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

Chapter 4. Knight’s Move.

Next morning Glorfindel and his patrol left for the border. The Seneschal made the twins understand in not unclear terms that they were more than welcome to join him. Grumbling and complaining, they mounted their horses and rode away, leaving behind their still warm bed with an exhausted but pacified minstrel in it.
Haldir spent the following two weeks getting acquainted with Imladris and the members of Gildor’s patrol. The guards gave him a friendly reception, whether for his own or for Gildor’s sake – Haldir could not tell. But they easily accepted him into their company and treated him as one of them, be it on the training grounds or on a bender in a tavern. They did stare at first when they heard Gildor laugh and did throw curious glances Haldir’s way when they saw how casually he wrapped his arm around Gildor’s waist. But they got quickly accustomed to the changes and actually welcomed them, for it was obvious that their Captain was much happier than he used to be.
Haldir did not feel forlorn any longer when Gildor had to leave him to attend to some business. He felt more at home now in the large house and on its premises.
One afternoon, while Gildor sat in his office catching up on the patrol reports covering the period of his absence, Haldir decided he could do with some reading too. So he headed for the library, remembering on the way that he would find Erestor there. The advisor was sure to know all about Lord Elrond’s collection of books and could help Haldir to choose something to read.
When he entered the spacious room, everything he could see at first were endless rows of shelves filled with innumerable volumes. He walked slowly between the ranks further ahead and in the very heart of the chamber found the advisor sitting at his desk by the window. Erestor looked annoyed by the disturbance, but when he saw who the intruder was, the expression of irritation on his face was quickly replaced by one of friendly benevolence.
“Haldir! What a pleasant surprise,” he said, putting down his quill. “What can I do for you?”
“I’m sorry to disturb you,” Haldir apologized with a smile. “I would like something to read. Perhaps you could advise me?”
Erestor leaned back in his armchair. “What kind of reading would you like?” he asked.
Haldir could not see the advisor’s face properly with the sun shining through the window behind Erestor’s back, and it made the young elf feel a little uncomfortable.
“I do not know,” he shrugged. “Something interesting, maybe entertaining… or useful?”
Erestor chuckled. “Interesting, entertaining and useful, all at once? Well… I think I know a book that can be of interest to you.”
He rose from his desk and, beckoning Haldir to follow him, walked up to a high bookcase in the corner, opened it and pointed at one of the volumes on the upper shelf.
“Can you see that book with a dark blue back? Take it out. I think you are tall enough to reach it.”
He stepped back, giving place to Haldir. The Galadhel had to rise on his toes to get the book and while he did so, Erestor let his eyes rove up and down Haldir’s form appraisingly. One thing he could say for Gildor – the Vanya chose his lovers well.
“So, what is it about?” Haldir asked, turning to him with the volume in his hands.
“Have a look for yourself,” Erestor offered.
Haldir opened the book at random and his eyebrows rose in surprise at the illustrations he saw on the page. “What’s this? A manual for the beginners?”
Erestor laughed. “No, I’d say it’s more of a treatise. Though, the twins did use it as a handbook at one time.”
Haldir shut the volume with a slam. “I do not think I’ll find anything new in it.”
“All right,” Erestor agreed lightly. “Then simply put it back and choose something else. But you must forgive me – I have to get back to my work.”
And he returned to his desk. From his place at the window he could see the Galadhel quite well. Erestor smirked to himself: the young elf was flipping through the pages. Then Haldir moved absentmindedly to an armchair and perched on the armrest. Erestor took up his quill and resumed his work, being absolutely sure Haldir was not leaving any time soon. When after a while Erestor threw a glance into Haldir’s direction again, his quill stopped abruptly in the middle of a word as his eyes were greeted by a picturesque sight.
The young Galadhel was draped casually across the armchair, one long leg dangling over the armrest, the other stretched out in front of him. He held the book in his lap, turning pages slowly. One of his elegantly curved eyebrows was raised in thoughtful contemplation, and now and then a flicker of amusement quirked up his lips. Erestor wished he knew what thoughts and images were forming behind those derisive dark blue eyes. He knew, though, which way his own thoughts were made to wander by the simple allure of Haldir’s presence, and which parts of the book he would gladly put into practice with the Galadhel in his bed or, rather, with the Galadhel *bound* to his bed.
