Title: Hunter and Prey, 2/? Author: Rune Dancer, runedancer@hotmail.com Rating: R Paring: That would be telling. Disclaimer: I own nothing, Tolkien is God, yadda, yadda. Warnings: Slash. Archiving: Anyone who wants it, just let me know. A/N: This has nothing to do with my previous Unspoken story arc, although some of the characterizations are eerily similar. Updates will be haphazard, but I promise to finish it.

* * *

Rumil draped himself across Elladan's lounge and looked up at him through long blond lashes. "You aren't going to call it off, then?"

"Absolutely not! Why, did you want . . . "

"No! Elbereth forefend! He's been insufferable ever since last year. If he should claim the prize again . . .," Rumil shuddered, Elladan assumed for effect, but given his expression it could have been genuine.

"No one can stand him," Orophin agreed, blowing sweetly scented smoke in Elladan's direction. Haldir had started his brother on the Hobbit's vice a few years ago, after discovering the plant on a trip he took to Gondor for Lord Celeborn. Rumil hadn't taken up the habit, but Orophin was already becoming a nuisance with it despite the fact that the Lorien delegation had only arrived that morning. Normally, Elladan would have thrown a pillow at him, or at least opened a window pointedly, but he needed to keep the brothers happy. They were, after all, an integral part of his plan. "I'll bet we could've convinced half the wood to help us, prize or no prize, if you hadn't insisted on such secrecy," Orophin continued, and then his expression brightened. "I imagine we still could, if you like. I'll bet any number of people would rather take Haldir down a peg or two than try for the prize. It isn't as if any of us stand a chance anyway, what with Glorfindel competing."

"And exactly why is Imladris' seneschal contending for Mirkwood?" Rumil shot Elladan a sharp look. "Everyone's speculating, you know--it's the talk of the hunt so far."

Elladan pasted an innocent look on his face and gave what he hoped was a convincing shrug. "You'll have to ask him. All I know is that half the guards want to lock him in the cellars until the contest is over, and the other half to beat him senseless, rather than let him take the prize for Mirkwood."

Rumil looked thoughtful. "Glorfindel in a dim cellar for the better part of a day?" He grinned, "Maybe I'll volunteer to, er, guard him, just so he doesn't stub his toe in the dark. Would there be restraints involved, at all?"

Elladan smiled. "Just make sure you leave a will."

Rumil sighed and slouched further down on the settee until he was almost prone. "Just a thought," he muttered.

"So, my friends, shall we get down to business, then?," Elladan asked, smiling brightly at his co-conspirators. Ah, yes. This would be a hunt to remember.

* * *

One week to go, one week to go, one week . . .

"Elrohir."

"Aughh!"

"I'm sorry!" Elrohir turned abruptly to find Erestor clutching his chest with one hand while he gripped the stone wall behind him with the other. His eyes looked huge in the dimness. "I didn't mean to startle you." He looked almost as surprised as Elrohir felt.

"That's all right." Elrohir was normally not the nervous type, but the past week had been hard, and the damned chant that had taken up residence in his mind lately wasn't helping things. Realizing that Erestor's eyes must have adjusted to the cellar's darkness by now, he hastily hid the length of chain behind his back, but apparently was not quick enough.

"He'll never fall for it, you know," Erestor told him, almost mournfully.

"For what?" But even as he said it, Elrohir knew it was no good. He was hopeless at this sort of thing. After a week of planning, he had been unable to come up with anything better than following a joking remark he'd heard one of the guards make about the cellars. Successfully chaining Glorfindel down here was, he had to agree, about as likely as, well, as Elladan being able to deal with Haldir. The only thing that made him feel better was the knowledge that they would go down together.

"I, er, could help, you know."

"What?" Elrohir decided that he must be even worse off than he'd thought. He was obviously having auditory hallucinations. This was not good.

