Oathbound, Heartbroken *COMPLETE*

Title: Oathbound, Heartbroken 11/?
Author: Eawen Penallion
email: cross_stitcherire@yahoo.com
LiveJournal: http://www.livejournal.com/users/eawen_penallion/
Type: FPS
Pairing: Haldir/Melpomaen
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: Slash, explicit sexual encounters between two males.
Beta: Nienna, beta reader exraordinaire!
Disclaimer: all rights to the characters belong to JRR
Tolkien – I’m only playing with them. 77777777777
Timeline: Middle of Third Age
Feedback: Yes please,
Archive: OEAM, AFF, LJ, anywhere else, please ask

Summary: Haldir has waited for his soulmate for all his life, and now seems to have found that elf. But to claim his love, he must break an oath.

Chapter 11

Orophin's eyes narrowed as he carefully observed his older brother on the forest floor below talking to the newly arrived runner from the City of Trees, and he sighed as he saw the tired and harrowed expression upon Haldir's steady face. Messengers were no unusual occurrence, arriving regularly to speak to the Marchwarden and Haldir normally displayed no outward concern at their dispatches. However in the past week since Haldir had returned to the front from his brief foray to Caras Galadhon it seemed that his brother had struggled to maintain his stoic demeanour. He normally took care not to project onto his troops any of the misgivings, problems or dilemmas that he was probably facing. Well, that was as it should be; the Marchwarden carried the burden of command and the task of protecting his men. The burden had been great indeed in the past month, more so than at any time in Orophin's memory.

Thankfully it seemed as if the orcs had been decimated during the invasion for there had been no attacks for more than a ten-day. Yet the tension and vigilance still ran high, and as the leader of the warriors of the Golden Wood Haldir felt the full weight of responsibility for his troops. Orophin had been talking to his superior only the day before about the necessity of re-establishing the monthly rotation of duty, and of the need for a major recruitment drive amongst the younger elves to bring the strength of the corps back to a manageable level. There was much work to be done but returning to the normal relief system was a priority.

Orophin winced inwardly at another thought, for he remembered the fact of his new position. He knew that he should be if not pleased at his promotion then at best gratified at the trust Haldir placed in him. He had worked hard and as Haldir's lieutenant the responsibility laid upon him was not a problem. Oh no, he could do the job alright - he just hated the fact that from now on he would be on opposite duty to his brothers, and that he would never take his rest month at the same time as Rúmil and Haldir. By the Valar, he would miss them!

He glanced at his brother again, so authoritative in his dealings with his men, and Orophin glowed with pride. His captain, his brother, his father, his guardian - Haldir had held the family together after their parents' deaths, he had brought them together and forged an unbreakable bond of familial love. He remembered those dreadful nights when all three of them had climbed into their parents' bed, and he remembered the childish sobbing of Rúmil and his own distressing moans of grief. Haldir had soothed them with softly spoken reminiscences of their father and mother, and the love that they had shared. No matter any differences of opinion, no matter any small spats or words spoken in anger, the three sons still held firm in their brotherly unity.

From his high vantage point Orophin noted with sorrow the sallow complexion and the ravages of war etched in lines around Haldir's mouth. Even the rounded cheekbones, so often the cause of merry jests and japes, now seemed sunken in appearance as more concerns weighed upon the Marchwarden's broad frame. 'Ai', thought the commander, 'He must miss his 'Maen so much.' Orophin thought back to Haldir's recent return from his trip to the city. His brother had been quiet, almost morose, but considering the speed of his return he supposed that he should not be surprised. Haldir could only have spent mere hours with his melethron - certainly either enough only for sleep or sex, but not both. Orophin smiled inwardly, for he remembered his own lustful needs when he had been in the first throes of love with Doron, and he decided that the Marchwarden was probably still exhausted.

As his thoughts drifted to his own husband so did his hand drift to his groin, stroking the hardening member as he envisaged his enticing spouse. He had resisted the blandishments of the librarian at first, unable to believe that a book-bound elf could hold the interest of a worldly warrior. That resistance had faded at the first kiss, so tantalising and arousing in the extreme. The librarian had been both enthusiastic and experienced, and a furthering of their sensual encounters had opened his eyes and body to the depth of knowledge of a literary ellon. My, the esoteric books that Doron had had access to…! A thousand years had only increased his love and lustful appetite for Doron, and his body craved Doron's deft touch. His rampant longings and needs could only be assuaged by his bereth - and by his many erotic techniques. Orophin thought of how his husband must be coping in his absence and he wondered which of the many - toys - he had employed today to fill him and hold him in sexual tension until Orophin's return. Oh, his cheeky, teasing darling… Regretfully he removed his hand from his now aching member, very aware of his continuing promise of celibacy and restraint. Their reunion would be all the wilder for his compliance, full of the joys of marital lust and longing.

