Hey, y'all. The vignettes aren't written in chronoligical order. they're also unedited in the larger scheme of things. i have gone thru them to edit the individual stuff (mostly), and numbered them according to their relative chronological order. but the order in which they appear in the side bar is neither in chronological order of the story nor in order in which it was written. please refer to the side bar for the various vignettes and the links to their pages. you can get their relative order by the (?/?) beside the titles. eg: (1/?), followed by (2/?) followed by (3/?) etc...


hugs, fazy

Title: The Marraige Ceremony
Author: fazy
Email: chopstickssg@yahoo.com
Pairing: Haldir/ Elrond.
Rating: R
Archive: Melethryn, ff.net, LoM.
Summary: Elrond and Haldir make the relationship official.
Genre: AU (21st century), slash, mpreg.


The crowd was gathered in a neat semicircle around the garden complex, with the dearest of them all standing closest to the center. Elrond looked round. Yes, the dearest... but it wasn't them who captured his attention today. No, he wasn't of the circle. Not today.

It was a simple ceremony that Elrond had conducted countless times... not exactly a *wedding* ceremony per se, but more of a ritual of confirmation. It was at once a declaration of commitment from both sides and a plea to the Valar to bless that declaration.

He could still remember the ceremonies he had conducted in Imladris so long ago. He could remember every single one. Back then, it would have been held close to nature: by the river and under the sighing boughs, and the whole of Imladris would have turned up to witness the ceremony.

And after that there would be feasting. Elrond could still remember sitting in his chair at the head of the table with the couple, watching the festivities. There we times he longed to join the fun, to immerse himself in a swirl of colour and bright lights, but always he had to remain at his post. He was the Lord of Imladris. He knew his place.

As did Haldir, though in a slightly different way. Unlike both Elrond and Galadriel, whose sense of duty compelled them to be part of the action while at the same time passively watching over it, Haldir's place was away from the noise and crowd. As marchwarden, his duty was to keep Lothlorien safe while the majority of the population was otherwise engaged. The ceremony was a special once, and the honour of witnessing one was not an opportunity to be missed.

And every time it was performed, the boarders of Lothlorien would be devoid of all but a few of it's elite Guardians. They had to be the elite. All the Guardians were elite. Haldir had made sure of it. For the duration of that one night, a single Guardian might have to take the place of thirty such watchers, and though there was an unofficial rotating roster for service during special occasions, the Marchwarden never got a night off to partake in the festivities.

And so Haldir was possibly the one elf who had never witnessed a ceremony in all his life. Even Elrond's seneschal had had the opportunity to sit in on one every now and again. 'But that wouldn't have been *too* suprising,' Haldir thought bitterly. After all, Elrond had been Glorfindel's lover back then, and the blonde eldar would surely have gotten all the concessions he demanded. Elrond would never dream of disobeying. Back then, Glorfindel had had Elrond under his thumb.

It was Haldir's first ever ceremony, and nervously, he glanced up at the dark haired elf beside him and bit his lip. But all traces of uncertaintly vanished when Elronds's eyes met his. The blonde could see the joy and serenity playing in those dark orbs, and together they shared a secret smile. Today was their day. Today it was them who stood facing Galadriel before the semi-circle. It was for them that the crowd had turned up for.

Overhead, the clouds rolled by, candy-like wisps of cotton amidst a bright blue sky. It was promising to be a beautiful day.

===

Chapter 2

**flashback to the morning of the ceremony**

Haldir lay on his back panting softly as Elrond dominated him. Occasionally, a strained cry would threaten to escape through his wide open mouth, but despite the peredhil's best efforts, the blonde elf remained resolutely silent. The peredhil struggled to keep his eyes open, strained to keep his vision fixed on the wicked scene before him, to keep himself entranced by the red flush of arousal that his lover's cheeks and the sweat-drenched hair that stained the pillows, but the lull of his sexual high was too immense... too intense... too overwhelming. Powerless to fight it, the darker elf closed his eyes in blind surrender as he let his passions overcome him.

