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

Chapter 16. My Heart's Desire.


Gildor was able to fall asleep only after Glorfindel forced him to drink some wine with sleeping potion added to it. It kept him in slumber through the night and the next morning, almost till the middle of the day. As he dragged himself out of the bed finally and headed on unsteady legs for the bathroom, Gildor grumbled, “I honestly think we should thank the Valar for your decision to become a warrior, Mallos. You would make a lousy healer.”

Only after a cool bath he feullyully awake at last and was more or less ready to face his problems.

“Do you want to talk?” Glorfindel asked him.

But Gildor did not want to talk. What he needed was time and quiet, for he had to think everything over. So Glorfindel left him alone in their talan and went away. Gildor walked out onto the balcony and sat down on the floor with his back against the wall. He closed his eyes, recalling the events of the previous evening. t hat had been a shock to hear Haldir say the very words Ermenor had told him at their parting. Even now the memory of it sent shivers up Gildor’s spine. But he still was as much sure as yesterday that Haldir was *not* Ermenor reborn. He could not be. Nothing, absolutely nothing proved it. Gildor simply knew that he would have felt it at once, would have recognized his friend in the young elf, should it have been so. Haldir had been right: he was who he was.

The question that puzzled Gildor was how Haldir knew Ermenor’s exact words. And he said them in Quenya, too. So – how? Or maybe, why? Why would a young Silvan elf choose to speak in the ancient tongue of the Noldor, all of a sudden? Did he know the language at all? Though, if he had done it not by his own will, then why would the Valar make him do it? Was it a sign? But then, a sign of what? Gildor’s eyes flew open. Were they trying to make him understand that Ermenor would *not* come back? Ermenor would not come back… He stared into the distance blindly. It meant he had failed him after all. And it also meant he still did not know what his own heart desired.

Strangely, this conclusion brought his thoughts back to Haldir. Gildor fidgeted uneasily. Every time he thought about the Galadhel or tried to analyze the emotions Haldir provoked in him, Gildor felt some kind of block, some inner obstruction that made him flinch and bawayaway. Now his usual reluctance was there again, and stronger than ever. He felt confused, apprehensive and even afraid. But Gildor knew that this time he would not be able to back off. He would finally have to face the demons dwelling in the dark corners of his heart, though he had a foreboding that the things he was about to uncover were likely to change his life drastically.

Gildor took a deep breath, trying to relax and to think calmly and reasonably. But his mind just went blank, refusing to work at all. He stared at the trees around him with unseeing eyes for some time. Then he sighed and rose to his feet. He knew he would need help.

Gildor was grateful to find the glade of the Mirror empty. He drew water and poured it into the bowl.

‘Well, Melian,’ he thought, ‘your Mirror always showed me myself. Now it is exactly what I need. Please, help me. Show *me* to me.’

He closed his eyes for a moment, summoning his courage, and then looked into the Mirror. At first, its surface was blank. Then images started to form, changing each other swiftly; ima whi which he could not only see but *feel* as well.

~ ~ ~
Glorfindel and he being met by Lórien guardians; himself almost choking on the berries he was eating as he set eyes on Haldir for the first time.

~ ~ ~
Haldir and he singing at the party; butterflies fluttering in his stomach as Haldir suddenly kissed his hand.

~ ~ ~
Haldir giving him “a ride” down from the guest talan; the solidity and warmth of Haldir’s body, the confident strength of his arm, wrapped around his waist.

~ ~ ~
Himself being caught in the implacable circle of Haldir’s arms in the glade of the broken oak; pungent, intoxicating and alarming sensations Haldir’s touches were sending through his body; his fear and fury at Haldir for making him feel that way.

~ ~ ~
Haldir on his knees, naked, shaking, looking up at him with sombre eyes; his own resentment, confusion and guilt.

~ ~ ~
Thranduil and he making love; Ithil’s light changing the gold of Thranduil’s hair into mithril and filling his soul with strange longing.

~ ~ ~
Cold horror gripping his heart at the sight of Haldir sinking to the ground with a crossbow bolt in his chest.

~ ~ ~
Haldir looking at him from the edge of the glade. “The answer is simple: I love you.” Himself in agony, in panic, on fire…
~ ~ ~

Gildor felt as if some dam burst inside him. He was gasping for air and trying not to sway under the sudden assault of the powerful flood of strange, unfamiliar emotions. What… what was it? What did it mean? He could no longer pretend he did not feel anything for Haldir. But what was it that he felt? He hardly dared dress his suspicion in words. It could not… it just could not be *love*, could it? He would have known if it were, would have recognized it, wouldn’t he?

