My Heart's Desire - Part 2. If You Go Away.

Chapter 2. The Feel of Home.

Gildor looked down at the valley and then turned to Haldir. “Imladris,” he smiled. “The closest thing to home I’ve ever had in Arda. It’s beautiful. You’ll love it.”

Haldir was ready to love even Mordor if it were what Gildor called home. But Imladris was truly beautiful. As they descended further down into the valley, Haldir became aware of the aura of peace and tranquility enveloping the place. The feel of it was different from the one of Lórien, and yet somehow akin to it. It must be the effect of the Ring of power, Haldir realized. Imladris was protected by one of the Elven Rings. But of course the Lord of the Hom Homely House did not rely on the Ring alone for the protection of his realm. The borders of Imladris were as closely guarded as those of Lórien.

“Are you going to try and take your guards by surprise again?” Haldir asked Gildor.

“No,” the Vanya laughed. “This time it will be the other way round.”

They followed the road down to the river, crossed it at the ford and entered the pinewood on the opposite bank. After several minutes of an unhurried ride Gildor looked at Glorfindel.

“Well, Seneschal, what’s your guess?”

“Two on the left, one on the right and one ahead. Do you think I’ve missed anyone?”

“You have not, Seneschal.” An elf stepped out from behind a tree in front of them. Three more appeared on their flanks, all of them grinning.

Glorfindel and Gildor got down from their horses. Haldir followed their example.

“Welcome home, Seneschal, Captain,” the elf, who seemed to be in command, greeted them, clasping their forearms in turn.

“Thank you, Convaethyr,” Glorfindel replied. “Do you know Haldir? He is Marchwarden of Lórien.”

“I’m glad to meet you, Marchwarden. I’ve heard a lot about you.” Convaethyr bowed.

Haldir returned the bow politely. Gildor bit the inside of his cheek trying hard to suppress laughter.

“Oh, Haldir,” he murmured, “I hope he doesn’t mean the things *I* have heard about you.”

Haldir preserved his calm, slightly arrogant look, though the corners of his mouth twitched in hidden mirth.

“We are due back from our patrol in two days,” Convaethyr told Glorfindel in the meantime. “But Lord Elrond has all the detailed reports so you can learn everything from them. Nothing much has happened during your absence, though.”

“Good,” Glorfindel nodded.

They bid farewell to the guards and resumed their way. After a while Gildor steered his horse to the right into the wood. Glorfindel waved him goodbye and continued along the road. Haldir followed Gildor.

“Where are we going?”

“I want to show you something.”

Soon Haldir heard the murmuring of water and they rode out into a glade on the bank of a rivulet. One of the Bruinen’s tributaries formed a quiet creek here. The water in it was limpid and almost entirely still with hardly any wavelets rippling its surface. Haldir looked around. Pine trees surrounded the glade like a wall of tawny columns. The fragrant mat of grass and fallen pine needles thinned gradually into a patch of golden sand on the bank of the stream. Gildor slid down from his horse and smiled up at Haldir.

“When I return to Imladris after long absence I always come here first. To wash off the dust of a long journey, so to say. And to let the peace of the place enter my heart.”

Gildor shed his clothes and waded into the water. He walked slowly forward till tiny wavelets kissed his lovely rump. Then he looked over his shoulder at Haldir.

“Won’t you join me?”

When Haldir divested himself of his tunic and leggings and stood beside Gildor, the Vanya took his hand and pulled him along after himself. They waded further on and Haldir was surprised to see the rivulet become shallower instead of deepening. Soon it lapped around their ankles, hardly more than a foot above the sand-bar they were standing on. Gildor let go of Haldir’s hand and stretched on his stomach on the sand; water licking hungrily at his golden body. He narrowed his eyes against sun-glints on the surface and sighed contentedly. Haldir sat down cross-legged by his side.

“Does Glorfindel know where we went?”

“Yes.”

“Why didn’t he come with us?”

“Because it’s *my* place. I come here alone.”

Haldir raised an eyebrow. “What about me then?”

“You?” A smile flickered across Gildor’s lips. “You are an exception, seron vell. You make me do a lot of things I haven’t done before.” [beloved]

Haldir smiled as well and ran his hand along Gildor’s spine down to the tight curve of his rear. Then his fingers traced the crevice between Gildor’s buttocks, tentatively pressing deeper. But the Vanya rolled onto his side swiftly and swatted Haldir’s hand.

