Treachery

by squirrelchaser

This is a repost of the story in its entirety; Legolas goes to Elrond as part of an alliance between Mirkwood and Imladris

The whole thing (as of 9-1-03) has been redone. I would like to make three points:

The story line is from In the Eye of the Beholder by Wednesday-mc and Greenwood, and it was published first. It is on fanfiction.net under the pen name Wednesday-mc and, as many of you already know, is a wonderful story. If you haven't read it, read it…read it first, then come back! Okay, now that you're back…the scenes that were the same in the first installments of Treachery were intentional; I thought it was okay; now I know it's not and the scenes are gone. The same characters and especially the same/nearly same dialogue were completely unintentional and occurred out of inattentiveness on my part (no excuse); they are gone too.

I am truly sorry if I offended anyone, and thank you especially to the authors of Beholder for being so courteous and helpful throughout this ordeal. As always, feedback is appreciated.

Title: Treachery

Author: Squirrelchaser

Warnings: Slash (E/L), mild violence, mpreg, AU and as it's the first first fan fic I ever wrote, which means it's BAD; I'm not very happy with it at all.

Summary: Legolas is sent to Imladris to form a political alliance and to escape growing danger in Mirkwood

Disclaimer on LOTR: own nothing…NOTHING! All characters belong to Tolkien, and I am not he; cultural info found in Morgoth's Ring and has been tweaked to suit needs of this story

*Thank you to Myf for Beta reading!*

Treachery

The skies had opened flood gates down onto autumn valley of Imladris, glazing the elegant towers of the Last Homely House in a sheen of tranquility, the raindrops creating a soft patter of music as they coursed down to the River Bruinen.

Inside, safe from the downpour, Lord Elrond scanned the length of parchment that held the message brought to him from Mirkwood. The song of the rain soothed his troubled mind into a serenity that betrayed his disbelief of the Sindarin king's proposition, and was still hard pressed in his calmness to comprehend the reply that had just been penned by his own hand. "What do you make of this?" he cocked one eyebrow to Erestor, who sat partially in shadow beside him.

"Evil indeed has crept back into Mirkwood, but the Wood elves are powerful in skill and number. I can hardly believe that they have grown to need such an alliance – surely there must be some other reason that Thranduil would require such a union, especially with Imladris." Erestor watched the elf lord's mouth twitch, in thought or strong agitation.

Elrond opened a drawer of his desk, taking out a small silver ring and turned it over in his fingers in a moment of thought. Sighing he slipped the ring into a velvet pouch, folded his message, stamped it with his crest, and bundled the two objects together. He then leaned back in his chair, wondering at what he had just done and whose fate was sealed for the worst.

"You intend to accept and consent to a betrothal?" Erestor asked incredulously.

There was a long silence in which Elrond sat tracing his fingertips absentmindedly along the runes inlaid in the desk top, listening to the raindrops pelting onto the roof. At length he said, "The messenger will ride to Mirkwood as soon as he sees fit."

***

Raindrops, little water soldiers of the sky, pelted down the might trees of Mirkwood converging into a mighty army of daunting puddles as they streamed down to the forest floor to continue their assault on any elf that dared venture out doors. Thunder rumbled ominously overhead, but a lone, sopping wet dark-haired elf stood inside the door of the vast hall of the Woodland King, wringing out his cloak in relief. I seem to have brought the storm with me, he thought, surveying the downpour outside. He had fulfilled his duty to Lord Elrond and was now more than willing to welcome the hospitality of these strange Mirkwood elves.

"And that, Legolas, brings me to the explanation of the message that has just arrived." Thranduil set down the scroll and looked steadily to his golden haired son standing across from him, blue eyes wide in shock. "Word has just arrived from Imladris, and it seems that he has accepted the offer and is preparing for your impending arrival."

Legolas, still shocked from the news that such an offer had even been made much less accepted, let himself fall back into an arm chair, his mind racing at all the information that had just been revealed to him. Adar, to form an alliance with Imladris, has asked Lord Elrond to bond to me? And he has agreed? Have they both gone mad?

The final blow seemed to come when Thranduil pulled out a small, dark blue bag, undid the silky white draw string and placed a slender silver ring in front of him on the desk. "I sent its companion with the initial offer."

 "I cannot!" Legolas cried suddenly, sitting forward in the chair in the first show of defiance to his father that he could remember. "Adar, I will not! You cannot force me to bond with anyone! Why have you not told me of your scheme? Why now?"

"Legolas," Thranduil sighed, dropping his gaze and found him self, for the first time, unable to look at the prince. "Please. You must, for reasons…" his voice trailed off. Inside, he was trembling. The king had half hoped that the elf lord would turn down his offer of bonding with his only child, therefore justifying his paternal driven inclinations to keep his son, whom he loved very much, by his side. Yet in doing so you would only be selfishly keeping him here to his demise, Thranduil told himself firmly.

"Tell me!" the young elf demanded, jumping out of the chair and leaning forward onto the desk with both hands, willing his father to meet his gaze. "Tell me why I must!"

The elf king closed his eyes. Should I tell him? No, The answer came quickly. He would be provided with a reason as to not go if I told him. "Legolas, this is something you must –"

"No!" Legolas jumped back, the wild look of a caged animal flashing in his eyes.

"There are ways of persuasion, young prince," came the voice of Alindel, his father's chief advisor and good friend, who strode into the room flanked by several other elves. "If you do not comply, Legolas, then we will have need to take radical measures."

Legolas was looking wildly from his father to Alindel and back. Radical measures? The prince locked eyes to his father in a panic, and utterly confused. As a child neither of his parents had ever raised a hand or even a voice to him; they had never had reason to. The only "radical measures" Legolas had encountered in his young life were for the dwarves they had entered conflict with. "Adar! This is madness! Surely Lord Elrond does not –"

"Legolas, will you not give it some thought?" Thranduil's voice was calm but his eyes were pleading. There are things at stake here you do not understand. "Go, go now, and sleep." When Legolas did not move he added, "Please, my Greenleaf."

Alindel's eyes followed Legolas out of the room. Reaching out and patting his friend on the shoulder as he made is way toward the door, Alindel said in a flat tone, "I am sorry this pains you so, Thranduil."

"So am I, but I am more sorry for Legolas. But it must be done."

"Enter,"

Alindel pushed open the door to the chamber that he had not seen in many, many years, finding Legolas perched precariously on the window sill, looking out over the dark, quiet forest of Mirkwood. He leaned against the door frame. "An escort is prepared to leave as soon as the next dawn, young prince."

At the sound of the familiar voice Legolas sprang from the window, turning to face the other and for a brief, startled moment alarm flashed through his eyes. "What is it that you want?" he demanded, tensing as the door was closed. "Say what it is you came to say and leave me in peace!"

There was a pause while Alindel sized up the elf standing across the room. "I will only warn you once. Radical measures, young prince, radical measures," and with these final words the advisor left the seething Mirkwood prince who threw himself onto the bed.

Fitfully Legolas tossed and turned in his sheets, accomplishing nothing but getting himself tangled up which made him even more agitated. I shall NOT go; they cannot make me! Yet Alindel's threat of "radical measures" rang clearly in his thoughts and he did not doubt the other's intentions…and he would take an unknown elf lord over Alindel any day.

Oh Naneth [mother]! I do not love this Lord Elrond…whom ever he is…how can I bond to one I do not love? I am afraid! I do not know him and he does not know me…what even enticed him to accept the offer? What will become of me? I wish you were here Naneth! Legolas closed his eyes, feeling very young again as the pain that had been growing steadily in his heart threatened to empty its self into sobs, his anguished mind pouring out his troubles in a long stream of thought. Curling into fetal position and fighting tears he thought back to times of comfort, remembering long time ago how his mother held him in her lap and stroked his hair when he was disturbed.  She was always able to make my fears disappear, but then, the last fears she had to nurse were things that did not usually exist in the first place. Elrond Peredhil is very real indeed.

"Hush, love,"

Legolas' eyes snapped open. He bolted up, looking around the room for the speaker, blood rushing in his ears. There was no one. Fantastic, now he was hearing things…surely that would be enticing to the Elda! Seeing no one, he lay back down and closed his eyes, determined to make his body to sleep.

My little Greenleaf, I implore you; comply with your Adar's wishes and make every attempt to bond to the elf lord, for both your honor and his own. Elrond is a very noble and powerful ruler, but his is also not unkind. Your Adar loves you though it may certainly not seem it now…and after all you are both very stubborn. There are things at work that you do not know about, but you must go. There is more Legolas, remember this: do not ride into Imladris with the escort! You must slip away just before you reach the Misty Mountains and ride along the river. You will meet the sons of Elrond, and they will take you to your destination. I love you my Greenleaf. Remember, you are the Prince of Mirkwood, but your duty is to serve.

Legolas awoke very slowly, dreaming that he was being held in the comforting arms of his Naneth, a dream he was loathe to wake from to find himself back in the dreariness of his situation. Soft words still rang in his head, the information and comfort they contained filtering slowly to the back of his mind, but the urgency of the warning and the fierceness of the need to bond still sharp as ever.

I go to Imladris then, Legolas thought unhappily, feeling utterly defeated. For honor…duty...reasons unknown to me…

Thranduil sat on the edge of his bed he looked mournfully at the portrait of his wife hanging on the wall, a morning sunbeam highlighting the gentle eyes and patient face. "Forgive me; I love my son as much as you…but I cannot have him stay in Mirkwood. When they come, Legolas will be the first one they would slay." He sighed, fingering the gold wedding band on the index finger of his right hand. Now my son will be bound to another; how the tables have turned.

"Adar?" Legolas pushed open the unlatched door, walking in before closing the panel behind him and leaning against it. His expression was neutral.

Getting up slowly and standing a few feet away Thranduil asked softly, "Are you angry?"

"Yes. And no. I have accepted my fate, and will go to Imladris." Legolas was careful to wipe the pain, fright, and uncertainty from his words, setting his jaw and looking resolutely at his father. He would want me to be strong and strong for him I will be.

 "I wish it could be different." Thranduil wrapped his arms around his son in a regretful embrace, wondering to himself at this miraculous change of heart. Legolas had never been difficult to raise, but he had always possessed a fierce sense of independence and pride, which mixed with stubbornness made him not easily swayed.

"As do I," Legolas felt his anger soften as he looked at the sadness etched into Thranduil's features. His father had lost his wife, and now he was to loose his only son. And Legolas sensed that he was troubled by something the prince was unable to distinguish. Perhaps his insistence to bond to the Peredhil had something to do with it. "Adar, have times grown so dark for Mirkwood that we must have this alliance? Are things really so desperate?"

For a moment Thranduil had to remind himself that this was not a young, innocent, wide eyed child that looked to him for answers; Legolas had had first hand experience with the darkness that leached the peace and life, as had Alindel and his wife. Yet ignorance for the prince would continue to be his protection.

"It is for the best, my Greenleaf." Thranduil said firmly, even as he struggled against his paternal instincts that craved to keep his child beside him. Suddenly he turned away, going to a small cabinet he unlocked it and took out the silver ring that Legolas had rejected two months ago and dropped it into the waiting palm. "From Lord Elrond." He held out another ring, a slender gold band. "It is tradition of the Noldor, as a sign of your bond for when the time comes. I give this to you now as I do not know what will come in the months ahead."

Legolas took the rings but did not put the silver betrothal band on, instead turning them over in his hands and listening to the soft clinking of metal. "Adar, I know it is tradition among the Noldor to wait a year before officially bonding. May I wait the next eight months in Mirkwood, for I do not wish to leave yet?"

Again Thranduil looked pained but said gently, "Times have changed, Legolas." Times have become dangerous for you and me, as the shadow grows south of us. But Thranduil did not tell his son this.

"Then I am leaving when?"

Looking away Thranduil answered softly, "Tomorrow. You will find your things packed away when you return to your chambers."

Legolas felt his heart sink in dismay, but suddenly felt too defeated to argue. What is the use? Bonding, courtship…it will all be diplomatic and unbearable. Marriage used to be about the union of two souls…what became of that?  He thought resentfully, slipping the silver ring over the index finger of his right hand. He dropped the gold band into his pocket with a mental note to stow it in his quiver, where he knew it would never be lost.

His father raised his eye brows at his storage methods.

"I know it shall be safe there," he explained.

"Legolas," Thranduil asked softly as his son left for bed. I hope the Peredhil will be kind. But again not voicing his thoughts he said aloud, "Mirkwood will miss you, my little Greenleaf,"

"It is Mirkwood that I serve in my absence. I will miss you Adar,"

"Goodbye my Greenleaf," Thranduil's words rang in Legolas' head. "You will be safe in Imladris,"

"Safe from what?" Legolas had demanded but Thranduil had bitten his lip, blanched at his slip of the tongue, and refused to say anymore.

Legolas took one last look at his home and his father standing at the great doors as the escort cantered off through the forest toward the path through the Misty Mountains that would eventually lead them to Imladris. Safe from what? He wondered again.

The leaves of Mirkwood had turned golden and red and had begun to fall creating a colorful mural over which the company passed, observed by none other than a family of fat squirrels scampering about in the canopy. Legolas watched the nimble creatures darting about in the trees, remembering how as a small child he too had leapt from branch to branch. He smiled to himself as he remembered the first – and last – time he had managed to catch a squirrel by the tail…and he still bore the marks to prove it.

The procession sang softly of elven lore as they continued slowly though Mirkwood, with Legolas riding in the back and only half listening as he preferred to drink in his surroundings. They were singing of Tinuviel, the tale of how she found her true love, something the prince found very ironic considering the purpose of this journey.

After a brief rest Legolas found to his agreeable surprise that he was riding beside one of the elves that had grown up with him; they had been one of few elven children along time ago and had trained together.

Nudging his horse forward a pace Legolas called, "Nadurithin, I did not know that you were part of this endeavor," He smiled; glad to see a familiar face. Whoever had organized this group had seen fit to send him to Imladris with a good deal of the border guards, few of whom he was familiar with.

The other elf turned and smiled in recognition. "Your father thought you might like to see my face, though his advisor seemed to think otherwise."

Why does that not astonish me? Legolas scowled at the thought of Alindel.

Nadurithin reached forward and touched his friend's arm hesitantly, leaning in and lowering his voice. "Forgive me for saying so, but this union seems very odd to me. You go willingly?" he asked boldly, meeting the prince's gaze.

Legolas held his gaze for a moment and had to glance away before answering. "I go of my own accord. You do not see me tied up and thrown across Mithlilien's back now, do you?" he forged a small smile, anxious to change the subject. "How long before we reach Imladris? I can already see the mountains in the distance."

"Haven't you ever been there?"

Legolas shook his head, and Nadurithin looked incredulous.

"You have never met the one you are promised to be bound to?"

"No," Legolas said in a dry tone that indicated he did not want to continue on the subject. "I have only heard things in song of my destination. Speak well of Imladris, so that I may not dread its coming."

The other elf stretched back and shifted his weight, looking thoughtful. "I have only run a few messages there and back. It is very beautiful, but a different sort of beautiful from Mirkwood, which is quiet calm of the lush green forest which you and I love so much as we are wood elves. Imladris seems to celebrate the beauty of the water, the rushing waterfalls and river of the valley instead of the breath of the wind in the leaves. The house is open and breezes blow through, not much like the dwelling you are accustomed to. There is much song and wisdom, especially at night; it glows in true glory under the stars, where they seem to shine brightest. I think you would be hard pressed to remain troubled there, my friend," Nadurithin finished softly, hoping that his words would prove true.

The rushing of the water will be very different indeed, as will many other things be very different, Legolas thought. "I hope you are right. Few things have troubled my heart more than this." In truth, I am very afraid, his mind added, but his prideful heart prevented him from speaking these words aloud.

"Why do you go?"

That is exactly what I ask. Indeed very few elves knew of the true nature of the union of their prince and the Elda lord and Legolas took a moment to prepare a tactful answer. "I go," he said at length, drawing him self up and looking ahead, "For duty. My duty as Crown Prince; my duty to serve Mirkwood by forming an alliance, duty to Mirkwood that was placed on me at birth."

Sympathy rose for his friend rose in Nadurithin's chest and he did not envy Legolas' high position. However, the prince's tone and posture had changed, all of a sudden bringing an air of powerful dignity to his young face that the elf had seen in few, and he dared not speak his thoughts. "After we the pass through the Misty Mountains we will come upon Imladris in a day's travel," Nadurithin said instead. Adding softly nearly an after thought, "I admire your commitment. I do not think I could do what you are doing."

***

So it is done. We, two elves who have never even met, are betrothed. Elrond rolled up Thranduil's reply and set it on the table beside him.

"Your hand shakes. It takes a great deal to make the hand of an elf lord shake."

At the sound of the familiar voice Elrond smiled in spite of himself. "And pray tell, Lord Glorfindel, what makes your hands shake?"

The golden haired Elda sat down across from him with a rueful smirk. "That would be obvious: balrogs, of course. Well, perhaps not anymore, but I do not wish to find out." Face softening, he leaned forward and said gently, "You are troubled by this message of Mirkwood. No, do not draw yourself up in stateliness as you prepare a diplomatic reply. Do not speak to me as the Lord of Imladris; speak to me as my friend."

With these gentle words Elrond felt his posture soften. Indeed, Glorfindel was the few, possibly the only one who could ever make him bare his soul. Standing and crossing the sitting room he went to his desk, retrieved a small roll of misty sage-green colored cloth, and returned to his seat beside the other. "This came with the first message from Mirkwood, sent about three months ago."

