He looked around the camp fire. All the Elves seemed to have disappeared...

“The Elves...” he said. “The Elves...” Nobody was listening to him. Then, from behind the log opposite the fire where Legolas and Ciendriel were no longer sitting, he heard a moan. Merry stood up so he could see a tangle of pale ethereal skin that he only vaguely recognized as Haldir’s brothers.

He sat back down, and looked over at Angelica and Pippin. Pippin rolled off of her and sat up, his face red. Angelica sat up, too. They were both breathing heavily. They looked so beautiful. Merry’s heart felt heavy. He stared.

“Merry,” Pippin said, “I’m sorry.”

“Sorry?”

“About the smoke.”

“What smoke?”

“The...pipe weed...”

“Oh, oh, yes...” Merry looked over at the fire, which hadn’t gone out entirely when Frodo had dumped water on it and was still spitting and smoking. “Never mind that, Pippin. You have nothing to be sorry for, Pippin. Nothing.”

Merry turned his eyes to Angelica, and she looked dreadfully sad in that moment. Suddenly Merry knew that her sadness was his fault. She had never wanted to come between him and Pippin. And Sam was right, the two of them looked adorable together. They were two of a kind, he thought.

“Oh, good,” Pippin said. “Now-- Merry, I had a brilliant idea. Do you remember?”

“I remember you saying you had a brilliant idea, Pip.”

“Yes, wait til you hear it, Merry!”

“Tell me, then, Pippin.”

“Angelica. I told you, too!”

“Told me what?” asked Angelica.

“That I had...a brilliant idea.”

“You did tell me that, Pippin.”

“I did tell you that.”

“You did.”

“I did.”

“Now...what was the idea?”

“What idea?”

Angelica sighed, then she looked at Merry. He smiled at her, and she started to laugh. Angelica’s laughing made Merry laugh, in turn. Pippin frowned for a moment, but then began to laugh as well. Angelica ran to Merry and sat down on his lap, throwing her arms around him and kissing him full on the mouth. Merry kissed her back. Pippin was still laughing.

Dimly, Merry heard Gimli say “I told you, Master Frodo, that my jokes were funny!”

***

Haldir stood calmly in the water of the stream, waiting for Ciendriel to reprimand him for taking his cleanliness into his own hands, or for Legolas to berate him for leaving the group, unattended, but the two of them were standing there staring at him as if they had never seen him before. He frowned. What were they up to?

“Don’t just stand there staring at me. Strip off your clothing and come in,” he said, not thinking for one moment that they would do it.

Ciendriel and Legolas came out from behind the rock, and slowly began shedding tunics and leggings, still staring at him as if they were forced by some spell to do his bidding. It took all of his composure not to let his mouth drop open in shock as the pair of them stripped and waded into the stream.

Ciendriel pressed her fair, nude body against Haldir’s side and took a deep breath. “Ahh, the Marchwarden stinks no longer!”

“Thank you,” Haldir replied sardonically.

Legolas dissolved into laughter at these words, then lost his balance and slipped into the water. Ciendriel turned in the direction of the splash and began laughing as well.

“Ahh, he sinks even without a boat!”

Legolas was certainly not an Elf known for bouts of laughter, and Haldir frowned. He splashed over to Legolas and fished him out of the water, setting him on his feet. Legolas put his arms around him, holding on for balance.

“What sort of game are you playing?” he growled suspiciously.

“I thought you liked games, Haldir,” Ciendriel said, purring wantonly. She looked delicious rising out of the water like a nymph, and Haldir licked his lips.

“Haldir is a veritable master of games,” Legolas said, then he kissed Haldir full on the mouth.

Haldir was not one to waste this opportunity, even if he didn’t know what they might be setting him up for. He took control of the kiss, turning the tide roughly, forcing his tongue between Legolas’ all-too-eager lips. He discerned a strange, smoky flavor that made him suspicious.

He withdrew his mouth, then crooked a finger at Ciendriel. She glided eagerly towards him, and he slid his arm around her to kiss her, too. He caught the same flavor, but now he was able to identify it.

“Have the two of you been smoking Hobbit pipe weed?” he demanded.

They dissolved into laughter again, and he was tempted to let go and drop them both into the water.

“Pippin...” said Legolas, “Pippin was...running.”

“And then he FELL,” Ciendriel added. They laughed again. Haldir nodded impatiently.

“He...he dropped it. Into the fire.”

“GREEN pipe weed!”

Green pipe weed? That explained it, Haldir thought. The two of them were out of their minds. They probably would not even remember any of this in the morning. The noble thing to do would be to get them to try to lay down, not try to lay with them, but he wasn’t feeling particularly noble. This would be a good time to see if the Mortamoris had worn off.

If Pippin had dropped the pipe weed into the fire, the Hobbits were probably all just as far out of their minds, the Dwarf more so... he thought perhaps he ought to take them back to the camp to check on it, but surely they were all safe with Rúmil and Orophin on patrol. It would be better for Ciendriel and Legolas to get some fresh air...

...and if they wanted to throw themselves at him, who was he to deny either of them their desires?

Haldir had an arm around each of them, settling himself comfortably in the middle. He turned his head to kiss Ciendriel, then Legolas. Ciendriel splayed her hands on his chest, then she turned to kiss Legolas. Haldir heard her sigh in the back of her throat, and he felt a pulse of arousal, but still was the Mortamoris working, for the arousal that hummed in his blood did not extend to his extremities.

He cursed silently. It made him want to let go of both of them and stalk back to the camp alone. Yet he was not going to give up so easily. He led them both towards the rock at the edge of the stream, which had a broad, flat top, kissing them alternately as he did. He didn’t talk, didn’t wish to say anything that might jar them from this reverie.

