It rained all night.

Eventually Angelica dozed off, leaning against Frodo, Sam leaning against her, all of the Hobbits huddled together beneath their cloaks to protect them from the storm. She didn't know how long she slept, but she was aware when she began to waken that somehow she had lost her dress. Lips moved slowly over her own. She wasn't sure which one of them it was (though her suspicion was that it was Frodo) and part of her didn't care. It was dark, and she could see nothing, and it simply felt wonderful.

She was not only being kissed. Small Hobbit hands were caressing her body, hands of more than one Hobbit. She tried to guess who was dipping into the valley between her legs, who was squeezing each breast, who was fondling her rear end, and whose lap she lay across, but she didn't know for certain.

She sucked in a deep breath between kisses. Labored breathing filled the makeshift tent, and the occasional groan slipped free. Pippin was pretending to sleep, she guessed, from the fake snores he was giving out, but he wasn't any less involved in this communal groping than anyone else. She wondered if the boys were stroking each other as well as her. She was almost certain that they were.

This was natural behavior for Merry and Pippin, she mused to herself as pleasure began building strongly inside of her. However, Sam and Frodo were not the orgy type. Maybe the extreme weather and the gentle darkness had allowed them some freedom they normally did not choose to enjoy.

Angelica was soaring. She let her spirit sail as she closed her eyes and rode the waves of pleasure granted to her by her (mostly) silent lovers. She wished it was broad daylight, that they were uncovered with the sun shining down on their backs, that she could see each of their beautiful faces… but she knew that this would never have happened that way, and so she accepted the stolen moment for what it was.

She knew in her heart that this would never happen again -- that this was the last time she would love all four of the Hobbits who had changed her life. Part of her was sad to give up the life of the trollop, but another part of her was ready to go on to something new and more exciting. What would it be like to be loved, always, by just one person?

And which one should it be?

Angelica felt someone move over her and someone move under her, both seeking entrance. Nobody spoke, but everyone shifted to accommodate this. She was sure it was Sam on top of her and possibly Merry behind, and she wasn't sure what Frodo and Pippin were doing, but the fake snoring had stopped and Frodo was making that hiccuping noise again.

She moved with them, no longer able to hold back her cries of pleasure… she wondered how they all managed to keep their own so subtle and tender when she wanted to scream with it. When they flooded her, blackness overtook her, and she knew nothing until the chirping of a bird overhead woke her.

The sun was shining on her face. She opened her eyes and rubbed them with her fists. She was lying beneath a pile of cloaks. She was naked beneath them, which she realized mostly from the fact that she could see her dress neatly folded sitting on the ground beside her. The smell of stew filled the air. Sam, Frodo, Merry, Pippin and Haldir's two brothers sat gathered around a rebuilt fire where a huge pot of it was cooking.

"How much longer?" Pippin asked.

"You're drooling," said Merry.

"I'm starving. We had no dinner last night! None of us!"

"Give it a few more minutes," said Sam. "I'm cooking as fast as I can."

There was no sign of any of the other Elves, or of Gimli, Angelica noted. She caught Frodo's eye and motioned him over.

"Can you pass me my dress?" she whispered.

Frodo grinned and handed it to her. "Sleep well?"

"I was exhausted. I'm surprised all of you are up and dressed…"

Frodo winked at her. "Funny, that."

Angelica thought about pulling the dress beneath the cloaks and slipping into it. Instead, she stood up, letting the cloaks fall into a pile around her naked body. "Good morning, boys!" she said cheerfully.

Once she had all of their attention, she picked up the dress and slipped it over her head. To her immense satisfaction, they were all staring at her, including the two Elves, who were grinning.

"Where's Gimli?" she asked Frodo.

"He still hasn't come back. Nor have Legolas, Ciendriel and Haldir."

"Do you think we should look for them?" Angelica wondered.

"After breakfast," said Pippin. "Please!"

***

Haldir had been standing by the river's edge in the thunderstorm for much longer than either Legolas or Ciendriel had been aware. Though he had not heard their entire conversation, he had overheard a great deal of it. He smirked at the thought that had he wanted to, he could have killed them both before they ever saw him coming. Of course, killing them was the last thing he wanted to do with them, but somehow knowing that he could made him feel just a little bit superior.