But Haldir did not. Though the Lorien elf's eyes were tightly shut, there was a hint of pride and rebellion in his face and features that refused him the pleasure of a quiet surrender. No, Haldir was a fighter, and here as with anything else, he refused to succumb.

But it was so difficult! Elrond's laboured breathing was like a siren call, drawing him ever closer to his own surrender, and the fit-like tremors that tore through the peredhil's body every now and again acted upon the blonde more potently than the throbbing heat of his lover buried deep inside him. It was a battle soon to be lost, and yet... and yet the marchwarden in him would go down fighting. He would not give in... he would not give in... he would not, could not.

And then it was as if something in him snapped, and whimpering, Haldir thrashed his head in an agony of pleasure. Throwing pride to the dogs, he strained upwards, lifting Elrond to such sudden, unexpected, dizzying heights of pleasure that the darker elf came instantly...

It was almost too unfair.

It had taken him that long to reach a state of abandonment, and just as soon as he broke free of the binds surrounding him, it was over and Elrond was left as little more than a steaming, panting heap sprawled over him. It was too unfair.

Whimpering, Haldir thrust up again against his lover's limp body but it was no use. Elrond was spent, and although the he greeted the gesture with a low, appreciative moan, the peredhil did not respond with any more of the same.

Haldir clenched his teeth, anger and resentment building up inside him even as his eyes treated to well with tears. It was so unfair. How come *Elrond* always found his pleasure? It was just so unfair!

Choking on his bitterness, Haldir wriggled free and lay on his side with his back turned to the now puzzled lord.

"Haldir?" The peredhil’s voice was still low and husky from their tryst, low and slightly wavering, his eyes still dazed from completion. Haldir gritted his teeth.

"Haldir?" Elrond said again, forcing himself to focous. Forcing himself out of the hazy clouds of bliss that came with their coupling. "Is something wrong?" he said, concerned.

"Nothing," Haldir replied icily.

Elrond blinked at his lover' back, then bit his lip in worry. If he had somehow offended the blonde, he knew he would be in deep trouble. Especially now that the Lorien elf was feeling especially vulnerable and insecure. Especially now that the blonde was suffering from tempestuous mood swings. Now that the proud, willful and above all *manly* warrior of an elf was pregnant with his child.

Haldir refused to say the word. It was, for him, The Great Unspeakable. It was written in bold in the air around him, it flashed coloured neons every time they spoke, and yet... the blonde refused to articulate it. That one word. Haldir refused to say it. It wasn’t that he was in denial though. They *did* speak about it, but in the language of innuendo, where everything was hinted at and subsequently understood.

"Are you alright?" Elrond asked tentatively, and braced himself. Starting a conversation with Haldir when he was in that mood was like walking a minefield-- you never knew when something might explode.

Haldir shrugged, and said nothing, and for awhile, Elrond pondered upon his next move.

"Are you... " Elrond trailed off, wondering how he could phrase his thoughts in the least offensive manner. "Did I hurt you?" he ventured, then winced. No matter how what the words, the question was sure to settle wrongly.

Haldir growled softly, a soft reverberation that issued from the back of his throat. Sitting up suddenly, he turned to Elrond. "No," he said curtly, his face just inches away from the peredhil's. "I’m perfectly fine," he snapped, and promptly lay down again and drew the covers angrily over his head.

For a long while, Elrond sat there, not quite knowing how to react. Worry and anxiety mingled with a soft loving concern, and yet... and yet... why was Haldir being so unreasonable, even after he had tried so hard?! Haldir's cold words hurt him, his even colder behaviour stung him, and his own inability to do anything about the matter ripped him to shreds.

"Fine then," Elrond said at last. "If that's how you’re going to be then fine." Sighing in frustration, he glanced at the clock. "It's almost noon," he said to the heap under the blanket.

No response.

"The guests will be coming soon."

Still no response, and Elrond was torn between wanting to pull at his own hair in frustration or just shake his head and sigh. He choose the former.

