Elrond did not look at the Ring. It remained safely within its unopened box, and the box within his hand. He did look at the box, studying the tiny leaves, swirls, and letters carved into the wood, and he brushed away a few small bits of dust from its surface. Then he turned to Glorfindel, who stood behind. "It should be kept somewhere safer, especially in these times."

"You're sure of this?"

The Ring box was light in Elrond's hand, and warm, and it seemed to radiate such an aura of comfort and familiarity that he was loath to let it go. For a second he reconsidered, thinking that perhaps it would be wiser to keep the Ring in its centuries-old place at his bedside. But the words of Legolas, now five days old, sang too loudly within his memory.

"Yes," he said to Glorfindel, and he handed the box to his friend. "Take it to the cellars and put it under lock, and you are to have the only key. And of course you will tell no-one; all who now know of its whereabouts are to believe that it is still in this room."

"Of course." Glorfindel took the Ring's box, though to him it was heavy. He clenched his fingers about it, ever tighter. And he would not look at it, denying himself the opportunity of seeing the small and fragile metal clasp that stuck, unlocked, upon the box, barely holding it shut. He had strength enough to resist the call of Vilya; he would not look upon it.

"Good," said Elrond. "It will be less of a burden on my mind once I know the Ring is safely locked away." He smiled at Glorfindel, who nodded back and turned to leave.

"And Glorfindel..." Elrond added.

"Yes?"

"If you see my sons, would you tell them to come here? I wish to speak with them."

"Certainly. What's the purpose?"

"No purpose. I merely want to talk, and hear about their recent travels."

* * * * *

In his hand he held a silver goblet filled with wine, but Legolas did not drink. He stood leaning against a pillar near the doorway, watching the others in the Hall sing and play at merriment despite the hints of foreboding and dread that cursed the air. No-one spoke of the next morning. They were content to disregard it for the time being with a juvenile hope that perhaps it would not come. No-one spoke of rings or quests or Mordor.

"You're worried."

Legolas glanced to his right, where one of the sons of Elrond stood, smiling sadly at him. He suspected it was Elrohir; Elladan would surely have found reason to be quarrelsome and harsh.

"Yes," he said.

"Well, you do have good reason to be so. I too would be in a dark mood if I were leaving for Mordor at dawn." Elrohir held out his hand. "Come, walk with me a moment."

The two left the hall and Elrohir lead the way to the terrace. They walked here, alone, and Elrohir spoke. "I first of all wish to apologise for the behaviour of my brother these past several days, and also for my own lack of judgement. It was wrong of us to act against our father's will, and although we could not see it at the time, we realise now our mistake. I suppose we have grown too accustomed to always being the ones going off to battle or errantry, and it seemed strange to be asked to remain at home when so much is at stake."

Stopping, he turned to face Legolas, and lay a friendly hand on the prince's shoulder. "But after consideration, we came to understand the decision. We are needed here now, and will be needed to fight the wars of Gondor when the armies of Mordor are released, just as you will be needed to watch over the safety of the Ringbearer. And since you had volunteered your services to do so, there was little question of who should walk with the company. It is folly to turn down such bravely offered help in these black times. We can now plainly see that, and we admire our father's choice in the matter."

"These are Elladan's thoughts as well?"

Elrohir laughed. "Yes, though he will never say so to you. He is too proud to admit he was ever wrong. But if you can forgive him his earlier misconduct and start a relationship anew, I promise you will find him to be far more agreeable than his mien would most often show. He can be a very good friend, and a loyal comrade."

"I will have to take your word on that," Legolas replied. But he was heartened by Elrohir's speech. If Elrohir and indeed Elladan had forgiven him, even partially, it would be one less worrying darkness to him. He hated to think of Elrond's sons as his enemies.

Laughing again, Elrohir took Legolas by the arm and led him inside. "You need not trust only my words. Follow me- I have something for you."

He brought Legolas into his own bedroom and showed him to the dressing table. Upon this lay two knives, identical, with bright perfect silver blades. Both blade and handle were etched with delicate curved and swirling lines of fair Elven crafting. They were things of beauty, gleaming in the soft candlelight, but also sharp and deadly as any sword. Carefully, Elrohir lifted them from the table and held them, handle first, out toward Legolas. "These are for you," he said, "a gift from Elladan and me, both as an apology and as a token of good luck. They are our hunting knives- light and easily concealed, and less awkward than a sword when you are pressed for space. They have finished off many orcs over the years, and I hope they will be as useful to you, in case you ever run out of arrows."

Legolas slowly took the knives in his hands, holding them out at arm's length and then close to his face, turning his wrists and watching as the etchings flashed and the silver shone. "I... Thank you," he murmured. "I don't know what else to say..."