Superior, then, damn it all, worried about the two of them, foolishly spending their energy and distracting each other with lovemaking. What if a band of orcs came along? Or those giant spiders that lived in the forests near Mirkwood? Goblins. A troll. Unfriendly Elves. What would they do?

Haldir hated being rained on almost as much as he hated being dirty. It made a wreck of his hair, and he despised wearing sodden clothing. Haldir had helped Orophin and Rúmil get on the track of a brace of conies -- not easy in the rain and the dark, but he would never have admitted that to the Hobbits or the Dwarf -- then slipped away from his brothers to follow the sound he caught on the air, the sound he knew to be Legolas and Ciendriel. They would be soaking wet, he had mused, and that would be a sight worth seeing.

He should have known they would be naked as well, wrapped up in each other, easy with each other, and with the rain, as much at home there as they would have been in a sunny forest. He felt mildly jealous… and then he realized that they were speaking about him. So the Princess wanted to see him entwined with her Prince, did she? Of course, he would have been happy to oblige.

Haldir wondered if she was right, that his proposition would lead to pain for himself as well as the two of them. He considered this. He knew he did not truly have any choice as to whether he married Ciendriel. If Morgone and Galadriel wished it of him, it would be done. He had long desired Legolas for himself but had given up long ago the idea that he might be able to love the Prince of Mirkwood. Giving in to love, that was where pain lay, Haldir knew. How often had he seen the destruction that it wrought.

Maybe he ought to keep the Princess to himself if they were wed, even if that meant giving up Legolas Greenleaf. If separated, maybe he could cultivate in her some feeling for him. It would be very satisfying to be beloved of Ciendriel, Haldir suspected. Yet letting go of Legolas was something that would not ever be easy.

He wondered if either of them had seriously considered his proposition at all. If they had not, he wondered if they would think twice when Morgone commanded him to wed with her daughter. In Haldir’s mind, there was no doubt that the Queen of Ingra would stand by what she had decreed.

“I simply want this to be resolved amicably,” Ciendriel said, and at this time Haldir stepped forward to where they could not help but see him.

Lightning flashed, and he saw Ciendriel become startled. He smiled grimly at her. “Good evening, Princess. And Legolas, may I say indeed that this is a rather spectacular view of you, as well.”

As Haldir intended, Legolas let go of Ciendriel and rolled over onto his back, sitting up quickly. The Prince of Mirkwood frowned. “Can you never give us a moment’s peace?” he said, sounding irritated.

“No, I think not,” Haldir said airily. “Not so long as I keep finding you on top of my betrothed. If we were Men, I would have the right to call you out over this.”

Legolas flushed. “Haldir, I wish to quarrel with you no more.”

“Then why not give her what she wished for?” Haldir said.

He took off his wet cloak and dropped it to the ground, then pulled his tunic over his head and let it join the cloak. He saw Ciendriel’s eyes widen slightly. There was lust in her gaze. He was aware of that. Satisfaction shimmered in his blood. He knew he looked good, knew she found him beautiful -- and glancing at Legolas, knew he felt the same. The Prince’s lips were parted slightly and he licked at them. He held out his hand to Legolas, beckoning.

Legolas turned and looked at Ciendriel. She looked at Haldir, then back at him. She bent and kissed Legolas on the mouth, then sat back. Legolas turned slowly, as if he were moving in a dream, and took Haldir’s hand. He rose to his feet, and Haldir pulled him into his arms. He brought his mouth to Legolas’ soft lips.

Kissing Legolas nearly broke him. It felt so good, so right. Legolas opened his mouth to Haldir’s invasion easily, moaning softly into the kiss. Haldir stroked the other Elf’s wet, naked back, down to his firm rear end, squeezing roughly. His fingers moved slickly over Legolas’s skin. Legolas was pliable in his arms.

“Right now, you would do whatever I asked,” Haldir mused.

“I...” Legolas tried to reply but could not.

“You don’t do this because she desires it, you do it because you desire it. Isn’t that the truth?”

