LOTR FIC: In a Shady Bower (1/3)

[fimbrethiel]

Title:  In a Shady Bower (1/3)
Author:  Fimbrethiel
LiveJournal:  http://www.livejournal.com/users/fimbrethiel/
Email:  fimbrethiel @ yahoo.com
Type:  FPS
Pairing:  Glorfindel Haldir/Rúmil/Orophin/Celeborn in various permutations
Rating:  NC-17
Warnings:  Incest between siblings.  Explicit depictions of homoerotic acts between consenting males.  Romance. Unrepentant lack of plot.  Also, really, really filthy. *grin*
Disclaimer:  Don’t own the Elves, they are owned by Tolkien’s estate.  Master Tolkien, I mean no harm.  No profit has been made.
Beta:  Nuwing. *massive hugs*  Any remaining errors are mine.

Original date of completion: April 2, 2006

Summary:  In the end, what do we really have left but love?  The Lórien brothers make their lord an offer he is powerless to refuse.

Author’s Note:  Author’s Note:  I’ve always wondered about the subtext underlying Celeborn’s words to Aragorn in the final chapters of The Return of the King.  This short story is the result of an overactive imagination.

For Denise (sian265)'s birthday, either seven-months-belated, or five-months-early. She wanted the Lórien trio and lots of smut based on a photo manip by The Theban Band. She got it. :)

*~*~*~*~*

“Then Aragorn took leave of Celeborn and Galadriel; and the Lady said to him: ‘Elfstone, through darkness you have come to your hope, and have now all your desire.  Use well the days!’

‘But Celeborn said:  ‘Kinsman, farewell!  May your doom be other than mine, and your treasure remain with you to the end!’”

          ‘Many Partings’, The Return of the King

*~*~*~*~*

Lothlórien, Middle-earth, Year 1 of the Fourth Age

“There he is, just about to round the bend in the path,” Haldir whispered to his siblings, who were seated just above him in the branches of the giant mallorn.  “Are you both ready?  He may resist; use only the force necessary to ensure his compliance, but whatever you do, make sure he is not injured.”

Orophin shook his head uneasily, the slight quaver in his voice confirming his uncertainty about what he and his brothers were proposing to do.  “And I will repeat for the hundredth time:  you both realize that if he takes offense, we could be banished from the Wood and all this planning will be for naught?”

Rúmil, perched in the crotch of a deeply veed branch and slightly behind and above Orophin, reached down and clasped his younger brother’s shoulder in a reassuring grip.  “It will be well, Oro.  Trust us, all right?”

Haldir peered down through the verdant canopy of greens and yellows and quickly silenced them.  “Hush, here he comes!”

Lord Celeborn’s route was predictable; the only variation was his mood.  On some days his steps were light and he sang as he walked, but as the weeks and months since the Lady’s sailing passed his gray eyes were more often downcast and his step heavy.  Today was one such day.

As he drew nearer to their hiding place, Haldir dropped easily from his branch and landed with barely a thump in the middle of the path.  He stood still as stone, waiting for the lord’s approach.

Celeborn was lost deep in thought and did not notice Haldir’s presence until he had come nearly nose-to-nose with the Captain of the Wood.  With a start, he looked up and realized that he was no longer alone.

“Haldir.  Where did you come from?”

The Captain clenched his fist over his heart and bowed his head deferentially.  “Good day, my lord.”

Haldir’s manifestation out of thin air caused Celeborn to look around circumspectly as he realized the Marchwarden was unarmed.  “Good day, Captain… er, if I am not mistaken, was it not your turn for patrol this week?”

“My second took this rotation,” Haldir replied with a glib shrug of his shoulders.

To Celeborn’s further disquiet, the Captain blew a piercing whistle between two fingers and, from the branches above, two Elves dropped to the ground beside him.  Rúmil and Orophin, without a glance at their brother, started toward the Silver Lord, each holding a long strip of cloth in his hands.

Celeborn warily took a step back, looking in apprehension from one brother to the next.  He was a large and strong Elf, easily able to defend himself, but he had been caught unawares, lost deep in memories.  Before he fully realized what was happening, Rúmil was standing behind him, binding his wrists together.

“What do you think you are doing?” Celeborn demanded, as a strip of fabric was slipped over his eyes and bound securely, not tightly, but snugly enough that there was no chance of the blinder slipping off.

“You have known us since we were big enough to wield sword and bow, Celeborn; you know that we will do you no harm.  Now step carefully and trust us to lead you well.”

Celeborn recognized the smooth timbre of Orophin’s voice speaking quietly into his left ear and felt the touch of a hand against the small of his back, gently urged him forward, while another hand tucked into the crook of his elbow guiding him along.

