The feast had been over for many hours now, and most of the elves had retired to the Hall of Fire to celebrate the day in song and music. Well, bodily, at any rate. Bronwe herself was fast asleep, curled up in Legolas' lap with her blue eyes unfocused.

Every so often, one of the family would come by and check on her, mindless of the fact that Legolas was currently reflecting on the shade of her hair or the curve of her eyelash. As Elrond had suspected, the blond had turned into a rather obsessive father.

Thranduil was no better. But as Erestor strenuously objected to being forgotten in lieu of an elfling of eight, the Mirkwood King had curbed himself and set about placating his lover from the bad mood of the night before:

"I am telling you, melme..."

"You are trying very hard, and you are not succeeding," Erestor hissed, "Now stop talking and listen!"

Thranduil raised an eyebrow and almost smirked, but didn't. It never failed to amuse him that the cool, composed Steward had quite a sulky, tempestuous nature. It made him feel rather smug all things considered.

At Elrond's side, another drama was being enacted. One that was giving the Lord of Imladris a headache:

"Aragorn, it is a beautiful night. Would you like to take a walk with me?"

Right on cue, the human blushed and then looked fearfully to the maiden's father as if he expected him to swing a sword at him. "But- but Glorfindel has promised to play for us tonight. It would be a shame to miss him for he is really so..."

"Aragorn, Glorfindel has finished playing five songs ago!"

Elrond sighed and shook his head, a hand covering his eyes at that particular tone in his daughter's voice. It meant she was annoyed and frustrated and very likely to start doing serious damage to someone. As Aragorn was in her way and Glorfindel had taught Arwen to throw very sharp objects with perfect accuracy, Elrond hoped that Aragorn would stop being quite so nervy and just take her away.

The man didn't. And so Elrond's headache got worse- as did Arwen's temper- and Aragorn finally retired for the night with his ears ringing and the morbid belief that Arwen was going to replace him with Orophin of Lothlorien. Elrond watched him go with sad eyes, only to be joined by Legolas still cradling their tired little elfling.

"What is the matter?" Legolas demanded, sitting down in Arwen's recently vacated chair, "You look sorrowful."

"It is Aragorn," Elrond chuckled, "He did not take Arwen out to see the waterfalls by moonlight when she asked."

"Ah, I see. And did you happen to glare at him?"

"Me?" A slender healer's hand waved expressively in the air. "Would I ever do something so beneath my dignity as glare?"

"Perhaps I should withhold judgement," Legolas grinned.

Both turned to watch as a particularly beautiful voice lifted in song, telling the tale of two lovers who were sundered by a misunderstanding. Erestor simply sat still and turned white, and then red, and then white again as all eyes turned to stare at him in amusement.

"King Thranduil has a wonderful voice," Elrond remarked.

"Yes. Though you must admit he has a lot at stake," his companion giggled, "Did you know why Erestor was in a foul mood this morning?"

"I thought it due to the stress of tonight's celebrations."

"Nay! Not in the least! It seems that Ada made an unfortunate remark at an, ah, inopportune moment and Erestor was not best pleased. He slept in the library last night and his stiff neck has done nothing to improve his temper."

The two sniggered quietly under their breathes until Bronwe stirred, blinking hazy blue eyes as she looked around her in innocent bewilderment.

Elrond reached across and caressed the tip of one ear, whispering soothing sounds in the other until his daughter went back to sleep. Which was not quite the best thing he could have done, for the back of his hand was brushing gently against his former lover's chest and Legolas' blue eyes were fixed a little too heatedly on his face, the look reminding him very much of a hobbit who has seen breakfast after being starved for three days.

"Legolas, I think I will take Bronwe to bed," the Elf Lord said hurriedly.

"Sit still, melethron," the archer sighed, getting to his feet with the dark-haired little bundle still clutched in his arms, "You cannot leave just yet. I will put her to bed and then I think we need to talk."

Talk? Why did that make the half-elf feel very faint? Oh, of course! Because their second night all those years ago had begun with those fateful words- "My Lord, I think we need to talk". After which, there developed the incident with Legolas' tongue and his fingers....

Glorfindel looked up as his lord gave a long shiver while staring away into absolute nothingness. It was a most amusing sight. Indeed, quite a few of the Imladris elves had noticed, and quite a few were placing bets on whether the two most sensationalized couple would finally surrender to each other, or whether both would once more be frustratingly inhibited. So far, all the odds were favoured for a wild coupling in the garden but Glorfindel knew enough to snort and place his money on frustration and separate beds; both Elrond and Legolas were pig-headed that way.

Naturally enough, by the time Elrond finally gave up and excused himself, everyone was following his line of thinking. For the dark-haired Elf Lord had waited too long for it to be an arranged assignation and Legolas had not returned.

Which was something that Elrond did not quite understand either- why had Legolas not returned?

Striding quietly down the hallway of the family's rooms, he hoped that nothing had gone wrong with the still-healing wound the blond bore. But it had seemed fine in the morning, and Legolas' natural healing abilities were quite used to acting quickly and efficiently by now. Perhaps he had been mistaken?

He opened the door to his rooms and decided that he had indeed been mistaken. After all, Thranduil had been hitting a particularly high note at the time and Legolas' voice tended to be very soft in the midst of others.

He opened the door to his bed chamber and found that he had been right.

"Legolas?" He found to his immense frustration that he squeaked.