Erestor was brought out of his blissful reverie by the sound of the library door being opened and of resolute footsteps approaching his place at the window. He knew whose steps they were even before Gildor appeared between the rows of shelves. Erestor sat up in his chair.
“Captain? To what do I owe the honour?”
“I was told Haldir went here,” Gildor told him without a preamble. “So where is my lover, Erestor?”
Gildor heard some rustling behind his back and turned in time to see Haldir scramble up to his feet and put the book hurriedly back into the bookcase. Gildor’s eyebrows quirked up in amusement. When Haldir turned around and saw the Vanya watching him, his cheeks coloured a little.
“You were busy so I came here to find something to read,” he explained awkwardly.
“And immediately came across the book on the upper shelf of a locked bookcase?” Gildor’s eyes were dancing with mirth.
“Erestor helped me,” Haldir admitted.
“Of course. Your friend Erestor. Why didn’t I guess myself?” Gildor threw a look at the advisor who was busily shifting papers on his desk. “But I think you can take the book with you because, being a true friend of yours, Erestor is sure to give you his permission willingly. As well as he’ll willingly explain to you the parts you can find the most difficult or give you some practical lessons, should you need any.”
Erestor kept his eyes down wisely. Haldir felt warmth creep up his face again.
“I do not need any lessons,” he declared indignantly. “And I do not need the book. There is nothing new in it anyway.”
“There is not?” Gildor was amused by his young lover’s categorical attitude. “Let me assure you, Silfael, that no one can know everything. There is always space for novelty and improvement. Besides, that book can provide a very pleasant pastime. I’ll show you tonight if you go and fetch it.”
Haldir went to retrieve the volume from the shelf and Gildor stared at Erestor with a thoughtful smile on his lips. The advisor fidgeted a little but managed to preserve his composure.
“I think I should thank you for the clever choice for Haldir’s reading, Erestor,” the Vanya murmured. “I’m sure we’ll spend a very pleasant evening together, reading and… discussing the most interesting passages.”
Erestor thought it wise to keep his own counsel, but as Gildor and Haldir walked to the door, he watched them go with a condescending smile. They were only warriors after all, and he was sure he’d be able to outmatch them both in the game of scheming and intriguing.

Days flew by swiftly and soon it was time for Gildor’s patrol to change Glorfindel’s on the border. To his satisfaction Haldir found that the daily round of an Imladris patrol was in many respects the same as that of a Lórien one, so he followed the pattern with no trouble. Gildor treated him as one of his soldiers and showed no inclination to give Haldir an easy time. His guards expected no less from their Captain, they trusted him. They did watch Haldir at first, though. But when they saw that he did his share of work honestly and did not use his relationship with Gildor to gain any privileges or advantages, they liked him even more and accepted him completely. Haldir felt he was in his element once again and would have been absolutely happy but for one thing.
This small something that prevented Haldir’s happiness from becoming complete and perfect was the painful necessity to practice abstinence while on the border. Gildor and he shared some quick hungry kisses, stolen behind a tree, but for the rest of the time they had to content themselves with longing glances and occasional touches. It came as no surprise that the guards did not fail to notice their predicament and were only glad to make jocular remarks and to give playful advice. However, they knew better than to overtax their Captain’s patience, wary of his fiery temper. For though Gildor was less stern these days, laughed readily and at times was almost indulgent, his tongue remained as sharp as ever and his humour could attain a cutting edge easily.
All in all, Haldir enjoyed his first patrol in Imladris. He was doing what he did best and his comrades respected him for that. He was by Gildor’s side and no one doubted his right for the place. And the affection and need he saw in Gildor’s eyes matched his own.
The only time when a dark cloud appeared on his horizon was when one day they passed a house on their way. It was not much of a house actually; rather something more like a cabin. For some reason, an uneasy feeling stirred in Haldir’s heart.
“What is that thing?” he asked Gildor.
“Oh, it’s just a hut visitors to Imladris or messengers use as a shelter if they are caught up in a storm or rain. We do not use it when on a patrol though, as it’s too small to house us all.”
Haldir looked at the cabin, wondering if it was this very building that he had seen in his vision in the Mirror. It definitely seemed large enough to accommodate three people quite comfortably…


The last morning of their patrol was bright, warm and uneventful. Convaethyr’s guards were to relieve them the next day, and all of them were looking forward to their return home and the rest they would have.