He looked down from the flet even as Haldir raised his eyes to him and he swiftly descended the tree at his brother's sharp nod. He crossed the grass to where the Marchwarden stood, the messenger still standing at attention awaiting his response. Haldir lifted the paper in his hand.

" Tôren, it seems that the party who are returning to Imladris will be passing the border in a few hours, yet I have received word that I am needed to the south. I would ask if you and your section patrol will give a final escort to Lord Glorfindel in his path to the Misty Mountains, in my stead."

Orophin nodded at once. "Of course," he said. "It will be a sad thing to see Lord Glorfindel leave, for he is a good friend to Lothlórien. It was truly amazing to see him as a warrior in action!" He smiled at Haldir, knowing the unique connection that his brother now had with the re-born lord. "I suppose that Melpomaen will want you to visit Imladris soon to meet his 'parents' formally?" Orophin grinned but the laughing smile faded at the brief look of dismay that flashed across Haldir's face. His brother quickly replaced the mournful expression and the cool commanding officer returned.

"Aye, Melpomaen loves his fathers," he murmured. "I must go, Orophin. Please, give Glorfindel my deepest apologies - for everything. Tell him - tell him that I wish him and his family nothing but the best, from the depths of my heart. I - nay, that is all. There is nothing more that can be said."

The Marchwarden turned and without a word of farewell he picked up his bow and walked south, out of the glade and into the cover of the forest.

Orophin looked with wide-eyed bewilderment at this abrupt departure and glanced over to Rúmil, but his younger brother could do naught but spread his hands wide and shrug his shoulders in his own confusion. Ai, Haldir was indeed upset at this enforced separation from his beloved, and most probably at the inevitable postponement of the Lady's ceremony - the Dreamwalking. Soon, soon things would return to normal, then they could help Haldir with those mysterious misgivings he seemed to hold regarding his relationship with Melpomaen. Orophin grinned at the thought of the young scribe. As sweet and gentle as he seemed, Orophin sensed that the dark-haired elf had a strong stubborn streak - he could see that his formidable brother had indeed made a fine match.

It was over two hours later that Orophin receive word of the approaching party and he gathered Rúmil and his section together to greet the re-born Lord of Gondolin, so resplendent upon his great white horse. Orophin saluted in warrior fashion to the mounted warrior, making his low bow to show his deep respect for Glorfindel. The golden lord looked down at him, and upon rising Orophin was somewhat confused at the severe and scornful expression on his strong face.

"Suilad, Commander Orophin. I see that he had not the courage to come and face me."

Not understanding the hostile and cryptic words, Orophin fell back on his brother's equally mysterious instructions.

"Marchwarden Haldir has unfortunately been called away on urgent business. He asked me to convey his deepest apologies - for everything - and to send to you and your family his very best wishes for your health and happiness."

The sneer turned into a disdainful grimace as Glorfindel leaned forward and loomed over the Lórien elf. His golden tresses fell around his face, framing his blazing blue eyes.

"Tell your 'Marchwarden' that I accept neither his apologies nor wishes, and that if I see him again it will be at the end of my sword - and *that* will be at his throat. He is unwelcome in Imladris, he is unwelcome in my home and he will *never* be accepted in my family!"

Orophin stumbled back, aghast with shock at both the virulent words that fell from the twisted lips and at the snarling tone of voice used to deliver them. From further back in the mounted group Orophin heard a cry of protest even as his brother too exclaimed in surprise.

"Adar!"

"Melpomaen?"

Orophin turned to see the dark-haired scribe edge his bay horse forward and Rúmil jumped aside to avoid being knocked over. Orophin could scarce believe his eyes. The elf had thrown back the hood of his grey travel cloak and his brunette hair shimmered with red highlights in the noonday sun. Orophin's eyes were drawn to the faint bruising of the jaw and lips, evidence of the swift healing of the Firstborn and the tight strapping around the injured left wrist. There was both fury and futility in Melpomaen's gaze as he pulled alongside the commander that he had once thought he would call 'brother'.

"Mel - Melpomaen!" Orophin stuttered. "Why are you here? You - you are not going? Tell me that you do not leave!"