Erestor glided soundlessly forward and gripped the arm with the chain in it. "I think we may have a common goal," he said, so softly as to almost count as a whisper. "At least, Elladan seemed to think . . . "

"He TOLD you?!" Elrohir was incensed. They had both promised faithfully not to tell a living soul. The only chance he had of coming out of this with a whole skin was if Glorfindel didn't know it was he who'd ruined things. And if Elladan had told Erestor, he might as well have told father, too, because the two of them were as thick as thieves.

"He doesn't know," Erestor commented, with that annoying habit he had of seeming to read minds. "I haven't told anyone and your brother told only me. He just seemed to think you might need . . .," he broke off with a sigh. "Look Elrohir. We agree on one thing. Glorfindel must NOT win. Correct?"

"Well . . . ," amazingly enough, Erestor looked deadly earnest. Could it be? Was he actually getting an ally? A broad smile appeared on Elrohir's face and a weight seemed to lift from him. He was able to breath deeply again for the first time in days. It must be true; Glorfindel wouldn't have sent Erestor to deal with this for him. If he'd heard anything, he'd have taken care of it personally. Elrohir tried to ignore the little shiver that thought caused. "You mean it? You'll help, and you won't tell Ada?"

Erestor smiled, a little grimly. "It's a promise. Now," he said, taking his former charge's arm companionably. "Let's go have a chat somewhere a bit more comfortable, shall we? And we'll see what we can do about our mutual problem."

* * *

"Blackmail is such an ugly word, Glorfindel." Legolas admonished as he finished threading a pale blue ribbon through his last braid and tied it off. Usually he eschewed excessive ornamentation, but apparently he was feeling festive. "And if you want someone to blame, try father. He won't mind--he's used to it."

"Did he really forbid you, or is this just a ruse to give you a chance to torment me?"

"Oh, he forbade it, all right. Of course, that was after a friend of mine finished telling him about all the debauchery that traditionally follows the big event--with the winner taking center stage."

"And he believed that?!" Glorfindel looked at him in amazement. "I always heard Thranduil was a clever one."

"He is," Legolas smiled smugly, "but so am I. And my friend is VERY persuasive."

"I'm surprised he let you come, then."

"Oh, he didn't. I am supposedly safely enmeshed in a tricky diplomatic exercise in Lorien." Legolas laughed at his companion's expression. "Oh don't worry. It's being seen to--and by one of our best diplomats at that. I'd never let father down."

Glorfindel refrained from rolling his eyes. He had, at one time, been convinced that Elladan had no equal as a mischief-maker, but was quickly revising his opinion. "So, what do you have in mind now? Some new way to make me look bad, I suppose?"

"Certainly not!" Legolas appeared amused. "I meant what I said--I want you to win."

"And that's all there is to it? You, who won the contest easily just two years ago, believe your only chance of success now to be a substitution?"

Legolas laughed, a joyous, tinkling sound that was quite infectious. "Oh, Glorfindel, you are a treasure!" He smiled as he drew a silver blue robe over his head. "I can almost understand why . . .," he cut off his sentence abruptly.

"Why what?" Glorfindel watched as Legolas' head emerged from the silken folds, blue eyes dancing merrily. "Oh, nothing." He grinned at Glorfindel's suspicious look. "Will you just relax? Trust me, as long as you go through with this, I'll forget all about your little slip up. No one need ever know."

Glorfindel glowered at him, but he knew when he was bested. One damned night of drinking with Elladan and Legolas after last year's hunt, and one stupid, drunken admission, and now one who was little more than an elfling was blackmailing him. It served him right. "You know I have no choice," he grumbled.

"That's the spirit!" Legolas clapped him on the back and went humming from the room, obviously very pleased with himself. Glorfindel sighed and rubbed his eyes. It was going to be a very long week.

