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ragingbookdragon · 1 year ago

Text

I Will Love You Until The End Of The Ages

Haldir of Lothlórien x Reader

Word Count: 4.4K Warnings: None

Author's Note: Yeah...this kinda got away from me but I love this fucking elf just as much as I love Lindir so, have him <3 -Thorne

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An ache spread through her body as she sprinted through the forest, wide-eyed and terrified. She’d barely managed to escape the carnage of her guards being slaughtered, only to be spotted by a rogue orc who’d alerted the others of her escaping. It would not have taken a master to understand exactly what they were going to do to her if they caught her. The thought only pushed her forward as she continued to run, trying her best to hop over logs and bushes in her way.

She’d fallen more than a few times, tripped over hidden tree roots, her shoes fallen off somewhere, feet bleeding from stepping on sharp stones and branches. Her dress had torn from slipping between large rocks to give distance, caught on sharp rose thorns, her legs and arms were cut up beyond belief, fabric strew down her chest, shoulder exposed, but she forbid herself from stopping. The elves of Lothlórien couldn’t have been farther than another mile, but she wasn’t fit for battle, or such bodily exertions and it was taking its toll.

She was practically unable to breathe as she huffed and puffed with raggedness. She could make it. All she had to do was keep going and she’d be upon Lothlórien. They would help her, or at least kill the orcs. If they killed her too, so be it, but at least she wouldn’t die before being defiled. She could make it, she could make it, she could—

A gasp escaped her as her foot caught under a raised root and she hit the ground, elbow burying itself into her side as she hit the ground—hard. The air was knocked from her lungs, and she wheezed as she rolled onto her side, crawling on the ground, trying to get to her feet, but her legs wouldn’t cooperate with her. She could hear them getting closer, their war cries only sealing her fate.

Tears flooded her eyes and as her lungs began to take in air, she hoarsely cried, “He—lp!” she pulled herself towards a tree. “Help!”

She turned, seeing the orcs come upon her and gathered in a half circle, snarling and salivating; tears streamed down her cheeks and though it made no difference she begged, “Mercy. Please, mercy.”

One of them reached for head and she recoiled, screaming bloody murder, her screeches startling the birds from the trees, then an arrow pierced the orc reaching for her and none had a moment to even react before a hail of them rained down. The orcs fell dead, gurgling on black blood and she twisted her head as she saw flashes of gray.

A group of elves appeared, and one knelt beside her. “Are you alright?”

She could barely see him through the tears in her eyes, but his blue eyes shown with a kindness; she reached forward, fumbling for the front of his armor and the second she connected with it, she burst into sobs and cradled herself against him. As if not used to such contact, he awkwardly patted her back before looking towards the elves of his guard and muttering something in his native tongue.

He continued to kneel with her until her sobs eased and she began to go slack against him; when he felt her go completely still, he pulled away slightly, catching sight of her unconscious expression. Pulling her a bit closer, he brought her into his arms and hefted her up with ease and turned his back on the carnage of the dead orcs before following the group deeper into the forest.

***

The air was clear, crisp, the scent of nature filling her lungs as she came to, the veil of night, stars, and the moon shining through the open arch of the window. She blinked, unsure of where she was but before she moved, someone said, “It would not be wise to move. Your wounds are still fresh.”

Startled, she twisted her head, seeing the same elf that had rescued her standing at the door. “Where…where am I?”

He shifted from the door and walked over, taking a seat beside her. “Lothlórien. My patrol heard commotion and your screams.” He gave her an awfully funny look, almost like she was an idiot—she did not like it in the slightest. “Why would you travel between Moria and Dol Goldur? All know it’s unsafe for travel for even the most experience of fighters.”

“The road we usually took had washed out from the rainstorm months ago. We had no choice.”

He cocked a brow. “Why are you travelling?”

She let out a sigh. “Gondor has called the lords of the land from their cities and towns. I am the only living heir to the lord of my land. It was my duty to go and represent my home.” He only made a noise in his throat, a low hum, and she looked at him. “What is your name, so I may thank you properly?”