At noon Sadron, who was on guard by the ford, spied a group of riders on the other bank of the river. He reported to his Captain about it at once.
“They are elves,” Gildor said after a moment of concentration. Then he smiled. “From Mirkwood! Obviously, king Thranduil has sent his envoys to us, as he promised he would.”
He was right. One of the visitors was Brandir, Thranduil’s Chief Councilor. They met the Mirkwood delegation at the ford, and when Brandir saw Gildor, his face lost its formal expression, acquiring the look of genuine joy.
“Mae govannen, mellynen!” Gildor smiled. [Well met, my friends]
The Mirkwood elves seemed to be relieved and pleased by the fact that it was Gildor who welcomed them at the border. All of them knew him, at least by sight. In their opinion, it was a good omen that he was the first person they met in the realm of the Noldor, whom they were used to regard as the root of all afflictions.
“It is nice to see you again, Brandir,” Gildor said, clasping the Councilor’s forearm in greeting.
“You too, my Lord,” Brandir smiled.
It was strange for Haldir to hear Gildor being addressed by the honorific title: it was so easy to forget that his youthful-looking lover was in fact one of the oldest Elf Lords on Arda.
“Was your travel safe?” Gildor inquired in the meantime.
“Yes, thank you, my Lord, most of the time it was. Though we did have a couple of skirmishes in the Misty Mountains.”
“Were any of you hurt?” Gildor gave the Mirkwood company a quick perusal.
“Thank the Valar, no.”
“Good,” Gildor nodded. “How is king Thranduil?” he asked then, and Haldir’s jealous ear caught a warm note in his voice.
“He is fine, my Lord,” Brandir answered and let his eyes leave Gildor’s face for a brief moment and find Haldir among the guards.
Gildor understood that Thranduil was aware of the changes in his life. He also understood that Brandir, being Thranduil’s most experienced diplomat, would not elaborate on the subject in Haldir’s presence. A hardly audible sigh escaped his lips.
“And the princes?” he asked.
“They are fine too.”
“I’m glad to hear that. I’ll send one of my guards to escort you to the Last Homely House. I don’t think you’ve been here before?”
“No, my Lord,” Brandir shook his head with a smile. “We’ll be most grateful to you for a guide.”
Gildor turned to his guards to decide who of them to choose and met Haldir’s eyes.
“Can I have a word with you, Captain?” the Galadhel asked.
Gildor had a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach. Would he have to pacify his jealous lover again, and at such an ill-timed moment too? He braced himself for the inevitable but Haldir signed Arvegil, Gildor’s second-in-command, to join them.
“I think you should escort the Mirkwood delegation yourself,” Haldir said without a preamble.
It was the last thing Gildor expected to hear. He stared at Haldir in mute bewilderment for several moments before he could recover his voice.
“I cannot leave my patrol,” he objected.
“I think you can,” Haldir argued. “We’ll be relieved tomorrow morning. Arvegil can very well fill in for you till then. I’m sure he’ll manage it just fine. He did it during your absence, didn’t you, Lieutenant?”
“Aye, I did,” Arvegil confirmed, smiling.
“Besides,” Haldir went on, “shouldn’t we show the Mirkwood diplomats as much respect as we can? Especially since it’s the first official delegation from that realm to Imladris – for how long?”
“I think Haldir is right, Captain,” Arvegil seconded the Galadhel. “You are the best candidate for their guide.”
“And I think you are suspiciously insistent in your attempt to get rid of me,” Gildor retorted.
Arvegil looked at Haldir mournfully. “See? I told you it wouldn’t work. Now he won’t go and our plans for the evening will be ruined.” Then he turned to Gildor again. “Captain, cannot you be a good boy just for this once and go home? Guys will be devastated if you stay and spoil all the fun by your stern supervision.”
“Sons of dragon,” Gildor laughed.
“I’ll take it for a ‘yes’.” Arvegil grinned. “I’ll fetch your horse before you change your mind.”
When his Lieutenant left, Gildor looked at Haldir. “Silfael, when did you become such a crafty diplomat?”
“I have a lot of hidden talents,” Haldir answered with a smile. Then he put his hand on Gildor’s shoulder. “I know you *want* to go. I’m sure you are dying to hear the news and gossip that Mirkwood fox of a diplomat is doubtlessly stuffed with. And I’m sure all those things are meant only for your ears.”
