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

Chapter 5. Of Cats And Bags.


Elladan was lying on a bench in a pergola, watching sunbeams play in the vines of clematis. September in Imladris always was as warm as summer. Elladan was lazing away his afternoon in the far end of the orchard, waiting for his twin. Elrohir was taking a lesson in healing from their father. He was good at it while Elladan had never managed to become better than average. Elladan smiled dreamily. Oh, Ro’s hands could work miracles. And he was so perceiving and so responsive, kind and giving, brave and loyal, mischievous and inventive – everything Elladan could wish for in a brother and in a lover. He knew he could never thank the Valar enough for the precious gift they had given him on the day he was born. His love for his twin washed over him like a warm wave.
‘Love you too,’ came Elrohir’s immediate response.
‘How much longer is it? I’m missing you.’
‘Not much. Do not fret.’
Elladan sighed. A sunray crept though the leaves and touched his face affectionately. Elladan sighed again and closed his eyes, breathing in apple-scented air and listening to the ever-present murmuring of water. He almost dozed off when his rest was suddenly disturbed by laughter and voices. He recognized one of them as Gildor’s. Elladan raised himself on one elbow and peeped through the vines. It was indeed Gildor who seemed to be chased by a laughing Haldir.
“Give it to me willingly,” the Galadhel demanded.
“Or what?” Gildor asked teasingly, running behind a cluster of gooseberry bushes and using it as a barrier between himself and Haldir.
“Or I’ll take much more when I catch you,” Haldir threatened.
“Your words are naught but hollow promises, Galadhel,” Gildor pronounced loftily but then, spoiling the effect, he added, “Besides, it’s ‘if’ you catch me, not ‘when’.”
And to Elladan’s utter amusement, he actually stuck his tongue out at Haldir. The chase began anew. However, by the way Gildor moved Elladan could say that he did not really try to escape. In fact, though he was putting up a good show of running away, he was doing everything to ensure he got caught in the end. No wonder that caught he was. Haldir pressed him flat against the trunk of an apple-tree and pinned his wrists on both sides of his head.
“Well? Will you keep your promise *now* and take much more?” Gildor laughed breathlessly.
“Oh yes, my sweet one,” Haldir assured him darkly. “Now I’ll take everything I want from you. And I’ll start with the kiss you owe me.”
He dipped his head and captured Gildor’s mouth with his own. Soon he let go of Gildor’s wrists as his hands started to wander down Gildor’s body. In spite of himself, Elladan admired the dexterity and practiced assurance of Haldir’s technique as the Galadhel kneeled and swiftly divested Gildor of his boots and leggings. Then he straightened up and, pushing his own trousers down just as far as necessary, poured on his rigid member the oil from a vial that had come from Elladan knew not where. He hoisted Gildor roughly up against the tree then, wrapping his legs around his own waist. Gildor grasped a branch above his head and held to it tight as Haldir started thrusting forcefully into his body. Haldir’s hands were gripping Gildor’s buttocks firmly, keeping him open and drawing him up and down.
Elladan watched them in wide-eyed shock. Haldir growled something and Gildor stopped trying to stifle his moans and cries. In a somewhat detached manner Elladan wondered what Gildor could possibly find in his Galadhel to break all the cardinal rules he had set for himself.
A double cry heralded the grand finale of the show. Haldir released Gildor’s legs, Gildor let go of the branch and they both sank down to sit on the ground, Haldir kneeling between Gildor’s spread thighs and pressing his forehead into the curve of Gildor’s neck. For some time they stayed motionless, basking in the afterglow of their climax and catching their breath. Then Gildor squirmed, reached down with his hand and took an apple from under himself. He looked at it, then around him and burst into laughter: the ground about them was scattered with fruit they had shaken off the tree by the force of their lovemaking. They put their clothes to rights and Gildor gathered the fallen apples into the folded hem of his tunic. They started back for the house, talking and laughing. Elladan watched them go through narrowed eyes.
He caught up with them at the stairs leading to the side entrance to the main house. Haldir was speaking with one of his fellow-guards and Gildor was leaning against the banister a short way ahead, waiting for him. When Elladan came up to him, Gildor smiled.
“El, would you like an apple?”
“Yes, if you give me the one you sat upon,” Elladan answered in a low voice so that only Gildor could hear him.
The Vanya stared at him silently for a moment, his eyes dark and unreadable.
“I hope you enjoyed it as much as we did,” he said at last.
“You submit!” Elladan hissed at him accusingly.
