Friendly Wagers

Chapter Four


“Maybe if we keep quiet, he will think this room to be vacant.” Whispered Elessar to the elves around him. There had already been two previous strings of knocks upon the doors, and a third began.

“He is an elf. He knows us to be here, Estel. You will need to make a hasty decision.” Advised Elrond.

Voices could be heard now in the hall. Gimli, most definitely, and a few of the guards had now approached and were questioning the dwarf and the unfamiliar elf. Instead of responding, Haldir pushed the doors to the room open, striding purposefully into the room as he ignored those calling out behind him. His feet paused as he came to the edge of the large wooden conference table, taking note of the layout of the room. Legolas had his back to him, the other three focused upon Haldir. The Lórien elf felt a slight wave of discomfort at the gaze he received from the trio, but he did not show it as he continued to advance, preferring to stop just below Elessar at the foot of the steps.

Elessar stood, jumping down the stairs. “Mae govannen, Haldir o Lórien!” he said, greeting the elf warmly with a hug as he motioned for the guards to leave. The King’s eyes shifted to Legolas, who was backing down the stairs toward Gimli, keeping upon the king a look that continued to remind him of the part ad pad played in these events.

Haldir, who was becoming more accustomed to the former ranger’s sudden outbursts of emotion, gave him a hesitant pat on the back, prompting the king to release him. “Mae govannen. Many thanks from the Golden Woods for your invitation to this festival. You must forgive me, but I do not know the proper name of this gathering.” His intonation caused his statement to become a question, and he waited expectantly for the king’s response.

In fact, the other occupants of the room seemed to hold their collective breath as they awaited King Elessar’s answer. “Yes, the festival.” Elessar cleared his throat as his eyes darted to Legolas in desperation. Were it not for his own keen hearing, Haldir may have missed the faint sound of Legolas softly mouthing out ‘pre-harvest festival’. Haldir was distracted, however, from any reaction to what he heard from the sudden wide smile and booming announcement from the king. “The Pre-Harvest Festival!”

Haldir’s eyes flitted briefly to the smirking face of Elrond, his softly giggling daughter, and back again to the grinning Elessar. “Huh.” Was all Haldir was able to manage.


---


“And these will be your quarters for your stay.” Legolas explained, hurriedly pushing the door open to the guest chambers he had brought Haldir to. “Though they are not as comfortable as a tree, I hope they are to your liking.”

The Lórien elf stepped cautiously into the room. It was cozy enough, and thankfully not too extravagant. The room was big enough for two at the least, though he supposed this room had really been meant for Galadriel and Celeborn had they come. Exploring further, Haldir found there were two other rooms extending from this one - the bath and a place one could take meals or speak with guests, depending. There was a third set of doors, this one leading out to a small balcony, from which one could view nearly the entirety of Southern Gondor in miniature. “The room is more than adequate, Prince Legolas.” Haldir assured him, setting his sack down upon a table near the door. “If you do not mind, I think I may take some time to myself here. My watch of the borders had been long, and coupled with the ride, even an elf such as I requires rest on occasion.”

Legolas nodded. “Shall I have you called for supper?”

Haldir suppressed the urge to shake his head at the younger elf. He had brought along enough lembas to last at least a month - in fact, most of his sack consisted of the elven bread. However, it would be disrespectful to refuse to take supper with the rest of the guests, and Lord Elrond would no doubt mention such an act to the Lord and Lady when he returned to see them in Imladris. Besides, thousands of years of lembas for breakfast, lunch, and dinner, made nearly anything seem better. “I shall see you then.” Haldir finally nodded.

Another nod, and then Legolas exited, closing the door behind him. As he turned to leave, he was surprised to see a slightly bluing Gimli standing but a few feet away.

Suppressing a laugh, Legolas dragged the dwarf far enough from the door not to be heard by the Lórien elf. “Whooooo…I was afraid I was gointa pass out for a moment there.” Gimli said with a sigh of relief after taking a few deep breaths.

“What ever were you doing, Gimli?” questioned Legolas.

“We don’t all have the trust of the guardian, Master Elf. I had to make sure you weren’t going to cheat. And since I breath loud enough to be shot in the dark, I wasn’t taking any chances in the daylight!” Gimli exclaimed over Legolas’s light laughter.

Legolas patted the dwarf on the back as they walked away down the hall. “On my honor, I will not cheat at this game. But I warn you, I do not intend to lose this little bet.”

