Oathbound, Heartbroken *COMPLETE*

Title: Oathbound, Heartbroken 12/15
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 extraordinaire!
Disclaimer: all rights to the characters belong to JRR
Tolkien – I’m only playing with them.
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.

Author's Note: If any 'Babylon 5' fans are reading this - yes, it was inspired by Delenn's experience in the series 4 episode 'Atonement'!

Chapter 12


Even with the best of intentions and the quick refortifying of the Lothlórien borders, it was another month before the three brothers could quit the Northern Fences together. Haldir had returned alone once, to report to Lord Celeborn, and whilst within Caras Galadhon had been summoned by Galadriel to her grove. Her words had been tender and full of concern when she spoke to him.

"Fortune has not been kind to you, Haldir Celegonion. This unforeseen attack upon our fair realm, shielded so effectively from me by the Dark Lord, placed an intolerable burden upon you that had drastic consequences and great personal cost. Still, you triumphed against the Adversary and have emerged all the stronger. I offer to you once more all my assistance in the Dreamwalking."

Haldir had bowed in gratitude, now eager to accept that which he had once so lightly rejected. Yet he still feared that his separation from his soulmate might be made permanent by the intransigent wrath of Glorfindel and Erestor.

"I long to be reunited with 'Maen, yet I fear that I will cause a rift between fathers and son."

Galadriel had smiled enigmatically, her eyes twinkling with mischief.

"Know you so little of the fortitude of your intended, Haldir? Melpomaen of Imladris is no meek elfling, as you well know. Stand firm together and you *will* emerge as one."

And so it was that the sons of Celegon and Laeriel were now within the Grove of the Mirror with their two bonded spouses, united in a familial desire to heal their beloved Haldir. The two Walkers upon the Path, Haldir and Doron, had fasted that day in preparation for the rites. They were both clad in white silk tunics and loose pants and wore simple slippers upon their feet, so that no discomfort of clothing would impinge upon their consciousnesses. Now they sat upon the green sward, legs folded in easy grace and their hands clasped to each other in a circle of two. At the edge of the grove Orophin sat with Rúmil and Meluiwen, the parents secure in the knowledge that their children slept peacefully in the talan of Meluiwen's sister.

Lady Galadriel took up two silver goblets and to them added sprinklings of herbs in small quantities and varied proportions. She then added a light golden wine, diluted with water from the spring that trickled through the surrounding rock wall of the grove. Carrying the goblets to the two ellyn, she placed them on the ground beside the sitting forms and nodded as they both turned their eyes towards her.

"The power that I now invest in the potion will give potency to the herbs lacing the drink. Within moments of imbibing, the outer world will fade and it will seem that a mist will rise to surround you. A path will appear beneath your feet; you, Haldir, you must take the first step, for it is your memories that are to be invoked. Doron, you must follow. You are both observers through time, invisible and inaudible to those whose history will be told. You may converse, for immediate discussion will aid your enlightenment. Doron, your task will be to extol your objective thoughts on that which you witness. The Dreamwalking will end when all the relevant memories have been visualised, and not before. Acts of both ill and good will be seen; words of pleasure and pain will be uttered; memories of evil and joy reviewed - all these must be experienced before you return to us."

The Lady of the Wood bent over the goblets, a hand hovering above each. The witnessing elves blinked as they thought that they saw a shimmer in the air above the cups, and a sprinkling shower of gold fall into their bowls. Delicate hands brought the rim of the bowl to the walker's lips - the first goblet to Haldir, the second to Doron - and both drank the contents in gulping draughts.

Orophin held tight to Meluiwen's hand, knowing logically that this was a rite of healing, yet he could not suppress a gasp as Doron's head suddenly drooped and his eyes glazed as if in reverie.

