Title: Feet
Author: imaginary_witness
Pairings: Elrond X Legolas
Ratings: PG13 (for references to nudity, sexual actions and kissing)
Warnings: None. Homosexual pairing.
Genre: Action, Fluff, Humor, Romance.

Disclaimer: I don't own the characters in this story: living (or passed) human beings or fictional characters. These events never happened, according to history or as the original author intended them. This is a work of fiction and is not intended to offend. For entertainment purposes only. Thanks.

Author's Notes: Originally posted on a different fan-site. Reviews are always welcome.

Story Notes: Translations for the Elvish phrases and words used in this fic are posted at the bottom, but they are also in brackets beside the Elvish dialogue as well.

*Edited July 2017*

The Misty Mountains began to fade in the twilight of the evening. One of my companions built a small fire and sat tending it, another to our horses. We were a small group, me and two guards traveling from Mirkwood, and only stopped because they insisted.

"Imladris is within a day's journey!" I protested.

"You travelled non-stop since we left. I will not have you appear in Rivendell ready to fall on your face."

I opened my mouth to protest when the guard's companion added, "It's your father's orders."

"My father's..." I let it hang, afraid my swearing would reach home to the king of the Woodelves' pointy ears. He was indeed ordering.

"We cannot linger near the mountains!" I complained, but sat by the fire.
The rather young, honest guard, and friendly one, Elenea, rummaged about his saddle bag for wheybread off in the shadows.

Suddenly the air was buzzing with voices from afar. Picking up the sounds before my companion, I stood and began looking for the source. A few leagues out, a group of goblins carrying torches and weaponry were running and leaping towards us, clicking and shrieking their battle cries.

"Goblins!" I warned.

The air around us rained arrows, bent and makeshift, and we took cover in the nearby trees. As soon as they entered our range, arrows of our own met our targets with deadly precision. The exercise made my arms burn and I mentally noted just how much the journey without rest had cost me. Still, I was easily the best archer out of us three.

As their army shrank and either fell or turned away, I felt a smile creep upon my face. It felt wonderful to drop enemies once more! We were near celebrating, my companion Astalder, the rather stubborn one, obviously thinking of entering Imladris with a story to brag on, when Elenea cried out. "A'!" he called as an Orc jumped him from behind.

Flipping out my daggers, I spun them on my wrists to slash Elenea free from his strangle-hold.

"Ta naa neuma! (It is a trap!)" I cried to Astalder, and the three of us continued battling on. Kicking, swinging, flipping, stabbing and constantly blocking. Under the cover of darkness, these fell creatures poured from the trees and grunting and snorting, insisted on slashing and hacking as much of us as they could.

"Ta naa neuma! (It is a trap!)" I cried, black blood flying and grunts sounding in the night.

I forced my feet to move faster, my heavy arms to lift higher, swing wider. My feet danced lithely beneath me, my eyes taking in a blurred surrounding flashing with orcs. My two guards stayed together, back to back, as I swept around them, taking down as many as I could. This was ambush! There seemed little chance of three Elves escaping the flood of orcs, even if we got harmed.

Thinking those thoughts forced myself to push harder, act faster. I managed to cut a small circle clear around me, giving me time to assess our situation. There seemed to be less of them, and the rumbling of the ground seemed to quiet slightly. They must be thinning.

The other's sensed this too. They were no longer back to back, but side to side, fighting against a small wall of orcs. The orcs, finding an advantage, began to spread out, their numbers circling to attack from behind. I realized they must've thought I failed or fled off to fight their ranks elsewhere.

"Caela ie'lle! (Have at thee!)" I cried, jumping to the aide of my friends. Forming a triangle, we pressed our own advantage, eventually spreading out, widening out territory.

I brought my blade down through the arm of another, as I flipped the second to catch the throat of my foe. I turned, my eyes searching for enemies when I saw one of the orcs, bigger than the rest, pulling back an arrow in a short, twisted bow. It was bending back sharply, dangerously close to release.

