The Last Homely House
Chapter Two

Rating: PG
Category: Humour, Drama, AU
Pairing(s): Erestor/Glorfindel, Haldir/Rabbit, Legolas/Gimli
Warnings: Slash (means: two male Elves in some kind of love) Mpreg
Summary: Erestor learns to hunt, Gimli becomes asigned Elfsitter, and Rumil's fear leads to much heartake for Haldir
Notes: The timeline for this story takes place roughly three months after ‘Good Morning Imladris,’ and two months after ‘Fair Days and Nonsense at the Sign of the Sleeping Marmot.’

Glorfindel lay beside Erestor, curled around him protectively, holding him as he slept. He was truly asleep, deep in the quiet nothingness of his own dreams. Glorfindel envied him. He could not seem to even close his eyes, so distressed was he by what Erestor had said.

They were bound now, having gone through the quiet and intensely personal ritual that would link them forever. Glorfindel had not thought it necessary, as he certainly had no intention of ever being without Erestor. However, if it was important to his lover, then he was more than glad to do it. Considering what Erestor had told him this evening, he could see why he would want to be bound.

Erestor shifted in his sleep, rolling into Glorfindel’s arms, as though sensing his lover was thinking of him. Glorfindel cradled him gently as Erestor buried his face against his throat. He smiled, stroking the long black hair that seemed more like straw than silk these days. He had never thought of Erestor as fragile, but these days he seemed to need protecting, in so many ways. Even, it seemed, from some of their own kind.

Rúmil had said nothing more after his dressing down from Lord Elrond, proving he had some sense at least. Haldir had admitted that Rúmil was the sort to speak his piece and then let a matter lie. He had made his feelings known. Apart from that, Erestor and Rabbit were not his concern, unless they performed some foul act. What worried Glorfindel was wondering what Rúmil may consider a ‘foul act’.

However Rúmil was not the worst. Erestor had admitted that at least one Elf who had long been a friend had threatened him. That Erestor had returned to Middle Earth not simply to be with his lover, but to save his own life was an idea that so shocked and disturbed Glorfindel he simply could not think what to do. Not even Mauburz had been treated so harshly. But then, Glorfindel thought darkly, none had ever been forced to question whether Mauburz was anything other than an Orc, despite her complete disinterest in behaving like one.

Erestor slept peacefully against his lover, oblivious to the thoughts that plagued him. Finally, Glorfindel decided to follow his example. He cleared his mind of darkness and at last slipped into sleep.

***---***

Rabbit came to keep Erestor company, while Haldir took Glorfindel out hunting. There were just the two of them, and despite having brought their bows and knives, they never seemed to actually getting around to stalking anything. The deer even seemed to know the Elves were not serious in their quest. A large stag grazed unconcernedly between the two as they lay on their backs, watching the clouds drift by.

“A bunny-rabbit,” said Glorfindel.

“It is not a bunny-rabbit.”

“Of course it is, see the ears?”

Haldir gazed at the cloud Glorfindel pointed towards. “It is not a bunny-rabbit. It is quite clearly a kitty-cat.”

“I believe you are looking at the wrong cloud. That over there is a kitty. This is a bunny.”

“They are both kitties.”

“You are not only fat, you are blind.”

“I was warned about your pleasant disposition, but chose not to believe it.”

“So you are silly on top of all.” Glorfindel sighed. “Ah Haldir, what am I to do? To think my love has been rejected by some of his own people…”

“There is still fear in the hearts of some,” said Haldir. “Give them time. Lord Elrond and Prince Legolas see no evil here, their example counts for much.”

“Rúmil is not without influence as well.”

“Rúmil was almost the evening feast for some Orcs when he was a child, his fear of them oft gets the better of his common sense.”

Glorfindel looked towards Haldir. “Really? How did he escape?”

“A violent fight broke out among the Orcs as to who had the right to take the first bite. They killed each other.”

“Then he has my sympathy. That must have been truly terrifying for an Elfling. But whatever his feelings, I will see he keeps them to himself. Has he said anything to you regarding Rabbit?”

Haldir smiled broadly. “Not after Mauburz and I tore the floor out of one of the old out door toilets, and hung him by his boots over the hole.”