The sorrow in the chocolate-brown eyes was overwhelming yet love still seemed to reside in their depths. Orophin saw the jaw clench as the little elf sought to control his emotions.

"I can see that Haldir - that my love did not tell you… Glorfindel is both my father and my lord and I *must* obey him. The Lady too counselled me to return home until Haldir comes to claim me -"

"Never!" The golden lord swung Asfaloth between them. His eyes blazed with fury and righteous anger. "Mel, he tried to kill you!"

The anger was returned with full force.

"He did *not*! He was defending himself. Haldir loves me; he wants to keep me from harm. That is why he told me to go."

The commander broke in to the stormy exchange, horror resonating in his voice. "Haldir tried to kill you?"

"No!"

"Aye!" Glorfindel gesticulated at Melpomaen's bandaged wrist. "He broke his arm and nigh on cracked his head open. Oh, and gave him a split lip - not good for planting sweet kisses upon."

Rúmil's face had drained at this tirade, and then flushed red with rage. He turned towards the trees and let out a bellow.

"Haldir!"

The roar echoed through the trees as the assembled Galadhrim stood in bemused silence. There was no movement, no answer from the depths of the Golden Wood.

"He is not here, Rúmil," Melpomaen said softly from his high perch upon his mount. "I know. I would feel him." He leaned down, his expression urgent and deep conviction in his words. "Lady Galadriel told me that he must attempt a ceremony, a walk through his past to reclaim his present and bring us hope of a future. She also told me of the nature of his oath, and that there might be a way to rescind it. Bring him back to Caras Galadhon, my brothers. Make him face his fears, for I yearn for our completion. I will await him."

"Aye, and so will I - and so will my bereth! If Haldir fears *my* wrath, be aware that Erestor was not always a scholar. My husband will break the bones of any who dares to harm his son. Imladris is no elf-haven for Haldir of Lórien."

Melpomaen twisted in his saddle slowly to face his foster-father, breathing deeply to calm his trembling voice as he made his final statement.

"We are soulmates. As I am Haldir's heart so is he my soul. We *will* come through this, one way or another." The scribe looked at Orophin and Rúmil once more. "If he will not come to Imladris, write to me and I *will* return."

He looked defiantly at his father who said nothing, but simply barked an order to the following party. The horses began to move forward once more and the Galadhrim had no choice but to walk alongside them to give escort as required.

At the edge of the wood, at the fateful place where they had met but three months before, the scribes of Imladris took their leave of the warriors of Lórien. As the mounted cavalcade made their way up the slopes to the foothills of the Hithaeglir the two brothers saw the auburn-tinted head turn to cast one last lingering look back at the realm of Lothlórien. The brethren held fast to one another in their residual dismay and shock.

"Ai, were it not for our beloved spouses who await us in Caras Galadhon I swear that Haldir would have serious competition for that young elf. Melpomaen of Imladris may be diminutive in stature, but he is a giant in the strength of his love and devotion to our thickheaded brother."

Orophin nodded in agreement and anger. "Aye, at this moment I have ten times more respect for Mel than I do for our dearest Marchwarden. Gods, to where did our shining example of an ellon flee, either physically or emotionally? Did someone come three months ago and knock all strength and sense out of Haldir's head?"

Rúmil grabbed at his brother's sleeve in warning. "Mayhap it was Mel, but we should not speak too loudly of Haldir's failings," he hissed softly, glancing at the troop around them. "Already the scandal mill has been fed too much grist to grind."

Orophin agreed curtly, and the journey back to their post was fully occupied with delicate warnings to all those who had witnessed the altercation with Glorfindel. With paucity of speech, Orophin warned the warriors that if any word of the accusations spread from within their small group, then the Commander would have the greatest pleasure in censoring the culprit - by cutting out the perpetrator's tongue with a blunted blade…

****

It was but an hour before sunset when Haldir returned to the border. As soon as they saw the pale-gold head approach through the trees the brothers rose, but any remonstrations were forestalled as Haldir used hand signals to signify silence and the requirement to ascend to one of the high flets. The brothers obeyed their leader knowing that this dialogue was to be personal, and could not be discussed in front of the resting warriors. The climb was swift, performed in the elegant and agile manner of the elves of the trees.