Grasping the edges Elrond let the bundle unroll in his lap to reveal a pattern of beech and oak leaves embroidered in gold thread on the square of the finely woven green material. In the center, tied with a bit of thread, was a small silver ring. Easily snapping the ring loose from the gold filament, Elrond slipped the band over the first finger of the right hand and slowly looked to Glorfindel.

Glorfindel's eyebrows shot up to his hair line. With an expression of disbelief tinged with horror he croaked, "Thranduil? You are betrothed to Thranduil?"

At the thought of this Elrond nearly laughed aloud. "No, he is already bound."

"To whom then?"

Licking suddenly dry lips, Elrond looked away and said quietly, "To his son, Legolas."

"You look so troubled, facing what should be a happy occasion. You do not love him?"

The elf lord stiffened. "I have never met him. The Crown Prince Legolas' life seems to be in peril the longer he stays in Mirkwood, and Thranduil has only just now disclosed to me other facts that reassert the necessity for Imladris' protection."

Reaching out Glorfindel put one slender hand on Elrond's shoulder, gazing at the top of his dark head steadily until he relaxed his posture and lifted his chin to meet his eyes. "Yet there is more, my friend. Perhaps you will find love this time; after one has tasted love as your self how can you not desire to look for it again?"

But Elrond was already shaking his head. "I am not hopeful, Glorfindel. Imladris has long been a haven," his tone turned formal and brisk. "At best this marriage will be an alliance, at worst it shall be no better than my first."

***

Legolas smiled as he cantered along the edge of the river, feeling the wind draw his hair back, feeling truly free for the first time in months. He looked over his shoulder at the mountains that loomed to the left of him, laughing to himself as Mithlilien fought the bit and quickened his stride, sensing the joy in his elf that had long been absent.

Slipping away had been little trouble, and he had hoped that they would continue on as planned when he was missed…if he was missed. It was a very large escort after all.

The young prince thought of what Nadurithin had told him of Imladris as he listened to the rush of the water beside him, following it down stream to where it would lead to Imladris before joining the River Loudwater and eventually lead to the Sea. Perhaps it will not be so bad…even if I cannot bring myself to love Elrond; perhaps the surroundings will be worth it.

He had long since taken off the betrothal ring and, fearing to tuck it away in his clothes, slid it to the top of his braid and secured it with a leather thong.

Night fell and the elf rode on over the soft turf beside the river, singing softly of Nimrodel to keep himself from thinking of what lay ahead. It was the darkest part of the night when in the distance Legolas saw the glimmer of a camp fire ahead of him and drew Mithlilien to a walk. Ever since evil had invaded the Southern borders he knew better than to ride up to an unknown camp, though it was probably just some rangers, he told himself.

Approaching slowly, he was still a fair distance away when he dismounted, bid his mount to wait, and crept forward. No indeed, Legolas thought in surprise and relief, drawing near enough to see two figures around the fire. These are not rangers,

"Who goes there? Show yourself, or be slain!" The figure put an arrow to his bow.

"I mean you no harm," Legolas said hastily and waited until the weapon was lowered before he strode into the firelight and made a gesture of greeting. "There is only myself and my mount," he called softly over his shoulder to the gelding, who neighed in reply and followed. Legolas took in the presence of two dark haired elves, nearly identical in appearance and dress, clad in deep blue and grey.

One elf lay on the ground covered in a silvery cloak while the other, stood over him in a protective stance, relief quickly taking over alarm as he eyed the newcomer. "A Mirkwood elf!" he assessed from Legolas' attire, lowering his bow.

Legolas bowed courteously. "My apologies for causing unease, but care is necessary; there is evil again in Middle Earth."

The elf returned the bow hastily and sprang forward saying, "I am Elladan, son of Elrond. My brother Elrohir was caught in a trap and bitten by one of the spiders of Mirkwood just this afternoon, and he has already fallen very ill." As he continued his explanation Elladan slowed slightly and took on the apprehensive look of one who was not used to or liked asking for help, and was trying to figure how to do so now. "I have no other knowledge or experience of such wounds and am trying to get him home to my father as quickly as possible, but he has of late fallen too ill to travel."

Legolas spared him the trouble of continuing, unbuckling the quiver slung across his back and fumbling in the pack attached to it, grateful to have an excuse to turn his face away. My dream told me I would meet with the sons of Elrond...pity that we had to find one another in this predicament.  Finding the pouch of herbs he was seeking, Legolas straightened and moved toward the prone figure with Elladan leading the way.

Elrohir lay on his side, eyes closed, and did not respond when Legolas shook his shoulder gently, calling his name.

"Here," Elladan said, as he uncovered untied a bandage to reveal a very nasty looking wound just below the back of the knee. Elladan watched the other's reaction anxiously. "We have never had encounters with creatures of this kind before, and they came upon us unaware."

A bite that severe has not been seen by any healer of Mirkwood in recent memory. It must have been a very large spider indeed, and it will not take long… Legolas let his thoughts trail off with great alarm. "An understandable predicament," he murmured, crushing some of the herbs with his fingers and mixing them with water, careful to keep a tremor of worry out of his voice. "This will not provide a potent enough treatment; it is merely what we woodland elves carry with us to slow the poison until we are able to return home." He spread the paste liberally on the wound, and retied the bandage.

Elrohir groaned, and the two elves exchanged an anxious glance.

"There is little more I can do with out more medicine."

"But you have the knowledge to treat him successfully?" Elladan cried hopefully, taking Legolas' forearm.

"With the correct treatment they are rarely fatal, though there is much more needed than anything we will find out here. Ill or not, your brother cannot stay here. I have heard that your father is a great healer. Where are your horses, and how long will it take to reach Imladris from here?"

The dark haired elf frowned, looking west. "Over land at least three days if we move in great haste. The Misty Mountains are a formidable barrier. By river maybe one, if we are lucky. Is there not any way we could travel to your dwelling? Is it not nearer?"

At the suggestion, Legolas gave a start. "No," he said quickly. "It is very far. To continue to Imladris is by far the best plan. If we can journey there in one day that would be the best for your brother."

"Very well, by boat, courtesy of the Rangers, though they do not know it yet."

"We best make haste then." Legolas prompted, raising his eyebrows, and Elladan disappeared into the darkness. Not long after that there was a splash, and the elf returned into the circle of firelight and called his mount over.

"Obviously we cannot take three horses with us in a boat. Our horses know their way back home; we have left them in similar situations as this before." He gestured to two mares belonging to himself and his brother. "If you would consent to come with us I am sure your mount would follow ours at your bidding." As he spoke he lifted his limp brother in his arms, and strode off toward the boat.

As if fate had anything else intended for me? Legolas rose to follow, pausing to stroke the soft nose of his mount. "I go to my destiny, my friend. First the sons of Elrond then Elrond himself." He looked into the warm black eyes and sighed softly. "Follow the others, so that you may come to safety and return to me, Mithlilien."

The horse nickered softly and blew in his face.

Yes, you understand, Legolas thought with contentment, breathing in the comforting scent of horse and grass as the grey gelding sauntered past him to join the two black mares of Elladan and Elrohir. Legolas knew he would need to fear more for the sick elf in the boat rather than the three horses that ambled off into darkness, but anxiety began to tug at his heart as familiarity and welcome solitude was replaced by Elladan and Elrohir, and a small but sturdy looking water craft. At least with one of them insensible, I will not have to tell them apart.

At first the two conscious elves sat in silence as the river carried them swiftly toward their destination. Just as well as Legolas found himself preoccupied with the fact that these were the sons of whom he was to bond with, and was apprehensive of revealing his identity to either of them. Will they dislike me? I am replacing their mother…what happened to their mother after all, and is it my place to find out? How much like their father are they? At least they do not seem un-likeable...but then one is sleeping.

Thankfully, Elladan seemed preoccupied as well, sitting with his brother's head in his lap, looking uneasily over the rushing water as they passed through the Misty Mountains just as dawn was beginning to break behind them.

"Forgive me," he said at length, turning to Legolas and making a visible effort to look calmer than he had since their introduction. "I have not inquired as to your name, healer from Mirkwood? You are a scout, or a messenger I assume, as you are all by yourself?"

"I did not start out alone," he stalled. Will the sons of Elrond hate me for attempting to bond to their father? "Tell me, what business has the two of you wandering the borders of Mirkwood?"

"Our father Lord Elrond is betrothed to the Prince of Mirkwood," he paused and looked side long at his golden haired companion.

"I am aware," said Legolas wryly, scrutinizing carefully for any sign of resentment or annoyance in the other's words, but he found none.

Seeming taking no notice of his tone Elladan continued neutrally. "My brother and I were sent out to meet the escort that would bring him to Imladris after Adar sent word of his acceptance, as a gesture of hospitality or protection I suppose. The escort never came. We waited along the borders for weeks, biding our time and keeping watch. To make a long, boring story short, we had a run in with the spiders yesterday, and met up with you a few hours later. Other than spiders, Mirkwood houses some of the most vicious squirrels I have ever had encounters with."

At the look on the other's face Legolas rolled his eyes and almost found himself grinning. "You have no idea. But I gather that you must not have received word that there was a …hindrance in departure from Mirkwood."

Elladan shook his head. "No. But perhaps we had gone when the message was received."

"It was a very long delay." A very, very, very long delay.

The elves sat in silence for a while longer, Legolas sporadically checking on Elrohir, who twitched and moaned occasionally, eyes still closed and body still limp. "He is not worse by much. The poison is slowed, but the sooner we reach Imladris, the better."

"Elrohir is getting stiff; is he in pain? He is not in irreversible danger?"

"I do not think so: of either danger or pain."

"I am glad for that. Will you be able to treat him successfully?"

"Yes. Once we arrive to Imladris, I will be able to do much more to assist your brother, as I assume that Lord Elrond will be very well equipped." At the though of finally meeting the elf lord he was to bond with, Legolas desired again to change the subject. "I have not heard of many elves traveling by boat."

"Then you have not visited the Galadhrim. My grandmother's ways have rubbed off on the two of us," the twin laughed. "We discovered how much faster we could go places by water, though there are few of our kin who would join us, especially on the route we are taking."

Raising his eyebrows Legolas rounded on him, asking with faint alarm, "Why?"

"The River Bruinen is swift and dangerous, and there are many waterfalls near Imladris. Fear not." Elladan dismissed the power of nature and gravity with a wave of his hand. "We have traveled this way many a time and have yet to encounter a deadly scrape."

I would abhor being a participant in the first. What an entrance that would be!

***

Night was fading as Glorfindel, looking for a book, pushed open the door to the healing wing to a scene he certainly did not expect.

Elrohir was lying stiffly on the bed, Elladan standing guard (as usual) over his brother, and there was a strange blond elf in the corner, working diligently over a bubbling pot.

Moving quickly to the elf on the bed and finding him breathing shallowly with little reflexes Glorfindel snapped, "What happened?"

 "We were attacked by spiders," Elladan pointed to Elrohir's leg and Glorfindel removed the bandage to examine the still bleeding wound with his fingertips. "Elrohir was bitten there a little over a day ago. We met with an elf from Mirkwood who has some knowledge in how to care for the poison, and he has nursed him until our arrival here."

The prince looked up briefly, his blue eyes flashing into the elf lord's blue ones. The Lord of Imladris?  "Do not worry, Lord Elrond," he said softly, turning his attentions back to the concoction he was tending. "With our combined efforts I am sure we will be able to bring back your son."

"I am not Lord Elrond," Glorfindel said briskly, though not unkindly as he cleaned his bloody fingertips. "But I will go to get him now," and the elf left the room.

Legolas stuck his face further into the heat from his concoction, stomach doubling over itself and tightening in fear. He was forced into interaction when a question sounded.

"How does the spider venom work?" Elladan inquired, out of his own curiosity which mingled with and dulled his fear. "And how would one who has no experience treat such an injury?"

Clearing his throat and hoping his fear was not betrayed Legolas replied, "Knowing exactly what the poison will do is essential, as it is nearly impossible to treat it in the aftermath. In the first twenty-four hours it paralyzes, and this is the window of opportunity if you will. After twenty-four hours, the victim is unable to move and much hope of regression is over. The blood then thins, and the prey can be drained dry from the smallest of wounds. Fortunately a spider of Mirkwood has not had a meal of an elf in many years, and we have treatment down to an exact art." Legolas smiled to himself in satisfaction.

Elladan shuddered.

Legolas took the little pot off the fire and began to pour it from one cup to another and back, cooling his potion as quickly as he was able. When he was satisfied, he went to the bedside and, using a spoon, allowing small quantities of the liquid trickle into the unconscious elf's mouth. "We must be careful that he does not choke," he murmured, looking intently at his patient.

"-has been seeing to him? How ironic; the life of my son for the Prince of Mirkwood," came a voice, growing nearer and nearer, and the door was pushed open to let in Glorfindel, followed by a tall, dark haired elf.

"Adar," Elladan rose to greet his father, erasing any doubt in Legolas' mind as to who this new addition to the room could possibly be.

Briskly the elf lord busied himself with tending to the leg wound, appearing to take little notice of any other in the room. But as time wore on Elrond found himself glancing slightly out of the corner of his eye at the golden elf that seemed to be making himself as small as possible in the chair across from him.

Legolas could feel his heart racing with nervousness as he continued to slowly administer the medicine, crouching down in his chair and trying to look as unnoticeable as possible. "The life of my son for the Prince of Mirkwood"…He does not sound pleased at that prospect. The one he would be bound to was sitting inches away from him, and Elrond had no idea of who he was…Legolas, however, had not missed the silver band on the Elda's right hand.

The potion now gone, Legolas stayed in his seat nearly directly across from the elf lord and with surreptitious peeks he slowly began to assess the other. He is patient, gentle…patient and gentle as a healer; at least with his son…Legolas began to wish he were back in Mirkwood.

"Elrohir is growing pliable again and look, he breathes easier," Elladan smiled across to his father, squeezing his brother's hand and flexing the un-stiffening arm. "Earlier, I could hardly carry him in from the boat, he was so rigid."

"The herbs have taken effect…when he wakes up have him drink the rest – it is there on the table – and give him a good quantity of coagulants. He will bleed easily for at least a week after." Legolas shut his mouth in a hurry, regretting that now he had drawn attention to himself as a small part of his pride taunted, Coward! Yet Legolas had not forgotten the dry tone in which the elf lord had spoken of him earlier, and turned his face to look out the window.

"He is out of danger then?" Elrond said, looking to the speaker and willing him to meet his gaze. Who is this healer from Mirkwood? He looks exactly like a male version of her…in many ways he is just like her, he thought over and over to himself. Just like her, but it cannot be!

Legolas continued his fixed stare at the window, half afraid those wise eyes would be able to see into his soul should he look too long into them. "Yes, he is out of danger. Elrohir would have either responded to the potion or stopped breathing all together by now."

Sighing heavily in relief, Elrond remembered himself and rose from the bedside, bowing slightly to the golden haired elf. "My apologies for the informality of our meeting," the said the elf lord graciously. "Welcome, and may I inquire as to whom we are indebted?"

Legolas jumped, mind panicked and met the grey eyes for only the second time since his arrival and felt a jolt run through his body. Summoning all his courage, Legolas had opened his mouth when he was interrupted by an urgent knocking on the door and a voice calling to Elrond, and the prince was spared any further explanation.

***

As evening began to fall the next day, Elrohir awoke much to the relief of his brother and father.

Not wishing to disturb this family interlude, Legolas excused himself to explore the gardens. He found them to his liking though they were more manicured than the wild of the forest that he had grown up with. Climbing a tree, he looked toward the East, reveling in the familiarity of branches cradling his weight and reflected closed his eyes in thought. Nadurithin was right; Imladris is indeed very beautiful, graceful. The waterfalls are fascinating - I have never seen anything like them. He sighed, almost happily, letting the sound of the water and the bird songs wash his mind free of his anxiety and fatigue.

A small sparrow hopped along the branches, curious at this being that had clambered into her home; the elves of Imladris rarely climbed trees. Boldly the bird approached the figure.

Legolas held out his finger and trustingly the little sparrow clung to him on her dainty, fragile feet. The elf carefully brought the bird before his face, looking into the bright, liquid black eyes and smoothing one finger over the brown and white feathers of her breast. "You are a pretty little thing," he said softly, and she peeped in reply, hopping over his hand and up his arm.

Now on his shoulder, the bird turned and looked at the elf, deciding that she liked this new figure. It had no food to offer but like the others it was not threatening in the least. With a flip of her brown wings she alighted on the branch above and proceeded to sing her heart out to impress the ears of the listener below.

Spirit lifting with this bold performer, the elf began to sing along softly, remembering an ancient story that his Naneth would sing to him long ago as he fell asleep. As Legolas sat, the afternoon breeze carried the sound of a familiar horse's nicker, sounding thin and pitiful from the distance to the elf's keen ears.

Mithlilien! Legolas smiled, pushing himself up and climbing higher in the tree, straining his eyes toward the Misty Mountains. Indeed, there were three horses making their way toward Imladris accompanied by border lookouts, with elves from the house riding out to meet them. But, Legolas shaded his eyes with one hand, squinting far away at his horse. Who is that astride him? They look very unwell indeed,

Shimmying down from his perch the golden haired elf ran inside to investigate and to look after Mithlilien, who was none the worse of for journeying two and a half days with no rider, wisely following his newly found companions to Imladris.