Galadriel knelt by the law-brothers, the lace of the train of her dress flowing about her bare feet; the excess of material at the cuffs of her sleeves fell over the dorsum of her hands as she laid them lightly upon the entwined fingers of the ellyn. Taking a deep and calming breath, the daughter of Finarfin exhaled slowly, bringing the questing brothers into the depth of reflections and memories…

****

Haldir blinked his eyes rapidly as the noted path came into focus, glancing up in alarm when he at first could not see his brother's husband through the churning mists. Belatedly he registered the tight grip upon his hand and the mists parted to reveal Doron's enquiring face. The librarian's grey eyes danced in awe and delight at the prospect of this new learning experience, a delight not wholly shared by the Marchwarden. Noticing the reticence in Haldir's silver-blue orbs, Doron squeezed his hand in reassurance.

"Well, we are here, tôren," he said, smiling encouragingly at Haldir. He looked down at the path beneath their feet, then back at Haldir. "It is said that even the longest journey begins with one simple step. It is time to tread this path, Haldir."

Haldir nodded and took a deep breath as he placed his foot forward deliberately. There was no change in the mist and, after glancing back at Doron, the two ellyn began to walk slowly along the trail ahead. They had been walking but a few minutes when the churning haze parted to reveal a scene familiar to them both.

"It is your talan, Haldir!" exclaimed Doron, surveying the room that they now stood in. "Are they your parents?"

Haldir nodded, not daring to try to articulate his feelings through the sudden lump that clogged his throat. Before them was a tall, handsome ellon, slumped dejectedly over the railing of the balcony that surrounded the family talan. His clothes were such that it was obvious that they belonged to an earlier Age. The elleth who walked across the wooden floor was very fair and slender, her pale-gold tresses flowed freely over her slim shoulders and her gown swayed elegantly with her movements. She bore in her arms a child with silver-blonde hair, an elfling of perhaps no more that eight years. Gently she kissed her son's forehead before setting him down on a soft woven rug.

" 'Tis Naneth… and Adar…"

Doron looked at the awe-struck expression upon Haldir's face, and noted the involuntary stretch of his hand towards the parents who had passed to Mandos' Halls more than two thousand years before. The motion halted and the hand dropped as Haldir recognised the futility of the gesture.

Laeriel moved towards her husband, so mournful in his posture as he leant against the balustrade overlooking the tops of the mellyrn of Caras Galadhon. His warrior braids held the silver hair back from his face, and Doron and Haldir could clearly see the grief written upon his features. Laeriel laid her hand softly upon his shoulder and rested her cheek against his strong back.

"Dearest Celegon, you know how much I ache for your grief this day."

The elf nodded, lifting and laying his heavy hand over hers in silent thanks.

"It hurts, Laeriel. Though a hundred years have passed, still this day stabs me through the heart, as surely as the orc blade passed through his. I rue, with all the fibre of my being, the weak and selfish choice I made."

"Choice? You had no choice!" his wife remonstrated angrily. "The way of your heart was denied to you - and to him!"

Celegon shook his head. "Yet Thenin stood firm against his father even as I buckled. If I had not wavered under my father's glowering gaze, then perhaps Thenin would have stayed. He might not have taken the extra, unnecessary duty on the borders - he might not have died…"

"And if my Anoron had not taken the trading trip down the Anduin, and if he had not chosen to treat with those evil humans then my path too would have taken a different course! If, if, if!"

Laeriel turned her husband to face her and looked into his cobalt blue yes before burying herself in his arms. She clung firmly to his chest, and his tunic muffled her voice as she too grieved.

"We both lost the ones who were dearest to our hearts, yet we who were once childhood friends have now found solace in each other, have we not? And in our little Haldir?"

Celegon pressed a light kiss upon the pale blonde hair, tears glistening in his eyes.

"Aye, we have our beloved son. Thank you for him, dear Laeriel. Thank you for becoming my wife - and saving my life."

"As you did for me, meleth. I thank you too."

The mists swirled before them once more and the scene faded back into the recesses of time. Doron turned to see Haldir, his mouth agape in shock. He gently touched the warden's arm, alerting him once more to his presence. Doron looked at him in concern.

