Title: You Will Find Joy

Author: Efia-an

Rating: M

Summary: This story is going to be in two or perhaps three parts (that's yet to be determined). As a whole, it is an epic tale covering hundreds of years, starting with Haldir's first visit to Mirkwood where he falls quite suddenly and deeply in love with Legolas. Can the prince return his feelings, despite his father's terrible homophobia? Or years later when war threatens will duty to Middle-earth and Legolas's unspoken feelings for Aragorn rip them apart? This story occurs before and concurrent to the events of The Lord of the Rings. This story contains SLASH.

Pairings: Haldir/Legolas, Aragorn/Arwen, and implied Legolas/Aragorn in later chapters.

Warnings: This story may contain some elements of AU as is needed for the story to flow, but it will follow the books and/or movies fairly closely. It also contains SLASH. If you have a problem with this, please push your back button now. That's why it was invented. You read this of your own free will (unless someone is holding you down and torturing you into submission; if that is the case, I suggest you have larger worries to deal with than my pairings). Also, while there is plenty of good and happy stuff in this story, I am but a slave to bittersweet or even occasionally tragic. Not all my work has one or both of these elements, but this particular story does. (But if you've seen the movies, you also should see some of what is coming! Blame Peter Jackson, not me, if you have a problem with Haldir's death!) If this does not appeal to you, I suggest you find some other story to read; I would argue, however, that this story does end happily (or bittersweetly, depending on your view). You have been warned.

Disclaimer: While I wish I could claim any of The Lord of the Rings for my own, that is sadly not the case. I own none of the characters created by J.R.R. Tolkien. They are legally owned by Tolkien and his estate and to Peter Jackson, et al.

A/N: This story overlaps with the timeline of The Hobbit and The Lord of the Rings. I've taken the liberty of combining elements of both the books and the movies to suit my needs, so please be aware of that. Primarily I follow the books, but Haldir and the elves do show up at Helm's Deep as in the movie. There may be some other minor adaptations, but that is the main one you must be aware of.

One final note: Reviews are fine, whether they are of encouragement or constructive criticism (I am sure there are many of you who are much more familiar with these books and movies than I am; I will gladly accept any corrections of mistakes I may make), but NO FLAMES are allowed. I suggest that if you have nothing better to do with your life than to flame other people's work, you need a new hobby. They will not be welcomed here.

And now, finally (and the crowds cheer), on to the story:

It was a fine day for being out on the water. The sun was high in the cloudless sky above them and a slight breeze tickled the necks of the River Folk who were out enjoying the day. Déagol looked sunward and inhaled a deep breath of air, allowing it to fill his lungs and his entire body with a sense of well being. A perfect day. A day when the line between the possible and impossible seemed to vanish and only the limits of imagination would confine the extraordinary. Today was a day for adventures to happen, if they were to happen at all. Exhaling grandly, Déagol started to shout out to Sméagol on the shore but just then a rather strong tug on his fishing line surprised him. "Hey! Hey!" he called loudly. "I think I got one!"

Looking up from his burrowing, Sméagol was just in time to see his friend pulled forcibly from the boat and with a large splash that sent water streaming up onto the shore, Déagol disappeared from sight. A bird chirped high overhead and the world seemed to pause, waiting for something to happen. A moment later he saw Déagol reemerge, his hand clenched in a fist. After swimming to shore, he crawled up on the bank and slowly opened his hand. Unable to see what it was that his companion had in his hand, Sméagol crept up behind his friend. A ring lay there, unmarked yet perfectly round and shining golden in the sun. It filled Sméagol's senses so that he felt fit to burst. An overpowering urge to claim that ring for himself came over him.

"Give us that, Déagol, my love," Sméagol half-whispered in his ear, startling Déagol out of his reverence, for he had no thought of the existence of anything else but the ring.

"Why?" asked Déagol defiantly.

"Because it's my birthday, my love, and I wants it."