A warm wave of genuine gratitude washed over Gildor.
“Oh, Haldir,” he breathed. “Thank you, seron vell.” [beloved]
Arvegil returned, leading Gildor’s horse. Haldir pulled his lover into his arms for a quick kiss. “See you tomorrow, meleth. Have a good time but miss me.” [love]
Gildor smirked. “You too, schemer.”
He mounted, the Mirkwood elves did the same and they started for the city. Gildor led the way, with Brandir riding by his side. Gildor gave the Councilor a side-glance.
“So he’s heard the news, hasn’t he?”
“Oh yes, my Lord, he has.”
“And how did he take it?”
A faint smile curved up Brandir’s lips. “I dare say His Majesty took the blow bravely.”
“Ah. Well… ” Gildor shrugged nonchalantly. “I knew it wouldn’t kill him anyway. I’m glad I was right. Did he say anything on the matter?”
“I have brought you a letter from king Thranduil, my Lord,” Brandir informed him dispassionately, though his eyes were sparking with laughter. “I’m sure you will learn from it everything you want to know.”
Gildor chuckled. “Do you think I am likely to be chastised for my infidelity?”
“I really cannot say, my Lord.”
They looked at each other and laughed, being unable to suppress their mirth any longer.
“The king said he had not thought he would live long enough to see you settle down,” Brandir said with a smile.
“Well,” Gildor shrugged. “I haven’t actually settled down yet but I’m working on it. How is Legolas?” he asked then.
“Oh, our young prince has always been of cheerful disposition but now he is shining brighter than Anor. Happiness becomes him.”
Gildor smiled affectionately.
“I’ve brought a letter from him to Lord Glorfindel,” Brandir continued. “A letter and a package.”
Gildor’s eyebrows quirked up in surprise. “A package?”
“It’s some kind of gift, I expect,” Brandir explained.
Gildor laughed. “Oh, Legolas leaves nothing to chance, doesn’t he?”
“No, he does not,” Brandir agreed, smiling.
“And how is Aranaur? What does he think about his brother’s amour?”
Brandir chuckled. “He talked the gardeners into making a flowerbed in front of Legolas’s window.”
“A flowerbed?”
“Yes. In the form of a heart with the letters L and G entwined.”
Gildor laughed. “What did Legolas do?”
“Made a naughty song about his brother. But I think he actually likes the floral design.”
“I really love your royals, Brandir,” Gildor said fondly.
“So do all of us, my Lord.”


The Mirkwood delegation was met by the Lord of Imladris, who had been alerted by Gildor. Before going to the room prepared for him, Brandir found Thranduil’s letter in his bag and handed it to Gildor.
“I can take Legolas’s package to Glorfindel if you trust me with the task,” the Vanya offered. “Or were you instructed to deliver it personally?”
“No, my Lord,” Brandir smiled. “I’m sure the prince wouldn’t mind if you do it.”
He gave Gildor a sealed parchment and something that looked and felt like a wooden casket, wrapped up in cloth.
When Gildor entered Glorfindel’s office, his friend looked at him in surprise.
“What are you doing here? Or is it tomorrow already?”
Gildor walked up to his desk, pushed aside a heap of rosters and reports and seated himself on the desktop.
“Envoys from Mirkwood have arrived,” he informed.
Glorfindel leaned back in his chair. “And you immediately jumped at the chance to get back to your bath one day earlier?”
“And my bed, too. You are onto me.”
“Voluptuary,” Glorfindel smirked. “You even forsook your young lover?”
“It’s a shame, I know.”
“I’m surprised he let you go.”
“Ha! He actually kicked me out, saying he had plans for the last night on patrol and that they did not include me.”
“Sounds like you’ve been married for ages,” Glorfindel chuckled. “I did not know your marital relations are that far developed already.”
“Yes, I think we can start spending our spare time separately.”
Glorfindel looked at his friend thoughtfully. “Does he know what kind of braids he wears?”
Gildor shook his head.
“You did not tell him?”
“No.”
“Why?”
“I won’t propose bonding to him unless he speaks of it himself. He is still too young for settling down. I do not want him to feel obliged to do it only because I am ready for it. I want him to make his own decision in his own time.”
“Give him an inkling at any rate that you are not against it,” Glorfindel suggested.