"You did not know that your parents were not soulmates? That they had other lovers who died?"

Haldir shook his head numbly, his limbs shaking with the shattering revelations.

"No! Never…" he blurted out. "I did not know - My father? He loved an ellon? A warrior? And Naneth, her love was one of our traders?"

Doron nodded sympathetically. He could see that even this first dream scene had cracked wide all of Haldir's preconceptions of his sire and dam.

"So it seems, yet it also appears that your grandfather was strongly opposed to your father's love for Thenin."

"But - but why? Soul-deep love amongst the Firstborn is the gift of Eru! None can gainsay it, not even the Valar."

'Yet you once did,' his law-brother mused as he looked closely upon the warden's face. They were elven, immortal, ageless - but Doron could have sworn he saw faint lines of aging in the skin around the silver-blue orbs. Lines of tension, of sorrow, of loss. 'We will prevail, dearest brother,' he thought. 'I will give you back your 'Maen…'

Another thought passed through his mind, a vague twinge at the edges of his consciousness concerning a recent conversation about the unrestricted love of the Eldar and its denial…No, he could not quite recollect it, but he knew that it was important. As was the next step that they must take. They were barely begun - they should not dally. He was Haldir's Seer and the completion of the Dreamwalking was paramount for the well-being of his charge.

"We must walk again, tôren, and see where the path takes us next."

They turned to the trail once more, treading carefully to greet the next exposition to form out of the mists. The new scene was still set within the Golden Wood and was of two ellyn walking the winding pathways of the gardens of the city. One elf carried a newborn babe in his arms, and ahead of them ran a young boy - Haldir - chasing the butterflies that hovered amongst the colourful flowers. The elves conversed, but it was obvious that the dialogue was not a happy one.

"Orophin - a good, strong name." The elder elf smiled, gazing fondly upon the baby in Celegon's arms. "Aye, a fitting tribute to our king!"

Doron nudged Haldir, who stood spellbound at the sight of the speaker. "Do you know who he is?" the librarian asked. Haldir nodded.

"Aye, he is Brannon, my paternal grandfather. I always feared him, for he could be strict in his ways and rules." They hushed as Celegon spoke for it seemed that he was not pleased with his father's words and was now angrily refuting them.

"Nay, his name is his own! And my king is Amdir not Oropher, as my home is here in Lothlórien. I owe no allegiance to that over-proud elf!"

Brannon's face darkened, and Haldir had recollections of his grandfather's infamous wrath. Brannon was furious with Celegon's vehement remarks.

"We are Sindar and Oropher is our king!"

"Nay, not mine! Of you had wanted that oppressive noble as your monarch then perhaps you should have kept us in the Greenwood - then I would have been truly immersed in his dictatorial ways and my heart would not have been rent in two by compliance with yours - and his - evil demands!"

Celegon veritably spat out these words, causing Brannon to recoil, and the baby Orophin to wail in protest. Celegon immediately began to sooth his second-born son, clucking softly and stroking the downy blond head.

"Hush, my little Oro. Be at peace, little one."

As Celegon uttered the comforting words, Haldir saw Brannon smirk in obvious derision. Glancing down at his younger self who was oblivious to the interplay around him, the warden was amazed that the young child could have absorbed this altercation into his innocent subconscious. Doron tugged at his sleeve, alerting him to the adults' exchange once more.

"Well," drawled Brannon snidely, "it *does* seem that you are fading." He gestured at the two children, so alike to their father; obviously he was dismissing Celegon's love for his soulmate as a youthful folly. The warrior winced, torn by his beautiful and sensual memories of love and desire for his deceased melethron, and by his nurturing devotion to his beloved sons. Still he stood firm against his domineering father.

"Were it not for the generosity of Laeriel and her steadfast support then yes, I would probably have faded as would she have, from her own grief. That I had not yet bonded to Thenin makes no difference to me - Thenin was and is my soulmate. But as warriors we knew the inherent dangers of our duty. It is only in adherence to a joint promise that I remain in Middle Earth, for we swore that if one should die then the other would live a full life in his honour - and so I do. Laeriel gave me that chance and my sons hold me here in their love and helpless need."

