"Elrond?"
The light tap on the door merely confirmed his suspicions that someone had entered the outer chamber. He nodded absently and told Legolas to enter. He would have preferred to level a cold eye at the brat and call him every kind of name there was, but unfortunately he was passed the age of such youthful indiscretion. Besides, his Bronwe was too young for such language.
"Is Bronwe awake?"
"Yes," Elrond smiled, glancing up to the awkward archer in order to put him at ease, "Would you like to take her? We have talked enough for now."
"Oh, really?" Legolas grinned, taking the child with a happy glow in his eyes, "And what, pray tell, has your Ada been filling your pretty head with? Let me guess... he has been discussing the various means of ensuring that the world does not come to a fiery end! Am I right? Yes? I am?"
The baby made a sound that might have been a squeal and might have been a snort. It sounded very rude, but Legolas was inclined to think it an invitation to be companionable. So he sat down beside the Lord of Imadris and turned her so that she could look to both parents. "Well, perhaps we should also let him into the pact we made the other day about taking him out a little more? Hmmm? Do you think he'll put up a fight? There might be violence involved! Ha! I think we can beat him together; yes, of course, we can!"
Elrond let out a snort very similar to that his daughter had made and stood up. "I do not know about the two of you, but I do not intend to fight," he replied with dignity.
Legolas chuckled and followed the Elf Lord from the room. The walk to the gardens was leisurely and carefully, neither adult elf willing to yet spoil the good of the day with the conversation they were bound to have.
Arwen stopped them on the way, cooed and tickled for a few seconds and had her attempts at baby-snatching foiled by a very efficient father. She went away soon after, sensing that her presence was an intrusion.
"Very well, my Lord Elrond, speak freely from the wisdom of your years," Legolas sighed, only half teasing when the grey eyes looked to him for the fourth time in contemplative silence.
"Do not mock my great age, you unprincipled scion of the House of Thranduil," Elrond replied in kind, more light humoured because he wanted to put his young companion at ease. His arguements would fail, he knew, if Legolas was to walk away feeling insulted and threatened.
It seemed to work, for a beaming smile of mirth was levelled his way. "I? Mock the Lord of Imladris? I would certainly never dare," Legolas smiled, "Come, my Lord. Be honest with me, as I was with you. There is something serious in your mind."
"Do not call me 'Lord', Legolas," Elrond sighed, "It does not seem suited for your lips, somehow. But yes, there is something serious in my mind. And I believe you know what it is. You still feel guilt, do you not?"
Legolas led them both to a stone seat in Elrond's private gardens and sat down. He looked to his child, his first child and at the rate his heart felt, quite possibly his last. "Look at Bronwe, Elrond," he said quietly, "Is she not beautiful?"
"She is, melethron. But what is she to do with a reclaiming of honour? She is too young to feel insult, and with great good sense on our part she will grow to learn that insult has never yet broken bones and never will."
"Elrond, do you not understand? She is my child. And yes, I sired her with you and many may not understand that. But those insults I will bear. What I will not, and cannot, bear is knowing that Aurief deliberately sought to hurt her. Valar forgive me, but I can even understand his quarrel with you! But Bronwe is just an innocent babe; how has she hurt him? Yet he sold her into slavery as surely as he did you."
Elrond sat still and turned that over in his mind. He could understand it; he had never not understood the sentiment. But he was a different person to Legolas and he could not comprehend striking out so viciously in anything but need. During the kidnap, yes. But when everything had been settled and his plans foiled? What good was there in nurturing hatred even in peace? And yet... could he really blame Legolas for that?
"I know it seems unfair just now," the Elf Lord began, "But Galadriel and Celeborn will find suitable punishment for him. He will serve a very long time for the good of others. And everywhere he goes, every elf he meets will know him for what he is- a liar, a cheat and an enemy to his own kind."
"Everyone?" Legolas frowned at the word as his daughter wrapped her fist in his blond braid, "Elrond?"
"I meant to speak with Celeborn about this. I am willing to make the trial public."
"Elrond!" Legolas clutched Bronwe tight in his arms as he was so shocked he was in danger of dropping her to the grass. "Melme, but that is ridiculous! You would be exposed to the gaze of all of elfdom!"
