LotR fic: Passages, chapters 30-32 [Haldir/Melpomaen, adult]
Title: Passages Chapter 30, "Conflicting Desires"; chapter 31, "Decision"; chapter 32, "To Greet the Spring" Author: celandineb Fandom: LotR Pairing: Haldir/Melpomaen, plus Legolas Rating: adult Warnings: PWP, angst, 69, mutual masturbation (poly) Summary: Haldir and Melpomaen find their friendship developing beyond the expected as they travel from the Golden Wood to Dale and back via Mirkwood.
30. Conflicting Desires
The air was as cold, the snow as deep as they had been for weeks, but steadily the days were lengthening. Now that they were again assigned to a daytime watch, Haldir noticed it. He and Melpomaen had not yet discussed what they would do when spring came. They would leave, of course, and return to Lothlórien to deliver the message from King Bard of Dale to Lord Celeborn, but after that?
Haldir had hesitated to bring up the subject, for he knew what Melpomaen would prefer, and he had not wished to quarrel with his lover. He did not wish to do so now, but the conversation was not something that could be put off much longer.
Melpomaen had been thinking along similar lines. He, too, had been watching the sun steer her course further to the north day by day. Winter would last longer here in Mirkwood than it did at home, but soon enough the spring thaw would arrive, the snow and ice would melt, and they would be able to make their departure and travel southward. He knew they must leave, but he wanted to return. Melpomaen resolved to raise the question with Haldir that same evening.
After supper they spent an hour or so in the common room, during which Haldir played chess with Legolas – Legolas won, narrowly – and Melpomaen sang with Meneldil, Belegorn, and several others. Once they had returned to their room, Melpomaen spoke.
"I enjoyed this evening, didn't you, Haldir?"
"Well enough," said Haldir, whose back was turned and who was rummaging through the chest, looking for a his red tunic.
"You're not upset because you lost your game, are you?" asked Melpomaen.
"No, of course not." Haldir shrugged. "But it was just an evening, like any other."
Melpomaen stretched and looked around the room. "I have been finding our situation here very congenial. It isn't that I care nothing for the Golden Wood," he hastened to add, "but it is pleasant to sleep in a bed, with you, and to eat hot meals every day, and be able to laugh and talk and make music in the evenings, without the need for caution all the time."
"I suppose so," said Haldir.
"So I was thinking that we should talk about that," Melpomaen said, throwing himself onto the bed.
"About what?" Haldir asked, though he guessed.
"About what we will do when spring comes. Have you not enjoyed our time here? Would you not consider returning?"
Haldir frowned a little, and sighed, and sat down on the bed next to Melpomaen, taking his hand and entwining Melpomaen's fingers with his own. "It has been a good winter," he agreed, "but. . ."
"But?" queried Melpomaen.
"But Mirkwood is not my home, and I do not think it could ever be. It is not our home," he amended.
Now it was Melpomaen's turn to sigh. "It is my home as much as Lórien is. I am not as close to my brother and sister as you are to your brothers, and my parents have both departed to the West. Certainly this is more our home than the Golden Wood, where you know full well we could not be together in the same way." He brought Haldir's hand to his lips, kissing each fingertip. "Would you not miss that?"
Haldir traced the outline of Melpomaen's lips. "I would, of course, but there are other things to consider."
"Such as what?" said Melpomaen in exasperation.
"Such as responsibility, and duty, to ourselves and our people," Haldir said.
"I do not see how it could be construed irresponsible to return here," Melpomaen responded. "We will complete the task you undertook for Lord Celeborn, but why not then resign from the border guard of Lórien and come instead to defend the people of Mirkwood? If anything, the power of Lady Galadriel makes the folk there safer than aught we could do for them."
Haldir acknowledged there might be truth in that.
"So why do you not wish to return here, meldanya, when there are so many reasons to do so?" Melpomaen ticked them off on his fingers, one by one. "Here we can be together as bond-partners and not have to worry to any great extent what others will think. Moreover if we return, not only would we have to conceal our bond, we would not even be able to make love, not if we stay in the border guard. You told me of the effects of lembas, and I have seen them for myself as well. King Thranduil himself has asked us to return, a compliment not lightly to be dismissed. The company here is as agreeable as Lórindol's, back home, and our skills are valued. Indeed they are probably more needed here than there. Against all that, why would you wish to stay away?"
Again Haldir sighed. "What you say is true, Maen. And yet. . ." he gestured at the walls of the room. "I do not think that I could bear to live forever in caverns. It may suit the Dwarves well, but it is not the life for an Elf, at least, not for me. All my years I have lived in sunshine and starlight among the trees, and I miss them. I miss my family as well. I would not be happy, not seeing them again."
"You could visit," suggested Melpomaen, though even as he spoke he saw Haldir shaking his head.
"It would not be the same," Haldir replied. "I know this is hard for you to understand – you are so much younger than your brother and sister – but it is true nonetheless."
Melpomaen exhaled slowly, considering whether or not he should ask his next question. He decided that he did want to know the answer. "Am I not as important to you as your family?"
Haldir flinched. "Of course you are, meldanya. You cannot doubt that you mean more to me than anyone." His words ended on an upward note, questioning.
"Do you not want to be able to love me openly? That is what I wish for with you," said Melpomaen, a betraying quaver in his voice.
"But that cannot last forever. You know what happens with wedded couples; after a time the physical love between them becomes less important, and they share other interests and passions instead."
"Regardless of physical passion," Melpomaen said, "their love and bondedness is known and accepted by others. In Lórien ours would not be."
"If we were to leave Lórien now, though, we might not ever have a chance to return. Were we able to see the future, to say yes, in a hundred years we would go back and all would be as it is today, then perhaps I would be more willing – but I would greatly regret it, if it should happen that we could not return there. Mirkwood seems now to be hold more freedom for us, but there may be constraints here that we do not yet know or understand." Haldir's voice was somber.