Elrohir grinned. "And that says more than enough. I'm glad you like them."

"They're beautiful."

"They will serve you well." Elrohir watched a moment longer as Legolas admired the knives, moving them in a slow pantomime of battle. Then he asked, "Have you seen my father at all?"

"No," said Legolas, his voice quiet. "I've not seen him for days, and he wasn't in the Hall this evening with the others."

"Then you should go to him. He is in his bedroom, and he wants to see you once more before you leave."

Legolas' heart skipped in his chest. "Right now?"

"Yes, now." Squeezing Legolas' shoulder in reassurance, Elrohir led him back to the door. "I think you will find him waiting for you."

Legolas said another quick thanks to Elrohir, then started quickly down the corridor. As soon as he was out of sight, Elladan slid from his hiding place in the shadows of a niche in the wall.

"You speak too sweetly to him."

Elrohir smiled and took his brother's hand. "I have always found that coddling sweetness provides far better results than confrontation."

"I would have simply killed him."

"I know, but then all would be disrupted, and you would be punished, and I too would suffer by association. The company would leave for Mordor while we were trapped here under guard, and then we would have no chance of taking the Ring."

Elladan scowled. "I still want to kill him."

Elrohir held his sweet smile and lifted a hand to cup Elladan's cheek. "There will be time for that later. But we must follow my plan, and focus on what is important: the Hobbits, and the Ring. Now come," he said, pulling Elladan behind him as he walked, "we must return to the Hall before we are missed."

* * * * *

The door was open when Legolas came to Elrond's bedroom, and a pale yellow light shone from within. He stopped in the doorway, unnoticed, before hesitantly entering. "You asked for me?"

Elrond stood near the far wall facing the arcade windows. At Legolas' words, he turned and advanced toward him. "I wanted to say goodbye to you," he said, "before you left. And the Hall of Fire is such a crowded place tonight, I thought that perhaps we could talk better here." He smiled, and placed a hand on Legolas' arm, caressing gently downward. "You look happy."

"I am," Legolas replied.

The two were still and silent for a moment. Then Elrond pulled Legolas into welcoming embrace, twining his arms tightly and drawing their bodies together. Legolas lay his head on Elrond's shoulder, and lost his hands in the thick fabric of the back of Elrond's robe.

"I'm sorry," Elrond whispered to the soft blonde hair that stuck to his lips. "I'm sorry for letting our last meeting end as it did, and for being so foolish as to let you leave. Since then I have thought on nothing but your words."

"You will forgive me for saying them?"

"Forgive you?" Elrond grinned. "No, I think it is you who must forgive me, for needing such things to be said."

Legolas squeezed his arms tighter around Elrond's waist. "I might be able to forgive you. But I'm not sure if I should. You'll have to convince me." As he glanced intuitively toward the bed, a small irregularity caught his gaze, and a curious smile played on his face. "Your table is gone."

"What?"

Freeing himself from Elrond's embrace, he walked toward the empty place where the Ring's table had been. "Your little table- it's gone."

"Oh, that..." Elrond said. "Yes, I put it away. I had Glorfindel take Gil- ...my Ring elsewhere for safekeeping. And since the table held no other purpose but to house Vilya, I got rid of it. It was always in the way, anyhow."

"In the way?"

"Of everything. It was too strong a reminder of things past."

Legolas turned back to Elrond, who had come up closer behind him, and lifted his hands to gently touch the long plaits which fell down in front of Elrond's ears to his shoulders and chest. His fingers slid easily down the length of the hair to the unbound ends; he lifted these to his mouth and kissed the loose black strands, then moved his hands to rest on Elrond's neck. Though as he leaned to meet Elrond's lips with his own, Elrond turned aside.

"Legolas..." He placed his own kiss on the prince's cheek. "There are things I have to tell you."

He led Legolas to the bed, and they both sat, side by side. For a moment he was quiet, unsure of how to start. But he forced himself to speak at last, calmly and with simple words. "I told you just now that I thought for a long time on what you said to me. For days and nights I did nothing else. At first I thought on Gil-galad. And you and Elladan were both right- I have based my life too much on his presence, though he is gone, and it cost me. It cost me Celebrían, and also my children. They spent so much time away from here... I always wondered why..."

Legolas ran the back of his hand across the familiar blanket and remembered the night not long ago when he and Elrond had lain there together, though he tried to push the image from his mind and concentrate on Elrond's words.

"I don't think I'll ever be able to forget Gil-galad, not entirely. So there will always be some memory of him to influence me. But since my time with him is passed, and it will never return, I can try to keep the memories as just that- memories- and nothing more."

Again, Legolas tried a move to kiss Elrond, but again he dodged the attentions.

