Well, here we are again. After a 9 year hiatus, I finally have returned to this story. I will try and get it to some sort of conclusion after which I intend to do a complete re-write to improve the pacing.

Lothlorien 10 years ago

He carefully fastened the final clasp on the elaborate tunic, it felt a little too stiff, the collar a little too high. More formal than he was used to. He supressed the urge to loosen the neck, he hated feeling restricted in this way.

Biting back a sigh and trying to still his nervous fingers, he turned to present himself to his lover.

'What do you think?' he kept the vulnerability out of his voice as he addressed Haldir, who sat quiet and sullen on the chair.

'I think they would dress you up and parade you like a doll to take credit for your well-doing.' Haldir ground out.

Legolas winced at the tone, 'Please Meleth, it is perfectly reasonable for Celeborn and Galadriel to wish for me to be suitably attired for dinner with the Rivendell delegation. It was most kind of them to have gifted me these things.'

Haldir stood abruptly and made for the ladder of the flet at the last minute he turned to the prince.

'You look like one of the Noldor, cold and remote…' his eyes flared with an unspoken emotion and then he left.

Legolas was left standing alone, a tightness in his chest turning to actual pain as he struggled to calm his thoughts.

Current time- Rivendell

Legolas

After a thorough wash and careful combing out of his hair, Legolas stood in his thin hose in front of the grand carved wardrobe that was kept stocked for his frequent trips to Rivendell.

He felt the foolishness of his actions, as if what he chose to wear would protect him from the discomfort of seeing Haldir again, he shook his head at himself.

Finally he chose the most formal thing he owned, a pale blue silk tunic with vines embroidered around the cuffs, collar and sleeves in a pale silver thread. Haldir hated that tunic, he thought with a small smirk.

He pulled it on over his soft shirt and then set about his hair, choosing a high tight braid that he would seldom wear in the safety of Imladris.

He took himself to the mirror by his door, a huge silvered surface that he always felt was a foolish indulgence, gifted to him by Glorfindel when he had first returned after his convalescence in Lothlorien. He had not felt able to refuse the extravagant gift when Glorfindel had looked so pleased with it.

His reflection was still thin and pale. The high cut of the tunic showed off the angles of his face and where his hair was pulled away, there was a faint trace of a scar on his neck. He looked forbidding and unapproachable. Perfect, he hoped it was enough to make anyone wishing to approach him rethink the impulse.

He eased his door open and took a steady step into the hallway only to find himself in front of the huge hound that belonged to Elrohir. The dog rose to his feet and shook himself out with complete unconcern before he padded towards the elf and thrust his head into Legolas' outstretched hand. Legolas laughed lightly, 'Well my friend, are you planning to escort me to dinner then?' he allowed the dog to lope next to him as he made his way to the dining room.

SS

Elrohir

His eyes flicked up to the doorway and back as he readjusted his seat for what felt like the hundredth time. He knew that his restlessness was putting Elladan on edge but he simply couldn't help himself. How could Galadriel have sent Haldir to lead the company to head to the wood? He loved his grandmother dearly, but sometimes he felt that she had no more insight than anyone else.

He was worried for Legolas, his friend seemed exhausted beyond his endurance. The similarity of his torture to what had happened to him in Dul Guldor had seemed to have brought it all back and Elrohir feared where his mind could yet go.

His own mind seemed muddled, his thoughts tangled together like a ball of string. He still felt that raw wound from when Legolas had stopped breathing. It hit him again with a force that knocked his own breath from his lungs. His reaction had frightened him, never in his long life had he felt so bereft, not even when his mother had sailed. Why had he felt that way?

He had loved Legolas always, from when they were only elflings exploring the valley. His friend was full of joy and life and vigour and Elrohir had never felt as happy as he did when laughing along with his golden friend. But what was the nature of his love? He had never stopped to really examine it. When they had spent so much time together they were but children and did not consider such things. Then Legolas was lost just after reaching his majority and Elrohir had thought that he would never laugh again.

When Elrohir and Elladan had heard that he was found and recovering in Lothlorien all those years ago, Elrond had forbidden them setting out immediately. Legolas was too vulnerable to be disturbed and would need time.

When 2 years later, his friend had re-entered the valley he was so changed that Elrohir barely knew him. A frail, nervous creature with shadows behind his eyes, accompanied by the one who had found him and now held his heart, Haldir.

Now Haldir was no longer a barrier and Elrohir felt a great fear that he would miss his chance if he didn't take his chance now and declare himself.

But was this too selfish of him? His friend was by no means well and his heart was still raw from the loss of his lover. It would not be fair to burden him further.

No, Elrohir would have to wait until the time was right.