Apparently Legolas had heard it too for the blond smirked and shook his head. "Sit down, my Lord. I do not plan to seduce you... at least just yet."

Elrond tossed his companion a dirty look and entered, shutting the door behind him with a decided bang. Folding his arms across his chest, he waited for the conversation to begin. "Well?"

"I am not planning to assassinate you, Elrond, and I assure you I have bathed! Would you at least sit down? Thank you. I wanted to see how you were. No, do not glare; it is a perfectly legitimate question." Legolas glowed with supreme innocent confidence in himself and concern for his fellow elf. "Glorfindel has hinted his concerns to me too."

"Glorfindel is about to find himself exiled," Elrond growled, flouncing into a chair and then staring at the dresser as if expecting it to burst into flames.

"Elrond, you are behaving very badly," Legolas warned. Since that got him nothing more than a muttered oath, he sighed and gave up. Leaning forward on the bed he clasped his hands between his knees, letting all the care and worry flood his face and voice. "Melme, tell me what bothers you."

Elrond's head shot up, grey eyes intent and watchful. Few times would his former lover ever call him that, and fewer times yet would he allow himself to believe the endearment was real. He sighed too then, putting the masks away for another time.

"There is trouble brewing," he said at last, "Many have felt it. Evil is stirring once more in Mordor and I am worried. I recently received word from Mithrandir that he believes the One Ring has been found. Glorfindel was naturally of the opinion that we should ride out to seek it, and destroy it now before Sauron is ready, but I have cautioned him to wait. We are still divided on the matter."

"Oh," for some reason Legolas was not quite as panic-stricken as Elrond had expected, "I see. And who else have you spoken to of this?"

"No one," Elrond protested, not quite sure what his Prince was trying to say, "Do you imagine I would make a public announcement of this? Everyone would go into fright and life would come to a sudden halt!"

A broad but well-shaped hand waved 'everyone' away with an impatient sneer. "I do not care about that," Legolas huffed, "What I do care about is that you have known this for quite some time now and you have carried this weight all alone the whole time!"

Elrond blinked, clearly taken-aback by that. He had expected declarations of immediate action, or gasps of shock and horror and a breathless demand for more information; he had not expected to become the focus of the conversation. "I think you are missing the point," he said gently.

"No, I do believe that you are. Elrond, you cannot go your whole life with only Glorfindel to confide things to. For one because you will likely send poor Glorfindel mad, and for another because you will send yourself mad. No, do not look at me as if I were over-reacting. Elladan and Elrohir have given up trying to talk to you and Arwen asked me specifically to intervene. I imagine even Erestor might have said something if he were not so taken up with my Ada. But what is worse, Elrond, Bronwe is worried too."

Elrond gasped, a hand clapped to his mouth to stifle the sound. "She asked?"

"She wonders," Legolas corrected, "but she does not really understand."

Blue eyes gazed compassionately at the Elf Lord sitting across from them. The half-elf was clearly upset by his lack of control, supporting his head in his hands with his elbows on his knees. A quick motion of a slender hand and the mithril Circlet of Office went rolling into a corner. The ribbons quickly followed as the braids were undone and the butterfly hairclip might have followed if Legolas had not caught his wrist and pulled it to his lips.

Elrond looked down, perfectly still as he hovered between pushing the archer away and letting the caress continue. Eventually that soft mouth kissed its way over his fingers and he relaxed, letting Legolas take the clip from him.

"I am sorry," he whispered, "I should have been better prepared."

"It is not your fault. She is a bright child and she knows you too well. You know she senses these things; she always has."

The "I know" was so soft as to be non-existent. "Legolas. Legolas, stop. You must stop now."

"Why?" Those soft lips kept travelling, a warm tongue flicking out to catch the hard pad of the forefinger, curling greedily around the digit before letting go.

Elrond gulped and almost closed his eyes. But somehow that would have meant surrender so he kept them open, forced himself to watch so that he could find the strength to stop this. "Legolas, you must stop," he insisted.

Legolas said nothing, merely continuing in direct disregard to the order issued to him.

Elrond really didn't want to pull away. He spent the next two minutes telling himself that. But it didn't work. And when Legolas actually swallowed his middle finger and sucked... "Will you stop!"

The finger exited the succulent mouth with a disreputable pop and blue eyes blinked in the sudden in-rush of reality, the slender blond caught off guard by such a vehement denial. The Mirkwood Prince looked up, enquiring and hurt and oh, so very flushed and inviting.

"Legolas, you should leave now," Elrond prompted desperately, "In fact, you must be very tired. I advise you to get some sleep. Count me... I mean sheep! I- I will see you in the morning, when there are others."

Legolas found himself being grasped by the elbow and steered towards the door. He could practically smell the desire buzzing between them and could not understand what it was that made Elrond resist so hard. Though perhaps 'hard' was the wrong word to use in the context. It was more the lack of hardness, as far as Legolas was concerned; that and the lack of physical contact for eight years now was making him crazy!

"Good night," the Elf Lord finally called, shutting the connecting door behind him as he was shoved suddenly into his own room.

Legolas shook his head and came back to his senses just as the sounds of something heavy was dragged around on the other side. He gave up. Fighting that heavy oak table was not his idea of a fun way to spend the night. If Elrond didn't want this, then he didn't either. So thinking, the sulky Prince went to bed and made a vow to stay there.