But Gildor shook his head again. “We’ll speak about it when he feels like doing it. I won’t bring up the issue earlier.”
Then he decided it was time to change the subject. “Well?” he looked at Glorfindel expectantly.
His friend looked back at him. “Well what?”
“Aren’t you going to ask if there is any mail for you?”
“Mail?” Glorfindel was still at a loss.
Gildor gave an exasperated sigh. “Looks like I’ll have to spell it. All right: L, E, G, O… ”
Glorfindel sat up, a broad smile spreading across his face. “*Is* there a letter for me?”
Gildor arched an eyebrow. “Did you think Legolas would miss such a wonderful opportunity to remind you that you love him? Sometimes I think that you do not know his real self at all and are in love with an image of him you’ve created to suit your tastes.”
“Naira, I know what I see and I’m old enough to recognize it for what it is. Give me the letter.”
Gildor chuckled and gave him the parchment. “And this is also for you,” he added and put the package he had been holding in his lap in front of Glorfindel.
“What is it?” Glorfindel looked at it in surprise.
“A gift, as I was told. Come on, open it.”
Glorfindel picked up a paper knife and cut the stitches on the cloth. What he took out was indeed a wooden casket. He opened the lid. The box was full with various sweetmeats. Gildor grinned, amused by Glorfindel’s confusion.
“What on Arda is this?”
“I told Legolas you have a sweet tooth.”
“I do not!” Glorfindel looked insulted.
“Yes, you do. It’s a well-known little weakness of yours.”
Suddenly Gildor burst into laughter.
“What?” Glorfindel inquired suspiciously.
“Ooooh, Mallos,” Gildor moaned, “I think… I think you are being courted.”
“What?!”
“Our prince is not one to let things drift,” Gildor laughed. “Oh, do I recognize Thranduil’s blood!”
Glorfindel smiled a little self-consciously, picked up a candied nut from the casket and chewed on it absentmindedly. Gildor knew this look: his friend was plucking up his courage to ask or to say something.
“What is it, Mallos? Spit it out.”
Glorfindel sighed and looked at him hesitantly.
“Do you think Legolas will expect fidelity from me during these fifteen years?” he asked.
Gildor stared at Glorfindel silently for several long moments, then got off the desk, drew a chair and sat down, stretching his legs in front of him.
“Tell me the truth, Mallos: do you really love him?” he inquired earnestly.
“You know I do!” Glorfindel looked affronted.
“I know nothing,” Gildor retorted, “that’s why I’m asking you again: do you *really* love him? Do you love him enough to marry him in the end?”
“Yes.”
“You do? You love him that much and you still cannot keep in check that thing in your pants?” Gildor glared at his friend indignantly.
“I know you do not approve but I’m not as ascetic as you,” Glorfindel said defensively. “I’ve always had a healthy appetite for sex.”
“That’s a mild way to put it,” Gildor remarked.
“It’s easy for you to speak: you have your lover by your side. When Legolas is mine, I won’t need anyone else. But fifteen years are a long time for a solo performance. I’m thinking about him almost constantly and the result is… rather painful.”
Gildor sighed. “To answer you question, Mallos, Legolas will be unwaveringly faithful to you and will expect no less in return. So if you plan to grace beds, other than your own, with your presence, be very discreet about it. Because if Legolas learns about it… Well, suffice it to say, in your place I wouldn’t want to upset a Mirkwood prince, not to mention the Mirkwood king. You are not in Thranduil’s good books as it is.”
“I understand,” Glorfindel nodded.
At this moment the door opened and the twins burst into the room, accompanied – as it frequently happened – by Lindir.
“We’ve heard a rumour, Glorfindel!” Elrohir exclaimed.
“This is no news,” Glorfindel replied dispassionately.
“Concerning you,” Elladan continued.
Glorfindel shrugged. “This is no news, either.”
“We’ve heard that you got a personal letter from a certain prince.”
“This is no rumour.”
“You mean you did get a letter from Legolas?” Elrohir’s eyes were sparkling with curiosity.
“Yes. And I’m sure you are dying to know what it is about.”
“Yes,” the twins confirmed in unison.
“Well… ” Glorfindel sank back in his armchair. “The prince is asking my hand in marriage.”
The twins looked at each other, then back at Glorfindel, trying to understand if it was possible that he was telling the truth.