‘Oh yes?’ his inner voice sneered at him, sounding exactly like Galadriel. ‘Have you ever been in love before, to be so sure?’

So… then… it *could* be true? His heart made a wild somersault. He was in love…?

“I love him.” He said the words aloud slowly as if savouring their taste on his tongue.

He felt a sudden wave of overwhelming joy wash over him. Even when he had been just an elfling in his second century, he looked at his parents and knew that he wished to find his soul-mate one day to share love, the like of theirs. As he grew older he started looking around him impatiently, searching for the elf, whom his heart would recognize as the one and only. He would have given much for Ermenor to be that elf. But it was not meant to be. So Ermenor went away and was killed. And since that moment, to get Ermenor back became his paramount wish. Gildor gave up all other hopes and yearnings for the sake of this one. He dedicated his life to this only aspiration, sacrificing the dream of love for the debt of friendship without hesitation.

But now it looked like he had failed to root out his longing for true love completely, he had just pushed it into the darkest and the remotest corner of his heart. It seemed, though, the Valar had not been deluded and saw it for what it was: his truest heart’s desire. And *that* was the wish they had granted him.

He could never imagine, even in his wildest dream, that such a thing could be possible. He was so much unprepared for this turn of events that he had not recognized the truth, though it had been staring him straight in the face. The Valar had to put Ermenor’s words into Haldir’s mouth to shock Gildor into realizing it.

Gildor was shaking all over. He grasped the rim of the bowl to steady himself. He took several deep breaths for his pulse to calm down. So, he had failed Ermenor in the end. He had failed in his attempt to have his friend returned… But frankly? Right at the moment he did not care. He felt suddenly so light and buoyant as if he had really divested himself of heavy armour. He felt like he could kick off the ground and soar into the sky. He felt happy; such a rare, almost forgotten sensation. Gildor still could hardly believe this astounding revelation: he was in love and he was loved in return! Unexpected tears pricked at his eyes, surprising him. He shook his head, smiling.

‘Look at me. I haven’t cried forlennlennia and here I am, doing it for the second time in two days.’

He cast an accidental glance into the Mirror and was amazed to see its surface ripple again. He watched, intrigued, and in a moment his tears dried up.

“What the…? I cannot believe it!” He stared in the bowl, stunned. “All this time… Valar! You *are* playing me as a pawn! And to think that I was so grateful to you just a moment ago!”

With a strangled noise of pure frustration he stormed away from the glade. When Gildor came back to his talan, he found Glorfindel waiting for him.

“Where have you been?” his friend asked him.

“I went to look into the Mirror.” There was some strange tinge in Gildor’s voice.

“I see… ” Glorfindel said cautiously. “And?”

“Ermenor *is* returned.”

“Oh! You mean Haldir is… ”

“… *not* Ermenor. Ermenor lives in Valinor. He’s been living there for quite a while already, as it appears. But the funniest thing of all, Glorfindel, is that he is…” Gildor gave him a mirthless smirk, “*bound*!”

Glorfindel looked at him, shocked.

“Do you know what it means?” Gildor asked him. Glorfindel just stared back in dumbfounded silence. “It means he does not love me any more,” Gildor went on excitedly. “He is happy without me. I do not have to blame myself for his ruined life any longer. Neither do I have to strive to make up for it. I’m free!”

Glorfindel was trying to digest all the information Gildor had poured on him. “Er… well… congratulations!” he said at last. “So what are you going to do about it? Your freedom, I mean. Are you going to give Haldir a chance now?”

Gildor gave him a faint smile. “The question is: will *he* give now a chance to *me*?”

Haldir’s anger burned out as quickly as it had flared up. When he returned to his talan, he felt drained and hollow. His inner void was back, and even colder than before. ‘If you ever want me…’ Whom was he trying to fool? Gildor had never wanted him and he never would. And now, after he had lashed out at him like that, his chances with Gildor were even smaller than ever. He remembered Gildor’s confused eyes, framed with long lashes, spiky with tears. He suddenly felt such a bastard that it made him sick. It looked like he had a knack for messing up things in everything that concerned the Vanya.