"No!" I shouted, jumping in front of Elenea. The whizz of an arrow, the thump of it meeting flesh and then sickening squish it made as it pierced. Pain flashed through me, growing quickly and causing my eyes to tear up. Elenea turned around, his shoulder bleeding from the arrow. The wound was deep and he turned to face me, eyes wide in fear. The arrow that pierced his shoulder rested in me, pierced straight through my shoulder to still injured him.

I kept my mouth in a tight line as I turned. Another arrow met the bow but I threw my knife to cut the string. Glaring and snorting intimidatingly, the Orc pulled out his sword. I wasted no time in switching my second blade from injure to safe arm. Circling, we began the dance of death, blood flowing from my wound marking our steps. Only one would walk away from this. Tears blurred my vision and I blinked them away, knowing full well how my kin would take them.

"For Legolas!" Astalder called. And over the orc's shoulder I saw my two guards release their arrows, piercing straight through both of his eyes.

My own went wide in shock and fear for a second, before I rushed to hug them both.

"Legolas! I am so sorry! My foolishness cost you so much!" Astalder began.

"It's okay, I'm alright," I began. Suddenly I felt light-headed. The world blurred as my vision changed, showing me the tree tops, the brightening sky and then blackness. A numbness filled my shoulder and I felt a foaming vomit rise up my throat.

"Legolas!"

"The arrow,"

"must've been"

"go now!"

I heard small pieces of blurred voices, beginning to sound rather stretched out and over-pronounced. A cool sensation filled my mind and then I was swept under the blackness.

It was bright.

I kept my eyes closed. The intensity of the bright lights hurt too much to open them.

"You must go back."

"Go?" I thought, puzzled. "But I've only just arrived."

"You are needed elsewhere Legolas. Your time will come,"

"You sound familiar," I thought.

"but it is not now. You have much promise, young Elf. You mission is not yet over and your journey has yet to begin."

"I don't understand. What journey?"

"When legend becomes myth, and myth to mystery, you shall be needed. Until then, find love."

I could feel a straining. Behind me, faintly, I could hear a new voice calling my name.

"Go!" the familiar voice beckoned me.

"Gil-galad!" I randomly blurted. My eyes fighting to see him. I didn't know how I knew it was him, I just did.

"Do not open your eyes - or there is no going back."

"Legolas," I heard behind me, louder now.

"Go."

I felt like I was slipping away. Dissolving. It didn't hurt but it wasn't a pleasant thought. The light increased and I found myself scrunching my eyes tightly shut to keep it out. The white intensity rushing by.

It was bright.

I kept my eyes closed. The intensity of the bright lights hurt too much to open them.

Behind my lids, the white tinted red with blood flow. I felt myself scrunching my eyes shut tightly shut to keep the light out.

"He must be waking!" I heard a familiar voice cry. It must've been Elenea, he sounded excited as a young Elf would. And thankful. They must've been so worried.

I felt a warm hand caress my forehead. Surprise sent waves through me! The hand felt mortal, soft and calloused. It had a rough feel but a gentle touch. It also sent waves of delight through me. I figured I never met this being before, and vaguely wondered why the guards had a mortal aid me instead of Elrond. No doubt they headed to Imladris.

"He is awake, probably confused."

It was the voice I heard calling my name in my dream! My eyes flew open without me intending to. "You!" I called, my voice cracking from dryness. "A!" I called out, blinking at the brightness and raising my good hand to shield my eyes.

I heard chuckles being made of me. Three. So there must be the guards and the healer. The healer! I tried once more, rather more patiently, to rise myself to see my comrades.

"Stubborn as always," I heard Astalder jest. I found him first, catching him just as he pushed Elenea lightly in joke. They grinned as they saw me open my eyes, their smiles not meeting their own.

"His eyes," Elenea whispered, a little shocked.

"What's with them?" I cried. My eyes were not right!

"They're purple!" Astalder giggled.

"They will return to their coloring when the last of the poison leaves." the voice replied.