“Who could not desire you, Haldir?” Ciendriel said, rising from the ground. She moved behind Haldir, pressed her naked breasts against his back. She kissed his shoulder, brought his hand to his ear and stroked it, teasing the tip of his ear with her fingers. Haldir shuddered and it was all he could do not to moan himself. “It never was a question of desire.”

The rain beat down upon the three of them, and Haldir turned to kiss Ciendriel in her turn. She flung her arms around him and his heart pounded in his chest. This was what it was like, to have her kiss him of her own free will, without coercion. It was miraculous... but then Legolas turned away.

Haldir turned to look at him. Legolas had stepped back, staring at them, looking dismayed. “What is it?”

“While it is true that desire exists between all three of us, I do not think we can share it between us,” he whispered. He looked at Ciendriel, his blue eyes pleading. She let go of Haldir and slipped over to Legolas’ side.

Haldir could not name the emotions that flooded through him in quick succession. He was angry, and irritated, and sad, and heated all at once. For a moment he had seen an end to their troubles. The Hobbits loved all together in one tangle, why could not the three of them? Why was he the one cast aside, when he had been named to wed the Princess? He hardened his features and retrieved his clothing. He looked back and forth between the naked lovers, and ached with the rejection.

“You will change your mind,” Haldir said. “Or you will lose her.”

He turned and stalked off into the brush in search of his brothers.

***

“Why did you turn him away?” Ciendriel whispered. She still clutched Legolas. They had been standing stock still for ten minutes, as if they expected Haldir to return any moment. He did not.

“I could not bear to see him kissing you,” Legolas admitted. “Forgive me. It is not my nature -- or the nature of any Elf -- to be jealous, but when you went to him and he held you, the vision of losing you passed before my eyes. The fear even now haunts me like a cold wind.”

“You will never lose me, Legolas Greenleaf,” Ciendriel told him smoothly. “I will always be a part of you, even if our paths lead us in other directions.”

“Do not speak of parting.”

“I do not intend to part from you, no matter the cost, my love.” She shivered. “We should dress, and yet I fear our clothing is as soaked as we are. I have other clothing back at the camp but we may disturb the others in retrieving it.”

“Mean you that you do not wish to stroll back amongst the Hobbits while you are naked?” Legolas teased her.

She laughed. “Do you dare me? If this is so, I shall most certainly stroll naked to the camp!”

He smiled. “There is no need. My cloak was made in Lorien. It is of the finest and soundest cloth found among Elves. The inside will be quite dry. We may use it to shelter from the rain until it stops.”

Legolas picked up his cloak and wrapped it around them, and Ciendriel found that he spoke the truth. It was quite dry on the inside. She put her arms around him and smiled. And yet all too soon her thoughts turned to Haldir and she frowned.

“What is it?” Legolas asked.

“Despite all he has done, I do not wish Haldir to suffer.”

“I do not wish him to suffer, either, Ciendriel.”

“What answer is there to our dilemma?” she wondered.

“Were you disappointed that I did not love him for you to watch?”

“Oh, not so very much. I am rather flattered that you should rather choose not to love him, for my sake. And yet-- Legolas, he walks the forest alone, in pain. For all he may deserve it, I cannot stand the thought. Let us find him.”

Legolas nodded slowly. He tucked the cloak around Ciendriel and picked up his sodden clothing, putting it on despite the fact that the rain went on and on still. Ciendriel handed him his cloak and followed suit. He took her hand and together they went into the wet wood in search of the Marchwarden.

Haldir had not gone far. They spotted him leaning against a tree, one hand extended as if he were ill.

“I spoke in haste,” Legolas said softly. He moved towards Haldir, who turned to face him slowly. “Haldir, do not let there be this... poison... between us.”

Haldir looked at both of them and to Ciendriel he looked vulnerable. Wounded. He seemed to need something which he had been denied, something Ciendriel now questioned was in the power of Legolas, or perhaps even herself, to give him.

“Just remain my friend, Legolas,” Haldir said in a hoarse voice. “I suppose in the end, that is all that I have any right to ask for.”