The next day Haldir was so self-withdrawn and gloomy that his brothers thought his wound was hurting him again. They kept on urging him to go home and lie down till he finally snapped at them, telling them to mind their own business and to leave him alone. They did leave him alone after that, Orophin looking more worried than ever and Rúmil cursing bloody Noldorin blades.

The rest of the day Haldir was pondering hard on what was happening to his life and what he was to do about it. It had been all very well to declare in the heat of rage that he was who he was. But now he could not help feeling doubtful. It was with trepidation and even fear that he looked into his soul trying to remember if he had ever had any feelings, dreams or memories, which could be considered not quite his own. No, to his profound relief, he could say that he had never experienced anything of the kind. The fëa living in his body was entirely his and no one else’s. He did not think there was even a slightest chance he could be Gildor’s Noldorin friend reborn.

The trouble was, though, that to be – or rather – to become Ermenor was the only way for Haldir to gain a place at Gildor’s side and in Gildor’s heart. But to do it meant to give up his own self, everything he was. Somehow, it looked even more frightening than to die. Haldir was facing an agonizingly difficult choice: to lose hlf flf for the sake of his love o pro preserve his selfhood and to endure eternity without Gildor. Both alternatives were equally depressing...

Gildor passed the evening in solitude, trying to come to terms with his newly acquired knowledge about Ermenor’s fate and his own heart’s secrets. He spent some time in the glade near the waterfall where he had once picnicked with Glorfindel and Celeborn, then he strolled through the forest purposelessly and finally ended up in the cleg ofg of the broken oak. He walked up to the tree and stroked its bark.

“Hello.”

The tree whispered a greeting in return. Gildor found a notch his dagger had left in the trunk.

“I’m sorry,” he murmured, touching it with his fingers.

The oak assured him that it was all right because that part of its trunk was numb and did not feel anything.

“Yes, I know how it is – not to feel anything,” Gildor sighed.

“But now is your time for blooming?” the tree asked.

Gildor laughed softly. “Yes, it looks like it.”

“Haldir,” the tree whispered.

“Haldir,” Gildor agreed and it took him a moment to realize that the name had been uttered in greeting. He whirled around. The Marchwarden was standing on the edge of the glade. Gildor felt heat creep up his neck and face and wondered if he was blushing. He leaned back against the oak trunk, unable to move or to speak. He watched Haldir silently as he walked closer and stopped merely three steps away from him.

Haldir looked at the Vanya, taking in his opened shirt and damp hair, the colour on his cheeks and the wariness in his eyes. Was Gildor expecting him to fly into a temper again, Haldir wondered? He sighed and spoke.

“I do not care whom you see when you look at me,” he said. “I’ll be whoever you want me to be, if this is the price I have to pay for being with you. If you will have me… ”

The next moment Gildor had him in his arms and was kissing him silent. Haldir’s surprise was so great that he could but sink into the embrace and part his lips involuntarily for Gildor’s searching tongue. Gildor threaded his fingers through Haldir’s silvery hair clutching at his skull, and kissed him with savage desire, not giving a damn that their lips were bruised and cut on their teeth. Gildor’s taste and scent seemed to unleash something inside Haldir and blood started to sing in his ears. He kissed back hungrily and passionately, wadding his s ins in Gildor’s hair in turn and holding him in place, as his tongue darted out to push deep into Gildor’s mouth. The Vanya opened readily to him, allowing him to dominate their kiss now. Haldir felt Gildor’s lips soften and his jaw relax to let him in. A moan rumbled deep in the young Galadhel’s throat as he let himself drown in the intoxicating sensations. His hands started roaming Gildor’s body, finding their way under the silk of his opened shirt. The Vanya brought his arms down and shrugged the slippery fabric off his shoulders. Haldir moaned again at the feel of Gildor’s satiny skin under his palms. But then he was pushed away and Gildor was tugging at his tunic.

“Off, off!” he demanded breathlessly.

In a flash the offending garment was gone and Haldir jerked Gildor back, desperate for the kissing to continue. They both gasped as heated flesh made contact with heated flesh; then their mouths were sealed on each other once more. Gildor was again thest tst to break apart.

“Strip!” he half commanded, half begged, kicking off his boots and swiftly unlacing and peeling off his leggings.

Haldir swallowed hard as the Vanya stood in front of him in the full glory of his nakedness.