Glorfindel roared with laughter. “Now that is a threat that would even have me quaking! You are a most effective diplomat. Now if we can just do something about your waistline…”

Haldir stood up. “There is a pond just here, perhaps since we can find no deer, let us go swimming.” He removed his light cloak and hung it upon one of the stag’s antlers. Next he removed his tunic, and walked, half-dressed towards the pond. Glorfindel’s jaw dropped at the sight of the well-defined muscle on the broad back. Giving his head a shake, he stood up to hang his own cloak on the increasingly irate deer.

“As I was saying, Haldir, we really do have to do something about getting you a new tailor.”

***---***

Erestor stared at the crayfish, holding the small angry crustacean distastefully by its back.

“And what, pray tell, am I to do with this?”

Rabbit cleaned his own crayfish, then ate it. Erestor felt woozy just watching. “Oh that was truly disgusting.”

“They are delicious.”

“It is a large aquatic bug. I do not eat bugs.”

“But aged amphibian toes in brine are acceptable?”

“Well what did you want when you were pregnant?”

“Raw goose liver.”

Erestor was very glad he was already seated. He waited for his nausea to subside while Rabbit kept a close eye on his child.

“So did all of your kind eat crayfish?”

“Crayfish are seekers, they dwell in deep places, looking into the darkness. To eat them is to gain their wisdom.”

“And the goose liver?”

Rabbit shrugged. “I just really wanted it.” He looked towards Erestor with luminous eyes. “Perhaps you would be more willing to try the crayfish if I cleaned it for you?”

Erestor passed him the creature, watching as Rabbit skillfully killed and cleaned it. He took the offered bits, and stared at them. Closing his eyes, he put it in his mouth and chewed. It was delicious. Not only that, it almost seemed to speak to some inner part of him, awakening a feeling that was instinctual in nature. It had been missing from him for too long, and would not go quietly back to sleep.

“That was marvelous! How did you clean it?”

Beside the wide shallow stream where Frodo Baggins had once watched the Nazgûl be swept away, Rabbit taught Erestor to hunt.

***---***

They remained there much of the day, talking and eating. Erestor was reluctant to enter the river, but Rabbit was more than happy to prowl through its depths seeking things for him. By the end of the day Erestor had eaten more bizarre things than he ever had in his lifetime.

He stood, rising off his blue cape. Rabbit picked it up for him, and the three set off for home. As they carefully crossed the rocky bank towards the road, Erestor reached out to take a handful of Rabbit’s perpetually snarled hair. “Ever thought of combing that?”

“No.”

“Ever thought of wearing anything besides those horrid old breeches?”

“No. Ever thought of getting a name?”

Erestor stopped, Rabbit pausing to look at him. The advisor was smiling broadly.

“Rabbit my friend, you and I are going to be a very bad influence on each other.”

***---***

Erestor lounged on the bed, daintily picking up the tiny pickled frog’s feet with his fingers and eating them. He pretended not to notice when Glorfindel entered the room.

“Terribly sorry about not being home earlier, darling, a deer ran off with most of my clothes and… “ He stopped short as he saw his lover.

Erestor was wearing only a pair of black breeches, torn off at the knee. His hair, usually so carefully combed, hung wild past his shoulders, almost obscuring the small crayfish illumination upon his breast bone. He looked at Glorfindel with an innocent expression as he put one of the tiny delicacies into his mouth, then suggestively drew his finger between his lips.

“How was hunting?” he asked.

***---***

Glorfindel lay in bed on his back, panting as Erestor bent to softly kiss him. He slowly moved off of his strong body and lay down beside him. He ran his fingers over Glorfindel’s long hair and kissed him again.

“We are not supposed to be acting like this with you nearly six months pregnant.”

Erestor lay his head upon his shoulder. “Elrond assured me there would be no harm.”

“Oh I see, this was a carefully planned plot to reduce me to nothing more than a dead squid.”

“Very carefully planned.”

Glorfindel drew a deep breath, trying to regain control of his breathing. “Erestor you look wonderful. I did not want to say anything, but…”

“Yes, I know. I was not looking well. I was not feeling well either. Rabbit had me down by the river and was feeding me all sort of reprehensible little beasties. I was reluctant at first, but it seems to have done me some good.”

“I am glad. I have been going mad with worry, you were beginning to look so fragile…”

“And you said nothing?”

