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A Familiar Longing	By : Ertia Category: -Multi-Age > Slash - Male/Male Views: 1443 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own the Lord of the Rings (and associated) book series, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
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Tolkien is the owner. I merely plant flowers in his garden. I earn nothing but the joy of watching them grow!

All my loves, the darkness is lifting at long last and it is so good to be home again with my Elves! Those who are awaiting more on "Fifteen Years" and "More Serious Elf" do not have long to wait, I promise!
Familiar Longing: Part 3
Breath of Life : Haldir's POV
Haldir breathed deep the scent of the citrus oil he was polishing his armor with, letting it seep into his soul the way it seeped into his skin. It was a scent that would always remind of him of Lord Celeborn and the first moment he had laid eyes on the Lord as he moved in inspection of the troops. Haldir, so young then, his brightly polished armor glinting in the sunlight, the smell of oil on his hands, in his clothes; he had so wanted to do well.
The memory caused a bitter smile. And quite well he had done indeed. He was trusted now with the safety and security of the entire realm, the forest of Lothlorien kept well under his eye. The trust and love of his Lord and Lady, once so powerful and distant, and now so close in his heart that he couldn't remember a time when he had been without them, without their love. He sighed once more, closing the bottle of oil and giving a final rub to the shoulder piece of his armor. His scarlet cape would hide it, none would see any imperfection, even if there were an imperfection. But Haldir would never allow an imperfection. In the Elves who served under him, he was fair and forgiving, but for himself, he set the example. Perfection. Nothing less was acceptable.

Another sigh rent him. Perfection. Then what could he have been thinking? The memory soared back to him of the afternoon only weeks before, when he had ridden out with Celeborn, as was their want, side by side, exploring the forest, seeing that all was well. They had stopped by the Nimrodel and listened to her song, settling by the bank as their horses grazed along the waterside.
Haldir had moved first, a rarity in their relationship, reaching out and taking Celeborn's shoulder. He had felt the strength of his muscles as he eased him onto the greensward and leaned in to kiss him. The silver lord had chuckled, and kissed him back. They had fallen together then, play and power coming together in the familiar swirl of heated skin. Oh, how Haldir loved him. He loved Galadriel, too, but they had their private moments, the three of them, each with the other. Haldir had once felt nothing but emptiness in that deep place in his heart that was now filled with their love; his White Lady and her Silver Lord. Together with their Golden Warden, they were a like priceless jewel, three stones brought together by the solder of love.
It was this that he was thinking as he had leaned over Celeborn, kissing him deeply as he claimed his body. Complete. Whole. Precious. Alive. Celeborn had whispered in his mind, encouraging him, saying the words back. Complete. Whole. Precious. They had come together, body and spirit, murmuring the words together, a prayer to the Valar. It was moments before they realized what they had done, and who could say who knew first?
Celeborn's eyes had opened in shock. Haldir had gasped, withdrawing quickly... to quickly for comfort, although Celeborn did not flinch away, too lost in the implications of their actions. They had stared at each other, naked, open, and afraid, with the whisper of Nimrodel singing in their ears. What had they done?
"What have we done?" Celeborn murmured, closing his eyes and turning his head.
Haldir had moved quickly, grasping Celeborn, pulling him to him, terrified that he had, in one foolish moment, destroyed their precious love. "Oh, my lord. My lord. Do not turn me away."
Celeborn had clasped him tightly, burying his face in that golden hair, and whispered, "Never. Never, gwador. We will get through this."
"How?" Haldir had asked, but Celeborn could not answer. He had said he needed to think, to meditate on what to do, how to tell their other love what they had done.
That had been nearly four weeks ago. Celeborn had not seen him, except to take report, although he had touched his hand, and tried to offer reassurances. Haldir had allowed him his space, allowed him to think, even as he quaked in terror that this was to end. There had been no invitations to luncheon. No private walks with the Lady in her gardens. He did not know what was passing between the Lord and Lady, but there was thing of which he was very certain.
Galadriel would cast him out. She would promote Rumil or Orophin, and neither of his brothers would dare to join him in his exile. The White Lady was grace itself, but there were things she would never forgive, and this was one of them.
And where would he go? Imladris? Mirkwood? Who would he be there? Just another soldier fighting his way up the ranks all over again. And could he bear the parting? Could he return to the half- hearted elf he was before their love? He would fade, he knew. He could not live without them now. And what of Celeborn and the... his mind whispered the word...the babe. She would not send him from his child, would she? Was he destined never to hold his child in his arms? Never to sing him to sleep? Longing swept through him, mofre fiercely than any battle-fury ever had.
Perhaps she would exile them together, forever to be without her. At least then, he would have two, instead of none.
He knew though, with all certainty, that Celeborn would never leave her. Their love was too deep, too strong, too ancient. And she needed him. No. It would be the MarchWarden of Lothlorien who would be punished for his transgressions. Oh...how could he have done such a thing?
Haldir steadied his thoughts, tossing his polishing cloths into the bucket and moving to the window. He would find no rest this night. The ceremony tomorrow must be perfect. He had to show her that he was still her MarchWarden, that he was still responsible for his duties whatever else may lay between them. He had to make her know he loved her, no matter what.

