Rating R

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LAMENT

He breathed slowly as he walked with a heavy heart. The mystical beauty of Lothlórien paled in comparison to one so dear. The serenity of this place comforted him not. He had come here many times and each time all his woes and troubles would vanish amongst the quiet serenity, but not this time. The silence was full of sadness. Grief carried on the wind. It was not a comforting sound. The air felt cold, not the usual brisk cool which invigorated him. The sounds of the mournful song filled the air. He took a deep silent breath as he walked, barely able to listen to the gentle, loving words, sung in his own tongue. In his hands, he held a silver carafe, containing crisp clear water. He walked slowly by the others.

“A lament for Gandalf,” he said softly.

“What do they say about him?” Merry asked.

“I have not the heart to tell you. For me the grief is still too near.”

Legolas walked away from the hobbits and the others, feeling the Earth beneath his feet, but it gave him no comfort. He took a deep breath, but found no solace. Slowly, he poured the water on the ground, paying his respects to the old Wizard. He set the silver vessel down beside the tree and walked away. He placed his face in his hands for a while, his long pale unkempt hair falling past his shoulders. The Elf was too sad to worry about his appearance. He began to walk back to the others, but decided against it. He wanted to be alone this night.

He climbed a thick tree and lay down in the hollow inside. His heart seemed to pull him down. It weighed as much as Lonely Mountain, but felt even lonelier. Legolas sat in the soft hollow, but again he found no comfort. He barely heard the other approach. He realised if it had been an Orc, he’d be dead now. Silently he cursed himself for his folly, though he did not know how he could go on when one so dear to him was lost. Legolas awaited his visitor, expecting it to be one of the hobbits, or perhaps Aragorn. The footfalls seemed too light to belong to the Dwarf or the feisty Boromir.

He spoke quietly. “If I am disturbing you, I will leave.”

It was Haldir. His long blonde hair gave an enchanted glow in the magical night lights of Lothlórien.

Legolas turned his head. Some part of him welcomed the comfort.

“Nay,” he said softly as the elder Elf entered the hollow and knelt beside him.

Gently, Haldir took his hand. “It is time for you to rest, Dear Legolas. You have a long, arduous journey ahead.”

“You are wise, Haldir of the Golden Wood.”

“As are you, Legolas and your wisdom will grow with the passage of time.” Haldir paused before he continued. “Do not hold onto your grief. You must let it go.”

The younger Elf took a deep breath. “I feel I have lost my father and my brother.”

“I know your pain,” Haldir said softly. “But know that if you hold onto it, it will make you become angry and bitter.”

Legolas’ heart heaved. His hand tightened its grip slightly around Haldir’s.

“Let it out, Legolas. This does not mean you are letting the memory of beloved Gandalf go, nor does it mean you are betraying what he meant to you. Gandalf the Grey was dear to me as well and you must remember, his Spirit will never cease.”

Legolas closed his eyes. “I know ... But I miss him so ...Even his bushy beard.”

Haldir’s eyes smiled. “But you must let it go, Legolas,” he urged gently.

The young Elf could hold himself back no longer. As the tears welled in his eyes, he did nothing to stop them, though he cried in silence. Haldir held him gently and stroked him softly and wiped away his tears. For many hours, Haldir held the younger Elf in his arms, gently comforting him, until Legolas’ tears subsided and the two elves parted slightly. Legolas looked into Haldir’s serene eyes and he felt he could get lost in them. The other Elf’s lips gently touched his own and Legolas did get lost, in Haldir’s long kiss. The other Elf began to remove Legolas’ clothing. The younger Elf hesitated.

“Let the moment take you,” Haldir said, his voice seeming like the very wind itself.

“Do you believe it right to take pleasure when someone so dear to me is lost?”

“Do you think Mithrandir wishes you suffer and stay in grief?”

Slowly, Legolas placed his arms around Haldir and kissed him.

The older Elf smiled warmly, retuning Legolas’ kiss. After they parted, Haldir stood and began to remove his Lothlórien attire, letting it fall to the ground. Legolas’ heart skipped a beat as he looked up at the Marchwarden standing as the Valar intended, before him. Haldir smiled as he knelt down to Legolas as the other Elf removed the rest of his clothing.

“I … I am new to this …” he said. “I have never … been with anyone before.”

“There is no need for fear,” Haldir comforted. “I was unsure my first time as well. Many years ago, I shared a night with Tinion, one of my fellow Marchwardens. It was the first time for both of us and I assure you there is nothing to be afraid of, but if you still feel uncomfortable, I will respect that.”

“I do not wish you to leave, Haldir. I want to be with you. You came to me when I needed you and I thank you for that.”

Haldir smiled. “It is my pleasure, Legolas of Mirkwood.”

The two Elves, both naked now, embraced, their bodies warm against the other.

A passionate kiss ensued, each Elf becoming lost in the other. Haldir let out a pleasurable sigh when they parted and his hands began to explore Legolas’ bare body. The younger Elf shivered with delight at being touched this way. Haldir’s hand slid across his flat stomach and around his slender waist. Legolas pulled the older Elf closer to him and held him, before beginning to explore Haldir’s body. His touch was not so experienced as Haldir, though the other Elf enjoyed it nonetheless. Legolas hoped he could duplicate Haldir’s exquisite touch and slowed down a little, caressing Haldir’s bare chest. A sigh of pleasure escaped from the other Elf and Legolas deduced he was doing something right. Haldir was content to lie there while the young Elf massaged him. Legolas bent forward and kissed him gently. Haldir smiled and took the younger Elf into his arms, resuming his caress. Legolas closed his eyes and let the moment take him. He was in the now, not the past or the future, it seemed now was all that mattered. A thought about Gandalf entered his mind and the old wizard was smiling and Legolas smiled back, at peace for the first time in an age, though he still felt the Istari’s loss. He suddenly gasped with pleasure as Haldir’s hand brushed over the blonde velvety patch of his nether regions. Legolas extended his and to do the same, at first he had been a little afraid to, but now he knew no fear and he was rewarded when he saw Haldir shiver pleasantly. The two came closer together and embraced other, their nether regions touching, and they felt as one, this night in Lothlórien.

“Thank you,” the young Elf whispered.

“Your grief was like a beacon in the night. I had to come.”

“You have made it a little easier for me, Haldir of Lórien. Gandalf’s loss still pains me greatly, and in the days ahead I will learn to bear the sorrow, but I am glad you are here.”

Haldir smiled warmly and spoke in Elven tongue. “I will remain for as long as you need me.”

Legolas’ eyes conveyed his gratitude. There was no need for more words. He lay with his head in Haldir’s soft, comforting lap as the other Elf stroked him gently, further comforting the grieving one. It did not take long for Legolas to fall into a deep sleep to dream of Gandalf, and ever vigilant, Haldir watched him all through the night.