Oathbound, Heartbroken *COMPLETE*

Title: Oathbound, Heartbroken 8/?
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 8


Melpomaen hissed in annoyance as the chorus of birds greeted the dawn. He was well aware of the changing hours. He had counted them down - second by second, minute by minute - each one as a drop of melted candle wax onto wooden table top, or a drip of rain upon the roof. During the night the weather had taken a turn for the worse and the fall of water from the sky had thrummed upon the talan roof. Not that Melpomaen would have been able to sleep anyway. His heart was too sore, his head too full of the resonating words flung at him by Haldir on the previous evening.

'I do not need your comfort!'

'I do not want you!'

'Sleep alone, Mel.'

It was the last that now made him curl into a ball upon his bed, his arms tight about his waist as he mourned the loss of his love. Of the loss of that endearing name.

'Maen.

The word was as a whisper in his mind and immediately he responded to the name in the same way.

'Yes, yours…'

Even as he thought the words he wished them to be true, that he could live the day, the night over again to amend his stupid words. His fatal actions…

'I am sorry, my love. My 'Maen…'

Startled, Melpomaen shot up in the bed, searching for the one who had murmured those syllables, those words. Searched for that voice he knew and loved so well.

'Please forgive me, ind nín?'

He could take it no longer. The scribe tore back the covers of the bed and, with no regard for his nakedness, he ran to the door of the talan and flung it wide open.

****

Hearing a gasp and movement within the talan Haldir lifted his drooping head from his chest, twisting in his seat upon the rain-soaked top step nearest to Melpomaen's door. His intake of breath was deep and longing as the door flung open and Melpomaen stood there in the glory that Ilúvatar had intended, unconscious of the exquisite and erotic sight that he made framed by the open doorway. The little elf stared in astonishment at the mass of flowers - elanor and niphredil, spring primrose and baby's breath - that adorned the door latch, railings, and benches of his balcony. The delighted and happy smile upon that beloved face made Haldir's heart leap in hope. Slowly he rose from his place of vigil, knowing that whatever the words he said now, they would be totally inadequate for the hurt he had caused. The hurt that he had promised Glorfindel would never happen. He stood, his face clearly displaying his remorse; his red-rimmed eyes were evidence of a sleepless, sorrowful night.

" 'Maen…?"

His voice cracked, so tight and raw was the aching throat, taut with the fear that he had lost his little love forever. He need not have trembled, for at the sound of the single word throbbing with trepidation, Melpomaen hurled himself into Haldir's arms.

"I'm sorry!" Melpomaen wept, the words spilling out in great choking sobs against Haldir's chest. Haldir wrapped his strong arms tightly around the slender elf, revelling once more in the perfection of this ellon. He held onto Melpomaen as a drowning mariner clings for life to a log floating on dangerous waters. Melpomaen was his love, his life - his lifeline. For him too the tears started to flow as his relief tumbled forth from him.

"Oh, 'Maen, I thought that I had lost you. I thought that I had pushed you so far away that you could never return to me. I love you, 'Maen. Oh Gods, how I love you! I am so sorry, meleth, I am so, so sorry."

Melpomaen's response was to lift his head, to plead with his eyes and beg with his lips for the sweet taste of Haldir. He longed for that questing tongue, that intimate exploratory battle that was so erotically challenging and tenderly fulfilling. Haldir answered instantly, claiming that pouting mouth with gentle ferocity.

Oh Elbereth! The sensation of bared skin beneath his calloused fingertips was so warm, so smooth. Instinctively his hands began to roam, each touch eliciting a moue of reaction from those precious lips pressed so firmly against his. Melpomaen was not going to release him soon from this kiss, and Haldir was content to be his captive forever. He lifted one hand to the nape of the small elf's neck so that he could tease the sweet flesh protected by that veil of darkness. The other traced a path over the curves of the scribe's body, so exposed, so revealed to him. It moved from the sharp angle of his shoulder blade, across and down the prominences of spinous processes to the cushioned swell of his buttocks, those downy cheeks that normally so pertly filled Melpomaen's leggings. Now they were his, to touch, to stroke, to knead, to pinch. Firmly he gripped them to him and pulled Melpomaen tightly against him.

