Afflicted

Too much had happened. Elrond simply couldn’t think of it any longer, lest the threads of his sanity begin to unravel. Restlessly he paced the floors of his bed chamber, unable to even fathom the idea of sleep despite the lateness of the hour.

He needed to breathe the open air where the quiet beauty of nature would bear away the burden of impending war negotiations, even if only for a short while.

Although he felt certain all of Rivendell slept, the thought of walking about in only his thin dressing gown seemed altogether indecent. Besides, the night air still held the slight chill of winter’s passing.

The thick copper-colored robe, a favorite of his, lay draped across a nearby chair, freshly washed by the loyal hands of his people. The light fragrance of lavender greeted him as he shrugged on the heavily brocaded velvet which enveloped him in its familiar warmth. Never did he ask his kin to perform such tasks as laundering his regal attire, but they did so gladly and without his request. The simple act of respect made his heart swell with love and only served to enforce the bond he felt with each and every elf residing in Rivendell.

He padded quietly across the room, pausing only to slip a pair of soft leather sandals over his bare feet before making his way to his own private garden.

The garden was quite possibly the only part of Elrond’s estate which was housed within the confines of stone walls simply for the sake of privacy. Lush volumes of foliage flourished amongst the patchwork of wild flowers that carpeted the earthen floor, leaving no space untouched, for even the walls seemed to breathe life. Tendrils of ivy climbed the ancient stone, forming a lush web of green flecked occasionally with delicate clusters of night-blooming, bell-shaped trumpet flowers who turned their purple-edged faces heavenward in appreciation of twilight’s beauty.

It was in this place of peace that Elrond resided when he wished to be alone with his thoughts or at times, to even escape from them.

However, this night, the garden had a new addition. Sitting comfortably atop the high stone wall was the unmistakable moonlit silhouette of Haldir, lounging as if he belonged there as well as a piece of living artwork amongst the leafy green spirals of ivy, studying the night sky with an expression of reflective contentment.

“Mae govannen, Elrond,” Haldir greeted him, never once looking to make sure it was, in fact, the Elven Lord to which he spoke.

Elrond shook his head with a smile. The sharpness of Haldir’s keen senses never failed to amaze him.

“And how did you know it was me, mellon, for it could have easily been a servant tending to the garden as they often do at late hours of the night,” Elrond asked.

He could see the slight curve of Haldir’s lofty grin. “Because, you positively reek of lavender, my friend. One could smell you coming in complete darkness even if you made no sound.”

Elrond chuckled. Perhaps he should encourage the caretaker of his wardrobe to use a lighter scent. He was quite accustomed to the smell of lavender and therefore, failed to pay it much notice.

He sat amongst the grasses and flowers on a wooden bench laden with dark red pillows of soft goose down, unable to fully relax despite the night’s calming beauty.

“You seem restless, Elrond,” Haldir observed, still gazing thoughtfully at the moon’s brilliance.

“Sleep eludes me,” Elrond confessed, absently combing his fingers through his nearly ebon hair as it hung loose and unbound far beyond his shoulders. “I can think of nothing pleasant to chase the darkness of my thoughts into shadow.”

“Speak, mellon. Tell me what ails you,” Haldir said, stretching his bent leg out so that it now lay straight on the wall’s ivy encrusted top.

Elrond sighed and much heaviness weighted his words. “The alliance between man and elf grows ever thinner as the humans separate themselves from each other with titles of wealth, power and religious connotations. I fear for the safety of our people, Haldir. There are those who do not look upon us kindly and their numbers increase with each passing day.”

Haldir reclined against the decorative stone pillar that protruded from the wall and flexed the booted foot of his dangling leg, dragging his heel along the side of his perch, which looked to be a lazy way of scratching his ankle without having to actually move.

“Humans, Elrond. . . why do you trouble yourself with their burdens? They are the cause of much strife between the races of Middle Earth, yet still, your warriors would help defend their unsightly villages. Why do you do this?”

Elrond laughed, the sound almost bitter. “Because, my friend, the blood of men flows in my veins as well.”

Haldir flipped one side of his braided hair behind his shoulder with a dismissive snort. “You are as much an elf as I and possibly greater. Do not reduce yourself to such a trivial status.”