“Oh, let me!” Gildor almost moaned in impatience. He batted away Haldir’s fumbling hands and skilfully undid the ties on his leggings. “Take them off! Now!”

Haldir obeyed and the next moment he was on his back on the grass and Gildor took his mouth again, so hard their teeth clashed. Haldir felt the silk-wrapped steel of Gildor’s erection press against his thigh and the whole of his body tightened at the feel. His own member twitched on his stomach appreciatively. He squirmed, aching for more contact. Gildor shifted on top of him, bringing their straining arousals together, and a bolt of fire seemed to shoot through them at the touch. They broke the kiss, crying out and gasping for air. Haldir gripped Gildor’s taut buttocks making him grind his hips against Haldir’s, and Gildor felt his entire body thrum with passion as liquid fire rushed trough his veins. Valar! It was almost more than he could take!

“I would have you now,” he said hoarsely, looking down at the young elf.

Haldir’s heart made a curious thump and roll. Gildor saw Haldir’s eyes clear up instantly; the mist of desire disappeared from them, replaced by a look of apprehension.

“Or maybe you’d rather have me?” the Vanya off.
.

He took hold of Haldir’s side and rolled them both over so that Haldir rested on top of him now, chest to chest. Then he let his legs fall apart, bringing them into even closer contact.

“I hope you know what to do,” he sighed in mock concern.

Haldir laughed breathlessly, relishing the tinge that raced across his skin from the pleasure of feeling Gildor’s lithmuscmuscular form under him. He raised himself on his elbows and rocked his hips tentatively, his eyes darkening at the heady moan that tore from Gildor’s throat.

“Yes, like this,” Haldir murmured huskily against Gildor’s parted lips. “Let me hear that again.”

He repeated his motion and greedily swallowed the delicious noises of pleasure spilling from Gildor’s lipildoildor tilted his head up, baring his throat in the ancient sign of submission. Haldir made a low sound of satisfaction at the sight and dipped his head to suck at the golden skin and to leave his mark of possession on it. Then he moved lower, nipping at Gildor’s collarbones and swirling his tongue in the smooth hollow between them. Gildor curled his legs around Haldir’s, arching himself up against him. His breathing came heavy and a fine film of perspiration was forming on his forehead and throat.

“Quit the foreplay,” he growled. “I want you now!”

“Eager, aren’t you?” Haldir smirked, though his eyes flashed pure need.

“As if you aren’t,” Gildor retorted and, to accentuate his words, he lifted himself off the grass to rub his weeping erection against Haldir’s. Haldir hissed as the heat between his tense thighs increased tenfold. He would like nothing better than to slam hard into the welcoming body beneath him, lose himself in the sensation of being encased in its heated luxury, but… Gildor saw confusion in Haldir’s eyes.

“What?”

“I have nothing to prepare you with,” Haldir admitted, embarrassed.

Gildor gave an impatient huff, pushed Haldir off of himself and sat up, looking around. Then he reached out, snatched up one of his boots and produced a small vial from it.

“A dagger in your right boot and a phial of oil in the left one. You seem to be well-equipped for a meeting of any kind,” Haldir remarked, half amused, half impressed.

“Millennia of experience, what do you think,” Gildor smirked and pressed the vial into Haldir’s hand. Then he leaned forward to lick at his lips sensually. “So where were we?”

“You were here.” Haldir pushed Gildor down on his back. “And I was here.” He kneeled between his legs, spreading them wide and feeling Gildor’s thighs tighten and tremble under his hands. “You should relax,” he said.

Gildor burst into laughter. “Oh my! I cannot believe it! I’m being given instruction! Don’t worry, I know wha… ”

But he was cut short as Haldir bent forward swiftly, grabbed a fistful of Gildor’s golden hair, pulling him up, and crushed Gildor’s mouth against his in ain a brutal and claiming kiss. When Haldir let him go at last, Gildor was gasping and panting for air. Haldir shoved him back onto the grass and sat up. “If you know what to do – fine. Just do it then!”

Gildor sucked at the seeping cut on his lower lip, looking up at Haldir from under his thick lashes. His muscular, lean chest rose and fell heavily. When Haldir opened the vial, Gildor drew up his legs, offering him a better access to his tight opening. Haldir slid one slick finger inside and instantly felt the involuntarily clamp of muscles around it. But the next moment Gildor relaxed completely, allowing Haldir to add another digit. He accepted the addition of the third finger with a throaty groan that accentuated the hunger romling through Haldir. The Marchwarden had to use every bit of his self-control not to speed up the preparation. Gildor was as impatient as he, though.

