Unattainable

Rating: M15+/R/NC17

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the recognisable characters. They are the property of the Tolkien Estate and New Line Cinema – as are the places. No profit is being made and this is purely for (sick) entertainment.

Warnings: Um, yup. This story contains male/male content (Haldir/Legolas). PWP. It does get a little graphic, but there is no actual SEX scene... which doesn't mean it still isn't sort of bad. You've been forewarned. There is some violence and attempted rape, I guess – just read and find out. ;-) It's also extremely long and boring, not to mention a tad repetitive-okay, EXTREMELY repetitive. It is also AU and movie-verse, meaning that it is based on the FILM and not the book. Oh, no! :O Haldir lives in the book (as a matter of fact, no elven reinforcements go to aid Helm's Deep because they cannot realistically get there in time), but I chose to write this in accordance with the film. Sue me. (Please don't-there's a reason I included a disclaimer! See? Let's love, not hate)

Synopsis: During the Fellowship's monthly stay in Lothlórien, Haldir has impure intentions to take advantage of their brief guests.

A/N: I actually WANTED to write this one, because the idea struck me as sort of interesting. I don't really know... I think I just wanted a reason to gush over Legolas and this provided me with an excuse. Hehe. Deal with it. This was written half a year ago, and I just found it on my hard drive after forgetting about it. I thought I'd upload it. I apologise for any mistakes or mistaken facts, but I tried my hardest to research the correct dates and edit it. Please enjoy.

January 17, 3019 (Third Age), Lothlórien [Movie-verse]

The lament for Gandalf had carried long into the night, but had eventually faded until it was but a haunting tone within their minds. The Fellowship had listened and marvelled at the foreign language, remembering the wizard for who he was. They all missed him.

Their stay in Lothlórien was going to be brief. They still had a mission to accomplish and it was clear their being here was not looked upon fondly by all. They carried with them a great danger and, despite the kind hospitality of the lord and lady, they knew they could not tarry. Even so, the respite was appreciated by them all. It was rare that no one be forced to keep watch over the camp as the others rested or that they be allowed full meals without the constant concern of approaching enemies. The border-guards would alert them to any potential threats ahead of time here.

The hobbits had slipped quietly into slumber, stomachs full and hearts heavy. They had shed their grief and were exhausted, falling into undisturbed sleep. The others had done likewise and all was silent within the Golden Wood. Not a bough stirred as the occupants rested.

The haven of Lothlórien hemmed them in comfortably and shielded the outside world so that even the passing of time was not accurately tracked with the mind. It was relaxing and tranquil, though danger could follow them at any moment.

The Fellowship slept through the night with no difficulty, not a member stirring until dawn came upon them. Aragorn was the first to awaken and lifted himself from the ground.

The human stretched upwards and shook the morning stiffness from his body as he ran a hand through his hair and shook the locks about his face. He smiled around at the beautiful forest and turned, seeing Legolas awake across the glade.

"Good morning," he greeted the elf with a smile borne of a good night's sleep.

Legolas tipped his head in acknowledgement of the words as he combed out his curtains of blonde hair. The elf prince was brushing his fine utensil through the golden strands, spilling them over his shoulders as he sat by his weapons.

"Is Gimli awake?" Aragorn asked after a moment of watching Legolas, approaching him.

"The dwarf slumbers on," Legolas returned in his musical voice, slender fingers now working at his hair. They twisted the strands elegantly and agilely into small warrior braids, holding back the main body of the golden mane so that it was kept off of his face. "I will wake him in a moment, for we agreed last night to take a walk through the wood of Lothlórien."

Aragorn smiled and nodded, glad to see that the two would have time to spend on their own. Their bond was strained and tentative and any interaction could help forge something akin to a friendship. "Good," he agreed. "I will probably stay around here and simply rest."

"Or perhaps indulge in a bath, Estel?" Legolas suggested with the slightest hint of playful humour, eyes flickering up to the man's face.

"Are you suggesting something?" Aragorn asked bitterly, glaring down at the elf.

"It was but a suggestion, mellon nín," Legolas replied in a calm tone of voice, not betraying his amusement.

Having finished with his hair, he pulled on his fine leather boots and stood quickly. It felt foreign to not make for his quiver, bow and knives; he did not need them constantly equipped here and that sense of safety was almost strange. "I will rouse the dwarf."

Aragorn nodded and took a step back as Legolas crossed in front of him and approached the sleeping son of Gloin. The human watched, interested, as the prince of Mirkwood stooped beside the shorter creature.

The pair were in sharp contrast to one another. Legolas was tall and slender, slight frame disguising his strength. His golden hair shone in the daylight and his fair features made him unerringly beautiful. Gimli, in the respect of the dwarves, was short and bulky. He proudly displayed the strength and muscles of his heritage, able to wield a heavy war-axe with deadly precision. His brown, tangled beard obscured the lower half of his face and matched the curled fluff atop his head, rarely seen under his helmet.

The golden elf reached out a hand and laid it upon the dwarf's shoulder. "Gimli," he spoke softly, lips quirking upon the lack of reaction. He shook the smaller being with force and increased the volume of his voice. "Come, dwarf! Were there yrch within proximity, they would indulge in your capture! Awaken!"

Gimli started at the elven voice, loud beside his ear. His eyes shot open and he glared up at Legolas, rolling into a seated position. "What are you harping about, damned elf?" He mumbled groggily, focusing his vision.

The son of Thranduil laughed lightly and straightened, taking a step back. His mirth only further ignited Gimli's irritation and the physical proof of that simply made to amuse the wood-elf even more. "Did you not agree to a walk, accursed dwarf?"

Gimli straightened slowly and ran a hand across his face, fingers clearing the residue from his eyes. Scowling, he turned on the jovial blonde and crossed his arms. "What be the time then, master elf?"

"It is dawn, master dwarf," Legolas replied easily. "Ready yourself."

Gimli scowled again, but did as he was bid. He pulled his hardy footwear on and left his axe by his helmet, seeing no need for either. He did not hesitate to spare Aragorn a glare, too, as the man made known his amusement by chuckling quietly.

"Do not be long," the ranger reminded them both gently. "Meals will be prepared soon and I would not have you miss them."

"I am well aware, Estel," Legolas returned in a patient tone of voice, despite the mother-hen nature of his human friend. He knew part of it was due to what had happened within the dark hell of Moria. Gandalf had been their leader and with him gone, naturally, responsibility seemed to have been taken on by Aragorn. No one had asked it of him, but he was accepting it as his duty to hold the grief-stricken group together.

Lothlórien eased their minds, though, and there was no need for strict guidance here.

"Then enjoy yourselves," Aragorn smiled and waved them off with a small hand gesture, delighting in Gimli's third scowl.

The fair-haired elf led the way into the trees and looked back for Gimli, urging him on with a gesture. "Come, Gimli, lest we get nowhere fast."

"We do not all have elf legs, you know!" Gimli shot back and hurried to keep pace with the taller creature. He was amazed by the forest, though his natural habitat was underground and within the mountains. Lothlórien truly was an awe-inspiring place to behold.

Legolas's lilted laugh carried beautifully through the trees and he smiled, content with the forest he found himself in. It was so much better than the mines of Moria and he shuddered to recount the events that had occurred within. "The beauty of Lothlórien has not changed since last I was here," he broke through the silence that had fallen. "I was but an elfling and travelled here with my mother. It was long ago."

Through a previous conversation, Gimli knew the elf beside him was 2931 years old and was still considered young by his people's standards. He also knew the grievous tale of the queen of Mirkwood and decided it would be safer for him to simply nod, rather than comment. He did not want to cause offence with a careless response.

"It reminds me of what Mirkwood was like in her glory," the elf prince continued after no reply was forthcoming. "For it was not always named Mirkwood, you know. Her former name was Greenwood the Great, known for her shining leaves and singing trees."

"What happened?" Gimli questioned, feeling the tension ease as the topic slowly changed.

"Sauron, though we did not know it at the time, took up residence in Dol Guldur close to the year 1050," Legolas started the story in a tone that suggested he knew it well. "In man's tongue, it translates to 'Hill of Sorcery' and it was his stronghold."

"Sauron?" Gimli sounded shocked, though his question was rhetorical as he knew the elf did not lie.

Still, Legolas nodded. "The elves knew him only as the Necromancer. They were unaware of his true identity at the time and were furious at the darkness he was causing south of our realm and east of our current location. It lies but across the Anduin, visible from Cerin Amroth here, in the heart of Lothlórien. The Necromancer's dark tricks and foul magic soon initiated the corruption of Greenwood and it was not long before spiders and orcs became familiar."

"Sauron was in your forest and you did not realise it?" Gimli shook his head.

The elf prince dismissed the comment with a dip of his golden head. "He controlled the Nazgûl, their reappearance triggering Mithrandir into action." There was a pause as he respected the passed wizard's name.

"Did Sauron confront him?" Gimli asked solemnly, knowing who it was they spoke of though the archer had referred to him in the tongue of the elves.

"He fled," Legolas looked at the dwarf. "When Mithrandir went to investigate, he made to the east and escaped him. He did return to Dol Guldur later, however, and Mithrandir forced him out again – recognising him that time. My people and the people of Lothlórien assisted and he was prepared to abandon the dark fortress. Now, our light is the only thing that prevents Mirkwood from sinking into utter darkness."

"Being here must then raise memories," Gimli commented casually, thinking how close Sauron had been to the elves. If only they had been able to kill him when driving him from their land.

Legolas merely nodded and offered a small smile. Never had he told that story to a dwarf and never had he wanted to, but saying what he had to Gimli did not feel peculiar. That, in itself, was queer and he wondered briefly at it.

They had travelled a ways from the glade now and the trees were becoming thicker as the lodgings the elves had made within the trees became rarer. "We should not travel too far to the border," Legolas warned as he came to a standstill. They had left their weapons, after all.

"Aye," Gimli agreed and veered off to the right, taking the lead as Legolas followed him easterly. "We can circle around and have a look from the other direction," he decided. "See how big this city is."

"It is quite large!" Legolas laughed softly and followed Gimli through the shining trees. "You will see."

They continued on in that direction for some time, occasionally bringing up brief topics of conversation that helped them to discover more about each other and their races. Their hostility had faded and neither one seemed to draw attention to that.

Gimli became aware as Legolas suddenly went rigid beside him and he drew to a halt, turning to the elf. The archer was tall and stiff, eyes scanning around the forest as he detected something with his keen hearing that the dwarf was unable to. Gimli was about to question the actions, before Legolas suddenly shook his head and sighed. "I am too familiar with the tension of constant guard," the elf looked to the dwarf. "My apologies, but we have company."

Before the smaller creature could ask whom, the Marchwarden who had greeted them at the borders of Lothlórien dropped from a tree to their left and hailed them, looking amused at the fact he had been detected. His attire was different to that which the Mirkwood prince wore, but the fabric was still light and snug for agile movement.

"Mae govannen, Legolas Thranduilion," Haldir greeted the prince in the same manner he had upon their arrival.

Legolas repeated the phrase with Haldir's name in place of his own. "Are you patrolling?"

Haldir shook his head, blonde hair loose around his shoulders, where Legolas' was tied in the fashion of the wood-elves. "I was merely resting when I heard you both approach."

Legolas knew that when he said 'heard you both,' he was referring only to Gimli and offered a weak smile. "We are enjoying the beauty of your wood, Haldir of Lórien. Would you like to join us on our walk?"

Haldir smiled and inclined his head. "I am familiar with this wood, Legolas," he gently rejected the offer, though partly out of not desiring the company the prince travelled with.

"Then, I hope we can talk later," Legolas politely accepted the dismissal of his courtesy. He had received a sudden cold chill from Haldir, though it had faded after a second, and he was not sure what to make of it.

Haldir nodded his assent to the words and studied Legolas for a moment, eyes roaming over the elf prince's face and features. "I would like to speak with you later in private."

The archer's brows met in a gentle frown that he quickly discarded, nodding. He did not want to offend the hospitality of their hosts. "Of course. Shall I come to your flet?"