"And the rest of Aman besides- yes, I know," Elrond completed wryly. He reached out a hand to carefully pull the blanket away from Bronwe's face so that she wasn't closed in. "It will be one way to ensure Bronwe's future. I cannot do what I once did for Elladan, Elrohir and Arwen. I will not lie to anyone. At this moment, my children are so ashamed of their heritage that they will not speak to me of it. I will not let Bronwe go through that. She need never hide her birth from anyone. And at worst, I will merely be subject to insults behind my back."
"Of that I am certain; none would dare insult you to your face."
The half-elf's mouth twitched into the beginnings of a smile. It amused him, this fear people had of him, as if he were some unapproachable Lord of great wisdom and aloof character. Never yet to his knowledge had he turned anyone away friendless or without comfort... or had he?
"Legolas! Are you insane to bring a three week old babe out in the chill winter's air?"
"Ada!" Legolas squeaked and bounded to his feet. "Ada, do not creep like that. You frightened me!"
"Perhaps the famed Mirkwood archer had better look to his instincts and not let his guard down so much," the caustic reply came. The slender figure of the King of Mirkwood strode casually around the enormous bush and then stopped. "Lord Elrond."
Elrond sighed. It sounded to him as though Thranduil was telling himself that he should have expected to see the dark cloud in his perfect blue sky.
"I will leave. It seems I have interrupted a conversation."
Elrond got to his feet and courteously invited the King to take a seat with them. "Nay, King Thranduil. You disturb nothing. And I believe Bronwe would be delighted to see you again."
Legolas winked at the elf lord as his father smiled at the child and played silently with her for a while. "She likes you," the Prince remarked.
"As I do her," Thranduil admitted, his voice softer than usual.
Elrond swallowed a smile and tucked the incomplete conversation away for another private time. Watching the father and son together made him realize he was not a part of the garden and should withdraw. "Excuse me," he murmured, "I should return to the house."
Thranduil looked up with detached concern in his blue-grey eyes. "Are you quite well, my Lord?" he questioned.
"I am fine. There is just work..."
"But surely you cannot be working so soon after the child!" Thranduil was no stranger to governing a land and its people. More than Legolas he knew the stress involved in such a task. And he had also been told by his distraught son of the ill-health the rescued Elf Lord had been in when found.
Elrond blushed a little and straightened himself as if unconsciously preparing already for some kind of sting to be directed his way. "I am perfectly able to resume my duties," he intoned blandly, "It has been three weeks."
Thranduil's eyes narrowed and his face set. Standing, he handed the baby silently to his son and then proceeded to glare at the half-elf with a disapproving eye. "Lord Elrond, when my son told me of the mess he was in, I was less than happy. When he mentioned you were carrying his heir, I was in a fair way to be furious. But this child," he pointed a finger to Bronwe, "Is my grandchild. Whatever it means to you I do not presume to know. But I do know you cannot give Bronwe the care she needs if you yourself are not well! I demand that you rest!"
Elrond blinked.
Legolas burst out laughing.
The baby let out a sound that seemed to be agreement.
"Am I understood?"
"I think you had better leave it there, Ada," Legolas chuckled, handing the baby back. "I think you just sent our gracious host into shock!"
"Well, it is about time, then, that someone did," Thranduil grumbled, "You have advisers, my Lord; think to use them some time."
Elrond blinked again, still dazed.
"Elrond? Melme, are you all right?"
Elrond broke from his trance as Legolas tapped his cheek and peered worriedly into his eyes. He raised a hand to his head and quickly grabbed at his fleeting dignity. "Thank you for your concern," he murmured, "I will... heed it... as far as I am able."
"Ha!" Thranduil snorted, "I do not believe you."
"You never have."
"Elrond!"
"My apologies, Legolas."
"I'm sure Ada didn't mean..."
"You know perfectly well I did, Legolas!"
Legolas gave up. He resigned himself to playing the mediator between the two most frustrating elves since Erestor and Glorfindel stopped aiding the twins in playing tricks on each other. And what was more, he mused, he couldn't very well take either side or he would only succeed in worsening things. Suddenly he realized that silver-grey eyes and grey-blue eyes were both directed to his face.
"I'm sorry," he started, "Did someone say something?"
"I was attempting to gain your father's help in persuading you that a reclaiming of honour was unnecessary," Elrond growled, a dark look flung to his guest.
Thranduil wasn't fazed; returning it with a glare just as dark. "And I was attempting to point out that you already have my support."