“Your flattery is greatly appreciated, though I fear it to be inaccurate at times,"

Haldir shrugged. “I speak of truth, not adulation. But if you would prefer for me to point out some of your. . . ahem. . . less charming characteristics, I am certain I can come up with a list of those as well.”

Elrond reclined against the bench’s plush covered backing, waving a hand dismissively. “I have no such flaws. Your head is full of much blackberry wine, March Warden.”

The fullness of a smirk now carved Haldir’s lips into a lopsided version of his serenely arrogant smile, although there was mirth to be had in his expression.

“Auta miqula fylmena,” Haldir replied, equally as dismissive but with a feigned yawn.

Elrond arched one eyebrow. “How utterly eloquent you are,” he said.

Haldir tossed his hair once more. “I do try, my Lord.”

Elrond’s amusement was short lived as the all-too-familiar scent of fatal flora wafted over the stone wall and tickled his nose teasingly. Certainly he had thought the night air to be more forgiving than that of the day, but the lilies did not slumber and seemed even more potent despite the dark embrace of twilight.

He would ignore it.

“I have often wondered what it would be like to live as you do, Haldir, amongst the trees and far from the prying eyes of humanity and all its ails.”

He paused. The breeze was most persistent, carrying the scent of nature’s bounty directly to where he sat, causing his dignified repose to falter as he placed a hand beneath his nose and sneezed twice in quick succession, feeling both relieved and mildly annoyed.

“Excuse me, Haldir. Ah, this retched air! So wonderfully soothing and yet. . .” he sneezed a third time and then a fourth, shielding his face with the vast cuff of one robe sleeve as he had done many times that day, “so dreadfully fragrant.”

Lowering his arm, he was surprised to see Haldir suddenly standing before him, one hand extended, dangling a carefully folded white cloth between his fingers.

“I think you will find this better suited than the sleeve of your robe,” Haldir said.

Elrond rested one elbow on the marble table and pressed his palm to his forehead with fingers splayed, chuckling in spite of himself. “Diolle, mellon-nin. Death to this affliction of mine!” he said with a soft laugh, before sneezing yet again, eliciting a chortle from Haldir as well.

“Take it,” Haldir said, pressing the folded tip of the cloth beneath Elrond’s unoccupied hand. “And I do not wish to have it back,” he added, a loftily teasing smile curving one side of his lips.

Elrond laughed and patted the pillow beside him with one hand. “Come. Sit wit and and let us discuss something which needs no serious thought.”

Haldir arched one eyebrow as he approached the stone bench with exaggerated caution and sat beside the Elven Lord, but maintained a purposeful distance. “Very well, but if you must sneeze again, do use that cloth, Elrond, for I wish not to be bathed by your essence.”

Elrond feigned indignation. “Some would consider it an honor, you realize.”

Haldir sniffed with mock disdain. “Now you sound as arrogant as I am. Certainly this is not possible.”

It was now Elrond’s turn to raise an eyebrow. “I shall offer you no argument in that matter.”

Haldir chuckled as he flicked a clinging piece of ivy leaf away from his breeches, a small cloud of dust rising from the leather as his did so.

Elrond eyed him, eyebrow still arched. “You, my dear friend, could use a bath.”

Haldir seemed to consider this for a moment, his head tipped to one side as giving the notion quite a bit of serious thought.

“Yes,” he mused at last, patting the sleeve of his tunic heartily, stirring up a fine mist of hazy grime and pollen. “I suppose I could.”

Oh, how Elrond wished the archer had not done that! He turned away from Haldir, clutching the cloth in one hand, desperately seeking to stave off the impeding assault that he was becoming helpless to suppress.

After what felt like an eternity of trying to deny his fate, Haldir’s voice reached through the battle of mind over allergies.

“By Valar, Elrond. Will you kindly just get on with it?”

Elrond gave in at last, the sound, which he feared would have been inordinately loud, squelched demurely as possible into the folded cloth.

“Blow,” Haldir instructed.

Both of Elrond’s brows shot up. “I beg your pardon?”

“Your nose, Elrond. Blow it,” Haldir said.

Gods, Haldir simply did not know what he asked of the Elven Lord! But, he had little choice in the matter given the circumstances. A lusty honk issued forth from behind the confines of the cloth, much to Elrond’s complete and utter mortification.