“And what are you going to do about it?” asked Lindir, who had been watching the scene with keen interest.
“Accept, of course, what do you think?” Glorfindel replied calmly. “He is a prince after all.”
“So are we,” Elladan argued. “And he is not even a crown prince!”
“What can I say?” Glorfindel shrugged. “*You* have never proposed to me.”
“Is it too late now?” Elrohir inquired.
“I’m afraid so.”
The twins looked at each other plaintively.
“What is so wrong with us that the best catches in Imladris choose foreigners for their spouses?” Elladan lamented.
“Perhaps, they also have a thing for blonds?” Lindir offered acidly.
Elladan humphed and Elrohir heaved a dramatic sigh.
“And what are *we* left with, brother? Whom are we to marry?”
“Wait,” Elladan said, “there is another prince in Mirkwood.”
“No,” Elrohir shook his head in regret. “Arwen is sure to want him for herself.”
“Maybe he doesn’t like girls?” Elladan suggested hopefully.
“They say he takes after his father. It means he swings both ways at the least.”
“Then, even if he does marry Arwen afterwards, perhaps we could… ” Elladan arched an eyebrow at his twin suggestively.
Elrohir gave him a slow smile. “Aye, brother mine, perhaps we could… ”
Lindir, who had been listening to their argument biting his lip, finally gave voice to his indignation.
“Perhaps you could what?” he demanded.
Two pairs of identical gray eyes regarded him with identical amusement.
“I think he’s jealous,” Elladan remarked.
“Do not worry, linnonen vain,” Elrohir said soothingly. “We’ll take you along when we go to Mirkwood. I’m sure your talents will be highly appreciated by the fair Sindar.” [my beautiful singer]
Lindir gave them both a dark look, turned on his heel and marched away.
“He *is* jealous,” Elladan smirked.
“Of us or…?”
Elladan looked at his twin with sudden interest. “You think that…? Darn, Ro, you should have told me sooner. Now we’ll have to catch him before we can elicit the truth from him.”
They headed for the door when Elladan suddenly remembered his manners.
“Excuse us,” he began turning to his elders.
“Yes, yes, we know the drill,” Glorfindel waved him away. “You have an urgent business you have to attend to.”
“Exactly.” Elladan nodded gratefully and the twins were gone.
“I have a bad feeling about it all,” Gildor complained. “They are going to wreak havoc in Mirkwood and Thranduil will blame me for that. And he’ll be right.” Gildor sighed. “I think I’d better stay away from his kingdom for a century or two.”

That night, lying in his bed, Gildor felt with sudden acuteness *how* large it really was; large, empty and cold. Why had he never realized it before? He had not had any idea how lonely he had been until he was not alone any longer. It was the first night Haldir and he were spending away from each other and Gildor was missing him badly. The temptation was too strong. Gildor reached out cautiously and touched his lover’s mind gently. Haldir was asleep.
‘Sleep well, melethen,’ Gildor thought. ‘May your dreams be light.’ [my love]
His own sleep was slow to come.


The welcome Haldir received on his return in the morning was literally warm: a steaming bath was waiting for him. He spent a blissful half an hour, soaking in the scented water. But when he emerged from the bathroom, looking forward to a late breakfast tête-à-tête with his lover, he found Gildor ready to leave.
“Where are you going?” Haldir asked, disappointed.
“I have to write my patrol report,” Gildor explained apologetically. “As soon as I’m done with it, I’ll be all yours.”
“Hmm.” Haldir closed the distance between them and pulled Gildor into his arms. “What would you say if I offer to write it for you?”
Gildor tilted his head to the side. “You would do it instead of me?”
“Why are you so surprised?” Haldir chuckled. “Has no one ever done anything for you?”
Gildor pondered on the question. “No,” he said. “At least, not without asking something in exchange. So what will *you* charge for your help?”
Haldir smiled. “I want you to stay and have breakfast with me.”
“And that’s all?” Gildor asked suspiciously.
“Yes.” Haldir was all honesty.
“Well, that’s not much. I think I can agree to that. Even if I have to breakfast the second time.”
So they had their meal and then, true to his word, Haldir sat to the desk to write the report while Gildor seated himself comfortably on a sofa with a book.
“It feels good to be cherished and pampered,” he sighed contentedly. “I think I can get used to it.”
