Haldir of Lorien had overslept for the first time in all of his life. When he finally awakened, quite well-rested at last, he cursed himself as he realized that it was the middle of the night, and that he was supposed to be at Elrond's banquet. Not to mention, Isilwen was angry at him and still probably thought he was sleeping with Legolas.

Haldir had wanted so badly to go after her last night, for Legolas had left only a few minutes after Isilwen ran out, but he had been frankly exhausted since every time he had tried to rest since the battle someone had woken him up by entering his room. He closed his eyes, meaning just to gather his strength, and then he was gone.

Once he realized he was already unconscionably late to the banquet, he had not hurried to get there any sooner. He had taken the time to make sure his clothing was presentable, changing into a more ornate robe that befit his station of Marchwarden of Lothlorien. He brushed and plaited his hair. Maybe, he thought as he walked at last down the corridor to the banquet hall, everyone would be so drunk when he arrived that they would not notice how late he was.

Elrond was drunk all right, but he had also noticed Haldir's tardiness. Immediately he jumped to his feet and proposed a toast to the 'great hero.' Haldir would have laughed if it had not been unforgivably rude. Instead he merely inclined his head and accepted the accolades, his eyes searching the room for the one he cared for most of all.

And then there she was, hurrying towards him, her expression urgent. Haldir's heart drummed in his chest. Isilwen stopped before him, looking up at him as if she were searching his soul for some important answer. Haldir took her hands in his.

"I wish to explain about last night," he began, but she shook her head.

"It matters not."

He raised an eyebrow. "But Legolas--"

"Your love for Legolas is your own. Truly, Haldir. I was wrong to leave you last night and to be so upset. It is I who should apologize to you."

"Well, maybe," he said, but he was teasing.

"Let me make up for it now."

There was heat and promise in her voice. He raised his eyebrow even higher. "And how do you intend to do that?"

"Take me back to your chamber, right now!"

Again he nearly laughed, but he did not want her to think he was making fun, especially when her eagerness pleased him deeply. "I have only just arrived," he said. "I have not even had my dinner yet."

"You missed dinner. Too bad, as it was particularly delicious and I am sure you would have enjoyed it. Then you would have consumed a great quantity of wine, made small talk with Lord Elrond, insulted my brother, danced with me, and finally invited me back to your chamber. Am I wrong?"

"No, that sounds like an accurate description of what might have been, had I been more punctual this evening," he said, amused.

"So let us cut to the finish and go back to your chamber."

"I am quite flattered by your eagerness, but it might be rude if I do not speak with Elrond first."

Isilwen grabbed the shoulders of his robe and pressed her body against his. Haldir began to ache at once, more acutely than ever. He wanted to moan, wanted to ravish her mouth, wanted to throw her down and take her on the nearest table. "Tell me you are not equally eager to have me."

"And they say that I am wicked."

"They are probably right, but I will judge that for myself. Let us depart."

Haldir looked across the room at Lord Elrond, who was no longer paying him any attention. Elrond was speaking to Legolas, who seemed to be looking around for some means of escape. Haldir considered helping him out, as he truly did wish a few words with Elrond and tomorrow would be too late.

"Has Elrond given you permission--" he began but Isilwen held her finger up to Haldir's lips.

"Do not speak. I have other uses for your lips."

Haldir smiled. "How can I argue with that?" he said.

He took Isilwen's hand and led her out of the banquet hall. They did not speak as they hurried back to his chamber. He wished vaguely that he had made the bed, but she did not seem to notice as he closed the door behind them. She stood before him, looking a little bit unnerved, as if she had lost her momentary bravado.

Haldir took her face in his hands and reverently placed his lips on the scar that sliced over one cheek. She blushed, her eyes cast downwards.

"I know that I am not beautiful," she whispered, a hitch in her voice.

"Nay," said Haldir, "You are more beautiful than any."

"My face… the scar."

"The scar is nothing. Think you I bear no scars?"

Haldir took off his robe and pushed the leggings he wore beneath low on his hips, revealing the mark he bore still from Helm's Deep. His midsection had been gouged deeply and it was this wound which had nearly killed him more than the blow to his head. The skin above the healed wound was thickly ridged. Isilwen reached out tentatively and touched it. Haldir drew in his breath, as if he expected pain, but none came.

Her hand caressed the scar, then his hip, then slid up over his ribcage to his chest with an exploration that grew bolder as it progressed. Her thumb trailed over his nipple, then pricked it with her fingernail and a low rumble escaped his throat.

"You are beautiful," she said, looking at last into his eyes, her hand falling away.

"That is true enough," he said, and then he took her mouth, gathering her into his arms as he did so.

She was melting sweet beneath him. How long had it been since he had such a willing, eager lover? His tongue swept over her lips and was granted entrance to wind and love with hers. He kissed her for a long, long time, savoring every breath that passed between them, until his lips were raw and hers tasted tender.

"I love you, Isilwen of Rivendell," he said. How easily it came to him to say the words, words he had never uttered to a lover before. She sighed and put her arms around him, resting her head upon his shoulder, her soft hair like silk against his skin. He stroked it.

"Will you… will you not come into the west with me?" she whispered. "We can sail with Elrond and our brothers to a new land, a new life."

"My brothers would not go, and I would not leave them. We will leave Middle-earth when the time is right, but when I cannot say. It may not be in the time while Elessar is King of Men," Haldir said gently.