Legolas stifled a smile and plastered a look of innocent sorrow on his face as he turned to scowling Lord of Imladris. "I am afraid that this is true," he owned, shaking his blond hair in mock regret, "I spoke with my father on this subject just last night. He deems it a good idea."
"A good idea?" Elrond was stunned, looking from father to son with sarcastic eyes. "How exactly is it a good idea? You will expose your son to the same scrutiny that my family will be cursed with once the trial brings this- this situation to light!"
Thranduil sighed. "I have never shied away from contentious issues, my Lord; you know that. And love is love. Whomsoever my son chooses to give his heart to is a choice I will support."
"Even a Peredhel, a half-elf who you cannot abide for his perceived part in the death of your father?" Elrond had not meant to bring up bad memories, and he did so very gently so as not to seem disrespectful to the dead.
Legolas put a hand up over his eyes, afraid to see the blood that would surely now be spilt to the snowy ground. But all that happened was that Thranduil looked down to his granddaughter and shrugged. "It changes not the way I feel. But my son's happiness will and must come first. Would you do less for your children?"
Elrond thought to Arwen and shivered. Though he still fought it, he knew that there would come a time when he would relent to her union with Aragorn. "I would not," he agreed, sitting down beside the King though careful to keep a distance, "But I still do not condone Legolas putting himself in danger."
"Legolas, perhaps now might be the time to explain as you explained to me," Thranduil commented, never taking his eyes off his whining grandchild, "Come, my Bronwe, it seems you desire to be fed. I assume that that is not your job, Lord Elrond?'
Elrond had been staring at Legolas blushing before him and remembering a time before when he had licked those delectable ear tips until the younger elf had turned just that highly amusing shade of pink. Therefore he was not prepared to be addressed on so ridiculous an issue. "No," he said absently, "Ask a member of my staff to direct you to the chamber just beside my rooms on the right." Then he remembered something. "Oh! Ask Erestor! He will know which room I mean."
Legolas waited only until his father had disappeared from sight before taking his place. Elrond turned a little to face him and adopted an innocently enquiringly look on his face. Neither noticed the two who were walking behind the bush and so ducked down to listen before they could be seen.
"I- I told you that I could understand Aurief's quarrel with you," Legolas began softly, "And I do. You bore his children and... he was never allowed to be their parent. But that does not mean that I do not feel anger for what he did."
"Legolas..."
"No!" A pale finger rough with callouses- and how well Elrond did remember the feel of that particular finger- touched his lips with the lightest of brushes, warning him to be quiet. "I told you also of my feelings for you. Again, I do not expect you to return them. But I ask that you let me feel. For if I must pretend that I do not feel as I do, even to myself, I will not be able to. And a part of that is to protect you, and protect what you stand for. He was going to sell you into slavery, melme, and he hurt you. He caused you pain and that... that is unforgivable. I almost killed him before but Glorfindel stopped me."
Elrond sighed and brought his hands up to cover his face. The look of hope and desperation in his young lover's eyes was going to be his undoing one day; he knew that with a tired certainty. And he wanted very much to say that he felt the same, but he could not. It would not work for them. There was too much difference!
Behind the bush, Arwen put a hand to her mouth lest she sigh with frustration at the foolishness of the two males. Aragorn just looked uncomfortable and amused. He could think of plenty of ways that his friend could be made to blush over that tender little speech. He doubted he'd ever do that to Legolas, however; the elf knew too much about his own romantic speeches!
"Legolas, I am... honoured," Elrond winced at his lack of creativity, "to know you believe this. But are you not a little young?"
Arwen groaned into her hand and shut her eyes. Aragorn winced at his foster father's senselessness.
"Very well, Lord Elrond, if that is the way you think, I believe this conversation is over," Legolas snapped, his cheeks burning with embarrassment. He bounded lightly to his feet and made to stalk off in an insulted temper but a muffled curse sounded half a second before strong fingers wrapped themselves like lightening around his wrist and tugged.
He found himself pulled down to the Lord of Imladris' lap in very indecent and highly inelegant haste. Still spitting out the mouthful of hair he had swallowed, he found his chin taken in a hard grip and grey eyes boring into his.
"You," Elrond ground out, "Are the most infuriating elfling it is my destiny to meet."