“Haldir,” he answered. “I am Haldir of Lothlórien.”

“I owe you my life, Haldir of Lothlórien. Whatever you desire, if it is within my capabilities, please only speak it and I shall have it sent for immediately.”

“I find that difficult as your entire party is dead. There is no one to send away.” He immediately found his words too callous as her expression split into grief and she looked away. “I…I apologize. My words were uncalled for.”

“No,” she countered, shaking her head, tears falling down her cheeks. “They are dead, and it is all my fault.” She reached up, wiping her face. “Please forgive me for being so emotional.”

“You are in grieving,” Haldir replied. “There is no shame in expressing such emotion.” He gazed at her. “What is your name?”

She met his gaze, and he felt an awfully funny flutter at the sight of her saddened expression, dewy lashes, and full lips. “I am (Y/N) of Wintergrave. The city to the northwest, just above Emyn Uial and east of the Blue Mountains.”

Haldir tipped his head, bringing a hand to his chest. “I welcome you, Lady (Y/N).”

“Oh, thank you,” she replied, sitting up with a grimace to try and offer the same gesture, though she let out a gasp as something in her side felt like it was splitting.

He gently rose from his seat, pushing her shoulder back down to the bedding. “I have already told you, it is not wise to move. Your wounds are still very fresh.”

“Forgive me,” she whispered. “I just wanted to extend the same kindness you have given me.”

“If you wish to, not harming yourself would be a good start.”

She cracked a smile and laid her head back onto the pillow. “Thank you, Haldir.”

He offered her a polite look. “I shall return with a healer. You should rest.”

“Yes, of course.”

***

Word had been sent back to Wintergrave of their Lady’s untimely run-in with the orcs, the bodies of her men had as well been prepared and sent back for burial. She’d met with Lady Galadriel and Lord Celeborn, expressing many apologies for imposing on them as such. The two elves had found it rather odd that a human who’d been saved and given sanctuary was so apologetic and felt like such a burden for it. Of course, Lady Galadriel and Lord Celeborn had given her more than enough relief and allowed her to stay as long as she needed to recover her strength. The Lady of Lothlórien had even met with her in her room and spoke of the horrors of the orcs and how nightmarish the mind could become after such an attack—she’d expressed to (Y/N) that she could stay until she felt fit to travel and when it was then time, Lady Galadriel would have a group of Marchwardens accompany her to Gondor. (Y/N) had cried and thanked her profusely for her kindness, also extending the same offer that she’d given to Haldir, if Lady Galadriel had ever needed anything all she had to do was speak it.

When she’d finally been able to move without pain from her wounds, which had been many—bruised and cut up feet, legs, and arms, even a rather severe cut along her cheek that was more than likely going to scar—she had taken to exploring what was allowed of Lothlórien that she could. Lady Galadriel had, instead of giving her a lady-in-waiting, assigned Haldir to watch over her, given leave to stay in Lothlórien for some time.

She was rather surprised to see him when she was sitting under one of the great arched platforms, sipping a flavored fruit tea that she only assumed grew in the land here. She had the teacup raised to her lips, watching the fireflies lighting up the night when someone appeared in her peripheral, scaring her half to death.

Jumping, she tried not to spill her tea as she set the cup down and looked up, seeing Haldir standing there, surprisingly with no armor like he usually wore. “Haldir,” she greeted with a smile. “You scared me half to death. Do you not know it is impolite to sneak up on someone, let alone a lady?”

“Apologies,” he said but he didn’t sound too apologetic. “Light feet are something not so easily forgotten when taught since birth.” He gestured to the seat across from her. “May I?”

“Oh, yes! Please!” she chirped, already pouring a cup of tea for him. “Lady Galadriel has been so kind to allow me to stay here in Lothlórien. But I fear I may be overstaying.”

“While it is odd for a human to stay for long periods of time, her ladyship isn’t one to force an innocent to leave.” He picked up his cup. “She has allowed you to stay until you feel ready for leave.”