Gildor’s eyes glazed over, becoming cold and hard. His face was deceptively void of emotion but a faint twitch at the corner of his mouth hinted at the fact that he was not so placid under the surface.
“This is your business – how?” he asked, keeping tight control over his voice. “I do not see why you should be concerned with what I do between the sheets or - against a tree. So do not bother to voice your approval or disapproval to me in the future.”
He turned and walked up the stairs. Elladan stared at his back, shaken. Gildor had never spoken to him in such a cold and disdainful way and that sort of look had never been turned on *him*. Gildor’s words stung Elladan painfully. He blinked several times. His face felt hot as if it had been slapped. He stood rooted to the ground and Haldir gave him a surprised glance when he had to walk around him on his way up to the door.
When Haldir caught up with Gildor, he saw that his lover was wearing his Ice Blade expression.
“What happened?” Haldir asked, worried.
“Nothing.” Gildor’s voice was calm but a downward curve of his lips and a furrow between his brows were proof enough that he was not telling the truth.
Haldir cursed Elladan silently and decided not to press Gildor for answers at the moment.

Gildor was brooding for the rest of the day. He could not understand why the little incident with Elladan had hurt him so much, why he was that much upset by Elladan’s attitude.
It was true that he had never submitted to anyone in bed before. As it was also true that his long life had taught him it was safer to be always in control. As a result, he was used to being imperious and unconsciously tended to take charge of any situation. He was well aware that to let somebody dominate him meant to put himself in a very vulnerable position. He had always known he would be able to do it only with someone he would love. He loved Haldir, so he gave himself to him willingly. Oh yes, he would have been quite happy to conform to his own dominant ways and to claim Haldir the first time they had made love. But he had seen a hint of fear in the young elf’s eyes and decided he could wait till Haldir felt more comfortable about it and would want it himself.
It all made sense to him. So why did then Elladan’s remark sound to him like an insult? And why was he cut to the quick by it?
Haldir tried to approach him with questions several times but Gildor was less than sociable, and Haldir let him be in the end, feeling rather miffed that Gildor would not confide his troubles to him.
Though they went to the Hall of Fire to spend their evening with other elves, Gildor refused to take part in the revelry. Haldir finally gave up his futile attempts to lure his lover out of his shell and went to dance away his frustration, leaving Gildor to his own thoughts. Gildor was aware that he was behaving foolishly, brooding in a dark corner. But try as he would, he could not get to the root of his dark mood and it vexed him to no end. At last, he rose quietly and slipped out of the Hall into the garden. He found a bench beyond the range of the light, streaming from the windows, and sat down facing away from the house.
Elladan had watched Gildor from afar but had not dared come closer. When he saw him go out, he turned to his brother.
“I must go and speak to him,” he said.
“Do you want me to go with you?” Elrohir asked.
But Elladan shook his head. “No. I’ll do it myself.”
Haldir saw first Gildor, then Elladan leave through the side door but he could not follow them at once, as he could not abandon his partner in the middle of a dance.
Elladan found Gildor in the garden, kneeled in front of him silently and put his head into his lap.
“I’m sorry,” he said in a muffled voice. “Forgive me. I’m sorry.”
Gildor neither moved nor spoke.
“I… I think I was jealous,” Elladan confessed unhappily. “He is not worthy of you!”
Gildor sighed. “Do you know somebody who is?”
“Thranduil?” Elladan offered tentatively.
“Because he cannot bond with me, lives far away and does not claim much of my time?”
Elladan kept silent.
“Look at me, pen neth,” Gildor asked. [young one]
The younger elf raised his head reluctantly.
“Can you imagine your life without Elrohir?”
Elladan’s eyes filled with horror: just thinking of it made him feel hollow and cold inside. “No!”
“You are blessed, pen neth, you did not have to search for your soul mate. You have never been alone.” Gildor cupped Elladan’s cheek with his hand. “Do you wish me to remain lonely till the end of the world?”
“No.” Elladan put his hand on top of Gildor’s. “I want you to be happy.”
“Then do not grudge me my chance at it.”
Elladan brought Gildor’s palm to his lips and kissed it lightly. “It’s just that you are letting him too close to you… I’m afraid he can hurt you.”
Gildor pulled his hand out of Elladan’s fingers and stroked his dark hair. “To love someone means to render oneself vulnerable. I think I’ll take the risk.”
Elladan looked deep into Gildor’s eyes.
“You truly love him then, don’t you?” he asked quietly.
“Aye, I do,” Gildor nodded.
“I hope he knows how lucky he is,” Elladan sighed.
They heard footsteps.