Legolas could not resist. That was exactly what the Elf Lord had said before the first time Legolas had kissed him. They had been arguing in the gardens the morning of his return and Elrond had insulted him in just the same way. Legolas had just laughed, made giddy by forcing the renowned Lord of Imladris to loose his temper, and had surged forward and kissed him.
And with a quiet smile of apology, he did the same again. The kiss lasted longer, however, than that first one. For one thing because the dark-haired half-elf was not struggling away with fear in his grey eyes, and for another because it turned into one of the long sweet kisses that they had grown used to sharing before the mayhem over babies and slavers. And neither really wanted to let go.
Arwen sighed, clapped her hand back over her mouth with fear that she had been too loud and leaned happily enough against Aragorn's shoulder. Aragorn for his part was trying to reconcile the two people he had never seen in any kind of sexual light with the two people kissing like lovers in the middle of a garden, never mind how private.
By the time the two broke apart, they were breathing hard and very certain that they shouldn't continue unless they wanted to do so in a bedroom. And Elrond was already questioning the wisdom of starting something like this all over again when he had sworn to himself to never share a bedroom with Legolas again under any circumstances.
The Prince must have seen something in his lover's face because he smiled and shook his fair head, dropping one last feathery kiss on the swollen lips. "Nothing more need happen," he whisper, "And I do not expect any declarations from you. But I will ask to reclaim your honour and the honour of our child."
Elrond had felt everything in their kisses to know better than to argue. Had their roles been reversed and had he been younger, he would no doubt be doing the same. "I do not want you hurt. You are precious to me, even if I cannot give you what you want. Will you at least stop it at first blood?"
"No," Legolas said decisively, "To the death. I will probably not kill him. But I will die trying."
Elrond shivered and leaned forward to touch foreheads with the elf, as if trying to touch minds through the action. "And what if you do die?" he begged, "What about Bronwe? How will I tell her when she asks?"
"You will bring her up anyway! Even were we to bond, I could not live in Imladris; not while Mirkwood is still so beset. And I will win. Do not fear that! I would kill Herdir too, but I fear giving Lord Celeborn sleepless nights."
The two laughed quietly between themselves and then Elrond let Legolas go, rising to walk with him to the House; not touching him in any way but still feeling the sweetly bitter taste of a last kiss on his lips.
The light tap on the door merely confirmed his suspicions that someone had entered the outer chamber. He nodded absently and told Legolas to enter. He would have preferred to level a cold eye at the brat and call him every kind of name there was, but unfortunately he was passed the age of such youthful indiscretion. Besides, his Bronwe was too young for such language.
"Is Bronwe awake?"
"Yes," Elrond smiled, glancing up to the awkward archer in order to put him at ease, "Would you like to take her? We have talked enough for now."
"Oh, really?" Legolas grinned, taking the child with a happy glow in his eyes, "And what, pray tell, has your Ada been filling your pretty head with? Let me guess... he has been discussing the various means of ensuring that the world does not come to a fiery end! Am I right? Yes? I am?"
The baby made a sound that might have been a squeal and might have been a snort. It sounded very rude, but Legolas was inclined to think it an invitation to be companionable. So he sat down beside the Lord of Imadris and turned her so that she could look to both parents. "Well, perhaps we should also let him into the pact we made the other day about taking him out a little more? Hmmm? Do you think he'll put up a fight? There might be violence involved! Ha! I think we can beat him together; yes, of course, we can!"
Elrond let out a snort very similar to that his daughter had made and stood up. "I do not know about the two of you, but I do not intend to fight," he replied with dignity.
Legolas chuckled and followed the Elf Lord from the room. The walk to the gardens was leisurely and carefully, neither adult elf willing to yet spoil the good of the day with the conversation they were bound to have.
Arwen stopped them on the way, cooed and tickled for a few seconds and had her attempts at baby-snatching foiled by a very efficient father. She went away soon after, sensing that her presence was an intrusion.
"Very well, my Lord Elrond, speak freely from the wisdom of your years," Legolas sighed, only half teasing when the grey eyes looked to him for the fourth time in contemplative silence.
"Do not mock my great age, you unprincipled scion of the House of Thranduil," Elrond replied in kind, more light humoured because he wanted to put his young companion at ease. His arguements would fail, he knew, if Legolas was to walk away feeling insulted and threatened.
It seemed to work, for a beaming smile of mirth was levelled his way. "I? Mock the Lord of Imladris? I would certainly never dare," Legolas smiled, "Come, my Lord. Be honest with me, as I was with you. There is something serious in your mind."
