Disclaimer: All characters and places are property of the Tolkien estate. I am not making any money from this story.

Thanks to everyone who reviewed, especially those who are picking it up again – I feel extremely guilty about leaving it for so long. Hopefully time is more on my side now and I will be able to follow through until the end.

Special thanks to Arlindor for spotting a stupid mistake, which I've rectified!

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Legolas breathed a sigh of relief as he spotted the end of the mountain path. It had not been a peaceful crossing, even going through the High Pass. The goblins that still lurked in the caves of the Misty Mountains were more active than usual and the prince had had one or two close calls. He was grateful to be on flat ground again, barely two days' travel from Imladris.

Imladris. Legolas could not honestly say he was looking forward to his stay. He held no illusions about his likely reception. The Noldor elves looked down on their 'less enlightened' cousins and if truth were told, the Sindar thought even less of the Noldor. Legolas was not anticipating an easy few days.

His thoughts passed once again to the young human that Elrond had allegedly adopted. If rumour were true, this 'Estel' was in fact one of the last of the Dúnedain, the heir to Gondor's long-empty throne, but the boy himself was unaware of it. Both Legolas and Thranduil were curious as to the human's precise identity and Elrond's reasons for taking him in – one of the reasons why the Mirkwood king had agreed to these negotiations in the first place.

A small smile came to Legolas' lips as he thought back to when Elrond's original letter had arrived.

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"Adar? The patrols have returned from the southern border . . . Adar? What is that?"

Thranduil was stood by the window, his brow creased in a frown. He held a letter in a tight grip, but Legolas could not make out its contents.

The king turned to his son. "This, Legolas, is a beautifully crafted letter from the Lord of Imladris, no less. He expresses 'regret that our realms have been so long estranged' and would like to invite us 'for informal discussions, with a view to forming an alliance and possibly profitable trading links'!"

"How will you reply?" asked Legolas, though he already knew the answer. Thranduil took a dim view of the Noldor, particularly the 'half-elf' Elrond.

"In the negative," confirmed his father. "We need no help from those lovers of men and dwarves. Why should we? They have left us to battle the darkness alone for too long."

Legolas could see Thranduil's point; agreed with it, to a certain extent. Even so, he felt that increased trade could not help but benefit Mirkwood. He put the point to his father.

"Benefit us how, exactly?" inquired Thranduil. "What do they make in Imladris that we should have need for?"

"They have some of the finest metal-workers in Middle-Earth," replied Legolas. "Their weapon craft is second to none."

"And what do they use that skill for?" asked Thranduil angrily. "They keep it to themselves and leave us to repel the southern shadows."

"So now they have seen the error of their ways. Adar, we cannot afford to lose this chance."

Thranduil sat down at his desk, thinking deeply. Eventually he looked up.

"Legolas, you are right."

The prince had not expected his father to give in so easily. "I am sorry?"

The king rose to his feet again, all traces of irritation gone. "You are right. And I would like to say how pleased I am that you have volunteered to go to Imladris."

Legolas' eyebrows shot up. "Me?"

Thranduil nodded. "Indeed. After all, I must send somebody with authority to speak for all Mirkwood and I cannot spare the time myself."

"Adar, you have ambassadors for that . . . diplomats, councillors, all trained for such things . . ."

The king shook his head. "As you are being trained. No, this will do you good. You need to gain experience in how to manage negotiations such as these. Do not argue, the decision has been taken. As you said, we cannot afford to lose this chance."

Legolas fell silent, hoist by his own petard. His father's words were firm and Legolas knew that debating would do no good. Whether he wished it or not, he was going to Imladris. Going alone at that, for the spiders had grown strong of late and the troops to accompany the prince could not be spared.

So here Legolas was, almost at his destination. He had been to Imladris only once before, but his impressions of its inhabitants had not been favourable. The Imladris elves were flighty, given to humour, with a general air of inefficiency that would never be tolerated in Mirkwood. Elves seemed to come and go as they pleased, with little sense of order or hierarchy.

There was of course Lord Elrond. Legolas was slightly in awe of the renowned elf, despite Thranduil's opinions. The king of Mirkwood had no great love for humans and Elrond's ancestry was, obviously, half mortal. But while Legolas distrusted men, Elrond had appeared truly wise and deserving of his reputation. Not that the prince would ever say such a thing to his father.

Night was drawing in and Legolas began looking for a place to rest. The mountains had been too dangerous to stop for long and he had not slept properly for days.

It was not an easy task. Whereas Mirkwood's forests offered any number of dry, safe places to sleep, the same could not be said of the fields and meadows that surrounded Imladris. Finally the prince spotted a series of haystacks and settled down against one, reflecting on the coming fortnight. If he made good time tomorrow, he could be there by noon the next day and then, well . . .