“Well you were already upset and depressed, I did not want to further burden you. I did not know what to do.” Glorfindel pulled him close with an intensity that was not usual to his nature. “Erestor if anything ever happened to you I would go out of my mind.”

Erestor returned the embrace, then kissing him. “Nothing is going to happen to me. Not with you here.”

***---***

Life in Imladris returned to some semblance of normal. Erestor was soon back at his duties, and Glorfindel likewise returned to patrolling the borders of their tiny realm, accompanied by Haldir. Legolas took it upon himself to begin repairing some of the ties between Imladris and Mirkwood, and Gimli as well found a position within the Last Homely House.

His job was to keep an eye on Erestor; a task both of them objected to.

“A Dwarf has no business acting as nurse-maid to an Elf!” he stated firmly, beard bristling with indignity at the suggestion.

“I heartily agree,” said Erestor.

Legolas had long given up attempting to take the situation seriously and was laughing uproariously. Elrond was having difficulty maintaining a straight face as well, but managed somehow.

“Gimli, if you are going to dwell among us, which you are certainly welcome to do, you must learn some of our ways. Erestor, whether you like it or not, you have but three months before you are a… parent, and I would feel a great deal of relief if I knew you were not unattended.”

Erestor fixed Elrond with a stare that would have had a Nazgûl crawling. “Is that an order, my Lord?”

“I can certainly make it one.”

“Fine.” Erestor looked at Gimli. “I can only hope you can keep up.”

“Keep up?! With an Elven advisor?! I could keep up with five of you.”

Erestor suddenly found himself liking this idea. For the next four weeks he had Gimli carrying his tomes, organizing his scrolls, and sent him to the pantry daily for pickled frogs’ feet.

“Should have got pregnant years ago,” he remarked to himself as the grumbling Dwarf dragged over an enormous tome to lay on his desk. He rose to his feet, and immediately felt a hand on his arm. Erestor was startled by the unexpected act of kindness. He looked down at Gimli with amusement in his soft grey eyes.

“Well you are quite the sweetheart. I believe I am beginning to understand what Prince Legolas sees in you.”

Gimli flushed red to the top of his head. “Kindness has nothing to do with it. You Elves don’t appear large enough to support your own weight, let alone yours and someone else’s.”

“And you wanted to make certain I did not collapse. So your heart is as big as your beard.”

Gimli turned even redder and muttered under his breath. Erestor decided it was much more fun to compliment the Dwarf than insult him.

“Well you need only walk with me to my chambers, then you are free to do as you wish. I am done for this day.”

“Good! This whole chamber smells like lavender. Reprehensible stuff, why do you Elves grow it?”

“Dwarf-repellent,” said Erestor, smiling as Gimli roared with laughter. He walked beside the tall Elf as they left his office and began making for his chambers.

“Well where I come from, it would certainly be effective!” said Gimli as they strolled along the hall. “There are never any good smells here, like beer, brimstone, and sweat. Everything smells like…. Erestor you look terrible.”

Erestor felt weak at just the thought of the odor of a Dwarven forge. “Gimli, do not say ‘beer’ while I am pregnant, and really do not say…”

Gimli watched Erestor lean, panting, against the railing. “Sweat?” he asked helpfully.

Erestor spun around and threw up. Gimli winced. “Sorry.”

Erestor leaned, eyes closed, waiting for the feeling of nausea to pass. The cool November breeze touched his skin, easing his sickness. “Thank you Gimli, yes, that was the word.”

“Oh.” He watched Erestor try to get his nausea under control, then said; “Never knew Elves puked.”

Erestor threw up again. He felt Gimli pat him gently on the back. “I’ll get Lord Elrond,” he said.

He listened to the sound of the Dwarf’s boots fade. He sniffed, then wiped at one eye. “I am really going to have to hurt him,” he muttered. He turned away from the railing, and was about to resume his way to his bed chamber, when an arrow sliced by his head, cutting into his cheek before striking the wall. Erestor turned and looked down into the valley, noticing something lurking in the woods.

Orcs, four of them, probably thinking the house was uninhabited save for himself. He was suddenly so outraged that an Orc would dare to attack him in Elrond’s house that he turned and stormed straight for the nearest room. He slammed open the door, picked up a bow and quiver, and marched back to the railing. Behind him he heard the sound of the owner of the bow following him.

