Author's Note: A little more pensive than funny, but let's see how it goes. If Navaer Lalaith (hope that's right) reads this- sorry if you think I was laughing at you. Seriously I wasn't! And anyone know where Reona is?

"Elladan, where is your father?" Erestor called, poking his head in at the storage room used for healing supplies.

The oldest twin looked up, his mind clearly still adjusting to the sudden interruption. "Ada? I do not know. He went to the barracks I think. Something about a ridiculous new rite of initiation that almost injured one of the new patrol guards."

Brown eyes narrowed somewhat. "I see. Elrond should know better than to interfere with something like that. The soldiers will not appreciate his lofty opinions."

"Yes, well, the injured young elf is currently unconscious with a head wound, so I suppose he is willing to risk that," Elladan remarked, grinning as Erestor sighed and shook his head, "But you did not come to talk about soldiers. What is it? Has something happened?"

Erestor straightened and looked panicked. "Yes! The party from Mirkwood are on their way!"

"Mirkwood? But I thought..."

"So did I," Erestor protested, hands outflung in a gesture of despair, "And none of the bed chambers are prepared!"

Elladan looked incredulous and then burst out laughing. Pausing only long enough to put away the bottles he had been examining, the younger elf placed a soothing hand on his former tutor's shoulder. "Erestor, when your lover arrives, do you really intend to put him in an enormously luxurious bed chamber that he will not use for even one night of his stay here? And you know that Legolas uses the room next to Ada. Though the Valar know why; they never open that stupid door. As for the rest, they will not mind using the rooms in the west of the house, where the furnishings are simple but the views are beautiful."

Erestor blinked. "I see you mean to take over my job," the steward growled, annoyed at being caught in such a useless panic, "Perhaps you should go look for your father while you are at it. I shall go see to the rooms in the western guest wing."

Elladan watched him go with a smile on his face. It was truly amusing to see the normally composed, reserved elf become quite so flustered every time Thranduil was expected. He had always thought Erestor to be a rather cold creature, though capable of love in an undemonstrable way; it seemed he had been very, very wrong! And he was very glad to know that!

"Elladan, have you finished? Good! Now, we can..."

Elladan calmly put a hand over his father's mouth and shushed him. "Ada, the party from Mirkwood is expected to arrive any minute. I think you should go prepare to greet them."

Elrond's eyes widened to the size of dinner plates. "Now?" came the muffled question.

"Yes, now!"

Elrond spat a mouthful of Elladan's palm out of his mouth and nodded quickly. Muttering quickly to himself about wood elves who simply could not decide if they were coming or going, he stalked away to his chambers, hoping to wriggle his way into something a little less faded and old before his guests arrived.

Of course, Legolas would not have cared in the least if Elrond had come to meet them wearing a sack and covered in mud. He was simply too relaxed already by leaving behind his cares at the well-guarded borders of Imladris.

Aragorn rode beside him, a small smile flicking the corners of his lips at the thought of seeing his Arwen once more. Everything in Imladris reminded him of her, and if it did not, it reminded him of his foster father and therefore indirectly of her. From the trees to the snow to the small woodland creatures that strayed out of their path... Arwen's name chorused around him until he thought he would sigh like a callow youth in love.

Thranduil merely looked humorous. Not that he wasn't eagerly anticipating the reunion with his own lover, but his son and his son's friend were simply too good to be true. In a world jaded by too much war and death, it was nice to see Legolas and Aragorn almost bouncing for joy.

And there, rising from the midst of serenity, was the Last Homely House. Thranduil was not quite sure what had gifted such a magnificent structure that most annoying of names, but somehow it seemed to fit. Very few who ever came to that large door were barred or turned away empty-handed. It was the cynical side of him that thought that the folk of Imladris were by far too trusting to strive for such an impractical goal.

And then his eyes lit on the elf who seemed to embody everything that Imladris stood for- Erestor!

"Mae govannen, my Lord Elrond," he greeted absently, bowing to his host with polite sweetness.

Elrond almost waved a hand at him and told him not to bother, but he bowed as well, uttered a few quick words of greetings and then turned his back considerately to allow Erestor and Thranduil to exchange at least a glance in some privacy. As for the half-elf, his gaze was split between two... one of whose arm was in a sling.

"Legolas?" he folded his arms and waited for an explanation.

Aragorn quickly put his hands up in surrender. "I had nothing to do with it, Lord Elrond," he warned, "Tis all Legolas' fault."

Grey eyes looked to the man and then foster father and foster son embraced. "Mae govannen, ion nin," Elrond murmured affectionately, "And do not worry; I do not mean to lecture you this time."

"Thank the Valar," Aragorn sighed, rolling his eyes in mock relief.

Legolas snorted and came forward, bowing simply in respect. "My Lord," he muttered, blushing just slightly as he always did.

It was always like this with the two of them. They never really knew how to react and it would take an entire day for them to stop circling each other like wary lions, unsure whether to fight or mate. Usually, they ended up respecting the other's safe distance and would call good naturedly from their opposite ends of the room, ignoring whatever it was between them that everyone already knew of.