"No... I'm sorry, not now..."

Legolas still smiled, though less brightly than before and more unsure. "Why not?" His voice was unsure as well.

"Because..." Elrond's jaw tensed somewhat, and he could only look down at his hands, also tense, to find the strength to continue. "Because I thought a long while on Celebrían as well. I was unfair to her, for so many years. I loved her more than she would be able to guess by my actions. I still do. And though she is no longer here with me, she is not gone forever, and we will be together again eventually. Possibly very soon, if this quest to destroy the One Ring is successful. And then... I hope she gives me the chance to try again, and that we can live in the West as we should have here." He was quiet for several long seconds. "Do you understand why I say this to you?"

After a pause, Legolas quietly said, "Yes."

Elrond reached up and gently stroked Legolas' hair, meeting his eyes with a warm but sad gaze. "I will never lose affection for you, Legolas. And every now and then I know that thoughts of you will cross my mind, and I will remember with fondness our few moments together." Slowly, he pulled Legolas into another embrace. Legolas leaned against him heavily.

"I will remember you as well," Legolas said, pressing his face into the fabric of Elrond's robe to hide his burning eyes as Elrond played soothing caresses down his back. "Do you know why I go to Mordor?" he said.

"I have an idea."

"Elladan said that you would always compare me to Gil-galad, and that I would always come up short because he was a great hero and I've done nothing, and... and we both thought that if we were the one to destroy the Ring then... then you would..." His voice wavered and choked, and he said no more.

"You don't have to go," Elrond softly replied. "It's not too late. I could easily find someone else. Elladan or Elrohir would gladly take your place. You don't have to go."

Wiping his eyes and smoothing his hair, Legolas sat upright, with Elrond's arm still a comforting presence on his back. "No," he said, "I still want to go. I will still go for you, to see the Ring destroyed, so that your promise to Gil-galad will be fulfilled and you can go into the West to be with... to be with Celebrían... and be happy."

Elrond took Legolas' hand and offered a single, final kiss. His lips lingered on the pale skin, as did his breath, as he captured one last memory of Legolas in his mind, as he wished to remember him. "Thank you," he whispered.

The two were still then, and silent, and the only sound in the room was the faint music which came in through the windows. They listened. It was the singing from the Hall of Fire, the beautiful but melancholy voices of the Elves blending with bells and harps to share an ancient beloved song. It rang clear in the night air as if directed by the moon and stars, and the melody rose and fell in patterns, sometimes sighing, sometimes lamenting, but still always sweet.

Cólilvë undu, cólilvë amba.
Cólilvero taurenna ringa.
A nyéna i herun vanwa firala!
I sornë oacóla meldanya síra!

"I do not recognise the song," Legolas said. "What do they sing?"

Ar tauressë oromardë;
Sessë linga silala silmë.
Ar mardessë alta caima;
Sessë linga cullo aira.
A nyéna i herun vanwa firala!
I sornë oacóla meldanya síra!

"It is a song of sorrow in times of farewell," replied Elrond, "sung by those who are sending loved ones off to war. My children sing it tonight for Aragorn, and Bilbo for Frodo, and I will sing for you."

Ar i caimassë caita harni;
Sercerya síra arë ar mori.
Ar arcaimassë hára wendë;
Nirya síra mori ar arë.
A nyéna i herun vanwa firala!
I sornë oacóla meldanya síra!

"Now go join them," Elrond said. "It is your one last night of freedom and ease. You should spend it in celebration with song."

I caima undu na harwë;
"Alcaren Ardava" quén senna tencë.

Legolas stood, and his hand slipped from Elrond's as he walked toward the door.

A nyéna i herun vanwa firala!

"Goodbye," he said, and he closed the door behind him.

I sornë oacóla meldanya síra!

"Goodbye," Elrond repeated.

He did not move for several minutes.


Note: The Elvish song used above is my poor translation from the English "Corpus Christi Carol" by Benjamin Britten. A literal translation from the Quenya is below. The translation is quite different from the original text for three reasons: first, the limited Quenya vocabulary meant many substitutions, second, sometimes it was necessary to change words for the sake of rhyme even when I could get a correct translation, and third, I though I'd better remove all references to Jesus... Anyway, I highly recommend checking out the original song, which is quite beautiful.

We bearing down, we bearing up
We bear him into a forest cold
Lament for the lost lord fading!
The eagle bears my love away today!

And in the forest is a great hall
On it hangs shining silver
And in the hall is a great bed
On it hangs red gold
Lament ...

And in the bed lies a knight
His blood flows day and night
And at the bedside sits a maid
Her tears flow night and day
Lament...

Under the bed is a treasure
"For the Glory of Arda" someone upon it wrote
Lament...