"Legolas does not seem to think that, not for us, not if we're discreet," argued Melpomaen.
"But think of how unhappy Legolas has been," said Haldir. "Does that not suggest that there are pressures here that we cannot see?"
"He has been happier of late, though; if we can help make him happy, should we not stay?"
Haldir answered, "We cannot be responsible for someone else's happiness."
"Why not?" asked Melpomaen. "Do I not make you happy, and you me?"
"But we are bonded. That is a different case," said Haldir.
Melpomaen frowned. "I don't see why. Friendship is important as well."
"I do not understand why you are so concerned about Legolas," said Haldir. "To begin with you didn't seem to like him very well; you seemed worried that he was interested in me, though you knew nothing could come of it. What is the change? I saw you watching him, on mettarë night."
"What? As I came to know him, my opinion of him changed, is all. You cannot be jealous, Dír. You know you have no cause, any more than I would."
Embarrassed, Haldir said, "No. I know that, really, but it does seem strange to me."
"You do not wish to leave on account of Legolas, do you?"
"No," said Haldir. "I was not thinking of Legolas at all when I explained my reasons for leaving." He bit his lip. "I enjoy his company, and I know that you do too, but consider. He treats us with favor, as friends, in whom he can confide, but in part that is because we are not his father's subjects or a permanent addition to those under his command. Were we to become so, he could not treat us in the same way. You know that. For me, if not perhaps for you, his friendship has been one of the best things about our stay here – if I could not have that, Mirkwood would seem even more alien to me."
"That may be true," admitted Melpomaen. "You're right that he would have to change how he acted, if we were to stay. But I still think the benefits would be greater here than in Lórien. Will you not consider?"
"Of course I will," promised Haldir, "if you will as well. We could," he hesitated, "we could think of leaving the guard company, at home, and return to dwell in the city. Then at least we would be able to make love, if it's that important to you."
"Is it not to you?" Melpomaen was hurt, and it showed in his face. "Do you not feel the same desire, the same passion as I?"
"I do, but I know that even such passion will someday fade. There is more to our love than that."
"But why should we give it up before we wish to?" Melpomaen said.
"Which is why I suggested that we could return to Caras Galadhon and find something else to do with our lives besides being in the border guard," said Haldir patiently. "I have served in it for long and long. It would occasion no comment were I to decide that at last I wished to try something different."
"That is not true for me," Melpomaen pointed out. "I have only been in the guard for a few years. People might talk if I were to leave so soon, especially if I were to leave with you."
"Yes, they might," said Haldir, "but let them talk. It would only be a nine days' wonder."
"I think that you overestimate their tolerance," said Melpomaen, shaking his head. "Do you really wish to take that risk? It was you who first made me realize how little a bond such as ours would be accepted by our people, and now you say that they would ignore it?"
"I wish. . ." Haldir stopped and swallowed. "I wish we did not have to worry about it. I still wish, sometimes, that I were other than what I am."
Melpomaen put his arms around Haldir and held him tight. "I do not," he said softly.
Haldir essayed a wry smile. "Thank you, Maen." He leaned his head on Melpomaen's shoulder, his hair falling down across Melpomaen's chest.
"Would you like me to comb your hair?" said Melpomaen, wanting to leave the painful subject for a time.
"That would be nice," said Haldir.
"I think the comb is in the other room. I'll get it." When Melpomaen returned, he sat tailor-fashion behind Haldir on the bed and began loosening the braids that confined his long locks. He drew the comb through carefully, teasing out the occasional tangle, until the heavy golden mass hung smooth and shining down Haldir's back. Melpomaen slipped his hands underneath it and brushed his fingertips over the back of Haldir's neck, parting the hair and leaning over to kiss the skin thus revealed.
Haldir made a humming sound of pleasure and Melpomaen tilted his own head to lick at Haldir's earlobe, his hands sliding down Haldir's chest, sensing both breath and heartbeat quickening.
"Would you really be willing to give this up?" Melpomaen whispered.
His only answer just then was a muffled groan. Haldir twisted around in his embrace so that their lips met, kissing Melpomaen with urgent hungry kisses until the younger Elf's breath was taken away.
Their lovemaking had grown a little – not stale, but predictable, perhaps, of late, in Melpomaen's view. The first heady months of learning new things about each other had passed, and they had fallen into patterns beyond which they rarely moved. Not since the winter festival, when Legolas had visited them, had Melpomaen felt the kind of yearning he experienced now, in part due to his reaction to their discussion. The thought of not being able to take pleasure with Haldir made him value it the more at this moment.
So he responded to Haldir with as much force and passion as his lover could possibly wish – licking, sucking, biting at his lips until they were swollen and tender as a sun-ripened berry.
Haldir fumbled at the thong that bound the end of Melpomaen's braid, tugging it free and running his fingers through to unravel the twists. Melpomaen caught his breath. He loved the feel of Haldir's fingers in his hair, along his neck and scalp and ears. Haldir's eyes were half-closed, his skin flushed. Melpomaen breathed into his ear, "Dír."
"Hmm?"
"Let's go into the bathing room."
"All right," said Haldir, getting up and stretching sensuously. He followed Melpomaen into the other room, admiring the sheen of his loose dark hair, falling in ripples across his slender back, and the movement of his hips and shoulders as he walked.
Melpomaen had caught up the comb, and now he handed it to Haldir with the slightest hint of pleading in his expression as he began to take off his clothes. Haldir nodded. He laid it aside for the moment as he also stripped, then stepped into the tub after Melpomaen and began running the comb through his dampened locks.
The warmth of the water soothed, easing the tensions that were as yet unresolved between them. The feeling of urgency faded. Melpomaen leaned back against Haldir.
"I cannot comb your hair very well like this," Haldir pointed out.
"That's all right," said Melpomaen in comfortable tones. "You can finish later, perhaps. I would just as soon that you simply hold me for a little while."