Haldir smiled at him silently. For a while all was quiet in the room and then the door burst open suddenly and a dark-haired whirlwind rushed in.
“You could have knocked,” Gildor remarked, looking up from his book.
“When do we knock?” Elladan asked in surprise.
“When indeed,” Gildor sighed.
“Besides, it doesn’t look like we’ve interrupted anything,” Elrohir shrugged.
Haldir watched with a carefully neutral expression on his face as the twins plopped down on the sofa on both sides of Gildor. Either of them sat sideways with one leg folded under himself. Elrohir rested his elbow on the back of the sofa and propped his head on his hand. Elladan leaned back against the armrest and hooked Gildor’s ankle with his foot. Haldir tensed at the familiarity of the gesture. Gildor suppressed a sigh and turned his head to look at Elladan pointedly. The elder twin arched an eyebrow in question, then rolled his eyes and let go of the Vanya’s leg.
“Ada has just told us he won’t be able to go to Mirkwood to attend prince Legolas’s majority celebration. So we shall go in his stead,” Elrohir informed Gildor cheerfully.
“Then I think I’ll stay at home, out of harm’s way,” Gildor replied archly.
“No, you cannot stay behind!” Elrohir exclaimed. “It’s going to be fun. Glorfindel will go, of course; and we are taking Lindir along with us.”
“Did he ask you to?”
The twins exchanged a gleeful glance.
“Oh no,” Elladan drawled. “The little darling is too timid to ask to be taken.”
Gildor gave him a scornful look. “Timid? Are we talking about one and the same person?”
Haldir had been trying to concentrate on his report but with all this chit-chat he could not do it, no matter how hard he tried. The twins were not doing anything especially annoying but their mere presence in the room was getting on Haldir’s nerve. He gave up his attempts at working and threw his quill on the desk.
“May I use your office, Gildor?” he asked, his voice more harsh than he intended.
Three pairs of eyes regarded him in surprise.
“Of course you may, Silfael. Why?”
“I need some quiet to finish my work.”
The company on the sofa watched in silence as Haldir took the draft of his report and left the room. Gildor followed his lover with his eyes, but he neither tried to stop him nor went after him.

Haldir looked up from his parchment as Gildor entered his office in the barracks and closed the door behind him. One of Haldir’s elegantly curved eyebrows rose in a mute question when he saw that his lover was dressed in a long robe.
“Have you finished your report?” Gildor asked.
“Yes.” Haldir pushed his chair away from the desk.
“Good.”
Gildor walked up to him unhurriedly, unfastening his belt as he went. Then, just as unhurriedly, he straddled Haldir’s thighs, placing himself comfortably in his lap. The folds of Gildor’s robe fell open and Haldir saw that his lover was wearing nothing but knee-high leather boots under his outer garment. Happily dumbfounded, Haldir stared down at the long slender legs on either side of his hips and his hands glided over the smooth skin of Gildor’s thighs of their own accord, shifting the fabric of his robe even further away. With the help of a little shrug from Gildor the slippery material slid off his shoulders and did not fall to the floor only because it got caught around his elbows. Haldir’s eyes and hands immediately took the chance to explore the opened expanses of the golden flesh.
“What kind of joke is this?” he murmured.
“It’s no joke, I’m dead serious,” Gildor breathed. “It’s been two long weeks.”
Haldir chuckled. “Straining on the leash, are we?”
He brushed Gildor’s proud erection with his knuckles. Gildor gasped.
“You are so eager, pen vaelui,” Haldir teased, though his own eyes were almost black with desire. [lustful one]
“And you aren’t?”
“No,” Haldir leaned back in his chair. “I can wait till evening and our bed.”
“Hm.” Gildor unlaced Haldir’s leggings deftly. “Liar,” he declared with satisfaction, taking Haldir’s engorged member in his hand and starting to massage it.
Haldir rested his head on the back of his chair and closed his eyes. Soon he was moaning in steadily mounting pleasure as Gildor’s skilful hands worked their miracle on him. But all of a sudden Gildor let go of Haldir’s heated flesh and stood up, adjusting and closing his robe.
“I’m afraid I have to leave now,” he sighed with mock regret.
“Leave?” Haldir stared up at him in disbelief. “*Leave?*”
“Yes, I’ve just remembered I have an urgent business. It’s lucky you can wait till evening, as I have to go… ”
“No way!” Haldir growled, shooting up.