Celegon looked directly at his father, daring him to refute his next words.

"Yet when I sail to Valinor it will not be in Laeriel's arms that I will find my rest but, if Námo is kind, the strong and loving embrace of my Thenin."

The fury in Brannon's voice broke through his formerly tight self-control.

"You would leave your wife? You would reject the mother of your children, and see their distress at their abandonment?"

Celegon turned his head slowly in deliberate negation.

"Laeriel longs and hopes for the rebirth of Anoron, and it is to him that she will cleave. As to our sons, before I leave this earth I will teach them that love is beyond restrictions of gender and race, and is indeed the meeting of fëar. They will not know of the oppression of kings and the repression of truth. They are Silvan, and they shall be free to live their own lives and make their own choices. Not mine or yours."

Haldir's father turned once more to his infant son, rocking him tenderly in his arms. The scene began to fade, but not before the Dreamwalkers saw Brannon turn in speculation to the elfling playing happily upon the grassy turf, and a calculating gleam entered the Sinda's eyes…

Tears ran down Haldir's cheeks, and Doron could only take his husband's brother into his waiting arms, rocking him as gently as Celegon did Orophin. Long minutes passed until Haldir raised his head and by his expression indicated his need to continue. They did not speak, for there was no need. The cause of Haldir's false assumption of his father's wishes had been made clear and was only confirmed by the next few dénouements, where they saw how Brannon had spent hours with his eldest grandson unbeknownst to Celegon. His smooth and calculating words had impressed upon the elfling's psyche as the Sinda delineated an ellon's responsibility to a wife, a family and his lord. Like a sponge Haldir's young mind had soaked up the steady dripping of the many one-sided conversations that had been initiated by Brannon. Soon however, in the space of a few years to Doron's surprise, Brannon faded from the scenes. Haldir enlightened him as to the cause.

"My grandfather returned to the Greenwood. I can see now that he was unhappy in Lothlórien and probably was more suited to Oropher's realm."

Doron concurred, especially as he had now remembered the conversation that he and Haldir had had over three months earlier. "Yes, it was Oropher who had denied the elves of his realm of the right to wed without procreation - and made unlawful the joining of two males."

The next viewing was as painful to Haldir as the first two had been, for it was the conversation that he had recalled in his talan that night - the night when he had first pleasured himself with the thought of Melpomaen and had ended in tears upon the hard wood floor of his room. He heard his innocent declaration - and truly heard for the first time the sage and urgent advice of his father - and the aching pain and anger behind the words.

"… I was raised by a Sinda, and the values and teachings of the Sindar were most firmly embedded within me by my father. Those values have -* ruined* - my life. .. Listen to your heart, Haldir, though do not let it dictate your every step in life. Allow it to speak when the time is right and follow it, no matter what the consequences..."

Haldir gasped. "That was not the word he used! He said 'ruled', not 'ruined'!"

Doron pulled Haldir to face him, his hands gripping firmly to the warrior's shoulders. "Maybe not, mellon nín, but perhaps it is what he meant to say? We have heard of his love for Thenin, of the soul-binding endurance of that relationship. He wanted for you that which he could never have. I cannot agree with him about the ruination of his life for he truly loved his family, but it was obvious that he yearned for the love he had lost.

"Perhaps Celegon did *not* want you make that oath, Haldir, for it seems to me that he would never have accepted it. If that is the case, then surely your oath is invalid? If you are free of it, Haldir, then you can wed your 'Maen!"

Haldir looked at him, his eyes wide in disbelief. "Free? Truly, Doron?" He shook his head, uncertain of this interpretation. "Yet it is but a technicality. I swore the oath in good faith, and a change of intentions does not invalidate the words. I still feel bound - surely even if he did not accept it, it still has power - it still has force…?"

