My Heart's Desire - Part 1. To Wait for you.

Chapter 15. The Way You See Me.


Gildor was floating out of his sleep slowly. He felt strangely reluctant to wake up though, and he struggled to stay under the comforting, warm blanket of drowsiness.

“I know you are awake so there is no use pretending otherwise,” came Glorfindel’s voice.

“Good morning,” Gildor said, blinking.

“It’s afternoon already, as a matter of fact,” Glorfindel informed him.

“Hm? I wonder why I am so sleepy then.”

“Because you are a lazybones, I expect.”

Gildor sat up in his bed and looked around. He felt that there was something wrong about it all. He did not remember how he had got to bed. He did not feel rested in spite of his late awakening. And despite his arch tone, Glorfindel was looking at him with concern. Gildor felt disoriented.

“Have I slept long?” he asked.

“Four days,” Glorfindel answered softly.

And then Gildor remembered everything: the road from Mirkwood, orcs, Haldir…

“Oh my… ” Gildor rested heavily against the headboard of his bed collecting his thoughts. “Is he alive?” he asked after a while.

“Yes.”

“Good. Galadriel won’t be after my hide, then.”

“He is still bedridden, though. I’m sure he’ll be glad to see you.”

“Glad to see me? What are you talking about?” Gildor frowned.

“You are going to visit him, aren’t you?”

Gildor looked at his friend with an open expression of surprise upon his face. “Why should I?”

“It’s only natural, you know. To go and thank a person who saved your life is the least you can do.”

“I did not ask him to do it. And I saved *his* life in return. Surely, he knows it’s the best way to express gratitude?”

Glorfindel looked angry. “Don’t be such a heartless rogue, Naira. That bolt was meant for *you*. Haldir deserves to know you appreciate what he did.”

Gildor’s lips pressed into a thin stubborn line and Glorfindel arched an eyebrow. “You have never been a coward, Naira. What are you afraid of now?”

Gildor looked at him hesitantly. “I’m not afraid. It’s just that every time we get near each other things happen I do not like in the least.”

Glorfindel knew what Gildor meant. “Oh come on! Nothing will happen this time. You do not have to stay long. Just go in, say ‘thank you’ and go out.”

“All right,” Gildor gave in reluctantly. “I’ll think it over. Anyway, I cannot do it today. I do not feel strong enough.”

“I do not believe you,” Glorfindel smirked. “You would have been out of bed long ago if I had not started this conversation.”

Gildor narrowed his eyes and looked at his friend with the expression Glorfindel knew only too well: the Vanya was definitely up to something.

Surely enough, Gildor was quick to prove it. “I’ll strike a bargain with you, Mallos,” he said.

“A bargain? Indeed.” Glorfindel folded his arms. “And what is it that you want?”

“You’ll leave me alone till evening and I’ll find you something pleasant to occupy yourself with during this time.”

“Something like what, exactly?”

Gildor got out of the bed, walked to his saddlebags that were lying in the corner and took a sealed parchment out of one of them. He waved the parchment in the air triumphantly. Glorfindel gasped when he recognized the handwriting on it. “From Legolas?!”

Gildor smiled archly. “Did you think I would return from Mirkwood empty-handed? Well, don’t you want to go to some quiet place now to be able to read and reread it without disturbance?”

“Give!” Glorfindel demanded.

“A deal, then?” Gildor inquired pleasantly, hiding the parchment behind his back.

“All right. But you’ll achieve nothing by procrastinating.”

“Let me judge it for myself,” Gildor retorted and handed the letter to Glorfindel.

Then he headed for the bathroom but stopped abruptly. “Oh, one more thing, Mallos: could you send me some breakfast when you pass the kitchens on your way to a quiet place? Please?”

Gildor came out of the bathroom and was wrapping a towel around his hips when he heard a knock on his door. Ah, breakfast!

“Come in,” he called cheerfully.

The door opened but it was not a servant with a tray that entered the room but the Lady of the Wood.

“Altáriel? What a pleasant surprise.”

