Oathbound, Heartbroken *COMPLETE*

Title: Oathbound, Heartbroken 7/?
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 7


Haldir grinned at the elf by his side as they ascended the winding staircase to his brother’s talan. It had been but a month since that first encounter with Melpomaen upon the border and but two weeks since their first kiss, and Haldir knew that they had been the most wonderful two weeks of his life. This elf - *his* elf, his ‘Maen - had filled that aching gap in his heart to the point that Haldir felt as if he would fade from grief if he were ever to lose Melpomaen. Their courtship was still slow, still restrained to kisses and embraces but those kisses had deepened and the embraces had become firmer, and holding ‘Maen in love had been a very emotional moment for the Marchwarden.

Their courtship had not gone unnoticed but after a few sharp words from the stern warrior, any bawdy comments had ceased. Now they were looked upon with affection and, from Haldir’s former bedmates, no little jealousy. Both Doron and Meliuwen had taken to Melpomaen and the two ellyn were often guests in their homes. As affectionate with his niece and nephew as ever, Haldir was delighted when the elflings fell upon ‘Maen as another uncle and tickles and screams of laughter rang out when they played with the children. Glorfindel too had approved of their relationship but his approval had been laced with warning.

“My friend you are, Haldir. But if you ever hurt Mel, you will find me an implacable enemy,” the golden lord had told Haldir firmly. Haldir had striven to reassure him of his good intentions, but in honesty he could only offer hope to the Elda.

“This - kind of love - is new to me,” Haldir had acknowledged. “I love ‘Maen and have no wish to hurt him. However there are - issues - for me to work through before our love can attain a new level. I have told ‘Maen that this courtship must be slow. I only hope that he can be patient with me. I love him, Glorfindel. I never *want* to hurt him.”

Glorfindel had nodded in agreement. “Very well. Just - be honest with him, meldir. His love is infinite. Trust Mel and he will carry you through.”

Haldir had bowed in appreciation, but in his heart he knew that he had lied to Glorfindel, even as he had withheld the whole truth from his scribe. Melpomaen knew of his reservations, of his lack of experience - of his ‘issues’- but not of their true nature. He did not know that Haldir was finding it difficult even to think of them, or that he had no great confidence that they could be resolved completely. And Haldir had not told him of the oath - that damnable, inconvenient oath that Haldir was trying so hard to bury in the depths of his mind.

Still their time together had been taken with joy. They were in each other’s company as often as possible, both through their tasks in the library, as companions at mealtimes and in their evening entertainment. As well as visiting with Doron and Meluiwen, they walked the city under the twinkling lights, had attended concerts and had dined in the many restaurants the city had to offer. They had swum in their quiet pool, although through unspoken agreement they had retained their loincloths to guard against embarrassing reactions for which Haldir was not yet ready. Each conversation had brought forth more of their past, exposing it to the present so that they could incorporate it into their future. Haldir had spoken at length of his parents, not realising that Melpomaen had become aware very quickly of his devotion to his father. Melpomaen had told Haldir of his early lovers and his decision then to await his soulmate in renewed celibacy.

“It will mean so much more when we are finally intimate, meleth nín,” The young elf had said, and his hand had reached out to grasp Haldir’s, his chocolate brown eyes shining with unconcealed love. Haldir had clasped the small hand tightly, not trusting himself to speak.

Then there had been the encounter with the Lady. Haldir had escorted Melpomaen to his talan one night, and their farewells had been long and loving. Floating on this newfound bliss Haldir had been en route to his own home when he came upon Galadriel. That this was a purposeful encounter he had no doubt, for the Lady did nothing without intention. Bowing in reverence to her, he had fallen in beside Galadriel when she indicated that she wished to walk as they conversed.

“My lord is most pleased with the progress that you and Lord Glorfindel have been making in your studies. You have worked hard and well, Haldir Celegonion,” she had said in her gentle tones. Haldir had murmured his pleasure at this praise, and the golden elleth had bent her head in acknowledgement.

“I know that you were reluctant to take up this task, my dearest Marchwarden. Your life, your heart were under threat, but that ‘threat’ has become dear to your heart, has he not?”