"I don't care," replied Déagol. "I have given you a present already, more than I could afford. I found this, and I'm going to keep it."

"Oh, are you indeed, my love," answered Sméagol with hauteur and loathing in his voice. Without thinking, without hesitation or remorse, he wrapped his long fingers around his friend's throat until he felt the life leave him. Prying open the protective fist that Déagol had once more clenched Sméagol took the ring. Caressing it lovingly he slipped it on his finger and disappeared from sight.

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The sun rose unusually early and bright the morning Haldir of the Galadrim first arrived at the castle of Thranduil in Mirkwood. Long had he traveled, seeking news of his kindred. A shadow had fallen in the north and whispered stirrings of an Enemy had come to his people in Lothlórien. As one of the few of his kind who spoke the Common Tongue, he had been chosen by the Lord and Lady of the wood as one of only a half dozen to go abroad, bringing word of the outside world back to their land. With him traveled his two brothers Rúmil and Orophin who, while unfamiliar with the Common Tongue, were among the most trusted of Haldir's companions. By the time Haldir reached Mirkwood, he had been away from home for nearly a year, first traveling south through the Gap of Rohan and then north along the Greenway to learn of his kin in the north before heading east towards Rivendell.

Rivendell had been a welcome reprieve from the road. The waters that ran through the land were cool and crisp, laughing merrily as they danced across the riverbed. The land was green and alive and a sense of deep contentedness could be felt in the trees. As much as Haldir enjoyed being out in the world, he embraced the cleansing that Rivendell afforded him. All the toils of the road and uneasiness of Eriador seemed to fall off him once he entered Elrond Half-elven's domain. There he found welcome surrounding him in the trees and coming up from the very earth beneath and sky above him.

Elrond, too, was glad to see him, and his reception into his house was gladly received. Four months he stayed, renewing his friendship with Elrond and Arwen Evenstar. Long had it been since he had last seen Arwen; not since her visit to Lórien many years prior. Longer still was it that Haldir had seen Elrond, for as much as Haldir enjoyed visiting Rivendell, he enjoyed being with his own Galadhrim amidst the mallorn trees even more. Nothing tasted as sweet as one's own home, although visiting among long-absent friends was almost as rewarding. So when at last it came time to depart, he bid his friends a fond farewell with a promise to return soon.

Haldir admitted freely to himself that perhaps the reason he tarried so long in Rivendell was less to do with spending time with his kin and more to do with a great deal of reluctance towards crossing over the mountain pass and into the less hospitable land of Mirkwood. For here orcs and giant spiders and other dark creatures lived which never entered his land. And while Haldir, marchwarden of Lothlórien, was indeed a seasoned warrior, he had no desire to encounter such foes with so few in his party. Additionally, he did not hope for warm reception into this land where his kindred were isolated in so dark a region.

True to his suspicions, the first of the Mirkwood Elves that Haldir met were in fact on sentry duty. Upon recognizing their own, however, the guards' wary aggression soon turned to welcome. For this Haldir was deeply gratified, and upon learning of Haldir's journey the guards quickly arranged for an armed escort to take him and his two companions to the cavernous castle of Thranduil. There he had opportunity to wash the stain of travel away before coming before King Thranduil.

"Welcome, Haldir of the Galadhrim." Thranduil greeted his guest formally. "It is a great honor that you grace us with your presence. I hope all is well with Lord Celeborn and Lady Galadriel as well as the rest of your people."

Haldir bowed. "I thank you for your kind words of welcome and am pleased to inform you that all is well in Lórien. My Lord and Lady send their greetings to you as well." He replied in equal civility.

"What brings you so far north to seek an audience with me?" questioned Thranduil. "Long has it been since we have received visitors from your fair land."

Haldir smiled. "It is indeed too long since our people have sat together. And for this reason I have been sent: to learn of our kindred and hear news directly of these lands that hitherto have come to us only as rumors. I have traveled far, both in the land of Men and of Elves, to learn firsthand the fates of these peoples. There are whisperings of a great evil growing in the east and a shadow falling once again over Dol Guldur. It is time we reestablish the ties between our two lands and renew our friendship."