There was little choice but to follow where he was led.  Haldir’s long, sure strides led the way while large, warm hands grasped his biceps, Rúmil on one side and Orophin behind – the siblings had served their lord for years enough that he could discern the patterns of their strides – vigilantly leading him over rocks and tree roots that traversed the narrow path.  Deprived of sight, Celeborn’s remaining senses kept him from stumbling, though his escorts’ firm grips steadied him.  The path narrowed until at points, they were forced to walk almost single-file.

“Almost there.”  Haldir’s voice floated back to him from somewhere ahead, and a few short moments later, the group came to a halt.  Celeborn could smell the change in the air; it was rich and fragrant with pine and spruce, and warmer than the breeze that rustled through the mellryn high above.  From somewhere beyond, a brook or stream burbled gently.  The ground was soft and springy underfoot.  Obviously, from the close feel of the air and the muffled sound of water, they had left the path and were now in a shelter of some sort.

Until this moment, Celeborn would have been willing to assert that he knew every square inch of his beloved forest, but even deprived of sight, he knew this was one spot that had escaped his notice.  He had no idea where his captors had brought him, though he was certain they were still within the boundaries of the Wood.  What he felt was not fear for his safety, exactly; Celeborn knew the brothers to be upstanding and highly principled Elves, but it was not every day that one was bound at the wrists, blindfolded, and led deep into the woods by three of his own wardens.  Abduction had been, literally, one of the furthest things from Celeborn’s mind during his daily hike.  He was curious more so than worried, and, he admitted to himself, intrigued.

”I will remove the blindfold now, but for the moment will leave your hands bound.”

Haldir’s voice sounded from behind him, deftly working the knot at the back of his head free.  “You could still escape easily enough, but the thought of returning to the city with your hands tied behind your back and being forced to explain how you were waylaid by your own guardians should be enough of a deterrent to keep you here at least until you hear us out.  And then, we shall see what we shall see.”

Celeborn blinked a few times when the strip of cloth was removed from his eyes.  Golden sunlight filtered down through the mellryn standing overhead, yet surrounding them was a small copse of evergreens, their heavy branches drooping to form a bower of sorts, filtering sun, wind, and sound into a cozy sanctuary.  Under his feet, the forest floor was littered with spongy pine needles scattered with mallorn leaves, over which a few blankets had been spread.  Curiously, near the ‘wall’, if it could properly be called such, there was a leather satchel laying on the ground, a small pail, and a woven basket from which loaves of bread and a bottle of wine poked out.  It was clear this abduction was premeditated.

“Explain yourselves.  Now.”

“If we unbind your hands, will you stay and listen?”  Haldir countered, raising a pale brow.

“I am thrice outnumbered, Captain; it does not appear that I have much of a choice, does it?” Celeborn replied archly.  “Now untie me this moment.  I give you my word I will hear you out.  But,” he cautioned with a stern glare that would have turned the blood of lesser Elves to ice, “do not think you are above censure because of your positions as favored Guardians.  You will be punished for this transgression if I deem the situation is not explained to my satisfaction.”

Together the trio nodded.  “We understand, my lord,” Haldir answered, “but first hear us out.  If you find that what we offer does not meet your approval, we will accept our due.”

He waited until Celeborn nodded in acquiescence and then motioned to Rúmil.  The younger Elf untied the lord’s wrists and motioned Celeborn to be seated on the blanket.  The four sat cross-legged in the dappled sunlight while Rúmil broke off hunks of crusty bread and passed them around.  Orophin uncorked the wine and withdrew four glasses, each wrapped carefully in heavy paper, then filled the goblets and handed one to each of his companions.

Celeborn sipped his wine and picked at his bread, waiting for one of them to break the silence.

“Would you believe us if we told you that this was the Lady’s idea?” Haldir said suddenly.

“My wife came up with this ploy?” Celeborn exclaimed in disbelief.

Orophin lowered his eyes and became suddenly engrossed in studying the weave of the blanket; irrepressible Rúmil flashed a trace of a grin.  Haldir, however, met his gaze directly, unwavering and solemn.  “She did,” he replied.

“For what purpose?”

“She did not think you would come with us willingly, nor agree to our proposition had we approached you within the walls of Caras Galadhon,” Haldir explained, ignoring for the moment the look of utter incredulity that crossed Celeborn’s face.

“I haven’t the slightest idea what you are talking about, Haldir.  What ‘proposition’?  Perhaps you had better start at the beginning.  And pour more wine, Orophin,” he added as an afterthought.  “I believe I shall need it ere we are through.”