Haldir emitted a short, almost snorting bark of a laugh before clearing his throat with a barely contained smile, lips pursed tightly together.

“Oh, go on then,” Elrond muttered, rolling his eyes while fluttering a dismissive hand in Haldir’s direction, granting the other elf permission to release his mirth.

Haldir merely stared, cocking his head to the opposite side, retaining his affectionate smirk but saying nothing.

Elrond then dropped the cloth into his pocket and rested his elbows against the table in front of the bench, steepling his hands thoughtfully, the beginnings of a slight smile edging his lips. He sniffled deliberately, lifting a brow in Haldir’s direction.

The March Warden lost it. He melted into a fit of hilarity, laying his head down into the crook of his folded arms as he placed them on the table as well, his shoulders shaking with laughter.

“I do admire your immense control over your reactions, Haldir. It is one of the things I love most about you,” Elrond teased him.

“Thffank youff,” Haldir mumbled through a mouthful of tunic, a tittering chortle escaping him.

“Oh, would you get your head out of your sleeve and hasten to the bath with me? I fear that I may not be able to converse with you much longer if I am forced to breath the noxious scent of your clothing,” Elrond said, giving the plait down the center of Haldir’s mane an insistent tug as he rose from the bench.

“Mmmph,” Haldir replied, unmoved by Elrond’s command until the Elven Lord yanked his flaxen braid a bit harder. “Aiya! All right, all right!” he yelped as Elrond offered him a hand. With a smirk, he added, “you are far too used to getting your way. You realize this.”

Elrond tossed his hair much in a mocking rendition of Haldir. “It is good to be the Lord of the Land, my dear March Warden.”

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *



Haldir was grateful for Lord Elrond’s invitation. He was admittedly, quite filthy from the trip to Rivendell.

“You are welcome to one my bathrobes, Haldir. I am certain there are several within the springs,” Elrond said as they walked together along the moonlit path that led to Rivendell’s impressive bathing area.

The sheer curtains that cloaked the bubbling pool billowed softly in the breeze as Elrond brushed them aside with one hand, allowing Haldir entrance first.

“Ah, I much prefer bathing during the twilight hours when none are about,” Elrond said as he began to shed his vestments, the heavy robes dropping to the ground with rustle of thick velvet.

Haldir, who had begun to pull his tunic over his head, paused and stared the naked splendor of the Elven Lord. Elrond glided gracefully across the moss covered stones, placing one foot in the pool and then the other, the water enveloping his nude body like a clearly molded glove as he stood waist deep in the bathing reservoir and turned to Haldir with a grand smile.

“Come, Haldir! The water is simply wonderful!” Elrond called.

Haldir stripped the gray tunic from his body tos tossed it onto the ground beside Elrond’s robes. Modesty was not a quality typical of elves and Haldir exhibited this thoroughly as he peeled the dusty breeches from his legs along with his boots, laying them aside as well.

The warmth of the pool was soothing to Haldir’s limbs as he entered the water and sank slowly beneath its mirrored surface. He came up for a breath of air to find that Elrond had dipped his head into the water as well and was now seeking to soap his wavy tresses most unsuccessfully, the length of the Elven Lord’s hair proving to be quite cumbersome.

“Would you like some help, mellon?” Haldir offered with a laugh, as

Elrond sought to pile his dark locks upon his head while scrubbing them with the lye soap which was scented heavily with lavender.

“If you would not mind, yes,” Elrond consented, smiling as he passed the soap to Haldir’s outstretched hand.

Haldir crooked a finger in Elrond’s direction. “You must come and sit before me or else I cannot reach you,” he said.

Elrond slipped gracefully beneath the water, resurfacing near Haldir’s partially submerged form as the archer eased himself over a bit so that the Elven Lord could seat himself comfortably on the ledge as well. . . between Haldir’s legs.

Haldir threaded his fingers through Elrond’s dark hair as it floated upon the water like a silken serpent, gathering the thick tresses into one hand and squeezing the moisture from them a bit before taking the cake of soap to Elrond’s head, beginning with his scalp first.

He wrinkled his nose at the perfumed lather concocted by his gently massaging fingertips.