At this, Thranduil dropped all courtly formalities. Clasping Haldir firmly on the shoulder he broke out into a sad yet hospitable smile. "Haldir, you are most welcome here. There is much indeed to discuss and I would hear you tell of your travels. But come. We will sit together and discuss many things in the coming days. Right now, however, feel free to relax from your journey. Our realm is open to you, though I would not stray far from this castle, especially at night and alone. But it is early yet; perhaps being new to this land you would like a tour?"

Without waiting for a response Thranduil summoned an Elf who was standing in the corner. Introducing Haldir to his escort he said, "This is Meldiron. He would be pleased to take you through our land and to show you wherever else you would like to visit. You shall return this evening, however, for a welcoming feast for you and your companions."

Haldir acknowledged this with a gracious bow and some wonder at this announcement. While he was a messenger of Lothlórien, he never expected to be treated with such novelty by his own kind. Not wanting to sound ungrateful, Haldir was careful choosing his next words. "My lord, we are most gratified by such a generous offer and we thank you for it. However, a feast is unnecessary. We come only to renew our ties with you and your people."

Thranduil smiled at Haldir. "And what better way to start than a great banquet? I assure you, it will be a joyous time for all." Before Haldir could object, Thranduil pressed on. "Come. Tonight we will meet again as friends and we can speak again then. Until then, I hope you enjoy seeing more of our lands." With that, he motioned for Meldiron to escort Haldir out of his throne room. "Farewell for now, Haldir of Lothlórien."

And with Thranduil's words still ringing in his ears, Haldir left with Meldiron to get his first real exposure to the elven lands of Mirkwood.

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Later that evening as he was getting ready for the welcoming feast, Haldir reflected on his day. Mirkwood was not quite what he expected. Long had he heard tales of the darkness that clung to the forest like a living shroud, and while he knew that wood elves did in fact live there, he somehow did not expect the Elvenking's realm to be as fair as it was. 'Nay, not fair,' he corrected himself mentally, 'just not as ominous.' Indeed Mirkwood was gloomy night to Lothlórien's golden day, and Haldir had no desire to explore the forest beyond the area that the Elves inhabited; but no place, not even Mirkwood, could be entirely evil so long as the Elves still lived there. Beyond the range of the healing presence of his kin, however, Mirkwood was truly a sinister place. He could see the shadow hanging over Dol Guldur even from his own lands and he felt the oppression that only evil can bring as he passed through Mirkwood on his journey through the forest. The anger and suspicion of the trees was practically tangible and unwelcoming even to the Elf, for he was unknown to them.

Haldir shuddered at the memory. While the mistrust of all things that walked about on two legs was still present even within Thranduil's kingdom, Haldir also felt the underlying peace that his people had brought to the land. Still, he knew of the dangers that still lurked in the area. Thank Eru for his mercy in placing Haldir in the Laurelindórinan with the Lord and Lady Celborn and Galadriel! He never felt as truly blessed as he did in that moment. Let the Mirkwood Elves keep their kingdom and their stories of Lothlórien that would never do it justice (even in their fair tongue); Haldir for one could imagine no earthly reason for him to linger in this place for longer than was absolutely necessary to complete his mission.

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The Upper Hall where the feast was to be held was bright with the evanescent glow of elvish lanterns that danced upon the walls, illuminating the mithril that was imbedded therein. Such ornamentation filled the room with a sense of being out under a night sky bejeweled with millions of stars which twinkled brightly. In this setting Haldir almost felt as though the air was fresh and full of green and growing things. It would never be the same as being out of doors, of course, but thanks in large part to the long ago and nearly forgotten mining of the Dwarves, the Elves had managed to create in their caves a feeling of homeliness in the depths of the earth.