* * *

Haldir stared suspiciously around the huge courtyard. He had schooled his expression to look as if he was merely admiring the decorations for that night's feast, but in fact, he was sizing up the competition. As they were doing to him, he thought smugly. Oh, he knew they were plotting, all of them hoping to think up a way to knock him out of contention, but it wasn't going to work. He could practically taste victory, and no one was going to take it from him. Why, Legolas was so worried about being shown up again that he wasn't even taking part this year! Haldir wondered how many others would drop out in defeat over the next week. He smirked to himself; he hoped there would be at least a few left to compete against, or it would all be so dull.

"Enjoying the festivities?" Haldir glanced over his shoulder to see one of Lord Elrond's sons regarding him with an odd glint in his eyes. Which one was this? He could never tell them apart.

"I wasn't aware that anything was due to begin until tonight," Haldir replied easily.

"The formal entertainment will begin at nine, after the feast," the unknown Peredhil replied, just as casually, "but the real fun has already started." He leaned closer. "They're all watching you, you know."

Haldir smiled smugly. "I know."

"We expect quite a hunt this year--and as far as I'm concerned, you're the star attraction."

Haldir glanced suspiciously at his companion, but saw nothing except an open, friendly face. He preened slightly. It was good that someone could appreciate his skill; the Valar knew his brothers couldn't swallow their jealousy long enough even to listen to the full account of how he'd won the prize last year. Since neither of them had come even close to his total, one would have thought they'd have been more attentive, if only to learn something. "You're too kind, er . . ."

"Elladan."

"Yes, of course." Haldir felt a little foolish, but then, the two brothers did look so much alike. At least Elladan didn't seem offended. "Will you not be participating, then?"

"Oh, no," Elladan smiled at him charmingly. "We know these woods too well, you see, my brother and I. Father feels that it would give us an unfair advantage."

"But surely, your guards must know them nearly as well?"

"Oh, no." Elladan trailed a finger along the carved railing of the terrace. "I don't think anyone, even father, knows the grounds and woods as we do. And besides," his expression became somewhat coy, "someone had to hide the prize, didn't they?"

Haldir looked eagerly at his companion. "You mean you . . . "

Elladan smiled at him. "That's right," he looked around, then continued in a lowered voice when it appeared that no one was watching. "Don't tell anyone, but we hid it just this morning, before the last delegation arrived. I must say, it's in a far more difficult position than last year. I told Elrohir that we'd made it too difficult, but he did insist . . . "

"But," Haldir's head was spinning. He had not known before who hid the prize, but had assumed it to be Lord Elrond. To actually be talking to the one responsible . . . of course, it wasn't as if he needed any hints to help find it, but if Elladan should accidentally slip up . . . well, as they said, all's fair in love and war. "Isn't it a bit risky," he asked casually, "hiding it so early? What if someone stumbles across it?"

Elladan laughed. "Oh, I don't think that's very likely," he remarked. "It's too chilly to want to get that wet!" He stopped and clapped a hand to his mouth, looking guiltily over it at Haldir. "Just forget I said anything," he pleaded after a moment. "I really must cut down on the wine with lunch."

"Not at all," Haldir assured him genially. "In any case, with the amount of water in Imladris, that hardly narrows the field much, does it?"

Elladan looked relieved. "You are kind," he said with feeling, and there was that odd glint again. Haldir smiled as Elladan moved off to greet more of his family's guests. He only hoped that he didn't give anyone else any hints. Perhaps he should keep an eye on him, just to make sure he didn't slip up again. After a moment's contemplation, Haldir wandered off in Elladan's general direction, as if by chance.

* * *

How does he DO that?, Elrohir wondered, watching through the window as his brother drew Haldir around the courtyard as if on leading strings. He sighed and turned back to the task at hand, which was anything but comfortable. Curse Erestor, why had he volunteered him for this?

"I want to make it clear that I am truly insulted," Glorfindel was saying. "I gave my word--certainly that should be sufficient."

