Sorry about the wait, I got caught up in other things.  Interlude isn't up yet either, but I'm sure you can guess what happened by reading this.  Sindarin is in italics, the Common Tongue is just plain text.

I don't like Keladron.

Nor do I own LOTR, but someday I will, just waiting for that letter saying it's all mine. . .~disappears into fantasy world~

            Elrond/Thranduil, Elros/Gwyddia, and OFC, Glorfindel/Gil-galad, Keladron/Glorfindel, completely one-sided, Norn/Deleb mentioned.

When Elrond Met Thranduil

Gil-galad stormed into Keladron's room, furious at the man.  It was bad enough that Keladron had requested to speak with him in the middle of the night, but Glorfindel had been in the middle of helping him 'rest.'  He was not amused to say the least.  "You summoned me, Keladron?"  No titles of respect, just a biting tone that would have sent a lesser man or elf cowering in fear.

Keladron was no lesser man, just a stupider one.  He ignored the fact that Gil-galad was angry, dismissing it as mere sexual frustration, judging from the mussed state the elven lord was in.  "About Glorfindel . . ."

"What about Glorfindel?"  Gil-galad frowned.  Why would this man be thinking about his seneschal?

"Do you think he'd look better in white silk or blue?"  Keladron closed his eyes, picturing Glorfindel splayed out before him on some cushions, begging for Keladron to. . .

"Excuse me?!"

Keladron's eyes flew open.  Did he say that out loud?  "Do you think he'd be able to return to Gondor with my entourage?  Having an elf with his influence at my courts would help strengthen the bonds between men and elves, don't you think?"

Gil-galad frowned.  He had been thinking of sending an elf with Keladron for that purpose, but now he wasn't so sure.  If he did, it wouldn't be Glorfindel.  "Perhaps, but Glorfindel would be unable to come."  Gil-galad would pretend he hadn't heard the silk comment.  "He is too valuable here, responsible for much of Rivendell's security.  Perhaps a diplomat like Lindor or Erestor would be better suited for your court. . ."

Keladron frowned.  If he couldn't have Glorfindel, he didn't want anyone.  "Oh, well, I'll think about it.  Good night Gil-galad."

"Good night, Keladron."  Gil-galad managed to leave the room without throttling Keladron for even possibly thinking of Glorfindel dressed in silks.

Back in Gil-galad's room, Glorfindel was sprawled on the bed.  "What did he want, my lord?"

Gil-galad shrugged his robe off and slipped into Glorfindel's arms.  "He wanted you, at his feet, wearing nothing more then a leash in his hand."

Glorfindel's eyes widened.  "No!  Keladron actually. . ."

Gil-galad pulled Glorfindel closer and shook his head.  "He didn't actually say that, no, but he did ask if you'd look better in white or blue silk, and wished that you would return to Gondor with him.  Judging from his expressions and physical reactions, I drew my own conclusions."

Glorfindel shuddered.  "That man repulses me, and I hardly know him!"

"Just be wary around him; never let your guard down."

Winter over Rivendell flew by quickly.  Gil-galad spent his hours either trying to persuade Keladron to give some thought to the matter of an alliance or trying to hide from the man's prattling self-praise.  Glorfindel became harder and harder to find as Keladron became more and more enthusiastic in his pursuit of the warrior.

Elrond, Elros, and Thranduil spent their days much more enjoyably.  They often romped in the snow or caused mischief inside.  Gwyddia and Rosalyn grew more comfortable around them and often joined in.  Rosalyn had a clever mind for tricks, as it turned out.  The sight of Norn sputtering in anger as he arrived for dinner covered in feathers and sap would always be a highlight of their days together.

As spring came, the five grew even closer.  Rosalyn and Gwyddia were coaxed out of their heavy, ungainly dresses and into lighter breeches and tunics.  The elves taught them how to ride horses in the elvish style, astride and barebacked.  Gwyddia was a natural, but Rosalyn took her share of falls before she picked up on it.  Elros and Gwyddia fell more in love with each other, and Elros' poetry improved greatly, at least in Gwyddia's eyes.  He would never tell her he just took existing songs and poems and tweaked them.  She didn't need to know he didn't want his brother laughing at him again.

Rosalyn watched the relationships blooming around her and sighed, heavy-hearted.  She was glad her lady had found love with Elros, and did agree that Elrond and Thranduil made such a sweet couple, but wished for love of her own.  She longed to have someone whisper songs in her ear like Elros did with Gwyddia, or for someone she could just look at entranced for hours, like Elrond and Thranduil.  She dreamed of having someone who could see her as an equal, someone to jest with, like Gil-galad and Glorfindel, or someone to go on long sunset walks with her like Norn and his girlfriend Deleb did.

"Why so melancholy, Rosy?" Thranduil asked, setting his hand on her shoulder one night.  "It's spring!  You should be happy!"

Rosalyn smiled.  Thranduil's accent had faded drastically ever since Gwyddia and she started tutoring him.  He spoke the common tongue as well as Glorfindel did, and to thank them for their hard work he had started teaching them Sindarin as well.  Sindarin was no easy language, but here Rosalyn was better then Gwyddia.  "It is spring, Thranduil, and that is the problem.  Love is in the air, but not for me."

"No love for Rosy?  Why not?  Your speech is flawless, smooth and elegant.  Many an elf fall for another on their voice alone!  Just speak, and they will be drawn to you!"         