“Yes,” she agreed, once more looking out. “I almost do not wish to leave Lothlórien though.”

“You do not?”

“Of course not. This place is ethereal. The people even more so.” She looked back at him. “I’ve always found elves so fascinating. Such long periods of life, so graceful and elegant, a beautiful culture and history.” A small, almost embarrassing smile came across her face. “Do not tell anyone I said this, but I’ve always tried to emulate such grace and elegance. To be wise and respectful like such.”

Haldir gazed at her for a long moment—he’d not met many humans who were so modest and ungreedy like (Y/N) was, it was almost refreshing to find such a human. “I’ve not met many humans like you,” he said before he thought about it and his cheeks warmed when she looked at him with surprise.

“Like me?”

He cleared his throat. “I meant, kind and respectful. Many humans are greedy and disrespectful. Loud…and abrasive.”

She frowned. “Yes, my fellow men can often be swayed by earthly desires instead of their honor.” She met his gaze. “I hope I have offered some amnesty on that part. Or perhaps a better view of what some of us can be.”

“You have,” he answered, sipping his tea before he said anything else more foolish.

(Y/N) inhaled and exhaled, as if the world was no longer on her shoulders. “Haldir, what would you be doing if you were not called to be a Marchwarden?”

He blinked in surprise—he’d never given much thought to it. “I…I confess I do not know. Being a Marchwarden is all I have ever known. Even my brothers are such.”

She perked up at that. “You have brothers!” her face split in joy. “Oh, what is it like? I was a lone child to my parents.”

Haldir suddenly went monotone as he replied, “Annoying. My brothers are…quite a handful even on the best days.” A laugh escaped her, and she covered her mouth to hide the giggles and Haldir found himself smiling along with her; when she had calmed, he asked, “What of you, Lady (Y/N)? If you were not the Lady of Wintergrave, what would you be doing?”

“I think…I think I would be a writer,” she answered. “I have always loved listening and telling stories. My mother used to tell me I spent more time with my nose in books than I did learning about how to govern my people.” She felt her cheeks warm, and she glanced at the reflection in her cup. “Stories…allowed me to immerse myself into the freedom I did not have a child.”

“You were not free?”

“I was lonely…and without many friends. Though my people look after one another, there is still a divide in the classes. My family wasn’t detached per say, but we weren’t in constant contact with the common people.” She seemed almost forlorn as she murmured, “My only friends were the heroes in the stories I read.” Almost as if her sadness wasn’t there, she smiled and admitted, “I used to imagine that the heroes were with me in daily life. I would talk to them in my mind and go through life with their council.”

Haldir smiled, but it was rather sad. “I’m sorry that you did not have a friend to call your own as a child, Lady (Y/N).”

Her eyes were kind as she nodded. “Thank you, Haldir.” Taking a leap of faith, she smiled at him. “Perhaps it is lucky that I can call you, a friend now.”

“Indeed.” He smiled back at her, and her heart fluttered at it.

***

“Mae.”

“G’ovan.”

“Nen.”

“Good. Now together. Mae g’ovannen.”

“Mae go-oven.”

Haldir let out a sigh and pinched the bridge of his nose. “That wasn’t even close.”

“It was too!” (Y/N) retorted.

“How on earth did you turn g’ovannen to go-oven?” his expression pinched. “It doesn’t even make any sense.”

She scowled at him and retorted, “I asked you to teach me elvish, not begrudge me.”

“Well, I would teach you my tongue if yours could work properly enough to speak it.”

A huff escaped her. “You are most rude, Haldir. So mean to a kind lady.”

He narrowed his eyes at her and pointed. “You are anything but kind.”

“I take great offense to that.”

“As you should.”

She glared at him, and he her until their scowls gave way to humored smiles and they laughed, leaning on one another.

“Perhaps a break is in store for us,” Haldir suggested, and she nodded, rising from her seat.

“I think that is a splendid idea, lest we begin screaming at one another in our native tongues.”

