Cuil Eden

70

Glorfindel slowly walked down the steps that led to the somewhat broader wooden path which curled around the stately mallorn's branches. He passed another tiny, winding stair that led upwards into the thinner branches and would have passed it unthinkingly, had not soft laughter made him slow and stare curiously into the darkness above.

A moment later, Haldir and Legolas appeared, clutching at each other as they slowly traversed the small steps, the former with a put-upon expression on his face, the latter giggling.

Glorfindel raised a brow when they finally managed to climb down the stairs and stopped in front of him, still clutching at the other.

"Haldir slipped and fell!" Legolas imparted to him with greatest delight. "Almost fell, if I had not grabbed him! Can you imagine that?"

"I did no such thing!" Haldir protested, and Legolas giggled again.

"He is drunk," he told Glorfindel very gravely, as if he were imparting a great secret, and Haldir snorted but did not let go of Legolas, as Glorfindel noted.

"You are both inebriated," Glorfindel said and tried to glower at them, but Legolas mirth - influenced by liquor or not - and Haldir's long-suffering grumbling proved to be too much; he laughed softly and shook his head.

"You are both drunk, a little at least. Come here, Legolas, let go of Haldir - please tell me that he did not try anything inappropriate?"

Legolas giggled again and eagerly came to his side to wrap his arms around his neck with a sigh of contentment.

"He did not... Did not even ask for a kiss. He was nice, in fact! Haldir is so kind..." he sighed, and Glorfindel reacted with an involuntary guffaw, while Haldir tried to glower but did not quite succeed.

"Come here, nice, kind Haldir," he commanded and offered the warden his hand to help him down the last, steep stairs.

"I did not fall!" Glorfindel's mouth twitched at Haldir's sullen exclamation. "I never fall. I live here! I might have stumbled a little, but it is dark, and in any case I had to prop up your beloved who I have to tell you is quite a bit more drunk than I am," Haldir said primly. "And he still owes me a dance, just so that you do not forget!"

"I would never!" Legolas reassured him. "How could I? I will gladly dance with you, and tell anyone who asks about your kindness."

"That is the surest way to convince them that you are quite drunk," Haldir snorted, and then grinned despite himself.

"Anyway... what did you do with my beloved, Lord? He should be the one to help me back to the hall, and to make certain that I do not stumble and fall to my death from the mallorn." His sarcastic tone showed all too clearly what he thought of Legolas' accusation that he, a wood-elf and a Marchwarden to boot, should manage that which no other Galadhel ever had, save when wounded and pursued by orcs or wargs.

"I fear that I did not quite agree with what he had to tell me, so he already went back on his own," Glorfindel said breezily, and Haldir snorted inelegantly.

"Hah. Walked off in a huff, like a jealous youth, you want to say. Never fear, he will be much better behaved once he has spent a few hours gagged, with his arse striped from my cane. He is going to apologize to me when we catch up with him, if he knows what is good for him..."

Legolas giggled again, obviously trying to imagine the proud advisor bent over Haldir's knee in the same position he had so often found himself in, and Glorfindel raised a brow.

"Do I even want to know just what the two of you have been talking about?"

"No, you do not," Haldir informed him. "Now let us return, before they send out someone else to search for us. You do not want one of your men to come upon you like this, do you?"

"What, with both of you clinging to me because you cannot walk straight anymore?" Glorfindel could not resist to ask, and gave Haldir a doubtful look when the warden made an annoyed sound and let go of his arm.

"I told you, I am not drunk. See, I can stand all on my own." He stretched out his arms and twirled around once, and while he did indeed not stumble or sway, the action itself was so ludicrous that Glorfindel could only barely hold back a snort of laughter.

"Not drunk then, but very much inebriated. Come, Legolas, I will not let go of you, else I am going to find Haldir draped all over you again."

He held the youth tight, keeping an eye on Haldir too as they slowly walked back to the large talan that beckoned beneath them with brightly illuminated windows and snippets of song and laughter.

They did not meet Ellonúr again until they had almost reached the entrance, but when they had caught up with him, Haldir grabbed hold of his shoulder and pulled him back, forcing him into a small alcove formed by the wall and a large branch.

"Kneel," he said, all of his former intoxicated geniality forgotten, and Legolas instinctively moved closer against Glorfindel, feeling breathless at what he heard in his voice.

“What do you think you are-”

“Kneel!” Haldir repeated, his face thunderous, and Ellonúr swallowed and obeyed, though his eyes were flashing with rage.

“You have come to me, and I have accepted you; you will do as you are told, do you understand?”

“Yes,” Ellonúr said, though his voice was sullen, and Haldir snorted.