"Oh, how I wish you could tell me of whom the elves of Imladris took in just now," Legolas murmured, unusual curiosity stemming in his heart. "Something tells me all is not right,"

The horse whickered in agreement as he was led to the comforting shadows of the stables with Elladan and Elrohir's leading the way with two grooms.

Legolas was pleased at the housing for the horses; the stalls were open on one end to let the animals roam out to a large paddock when they pleased with a door on the inside that opened into the stable. You will behave yourself, out there in entirely new company, the elf warned the horse.

Mithlilien snorted, rearing his head slightly as if to say, I only disobey you.

"No, I have nothing for you," Legolas laughed when the grey gelding began nudging at his pockets hopefully.

With a reproachful look the horse turned and ambled off, in hopes of finding some of the windfall apples from the orchard adjacent to the stables to compensate for lack of food on his elf's part.

The weather was nearly perfect, scented of autumn and all the animals were outside save a dainty chestnut mare with a white star, four stockings and a heavily pregnant belly a few doors down from Mithlilien. The horse whickered softly at the new arrival, perking her ears curiously and blowing in his face.

How small she is…fourteen and a half hands at the very most…"Hello pretty one," Legolas crooned as he leaned over the edge, but was cut off when Elladan came striding into the stables.

"Ah," he smiled to Legolas as his black horse eagerly stuck her nose into her master's face and he reeled backward a step. "That is Alasthin; sweetest disposition I have seen in a long time but watch what you say around her for she can understand it all. I see your mount has made it here safely as well?"

"Yes, no doubt in thanks to the guidance of your own."

Turning and leaning against the sturdy frame of the stall door, Elladan turned his attentions to the fair elf and looked pensive. "I actually came looking for you. With our horses came another Mirkwood elf from the escort that was to bring Legolas from Mirkwood. He is injured."

Legolas turned, the other now having his full attention. "Injured?"

"Not fatally, but he will need healing for many days. The escort was attacked at the end of the mountain pass, so the survivor who came on Mithlilien tells us, and many were slain. I was concerned that you may have had friends…I thought you should know." Elladan looked sympathetically at his guest. "Though Nadurithin said-"

"Nadurithin!" Legolas repeated loudly, stiffening. The escort was attacked? Orcs?

"That is the survivor's name," Elladan explained, puzzling at his reaction. "Nadurithin said that there were others who were still alive; Adar immediately sent out a party to bring them back here. You know Nadurithin?"

Legolas nodded. "Take me to him,"

Elladan obligated, gripping him by the elbow, leading him through long passage ways and large halls to the same wing Elrohir had been treated in.

Wait, Legolas realized. Nadurithin knows who I am…maybe this was not so wise after all...

But his revelation came a split second too late.

Elrond stood with another dark haired elf over Nadurithin, the dark haired elf winding a long bandage around his shoulder and Elrond wetting a cloth with liquid from a graceful blue bottle. "A finger width down and you would have lost your heart," the elf lord was saying, and then he smiled. "A sad loss for anyone; lucky hardly seems appropriate. Though with rest, you will be fine in a matter of days."

"Hello Adar, Nadurithin," Elladan said arriving at the door, Legolas' elbow still in his grip, and Nadurithin turned.

"Legolas!" he cried, and would have sprung off the bed had the dark haired elf not put a hasty hand on his unaffected shoulder.

Ignoring the looks of confusion Elladan and Elrond gave him Legolas bolted forward to his friend's side. "Hush, do not exert yourself,"

Nadurithin allowed Elrond push him back wards so he was lying down. "I thought you dead! We all did, when we could not find you after the attack…oh, we though all was lost! They were waiting for you," He said breathlessly. "We thought they had taken and slain you, or taken and held you…we thought the worst! How did you ever escape and end up here?"

"Legolas?" Elrond intercepted sharply, eyebrows raised as he looked down at the golden haired elves of Mirkwood.

"Yes, I am Legolas," Legolas offered in a tiny voice.

"I did not know that Legolas was the Mirkwood elf Glorfindel said arrived with my sons! Your escort…?"

Legolas sat down in a chair between the bed and the door, trying to hold his chin up and look as dignified as he could under the elf lord's steady gaze. "Yes, originally." He said with as much diplomacy as he could muster, meeting Elrond's deep grey eyes which looked neither angry nor pleased…only expectant. Very expectant. He looked down at his wounded friend, who was squeezing his hand.

"Right before we were to pass through the Misty Mountains I slipped away from the party as a warning in my heart bid me, though I did not know such deadly peril awaited you. I met with the sons of Elrond, where we made short the journey to Imladris. I never acknowledged…I was a little afraid that…" as soon as he uttered them he wished he could take back his words. To be afraid is to be weak, and that will not help you fulfill your purpose…Legolas lifted his head to address Elrond and said in a clear voice, "I am here to fulfill my duty." Reaching behind his head, he untied the leather thong and slid the ring onto his finger.

With effort, Elrond regained his composure. "Welcome to Imladris, Legolas, son of Thranduil," he reached out, touching his shoulder gently. And if you are not careful, Elrond told himself firmly, You will open yourself to injury again if you cannot come out of the past.

Alone in a back room Elrond was rolling up the extra bandages when he saw Glorfindel propped in the corner, arms crossed over his chest, the shadow from the wall not hiding the smirk on his fair face. "I suppose with that ridiculous expression you expect me to ask you what you are thinking," the elf lord said primly, though the bandage drawer was shut a little harder than necessary.

"Perhaps love is not out of the question, Lord Elrond?"

"And pray tell, Lord Glorfindel, exactly what you mean by that?"

Chuckling softly Glorfindel paused with one hand on the door handle to let himself out. "If you think that I did not miss the way you first looked at that elf, even before you knew him to be Legolas, you are not as wise as you are credited to be."

"I think I would be unwise to assume that such love could be given let alone reciprocated in such a short amount of time. It is an alliance, Glorfindel, nothing more."

Elladan, once he had seen Elrohir into bed, took Legolas by the arm and led him down the hall. "Why did you not tell me who you were?"

The other's tone and expression were genuine and gracious enough, but Legolas was beginning to feel irritable and sleepy; he had not slept or rested in two days. "Pray, do not ask me that now for we will have a long time for questions."

The twin shrugged. "As you wish. If you desire you may bathe in there, and through there is your chambers," Elladan nodded to a small door at the opposite end of the room. "Good night and I look forward to furthering my aquaintence, Prince of Mirkwood."

After a quick bath Legolas had changed for bed, looking forward to a long night's sleep in comfort…and hopefully solitude. Pushing open the door that he had been told led to his chambers, Legolas walked into a large semi-circular room with vast, gracefully wrought windows that looked out over the tumbling waterfalls in the distance. The floor was smooth and cool, and there was a very comfortable looking bed set upon a dais. Sighing with anticipation, he closed the door behind him.

"Good evening," came a soft voice. "You look much improved and that color suits you well."

Legolas nearly jumped out of the clothes of the color that suited him so well in surprise as he turned slightly to see Lord Elrond reclining on a nearby lounge next to one of the windows. "My own clothing I can assume is now blowing all over the Misty Mountains," he returned, trying to gauge the situation that lay before him. What is Lord Elrond doing in the guest chambers?

As if he could read his thoughts Elrond said mildly, "These are my private chambers. As far as everyone else is concerned or aware of, we are bound from the first night of your arrival for protection."

Legolas found his tongue stuck uncomfortably to the roof of his mouth. I am to share bed chambers with him? Am I to share a bed with him?  Am I to bind the very first night? I do not love him but I came willingly so would it kill me? Would it kill him? I do not like this call of duty…Legolas turned away from the bed, the elf lord, and the room; walking out onto the balcony that over looked a steep drop off. "I would rather have answers, for much was left unanswered by Adar when I left Mirkwood."

Elrond raised his eyebrows as he stood to follow, looking amused. Perhaps he is thinking of jumping?  "As would I. How did you come to leave the escort and continue with my sons?" he asked casually, though the question had been gnawing at his mind ever since Legolas had left to bathe. Unreadable blue eyes looked at him for a heartbeat before the elf answered,

"I was warned in a dream, both that I should leave the escort and that I would meet Elladan and Elrohir. I do not know why we are to bond though, Lord Elrond. There is much I do not know." Legolas persisted. "My father told me that it is to be nothing more than an alliance, but that is not all; I can feel it. Will you not tell me?"

"Your feelings are true and you have a right to know." Elrond relented. "Your father fears for your safety, and it would seem rightfully so."

Legolas raised his eyebrows in surprise.

"The arrow that struck Nadurithin was not orcish. It was elven; these are the remnants." The elf lord handed over an arrow that had been broken in two pieces. "It is not identical to the arrows you carry but very similar, so there is reason to believe the elves of Mirkwood are involved in someway." Elrond waited for Legolas to absorb this information before continuing.

At this brief pause, Legolas realized he was gaping most undignified and undiplomatic way and closed his mouth quickly.

"Nadurithin told me the party that attacked them was looking for you; he lay wounded and unmoving, but he heard them talking amongst themselves. The assault was planned, Legolas. They were waiting to kill or take you, though I cannot imagine why. Until we find out, it is most certainly inadvisable for you to travel outside of Imladris, especially to Mirkwood."

Legolas looked at him with startled eyes. "Why?" he said quietly in a voice that betrayed his feelings.

"Your father sent me a message recently, right before you left, conveying his own speculations." Elrond reached out and took one long slender hand in his own. "He suspects a traitor on the inside, preparing rebellion. If they were to attempt to take over…well, after Thranduil you would stand in the way."

Jumping up off the couch Legolas cried in great distress, "I must go back to him then! Oh, Adar…I left him!"

"No, Legolas," Elrond said soothingly to the mournful looking elf. "Your father draws his greatest comfort in knowing you are safe, and you help him a great deal in your alliance."

Legolas was shaking. That is why he had me leave, and did not tell me!

"He is not in danger yet. Any upheaval is still very premature, and perhaps may be still forestalled by your absence. I have been pondering it, and I think that had the assault on the escort been successful that would have been the beginning of the end."

"Then I am very glad it was not successful!" Legolas breathed, sitting down once more.

Smiling, Elrond acknowledged, "As am I. On a different level Legolas, how do you feel about the bond that is to be?"

Turning to meet his gaze and lifting his chin staunchly, Legolas replied with pensive diplomatic resolve that sharply contrasted his last outburst, "I am determined to fulfill my duty as Prince of Mirkwood. How do you feel?"

Elrond hesitated. "At first I thought it impossible as a male-male bonding has never been heard of in my time, but my heart told me that there were more things at stake here than emotional and physical barriers. I consented to the bond. Then when your father sent word of his suspicions, I knew that my heart had not misled me."

"Then you bond for my safety and the alliance of Mirkwood?"

"And other reasons."

"Could you bond to me? And do you think I could do so to you, with out fear of forcing my spirit to the Halls?" Legolas asked bluntly, diplomacy falling away.

"Given some time and despite what I may have earlier thought, yes at least on my part. I do not know how you think," he finally admitted to both himself and the Prince. "And you; I want to know what do you feel. You spoke earlier of fear?"

Legolas' pride and practiced determination sparked his next words. "I fear nothing." Legolas felt greatly irritated at his admittance of fear, and wished in his arrogance that he could take back the words. "I fear nothing," he repeated. "I came to bond with the Lord of Imladris, and bond I shall." Standing, he threw off his robe and tossed it over the back of the couch. "You can do with me what you will." Heart pounding, Legolas walked over to the bed and sat on it, holding a steady and daring gaze with the elf lord.

And what is it that you think I will do with you, Prince of Mirkwood, for this would kill you. Is that what you wish? Elrond stood and made his way toward the elf on the bed slowly, not taking his eyes off of the tantalizingly naked figure with feelings of amusement mixing with temptation.

At the sight of Elrond coming nearer and nearer, Legolas began to wish he had thought the situation through before he had acted. Maybe it was the fact that he was naked that caused feelings of vulnerability on his part, but the elf lord seemed more terrible and powerful than he could have ever imagined, growing more impressive the closer he came. Legolas began to wish there was more between him and the Elda than a few paces – a few leagues in fact would have been desirable, as well as many layers of clothing.

"You have great courage, Legolas of Mirkwood," Elrond said in a low, throaty murmur, eyes looking over the lean muscle of his chest and shoulders, the hair glowing golden in the candle light. "You have compassion for your people, and compassion as a healer, and you are very beautiful. Do you still wish to continue and bond?" The heavy outer robe was shrugged off, revealing a very thin tunic underneath.

Legolas made no reply except for a peeping sound from the back of his throat, blue eyes wide as the elf lord reached the dais. Maybe duty to Mirkwood is not so important?

I did not think so, but by the stars is he gorgeous, more so than she… Elrond thought, entranced as he shifted his weight onto the bed, sliding next to Legolas whose eyes seemed round enough to pop out of his head. If you touch him, you will forever be gone…do not touch him! Ignoring reason he reached out with one hand, tenderly caressed the flesh of his neck, feeling the rapid, panicked pulse. Elrond whispered, hardly trusting his own voice, "You are trembling." I am trembling…

Again the elf made no reply.

Elrond sighed to himself, reluctantly withdrawing, sat up, and blew out the candles, feeling Legolas relax slightly as darkness fell.

Perhaps if I do not have to see everything, this will be bearable, Legolas thought, shutting his eyes tightly even in the darkness. But Elrond made no further advances; instead, there was a rustle and bed clothes were pulled over his body.

"Not tonight, Legolas. Not tonight. Sleep, for you need it."

Legolas was too overcome with relief that he could not think of any words to say.

The elf lord lay down next to the elf prince in the darkness, listening to his breathing go gradually from the panicked and ragged sounds of a cornered animal to the smooth and deep sounds of a peaceful slumber.

In the starlight, Elrond reached forward and stroked the length of hair that shone silver white in the dimness, a stark contrast to his own. The elf lord smiled, thinking of how it would gleam so brightly in the morning sun spread out on the pillow beside him, feeling the fine strands slip through his fingers. Elrond took in the still dark lashes that fringed the eye lids, moving next to the elf and daring to let his hand rest on the other's hip. The skin felt warm and smooth, under which the expanse of lean muscle rippled temptingly as Legolas stirred slightly but continued to sleep.

And Glorfindel speaks true for I am lost to this fight, the elf lord admitted to himself as simultaneously admonished his heart. A soft tapping on the door interrupted his thoughts, and Elrond rose quickly to find a hesitant looking Glorfindel on the other side.

"I hope I am not disturbing anything" – Elrond shook his head – "But Alasthin is having great difficulty dropping her foal, and I am inept at such matters."

Sunlight warmed his eyelids and Legolas slowly awoke, slightly relieved to find him self alone though he wondered vaguely where Elrond could have gone. It is of little importance; you have survived your first night here…I wonder how Mithlilien is?

The dim stables that smelled of horse and clean hay were a welcome haven to Legolas' mind as he pushed open one of the vast doors.

Mithlilien greeted his elf, nosing him eagerly and flicking his tail impatiently as Legolas greeted him. Let us see how fast we can go over this new turf, he seemed to say as his rider leapt nimbly onto his back and they took off through the stable doors as the sun peeked over the Misty Mountains.

Legolas had taken his time to ride up to the top of the tallest waterfall, dismounting and peering down in curiosity at this thing of nature that until now had been unknown to him. He resisted the temptation to test his immortality by getting any closer; he was already perilously close, and the light shoes he wore were a breadth away from getting soaked.

Behind him, Mithlilien had a glint in his eye that Legolas did not trust; a push-my-elf-into-the-water glint. Turning and mounting the elf began back toward the house; the sun had long since spread light over the valley and it would not be long before breakfast.

At the table, Erestor surveyed this new comer with a critical eye. If anything, he is very good looking, this Prince of Mirkwood, he thought to himself begrudgingly. Elrond certainly does not seem to withhold his attentions from him either, as we all previously thought he might.

A slug curiously slimed its way over to the long limbs of the elf that sat intrudingly in its garden, the elf unaware of its presence as he bent intently over an arrow which was in two pieces.

Yes, this is an arrow of Mirkwood; oak shaft…Legolas held the fragment from Nadurithin's wound up to the sunlight and turned it over in his finger tips. The feathers are unlike any I have seen…but the arrow head is almost identical to those used in-

The sunlight was blocked out for a split second preceding the thud as Elladan landed heavily on top of Legolas, Elladan's sword clattering away on the tile.

 "Oooooph…" Legolas groaned, face full of dark hair. Some where in the background he could hear what could be Glorfindel laughing.

"Yahhhgh!" Elladan sprang up. "I landed on a slug! No, not you Legolas…oh look, it is dead…yuck…Glorfindel!" The dark haired twin glared indignantly up at the blond Elda who was two stories up on a large terrace, sword in hand. "Falls I do not mind but slugs!" he shuddered, pawing at the spot on the back of his leggings.

"Then you must work on your blocking technique," Glorfindel returned simply though his words were tainted with smugness, and disappeared from view.

After a few moments rummaging around in the foliage Legolas found his arrow, which was now in three pieces instead of two.

"Yes, I am fine," he waved Elladan off, whom after peeling slug off the back side of his leggings, had started an apology. "You did not mean to be thrown off the balcony?" he asked derisively, raising one eyebrow at the disheveled twin.