Haldir had blushed, much surprised that Galadriel had approached him in this matter. His relationship with the rulers of Lothlórien had always been close, yet he had never crossed the boundary into familiarity. That she spoke thus was therefore of great concern to him.

“Melpomaen is indeed dear to me, my lady,” he had replied with caution. She had turned to him then, stopping in the middle of the deserted path and he found himself staring into depthless eyes of ancient blue, lit from within by the stars of wisdom and truth.

“Yet your heart is bound by restrictions that you do not understand, and words that should never have been spoken. At this moment your heart is not your own, and you have *no right* to give it to him.”

The words were spoken with such stern admonition that Haldir had staggered back aghast. How could she -? When did she -? The questions were useless, for she was the Lady. Of course she knew. Galadriel, daughter of Finarfin held Nenya, the Ring of Adamant; she had the power to see into the hearts of her subjects and none could defy her. She knew all - all of his past, all of his misspent passion, all of his years of pain. All the things that he was trying so hard to deny. And now she was accusing him of breaking his oath!

Galadriel had seen the shock within him and had reached out a hand in reassurance.

“They are not insurmountable, these restrictions. First though, you must understand them, admit them and overcome the past before your release from history misspoken can be obtained. To achieve your heart’s desire you must first confront your pain - or face the inevitable loss of your love. Can you do that, Haldir? Can you admit the misfortune of your mistake so long ago? I would have you come to my glade so that I may help you.”

The offer was there before him and Haldir did not now know why he had not taken that opportunity. Some called him stubborn, unbending or arrogant. Perhaps so - or perhaps he had locked the incident so tight within his psyche that he feared its release. Whichever, he had queried and had not accepted the offer.

“Is that an order, my lady?” he had asked stiffly. Mournful resignation came over Galadriel’s face as she recognised the implied refusal. She shook her head slowly.

“An invitation only, my stubborn warrior,” she had said softly and Haldir had looked away, unable to face the gentle reproach in her eyes. “I urge you to think much upon this offer, Haldir. Your will is strong but is it resilient enough to withstand the physical pain that *will* occur if you are to truly join yourself to Melpomaen? Fighting orcs takes one kind of bravery - fighting your own subconscious needs much more courage, Haldir of Lórien.”

She had lifted her hand to his cheek, had turned his head so that she could gaze into the stricken blue eyes.

“The more you delay the greater the sorrow will be, for if you fail in your attempt you will have torn Melpomaen’s heart as well as your own. I will await you in my glade tonight, if you will come.”

Haldir had nodded, but they both knew that this step had to be taken at his own volition.

He had not taken that step to the glade that night.

And now he travelled beside his ‘Maen and he wondered at his refusal to take the Lady’s help - and prayed that his love for the little elf would suffice instead….

****

"So they do not know about us, Haldir?"

Melpomaen looked anxiously at his beloved, seeing that he had startled him from some deep reflection. Alerted to the question Haldir smiled down at his beautiful scribe, his ice-blue eyes gazing lovingly into Melpomaen's chocolate brown.

"I said naught when I met them on their re-entry into the city, save that Meluiwen had planned a celebratory meal for their return. Meli will say nothing, nor Doron, I want to see their faces glow with happiness when they see you, my love. As mine did when you first kissed me."

Melpomaen blushed at the endearment and he pulled Haldir's arm around his waist, burrowing into that firm embrace in his desire to be near this most glorious ellon.

"Do you think that they will approve of me?" he asked hesitantly. Haldir laughed, a loud and joyous guffaw.

"They will think you a gift from the Valar, pen vuin! And Orophin already had high hopes for our love, 'Maen. It was because of you that he nearly ended up with a broken jaw - but I hope that he will have forgiven me our confrontation by now. Certainly he will, when he sees you so close to my side."