Haldir put his arms around Melpomaen, clasping him from ribs to waist. He drew his knees closer together until they touched the outsides of Melpomaen's thighs. "Like this?"
"Yes, that's good," said Melpomaen, resting his head on Haldir's shoulder. Haldir could feel the pulse of blood under Melpomaen's skin where it pressed against him. It was comforting to know that whatever they finally chose to do, they would be together.
After some moments of silence, Melpomaen spoke. "What do you want, Haldir?"
Haldir had nearly dozed off in the warmth, but now he startled awake. "What do I want?" He shifted his seat slightly. "Some things that I have and others that I do not and cannot have. I have you," he tightened his arms around his lover, "and that means a great deal to me, after waiting for you for so long."
"Then what is it that you want and cannot have?" persisted Melpomaen, wondering and dreading what the answer might be. He was not prepared for the one he heard.
"Two things most especially. I would like to be free of the fear that my people, even my own kindred, will reject me for what I am," Haldir's voice broke on the words, but he steadied it and continued, "and – you will doubtless think this strange – I would have liked to have children."
Melpomaen sat very still at that. He could not think of how to respond, for although he knew that he bore no blame for how their people would think of them, nor for the fact that he could never give a child to his beloved partner, he felt obscurely responsible nonetheless. There was nothing he could say to Haldir to make the other Elf feel better, and so he remained silent. After a moment he turned a little in Haldir's embrace, kissing his cheek and then pressing his own cheek to Haldir's shoulder.
Haldir held Melpomaen close, and Melpomaen knew his lover understood what he had not the words to say. After a time Haldir said, "What about you? What do you want?"
Shrugging, Melpomaen said, "That is nothing to which I've ever given much thought. Certainly I never thought of children as something without which I would be incomplete." He chuckled a little. "I suppose when I fancied myself in love with Caranfíniel, I assumed that after we wedded, we would choose to have children in due time, but since she rejected me. . ." He shrugged again. "I wish that we could be accepted openly by our own people as well, but more for your sake than for mine, because you so wish to be there. I would as willingly stay here. I cannot think of anything else that I greatly desire, except for you, meldanya, and I have you." He tilted his head to look up at Haldir and saw that his bond-mate was smiling, though tears stood in his eyes.
"I love you, Maen," said Haldir. "I cannot find the words to tell you how much."
"And I you," said Melpomaen. He pressed himself against Haldir. "Let me show you how much."
For an instant Haldir hesitated, but then he bent a little and kissed Melpomaen, his lips and tongue giving all the answer that Melpomaen needed.
They kissed for a long time, using their hands to caress each other's torso and neck and face, eyes shut, kissing blindly as if there were nothing in the world except their two selves. Melpomaen felt as if he would do anything at all for Haldir. He drew his mouth away and began to say so, but Haldir put a finger against Melpomaen's lips, stopping him from speaking, and shook his head.
"Don't say it, Maen. There will be time enough for speech."
He made as if to resume their kissing, but Melpomaen stood up, the water sheeting from his limbs, and stepping out of the tub, held out his hand to Haldir. As Haldir emerged Melpomaen took up a towel and dried him off, carefully patting each inch of skin. When Haldir was completely dry except for his damp hair, Melpomaen quickly rubbed the last drops of water from his own body and led Haldir back to their bed.
He would have taken up the oil that stood on the table by the bed, but Haldir stopped him and pushed him down to sit on the bed, kneeling before him. Haldir took Melpomaen's half-hard organ into his mouth, and encircled the head of it with his tongue, pushing the loose skin down, using his fingers to press firmly against the base and caress the heavy pouched flesh beneath. Melpomaen groaned and leaned back, bracing himself with his hands so that his hips thrust forward. Haldir responded by taking him in more deeply, moving up and down. He allowed his teeth to just graze the skin. That was almost unbearably arousing to Melpomaen, and he had to fight hard to keep from spilling into Haldir's mouth right then.
Haldir continued his delicious sucking, though, and soon Melpomaen could not help himself. He shuddered as he emptied his seed into Haldir's mouth. Haldir lapped him clean and then raised his head. Melpomaen opened his eyes, leaned down, and kissed him, tasting himself on Haldir's lips. He put his hands on Haldir's shoulders and urged him up onto the bed, reaching again for the flask of oil and giving it to Haldir.
To Melpomaen's surprise Haldir had him hold out his hand and poured a little oil into the cupped palm, then guided it down to Haldir's groin. Melpomaen asked, "You don't want. . .?"
Haldir shook his head, saying, "I want to look at you, meldanya, Maen my own beloved." As Melpomaen began to touch him, Haldir's breath grew ragged. The slick oil seemed to both increase his desire and – in some odd fashion – let him hold back.
Melpomaen teased the crown first, slipping back the skin and brushing lightly with his thumb, then wrapped his fingers around the hard shaft and began a firm steady stroke. He kissed Haldir, then wriggled his body a little away, and whispered, "If you want to look, then watch."
Melpomaen's hand hid most of Haldir's cock, his slender fingers circling its length so that only the head was exposed, like a tight red bud of new leaves on a tree in springtime. His forearm was brown against the pale skin of Haldir's stomach. It was beautiful.
Now Melpomaen looked up at Haldir's face. Haldir's lips were parted, still swollen from the hard kisses they had exchanged earlier; his lids were half-lowered, lashes fringing them as he watched Melpomaen's motions; his cheeks were flushed. Melpomaen could feel pulsing blood beneath the soft skin he touched. He was lying half-propped on his left elbow, and was just able to reach Haldir's chest with that hand and rub a fingertip over his nipple, feeling the nub of it stiffen. Haldir inhaled sharply, and in response Melpomaen pinched the tender flesh – not enough to cause pain, just enough to heighten the sensation for Haldir. Melpomaen slid closer and flicked his tongue along Haldir's cheek. When Haldir raised his gaze, Melpomaen said, "meldanya – please – I want you inside of me."