"Do not call me 'Lord', Legolas," Elrond sighed, "It does not seem suited for your lips, somehow. But yes, there is something serious in my mind. And I believe you know what it is. You still feel guilt, do you not?"
Legolas led them both to a stone seat in Elrond's private gardens and sat down. He looked to his child, his first child and at the rate his heart felt, quite possibly his last. "Look at Bronwe, Elrond," he said quietly, "Is she not beautiful?"
"She is, melethron. But what is she to do with a reclaiming of honour? She is too young to feel insult, and with great good sense on our part she will grow to learn that insult has never yet broken bones and never will."
"Elrond, do you not understand? She is my child. And yes, I sired her with you and many may not understand that. But those insults I will bear. What I will not, and cannot, bear is knowing that Aurief deliberately sought to hurt her. Valar forgive me, but I can even understand his quarrel with you! But Bronwe is just an innocent babe; how has she hurt him? Yet he sold her into slavery as surely as he did you."
Elrond sat still and turned that over in his mind. He could understand it; he had never not understood the sentiment. But he was a different person to Legolas and he could not comprehend striking out so viciously in anything but need. During the kidnap, yes. But when everything had been settled and his plans foiled? What good was there in nurturing hatred even in peace? And yet... could he really blame Legolas for that?
"I know it seems unfair just now," the Elf Lord began, "But Galadriel and Celeborn will find suitable punishment for him. He will serve a very long time for the good of others. And everywhere he goes, every elf he meets will know him for what he is- a liar, a cheat and an enemy to his own kind."
"Everyone?" Legolas frowned at the word as his daughter wrapped her fist in his blond braid, "Elrond?"
"I meant to speak with Celeborn about this. I am willing to make the trial public."
"Elrond!" Legolas clutched Bronwe tight in his arms as he was so shocked he was in danger of dropping her to the grass. "Melme, but that is ridiculous! You would be exposed to the gaze of all of elfdom!"
"And the rest of Aman besides- yes, I know," Elrond completed wryly. He reached out a hand to carefully pull the blanket away from Bronwe's face so that she wasn't closed in. "It will be one way to ensure Bronwe's future. I cannot do what I once did for Elladan, Elrohir and Arwen. I will not lie to anyone. At this moment, my children are so ashamed of their heritage that they will not speak to me of it. I will not let Bronwe go through that. She need never hide her birth from anyone. And at worst, I will merely be subject to insults behind my back."
"Of that I am certain; none would dare insult you to your face."
The half-elf's mouth twitched into the beginnings of a smile. It amused him, this fear people had of him, as if he were some unapproachable Lord of great wisdom and aloof character. Never yet to his knowledge had he turned anyone away friendless or without comfort... or had he?
"Legolas! Are you insane to bring a three week old babe out in the chill winter's air?"
"Ada!" Legolas squeaked and bounded to his feet. "Ada, do not creep like that. You frightened me!"
"Perhaps the famed Mirkwood archer had better look to his instincts and not let his guard down so much," the caustic reply came. The slender figure of the King of Mirkwood strode casually around the enormous bush and then stopped. "Lord Elrond."
Elrond sighed. It sounded to him as though Thranduil was telling himself that he should have expected to see the dark cloud in his perfect blue sky.
"I will leave. It seems I have interrupted a conversation."
Elrond got to his feet and courteously invited the King to take a seat with them. "Nay, King Thranduil. You disturb nothing. And I believe Bronwe would be delighted to see you again."
Legolas winked at the elf lord as his father smiled at the child and played silently with her for a while. "She likes you," the Prince remarked.
"As I do her," Thranduil admitted, his voice softer than usual.
Elrond swallowed a smile and tucked the incomplete conversation away for another private time. Watching the father and son together made him realize he was not a part of the garden and should withdraw. "Excuse me," he murmured, "I should return to the house."
Thranduil looked up with detached concern in his blue-grey eyes. "Are you quite well, my Lord?" he questioned.
"I am fine. There is just work..."
"But surely you cannot be working so soon after the child!" Thranduil was no stranger to governing a land and its people. More than Legolas he knew the stress involved in such a task. And he had also been told by his distraught son of the ill-health the rescued Elf Lord had been in when found.