"But it's been six days!" Elenea protested.

"Six days?!" I repeated.

"You slept alot." Astalder quipped.

"You were worried." I responded. They nodded. "I am fine." I comforted. They smiled, reassured.

"It is best you rest for a time, Mirkwood Prince. Six days is not enough to heal a full body pierce, even as lucky a shot as the shoulder."

I turned to the source of it; a tall male with long dark hair tied with elaborate delicate braids to hold a silver twisted crown. He wore a robe of deep auburn to contradict his pale skin, and his lips were pale pink and narrow. He was smirking as I took in his appearance, saving his eyes for last. They were steel grey, and sparkled with a light I seldom saw in anyone's. They held ancient wisdom and kindness, a new light. I saw a world I could fall into and feared I already had. This man was an Elf and I felt a blush tint my cheeks as I thought he looked both noble and attractive.

"Where is the mortal?" I found myself asking.

"Mortal? What mortal?" Astalder asked.

"Ah, that would be me." the dark-hair Elf spoke. His lips were curved in a smile and he sat on the edge of my bed, placing his hand on my forehead.

"It was you!" I cried in surprise. My eyes raked across his hair to find the point of an ear poking out. "But-"

"I am Elrond Half-Elven, my young prince."

I felt a tremendous wave of shame and foolishness. Here I was, recovering from certain death, only to be awed into attraction from the Lord of Imladris.

"Not what you expected?" he asked, his voice a low purr.

Astalder, the older of my guards, elbowed Elenea and they both held back their laughter at my reaction. I didn't trust myself to speak and only let my mouth drop open a little. Elrond rose an eyebrow at them.

"You may go, he is fine now."

"Elenea," I called as they made to leave. "You were hit, are you alright?"

He turned to face me. "Yes, my prince. I am alright and alive, thanks to you." he bowed and followed Astalder out.

"Here," Elrond wrapped his arms delicately around me to help me sit up and remove the light shirt I had on. "I want to check the bandaging." he whispered.

"How..."

"It was bad. I'm not surprised your immortality was challenged. The tears," he added, wiggling his fingers in front of his face as he noticed my confusion.

"Oh." was all I could respond.

"A heavy arrow, made of steel, straight through your shoulder. I did everything I could while extracting it to lower the risk of you losing some agility in your arm. It was swollen and I needed the aide of a blacksmith to help detached the arrowhead and clear up the piercing. Straight through muscle though, so you should heal right up."

I felt queasy as he spoke of the injury, pain flaming up as he poked the bandaging.

"Well, it is well wrapped and should be changed daily for the next few weeks. I shall keep checking on you?" he asked my permission.

I nodded.

Handing me a glass of water, he watched as I drank. "Thranduil's son are you?" I nodded, still drinking.

He chuckled. "He sent his son, the Prince of Mirkwood, to ride to Imladris with little of Two friends?" he mused.

"He thought it better if I had a smaller group of guards to attract less attention." I mumbled.

"Your guards were they?" I nodded again, drinking another glass of water. "Well, they were quite useless in guarding you. You seemed to guard them more!"

I choked on my water, hissing in pain and laughing all at the same time. His eyes twinkled and he helped me to settle, an emotion in his eyes catching my attention.

"So," he began all business again. "what information would he trust his son to keep? Or were you running away in fear of a wedding of sorts?"

I turned my face to avert his eyes as I blushed.

"We don't need to talk now then. You must be weary." he turned to go.

Without thinking, I reached out and grabbed his hand. As soon as he turned, I released him in fear. An action such as that in Mirkwood would be taken as a flirtatious move. Father never let anyone touch me. I caught myself apologizing and turning scarlet.

"My prince, why apologize?" Elrond asked concerned.

"Do you not take touch the same as Mirkwood?" I asked confused as he held my arm.

"Whatever do you mean?" he asked, humoured.

"We don't touch in Mirkwood." I began. "It's considered flirtatious behavior and I didn't mean to give you that message, not saying that I wouldn't flirt with you, just - oh!" I realized what I chattered. I turned pink and averted my eyes.