Erestor went to the railing. The Orcs may have thought they were well-concealed, but to the Elf they may as well have been on an open ledge in daylight. He notched an arrow, took aim, and fired. One Orc fell dead.

“Erestor what are you doing!” He felt someone pull him back from the railing, and was surprised to see it was Rúmil.

“Orcs!” said Erestor with heated indignity. “In OUR realm!”

“Well then let me take care of them.”

“Absolutely not!”

Rúmil firmly shoved Erestor into the room he had just left, closing the door and blocking it with a chair. “Yes! If anything happens to you, I will get the blame!”

“Rúmil! Rúmil if you do not open this door right now I swear I will take your sword and hack my way out!”

The Lothlórien arched hopped lightly up onto the railing. Sighting the retreating Orcs, he fired at them, each in turn falling dead, his Elven eyes watching their bodies begin to cool as they fell. Behind him he could hear several Elves arrive, along with the unmistakable tread of Dwarfish boots. Rúmil stepped down from the railing, and, before anyone could ask what had occurred, there was the tremendous crash of a sword hitting wood.

Glorfindel looked from Rúmil to the door, then called; “Darling what has he done to you?”

The door split, and Erestor kicked the remains out of his way. Still armed, he stormed over to Rúmil and pointed the sword at him.

“So help me if you EVER lock me in your bedchamber so you can kill an Orc again I shall do you an injury!!!”

Rúmil took his sword away from Erestor. “Very well! Should it ever happen again, I will put you in the fruit cellar, where you may tell all the frogs down there what you’ve been doing to their relatives!”

“Upstart!”

“Paper-shuffler.”

“Brat.”

“Frog-eater.”

“Tree-hugger.”

Glorfindel stepped between the two, pulling Erestor gently against him. “Darling you are bleeding!” He looked towards Rúmil. “What is this about Orcs?”

“Four of them, just down below,” he said. “They shot at Erestor. He came to fetch my bow and return the favor.”

Glorfindel turned his eyes to Erestor. “You shot at an Orc?”

“Shot at it?” said Rúmil. “He skewered it. I have not seen a shot like that in all my days in Lothlórien. The other three I dispatched, but Master Erestor slew the first.”

Erestor glared at the younger Elf. “So now after calling me a freakish Orc and a Mordor-Spawn it’s ‘Master Erestor’ again.”

“And I hold to that opinion!”

“Twit.”

“Orc.”

“Enough!” said Elrond. “Glorfindel, kindly take Erestor to his chambers. I shall be there momentarily.”

Glorfindel nodded, then turned to lead Erestor away. “Come along darling, you can call Rúmil names tomorrow.”

They departed, then Elrond turned to look at Rúmil. “I must commend you on your actions. Though you openly fear and despise Erestor, you let no harm come to him, in fact faced danger to spare him.”

Rúmil sheathed his sword. “His fate is not mine to decide. I do not know what he is, nor what he carries, but until he does something to endanger those who live within this house, I will not see him harmed.”

Elrond smiled at him. “So you have some wisdom after all. Rúmil, I have not known you long, nor you me, but heed my words. Erestor is indeed an Elf. Not one such as we, but an Elf. And so is his child. So you need not fear.”

He nodded, then said softly; “Yes Lord Elrond.”

“Now rest. It seems tomorrow we must let it be known to the Orcs that Elves still dwell in this valley.”

Elrond, Gimli and Legolas watched Rúmil return to his room, stepping over the smashed remnants of his door.

“Would seem Glorfindel has been an influence on our dear Erestor,” said Legolas.

“No,” said Elrond, “that is simply Erestor’s heritage. The Elves of Gondolin do not take kindly to challenge and insult, less so than others. Whatever Rúmil may think, Erestor is more of that line than Rabbit’s.”

“And now we have a third on the way,” said Legolas. “We’d best pay better heed to our manners.”

Elrond left the two in the hall, heading for bed. Legolas and Gimli also retired, locking themselves into their chamber and undressing.

Gimli crawled into bed first, wearing a nightshirt. He would have been warm enough without it, but he found he was not quite comfortable sleeping unclad. Unlike the Elf he shared a room with, who was perfectly happy answering the door wearing only his skin. Gimli frequently thought he would die of embarrassment before he got the hang of living with Elves.