Gildor turned to face her and Galadriel found her eyes wandering down his body without her bidding; from his sculptured shoulders, over the hard, lean muscles of his chest and the golden plains of his flat stomach to the luring curves of his hipbones. Oh, yes, she could see why so many ellith and ellyn were drawn to him like moths to fire. The sensuality he radiated was raw and magnetic. There was nothing ethereal about his beauty. His body was an ode to passion. Every line, every curve of it held dark and tempting hints of pleasures, to be found in it. It was a powerful call even she could feel, in spite of her prejudice against her cousin. And yet, Gildor wore his sensuality as casually as his every-day clothes. Galadriel doubted he had any idea of the true power of the impact he made on others. She looked up and met Gildor’s eyes. Her pale face coloured a little at being caught staring.

“I do not do it on purpose,” he said. “And I never did.” He took a bathrobe from the bed and put it on. “Anyway, I do not think you’ve come to appraise my finer points. So what is the reason for your visit? Am I to quit your realm before the sunset?”

“No.” Galadriel gave him a thin smile.

“No? Well, it seems we are not pressed for time then. Would you like to sit down?”

He drew a chair for her and then sat on the edge of his bed. “So, what brought you here?”

“I want to thank you.”

Gildor did not believe his ears. “*You* want to thank *me*?”

Galadriel nodded.

“For what?”

“You saved Haldir’s life.”

Gildor’s eyes became a shade darker. “You pretty well know that he saved my life first.”

Galadriel was looking at him as serenely as ever. “He had a strong reason to do it, and you did not.”

“Hm? What reason?” Gildor was intrigued.

“If you still have not discerned it I am certainly not going to tell you.” Galadriel’s tone was mildly condescending.

“I hate your secretive ways,” Gildor said, somewhat annoyed.

“And I hate your dumbness,” she retorted. “Men! Sometimes you are so shortsighted that you do not see anything beyond the end of your nose.”

“Thanks!” Gildor replied sarcastically. “It’s nice to know your feelings for me are as warm as ever.”

Galadriel merely smiled. Gildor looked at her thoughtfully.

“Tell me something, Altáriel. Why did you send *him*, of all your guardians, when you’d been so bent on keeping him away from me?”

“I did not *send* him.”

“But you allowed him to go, why?”

Galadriel sighed. “I did everything I could to stop him. I even made him look in my… in the Mirror.”

“You did?” Gildor felt suddenly apprehensive. “What did he see?”

“How do I know? They were *his* visions after all.” Galadriel gave him another arch smile. “But I could tell they were not happy.”

“Do you think he knew what would happen on the road?” Gildor’s uneasiness grew even more.

“Whether he went *because* of what he had seen or *in spite* of it – I cannot say. All I know is that he went because he wanted to.”

‘Yes, he did what he wanted to do – this is a thing I can understand,’ Gildor thought. ‘The question is *why* he wanted it.’

He had a nasty chilly feeling in the pit of his stomach, which quite definitely told him he was better off *not* knowing the answer. He looked up at Galadriel who was watching him with her usual unreadable expression on her face.

“Elrond farspoke with me yesterday,” she told him. Gildor was grateful for the change of the subject. “He asked after you. And he said that, actually, Elladan had been the first to feel that there was something wrong with you. It looks like the connection to you he developed in his childhood is still intact.”

“Well, I should be grateful for that, shouldn’t I?” Gildor chuckled. “I would be even more grateful if he stopped calling me stupid nicknames.”

Galadriel’s lips tilted into a half smile. “You do not think he still harbours tender feelings for you, do you?”

“No, of course not! Thank the Valar. He simply enjoys taunting me.”

“Taunting people was a pleasure *you* introd hid him to,” Galadriel remarked nonchalantly.

“Hm, strange. I always thought he has it in his blood and got it straight from *you*.”

They smiled at each other enjoying the rare case of mutual amiability.

“When are you going to leave for Imladris?” Galadriel inquired.

Gildor gave her a mock scowl. “Ah, I knew you would ask it sooner of later. Well, perhaps, in a day or two. I think I’ll be able to stay in the saddle on my own by then.”

