For kenazfiction: Longest Night (Elladan/Haldir, Teen)
Title: Longest Night
Author: Minuial Nuwing
Email: minuial_nuwing@yahoo.com
Beta: Midnight Chaos (aka Dorkfish Girl) - Thanks, punk!
Genre: FPS, but just barely
Rating: Teen
Pairing/Characters: Elladan/Haldir
Disclaimer: Not mine, more’s the pity. No money, no fame.
Summary: Elladan and Haldir share a midwinter night in Imladris.
A/N: Written for the lovely and talented kenazfiction in the LotR SeSa 2013 exchange, in response to this request: Slash or Gen. Or Gen with UST/ homoerotic subtext. Favorite characters: Haldir, Legolas, Elladan, Halbarad, Thranduil, Beleg
Scenario/Prompt: A winter ritual, or perhaps an appearance or mention of holly, fire, and antlers.
Hope you enjoy it, darling. Merry Christmas!
Longest Night
Watching Elladan effortlessly scale the frozen cliff while he himself still struggled to find a solid hold on the second broken face, Haldir sorely regretted the many times he had teased a young peredhel nearly to tears in the treetops of Lórien.
“Having problems, marchwarden?”
The sight of Elladan’s smug grin beaming down on him from the top of the bluff was as much as Haldir could stand. “If not climbing sheer rock like some sort of overgrown black lizard is a problem, then yes, I am,” he yelled grumpily.
“What did you call me?”
“Overgrown. Black. Lizard,” Haldir snarled. “Possibly related to the Fell Beasts, but wingless.”
Elladan laughed delightedly. “And you, my friend, are a disgruntled tree frog on a bare mountain. Wait a minute…here,” he said, and a thin grey rope dropped over the edge of the cliff to dangle before Haldir’s eyes. “Maybe this will make it a bit more like home.”
Haldir hesitated, reluctant to accept the aid, and Elladan sighed. “Come on, Hal,” he called, “Grab the rope and get up here. If you fall, I will have to scramble back down and haul your sorry arse to the top, and then neither of us will feel much like celebrating.”
Giving in, Haldir caught the rope and was climbing swiftly hand-over-hand when a sharp tug jerked him over the rim to land on the snow-covered ground at Elladan’s side. “You could’ve killed me!” he spluttered, the protest more show than substance.
Elladan merely grinned. “Give back my rope and come help with the fire. It will get cold once the sun sets.”
“This isn’t cold?” Haldir snipped automatically, but he was already coiling the rope, dropping it beside Elladan’s pack before turning to look over the spot where his friend apparently intended to pass the night.
The small clearing was surrounded on two sides by towering evergreens and stunted holly trees, the other boundaries marked by the precipice they had just scaled and the wide crevasse that separated the space from a similar bare spot to the right. Just clear of the evergreens stood a crude lean-to, a well-used fire ring before it, and Haldir dropped his own pack from his shoulders and began collecting tinder to spark the split logs already piled beside the pit.
“Elrohir and I used to spend every Longest Night here,” Elladan said, leaning over to dust snow from the firewood before piling several logs atop the smaller pieces Haldir had collected, “and I have always come here from time to time to think. To dream.”
Haldir nodded silently, unsure how to answer. He did not dislike Elrohir, of course, but from the time the twins reached adulthood, from the very day Elladan had ceased to be a responsibility and become a friend, he had nursed a vague jealously that he could not fully explain or, indeed, even interpret. Whether he was envious of the bond Elrohir shared with Elladan or simply unsettled that he did not share a similar closeness with his own brothers, he had long considered Elrohir a necessary evil, an appendage that must be tolerated if he wanted to enjoy his friend’s company. Now, in a somewhat bizarre twist of fate, Elrohir was in Lórien, held there for the present by love of his Silvan wife and ruling in his grandfather’s stead, while Haldir was in Imladris with Celeborn, helping to oversee the ultimate dissolution of the once golden realm.
“I know you must miss Elrohir terribly,” Haldir said finally, the words somewhat stiff but sincerely meant. “I would gladly trade places with your brother, were it possible-“
“Hal,” Elladan broke in, laying both hands on Haldir’s shoulders and staring into his friend’s eyes, “don’t be an idiot.” Haldir’s chin came up defiantly. “And don’t go all proper and respectful on me, either,” Elladan warned. “If you call me ‘my lord,’ I swear I will knee you. Right in the balls.”
“I’d like to see you try,” Haldir shot back, giving Elladan a shove, but he was smiling again as he said it. “Light the damn fire before we both lose them to frostbite. My lord.”
Elladan chuckled but did as he was told, and soon there was a small fire burning cheerfully before the shelter. Haldir helped spread the heavy stitched furs that served as a groundsheet, then watched with a vague sense of disquiet as Elladan unfolded one of the two woolen blankets and smoothed it over the furs before turning to look at his companion. “What?”
“All that great house, and there were only two blankets to be had?”
An expression that Haldir could not quite decipher flickered across Elladan’s face, settling at last into the tiniest of twinkles in his impossibly wide grey eyes. “Serendipitous, isn’t it?”
“Only if you enjoy an icy wind up your back.”
“Or a warm body curled around it.”
Haldir shot his friend a sharp look. “Are you flirting with me, Dan?”
“Do you want me to?”
There was a somewhat strained silence. “To be honest,” Haldir said slowly, “I’m not quite sure.”
“Then you may be sure that I am not,” Elladan retorted, his teasing grin firmly back in place. “Must be your imagination.”