In the front of the room was a long table draped in the finest fabric the Elves could produce. It shimmered grey and silver in the glow of the room and upon it were set many covered silver platters of varying sizes that gleamed in the ethereal light. Throughout the rest of the room, smaller tables were scattered bedecked in a similar fashion. All in all, it had the appearence of a long planned, greatly anticipated event. Haldir was amazed that so grand a reception was prepared for them and in so short a time.

"Haldir!" a glad voice called from behind. Turning, Haldir saw King Thrandiul standing a few paces off with his arms stretched open in welcome, his smile reaching to his eyes. "Welcome! Rúmil, Orophin, I bid you all welcome! Come, sit at my table and dine with us." Beckoning to his servants, he motioned to them to escort Haldir and his brothers to their places.

Haldir found himself ushered to a seat between Orophin and another Elf he did not know. There were five seats on each side of the table with Thranduil at the head. At the other end of the table another place setting was set, but there was no one present to claim that seat.

"Welcome, all, to this feast!" Thranduil spread his arms wide, somehow encompassing the entire room and all who were gathered there. "Before we begin, I would like to offer a special welcome to our cousins from the south, Haldir, Rúmil, and Orophin from Lothlórien. They shall be staying with us over the course of the next month or two. I bid you all to greet our honored guests and help them feel at home here. But I will not keep you waiting any longer, for our kitchen staff has outdone themselves on this repast. Please, sit!" With that final word, Thranduil himself sat down. The other Elves in the room followed suit. Presently the platters were unveiled to reveal rich meats, colorful fruits and vegetables, and many different types of bread. 'Apparently even in this dark wood the Elves are able to coax beauty from their gardens.' Haldir thought to himself, feeling mildly amused. His thoughts were interrupted, however, by the Elf sitting at his right hand.

"Greetings," he said to Haldir, "My name is Daugion. Welcome to Mirkwood."

Haldir returned Daugion's greeting. "Thank you. The hospitality we have been shown so far has exceeded any expectations I might have had. Your welcome is keenly felt and deeply appreciated."

For a fleeting moment Haldir thought he saw a shadow darken Daugion's brow, but certainly he must have been mistaken for the other Elf's face lit up at Haldir's words. "Thank you," he replied. "We do not receive many visitors here. Once in a while we have a Ranger come through, but other than we do not entertain much. While we do enjoy news of the outside world, seldom do we see others of our own kind. Occasionally we receive messengers from Rivendell, but it has been a little while since the last one left. I understand you have just come from there."

' Ah,' thought Haldir to himself, 'that explains much. No wonder we were greeted so extravagantly; they have little occasion to celebrate!' Aloud he responded to Daugion's implied question,"Yes we have. My Lady Galadriel desired news of her granddaughter, so we stayed several months there."

"Ah, and how is fair Arwen? I have met her but once many years ago, though the memory stays fresh in my mind. Her beauty alone would cause me never to forget her, but her kindness lingers with me to this day."

"She is well," replied Haldir, "as is Lord Elrond. He was insistent that I send his greetings to the people of Mirkwood."

Daugion bowed his head slightly in acknowledgement. "And how do you find Mirkwood?" he questioned curiously. "It is, I am sure, not quite like your lands."

Haldir barked out an amused laugh. "No, indeed it is not. But it has its own dark beauty." He paused for a moment, trying to form his next words carefully so as not to create accidental insult to his newfound friend. "I have heard tales of this land, of course, and while I would personally not choose to live here, I am glad of the opportunity to visit and learn firsthand what life here is like. It may well prove different from all our tales in Lórien."

"Yes, I understand your meaning," answered Daugion, smiling. "It is a dark place to be sure and while we must always be on guard against what lurks here, Mirkwood is filled with its own rewards. During your stay I certainly hope you learn some of them."

"Indeed," smiled Haldir, feeling the sentiment residing deep within him. "I certainly hope so too."