“Perhaps, you would like to remain here a little longer?” Galadriel offered. “Arwen is coming to stay with us. You won’t be seeing her for some time. I thought you might wish to wait for her here and meet her before you return home.”

“Oh. When do you expect her?”

“In a week.”

“No. A week is too long, I’m afraid. It’s really time for us to be back in Imladris. But thank you for the offer, anyway. Probably we’ll be able to meet her on our way home.”

“Well, I think I must go now.” Galadriel rose to her feet. “If you change your mind, remember that you are welcome to stay here as long as you wish.”

With that, she left the room. Gildor shook his head slightly as if trying to clear up his thoughts. What was it, right now? Could it really be a peace offering?

He took off his bathrobe in order to put on his leggings and tunic, when there came another knock on the door. He slipped on his bathrobe again and, tying the belt loosely around his waist, opened the door.

“Oh, my… my Lord.” The tray in the maid’s hands tilted dangerously as she found herself faced with the most stunning sight of a half-dressed male she had ever seen.

“Careful!” Gildor steadied the tray and smiled at her.

“I’m sorry, my Lord.” The girl blushed, embarrassed. “Lord Glorfindel asked me… ”

“Yes, I know, my beauty. Thank you. Put it over there, please.”

The girl put the tray on the table, curtsied, shot another quick glance at his bare chest and left.

Gildor sat down to his meal and found all of a sudden that he had no appetite. He once again had the feeling of anxiety and foreboding that he had experienced before his trip to Mirkwood. A weird place, Lórien; filled, like the Mirror she housed, with the memories of the things that had been, and the hints at things that would yet come to pass.

As he was chewing slowly on a piece of cheese, Gildor asked himself what he should do. Should he follow Glorfindel’s advice or just ignore it? He was strongly reluctant to face the young Galadhel. But to leave without saying ‘thank you’ and ‘goodbye’ to him would be certainly cowardly. Gildor sighed. Then he’d better do it right away and be through with it.

Haldir sat in his bed among a heap of cushions, arranged for him by Rúmil. He was alone for the first time since he had woken up from his healing sleep and he relished the quietness and the solitude. It had cost him quite an effort to persuade his brothers to leave him alone for some time. They consented in the end, bury rry reluctantly; and they made him promise he would not try to get up. Haldir looked at the open balcony door longingly. He was sure he was able not only to get up, but to walk out as well. Actually, he considered himself almost fully recovered. True, his wound still hurt but not badly enough for him to play an invalid willingly. For some minutes he toyed with the idea of going back on his word even if he had to face his infuriated siblings later, and the prospect of being bound to his bed. He had to make sure for himself that Gildor was more or less well. All he could get out of his brothers was that the Vanya was still in his healing sleep. Did it mean Gildor had harmed himself so badly, saving Haldir’s life that he needed even more time to recover than Haldir?

Orophin had told him that Gildor had not collapsed until he handed Haldir over to them safely. Haldir sighed. Imagine him being heldGildGildor’s arms all the way and missing it altogether in his unconscious state. Just his damn luck.


There came a soft rap on his door. Who could it be? Certainly not Rúmil. He would have burst in without even a thought of knocking first. While he was deciding if he wanted to see anyone at the moment or not, the knock was repeated, this time a little louder. Oh well…

“Come in,” Haldir called.

“Hello,” Gildor said, opg thg the door. “I thought for a moment you were sleeping.”

Haldir was silent, staring at him in stunned surprise.

Gildor hesitated on the threshold. “If you’d rather I came some other time… ”

“No!” Haldir was finally able to overcome his initial shock. “No, please, come in.”

As Gildor walked closer slowly, Haldir became acutely aware of the fact that he was in bed, dressed in nothing but his bandage and a thin sheet. Involuntarily, he pulled the latter a little higher.

“Do you mind if I sit down for a while?” Gildor asked.

“No, of course not!” Haldir followed Gildor’s every movement with his eyes and his heart missed a beat when Gildor did not take a chair but sat on the edge of his bed instead.

“I admit I’m surprised to find you alone,” the Vanya smiled at h“How“How come your brothers are not standing guard by your bed?”