He felt Legolas slip into bed beside him, resting his head on his shoulder, draping an arm across his middle. Gimli put an arm around his shoulders, then chuckled quietly. He reached up his free hand to push the long fine hair out of Legolas’ face, then gently kissed him.

He was a little startled by the response he received. Legolas pressed closer, arching his body against Gimli’s and parting his lips. They held the kiss for a long moment, then Legolas asked softly; “Do you plan on leaving me untouched every night we are together?”

The Dwarf sighed, then said; “I confess I have not the slightest idea what to do with you. Indeed were you one of my kind, and we were at my realm under the Mountain, we would be taking our lives into our hands entertaining such thoughts.”

“But we are not. We are here, and there are none who will tell us what we do is evil.” He took Gimli’s large hand and placed it on his side. His eyes had that familiar glitter to them. “Shall I show you?”

Gimli looked into the bright mischievous eyes, and said: “I’d be a bloody fool to refuse that offer.”

***---***

Elrond had to admit, he had seen the Elves of Imladris better prepared for battle.

The group before him numbered twenty Elves, one Dwarf, an Orc, and Rabbit. The roster would have included one pregnant advisor as well, but Glorfindel refused to let him come. It was truly one of their more spectacular arguments. In the end, however, Erestor had sense enough to realize he was in no condition for Orc-hunting. He decided to remain home with the only other Elf not going on the hunt: a badly battered old warrior who had fought at Helm’s Deep with Haldir named Rhimlan.

Rhimlan plainly wanted to go, though he said nothing. In truth, he knew he would never fight again. He had only one eye, and was lame and stiff from a number of old injuries. Still, it was a hard blow for him to be left behind, however well and quietly he took it.

“We will bring you one back,” said Gimli.

“I would rather have you just bring yourself back,” he said. “Besides, we already have an Orc.”

“Yeah!” said Mauburz. “Not need another Orc.”

Elrond stepped in front of the group, wearing his armor. He surveyed the bunch of half-awake Elves.

“Say something inspiring,” said Glorfindel, as Elrohir yawned.

“I am saving my inspiration for the letter I am going to send to Estel, thanking him for clearing his lands so well the Orcs feel the need to bother us,” said Elrond. “In the meantime, let us remember that we know not how many Orcs are out there, and I will be more than satisfied to not have to spend this evening trying to put the lot of you back together.”

They set off for the ridge where they had seen the Orcs the previous evening. There they found three dead with Rumil’s arrows in their backs, and one nailed to a tree by the arrow in his skull. Mauburz yanked the arrow out and watched the body fall.

“Do you know him?” asked Gimli.

“Not know every stoopid Orc. This one from Isengard. Not as stoopid as Mordor Orcs.”

“Just as smelly though,” said Elladan.

Elrond looked towards Rabbit. He held his head high, tracking the wind. Breaking his usual silence, he said quietly; “They are camped in the north. They are burning meat and arguing.”

“Orcs arguing?” said Gimli. “Unheard of!”

“How many?” asked Elrond.

Rabbit listened, still and poised like a stag. Finally he spoke again. “I would say a dozen. The wind is blowing towards us, so they will not catch our scent.”

“Then let us get into position quickly, before they know we are here,” said Elrond. “Haldir, you and your archers take to the trees. Get behind them and drive them towards us, and we will finish the ones you do not kill.” Elrond looked at Rabbit.

“I will stay here,” Rabbit said, drawing his black knife.

Legolas went with Haldir, Elrohir and Elladan accompanying them, and the group of archers began quietly circling behind the Orcs. Gimli watched Legolas go, then pulled his axe. Beside him, he heard Mauburz draw her Orcish scimitar. Together, the group waited.

They heard the first sound of battle not long after the group departed. There were the screams of the Orcs, then the sound of footsteps running towards them. The first Orc out of the brush was beheaded by Elrond before it could shout a warning, and three others were hewn down by Glorfindel before the Orcs knew they were there. Gimli cut the legs out from beneath one, and he saw Rabbit, with deadly speed, slash the entrails out of another. Mauburz did not move as quickly as the Elves she fought beside, but she more than made up for it with brute strength. She spilt the skull of one in half clear down to his collarbone, then hacked off the arm of another. Soon all were dead.