At this Elladan scowled as he retrieved his weapon. "Indeed I did not. Glorfindel has become simply unbeatable…actually he was always unbeatable but…"

The corners of Legolas' mouth slowly turned up. A new challenge… "Indeed?" Standing he muttered to himself, "Where is my knife?"

Hearing him Elladan let out a short laugh. "You may try, Prince of Mirkwood, but to your own demise. The last time - Elrohir and I took him on together mind you - we ended up in the river and over the falls."

At the mental depiction of the normally dignified sons of Elrond tumbling head over heels in the water Legolas had to suppress a smile. But we shall see how skilled this Glorfindel is…I managed to beat Alindel so long ago, did I not?

"I take it your Legolas can wield a sword?" Erestor sat across from Elrond, the latter of which held a scroll in front of his face. "He is outside with Elladan and Glorfindel last I saw, and his technique is superb."

"I believe Legolas prefers his knife," came the distracted reply. "Glorfindel always had superb technique…no this is not the right one…" Elrond kneeled and started shuffling through another dusty shelf.

"And so word from Thranduil is that the Presence in the south east is growing?" Erestor leaned forward. Will he at least look at me?

"Mmm."

"The prince of Mirkwood is not bound to you yet Elrond?"

"This is the right one…"

"You must bond to him!"

And what would you have me do Erestor? Force myself on him? That would kill him and make Thranduil happy indeed, ha! And your advice is usually so excellent too… "Mmm…did you know that Alasthin's filly is a descendent of Shadowfax?"

Erestor opened his mouth to pry further into what was none of his business when Glorfindel shuffled into the room, followed by Legolas then Elladan.

"… am sure your leg will be fine in a day or two," Legolas was saying, while Elladan looked on with unsuccessfully concealed mirth, one long hand over his mouth to conceal the smirk that the Elda had finally met his match in someone.

A very sullen looking Glorfindel was turning himself in a circle to examine the wound on the back of his upper thigh and having a very difficult time seeing it. With out looking at any one he said to Elrond in an annoyed voice, "Might I seek your counsel in the healing wing?" and turning, flounced off with a very slight limp.

"It was a lucky stroke," Legolas said humbly but his eyes sparkled.

Inwardly Elrond was amused at his friend's expense as well as amazed. This Mirkwood Prince who can best Glorfindel? Glorfindel who has bested…well…everyone? He raised his eyebrows as he started for the door. "There is no luck in battle, only the victors and the slain. I imagine that he will demand a rematch once he has swallowed his pride."

"If he does not choke on it," Elladan leered.

"For your own safety I would not say that in front of Glorfindel." The ever critical Erestor raised one eyebrow at Elladan. "What is that on the back of your leggings?"

Elladan was interrupted when the party that had been sent out to the Misty Mountains returned with the surviving Mirkwood elves, thus distracting the gathering of elves at table. Out of an escort of thirty elves five, counting Nadurithin, had survived the trip to Imladris.

Legolas was glad that he had no strong emotional ties to any of the escort, other than Nadurithin, but his heart burned in indignity at the ruthless slaying of his kin. He readily labored alongside of the healers of Imladris, eager to put his limited knowledge of healing lore to good use as his way of seeking temporary vengeance for what had happened.

Indeed, Legolas said to himself as he attended to a simple arrow wound. These are not orc arrows; these are elvish, and of Mirkwood, from what I can tell. He pursed his lips to keep his look of fear hidden from his patient, lest it be misinterpreted. At the very least they are not poisoned.

After the bandaging and bathing was finished Elrond sat at his desk in dismay, regretfully penning a message to Thranduil, telling him of his son's safe arrival and of the attack on the escort. The dead, he wrote, had been brought to Imladris and would be buried in the valley. He sent no conformation or denial of a bond with Legolas, and the message was promptly sent out by the swiftest carrier.

At the end of the sorrowful day Legolas was making his way to the chambers he and Elrond shared, blood spattered, tired, and sad. He had nearly reached the door when Glorfindel appeared suddenly out of a shadow, placing an insistent hand on his arm and leading him away to a smaller room. Legolas groaned inwardly as Glorfindel shut the door.

"There is an important matter of your safety that I feel must be approached."

Impatiently Legolas opened his mouth to snap, "What?" irritably but shut it again, and said instead with measured calmness, "Very well."

"I was speaking with Elrond this afternoon and as you have already been here one night-"

Legolas pursed his lips together with annoyance. "Please, what is it that you must say?"

With disarming earnestness Glorfindel said, "You must bond with Elrond!"

It was all Legolas could do from whining, "Yes I know!" but he raised his eyebrows expectantly.

"You know as well as I do that if you are not bound and merely a guest this constitutes no protection over Mirkwood or yourself!"

When Glorfindel did not continue Legolas reminded him, "I am promised,"

With a note of suppressed urgency the other responded, "Do not break his heart,"

"What? Why do you say this? He does not-"

"If you think he does not have some stirring of feeling you are a fool." The other said flatly. "Is it because you and he are males?"

Resisting the urge to bury his burning face in his hands Legolas snapped, "What? Well…no. I do not know." That is of no difference to me for I have had no attraction to any…not that I would tell you if I did, Elda. For a moment Legolas narrowed his eyes in thought as he surveyed Glorfindel. "You are not as concerned with my safety as you are with Elrond," he finally concluded, satisfied when a look of resentment and discovery crossed Erestor's face.

"He is one of my dearest and oldest friends; of course I am concerned with him," Glorfindel nearly snapped back. "There is much you do not know; much that has passed -" that is too true, Legolas thought ruefully "-but...oh, I should not be telling you this, after Celebrían and her –"

"I do not wish to hear this from you, of romances past," Legolas said. "If he chooses, Elrond will tell me himself."

"There is much you do not understand. I know my friend, and in his pride there is little he –"

Legolas shook his head. "This conversation is complete. I need to bathe. Good night." The elf half expected the balrog slayer to followed him to his chambers and perhaps even the bathtub to nag, but Erestor stayed in the room simply looking perturbed. What is it with these tedious advisors?

 "How do you find Imladris Legolas?" Elrond greeted the other as he came into the room.

"Given that this is my second bath since my arrival, I say I find it much messier than Mirkwood," Legolas replied as he disappeared through the door that lead to the adjacent chamber. "I find the regular routine of eating and sleeping very different…at home we slept when we wanted to, not every night, and rarely ate together at predestined intervals, save at feasts." Shedding his clothing he tossed it aside and sank gratefully into the hot water.

A brown and white sparrow fluttered in the window, hopping along the edge of the vast tub sunk into the floor, looking longingly at the quantity of water before her.

Legolas paused in his washing, cupping water in his long slender hands and held them before the little bird.

The sparrow cocked her head to one side, hopped onto the finger tips and dipped her beak into the water, tilting her head back to swallow. Then she took her time to leisurely splash about in the obliging makeshift bathtub before shaking herself dry on Legolas' thumb and taking flight through the window again.

Darkness had fallen and Legolas was balanced on the window sill, waiting for Elrond to finish in the bathroom, staring out at the stars. Glorfindel's meddlesome interlude had awakened questions in the back of his mind. I know of Celebrían but who is the "her" that was spoken of? Another lover? Legolas sighed, the sight of night falling over the trees made him think of Mirkwood, prompting a pang of homesickness. I hope Ada is safe.

Returning from his bath to find him thus Elrond said softly, "You worry,"

"I worry about Adar, but it shall pass."

"Do you like Imladris?" he asked for a second time that evening.

Legolas turned and gave Elrond a smile for the first time. "It is not at all like Mirkwood, the home I grew up in, but yes," he replied truthfully. "I do. I grow to like it more every day. The waterfalls, the architecture, the gardens all are very beautiful, and all your people are kind. There would be few who could not find peace here."

Elrond smiled and looked away, the smile not quite reaching his eyes.

Seeing emotion other than calm, cool collection of elf lord for the first time, Legolas pressed, "May I inquire of whom you are thinking?"

Elrond's instinctual response to maintain his exterior was You may not, but meeting the elf's blue eyes he felt his confidence open for the first time to anyone. "Long ago; she did not wish to come to Imladris. I think she ended up marrying another, shortly after Elladan and Elrohir were born. I have not thought of her in a very long time, until you came," he said quietly into the vast expanse of the room. "Before Celebrían."

"Celebrían; Elladan and Elrohir's mother?" Legolas asked boldly, finally having a chance to appease his curiosity. "The one you were bound to?"

"Yes."

Tentatively, the blond elf asked in an even quieter voice, "Did you love her?"

"No, nor did she love me, at least in a wife and husband relationship. We were the best of friends, I, she and Glorfindel, and due to the constrictions of society we were not able to find love with those we…would have been happiest with. Soon after the birth of Elladan and Elrohir, Celebrían began to fade out of sorrow when a lower class elf, a border guard of Lorien, was brutally slain by orcs. They had loved each other. After she was attacked, ironically by orcs, plans were made for her to leave for Valinor but before they could be carried out she was called to Mandos when she reached the Havens." The elf lord's tone was simple, nearly indifferent.

"And what of you?" Legolas asked gently, feelings stirring for the elf lord for the first time. "What of your heart?"

Finally Elrond looked to meet the startling blue eyes of the elf. "You want to know…you have the right to know." He sighed. "Like Celebrían, I was deeply emotionally involved with another." He smiled to himself. "She was a healer; a healer from Greenwood." He smiled again, this time at Legolas. "You remind me much of her, especially when I first met you as you cared for Elrohir. That is what first attracted me to you."

Legolas shifted uneasily at this comparison. And so he does not care for me, but her still.

"After Celebrían and I were bound we agreed to try and forget, and I thought we both had been successful. Some hearts heal, others do not. I healed as I had my sons and much of Imladris to tend."

"I thought by law that you could not unite with another, after Celebrían."

"Word came from the Waiting Halls long ago that her Fëa has no desire to ever return from Mandos for now she is with the one she truly loves. Thus it was ruled long ago that our bond is dissolved. Although I question its existence in the first place, that is not for me to judge." Turning to look at the elf Elrond took a deep breath and said quietly, "I would not force you to bond to me unless you could return my feelings or at least agree to what Celebrían and I agreed on: a friendship that borderlined on love. That would not be a real bond, as I have experienced, but neither of us shall be miserable." His gaze turned gentle with a hint of sadness; reaching out he took Legolas' right hand, and slipped the silver ring from his finger. Elrond set Legolas' ring on the table beside the bed, but kept his own on his hand. "Do you think that will ever be possible, Legolas?" Elrond asked earnestly, reaching out and placing a hand on his shoulder. "If you think it not so then tell me, but know I will not withdraw any aid from Mirkwood regarding your father and the unknown traitor, and I will see to it that you are kept safe as a guest."

"I thought you couldn't do that,"

"It will be more difficult but it is possible, and I simply do not wish to carry hope in my heart in vain for that is bitter and unfair to the both of us."

Legolas now saw Elrond, not the terrifying Elda of the previous night. In the depths of his grey eyes he could see the hurt of one who had given his heart freely, only to have it forbidden, but was strong enough to try to love another again in the face of repeated refusal. Elrond's relaying of the tale of Celebrían made him vulnerable to the prince, and compassion in him reached out to the dark haired elf who looked so intensely into his eyes.

"Why would you do this for me, even if I were to not unite with you?" Legolas walked away from the touch that suddenly made him feel warm all over and slid into bed.

"The thought of Sauron taking control over all of Mirkwood...that would only be the beginning of the end." Elrond gave a shudder. "But I also have come to care for you and would despair in the ruin of Mirkwood, its people, and its royal family." Elrond's eyes suddenly looked downcast as he got in next to the elf. "But if you do not –"

"No, I did not say as much," Legolas said quickly, rolling on his side to look at the Elda. "Bonding now would not kill me, but I have not come to love you in the way that is needed to have a loving relationship…but…I no longer will try to wed to you out of duty alone. You are kind to me and to others, and feelings have arisen instead of the indifference I had when I arrived," he acknowledged softly. "Time will tell if they will blossom, but rest assured that I am not one to lead you on as a cat with a mouse."

For a moment Elrond dared to let hope well in his chest. "Your dealings with my son's sickness drew me to you even before I knew you as Legolas,"

"I am like the Mirkwood healer you speak of, or so you thought that first time."

Reaching out, Elrond ran the back of his fingers along Legolas' cheek, barely visible in the starlight, and reluctantly lowered his hand. "But do not think that I am attracted to you because of her. You are very different; very proud and have nobility unlike any I have seen in a long time but you have dignity and beauty much like her." Elrond smiled to himself. "My heart has long forgotten her though my mind has not. She throws no shadow on my affections for you,"

"I see." He longs for me, Legolas thought incredulously into the darkness, compassion stirring as he remembered the sadness in Elrond's eyes and the gentle hands that soothed his son. Suddenly the impulse to drive away the sadness and to be touched by the gentle hands made Legolas start. "If you…would like to hold me," he peeked up briefly to meet the other's eyes in the dim light and looked away again, feeling almost timid.

"You do not mind?" Elrond asked gently.

"No." Legolas felt a flush seep over his body as the elf lord shifted closer and took him in his arms, cradling his head to his chest. He could not remember the last time he had been held like this and at first it felt foreign, but as he grew sleepy he could not tell if the warmth flowing through his body was his own pulsing blood or the warmth of the Elda's. Perhaps bonding will not be so bad. It is pleasant, I suppose, being held like this, Legolas thought for the first time, feeling his scalp tingle as one of Elrond's long hands stroking gently through his hair and let out a soft sigh of contentment. "It sounds nice,"

"What sounds nice?" Elrond murmured, bliss washing over his spirit at the trust he was gaining from this golden creature of Mirkwood.

"I can hear your heart beating. It sounds nice," Legolas repeated softly.

You have chosen wisely, my little Greenleaf…

From that night on, Legolas willing slept in the same bed as the elf lord. The first morning of waking up gave him a fright as painful memories surfaced briefly, but he was able to hide his fear and control his emotions, and the bad connotations began to fade.

***

"I am sorry, Lord Alindel, but I cannot. I received strict instructions from Lord Elrond to hand it personally to King Thranduil himself. I can make no exceptions, and I will wait until he is finished with whatever he is doing." The messenger from Imladris stood stubbornly, sealed parchment in one fist that was held resolutely to his chest.

For a brief moment Alindel's eyes narrowed in fury, but his tone was indifferent, "Very well."

"I am aware that you have received word from Imladris."

The elf king sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose in defeat. As of late Alindel had been the source of many headaches.

"We have suffered a grave loss, my friend. The escort that took Legolas was attacked and many, many were slain. I have the names of the survivors, but would you be so kind as to see that tactful word reaches those of the families, particularly the ones who have suffered a loss?"

"Certainly. And Legolas; what of your son?" Alindel leaned forward slightly.

Thranduil smiled slightly to himself at the thought of his son. "Legolas is safe." And to me that is all that matters. "Oh, what has come of the group you sent to Lorien?"

"They have returned, though they encountered a group of orcs on the way and were delayed." With those words the advisor left the room quickly, the door latching shut and the sound echoing slightly.

The shadow in the South grows, Thranduil thought grimly. It took my wife but it did not take my son, and it never will.

***

Legolas was emerging from the stables when Elrond appeared around the corner and beckoned, a small smile turning up the corners of his mouth. "Come see this," he said, leading Legolas out to a large pasture at the bottom of the valley where Alasthin and her foal stood grazing with the other horses.

The brisk autumn breeze was dancing across the field, her footsteps revealing in the swirling of the grasses as she raced herself into the distance, gathering up a few colorful leaves before dropping them again to flutter helplessly in her wake.

Elrond stopped, one hand resting on the small of Legolas' back, and put a finger to his lips. "Shh, just watch…"

At the sound of a meow, the foal pricked her ears and trotted over to a clump of red bushes. Two sleek tabby cats slunk out from their hiding places in the base of the bushes and leapt lightly onto the baby horse's back. The foal began to trot around the valley, his mother and the older horses watching him in what looked like amusement.

A young gelding picked him self up and matched pace with the cat burdened animal, and one tabby leapt to the older horse's back. Immediately the two horses stretched their necks out and took off, cats still in tote. Alasthin's filly had her older counter-part outstripped in a matter of seconds.

Legolas was laughing softly, watching the cats clinging to their charger's backs, taken aback at the speed of the foal. "I have never seen feline jockeys before…Alasthin's daughter will be swift and light of foot when she grows older, but do you think the other let her win? What have you decided to name her?"

"Perhaps; that gelding is as even tempered as any I have known but even so…" Elrond began to walk slowly toward Alasthin, where her baby had returned to her side and had her nose in the grass. "What do you think would be fitting for such a quick young thing?"

"Hmm, something to do with the wind, given how quick she is. Elvish?"

The baby horse picked up her head at the sound of approaching voices.

"Yes, you know we are talking about you!"  Reaching the filly Elrond reached to stroke her tiny, velvety nose. "Her mother's name is in elvish, but her great grand sire is Shadowfax, so maybe a name in common tongue would be a nice continuation? Windrunner?"

Spying claw marks on her back and pointing them out Legolas commented, "She is very sweet tempered; she did not even seem to notice much less complain. Look how beautifully she moves…like a melody of voices…Wind-dancer?" Shaking his head the elf rejected his own suggestion. "The d's trip over one another…Windsong?"

"That is pretty; it would fit her well. Windsong it is."

