of the pipers laid aside her instrument and came over, introducing herself as Dúlin, and asking Melpomaen where he had been hiding his glorious voice.
Melpomaen shrugged. "In the guards' quarters, I suppose."
Dúlin shook her head, saying, "That harmony. That was beautiful. Did you make it up yourself?"
"No. . ." Melpomaen began.
"Well, come and sing it for me again. I want to note it down."
Melpomaen looked helplessly at Haldir as Dúlin tugged at his hand.
"Go on," Haldir laughed. "I will still be here somewhere when she is through with you." He watched them vanish through one of the archways, out of the hall.
His cup was empty, and Haldir decided a bit more cider would be in order. He made his way back towards the table, going along the other side of the room this time, past the king's great chair. Thranduil saw him coming and beckoned as he passed.
"Happy mettarë," said the king gravely, "honored stranger. Or perhaps not so much of a stranger now? Honored guest, rather."
"I thank you," Haldir bowed, "and wish a happy mettarë to you and yours as well, my lord."
"I believe that my son has conveyed our invitation to you and your friend to stay, if you choose, has he not?" Thranduil asked.
"He did, thank you, my lord. We are considering whether to do so. In any case we would have to leave for a time to complete the commission that I undertook and that brought us here to begin with, but before we depart we will certainly inform you and Legolas of our decision."
The king nodded. "I understand. Enjoy yourself this evening, Haldir."
Haldir bowed once again and left. He did appreciate the king's offer and knew that there could be many advantages for them to remain in – or rather, return to – Mirkwood, but his heart yearned for the mellyrn of his homeland and for his family, and he did not think he would ever be happy were he to be parted from them forever. Much as he loved Melpomaen, and much as he enjoyed their passion as he had done that morning, he knew that over time it was more than simple lust that brought them together. A bond such as theirs was a thing of the heart and mind and fëa, not solely of the body, and while he would regret the loss of that part of their love when they returned to Lórien, and Lórindol's company, he would regret far more not returning. But this was something he had yet to discuss openly with his lover, and today was not the day he would choose to do it.
Having recharged his cup, Haldir moved on to listen to some storytelling in another part of the hall. Many of them spoke in verse, but Haldir thought that the most vivid story was one told in prose. It was recited by an Elf with white hair, which she had braided in a coronet that shone like silver in the light of the lamps. Her tale was of Oropher, Thranduil's father, and the Elves he led to Mordor as part of the Last Alliance. Haldir listened intently. He had heard stories of the battles against the Dark Lord before, many times, but this tale gave him a new perspective on the events. When she had finished, he caught her eye and bowed in silent reverence. She blushed and smiled, understanding his appreciation, and then turned to listen to the next storyteller.
After a time, Haldir became aware of someone at his elbow, and he turned to greet Legolas. They moved away from that part of the room, not wishing to disturb anyone.
"Did you conquer all later comers as readily as you defeated me?" asked Haldir, a smile dancing in his eyes.
Legolas chuckled. "Ah, most of them far more easily, I must say. You put up an excellent fight for one not used to fighting with one knife against two. I must congratulate you again on your ability." He looked around. "But where is Melpomaen?"
Haldir rolled his eyes. "A woman called Dúlin dragged him off to sing her some harmonies for a song."
"Oh, no!" The expression on Legolas's face was a study in amused dismay. "He'll be lucky if she lets him free before mid-night. She is a distant cousin of mine, and finds nothing so compelling as music, especially anything new to her. We may be obliged to go root him out of her chamber for the salutation of the stars at dusk."
"Yes," agreed Haldir, "I am sure he would not want to miss that, for it is something neither of us has ever seen."
"It is beautiful," said Legolas, his eyes distant. "Even when the skies have been cloudy for days, there always seems to be a break and a glimpse of at least one star. Since today was clear, we will delight in the whole of the heavens." He dragged himself back to practicalities. "It is a simple thing, really. Everyone will go out just as the sun sets, and wait in silence. When the last light of day is gone, there is singing in praise of the Kindler, who set the stars in place. After that, back inside for more music, feasting, dancing. . ." He looked at Haldir, his face troubled. "And gift-giving. Is that a custom among your people, whoever they are, that you give something to those closest to you, to mark the turn of the year?"
"We do have that custom, and I have something to give Maen. I am glad to know when it would be proper to give it to him."
"Perhaps we should fetch it now – and rescue him from Dúlin, as well, so that if he has a gift for you he can be prepared," Legolas said.
"A good idea. You will have to show me where Dúlin might be – I certainly have no idea, I simply told Melpomaen to meet me back here in the hall when they were finished," Haldir remarked.
"Certainly. This way." Legolas led them down several branching corridors and knocked on a door. "Dúlin? I am sorry, but you cannot monopolize our guest for the entire evening," he said, entering a room crowded with assorted instruments, musical scores in varying states of completion, and some items that Haldir could not recognize.
Melpomaen and Dúlin were sitting at a large table. "Wait a moment, I am just finishing. . . there." She set down her quill and carefully stoppered the ink bottle. "Melpomaen is going to teach me all the songs he knows," she said triumphantly to Legolas. "He knows a completely different set of verses to the ‘Doriath Carol,' can you imagine?"
"Yes, cousin, but now he must come with us. It is not long until sunset, you know – you were not going to miss the rest of the evening's events, were you? Melpomaen will still be here tomorrow, and next week, and next month, for you to learn every word and harmony he can recall."
"All right," Dúlin said regretfully. "When can you come back, Melpomaen?"
"Ah – perhaps the day after next? In the late afternoon, for an hour or two before I must stand watch. Would that suit you?"
"If it must. I will see you then, here in my rooms." She turned back to the score before her, uncapping the ink and making a few minor corrections, clearly no longer aware of anyone else's presence.
Back in the corridor, Haldir raised an eyebrow at Melpomaen. "Well?"
"She is quite – intense, in her passion for music. But a great artist. She played several of her instruments for me, including one I would like to learn myself sometime. She called it a cittern, I think that was the word. (1) It had a pleasant sound, and one could play it while also singing."
Melpomaen seemed to have caught his hostess' enthusiasm, and Haldir smiled to hear him. "I am glad you had such a pleasant time."
"But it's almost time for the salutation of the stars, is it not?" Melpomaen asked. "That is why you came to find me?"
"We have to go to our room to fetch our gifts first," Haldir told him. "Legolas says that traditionally, those are given shortly after singing to the stars, and we should have them with us."
"It is not of great importance," Legolas said, "but I thought you would want to participate with everyone else."
"Thank you," said Melpomaen. "I do indeed."
Legolas waited in the hallway as first Haldir, then Melpomaen went into their room. He could not see that Haldir was carrying anything at all, and decided that whatever his gift for Melpomaen was, it was small enough to fit in the pouch on his belt. Melpomaen, on the other hand, brought out a largish cloth-wrapped parcel, bound about with a blue cord.
"Ready?" Legolas inquired. "You'll be able to leave that in the Great Hall, Melpomaen. No one will disturb it there."
Footnote: (1) A cittern was a medieval instrument, shaped like a lute. Its strings were made of wire and it was played with a plectrum or quill.