“I now know why you always reek of lavender,” Haldir said, gradually adding the length of Ed’s d’s slick hair into the foaming mass between his hands.

“Do you not enjoy the scent, March Warden? I find it to be most soothing,” Elrond mused, leaning his head back fully into the relaxing massage of Haldir’s hands.

Haldir snorted. “An orc could smell you coming from ten tree lengths away,” he informed Elrond, still working the lye soap through the dark locks into a pile of pluming froth.

The scent was heady and almost overwhelming to Haldir’s keen senses, especially when Elrond turned his head in such a manner that a smattering of lavenfoamfoam caught the March Warden squarely in the mouth. He coughed, splashing a handful of water onto his face to rid himself of the bitter taste of soap, but it did little to wash away the fragrance. An odd tingle arose sharply deep within his sinuses and he paused in his lavish hair-washing, staring ahead at the moss endowed rocks, lips slightly parted almost expectantly.

“Haldir?” Elrond glanced over his shoulder. “Why did you stop? Gods, it felt wonderful!”

“Ah, I. . .” Haldir’s breath hitched and an involuntarily shuddering inhalation coursed through him.

He turned his head and sneezed twice quite violently, one nearly coming on top of the other.

Elrond was staring at him most curiously and Haldir could not help but laugh at the Elven Lord’s quizzical stare.

Tossing his damp hair, Haldir said with a sniffle, “my, that felt quite good! I do not understand why one would not enjoy such a thing!”

Elrond glanced over his shoulder, one eyebrow held aloft. “You needn’t contend with its wrath continually,” he informed Haldir, leaning back into the archer’s body as if he were a royal wing-backed chair, an action which pleasantly surprised Haldir.

“Rinse the lather from my hair if it bothers you so,” Elrond said, motioning with one hand towards the pool’s edge where a large silver pitcher rested. “That shall serve you well.”

Haldir leaned to one side, grasping the handle of the container and dipped it beneath the water, filling it to the brim. He spilled the clear liquid slowly over Lord Elrond’s head, washing away the first traces of lavender foam. Strands of Elrond’s wet hair had plastered themselves against the pale smoothness of Haldir’s chest, trailing waves of damp darkness around his upper body.

Elrond tipped his head back as Haldir doused his thick mane once more, a sigh of indulgent relaxation escaping his lips.

“You do that quite well,” Elrond murmured. “Are you sure you would not wish to give up your position in Llothlorien and act as my royal hair washer?”

Haldir smirked. “Perhaps that lavender has infused your brain with much nonsense.”

Elrond chuckled as Haldir sent another waterfall of warmth cascading over him from the silver pitcher.

“Serving royalty has its benefits, you realize,” Elrond said, leaning languidly against Haldir’s chest once more after the archer had finished rinsing the lye soap from his long hair.

“Oh?” Haldir mused, easing himself against the moss-padded rocks to accommodate Elrond’s added weight comfortably.

“Yes,” Elrond continued, one hand resting on Haldir’s thigh beneath the water, the other trailing lazily through the surface of the pool. “Think of the wonderful bathing area you would have access to each day. Not all are privy to such things.”

“Indeed,” Haldir said simply.

The position of Elrond’s hand had not escaped his notice. Haldir had to admit that if the gesture were a subtle invitation to more, he would certainly accept, for he had secretly thought upon the act for some time now, yet had never voiced his intent. Having the Lord of Imladris naked and lounging between his thighs was truly a most pleasant sensation.

Haldir allowed his arm to drape nonchalantly around Elrond’s shoulder and slide downward, his hand lighting upon the Elven Lord’s wrist beneath the pool’s glassy plane. Elrond tipped his head back further still, the coolness of his damp hair mingling with the warmth of Haldir’s skin in a briefly chilling tingle.

“Oh, mellon nin, you are most comfortable,” Elrond murmured, his hand curling around the tips of Haldir’s fingers.

“Am I?” Haldir said, feeling a warmth other than that of the bubbling spring beginning to course through his body.

“Very much so,” nd rnd replied, his words a roughened rumble.

“Then you are most welcome to lie upon me,” Haldir conceded, his free hand finding its way into Elrond’s damp locks, smoothing stray strands away from the Elven Lord’s beautiful visage.