“You may not intend to lose,” smiled Gimli, “but you’re going to.” Boldly, Gimli reached behind Legolas and gave a sharp yet playful tug on the elf’s nearest braid.

“Aieee! Gimli!” Legolas swiped at Gimli in an attempt to grasp the dwarf’s beard, but Gimli had backed up against the wall of the corridor. Legolas held himself back for a moment. It would be childish, it would be inappropriate, and it would most definitely not be the behavior of a prince. But still, it was a matter of pride now. Legolas jumped at Gimli, intending to pull the beard clear off. Within a few moments, a dwarf and an elf were wrestling in the hall, laughing madly at one another as they exchanged the worst known insults. They stopped as they rolled into something. Something that wasn’t hard like a wall - something that was more like a pair of legs. Abruptly, they detangled, and stood up rather sheepishly. The looks of embarrassment slid into onf jof joy as they found the owner of the legs.

“Gandalf!” cried Gimli, wrapping his arms about the wizard.

“Mithrandir, what brings you here?” Legolas asked, clasping a hand upon Gandalf’s shoulder.

“I am escorting two hobbits on a mushroom hunting expedition.” Smiled the Istari, motioning to Pippin and Merry, who stood behind him, amused expressions from the skirmish they’d witnessed. “For some reason, I felt we should stop here. I’m glad we did - I didn’t know Aragorn had taken to having pre-harvest festivals.”

Legolas hurried the three further from the hall just in case Haldir could still hear what was going on, then began to explain how Aragorn had just suddenly come to decide to hold such an event.


---


Elrond lounged across the softly padded bench that overlooked a small pond in the garden. He smiled at the surroundings, knowing the gardening had been Arwen’s doing, and in that way she was so much like her grandmother. He nearly thought he could hear his daughter’s voice now, carried through the trees toward him. In fact, he was much more correct than he thought he was - her voice was indeed approaching, and her along with it. But it was Elessar whom he saw first, pushing branches out of his way as he appeared to be making an attempt to lose his wife. Close behind, Arwen tried to explain herself to her husband.

“But you must understand-“

“My darling, no.” Elessar said simply, flopping down in mock exhaustion upon the bench near Elrond’s feet.
“Estel, give me but a moment to explain-“

“I will not agree to it, dearest.” He interrupted, crossing his arms in protest. Elrond b to to take interest in the conversation, peering over his book now to Arwen.

“How am I to plan a gathering if I am not allowed to do the planning?” asked an exasperated elven lady, throwing her arms te ske sky.

“I do not care what you plan, but I cannot agree to this.” The King of Gondor leaned back against the bench, interrupted by a hand upon his arm.

Elrond cleared his throat as he gently closed his book. “Sometimes, in marriage, concessions must be made. Some battles are better won by compromise than by war.”

Elessar sighed deeply, looking first at Elrond, then to Arwen. The she-elf smirked a bit, somehow knowing her father was supporting her argument. Elrond spoke again, this time to Elessar alone. “Now that you are wed, you may find yourself yielding to that which your wife desires to keep peace in your house.”

Elessar gritted his teeth. “Right.” Turning to Arwen, he smiled lovingly at her. “I yield to you, my wife.” To Elrond, he simply gave him a pat on his shoulder. “Tag. You’re it.” With those words, Elessar stood, readying to leave the garden.

“What? I do not understand you, Estel. What do you mean, ‘tag’?” Elrond’s question was quickly answered as his daughter rushed to him, settling herself in Elessar’s place.

“Oh, thank you, Ada! I knew you would understand the importance of having Grandmother and Granpapa here at the celebration.” Arwen leaned over to hug Elrond, oblivious of his wide-eyed expression of horror. “And since you and Grandmother can far speak, I assumed it would be faster for you to send her the message yourself and spare the horse and rider from delivering it!”

“I, uh, I do not think that to be such a good idea.” Elrond said carefully, making an attempt to return to his book.

“Why ever not, Ada? Then you need not return to Rivendell to see them. It would be like a family reunion.” Insisted Arwen.

Knowing to refuse would cause Arwen to send word another way, Elrond opened his book and began to flip through the pages with great interest. “I do not want Glorfindel to think me rude to send word for your grandparents to come here. There is so little for him to do these days, he greatly enjoys such visits.”