Melpomaen's eyes widened at this, then he too laughed for Haldir had told him something of that incident, and he had a fondness in his heart for the brother who had championed him. He leaned closer into Haldir's embrace, if possible; so happy with the elf he had come to love so dearly. Still, within Melpomaen's heart he felt some unease. Their courtship had been slow, and any forward motion either in increasing the pace of their relationship or the depth of their physical contact had been gently yet firmly stalled by Haldir. He knew that Haldir had many reservations and that he was withholding a part of himself in some hidden place. All the scribe could do at the moment was to continue to show his love for the Silvan elf until Haldir felt ready to progress. It meant many late hours relieving himself of his frustrations, though.

They had now reached the level of Rúmil and Meluiwen's home and from within they could hear the excited chatter of the children mixed with the less animated, yet still active conversation of the adults. Over them all came the voice of Haldir's youngest brother as he called to his daughter.

"Pen neth, do you want me to help you set the table for dinner?"

The reply came as a fiercely independent negative.

"Nay, Ada. It is *my* special job ," the little girl said in her childish tones. Melpomaen smiled upon hearing her, for the little one had become dear to him on his visits with Haldir's family.

"But Tólaes, sweetheart - you have set too many places. See, there is one too many for our family."

The small voice became tremulous in Tólaes' anxiety to fulfill her role correctly.

"Ada, I *am* right. Look! There are places for you an' Naneth; for me an' Alagion; those are for Uncles Oro and Doron; an' *those* are for Uncle Haldir an' Uncle 'Maen!"

There was a moment's silence then the sound of a small hand slapping against an open mouth.

"Oops! I wasn't supposed to tell!"

There were immediate cries from the warrior brothers as their spouses could be heard venting their suppressed laughter.

"Doron! Who is this 'Maen?"

"Meli - is it true?"

Melpomaen could hardly stifle his own laughter as Haldir pushed the door open, his generous mouth grinning widely. Together they stepped into the room and into a sudden silence as the wardens recognised the little elf by Haldir's side. Orophin was the one who broke the halted moment of time, crossing the floor quickly to grab at his elder brother. His eyes were suspiciously moist as he hugged first Haldir then Melpomaen, the expression on his face one of unqualified delight. Rúmil followed, as did the inevitable questions.

"When on Arda did you two get together?"

"Haldir, you sly dog…!"

"Melpomaen, how did you seduce this idiot to see the joy that you could bring him?"

"Ai, Oro, I don't think that we should be asking questions of *that* nature with elflings present!"

The brothers quickly forgave their spouses for this happy deception and Melpomaen and Haldir were welcomed at the festive table with much pomp and flourish. In their uninhibited way the brothers requested a full account of this miraculous love affair, although it was Orophin who was the most persistent in his questioning.

"Melpomaen, you do not know how delighted we are to see that you have captured Haldir's heart. I wish you the greatest happiness, and I bow to your obviously iron-clad nerve at taming our pig-headed but beloved brother!"

Melpomaen felt Haldir bristle at the overly enthusiastic words, and gently squeezed his hand under the table. He felt the warden reciprocate the gesture and Melpomaen saw the release of tension in his muscular frame. The scribe tried to focus once more upon the banter of the two brothers. Looking about the table he saw that Doron was siding with his husband but from the slight movement of
Rúmil away from his wife and his occasional wince, Melpomaen surmised that Meliuwen was silently chastising her husband by sharp but discreet kicks to his shins.

Melpomaen smiled when his gaze settled on the two children. Alagion was pointedly concentrating on his food, for he was at that age where romance was a foreign and somewhat distasteful concept, and he was obviously disgusted that adults would 'behave that way' in front of him. Little Tólaes sat in wide-eyed amazement as she neglected her food, her head instead moving in turn to each of the 'grown-ups' in their mystifying delight in Uncle Haldir's new friend. When her eyes finally fell on Melpomaen she gave a shy smile, her sweet eyes suddenly shaded in embarrassment by her golden lashes. The shyness was momentary, then she slid out of her chair without permission to run around the table to where Melpomaen sat. He opened his arms to her, sweeping her into his grasp before lifting her to sit upon his lap. Contented, she tucked her thumb into her mouth as she snuggled against him and once again Melpomaen wondered if his appeal to children was due to the fact that he was closer to their size than most adults. Across the table Meluiwen had seen her daughter's action and had cried out in protest.