Haldir lifted Ciendriel up and sat her on the rock. Then he took Legolas fully into his arms and kissed him thoroughly, until Legolas was quivering in his arms. He heard Ciendriel sigh and saw her watching them with interest, as if she had never seen anything like two male Elves kissing before. She licked at her lips.

Legolas looked up at her with adoration. Yes, that was the only word for what Haldir saw in his eyes. Adoration. It sparked jealousy within him. Letting go of Haldir, Legolas climbed up on the rock next to Ciendriel. The two of them seemed to melt together as they enfolded each other in one another’s arms and touched their mouths together tenderly. Haldir wanted to rip them apart.

He, too, slid up on the rock, behind them. He stroked their hair, then maneuvered his way between them to claim each of their mouths again. He pulled Ciendriel down over his lap, and kissed Legolas, their hair dripping down to tease her face. Haldir saw her slide one hand around to Legolas’ rear end, which she squeezed, then felt her other hand on his own. Haldir was amazed. This girl could easily be a wanton... but when she was in her right mind, she was faithful to Legolas.

Haldir slid his hands over her breasts and her breathing quickened. Legolas stroked her thigh and slid one hand between her legs to her most delicate spot. Color blossomed in her cheeks. She gasped loudly. Haldir pinched her nipples, rolling them between his fingers. Legolas stroked her, and she moaned. She writhed against them as their hands worshipped her. Haldir’s body was alive, humming, but still the Mortamoris chained his passions. He glanced at Legolas, and saw that he, too, must still be within the grip of the herb, for his body betrayed no reaction.

Ciendriel shuddered in their embrace. She was reaching the peak of her ecstasy, and Legolas moaned with her. He bent and kissed her, his chest pressing against Haldir’s fingers. Haldir bent and licked the sensitive tip of his pointed ear, pleased with his hiss of delight.

“Take me,” she whispered when Legolas lifted his head. Her eyes were closed. “Take me, Legolas... Take me...Haldir...”

His heart skipped a beat, hearing her say that. When was the last time that anyone had said that? Haldir closed his eyes and muttered a curse. It should figure that this opportunity would be wasted.

He looked at Legolas and saw him wavering, as if he were about to fall off of the rock. His eyes were half closed. The pipe weed was making him tired, Haldir guessed. Lightly he got to his feet and laid Legolas down next to Ciendriel, safely, so they would not fall off of the rock.

He jumped down and retrieved the fresh clothing he had brought to the stream with him and slowly put it on. He would stay and watch over them until the drug wore off. Slowly he patrolled the bank, never straying too far from the unconscious Elves. In the distance, if he listened hard, he could hear Hobbit laughter.

Ciendriel’s words echoed over and over in his head, words he knew she didn’t truly mean, would have regretted if he’d been able to act on them -- because he certainly would have.

Take me...Haldir...

There was still time for her wish to be granted.

***

Frodo Baggins awoke at dawn feeling light-headed and hungry...very hungry. Perhaps his hunger was encouraged by the fact that Sam was cooking a huge breakfast over a fire that blessedly no longer held any hint of pipe weed smoke. All he could smell was bacon and potatoes.

Frodo stretched, trying to figure out why his first thought should be of pipe weed. What had they done last night? It took quite a bit more thinking than he would have liked before he remembered Pippin tripping and dropping the green pipe weed into the fire.

What had gone on? He had a vague recollection of Gimli telling the most hysterical joke Frodo had ever heard... but he couldn’t remember the joke. He looked around. Sam was laboring over the breakfast, but no one else seemed to be up. Gimli was snoring away, and occasionally muttering in his sleep. Merry, Angelica, and Pippin were all twisted up together like some giant Hobbit puzzle. Frodo was glad to see that Merry was no longer keeping himself apart from the other two. He hoped it wasn’t merely on account of the pipe weed.

Where were the Elves? Frodo saw Haldir’s brothers tangled together behind a log on the ground. It unnerved him a little, for he’d never seen a sleeping Elf before. They usually required so little rest. But where were the other three? Frodo figured he’d better go look. He slipped off without Sam, so intent on his sausages, ever noticing.

Frodo remembered some talk about Haldir wanting to bathe, so the stream seemed the logical place to look. He walked the short distance, the leaves of the forest crackling beneath his feet. He had just reached the stream when he found himself face to face with an arrow in a tightly drawn bow.

“Haldir, it’s me! Frodo!”

Haldir put the bow down slowly. “Forgive me, Hobbit. I’m...a bit on edge.”

“It’s all right,” said Frodo.

“I have not seen my brothers all night, and I should have thought their patrolling would lead them this way.”

“They’re asleep...by the fire.”

“Asleep?” Haldir’s jaw tightened. “Were they, too, affected by the smoke?”

Frodo nodded. “They had just come back to the camp when Pippin fell.”

Was it him, or did Haldir look embarrassed? It was hard to tell, Frodo thought. The big, blond Elf was good at hiding his emotions.

“I see.”

“I came looking for Legolas and Ciendriel,” Frodo said, then hastily added, “And you.”

“They, too, are asleep. I stayed to watch over them. It was too dangerous to leave one to carry the other back to the camp, and I did not wish to inhale the smoke myself.”

“I imagine that was very wise,” said Frodo. He smiled at Haldir, but the Marchwarden only nodded.

“I will awaken them,” Haldir said. “If you can rouse the others, start breaking camp. It is time we moved on.”

Frodo nodded. “I agree.”