"Welcome, Legolas Thranduilion," Elrond smiled, "I believe your daughter is out at the moment, swimming with some friends of hers."

"Swimming? Is there someone with her, Elrond? Surely you did not send them alone?"

Elrond raised a slender hand to halt the flow of words. "There are two reliable elf-maidens accompanying them and Bronwe is expected back in a few hours. Rest easy, mellon nin, she will come back in one piece."

Legolas sighed and visibly slumped, gratefully turning his stallion over to one of his guards to take away. Usually he would look after his Ithildin himself; but now... well, there were other important things to do.

Silently, as the past eight years dictated, Elrond and Legolas went to the Elf Lord's study to talk over the time apart and the welfare of their daughter. Any who accompanied them were welcome to join, but Aragorn wisely slipped elsewhere, seeking Glorfindel to ask after news from Arwen. Erestor and Thranduil had long since disappeared into the garden.

"Well, Legolas? And what has befallen you this time?" Elrond began, sitting down and waving to the wounded arm.

"A warg," Legolas admitted, "It died."

"Good."

The two tried to think of something else to say.

"Does Imladris suffer from wargs? I mean, overmuch?"

"I think we have our fair share," Elrond considered, "But not, perhaps, as many as Mirkwood."

"Oh."

Then they sat there some more. Or would have, if a small but very determined tempest had not decided to slam through the door and attack Legolas.

"Ada!"

Legolas caught his daughter with his good arm, fell off his chair and began to laugh. "Bronwe," he replied in kind, hugging her tight and grinning fondly, "Ai, pen tithen! You are growing!"

"I grew out of my clothes," the elfling agreed proudly, "And Ada had to make me new clothes. And then I tore them!"

"Well, that is not very nice. But how are you, my Bronwe? Did you enjoy your swim?"

That was all the opening that Bronwe needed to begin to chatter, still sitting in her father's lap and smiling as if it were the first day of summer after a long, hard winter. Elrond left them quietly to their own devises, not wanting to intrude on the short time that they had together.

Bronwe looked up as the door closed behind him, a small frown wrinkling her nose. "Why did Ada leave?" she questioned plaintively, "Is he angry?"

Legolas sat up properly and thought about that. "No," he replied hastily, stroking the thick dark hair, "He isn't angry. He... has work to do."

Blue eyes blinked, long black lashes fluttering up and down. Clearly she didn't believe him. He opened his mouth to continue defending the unaware Elf Lord when a question forestalled him- "Why do you and Ada fight?"

Legolas stared, his jaw dropped at the very question. He had no idea where his daughter had ever picked up such an idea! Indeed, he and Elrond got on very well once the initial awkwardness passed from their meetings. The Elf Lord never interfered with him and let him do as he thought fit; in return Legolas accepted the boundaries of their relationship. Argue? Never!

"I have never argued with your Ada, Bronwe. Why do you think this?"

She fidgeted a little with his fingers, a habit he was startled to realize came from him, and shrugged in typical childhood evasiveness. "Gaerwen said that her parents lived together. And I heard," she went pink, "someone say that you and Ada didn't want me."

Legolas tightened his lips over the urge to call whoever had said that an uncouth ignoramus and wondered whether he should not give this to Elrond to handle. After all, the half-elf had had three children before this and he would know how to handle this. But the blue eyes were large and sad, slightly scared of what she might hear.

"We did not plan to have you," Legolas agreed slowly, "And we were very surprised when we found out. But we love you very much and so we were happy. As for not living together- well, I am the Prince of Mirkwood, pen tithen; I must protect my people."

"I know," she said hurriedly, "And Gaerwen said so too. Will you stay?"

"For your begetting day?" Legolas queried, "Well, naturally! That is why I came. I have a present for you." He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small, jewelled hair clip that he had been intending to give her the morning of her special day. But he suspected that his Bronwe needed it now, and not in two weeks. "This was my mother's. And when I was little, my Ada gave it to me. And now it is yours."

"Mine?" A finger reached out to trace the delicately carved flowers. "Really?"

"Yours." Deft fingers fastened it in her hair and then nodded. "I think it looks nice."

Bronwe spun for a while, looking for a place to see for herself. It wasn't that she didn't trust her Ada, but sometimes a girl just needed to see these things to believe them. "Glorfindel! I'll ask Glorfindel how it looks! Thank you, Ada."

Before another word was said, a loud kiss was planted on Legolas' cheek and then she took off, messy dark hair flying behind her as she pattered down the corridor. Elrohir came in some time later to find his friend lost in thought, still sitting on the floor with his arm in a sling and his brow uncharacteristically furrowed.

"Legolas? Is everything all right?"

Legolas looked up quickly and nodded to Elrohir. "I am fine; just tired, mellon nin."

"Are you sure? Because I was going to invite you to look at the new foals but if you desire to rest first, I am sure that would be fine." The Peredhil grinned mischievously as Legolas sprang gracefully to his feet and protested, demanding to be shown the foals instantly and threatening all kinds of dire violence if he was denied. "I knew you could not resist a good ride," Elrohir teased.