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After the feasting was over the tables were cleared by the servants while the dinner party retired to a neighboring hall. A roaring fire had been set in the oversized stone fireplace which cast its warm glow over the entire room. While not as grand as the hall they had just left, Haldir found it to be quite comfortable, even cozy. There more Elves had already gathered, talking amongst themselves in small groups. Walking with Haldir Daugion pointed out several Elves who were in the same guard as he was.

"There, standing closest to the fireplace is Gondien. The one standing with him is Revion. He is one you might find interesting to talk with; he too often journeys beyond our borders. Only recently is he returned to Mirkwood after having spent some months in the South. I will have to introduce you at some point during your stay." Daugion said. Redirecting Haldir's attention to the other side of the room he started pointing out several more of his companions. Momentarily later, however, he was interrupted by the sound of otherworldly singing.

Leaning close to Haldir's ear Daugion said in a low voice as not to disturb the surrounding Elves, "Ah, and here is a real treat. Menelwen has chosen to begin the evening. It is said her voice could call the stars from their heavens in order to dance here on Arda amongst the twilit gardens bedecked with dew. We have not heard from her in a long while."

Haldir nodded. Already he was entranced. Never before had he heard such beauty in music. Her song wrapped her arms around him in a sweet embrace, holding him so close that he felt as if he could spend eternity lost in her music. Daugion seeing Haldir's wistful contentment smiled to himself and stepped back. Haldir did not notice. All he was aware of was the feel of the open air upon his cheek and the warm sunlight streaming down upon his head; the enchantment of her song.

Although Menelwen sang for many long minutes the song ended far too soon and Haldir suddenly felt almost cool, as if he had entered an unlit room after standing outside on a summer's day. Slowly he became aware of his surroundings once more as another singer started his song. Looking about him he saw a new Elf had discretely entered the room while he and the rest of the company there gathered were under Menelwen's spell. The Elf had his face turned away from Haldir, but something about him felt familiar, as if he had somehow known the other Elf from another lifetime.

As if the other Elf sensed Haldir's thoughts he turned and looked his way. In that moment Haldir was struck with an inability to speak. The room about him seemed to fade into the background and he could not help but stare. There before him was the most beautiful creature he had ever beheld: fairer than any other Elf that currently lived with eyes that seemed to reflect the inner light of the dancing fire and golden hair that captured all the warmth held in Middle-earth. Haldir felt as if all loveliness that ever was and ever would be were concentrated and was radiating from the bewitching Elf.

Unable to draw his gaze away from the Elf Haldir nudged the air near Daugion, unaware that he was missing his mark entirely. "Who is that new Elf, the one standing with Gondien and Revion?" he questioned hazily.

Daugion, seeing the transfixed wonder on Haldir's face, redirected his attention to the Elf in question. Had Haldir eyes for anyone else in the room he might have once again noticed the fleeting shadow darken his friend's face before he answered, but as it was he took no notice.

"That," Daugion responded, "is Legolas Thranduilion, prince of Mirkwood."

As if the sound of Daugion's voice suddenly roused him, Haldir felt a tingle that started in his toes and rushed to the top of his head. A roaring cacophony as of many rivers filled his ears and a heightened sense of awareness made him conscious that he was openly gawking. Quickly adverting his eyes, he turned his focus once more upon the singer, still aware of the beautiful Elf standing in the corner.

"Legolas…" Haldir breathed to himself, feeling like spring was taking root deep within his heart. This trip to Mirkwood if not already worthwhile had suddenly become even more so; having looked upon that which was most fair Haldir knew his life was never to be the same again.

To be continued…

A/N: The dialogue between Sméagol and Déagol at the beginning of the chapter is taken word for word from The Fellowship of the Ring and belongs solely to Tolkien and his estate.

Also, in case you were wondering about the names given: Meldiron means "friend," Daugion means "of the army," Gondien means "a rock," Revion means "to wander," and Menelwen means "heavenly."