Haldir nodded, giving his permission for Legolas to come to his dwelling. He seemed pleased by the response and his lips pulled tightly in a satisfied smirk. "After supper, if you would. I have something I wish to discuss with you."

Legolas wondered at what the captain could possibly want to discuss with him, but did not bother questioning it. It was obviously a private matter and he would find out in due time. Elves were patient creatures.

"I apologise for interrupting you," Haldir said politely. "I was only curious as to who was in the area. Please continue."

"You need not apologise," Legolas shook it off and turned. He bid farewell to the Marchwarden and continued on in the direction they had been going earlier. Gimli threw a slightly cautious look at the Lórien elf as he followed Legolas through the trees, deciding it had been best to hold his tongue through the exchange. He had not gotten along well with Haldir upon entering the wood.

He hurried to catch up to the elf who was quickly becoming his friend and did not look backwards, easing back into the casual talk they had been swapping prior to Haldir's presence.

XXXXXXX

Haldir turned on his heel as the pair disappeared through the underbrush of the forest and returned to the tree he had been occupying before heading to see who drew near. He was pleased with the progress he had made through that simple and brief conversation.

Ever since Legolas had been an elfling, he had had his carnal sights on the pretty elf. The only son of King Thranduil was indeed a prize. He was beautiful and slender, fair and intelligent. He was also a prince, which was something Haldir had never owned before. He had grown into a beauty indescribable with words. The archer was fine and his features were sharp, his body betraying the strength he possessed. His slight, slender frame and long legs only made to tease those that could not have him. How he longed to caress the high cheekbones and witness those intense eyes dilate with passion.

To own the prince of Mirkwood was a challenge that he would rise to meet eagerly. Legolas was innocently unaware of the lust within the Marchwarden's heart, but Haldir preferred it that way until he was in a dominant position. He did not want to risk the Silvan elf rejecting him and would ensure such a thing did not happen.

It would not be easy, as Legolas was a skilled warrior and was smart. He would need to be tactful in his approach, for he did not know the young elf's heart. If Legolas denied him, he would need to make sure those protests were efficiently rid of. The prince would be a trophy and he had the duration of the Fellowship's stay to win that prize for himself. As far as he was aware, Legolas had never taken a lover and he very much intended to solve that problem. No matter how it was accomplished.

To own a prince! Such a pretty elf, too... the thought was dark and primal. It also guided Haldir in his planning. Whilst Legolas was here, he would not be able to escape him. Of that, he was certain.

XXXXXXX

It was after dinner and the Fellowship was contented once again, stomachs full of warm meals. They had retreated back to the glade where they would sleep and were engaged in light conversation, unaware of the trouble that would plague them upon departing the wood. For now, they were relaxed.

"I must go and meet with Haldir," Legolas broke off the conversation he had been having with Aragorn and smiled apologetically. "He asked after me."

"Of course," Aragorn shook away the indirect apology and waved the elf toward the stairs with a movement of his hand. "Go, go. I will speak with you upon your return if it is before I take rest."

Legolas nodded and gracefully gained his feet, bidding farewell to the others as he left his companions and made for where he knew Haldir's flet to be. It was only a short distance away, up a flight of circular stairs and around the side of a tree. The lanterns lit up the dim area and splayed it in a beautiful radiance.

Legolas smiled at his surroundings, not for the first time, and approached the flapped entrance to the flet. "Haldir of Lórien?" He called in way of making his presence known.

There was silence for a brief moment before Haldir's voice emanated from inside. "Come in, Legolas!"

The prince moved forward and gently eased the flap aside, stepping silently into the interior of the flet. Within the area, it was lighter than outside. Haldir was seated on a small chair beside a desk, legs crossed as he stared at the entrance to his home.

As Legolas entered, he indicated the chair across from him in an invitation to sit. The blonde eased himself into it and threw his gaze about the flet, taking in the scarce objects that took up what room there was.

"You wished to speak with me?" Legolas was the first to address the reason for his visit, leaning back in the chair he was seated in and watching the elf across from him. Haldir always seemed so shrouded in mystery. He was difficult to read and gleam anything from, which was frustrating.

"It has been some time since a Mirkwood elf has been here, cousin," Haldir replied in a friendly tone of voice. "I was hoping we might simply enjoy one another's company."

"A personal summon, then?" Legolas questioned.

Haldir dipped his pale head in a nod. "Do not take offence, but I had no desire to endure the dwarf's company in order to converse with you. I was willing to wait and speak with you on your own, so we may be familiar."

Legolas knew Haldir, though not overly well. He had met him upon his visit here as a child but was not so 'familiar' as to name him a friend – more, an acquaintance. He found it odd that Haldir personally call him for mere chatter, considering they were near strangers.

"Do you enjoy Lothlórien, so far?" Haldir prompted conversation, eyes intently focused on the blue ones opposite him.

"Lothlórien's beauty cannot be sufficiently described with any language possessed to us," Legolas said in way of response. "Being here lightens the heart and radiates feelings of satisfaction. Resting here after our troubles is indeed relieving and I dread our departure, which must inevitably come."

"But not for some time," Haldir countered with a smile as he rested his elbow on the wood beside him. "We have granted you hospitality and you may take advantage of that for so long as you need it."

"Would it be want and not need that determined the length of our stay, I fear we would never depart," Legolas laughed and visibly relaxed, smiling back at Haldir.

The Marchwarden was internally mesmerised by the beauty of the other elf's voice and he was forced to action, laughing himself. "I was hoping, Legolas, that I might ask a favour in return for the hospitality my lord and lady have showed you."

The elf prince blinked once and that was his only sign of intrigue. "Of course," he said quickly, hastening to be polite.

Haldir slowly straightened from his chair and stepped to the side, circling around behind Legolas. The archer made to follow him, but he laid his hands on the slender shoulders and kept him in his seat.

"I remember the first time you were here," Haldir spoke quietly from behind the young prince, leaning closer to speak by his deliciously pointed ear. "You were with your mother; you were beautiful."

Legolas could not refrain from blushing lightly and frowned. "Le hannon," he murmured, not entirely sure what to make of the sudden compliment. He felt something in the air change and his senses go on high alert, like something was amiss.

Haldir ignored the awkward acknowledgement and breathed against the elf prince's slanted ear. "I knew you were but a child... and yet, I wanted you."

Legolas was taken aback by the husky confession in his ear. "Wanted me?" He repeated, elegant inquiry fleeing him as he mentally balked.

"Much like I want you now," Haldir murmured, tongue flicking out and sliding along the length of the blonde's ear.

It was all Legolas could do to suppress a gasp and a shudder, forcing his body's reaction down as he pushed against the hands holding him in place and stood. Turning to face Haldir, he stared at the Lórien elf. "What do you think you are doing, Haldir?"

Haldir stepped around the chair and moved closer to his prize. "Let me have you, Legolas. Let me have you like no other ever has."

The prince was visibly repulsed by the words and backed away, eyes narrowing as he suddenly realised the purpose for this summon. "You called me here to seduce me? I do not know you, Haldir! You know not if I have already even taken a lover!"

"There would have been word if you had," Haldir pressed forward and advanced on the slighter elf, smiling slowly as Legolas retreated to the back of the flet. There was only one entrance. "As King Thranduil's only son, it soon would have become popular knowledge. Come, Legolas... do you find me undesirable?"

"I am entirely uncomfortable with this situation," Legolas admitted, tone taking on a slight edge as his anger grew. "I am leaving."

Haldir did not say anything, but stopped as Legolas moved forward and past him. The prince strode towards the entrance to the flet, cautiously keeping an eye on Haldir as he approached the flap and pulled it back.

Before he could duck out, a hand tangled in his golden hair and ripped him backwards. He hissed between clenched teeth as he was dragged back into the flet and forced up against a well-muscled body, Haldir holding him from behind. The Marchwarden kept a hand in the golden hair for control, and wrapped another around Legolas' slim waist in an attempt to keep him still.

The elf prince instantly began struggling against the restraint. "Haldir! We are guests in your home!" He could not believe how this situation had come about and how a simple meeting had changed for the worst.

Haldir firmly held the elf still and yanked on Legolas' hair again, tilting his head skyward so that it rested on his left shoulder, continuously dodging flying elbows the entire time. "Then repay me for your staying here, Legolas."

Legolas knew Haldir was trying to force him into this and hated that he had been foolish enough to trust the elf. He had even left his weapons, believing he had nothing to fear from the Golden Wood. This betrayal had taken him entirely off-guard and he did not intend for Haldir to get away with it.

"Your lord and lady demanded no payment," Legolas argued, slamming an elbow backwards. He caught Haldir in the ribs and took advantage of the captain's loosened hold. He tore free and made a bolt straight for the door.

Haldir recovered quickly and lunged after him, catching the prince's feet. They both tumbled to the ground and fell in a heap of sprawled limbs and hair, Legolas kicking out against Haldir as the elf attempted to pin him on his stomach.

Deftly avoiding the strike, Haldir backpedalled and allowed Legolas the time he needed to regain his feet. "I demand payment, Legolas," he said cruelly, growing frustrated with this resistance.

"I will inform Lord Celeborn that you said thus!" Legolas threatened seriously, blue eyes narrowed into slits of ice. "What will he have to say on it, Haldir?"

"He will not know of this," the Marchwarden replied simply, advancing on the son of Thranduil again. "For I will ensure you are silenced."

"Do you realise the reaction of my father, along with your own lord and lady – not to mention the rest of the Fellowship – if you harm me?" Legolas continued to glare, though readied himself in a defensive position in case he needed to fight again.

"By the time I am through with you, Legolas, you will tell no one," Haldir remarked matter-of-factly. "I will grant you such pleasure... all you have to do is moan and beg while I entertain you. Let me make you scream, Legolas. Oh, yes; trust me, you will not tell a soul. Rather, you will want more."

"You are foul," Legolas spat, sickened by the words. "You speak of me as if I am a common whore! Have you no respect, Haldir?"

"It makes it all the more thrilling," Haldir smiled wickedly and drew closer still. "That you are a prince... reduced to a common whore..."

"Never," Legolas vowed, striking out at Haldir's face as the captain made a snatch for him. The Marchwarden's head snapped to the side as he fell away from the prince, momentarily stunned.

Legolas hit him in the gut to further stall him as he turned and made to get out of the horribly confined flet once again. However, the captain recovered as quickly as he had before and knocked Legolas' legs out from under him with a well-placed kick to the back of the knee.

The elf prince caught himself on his hands and knees and quickly turned to meet his assailant, only to be met with a boot to the side of his head. The blow to his temple shrouded his vision in darkness for a few seconds and he collapsed to the ground. A sickening wave of helpless nausea washed over him, draining the colour from his face.

Haldir did not require any more of an advantage than that and stooped, grabbing Legolas's limp arm as he dragged him back to his feet. He whirled him around and pinned his arms behind his back, drawing him against him. "Do not try to fight me, princeling."

"Unhand me," Legolas demanded, voice still slightly slurred as blood trickled from a small cut across his temple where the boot had cut.

Haldir twisted the trapped arms upwards, applying pressure to the joints in a manner which could end in dislocation, should Legolas struggle or the Lórien elf intensify the strain. "I will take you, Legolas. I will have you."

"I am not to be owned! I do not care for you, Haldir!" Legolas pulled against the grip, though stopped as his arms tweaked in a painful manner and bone grinded against joint unnaturally.

"You will!" Haldir hissed by the pointed ear and transferred both of Legolas' slender wrists to one hand. He held them tightly, inflicting deliberate pain, and reached around with his free hand to splay his fingers along the front of the prince's tunic.

Legolas glanced down at the fingers and struggled with his arms again, though felt one of his wrists groan under the force applied by the Marchwarden's strong fingers. He stilled and simmered silently, considering a way out of this.

Haldir caressed the tunic over Legolas's flat stomach before lowering his arm and playing with the ties on the blonde's leggings. He was anticipating what was to come and his total domination of the elf prince. He would reduce Thranduil's son to a writhing, screaming mess before this night was through.