“Enough of that!” he growled. “Are you going to take me or will I have to beg?”

Haldir poured the rest of the oil on his palm and stroked his rigid shaft, coating it with the scented liquid. Gildor watched his hand hungrily.

Haldir looked down at him. “Ready?”

“More than.” The Vanya effortlessly wrapped his long slender legs around Haldir’s waist.

As Haldir positioned himself at the entrance to Gildor’s untried body, he felt his breath hitch suddenly in his throat. He knew he would be the first whom Gildor allowed to take him. To no one else had the proud Vanya ever given himself.
‘I simply do not surrender. Never. To no one.’

Haldir could not grasp the whole meaning of it yet, but he knew that the gift Gildor was offering him was very special. It was an awesome concept.

Steadying Gildor’s hips, he guided the tip of his weeping sex to Gildor’s opening and pushed himself inside carefully and slowly. He stopped as soon as the head of his stone-hard erection breached the tight ring of muscle, giving Gildor time to adjust to the sensation. Only Gildor did not want any time. He thrust his hips up impatiently, pulling Haldir forward with his legs at the same time. In one unexpected, swift motion Haldir found himself sheathed to the hilt inside Gild bod body. Both cried out at the sensation.

“Have I hurt you?” Haldir managed to get out.

“No,” the Vanya panted and, indeed, there was no pain in his eyes, only raw desire. He rocked his hips encouragingly and Haldir bit down a groan. He could not start moving, not yet. He was encased in Gildor’s body so tightly that it was almost painful. Just to be inside the velvety heat of his channel was nearly enough to topple Haldir over the edge. But he could not let everything end so efulefully fast and he struggled to stay as still as possible, breathing in short, ragged gasps. His arms trembled and his chest was flushed with a light sheen of sweat. But Gildor refused to wait. Soon he was squirming under Haldir, pleading for more with breathy moans. Watching Gildor’s face closely, Haldir made the first shallow thrust. Gildor’s lashes fluttered he dhe did not break the eye contact. He squeezed Haldir’s waist with his legs urging hi and and the Galadhel started to slide in and out carefully. Then Haldir shifted his hips slightly, changing the angle of penetration, and Gildor’s harsh groan of surprise told him everything he needed to know. He thrust forward again, more forcefully this time, and the guttural scream tpasspassed Gildor’s lips had nothing to do with pain. The sound was the most beautiful m for for Haldir’s ears. He hit Gildor’s sensitive node again and again just to hear him repeat his heady plea. The Vanya’s hands came alive, gliding up and down Haldir’s arms feverishly, then clutching at the grass in an effort to find an anchor. Finally, he brought his arms up and grasped a protruding root above his head. He was rocked back and forth by the steady rhythm of Haldir’s thrusts, but he wanted more, oh so much more!

“Ha… harder now! Please!” he panted.

A low moan rumbled deep in Haldir’s throat as heppedpped Gildor’s knees and pushed them forward against his chest, shoving Gildor high up on sho shoulders and marvelling vaguely at his boneless flexibility. Haldir started a ferocious rhythm of impalement and withdrawal and Gildor accepted his thrusts eagerly. Their moaning and crying were reaching a breathless pinnacle as they struggled towards the ultimate completion together. Haldir brought his hand down and wrapped his fingers around Gildor’s engorged member. Only several forceful strokes were enough and then…

“Haldir!” A broken cry tore from Gildor’s lips as waves of intense pleasure assaulted his body and he came violently all over his chest.

Haldir felt the pulsing heat of Gildor’s passage clench and pull at him, quickly bringing him to unknown heights of ecstasy. He thrust one last time, painfully hard, and spilled himself deep inside Gildor’s body in long, hot gushes, crying out Gildor’s name.staystayed motionless on top of him for a moment longer, then he slid out, let Gildor’s legs fall loosely to either side of him and collapsed across Gildor’s chest, breathless and utterly spent. He felt shivers wrack the Vanya’s body beneath him.

“You are wild, you know that?” he murmured against Gildor’s throat.

“Hm? I can promise to be gentler next time, if you wish.”