Haldir smiled back. “I hardly managed to drive them away and give me some peace.”

“They are fiercely protective of you.”

“Oh, that they are.”

“You look much better than you did when I saw you last,” Gildor said. He let his eyes travel down from Haldir’s face to his hands, clasped in his lap. Gildor was genuinely surprised when he noticed that Haldir’s knuckles were white, so tightly was he gripping the sheet. Hm... Was the Galadhel nervous?

Gildor’s wicked imagination immediately offered him a picture of Haldir clutching at the sheets for quite a different and much more pleasant reason. Oh oh, that was a wrong direction of thoughts, as his body was quick to infoim. im. Gildor looked up at Haldir’s face again.

Haldir managed not to squirm under this scrutiny, but barely. He studied the Vanya in return and saw that he was still rather pale and that his hair was slightly damp; he must have taken a bath not long ago. Haldir could not take his eyes off Gildor, well aware that he would not be seeing him so close again.

“How do you feel?” Gildor asked him.

“Much better than I did when you saw me last.”

Gildor chuckled. “When did you wake up?”

“The day before yesterday. I heard you were in healing sleep as well?”

“Yes. In fact,” Gildor’s eyes were suddenly dancing with mischief, “I think we can say now that we slept together on our way back.”

Haldir’s jaw dropped. Was he imagining things or was Gildor actually *flirting* with him?

“I see you are not overenthusiastic about the idea,” the Vanya remarked amusedly. “Oh, forget it!” he hurried to add, when he saw Haldir’s eyes grow even wider.

They looked at eacher ser silently for some time and the atmosphere in the room changed gradually. Inexplicably, the air became too dense and heady for breathing.

“I… ” they began saying together.

Gildor smiled faintly. “You first.”

“I want to thank you for saving my life,” Haldir said and saw Gildor wince slightly.

“Oh, any time,” the Vanya drawled and Haldir distinctly heard sarcasm in his voice. “We are quits now, I believe, as you saved *my* life.” Gildor’s intense green eyes were fixed on Haldir’s face. “Why did you do it, Marchwarden?” he asked. “Are you always so reckless and willing to throw away your life for nothing?”

“What do you mean – for nothing?” Haldir sounded almost affronted. “Do you set so little value on your life, then?”

“Do you set so little value on yours that you thought I was more worthy of living than you?” Gildor looked at Haldir thoughtfully. “The question still stands. Why did you do it?”

‘Because I love you. Because to see you die would have been worse than to die myself. Because there is nothing on Arda I wouldn’t give up for your sake.’ The words almost spilled from Haldir’s lips. Almost.

“I did it instinctively,” he sighed, instead. “I did not think at all at that moment.”

“Hm. You are too impulsive, Marchwarden. This is definitely bad for your health.”

Haldir looked at Gildor’s beautiful face that now wore the detached expression that had become so familiar to him. “You never call me by my name,” he said quietly. “Why?”

Gildor was taken aback. “I don’t?”

“Not even once.”

Haldir watched the Vanya as he seemed to be pondering on the question. Finally Gildor looked up. “When you call things by their real names, they become real.”

Haldir felt perplexed. Now what was *that* supposed to mean?

“I think I must be going.” Gildor rose to his feet. “Get well soon… Haldir.”

He touched Haldir’s cheek with his fingers lightly and left before Haldir could recover his voice. Haldir stared at the closed door and his head was reeling. Valar! Even when Gildor had been cold and disdainful Haldir had no idea how he would live, once the Vanya left. So how on Arda was he to survive the separation now, when Gildor was almost friendly?

Gildor closed the door behind himself and leaned against it, his legs suddenly refusing to support him. He looked at his fingers in stupefied bewilderment: their tips were still prickling from the touch. Haldir’s skin was so soft and warm. Oh, he remembered the feel of the Galadhel’s skin under his hands… Wrong thoughts again! Why was he having them, all of a sudden? He had never seriously considered Haldir as a bedmate. So why start now? But his body refused to pay heed to his reasoning and gave him to understand in clear terms that it found the young elf very attractive and very much desirable. Gildor cursed under his breath.

