The 'Life in Imladris' Arc – stories focused on the inhabitants of Rivendell.
Deception and Heartbreak

Disclaimer: This fictional story is completely made up for fun and no profit is made from it. Any similarities to real events or other writings is purely coincidental.

Please leave me a review or constructive criticism. I want to be a better writer. Translations and thank yous are at the end of the chapter.

A/N: Three is going up as well tonight, since I didn't post yesterday.

Chapter Two

Morning found Erestor writing hastily on a scrap of parchment, trying to determine exactly how many settings should be prepared for the feast in four days. Elrond sat a few feet away at his own desk, answering a letter from the Dúnadan troops' leader, Adkar. Lindir stared at the wall across from him, not feeling like making copies of any more documents.

"Lindir," Elrond spoke at length, bringing the younger elf's attention to him. "Is something ill with you?"

"No, milord," Lindir muttered hastily and picked up his quill to begin the boring task. Elrond frowned and exchanged a worried look with Erestor, who had turned to observe Lindir as well when Elrond asked his question. "I am anxious about the feast, as well," he lied, hoping to divert their attention back to the more pressing matter.

Neither of the older elves believed him, but Elrond was prevented from responding by a sharp knock on his door. "Enter," Elrond called. The door opened and Isil, one of Glorfindel's younger warriors, entered.

"My Lord Elrond," he greeted, bowing slightly at the waist. "Lord Erestor, Lindir," he acknowledged the other two before turning back to Elrond. "A forward scout from Mirkwood has arrived, claiming an escort is only a few hours behind him."

"What?" Elrond demanded, standing up. The messenger started and took a step backward.

"That is all I know. Lord Glorfindel sent me to tell you."

"Thank you," Elrond ground out. "You may go," he dismissed the young warrior, who wasted no time tarrying in the suddenly tense study.

"Damn him and his atrocious timing," Elrond fumed, stalking around his desk towards the door. Lindir made himself as small as possible in the corner and even Erestor stood hesitantly. There was clearly no love lost between the realms of Mirkwood and Imladris, especially since the death of both Oropher and Gil-Galad during the Last Alliance, and with the feast coming quickly, Elrond did not have the patience for any ploys of Thranduil's.

"I will have rooms prepared," Erestor spoke. "You should find Celebrían and go to greet your guests."

"I will. The twins are with Glorfindel today," Elrond said, mostly to himself. "Send a messenger for them," he instructed Erestor. "Tell them to meet me at the main courtyard, hopefully somewhat presentable. I do not even know who has come from Mirkwood. I do hope it is Thranduil himself, so I can tell him personally what I think of his unannounced visits."

A crowd had gathered in the courtyard to see the mysterious strangers from Mirkwood. The wood-elves generally kept to themselves and it was rare to meet one outside of the borders of their great forest. Many also knew of the tension between Thranduil and Elrond and had decided that if Elrond did not like the wood-elves, then they must be an inferior race of elves and worthy of their scorn. Unfortunately, they did not know the entire story behind the conflict.

The party from Mirkwood was small. The leader was an imposing character, with dark brown hair and steel blue eyes. He exchanged short words with Elrond and handed the half-elf a folded parchment. Elrond took the paper but did not read it immediately, instead focusing his attention on the slight elf dismounting from his brown mare.

"Look, it is Legolas," Elladan whispered to Elrohir. Neither of the twins had met the only child of Thranduil, but they knew of him from the curt letters the Mirkwood king sometimes sent to their father. The prince of Mirkwood was fifteen years their junior, with pale blonde hair pulled back into intricate braids and large blue eyes which scanned the gathered crowd nervously.

"How long will you be staying?" Elrond asked the Mirkwood elf.

"Only until you reply to the king's message, my lord," the elf replied gruffly. "Our presence is greatly needed in Greenwood."

"Please allow me to show you to our guest rooms," Erestor said, stepping forward. Of all the elves in Imladris, he probably disliked Thranduil the most, but he had been a diplomat for nearly all of his life and could pretend otherwise easily.

"Why do you think he is here?" Elrohir asked his older brother, keeping a watchful eye on the slender prince. He didn't sense anything dangerous about the blond, who stood close to his horse with a quiver on his back and a dagger strapped to his waist, eyeing the elves around him with distrust. Rather, he thought the prince looked rather lost and scared.

"I do not know," Elladan replied.

"Well, why do you not stop questioning each other and introduce yourselves?" Celebrían asked from behind them. She pushed them forward with a hand on each of their backs. Slowly, the family approached Legolas, who watched them warily. Elrohir noticed the small flicker of curiosity that joined the anxiousness in the younger elf's eyes as he looked between the identical twin half-elves.

"Mae govannen, Prince Legolas," Celebrían greeted, nodding her head slightly.

"Mae govannen, Lady Celebrían," Legolas replied quietly. "Lords Elladan and Elrohir." The twins were pleased that he had heard of them as well.

"We are honored to have you as our guest, Legolas," Celebrían continued with a soft smile. She had no quarrel with their woodland kin and loved any child who crossed her path as if he or she was her own.

"Thank you," Legolas nodded, though all three could tell he didn't believe her. How could he when every other elf in attendance looked upon him as if he was an orc, desecrating their beautiful refuge by simply standing there? He had spent enough time around his father's court to know that one usually said what was considered proper and hardly ever what they truly felt.

"Come and I will show you to a guest room. Roquen will make sure your mare is given the best care," Celebrían smiled. Legolas look extremely unhappy to be leaving his horse's side, but the rest of his escort had already parted and the stable hand was waiting expectantly to lead Iest away. With a deep breath he took Celebrían's extended hand and allowed her to lead him towards the Last Homely House, the twin sons of Elrond trailing behind them.

tbc…

please review.

Translations:
mae govannen (S) – "well met"

Thank yous: (Dandelion Chapter 18)
Seeing-spots – Thank you for all of your reviews over the course of my posting of this story. When I first wrote out Lindir's new surname, my thoughts echoed Elladan's exactly. I almost left it out, but then realized the humorous advantage to it.

Andromedia – Once again, thank you for all your reviews to the story. Unfortunately, Severence isn't completed yet, but it will probably go up next… even before D&H is finished being posted.

Arian – Thank you as well for all your reviews. I'm glad you liked the interchange between Lindir and Elrohir. I know it was strange of me to post Dandelion first, but it was the first one finished, and the story that inspired the whole arc, so alas, it was first.

Thank yous: (Deception & Heartbreak Chapter 1)
Arian – I hope you enjoy this story as much as the first. I agree with you, Lindir needs a big hug.

Seeing-spots – I feel bad for him too… Lindir is quickly becoming one of my favorites characters, despite having about one line in The Fellowship of the Ring.