Doron did not know. He wanted to shake Haldir, force him to accept this reprieve for that is what he felt it to be in the depths of his heart. Somehow he knew that what he had said was true, but convincing his law-brother would not be easy. "This is but my interpretation, Haldir. I feel that you are free but until that is writ in truth upon your heart then no, it still binds your mind, if not your soul. The Lady will tell us when we return."

Haldir looked around at the white cloud in which they were enfolded. "But if as you say I am free of the oath, then why are we still here? Surely the Dreamwalking is over?"

Doron gently patted the arms where he had grasped but moments before, hesitant to speak his next words.

"I feel that you are free of your oath, meldir - but you are not yet free of your pain. We have yet to see the time of your initiation into the corps of the Galadhrim."

Haldir moaned, twisting in the librarian's grip to hide the face that was already swollen from the many tears he had shed. "Ai no! Oh Elbereth, please, no more…"

Doron held Haldir close, kissing his soft hair and rubbing his hand gently against the tense spine. He murmured words of comfort. "I will be with you, Haldir. I will give of my own strength to sustain you in your trial."

The feared memory did not come next. Instead they saw a procession of years when childhood playmates became staunch friends, then erstwhile lovers. The first kiss of Thalaglar and Haldir was gentle and sweet, warm in its loving innocence - and unintentionally observed by Celegon. He drew his son aside, giving him warning.

"My son, I would be wary of your infatuation with Thalaglar. I do not believe his family - his father - will be receptive to the idea of your love."

The youthful Haldir had not been of a mind to heed the words of his father, for this was an act of young rebellion, as well as a fight against his own demons in the form of the inhibitions generated by his grandfather's half-forgotten instruction. He was young and heedless, and in this way he fought guilt unfounded.

The drunken, fumbling liaison came next.

Haldir crushed Doron to him, crying as hysterically as had his younger self when copulation became violation. Not even Doron's hands covering his ears muffled the agonised screams - or the frantic apologies of the immature Thalaglar, torn from his sodden lust by the sight of the copious blood pouring from the injured Haldir.

Shocked troopers had carried Haldir back to his parents' talan, traversing the back-ways of the city to avoid exposing their inadvertent part in this ruination. Haldir was laid upon a couch, vomiting the beer slops that lay in heavy sickness on his stomach; yet not succeeding in expelling the darkness that now lay upon his soul. Haldir's father had expounded his horror at his son's rape - and his rage at his Sindar forebears.

"Ai no! Oh my son, my little boy! Haldir, oh ion nín - I warned you, I did try…Thalaglar's father is your grandfather's contemporary from the Greenwood - he holds the same prejudices against the love of ellyn. He taught his sons naught of the joys of that love, and they know nothing of the precautions to be taken."

Laeriel looked up in anger and grief as she swabbed Haldir's forehead.

"Does this need to be told now? Haldir is hurt, torn apart! He needs comfort, not confessions!"

Celegon wept, knowing that his wife was right, and he knelt beside his son to remove the stained leggings so that he could help clean and mend the physical wounds. He could not have known of the lasting damage caused by the psychological trauma, wreckage that would litter the centuries. Nor did he see a young elfling depart from his silent observation in the doorway of the bedroom.

Through his tears Celegon moaned again, but it was not to his wife or son that he spoke.

"Ah Thenin, ind nín, fëa nín - how can it be that I lost my heart to you, and my son has lost his virginity to your late-born brother? Our fathers' ruined our lives and love - is it my son's fate to be sacrificed to the hateful notions of a Sindar king? Nienna, Lady of Sorrows, hear my prayers for my beloved son. Of your mercy, send him your healing balm."

As the scene faded Haldir and Doron looked at one another in stupefied shock, in a silence that was finally broken by Haldir.

"Thenin and Thalaglar were kin? As I thought that I loved Thal, so my father is soulmate to his elder brother?"