" Tólaes! What *are* you doing?"

Melpomaen laughed as the little girl stared worriedly at her mother, and he interceded immediately.

"Ai, Meli! Please, do not remonstrate with her. I love children, and this little one has sneaked her way into my heart." He looked fondly down at the little elleth, and then a mischievous glint came into his eye. "Indeed, she looks good enough to eat - and I think that I will!"

Tólaes' shrill scream of delight heralded a laughter-filled bout when Melpomaen made diving attempts to nibble her as she squealed and wriggled in a playful attempt to get away. Even Alagion joined in the merriment and Melpomaen's happy face turned to his love - only to be met with a white face, stricken with wide-eyed dismay. The scribe's laughter began to fade but the Marchwarden suddenly blinked and as if on cue added his own laughter to the general outcry. No other noticed, but Melpomaen felt a chill in his heart as he realised that the laughter was hollow, and the sentiment false.

The wriggling child in his arms distracted him once more and the moment passed un-remarked save in Melpomaen's heart. The toll of a busy day and a long evening meal soon told upon the elflings and Meluiwen took the children off to bed after a prolonged round of 'Goodnight!'. Rúmil smiled in thanks at his wife for this was usually his welcome chore but Meluiwen knew that her husband would prefer to stay with his brothers on this, his first night home after patrol.

The wines and ales had flowed and although the elvish constitution was resilient, all the ellyn were beyond the limits of what they would normally drink. It was as Haldir lifted yet another goblet of wine that Rúmil chortled at him.

"Ai, look at the lofty Marchwarden! No common ales for Haldir for he does not deign to let such a trite beverage pass his tender lips!"

Haldir smirked and lifted the goblet in salute to his youngest brother.

"Truly spoken, tôren, for why sully my refined tongue with the sharpness of hops when the rich grape is smoother, and carries the flavour of the summer sun - or the crispest frost of the ice-wines of Rivendell." He turned to his Melpomaen and pressed a soft kiss to his beloved's lips. "Though indeed, the finest vintage and the sweetest fruit is now here, in my arms."

Melpomaen felt his heart swell at the endearments and pressed himself further into the kiss. He knew that this was real, and true, and deep. Still, he felt as if the beautiful words that had flowed from Haldir were not only to compliment him but to ease some ache in Haldir's heart too. Whatever the reason, the sweethearts ignored the delighted whoops of the other three elves.

"Ai, 'Maen," yelped Doron. "For Haldir to become so dripping in gooey sentiment so openly must mean that he is deeper in his cups than we supposed. I fear that you may need to carry the drunken sot to your bed tonight!"

The laughter resounded as Haldir made futile protests at this smear on his character and his ability to hold his drink, and Melpomaen tried to dismiss Doron's offer of help - though he dearly wished that Haldir *was* indeed resident between the covers of his bed. The laughter was hushed as Meliuiwen came out of the children's rooms, gesturing her displeasure at the raucous noise as she frantically signalled for them to quieten. It did not stop Orophin continuing with his dissection of Haldir's drinking habits.

"Well *I* remember a time when Haldir drank ale - aye *and* I wager that I know the reason that he turned away from beers."

Rúmil frowned. "Really? I cannot remember such a time."

Orophin waved away Rúmil's comment, smug in his own recollections.

"It was before both of our Majorities, and just after Haldir's. Do you not remember, tôren?" he asked his elder brother, but then he continued blithely on without waiting for Haldir's affirmation. "I think it was when you had just joined the Galadhrim - ai, it may even have been your initiation night! I remember that I woke to the sound of raised voices - Father's, principally. Aye, that was it."

Even as Orophin gestured and gesticulated Melpomaen felt Haldir freeze beside him. Looking up he saw that his beloved had placed a blank mask upon his face, and that Haldir was faking a look of unconcern. Yet glancing down at the large hands Melpomaen saw that they were tight-clenched and that their knuckles were white with strain. Alarmed, Melpomaen glanced around the room to see if any others had noticed Haldir's discomfort. Rúmil's was concentrated on his brother's tale as was Meluiwen, but Doron was observing Haldir, and Melpomaen could see that he too had noted Haldir's reaction. The sharp eyes of the librarian flickered to those of the little scribe and by only the barest of nods did the librarian indicated his appreciation of the need for discretion. Doron leaned slowly back in his chair, interrupting Orophin's recollections.