Elrond’s shoulders rubbed across Haldir’s chest as he shifted positions slightly, glancing back at the archer, one brow cocked suggestively.

“Is that all I am welcome to, March Warden?”

Haldir’s eyebrows lifted slightly. “Is there something else you desire, my Lord?”

Elrond slid down the length of Haldir’s body, his backside rubbing against Haldir’s now-growing arousal with what was certainly a purposeful movement.

“Perhaps,” Elrond drawled smoothly.

Haldir pushed the moist tresses of darkness aside and pressed his lips to warm skin of Elrond’s neck in a gentle kiss. “Perhaps. . .this?”

A softly sighing groan escaped Elrond as Haldir trailed a path down the Elven Lord’s neck with his tongue, lickingy thy the droplets of moisture that lingered there.

“Gods,” Elrond moaned in a hushed voice as Haldir’s hand crept slowly down his stomach and in between his thighs, resting upon the dark thatch of curls that resided there, yet going no further.

“I cannot deny that I have not often thought of this moment,” Haldir purred, tracing a lazy circle around Elrond’s navel with the tip of one finger.

The Elven Lord shivered in Haldir’s wanton embrace, pressing his back into the March Warden’s chest and arching his body upward towards Haldir’s questing hand.

“And why have you never spoken of it?” Elrond asked, his hand traveling the length of Haldir’s muscular thigh, stroking the pale skin beneath the bubbling water.

“Mmmmm,” Haldir murm tho thoughtfully, his hands coming to rest on Elrond’s hips as he pulled the regal elf’s firm body against his own. “Why must we speak at all, my Lord?”

An impish smile spread slowly across Elrond’s lips as he gradually turned to face Haldir, rising to his knees as he placed his hands on the March Warden’s shoulders, pinning him gently against the mossy rocks.

“Haldir,” Elrond rasped, his breath tickling Haldir’s ear deliciously. “Taste me.”

Haldir trembled with desire as Elrond’s pliantly soft lips met his own, the Elven Lord’s warm tongue probing his mouth with a heated sensuality that the archer returned eagerly.

He wrapped his arms around Elrond’s waist, pulling him close and kissing him with a fervently deep passion, savoring the taste of his mouth. One hand slipped between Elrond’s thighs once more and Haldir’s fingers closed tightly around the hardened thickness of the Elven Lord’s arousal.

“My,” Haldir exclaimed, “you are most impressive, my Lord. Huge, in fact.”

Elrond chuckled with a devious smile. “Am I huge, March Warden?”

“Yes,” Haldir conceded, giving Elrond a teasing squeeze which elicited a sharp gasp of pleasure from the majestic elf which Haldir involuntarily returned as Elrond suddenly grasped him as well.

“I would dare say the same of you, mellon,” Elrond said, stroking the length of Haldir’s ever-hardening excitement.

A lop-sided grin curved Haldir’s lips. “Thank you, my Lord,” he said.

“Come,” Elrond said, withdrawing his touch and sliding back into the pool where he then stood waiting, the water skimming his bare hips suggestively as he pushed his damp hair away from his face and beckoned to Haldir with a crook of his finger.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Haldir rose to his feet, purposefully allowing the Elven Lord a full view of his completely naked form which Elrond eyed appreciatively. Mordor fires, the elf was magnificent! Elrond’s gaze roamed over the pale flesh, past the sleekly defined thighs, the taut stomach and chest and up to the nobly sculpted chin and jaw line. Haldir’s damp hair clung to his back and shoulders as he approached Elrond slowly, cloaking him in a curtain dark gold.

Elrond reached for him, taking the archer into his embrace and holding him there, feeling the soft skin meld with own naked body, fusing them together momentarily. He kissed Haldir’s forehead, licked the pointed tips of his ears, nibbled his chin, wishing to devour the pale Lorien beauty that stood gleaming slickly in the silvery moonlight.

Haldir’s hands slid around Elrond’s waist and firmly grasped his buttocks, giving the ample roundness of his backside a good squeeze mus hes he done earlier with another part of the Elven Lord. Boldly, Elrond pressed his erection against Haldir’s flat stomach, for he was slightly taller than the archer, and rubbed himself there, a moan of ecstasy escaping Haldir’s lips.

