Oathbound, Heartbroken *COMPLETE*

Title: Oathbound, Heartbroken 2/?
Author: Eawen Penallion
email: cross_stitcherire@yahoo.com
LiveJournal: http://www.livejournal.com/users/eawen_penallion/
Type: FPS
Pairing: Haldir/Melpomaen
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: Slash, explicit sexual encounters between two males.
Beta: Most excellent Nienna, so encouraging!
Disclaimer: all rights to the characters belong to JRR
Tolkien – I’m only playing with them.
Timeline: Middle of Third Age
Feedback: Yes please,
Archive: OEAM, AFF, LJ, anywhere else, please ask

Summary : Haldir has waited for his soulmate for all his life, and now seems to have found that elf. But to claim his love, he must break an oath.


Chapter 2


The gentle welcoming smile on Melpomaen's face began to slip slowly away as Haldir stood shocked and still in the doorway of the room. The young scribe's fierce excitement at meeting this beautiful Silvan elf, into whose eyes he had gazed with dawning love, now faded in the extended clamour of silence resounding in the room, and his heart clenched in sorrow. So this was why Haldir's brother Orophin had warned him, had counselled him to approach this meeting with a cautious guard around his heart. Haldir of Lórien had not known that he, Melpomaen, was an ellon - and Haldir of Lórien was obviously not a lover of males.

When he had heard that voice upon the heights, so filled with sympathy and concern, Melpomaen had made a determined effort to climb to consciousness, to see the elf that spoke so gently and with such empathy. When at last his heavy eyelids had conceded the battle and had flickered open, he had been met with perfection. Long blonde hair shimmering in the sunlight, with glints of silver dancing and sparkling under Anor's rays. A proud face, determined yet compassionate, whose strong features had enhanced Melpomaen's immediate sense of trust in this magnificent edhel. And those eyes - silver-blue, crystal-clear - had chimed as a bell, awakening his heart. In those few seconds, a brief moment in time, Melpomaen knew that his life had changed forever.

The kind and expert care on his arrival in Lothlórien had helped his recovery, but his health had improved beyond reckoning when Orophin had told him that Lord Celeborn had ordered Haldir's return from the borders to assist in the interpretation of the newly-arrived scrolls and books. It was his assignment too, and the thought of spending hour upon hour in the company of the beautiful, elegant Marchwarden had filled him with delight. For in his admittedly short life of only five hundred years, none had touched Melpomaen's soul as did Haldir of Lórien.

Although young, Melpomaen had on his Awakening partaken of the usual explorations of the flesh with both ellith and ellyn, but his many and fervent unions had petered away fairly quickly soon after. As enjoyable as they had been, ultimately he had felt that they offered him little in the way of food for the soul. He knew, as did all elves, that one day it was possible that he would meet his soulmate; countless liaisons of the body, without meaning or joy, was not the route that he wished to take to that day. Although he was fully aware of his attractions (for they had been enumerated many times by his erstwhile suitors) Melpomaen of Imladris had somehow retained his air of unspoiled innocence, and that innocence was a reflection of the true state of his inner sense of self-worth. When the spurned elves had learned of his commitment to a lover yet unfound they had outwardly laughed, yet inwardly envied the strength of mind of the young ellon - and the lucky elf that would one day complete him.

And now that strength of mind was faltering under the silent onslaught of the stunned gaze of the Marchwarden. Melpomaen wanted nothing more than to leap out of the bed and run into the arms of Haldir - to hold him, to caress him and to reassure him that all would be well, if Haldir would but give them a chance to be together. Instead he took a steadying breath and composed himself, striving to be calm and reserved in the face of the probable rebuff of his growing attraction. He extended his hand.

"Are those flowers for me?" he asked gently, gesturing to the posy, long forgotten in Haldir's hand. "They are very beautiful."

Haldir looked blankly down at them, as if noticing them for the first time.

"Yes," he said numbly. "I suppose they are."

Melpomaen raised an eyebrow, an uncanny trick that he had unconsciously copied from the Lord of Imladris and Haldir blushed, awkwardly extending the small bouquet so that Melpomaen could take it from his hands. Their fingers touched for a moment in the exchange, and the sensual sensation of the softness of Melpomaen's skin shot up the length of Haldir's arm as the nerves fired their dancing impulses with startling speed. In that brief second their eyes met again, and Haldir could only nod his head in assent and comply when Melpomaen invited him to sit beside the bed.

"Once again," Melpomaen said softly, "I would thank you for the help that you gave us - gave *me* - after that dreadful attack."

Haldir shook his head, hardly believing that he sat and talked as his dream crumbled about him.

"I did nothing," he managed to say past the encroaching lump in his throat. "Glorfindel and the troops of Imladris were the ones who fought so bravely."

"Yet yours was the voice that I heard in the darkness," Melpomaen pressed firmly. "Yours was the voice that pulled me out of my fevered delirium and gave me the strength, the *will* to survive until I could be given further aid." His hand slid across the sheet to touch Haldir's, which rested upon the coverlet. To his alarm and dismay Haldir jumped out of his chair and backed away to the door.