Haldir held out his arm and she took it, letting him escort her to their usual tea spot. As they sat down, a few elves decorated the table with a teapot and two cups along with sweet cookies for them. “Ni ‘lassui En,” Haldir murmured with a nod, and she smiled at them, tipping her head.

“Thank you!”

As he poured their cups, she gazed at him, taking in the sight of the elf at peace. He was rather handsome. Long, beautiful blonde hair, strong nose and jaw, gorgeous blue eyes. She couldn’t deny an attraction to him, but that was just physical. Haldir was a good man. Loyal, honorable, kind, and fiercely protective of his home and those he loved.

“Is there something on my face?”

She blinked, cheeks warming, and she looked down. “No, my apologies for staring.”

“I am not offended,” he simply answered and turned the plate, offering the strawberry tart.

“How did you—”

“You always eat them first when they are offered.”

“I…” she smiled. “I wasn’t aware you were paying such attention.”

Haldir’s cheeks tinted crimson, and he cleared his throat. “Yes, well, it is good to make notice of your surroundings and what others engage in.”

“Uh huh,” she answered cheekily, smiling through his attempt at a scowl; she sipped her tea, asking, “Have you heard word of the Fellowship lately?”

“They are traveling to Isengard.” He looked grim. “I have not heard such great news if I am entirely honest.”

Her expression turned solemn, and she reached forward, placing a hand on his. “Whatever happens, I know you will do what I right by honor, Haldir.”

He looked at her, gently turning his hand up to gently thumb at her wrist. “I confess, (Y/N), I have come to enjoy our time together. These last few months have been…the greatest joy I’ve come to know.”

“As have I, Haldir,” she replied softly. “I do believe at this point I have entirely overstayed my welcome, but I find that when I am making a mind to leave…you, come to my mind.”

“Truly?”

She swallowed thickly and admitted, “I confess to you, Haldir, I…” she let out a sigh and steeled her nerves. “I am withholding feelings for you. In fact, every time I see and speak to you, my feelings only nurture.” She suddenly felt so exposed and rose from her seat, walking to the rail, gazing out at the nighted forest. “I know it is unwise to feel this way for you. You, an immortal, and me, a mortal. It is doomed from start to finish.” Her expression turned dejected. “Still though, I cannot feel the desire to remove you from my heart. You have stolen it.”

She waited for rejection, for laughter, for disbelief. Anything, but when his hand came to her lower back and he took her chin in his other hand, turning her face to him, she was surprised to see a look of fondness on it.

“Haldir…?”

He tipped his head down, lips brushing hers as he whispered, “Lady (Y/N), might I bestow a kiss to you?”

“I…please,” she pleaded, shutting her eyes and he sealed their lips, her body turning to face him as she raised her arms, hands winding around his neck as his wound around her waist.

Haldir felt his heart beating wildly in his chest, in his pulse like he was in battle, but this was so much more adrenaline-pumping than a fight. He knew she needed air, he did too, but the feeling of her lips against his made his heart soar and only when she tipped her head down, panting against his jaw, did Haldir come to the realization that he was madly in love with the woman he rescued all those months ago.

“I,” she breathed deeply. “I hope I am not naïve in assuming that this means you also feel for me?”

He took her chin in his hand again, pressing his lips to her eyelids and then her lips, once, twice, thrice, and murmured, “I would march to Mordor itself it meant you would be waiting for me.”

She giggled girlishly and shifted in his grip. “Well, you certainly know how to make a woman smile.”

“The only woman who matters.”

“Haldir…many will judge us, your people and mine, let alone the other races.”

He nodded solemnly. “Then I will declare that my love for you is endless.”

She looked up at him. “You know I will die before you…yes?”

Again, he nodded, though this time it looked as if the air had been taken from him; he took a breath. “Even so, I will love you until the end of the age.”

(Y/N) smiled up at him. “I…I love you, Haldir.”

“Melin gin,” Haldir professed, though he seemed upset.

“You are downhearted.”