“No!”

“No?”

“No. I refuse to be tumbled on a riverbank when the luxury of my bed is only a short distance away.”

Haldir chuckled. “And what is so wrong with a river bank?”

Gildor made a face. “Sand gets in all the wrong places.”

“Mollyco,” H,” Haldir teased him. “I did not know you are afraid of a little discomfort.”

“Hm?” Gildor narrowed his eyes. “All right, if you are so bent on doing it here and now, let’s do it. But *I* shall be on top this time.”

Haldir pretended to ponder on it. “On second thought,” he said reflectively, “your bed does sound attractive.”

“Ah!” Gildor laughed. “Now who is afraid of a little discomfort?”

They stayed on the sand-bar for a little longer and then returned to the bank to dry and to dress.

“Let me braid your hair for you,” Gildor offered and Haldir accepted gratefully.

Gildor found a comb in his saddlebag and started on the task. It took him somewhat longer than Haldir had expected. Finally, he finished and looked at Haldir with satisfaction.

“Here. You are ready.”

Haldir touched the intricate braids into which his hair was now arranged.

“It feels odd without the familiar side-locks,” he complained.

“Do not worry: it becomes you,” Gildor assured him. “You look beautiful. But then, you always do.”


They reached their destination in about an hour. Haldir looked in wonder at numerous bridges and waterfalls.

“There’s water everywhere here,” he commented.

“Yes,” Gildor agreed happily. “This is one of the things that make this place special.”

Haldir gave him a side-glance and chuckled. “You haven’t told me you have Telerin blood in you.”

“I don’t,” Gildor smiled. “But I love water.”

“I can hardly see any fair-haired elf,” Haldir continued his observations.

“Yes,” Gildor agreed again. “I think it’s the main reason Glorfindel and I are so popular here.”

“Such modesty!” Haldir laughed and looked around again. “There are definitely more Noldor here than I would want,” he muttered under his breath.

Gildor chuckled. “You do not have to want all of them. Actually, there is only one elf you *must* want. And he is only half-Noldo.”

Haldir raised an row.row. “Must? Is it an order?”

“Yes,” Gildor nodded emphatically. “Obey.”

“Here, my Lord?” Haldir inquired archly. “Or am I allowed to wait till the luxury of your bed?”

Finally they rode into the spacious courtyard in front of Elrond’s house. As they dismounted, a group of elves appeared at the top of the grand staircase leading to the main entrance. Haldir recognized the Lord of Imladris, flanked by Glorfindel and the Chief Advisor Erestor. And then a laughing and whooping whirlwind dashed down the stairs and swept up Gildor into the midst of it. Of course. The twins. The next moment Haldir could get a very clear idea what Arwen had meant, speaking about her brothers’ generous way of kissing. Haldir’s eyes narrowed when he saw Gildor accept it as if it were the most natural thing on Arda for him to do. Haldir strongly resented the notion. Still keeping Gildor imprisoned in the space between them, the twins started talking, both at once, interrupting each other.

“Not so fast, ernilen,” Gildor chuckled as he tried to disentangle himself from their arms. “Give me a moment. I’ve brought someone with me I want to introduce to you.” [my princes]

The twins became aware of Haldir’s presence for the first time. Two dark-haired heads turned and two pairs of identical eyes regarded him; first in surprise, then in suspicious contemplation. Haldir studied them in turn. He had seen them before, of course, but he had never looked at them as at potential rivals. Now he regarded them with a critical eye.

Oh, Elrond’s sons were truly fair: luscious dark manes, flawless skin, large gray eyes, almost silvery about the pupils and black-rimmed around the irises; strong, agile bodies of true warriors or - of predators. They were a double impact of lethal beauty. Haldir had to admit that with the gwanûn’s dark beauty framing Gildor’s golden one, the three of them made a stunning sight: they complemented and supplemented each other most favourably. [twins]

“There’s no need for introduction,” one of the twins said finally.

“We know the Marchwarden,” the other chorused.

“Yes,” Gildor smiled. “But I do not think you know that Haldir is my lover now and that he is going to live here, in Imladris.”

The princes looked at the Vanya with something that Haldir would qualify as shock. Then they turned to him again, their eyes assessing, measuring, weighing. Haldir met their stare with thinly veiled challenge on his face. One pair of eyes went just a little wide; the other – just a little narrow.