"Would they not go if you asked them?"

"They might, but I do not wish to take their time here away from them. They are young yet, as you are. Stay in Middle-earth with me. We will ride out at dawn with Legolas and Ciendriel, and Rúmil and Orophin."

Isilwen did not reply. She lifted her head in a moment and as she pulled his mouth down to hers, Haldir saw tears in her eyes. She said no more, nor would allow him to. Eagerly she put his hands to the fastenings of her gown and helped him remove it. When she stood clothed in only her hair, his leggings could not conceal his desire.

They fell onto the bed together. She lay beneath him and he worshipped her body with lips and hands. He did not rush, for he was not (except upon the rare occasion) a selfish lover. Haldir was a giver of pleasure and none had ever left his bed lacking for it. Isilwen writhed beneath him, pressing her skin up to meet his touch. She whispered his name, over and over.

He eased himself out of his leggings and slid between her legs. His mouth met hers again, and he looked deeply into her eyes, willing her to speak words of love to him. How desperately he needed to hear them, but he would not encourage them, would not ask for them.

She said nothing, and so he kissed her again as he eased himself into the portal of her desire. She bit at his lower lip, betraying the quick pain of her first coupling, but a moment later she sighed and wrapped her legs around his to allow him deeper. Haldir moved gently inside her at first, but quickly the rhythm grew more frenzied. She scraped her fingernails down his back and he hissed with the sting of it. He heard her cry out, felt the shuddering glory of her release. His own followed quickly.

Afterwards, in the quiet dark of the room, he held her close against him. He kissed her ears, her cheeks, and she lay contented and still in his arms, saying nothing for a long, long while. Dawn was approaching too quickly, he thought, and she had told him not if she would go with Elrond and Erestor or stay with him. He wanted to ask her, but he feared the answer.

He slept not, but soon he knew that she did, and she slept still when the rap came on his door. Carefully he slipped from the bed as not to wake her, covering her gently with his blanket. He opened the door to his room but a crack to find the Prince of Mirkwood standing there.

"We leave within the hour," Legolas said in a low voice, but Haldir motioned him to quiet anyway.

"Very well. I am ready."

"You are naked."

"That aside. I can be dressed very quickly. You know that, Legolas."

Legolas grinned. "Indeed. Does Isilwen ride with us?"

"I know not yet, but she is here."

"I am glad for you, old friend. I will await you in the courtyard above, but no more than one hours. Your brothers are there already."

"Thank you," said Haldir.

He closed the door in Legolas' face and turned back to the bed. Isilwen had awakened and was sitting up. She smiled at him and held out her arms. Haldir went into them and gathered her close, kissing her softly.

"Do not wake me," she whispered into his ear, the vibration of her breath against his flesh heating him. "This dream is too beautiful to fade."

"It is morning, Isilwen," Haldir said somberly. "The time for dreaming is over. Now comes the time to decide. Will you come with me or no?"

"Will you sail with me or no?" she challenged him.

Haldir shook his head gently. "I cannot."

He turned away from her and dressed quickly, then stuffed the remainder of his possessions into his pack, which he lifted onto his shoulder.

"Haldir--"

"If you choose not to come, there is no more to say, Isilwen," he said heavily, feeling his old stubbornness creeping into his veins.

"I love you. I could not let you go without your knowing this."

He paused, his heart thundering as she said words he had never again in his life expected to hear from a lover. He dropped his pack to the floor and pulled her up from the bed, his mouth slamming down upon hers with ardor.

"Then do not abandon me," he said at last. "Do not sail."

She clung to him tightly, as if she meant never to let go.

***

Elrond of Rivendell stood on the deck of the ship as it pulled up its anchor and took the tide out of Middle-earth towards the Undying lands. It was a fair and beautiful day, and though most of the Elves on board were merry, his heart still weighed heavily in his chest. Frodo and Bilbo stood together, laughing into the wind. Gandalf stood beside Elrond, and the old wizard laid a kindly hand on his shoulder.

"Do not worry so, Master Elrond. This is a happy day."

"For most it is," Elrond said, "But there are some of us who leave loved ones behind."

"Arwen."

"Yes. She will not come."

"There are others you think of, perhaps, as well."

"Yes."

"They will not be far behind. You know that. Even Legolas, whose destiny in Middle-earth lies long past all others, will sail one day."

"And still the day is far off."

"What is time to an immortal Elf?"

"It is not without meaning, Gandalf, to those who are wise."

"Perhaps not. And I am fortunate enough to count myself among the wise."

"Of course. I did not mean to imply--"

"It is all right." Gandalf nodded. "I simply wish for you to let go of your grief."

Elrond did not reply. Arwen would not sail, ever, despite Gandalf's reassuring words, Elrond knew that. He stared off into the distance, watching the land where his daughter was queen recede. He would not turn away until it was gone from his keen Elven eyes completely, forever.

On the dock, Elrond made out a lone figure. He raised an eyebrow as he identified Haldir standing on the dock, watching the ship depart. The Marchwarden's face was completely without expression. Haldir always was one for masking his feelings, Elrond thought. He lifted his hand in salute to Haldir, and Haldir returned the gesture.

Elrond hoped that Haldir had chosen wisely in his desire to stay behind, and that happiness would be his at last. Someday they would meet again, this Elrond knew, and the knowledge heartened him for the long voyage ahead.