Haldir nodded and picked up the flask of oil as Melpomaen turned over and knelt on his hands and knees. Dabbling his fingers in the oil, Haldir parted the cleft of Melpomaen's buttocks and slipped easily within.
Grasping Melpomaen's hips, Haldir rose up onto his knees pushed inside. He slid one hand around to find that his lover was again hard, and he moved his hand in time with his thrusts.
Melpomaen's mind was wiped clean of all thought at the familiar beloved touch. He closed his eyes to concentrate on what Haldir was doing to him with fingers and hot flesh, pressing and caressing nerves and skin. Melpomaen rocked to Haldir's rhythm, Haldir's cock filling him, each movement bringing pleasure.
The tightness of Melpomaen's hot passage as he pushed in and out was overwhelming. Haldir let go and again seized Melpomaen's hips, thrusting with frantic need until he climaxed and bent forward, resting his forehead on Melpomaen's back as his breathing slowed. A tiny noise from his lover recalled him, and he withdrew, rolling onto the mattress so that he faced Melpomaen, reaching to touch him again.
Melpomaen felt as if his bones might melt. He spent a second time with a groan of release, sticky fluid spurting through Haldir's fingers, and with a sigh nestled close.
"I'm sorry."
"Sorry for what?" said Haldir.
"You wanted to look at me, then, but I wanted you so much. . ." Melpomaen's voice trailed off.
Haldir smiled. "It's all right. There will be other times. If I minded, I could have said no."
"That's so." Melpomaen sighed happily, then again, not so happily. "It doesn't really solve anything, though, does it?"
"No," said Haldir. "I'm not reluctant to return to dwell in Mirkwood because I don't love loving you; but you know that." He put an arm around Melpomaen's waist. "We will find an answer, something that we can both live with. Somehow."
31. Decision
As the last note died on the air, Melpomaen lowered the pipes from his lips and looked over at Dúlin. She had put down the lute to which she was fitting a new tuning peg and was listening intently.
"That was very good," she said. "You have a real gift for music, you know."
"I have?" Melpomaen flushed. "Thank you for saying so, but I fear you are too kind. My talent is nothing compared to yours."
She shook her head. "Don't be so modest. What do you call that piece?"
"I haven't decided on a name," Melpomaen stretched the truth. To himself he thought of it as "Haldir's Song," because he had been thinking of his lover when he composed it, but he was not sure that he wished anyone else to know it by that name, not even Dúlin who would doubtless reck little of the matter.
"Have you written it down yet?" Dúlin asked.
"Only the first sections," confessed Melpomaen. "I'm not very good at writing your musical notations yet."
"Well, the next time you're here I can help you with that. I would like a copy of the piece anyway. Perhaps together we can work out an accompaniment sometime, maybe with tabor and gittern." Her fingers twitched as if playing.
"All right," said Melpomaen. "I had better be going not; it is growing late. I will see you in three days' time, as usual."
"Good," said Dúlin, already bending back over the neck of the lute. "I will see you then."
Melpomaen closed the door to her room behind him and leaned against it for a moment. He enjoyed the evenings he spent with Dúlin. It was pleasant to pass the time with someone whose friendship was simple and uncomplicated, based on their mutual love of music. Though the Elves with whom he guarded Thranduil's caverns had always been friendly, he never felt there was the same level of connection as he had with Dúlin, or for that matter with her cousin Legolas.
Thinking of the captain, he bit the inside of his cheek. Legolas had inquired once more that day whether he and Haldir had yet decided if they would return to Mirkwood that summer, after completing their present mission, and he had had no answer to give. The two of them would have to talk again about it. Time was running out.
He wondered, walking down the corridor, if he should speak with Dúlin about the matter, to hear a relatively disinterested opinion. He believed she liked his company, but her interest in music was overriding, and if he left Mirkwood forever she would simply shrug and accept the inevitable. No – he did not think she would have much to say, one way or the other. He was simply looking for excuses to delay his decision.
He had been later than usual with Dúlin that evening, and Haldir was already in their room when he arrived, propped up in bed and reading in the yellow lamplight. He put the book aside when Melpomaen entered.
"And how was your evening?" Haldir asked.
"Good," said Melpomaen, stretching and bending down to unfasten his shoes.
"Surely you must have played every song you know for Dúlin by now?" inquired Haldir.
"Most of them, anyway," Melpomaen responded. "I was working on a composition tonight, too; that's what took so long. It's almost finished."
"Oh? When can I hope to hear it?"
"Soon, I think," said Melpomaen.
"I look forward to that," said Haldir, and smiled. "I suspect my evening was not as interesting as yours."
"Why, what did you do?"
"Played a few games of stones against Meneldil. He wasn't a very challenging opponent."
"I'm sorry," said Melpomaen. "Was Legolas not there to play chess with?"
Haldir shook his head. "No, he had a summons from King Thranduil. Something to do with a trade agreement with the Dwarves, I think, but at any rate he wasn't there."
"Well, I will join you tomorrow," said Melpomaen, taking of the last of his clothes and folding them neatly into the clothes-press. He slipped a loose linen sleeping-shirt over his head and impatiently shook his hair out from where the neck of the garment trapped it. He went into the other room to wash his hands and face and comb out the tangles.
When he returned, he sat on the edge of the bed next to Haldir and spread one hand out over the leaves of the book, which Haldir had picked up again and was reading. Haldir looked over at him. "What is it?"
Melpomaen sensed a certain irritation in his lover at the interruption, and therefore quickly shifted what he had been going to say, to try to tease him into a jollier mood. Putting on his most charming grin, he drawled, "Read me a stooory." He fluttered his lashes outrageously. "Please?"
Haldir laughed, just as Melpomaen had hoped he would. It turned out that he was reading a narrative of the events of the war against Sauron and the Last Alliance, told, of course, from the perspective of the Elves of Mirkwood, which was rather different from that of Lórien with which Haldir and Melpomaen were more familiar. Haldir read a few pages aloud as Melpomaen listened.