"Ai! Oh, Haldir, oh my darling warrior!" Melpomaen broke the kiss, unable to stay quiescent when Haldir rotate his hips against him, rubbing forcefully against his throbbing arousal with the thin fabric of his leggings.

Gone were the finely decorated tunic and leggings of his formal attire. When Haldir had returned, drunk and grief-stricken, to his talan following the meal he had stripped himself of his finery. His aching heart would not let him rest and he had donned lighter garb to venture forth and collect these blossoms as his expression of sorrow and apology to his little 'Maen. Now he wore but these simple pants and shirt, and soft shoes soaked in the rain-drenched grasses of the Golden Wood. Melpomaen's fists were clenched in the thin material, pulling at it forcefully.

"I want to feel you too, Haldir!"

Haldir placed both hands under Melpomaen's seat, lifting and carrying him into the guest talan, setting him down on the bed before obligingly removing his shirt. Melpomaen reached up to grasp Haldir's arm and dragged him down onto the mattress, down into his arms.

Now both elves moved as one, the remaining offending fabric being disposed of quickly so that their nudity brought them to a unity of desire and love. The Marchwarden's member was as a twin to the scribe's, swollen and purple with need, pulsing in time with his quickened heartbeat. A thrill of fear trembled through his muscular body as he felt the shafts collide, as they greeted each other in erotic arousal. Haldir shivered as Melpomaen quickly claimed the right to stroke, to touch and tease and demand his ownership of this marvellous body. The shivers were not only due to the cool air against his skin, but to his innate terror of the possible result of this encounter. In his growing panic, his arousal began to fade and Haldir automatically began to remove himself from Melpomaen's clutches.

The little elf looked up, initially hurt at this implied rejection, then surprised at the unease in his beloved's eyes. Haldir saw the concern in the chocolate brown orbs, and his own pleaded silently for mercy from his little love. With a wisdom and understanding beyond his years Melpomaen released Haldir from his grasp, allowing the older elf to lie alongside him, their skin barely touching. Melpomaen looked into his wary silver-blue eyes once more, searching for answers before asking questions.

"I would touch you there, ind nín," the soft voice whispered, and slowly Haldir lowered his gaze to the small hand that hovered between them, so close to his now-softened member. Melpomaen continued softly, his voice soothing and reassuring. "I love you, Haldir. I want us to be happy. I want to make you happy. Please, may I touch you, stroke you? May I show you how good I can make you feel?"

Haldir groaned, a vision filling his mind of his 'Maen taking him to completion by the same method he had used to relieve himself through so many centuries of loneliness. Unable to resist this enticing opportunity, he forced down the creeping darkness and surrendered himself to Melpomaen's hands.

"I - I love you too, 'Maen. I - I fear…Please, I would know your touch, my beautiful 'Maen. If it is just that and no more..."

Melpomaen nodded, understanding somehow that this was a very tense moment for Haldir. His soft hand encircled the reduced shaft and began to gently stroke it. Haldir groaned as warmth immediately swept over his groin, rewarding Melpomaen's gentle touches with a swift increase in the circumference of the growing member. Tentatively Melpomaen leaned towards him without interruption to the gentle strokes, touching Haldir's lips lightly with the tip of his tongue. An exhaled breath greeted him and the tongue continued its journey into the moist cavern, delving into it once more to taste the depths of Haldir's sweetness. His lips did not linger there for now Haldir was reacting to the rhythm of his hand and was beginning to thrust into the slender grip. Releasing that beautiful mouth, Melpomaen began to place a trail of tender kisses from jaw down past the sinews of the neck to nibble at the prominent collarbone.

Haldir panted at the tentative teasing of sharp teeth against his chest, his breath becoming quick pants of desire. He could feel the tension beginning to rise in his groin as Melpomaen skilfully stroked him. It was at that moment he moaned in dismay when the little fingers left his needy member, only to groan in need once more as his scribe brought his own shaft into the hold. Cries escaped him, of surprise and joy, when Melpomaen began to thrust in tandem with him, and the exquisite friction of the weeping rods brought him higher in his endeavour to reach fulfilment.

A thumb swept lightly across the tip of his penis just as soft lips latched onto a reddened nipple. The sensation shot through him faster than an arrow, and even as the tongue flicked lightly over the nub, Haldir cried out as he was utterly undone. The hot seed spilled over Melpomaen's hand, triggering his own excited cries of completion. The two elves collapsed against each other, united in their delicious climaxes. After long moments trying to slow his frantic breathing Haldir opened his eyes to gaze upon that beauteous face once more. Melpomaen looked at him nervously and now that Haldir had recovered, the scribe touched a finger to the warrior's cheek, wiping away the tearstains.