"I should go," the warrior stuttered, as he reached behind him for the door handle.

Melpomaen stretched out his hand in involuntary supplication, fear of loss tingeing his aching voice.

"Please, you will return, won't you? You will come to see me again?"

Haldir shook his head mutely, and then fled from the room before his resolve could wither.

The younger elf stared at the open door for a long moment before curling into the bed, arms clutched tight around a soft pillow. Only the growing damp stain upon the pillowcase bore witness to his silent tears.

****

Haldir at first walked quickly, then broke into a trot, then into a run. He ran through the trees, his feet hitting the path with echoing thuds as he tried to escape the treacherous thoughts reverberating in his head. He knew not where he ran and he ignored the annoyed shouts of the elves who had to step quickly out of his way. He did not hear his brother's cries for him to stop. All that he could do was focus on the pounding of his heart; each beat a stride bringing him further away from the elf who had deceived him. The elf to whom he was so drawn. The very, very beautiful *male* elf.

Haldir finally stopped, panting to regain his breath, then he dropped to his knees onto the forest floor and grasped his head in his hands, trembling with emotion. He was isolated, with no reference to the world around him. How long he knelt he did not know, but a hand upon his shoulder and softly spoken words broke through his isolation.

"Haldir? Tôren?"

A fierce rage swelled within his breast and rushed through his veins in white-hot heat. In one swift movement born of his long life and the superb fighting skills he had gained therein, Haldir rose and turned, his outstretched hands shoving firmly into the elf's chest to deposit the miscreant onto his back on the leaf-strewn ground.

"You! Have you come to gloat, you bastard? You knew, you son of an orc! You knew that Melpomaen was an ellon! You liar! You filthy, deceiving liar!"

Orophin was stunned to see tears falling over hot cheeks - not a trickle, but a torrent - in wild abandoned sobbing. Haldir was crying.

Haldir never cried.

The last time that Orophin had seen his brother weep was at the deaths of their parents and even then it was a slow dignified tear, not this desperate outpouring of grief.

"Haldir, I-" He realised that he did not know what to say. He saw the normally cool, calm Marchwarden, his brother, Haldir of Lórien stand firm upon his wide stance, his hands repeatedly clenching into fists. Orophin realised that Haldir was trying to restrain himself from throwing control to the four winds and that this fierce control was the only thing that was saving him, Orophin, from being beaten to a bloody pulp. The rebuff came through clenched teeth.

"Get out of my sight, Orophin. Get out of my way. You do not know what you have done this day."

It stung him, the rejection in those words. Yes, he did know what he had done or at least, what he had tried to do. He had tried to get his brother to meet his soulmate, knowing that if he had told him the truth then Haldir would have rejected the meeting out of hand. Anger rising within him, Orophin clambered to his feet and faced his elder brother.

"Yes, I lied! I lied to get you to meet Melpomaen, you stubborn idiot! To meet someone who could complete you! You know, Haldir, sometimes I feel that this is all one great big act," he gestured with his arms, enfolding the expanse around them. "Poor Haldir. All alone. So sad. 'Let's feel sorry for big brother, because he has no one to hold, no one to share his life with.' Well, it worked for a long time, Haldir. But no more, you are going to fool me no longer. We've tried to help you, support you - but how can we, when you reject love every time the possibility comes near you? I think that you *want* to be alone. Well, fine!"

Orophin's voice dropped as he suddenly realised just *why* he was so angry.

"You know, every time that you reject the possibility of an ellon, I wonder why. I wonder what brought you to that way of thinking. I wonder, how can you reject the many and varied ways of Ilúvatar's gifting to us of our soulmates? Then at the last, I wonder just *how* do you view Doron and I? Is your acceptance of our love, of our marriage nothing but a huge pretence? Do we really disgust you? Have you some deep-seated prejudice against love between ellyn? And then, I wonder if that is perhaps the truth - and if I ever really knew you at all."

With that Orophin turned and walked away leaving Haldir alone, staring stunned after his younger brother. Finally, long after Orophin had gone from beyond his sight, Haldir spoke softly, so softly that none could possibly have heard him.

"You are wrong, so wrong, my darling brother. I do not hate you, instead I envy you. I so wish that I could be like you, that I could follow your path and find your joy, but I can't. I swore an oath."

With the last tear slipping down his face, he lifted his head to the treetops, and the endless sky beyond.

"Didn't I, Adar?"

****

Haldir had just fastened the last of the straps of his travel bag when he heard footsteps outside the door of his talan, then the click of the latch. Irritated, he turned to face the elf who had dared to enter his private abode, intent upon giving him a sharp lecture on manners unbecoming a member of the Firstborn. He stopped, surprised, when he saw who it was.

“My – my Lord Celeborn!” he said shakily.

The silver-haired lord strolled silently into the room, glancing about the spacious talan that belonged to his foremost Marchwarden, and to Haldir’s parent before him. Haldir gulped, glad then that he had taken the time to return the rooms to their usual immaculate order, rather than the disarray of his hopeful enrobing of earlier that day.