Orophin filled his lord’s glass and in a quiet, steady voice began the tale of Galadriel’s visit to the brothers’ talan in the weeks before her sailing.  “She had long feared the day would come when your fates would be sundered, but held fast to the hope that she could persuade you to come with her to the Havens.  But when you refused, when she was faced with the certainty of your choice, she was devastated.”

Celeborn nodded slowly, remembering the ferocious argument that had ensued when he had finally confirmed his wife’s long-time fear that he would forever forsake the Undying Lands.  It was simply beyond Galadriel’s reckoning that her husband would not wish live out his days by her side in the Blessed Realm.

For Galadriel’s part, over four thousand years of bearing a Ring of Power had left her weary and tempered of pride.  Now, receiving the pardon of the Lords of the West for her misdeeds, whether overt or in thought, she had yearned to return to the land of her birth, to see her beloved daughter again and humble herself before the Valar.

But Celeborn was an Elf of Middle-earth, born in Doriath of Telerin folk who had turned aside from the Great Journey before reaching the Great Sea.  He had lived among her trees and rivers his entire life, and the thought of ever leaving her filled him with great sorrow.  He could not deny that the Sea-longing was strong, but the draw of Wood and mountain of the Hither Lands – his home – was far stronger.

In the end, amid bitter tears, they came to a melancholy impasse and realized neither would reconsider.  Rather than spend their remaining time together in acrimony, they focused on remembering the past in a bittersweet reminiscence of the love they had shared, while they slowly drifted apart and bolstered their hearts for the parting that would soon come.

It seemed to Celeborn that in the months before her sailing, Galadriel had been extraordinarily solicitous to his well-being, even more so than was her wont, often pausing in her needlework or from gathering flowers in the gardens below in order to gaze thoughtfully up at him where he sat on a flet, his mind far away in the land of Elvish dreams.  Occasionally he would feel the weight of her gaze upon him and look down at her questioningly, and she would give him a placid smile, nod secretively to herself, and then resume her business.

When the morning of her departure dawned, they had made love one last time, not through any great desire or passion, but as a commemoration of the bond they once shared, before their parting unto the end of the world.

Rúmil picked up the thread of his brother’s tale.  “Shortly thereafter, we begged leave from her service and asked to remain behind in Middle-earth to serve you and the Wood.”

“I am not yet so doddering that I do not recall that day, Rúmil,” the lord chided mildly.  “I was there at my Lady’s side and granted you permission, else you would not be here right now.  Now, for the love of Tulkas, will you get on with it?”

Rúmil’s face flushed a pale pink, but he chuckled genially.  “Of course, my lord.  I was but setting the stage, if you will… for dramatic effect.”

Celeborn’s lip curled into a smile.  Rúmil really was cheeky, and the rosy blush that suffused his face made him look much younger than his three-thousand-odd years.  One would have to be either blind or made of stone not to find the guardian charming.  Celeborn shook his head at such frivolous thoughts and again looked pointedly at the trio.  “I confess I still do not understand why you would go to such great lengths to lure me from the City.  You have yet to explain this ‘proposition’ you spoke of, and what does my wife have to do with any of this?  Surely there is more to this tale than meets the eye.”

Haldir stepped in, sensing that Celeborn was reaching the point where his patience could be challenged no more.  He crawled directly in front of his lord and plucked the wine glass from his hand.  His brothers joined him and he drew them close, his arms encircling their waists, and leaned over to kiss first Rúmil’s and then Orophin’s cheek.

“I will speak plainly, Celeborn, for there should be no misunderstanding between us, and if my words offend, then I humbly beg your apology.”  Haldir chose his words carefully; a few misspoken words and all their planning would be for naught.

“The Lady does not doubt the love that you bear for her, but she is not blind to your basest desires.  She knows that despite your love and commitment to her and your daughter, it has always been the strength and command of a male’s touch that you have craved.”

Celeborn looked up sharply and his face was stern.  “The proclivities of my bachelorhood are none of your concern, Captain.  Those urges were set aside when I wed, because it was her and not another I wanted to spend my life with.  You make a mockery of our marriage by implying that I somehow ‘settled’ for her, when my heart and desires led me elsewhere.  I assure you, nothing could be further from the truth.  I loved her, Haldir, and would not have taken her to wife otherwise.”

“Nay, I know that, my friend,” Haldir said quickly, laying a conciliatory hand on Celeborn’s arm, “and I do not mean to imply that what you shared with her was somehow secondhand.  We have served you for years and know that you loved her deeply and wholly.  Please, will you hear us out?”