The next morning, as he assembled his Guardians in the Great Glade, he looked for them, his Lord and Lady, even as he searched his guard with eagle eyes, ensuring that all was perfect. Celeborn appeared, looking weary, and Haldir tried to pretend not to notice, although worry sung at him. This strain could not be good for Celeborn, or for the life within him. He called his guard to attention just as Galadriel appeared. Seeing her enter, her head raised high, gleaming in the morning sun, her yellow gown accented by the golden mallorns above and behind her, his breath choked in his throat, and his eyes burned with tears.
He did not dare look at her as he signalled salute, shutting his mind off from her. He could not bear for her to see his shame, although he knew soon enough he would have to face her, and her judgement. The morning passed in a misty haze, the promotions made, blessings given. Oh, how he longed for her blessing! He wanted to kneel at her feet and hear her assure him that all would be made well.
'Fool,' he thought to himself. It would be a very long time before all would be well, if it ever was again.
The ceremony closed, and Celeborn called to him. He tried not to let his relief show on his face as he was asked to join them for luncheon. Then he was still wanted? He was not shut out?
And then Galadriel turned and fled from them, not in anger but in pain. Haldir took one look at Celeborn's face and knew. "You haven't told her then?"
"No, I was hoping that you and I, together.."
As Celeborn's words faded, Haldir sensed the depth of his pain. How it hurt him to see this mighty lord, for whom he carried nothing but love and respect, so lost and heartworn. He had tried to shrug it off, to encourage Celeborn, to show him that they would face this together, whatever happened.

As they luncheoned, Haldir suggested that they just approach her as they would with any business. She loved them, of this Haldir was certain. But Celeborn thought they needed a lighter touch, a more personal approach.
"It's impossible when she will not even speak with us." Haldir had insisted, pushing past Celeborn's fear.
He had shaken his head slightly. "I'm afraid, Haldir, I am losing her."
Anything. He would have done or said anything to erase that uncertain pain from Celeborn's crystal blue eyes. He laughed, forcing himself to believe the words he was saying. "You could no soooner lose her than you could lose your horse!"
And when Celeborn started, and laughed with the admission that his own horse had thrown him and run away, oh how they had both laughed. It had felt so safe, so good, to be at ease for a moment. If he had only known that the Lady would return at that moment, the doors slamming in their frames behind her in her wrath. Ah, but he had not known and their laughter ended as abruptly as it had began.
Celeborn started to stand, but Haldir recognized the look in his eyes, the determination that this would go no further, but be ended here and now. Dropping his hand on his arm, Haldir sought to forstall him. "Wait a moment. Let me speak with her first."
What he didn't say was let me test the waters. Let her anger come at me, break me, and keep you safe. Let me see what her true feelings are before we churn them any further, lest they break like the waves upon the shores of the Havens. He didn't say these things, but he thought them, felt them, sensed them as he made his way to the door of her private study.
He did not knock. Long he had walked these halls and long he had been lover to both the Lord and the Lady. There should be no barriers so physical as doors between them. He kept his voice respectful when he said her name.
"Must you invade my private rooms?"
Oh, the venom in those words could have cut a lesser Elf down, breaking him utterly. Haldir knew her too long to be fooled by the anger. Still, it pained Haldir to hear it, and he only managed to keep the pain from his voice as he said tenderly, "If you will not speak what is on your mind, then I am afraid I must."
"Well, what is it?" Her words were cool, but her tone was deep, darker than the night sky over the Misty Mountains in winter. She had not turned from the window, her eyes gazing outward. That hurt more than anything else, that she would not even look at him directly.
"Will you not look at me, Galadriel?" He kept his tone even, somehow managing not to beg, and still determined to continue the conversation, even if she would not.
When she admitted that she could not look at him for fear, his voice choked in his throat. He knew then the depth of her love for him, and he could sense what she thought, feel the pain of longing within her. He stepped towards her, put his hands on her shoulders, her skin cool beneath the soft fabric of her gown. He could smell the garden scent of her hair, and he felt his own longing answer hers.
"I am still Haldir, Galadriel. I have not changed."
She shuddered and he realized suddenly that which she feared most. That he had not changed, that he was still the bold Warden who had dared answer Celeborns proposition so long ago, when he would have driven a wedge instead of build a family.
"I'm not taking him from you." He found himself whispering, praying that she would believe him. He would never take Celeborn from her. "He loves you."
When she bitterly told him that she believed that Celeborn was spending his nights with him, away from her, he was surprised, stunned even. Oh, Celeborn, you fool. How could you let her think that we were shutting her out?
"Have you not asked him why has not been with you?" Haldir asked as gently as he could, wanting to rush out and drag Celeborn in, to make him explain everything.
"How can I? He never says more than a word to me, Haldir! I thought...I think.. He's in love with you and doesn't know how to tell me that his heart has changed."