He nodded. “Lord Elrond has come. I am to lead an army to Helm’s Deep and assist the fight against the orcs.”

“No…”

“I must,” he said. “It is my duty.” She frowned, tried to turn her head away but he wouldn’t let her. “Él gûr,” he murmured. “You have loved me enough to meet me in this age, love me enough to know I will come back.”

“But what if you do not?”

Haldir gazed at her, thumbing her lip. “If I do not, I want you to do your duty. I want you to find love again and live the life with someone like we wanted to.”

Tears flooded her eyes. “But I want it with you.” She grasped at his tunic. “I want that life with you, Haldir.”

“Then I will do my duty and come back to you.” He searched her gaze. “Melin gin, (Y/N).”

She felt her lips wobble, but she promised in return, “Melin gin, Haldir.”

***

Word had reached Lothlórien that many of the elves sent had fallen in battle, yet no word had ever been spoken of Haldir. It had her one pins and needles, many times seeking council with Lady Galadriel who merely listened to her worries and commanded, or urged her, to keep heart, that evil could just as easily take over a heart in grief.

She somehow managed to steel herself and when the trumpets sounded, signaling the return of the soldiers, she rushed down with many of the healers, waiting to know if her love had returned or if he had perished. She watched as soldier after soldier, the ones that had survived, passed by, yet she never saw Haldir. Her heart ached in her chest, and she hurried into the thicket of soldiers being attended to.

“Please, someone tell me where Haldir is!” she pleaded. “Has he fallen! I must know!”

Many of the elves stared at her, brows pinched like they couldn’t understand why she was so upset, but one stood among the fray and caught her attention.

“Haldir cuina.”

She shook her head. “I don’t…? I don’t understand.”

The elf frowned, gesturing around like he was searching for the word before muttering, “Life.”

(Y/N)’s eyes widened, and she grasped his arms. “Haldir is alive? He lives?” The elf nodded and she laughed tearfully, relief flooding her body as she knew her love was alive.

***

It was a rather beautiful ceremony, seeing Aragorn crowned king, Arwen, his beautiful bride beside him. She stood next to the other Lords and Ladies of Middle Earth, pledging their alliance to the king. And while the ceremony was one for the memories, the feast that had come after was one for the ages.

Laughter, joy, and happy tears escaped the members of the palace, the esteemed fellowship all at the front with Aragorn and Arwen. Even Lady Galadriel and Lord Celeborn had shown up and she waved at them from her spot on the table, them giving knowing smiles in return. She still hadn’t seen Haldir, but no one, especially Legolas or Aragorn had yet to pull her aside and tell her otherwise, so she held out hope that they were simply missing each other at different turns in the same city.

Air called to her after many rounds of wine and ale and she was given permission to go to the ledge of the higher quarters, which she appreciated greatly, extending her thanks to the King and Queen.

(Y/N) stand at the balcony, watching the parading and partying in the street. Rebuilding would certainly come soon, but for now, the greatest evil known had been vanquished and the people would look forward to a future of happiness. She look to the heavens, closing her eyes as she said a quiet prayer to the elven Gods, that they would send Haldir to her.

As soon as she finished, she opened her eyes, and seeing something in her peripheral, spun, screeching like a bat at the scare. However, a hand slammed, carefully, against her mouth followed by, “Él gûr, be at peace. It is me!”

She blinked and gaped at Haldir, suddenly surging forward with ecstatic joy as she latched onto him. “Haldir!” she burst out.

He laughed, wrapping his arms around her. “I have come home to you, (Y/N).” She pulled away, tears in her eyes and he sighed fondly at her. “You are such a crybaby.”

“I’ve waited so long for you, my love,” she confessed in tears, struggling to wipe the seemingly endless flood of them away. “So long I waited for you to come home. On the worst nights I feared someone would tell me they found your body and I would have to go on without you.”

Haldir frowned. “I’m sorry for keeping you so long, él gûr. It was never my intention.” He gently pushed some hair behind her ear. “The war was long, and traveling was difficult. But I have held my promise to come home.”