Legolas closed his eyes and forced himself to understand that this was, in fact, happening. This was reality and he had to calmly figure a way out of it. He could not dwell on how this invasion affected him or just how far Haldir seemed to be willing to go; he had to get out of here and back to the Fellowship.

Haldir ran a fingertip along the waistband of the soft brown pants that enclosed Legolas in all his glory, hungrily breathing against the ear beside his mouth. "I will have you, mighty prince."

"You will not," Legolas promised again, refusing to look at Haldir and even acknowledge him as an equal adversary. "Let go of me, now."

Haldir ignored him and pulled against the ties of Legolas's pants, gently tugging them open so that the cool night air that entered the tent found its way straight to the elf prince's core, not that he could feel it as a human could. He placed a hand over the slender hip bone right of Legolas's crotch and breathed a throaty laugh. "You are mine."

The blonde fought to control his breathing and struggled once again, managing to dislodge the grip around his wrists slightly. It was not enough to break free, but it was enough to upset Haldir and he clenched down on the elven bone, grinding it together as way of punishment for the continued difficulty.

"I belong to no one," Legolas's voice was coated with a phenomenal amount of venom, though was still magical to the Marchwarden's ears.

"You are mine," Haldir repeated and squeezed the archer's wrists once again in silent reminder. He then placed his mouth to the side of Legolas's throat as his hand delved lower and slipped inside the open leggings.

Legolas went rigid and his breath left him, invasive fingers scraping over the most sacred and private part of his body. He struggled again and tried to escape the hand that brushed against his sex.

"Do not fight it, Legolas," Haldir chastised and wrapped his hand around the length of meat he had desired to caress for so long. "Give in to me."

"Nay!" Legolas pulled away, though did not get far. He thrashed wildly, needing to get away from Haldir and needing to do so now. This unwanted touch was not tolerable and he had to get away. It was his only coherent thought.

Haldir ignored the thrashing and held him still, dragging his hand along the meat in his hand. He ran his hand up Legolas's entire length, fingers spread around his girth. Once he reached the tip, he slid his had back down in a long, slow motion. He continued it thrice more, kissing at Legolas's sensitive ear.

The elf prince trembled ever so slightly and even that reaction urged Haldir on. He wanted to achieve more than a tremble and was willing to go to great lengths to do so. "Moan for me, Legolas," he whispered, caressing the helpless blonde's soft penis.

"No–" Legolas bit his tongue and cut himself off as his voice wavered. He hated this – everything about it. It did not stop his body's reactions to the stimulation, though, which were completely out of his control.

"You so eagerly go hard for me," Haldir remarked as he felt the cock in his hands stiffen slightly. "You cannot deny that you want this."

"I do not," Legolas gasped, finding it difficult to stand now. He wanted to get out of here and back to the Fellowship! Ai, he needed help.

"Moan for me," Haldir gripped the base of Legolas's length and tightened his hold, feeling it twitch beneath his talented fingers. Drawing his hand upwards again, he heard the archer utter a gasp. "Moan for me, Legolas."

The quiet demand was husky and guttural by his ear. His head fell back onto the Marchwarden's shoulder and his beautiful voice moaned in Haldir's ear. His traitorous body was not listening to him.

"Good princeling," Haldir rewarded him with a quick jerk of his hand and Legolas hissed air between his teeth. "Do it again... say my name."

"Let-... let me go!" Legolas was fighting to control himself. He could not believe the reaction already drawn from him and pulled against Haldir again, using all the strength he could find in his trembling body to pull away.

Haldir's grip was unrelenting, though, so he desperately threw his head back again and into Haldir's nose. The restraint on his arms suddenly disappeared as Haldir fell back and gingerly examined his injury with a gasp of pain.

Legolas wasted no time and tied his breeches back up, concealing his half-erect length. It angered him to realise his fingers were shaking. "How dare you!" He rounded on Haldir and hit him again, hating that he had been made to moan like a whore and had been placed in so helpless a position. Should his father ever hear of it, he would be so ashamed!

Haldir fell back and shook his head to clear it, returning the attack by hitting Legolas across the face. The prince did not falter and took the strike in stride, blood dripping from the corner of his mouth as he bit his tongue.

The archer then shoved Haldir backwards and sent him spiralling into the desk, hitting his thigh against the chair and knocking equipment flying. Ink poured over parchment and important words were lost as things fell across the floor.

"You will pay for that, Legolas!" Haldir angrily turned back on the elf prince, only to see that the dishevelled elf had made it halfway to the entrance. He pushed away from the desk and ran after him, though was not fast enough to stop his escape this time.

Legolas dived back down the stairs, long legs carrying him down them at a pace that no human could ever hope to rival. He could hear Haldir on his heels and that only quickened his steps; he could not be taken back there. He would not be faced with that again. That had been horrible.

"Legolas!" Haldir called after him, suddenly worried that Legolas might make it back to the Fellowship. The elf prince was faster than him and he could not hope to catch up before Aragorn and the others came into earshot.

Legolas ignored the call and continued to run, following his instincts rather than the knowledge he had of where the glade was situated. He needed to return to them; Haldir was persistent and he required aid. He knew he might have a fair shot at overpowering Haldir, but it was equally fair that he be defeated and then he stood even less chance.

He dare not even slow down in order to try and talk some sort of sense into the Marchwarden. He was past all sense and had resorted to forceful restraint to achieve his purpose. It also unnerved Legolas how he had reacted and he feared it going any further.

He could hear the chattering of the hobbits ahead and released a breath, crashing through and into the glade. All eyes turned to him as he slowed to a halt metres from where the Fellowship was still talking animatedly. None had retired, yet. All seven of his companions took in his shaken appearance and bloodied lip with surprised eyes.

"Legolas?" Aragorn was the first to speak, rising to his feet and moving closer to the elf. His eyes roamed over the lithe body, searching for injuries.

The elf prince seemed fine, apart from a split lip and cut to the temple. His tunic was slightly ruffled and his hair was not in its usual neatened state; strands hung about his face and clung to his forehead where a light sheen of sweat had gathered. Never had he seen his proud friend so unkempt.

A moment later, Haldir calmly entered the clearing and frowned gently. He had come from a different direction to Legolas to avoid suspicion and acted as if he had just happened upon the scene. "Prince Legolas? Is all well?"

The blonde stared around at them all and straightened, setting his proud shoulders and holding his head high. His face was the usual mask it always was, revealing nothing to his comrades. His eyes settled on Haldir for a moment and something akin to satisfaction flashed in their depths. His game was over. "You know perfectly well all is not well, Haldir."

Aragorn swapped his gaze between the two Firstborn and crossed his arms. Something was definitely wrong. "What has happened? What is going on?"

"I know not," Haldir feigned innocence and kept his gaze on the steely blue eyes of the prince. "Legolas, please tell us what has befallen you. If the Fellowship is under threat of any sort, you may have to move on. We cannot risk any of your wellbeing."

"Must we leave?" Frodo had quietly stood from where the four hobbits were enjoying Boromir's exaggerated tales and moved closer to the scene. Gimli and the captain of Gondor had also decreased their distance from their elven companion, curiosity provoked.

Haldir looked down his nose at the hobbit and wore a slightly regretful expression. "If Legolas has encountered a danger, then it might prove safer for you to be away from here. It depends on what has happened."

Legolas' eyes narrowed dangerously as he realised exactly what it was Haldir was doing. He drew no attention to it, but did not spare a glare for the Lórien elf. "We need not leave," he said quickly. Haldir was trying to silence him by bringing up the impacts of his assault; the Fellowship might have to leave if Haldir's lust could be proven to be uncontrollable and the Marchwarden knew all too well that the archer would not cause the reason for their departure. Especially since they all needed the reprieve.

"If danger lurks, then you must move on!" Haldir shook his head and stepped closer, expressing a false concern that twisted Legolas's stomach.

"Everything is fine!" Legolas snapped back, his anger getting the better of him. He quickly filed it away and shook his head in apology. He would play Haldir's game. There was no way he would risk them leaving after the trauma they were all dealing with; this rest was doing them all well. "All is well, kind Haldir. I was jumped by your brother, Orophin, on my way from your quarters. The wrestle was slightly unfair is all and my pride is damaged, though he did not win."

Haldir smiled at the cover story and it was not simply out of mere relief. "Ah, I do recall him mentioning his intentions to try and catch you off guard. Is that all it was?"

"He mentioned that you knew of it," Legolas said in answer. "It was why I met you with hostility. I am only tired; think nothing of it."

"Of course," Haldir shook it away and laid a hand on the prince's shoulder. He felt the body immediately tense under his touch and smiled again. "I am only glad nothing serious happened and that you are all right."

"Your concern is appreciated," Legolas forced his voice to be neutral and politely shrugged the hand away as he stepped around Aragorn and strode across the glade. He was aware of the eyes on him, but did not stop until he had reached his sleeping place. Sitting down, he removed his comb and set about making himself presentable in silence.

Aragorn followed his friend with his eyes, not exactly satisfied with what had been said. He knew Legolas well and was able to tell when the elf was hiding something. The prince had an endlessly irritating habit of hiding things that affected him, always claiming to be fine. It had taken some practice to read his so carefully concealed emotions.

"I do hope Orophin did not hurt him," he said to Haldir, trying next to read the Lothlórien captain. He did not understand this fully, but Haldir revealed nothing to make it clearer.

"Legolas seems all right," Haldir replied simply, looking over at the stoic Mirkwood elf momentarily. "My brothers have a tendency to play rough, though I am certain they would bear in mind that he is our guest. He is also very capable of defending himself and, if I recall, he mentioned defeating Orophin."

"That he did," Aragorn nodded and tried to force his suspicion away. If something was wrong, surely Legolas would have said so-... then again, the elf was the most stubborn creature he had ever met. Thinking it through twice, he probably would keep it concealed and suffer in silence. Damn elvish pride. "He is just acting slightly withdrawn."

"He is tired," Haldir excused again, using Legolas's own words and feeding them to the man.

"You are quite right," the ranger nodded, seeing this going nowhere. "I am sure all will be better in the morn. Did you speak with him as you wished?"

"I did," Haldir smiled gently and inclined his head. "You should get your rest, Estel. You are weary from your journey and it will take many nights to regain lost sleep. Do slumber well and I shall see you tomorrow."

"Of course," Aragorn returned the smile and touched a hand to his lips as he turned back to his equipment.

"Good night, Haldir," Frodo murmured politely and wandered back to the hobbits, relieved that all was well. He sent a curious glance to their mysterious elven friend who seemed to have blocked the world out and was readying himself for sleep.

Boromir also nodded to the Marchwarden and Gimli grunted wordlessly, both sitting back down. The Lórien elf needed no more bidding and quietly left the glade, sending a backwards glance at the prince of Mirkwood. He would win his conquest; of that, he was sure.

XXXXXXX

Five days passed without incident, Haldir obviously deciding to allow things to lull for a while. He did not want to draw attention to his actions, still not yet confident that Legolas would remain entirely quiet if things intensified. He was mainly dependent on the prince's pride keeping him from seeking out any sort of help and, so far, it was working. If he pursued him with continuous failure, though, he was not so sure.

Over those days, Legolas became increasingly aware of the fact that Aragorn was trying to get him alone. He knew it would involve an interrogation as the man would attempt to string some sort of explanation from him. Therefore, he avoided being alone with the ranger as much as possible and tried to act nonchalantly.

No one else had become suspicious of the elf's excuse and were all content to leave it rest as it was. They saw no reason to think Legolas had covered anything up, but they did not know him very well. He had met them for the first time at the council and none had had the time to even get near to his personal barriers. Aragorn was the only one who was close to the prince and was not fooled.

Even the small, forced smiles drew the man's attention where any other would have taken them as genuine. He was truly worried for his friend and needed to know what was wrong, for there was no apparent reason to hide it.