Elrond blushed a little and straightened himself as if unconsciously preparing already for some kind of sting to be directed his way. "I am perfectly able to resume my duties," he intoned blandly, "It has been three weeks."
Thranduil's eyes narrowed and his face set. Standing, he handed the baby silently to his son and then proceeded to glare at the half-elf with a disapproving eye. "Lord Elrond, when my son told me of the mess he was in, I was less than happy. When he mentioned you were carrying his heir, I was in a fair way to be furious. But this child," he pointed a finger to Bronwe, "Is my grandchild. Whatever it means to you I do not presume to know. But I do know you cannot give Bronwe the care she needs if you yourself are not well! I demand that you rest!"
Elrond blinked.
Legolas burst out laughing.
The baby let out a sound that seemed to be agreement.
"Am I understood?"
"I think you had better leave it there, Ada," Legolas chuckled, handing the baby back. "I think you just sent our gracious host into shock!"
"Well, it is about time, then, that someone did," Thranduil grumbled, "You have advisers, my Lord; think to use them some time."
Elrond blinked again, still dazed.
"Elrond? Melme, are you all right?"
Elrond broke from his trance as Legolas tapped his cheek and peered worriedly into his eyes. He raised a hand to his head and quickly grabbed at his fleeting dignity. "Thank you for your concern," he murmured, "I will... heed it... as far as I am able."
"Ha!" Thranduil snorted, "I do not believe you."
"You never have."
"Elrond!"
"My apologies, Legolas."
"I'm sure Ada didn't mean..."
"You know perfectly well I did, Legolas!"
Legolas gave up. He resigned himself to playing the mediator between the two most frustrating elves since Erestor and Glorfindel stopped aiding the twins in playing tricks on each other. And what was more, he mused, he couldn't very well take either side or he would only succeed in worsening things. Suddenly he realized that silver-grey eyes and grey-blue eyes were both directed to his face.
"I'm sorry," he started, "Did someone say something?"
"I was attempting to gain your father's help in persuading you that a reclaiming of honour was unnecessary," Elrond growled, a dark look flung to his guest.
Thranduil wasn't fazed; returning it with a glare just as dark. "And I was attempting to point out that you already have my support."
Legolas stifled a smile and plastered a look of innocent sorrow on his face as he turned to scowling Lord of Imladris. "I am afraid that this is true," he owned, shaking his blond hair in mock regret, "I spoke with my father on this subject just last night. He deems it a good idea."
"A good idea?" Elrond was stunned, looking from father to son with sarcastic eyes. "How exactly is it a good idea? You will expose your son to the same scrutiny that my family will be cursed with once the trial brings this- this situation to light!"
Thranduil sighed. "I have never shied away from contentious issues, my Lord; you know that. And love is love. Whomsoever my son chooses to give his heart to is a choice I will support."
"Even a Peredhel, a half-elf who you cannot abide for his perceived part in the death of your father?" Elrond had not meant to bring up bad memories, and he did so very gently so as not to seem disrespectful to the dead.
Legolas put a hand up over his eyes, afraid to see the blood that would surely now be spilt to the snowy ground. But all that happened was that Thranduil looked down to his granddaughter and shrugged. "It changes not the way I feel. But my son's happiness will and must come first. Would you do less for your children?"
Elrond thought to Arwen and shivered. Though he still fought it, he knew that there would come a time when he would relent to her union with Aragorn. "I would not," he agreed, sitting down beside the King though careful to keep a distance, "But I still do not condone Legolas putting himself in danger."
"Legolas, perhaps now might be the time to explain as you explained to me," Thranduil commented, never taking his eyes off his whining grandchild, "Come, my Bronwe, it seems you desire to be fed. I assume that that is not your job, Lord Elrond?'
Elrond had been staring at Legolas blushing before him and remembering a time before when he had licked those delectable ear tips until the younger elf had turned just that highly amusing shade of pink. Therefore he was not prepared to be addressed on so ridiculous an issue. "No," he said absently, "Ask a member of my staff to direct you to the chamber just beside my rooms on the right." Then he remembered something. "Oh! Ask Erestor! He will know which room I mean."
Legolas waited only until his father had disappeared from sight before taking his place. Elrond turned a little to face him and adopted an innocently enquiringly look on his face. Neither noticed the two who were walking behind the bush and so ducked down to listen before they could be seen.