She tipped her head to the side. “You will still have me? And a life with me? Despite the hurt in our future?”

He inhaled deeply and murmured, “I have thought long about this, (Y/N). And of all I know, I know this the best—we are never promised happiness. If we find it, especially love, we must hold tight to it and never let go.” He gazed at her. “You will inevitably die before me. But I know that however many years we get with each other, we will love and hold fast to it.” Tears dripped down her cheeks and he leaned forward, kissing them away. “Do not cry, él gûr.”

“These are tears of happiness,” (Y/N) replied with a laugh, and looked at him, taking his hands in hers. “I promise by the light of this moon, that I will love and cherish you for all of the time I am given, Haldir of Lothlórien. May the love we have bloom for ages and never die.”

Haldir leaned down and nuzzled her nose. “And I promise to you, (Y/N) of Wintergrave, that so long as I live, even when you are gone, I will remember and hold dear to the love we nurtured.” He smiled at her. “And I will love and cherish our children and teach them always of their mother who loved them more than the world.”

“We aren’t even married yet!” she spluttered, and his smile turned into a smirk.

“Are you trying to tell me that you do not wish to have a family? Él gûr, I am hurt by this.”

“That is not what I said!”

“I am fairly certain it is.”

“It is not!”

The night in Gondor was warm, joy filled the streets, love filled the hearts of the people together, hobbits, dwarves, elves, and men had once again forged a bond deeper than blood. And they all looked to a brighter future the next day—and perhaps another wedding!

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ragingbookdragon · 1 year ago

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There Is Always A Reason

Lindir of Rivendell x Reader

Word Count: 1.2K Warnings: Nothing, except sappiness maybe

Author's Note: Oh hey, I made a gay elf :) -Thorne

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Relationships of the same sex amongst elves wasn’t uncommon, but it also wasn’t as occurring as the opposite sex ones. The elves had noticed with more or less speculation that it was the humans who had a lack of more understanding when it came to relationships, but then again, if humans didn’t marry and produce heirs, their race would die out—for elves, copulation wasn’t necessarily a major issue as most only ever had two or three heirs. That being said, the elves welcomed love amongst their race, never shied away from the men and women amongst themselves having relationships or attraction to the same sex.

It was, exactly that that brought him to Rivendell from Lórien. A chance at seeing the attendant of Lord Elrond while he was on guard duty for Lady Galadriel, had set his soul aflame with desire. Of course, he had to get leave from the Lady of Light herself, who saw right through his excuses with a hidden, amused smile, knowing he was a youngling, trying to impress a new love.

I just think, perhaps having a messenger between Mirkwood to Rivendell to Lórien is a thoughtful idea, My Lady.

Yes, like the messenger we already have…doing the exact description you have described.

Oh…right…yes, that messenger. I had forgotten that we already had a messenger. You know, Lady Galadriel, perhaps it would be—oh who am I trying to fib? My Lady, I want to see Lindir. That’s why I want to go. I just…want to see him again.

I know.

You know?

I know.

Right…I often forget you can see far beyond our eyes.

I do need a message taken to Rivendell. This, to my dearest Arwen, a letter for only her eyes. And this one for Elrond. Make sure they get them.

I—yes, My Lady! Thank you, My Lady!

And that was how he’d managed to get back to Rivendell, somehow ending up training some of Elrond’s soldiers as well—he hadn’t become part of Lady Galadriel and Lord Celeborn’s personal guard without skill. It was thorough and hard work, the elves of Rivendell hadn’t seen training like this for decades, perhaps centuries at least. With the threat of Sauron gone (mostly), what battle was there to fight except for the rare orc skirmish? He knew that Lord Elrond’s men enjoyed the challenge, he also knew they absolutely hated how ragged he ran them, pushing them to even the most extremes that their race could handle. It was only three days before half the group was begging for a day of relief, and he, seeing a chance at even speaking to Lindir, agreed.