“He would not have to stay in Imladris, either.” Arwen reasoned. “Though, I would hope that he will grace us with a story other than that of his great fight with the Balrog.” Arwen said, crinkling her nose.

Elrond shut his book, looking over to where Elessar was standing clear from the situation. ‘See what position you have put me in?’ his expression seemed to say to the king, but to Arwen, Elrond merely smiled. “I shall contact her then, and tell her she can relay the message to Glorfi as as well.” Elrond waited for Arwen to leave, or for Estel to escort her away, but she continued to sit, staring at him. “Was there something else, my daughter?”

“Were you not going to contact Grandmother?” asArweArwen.

“Of course I will.” Elrond paused, then added. “What, now, my child?”

Arwen nodded earnestly. “I shall await her answer. If I could but far speak to her myself, I would have asked her already, but since I can only receive her thoughts, I must be content to have you ask in my stead.”

Elrond tucked the book next to him on the seat. He sat up, readjusting himself. Continuing to stall, he smoothed out his robes, brushed back his hair, and gave another look over his shoulder at Elessar, who was now speaking quietly to Legolas. Turning back to his daughter, he knew he could not fake far speaking. She was too wise for such a maneuvere woe would have to choose someone else instead.

The elder elf’s face suddenly took on a faraway look as he reached out with his mind. “Galadriel…mae govannen…” he began, his voice clear, yet soft, as it flowed from him and into the mind of another.

When he had finished, he looked around, and noted that both Elessar and Legolas were gone. Arwen was still staring with great interest, waiting for the reply.

“Will they come?” she finally asked.

“They will if they are able.” Elrond told her, pressing a kiss against her forehead. “Now, leave your poor father to some peace and find your husband so that you may keep him from mischief.”

“Thank you, Ada!” beamed Arwen, returning the kiss to her father’s cheek. She hastily retreated in the direction Elessar had escaped.


---


Elessar had planned to continue to watch Elrond’s attempt to dig himself from the hole he’d unknowingly jumped into, but a tap on his shoulder alerted him to the presence of another. He turned to find Legolas. The elf peered curiously around the man at Elrond and Arwen, before giving Elessar a small customary half bow. “Estel, you shall never guess who has arrived.”

“The Lord Celeborn and the Lady Galadriel?” asked Elessar wryly.

Legolas furrowed his brow. “I thought you had told me I should tear up their invitation and burn it if need be.”

“Go!” Elessar hissed, checking first to be sure his beloved had not heard the exchange.

“What? Right here?” Legolas motioned to the ground, looking at it with a strange expression. Elessar shot the elf a contemptuous look, and Legolas frowned. “Well, I wasn’t sure. You were being so bossy.”

Elessar grasped the front of Legolas’s tunic, pulling the elf down the path, practically dragging him by the throat. Into the palace, and still the king did not let go until they had reached a study on the second floor of the castle.

“What was that for?” demanded Legolas when he had been release“You“You told me you did not wish the Lord and Lady to be invited. I do not see why you found the need to humiliate me in such a manner when I was but following your orders.” Legolas straightened his clothing, frowning as he found the tunic was now stretched out of shape by Elessar’s tugs and yanks. “You may be a king, Estel, but still I am a prince - and have been since my birth.” He added pointedly.

Elessar clenched his fists and his teeth, closing his eyes before looking purposely at the west end of the room. “Elbereth give me strength! Why has this one not been called yet by the sea?!” Elessar shouted, hoping no one was in range to hear his words.

The Prince of Mirkwood’s lower lip protruded slightly, then slid out a little more as the full impact of the words hit him. “That wasn’t very nice, Estel.” Legolas continued to pout, then added. “I have been called by the sea, you know.”

“You’re too young.” Elessar said, shaking his head.

“It’s true!” defended Legolas. “I’m only staying because of you.”

“Liar.” Smirked Elessar, but he could tell by the elf’s voice it was no lie.

“No, really.” Legolas walked to the window, placing one hand to rest upon the edge. “It is because of you that I stay. Well, and maybe the dwarf. Just a little because of him. But mostly you. Someone needs to keep you out of trouble.”

Elessar approached him, placing a hand upon his shoulder. “For that I thank you, my friend. I could not imagine how uneventful and less celebratory my reign would be without you.”

“Shall I attend to the Lady Arwen, then, and see what help she needs for this festival?” Legolas asked, his eyes sparkling, though he kept his expression neutral.