The two elves stood side by side in the cool afternoon breeze, watching Windsong frisk happily in and out of the grown horses around her. Legolas would have been greatly surprised and pleased had he known what Glorfindel, Erestor and the twins knew. Until Windsong, Elrond had named every one of his horses himself.

Glorfindel came striding to the field, jogging quickly up to the two elves. "Ah," he said happily, coming upon the two. "I have been looking for you. There is a visitor from Mirkwood; he will arrive here shortly with his companions, as I have just been informed by the border guards."

"A visitor?" Legolas puzzled. "Not a messenger? Perhaps it is someone come to see those still recovering from the escort."

"No, I was informed that he was KingThranduil's advisor, as well as a few others,"

Legolas stopped short, swallowing a noise of disgust; he had good reason to not think highly of his father's advisor, a friend to Thranduil he may be. Alindel? What would he be doing here?

"Are we prepared to welcome him properly?" Elrond inquired.

"Yes, Erestor is seeing to that,"

Try as he might, Legolas could not disguise the unease that mingled with fear and dread. Something is not right…he has not left Mirkwood in many years. But Glorfindel had him by the arm as a friendly gesture and was leading him toward the gates. The first glance of Alindel sent a shock of fear through his heart; the elf sat astride his white horse with his eyes glittering on Legolas unlike they had for many, many years.

"Hail, Lord Elrond. Prince of Mirkwood; I hope that you have found happiness in Imladris?" the dark haired elf dismounted, bowed to Elrond, and greeted Legolas, who shied away and made a marginally polite return.

"How fares Mirkwood?" Elrond queried as he strode off with the advisor and Legolas made a grateful escape.

"Excellent! That is why I have come, as a matter of fact. Or rather, have been sent by King Thranduil; he has asked me to check on the Prince to see to his happiness in bonding, for he had some anxieties, as any parent would."

Thinking of Elladan and Elrohir Elrond nodded politely in agreement.

Alindel smiled to the elf lord, and had Legolas been there he would have known better than to trust that smile for an instant. "Oh," he said, boldly reaching out to take the Elda's right hand. "I see that you are not bound yet." As I suspected…

"Yes, that is correct. I see no need to hurry such things." At the other's touch Elrond felt a premonition of something he did not trust in this pompous creature. Something is not quite true in this…something I cannot tell. "Would you care to take an evening meal in private with my advisor, Erestor, and Glorfindel?" Elrond's instincts prevented him from spending time alone with this elf. I wonder where Legolas has gone?

With another smile Alindel continued as the four elves sat down to table in a small enclosed garden, "The evil that has prevailed for so long has now dissipated in the last few weeks, and the King now believes it safe for his son to return to him, since you are not bound. That is excellent news is it not?"

"Thranduil sent you to retrieve Legolas when he thought he was bonded?" Glorfindel said dryly. Would he leave? Something is not right with this one, this advisor to the King…but what is it? Elrond can hardly deny Thranduil his child…but…

Still smiling, Alindel gave a small bow. "King Thranduil is familiar with how…willful the young prince can be. He was not sure of how long your joining would take, and had hoped that he could flush the darkness that prevailed before an unnecessary union was made. It seems that he has been successful."

Dinner was infused with mostly Alindel's overly detailed explanation of why King Thranduil had sent him for Legolas, as well as an overly detailed explanation as to why there was no message.

Glorfindel kept looking at Elrond with a peculiar expression and nudging him under the table with his foot, and Erestor ate in distracted silence, with a look of suppressed pleasure playing over his lips.

 "You will let Legolas choose then, to stay or go?" Elrond said quietly, looking into his water glass.

"With your permission, I will depart to speak to the young prince now."

This is not right…it bears further scrutiny; at least they can be persuaded to stay for a few days. Giving a brief nod of acquiescence, the elf lord turned to go to his study, too caught up in his thoughts to notice when a shadowy figure dropped silently out of a tree and slipped after him.

***

Legolas paused at a large mural depicting the Last Alliance of Elves and Men with a dainty, gracefully wrought tray swaddling a large broad sword at the bottom. How much he has lived through, the elf sighed to himself and continued his exploration of this small room which served a good purpose in giving him refuge from Alindel's presence.

Or did it?

As the door opened and closed on silent hinges, Legolas turned to face the one he had been dreading.

"Greetings, young prince," Alindel's voice came silky smooth from the shadow where he stood partially hidden in, one hand on his gleaming sword hilt. "And so we find ourselves again in a small enclosure, very alone, and you very, very unarmed."

"Yes, but it is different this time in that you are infringing on my authority," Legolas met the hated gaze, setting his jaw in fury. If he seeks me out to see me alone, things will most certainly go ill.

The laugh was patronizing. "Your authority? I think not."

"As one bound to the Lord of Imladris, yes, my authority."

Alindel laughed again, sounding truly amused, advancing on the elf and drawing his sword. "I have known you your entire life, young prince. You should know by now that I am aware when you tell the truth…and when you lie. You are not bound to the Lord of Imladris."

Legolas stood his ground, eyes flashing and defiant, angry to the core and wishing dearly for his knives with which he could easily have put the other in his place – he had done it before. "You do not know that, Alindel," Legolas said coldly.

"Sit." Alindel gestured to a padded bench set up against the wall, eyes scintillating.

Legolas complied, backing up against the wall, feeling the point press up under his jaw as the other elf sat opposite him, far too near for comfort.

"Cry out for help and your brain will be skewered." Regarding his discomfort with infuriatingly cool amusement, Alindel continued his explanations. "Now, I know you lie for three reasons. The first being the message Lord Elrond sent to your father made no mention of a bond forged between the two of you. Had there been one I am sure he would have mentioned it."

"You do not know what he would and would not do," snapped Legolas.

"True," Alindel continued in that maddeningly cool tone. "But I have more. Any fool with eyes could see from the interaction between the two of you that you are not bonded."

"What does that mean?"

"Connection, young prince, connection. There is no connection between the two of you; you have few, if any, emotional ties to the Lord of Imladris."

Surely there is no way he could tell by simply watching us, Legolas thought. "Your reasons sound a little thin to me, Alindel."

"Thin or not, I hold the sword, young prince. I have come here tonight to make an end of you."

Legolas raised his eyebrows, looking down the length of the blade to the other.

"Surely you are aware of the growing darkness in Mirkwood. With you out of the way, Thranduil will have no heir to inherit when he dies, which sadly will not be too long from now, handing all of Mirkwood over to the Dark Lord."

"You are, or were, Adar's friend, and should you slay me you will surely bring the wrath of Imladris and Mirkwood upon your head."

Alindel smirked, cruelty rising in his eyes, tracing the blade across Legolas' neck to the other side of his jaw, drawing a thin line of blood. "The enemy of the Dark Lord is no friend of mine, rest assured young prince. And the Lord of Imladris is not bound to you. He will not care when you die of an…accident."

Now would be a good time to lie…again. "I warn you, Alindel, we are bound."

"More lies," the dark haired elf sighed. "But as you will Legolas." Reaching forward with his free hand Alindel slowly lifted the hem of the soft green robe Legolas wore. "You know what I speak of. Did the Lord of Imladris pick up where I left off? You remember young prince."

Legolas did indeed remember, stiffening as the detestable hand breeched the bare skin, and he struggled.

"As I thought, no," Alindel withdrew his fingers. "Pity. I would enjoy taking you now, young prince, but that might provide you with the opportunity to escape or slay me, and I would not have that. The third, and most important, I know you lie because I have spoken to the Lord of Imladris privately, and he has said himself that you are not bound."

"So you would slay me here?" Legolas inquired irritably, and that smile that he knew not to trust spread across the other's features.

"No. You will ride with me from Imladris tonight. Lord Elrond thinks you are leaving for Mirkwood, and he did not seem to care much when I informed him of the fact."

He lies all the time. Defiantly Legolas raised his chin. "You will force me to do no such thing."

"Remember, young prince, I hold the sword. And if we are not gone by this evening, the Peredhil will be slain."

"I do not believe you." More lies…

Alindel raised his eyebrows and sat back slightly, feigning indifferent amusement though malice was still alight in his features. "You do not have to. Know you are putting his life in danger in your refusal. Would you really want that young prince?"

"He is a great warrior."

Practically hissing, Alindel looked intensely to the other's eyes. "But he is often unarmed, young prince. Think of him; sleeping, vulnerable, unsuspecting in this relatively unguarded haven of his, when in through his bed chamber door slips…" he let his words trail off menacingly. "The one to do it is trailing him now and I need only give the signal, but should we go now, the assassin will leave with us. I really should bring him down as that would be of great assistance to Sauron but first things first?"

Legolas felt a flash of fear stab through his heart. There is truth in his words; he would slay Elrond…and again I have no choice…and what of Adar's safety? His heart sank as fear turned to despair and he nearly went limp with defeat. "I will go with you tonight."

Victorious, Alindel smiled cruelly. "Come. Remember I need only give a signal. One warning, one hint of reluctance before we are out of the Valley-"

"I understand." How, oh how will I ever get out of this?

***

"Enter," Elrond called. He was sitting at the window morosely watching evening fall.

One of the elves that had accompanied Thranduil's advisor hesitantly pushed open the door and bowed respectfully, nervous about interacting with this legendary Elda. "Lord Elrond, I was sent by Legolas to retrieve his belongings."

Turning and standing, Elrond furrowed his brow. "Why?"

"Alindel informed me that he is leaving tonight, as the Prince is very eager to return to Mirkwood. They wait at the gate to depart now."

"You are sure of this?"

"I was only sent for the clothes, my lord."

If that is what Legolas wishes… Nonetheless, the elf lord disappeared into the adjoining bedchamber and returned with a soft bundle of clothes and with a heavy heart. "I will take these to the gate myself. I assume that Legolas already has his quiver and knives? I cannot find them."

The other elf bowed. "Alindel, I believe, has them."

Reaching the gate, one of the elves that flanked Alindel dismounted, taking the bundles from Elrond and stowing them on a pack horse.

Under the fading light Legolas sat stiffly in his saddle, mind racing. He was trembling uncontrollably, unable to meet the gaze of the elf lord that stood before him with one long warm hand on his knee. Legolas, warrior though he was, felt his heart longing to reach out and take the offering, to be lead back inside and held in protection until everything that had gone wrong this night fell away in the sands of time. I have never wanted to be held by him this much before…his embrace offers everything - warmth, love, safety - and shortly it will be gone.

"You leave for Mirkwood?"

"I leave for Mirkwood."

Look at me, Elrond pleaded silently, but Alindel spurred his horse forward, slapping Mithlilien on the rump as he passed. Elrond stood for a long time as the golden head faded out of sight in the moonlight, feeling very small and very sad and not like a powerfully dignified elf lord at all. But you are an elf lord, with duties to Imladris. From the beginning you let your injured heart lead you on with foolish hope. You revoked his betrothal yourself and gave him choice to come to you or not…and he did not choose you. He said he would not lead you on and now he will not. Now you must learn to forget.

When they were out of sight of the gates, two riders closed in on either side of the prince till their legs nearly touched.

Legolas did not recognize any of the elves that Alindel had brought with him, but judging by their clothing and tack on their horses he surmised that they were of Mirkwood. Perhaps they are border guards…perhaps we really are going back home. But Alindel still lies; Mirkwood is the other direction…if we are not going to Mirkwood where are we going? If only my knives were not a horse away behind me! If only I had never left…I could have waited in the bedchamber and had I been armed I could have forestalled any assassin! If only…

The party of elves continued on through the moonlight.

"Halt here," Alindel drew his horse up as the left the Valley, just as the glow of the Last Homely House was out of sight, and eyed Legolas. "I would not ride too much further as it would give our clever young prince more time to make his escape, which I am sure he is formulating a plan for right now. Bind his hands and feet, and gag him."

Starting, Legolas had barely anytime to struggle before he found himself stomach down in the cool night grass, with Alindel standing over him. "Leave us, and watch Imladris for followers," he said quietly, eyeing the quandary on the ground before him.

The scent of the grass under his face, usually such a welcome fragrance, now seemed smothering and oppressive as he realized that now he was at the mercy of his captors. Legolas felt the elf throw one leg over, lowering himself to sit on the small of his back and willed his entire body to tense against trembling. He would not give this horrible creature the pleasure of seeing him quail!

"Now," Alindel bent, putting his mouth a breadth away from his ear, pulling out a small indigo vial from the sleeve of his robe. "I am faced with a terrible choice," he murmured, words dripping with malice. "I could use this –" he dangled the vial in front of Legolas' face "- and watch you die a horrible death tonight. Or," Alindel bent in close to the prince's ear, ran his tongue along the edge and hissed, "I could take you tonight, and wait as you slowly faded. Either way you will die."

Throwing away any pretense of bravery Legolas shuddered as cold, unwelcome hands snaked under his tunic, fumbling up his rigid spine. Panic was rising fast in his mind as he struggled to think of a way out of this horrible predicament. Nothing but fear came. I am going to die… Elrond, I need you!

"Of course I could not have done this so many years ago…too young and pretty a thing were you to kill, but now I have good reason, young prince and I have never waited so long for anything."

All of that…all those years…and it comes to this…Father's friend…Legolas' mind was screaming in panic, fear and shame as a slow death came closer and closer with every passing moment, every increasingly insidious stroke of his captor.

"My Lord," came an urgent voice of the guards. "Riders have just left Imladris, headed this way."

Alindel swore. "It seems there is need for haste then. Disappointing but it shall speed things up. Do not fear, young prince…of me at least."

Legolas felt a sharp sting in his right forearm and his senses began to churn before relief could take over. Pain began to rise from the prick in his arm, bearable at first, but rapidly spinning out of control. He bent his mind on keeping control over his body but soon that became impossible as pain unlike any other multiplied, blossoming through out every nerve ending with alarming rapidness. Poison…may Mandos call me now!

Somewhere in the distance came a cool taunt. "Death will come to you, young prince, after a trial. And I will take great satisfaction in watching you die."

***

Hoofbeats faded into the distance, the darkness of the Valley swallowing up the group of elves.

"Very well," Glorfindel's brisk voice came from behind. "Very well and good Lord Elrond. Now. How long should we wait before riding after them?"

How the still serenity of the beautiful night contrasts with the pain in my heart. Turning to go to the privacy of his chambers and taking the silver ring from his finger as he went the elf lord said dryly, "We will not be riding after them."

Raising his eyebrows in surprise, Glorfindel followed. "We will not?" he repeated.

"Legolas chose to return of his own free will, my friend."

"That was not free will in Legolas, Elrond, and you know it. Why you let yourself believe it is I do not know, but we are wasting time. Listen to your heart. Legolas needs you…right now!"

Reaching his bedchamber Elrond picked up Legolas' betrothal ring that sat waiting on the table. My heart hurts too much to listen to. "Would you do me a favor and destroy these?"

Glorfindel smoothly took the rings, set them back on the table, and continued his verbal assault. "Why did Alindel refuse to take back with him the members of the escort? And why was there no message from King Thranduil? I have never known you to be so blind about anything."

"I have a propensity to be blind about love, but thankfully not much else...would you let me take my rest? You are beginning to remind me of Erestor."

"Fine." Turning on his heel Glorfindel stalked from the room in composed determination. "Elladan and Elrohir will be riding out in minutes if you change your mind and decide to join us."

For the first time Elrond felt his temper with his friend starting to fray dangerously. "You would directly disobey me?"

"You will thank me for it later, Elda."

Spent with grief and irritation Elrond threw himself down on the bed, closing his eyes and making an effort to clear his mind for a sleep. Long minutes passed, and Legolas began to tiptoe back into his thoughts. He could almost feel the lithe body beside his own, feel the beat of his heart under his hand, smell the scent of the glorious skin, and the memories made him ache with unshed tears.

"Elrond, I need you!"

It was as if his ill convinced mind had finally begun to obtain the truth. The words echoed in Elrond's head as clearly as if Legolas had been standing in the room and a pang ran through him so sharply that he gasped and sat up. He is in anguish, somewhere. Spurred on by the realization that sparked in his heart, Elrond bolted for the gate, calling for his horse, his sword, and a miracle from the Valar. Oh, he is suffering…! I can feel it!

"We were about to give up on you and ride off."

Stopping short he blinked.

Glorfindel, Elladan and Elrohir sat astride their mounts at the gate with Elrond's stallion waiting beside them. Elrohir held his father's sword.

"We must hurry!" Elrond had jumped on his horse and was fumbling with the buckle even as they took off through the gate into the darkness.

"Poison…may Mandos call me now!"

***

Elladan and Elrohir exchanged terrified glances, reflecting silently to the other what they had just witnessed. One Elda revealed in true power and wrath was enough to keel the bravest, but two…!

Glorfindel stepped out of the gloom looking both satisfied and worried, carrying his own sword in one hand and a great broadsword in the other that left a trail of blood dripping off the channel, mounting quickly. "Elladan, Elrohir, come away!" he called sharply, not looking back. "Leave the dead."

The twins eyes widened further as Elrond quietly strode forward carrying a limp Legolas. "Elladan, there is a small purple vial next to Alindel. Bring it to me, but take care as you handle it. Be sure that Mithlilien follows." The elf lord stepped neatly over the scattered bodies, mounted, and took off into the night, cradling the elf in front of him.

"What is it?" Elrohir wondered as they set off after their father, vial in tote.