He found Lindir underneath a plum tree, singing quietly to himself as he scribbled in his notebook. It was…a breathtaking sight, to see the beams of the evening sun haloing around Lindir’s crown, the soft look on his face half shadowed, brown eyes a stunning copper, gold flecks reflecting orange in the rays. He looked beautiful. And it was the weight of his stare that caught Lindir’s attention, hair standing on the back of his neck as startled and embarrassed eyes meet lovesick ones; Lindir, in a rush, snapped the notebook shut, snapping his mouth closed and stared at him while his cheeks turned crimson.

He fumbled with the words to come out of his mouth before he settled on, “I sincerely apologize, Lindir. I meant not to disturb you.”

Lindir swallowed thickly and shook his head. “No, I was not aware that someone was here. Forgive me for not noticing your presence before, my Lord.”

“Don’t call me ‘Lord’.” He laughed, walking over to take a seat on the bench a few feet from him. “I’m simply a soldier.”

“Of high regard,” Lindir retorted. “Your father was Lord Celeborn’s right hand. You were raised in fashion similar to them.”

“Perhaps,” he said, shrugging his soldiers. “But I am no one’s lord. I am simply a soldier, as I said.”

“A good one.”

“Oh? You think so?”

Lindir cleared his throat, face hot. “I mean that I have simply seen your training as of late.”

“So, you’ve been watching?”

“Observing.”

“You could do more than observe, Lindir.”

At that, Lindir laughed in a rather surprised fashion. “I am not a fighter.”

“Oh, everyone is a fighter for something,” he replied, taking the chance to get closer to him by shifting from the bench to sit next to Lindir under the tree. “There is always something that will drive a person to pick up a weapon. Love, greed, pride, rage, grief. There is always a reason.”

“What of you?” he asked, tipping his head to the side. “What do you fight for?”

He paused, thinking deeply about Lindir’s question before he murmured, “Being a soldier is all I have ever known. It is what my father did, and it is what I was raised to do.”

“Haven’t you ever wished to do something else?”

His gaze met Lindir’s, and he said softly, “I have always wished to be someone’s one and only.”

Lindir’s cheeks tinged red again, but a rather enchanted look came over his face. “Is that so?”

“Mhm. I sometimes think about laying down my duty and going with my lover across the land. Just the two of us. Traveling, experiencing things we have never seen or done before.” He smiled. “I eventually want to settle down by the water. A small cabin. Just big enough for us. With everything we need.”

“And your one and only…” Lindir started. “Has she decided to go with you?”

He blinked, looked over at Lindir, saw the hesitation in the elf’s gaze before he chuckled under his breath and replied, “Actually, he has yet to decide anything.” Lindir’s eyebrows rose, but he said nothing. “Most likely because I have yet to court him,” he added, scratching his jaw.

“This elf…at least an elf, I assume? Where is he?”

“Oh, he is in Rivendell. I managed to get leave from Lórien to come here just to see him.”

“Truly?”

“Well, Lady Galadriel sent me with messages for her family, but in all, I am here to court him.”

“Who is it?” Lindir asked. “Is it one of the soldiers you are training?” he seemed to think to himself. “That would make much sense if it were.”

He sighed fondly at the melodist before he rose and plucked a soft, pink, plum blossom from the branch of the tree, bent down and gently placed it behind Lindir’s ear, unable to help but trace the elf’s soft cheek as he pulled back.

“It is, in fact, not one of the soldiers I am training, but someone of much more esteemed company.” He smiled warmly at the look of pure shock on Lindir’s face that quickly changed into a giddy, almost flustered look. “I should retire for the evening though. I know training tomorrow will be much more difficult.” As he walked off, he paused, turned, and asked, “Lindir, would you like to accompany me on a ride tomorrow evening? Just the two of us?”

Lindir’s heart pounded in his chest, and he nodded his head, the corners of his lips rising into a smile. “Yes, I—I would love to.”

He smiled, nodded once, and replied, “Then I shall find you tomorrow evening. Until then, Lindir.”

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