She kicked at one dead body. “Teach you to come here!” she gloated, then glanced around. “We all here?”

“Seem to be,” said Glorfindel. “Wait, where is Elrond?”

“I am here,” he answered. He was leaning against a tree, an arrow driven deep into his hip. The golden shaft was that of an Elvish rather than Orcish arrow, and the Elven Lord was plainly irate. At his feet lay an Orc, a matching arrow sticking up from its back. “Who is the fool who fired this?”

Elrohir stepped forward. “Sorry Ada.”

Elrond glared at his son. “At what point did shooting your father seem a good idea?”

Elrohir blinked large wet eyes at him, lower lip trembling. Elrond’s anger dissolved.

“Oh come here. No harm done child, you got the Orc and I still live.” He put an arm around the young Elf. “Are we all accounted for?”

“All here,” said Haldir. Rabbit came to stand beside him, putting an arm around him. “And the Orcs are destroyed. All that needs to be done is to get you home and patched up.”

“At least you won’t have to spend the evening putting us back together!” said Gimli.

Elrond glared at the Dwarf. “Well let us be thankful for that.”

Elladan came to his father, putting one arm about his shoulder. “I shall tend to it, Ada. Would you like the green thread or the pink?”

***---***

It had been many years since Elrond last had one of his sons creep into his bedchamber, and he was amazed he could still identify them just by the way they crossed the floor. He felt Elladan sit down on the edge of his bed. “Ada?”

Elrond was comfortably face down in bed, buried under the covers. His response was only moderately articulate. “Mmph?”

“You awake?”

“What would you do if I said no?”

“Ada there’s a dragon in the fish pond.”

Elrond thought about that. He rolled over and looked at his son. “I beg your pardon?”

Elladan looked back at him with serene blue eyes, which were just a little too much like his mother’s for comfort. “There’s a dragon in the fish pond.”

“A dragon.”

“Yes.”

“What kind of a dragon?”

“A green one.”

Elrond sighed heavily. “All right, I shall be there soon.”

***---***

It was indeed a green dragon.

It was an immense beast, well over a hundred feet long, including the tail, and with golden curving horns rising from the back of its head. It was chest deep in the pond where the fish were stocked, lowering its head to snap at the swift silvery bodies. At one point it rose onto its hind feet, stretching and beating its enormous wings, showering the area with water. Then it continued trying to catch the fish.

Unlike the fierce red dragons, green dragons were no real danger, at least not to anything that did not try to hurt them first. If angered, they were fully capable of torching an entire village. However, this one clearly had only come for fish. Elrond did not want to harm a beast that meant no evil. However he did not want the thing in his pond, either.

He stood at the edge of the pond, along with most of the household. The dragon paid very little heed to the Elves, Dwarf and Orc.

“Perhaps a loud noise would frighten it,” said Gimli.

“Fabulous idea,” said Glorfindel. “So you mean to belch at it.”

Gimli turned to the tall Elven warrior. “Is it true you were not actually permitted to return from Mandos, but rather you were thrown out?”

Legolas actually had to sit down he was laughing so hard. Glorfindel smiled at Gimli.

“My dear Dwarf, how would you like to awaken with half of your face shaved?”

“Enough,” said Elrond. “What shall we do about this beast?”

The dragon extended its long neck to sniff quizzically at the Elves, golden reptilian eyes bright with curiosity. Suddenly the great forked tongue poked out, splatting several of those gathered with its slimy wetness. Then the dragon made for the deeper part of the pond.

Elrond wiped dragon saliva from his face, cursing quietly. “We may as well just leave it, the thing means no harm. Besides, the Orcs will not dare to enter our valley now.”

“So much for the stew pond,” said Elrohir, as the mighty beast stepped on the light wooden grate meant to keep the fish in.

“Yes, well, it is a small enough price to pay for the protection,” said Elrond. “Green dragons do not foul where they live, and are not tolerant of creatures who do. The Orcs will have no choice but to avoid this area now.”

Haldir wiped at his clothes with disgust. “Does copious amounts of drool count as ‘fouling’?”

“No, unfortunately. But we are in no danger of this beast turning our valley into a slag heap.”

The dragon hoisted a back leg and scratched vigorously, face screwed into a silly grin of pleasure, whipping the water into a froth and soaking the gathered crowd with icy spray. The water-logged and bedraggled group just stared at the creature.