As if Celeborn's heart could ever change! It was as constant as the mallorn trees of Lothlorien, as stolid as the bulk of Caradhras in the distance! Oh, blessed Galadriel, how we have wronged you that you should think he would love you no longer! Haldir assured her as best he could, murmuring the words that came to his mind as he squeezed her fingers in his own, wishing that he could warm them with his very touch. "You are his heart and soul."
"Then why does he not show it?"
Silver edged tears welled in her eyes and threatened to overflow and he held her hands more tightly for a second before hearing the faintest tread at the door. "Ask him."
"Yes." And Celeborn's voice was stronger now, bolder, "Ask me, melleth."
Haldir released her hands and stepped back. This moment had to belong to them, to each other. He was once again, as so often in their relationship, merely a bystander, graced with rare moments of their affection. Their eyes met and he could not see what passed between them, but knew that the words they spoke aloud were only the smallest portion of the words their hearts were saying.
Tears flowed over, and Haldir looked away until Celeborn's words called him.
"I was afraid you would not want me, melleth nin."
"Whatever could make me not want you? Because you love Haldir? I love him, too. Why have you shut me out?"
Celeborn's answer was soft, hesitant, and Haldir felt his heart beat faster and his fists clenched as he knew the moment was come at last. It was time to tell her the truth.
"I knew if I dared hold you, you would know. And I did not know how to tell you."
"What have you done? Melleth? Haldir?
When she loooked straight at him, Haldir felt the shame flush through him, but he was not going to back down now. He ignored Celeborn's choked sound as he tried to force the words out. No. This was his doing. No one had ever called Haldir O'Lorien a coward before and they were not going to do after today, either. "Galadriel, I am afraid that I..."
Oh, it was hard to make the words come out, and he dragged in a sharp breath that hurt his lungs before finishing, "I have impregnated your husband."
He saw the blow coming and could easily have avoided it. He took it full on the cheek, hard enough to rock his head back, hard enough to bruise. He centered himself and waited for another. "I deserved that."
She'd turned on Celeborn in tirade. If it hadn't been so serious, so dire, he would have laughed outright as she stormed at him. The rant was less funny when she directed it at him. Still, it was no more than they deserved, and far better than Haldir had been expecting, although his cheek still stung. 'You're just lucky that she didn't have you publically flogged.' a voice in the back of his mind reminded him.
And then she was in Celeborn's arms, where she belonged, welcoming their infant into the world and reaching for Haldir, pulling him to them and forcing them to promise that they would never leave her, no matter what.
In the end, she had left them, with their promise to join her as soon as they could. It had nearly broken both of their hearts, even though they knew that it was only a matter of time before they could be together again. But their daughter was still young and she was working with Prince Legolas in Ithilien, undoing the long darkness that had lingered there.
When her work was done, and all was settled in the Elven realms, then they would all take ship together. Until then, there was much still to see and to do.
Haldir placed his hand on Celeborn's shoulder, reminding him that it would not be long before they were once more in her arms. He had donned his dress armor to see her off, the scent of citrus oil clinging to it as he held Celeborn near him.
"I miss her already." Celeborn had whispered, and Haldir could only wrap his arms around his love, surrounding them both in the rich warmth of citrus under the rising sun.
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A Familiar Longing