"Aye, so it seems - it was fate indeed that intervened that night. You and Thalaglar were not meant to be." Doron paused, regarding the Marchwarden closely. "Haldir, what happened to Thalaglar? Why did he not make amends?"

Haldir hung his head, avoiding Doron's intuitive stare.

"He tried to apologise - I heard that later - but his father had him locked into his room until arrangements could be made to send him to the Greenwood. He did not - love - me in the way that I had hoped, for he did not try too hard to protest his imprisonment but, so I believe, used it as an excuse to avoid me in his shame. The whole family went in the end. In later years I heard that he had wed and had sired two children. He died in the Last Alliance with his father - and my grandfather too - as part of Oropher's futile and untimely assault. My father died as well, but as part of Lothlórien's guardians."

The silence fell heavily once more as they stood in the unfolding blankness of the white fog. Doron looked around but, save for the path beneath their feet, there was nothing to be seen. He had thought at the start of the journey that there would be a dampness awaiting them in the mists, or a bone-chilling cold - but there had been nothing of the sort. There had been no external distractions from the heart-rending recollections of the Marchwarden and, with each memory, Doron had felt his love and admiration for his brother-in-law increase.

For a thousand years Haldir had been a presence in his life - as a strong yet kind ellon; a firm and fair leader of his troops; an understanding and loving brother; he was caring and empathic as a lover of the many ellith he had courted. Only in the past decade had Doron felt the shadow fall upon him as Haldir had despaired of finding a true companion to complete his life. All had welcomed the arrival of Melpomaen, but the wild excesses of joy and despair had finally revealed the anguish that Haldir had somehow controlled since his majority. Only an elf of astounding self-will and amazing courage could have withstood the insistent urges to allow fading to come to pass - most elves who had been subjected to such treatment would have passed to Mandos' Halls within months of the despoliation. Yet Haldir had survived. Not only that, but he had taken on the role of father to his young brothers; he had forged a long and distinguished career and had gained the respect of rulers and lords in all the elven realms of Middle Earth. He was indeed an ellon worthy of great praise.

It was Haldir who stirred first, looking about in bewilderment.

"Is there no more? Are we free to return? Why do the mists not part to allow us to wake?"

Doron looked about him. "I do not know. Perhaps it is as any other journey, and we must walk the path to its completion."

He looked expectantly at Haldir and together they turned and began to walk once more upon the path. It seemed that their reasoning was correct for soon a gap appeared in the former void that resolved and enlarged to reveal the grove of the mirror ahead of them. They could see their bodies tended by Galadriel and watched by their concerned family. Smiling in relief, Doron turned happily to Haldir - but then stopped in surprise. The Marchwarden had turned to face the way they had come, and his expression was one of wonder and joy. Doron looked to see what had delighted Haldir so but saw only the white mists.

"Haldir?"

There was no response - at least, not to him. Instead Haldir raised his hand and stretched it out in repetition of that first time of seeing his parents, so many memories ago. The full lips parted and his words were as a breathy exhalation.

"Ada? Nana?"

Doron saw nothing, but Haldir was obviously enthralled. He seemed to listen intently to his unseen parents. A single tear rolled down a cheek that was already reddened with too many shed tears, but the smile on his face was almost beatific.

"Oh Ada, thank you! Thank you! I love you Ada, Nana. I am so glad that you have all found your happiness. I will bring 'Maen to you when it is our time to travel, and Orophin and Rúmil too! And this is Doron, your son-in-law!" The Marchwarden gestured to Doron. "Yes, and Meluiwen and the children will come too. I love you! Navaer!"

Long did Haldir weep and smile before turning to Doron, who wept also for the poignant vision Haldir had received. Once more he opened his arms as he smiled at Haldir, and the joyful warrior fell into his arms - as they both fell out of the Dream.

****

Orophin gasped as Haldir fell into Doron's arms and the two elves, who had been as weeping statues throughout their meditations, collapsed onto the grass. Galadriel slumped too, ejected from her controlling trance when the brothers fell.