“I do not think you do, but you will. You have made it more than obvious what you need, and I will give you exactly what you deserve – tomorrow, when I am sober. I will not have you in my bed tonight; let us see if a night on the floor does not cool your mood. And then an hour or two – or more, if you need it – bound, and gagged, and blindfolded too, so that you can think undisturbed. Let us see if you then feel ready to talk to me.”

Legolas took a shaky breath, feeling strangely affected by Haldir's words. The scenario they painted was frightening, and yet... There was something in Haldir's voice that made him feel weak, his heart fluttering, and Glorfindel smiled and pressed a kiss to his cheek.

“We are going to play a different game tomorrow,” he murmured into Legolas' ear, “but I look very much forward to that.”

Legolas flushed, but found himself nodding – he did agree with his Lord after all, had himself asked for the honor of wearing his knots, and while what Haldir proposed to do to Ellonúr did indeed frighten him, he did not fear his Lord, no matter what he might ask of him.

He found himself turned around then, and thoroughly kissed, so that he forgot all about Ellonúr and Haldir until his Lord released him at last, looking just as aroused and out of breath as Legolas felt.

“Time for my dance,” Haldir said, eyes gleaming, and grabbed his hand to unceremoniously pull him inside. Legolas had no time to protest against this treatment, for the musicians had just started a new song, and soon he found all of his concentration needed for the wild whirling at Haldir's side.

Haldir was not a bad dancer, even while inebriated, and Legolas quickly found himself out of breath again. Celeborn saved him at last from Haldir's energetic leading, and returned with him to their table where his Lord was waiting with another glass of mead for him by Galadriel's side.

“It seems you have found a way into our warden's well-guarded heart after all?” Galadriel said with obvious pleasure and took his hands into hers. “Well done, Legolas... It gladdens me to see him shed his pain and rage.”

“He is much kinder than I initially thought.” Legolas smiled at her, still awed by the air of confident power that surrounded her. She was much like his Lord in that, but while his Lord seemed to exude raw sexuality and desires of a kind that had made him tremble before he had even spoken his first word to him, the Lady's power made him feel as if he were bathed by rays of sunlight, and while it might have the potential to sear and burn, he felt naught but caressing warmth and kindness.

His father's men had told many stories about her ruthless thirst for power, yet Legolas was not frightened by her at all – although he remembered his brother's chastised reaction when her gaze fell onto him, during the first meal they had shared at the high table.

“There is an old custom among my people, which my cousin may remember well,” she began and half turned to give Glorfindel that same affectionate smile, her hand rising to gently cover a small diamond that lay nestled in the hollow of her throat and glistened as if it were filled with the light of all the stars of the night-sky. “You might have no close kin here in my realm but for your brother, who does not think kindly of you. Yet my lord was a cousin of your grandfather, just as I am cousin to Glorfindel, the last of my brother Turgon's lords on these shores. I want to give this to you, Legolas, as a gift from Glorfindel's family, on the occasion of your upcoming wedding. It would fill me with great joy to see you wear it.”

A jewel of pale yellow, as large as a quail's egg, came to rest against Legolas' breast, and his breath caught when the Lady fastened the slim chain it hung from around his neck. He took the gem into his hand and looked at it in disbelief – it caught the light just like the diamond the Lady wore, yet where hers had the hue of the stars at night, the golden diamond on his palm held a gentler glow, and the warmth of the calm morning sun.

“My brother gave it to me,” she said softly, and her eyes seemed to cloud over with sudden melancholy. “He found it when he first followed a dream and came to the caverns of Narog where he would found Nargothrond. He cut it and set it himself. He would be glad to see it given on such a joyful occasion, to such a worthy bearer.” She kissed Legolas' brow, who was speechless at the revelation just where the jewel had come from, too speechless to even protest at being given a gift of such unmeasurable worth, as he otherwise would have done.

Galadriel turned and stepped up to Glorfindel, blessing him with a kiss as well. “My brother loved you,” she said and raised her hand to rest it above his heart. “He always knew that your heart was good and true. He would know such great joy to see you on this day.”

“This, I give to you in lieu of your betrothed's family,” Celeborn then said and gravely put a necklace on Glorfindel, who humbly bowed his head to receive it. “It was wrought in Doriath, by Thingol's finest goldsmith. See, it matches your beloved's eyes.”

A sapphire rested on a golden chain on Glorfindel's breast, next to his heart. It had been cut in the shape of a tear, and when Glorfindel curiously took it into his hand, he saw that it was clasped by filigreed silver leaves.

"It is beautiful," Glorfindel said with heartfelt emotion. "I thank you - both of you. It means very much, truly, especially as both of our families are unable to share in our joy."