Every time the ranger came near Legolas and he was on his own, the elf prince would hurriedly apologise and invent an excuse. If there was anyone nearby, he would erect a conversation and make it impossible for Aragorn to broach such a delicate subject in the middle of a light topic.

It was night, now, and dinner had passed. The company was unaware of the track of time within the wood, but knew it had been days. Aragorn decided he would force an opportunity to present itself and approached the elf while the hobbits were readying themselves for bed.

"Estel?" Legolas noticed the man as he drew near and fought back the small flare of panic. He knew that Aragorn had grown impatient, but kept a cool expression.

"Legolas," the man half-smiled and gestured to the forest with a hand. "I was hoping I might talk with you, briefly?"

"I am tired–" he began to shake the request off, just as the human had expected.

"Come with me," he interrupted in a tone that would not be denied. "Legolas, I will speak with you in private or I will speak with you here."

Legolas stared at him for a long moment, knowing that if he persisted to refuse then Aragorn would know that something was definitely wrong. His stubborn nature did not like the idea of giving in, but it would shine better on his story so he nodded. "Of course."

Aragorn turned and moved towards the trees, the elf trailing after him at a casual pace. They did not wander too far away, but just enough so that no one from their group would be able to hear them.

"What is wrong, Aragorn?" Legolas asked openly, as if he had no idea what the man wanted. "Does something trouble you?"

"Yes," Aragorn said blatantly. "You do. What happened the other night? I feel like you did not tell the whole truth."

The blonde tilted his head to the side, as if he had to think hard to recall the night the man spoke of. Of course, it was burned into his mind; however, he put on a good show of thinking back to it. "When Orophin attempted to overpower me?" He asked calmly.

The human nodded once, crossing his arms. He was not convinced by the elf's display.

"I said everything there was to tell," the elf prince rolled his shoulders gracefully in a shrug, as if not understanding Aragorn's suspicion. "It was a simple surprise pulled by the border-guard. I retain no ire."

"Is that all that happened, Legolas? You were withdrawn," Aragorn appealed to his friend, hating that he had to force a response from the prince. He was only concerned and feared something more was wrong.

Legolas hesitated. It was the briefest of seconds, unrecognisable to anyone else he might have been conversing with. This was his opportunity – his best friend was providing him with the perfect chance to say what had happened. He could confess it and remove that weight from his heavy heart and mind.

Then he thought back to the problems it would cause and the possibility of them being forced from the Golden Wood on the grounds of him being unsafe. He could take care of himself and would not commit such an act of total weakness. "That is all," he answered. "What more would there be?"

Aragorn had noticed the hesitation, and the elf guessed he would. "You tell me," he replied in a firm tone. He raised a single eyebrow in a remarkable impression of Lord Elrond and stared at Legolas intently.

"I have said all there is, Estel," Legolas replied in a perfectly reasonable tone of voice. He met the man's stare and schooled his features into a mask he had long been forced to learn. "I see not why you persist. If something were wrong, I would tell you."

"No, you would not," came the stony objection to the statement. "Though, you would have a reason to hide it from me. I can simply not think why you would conceal something! We are safe here."

"We are," Legolas sighed inaudibly. "I hide nothing and that is your reason for being unable to raise an excuse. Will you not believe me, mellon nín?"

"Legolas..." Aragorn was loathe to let this drop and leave his friend despairing on his own. He knew something was wrong; he felt it. The elf was just being stubborn, but was doing a very good job of concealing his feelings from even him.

"This is without point," the elf continued at the human's unwillingness. "Let it go."

Aragorn saw he was about to get absolutely nowhere with this stubborn creature and reluctantly nodded his head, though was not at all willing to let this go. He would figure this out, for he was certain that something more had happened than the blonde was letting on. He just knew that trying to force it from Legolas would only cause him to close up further.

"Let us return and get our rest," Legolas lightened the suddenly tense atmosphere with a small smile and gestured back the way they had come. "We will soon miss it once we are without Lothlórien's security."

Aragorn sighed and lowered his head, but followed his friend out of the forest and back into the glade. The hobbits were already snoring quietly and Boromir cracked an eye open to bid them goodnight, though Gimli did not stir. The ranger assumed him asleep and bed himself down, nodding to his elven companion.

Legolas acknowledged both Gondorian and ranger with a tilt of his chin and folded his legs under him, getting ready to enter the waking sleep of the elves. He had a feeling Aragorn would pursue the matter, but did not worry on it. He just hoped Haldir would not be as persistent.

XXXXXXX

Though the Fellowship could not trace the passage of time within the wood, for it was impossible to determine and they had no desire to think on it, a fortnight had passed. The rest and relaxation was deeply appreciated by all of the nine members and there was none that wanted to suggest departing.

Gimli and Legolas had taken many a walk during their stay, pleasing themselves with the beauty of their surroundings. Occasionally, Aragorn or the hobbits would join them in their stroll to marvel at the forest. Mostly, they were alone though.

They frequently enjoyed the company of the Lórien elves when they dined. Sometimes, they would be alone with their dinner and at other times they ate with the elves. They were not greeted with complete kindness, but intrigue and politeness. They were still foreigners here – even Legolas.

The elf prince was now entertaining himself with Rumil and Orophin, the brothers of Haldir. He had not seen the elf for well over a week and was content to have it so. The trio had found a neat little clearing not far from Lothlórien's main body and were trying out some sparring.

Legolas was unaware if Orophin knew he had been used as an excuse or not, but had decided not to think on all that had happened that night since it had passed and was of no further significance. Rather, he enjoyed the feeling of grappling with his own kin and testing their strength.

"*Come, Rumil!*" Legolas jeered light-heartedly as he waved a hand at him in a taunt. They had discarded weapons in favour of fists, deciding to build up to weapons as they went. There was no need to exhaust themselves so soon.

Rumil smirked at the elven barb, him and Orophin being unable to communicate in Westron. They knew fragments of the Common Tongue, but not enough to use it as a secondary language. It was reason as to why their interaction with the rest of the Fellowship had been kept to an absolute minimum. "*You will regret that invitation, little prince!*" He crowed back confidently.

Legolas laughed musically. "*I think not!*" He dropped into a defensive crouch and readied his arms before him, drawing closer to Rumil as he initiated the circling that would prepare them to watch how the other moved. Orophin was off to one side, arms crossed as he leant against a tree and watched.

The pair moved clockwise patiently as the minutes dragged on, a diameter of no less than two metres separating them. Blue eyes focused on brown and neither revealed anything of the intentions running through each elf's mind. Silence had fallen and not even the soft breaths of the creatures could be heard on the air.

Rumil was the first to make a move and initiate the battle. He covered the distance between them in a bounding stride and crashed his fist into the side of Legolas' head. The prince barely had time to duck the blow and it still caught him against the ear.

Its potency had been reduced and he managed to maintain his balance, blinking back the effects as he slammed a boot out and caught the border-guard in the knee. Rumil was not as lucky with his balance and stumbled back a pace as he favoured his right leg.

Legolas advanced on him hurriedly and grabbed both the Lórien elf's wrists in each of his hands. While Rumil registered the assault, the elf prince drew him forward so that they were inches apart. Following through on the action, he lifted his knee and dug it straight into the flesh of Rumil's belly with a vicious upward thrust of his own knee.

The air rushed from Rumil's lungs in a quick sigh of winded shock, his eyes closing as he attempted to keep upright. He had honestly not expected the Mirkwood elf to be as fast as he was, despite the wood-elves being renowned for their excellent battle skills – they fought daily just in order to survive. Legolas's slender outward appearance, though, had been cause for underestimation and the border-guard was sure not to let it happen again.

Legolas repeated his attack, driving his knee into his opponent's abdomen with deadly precision. He then wrapped an arm about Rumil's throat and slid a pace to the side, knocking the border-guard's legs out from under him with an almost lazy kick of his leg. He fought using agility and tactical thought, not strength and spontaneity.

Rumil fell to the ground, almost choking against the pressure around his throat. Legolas's arm suddenly disappeared and he slumped forward, momentarily stunned. The archer's offensive attack had taken no less than two minutes to execute and, from how fast they had moved, it might not have even happened at all.

Legolas swiped a boot into Rumil's side to make sure the border-guard would stay fallen, amused by how quickly he had overpowered the larger elf. He knew the Lothlórien inhabitants had no reason to know of his prowess in battle, but the fact he had been underestimated almost insulted him. He was the son of a king! His skill with a bow was close to being the best in Arda; how could they have thought him an easy win?

As Rumil absorbed the impact of the boot with a soft grunt, he swept his own leg out and felled the elf prince with his own strike. Legolas had not expected him to possess enough clarity to respond with an attack of his own and was taken aback by the blow. He fell on his back, but rolled quickly in case the assault was followed through.

Rumil pounced after the prince, determined to fight past his fading sense. He would not be taken down in so quick a time span! As Legolas rolled, he straightened and strode after him. He covered the distance more easily on his feet.

Still, by the time he approached the slighter creature, Legolas was close to regaining his feet. He lunged quickly and threw himself at the archer, toppling them both back to the earth.

Legolas's head hit the ground with an audible sound and sickening shapes danced before his vision. He closed his eyes briefly to rid them from his sight and began struggling, trying to stop his arms from being pinned. It would be that much harder to dislodge Rumil if he could not utilise his arms.

Rumil snatched one of the flailing wrists, his own head still pounding rhythmically. He was satisfied he could return some of the damage. As his fingers enclosed about one slim wrist, the prince's other hand suddenly formed a fist and slammed against his jaw. His head snapped to the right and his grip slackened.

In an instant, Legolas reversed their positions and had Rumil effectively pinned with his knees about the elf's hips and his arms by his sides. He was still faster than he was given credit for and held the border-guard's arms securely.

"Awarthal dûr [Do you yield]?" Legolas asked confidently from above him, waiting for Rumil to give in as he held him immobile. When no admission of defeat was forthcoming, he twisted one of the Lórien elf's hands painfully. "Awarthal dûr?" He repeated in a deadly tone.

Rumil hissed between his teeth and squirmed ever so slightly. "Awarthon dûr [I yield]," Rumil conceded in a voice that was barely audible, looking distasteful about the situation.

"Muindor," Orophin slowly approached the pair and shook his head, looking down at Rumil. "*You forsake victory so soon?*"

"*I have little choice, Orophin,*" the reply was bitter as Legolas straightened and helped the disgruntled border-guard to his feet. The elf prince looked rather amused though did not comment, knowing Rumil's pride to be suffering.

"*You fought well, son of Thranduil,*" Orophin ignored his brother's internal wound-nursing and commended the prince's abilities. "*I would indeed like to try and best you, for I now see how you fight.*"

"*If you are anything like your brother, then it may not matter,*" Legolas replied slyly, voice dripping with exaggerated smugness. It was not a characteristic he normally possessed, which made it evident he was saying it lightly and as a barb. He was enjoying playing with these Lórien elves and found their company much better than Haldir's. He had missed elves, he realised.

"*So confident, Legolas?*" A new voice reached their ears, so similar and yet different to Orophin's and Rumil's.

The tone made Legolas freeze and he turned to face Haldir, concealing his emotions so that the Marchwarden would not see them. Inwardly, he was telling himself to run as he knew this could not end well. He had dropped his guard after the time of inactivity from Haldir; at least his weapons were nearby, he thought dryly.

"Muindor!" Orophin greeted his brother with a small smile. "*Where have you been?*"

"*The northern border,*" Haldir replied smoothly, regarding them all with piercing eyes. "*I have only just been dismissed and all seems to be well, for now.*"

"*We were just testing our skills against the prince of Mirkwood,*" Orophin traded their activities casually, as if it was routine. "*Rumil has suffered grievous humiliation.*"

Haldir smiled slowly and looked at Legolas, eyes boring into the carefully guarded ones of the blonde. "*Legolas is quite a capable fighter and you are foolish to forget that.*" His words seemed to hold a hidden meaning.