"Oh come, melethron. We have all done something foolish in our time. You are embarrassing Haldir in front of 'Maen. Give it up, else I will go forth and retrieve from our talan all those baby toys of yours which *still* adorn our bed!"

Melpomaen laughed at this, both to punctuate Doron's laconic speech and to show his thanks for the librarian's intervention. The thanks were wasted for Orophin did not cease.

"I opened the door to my room and realised that both Naneth and Adar were awake, and then I heard the most awful retching. By the Valar Haldir, I don't know what they poured into you that night but the bucket that Nana had placed by your head was full and stank most vilely. You hair was falling forward and I could not see your face, and the strands looked like rat's tails hanging over the side of the couch as you puked up your guts. And your clothes! Stained everywhere with ale and wine - they must have poured the red wine over you, for you had stains upon your tunic, all down your leggings and even the seat of your pants! I wager that you were not the only recruit that the patrols got soaked that night, for Ada was ranting against both them and that friend of yours - oh, what was his name? Rúmil, what was Haldir's friend called? The one to whom he seemed joined at the hip?"

Rúmil shrugged. "I think that I remember an ellon of Haldir's age, but I do not remember his name."

Orophin would not be deterred and he was as a dog relentlessly gnawing a bone to get at the marrow. He ceaselessly muttered a series of names in the hope of hitting upon the right one.

"Varnir? No - Pelgagen! Ai no, Thangar…?"

"Thalaglar. His name was Thalaglar."

Melpoman started, for the voice that issued from the Marchwarden's lips was normal and controlled in its volume and tone. He would have thought that the muscles of the neck were clenched so tight, the sinews stood so prominent that any words would have been choked before they passed the vocal chords. Now Haldir rested back in his chair and drank in one swallow the large serving of red wine that he had been cradling. Not a drop was spilt yet Melpomaen had to blink back his horrified surprise at a vision of blood-red stains upon the tips of the warrior's fingers. It was but a vision, yet still he saw a terrible tremor in those stiff digits as they clasped firm upon the drinking vessel.

"Thalaglar!" Orophin was exclaiming, spilling his own drink in his excitement. "*That* was his name! The two of you were never apart. It was as if you were bound with sap resin glue." He paused, scratching his head in drunken bemusement. "I wonder what happened to him."

Haldir lurched slightly, quickly disguised as a shift in his chair and in that moment Doron got up and crossed the room to his husband. Hitching his arm under Orophin's, he hauled him to his feet.

"I do not know, my brave Galadhel, but I *do* know that you will have a very fierce head upon your shoulders come the morn. It is time we went and left Rúmil and Meluiwen to their own personal celebration. Say goodnight, Orophin."

The warden snickered, his delight in being fed this delicious line obviously too much to bear. He dutifully obeyed his husband, cackling as he did so.

" 'Goodnight, Orophin' !"

With an exaggerated sigh Doron dragged the stumbling warrior out of the door even as Melpomaen stood to make his own farewells.

"Maer daw, my friends, and I thank you for your hospitality." He stretched out his hand to Haldir who was still seated, staring blindly at the now-empty goblet in his hand. "Haldir?"

Haldir looked up with a start, obviously deep in thought for he looked at Melpomaen without recognition, as if he were expecting to see someone else. As if he had seen that person in his mind's eye. Clearing his throat as he came to his senses, Haldir set the goblet down heavily and struggled to rise.

"Ai, I think that Orophin and I tried to outdo one another tonight. Your splendid fare and your fine liquid refreshments outpaced us, Meli!"

The laugh was dutiful, for the jest was spoken in such wooden tones that all knew it to be politeness at best. After their final bows, the couple left to return home.