"I did not hurt you did I, maethoren? I did please you?"

The voice was so hesitant that Haldir could do nothing but gather Melpomaen to his chest and plant many tender kisses upon that dark hair. He felt the worry subside within his little scribe.

"You did not hurt me, pen vain," he murmured against the silken strands. "You have released me in a way that you could not possibly understand. I never thought - I never dreamt - that I could be so close to an ellon. That I could find such happiness with you." He lifted his head to look once more at the elf who owned his heart. "This is a huge step for me, 'Maen. I know rationally that there is more, much more that could be achieved. Please have patience with me, my love. Can you do that? Can you wait for me?"

Melpomaen nodded, knowing that he could not understand yet the extent of the restrictions that kept his love bound so tight. However he could not let this moment by without placing his own needs to the fore.

"I can wait, Haldir, but with one proviso - we *must* talk. You must trust me, you must trust that I will not hurt you - not like Thalaglar."

Haldir froze, not expecting that name to fall from Melpomaen's lips. He had said that name for the first time in two millennia only the night before - and now his beloved spoke it back to him. Ai, but his love was so perceptive!

"It was of him that you spoke before, was it not Haldir? He was that first love that ended so badly for you. The disastrous love affair. I am not him, melethron. I am your 'Maen."

The revelations were coming fast and thick. Melpomaen now knew more than any other person alive of the source of his problems and Haldir was both relieved and terrified. As a secret it had been possible to hide it in the depths of his memory and to never admit his terrible judgement. Now it was as raw meat brought into the light - bloody, bruised and it had to be dealt with. Gods, that he could just throw the offending 'meat' away like the rotting offal it was. Stinking, its stench pervaded his mind as strongly as it inhibited his body. What to say? What to do? Even as Melpomaen asked for his trust, the millennia of distrust and his festering self-hatred came to the fore, tempering his response.

"Yes, it was Thalaglar. It - it happened when we were very young. I thought that is was - real - and true but … our parents did not approve."

Melpomaen looked confused.

"But had you not passed your Majority? Were you not both adults?"

Haldir nodded. "Barely. The attraction started a long time before that and even then my father discouraged it. He claimed that he did so for my own good. Then afterwards - Thalaglar's parents moved back to Greenwood and Thal had to go with them. I never saw him again."

Melpomaen nodded in understanding and caressed his lover's hair, stroking and separating the un-brushed strands.

"I was not so misfortunate as you, meleth nín. My first affair in love was not until well into my Awakening and then I had enlightened parents. Even so, there was no true love but only lustful bedding. No one snatched at my heart. No one captured it until you, my darling warrior."

The chocolate brown eyes looked at Haldir with such love and innocence that the Silvan elf's heart strained to contain the reciprocated feeling. Melpomaen was so open, so honest in his love that Haldir near wept at his duplicity. For it was in that moment that he was struck by the spotless honour of the Imladris elf.

The honour of an elf was at the centre of his being, for without honour the soul became dark and spoiled, and true love became twisted. The sorrowful tale of Eöl and his warped love for Aredhel; Maeglin and his forbidden lust for Idril - these were both examples of the perversion of love. Through dishonest desire their honour had been besmirched and their deeds were now forever vilified. With a falling heart Haldir knew that he was in danger of joining that loathsome company in his abrogation of his oath. How could he contemplate dragging this innocent ellon down with him? What was he to do? He could not now confess to Melpomaen, for his little love would be heartbroken. Was he truly being selfish in wanting to hold onto happiness while he may? Haldir thought back to Galadriel's offer and regretted that he should have refused her aid.

"Haldir? Haldir!"

The Marchwarden was jolted from his dire contemplations by frantic shaking and the anxiety in Melpomaen's voice. Focussing once more he registered that the scribe was leaning over him, his concern and fright clearly evident in the tension in his lean frame.

"Ai Haldir, please tell me what it is that tears you apart like this? I need to know that this is not a dream. I need to know that you love me as I love you. That you love me forever."