"Probably not spider poison," Elladan replied grimly. Soon they were pushing open the all too familiar infirmary door. "I hope Adar knows that he just slew King Thranduil's advisor."

"He does," Elrond replied, his back to them, bent over a basin and Legolas' arm. "He meant to."

Looking up from a mass of flasks Glorfindel motioned. "Bring it here, Elladan."

Doing as he was told, he could not resist asking, "What is it?"

Bottles clanked on the table top and herbal scents began to waft into the air, mingling tension.

"A serum of old, not seen in Middle Earth…it is from Valinor, thus being called the very blood of Morgoth." Glorfindel looked distracted as he squeezed the last remaining drops of the poison into a bottle, and started to add to the mixture from other vials on the table.

Beside him, Elladan felt Elrohir shudder and turn to leave.

"Elrohir," Elrond called quietly. Leaning his head in toward his son Elrond said in a low voice: "Send reinforcements to Mirkwood to ensure the safety of the woodland king…at the very least let them know of the events that have transpired tonight." Noticing Elladan standing in the doorway, head cocked and eyes full of unanswered questions Elrond said gently, "Come in and close the door. It will be a long night with an uncertain outcome, but there is much you can learn."

Elladan took in Legolas, who lay still on his back, eyes open but unseeing.

"How long, Glorfindel?" Elrond asked quietly, removing the basin of dark, thick, clotted blood from under Legolas' arm and setting it aside. Sitting next to the bed he stroked the fine golden hair with his fingertips.

Elladan had never seen his father as such, not even when his mother or Elrohir had been injured.

"Right after this," came the reply. With a tiny swab Glorfindel collected a minute amount of blood from the still un-cleaned broadsword, deposited it into his bottle, put the cap on, and shook vigorously. After a few moments of shaking he removed the cap and replaced it with a tightly fitted top that narrowed to a point, just like the cap of the poison vial. Glorfindel then inserted the point into Legolas' arm, holding the bottle in place and taking a seat across from Elrond.

"And now?" Elladan breathed.

"We wait." Elrond looked up, slightly distracted. "Oh, forgive me Elladan. I have not had a learner in a great many years. The antiserum is simple if you have the original, though it may be hard to compose before it is useless because the most important element is – "

"A token from the poisoner," Elladan broke in.

Glorfindel nodded. "Yes. Lack of identity of the culprit is the main reason why Morgoth's Blood is so deadly. When delivered in stealth, that is to say. But if the antiserum is administered within the hour, chances of recovery are fifty-fifty."

Elladan's eyes flew to the elf on the bed, then to his father. "Only?"

"There is an element of both magic and luck, and prayers to Illuvitar," Elrond said quietly, eyes fixed on Legolas.

"Come," Glorfindel withdrew the drained bottle and lead Elladan to the far end of the room. "This is how you will know to recognize different poisons…"

If you are spared, I will never ask of anything for myself again, Elrond sighed, for the first time daring to drop a kiss on the cool cheek. All I want is this beautiful warrior of Mirkwood to live, not even to have him for myself. The elf lord sighed again, letting the fair hair slip through the fingers of the hand of a lover, with the other hand ever vigilant as a healer, monitoring a faint but persistent pulse in the elf's neck. It will be a long night, but morning will bring an end, either joyful or sad.

Through the night the elf lord kept vigil, stroking the limp hand in his own as Elladan and Glorfindel sat behind him, throwing occasional restless glances his way, to which Elrond was oblivious to. The murmur of teaching in the back blended with the murmur of encouragement and want, as the Elda strained out to touch with his soul the other who was slipping away.

Raising his head wearily from an open book Elladan blinked. He had not realized that he had fallen asleep. Stiffly he arose, noting that little had changed in the sick elf's countenance, and made for the door in hopes of finding something to eat.

"How is he, brother?"

In surprise Elladan looked to a shadow in the corner just outside of the infirmary door. "Time will tell. Would you not care to see for yourself?"

His twin started. "No," he said quickly. "I think I will go with you. Do you think he will pass?"

With a mild shrug that betrayed the situation, Elladan replied, "I know not. Nor does Adar."

He has become a welcome addition to us all, Elrohir said into his twin's mind, using a bond they had shared since birth. I would hate to loose him, and would hate even more for Adar to loose him. I worry for Legolas, but I worry most for Adar. Do not tell me you cannot feel his pull toward that Mirkwood prince.

Patience, all is not lost, Elladan reminded him.

Dawn was beginning to break, spreading thin golden light over the towers of Imladris, when Legolas stirred slightly and closed his eyes to fall into a sleep of warm restful healing, instead of cold death.

"His pulse is strong," Glorfindel said with quiet triumph to Elrond.

"Yes. He will recover." Elrond breathed, daring to let himself relax for the first time all night. And I can ask no more for I am utterly satisfied. "Legolas,"

The elf on the bed groaned.

"Legolas, can you open your eyes?"

With great effort he complied, to find Elrond's tender grey eyes holding his sleepy blue ones. He gave a small smile of satisfaction at the loving gaze before he drifted back to sleep.

Pleased at his recovering rate the elf lord picked up the prince and made his way back to their chambers. Setting him down on the bed Elrond paused to debate briefly before retrieving a sleeping tunic from the closet, and peeling off the pale green robes that the other wore. How breathtaking and warm he is, he thought as he coaxed the light tunic over the other's body. He will recover…

***

When, for the first time in days, Legolas awoke fully the first thing he noticed before he had even opened his eyes was the aching of his entire body. Even his hair seemed to throb. Cracking his eyelids he saw Elrond sitting patiently in a chair drawn to the side of their bed.

Any though of pain left his mind as he took full advantage of the fact that Elrond had not noticed the elf was awake. He has the beauty of starlight in his face, Legolas said to himself, realization at this first thought igniting pleasant warmth from his chest that slowly made its way to his toes. He took in the length of midnight deep hair that gushed in glossy cascades over strong shoulders. Suddenly he felt the urge to touch the hair and skin of this perfect apparition, to see if his flawless skin felt as smooth as he imagined it, to feel if the dark hair was a fine and soft as it appeared. His breath caught in his throat, and at the sound the Elda looked up.

"Legolas," Elrond found himself murmuring before he knew what he was saying as he reached forward and ran his fingertips over Legolas' face, but Legolas smiled, sending shivers of delight down his spine.

"What of Alindel? He is up to no good," he said nearly inaudibly.

Laughing softly, Elrond cupped his face in one long hand. "No, but he is slain."

"You are sure he is gone?" Legolas nearly sat up with a look of wild comfort in his eyes.

 "Shh," Elrond soothed pushing him back down and wondering at this strong reaction. "You must rest; he is gone now. I slew him myself, Legolas."

Relief and incredibility that this being who had plagued him for years was finally spent washed over the elf so strongly tears nearly sprang from his eyes. "Adar?"

"I have sent word to you father in Mirkwood."

"He is safe?"

"I have not heard otherwise."

Legolas looked relieved. "Do you know why I am so skilled with the knives?" Legolas said softly, laying his aching body back down, deciding to take the elf lord into his confidence.

"No."

"I…have never told anyone this…can you hold me as I tell you?"

Your eyes look so pained, Legolas. What could have harmed you so?  "Of course. You can tell me anything." Elrond settled onto the bed, inhaling the scent of his hair and waiting.

The familiarity of the embrace gave him the strength and comfort he needed…even the pain of his body seemed nearly gone. Taking a deep breath, Legolas began. "I have known Alindel all my life, as he has served as an advisor long before I was born, and I knew Adar valued him as a friend as well. When I was very little he was like a playmate, but as I grew older things changed." He paused and sighed, burying his face into Elrond's arm before continuing in a muffled voice.

"I do not remember how old I was but I had not yet come of age; it was shortly after my mother had died. It was the night after a feast, I remember, because I was full and sleepy, and decided to go to bed early. I had been thinking Alindel had been looking at me strangely all of that evening but was too tired to care. I slept soundly, all of that night; too soundly, for when I woke up the next morning I found I had lost my clothes, as had Alindel who had in some strange way found his way into my bed. Funny, as his rooms were on the western wing, while mine were on the east. But I was very young and naïve, and did not think too much of that first incident."

"His arrivals became more frequent and…invasive touching ensued. It terrified me. I knew a full rape would slowly make my spirit fade, but this made me burn angrier and feel more alive than I ever could remember being, but it was a living of perpetual malice that burned in my soul. I hated myself for it, for I thought it made me as bad a person as Alindel." Legolas sighed again and shuddered. "But I was afraid to tell anyone even if he had not forbid me to; he was father's friend, advisor, and I was young. Things were spinning out of hand with his escapades but I was training with bow and knife, growing older, smarter, and stronger. I knew he was a master with the sword, a fact he is – was – very proud of."

"One night after he left I formed an idea of how I could seek revenge. Oh, did I want revenge for the longest time, but this was the first plan that I had managed to conceive that could be carried out. I trained and trained with the knives, a skill that came relatively easy for me though for long years that was all I thought about. Eventually I was confident enough in my skill that I could best him."

"From time to time there would be a large sparring tournament, just for fun, and anyone who wished could participate. Alindel was among the best in Mirkwood, so you can imagine the uproar there was when I challenged him – and only him – to a match and won." Legolas smiled at the memory. "He said it was a stroke of luck, so we had a rematch and I beat him again. The only ones who were not surprised were the ones who had trained me.

"It was a while before Alindel came to bother me again, and when he did…at any rate, I anticipated his moves and told him that if he did not leave me alone, tonight and forever, I would not hesitate in slaying him. He knew that I could and my problems were over, though when I slept I did so with the knives under my pillow for a very long time." Finishing, Legolas shivered, and Elrond held him closer, aching for his pain and trying to comprehend the evil in such a creature.

"You are safe now, Legolas. Does it hurt you anymore?"

"No more, now that I have told someone. I am thankful he is gone and it was you who slew him."

"I am thankful too, for many reasons. Hush; rest now. I will not let go until you wake up."

Snuggling into the warmth of his body Legolas smiled. "There is one more thing."

"Yes?"

"I did not want to go back to Mirkwood."            

"I know."

Legolas yawned. "Adar is safe?" he asked again groggily.

"Yes…rest."

Just as he was about to drift off to sleep, Legolas had a thought. Reaching out to the bedside table he picked up his silver betrothal ring and slid it on his finger.

Slowly the rise and fall of the chest under his hand grew slow and deep, the heartbeat slowing its pace and the muscles relaxing into dreams. Carefully the elf lord slid away from the bed, tucking the blankets in around the long form, let his hand stroke over the silky mass of hair one last time.

Desire had slowly been rising within Elrond ever since Legolas had willing come to his arms that second night. When Elrond was with Celebrían their bodies touched while their souls never had, and that had left a tender hole of un-fulfillment which had rendered any sense of physical pleasure void. Holding Legolas as they slept had given him a very small taste of what true passion would be like, their nights always left him craving for further touch especially as he sensed Legolas growing more and more emotionally tied. He been determined to learn patience from this experience, and patience had flourished, though he could not recall wanting anything more.

But now that what he loved so dearly had nearly been snatched away, Elrond buried his last want and reveled in the simple but fragile breath of life that meant the world to him. No; while I would have bound to him in a heartbeat, he lives, so I could truly want no more but to hold him.

After a few days of bed rest Legolas felt nearly himself. As soon as he was able, he wrote a long letter to his father concerning why he would not be seeing Alindel and five other Mirkwood elves, but said little of his affiliation with Lord Elrond, except to state that there was no bond yet. I hope he is not disappointed.

Late in the morning Elrond swept into the bedchamber. "The elves of your escort are prepared to depart. Given the recent trouble they are anxious to return home."

Legolas looked up quickly. "Where are they? I have a message for Adar."

"They wait at the gate. I thought you would like to say farewell, but did not think of it until they were mounted." Elrond hesitated before admitting, "I would not have you get out of bed otherwise."

I am not going to shatter, or fall down dead, Legolas thought to himself as he made his way to say good bye to the procession with Glorfindel and Elrond hovering a few steps behind him. He did not miss the anxious glances they would share, before turning in unison to stare intensely at the back of his head.

Reaching out his hand, Nadurithin took the scroll bearing the seal of Imladris. "I will give this to your father myself," he assured Legolas, looking down from his perch atop his mount. For a brief moment he wondered if the prince regretted the fact that he was staying in Imladris to be trapped by political maneuverings. Nadurithin glanced quickly at Lord Elrond who stood closely behind the fair elf, and at the way he reached out to receive Legolas as he stepped backward, the Mirkwood messenger did not fear for the Legolas' happiness any longer.

With a final wave of farewell, the six Mirkwood elves rode off through the gate, beginning of their journey home.

***

"He grows strong once more," Glorfindel joined Lord Elrond on the balcony, nodding to Legolas who was being soundly beaten in swordplay by Elladan in the court yard below while Elrohir looked on with a cocky grin. "But if this continues, he may loose his arm, which will not return."

Watching as his son helped the other to his feet and brushed the dust off of his clothes, Elrond merely replied, "Yes."

Legolas had now cast away the sword that the twins had implored him to try, picked up his knife, and Elladan groaned, audible even from where the elder elves stood.

"What would you have done with the bodies of the Mirkwood visitors? Bury them beside those slain from the escort?"

Elrond shuddered, remembering all that Legolas had told him of his encounter with Alindel before he was forced from Imladris. "No. My heart tells me that should we do so we would lay the murders beside their victims. Bury them outside of Imladris, perhaps the borders of Dol Guldur. If it is too dangerous to travel there, burn the bodies and scatter the ashes to the winds. They are not elves any longer…they were corrupted by the Dark Lord and abandoned the Firstborn long ago. Have those that tend to them look upon and handle them as little as they may."

Glorfindel gave a surreptitious glance at the other, who was watching the action with a hint of a smile playing on his lips. "Are you happy, my friend?"

The smile that had been threatening to burst through blossomed on the elf lord's lips. "You never, ever relent, do you Lord Glorfindel?"

With a failed look of innocence Glorfindel raised his hands. "I know not of what you speak."

"You are better than Erestor, I will give you that my friend, but you are determined and always –"

"If you are still referring to that incident with Celebrían –"

"The incident that ended up back firing –"

"The incident that worked out for the best –"

"I suppose, but what fool ever came up with the ridiculous premise of love at first sight?" Elrond was laughing openly at the blond Elda's expense. "I believe it is still in the record books and songs as love at first glance on my part."

"I know! I put it there!"

"It was entirely misinterpreted by all." Elrond was shaking his head and laughing at the memories of the ridiculous events surrounding his first betrothal.

"Yes, and it worked out as I intended. Better so than your intentions for Thranduil would have had your head had you managed to win the heart of his sister." Glorfindel gestured down to Legolas, who had introduced Elladan to new levels of humility and was currently chasing after Elrohir, who was running. "You have a weakness for wood elves, I think. Ah, the irony of life."

"Miserable, scheming elf," Elrond stopped his charade and smiled genuinely at his friend. "Though it would seem that all may work out for the best."

***

Looking up from his book, Legolas saw Glorfindel holding out a scroll to him. "This arrived to for you today from Mirkwood,"

"Thank you," Legolas unrolled the message, recognizing his father's handwriting. "It is a response to my message sent a month and a half ago. I wonder why it took him so long to reply."

"The first messenger was ambushed by a posse of squirrels."

"Oh."

"I hope your father is safe?" Glorfindel asked quickly as the other's eyes roamed down the length.

"Oh yes; the evil that has been building for years in Northern Mirkwood has seen a bit of a drop off. Alindel was not the only one in Mirkwood serving the Dark Lord, and Adar is not sure of his and my safety should I return, though he is probably much safer with Alindel gone than he was before. Sauron seems to have his eye on Northern Mirkwood, as he could make good use of it had he the opportunity." Legolas gave a small, confident smile that was almost a prideful smirk. "But he will not have the chance."

Glorfindel sat down next to the elf and nodded to the silver band on his finger. "As you are not bound, will you return to your home?"

"If I so desired I could this time. I do miss my home, but I have come to like Imladris very much. Besides," Legolas shrugged, seemingly nonchalant. "Why bother? Why risk another journey?"

The blond Elda smirked knowingly. "I think that is not the only reason you stay." Glorfindel had not missed the long glances that Legolas had returned to the elf lord.

"I think you are right."

"I think it amusing when you blush," he teased, and left the room as Legolas blushed further, bumping shoulders with Elrond as he entered.

"Legolas, there you are. You have heard from your father?"

Making an effort to cool his face the elf looked up. "Yes. All is well in Mirkwood. He did not say much else."

"I am glad all is well."

***

Leaning forward to drink in the night air that streamed past his face he rejoiced in this expedition, synchronizing his heartbeat with the rhythm of Mithlilien's canter, interested to explore the nocturnal beauty of the valley.

The horse fought the direction he was being given – he had always had a will of his own – and Legolas gave him his head and the two turned in direction of the river.

Just exactly where are you taking us, Horse? The elf thought as they picked up speed.

Whether it was intentional or Mithlilien did not know where he was running into, the horse took a flying leap off the river bank much to the rider's distress…and landed with a stinging cold shock into the deepest part of the River Bruinen.

Tumbling into the water in astonishment, Legolas bobbed his head above the surface of the water, spying Mithlilien fighting the current and paddling around in a confused circle before the mount decided to go back the way he had come. The elf followed, wondering how he would deal with this dousing once he got to shore, reluctant to ride back in uncomfortably wet clothes astride an uncomfortable wet horse.