When Haldir came to a lengthy description of the southern part of the forest, though, Melpomaen stopped him, saying, "We've been there, and I can't imagine the trees then and now were so profoundly different."
"Perhaps not," agreed Haldir. He closed the book, but left his finger in between the pages to mark his place. Melpomaen grimaced a little to himself at that. He squirmed closer to Haldir on the bed and insinuated his right arm behind Haldir's back, laying his cheek against Haldir's chest. With his free left hand he toyed, apparently idly, with the hem of Haldir's tunic, letting his fingers brush against Haldir's belly.
Haldir was quite sure he knew what was on Melpomaen's mind and was more than happy to acquiesce to the tacit request. He missed seeing his lover on those nights that Melpomaen spent with Dúlin, though he would never have stopped him. Even when, as often, they were in different groups in the common room, being able to look across it and see Melpomaen was better than his absence.
He shifted his posture so that Melpomaen's fingers could reach the swelling shaft of his cock through the fabric. Setting the book aside once again, Haldir stroked Melpomaen's head, lingering on the curves of his ears and the hollow of his throat, and then reaching further down to his chest. The cloth of Melpomaen's night-shirt felt smooth under Haldir's fingertips, but he knew that each fiber would produce its own sensation as it rubbed against Melpomaen's sensitive nipples. He could see Melpomaen shift his hips as his desire was roused, but he could not reach that far.
By now Melpomaen had drawn up Haldir's tunic and worked his fingers under the cloth of Haldir's leggings, into the hot damp space between his legs. He slid his hand down Haldir's rigid shaft until he could fondle the musky pouch below. He inhaled the familiar scent of Haldir's body, a whiff of sweat compounded with the herbal fragrance of soap and something that was distinctively Haldir's own smell, all overlaid with the more pungent aroma of desire. Melpomaen pulled his arm out from underneath Haldir's back and twisted around so that his head was at Haldir's waist, and his own hips hovered tantalizingly near Haldir's head.
Haldir's hands flew to push up the loose fabric of Melpomaen's garment, exposing his groin and breathing warmly on the bare skin.
Melpomaen did likewise, so that Haldir's leggings bunched around his thighs. Still half-clothed, they began to use their lips and tongues on each other, lavishing caresses on every inch of skin.
This had never been Haldir's favorite position. He found it difficult to concentrate at the same time on bringing Melpomaen pleasure and enjoying what his partner was doing to him, but it was not something they often did. He held Melpomaen's hips and moved himself a little to a more comfortable angle, so that he could take Melpomaen deeper into his throat.
He felt Melpomaen's mouth on him with heat and suction and Melpomaen's hand stroking his buttocks. Warm fingers slid between them to touch his pouch and shaft from behind. Haldir traced the crease between Melpomaen's thigh and stomach, moving back towards Melpomaen's groin so that he could moisten his fingers in his own mouth without relinquishing Melpomaen's shaft. Then he reached around and pressed his fingertip just inside the wrinkled opening. He felt the vibration of Melpomaen's muffled exclamation on his own cock and continued to tease until he was able to slip the finger in further. Without oil to smooth the way, he was careful not to move too vigorously, but nudged along the tight tunnel until he could feel the bump pressing against it from the other side, the place that he knew would bring the greatest pleasure to his lover. Caressing it, he felt Melpomaen become even fuller and more rigid in his mouth and increased the speed of his tongue, curling it around Melpomaen's shaft.
Melpomaen had stopped the movement of his own tongue and lips for the moment in order to concentrate on the feelings that Haldir's caresses evoked. As the sensations grew more intense, he let Haldir loose entirely and clenched his teeth, rocking his hips.
His lover's thrusts deep into his throat brought Haldir close to choking, but he relaxed the muscles there as best he could and was able to take it without having to pull away to breathe. Suddenly his throat was flooded as Melpomaen spent, and he had to draw back in order to swallow.
Melpomaen heaved a great sigh and rooted his face between Haldir's thighs once again, licking tenderly along the shaft and rubbing circles with his tongue around the swollen head. He circled the base with his thumb and forefinger and slid slowly up the length until his fingers met his lips, then drew quickly back down, repeating this until Haldir was gasping his name.
"Ah. . . Maen. . ."
He fastened his mouth yet more tightly around Haldir and stroked even more firmly. He felt Haldir's fingernails digging into his thighs as his lover sought something to anchor him in the throes of passion. A twitch of the flesh under his lips was all the warning he had before Haldir's seed spurted over his tongue. Melpomaen continued to lick and caress Haldir until he began to soften. Then he moved away and turned around so that their faces were close together.
They kissed, a long soft undemanding kiss, and lay back, replete. Melpomaen's hand sought Haldir's and squeezed it.
"I wanted," began Haldir, just as Melpomaen said, "We should. . ." They both stopped, and laughed. Haldir said, "You go first."
"I just did, didn't I," said Melpomaen, and grinned.
Haldir snorted. "No, go on. What were you going to say?"
"I was going to say that we should talk again about what we're going to do. Legolas inquired today about it, and I could tell him nothing. It is only right that he should know soon; spring is nearly upon us."
"A few weeks away," said Haldir, "but you're right. Actually that was what I was going to say, too; but you seemed to have had such a good evening altogether that I didn't want to end it on a sour note, with an argument."
Melpomaen took a deep breath, and said, "If it is so very important to you to stay in Lórien, then I will do so. I won't even ask that we should leave Lórindol's company, though if you prefer that, we can. All that I ask is that if ever another opportunity comes for us to make another journey like this one, that we take it."
Haldir's eyes widened with astonishment. "Do you mean that?"
Melpomaen nodded.
"It is a great gift that you offer me, meldanya," said Haldir. "I do not know what I have done to deserve it."