“If I may inquire,” Orophin interrupted, shooting his brother a sideways glance.  “Are you aware that the relationship among the three of us is, ah, - closer - than usual among blood kin?”

“I have long suspected that the bond that you share is more than fraternal, yes,” Celeborn concurred, his brow knit in bewilderment at this apparently random shift in the debate.  In fact, he and Galadriel had discussed their suspicions about the trio a number of times over the years, when none of the brothers showed interest in seeking lovers and mates as their contemporaries did, and had reached the same conclusion.

“And does this bother you?” the younger Elf inquired seriously, meeting his lord’s quizzical gaze without flinching.  “Do you find the thought of siblings – who do not share a union of twinship, as your grandsons do – sharing their bodies, their hearts, with one other repugnant?”

“Nay, I do not,” Celeborn replied with a slow shake of his head.  “Love should not be questioned, regardless of its source.  You are blessed to have found it… and kept it.”  His voice trailed off.

Orophin again glanced briefly at his brothers, and Haldir returned his querying look with a small nod of encouragement.

“And now we come to the heart of the matter,” the young Guardian said softly, settling on his knees before the Lord of the Wood.  “Lady Galadriel came to our talan once more a few days before her departure, but this time at our invitation.  We arranged for her to visit on a day when you were occupied and would not note her absence.  What we proposed to her was unusual, but once convinced of our sincerity, she agreed and even came up with the means to put our plan into motion.”

“And that proposal would be…” Celeborn prompted, the tone of his voice clearly conveying the fact that he was at the end of his tether.

“To share our love with you, to offer you comfort and companionship, until we fade from the eyes and the memory of Men,” Orophin finished.  He sat back on his heels and waited, his brothers’ arms twined comfortably about his waist.

Celeborn opened his mouth to speak, but no words would come, so he closed his mouth again and simply stared at the trio.  Surely, they could not mean what he thought they meant.

“Aye, that is exactly what my brother means,” Haldir replied to the unasked question, as Celeborn continued to gape at the three of them.  “The look on your face tells me you understood him perfectly well.”

Somewhere high in the trees above the bower, a bird twittered.  At last, Celeborn found his voice.  “I cannot allow you to do this.  Your parents – the Undying Lands – nay, you cannot.”

’Tis no point in trying to change our minds about our decision, Celeborn; you will find it an exercise in futility.  Your lady wife knew of our choice, and if her tears and pleading would not sway us then, neither will anything you can say now.  We will remain here until the end, will you or no.  The only question left is whether you will accept our offer.”

“But… why?”

“Why you, or why we choose to remain?  Our reasoning for the latter question is much the same as yours,” Haldir said thoughtfully.  “We were born here, as you were, and the Wood is who we are, what we have defended our entire lives.  As the world of the Edhil fades, so shall we, ever bound by our love for her, and we shall care for her from beyond the netherworld, if that be our fates, much as we have our entire lives.  The answer to your first question is far simpler.  Because we love you, and because we want to share our love with you… until the end.”

A prickle of tears stung Celeborn’s eyes.  He had long made peace with his decision to forsake his immortal life, and Galadriel had finally come to accept their parting as well – not like it, but accept it.  He had made the choice to stay and fade, despite his certainty that at the end he would wither away, become a wisp of memory, alone.  But now, at the end, to know these three would give their lives for him… the very thought was awe-inspiring.

Haldir leaned forward to gently tuck a stray wisp of hair behind the lord’s ear, pausing to stroke the calloused pad of his thumb over Celeborn’s face, following the high arch of a cheekbone and down to stroke along the bow of his upper lip.  “That is why we resorted to such behavior and brought you so far from the city, Celeborn.  We have spoken of this to none save you and your lady wife, and what we speak of here is for no one’s witness but ours, unless you wish it.  If you decline, we will leave here and return to Caras Galadhon, and will never speak of it again.”

“But if you do – “ Orophin leaned in, his breath a gentle caress, flavored with sweet wine.  “If you do accept, we would seal our union this very day, in this very spot.  Do you understand what that means, Celeborn?”

Celeborn gulped.  Every rational thought in his mind screamed at him to decline, to force them to take ship and embrace Eru’s gift, to run from the offer so selflessly presented to him.  But he knew that even should he flee, it would change little.  Their minds were made up – they would remain, and fade.  Except that they would have each other… and he would be alone.

The inarguable truth was, as the Silver Lord looked from one brother to another, so very beautiful, so vibrant, so alive - was that he wanted this – wanted to feel be taken and possessed, wanted to fade away knowing he was loved unconditionally and wholly, and to love freely in return, until the very end.

He nodded.

*~*~* to be continued *~*~*