Forever. Eternity. That prize so elusive for Men, so damning upon the wearied souls of elves. Joyous where there is love and peace and unity; hateful and soul-destroying in the anguish of forbidden love. Oh yes, he would love Melpomaen for eternity. And that was the length of time that the little scribe would hate him for his lies and his deceptions.

Such longing there was in that gentle voice that Haldir pulled his little love into his arms, holding him tight in his need to imprint this moment onto his memory. He took in the scent of pine and valley in the warm brown hair, and the velvet touch of bare skin, and the elegant curves of the slim body. And he wept once more, his stumbling words aching with expected loss.

"I love you, Melpomaen. I love you forever, and now I know that soon I will lose you, and I know that you will hate me… May Manwë forgive me, for I am foresworn and I do not know what to do…"

And not all of the healing comfort or the copious words of consolation and reassurance that were poured onto him could assuage the tears of anguish, nor the depth of mourning tears that Haldir shed in the memory of a Galadhel's long-lost innocence. And the foreseen knowledge of the breaking of a young scribe's heart.

****

Haldir's stride was more confident as he walked towards the Royal Talan and a renewal of hope. After the heart-rending self doubt of that morning Haldir had made a decision to take back control of his life, a control that he had maintained through two thousand years. The semblance of the cool, arrogant Marchwarden had been shattered by the arrival of the Scribe of Imladris. Haldir's life had changed beyond belief in the space of less than two months and his emotions scattered to both extremes of the scale. Now was the time to re-forge his future.

He had left Melpomaen as Caras Galadhon began to stir, knowing that his love's concern was soul-deep. Haldir's thoughts had been in a whirl, but after his short walk to his talan and his bathing and dressing for the day ahead, he had come to a decision which now brought him to his Lady.

Haldir had no trouble gaining access to the Royal Talan, for his position as Marchwarden placed him on a par or higher than many of the councillors to Lothlórien's rulers. Haldir was proud of the position he had earned, proud of his honorific title of 'Lord Haldir' and very proud of the work he had done in the service of Celeborn and Galadriel. Sinda, Noldo, Silvan - they three had always sought to fight the darkness and to give the elves of the Golden Wood a home free of terror and tyranny. Now Haldir was facing his own terror and he hoped that the Lady would be able to free him from its tyrannical hold upon his life.

There was little delay in admitting the Marchwarden to the Lady's presence and in minutes he stood in one of the smaller reception rooms, making his bow with hand over heart to Galadriel. The golden lady rose and came to greet him cordially.

"I know why you have come, dearest Haldir - but to demonstrate the depths of your wishes in this matter you must ask formally for my aid."

The words were soft but direct and Haldir bowed his head in understanding.

"Lady Galadriel, I am in love with Melpomaen of Imladris and would take him as my bereth. We are soulmates and my very being cries out for him. However I am bound by an oath sworn in absentia to my father, and bound by a fear of physical intimacy with a male. I therefore most humbly beg your assistance, for I seek release from my oath and a cure for my fears."

The words were difficult to say, initially catching in his throat as he finally revealed the hidden scars of over two millennia. By the end of his plea however he felt as if a great weight had lifted from his shoulders just by vocalising the source of his turmoil. Involuntarily he began to tremble.

Galadriel gathered her Marchwarden into her arms, soothing the shaking elf. "Celeborn and I have waited long for this moment, for this opportunity to help our most faithful servant." She pulled back from the embrace, still holding gently to his arms. "My lord's words were true to his need for your skills when he ordered your retention in Caras Galadhon - but he also understood your reservations. He advised you to come to me, did he not? My lord is not cruel and he holds the same love for you that I do, Haldir Celegonion."

Her eyes twinkled as the full meaning of her words became clear to the warrior, and Haldir winced when he remembered the perceived 'tongue-lashing' he had received from Lord Celeborn. He now wondered at the machinations of the Sinda and the warden felt great gratitude for the Prince of Doriath.

"So what must I do, my lady? Shall I come to your grove, to view the mirror?"

Galadriel shook her head, her golden tresses waving gently with the movement. She looked at him with a warning in her eyes.

"No. The ceremony will take place in the grove, but the mirror will only externalise your visions and cannot be controlled to the necessary degree of accuracy. Your problems in the present arose in your past, and you must relive your memories afresh to see the truth within them."