Many things raced through Melpomaen's mind as he looked for a way to answer. Haldir had been the one who showed him what it was to love truly. Melpomaen also knew that despite his outward confidence and undoubted skills, there was something fragile in Haldir, a yearning that might never be fulfilled. Whatever it was that Haldir sought, though, Melpomaen had realized that it could only be found in Lórien, among their own people. But he said nothing of this to Haldir, fearing that his bond-mate might think he had made the decision out of guilt or pity, when such was not the case at all. In the end, Melpomaen chose to offer to leave Mirkwood and not return because he loved Haldir, and judged that Haldir would be more unhappy staying in Thranduil's service than he himself would be in returning to Lórindol's company.
So he smiled at Haldir, and said, "It is not a question of deserving it, meldanya. Do you not think that your arguments could have persuaded me?"
Haldir kissed Melpomaen, saying, "Whatever you say, Maen. And I do thank you. I know how much you would like to return here. You are more generous than I."
Melpomaen shrugged. "If I had not managed to get myself injured at a most inconvenient time, we would never have come here at all. I am thankful to have had this winter, it would be greedy to ask for more." He thought for a moment. "But, if you are willing, there is one other condition, or rather, request, I would make."
"Name it," said Haldir.
"I would like. . ." Melpomaen hesitated. "I would like to invite Legolas to be with us once more, before we depart. If he does not wish to, then there's an end to it – but I would like to make the offer."
"If you wish," Haldir said, "I have no objections." His arms crept around Melpomaen's torso and hugged him close, feeling him warm through the wrinkled linen. "Have I told you lately how much I love you?"
Melpomaen chuckled. "Yes, but you can always tell me again, Dír." He rested his head against Haldir's chest and heard the beating of his lover's heart.
32. To Greet the Spring
"You should be the one to tell him."
Haldir looked at Melpomaen. "Why me?"
"Because you are the one who wishes to leave," said Melpomaen. "I will leave, but I do not wish to, not as you do."
"We will go together then, and I will speak," said Haldir.
That day he asked Gelion, who was the under-captain in charge of the day shift now, for permission for himself and Melpomaen to speak with Captain Legolas, which was readily granted. They were to see him in late afternoon.
A cheerful voice said, "Come in," when they knocked at the half-closed door to the captain's room. Legolas was seated at his desk, pen in hand, scribbling into a ledger. "Just a moment," he said, not looking up. "Let me just. . ." He finished his calculation and laid the pen down, lifting his gaze. "Haldir, Melpomaen. You wanted to see me?"
"Yes," said Haldir, taking a half-step forward. "Sir. Legolas." He took a breath and continued, "I'm afraid that we must respectfully and regretfully decline the offer of the king your father. We will not be returning to his halls."
"I see." Legolas's voice was distant. He leaned back in his chair and folded his hands together. "I'm sorry to hear it, and I know the king will be also. Is that all?"
Now Haldir looked at Melpomaen for support. Melpomaen said, "I hope you are not too disappointed, or displeased? It is not a decision we came to lightly."
"No," said Legolas, "I do not think that. But I confess that I regret it."
"We will not be leaving immediately, of course," said Haldir. "The season is not yet advanced enough to begin our journey. Do you here celebrate the coming of spring? I have heard nothing of it, and the day is but a week away."
Legolas shook his head. "Nothing like midwinter, no. The turn from winter to spring here is often marked by snowfall rather than thaw, and so it is not thought much worth celebrating."
"Where we have lived before spring arrives earlier. We are accustomed to marking the turn of the season, therefore. If you would like, we would be pleased to have you celebrate privately with us," said Melpomaen.
Legolas flushed. He well remembered what had happened at midwinter. It was nothing of which he was ashamed, but was it something to repeat? For he was sure that was what Melpomaen alluded to in asking him to celebrate with them. Then again, if Melpomaen and Haldir were to leave and not return, he was very likely never to have an opportunity again to be as close as one could imagine to friends.
Haldir watched the varied emotions play across Legolas's face, and made a small gesture with his hand to hush Melpomaen when his lover would have spoken. This was a decision that needed to be made without anyone's help.
At last Legolas said, "Yes. I will celebrate the coming of spring with you."
Over the next week, in their spare moments, Haldir and Melpomaen prepared for their guest. Spring might be upon them by the calendar, but here in the northern forest, there were as yet no budding leaves or first flowers to bring the spring indoors. Instead they ensured that their room was as fresh and clean as they could make it. Melpomaen wheedled some lengths of cloth in bright green and soft yellow from the quartermaster, and hung them on the walls, producing a springlike effect, even though there was still snow on the ground outside.
In Mirkwood, since the coming of spring was not celebrated as midwinter was, there were no arrangements for the guards to take shorter shifts than usual that day in order to have time for festival, and so they watched as usual at the gate that guarded the entrance to the caverns. Neither of them spoke to their companions of their plans for that evening, naturally. They merely slipped out from the mess immediately after the evening meal and went back to wait for Legolas to be able to join them.
When he arrived, he admired the way that they seemed almost to have brought the outdoors to their room through their clever arrangements, but seemed strangely ill at ease. After speaking of inconsequentialities for a few moments, Melpomaen asked Legolas what disturbed him so.
"Well," said Legolas, "I see what trouble you have been to, and I do not want you to think that I do not appreciate it, but I had wanted to ask if perhaps you would come to my rooms tonight instead."
Melpomaen turned and raised an eyebrow at Haldir, who was standing a little behind him. Haldir lifted his shoulders and smiled. "If you would prefer that, then certainly. It is not as if we would be able to celebrate in the way to which we are accustomed in any case."
Legolas rose from the chair in which he had been sitting, his face shining with pleasure. "Thank you. Just give me a few minutes and then follow me to my rooms." He hurried out.
Melpomaen shrugged and said doubtfully, "I wonder what he has in mind? Surely he did not misunderstand our invitation?"