Observing Celeborn’s blank expression Haldir winced inwardly, waiting for the deserved tongue-lashing that was due to him for forgetting his debriefing with the Lord of the Galadhrim. Celeborn had finished his mild inspection of his quarters and now turned to Haldir, his face devoid of any expression of ire, or indeed, of any other emotion.

“You know, Haldir,” he said with an uncharacteristic mildness that made the Marchwarden shudder, “When I ask to receive a report from one of my warriors, I usually find that the said warrior will attend me in the Great Mallorn. This is indeed a novelty for me to find that I have to wait upon my most senior officer in his own quarters.”

Haldir’s heart dropped, knowing that this admonition was worse than any of the brief outbursts of anger he was witnessed his lord display in the past. Celeborn of Lórien was not an edhel to take fools, or slights, lightly. Haldir had been derelict in his duty, and now he was about to pay for it.

“I am sorry, my lord, but events distracted me – “

“I have no interest in your love life, Haldir,” – ‘ Oh Gods, he knows!’ thought Haldir, flushing in embarrassment – “save when it interferes with the security of this realm. If you want sympathy and counselling, go to my wife.” Celeborn’s eyes blazed as he finally released his fury.

“Do not *ever* make me come to you again, Haldir. I have placed a great deal of trust in your capabilities. Up until now I have not been disappointed. Up until now.” The silver eyes glanced at the bag resting upon the table. The eyes travelled to Haldir’s face, noting the incipient panic therein. “Off on a journey, Haldir?”

“I thought to return to my post on the Northern Fences, my Lord,” he stuttered. “We were but one week into our duty assignment - “

Celeborn raised a hand, halting the brief explanation.

“I know precisely where each of my warriors serves at any moment in the duty cycle, Haldir. Your patrol will go back to the borders in three days – with Orophin in command.”

“What!” Haldir could not retain his disbelief. To be relieved of command for just one failing in a thousand years? And replaced by his brother, no less? The sense of deep hurt caused him to remonstrate with his lord. “No, I cannot believe that I have failed you to that extent! This is unfair, my lord - ”

“And who says that Life is fair, Marchwarden?” the Lord of Lórien interrupted sharply. “Life is never fair, Haldir. Life kills your kin, aye, even at the hands of other elves. Life, and its evil servants, corrupts your friends into the making of magical rings, and causes the downfall of yet another elven realm. Life, as perpetrated by an evil Vala and his minions, brings death to my High King. And Life tempts a spouse into bearing a Ring of Power, thus causing that evil Eye to turn towards this golden haven. It is my task to face up to Life, and protect this realm and the elves within with every breath of my body. Aye, and even if I were disappointed in love, as you are, then I would set that emotion aside so that I could fulfil my duty - without spilling self-indulgent tears of sorrow for things that I could easily remedy, if I but allowed for change in my heart and my life!”

The rage was righteous and the fury direct, and Haldir felt every word roll around and through him, each syllable ringing with an intensity that was deep and true. He recoiled from the last sentence, for he knew that within those words was his hope, directions from the lord to solve his dilemma in a way he could not yet face. He returned his attention to Celeborn, who was yet speaking, though his tone was measured once more.

“Your remaining here in Caras Galadhon is in no way related to your lack of report, Marchwarden. The documents that have arrived from Imladris now require intensive study. Reports of battle need to be correlated with those already in our archives, then analysed from a military point of view. I am assigning you to this task, Haldir. Your training in strategy and tactics, and your expertise in divining the relevant statements within these kinds of reports places you at the centre of this work. We need every advantage we can find if we are going to win the Final Battle against Sauron. I am depending upon you to find it.

“Lord Glorfindel has kindly agreed to remain with us for three months, for he has fought against both Morgoth and Sauron in his two lifetimes, and can give us the benefit of his extensive experience in these encounters. Thus you will work with him and with our historians to find weaknesses in Sauron’s scheming. The scribes of Imladris will remain with us for that period, and some for longer if necessary.” Celeborn held the Marchwarden’s gaze at this statement. “You *will* work with them, Haldir, to the fullest extent. The security of this realm is more important than your personal considerations.”

Haldir placed his hand over his heart and bowed in acquiescence, even as said heart lurched in the realisation that, for three months at least, he would have to work alongside Melpomaen of Imladris. He closed his eyes briefly, visualising the enticing ellon, and wondered how he could survive the next ninety days with his oath intact.

Celeborn had acknowledged Haldir’s assent and now made as if to exit the room. As he placed his hand upon the latch of the door he turned once more to the silent elf, a sly grin upon his face.

“By the way, Haldir – I must compliment you on the restrained manner in which you dealt with your brother. Me? I would have hammered Orophin into the ground for daring to interfere in my private life. Then again, I suppose that it is better that our acting marchwarden should *not* be nursing a broken jaw whilst patrolling the northern border.”

And with a loud laugh, he was gone.


TBC

Elvish:

ellon - male elf (sing.)
edhel - elf (sing.)
ellith - female elves (pl.)
ellyn - male elves (pl.)
tôren - my brother
Adar - father