"Wretched animal," Legolas groaned, slapping the gelding's rump as the horse scrambled onto the bank ahead of him, half laughing half disgusted. He wrung out his hair which had managed to become unbraided, and threw an aggravated look at Mithlilien who was now grazing indifferently a few yards away. I swear he laughs at me.

"I think that horse knew exactly what he was doing," came a familiar voice behind him.

Turning, Legolas saw Lord Elrond astride a large black stallion, which was looking perfectly behaved in the moonlight. I shall have Mithlilien take a lesson or two from that one.  "You seem to be making a habit of following me,"

"Do you mind?" Elrond asked as he dismounted.

"No," Legolas admitted as the other came and stood by him so close he could feel the warmth of Elrond's body seeping through his wet clothes. "I think I like it," he added.

Reaching out, the elf lord caught up a lock of soaking hair turned a shade darker in dampness, watching a drop of water slowly roll off of the tip and make its way to his wrist. "Put this on," Elrond pulled off his heavy outer robe. "You must be clammy in those sopping clothes."

Waving a hand in protest Legolas said, "I would only saturate your attire as well."

Elrond leaned his face into one dripping ear and whispered, "Then you must undress. I will turn my back." Pulling away and turning as promised, he smiled, "Glorfindel was correct."

"In what respect?"

"You blush prettily." Instead of flushing further Legolas rolled his eyes and laughed, an intoxicating sound to the Elda's ears.

Legolas clutched the robe around him, still warm against his bare skin from the other's body. It smells like him, he inhaled, a shiver of delight rush up his spine which made him tremble, and felt Elrond's long arms encircle him, drawing him close. Gratefully Legolas leaned into the hot body, and gave a soft sight of contentment.

Feeling the supple figure melting so willingly into his own Elrond dared to bring his face close to the graceful arch of the other's neck, drawing in the scent of his warm, wet skin then slowly exhaling hot breath through pursed lips, watching the beads of water race down into the obscurity of his robe. At the feel of this Legolas practically purred, leaning his wet head back on the elf lord's shoulder and Elrond felt a pang of desire go through him so intensely he nearly winced.

For the first time Legolas sensed a longing to be touched intimately rising within him. And so perhaps I become ready to bond; the circle is complete, Legolas thought. First I was drawn to the kindness of his soul, then his beauty, and now the offerings of his body. Tentatively, he reached up one hand to a lock of dark hair that lay beside his cheek. It is as spun silk…

Elrond sensed Legolas' fingertips first inquire over his hair, carefully make their way up to his ear, running one fingertip around the edge and trailing down to the soft skin of his throat. It was almost more than he could bear. The first time he has willingly touched me as such,

Raising his stare to the elf lord's face, Legolas was now so close he could see the dark grey iris flecked with silver, sense the flutter of every exhale on his lips, aware of the hand that was stroking through his mass of wet hair had stopped to cradled the nape of his neck. Slowly, he sensed rather than felt the warm mouth tenderly touch his own for an all too brief moment. The younger elf could sense a change in the elf lord as he stepped back, Elrond cupping his face in his long slender hands, his grey eyes becoming thoughtful and pensive.

"Legolas, there is something I must tell you; something we must discuss. Even though I know we are not bonded, we will want time to think about it."

"Anything."

With his usual directness Elrond began. "Long ago the Valar ruled that male male relationships would be able to bring forth children. Only one of the partners would carry the child and give birth – the decision is to be made at the time of the bonding and it is irrevocable. There is a great price of much increased pain." Elrond paused slightly. "I would be the one to take this responsibility for us, as you are a warrior and childbearing would affect your speed and agility, even long after the children have come of age."

Frowning, Legolas shook his head vigorously. "You are a warrior as well,"

"But I am also a healer and would therefore only go to battle in the greatest of need."

"You are the ruler of Imladris and must be able to defend your realm to the best of your capability, and besides you have everyday duties to attend to. I am already supple and swift, my duties are not as urgent as yours, and would accept this burden if only to spare you the pain." Legolas saw the elf lord opening his mouth to object, and put a finger to his lips. "Please. Please let me be the one intended to bear children." His words were begging but his tone was insistent. "If you are there to hold me anything will be endurable. Will you agree?"

"But I do not want you to bear the pain," Elrond protested weakly, the sight of the earnest blue eyes rendering his resolution useless. If we disagree again, I will have to ask him to put those away or he will win every argument.

"Please, agree,"

After a long pause Elrond said slowly, "I agree."

Smiling and snuggling his head to his chest, Legolas murmured, "Thank you."

"Come," Elrond whispered. "Let us go and get you warm,"

Legolas already felt plenty warm but did not protest, the gentle kiss echoing in his dazed mind, still reliving the feel of the softness on his own. He began to find himself longing to be held and caressed and whispered to kindly as the familiar hands stroked the length of his hair.

Night became a paradise for Legolas, being rocked by the rise and fall of the chest and lulled by the murmur of the heart within. He was free to touch and wonder over the being that lay beside him though he dared to do so only after Elrond had fallen asleep. He would spend long nights marveling at the powerful elf lord, the founder of Imladris, a leader who had commanded armies who now lay sleeping in the same bed. It made Legolas feel both very small and very awed that such a figure could come to care for him.

***

Snow fell soundlessly from the heavens, dusting Imladris in a light glaze of white.

Remembering the sparrow that had come to bathe, Legolas had occupied himself by carving a vast stone basin in one of the gardens, arranging it over a small fire to keep the quantity of water it held from freezing. He had finished his creation and was sitting on a branch surveying his work with satisfaction when Elrond came across him, fresh falling snow collecting on his head and eyelashes. "For the birds," Legolas explained. "I like birds,"

"Yes, but you will turn into an elfsicle in this cold," Elrond said affectionately as Legolas alighted from his perch to sit next to him.

"That is the human part of you speaking, Peredhil." Boldly Legolas moved over and lay his head down into the other's lap, staring up at the sky from which scraps of fragile fluff drifted to the earth. Remembering the little brown sparrow that had sung to him from the autumn he began to sing into the peacefully falling snow.

At length a flock of happily chirping birds discovered this gift of water in the midst of winter freeze, drawn by the lilting voice of the golden elf, falling to splashing and singing along with him.

The birds were not the only creatures drawn to the song. Elrond sat quietly, not hearing anything except the voice of Legolas pouring over his soul, seeing the luminous face which made even the vast amounts of unadulterated snow seem dim and dirty.

Legolas did not miss the look of ardor in the elf lord's eyes and his heart rose with jubilation, sweetening the song from his throat as only love can.

That night, Elrond found Legolas standing at the window, looking out at the stars and the still falling snow with his right hand clenched to his chest.

Sensing his presence, Legolas said softly, "Lord Elrond," and the elf lord went quietly to stand by him at the window as he was bid. Turning and opening his hand he revealed a simple gold band sitting on his palm Legolas murmured delicately, "I am ready to bond to you."

"You are confident of this?" Elrond felt his breath catch and his heart skip a beat.

"I am certain. I am ready tonight."

"Wait here." Elrond returned from his desk with an identical gold band. "Though would you not rather celebrate traditionally with your father and those you love?"

Legolas smiled slightly. "I would rather keep it simple and private, like the Elda did in the days of wandering and trouble, even though we are not."

"If that is what you wish I do not mind."

"Thank you." He took the other's right hand and slid off the silver band, offering his own and Elrond did the same. Gently Legolas paused and stroked his fingertips over the elegant hand he held before sliding the gold band in place of the silver.

Elrond slipped his gold ring over the prince's first finger and smiled. He took the blond elf in his arms, untied the end of one braid and combed his fingers down the length, a gesture he would grow accustomed to in the nights to follow.

*** Part Two ***

 "Legolas, this one is yours…there, behind the tree!"

The hiss of an arrow speeding from a bow penetrated the still silence of the valley, followed by a thunk as it hit its target and the stag fell dead before it had a chance to run.

"What a shot!" Elladan grinned and clapped the archer on the back. "I did not think you could kill so cleanly at that distance."

Neither did I. Grinning weakly, Legolas swiped his sweaty hands on his leggings, hoping that no one could see the way they were shaking. In truth, he did not feel well at all and his right forearm ached badly. In truth, he did not want to be hunting. In truth, he wanted to be at home, curled up, and asleep. Making an effort to keep a tremor out of his voice he said, "I think two is enough for today; we do not wish to clear out the forest entirely."

"I agree, especially if we wish to get this one cleaned and ready to be prepared by this evenings meal," Erestor nodded to the sun's position and clicked to his horse and started to trot toward the fallen prey. "Besides, I do not think we would be able to carry more than two of these."

The hunting party, with their bounty, spurred the horses onward and cantered down into the lush greenness of the valley toward the graceful beauty of the Last Homely House, glowing in the noon sun.

"Your father is due to arrive any time now?" Elrohir turned to Legolas as the scenery rushed by.

"Yes, today actually." For the first time the rocking of the one-two-three beat of Mithlilien's canter was making his head hurt and his stomach churn. He rubbed his forearm unconsciously, not feeling much like conversation; the warmth of the sun draw out the fragrance of the grasses and the flowers and Legolas was beginning to find this perpetual scent almost unbearable.

Once arrived home, the gathering had seen to their horses and proceeded to slaughter the two stags that had been brought down.

Hanging back and taking his time in his grey gelding's care, Legolas went back to the stall door to bid his horse good bye. Yes, you know. You always know. He leaned his forehead against the grey forelock and the horse whickered, stamping one front hoof.

The horse pulled his head back, whickered again and nuzzled his nose into his elf's face and blew, earning a snicker from the other, and Mithlilien nosed him playfully in the stomach.

"Easy, easy," Legolas laughed, stepping away. Ah, that animal will be the end of me. He walked out of the dimness of the stable to the bright June sunlight. The wind, he noted, carried the faint metallic tint of blood; indeed the prey was being butchered not far from the stable door.

Glorfindel was heading past him, a long boning knife in one slender hand. "Do you wish to join us?"

Looking from the gory scene to the golden haired elf in front of him, Legolas shook his head, feeling suddenly nauseous. Funny, cleanings had always been routine after hunting. "Not today, I think." He shook his head, not wishing to elaborate.

"You look a little wan, my friend." Glorfindel smiled slightly. "But nothing that time and rest will not cure." He was one of the most skilled at reading hearts and emotions; between him and Elrond they knew most of the goings on of Imladris simply by sitting at the table during meals and watching faces.

"Ah, yes."

Gratefully reaching the seclusion of his chambers, Legolas threw aside his quiver and cast himself on the bed. I hope it will not be this way until May…that is a long time from now. Legolas could just feel his mind going fuzzy and his eyelids close in sleep when –

"Legolas?"

He turned over on his side and moaned. I just want to sleep!

Elrond made his way to the bed and sat down on the edge, reaching out and putting one hand on his shoulder. "Your father has just arrived. He is waiting down in the Hall. You look like you feel terrible."

"No, just tired." Legolas rolled back over to face the elf lord and smiled up at him. "I will be glad to see Adar again."

"I know he is eager to see you. I will bring him up to the outer chamber; you look exhausted." He put one elegant hand on Legolas' flat stomach, and bent down and gave him a quick kiss on his forehead. "How is your arm? Does it still pain you?"

Slowly Legolas made his way from the bed to the sitting room that joined the passage hall and the bedroom. "I think only because I am tired. We brought home two stags; large ones."

"Elladan told me of your excellent kill."

"I learned from the best." Legolas smiled as Elrond left the room. He leaned his head on the back of the couch and closed his eyes, smoothing his hands over his abdomen. I have not seen Adar since I left to form an alliance…how long ago that was, and what an "alliance" it has become!

The sound of soft footfalls caused him to perk his head up. "Adar!" He cried happily, standing as Thranduil came through the door.

"My Greenleaf," he returned, striding forward and embracing him warmly. Pulling back he held his son at arm's length, surveying him up and down. "Though I do not suppose you are really my Greenleaf any longer. How much wiser you look. We have all missed you very much,"

"Oh, I have missed Mirkwood as well. But I like Imladris; come, let me show you the gardens,"

"Are you sure Legolas? Lord Elrond said that you were a little tired -"

With a gesture learned from Elladan, Legolas dismissed his concerns with a wave of his hand. "I shall be fine. The most beautiful is the waterfalls; come see. Have you ever seen them?"

For a moment a shadow crossed his face at the remembrance of the battle before the Watchful Peace. "Long ago. But," he said quickly, "I would love to see them with you again."

The sound of the rushing water had come to be a great source of comfort to Legolas; he could sit for hours, watching the falls tumble down one another in their feeding of the River Brunien, watching the rainbows arching up from the mist. The white cascade was set up against a black back drop of stone, around which grew lush greenery; the overall effect mingled with the sounds of the falls and the smell of the water was intoxicating.

Leading his father up to the closest one Legolas leaned into the mist, and Thranduil followed suit, laughing as the cool spray dampened the both of them. "Standing at the top of the tallest one," Legolas pointed, "Is my favorite. Mithlilien and I will often ride up there."

"Would you feel up to walking there? So you are riding that old gelding still? He was but five when you departed. Surely there must be another horse; with you there was always another horse waiting in the wings." Thranduil smiled. "You have always loved horses."

"He is only thirty," Legolas protested. "He is not so old yet. But," he admitted, "There are other horses; some are descendants of Shadowfax; they are beautiful to behold! I will show you them later; I have not been training much as of late."

Thranduil turned and looked at his son. His blue eyes are so much like my own, yet there is much of his mother somewhere in the depths of his soul. "You are happy here, my Greenleaf," he stated quietly, barely audible over the dash of the water.

"Yes, Adar," Legolas said with all his heart. "I am very, very happy."

Suddenly struck with a thought Thranduil took on of his son's long hands in his own and fumbled in the pocket of his tunic with another, finding two small objects and dropping them in Legolas' palm. "From Mirkwood. I would have brought saplings, but I knew you would enjoy tending these."

Legolas smiled broadly; in his hand were an acorn and a beech seed.

When night fell Legolas was very grateful to have an excuse to be able to lie down in bed to catch some sleep. He was especially pleased to see his father again and to hear the news of Mirkwood, but his body seemed to protest the taxation of the day's excitement.

Moving over, Elrond embracing Legolas as was their nightly custom, feeling the elf sigh and relax into the familiar curve of his body. "Did you tell your Adar?"

Sleepily Legolas shook his head. "Not yet."

***

"Mithrandir!" Elrond exclaimed. "Welcome! What brings you to Imladris? Please, come in and sit."

The wizard smiled, doing as his host bid him but his eyes remained troubled. "I have come to request refuge," Mithrandir paused slightly. "For a mother and her as of yet unborn son; it would seem that difficulty has befallen the father and it is no longer suitable to provide for them." Seeing the elf lord open his mouth the Istari raised his hand. "Do not question them yet, or myself. I have my suspicions but will tell you when the time comes. I must depart; there is a creature that requires my immediate attention."

Elrond would have liked very much to know further details of this mysterious new arrival but swallowed his questions and said instead, "Very well, Mithrandir. What is the name of this mother to be?"

The wizard paused slightly, eyebrows knitting in thought. "Gilraen, I believe."

***

"Legolas Greenleaf!" Elrond came dashing out of the house over the chill hardened path to where the elf was curled up in the partially dormant garden, appearing to be sleeping despite the bitter chill on the February wind. "Legolas!" Elrond bent over, shaking his shoulder gently until the elf opened his eyes and looked up at him.

Yawning, Legolas rolled over and sat up slowly. "Your mouth is hanging open,"

Ignoring his observation, Elrond continued, "I believe you have the capacity to sleep in a snow bank, Legolas!" the elf lord quickly pulled him to his feet and led him inside, one hand protectively over a very round and pregnant stomach.

"I do have the capacity, and as of late," Legolas said dryly, "I have had the penchant to sleep absolutely anywhere and everywhere. I do not feel the cold and it was so pretty outside...I like snow." He frowned to meet Elrond's expression of exasperation mixed with concern as he brushed the bits of dead leaves and grass from the elf.

"I know." Elrond did not care for snow.

"And I thank you for your gift of the one snow fall in…a long time."

"Yes, but your body is different; your center of gravity has changed, so for example when you were balance walking the peak of the stable roof to get that kitten--"

"Its mother needed it, Elrond,"

"You fell asleep out there again?" Elladan, who was wandering by, was watching them in amusement.

"There was another time?" Elrond was beginning to look very put out.

"But I am on my way to a proper bed now," Legolas waved him off.

"Legolas Greenleaf," Elrond chided as he curled up next to the figure. "I cannot wait till this child is born; you are one fit of anxiety after another." He felt the other shiver in pleasure and contentment as he unbraided the length of blond hair and ran his hand through it

Indulgently the elf kissed the elf lord's hand, which he had held clasped against his stomach. "You are the only one with anxiety. It will be all over in three months."

"Erestor saw you up that beech tree and nearly had a stroke, and when Glorfindel told me about what you were doing at the top of that waterfall –"

Legolas rolled his eyes. "I seem to have spies all around me."

The elf lord's tone turned soft and insistent. "Legolas, please. I care about you too much to see you and the baby get hurt…please will you promise me you will keep both feet on the ground, except when riding, and only to ride Mithlilien?"

Legolas sighed, but was ready to comply. No more colts then.

"You have been riding colts?" This time Elrond sighed. "And no more sleeping outside in the cold?"