To my surprise, Elrond laughed. "Oh my prince!"

"Legolas," I mumbled.

"You really don't like the nobility?" he mused more than asked. "Legolas," he began again. "It's not taken that way in Rivendell, and I assume it's out of your character to reach out at all. Tell me - since you wish me not to leave so suddenly, why did Thranduil send you here?"

"He told me to report to you that the Necromancer of Mirkwood has been locked inside the tower of Dul Gordol. We are not sure if he will react or if the tower is to his liking. To be honest, I find this a rather silly-"

"Silly?!" Nay! Tis an awkward situation but one of high demand."

I smiled and he smiled back. It was a silent moment, a cheery one, filled with an lightning current of energy. We both felt it, he hid it much better than I did, I guesses through experience I lacked. And smiling, he stood to leave. I found my eyes closing and caught him tucking a small red bottle away into his robes.

"You're tired," he started.

"Your water-" I accused.

"Not a trick gets by you, Legolas. You are indeed a sharp Elf. You are tired," he started.

I yawned. "Will I see you at dinner?" I asked.

"If you wake for it." he challenged.

"Then show me, how do the Elves of Imladris differ from those of the dark woods?" I challenged back.

He smirked. "I will," he promised, pulling the light sheet over my naked torso.

Dinner indeed proved to be a challenge. Elrond had entered, asking a following servant to bring two trays in to my confinements. He grew amused as I declined, using the side table to aid myself up. "I will not steal the Lord from his table. Come, escort me to the delights of the Imladris merriment." I began, taking Elrond's extended arm and walking to the dinning chamber. He insisted I wore a crown of silver, even if it were a thin band, to show my ancestry.

It was a spacious hall, with statues carved from light colored wood, and everywhere a fire was lit in a small candle. Large arched windows alined the walls with little benches built into them for comfy seats. There was a large table in the middle of the room, that rose only a foot or so off the ground. Pillows provided seats around the scruffed table top and Elrond took me to sit at his left hand side, at his right another dark haired Elf he introduced as his councillor, Erestor.

Erestor was similar to Elrond in some ways but outshone by him in many others. They had similar features but Elrond was more built; his muscles tight and hard to hide under his billowing robes. Elrond also had more of an edge to him, a sort of dark or dangerous shadow.

For the first part of the meal, the three of us discussed the dealings with the Necromancer and all that it would arise. I fumbled with my food a lot, mainly due to my injury and after some conversation, ended up confessing that I begged my father to be the bearer of the news as I longed to travel to Imladris. Erestor soon began interested in the dealings of Mirkwood Elves and we began to describe ridiculously mundane tasks to each other's astonishment. Elrond grew quiet as we discussed, Erestor's eyes shifting to his face every few moments in concern and I tried not to glance at him as I used my hands and words to describe to Erestor several things. It was hard, especially when I could feel his eyes on me.

Many Elves began to rise, the first ones up picking up plates and clearing the table. I glanced around intrigued, no longer interested in food. Elrond noticed.

"One of Imladris's customs,"

"and unique things," Erestor added to Elrond's annoyance.

"is the evenings we end in the Firehall."

Suddenly, the fire made sense. The windows had no shutters or closures and in-between, under the benches, were little camp fires, burning in a hearth. There was a giant fireplace in which Elrond and Erestor brought me to gather. I watched in awe as Elves took pillows to sit together along the walls, some to sit along the windows. Four took what I thought were the legs of the table and pulled them out to set the top on the floor. The four legs were then gathered together to form a small riser in which five Elves produced instruments from and set about tuning. Before my very eyes, the simple dining chamber transformed into an elegant hall. The sun set deeper during the change and the fires provided an excellent source of light and warmth around the room.

The music was light and sweet and before long, the doors were opened to the common Elves of Rivendell. All of which, gathered in the room, laughing and conversing. Some even were brave enough to start the dancing, which was taking place on table-top-turned-dancefloor. That explains the marks, I thought.