Upon the flet the three brothers sat as if they were the three sides of a triangle, facing one another in shifting emotional discomfort. Rúmil's heart dropped when he saw his eldest brother's face, for he had not observed Haldir as recently or closely as Orophin. No longer did Haldir have the smooth, almost rounded contours upon his cheeks, or brightness in his silver-blue eyes. Instead there was hollowness and darkening beneath the haunted orbs.

"Ai, Haldir…!"

The Marchwarden's voice was soft and suffused with pain.

"How - how did he look?"

"You do not deserve him, tôren."

Haldir winced at the anger in Rúmil's tone even as Orophin laid a warning hand upon the lieutenant's arm.

"No, I do not," Haldir replied, his silver-gold hair falling over his pale face. "I know that. That is why I could not be there to see him - leave." He paused, choking down a sob. "I had to let him go. I nearly killed the one I love beyond life itself. So - I sent him away."

Orophin moaned softly at the defeat in Haldir's voice. He leaned towards his brother in support.

"He did not wish to go. He waits for you."

"He should not. There is no future for us."

"There could be - if you undertake the ceremony that the Lady suggested."

The shining head shook in denial.

"Argh!"

The two elder brothers looked at Rúmil as he exploded in frustration.

"For the Valar's sake, Haldir! When did you become such a defeatist? What in Arda does Mel see in you? For two thousand years you have led your troops - have led *us* - against orcs, against raiders, against oppression and tyranny and all evil things that dare to venture against the Golden Wood. You have led us with courage, skill and wisdom, and a determination that *none* could match. Then, in your longing for a soulmate doubt entered your mind, and now that you have found him - you collapse! Enough! We will see that you go through this trial, and you will come forth stronger and ready to unite with your 'Maen.

"Now, no more lies, no more evasions. I want to know the truth and I want to hear it *right now*! We are tired of the twisting hands and mournful sighs."

Rúmil glared at the shocked faces, then laughed at the stunned expressions. Orophin shook himself out of his started demeanour and laughed too.

"Well, those were *my* lines - but you spoke them well, Rúmil. Aye, Haldir - we deserve to know the truth. We *need* to know the truth. Why did you lash out at Melpomaen so? And what oath did you swear?"

With two pairs of blue eyes focused upon him the Marchwarden of Lothlórien could do naught but return those stares until the overwhelming intensity forced him to capitulate. His voice trembled as he spoke.

"It happened so long ago… and it is not easy to speak about. So much pain, so many years…"

Haldir tilted his head up to view the canopy above them, but the brothers knew that he did not see the golden leaves, nor the blue sky beyond. His throat clenched, the sinews of his neck rippling in the tension of the clenching of his jaw.

"I once loved an ellon - I thought I loved him as I do 'Maen… I was but a youth, just reaching my majority but Ada - Ada did not approve. He warned me…Oh Gods!"

He thrust his head into his hands. A cry emanated from his open, sagging mouth, and the brothers lurched in dismay for it was the cry of a wounded animal, tortured and twisting in unending pain. Their eyes met in shock.

"Wha -what happened...?" Orophin managed to stutter as Haldir rocked back and forth in grievous pain.

Haldir could only shake his head repeatedly as he tried to make his lips say the words that he had withheld for two thousand years. All that he could emit were moans, for it seemed he struggled for his sanity.

"We were … so young. Neither of our parents had told us… had spoken of … physical love between ellyn… Oh Gods, we didn't know!"

The wounded creature howled, his sobs breaking through the cover of the trees. Rúmil glanced about, hoping that none were witnessing this searing confession but they two.

"The- the red wine stains upon my clothes on the night of my initiation, Orophin? They were not wine…"

Orophin shook his head in disbelief, dawning comprehension filling him with both revulsion and compassion.

"The ellon - it was - Thalaglar? He…hurt you?"

Haldir nodded, fighting to control his emotions. Rúmil started to weep softly. He had never lain with an ellon, only ellith, and Meluiwen had captured his heart very quickly after their first meeting. Orophin however obviously knew how horrific an inept encounter of that sort could be.

"The stains, they were blood?" he asked gently. Haldir nodded.

"Blood. My blood - from a rough, drunken coupling. It - it was not Thalaglar's fault, for initially it was consensual - but in the final event he would not - could not - stop. It - it became…rape. We - we did not …know how… not properly…"

He paused and the brothers wanted nothing more than to have him cease, to rest from the terrible words that had come forth in his agony of his memories. Haldir though seemed determined to finish though, to finally reveal all in his late-come honesty.