“Indeed,” they breathed together.

“Then you are even more welcome in Imladris, Haldir,” came Elrond’s composed voice.

“Thank you, my Lord.” Haldir bowed his head respectfully. He noted that neither Elrond nor Erestor seemed to be surprised by Gildor’s announcement. They must have learned the news from Glorfindel then, he decided. Oddly enough, it was the Balrog slayer who was looking at him in a peculiar way. Gildor noticed it as well.

“Glorfindel, you are staring,” he said, stepping out of the twins’ embrace finally and pulling Haldir closer to himself. “It’s too late for second thoughts now. You should have used your chance with him when you had one. Now he is mine. So keep away from him. You too, Erestor.”

The twins exchanged a glance trying to understand if Gildor was joking or it was a serious warning.

“If you’ve done with the declaration of your property rights,” Erestor said in a cool sarcastic voice, “I presume we all can get into the house. You did not send us a warning that you were bringing… er… a guest with you so we have not prepared a room for him. But he’ll be sharing your quarters, I believe?”

“He will.”

"I'm standing right here," Haldir reminded them coldly.

“Let us go inside, shall we?” Elrond hurried to interfere. “You must be tired after your long journey and hungry, too.”

“Yes,” Glorfindel seconded his effort to defuse the situation. “I do not know about you two,” he winked at Gildor and Haldir, “but I’ve had my fill of dried fruit and meat and am ready for something more substantial.”

Erestor rolled his eyes. “Glutton.”

“Look who’s talking,” Glorfindel smirked, unabashed. “By the way, Haldir, that’s a pretty hairstyle. I could never imagine I’d see it on a Galadhel one day.”

They headed for the main entrance, Elrond leading the way.

“I meant it, Erestor,” Gildor muttered as he passed the advisor.

Erestor pretended he had not heard him but a ghost of a smirk touched his lips.

Elladan caught Glorfindel’s arm, making him fall back. “What was that about his hairstyle? Was it Gildor who did it?”

Glorfindel chuckled. “I would be surprised if it were someone else. It’s an old Vanyarin style. I did not even know Gildor remembered it.”

“There is something special about it, isn’t there?” Elrohir inquired softly.

Glorfindel looked at him with a quirked eyebrow. “Aye, pen dithen, you read the signs correctly. This is the way a Vanya would braid the hair of someone he is willing to bind himself to.” [little one]

The twins stared at Glorfindel in mute shock.

“You mean,” Elladan finally managed to wheeze out, “you mean to say that… ”

Glorfindel shook his head. “I know nothing about Gildor’s binding plans, but it surely means that he is seriously in love. You’d better get used to the idea.”

With that he entered the house but the twins stayed outside. They looked at each other, still feeling shaken.

“If Glorfindel says so… ” Elrohir began.

“… then it can be really true,” Elladan finished.

“He *loves* him?”

Elladan frowned and did not answer.

“I’m not happy with it,” Elrohir admitted anxiously.

“Do you think I am?” Elladan replied glumly. “The Galadhel’s fame precedes him. Every second broken heart in Lórien is his doing.”

Elrohir looked at his brother. “We’ll keep an eye on him,” he said emphatically.

“And if he so much as tries to hurt Gildor… ”

“… we shall hurt *him*.”

They nodded in mutual agreement.

Gildor pushed the door to his suite open and stepped aside. “Come in, Haldir. This is your home now.”

Haldir entered the room and looked around. “Are these the largest quarters in the house?” he asked in mild amusement.

“One of the largest.” Gildor followed him inside. “I was here when the place was built so I could choose.”

Haldir pulled Gildor into his arms and stroke his cheek with the back of his hand. “I still cannot get used to how young you look. Even younger than me.”

“Is it a problem?” Gildor leaned into the touch.

“No, I like it. Well, where is that so-much-boasted-of bed?”

Gildor led him into the bedroom. “Here it is.”

Haldir stared at the four-posted piece of furniture for several moments in silence.

“I am impressed,” he said at last. “It must be the size of my talan. Do you think we’ll be able to find each other in it, at least from time to time?”

“Do not worry,” Gildor chuckled. “I’ll give you a detailed plan of it, with my favourite places marked.”

“That would be most helpful,” Haldir nodded. Then he assumed a thoughtful air. “Now I wonder about your bath. Is all the water in the Bruinen enough to fill it up?”