“Speak of the Galadhel!” Elladan smirked. “I guess now I’ll have to surrender my place at your feet to the Lórien usurper. But when he breaks your heart, don’t come running to me, Gildor Inglorion, for you have refused the eternal bliss of my arms, of my and Ro’s arms, that is.”
“For the Valar’s sake, El, not so loud!” Gildor hissed.
Elladan rolled his eyes. “Oh, forgive me! I forgot you cannot afford this sort of joke now.”
“Get lost, El,” Gildor ordered.
“As you wish.” Elladan rose to his feet. “Unfortunately, there is no back door here through which I could escape before your lover sees me.”
“Just leave!”
Elladan laughed and walked away. As he passed Haldir, he gave him a look of what Haldir thought he could qualify as grudging acceptance.
“I take it you’ve sorted out whatever transpired between you earlier today?” Haldir asked, sitting down on the bench next to Gildor.
“Yes.”
“Do you feel better now?”
“Yes, in a way.” Gildor still could not understand his own painful reaction to the whole business.
“Do you want to tell me about it?”
“No.”
“Fine.” Haldir let his resentment show. He rose from the bench. “Will you come to the Hall now?”
Gildor rose as well. “Yes. Will you dance with me?”
“I’m afraid all my dances are booked,” Haldir told him archly. “Cannot you dance with Elrohir instead?”
“Haldir, please, don’t,” Gildor begged quietly.
Haldir sighed and pulled him into his arms, pressing his cheek to Gildor’s temple.
“Are you still mine?” he asked.
“Of course I am.” Gildor wrapped his arms around his lover’s waist. “And you? Are *you* mine?”
“Always.”
They walked to the house, hand in hand, but both of them could not help feeling a lingering bitter aftertaste.

The twins left for Lórien to deliver their father’s missive and to visit their grandparents and sister. They came back soon, in about a month, and brought a Man with them. He greeted the Lord of Imladris as an old acquaintance and Haldir saw that when Elrond welcomed him, it was with respect. Then the stranger turned to Gildor.
“I’ve heard you are getting married, Elf,” he smirked. “And I remember you saying you are not a marrying man.”
“Your memory fails you, Dúnadan,” Gildor replied just as archly. “I would never say I’m a *man*. I’m of the Eldar!”
“Arrogant as ever, I see,” the Man remarked. “So, some clever girl has finally managed to hook you?”
Gildor shook his head. “You know where my preferences lie.”
“Aye, and it’s a real shame. You should marry and have sons.”
Gildor laughed. “I’m grateful to you for your concern but I prefer my life the way it is.” Then he turned to Haldir. “Haldir, this is Arassuil, Chieftain of the Dúnedain.”
Dark shrewd eyes regarded the Galadhel for several moments.
“‘Tis not a girl then. Yet again.”
Gildor was amused, Haldir was not.
When the Dúnadan followed Elrond into the house, Gildor looked at his lover.
“Well, Silfael, that was a mortal. What’s your impression?”
“I do not think I want to see dwarves,” Haldir said gloomily.
“There, there!” Gildor chuckled. “Arassuil is not that bad. He just does not approve of some of our ways, that is all.”
“Did you really say you are not a marrying man?”
“No, I said I’m not of a marrying type.”
“Oh, that makes all the difference, of course.”
Gildor laughed. “Let’s go inside,” he said then, “and hear the news Arassuil and the twins have brought.”
As Haldir followed Gildor into the house, he wondered if he had any chance to change Gildor’s views on matrimony.

It happened on the second day after the twins’ return. Haldir was about to leave the room to join Gildor on the training grounds when the door suddenly burst open and hit the wall with a bang. Gildor marched into the room and Haldir stared, for he had seen the Vanya in a state of such fury only once. The memories of that encounter still made him wince. Gildor’s face was pale and his eyes were blazing with dark flame.
“What is wrong?” Haldir asked with trepidation.
“Everything!” Gildor was practically spitting fire.
“What happened?”
Haldir made a step forward but Gildor raised his hand in warning. “Stay away from me!”
“Gildor?”
“So it was only a bet, was it?”
Haldir felt utterly perplexed. “What are you talking about? What bet?”
“The one you made on me!”
“What?!”
“With your tunic as a prize for the winner!”
Haldir was still feeling exasperatingly at a loss. “For Valar’s sake, Gildor! What tunic?”
“This one!”
Gildor hurled at him the bundle of silk he had been holding in his hand. Haldir caught it in the air and when he saw what it was, he finally was able to understand everything. It was his dark blue tunic Gildor had ruined by cutting it off him under the broken oak; the tunic Rúmil had been so envious of. But now the garment was whole and intact.