“Well, now that we’ve had a shower,” said Gimli, “let us go have breakfast.”

***---***

Erestor sat at the large table in the Morning Room, picking listlessly at the breakfast before him. He had but six weeks before he delivered, and he seemed dispirited and ill. Glorfindel gently pressed him to eat something, but Erestor simply had no appetite. He was pallid again, and his eyes, like his hair, were dull.

“Darling you have to eat something.”

Erestor looked at Glorfindel, then shook his head. “Later. I am not hungry.”

Glorfindel looked towards Elrond for help. The Elven Lord asked; “Have you been going to the river with Rabbit?”

He shook his head. “Too cold.”

There was no denying that. It was early December, and though the weather had been somewhat fair earlier when they went to see the dragon, now the sky was black and angry. The rain drove down like frozen spears, and the wind tore at the house.

“What if Rabbit brought you some fish?”

Erestor thought. “Perhaps I might be able to eat.”

Elrond looked towards Haldir, who nodded. “I shall ask him, I do not think he will object.”

Erestor may have shunned the cold weather, but Rabbit absolutely gloried in it. He would stand in the worst of storms, soaked with rain, the wind blowing his wild hair. Summer, a season beloved by many Elves, was to him but a span of time to be endured. Winter was to be worshipped. They could see him now out on one of the landings, wearing next to nothing and drenched.

“At what point are you planning to attempt domesticating him?” asked Orophin.

Haldir smiled fondly at the distant wild figure. “I fear he is as tame as he is going to be.”

“At least he is visible at the moment,” said Rhimlan. “Truth be told, for a long time I feared he lived only in your mind.”

Rúmil watched the dark Elf howl into the winter wind, his eyes narrowed. Haldir watched his small daughter trot after Elrohir, following him to the apothecary. When she had departed, he spoke to his brother.

“You seem troubled.”

Rúmil lowered his gaze to his plate. “I was merely lost in thought.”

Glorfindel gave Rúmil a look that suggested he doubted this was the truth, but said nothing. Instead he gently helped Erestor to his feet, and they returned to their chambers. Haldir ate his breakfast in silence, not wishing to bring dispute to Elrond’s table. Finishing, he rose and made his way to the open ledge where Rabbit was being drenched.

“Excuse me, your Wildness.”

Rabbit tossed his hair, mouth open to catch the rain. Hearing Haldir’s voice, he looked over his shoulder at him.

“Yes, my love?”

“Would you consider catching some breakfast for Erestor?”

“Of course!” He hopped off the railing and pressed close to Haldir, eyes bright and alive. “Come with me.”

“In this mess?”

“Have you never made love in the rain?”

“In the rain yes, but this…”

Rabbit kissed him, pressing his lean, hard, wet body full against Haldir’s. “It is best in a storm.”

Haldir had a mental image of himself found frozen to death in a most undignified pose. But then he doubted very much Rabbit would let him freeze.

“All right, I shall come with you.”

Rabbit kissed him again, then took him by the hand, and they began walking towards the Bruinen. Once out of sight of the house, Rabbit leapt on Haldir.

He fell back into the soft but very wet black forest earth, hearing as well as feeling Rabbit rip his breeches off with his teeth. Haldir once more had that mental image of himself frozen in the dirt, but then a large lean body covered his, and he knew he was not going to be given the chance.

Rabbit chewed off Haldir’s jacket. He lay in the mud, watching Rabbit spit out the remains of his favorite article of clothing. “Winter is mating season for you, is it not?”

Rabbit actually barked at him, then made a dive, jaws first, for Haldir’s cotton shirt. Haldir made a vain attempt to save it, but alas, it too fell victim. Then Rabbit lay against him, growling quietly as he kissed him. Suddenly he screamed, then he was gone, tearing off into the woods like the wild creature he was. Haldir sat up and looked in horror at the droplets of blood upon himself that were now washing away in the rain. A moment later Rúmil ran up. He grabbed Haldir by the arm and pulled him to his feet.

“Come! We must flee before he returns!”

Haldir pulled his cloak about himself, trying to understand what had just happened. He saw the bow his brother held. “You shot him!”

“He was trying to kill you!”

Haldir felt an incredible rage build up inside, held in check only by the look of genuine fear in Rúmil’s eyes.