Elrohir cringed, but did not move from his chair in front of the door. "I . . . I'm sorry, Glorfindel," he offered, "but Erestor said most particularly . . . "

"Yes, yes," Glorfindel ran a hand over his hair, which glimmered in the lamplight as if made of spun gold. Elrohir shook his head to clear it. Stay focused, he told himself sternly. "I know this is not your fault, Elrohir," his companion was saying. "I shall, however, be having very strong words with your father and Erestor upon their return."

"They shouldn't be long," Elrohir said, as much to reassure himself as Glorfindel. Ever since he had begun to realize that his interest in his old tutor was somewhat more than casual, Elrohir had made a point never to be alone with him. In most cases, that had been easy, as meals were taken communally and there were usually servants bustling about or guests lounging around the common rooms of the house. Glorfindel also stayed busy with his many duties, and was often gone inspecting the borders and overseeing the guards for days at a time. This was the first time, then, in decades that Elrohir could remember spending any length of time alone with him. So far, Glorfindel's ire over being "imprisoned," as he termed it, while Elrond and Erestor hid the prize somewhere on the grounds, had preoccupied him. Elrohir could only hope it would continue to do so until the others returned.

"So, Elrohir," Glorfindel sounded strangely hearty suddenly. "How shall we pass the time, then? They could be gone for hours."

Elrohir desperately tried not to blush, but it was difficult considering the image that had immediately come to mind. "Er," he stared at Glorfindel helplessly, praying that his power of speech would soon return.

"Chess, cards, books? Or would you prefer a nice conversation?" Glorfindel cocked his head to the side and looked thoughtful. "Do you know, I can't remember the last time we had a good chat, can you?"

Elrohir just shook his head, cursing Erestor with every imprecation he knew. He had just started on the dwarvish ones--his personal favorites as their harsh, gutteral sounds were perfect for swearing, when Glorfindel moved his chair up alongside and smiled down at him, apparently taking his silence for acquiescence. "So, what shall we talk about?"

Elrohir stared at him, his mind suddenly blank even of curses, and his tongue feeling twice its usual size. Oh, Elbereth, he thought desperately, help! A fire, a hailstorm, anything to distract him, but the only sounds to be heard beyond the windows were the faint clink of glasses and the light laughter from the feast.

"So, I hear you're getting quite good with accounts. Erestor says you're a great help to him."

Elrohir breathed a sigh of relief. Accounts, yes, he could talk about those. A nice, safe, boring subject unlikely to bring up any untoward thoughts . . .

"Of course," Glorfindel continued, "I told him that he couldn't expect to monopolize you forever, as you have other talents that should be cultivated. A stint with the guards would do you good, for example, such as your brother just completed. I hear he made a number of friends, and probably learned a good deal, too."

Oh yes, Elrohir thought, and the Valar only knew what he'd taught them . . . certainly he'd been flush with cash since coming back from the borders. Apparently, the guards had not understood the term "card shark."

" . . . settling down."

"What?" Elrohir realized that he'd lost the thread of the conversation somewhere.

"Well, naturally you're too young at the moment for that to be a worry. You've plenty of time to get in some training before some pretty maid ties you to her side."

Elrohir choked, but things only became worse when Glorfindel moved closer to pat him solicitously on the back. "Are you all right there, Elrohir?" Elrohir nodded, afraid that if he opened his mouth to say anything, he'd tell Glorfindel exactly what he thought of the idea of settling down with a nice maid--and what he'd like instead. Something of his thoughts must have shown in his eyes, however, for Glorfindel's expression softened. "Oh, I didn't know it was like that. Who was she, then?"

"What?" Elrohir felt his head spin. This conversation felt like it had lasted forever. Where was Erestor?

"Well, obviously someone upset you." Glorfindel patted him affectionately on the leg. "Don't worry about it, Elrohir, it happens to the best of us."

"Did it ever happen to you?" As soon as he'd said it, Elrohir wished he'd bitten his tongue off instead. This was NOT the type of conversation he needed to be having with Glorfindel. And damn it, why didn't he remove his hand? It felt warm and heavy on his thigh, and was making it impossible for him to think clearly.