“How did you… ” Haldir began in wonder but then he suddenly realized that there was another “how” that was more urgent. “How did you find out?”
Gildor gave him a bitter smile that looked more like a baring of teeth.
“I was told by a person, whose information I trust because it’s always correct.”
“Gildor, please, let me explain!”
Haldir once again tried to approach the Vanya, but once again was stopped by him.
“Don’t come near me!” Gildor was shaking with pent-up rage. “For right now I want to hurt you. Badly.”
”It’s not what you think! I can explain everything!”
But Gildor ignored his plea and walked out of the room, slamming the door behind him.
“Damn!” Haldir kicked the nearby chair and sent it crashing into the wall.
Who could have thought that his silly brag would rebound on him one day? Curse Rúmil’s loose tongue! No one but he could have leaked the information. Haldir thought he would kill his brother next time he met him. But first Haldir had to sort out things with Gildor and to make up with him.
He found Gildor on the training grounds. Judging by the look on the guards’ faces, they were already aware of their Captain’s current state of mind. Gildor was sparring with Sadron and the young elf was having a hard time. Suddenly Sadron cried out and dropped his sword, clutching at his dislocated wrist, pain and confusion mixed in his eyes. Glorfindel, who had been watching them for some time with growing anxiety, swiftly stepped in between them.
“What do you think you are doing?” he hissed at Gildor. Then he turned to Sadron. “Go and see a healer.”
But the guard did not move, waiting for his Captain to confirm the order.
Gildor nodded. “Go, Sadron. I’m sorry.”
As the young elf headed for the House of Healing, Glorfindel once again looked at his friend.
“What is wrong with you, Naira? You are supposed to train your soldiers, not to cripple them.”
Gildor did not answer but Glorfindel could feel his fury pulse off him in tangible waves. Haldir took a deep breath and came up to them.
“If you need to vent your rage on someone, vent it on me,” he told Gildor. “It’s my fault; why should others pay for it?”
Gildor’s eyes narrowed and he motioned with his sword for Haldir to take position for fighting.
“So it has already begun,” Glorfindel sighed.
He dismissed Gildor’s patrol and the elves obeyed reluctantly, throwing perplexed and worried looks over their shoulders.
“Usually lovers’ tiffs end up in kisses,” Glorfindel said. “I do hope yours won’t be an exception.”
And he left as well. Haldir did not think, though, that Gildor heard the kind wish. The Vanya was looking at him with absolutely no expression at all on his face, and Haldir knew by now that such a pronounced lack of emotion in Gildor’s case meant there was more than anger present - there was hurt. The Galadhel hoped that now, as he held Gildor’s attention, he would be able to talk to him, to explain things. But very quickly he found that he was unlikely to have a chance for talking.
He was stunned, even shocked to realize that Gildor had been easy on him during all the sparring matches they had had. Now, though, the Vanya was not sparing him and Haldir was having a tough time, blocking and parrying his thrusts and blows. Gildor’s sword seemed to be everywhere at the same time and Haldir had to use all his skill and speed to fend it off. Taking the initiative or trying to disarm Gildor was out of the question. Haldir had a sudden sinking feeling at the thought that Gildor could actually kill him if he chose to; he was no match for Gildor. How easily he had forgotten what an ancient creature he had fallen in love with! And Gildor *let* him forget it. He gave himself to Haldir, changed his ways for him, perhaps he even loved him. Haldir was not going to lose him because of some stupid misunderstanding!
However, it was easier said than done. Haldir was growing more and more desperate as their duel lengthened out and Gildor showed no signs of relenting.
“Gildor, please, let’s talk!” Haldir pleaded between Gildor’s blows.
He was instantly punished for the loss of focus as his sword was knocked from his hand.
“Pick it up,” Gildor ordered flatly.
“No.”
Haldir made a step forward and immediately the sharp point of Gildor’s sword touched his bare chest.
“Pick it up!”
“No! I do not want to fight you. Let me explain everything.”
“I don’t want to listen to you!” Gildor hissed at him. “You lied to me!”
“I did not!” Haldir argued fervently.
He once again tried to move forward but the tip of Gildor’s deadly weapon bit into his skin in warning.
“Stay where you are,” Gildor commanded darkly.
Haldir exhaled in desperation.