"*I should not be gone from the Fellowship for too long a time,*" the prince calmly excused himself as he realised the direction this could take. The air had suddenly turned cold and he was tense. "*I should return, lest Aragorn wonder where I am.*"

"*You should stay,*" Haldir said, though it was not a suggestion. Despite how it was said, it was an order and the Marchwarden fully intended it to be obeyed. He gave a significant look to each of his brothers, eyes hard and demanding. "*Hold him.*"

The two brothers shared careful looks, wondering at the sudden order against one of their own kin. In that one instant, though, Legolas broke into a sprint. He needed no more encouragement and did not waste a second.

With the three elves there, though, his potential directions of flight were drastically reduced. Orophin lunged at him as he began to move and both fell to the ground, rolling and trying to overpower the other.

Rumil quickly intervened and tangled a hand in the elf prince's golden hair, slamming his head against the ground and providing Orophin with enough time to grab the slender limbs and hold them immobile. Though Legolas was the better fighter, he could not take them both on at once.

"*What has he done?*" Rumil asked slowly, suspicion triggered by Legolas's attempt to flee.

"*Remember how I spoke with you both the other night?*" Haldir moved closer and regarded the pinned elf prince. "*Told you of my one-sided love? Spoke to you of a beautiful wonder that would make even the Valar jealous? ... This is him.*"

"Cund [Prince] Legolas?" Orophin sounded slightly confused as he looked up at Haldir and shook his head. "*You cannot forcefully restrain him to love him, brother. No matter how beautiful you think he is.*"

"*You must release me,*" Legolas had recovered enough sense from the blow to form coherent speech. "*This is not the first time he has tried; let me go and I will speak to no one of it.*"

"You will be mine, Legolas," Haldir informed him in Westron, Rumil and Orophin unable to follow the conversation except for the occasional word or two. "You have already proven you will not speak of it. You may as well accept your fate."

"You are so controlled by your own lust that you fail to open your eyes to problems that are of so much greater significance," Legolas controlled his mounting panic and forced his voice to be even, eliminating the slur the blow to his head had tried to place in his tone. "The Ring is within your city and you are too narrow-minded to see what is at stake! The Fellowship need their rest. Arda is at stake, Haldir!"

"Then stop fighting and give me what I want, so that you may rest before your departure," Haldir said simply, not at all swayed by the eloquent words.

"*An elf most oft dies if they are raped!*" Legolas switched back to elvish, no longer disguising their conversation from the other two border-guards. He saw Rumil frown and gasp softly at the accusation. "*I have a mission to accomplish.*"

"*If your loyalty to that mission is as great as it need be, then you will not die,*" Haldir replied calmly, as if it was simple knowledge. "*If you are as strong as you claim to be, elf prince, then you can fight to remain here. The fact that you will enjoy it may also keep you from fading.*"

"*I will not let you do this!*" Legolas was beginning to feel increasingly helpless and was unable to do anything. He struggled against the two elves pinning him, but Rumil's hand tightened on his hair and he slowly stilled.

"*You want to rape him, Haldir?*" Orophin asked carefully from where he pinned the slender blonde.

"*Do you not think he is beautiful, Orophin?*" Haldir moved his gaze to his brother, voice lowering to a seductive purr as he indirectly made an offer to the border-guard. His eyes were darkened with inevitable victory and mounting lust.

Legolas focused his gaze on the figure above him, watching the Lórien elf's face carefully. He felt almost hesitant for the answer, knowing that he would not be able to fight against all three of them if they chose to work together. Why were they so insistent on this?

Orophin briefly met the startling blue eyes and swallowed back a lump in his throat. "*He is beautiful, brother. I would be foolish to disagree – however, this is not the way to go about matters and if it is discovered, there is bound to be great punishment.*"

"*Only if we are caught,*" Haldir pointed out the main factor of that scenario taking place, waving a long finger in mocking triumph. "*I care not, Orophin. Join me or leave me; just do not betray me, for we are family and that would be intolerable.*"

"*If you do nothing, you take a hand in it yourself,*" Legolas breathed in a soft voice, so that only Orophin and Rumil were able to hear the words clearly. His heart was thrumming in his chest, despite his steely nerves. He had to get out of here.

It was apparent that Orophin was torn between remaining obedient to his brother and captain, and respecting the obvious conscience squeezing his thoughts. He felt as if his mind was being compressed and suffocated, just to make it more difficult to focus and concentrate on the current situation.

"Orophin," Rumil spoke gently, as if asking his brother for his opinion. He felt equally as lost and his fingers slackened in Legolas's golden hair.

Orophin met his brother's gaze and his hesitation was prominent, his eyes ducking down to Legolas's face for the barest of moments. The cerulean eyes were forcibly calm, though there was the slightest spark of apprehension within their depths. It was difficult to read and gave little away.

"*This is unforgivable,*" Legolas's voice was strained and there was a hidden waver in his tone. He twisted briefly and glared across at Haldir. "*Do not listen to him!*"

"*I am your brother,*" Haldir appealed calmly, as if this situation were perfectly reasonable. His exterior was controlled and statistical, refusing to even consider that things might not go in his favour. "*You will not assist me in this?*"

"*We are as loyal to you as we are to the Golden Wood,*" Orophin met his brother's gaze and implored him to reconsider his actions. Haldir's arrogance tended to rule his judgement and mistakes had resulted because of it in the past. "*But this, Haldir... this is wrong.*"

Legolas dared not relax as his gaze snapped to Haldir quickly, reading the fair face to try and gleam some of the Marchwarden's thoughts. He felt relief course through him at the thought of an ally, though he remained rigid in the grip of the two elves that did not release him.

"*Your first loyalty is to me!*" Haldir's voice was not raised, though his tone had adopted a sharp edge. He stalked closer and stooped beside the immobile elf prince, dipping a hand into the front of his tunic. Pushing past a button, he allowed his fingers to glide over the milky flesh beneath.

His ministrations earned him an involuntary shiver as the Mirkwood elf had been unprepared for the sudden, undesired touch. His azure eyes glowed with instant defiance and rebellion, his body twisting against all three of the Lórien elves.

"*Hold him!*" Haldir ordered them in a strict tone, glaring hard at his brothers. "*I order you, as your captain, to hold him restrained!*"

Rumil looked to Orophin, though clenched his fingers once again and brought Legolas' head back against his thigh. Pinning the delicate neck by his knee, he held him roughly as Orophin applied more pressure against his arms.

"Rumil; Orophin!" Legolas hissed at them, mostly out of surprise. He did not expect them to actually do this.

"*He is our captain, Legolas,*" Rumil whispered from behind him. "*Would you disobey an order from your father- no, your king?*"

"*If it hurt someone who was innocent,*" Legolas argued calmly, though his heart was constricting in his chest. He breathed steadily and switched his gaze between them all, determined not to allow his panic to get the best of him. "*I would trust to my better judgement and see that no one needlessly pay the price for mere wanton desire, even if my father and king did order it.*"

"*Then my brothers are better trained than you,*" Haldir purred as his hand drifted lower, gliding over the planes of Legolas' flat stomach. He deliberately applied feather light touches to the skin around his nipples as he lowered his hand, smiling nastily. "*That can be amended, however; I shall train you very well.*"

Legolas's hope for an ally was snuffed out as quickly as it had risen. He bucked suddenly and began another desperate struggle. Were it just one of them, he knew he might have been able to overpower them. With all three against him, he stood little hope.

Rumil tugged back on his hair and shared another uncertain look with Orophin, though his brother was staring down at Legolas as he held him still. "*Do not make this harder,*" he quietly warned.

Legolas subjected him to one of his renowned glares – which he had inherited from his father – and held the eye contact until Orophin was forced to turn his head away. Twisting viciously to the side, Legolas then spat at Haldir. "*When my father hears of this, he will have you all punished!*"

Haldir sighed, as if growing impatient with a stubborn child, and wiped the spit away from his cheek with the back of his hand. "*Then he shall not; I will ensure your silence, Legolas. You only create more danger for yourself with this futile resistance.*"

"*Dirty orc!*" Legolas cursed out of frustration, his internal worry beginning to bloom within his breast. "*I will not allow you to use me against my will! Have you no semblance of a conscience?*"

Plucking another button open, Haldir leaned closer and breathed against the soft, trembling lips of his captive. He knew Legolas was panicking; he was just doing a commendable job at hiding it. "*Oh, I do. I just happen to know what I want, Legolas, and nothing keeps a hunter from his prey.*"

Haldir then suddenly wrapped a hand around the ivory throat pinned against Rumil's knee and squeezed the windpipe. Before Legolas could even attempt to pull away, a hand covered his face and cut of his breathing.

His eyes narrowed and he forced back the instinct to breathe in, sensing a soft fabric pushed against his mouth and nostrils. Haldir had pulled a cloth from his pocket and the elf prince knew better than to assume it was doused in the scent of cherries. The captain of Lothlórien was attempting to drug him.

At a nod from Haldir, Rumil pulled sharply on the golden tresses he had his hand wrapped in and the sting caused Legolas to gasp. As soon as he opened his mouth, the foul essence of the substance coating the cloth seeped into his lungs and black images instantly began dancing across his vision.

"Losto vae, cund vell [Sleep well, beloved prince]," Haldir whispered sweetly, smiling in satisfaction as the elf prince's eyelids drooped and his struggles weakened. Minutes later, he was lost to a world of darkness with nothing but Haldir's lingering face and words for comfort.

XXXXXXX

When Legolas awoke, it was to find his entire body aching. He felt as if he had been tied to two horses and then stretched in opposite directions for the pain that seemed to have settled in his body. He did not stir or move for several moments, allowing his body to relax and grow accustomed to the knowledge that he was now conscious and aware. Slowly, the ache gradually faded until it was a more bearable throb in the back of his mind – barely noticeable to someone with his pain tolerance, learnt over long years.

Once the pain had receded somewhat, he also realised that a large portion of his discomfort was due to the awkward position he was tied in. He felt the rope against his wrists, now, tying his arms to the headboard of the bed he knew he was on. It had to be a bunk of some kind – or something soft and used for rest, he guessed.

His legs were free – a small mercy – but the throb of his cramped shoulders had overridden that freedom of movement and bayed for all attention. He also noted, with a feeling of dread, that he was effectively gagged. He could barely moisten his dry mouth around the offending piece of material. Finally understanding that he was bound and vulnerable, he dared not alert whoever else was present that he was awake. Instead, he focused his hearing and listened intently.

If an elf were nearby, though, they would not indicate their being here through sound. Elves were silent and flawless – all of them, which proved to be a hindrance at this time.

Before he could even allow himself to delve deeper into his surroundings and draw from them some sign of company, his chin was savagely grabbed by long fingers and thrust upwards. Knowing his game was up, he allowed his blue eyes to flash open and meet the face of the one who had touched him.

He was not at all surprised to see Haldir staring hungrily down at him. It took a moment to bring the Marchwarden's face into focus as his pupils absorbed the sudden light that assaulted them and adjusted to it, but when he did, he glared ruthlessly.

"You are awake," Haldir remarked, stating the obvious. He smiled as the head he held silently seethed at him.

Legolas could not reply and, even if he could, he would not have granted Haldir that satisfaction. His eyes doubled in intensity and the ice within them seemed to reach out and freeze the captain's heart to the core, stopping its very beating. If looks could kill, they say.

"I hope you realise that the precautions," Haldir indicated the gag and rope holding the prince's hands, "are only necessities and I mean nothing discourteous by it."

It was lucky that Legolas could not speak, for he would have had a very ready comment for those words. 'Discourteous'? Was Haldir entirely insane or had he just given into his primal, sick side? In either case, it mattered not, for he was still crossing so many lines and seemed to have only deluded himself into believing this 'foolproof'.

He could not begin to understand how the captain's mind was working. Did he honestly think he could get away with this without there being any repercussions? No matter what he had planned out, he would need to be truly insane for him to believe there no consequence for such an unspeakable crime. Rape and kin-slaying were punishable by death in the eyes of the Valar and no such act would be tolerated. Was he so foolish as to think himself untouchable?