"I don't think so." Haldir shook his head. "But perhaps this is his way of declining it, or controlling the situation, setting his own limits? I suppose we will find out soon enough."
Before they left the room, Haldir gave Melpomaen a quick embrace and whispered in his ear, "I love you."
Melpomaen kissed him in reply. Then they set off down the corridor.
Haldir tapped at Legolas's door. They heard a few muffled thumps and then Legolas's voice, also curiously choked – was he holding back laughter? – said, "Come in."
When they entered, Legolas was not the only one present. Dúlin was there, and Gelion, Erentar, and Lasmir; Meneldil, Belegorn, Guilin, and several other Elves with whom they had become acquainted over the past few months. Even King Thranduil himself had come.
"I know you aren't actually leaving for some weeks yet," Legolas half-apologized, "but since you are used to marking the coming of spring with some kind of festival, I thought that an early farewell party might serve the purpose."
Dúlin said, "And I hoped that I could persuade you, Melpomaen, to play your new piece for everyone here. I brought my pipes for you."
Melpomaen blushed. He had never had as high an opinion of his abilities as a composer as Dúlin did, but he mumbled an embarrassed affirmative and took the instrument that she was holding out to him. He needed no music – he had it by heart. When he raised the pipes to his lips, the chatter in the room stilled.
Catching Haldir's eye, he began to play. The music rose in a rippling melody that evoked wind and water, like a breeze blowing along the pebbled banks of a stream, perhaps, and then continued on, telling of mists filling hollows and eddying over fields, and among them someone striding, tall and proud and yet part of the world he moved through. When the song ended, there was silence, until gravely King Thranduil put his hands together and clapped applause.
He thanked Melpomaen and said, "I am sorry I can stay no longer, and sorrier still that my son was unable to persuade you to remain here. To lose two warriors of skill, and one such a talented musician as well, will be a loss, but I respect your wishes." He inclined his head, bidding them all a good night, and departed.
The rest stayed for some time longer. Legolas had thoughtfully provided several flagons of wine and bowls of spiced nuts and dried fruits. No one asked why Haldir and Melpomaen were refusing Thranduil's invitation, a lack which Haldir noted, though Melpomaen did not. Instead the conversation drifted from music to other arts, then split into several groups. Those with whom Haldir spoke recalled memories of past springs and talked over all the usual topics of those who have a place and a position in common, but perhaps little else.
None of the guests seemed inclined to make a night of it. Dúlin was the first to excuse herself, and the other Elves soon followed suit. When the last of them had gone, Melpomaen caught Haldir's eye and nodded toward the door. Legolas stopped them, saying, "Please. Stay."
"Are you sure?" asked Haldir gently.
"Yes," said Legolas. His hands went to his hair and began to loosen the braids that held it back from his temples. As he did so, he walked toward the door and slipped the latch into place. Turning, he faced them.
"You have shown me possibilities. I think that I should return the favor, at least in part, as much as I can."
Slowly, deliberately, he began to remove his garments. One by one they fell into a pile on the floor at his feet, and Legolas emerged from them like the land emerging from the snow and ice that clothed it in winter.
Only half-conscious of what they did, Haldir and Melpomaen had seated themselves on a bench, grasping each other's hands as they watched Legolas disrobe. He moved toward them, and taking their free hands, tugged them to stand up, leading them into the other room where his bed waited.
A pair of candles in sconces on the wall lit the room with a soft glow that flickered along the lines of muscle on Legolas's arms and legs and torso. He bade the other two to stand while he undressed them, each in turn, folding tunics and leggings and undergarments with care and placing them to one side. When they were all three bare, Legolas put his arms around the others' waists and drew them into a shared embrace, kissing first Haldir's cheek and then Melpomaen's.
To Melpomaen's surprise, Legolas was not yet noticeably aroused. His own member had been half-hard all evening, in anticipation of what he hoped would happen, and he could see that Haldir was also feeling desire. It puzzled him that Legolas was not responding, and he reached out to cup his hand around the other Elf's face.
Legolas flinched back a little at the touch, but his voice was steady as he said, "Melpomaen, why don't you lie on the bed? Make yourself at ease, and watch."
Melpomaen followed the suggestion and rested comfortably on several pillows, turned a little to one side to see what would happen. Legolas had Haldir stretch out at full length, face down, his head turned toward Melpomaen. He took up a bowl of pale-green ointment and began to massage it into Haldir's skin, beginning at the shoulders and working his way down along the spine with a brief excursion to tend to the arms. He rubbed it into Haldir's buttocks, then his thighs, down to his calves and finally his feet. At the first touch of the salve Haldir's eyes had widened, his mouth forming into an "O" of surprise.
"What is it?" mouthed Melpomaen, but Haldir only shook his head slightly and let his eyes fall closed, clearly enjoying the sensation. One hand was tucked under his hip and Melpomaen felt sure that he was holding himself.
The ointment had a strong aroma of herbs, with a slightly bitter underscent that Melpomaen could not place. As Legolas continued to knead it into Haldir's legs, working his way back up to Haldir's torso, he looked over at Melpomaen, winked, and reached out with a dab of salve on his fingertips to touch it to Melpomaen's chest, then brushed it over his own groin before continuing.
Melpomaen gasped. At first the ointment felt cold on his skin, but then it quickly changed to a heat that penetrated, soothing and stimulating at once. He hoped that he would be given the same treatment as Haldir was receiving.
When Legolas decided that Haldir's back muscles were sufficiently limp, he shifted positions to the center of the bed and asked Haldir to turn over, which he did, eyes still closed. Legolas now repeated rubbing in the salve, again moving from neck to feet and then back. He carefully avoided touching Haldir's member, but he did not interfere when Haldir grasped himself and began a gentle, almost idle stroke.