With some difficulty, Legolas turned on his other side to face Elrond and kissed him gently. "If it will make you happy and ease your peace of mind I will do so, for you."

***

"He is named Aragorn, son of Arathorn?" Glorfindel looked up sharply to Elrond, who had just left the small chamber where Gilraen had just given birth. "He is…then…by the way, what has become of Arathorn?" Glorfindel's eyes narrowed worriedly "Has Mithrandir told you of what has become of this new child's father?"

"Yes, he is dead." Elrond said flatly. "I received word from Mithrandir only yesterday and have yet to tell Gilraen."

"How?"

"Strangled, on the banks of the Loudwater. It is strange; he was alone in the woods, became separated from the Rangers somehow, and the only thing that was taken was a chain around his neck with his wedding band on it; the Rangers said it was very precious to him though he kept it inside his clothes. Everything else was untouched." Elrond frowned to himself, turning to look to the Misty Mountains. And my heart bids me that this is a strike against the freedom of Middle Earth; the Dark Lord is gaining power.

***

Snow was melting into the River Bruinen until it was swollen and rushing quickly through the melting valley, the sharp scent of winter still in the air but with a hint of spring on the morning breeze.

From his reclining place on the floor Legolas drank in the coolness of fading winter, pausing in his work to look out the window for the first signs of green. "Before long my baby trees will be ready to move out of doors," he nodded to the young oak and beech trees that were nestled in their small pots, visible through the bedchamber door in the sitting room.

Removing a nail from his mouth Elrohir agreed, "They have flourished well during the winter under your excellent care." He looked up and smiled. "As have other things. How much longer?"

Legolas smiled to himself, setting down his mallet and putting one hand on his round, heavy belly. "Six weeks exactly to the Day of Begetting. There. I am done with this side; all we need to do now is hang it from its frame,"

"Alright, just slip the ends in and hook it…"

"Perfect." With great effort Legolas rose, unwrapping a package and spreading its contents into their accomplishment. "A gift from my father, and the elves of Mirkwood," he explained, and the two elves stepped back, surveying their work with satisfaction.

Swirls of leaves and runes circled slowly up the two slender posts from which the elegant leaf shaped cradle hung, swaying gently at the slightest touch. Nestled inside was a soft, deep green cushion, the silver designs visible through the slender, interwoven sides of the cradle. On top and spilling over the side was a blanket of many shades of white and ivory, texture ranging from the downiness of angora to coolness of white silk, decorated with tiny colorless gemstones which caught the light and sparkled like drops of dew.

Reaching out with one hand and a far away look in his eyes Legolas said softly, "My mother made this blanket, many years ago, but it was never used. She and Adar never had anymore children after myself." Easing himself onto the large bed and lying down, he sighed and closed his eyes. His body was tired; it was not used to carrying and nurturing such a large burden.

Perching on the edge of the bed Elrohir asked quietly, "What happened to your Naneth?"

Legolas' mouth twitched, eyes still closed. "When shadows began to invade Greenwood, she and I went to investigate… but we – no one – knew that the Dark Lord had fled there. Out of the party that went into the heart of Southern Mirkwood only two of us returned; myself and Alindel. I was very young; I do not remember much. But I know she is in Mandos…perhaps her feä will return to a hrondo or perhaps not. Adar still loves her very much." Legolas had chosen to not disclose many details of this painful memory, leaving Elrohir to fill in as much as his mind was wont. Opening his eyes and rolling over to face the twin Legolas asked, "Does it trouble you?"

Elrohir lay down next to the golden haired elf. "Does what trouble me?"

Legolas looked a little apprehensive, as if he were about to ask a question to which he was not sure he wanted to know the answer to. "Me…your father. I am not your mother. I think of Fëanor."

The other sighed quietly. "As soon as we had passed thirty, Naneth could sense no need for her to stay and began to fade though she loved us, and we loved her. She needed Mandos; a hrondo was not for her, and so Naneth is at peace. But Adar was so…sad. Disappointed. Helpless. There was nothing between the two of them other than friendship; as young as we were even we could feel it, though we were not spared a happy child hood because of it." Elrohir smiled a rare, real smile that usually only Elladan saw. "Now that you are here he is happier than I have seen him…ever; he is complete. So Elladan and I do not resent you in any way, and we are joyful at what is to be."

At the shine in Elrohir's face Legolas could not doubt the sincerity in his words. Feeling a familiar touch on his shoulder Legolas turned his head to see Elrond as he joined them on the bedspread.

"Did you know," Elrond said to Legolas as he leaned into his familiar body, "That when your father's proposal first arrived it was offered to Elrohir or Elladan?"

"Indeed? I did not find out about any offer until word came that you had accepted,"

Elrohir nodded. "Neither of us would have any of it, though not because of any prejudice we have for the elves of Mirkwood. So we suggested that Adar accept." He paused, turning his head slightly to the open door. "I will leave you; Elladan is calling me,"

"That is a small illustration of why it would have been impossible for Elladan or Elrohir to have even attempted to bond to you," Elrond smiled to himself as his son made a graceful exit from the room. "You and I do not hear anything, but they have always had connection from the time they were born. Much like the connection one has with the other they are bonded to."

***

The sun was high in the sky, radiating warmth onto the Valley below, making the splashing of the waterfall mist sparkle like so many diamonds as fell into the river to continue on its journey. Flowers had long since begun to bloom in the gardens of Imladris, sending forth a plethora of aromas that mingled into the open house.

The two seeds had flourished under his care during the winter, harbored safe inside, and now stood just below his knee, their pale green translucent leaves stretching into the sunlight. With great difficulty and a good deal of help, Legolas had removed his two beloved baby trees from their pots and planted them in the Valley, the oak down by the river and the beech outside the window of the bath.

Stretched out on the green grass beside the baby beech, Legolas and Elrond lay luxuriating in the sun's rays, Elrond stroking up and down the round belly beside him, a far away look in his eyes. "You will not be long now, Legolas." Today is the Day of Begetting.

"Hmm, how could I forget?" He laid his head back on the grass and smiled, closing his eyes as he thought of the recently flurry of preparations.  "All is in hand. I am glad for the burst of energy the last few weeks have seen."

"Glorfindel has offered to help deliver."

I would like to keep this to myself and you if possible. "Unless you would want assistance?"

"I can manage; he will stand by nonetheless, but not in the room if you want."

Leaning his head into his chest Legolas smiled. "Thank you."

A dainty brown sparrow fluttered to the small beech tree, attempted to perch at the top and discovered that the slender thing would not hold even her slight weight, bow bending and depositing her unceremoniously on the ground. Indignantly she hopped over to the two reclining figures, first starting at the tip of Legolas' shoe and bounding up the length of his body until she was poised on the fullest part of his belly, and was satisfied that she would not be rejected from this roost. Boldly she stayed, singing and fluttering her wings slightly as the two elves watched in amused wonderment at this little scrap of feathers with life and song pulsing so vividly through her.

As evening fell on the Day of Begetting, Legolas was leaving the Hall of Fire when a labor pain first hit him. It started slowly, a dull, nearly unnoticeable ache that gradually sharpened in intensity until he gasped and put one hand to his stomach. Suddenly he realized he had stopped short and was surrounded by Elrond, Glorfindel, Erestor, Elladan and Elrohir, all of whom wore identical looks of anticipation and alarm. "Well," he said with a hint of a smile. "Your wait will be over shortly! No," he said to Elrond who had started to make an effort to pick him up, "I will walk."

Knowing better than to argue, Elrond accompanied Legolas to the chambers they shared, Legolas and Elrond leading the way with Glorfindel, Elladan and Elrohir trailing behind like so many ducklings. Glorfindel, Elladan, and Elrohir had all congregated in the sitting room outside and pretended to be occupied with books. "Let me know," Glorfindel caught Elrond's elbow as he went past.

"Of course I will…you do know, Elrohir, that you are holding your book upside down?"

"I have already learned how to read," Elrohir replied sincerely. "So now I am providing myself with a new challenge; I am getting quite fast."

Elladan interjected with a simper, "He lies."

Rolling his eyes at his sons, the elf lord disappeared into the inner chamber and closed the door.  And now there will be more of them. Turning to the elf as he got to the bed, he asked gently, "What can I do? Does it hurt badly?"

Turning over onto his back, Legolas simply responded, "Just hold me. All we can do is wait."

Elrond obliged, cupping both hands around the abdomen, feeling contractions come, peak, and lessen off, listening to the breathing of the elf on top of him bearing his pain silently as evening faded into night. Realization washed over him…somehow this perfect and round creature was going to beget them a son or daughter probably by the end of this night. Anxieties aside, this past year of child bearing had been enchanting; Elrond would catch himself staring at Legolas as he stood in the sunlight, blue eyes lost in some thought of the future as he smiled to himself, hands encircling his belly. Or at night when he would lie in his arms, the two of them singing softly to the baby till it calmed down enough to let him sleep… When Celebrían labored and gave birth, she banished me from the room! She would not have me anywhere near her, let alone touch her…as a matter of fact; we never touched again after that! Elrond recalled. He said as much to Legolas who gave a short laugh, only to be cut off by a contraction.

Are you afraid? Elrond asked softly as they watched the stars being to peek out of the darkness.

No. You are here. I am not afraid.

Elrond picked up one slender hand in his own and kissed it.

"They are getting stronger," Legolas said quietly, and at the next wave of pain he could not help but give a soft mew, gasping as peak came and panting softly in relief as the spasm faded.

Tilting his head into the mass of blond hair, Elrond began to croon into his delicate ear.

Out in the sitting room Elladan was trying to keep his mind on his book but his thoughts kept straying to the elves in the other room. He was very curious to see an elven birth, to male or female and was full of questions he did not know how to put words to. "Glorfindel?"

The blond elf did not look up from his book. "Hmm?"

"How long will labor take?"

"Depends. First children tend to take the longest; delivery will be longer too."

"Delivery?" Elladan was beginning to realize how much he did not know.

"Birth; giving birth."

Visible above the top of his right side up book, Elrohir's forehead was beginning to turn red.

"That is different then, from labor?" He must have looked as stupid as he felt, for Glorfindel closed his book and set it aside.

Rising from his seat, Glorfindel strode over to a bookcase, skimming his finger down the spines of many titles, and finally selected a volume. "Always the learner. Come here, Elladan; sit next to me." The elf returned to his bench and patted the space next to him, opening the book on his knees. "Now…"

The quiet murmurs of the two elves were punctuated by an occasional moan from the other room, which Glorfindel ignored.

"Elladan, this will be a good contrast to female births – male births are rarely encountered though; this is the first in my lifetimes that I have ever even heard of, and that is why you will not see it mentioned in this book; I wrote it back at the beginning of the third age."

Elrohir had abandoned his reading and was sitting very close to the door, one ear cocked attentively.

"How are they different?"

"There is the basic anatomic difference of course, and labor is generally slower for males because of that. There have been so few male births that it is impossible to compare infant or paternal mortality rate between the sexes. Pain though for males is said to be much worse than females – again because of the anatomical difference - though it seems to be bad enough for them." Glorfindel sighed and for the first time looked worried. "Legolas is a strong warrior, but we will find out how strong a parent he is tonight. Elrohir," he noticed the eaves dropper for the first time. "What are you doing?"

"Shh," Elrohir turned his head to get a better angle. "Adar just told Legolas his water has broken."

"Oh, that is good…Elrohir, come away," Glorfindel caught himself and frowned.

Eyes glassy and fixed on the ceiling, breathing shallow and rapid, Legolas wailed, "It hurts,"

Elrond was feeling wretched - something elf lords were not accustomed to feeling - at the sight of this beautiful, strong warrior visibly fighting to maintain control, cringing on the sheets as labor continued, and he had little power to alleviate the situation. "Has the pain medicine helped at all?"

"At first but – ah, ow – it is becoming intolerable." Turning his head and asking in a soft whisper, "Would more hurt the baby?"

Desperately smoothing his hands over the others in repeated helpless gestures Elrond admitted, "I am afraid so, but we can try-"

"No!" Legolas replied sharply, resoluteness adding a spark to his eyes and a forced tranquility to his voice as he dropped his head back and closed his eyes. "No, I can bear it. Please, just come back and hold me; I am not able to bear it on my own."

Dawn was beginning to break over the Misty Mountains when the screaming began. Even Glorfindel had jumped when the first stream of Sindarin commenced, a wailing nonsensical plea for mercy of one being torn in two punctuated with "I cannot I cannot!" in everyday common tongue

"Stay here," the golden haired elf said calmly to the two twins, who sat in silent terror. He bolted up; not waiting for a call for help from Elrond as he quickly let himself into the room.

Never before had he not been in perfect control of his actions and thoughts; his spirit had always ruled over his being but reason had fled his mind as birth drew near. Legolas could not think, hear Elrond's instructions, his words of comfort, or feel anything except the agony betrayed his mind over to insanity before seizing his body and making it not his own.

Glorfindel entered the room to find Legolas kneeling with his weight shifted forward on his hands clutching blood soaked sheets. Moving forward quickly he took Elrond's place, who gratefully shifted onto the bed and cupped Legolas' face in his hands, looking intently into his glassy, unseeing eyes.

"Shh, Legolas, listen to me, do not push,"

Gripping Elrond's arms fiercely with his hands and leaning into his chest the elf seemed to calm slightly. Leaning his head forward and resting it onto his shoulder Legolas' wails of gradually despair died down to a continuous moan.

"Shh, Legolas, it is alright,"

"Easy there," Glorfindel soothed, patting him on the back. "Just let the contractions to the job."

Elladan and Elrohir were pushing at each other frantically trying to get the best place against the closed door to hear what was going on within.

The screaming had died down long ago, replaced by frequent wails of pain. The sun reached its pinnacle at noon when a groan was broken by heavy panting, pitch rising to a short cry.

Legolas collapsed into Elrond gratefully, suddenly with the sensation that everything from the neck down had dropped out of him. Lying him down on his side Elrond shifted his legs to accommodate his position and he moaned at the ripple of discomfort that caused, though it was nothing compared to the last eighteen hours. "It is over," Legolas gave a sigh that was almost a sob of relief, feeling light headed all of a sudden and clenched his eyes shut.

There was a gurgle from the foot of the bed, followed by an infant wail, and his eyes flew open again but he did not dare sit up. "Elrond?" Legolas said inaudibly, feeling Glorfindel throw a blanket over his legs.

"Legolas," Elrond knelt on the floor, shifting his weight against the bed as he set the tiny bundle next to his face so he could see. "It is a girl, Legolas, a tiny, perfect, little girl," he breathed, rejoicing in the delight that lit up Legolas' exhaustedly pallid features. "You did it, oh, you did it, Legolas," Elrond breathed, hands shaking as he touched the tiny facial features of his squirming new daughter and stroked the golden hair of the other.

Tentatively Elladan pulled open the bedchamber door; it had been a very long time since he had had entrance to his father's bedchamber. The room was dimly lit by star light; the trace of blood was gone from the air replaced by the quiet calm which was welcome after the panic and pain that had prevailed earlier. It seemed smaller than he remembered, but the burgundy coloring and deep wood furniture was exactly as he remembered from when he had come pelting to comfort after a night terror as a child.

Hardly daring to breathe he tiptoed across to the bed, stealth nearly lost as he tripped on the dais. Regaining his balance, Elladan looked down at the three figures on the bed.

Legolas lay on his side, appearing to sleeping lightly and peacefully in contrast to the pale exhaustion Elladan had been witness earlier, his new baby daughter under one arm and cradled to his chest. Elrond was lying with his arms about him; cheek resting on the golden hair of the other, breathing even, seemingly in the deepest part of sleep.

Satisfied and relived, Elladan slipped out of the room again and closed the door behind him softly.

It was all a dream; at least, it seems it was all a dream…Legolas stirred, more warm and comfortable than he had felt in the last few days, and heard a quiet coo beside him. Propping himself up on one elbow he was met with the half-lidded gaze of the baby, who was awake and was patiently awaiting attention from her Adars. "Hello beautiful," he murmured, sitting up slowly to find that he was only slightly sore throughout his body this morning, compared to the suffering that had not let down even after birth.

"How do you feel?"

Elrond's voice caused Legolas to jump slightly, and Arwen burbled in response. "I did not know you were awake; much better," he said softly, looking into his grey eyes he felt warmth spread from his gaze down his entire body. "I do not hurt anymore. Yourself?"

"I am fine. Oh Legolas, you have no idea how it is to look into your eyes again; there are no more death shadows." Sitting up he cupped on hand over the baby's head. "It seems all has turned out well."

Taking in the white linen bandage on Elrond's and his own wrists Legolas murmured, "I had no idea it was that grave; that method of healing has never been used in Mirkwood before."

Scooping the elf and the baby into his arms Elrond murmured, "But it is over now. Come. You are a mess, I am a mess; and we all need a bath."

The two elves were interrupted by a frantic pounding on the door. Thoroughly irritated at being disturbed, Elrond impatiently set Legolas down and made his way to the outer room. Wrenching the door open he was stopped short by the sight of Mithrandir and his anger turned to surprise and concern.

"I am sorry to disturb you at such a critical time, Lord Elrond," the wizard offered.

"It must be urgent, if you return to Imadris," Elrond relented as he stepped through the door into the hallway.

The grey head bent closer to his own and uttered the phrase that Elrond had dreaded since the Last Alliance.

"The Ring has been found."