The more he dwelt on the illogical thoughts, the more he frustrated himself by not being able to determine where Haldir was coming from and what he must be thinking. His helpless, vulnerable position did nothing to help his clear thought processes; he was entirely unable to protect himself, which was a dreadful feeling for the capable elf warrior.

Haldir flashed a devilish grin at the expression visible past the gag on his prize's face. It was clear he was enjoying himself more than any sane, compassionate creature ever could and would never regret this.

"If I remove your gag, will you spit insults and yell until your pretty little throat is sore?" He drawled lazily, as if he already knew the response and was asking out of mere courtesy.

Legolas would never scream for assistance – not even in a desperate situation such as this. His pride would simply not allow it; his stubborn elvish nature had landed him in distasteful predicaments before, but it was what provided him with his unbendable will.

He would quite gladly present insults to the Firstborn with bitter remarks and sarcastic taunts, no matter how they worsened his dilemma. It would provide him with the satisfaction he needed in order to prevent panic; he was doing a commendable job keeping his nerves at bay, iron though they were. He had had practice at hiding his true emotions in the past and was able to don a cool exterior that betrayed nothing.

The only people who had ever been able to look past his facade and catch a glimpse of his soul were his father, Lord Elrond, and Estel. They were not to be fooled and, on occasions, he was never able to lie smoothly to them for they saw it in his eyes.

He would never allow Haldir the victory of looking past his erected barriers and into his soul, no matter how much the elf hurt him or taunted him. Orcs and men had done their worst to him before and it took more than pain to break him. Rape, he was not so certain about, but he would never willingly yield to the Marchwarden.

"No answer?" Haldir broke through his whirling thoughts, voice far from comforting.

Ceasing his internal reverie, Legolas offered another cold stare to the arrogant scum still holding his chin. Loathing the touch, he ripped his head away and maintained his lethal stare. Haldir knew he could not answer him and was revelling in his vulnerability.

"Do not be so withdrawn, elven prince," Haldir snatched his captive's jaw back and smirked into the violent blue orbs glowing at him. "You will gain much pleasure from this."

If Legolas could have spat past the gag, he would have. To compensate for his lack of tongue, he flooded his eyes with as much defiance as he could and focused it all on Haldir. He would not be tamed or claimed and he wanted to make that perfectly clear.

Haldir tutted sadly, though smiled and released Legolas's chin. His hand moved to caress the elf prince's neck, fingers curling around and behind to brush against the hairline beneath the blonde curtains about the archer's shoulders. He lowered himself onto the mattress, his light weight barely making a dip as he glided his hand even lower.

He ran it across Legolas's tunic, playing with the latches that held it shut and even flicking a few open to subject the smooth chest to the air about his flet. He dipped his hand inside the prince's shirt and ran a fingertip across the taut stomach within, playing with Legolas's navel as he watched his prize subdue a shudder.

"Do not hide your reactions from me," he chided, running his finger around Legolas's belly button again and holding eye contact. "... You will not be able to, for long."

Legolas pressed his head back into the soft pillow behind him and closed his eyes, tugging against the rope holding his hands again. He was bound expertly and the ties would not loosen, his hands already numb from blood loss. They were tight and bit into the soft flesh of his wrists; he knew they would be raw and possibly even welted or bleeding.

He breathed slowly through his nose and tried to ignore Haldir's fingers running over his stomach and up his sides, trying to draw forth muffled gasps and shivers. He suppressed every tremble that wanted to course through him as the Marchwarden occasionally hit a sensitive spot, not willing to give Haldir anymore amusement than he was already obtaining.

He felt a sense of hopelessness tug at his heart and tried to think of something calming – such as his home, or his father. When Haldir ran his thumb skilfully over Legolas's right nipple, however, those thoughts disappeared in a cloud of smoke and he gasped.

Furious at himself for the undisciplined reaction, his eyes snapped open and he glared at Haldir who looked extremely pleased with himself. He wanted nothing more than to banish that smug expression from the elf's face with his fist. He refused to give the captain anymore audible signs of his distress.

"I told you that you would be unable to contain them for long," Haldir purred, bending over the slender body and touching his mouth to the same nipple. He placed his lips over the dark nub and lapped against it gently, his hand straying over to the left one and tweaking it.

Legolas's eyes slid closed again, his throat closing up as he forced himself to quieten and not release another sound. By tensing his body, he was able to prevent trembling, though he knew Haldir had to have felt him go completely rigid. This feeling of utter hopelessness was gnawing at his gut, making him feel nauseous.

Haldir continued his ministrations, plucking the nipple between his skilled fingers and running his tongue over the other. After a moment, he swapped and began licking at the left nipple. Despite Legolas's best efforts to remain unresponsive, he inevitably felt the bud of flesh go erect and hard in his mouth.

"Your body is not as resistant as your mind," the Marchwarden murmured sensually, placing butterfly kisses down Legolas's stomach, sweeping the rest of his buttons open and knocking the tunic to each side of the slim body. He paused at the navel once again and dipped his tongue into the small hole.

Legolas remained stiff and tense, hating that his body seemed to be enjoying the attention. He, personally, was gaining no joy from it and found himself hating Haldir. It was hard for an immortal to hate, as they lived forever and even a grudge was unable to be sustained for that long, but he truly found raw hate building in his heart for this elf. He wanted to kill him.

"I view seduction as an art, my prince," Haldir whispered possessively. "It takes great skill and talent... and I am an artist."

Haldir paused at Legolas's waistband and kissed along his hips, glancing up to hold the blue eyes that were staring at him once more. Slowly, so he could savour it, he pulled the tie loose and opened the blonde's pants.

There was a clear warning in Legolas's eyes, telling him to stop before he took it any further, but Haldir merely smiled and slipped his hand inside.

Legolas's eyes rolled back in his head and he twitched away from Haldir, who had reasserted himself into a better position for accomplishing his goal. He shifted over and sat across the elf prince's calves, brushing his fingertips over the archer's soft length of flesh he had exposed.

Instantly, Legolas reared away and tried to dislodge the elf over him by knocking his calves around. Haldir's weight effectively kept his long legs still, however, and all he could do was silently seethe and hate. It was becoming unbearably frustrating that he was unable to do a thing while he was assaulted and abused like a useless toy. He could not stand being so powerless.

"Hold still and this will go easier for you," Haldir snapped, wrapping his fingers around the base of the elf prince's meat and squeezing.

The pressure was not meant to pleasure, but intended to punish, and Legolas could not help but wince as his sensitive flesh was squashed. The Marchwarden knew perfectly well just how to manipulate him to gain the reactions he sought. Stilling quickly, the archer settled for glaring murderously, praying to the Valar that Haldir would regain some sort of sense.

He wanted to command him to stop, tell him to think about what he was doing... but he could not even do that. He was gagged – he could not even beg, not that he ever would. No one would ever make him beg for anything; never. He simply wished he could do something – anything.

"That is better," Haldir smiled and bent, placing a light kiss to the head of the penis he held. Legolas started trembling then, unable to contain it anymore. No one had ever touched him there before with their mouth. Haldir had even been the first to apply touch there with his hand, forever staining him with that sinful presence; it was a foreign sense of loss, despite it had not been his entire innocence.

Glad that the gag hid his suddenly hitched breathing, he tried to mentally control himself; it would not do to lose to panic. He was a prince and could figure this out. Ai! He just wished Haldir would stop. He was not used to such violation against his will.

As the blonde tried to swivel his pelvis out of Haldir's reach, the Marchwarden snatched the narrow hips in his hands and pushed them down, effectively pinning his prize to the bed. He applied as much strength as it took to stop Legolas from so much as budging, his lips still playfully caressing the head of the prince's sensitive column of flesh.

"-aro!" Legolas tried to muffle a command to stop past the gag, unable to remain silent anymore. He had to stop this – he could not endure it going any further.

Haldir understood the broken syllables, mostly because of the defiance his prize was basing his reactions on. It could be nothing else but a demand to stop. Even tied and under his complete control, Legolas still had the sheer audacity to try and command him. He would master this beautiful prince and even humiliate him, if that is what it took.

"Be silent," Haldir growled, pulling away from the blonde's crotch just long enough to deliver a stinging backhand to the gagged elf.

The golden head fell to the side, though Legolas did not even register the pain on his face. He tucked it away and quickly resumed his glaring, feeling utterly hopeless and embarrassed. As a prince, he should be able to defend himself! Was he capable of failing his people as dismally as he had failed himself?

"I will teach you, lirimaer [lovely one], no matter how long it may take," Haldir purred more quietly, lowering his head back to his previous work.

A pretty blush involuntarily spread along Legolas's defined cheekbones as the captain's mouth enclosed his shaft and he bit down on the gag to prevent any noise from escaping him, eyes flashing furiously. Haldir was as skilled as he claimed to be and his tongue was working him expertly, trying to achieve the desired reaction.

Haldir licked along the entire underside of the beautiful column of flesh in his mouth, swirling his tongue around the top and then gradually sucking his way back to the base. It was a slow process intended to drive Legolas mad with desire, though it only mentally scarred the golden-haired son of Thranduil.

Haldir's right hand drifted up the younger elf's thigh and his fingers drifted close to the sensitive sack that rested beneath the main receiver of his ministrations. The captain's fingertips danced lightly over the flawless skin of the blonde's inner leg, before squeezing with enough force to bruise.

Legolas filed the pain away and shuddered to think that he would have a reminder the shape of a hand on his leg for days after this- nay! He was acting as if he were resigned to this; he could not lose hope. Though, when he felt Haldir's rigid erection pressing against his knee, hard and fierce, he wanted to take refuge in the back of his mind and hide from this horror. But that would be a coward's way out.

'There is no escape from this,' the prince's morbid thoughts crashed down on him as he closed his eyes once more. 'I am pathetic and weak. Should my father ever learn of my weakness, I fear it to not be Haldir alone who shall receive his barbed tongue. The pain of shaming him would be far greater than this horror.'

As he fought the rolling despair that was claiming his pounding heart, still trying to master himself and keep composure even in the face of impending hopelessness, he almost missed the sudden voice that broke through the air like an arrow.

"Haldir of Lórien!" A less than pleased tone resounded around the flet as loud footsteps stamped closer towards them. "What is it you think you are doing?"

Haldir retracted his head quickly and stared over at Aragorn, so engrossed had he been that he had not heard the human's louder feet approach his private dwellings. Realising his plans had all so suddenly been dashed, he fought for something to say. The sudden intrusion seemed almost unreal.

As he fished, Legolas released a relieved breath through the material confining his speech. Estel! The man had not failed him and had arrived just in time – a little earlier would not have hurt, but this was more than he could have hoped for. The Valar must have heard his prayers; this was almost too good to be true.

"Estel," Haldir drawled in his arrogant, confident tone. He hid his faltering excuses and appeared nonplussed by the man's abrupt arrival. "Legolas and I are enjoying one another's company; why do you interrupt?"

Aragorn stalked forward, silver eyes brewing a storm as they narrowed more with each step. His eyebrows met in a sharp line, a good resemblance to his adopted father, and his mouth tightened with fury. "Do you take me for a fool, Haldir?" He snapped, voice dripping with barely bridled rage.

He took in the situation with a sweep of his eyes. Legolas was dishevelled and tied, a gag blocking his mouth. His shirt was open and exposed most of his chest and stomach; his leggings were untied, though it was difficult to glance the unexcited flesh within their depths. Despite Haldir's attempts, it had not hardened under his attention.

It was the perfectly visible blue eyes that stopped Aragorn's heart within his chest, however. What was unmistakeably silver tears glistened in the corners of the cerulean crystals, threatening to spill over and held in place sheerly because of the elf's stubborn need to maintain control over his own body. Seeing the proud creature like this was heartbreaking.

The humiliation would have been affecting Legolas horribly, Aragorn knew from past experiences with the all too proud elf, and he could not believe the Lothlórien captain had placed his best friend in such a horrid situation. His anger only grew as Haldir straightened proudly, stepping around the bed with his usual arrogant strut.