To my surprise, a golden-haired Elf came up to me. "Would you be the star of my evening and honor me with a dance, my Prince?"

I stood. "I'd be delighted."

I couldn't bear to not sneak a glance at Elrond. Leaving his side, I turned to meet his eyes. His were full of adoration and he reached out to touch my fingertips with his. "Hurry back," he whispered, to which I had no words.

(Elrond's PoV)

I turned back to face my advisor when I found him gloating. I was blushing, the tips of my ears heated, as I realized just how open my actions might have looked.

"Erestor," I began. He grinned mischievously and anyone who knew Erestor as well as I did knew that he wasn't only grinning at the obvious.

"Erestor!" I repeated, firmer this time. I looked over my shoulder, following Erestor's flickering gaze. "Glorfindal?!" I asked, barely able to contain the venom in my voice.

"Whoa! Hold the reins. I can explain, my Lord." My words finally broke his mask. He turned from making...eyes with Glorfindal as the majestic elf twirled the young Mirkwood Prince expertly.

"Explain." I narrowed my eyes and realized I was tapping my foot, something I developed from having to lecture my twins as they grew.

Erestor laughed at my impatience, the sound of wind chimes. "My Lord Elrond, I merely got Glorfindal" (he practically sighed the name) "to ask the Prince to dance with him."

My eyes narrowed and he hastened to add, "so that I might have a moment to speak with you alone."

He took a breath, glanced at Glorindal and began. "Elrond, I was going to ask - as a friend - how have you and the Prince been? However, clearly, I need not ask."

"Erestor! Whatever do you mean?!" I felt my cheeks tint pink. I turned to face Erestor once more, my gaze previously held by the Prince being twirled and spun, occasionally dipped. He was conversing with Glorfindal some, staying a friendly length away. His feet were quick and purposeful, never failing at matching Glorfindal's stride or step.

"Well, you have had your eyes on him since you've been in company."

"Oh the scandal!" I moaned, shaking my head and holding my face in my hands.

"Elrond, Elrond!" Erestor chuckled. "Tis alright. I'm sure," he placed his hand on my shoulder and caused me to glance up at Legolas as he was twirled by. He was watching me and gave the smallest smile, turning pink as Erestor whispered, "the Prince has a place in his heart for you as well."

(Legolas's PoV)

Being asked to dance by Glorfindal was indeed a pleasant surprise. He was very charming and rather egotistic, often trying to find a way to outdo my moves or grace. He was a friendly teaser and is, from the glances I caught him giving Erestor, a rather homely Elf.

I kept my footfalls light, trying to be soft enough to match his speed but hard enough to have purpose in my moves. It was an awkward balance, one that Mirkwood Elves seldom did, but the dancing felt good, giving my feet some well awaited movement. They moved more separate to my shins and I wondered why dancing wasn't used to train warriors feet?

Glancing over at Elrond, I caught him staring before turning to Erestor and turning pink. I giggled and Glorfindal turned to share my laughter.

"They are rather comical, are they not?" he asked, dipping me low but keeping himself a friendly length in distance.

"They are!" I agreed, allowing him to gently twist me up.

Glorfindal, I assume to eavesdrop on his lover and Lord, began to twirl me by them. Catching Erestor's glance, he turned us so I now faced Elrond. I saw him glance up and meet my gaze. Offering up a smile due to his distress, I found myself being danced away by Glorfindal again, a faint flush coursing along my cheeks as Elrond smiled in return.

"May I ask, my Prince?" Glorfindal whispered.

"Ask?" I wondered.

"Lord Elrond, do you fancy him?"

I laughed, staring down as half the hall turned to see which Elf made the sound of water falling and leaves dancing on the breeze. Glancing up, I saw Glorfindal was waiting for an answer.

"You won't tell him, would you?" I asked.

"I thought so!" he grinned.

"Glorfindal!" I moaned.

"I would do no such thing." he laughed. "but you should."