“He was not hurting me!” He squeezed his eyes shut, fighting the urge to grab his brother by the throat and choke the life out of him. When he finally found his voice again it sounded strangled and crazed. “You bloody great fool! Who told you to follow us?”

The look in Rúmil’s eyes changed from one of fear to horror. “No one! I came to speak with you! He… was not…?”

Haldir did not trust himself to explain the situation. “Go back to the house! Tell Elrond to expect wounded. You damn fool, Rúmil!”

“Haldir I am sorry, I feared….”

“Yes that is the whole problem, your fear!”

“I will help you look for him.”

“No! Go back to the house and wait for me. We will discuss this Rúmil, mark my words.”

Rúmil gazed back at him, the expression in his eyes unreadable. Then he turned and ran towards the house. Haldir did up his torn breeches as well as he was able, then went after Rabbit, following the blood trail before it washed away.

***---***

Rabbit had not made it far. Haldir found him but a few yards away, an arrow deep in his flesh. He was still and white, and for a long cold moment, Haldir feared he was dead. Then he saw his sides heave, and heard the soft moan of his agony. Haldir went to him, crouching beside him and gently pulling his wet hair back from his face. The yellow-green eyes were glazed with pain.

“I will get you home. It is not far.” He moved to pick him up.

Rabbit bit him, deeply, viciously, the reflex of a creature in agony. Haldir ground his teeth, waiting for the jaws to relax. The flesh was torn badly, but it was nothing that could not be mended with a wrapping. He knew Rabbit’s injuries were far more severe. Carefully he tried once more to pick him up. Rabbit snapped at him again, but seemed to be fading. As Haldir turned back to the house, Rabbit went limp in his arms.

***---***

Elrond and his sons met them before they reached the door. Haldir did not want to release his lover, but knew he could only be a hindrance. He watched them carry him to the Healing Rooms, feeling sick to his stomach. Orophin ran out in the rain towards him, putting an arm around him and taking him into the house. As he entered, Erestor met him with salve and bandages, and Glorfindel began wrapping his arm.

“Where is Rúmil?” Haldir asked.

“In his chambers,” said Orophin softly. He paused for a moment, then asked; “What will you do?”

Haldir shook his head. “I do not know. I must ask another to decide that, my mind is clouded. He shot Rabbit, yes. But he did so believing my life was in danger. Thinking how roughly we were playing, I can see how one not familiar with Rabbit would deem he meant me harm.”

“So you do not believe he acted out of malice?” asked Glorfindel.

“No,” said Haldir. “No, I saw the look in his eyes after he realized what he had done. He did not act out of cruelty.”

“Then that at least is something,” said Erestor. He looked towards the door where Elrond and his two sons worked on Rabbit. “He will survive, Haldir, he is strong.”

Elladan suddenly came out of the room, swearing and clutching his hand. Haldir marked the familiar tear pattern of the injury. He smiled slightly. “Yes, he will survive.”

Orophin finished tying up Haldir’s wound, while Glorfindel went after Elladan. The door through which Haldir had entered stood open, and out of the rain quietly stepped a strange Elf, clad in the garb of the Mirkwood realm. He watched the chaos happening in the hall, then said; “I hope I have not come at a bad time.”

Erestor stood up and walked towards him, the Elf gaping in surprise at him. Erestor pretended not to notice. “Welcome to Imladris. Of what service may we be to our Mirkwood kin?”

The Elf eyed Haldir, who was being bandaged, then looked towards the young Elf clutching his hand, cursing and being chased by an older Elf with a bandage. Then he looked at the calm but somewhat run-down individual dressed in advisor’s robes, who seemed to be rather heavily pregnant. He passed him a scroll.

“King Thranduil sends his regards, and begs aid of Lord Elrond.”

“Thranny needs our help?” said Glorfindel, grinning. “So the day is not a total loss, is it?”

Haldir rose to his feet as he saw Elrond step out of the room. All fell silent. Elrond wiped blood off of his hands, then said softly; “He will live Haldir, do not fear. He will need much care, and his recovery will be long, but he will live. I wanted to spare you the grief of uncertainty. Now I must get back to him.”

Haldir watched Elrond retreat back into the chamber once more, then sat down hard, as though all strength had left him, and wept in relief.