“If the sight of my blood can appease you, I’m ready to oblige,” he said and made another step forward, pressing on Gildor’s sword. Instinctively, Gildor took a step back. But Haldir did not stop and made him move backwards until the Vanya finally lowered his weapon. Haldir did not attempt to touch him; he merely preserved their eye contact.
“I admit that I offered Rúmil a bet, but it happened on the first day I saw you. I could not know then that I would fall in love with you. Do you think I would have followed you to Imladris, leaving everything behind, for the sake of some stupid bet, which I lost long ago anyway? Do you think I lie every time I say I love you? Please, glinn-e-guren, believe me, I do not make such declarations easily. Actually, I have never said these words to anyone before. I have never truly loved anyone. But I do love *you*, Gildor! I love you… ” [song of my heart]
Gildor stared at Haldir silently for several moments, his expression neutral and unreadable. Then he turned and started walking away. Haldir watched him go, defeated.
“Gildor!” he called after him suddenly. “Who told you about the bet? Was it Elladan?”
Gildor stopped and looked at Haldir with dark, unfathomable eyes.
“Oh no, Silfael, it was not Elladan. It was your friend Erestor.”
With that he left.

Haldir walked into the library still bare to his waist and with a sword in his hand. When Erestor saw his face, one of his dark eyebrows rose in surprise.
“Why did you do it?” Haldir asked without a preamble. “I thought you were my friend.”
Erestor did not try to pretend he did not understand what Haldir was referring to. He leaned back in his chair.
“You may fail to realize it at the moment, but I *am* being your friend. And I’ve acted out of good motives.” He ignored Haldir’s sarcastic look. “I know you’ll be angry to hear it, but you do not belong together. You are like water and oil that won’t mix, no matter how hard one tries to do it. You think you love him. Perhaps, you really do, at any rate you honestly believe in it. But are you sure *he* truly loves *you*, even if he says so?” Erestor saw the expression on Haldir’s face and chuckled. “So he voiced no sentiments then? I see… At least, he doesn’t want to stoop to an outright lie. You think he loves you because he lets you dominate him, but if you think it over carefully you’ll see that it is he who dominates in your relationship. You do exactly what he wants you to do without even suspecting that you are being manipulated. He is always in control even if you are on top. It’s in his nature. He cannot and will not change it. For your own sake I hope you’ll be content to play second fiddle because it’s how it will be. He will always be the better of you: he is much more seasoned as a warrior and – forgive me, Haldir – much more experienced as a lover. He’s seen things you’ll never see and do not forget – he is a Vanyarin Prince.”
Erestor’s words had a familiar ring to them. Haldir felt an uneasy feeling stir in his heart.
“He can have anyone he wants without resorting to such a trite device as a pretence of love,” the advisor continued. “I really do not see why he had to do it this time.”
Haldir raised his chin. “Perhaps because this time it is not just a pretence.”
“Well, you can believe whatever you choose. If you prefer to remain in the dark, I won’t be the one to drag you out of it forcefully. But if one day you do see the light, remember that my door is always open to you.”
“Your door or your bed?”
Erestor shrugged. “That too. At any rate I do not try to hide my motives under pretty wraps.”
“I do no believe, Erestor, you know what love is and I do not think I’ll ever take you up on your offer. I’ve had enough of that before. This is not what I want now. Gildor and I love each other. I trust you are wise enough not to attempt to come between us again.”

When Haldir entered their suite, it was quiet and empty. He walked through the front chamber into the bedroom. It was empty as well. Then he heard soft slurping of water and opened the door to the bathroom. It was hot and damp inside. Mirrors were fogged with the steam rising from the bath. Gildor was soaking in the water, his damp hair sticking to his shoulders and to his arms lying, relaxed, on the rim of the tub. He watched Haldir as the Galadhel approached him. Haldir sat down on the floor by the bath and wrapped his arms around his bent knee. They looked at each other silently for some time, then Haldir sighed and stroked Gildor’s hand.
“I’m sorry, melethen. [my love] I did not want to hurt or insult you. I do love you so much… Do you believe me?”
Gildor nodded, still not speaking. Haldir took Gildor’s hand and pressed it to his cheek.
“How come my tunic is whole again when I distinctly remember the heap of shreds it became?”
“It’s a new one.”
“Did you have it made for me?”
A hint of a smile touched Gildor’s lips. “Yes. You looked good in it.”
Haldir shifted his position so that he could lean over the edge of the bath to kiss Gildor.
“Thank you.”
Gildor tilted his head back, baring his throat in silent invitation for Haldir’s lips. As Haldir gratefully trailed kissed down the slender column, it occurred to him that he was once again doing what Gildor wanted him to do…