I stared into his eyes. He had burning passion and a fiery soul. He was a determined and confident Elf, one that earned whatever he received. But there was truth mingled in his bravery.

"What does love feel like, Glorfindal?" I asked, moving closer to place my hand on his shoulder and another in his. I lent my head wearily against his and he swayed us in a small circle.

He smiled against my head and I could tell he was staring in Erestor's direction. "Legolas," (he was one of the Elves that got the nobility issue), "When I met Erestor, it made me feel lighter. My burdens were not longer the weight of the world and he seemed to emit a light no other had ever possessed. The way you see Erestor, perhaps as a simple, kind Elf is not the way I do. He glows and it fills my heart with joy to see him smile. If he hurts, then so will I. It is not a bond to be made, Legolas. It is a bond to keep."

"So, you do not choose to, you simple are. And you know you are when the two of you are light and carefree together, joyous and grieved alike."

"Correct. So tell me, when Elrond smiles, do you smile?"

"I do. But how is that different from when my Ada smiles and I do? Or when Elenea smiles and I do?"

He pulled away slightly to stare into my eyes. I was weary from the dancing and my shoulder throbbed lightly.

"Legolas, mellonamin. Do you feel his smile touch your heart like Cupid's arrow? Does the smile from your friends or your father make your heart burn such as his?"

A felt my eyes glaze over slightly as I glanced at Elrond from beneath my lashes. He was sipping a drink and leaning back against the bricks near the fire. He seemed to be in some sort of confession to Erestor. I wondered what his advisor was saying.

"You are right Glorfindal. I should speak to him." I pulled my hand back to stifle a yawn in my elbow.

"That shot really pulled the strength from you, mellonamin. Let's get you to bed." he laughed as he towed me to Elrond.

"Here." Erestor swept me up into his arms and handed me to Elrond.

"Gentle!" I heard Elrond's concerned whisper. "His shoulder is fragile."

"Your Prince is tired, he is falling asleep as we speak!"

They chuckled and I felt warm, built arms around me. Gently, without even rocking me, Elrond stood and bid his advisors a good night. They repeated a blessing and he began to carry me to my room in the healing houses.

"Did you enjoy your dinner?" he asked, gently in the empty halls. It was chilly here, without all the fires.

"Yes, Lord Elrond. It was excellent." I responded through numb lips.

"You are exhausted." he noted. "Much like my brother when he arrived back from journeys long. Must be from your shoulder, it is draining you to heal."

I smiled, listening to him speak. He managed to open the door without shifting me and lay me face down on the bed. Striping me of my shirt and wrappings, I yelled as he began to apply some solution to the wound.

"It is healing just fine." he whispered in my ear. I felt oddly comforted, and turned so he could dress the front. "The back is closed, scabbed over. The front is still pierced." he mused.

He put the solution on the bedside table and wrapped a new dressing of leaves and soft cloth around me. Over my shoulder, around my chest, again and again, until at last, his hands tied the two end pieces together. I sighed at the loss of contact we held now.

He stared into my eyes, a million words and memories reflected in his. I found myself at a loss for words and felt as if my heart were a beckon of fire. Could he possibly hear the scattered beating he was causing? Or be it he was sightful of the blood speeding through my veins, highlighting my cheeks with the colour of the setting sun?

We gazed long into each other's eyes, not knowing what we were searching for or even if we found anything. At last Elrond averted his eyes, then turned his head.

"Quel esta (rest well), my sweet Legolas." he murmured, beginning to rise.

Reaching out, I grab his hand to get his attention. I leaned forwards and once he turned to face me, placed my other hand on his cheek. His eyes flashed many emotions; fear, confusion, anger, longing, and yielding to catch a few. I took a deep breath quickly and before he had any time to react, leaned forwards to press my lips to his.

He gasped against my lips and I moaned at the feel. It was an innocent kiss that I meant to start but already it was causing me to burn with longing. The hand I had on his cheek moved to wrap around and fingers tangle in his hair. He hooked an arm around my waist, growling slightly as he pulled me closer. He was gentle and still mindful of my injury, as he pressed our bodies together as best as he could as we remained seated.