"I- I told you that I could understand Aurief's quarrel with you," Legolas began softly, "And I do. You bore his children and... he was never allowed to be their parent. But that does not mean that I do not feel anger for what he did."
"Legolas..."
"No!" A pale finger rough with callouses- and how well Elrond did remember the feel of that particular finger- touched his lips with the lightest of brushes, warning him to be quiet. "I told you also of my feelings for you. Again, I do not expect you to return them. But I ask that you let me feel. For if I must pretend that I do not feel as I do, even to myself, I will not be able to. And a part of that is to protect you, and protect what you stand for. He was going to sell you into slavery, melme, and he hurt you. He caused you pain and that... that is unforgivable. I almost killed him before but Glorfindel stopped me."
Elrond sighed and brought his hands up to cover his face. The look of hope and desperation in his young lover's eyes was going to be his undoing one day; he knew that with a tired certainty. And he wanted very much to say that he felt the same, but he could not. It would not work for them. There was too much difference!
Behind the bush, Arwen put a hand to her mouth lest she sigh with frustration at the foolishness of the two males. Aragorn just looked uncomfortable and amused. He could think of plenty of ways that his friend could be made to blush over that tender little speech. He doubted he'd ever do that to Legolas, however; the elf knew too much about his own romantic speeches!
"Legolas, I am... honoured," Elrond winced at his lack of creativity, "to know you believe this. But are you not a little young?"
Arwen groaned into her hand and shut her eyes. Aragorn winced at his foster father's senselessness.
"Very well, Lord Elrond, if that is the way you think, I believe this conversation is over," Legolas snapped, his cheeks burning with embarrassment. He bounded lightly to his feet and made to stalk off in an insulted temper but a muffled curse sounded half a second before strong fingers wrapped themselves like lightening around his wrist and tugged.
He found himself pulled down to the Lord of Imladris' lap in very indecent and highly inelegant haste. Still spitting out the mouthful of hair he had swallowed, he found his chin taken in a hard grip and grey eyes boring into his.
"You," Elrond ground out, "Are the most infuriating elfling it is my destiny to meet."
Legolas could not resist. That was exactly what the Elf Lord had said before the first time Legolas had kissed him. They had been arguing in the gardens the morning of his return and Elrond had insulted him in just the same way. Legolas had just laughed, made giddy by forcing the renowned Lord of Imladris to loose his temper, and had surged forward and kissed him.
And with a quiet smile of apology, he did the same again. The kiss lasted longer, however, than that first one. For one thing because the dark-haired half-elf was not struggling away with fear in his grey eyes, and for another because it turned into one of the long sweet kisses that they had grown used to sharing before the mayhem over babies and slavers. And neither really wanted to let go.
Arwen sighed, clapped her hand back over her mouth with fear that she had been too loud and leaned happily enough against Aragorn's shoulder. Aragorn for his part was trying to reconcile the two people he had never seen in any kind of sexual light with the two people kissing like lovers in the middle of a garden, never mind how private.
By the time the two broke apart, they were breathing hard and very certain that they shouldn't continue unless they wanted to do so in a bedroom. And Elrond was already questioning the wisdom of starting something like this all over again when he had sworn to himself to never share a bedroom with Legolas again under any circumstances.
The Prince must have seen something in his lover's face because he smiled and shook his fair head, dropping one last feathery kiss on the swollen lips. "Nothing more need happen," he whisper, "And I do not expect any declarations from you. But I will ask to reclaim your honour and the honour of our child."
Elrond had felt everything in their kisses to know better than to argue. Had their roles been reversed and had he been younger, he would no doubt be doing the same. "I do not want you hurt. You are precious to me, even if I cannot give you what you want. Will you at least stop it at first blood?"
"No," Legolas said decisively, "To the death. I will probably not kill him. But I will die trying."
Elrond shivered and leaned forward to touch foreheads with the elf, as if trying to touch minds through the action. "And what if you do die?" he begged, "What about Bronwe? How will I tell her when she asks?"
"You will bring her up anyway! Even were we to bond, I could not live in Imladris; not while Mirkwood is still so beset. And I will win. Do not fear that! I would kill Herdir too, but I fear giving Lord Celeborn sleepless nights."
The two laughed quietly between themselves and then Elrond let Legolas go, rising to walk with him to the House; not touching him in any way but still feeling the sweetly bitter taste of a last kiss on his lips.