Oh, how right he had been to dread this visit. His anxiety and unease had been growing constantly since the morning. His instincts screamed, “Danger! Fight or flee!” But what was that he was supposed to fight? He did not understand; it was so confusing. The Galadhel made him feel… weird. His heart was doing funny flip-flops and he could hardly suppress a nervous tremor. Should the circumstances be different, he would probably identify his sensation as fear. As it was now, perhaps it was a result of exhaustion. It had cost him tremendous efforts to behave casually during the visit. And now he again felt weak and cold. Damn. He had been right telling Glorfindel it was too early for him to get out of bed. He had better return to his talan and have some r Sud Suddenly, he remembered about the wine he had brought from Mirkwood. That was exactly the cordial he needed to sustain his failing strength. Somewhat cheered up by the idea, Gildor pushed himself away from Haldir’s door and made for his chamber.

True to his word, Glorfindel returned to their talan only after the blue twilight had fully enveloped the Golden Wood. When he entered the room, it was seemingly empty. But as Glorfindel walked up to the open door to the balcony he found Gildor there, perched on the rails, with his legs dangling on the outer side. There were several empty wine bottles lying around the balcony. Glorfindel was surprised: drinking had never been Gildor’s way to relieve a stress.

“Have you finished all the wine you brought from Mirkwood?” he inquired.

Gildor glanced at him over his shoulder. “Not yet. But I’m working on it.” He drained the remnants of the liquor from the bottle he was holding in his hand, swaying dangerously on his perch in the process.

Glorfindel sighed. “You’ve got enough, I think. Get down.”

Gildor looked at the ground far below the balcony. “It’s a long drop, you know.”

Glorfindel sighed again, came up to him and, wrapping his arms round Gildor’s waist, pulled him back to stand on the balcony floor. Gildor turned about in Glorfindel’s embrace and let his own arms snake around the Elda’s shoulders.

“Take me to bed,” he demanded.

Glorfindel arched an eyebrow. “I trust you still can walk by yourself.”

“No, I mean take me to *your* bed.”

Glorfindel shook his head. “You are drunk.”

“No, just unhappy.”

“And why is that?”

Gildor shoved hard at Glorfindel’s chest, pushing him away. “Stop!”

“Stop what?”

“Behaving like Thranduil.”

Glorfindel stared at him in mute bewilderment.

“Cannot I be bedded nowadays without first having to answer all these stupid whys?”

Gildor marched into the room, Glorfindel followed him. When the Vanya shed his clothes and plopped down on the bed, Glorfindel sat down on the edge of his mattress and looked at him in mild amusement. “I hope you won’t have a headache in the morning.”

“You forget: I never have the-morning-after headaches,” Gildor answered grumpily.

“Of course. And you never get drunk.”

“Never. Hold me?”

Glorfindel shook his head. “You *are* drunk.”

Next day Haldir informed his brothers that he had had enough of being confined to bed. His wound was healing fast and he felt fit to return to his normal life. So first, he went to visit the Lord and the Lady of the Wood who were happy to see him almost fully recovered. And then, he spent the afternoon on the training grounds with his patrol and the evening in Orophin’s talan sharing wine with his brothers.

Wherever he went during the day, he was searching with his eyes for the sight of Gildor, but in vain. Haldir thought that he might not see him again. Maybe it was better that way... But as the day grew older, Haldir became more and more restless. He had a feeling as if he had left something unfinished. He had a strange overpowering urge to see Gildor just one more time and to tell him about his love.

‘Don’t be an idiot!’ Haldir argued with himself. ‘Nothing good will come out of it. You’ll just make a bigger fool of yourself.’


He knew Gildor did not love him so his confession could result only in rejection. So why make himself go through another humiliation? ‘There is no shame in fallin lin love,’ Haldir remembered Lord Celeborn’s words. ‘Besides,’ his inner voice told him provocatively, ‘Gildor did want to know the reason for your sacrifice, didn’t he? So let him know it!’

Haldir felt like his love would burst his heart if he persisted on keeping it inside. So when he left Orophin’s talan, his feet carried him down the stairs without his volition. He was once again drawn, like a fish on a line, to the place where he knew he would find Gildor.