The kiss deepened, so suddenly I had not the time to register it. I moaned as he placed our bodies close and yelp out as he took advantage, sliding his tongue into my open mouth. Unsure, I waited a moment before naturally allowing my tongue to mingle with his. I smiled as he moaned, glad I wasn't terrible at kissing, and we secured our lips closely together before pulling apart.

Without another word, Elrond stood, blew out the candle on my bedside table and pulled the sheet up on me. I swear he was smiling as he left the room.

It was light and breezy as I awoke. I felt light and joyous as I stretched lightly and began to stand on my feet. I realized, staring down at my feet, just how long it had been since I had journeyed without a proper bath. My body had been washed with a soft cloth as I was unconscious but I still had dirt beneath my nails and stuck in the cuticles. My scalp began to feel heavy and without a second thought, I found myself walking down the halls of the homely houses, searching for a bath.

Giving up after walking in circles, I headed to the dining hall for breakfast. Elrond was placing small platters of fruit on the dance-floor-turned-table-top and paused to toss his hair back over his shoulder. He heaved a sighed and stood up straight. Catching the movement in the corner of his eye, he turned and smile at my appearance.

"Legolas! I had not expected you up so early!"

"I was looking for a bath." I timidly explained.

His eyes shined and he smiled, stepping closer. "Eat, then I shall take you to bath."

I obeyed, oddly content with the lack of conversation he provided. Without any others about, he openly stared as I ate, occasionally brushing a lock of hair behind my shoulder with his fingertips. As I result, I ended up eating slower than usual in order to appear more graceful. He chuckles under his breath, an action that did not go unnoticed.

I stood, once pleased, and watched him rise as well.

"I take it you wood-elves shower in the ponds and still waters of your home?" he questioned, taking a step towards me.

I nodded. "The river too, though most times there is too much dirt and danger."

"Come then! I shall show you another way our realms are different!"

He took my hand and walked with me to his chambers, dashing inside and rummaging through some drawers and quickly returning to my side. I had no intention of ruining his surprise, and instead walked quietly by his side. He stopped us as we walked along the garden beside the water fall. I turned to see him stopped and smiling.

"What-" I began before he dropped the lilac coloured robe he was wearing.

He had his back to me as he did so, his hair open and flowing down his back. It was a dark contrast to his fair back, muscular and well built. His waist slimmed in but remained tough and his legs were powerful looking and fuzzy with hair. His robe crumpled in a heap and he stepped over a lower piece of the rail.

"You are not serious!" I called to him as he waded out towards the waterfalls.

He turned to face me, his grey eyes shining brightly. He was waist deep in the crystal, foaming water and held up one hand, crooning his finger for me to join him.

I sighed, stepped out of my leggings and self-consciously glanced around. It was still fairly early, the morning's light only just beginning to cast the first shadows of the day. I took comfort in that, and Elrond waiting in the water, so I unfastened the knots on my robe and let it join Elrond's.

Stepping over the rail, I took my first few steps into the water, hissing at the temperature change. Elrond waded back to my, our waists both covered by water and mist.

"Shh," he whispered, holding my hand and guiding my to where he had been.

I stumbled and slipped, his hand holding me upright and saving me from falls. The rocks were slippery with moss, algae and other water vegetation and the waters became more distilled as we got closer to the waterfall.

"I'll stay here." I offered, as Elrond had to grab my forearm and hook an arm around my waist to keep me from falling head first into the pool.

"Nay! You shall shower as the Elves of Rivendell do." he mocked me.

"It is too difficult. I cannot walk to the falls." I admitted. "My feet are weak and fail me." I mumbled, feeling pathetic.