The next moment Gildor found himself whirled around and bent over the desk with dizzying speed, the skirt of his robe pooling around his waist.
“Well, who’s eager now?” he laughed.
But his laughter changed abruptly into a breathless moan as Haldir’s hands squeezed and spread his buttocks. He heard a sharp intake of breath above him and smiled into his folded arms.
“You’ve come ready for me, pen vara,” Haldir breathed, even more aroused by the sight. [eager one]
“Spares you trouble, doesn’t it?”
Haldir did not answer. Instead he took him in one sure thrust.
“Ah, yes!” Gildor gasped. “At last… ”
Haldir braced his hands on the desk surface on both sides of Gildor’s form and started pumping in and out of the pulsing warmth of his lover’s body.
“Deeper!” Gildor commanded and gave a harsh groan as Haldir hit his pleasure gland.
“Deep enough?” Haldir panted.
“Valar, yes! Harder now… ”
“Stop… ordering me about… We aren’t… on patrol… ”
Haldir felt tension build in his loins, heralding the impending climax, but at this moment the door was suddenly opened. Erestor stopped abruptly on the threshold with his hand still on the doorknob. Haldir froze in the middle of his motion. Gildor raised his head to see what had caused the interruption. For several heartbeats all three of them were silent.
“Well?” Gildor demanded then with thinly veiled impatience in his voice. “In or out, Erestor?”
“It’s an easy guess, Captain. He is definitely in,” the advisor smirked.
Gildor scowled. “If you are here on some urgent matter, Erestor, speak out. If not – kindly get your smart arse out of my office. We are sort of busy here.”
Even in his bent position Gildor managed to preserve his arrogance. And the very awkwardness of his current stance made this usually so annoying a trait of his inexplicably attractive and even stirring in Erestor’s eyes. Erestor wished he could have a look at the Vanya from Haldir’s angle. Or perhaps, he would prefer to be in Gildor’s place... He could not decide right away. Erestor glanced up and down between Gildor and Haldir again. No, he could not say who of them looked more arousing.
“Erestor!” Gildor hissed.
The advisor gave him a lazy smile and then winked at Haldir. “I told you you’d have to lock the door yourself.”
With that he finally left. Haldir let out his breath he had been holding. He felt his arousal begin to subside. Gildor felt it too.
“No!” he exclaimed indignantly. “Don’t you dare!”
He pushed himself up on his arms, pressing back at Haldir. Haldir gasped as the tight hot confines of Gildor’s channel clenched around his sex, urging it to the hardened life again. Haldir’s hips started a rocking motion of their own volition and Gildor gave a throaty moan of approval. He arched his back and turned his head, seeking Haldir’s lips and Haldir bent his neck and captured his lover’s mouth in a long kiss.
As the searing need of their bodies grew and intensified, Haldir’s movements became more frenetic. He pushed Gildor down again and gripped his hips, driving forcefully into the welcoming body beneath him. Gildor grasped the edge of the desk, bracing himself against the power of Haldir’s thrusts. His erection was caught between his stomach and the wooden surface almost painfully hard but the friction was adding to the mind-blowing pleasure Haldir was giving him. Gildor could no longer trust himself not to cry out loud so he reached back blindly, found Haldir’s wrist and pulled his hand forward to clamp it over his mouth. The sound of Gildor’s muffled cries was the last straw for Haldir and his climax thrummed through him with the power of an explosion. As he toppled over the edge, Gildor joined him in his freefall. Haldir braced himself on his arms, riding the waves of his orgasm and smiling dazedly at Gildor’s soft moaning. Finally, when his blood stopped pounding in his ears, Haldir bent forward and kissed the back of Gildor’s neck.
“I love you,” he murmured, straightening up.
“Hm?” Gildor also rose and turned to look at his lover. “It’s good to know you do,” he said, adjusting his disarranged garment. “Then you won’t be mad with me.”
“For what?”
Gildor gave Haldir an impish smile. “I’m afraid you’ll have to rewrite your report. When you’ve done it, you’ll find me in our suite.”
And he sauntered out of the room. Haldir looked at his report, crumpled and spattered with Gildor’s seed, and sank down on the chair, half moaning half laughing.

Two weeks later the Mirkwood envoys left for home. After two more weeks Glorfindel capitulated and stopped sleeping alone.