"Of course not," Haldir intended to bluff his way out of this. "Whatever did I say to cause offence?"

"How dare you!" Aragorn pressed his face close to Haldir's, closing the distance between them in two strides. "You attack the son of a king – a fellow elf – and act as if you have done naught wrong? He is an esteemed guest in your lord and lady's home!"

"I have attacked him not," Haldir lied breezily, as if it was second nature. He adopted a confused frown. "He is here of his own will."

As soon as he finished the statement, Aragorn slammed a fist into the elf's cheek and knocked his head sideways. Seething with fury, he glared at Haldir until he straightened. "Liar!" He spat. "I know you drugged Legolas and brought him here – I saw you."

Haldir frowned briefly, hesitating. Were he arguing with anyone else, they would not have noticed it, but this was Aragorn and he picked up on it quickly.

"You will release him this instant," the ranger commanded in a low, dangerous tone. His eyes were deadly in their intensity. "Now!"

Haldir did not speak further, understanding that his game had ended and that his prey had eluded him. He felt a deep sense of anger and disappointment in his gut, though saw little alternative. So, he turned and moved over to where Legolas was still tied.

The elf prince's face was unreadable as Haldir pulled one of the blonde's own ivory-handled white knives from his desk and swiftly cut the ropes holding him immobile. After both wrists were free, Legolas hastily removed the gag from his mouth and tied his breeches; they were the most important things to be done, first.

Without retying his tunic, he leapt from the bed and twisted his knife from Haldir's fingers. Before Aragorn could so much as blink, the prince had Haldir pinned against his own wall with the shining elvish blade laid against the tender skin of his throat.

"I should kill you for what you have done to me," Legolas hissed through his teeth, voice more chilling than his expression. His fair face was not twisted, though his eyes shined with fury and his voice was vicious. "My father would do no less, were he here."

"I wanted only to please you," Haldir returned calmly, obviously trying to negotiate through his predicament.

"You wanted only to use me against my will for your own satisfaction," the blonde snapped back, his melodic voice dripping with hostility and hate. "You touched me where you had not permission to venture and bound me; you knew I was unwilling and yet you persisted. You would have taken it further, were it not for Estel."

"It was but a game," the Marchwarden's excuses were pitiful. "No harm would have befallen you."

Before elf or man could blink, Legolas wrist slashed downwards and his arm jerked. His white blade arced between Haldir's legs and buried itself deep into the wall of the flet, a millimetre from what the captain valued most on his person.

Haldir's breath hitched in the back of his throat with a soft 'click' and his eyes widened ever so slightly. Not daring to utter a noise, he focused an imploring gaze on the elf who had almost just stolen his pride from him.

"I will not miss next time," Legolas warned in a deadly serious tone, eyes never having left Haldir's as he executed his threat. "Do not lie to me or be so foul as to defend your actions. You are an insult to the race of elves."

Releasing a cautious breath, Haldir's eyes darted downwards for the barest of seconds, as if to make sure that he really had not been stabbed in the groin. The ivory knife was so very close, however, and he lifted his eyes back. "I know not what you want to hear."

"Not an apology," Legolas admitted, no matter how satisfying it would be to have Haldir swallow his pride and bid him to forgive him. It would rectify nothing and achieve nothing; nor did he want to hear this foul elf's voice any longer. "I want nothing more than to be completely rid of you – Lord Celeborn and Lady Galadriel may determine your punishment."

"You will tell them?" For the first time, Haldir's voice actually sounded small.

"I will inform them that you have attacked me and drugged me against my will," Legolas replied evenly. "For if I do not, Estel most surely will."

"I will not let this go," the man admitted, Legolas knowing him too well. There was no way he was about to let Haldir slide with what he had done to the prince.

"I suggest you make your peace with the Valar and prepare the truth," the elf prince wanted to get this over with as soon as possible. He needed to leave this flet. "Rethink all you have done and bear much guilt, Haldir of Lórien, for no one will pity you. Pray for forgiveness, for I will not grant it."

Without another word, he removed his knife from the wall and gathered its twin from the desk, along with his longbow and quiver of arrows. He was relieved that they were undamaged and it felt good to have the familiar objects back in his hands.

He quickly redid the ties of his tunic, fingers moving in a swift blur. He then strapped the weapons easily to his back as he made towards Aragorn and left the flet.

With a final look of distaste, the human turned and trailed is friend. Neither spared the shaken Marchwarden with a backwards glance as they hurriedly descended the stairs. They walked in silence for a few moments until they were away from the flet.

"Thank you, Estel," Legolas's gentle voice shattered the silence, his gaze falling on Aragorn. Genuine, desperate gratitude shone through where it would have been masked to anyone else.

Aragorn realised just how frightened Legolas had been, even if the elf did not know it himself. "You are welcome," he assured quickly, still angry at Haldir for what he had done to the proud prince.

"Had he been able to continue... I dread to think what would have happened," Legolas said lamely, not wishing to express his deepest feelings even to his best friend.

"I wish I had have arrived sooner, for your situation looked desperate," Aragorn rolled his shoulders and studied the elf, trying to make sure that he truly was all right. "You would have done the same for me."

Legolas nodded instantly, knowing that to be true. He and Aragorn were always there for one another, through thick and thin. The silence between them drew out until it was comfortable and they were able to enjoy the slow walk through Caras Galadhon. The trees whispered their support to the young wood-elf in their midst as he passed by, which was something the blonde was affectionately grateful for.

After minutes of silence and walking, Legolas paused and leaned his back against a tree. His sudden stop brought the man to a halt and he turned to frown questioningly at his friend, drawing to a stop in front of him.

Legolas absorbed some comfort from the tree he rested against before speaking. "How did you know?" As he asked the question, he stared down at his hands. He saw that they were indeed welted, nasty red rings encircling the smooth flesh of his wrists and close to having broken the skin.

Aragorn could not help but crack a small lopsided smile. "Do you not believe that I saw him abduct you in the forest?"

"I know you better than he does, Estel," Legolas returned with a small smile of his own, lifting his gaze. It lightened the man's heart to see the expression. "I know that, were our positions reversed, I never would have allowed him to take you from the clearing in the first place. Therefore, you would have stopped him before he reached his flet with me, as well."

Aragorn could not contain his chuckle at the thought of how alike they were. Legolas had a very good point – he never would have allowed things to go so far as they had, had he known of it from the start. "You are right."

"Then how did you know?"

"Rumil and Orophin came to me," Aragorn lowered his voice, sighing gently. "They asked for me to keep it from Haldir, but could not bear the thought of what he would do to you. Their guilt ate at them fast and they knew, though they could not go against their brother and captain, I would have little trouble doing so."

"I do hope Haldir does not discover it," Legolas's smile grew ever so slightly and he silently thanked the border-guards. They had come through for him, after all.

"Legolas," Aragorn's voice was suddenly extremely serious and the elf looked at him. "Is this what happened before – with you and Haldir?"

The elf prince echoed the man's earlier sigh and rested his head back against the bark behind him. "Haldir invited me to his tent with the pretence of an important matter to discuss. His words were poison and his only intention was to seduce me. I left before he could take it too far." He did not see the need for vivid details.

Aragorn held the blue gaze, eyes compassionate. "Why did you not tell me, Legolas? You had the chance. This could have been prevented had you spoken of it."

The blonde shook his head. "I wanted not for our stay to be shortened on account of my own problems. The hobbits revel here and it is not my place to cause departure."

"We need not have departed," Aragorn appealed, hating that Legolas's accursed pride had hurt him again. He had sensed that something had been direly amiss. "Haldir could have been dealt with, so that you were allowed to rest in peace."

"I acted as I saw fit to at the time," Legolas said simply, in no mood to argue the point with his friend. He was just thankful it was now over. "Be it my poor judgement or not, it cannot be undone now."

"I know," Aragorn relented. "Just promise me that you will never lie to me again when something or someone is hurting you. Please?"

Blue eyes locked on grey and a sea of understanding passed through the simple contact, Legolas offering a warm smile that was intended to reassure. "I promise," he gave his word, knowing Aragorn would not rest until he had received it.

"Good," the man said and gestured back to the path. By mutual consent, they started walking again.

"You will not speak of it to the lord and lady," Legolas began after another moment of silence in which he mused to himself.

"What?" Aragorn looked at his friend sharply, shocked. "Legolas! Have you heard nothing I have said? He must be dealt with."

"I have dealt with him," Legolas replied softly. "He will not try again; he has accepted that he has lost. The threat that they know hangs in the air over him now and he will always await their ruling with trepidation, though it shall never come."

"You want to do nothing against him?" Aragorn was still stunned by this decision. "You merely want him to be intimidated by a threat?"

"I will never forgive him, Estel," Legolas turned to look at the man, stopping again. "He knows this and, over time, it will dissolve his barriers and infect his conscience. It is inevitable, as elves are immortal – mayhap it will even take centuries, but it will still happen."

"That is all the vengeance you seek?"

"I have no need for Lord Celeborn and Lady Galadriel to fight my battles for me," Legolas held the human's gaze, allowing him to openly see that he could not bear the humiliation of them finding out. "I am a warrior of my father's realm, not a weak elfling. Please, Estel, I ask that you let this go."

Aragorn saw the look in those cerulean eyes and knew it would shatter the elf's pride if it became common knowledge, what had almost happened to him. It annoyed him sometimes that Legolas was so concerned with being able to defend and protect himself – it was not always a bad thing to seek help. "This time I will trust it to you, Legolas."

"Thank you, mellon nín," Legolas smiled thankfully, glad that the normally stubborn man seemed to understand, if not agree. "We cannot linger here for much longer, though the rest of our time shall be spent peacefully."

"How long have we been here?" Aragorn frowned, having lost track of time. He could not focus on how many sleeps they had experienced under the shelter of the Golden Wood.

The elf prince's delicate eyebrows pinched in an elegant frown as he, too, fought to think back. "I know not," he admitted. "They say time is impossible to track within Caras Galadhon. I see now that it proves true, for time feels to be of no importance here – as if it is but frozen and held within a glass orb, unaffected by all else."

Aragorn laughed lightly, the tension instantly vanishing with the jovial sound. "At least it is not I alone," he smiled. "Come, Legolas, let us go back and rest."

The elf returned the smile, the expression genuine and heartfelt. Nodding his head, he turned and continued on the way they were heading. As they strolled back to the glade where the Fellowship was staying, he quietly began to sing under his breath in his native tongue. The words carried through the trees and made them both smile as they relaxed.

XXXXXXX

It was a month that they stayed in Lothlórien before they were approached with the notion of leaving. Galadriel and Celeborn would never deject them from their wood, but they noticed the lack of intent to leave and could not help but make statement of it. It was so that the Fellowship became aware of how long they had lingered and agreed to go.

They were bid farewell with priceless gifts from the lady of the realm, each honoured and touched by the generosity. None wanted to leave.

Legolas also personally sought out Orophin and Rumil before the ceremony, bidding them his gratitude and a quick farewell. Haldir was not to be seen since his attack on the woodland prince days prior.

Aragorn and Legolas, by silent agreement, had not mentioned the events of that day because it was clear that the elf prince was still uncomfortable with what had taken place. Though, when they left, he seemed to have as light a heart as they all did – even recovering from the fall of Mithrandir.

Settling into their expertly crafted canoes, they set off down the river Anduin. The Lady Galadriel lifted a hand in farewell, the beautiful wood disappearing behind them as they sailed down the river. Their quest continued.

XXXXXXX

March 3-4, 3019 (Third Age), Helm's Deep, Rohan [Movie-verse battle]

The battle was close to being inevitable; the foul orcs of Saruman were drawing closer and every man bearing arms was visibly anticipating the outcome of this encroaching war. There would be casualties, that was a given, but it was hoped they could hold their ground long enough to make the sacrifices worthwhile.

Legolas sought out Aragorn, searching for the man after a disagreement they had had a short time prior. Slipping soundlessly into the armoury, the elf laid his eyes upon the man who was preparing himself for the coming battle and donning his armour.