"Thank you," Legolas repeated simply, still not quite able to grasp the enormity of the gift he had been given. A jewel which had belonged to famed Finrod, which he had given as a gift to his sister, the Lady of Light - and who in turn gave it to him, Legolas, who was certainly little more than a child still in her eyes and of no importance whatsoever in the grand scheme of things?

And yet she had said that her brother had loved his Lord well, and his Lord had been moved so much by her gift that Legolas once again felt like a child surrounded by the heroes of songs of lore, who had suddenly come to life around him. He felt like an intruder into their circle, undeserving of standing at their side... He had nothing to offer them in return, nothing to show himself worthy of being a part of their circle but for the fact that his Lord loved him.

Legolas clasped the gem once more in his hand and marveled at the light that seemed captured inside, but then, as if he were aware of his pensive mood, Celeborn grasped his hand and broke up the solemnity of the moment.

"Come, dance with me - and afterward, I think my Lady wants to claim your hand for another song." He laughed at Legolas' wide-eyed look, and the youth had no chance to resist when he was drawn into the throng of dancers once more.

He danced for what felt like hours - with Celeborn first, later with the Lady, and then his Lord tried to claim his hand once more, but was thwarted first by Arwen and then Glorfindel's own men. There was more mead, more wine, even more ale for those who preferred it, and Legolas was aglow with joy and disbelieving pride at being the center of attention of such an evening. Never would he have imagined that something like this was possible, that one day he would dance with the Lady of the Golden Wood herself and not stumble from self-consciousness, or trip over his words in embarrassment at her attention.

Instead, it felt natural to dance and converse with her, with Celeborn, even with the Lady Arwen without feeling out of place. He thought that much of his confidence was due to the mead, for he still felt lightheaded and giddy, yet not so much that he was unable to dance. Instead, the warm glow inside of him made him forget his doubts and the insidious fear that he would say or do something wrong, and in its absence he simply allowed himself to enjoy the feast, the dancing, and trusted that none of those who talked to him wished him harm.

At last, he found himself resting breathlessly against Glorfindel's side, exhausted and flushed from the exertion and the mead, and happy as never before.

"This was like a day out of a song for me, my Lord," he said softly, his eyes filled with love. "I did not believe that such a thing was possible, or that I would ever enjoy it so much. Thank you, my Lord!"

Glorfindel gently took hold of his hand and drew it up to his lips to press a kiss to the slender fingers, one of them now adorned with a silver ring.

"To see that you are truly mine... To know myself fully yours..." Glorfindel fell silent and looked at Legolas, his eyes full of emotion. "I have no words to express my joy, only that I love you."

He gently drew one hand through the pale locks crowned with the silvery and golden blossoms of elanor, and their scent wafted around them, made him think of the bright spring day when he had first seen the youth at the lake.

What a terrible thing he had done...

"I love you," he repeated as if to repel the memory, then leaned forward to gently touch his lips to Legolas'. His hand slid down from the youth's shoulder over the iridescent silk, and with a smile and a sigh he drew back at last when his fingers encountered the cool jewel now gleaming on Legolas' breast like a captured ray of sunlight.

"To see you wearing this gives me such joy. He would have loved you, Legolas - he would have seen the worth of your heart. He always saw much more than others gave him credit for. He was compassion mingled with a bright love of life, he was wisdom, gentleness, and adventure. He would have loved you, for you are so much like him, and although I know that all the qualities of your heart have been derided, I want you to know that I loved them in him. You remind me of him, so much..."

"Finrod, Lord?" Legolas breathed, his voice trembling at the emotion in his Lord's eyes.

"Finrod," Glorfindel said and smiled. "Finrod the Beloved... Finrod, fairest of the princes of the Noldor. In my youth, he gave me a mighty gift, and I wished he could have given the same to you. Yet perhaps, one day you shall meet..."

"A gift, my Lord?"

Glorfindel nodded at Legolas' curious question and drew him close. "He taught me that there is no shame in desiring what I desired. He taught me to feel no guilt at how it excited me to have him helpless beneath me, to use my power over him to bring pleasure to the both of us."

Legolas' eyes went wide with shocked disbelief, and Glorfindel laughed and raised a hand to tenderly cup his cheek. "He surrendered to me and felt no shame in his enjoyment of it. And if Finrod could submit to my will without being made less by it, then so can you, Legolas nín."


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The Noldorin custom of giving a jewel to bride and groom is described in Laws and Customs of the Eldar, Morgoth's Ring:
Among the Noldor also it was a custom that the bride's mother should give to the bridegroom a jewel upon a chain or collar; and the bridegroom's father should give a like gift to the bride. These gifts were sometimes given before the feast. (Thus the gift of Galadriel to Aragorn, since she was in place of Arwen's mother, was in part a bridal gift and earnest of the wedding that was later accomplished.)