“Come and have a look for yourself,” Gildor laughed and led him to his spacious bathroom.

“Hmm.” Haldir walked up to the steaming container the size of a pool. “You certainly have a taste for big things.”

“Yes,” Gildor agreed as he advanced on his lover with a predatory glint in his eyes. “Yes, I do.”

The twins approached Gildor’s chambers, their hands loaded with food and drink.

“Perhaps they would wish to come to the dining-hall after all,” Elrohir murmured.

“Ada knows better, Ro,” Elladan replied and pushed the door open with his hip.

They entered the room but stopped abruptly at the sound they heard through the open bedroom door.

“What was that?” Elrohir looked at his twin.

“Laughter.”

“Gildor’s?!” Elrohir’s eyes were wide with amazement.

“I do not know, Ro. Sounds like him, though it’s hardly possible.” Elladan put the tray with food on the table and called, “Gildor! Come here! We’ve brought you supper.”

In several moments Gildor emerged out of the bedroom, closely followed by Haldir.

“What is it, ernilen vyrn?” Gildor walked forward but Haldir stayed behind, lounging against the doorframe with his arms crossed.

‘My dark princes! Indeed!’ Haldir tried not to scowl too openly.

“Erm…” Elrohir shot a glance at his brother but Elladan’s eyes were fixed on Haldir. “Ada thought you would prefer to have supper in your rooms tonight. So he asked us to take some food and drink to you.”

He waved the bottle of miruvor he was still holding in his hand.

“Oh, thank you!” Gildor smiled. “Very thoughtful of him.”

In the meantime Elladan gave Haldir a close scrutiny. Just like Gildor, the Galadhel was shirtless and barefoot. His tight leather leggings clung to the long, clean lines of his legs and did nothing to conceal an unmistakable bulge in his groin. The upper laces of his leggings were undone, generously revealing lean, hard muscles of his stomach. Elladan raised his eyes and Haldir met his gaze unwaveringly, though a muscle in his jaw twitched minutely.

“Do you like what you see, El?” came Gildor’s amused voice.

Elladan shifted his look to him. “More important is whether *you* like what you see, dagnir-e-guilen,” he replied softly. [bane of my life]

“I do.”

“Then all is well, I trust. Have a good rest. Ada expects you in his study after breakfast tomorrow.”

Elladan nodded to Elrohir and the twins left.

“What the… ” Haldir hissed when the door closed behind them. He took a deep breath. “What was that all about?”

“Oh, Silfael,” Gildor walked up to his lover quickly and wrapped his arms around his waist, “do not take it to heart. They are simply feeling wary of you and protective over me.” [Moonbeam]

“And what have I done to provoke those feelings?” Haldir inquired in a resentful tone.

“Not you - I,” Gildor smiled. “Firstly, I’ve brought you from Lórien,” he started to enumerate, alternating words with tiny licks on Haldir’s lips. “Secondly, you are sharing my quarters. Thirdly, I make no secret that we are lovers. Actually, I’ve all but shouted about it from a treetop. I have never done anything of the kind before. Naturally, they are worried.”

“And what are they worried about?” Haldir’s hands slid down Gildor’s back and forced their way into his leggings, kneading the tight flesh of his buttocks.

Gildor moaned and ground his hips against the hard muscles of Haldir’s thigh. “They are afraid you can take advantage of me, I believe.”

“Do you think I can?” Haldir murmured, nibbling at Gildor’s throat.

“Yes!” Gildor breathed. “Please, do.”

“Well, introduce me to the luxury of your bed, then.”

“The luxury of my bath goes first.”

Gildor pushed himself away from Haldir, hooked his finger into the loosened laces of Haldir’s leggings and pulled his lover after himself.


Some hours later Gildor was lying in his bed by Haldir’s side, blissfully sated and pleasantly exhausted. He was listening to the music of Haldir’s even breathing to the ever-present accompaniment of murmuring water. Haldir sighed softly in his sleep, shifted his weight and draped one arm over Gildor’s chest. Gildor pulled him closer gently and smiled into the darkness contentedly. It was good to be home.


Seron vell – beloved
Ernilen – my princes
Gwanûn – twins
Pen dithen – little one
Ernilen vyrn – my dark princes
Dagnir-e-guilen – bane of my life
Silfael - Moonbeam