Glorfindel squeezed his leg slightly and Elrohir almost choked again. His tutor's attention was apparently somewhere else, however, for his expression was far away as he nodded. "I doubt if there's anyone who hasn't loved, well, less than wisely, at some point."

"Who was she?" Elrohir wondered if there was some way to gag himself before his wayward tongue said anything else. It seemed to have a mind of its own tonight.

"He, actually," Glorfindel remarked absently, before mercifully getting up and walking to the window. Strangely, it still felt as if that warm hand rested on his thigh, Elrohir thought blankly, and then what his tutor had said sunk in. No, he argued with himself, surely he'd heard wrong. He couldn't possibly be that lucky.

"I think it will rain later," Glorfindel commented, looking up at the sky. Elrohir sat immobile, as if glued in his chair.

Listen, he told himself sharply, you're being ridiculous. Even if he DOES prefer males--and you COULD have heard wrong--that doesn't mean he'd want anything to do with you. You're just going to embarrass yourself. So stop it and follow his lead; talk about the weather or accounting some more, anything except . . . "Who was he, then?" Elrohir seriously considered tightening his scarf until he strangled.

Glorfindel shrugged, and did not turn back from the window. Instead, he hitched one thigh onto the sill and seemed content to watch the feast from a distance. "No one I can talk about," he finally answered, after a long pause.

Drop it! Elrohir lectured himself. Do NOT ask . . . "Was it a long time ago?" Auughh!

Glorfindel sighed, and for a while Elrohir thought he might not answer. Then he said, very low, "Not so long, no." There was something very melancholy in his demeanor as he sat there, his shoulders uncharacteristically slumped, that made Elrohir feel all funny inside. He wanted to go and put his arms around him, to smooth the lines in his brow and to say something witty, or even one of Elladan's terrible jokes, just to see him smile . . . He gripped the seat of his chair and held on for dear life. Luckily, although his tongue seemed to have been possessed by some impish entity, at least his body was still under his control. He could not afford any scenes like that.

"I'm sorry. He must be an idiot." Elrohir decided that he was going to get very drunk as soon as Erestor got back.

Glorfindel shot him a surprised look, but seemed to take the comment all right. "You're kind to say so. But I'm afraid . . . I'm somewhat older than he is, you see . . . ," he trailed off, looking glum, and a sudden bolt of anger flashed through Elrohir. Who could possibly be stupid enough to turn down Glorfindel? Could it be one of the young guards? Perhaps an elf not much older than himself? He could feel his stomach tightening in response to the very idea that someone, probably someone he knew, had captured Glorfindel's heart and then been moronic enough to throw it away. While he would cherish it forever, he thought passionately.

"Well, whoever it is, he's an utter fool!" Elrohir didn't even try to choke back his response that time. He was too incensed to care what he said. "I can't imagine anyone turning you down!"

Glorfindel looked surprised, and then to Elrohir's stunned amazement, he blushed. At first Elrohir thought it was a trick of the light, but no, his companion's cheeks were definitely rosier. Elrohir felt warm and almost dizzyingly happy at the thought that he had somehow made Glorfindel so pleased. Just as he was about to speak again, however, the door behind him opened, almost knocking him from his chair.

"Oh, my apologies, Elrohir." Erestor peered into the room and grinned at him. "You did take me literally, didn't you? Just as well not to trust him--he's tricky."

"Well, you won't find this one easily, Glorfindel!," Ada commented, looking over Erestor's shoulder. "We've hidden it in a fiendishly clever spot, if I do say so. Now come to the feast you two, before it's all gone. Those Lorien elves know how to eat."

Elrohir followed the two elda out of the room and down the hall, but he wasn't listening to their usual banter. All he could see was the curiously vulnerable look that had appeared on Glorfindel's face when he had complemented him. Turning with another question hovering on his lips, Elrohir was surprised to see only an empty corridor behind him. Glorfindel was no where in sight.

TBC