"Haldir," he said gently, climbing out of bed. He knelt facing what would have been Haldir's face beneath the covers and gingerly drew back the heavy folds of cloth. Haldir's large eyes blinked up at him mournfully. "Hervenn?" Elrond crooned softly. Haldir dropped his eyes. "Come, Haldir, look at me…" he said softly. Slowly, the other's eyes rose to meet his.

"Come, melethron," Elrond said gently, with just a hint of rebuke. "Get dressed. Surely you’re looking forward to today?"

And to Elrond's utmost dismay, Haldir shrugged and looked away miserably. A soft tear tricked down his cheek, soon to be joined by another of it's fellows as a dark stain on the plush bedding. To the peredhil, it was like seeing his worst fears confirmed. "Oh, Haldir..." he breathed. Stricken. Crushed. Heartbroken. "Haldir-nin..."


Chapter 3

"Hervenn... don't you...," Elrond trailed off, downcast, but still Haldir lay there, staring blankly at the air before him. "Haldir..." Elrond pleaded. "Haldir, look at me... please...oh please... ai, Elbereth," he choked when the blonde still refused to respond. Defeated, the peredhil collapsed back on his haunches

"Are you ashamed of me?" he asked softly. "Haldir, tell me now. Are you ashamed of having me as your husband?" he sighed. "I mean, I suppose it's not too unexpected... I mean, you're Haldir... and I'm just a plain, stuffy, stunted, sorry excuse of a half-breed. I mean, why not right? You're... Haldir of Lorien... you have no end of admirers from both the sexes. You can have anyone and everyone you want. Why should you want a priggish, boring, ancient mongrel like myself. You're beautiful. You're popular. You have a reputation to keep up. Why won't you be ashamed of me..." he choked, fighting to keep his emotions in hand.

All unbidden, a traitorous a drop of moisture pooled in the corner of his eye, grew heavy with weight and slid silkily down his cheek, but before it could fall to the floor, it's passage was stopped by four long, lithe fingers.

Haldir drew his fingers away and stared numbly at the sticky dampness that coated it, then lay a finger on his lover's lips and closed his eyes. "Aeron..." he whispered in a pained voice. "Oh, please don't talk like that. Don't even think it. Please. You know it's not true."

At the mention of pet name, Elrond relaxed. Aeron. There was exactly one person in the entire history of the universe who could call him that and not get murdered, and gazing down at him, Elrond could not help the soft smile that spread itself across his face. And yet...

"Would you rather not?" Elrond asked uncertainly. "You know... um."

Haldir shrugged in a non-committal way. The look he wore said it all. They had already sent out the invites. And the guests would be arriving anytime now. There might be a handful who were already there, sipping champagne in the large white gazebo rented specially for the occasion. The two of them could hardly pull out now.

And reading Haldir's expression, Elrond wilted. "Is that... it?" he said quietly. "If you had a choice, you'd rather not?"

"I didn't say that."

"What then? What would you say if you had said something?"

"Nothing!"

"Then what?" Elrond cried, exasperated. "Haldir!"

Haldir looked away and sighed, partially in irritation and partially in an effort to clear his head. Did he truly want this? Of course he did! But... here? Now? Though they had been preparing for months, it still seemed too soon, too sudden.

"I'm sorry," Haldir said quietly. "I didn't mean that. I... it's just... well..."

"You're not sure?"

"No! Of course I'm sure! It's just that it's so fast," he said awkwardly, then sighed in relief when Elrond nodded in understanding. "It's just a bit unnerving, that's all. I guess I'm just nervous. I don't even know how the damn thing goes. What if I screw up? I've never even friggin seen it performed, and now I'm going to be THE person whom everyone's looking at?! What if I do something wrong? And what if... oh, I don't know...something happens. What if I cant hear what Lady G says or somebody says something and I don't know how to answer?"

Elrond smiled. "You'll be fine," he said, fondly. "You always are, somehow or other. You always pull through."

Haldir nodded and bit his lip, mentally psyching himself up for the challenge ahead. He glanced at the clock. Half-past twelve. The people should have started arriving now. "Alright," he said softly. "Lets do it."