He wanted the March Warden. Badly. And now! But, before he could move to put actions with his thoughts, Haldir slipped from him arms and slithered down the Elven Lord’s naked body, a delightfully depraved grin gracing his lips. His blond head suddenly disappeared beneath the water and Elrond felt the touch of nimble fingers upon his groin followed by a warm mouth enveloping his entire arousal, sending hot tingles of pleasure spiraling through his body. He gripped the edge of the rocky pool for support as the archer sucked him witfevefevered skill that Elrond never would have expected a male Galadhrim to possess. The zenith of pleasure that raced through his veins threatened to culminate within mere moments, his breath coming in short, ragged pants, but Haldir released him abruptly, resurfacing with a splash and toss of his golden locks.

“Aaaah, I see that the rest of you tastes as fine as your lips,” Haldir said with a fiendish flash of a smile.

Elrond could stand it no longer. He grabbed Haldir by the shoulders and pushed him firmly against the pool’s edge, backing the March Warden onto one of the narrow ledges, almost forcing him sit. Then, grasping the archer’s hips, he pulled him close, kissing him deeply, his hands rug alg along the curve of Haldir’s backside.

The other elf smiled coyly and twisted around in Elrond’s heated embrace, presenting the Elven Lord with a fine view of his very naked rear as he leaned over the edge of the pool, his blond hair falling across one shoulder and dipping low into the water.

Elrond took full advantage of Haldir’s inviting position and gripped the archer’s hips once more, pressing the tip of his arousal against Haldir’s firm backside. Haldir groaned and arched his back, catching the slick hardness of the Elven Lord briefly within the crevice of his buttocks.
Elrond slid his hands along Haldir’s lean back and past his shoulders, reaching for a small vial of liquid that rested near the dish of lye soap. He often rubbed the almond scented oil onto his body after bathing, for it made his skin quite supple, but on this eve, it would serve a different purpose. He poured a generous amount into one cupped hand and proceeded to anoint himself with it in the most intimate of places, the warm sleekness of the erotic elixir further hardening him. He stared admiringly for a moment at the rounded swell of Haldir’s buttocks before placing both hands on the archer’s sides, sliding them to his hips. Haldir was ready for him and by the Valar, the Elven Lord felt as if he never wanted another so badly in his entire life span.

“Ah, mellon nin, you are so beautiful,” Elrond whispered, pressing himselainsainst Haldir once more. “So. . . alluring. . .”

Carefully, gently, he slid his arousal between the March Warden’s buttocks, penetrating him slowly so that the other elf could learn the feel of him. He heard the archer gasp with a mixture of pain and pleasure, for Elrond was, as Haldir had stated earlier, quite sizable.

“Easy, meleth nin,” Elrond breathed, his thrusts slow and deliberate so as not to hurt the archer as he bent to grasp Haldir’s erection, stroking him into a trembling moan.

“Mmmm, my Lord. . . you may take me harder now,” Haldir purred, glancing over his shoulder, deep blue eyes alight with desire and mischief.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Elrond leaned further onto Haldir’s back and drove deep inside of him, his hand caressing and manipulating the March Warden into a frenzy of delectation. He gasped once more, his body shivering as Elrond’s sensually slow thrusts nearly drove him over the edge of pleasure’s peak. The generous caress between his thighs sent waves of heat jolting through him until he could stand it no longer. He grunted and strained against Elrond’s stirring touch, a groaning cry rising from his chest as the warmth of his release rushed over him, shooting over Elrond’s fingers and into the bubbling pool and being whisked away as quickly as it had come. Elrond climaxed shortly after, throwing his head back with a heaving moan of rapturous bliss, his hot seed spilling into Haldir’s body.

The Elven Lord lay against his back, spent and panting, withdrawing carefully as Haldir turned to gather Elrond into his arms, holding the pleasantly exhausted elf against him.

“Ah, March Warden,” Elrond murmured after some time, “I confess that my affliction has ceased for the moment. Perhaps you have a cure of some sort with that Lorien magic?”

Haldir chuckled softly. “’Tis not magic, my Lord. I fear it is my own personal affliction.”

Elrond smiled deviously, one eyebrow lifted. “I believe I can help you with that, mellon nin.”


FINIS

Auta miqula fylmena - go kiss an Orc

Diolle- thank you

mellon nin- my friend