The unease that flashed in Haldir's blue eyes was very evident and she laid a soothing hand upon him.

"You will *not* be alone, mellon nín! I will be with you as you enter the trance, and one other. The adult members of your family must assemble also, to give of their strength and support to you as you walk the path of the past. From within your family or without, you must choose your Seer, a person whom you can trust to see what you see - and perhaps that which you do not or will not. He or she must help you to interpret your visions and delineate the truth from the falsehoods that were devised by a frightened child to hide those that hurt the most. Choose well Haldir, for this will be your moment of truth."

Haldir thought upon his family - Orophin, so vocal and enthusiastic in his affections; Rúmil who had mourned his solitary state; Meluiwen who was calm, gentle and wise; and at the last -

"Doron," he said firmly. "I choose Doron. He is a scholar and is trained to see meaning in the most obscure texts. He will see what I cannot. He is also an ellon who loves an ellon, and he will understand the cause of my conflicts. I would not subject my brothers or my sister to the more - damaging - of my actions in the past. So I choose Doron."

Galadriel nodded, obviously in agreement with his words. "Your choice is wise, Haldir. You must speak to your family now and ask for Doron's agreement to his participation in this ceremony. Three nights hence we will assemble in my glade in the early evening to undertake the Dreamwalking. You and Doron must fast on that day in preparation for the ritual."

"And Melpomaen?" Haldir asked hesitantly. Galadriel shook her head once more.

"He should not come that night, if that is what you are asking. As to what to tell him, if anything, I leave that up to you." Galadriel gave one of her most brilliant smiles. "I have great hope for you, Haldir. I feel the pull on your souls and I know that the love between you is meant to be."

A final farewell and a happier, yet still apprehensive, Marchwarden left the Royal Talan to return to his duties - and smile happily upon his 'Maen once more.

****

Haldir lifted his head from the notes before him to gaze lovingly at the scribe he adored. Melpomaen seemed to sense this attention and turned to reciprocate the adoration with a blush and a shy smile, then glanced at the unseeing group of librarians about them before returning to his task.

Haldir hugged the loving smile within his heart as he tried to pay attention to the text dancing before his eyes. It was now the third day since his meeting with Galadriel and tonight would see his descent into his memories in an attempt to free himself of the bondage of the past. Glancing briefly at Doron he felt a wave of gratitude for his brother-in-law who had immediately acceded to his request for companionship upon this most miraculous journey.

"For sure I will act as your companion, Haldir," the librarian had said upon receipt of the request. "I love you both and will do whatever is necessary to see your happy union with Melpomaen."

The reaction of his brothers and Meluiwen had been mixed for they had had no idea or knowledge that Haldir's past had been so difficult.

"Of course we will attend," Orophin had said with concern. "I would have stood as your Seer had you wished it."

Haldir had responded in the negative, saying to his brothers, "There may be - revelations - concerning our parents, and acts of a disturbing nature that I would not have you witness. Doron is trained to look at things objectively. I know that he will perform his part admirably."

The last few days had also served to increase his happiness in his relationship with Melpomaen. He had spent the nights with his little 'Maen, showing his pleasure and repeating those acts of love that had brought him to tears during that early morning tryst. As fulfilling as the ecstatic climaxes were, it was the intense glow of the aftermath and the feel of the slight ellon within the circle of his muscular arms that brought Haldir the greatest joy. He had not told Melpomaen anything of the events of tonight, save for the necessity of the forthcoming meeting with the Lady. He mourned the obligatory separation nevertheless.

In all, his life now seemed to be progressing, with the promise of a much brighter future after this night. His good cheer brought him to others' attention and only a warning glance from Doron reduced his exuberance.

He was deep in discussion with Glorfindel over details of the battle of Dagorlad when the door to the room burst open, and Haldir was shocked to see a battle-stained Galadhel from the Northern Patrol. The wild-eyed warrior spotted him across the room and blurted out his message in frantic tones.

"My Lord Haldir! You must come with all haste to Lord Celeborn, for I bring evil news from the Northern Fences. Disaster has struck, my Lord! The Golden Wood is invaded by orcs!"


TBC


Elvish:

ind nín - my heart
meleth - love
maethoren - my warrior
pen vain - beautiful one
ellon - male elf
melethron - lover (m)
meleth nín - my love
bereth - spouse.
mellon nín - my friend