'Home' was to be Melpomaen's talan and their usual fond parting but tonight Melpomaen did not want that. Tonight he had seen a dark side to Haldir, a melancholy emptiness that he longed to assuage in companionship, not carnally. He looked up at the Marchwarden, so far away in his thoughts as they walked through the city. If any saw them now who had seen them before in their happiness they would surmise that they had had a lover's quarrel, so remote was the connection between the two elves.

It was only when Melpomaen took Haldir's hand into his own that the warrior recognised his distraction and thus gathered his little elf to his side. Even then the embrace was perfunctory, of form rather than firmness. When they arrived at Melpomaen's talan, Haldir turned him in his arms and bent to kiss him farewell. The scribe leaned into the kiss, the touch of lips that normally brought him to his knees in need and want and love. Not tonight. Although his body responded, as it could not fail to do in this glorious elf's arms, there was not the deep longing nor desire for union that Melpomaen normally felt within Haldir's love. This loss frightened Melpomaen and he clasped his arms around the warden's neck in an attempt to stay his departure.

"Do not go," the dark elf whispered against Haldir's chest. "Do not leave me tonight. Stay with me, rest in my arms, meleth nín," he pleaded. Haldir shook his head, lifting his hands to break the hold that Melpomaen had upon him.

"Not tonight, pen neth. I am tired."

Melpomaen tried to resist the pressure on his arms, tried to press himself closer to the retreating ellon.

"So am I. We can just sleep, just hold each other. I want to lie beside you, Haldir. I want to feel your body against mine. I would comfort you, meleth nín."

The voice became harsh, impatient, as Haldir succeeded in breaking the stranglehold that the little elf had upon him.

"I am alright! I do not need your comfort!" Seeing the startled look upon the scribe's face, the warden tempered his reaction. "I am alright," he repeated. "I am - not in the best mood this evening. This would not be the right time for us to - to…"

Melpomaen squeezed the hands that were holding firm to his, hands that were holding him away from Haldir. Haldir was taking this the wrong way. He misunderstood Melpomaen. The scribe desperately wanted to help his love; to talk to him, to draw out of him all the pain he was so obviously now feeling. To bring to the light all the secrets he was holding in the depths of his soul, to be burnt away by the brightness of their love. He needed for them to break down the barrier that was proving such an obstacle to their relationship. Undaunted, he tried to convey this to Haldir.

"I do not ask for your body, Haldir. Something has darkened your soul tonight. Something to do with your reservations about our love. Talk to me, Haldir. Tell me what happened to you to cause this agitation, then we can -"

"*NO*!"

The word was explosive, and the power of the anger and the anguish behind it forced Melpomaen back as if hit by a blow.

"Elbereth! What part of 'no' do you not understand, Melpomaen of Imladris? I do not need your counsel! I can stand by myself. Alone." A haunted look came into his eyes. "Aye, always alone."

Melpmaen was frightened at the outburst, but more than that he was angry. Angry at Haldir, angry at the rejection of his offer of love and comfort, of the offer of his open heart. He was angry with himself for not persuading the warrior to confide in him. He was angry. Melpomaen of Imladris was no meek elf, and he did not back down.

"You are *not* alone! I am here for you, you stubborn fool!"

Haldir leaned down at this, his face close to Melpomaen's. His lips were drawn up in a ferocious grimace.

"Yes, you are here - but I will be no longer. Tonight I am alone by my own wishes, my own volition. Sleep well, Mel. Sleep alone."

With that he was gone, running down the stairs in his haste to depart the tense encounter. Melpomaen crept into his talan in shock. He closed the door and leaned against it, his body shaking as his knees could no longer bear his weight. He slid down to the floor and, wrapping his arms around the up-drawn knees, he bent his head and allowed his tears to flow in the aftermath of the disastrous farewell. And in recognition of a withdrawal of Haldir's affection.

For Haldir had called him Mel. He was his 'Maen no more.

TBC

Elvish:

ellyn - male elves (pl)
meldir - my friend
meleth nín - my love
elleth - female elf (sing.)
pen vuin - dear one.
pen neth - little one
elleth - female elf (sing.)
tôren - my brother
melethron - my lover (male)
ellon - male elf (sing.)
Maer daw - good night