"Doron!"

The Galadhel leapt to claim his husband even as Rúmil and Meluiwen gathered Haldir into their arms. The Lady breathed in short gasps, trying to collect her thoughts, and carefully observed the two participants of the ritual. It was but moments before they stirred from their stupor and, at a quiet request of Galadriel, Rúmil crossed to the spring to retrieve three cups of cool, reviving water. The questers and the elven queen were soon composed again, although Haldir remained silent as he curled against Rúmil. Galadriel spoke.

"Thus is the Dreamwalking complete. Will the Walkers speak of the truths that they witnessed, and the conclusions drawn?"

Doron looked at Haldir but the Marchwarden had averted his eyes in weary refusal. It was too painful and draining for him to recall so soon. The librarian nodded in understanding.

"I will speak," he said softly.

The telling was long and accurate, retrieved from an ordered mind and interposed with the interpretations that they had assigned to each scene. By the end of the tale all but Galadriel were weeping quietly in sorrow for Haldir's hurts, and in love for their departed parents. Doron looked at Haldir once more.

"There is one last part, but Haldir must tell of it for he saw it, but I did not. It was a vision for him alone."

At the expectant query Haldir finally raised his head.

"I saw Nana and Ada in a far distant land - of greens and golds, of tall trees and rolling hills. They were with their respective lovers, Nana enfolded in the arms of Anoron, Ada clasping the hand of Thenin. They spoke of their continuing love for me - for us all, including your children, Rúmil. They are happy that we have found our life's partners, including my 'Maen. And Adar reaffirmed that my oath was ill-spoken and that he never wanted it. And that I am free of it." He turned to Galadriel. "I do not know if my vision was true, or only my own wishful thinking."

Galadriel smiled and laid her hand upon Haldir's.

"It was none of my doing, but I felt their presence too. I sensed the words that were spoken by your father, and they were spoken in love - and to free you from the binding chains of your ill-founded oath. Whether they are in Mandos or reborn to Valinor I do not know, but the vision was true, and a gift of the Valar so that you could finally gain a peace that you deserve. You are free to wed whom you wish, Haldir Celegonion.

"Now go, my Marchwarden. Let Rúmil and Meluiwen take you to their talan to rest, for you should not sleep alone this day. Sleep long, and wake knowing that your future is bright."

Haldir nodded in thanks and allowed his brother and sister to lead him from the sheltered grove. Doron and Orophin waited, for it was apparent that Galadriel wished to speak with them alone. When the others had gone, she turned to face Doron.

"You have been a true brother to Haldir this night, Doron, and a perfect companion throughout his trial. His healing has begun, his oath dismissed - but there is more to be done. I place my trust in you once more, Doron. Let your love with Orophin be his example for his new life with Melpomaen. Let your love be his teaching. Bring him the knowledge that he needs - both of you."

Her lips curled in secret mischief, a grin that was echoed by Doron's. Laughing lightly, she kissed them in turn upon the forehead then left them as she exited the grove.

Orophin turned to his husband in confusion. "What does she mean, Doron? What must we teach Haldir?"

Doron shook his head and burst out laughing.

"Oh, this is going to be *fun*!"

He took Orophin's hand and leaned to whisper into his ear - then soothed his bereth when he released an explosion of shocked denial.

"Come now, my sweet - we have much to organise…"

Orophin looked at Doron intently for a moment, then he too laughed and grasped his husband around the waist as they left to return home - and prepare for the days ahead.


TBC


Elvish:

ellyn - male elves (pl)
tôren - my brother
elleth - female elf
Naneth - Mother
Adar - Father
ellon - male elf (sing.)
mellyrn - mallorn trees (pl)
meleth - love
melethron - male lover
fëar - souls
mellon nín - my friend
meldir - friend
ion nín - my son
ind nín - my heart
fëa nín - my soul
Ada -Daddy
Nana - Mum
Navaer - farewell
Bereth - spouse