At last it was Melpomaen's turn. He was more than ready, quivering with anticipation and suppressed desire. He had watched not only Haldir touching himself but had also seen Legolas's organ gradually become erect, and knowing that they were feeling pleasure increased his own. The salve felt just as good on his back as he had expected. It did not burn, but tingled pleasantly, leaving a sensation of warmth behind even after Legolas moved onward. Legolas's touch itself was not especially arousing to Melpomaen, somewhat to his surprise. What he found more stimulating was the thought that Haldir was there, listening, seeing him under Legolas's ministrations.
Legolas duplicated the same actions he had taken with Haldir, first rubbing the ointment into every inch of Melpomaen's back and buttocks and legs, then encouraging him to turn over to repeat the process on the front of his body. Melpomaen watched Legolas's face now, as he stroked firm muscle and skin. The face of the king's son was intent with concentration, almost preoccupied, and yet calm. Melpomaen realized then that the isolation, the loneliness that Legolas experienced might be inevitable, but he put the thought aside. Tonight was not a night for such grim speculations.
After finishing with Melpomaen, Legolas moved so that he was kneeling between them on the bed. He sat back on his heels and waited. Haldir was the first to speak.
"I enjoyed that very much indeed, Legolas. What would you have us do for you in return?"
Still Legolas was quiet, but he frowned a little, a crease appearing between his eyebrows.
Melpomaen said, "Or is it that there was something else you wished to do?"
Legolas nodded. He looked from Melpomaen to Haldir, his eyes pleading, then slid his left hand along Haldir's thigh, stopping just short of the hipbone. His fingers twitched almost imperceptibly. Melpomaen realized a heartbeat sooner than Haldir just what Legolas meant to do, if he were permitted. Although he did not know whether it would work or not, Melpomaen was willing to let Legolas make the attempt. If the Mirkwood Elf felt obligated to them for whatever help they had been able to give him, it was meet that they should allow him to pay off the debt in such a way, if he chose to try.
While Haldir still paused, uncertain, Melpomaen reached down to take Legolas's other hand and guide it to his own aching member. When Haldir saw this, he shifted his hips closer to Legolas, so that Legolas's hand nudged against his cock, and the other began to touch him.
It felt nothing like either being caressed by his lover or touching himself, Haldir decided. Being stroked by Legolas did not reduce his desire, but neither did it bring him nearer to its peak. It was an odd sensation, and after a few moments he laid his fingers on Legolas's wrist, pausing his motions.
Legolas met Haldir's eyes. "Do you not like it?" he said, troubled.
Haldir shook his head, saying, "I neither like nor dislike. It feels. . ." he sought to find the right word, but the best he could say was, "It feels. . . bloodless."
Now Legolas looked at Melpomaen, who nodded reluctantly. "I fear the same is true for me. It is not your fault, certainly; I think it must have to do with our bond."
"Probably," said Legolas in dejected tones. "I wondered if that might be the case, but I wanted to try." He bent his head forward, his hair falling to hide his expression.
Melpomaen thought about it. "I wonder," he said slowly, "if all three of us touched one another at the same time, how that would be?"
"We can only try," Haldir said. "I'm willing to try."
Legolas looked up again, hope on his face.
"How best can we do this? If we all sit up?" said Melpomaen in doubtful tones.
They tried it, sitting in a tight triangle, legs tucked under and to one side, their hips meeting at the center, and found they were able to grasp one another with enough ease to make the attempt.
Legolas took a breath and once again reached out to find his fingers meeting Haldir's at Melpomaen's groin, and the reverse on the other side.
Having Haldir's touch joined with Legolas's was much more to Melpomaen's liking, and he could tell from Haldir's reaction that his partner felt the same way. He looked at Legolas, feeling the unfamiliar skin against his fingers, and deliberately drew his thumb in a circle around the head of Legolas's shaft.
Melpomaen had wondered if, since neither of them felt an increase in desire as the result of Legolas's touch, whether the same would be true for him. But it seemed that was not so. Under their combined caresses Legolas began to pant, his hips bucking as, for the first time, he felt a loving touch that was not his own. It was not long before Legolas heard himself making high-pitched sounds in the back of his throat and then with a wrenching groan released into their joined hands.
He took a moment to recover; in the meantime Haldir and Melpomaen continued to pet and fondle each other. When Legolas had recovered himself enough to join in again, he relinquished his grasp on each of them for a moment, and reaching for the bowl of salve which had been pushed aside, he spread a little on his hands. That induced new sensations – the touch of Legolas's hands alone might be a matter of some indifference, but the stimulation of the salve overcame it.
Haldir was not certain if, alone, that would have been enough, but with Melpomaen caressing his sac and the base of his member, he found himself suddenly ready to spill, and did, his cock convulsing in their embrace. Still throbbing, he shifted a bit to reach Melpomaen more easily.
Melpomaen now brought his own hands to join those of Haldir and Legolas at his groin, the slippery wetness of their seed mingling on his shaft. He took their two hands and moved them to his chest, where they could pinch his nipples to hard points, and he stroked himself faster and harder as they watched. Haldir leaned over and kissed him on the mouth, trailing his tongue along Melpomaen's cheekbone until he could whisper in his ear, "I love you, meldanya."
Melpomaen turned his head slightly to nip at Haldir's earlobe and whispered back, "And I you."
Legolas, meanwhile, ran his free hand along Haldir's side, resting it on his thigh, but continuing to play with the tender flesh of Melpomaen's chest at the same time. Melpomaen began rocking his hips backward and forward into his hands. He had a sudden longing to be inside of Haldir's heated passage. It seemed perhaps unfair to ask for that, however, since it would exclude Legolas, so Melpomaen contented himself by simply remembering the feel of Haldir under him, pliant and open. With a final few thrusts he reached his climax.
They broke a little apart, exchanging tired but contented smiles. Haldir raised Legolas's hand from his thigh and kissed the palm of it, saying, "Whatever you may have felt that you owed us is well repaid, my friend."