When he came into the glade of the broken oak, Haldir had a brief sensation that time had made some weird loop. Gildor was again sitting on the grass with his back against the trunk and with his head in his hands. But now Haldir knew better than come too close to him without an invitation. Gildor raised his head and then got up. He looked surprised and yet, not surprised at all, as if he had not been expecting Haldir but still were not caught off-guard by his coming. Their eyes looked over the distance and Haldir made himself speak.

“I’m sure you are aware of it by now but I want to voice it, nevertheless. Maybe, if I say it aloud I’ll be finally able to see the entire folly of it and thus, I’ll be able to fight it and overcome it in the end.”

Gildor was in agony. He knew he did not want to hear what Haldir was going to tell him. Even now the Galadhel’s words were hurting him. His pulse was pounding in his ears sending sharp painful bolts through his body. He felt as if something were trying to burst him from within. He wished he could stop Haldir but his voice failed him.

“You wanted to know why I did what I did on our way back,” Haldir went on, “why I value my life less than yours. The answer is simple.” Haldir drew a breath and, still holding Gildor’s eyes, finished, “I love you.”

“Oh, darn!” Gildor managed to get out. “I… I’m sorry, Haldir… I really am.”

Though Haldir thought he was ready for it, it still came as a blow. But the next moment the pain became somehow distant and muted as if he suddenly were looking at himself from the outside.

“Do not grieve, lindë endonyë,” he heard himself saying. “Umis cilmelya i umilyen melë.” [Song of my heart. It’s not your fault you cannot love me.]

Gildor’s world swayed and shattered around him. He looked at Haldir with wild eyes. “What did you say?! But how do you… No!! No, it can’t be! Valar, you can’t be… No, I don’t believe it! No!”

He spun on his heel and fled. Haldir shook his head trying to collect his wits. What was going on? There was definitely something strange taking place. He refused to remain in the dark so he followed Gildor. He did not have to go far. Soon he heard voices and he saw Gildor speaking agitatedly to Glorfindel, whom he must have run into while fleeing from Haldir. The Marchwarden stopped in the deep shadow of a mallorn and listened.

“I knew it!” Gildor fumed. “I knew there was sure to be some catch, some trick!” He slammed his fist into the trunk of a nearby tree. “Damn them!”

Glorfindel caught his other hand before he could damage it as well. But Gildor jerked his hand away.

“Is this what they call keeping a promise? Or is it their idea of having fun?” he cried out, oblivious of the tears that were streaming down his face.

“I’m sure there is an explanation for everything,” Glorfindel tried to pacify him.

“And I would certainly like to know it! Why is it that when *you* were returned, you were returned as the same person. And he… He has nothing of Ermenor: neither his looks, nor his memories!”

“Nothing, but his overpowering love for you,” Glorfindel said quietly.

Gildor stared at him, suddenly bereft of his voice.

Haldir had heard enough. With what the Lady had told him earlier, the pieces fell in together. He tried hard to swallow the lump in his throat that was threatening to choke him. He had no idea w tha that Quenyan phrase he had said to Gildor surfaced from. But he knew quite definitely that he was *not* the one Gildor wanted back so desperately. Suddenly all his pent up jumbled emotions burst out and flared into fiery anger. He marched into the glade.

Gildor gasped and backed away when he saw him and it added oil to Haldir’s flame.

“I am *not* some dead elf’s ghost!” Haldir almost shouted at him. “I’m alive! And painfully alive at that. And I am who I amwillwill *not* act as a substitute for your long lost lover. If you ever want me, you’ll have to accept me as myself, and not as an image of someone else you’re trying to see in me!”

With that, he stormed away. Gildor let out a breath he was not even aware he had been holding.

“What are you going to do now?” Glorfindel asked him quietly.

Gildor heaved a shuddering sigh. “I do not know,” he whispered. “I truly do not know.”

Ellith – elves (female)
Ellyn – elves (male)
Lindë endonyë – song of my heart (Q)
Umis cilmelya i umilyen melë – It’s not your choice you can’ve mve me (Q)