“Aye.” Agreed Elessar. “And mind that she does not sneak in an invitation for Celeborn and Galadriel.”

“Aye.” Grinned Legolas.


---



Haldir rested comfortably upon the bed in the room he’d been given. He thought at first to rest, to go into reverie, but he could rest in no other manner but this in Lothlórien. Feeling that he was not pressured to be as mindful of his surroundings, he opted for his more favored method of rest - sleep. It was not often that elves slept, as so few were comfortable with what came with sleep - dreams. Baldialdir enjoyed dreaming thoroughly, and it was this final thought that he had before closing his eyes and succumbing to slumber.

“Are you awake?” questioned a voice. Haldir’s eyes fluttered open. Before him stood an elf, not unknown to him, bathed in moonlight. They locked eyes, and but a few moments later, lips, as the two embraced. They were in Lothlórien, beneath the towering mallyrn. The night, as all in this land, was clear and filled with the glittering stars overhead.

Haldir broke the union suddenly, anxious to divest the elf before him of all attire. The other elf had similar thoughts, first untying Haldir’s tunic and dropping it into the leaves below, then pulling down the soft grey leggings and undergarments so that the guardian was as nude as his counterpart. Again they kissed, fiercer now, and with inhibitions gone as hands roved over the other’s body, lovingly caressing and playfully grasping one another.

Strong hands circled the waist of the other elf, and Haldir brought them both to the ground, still in the midst of oral exploration. Greedily, Haldir left his companion’s mouth and began to bite at the soft flesh around the elf’s throat, neck, and shoulders, growling as he was rewarded with pants and groans. He felt himself throbbing at the reaction and pressed against the elf’s hip, grinding as he continued his ministrations. Haldir’s hands wrapped themselves into the long strands of the elf’s hair, pulling closer for a deep kiss.

Until suddenly Haldir became distracted. Hd nod not know why, but against his better judgment, he turned his head. That’s when he saw Elrond, with an extremely far-off look on his face.

“Lord Elrond?” Haldir felt compelled to stand, despite the current state of undress he was in.

“Galadriel…mae govannen…” began the Lord of Imladris, not quite looking at Haldir, yet seemingly addressing him.

“My lord?” Haldir looked behind him nervously, at first thinking the Lady Galadriel was perhaps behind him. They were in Lothlórien after all. But he saw no Galadriel, only a slightly curious and surprised elf, laying upon the ground looking up with questioning eyes. Haldir turned back to the intruding elf. “Lord Elrond? Are you well?”

<”Your granddaughter is organizing a celebration in Gondor, and we believe your invitation would arrive late if sent by conventional means. Hence, I have been asked to relay it to you. Lord Celeborn is invited as well, and you may tell Glorfl thl that he may accompany you if he so chooses.”> Elrond paused, and acted as if he were now listening intently to an answer.

“But…Glorfindel does not reside here in Lothlórien…” mused a puzzled Haldir before Elrond continued.

<”I understand if you decide to stay in Rivendell, of course. I shall return as soon as I am able. But we would be delighted if you were to come to Gondor for the festivities.”> Again, Elrond appeared to listen, nodding and tilting his head accordingly.

Haldir waved a hand in front of the dark-haired elf, then reached out to touch Elrond, but his hand passed through the other elf. “Strange…just like far speak…” he murmured, pulling his hand back.

<”I will tell Arwen your message.”> Assured Elrond. “Namarie.”

And with that, Elrond disappeared.

Haldir shook his head, and turned around, only to find he was alone under the branches. Sighing, he made for this clothing, planning to track the first elf he had encountered, but found nothing on the ground but leaves. Scrambling to the tree, he looked around the trunk, and still found nothing. Nothing that he wished to find, more accurately, for around the tree stood his brothers along with a half dozen Galadrim.

Turning, Haldir made an attempt to run back to the other side of the tree, but his legs became weighted as if he wore boots of lead. Clumsily, he fell over the root of the tree. And fell…and fell…and fell…

“Ai!” Haldir awoke with a start, finding himself upon the floor next to the bed. Breathing heavily, yet thankfully, he first cursed men and their high beds, then men and their notions of sleeping and dreaming, then men again, just for spite. Vowing silently to himself not to sleep again so as not to face another nightmare, Haldir threw the sheets to the end of the bed, dressed, and left the room in search of something to occupy him before dinner.