"As a result… of the - inadvertent - rape, I… foreswore any further coupling with a male. I - I instead…took an oath that I would… marry an elleth who would bear my children." He looked up into their tear-soaked eyes, knowing finally that they would understand. "I swore it upon Adar's name, so that I could present him with grandchildren to carry on his line - and forget my dreadful… mistake."

The silence was immense, and seemed to last an Age as the brothers absorbed this unholy revelation. Haldir's sunken cheeks were now reddened and swollen, awash with the seemingly endless tears - as were those of Rúmil and Orophin. The trio grasped one another, clung to each other in grief and disillusionment as empathy for their beloved brother's long hidden trauma hit the younger elves. Empathy united them; finally the brutal truth lightened their hearts in the knowledge that the release of this festering secret bound them in support of Haldir. Now they could attempt to help their brother to beginning the healing of the wound inflicted upon him more than two millennia before. Rúmil spoke first.

"Does 'Maen know?"

Haldir nodded, his heart aching for the hurt he had caused his beloved scribe.

"My 'Maen is sharp of wit and sympathetic in the extreme. He was aware of my pain even before the invasion of the Golden Wood, but it was a fatal collusion of exhaustion, the depths of reverie and his endless love and need for our joining that caused me to lash out at him. I lost control and that is why I sent him away."

Orophin nodded. "But you will recall him now? He knows, he understands, therefore now you can heal together."

Haldir shook his head. "I cannot. It would just happen again. I would hurt him again."

"But you need not!" Orophin pressed him. "And how *did* you hurt him? You know that 'Maen would not cause you pain - why did you lash out?"

"I did not know it was him!" the Marchwarden cried out. "He thought to wake me gently from my sleep, laying his mouth upon me, approaching in love and trust! But - but I was in a waking dream and I did not see him, but only the encounter of long ago. I - I - Oh Elbereth, I thought he was Thal! As he pressed into me I thought that he was Thal, and that he was going to rape me again and I could not let him and - I struck him! I wanted to *kill* him!!"

The warrior curled into himself, his arms wrapped around his drawn-up knees, his silver-gold hair falling forward as he rocked once more in abject misery. Orophin looked across at Rúmil, linked to his younger brother in their collusion in this confession, desperately trying to find the words to penetrate the pain that Haldir was feeling.

"You owe it to yourself, Haldir. You need him," he whispered.

Muffled words came forth from the folds of the wounded warrior's tunic.

"I hurt him. I would not hurt him again."

The silver-gold hair hung down over the gaunt face. Rúmil gently parted the makeshift veil.

"Yet he waits for you, Haldir. I have never before seen love, trust and devotion such as that which Melpomaen of Imladris holds for you. In the face of such loyalty, how can you not reciprocate his loving zeal? You *must* undertake the Dreamwalking, Haldir - for yourself, for us and for the lover who is so true."

The gently spoken words, articulated by one who was other than the two hearts involved, finally penetrated Haldir's carefully constructed defences, and the sweet attack initiated the crumbling of the wall of self-hatred about his heart.

"As for the oath," Orophin continued, "Melpomaen said that Lady believes that it can be withdrawn. Haldir, will you not make the attempt?"

"For yourself, Haldir," whispered Rúmil once more.

"And for 'Maen," added Orophin.

Haldir sat, staring out into the trees, thinking of his little lover. He was so patient, and so kind - so loving in every way. Melpomaen had longed so much for Haldir's love. He had initiated their courting. He had claimed the first kiss. He had taken Haldir to the heights of joy in their first sensual encounter. Could he abandon such love? Could he deny a soul so true? Could he reject so thoroughly the only one who could complete his soul? Ah, 'Maen… sweet 'Maen…

At that moment there was a breeze through the surrounding leaves, and he thought that he heard his name, but it was as a whisper spoken from another land, light and undefined. Was it…? Could it be…? The silver-blue eyes began to glow with tentative hope, and the full lips parted. He looked at his brothers, and took a deep breath as he came to his final decision.

"We - we are yet bound by our duty as wardens but… with both of you… supporting me, then - yes. Yes, I will talk to Lady Galadriel once more, and with her gracious help - and yours - I will - retrace - the path of my life."

And as three pairs of hands clasped one another tightly, Haldir once again thought that there was a murmur upon the wind and a fragrant touch of love - but it could have been but a zephyr of the air…

TBC

Elvish:

melethron - lover (male)
ellon - elf (male)
bereth - spouse
tôren - my brother
Suilad - Greetings
Adar - Father
Elleth - female elf