Gildor unclenched his fingers from the root and moaned as he brought down his aching arms. “You owe me a shoulder rub.”

“Whatever,” Haldir smiled affectionately. Then he raised himself on his elbows and looked down at his lover. Gildor’s cheeks were still flushed and some strands of his tousled hair were caught on his swollen mouth.

“I love you,” Haldir whispered. “I love you so much.”

And then, suddenly, he remembered. “What did you call me?” he gasped, his eyes wide.

“What? When?” Gildor asked in confusion.

“You called me Haldir.”

Gildor laughed, amused. “It’s your name, isn’t it?”

“But… I thought that… that you thought I was…”

“I see.” Gildor’s eyes were serious now. “You thought that I pretended you were Ermenor? That I did not know whom I was really making love to?” Gildor chuckled. “Or who was pounding me into the ground so ardently? Oh no, anten. It is you I’ve given myself to. It is you and no one else that I see when I look at you. *You*, Haldir. Have no doubt of that.” [my gift]

A hesitant smile tugged at the corners of Haldir’s lips. “Are you serious?”

Gildor chuckled again. “I have no habit of lying to people. At least, not on the mas ofs of that importance.”

Haldir laughed happily but then his eyes got clouded again. Gildor cupped his cheek in his hand. “What is it, seron vell?” [beloved]

Haldir shook his head. “I’m afraid I won’t be able to conceal my feelings for you now.”

“And why would you wish to do such a thing?”

Haldir looked away. “Well, perhaps, you would like to keep our connection secret, with Thranduil being your lover and all that.”

“Ah.” Gildor scrutinized Haldir through narrowed eyes and then suddenly pushed him off of himself and sprang to his feet. He winced at the funny sensations in the lower part of his body and quickly gathered his scattered clothes. Haldir sat up and looked at him in alarm.

“Get up!” Gildor commanded, pouring himself into his leggings. “Come on, get dressed!” he hurried the younger elf impatiently when Haldid nod not move at once.

Haldir obeyed, still at a loss as to what was going on. Gildor did not wait for him to get dressed properly. He gave Haldir barely enough time to put on his leggings and boots and then grabbed his hand, pulling him along after himself.

“Where are weng?”ng?” Haldir asked as they were running through the forest.

“You’ll see,” Gildor grinned.

“You *are* wild!” Haldir laughed breathlessly.

Soon he understood that Gildor was leading him to Caras Galadhon. And he was right. They passed the gates, leaving the sentries gaping, and wove their way through the city heading for its centre. In spite of the late hour there were many elves in the streets who stared at them in open amazement. Haldir was aware that Gildor and he were really making a picturesque sight: half dressed, dishevelled and – he did not know about himself, but Gildor was sporting some very spectacular love-marks.

Gildor did not stop till they reached the central glade of the city. There he turned and without further ado jumped Haldir, clamping his legs around his waist. Haldir’s arms flew up instinctively to catch him, and he held Gildor with his hands on his buttocks. Gildor dipped his head and gave the Galadhel a deep, unhurried, savouring kiss. Then he pulled away and grinned at Haldir mischievously.

“In no wa can can keep it secret now.”

The love Haldir felt for him at this moment was so strong that it threatened to choke him.

“Valar, I love you so much,” he whispered hoarsely.

Gildor cocked his head to one side. “What did you say?”

“I love you,” Haldir repeated louder.

Gildor’s eyes sparkled with mirth. “No, I cannot hear you.”

Haldir understood what the Vanya was getting at and moaned. “Do you have to mak *th *that* public?”

Gildor just grinned at him expectantly. Haldir sighed in mock mortification, threw his head back and shouted, “I love you!” Then he looked at the elf in his arms again. “Is it loud enough for you?”

Starry-eyed, Gildor nodded.

“What shall we do now?” Haldir asked.

Gildor uncurled his legs from Haldir’s waist and slid down to stand on the ground again. “I think we shall pick up where we left off. Your talan or mine?”

“Definitely not yours,” Haldir smirked. “I cannot make the renowned Balrog slayer sleep in the street.”

“Oh, you are so considerate,” Gildor teased. “It’s your talan, then. Lead the way, Marchwarden.”

Hand in hand, they started for Haldir’s home, entirely oblivious of the stunned stares that followed them.


Anten (S) – my gift
Seron vell (S) – dear lover, beloved