The sun was setting quickly, slipping behind the opposing peaks, and it was already dusk in the valley below when the last golden rays disappeared, leaving the clearing in rapidly fading twilight. The chill rose almost at once and Haldir moved to the fire, folding himself to sit on the blanket with an ease that would have been completely real only moments before, but was now cursed by his over-analyzing mind. Was he too close to the center of the blanket, forcing Elladan to sit in newly unwelcome proximity? Or too far to the end, perhaps? Would Elladan think he was intentionally shunning even casual contact? The sudden warmth of Elladan’s hand on his arm caused him to jump, and he smiled tentatively. “Sorry. I was lost in thought.”
“It’s okay, Hal,” Elladan said, giving his friend’s arm a quick squeeze. “I am not going to forcibly ravage you.” When Haldir opened his mouth to protest that he was expecting no such thing, Elladan cut him off with a gentle shake. “And I am not going to force you to sit in silence and watch me brood, either.” Pulling a generously-sized silver flask of miruvor from his pack, he took a swig and then passed the cordial to Haldir. “Have a drink and tell me how your brothers fare in the new age.”
The night deepened quickly as they talked, the stars shining brightly even before the moon rose blue-white, lighting the small clearing with an other-worldly glow. “Why do you come here to mark Midwinter?” Haldir asked curiously, taking another sip of miruvor before passing the flask back to Elladan. “What is special about this place?”
“Roh and I used to come here with Ada when we were very small,” Elladan said, smiling slightly in reminiscence as he leaned over to shove another log onto the fire. “We would come with sunset and wait to see if the spirit of the valley would appear when the moon reached its zenith. If he appears, you make a wish and it will surely come true. Some years he appeared and other years he did not, but Ada said he was always watching.” Elladan shrugged. “It likely sounds a foolish tradition to an outsider, but Roh and I have kept it, nonetheless.” His expression saddened. “Only war and vengeance ever prevented us from waiting for him.”
“Then I am honored to be here with you,” Haldir said soberly. “But what does he look like?”
Elladan smiled and handed back the flask. “You will know him when you see him, marchwarden.”
“And your wishes have come true, have they?”
“Many of them,” Elladan said gravely, staring off toward the adjacent clearing. “And the most important decision of my life was made here, as well.”
Haldir lifted an eyebrow in encouragement. “Yes?”
“It was several centuries after Nana was taken,” Elladan began, “and we had been questing, ‘Roh and I, almost without rest or respite. But the anger and pain and hatred were still as fresh as the day we found her in that cave-“ Elladan swallowed thickly and Haldir reached over to clasp his arm “-it was overwhelming. It seemed that the horror would never end, that the future held only death and fire and vengeance.” He sighed. “We had always thought we would swear ourselves to eternity, to our parents’ kindred, but mortality began to seem an escape, an end to the guilt and anguish.”
Haldir stared, aghast. Never had it occurred to him that Elladan might have turned from elfkind, that he might have lost his dearest friend to a mortal death.
“So we came here on the Longest Night and decided to let the valley itself determine our fate,” Elladan went on, a trace of sadness yet lingering in his eyes. “If the spirit appeared, we would chose Ada’s path. If not, we would follow Uncle Elros.”
“And he appeared,” Haldir whispered, horrified at the idea of such a decision left to the whims of some unknown force.
“Actually, he did not.”
“What?”
“He did not,” Elladan repeated, “but, long before the fated hour, I realized that I was praying as I had never prayed before - praying that he would appear. Which meant, of course, that I was praying for eternity.” He smiled, then, a genuine smile that warmed Haldir’s heart. “As was ’Roh. We declared ourselves before the moon even rose.”
“I am glad,” Haldir said simply, and they fell into a comfortable silence as the moon moved higher over the mountain peaks, the vague shadows waning as it settled directly overhead. Haldir had an eerie sensation of being watched by unseen eyes, a shiver running unexpectedly up his spine, and he grabbed Elladan’s arm. “Dan-"
“Shhhh,” Elladan warned, his lips nearly brushing Haldir’s ear. “Look.”
Haldir followed his friend’s nod to the small clearing that lay across the crevasse, his breath hitching as an enormous stag appeared from the treeline and walked to the very edge of the cliff. Though Haldir knew the beast must be the usual grey, its coat gleamed like mithril in the moonlight, its monstrous rack of antlers shimmering white against the blue-black sky. The stag stood motionless for a long moment and then turned and looked toward the fire, its eyes gleaming like starshine, though there was intelligence, too, in the gaze that seemed to pierce Haldir’s heart.
“The spirit of Imladris,” Elladan murmured, his breath warm and moist against cold skin. “Make a wish.”
Haldir, his eyes still fixed on the far clearing, obeyed.
They watched in silence until the animal turned and left the glade, disappearing into the trees without a backward glance, then Elladan turned to look at Haldir, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Impressive, isn’t he?”
“Very,” Haldir agreed, glancing back toward the spot where the beast had slipped into the forest. “Do you suppose-“
“I don’t know,” Elladan interrupted. “He certainly could be an ordinary stag in a long line of ordinary stags, though he is quite large and his color striking. And those eyes. But it matters little, really."
Haldir nodded in understanding. “It is the tradition that is important, in the end.” He looked at Elladan curiously. “Did you make a wish?”
“I did.”
“What did you wish for?”
“I believe I will keep it to myself and see if it comes true,” Elladan said, smiling slightly. “And you?”
Haldir did not answer, instead leaning over to capture Elladan’s mouth in a slow, lingering kiss. Pulling away at last, he stared at his friend intently. “Are you going to slug me?”
“No,” Elladan breathed, reaching up to cup Haldir’s cheek, tracing one sharply angled cheekbone with his thumb. “I most definitely am not.”
“Then my wish just came true.”
A brilliant grin lit Elladan’s face, and Haldir’s heart swelled with the pure joy of the moment. “So,” Elladan admitted cheekily, “did mine.”
*~*~*~*~*