Rosalyn smacked Thranduil lightly.  "Stop teasing!  I'm being serious!  Besides, it's difficult to talk in Sindarin all the time."

"I'm sorry for teasing you, Rosy.  I never would mean to offend you."

Rosy sighed and leaned back, resting her head against Thranduil's chest.  "What's it like to be in love?  With Elrond?"

Thranduil's smile was bittersweet.  "It is both a blessing and a curse.  Elrond is amazing.  Every time I'm near him, he makes me feel like I'm the only person in the world who matters and my troubles are never too big or too small for him to care about.  I feel like I could never do anything that would make him upset.  I feel complete near him, as if he was a part of me that I lost long ago.  Yet I am the prince of Greenwood.  As eldest and only child of my father, I must have an heir for when I ascend to the throne, and I should be able to give Greenwood a queen.  Elrond can neither be a queen nor give me a child, and one day he will be Lord of Rivendell, stepping up when Gil-galad is gone.  Neither of us will be able to leave our duties for very long, so we will rarely see each other.  Knowing that I must one day give up his love is the greatest curse of all."

"So elves have love problems too.  Do you ever have arranged marriages?"

"Aye, we do.  In fact, as we speak, my father seeks to arrange a marriage with me and the lovely lady Faelrin."

"Faelrin?  That ditzy blonde from Lorien?"

"I know of no other."  Thranduil sat beside Rosalyn, looking quite forlorn.  "As it is, it's unusual that I have not already been wed.  Although I am still considered young for an elf, most royal heirs are wed before they turn one thousand.  I'm near two thousand five hundred."

Rosalyn hugged Thranduil.  "I'm sure everything will work out fine for you.  You're a wonderful person.  Your father can't possibly be so cruel as to force someone upon you when you love another."

"You don't know my father."  Thranduil stated, stiffening.  "You don't understand what he does – takes pleasure in doing."

"Thranduil?"

"I do not wish to speak on this subject any longer."  Thranduil's voice had gotten hard and cold, scaring Rosalyn.

"I'm sorry Thranduil, I didn't mean to upset you."

Thranduil relaxed, looking at Rosalyn apologetically.  "No, I'm sorry, Rosy.  I shouldn't have gotten upset.  It's, well, my father is not a pleasant person.  He delights in the pain of others, especially . . ."

"Especially you," Rosalyn finished, and Thranduil nodded, staring at his feet.  "Thranduil . . ."

"Don't apologize.  It's not your fault, and I don't want your pity."  Thranduil got to his feet abruptly.  "Good day, Lady Rosalyn," he said before stalking off.

Rosalyn stared after him for a moment, wondering how badly she offended him.  It took a while before she noticed his seat had been occupied by another, one who was staring at her.  She turned to see Elrond gazing at her with an unidentifiable expression.

"Don't mind him.  He isn't offended, nor is he mad at you.  He just really doesn't like to talk about his father.  Saying Oropher is cruel is like saying Elros likes Gwyddia.  It's true, but such an understatement."

Rosalyn shook her head slowly.  "Coming up on six months I've lived here, yet I still learn something new each day.  I never knew elves had such problems as child abuse like men do.  I always saw them as fair beings, lifted above the problems and cruelties men have.  I'm sad to see I was wrong."

Elrond shrugged.  "We are not as different as we seem, once you get to know us."

            Glorfindel was brushing Gil-galad's hair in Gil-galad's room when there was a knock at the door.  Setting the brush down, Glorfindel answered it, finding Elros standing outside, looking nervous.

            "Elros?  Come in.  How can we help you?"  Gil-galad patted the bed next to him.  Elros climbed up at curled up against the older elf like he used to when he was little.  Glorfindel resumed brushing Gil-galad's hair.      

            "Gilly?  How do I choose to be mortal?"

            Glorfindel stopped brushing and stared at Elros.  Gil-galad closed his eyes, having always hoped this day would never come.  "Mortal, Elros?  Are you sure you wish to become mortal?"

            "I'm sure.  I love Gwyddia, Gilly, and I can't imagine living without her.  This isn't an infatuation, I know what that feels like, and it's not this.  I want to be by Gwyddia for her life, growing old with her, not staying young and watching as age kills her slowly.  I want to bind myself to her.  I want to be mortal."

            "That may not be such a wise idea, Elros," Glorfindel said softly.  "You love Gwyddia, yes, but what about the others you love?  How would Elrond feel?  Would you choose Gwyddia over your brother?"

            "Elrond will understand.  He knows what it's like to be in love.  He won't begrudge me my happiness."

            "But Elros, Glorfindel does have a point.  You've only known Gwyddia for five months.  Maybe you should talk to Rosalyn, Elrond, and Thranduil first.  See how they feel.  Also talk to Gwyddia, see if she's willing to bind herself to you.  This isn't a decision to be made lightly.  What if it's the wrong one?"

            Elros scowled.  "You're just trying to not get me to bind myself to Gwyddia because neither of you can stand her father.  Well, she's not anything like her father!  Not at all!"

            "Elros, we're just. . ."

            Elros pushed himself away from Gil-galad and leapt off the bed.  "Shut up!  If you won't tell me how to become mortal, I'll figure it out myself!"  He ran from the room.

"Elros, no!"

~Crawler