Disclaimer: The wonderful elves that I am using are all the property of Tolkien. Ergo, they do not belong to me

Erestor stalked through the halls of Imladris. All intelligent elves removed themselves from his path. If they had strained to hear what he was muttering, they would have heard snatches of "I can't believe they did that" or "Lord Elrond ordered me to what?" However, no one was foolish enough to get that close, so they all remained happily in the dark, oblivious to the anger that flew within the chief advisor.

Except of course for one elf. "Lord Erestor, whatever is the matter?"

"I am not in the mood to talk Lindir, I'm very liable to bite your head from your shoulders at this current moment in time."

"Really? That would be painful."

"Thank you, for stating the obvious."

"You're very welcome."

"That was meant to be sarcasm."

"I have assessed that fact."

There was only a slight mutter in response.

"Glorfindel seems to be in a very good mood this afternoon." Lindir was closely watching Erestor's reaction to this, so he didn't miss the barely perceptible twitch in Erestor's left eye.

Mummblegrumble He is so dead...mumblemumble.

"What was that?"

Erestor gave Lindir a glare. Lindir pretended not to notice and continued with his baiting of the chief advisor of Lord Elrond. "In fact, I do believe that he has been seen singing through the hallways with -- for some odd reason -- a bundle of clothes in his arms."

Erestor growled and continued his muttering about overly cheerful balrog slayers and Lords who worry too much about fashion. As well as advisors who end up drugged and locked in their rooms (not naming anyone of course).

Lindir smirked, "The robes were full of wonderfully bright colors! All sorts of oranges and reds and yellows and I think there was a smattering of absolutely beautiful pink flowers."

Erestor choked and looked at Lindir who continued to go on.

"The lace down the front of them would look spectacular on a dark haired elf -- you for instance -- as well as the bow in the back that--"

"THAT'S it!" Erestor burst out, his muttering mutilating into what looked remarkably (and alarmingly) like battle rage. "He CANNOT... Nay, WILL NOT dress me in lacy yellow robes with bright pink flowers! I won't stand for it!"

"Those robes are for you, Erestor?" Lindir asked, feigning surprise. "You would look absolutely stunning in them. All the elleths at the feast will be begging for a dance."

"That, is not my goal for the evening." Then, his eyes narrowed thoughtfully and he began to murmur softly to himself.

Lindir distinctly heard the words 'robes', 'wine' and 'rope' and he looked sharply at Erestor.

"Lindir?"

"Yes?" Lindir asked hesitantly.

"Do you know where I might find some rope or string?"

Lindir was beginning to feel slightly worried. "Probably the seamstress has some."

"The seamstress? I have been wanting a word with her."

Lindir bit his lip, realizing his mistake. "Yes," he said cautiously. "She also might be able to get you out of.... Erestor?" But the advisor was already heading in the direction of Glorfindel's rooms. "Erestor, that is the wrong way. The seamstresses have a place on the opposite end of the 'House."

"I am aware of that."

"Then why are you-" Erestor opened the door to Glorfindel's quarters "ah, Mellon nin is it really the best idea to go in Glorfindel's private rooms and his.. Er.. wardrobe?"

Erestor was now rifling through the balrog slayer's closet and Lindir was beginning to feel nervous. "Lindir, come here."

Lindir was now starting to regret ever approaching Erestor in the hallway. Let alone teasing him. He stepped up next to Erestor, praying that Glorfindel was doing something extremely important and wouldn't walk in on them in his rooms. "yes, advisor?"

"Tell me mellon nin, which of Glorfindel's robes do you deem the most ugly?"

Lindir stared at Erestor. Was he joking?

"No, I am not joking. I am not in the mood for... Jokes..." His gaze darkened.

Lindir then realized that he had spoken aloud. Hastily, he looked at Glorfindel's clothing and pointed out a dark brown robe with a wine stain on it. "That one."

Erestor looked pleased. "Yes, that should work nicely, thank you for your assistance."

"You are very welcome," Lindir replied automatically.

Erestor smiled sweetly at him. "Would you do me a favor, mellon nin?"

"Of course." Lindir silently cursed his over polite tongue, as he suddenly found himself with an armload of Glorfindel's clothing. He noticed Erestor had one as well.

"Help me carry this to my rooms." He began to walk, and Lindir, having no choice, followed.

Glorfindel, was in a very good mood. Erestor was going to be wearing the most colorful robes he could find, and He, Glorfindel, hadn't even gotten in trouble with Elrond for his actions earlier in the day! Well, He conceded, not that much anyway. He found himself at Erestor's rooms, shrugged, and pushed open the door without bothering to knock.

No one was in. Sighing, he placed Erestor's new colorful robes on the bed and left the room, not even noticing the lumps under the blankets.

"I think he is gone," Erestor said from behind the bathroom door.

"That is well." Lindir replied, emerging from under the covers. "If he had stayed longer, I believe I may have suffocated."

Erestor placed the clothing he carried under the blankets to join with the ones that Lindir had put there. "Now, Mellon nin, where was it that you thought I could attain some string?"

Elladan and Elrohir were heatedly arguing over something, as Thranduil stepped closer to listen. "Honestly Elrohir, how was it even possible that you did that?"

"Luck." Elrohir replied

"Most people would not consider it being 'luck'."

"I am half elven, I have a right to be clumsy."

"Ada is not clumsy, and you are more elven then him!"

"Perhaps he is very good at not showing it?"

"Ai, Elrohir." Elladan sighed, "It was a rug!"

"It was sticking up!" Elrohir defended himself.

"You tripped over a rug! I would hate to see how clumsy you would be were you mortal."

"I still maintain that I have talent."

Elladan rolled his eyes and Thranduil stepped in to their line of sight. "The feast will begin soon, so I suggest that the pair of you go to your own rooms to get ready."

Elladan was the first to recover from his heart attack, and bowed his head in thanks. "I thank you, King Thranduil for giving me a... haven so that I still remain alive and unmaimed by Glorfindel."

Thranduil smiled, as they closed the door he called out, "And Elrohir."

"Yes?"

"Try to avoid tripping up on any rugs in the future."

The look on Elrohir's face was worth to Thranduil what the Lonely Mountain was worth to Thorin. Priceless.

ELVISH TRANSLATIONS:

Mellon nin = My friend

Thank you for the reviews, and I hope that this chapter was long enough!