"Feet are not weak, my prince. They are our roots, our foundations. They hold us and lead us. I am grateful for mine. For my feet have taken me far, young Elf. From warm, sandy shores to the cold chills of rock and mud. To the battlefields of dirt and dust. Over soft earthen graves of the friends I lost, and through still, cool waters that refreshed my mind and eased my body. My feet have carried me far, Legolas, to and across this world and its wonders. But tired and well-worn, my feet have led to me to the valley of Imladris, and here I found comfort in the Earth's soil and water. Yours are not weak, but graceful and full of purpose!"

He drew me closer to him and I could feel the small hair along his legs and chest tickle my skin in the water. His lips grazed my neck and he nipped at the lobe of my ear from behind me, wrapping his hands around my waist.

"Though," he growled, a low velvet purr in my ear. "they sometimes need guidance."

And with that said, he lifted my waist, aiding by the water and slid his feet under my own. I gasped at the contact the closeness had on our bodies; his legs behind mine, his chest pressed against my back. He held my hands as he walked, both me and him, to under the powerful waters.

"Many people will tell you to listen to your heart, Legolas. But that is not always true." he purred, the spray of the waterfall beginning to dampen my hair in a relaxing way.

"Your heart will tell you what to decide but your feet, it is your feet that will tell you where to go!" he uttered, kissing my neck. He reached in front of me and grabbed a small handful of berries from the basket he had floating in the water. It was the things he brought from his room, I realized, as he crushed the berries in his powerful hands and began to rub them into my hair.

He began singing a slow, enchanting song under his breath as he work. Scooping water in his hands, he rubbed the berries into my hair as a creamy, foamy solution before walking me under the waterfall and naturally washing it off. I became captivated by the beauty of Imladris, the natural way of life formed here. There was no change to the land to accommodate the living, such as Mirkwood had done. There was only this, this symbiotic relation that the Elves shared with nature.

I felt Elrond behind me, kissing up my neck and along my collarbones. The sun was higher now and a few Elves were beginning to awaken, occasionally opening their leafy curtains to let in more light. I knew we were too far away from even Elf eyes to make out details. I was surprised the idea of other Elves seeing Elrond wrapping his arms around me, kissing me, and holding me had no effect on me. I rather enjoyed it and turned to kiss Elrond's lips.

A moan broke free of Elrond's throat as our lips crushed against each other's, tongues wrestling in water and saliva. Elrond allowed himself to fall back into the eater, using one arm to keep afloat as he held me close and kissed me endlessly.

I found myself moaning back and holding around his shoulder. He was aroused and I could feel it, my own body reacting in a way I knew not know to share. I pulled out of the kiss, gasping for breath and he was grinning back at me as he panted. His cheeks were flushed pink and he hair was soaked, fanning out in the water and mixing with my own. His voice quivered with love and fear as he spoke:

"I could do this every day with you, my sweet prince. I love sharing your lips, our secrets. You are more radiant than all the stars at night and more graceful than the sun's rising. Amin mel lle."

Elrond, having made his intentions clear, swallowed and stared into my eyes. I felt young and naive to even consider responding to him. Elrond, Lord of Elven Haven Imladris, Herald to Gil-galad the high Elf king of ages past, and healer and enemy of my father, loves me! I felt a swell of emotion in my chest, a raging burning and the need for his lips against mine, our bodies entwined.

Glorfindal's words came back to me, repeating in my head as I stared into Elrond's cool, grey eyes; "He glows and it fills my heart with joy to see him smile. If he hurts, then so will I. It is not a bond to be made, Legolas. It is a bond to keep."

My decision was made before I could even realize there was a need for one. I leaned in to kiss him, kissing a small, light trail to his ear.

"My feet have led me here, Master Elrond." I whispering, loving the moan he issued from my breath and lips against his ear. "Here to Imladris, and it's beauty. My feet have taken me from the darkness of the forest of the Elves and exposed me to such beauty it cleanses my skin in light and awe. My feet have led me, melamin, to you."

(It is a) trap! = (Ta naa) neuma!
Have at thee! = Caela ie'lle
Ada = Father
Rest well = Quel esta