He lifted the human's sword and wordlessly extended it to him, eyes on Aragorn as the man turned, hand outstretched. He noticed the prince and nodded gratefully, accepting his weapon. It would be his greatest friend for the rest of this small war.

"We have trusted you this far," Legolas began softly, regretting having doubted their resistance to such a foul army of yrch. "You have not led us astray. Forgive me; I was wrong to despair."

Aragorn realised that his friend was on edge and regarded the elf with warm eyes. "Ú-moe edhored, Legolas [There is nothing to forgive, Legolas]."

The man lifted his hand and clapped Legolas upon the shoulder comfortingly, the elf returning the sign with a smile that reflected his relief. He and Aragorn rarely fought and it played on each of their minds whenever it did occur, neither one being able to bear the guilt. They were akin to brothers.

Seconds before Gimli approached, Legolas's smile grew. His ears picked up the loud dwarf's feet from the other room. Turning, both man and elf observed the smaller creature struggling with his chain mail.

"If we had more time, I would get this adjusted!" Gimli huffed, dropping the bundle cradled in his arms so that the chain mail curled down to the floor, effectively covering his feet. "It is a little tight across the chest."

Aragorn's grin cracked his face before he could prevent it and he shared a look with Legolas. The elf prince was clearly biting back a smile of amusement as he stared at the troubled dwarf, raising a slender eyebrow. Before either could comment, however, a sound blew in the distance.

"That is no orc horn," Legolas's amusement faded and he whipped to look at Aragorn, a knowing look passing between them. Gimli seemed confused by the sudden serious importance of the horn, but before he could question it, the pair made quickly for the battlements.

He had no choice but to pursue them, lest he miss all the action that seemed to be about to take place. Had they visitors? Whatever it was, he refused to miss it.

As they reached the battlements, guards were shouting for the gates to be opened and for the king to be fetched. A squadron of Lórien elves marched in through the gates, armour glistening in what light there was. It was dark, but each was visible as they moved up the Causeway and towards the Hornburg.

Unbeknownst to them, Elrond had sent them under the command of Haldir of Lórien, prompted by the Lady Galadriel to send reinforcements. It had taken some organisation and the group had been forced to travel at a speed they had not undertaken for some time, but they had arrived without moments to spare.

As they drew closer to the main fortress, Aragorn whisked away from Legolas and hurried towards the flight of stairs leading down to where King Théoden stood. Legolas grabbed his arm, effortlessly catching up.

"Haldir leads them," he said quietly, having caught a glimpse of the elf at the forefront. After all they had endured – Boromir's death, the breaking of the Fellowship, hunting down the orcs which had captured Merry and Pippin, witnessing Gandalf the White's return, and preparing for this oncoming slaughter... he thought he might have been stronger.

With a pang, Legolas realised how cowardly the words sounded and he instantly regretted saying them. That had been months ago! It still felt so raw.

Aragorn's silver eyes focused on his elven friend's and he caught a slight glimpse of the thoughts swirling within. "They are here to aid us, mellon nín," he said calmly. "I do not expect you to greet him warmly, but all that is in the past."

"Iston [I know]."

"You were the one who wanted him to be free of punishment, Legolas," the man continued reasonably.

"Iston, Estel," Legolas breathed a sigh, schooling his features. "I was just not sure if you had seen him. I wanted naught but to warn you."

Aragorn could easily tell that, besides being nervous for the battle that the elf already lacked hope in winning (their earlier argument had shown as much), he was now nervous of having Haldir so close. He, himself, was still disgusted by what the Marchwarden had done, but he knew they needed this aid more than he might care to admit.

"Thank you," he humoured, knowing none of that excuse to be even remotely true. "We need his help, Legolas. Please, my friend, I ask that you be strong for this."

Legolas's gaze was cool and controlled. "I am always strong, Estel," he answered simply, regretting having broached this subject in the first place. He should have left it go.

Aragorn held the gaze for another second before he turned and continued down the row of steps that led to the courtyard. The ground sloshed under his feet as he approached the regiment of elves, standing with such professional skill that it made his army of farmers look pathetic.

Light reflected off their silver armour and cascaded about the courtyard, lighting their fair features with an ethereal radiance already possessed naturally to their kind. Elves were artists in battle and were almost impossible to stand against, unless numbers were with the opposition. It was a shame the creatures were so rare now that they could not create as formidable an army as was gathered in the First Alliance.

As he entered hearing range, he heard Haldir talking.

"I bring word from Elrond of Rivendell," the captain spoke to Théoden . "An alliance once existed between elves and men. Long ago, we fought and died together." His eyes caught on Aragorn as the man hurried towards their group, Legolas and Gimli trailing behind. "We come to honour that allegiance."

Steeling himself and forcing his relief at having aid for the battle to take control, Aragorn moved quickly forward and bowed to Haldir. It did no good to dwell on the past and his responsibility had been eating at him. He was not about to jeopardise this sudden advantage they had. "Mae govannen, Haldir." To further solidify his relief, he wrapped the elf in a huge embrace.

"Thank you," Haldir jerked, having removed his helmet and handed it to his second-in-command earlier. As soon as the man hugged him, he was taken aback and it took a moment for him to respond. Initially stunned, he lightly returned it – almost warily.

After his last confrontation with Aragorn, in which the man had looked violently furious, he never would have expected a bow of respect and hug to be forthcoming. Logically, he knew the human must be trying to settle feuds and make this battle as smooth as possible. It was tactically quite intelligent and he knew the adopted son of Elrond bore no genuine affection for him.

"You are welcome," Aragorn breathed as he pulled back, praying that Legolas would follow suit.

The elf prince strode forward, the pure epitome of mystery and guarded feelings, clapping a hand to Haldir's shoulder. No words left his lips as he clasped the Marchwarden's shoulder, Haldir mimicking the movement.

A knowing look spread forth from the captain's eyes and he seemed almost perplexed by Legolas's greeting. He did not have time to speak to him, though, as Legolas withdrew his touch and stepped back near Aragorn. The elf looked at no one.

"We are proud to fight alongside men once more," Haldir said. He turned back to Théoden and quickly recovered his grace, deciding to let the awkward confrontation slip. He would deal with Legolas after the battle. After all serious matters had passed, he intended to settle it once and for all. His hunger had not been sated and he intended to discover why the elf prince had not told his lord and lady, as he had threatened.

Théoden nodded, looking as utterly relieved as Aragorn felt. Instantly, he began ordering the men and everyone moved to take their positions. Preparations still had to be organised and positions erected for their strengths, so that they had a formidable offence and defence ready to face the orcs with.

No more confrontations were made as time drew on and each able man and elf took up their ready stances, preparing for the fight that would determine the lives of them all. Should the orcs win, they would take no captives and show no mercy.

XXXXXXX

The battle was over and Rohan had won. It had been a desperate fight and many good men had lost their lives in the struggle, each honoured by his comrades and remembered by his friends. The price of war was always so high.

Had it not been for Gandalf and the Rohirrim, they never would have stood a chance. Their defences had been breached and blood had become more common than dirt. Witnessing the carnage in its aftermath truly drove home the deadpan realisation of how many lives were now lost.

Helm's Deep had been won and Saruman defeated, however, which was the main thing. But, at what cost?

As Legolas stepped amongst the massacre, he noticed the amount of red blood. Even though there had been more orcs that had died – and they bled black, – crimson seemed to be running in rivulets across the ground. It made him feel sinful whenever he took a stride.

Every elf he had thus far seen was dead, a terrible sight to his eyes. Every Firstborn had died during the course of the battle and his heart sank with grief – immortals were not meant to die. It was unnatural.

"Estel," he saw the man observing the dead as well, not far away. At least he was okay.

Aragorn turned at the soft call and stepped towards Legolas. His eyes were haunted and he did not look victorious. "Legolas. How do you fare?"

"I am fine," came the elf's automatic response, even though he would bear bruises and scratches for weeks. The man could not see them, however, so he thought it irrelevant to mention, especially since there were so many worse off.

"Many are dead," Aragorn let it slide, too tired to pester the elf. He looked fine and he was thankful for at least that. "No elves made it; I am sorry."

Legolas nodded tersely, refusing to show the man how much that hurt him. His slain kin brought a terrible shadow over his mind, but he knew it was not the fault of the men that had brought it about. It was Saruman and the orcs, not the men of Rohan. He could not point blame at them for this tragedy.

"Legolas," the man said softly, watching his friend carefully for a reaction. "Haldir is dead."

Legolas froze, eyes not giving anything away as he thought over that sentence. It seemed so simple, yet was far from it. "You saw him fall?" He managed coherently, face a perfect mask of guarded emotions.

Aragorn nodded. "I held him as he died. I know that what he did to you was unforgivable, Legolas, but he did not deserve death. No elf deserves death."

"I know," the archer replied quietly. "I never would have wished that on him, despite what he did. Do you think me so callous, Estel?"

"Nay, that is not what I meant," the man quickly realised how his words had sounded. "Forgive me. I just meant that he, too, should be regarded as a hero and mourned. He did help us."

Legolas did not forgive Haldir, not even now. He was still able to feel grief for the loss of the fair life, however, and inclined his head. "Where is his body?"

Aragorn gestured to one of the high battlements with a finger, though did not speak further. He continued on, counting the number of men they had lost and trying to gleam recognisable faces among the corpses. All of them deserved honourable burials, which would need to be arranged in time.

Legolas moved towards the indicated area and it did not take him long to locate Haldir, sprawled amongst a pool of his own blood with his hair in a state of disarray. The sight was horrific and it made him sick to see elven life so easily shattered with nothing more than sheer violence.

Stepping closer and crouching, he touched a long finger to the side of Haldir's face. "Though you intended me great harm and would have bestowed unspeakable horror upon me, you did not deserve this," he murmured. He reached forward and ever so gently closed the dead elf's unseeing eyes. He would not wish death upon even Saruman, though he surely deserved it.

"Even you deserve peace, Haldir of Lórien," he whispered. He had never truly hated Haldir, as he had thought he had. At the time, it had seemed so genuine. It had just been his helplessness creating that illusion of utter abhorrence – he did not know if he could ever hate a fellow elf, no matter what they had done.

Had Haldir been given time to follow through with his intentions, he was not sure if he could have subdued hate for him then. He probably would have been too broken to muster enough energy to hate, he realised with a twist of his gut.

"Our differences and past matter no more," Legolas respected the death of his kin, quietly praying to the Valar. However, he could still not bring himself to forgive... he could only honour. "Garo hîdh nen gurth, Haldir. Posto vae. Lle vaethor veleg [Have peace in death, Haldir. Rest well. You are a mighty warrior]."

He was silent for a minute, honouring the fallen immortal. Standing, he stared down at Haldir with sad eyes. He could be no threat now, but no elf should ever have to pay such a price for man's folly of war. This was not entirely man's folly, though, and he chagrined himself for trying to blame them.

He would never forget what had happened to him in Lothlórien and the memories would haunt him eternally, though only three other people knew of how close he had come to losing his entire innocence and even his life.

He had no intention of telling his father. When he arrived home in Mirkwood, if he lived through what was to come, he would only inform the king of the valiant death of Haldir of Lórien. There was no need for any further details and he would not shame himself by being so weak.

It was over. Haldir had paid the ultimate price, as had many other men this day. Saruman's troops were defeated and that was the one good thing that had come from all this bloodshed.

Smiling up at the sky through a stray strand of golden hair, he turned and moved back down the stairs. This was a gruesome victory and they were still alive, which was enough to be thankful for. Aragorn was still healthy to take his fate in hand and step up to the charges demanded of him, which was also important. They had won, though grief did not fade easily and he would bear it for a significant time.

Now he had only to find that accursed dwarf and see how many kills he had made throughout the battle. Surely not more than forty-two...

THE END. BLAH. Stupid and long and rather uneventful... I know. Believe me, I know. :P It was awesome fun to write, though. Thanks for reading this BORING drabble, mellyn nín! I owe you all cookies!