Elladan stood with hands clenched at his sides. He could scarce believe his eyes, yet there was Legolas, in Gildor's arms, kissing him. And in the gardens too.
"My father wishes to speak with you," he said, moving forward, eyes burning, body shaking. He waited until Gildor had gone before turning his gaze to Legolas' swollen lips, to the mark on his throat. Jealousy ripped through him. "Have you no shame?"
To his satisfaction, Legolas blushed, but both were short-lived. "None," Legolas replied. "Now if you will excuse me . . ."
Furious, Elladan blocked his path. "No. I won't.