A/N:  I remember back when I was young and on your birthday you were the one who had to bring treats for the others instead of receiving them. In that spirit, I offer this chapter as a present on my own birthday! My best present by far being the full size Legolas standup. Now to resist the temptation to nail it on the ceiling above my bed.

Please do enjoy!

Chapter Three

"What are you going to do?"

Elrond turned to his advisor, "They shall be allowed to stay, but only in the open fields nearest the small lake."

Erestor was a bit surprised by this response, "My Lord, that site is not very hospitable. It floods often and the biting insects would quickly come down upon them. Don't you think they could stay a little nearer to us?"

"No." Elrond spoke quietly, "They cannot be any closer to us."

Taking a step forward, the advisor pressed the matter, "Why? Are they a threat to us? If they are, perhaps Glorfindel should be informed and the men run out of Imladris."

Spinning around, Elrond grabbed the other elf's shoulders, "I don't know what they are, Erestor! Visions have come to me, visions of a great evil destroying all I hold dear." The Lord softened his voice and gently touched Erestor's cheek in the oldest expression of friendship for elves, "Killing all whom I care about."

"Why didn't you tell me of this?"

"How could I?" Responded Elrond tiredly, "One cannot run a great household when dreams and the whisper of a threat make one cringe. What kind of a land would Imladris turn into if I became so untrusting?"

No answer came.

The silence grew think until finally Elrond broke it, "Please fetch Milkya for me then leave us alone to talk."

"Yes, My Lord." By now Erestor was worried greatly. Very rarely did the Lord of Imladris have closed door meetings without even his chief advisor present, never did it happen with an elf who was a scout and nothing more. Not even a soldier, Milkya operated alone to gather his information. Any sort of partner or teammate could easily become a liability for him if that elf was captured and held as ransom for the scout to give away his position. What could Elrond possibly want with him?

In the early afternoon Glorfindel loved to workout. Under the shining sun he would do alternating exercises. His worry always being that too much sitting, such as those in long council meetings, would have him losing some of that valuable muscle.

He sparred with imaginary partners, not wanting his flow to actually be disrupted by a blade from an opponent.

In the middle of a very complicated move, one that required the most perfect balance, the unthinkable happened.

"Glorfindel!" Came the shout from down the fields. Inches away from ending up on his face, Glorfindel spun around and tried desperately to keep himself in check. Turning towards the voice, he gave that elf a most cold and devilish glare.

"What is it?"

Elrohir paused, his brother stopping short behind him in a very unsubtle way of keeping out of Glorfindel's all seeing eye.

"We wanted to join you is all." The twin responded, looking like he was going to bolt in a moment.

A smirk crossed the warriors face, "Ah, you wish to spar. Come then, both of you, you have put me in a most fighting temper just now." The sons of Elrond wondered if they were going to regret this little confrontation. "Come on," Glorfindel persisted, "Do not keep me waiting or my mood may darken even more. Grab your weapons!"

Elladan was the first to head towards the supply of weapons specifically for the sparring ring. They were a good quality, made especially for the ring so they did not have quite the sharpness of true fighting blades.

However, given the right stroke, could be quite dangerous and that fact was never far from the older twin's mind. Elrohir sat down on the hillside where spectators viewed the fights, hoping not to have to carry his twin off when all was said and done.

The might warrior stood ready and waited, and waited, and waited, "Elladan, you have to actually stand in the ring and not on the edge."

"Oh, right."

The men were cooking something. A game bird it looked like over the fire. In hushed voices they spoke in a wide range of topics. This close he could practically feel their breath, yet they had no idea every move they made was observed. Milkya stayed in the trees using his wonderful gift to keep from sight and the feel of instinct. His orders were clear. Lord Elrond had bid him to keep a constant watch on the men in the encampment and find out everything about them. To wait for something, but what his Lord could not say. Staying out of sight was pressed upon him and he must not initiate any type of contact. Do not speak to them again for they must believe they have been left completely alone by the lake without even an elvish guard in earshot.

Slowly Milkya crept, using the motion of the branches in the wind to his advantage.

His exceptional eyes were able to track their movements and at all times he kept a mental count of where each man was and what they were doing. Since there were only eight this task was not too difficult. It did beg another question though, that one being why Elrond would be so spooked by these few men so as to put them far away and place a spy in their midst.

Questions for another time, for now his mind needed to be in the here and now.

Leaning into the tree, the small elf used its tunnel effect to brighten the voices of the men that were hunched around the fire. In the last few moments they had begun to huddle together. Obviously, the meant to speak as a group and perhaps their topic would be their purpose in the land of elves. Milkya risked moving a bit closer so as not to miss a single word. Upon the cool breeze flowed their words.

"Do you think we have lost them?"

Paranoia floated up from the group, making the hairs on the back of the elf's neck stand on end.

"I believe so. We would know if we hadn't. Perhaps they seek to leave us alone?"

"Never!" Responded the first more loudly, but was quickly shushed by the others. "They will not stop hunting us. You saw how they reacted to seeing us. We are not safe here, not yet."

"Why do we not tell the leader our fears, perhaps they would help us."

There was a space for thought. "No, they would only turn us away and then where would we be? We must stay here for now and wait until the right moment to act then once our enemies blood has been shed we can find peace in this land."

Milkya almost gasped out loud. Who was this leader they spoke of? Whose blood did they seek?

More words came from the men, "The elves will pay for their encounter with us with their dearest blood."

Without waiting a moment longer Milkya sped back to Imladris.

TBC