We shall see, thought Legolas as his eyes glazed and he drifted into dreams.

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"And so we find ourselves here, in an age-old mutual distrust, which will hopefully be broken by these meetings. Any questions?"

Estel shook his head, feeling as though it was stuffed with cotton. The twins looked much the same. Six days of Erestor detailing every political move made by either Mirkwood or Rivendell in the last five centuries . . . it was enough to drive a body insane.

Elrohir perked up. "That is it? The end?"

The councillor nodded, slightly offended to see the younger elf's relief. "Yes, Master Elrohir, that is the end. You may amuse yourselves until the prince arrives."

The three needed no persuading. They were up and out of the door in seconds, only to bump into Gilraen. The woman raised her hands in protection as a head-on crash was narrowly avoided.

"Good grief, slow down! Where are you off to in such a hurry?"

It was Elladan who explained. "We are sorry, we did not mean to run into you like that. It is simply that we have just been released from Erestor's clutches and we are desperate for some fresh air."

"Charming, is it not?" asked Erestor, emerging from the classroom. "I hope they did not injure you too badly, my lady."

"No, not too much," smiled Gilraen. "But I am afraid your excursion into the great outdoors will have to wait. Word has been sent that Prince Legolas has crossed the eastern borders; he will be here in little over an hour. Your father bids you to make yourselves presentable."

"We are presentable!" objected Estel. Gilraen looked at her son pointedly and he flushed. It was true that he needed to shave and comb his hair. He was also horribly aware that his clothes were not as clean as they could be.

"Estel, go and change," said Gilraen. "There are fresh clothes set out on your bed." She turned to the twins. "And you pair as well. I know there are better robes in your closets than those."

Elrohir began to protest, but his twin cut him short. Elladan whispered something that Estel could not catch, but it clearly pleased Elrohir. The twins grinned and headed off to their room. Estel followed quickly, wondering what they were planning now.

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Finally the main buildings of Imladris rose up before Legolas. The area had changed little since the prince's last visit. The midday sun reflected off the bright fountains in the grounds and illuminated every corner. Nowhere was there shadow or darkness – the high turrets of Elrond's home stood tall and proud, unthreatened by anything. For a moment Legolas found himself comparing Mirkwood unfavourably with Imladris, but stopped that thought. Imladris was pure and beautiful indeed, but it was exposed. There was nowhere to hide, nowhere to lose oneself in the comfort of the trees. Mirkwood was a much more practical realm, with closer links to nature and the land than the Noldor would ever have.

The prince approached the large double doors, which stood wide open. There was no other elf in sight and Legolas was wondering what to do when a figure appeared in the hall.

"Prince Legolas! A pleasure to see you again. On behalf of everyone here, may I welcome you to Rivendell."

Legolas recognised the elf as Erestor, one of Elrond's councillors. The prince remembered him as a shrewd negotiator, quick to argue and an expert in trade laws and agreements.

The prince bowed. "Many thanks, Erestor. I am happy to once again be a guest here and I hope for a successful fortnight."

Erestor laughed. "Of course! I dare say you are quite the diplomat now – you were skilled enough five centuries back."

"Well, we shall see," smiled Legolas, a little forcedly. He disliked the immediate informality, preferring to keep others at a distance until he knew them well.

"We shall indeed, Legolas. Come, I will show you to Elrond."

The councillor led the way up various staircases until they reached an average sized hall. Legolas recalled that Elrond had always refused a throne room. The elf lord ruled Imladris by general consent and tacitly disapproved of monarchies.

There were various elves in the hall, all apparently doing something important. Elrond was stood at the end of the room, conversing quietly with two identical elves – they were presumably his twin sons, Elladan and Elrohir.

But it was the human that held Legolas' attention. This, then, was the fabled Estel. The man was tall, almost six foot by Legolas' reckoning, with shoulder length brown hair and intelligent grey eyes. His formal robes were draped awkwardly around his solid frame and the prince had an idea that Estel was happier in shirt and breeches.

These impressions were gathered in a single glance and Legolas looked back to Elrond. Bowing low, he touched his hand to his heart in the traditional gesture.

"Mae govennen, Lord Elrond. I bring greetings from my father and our people. We are most honoured to be invited to these talks."

Elrond returned the greeting. "As are we to receive you, Prince Legolas. May I introduce my sons, Elladan, Elrohir and Estel? They will show you around and so on this afternoon, before discussions begin tomorrow."

Legolas cast a troubled look towards the twins. The two were dressed absolutely identically and the prince had no idea how to tell them apart.

"Thank you, my lord. I am most grateful."

Elrond smiled. "There is no need to stand on ceremony, Legolas. You will find Rivendell quite informal. The twins and Estel will show you to your room and then I imagine you could do with some lunch."

Legolas nodded. The twins stepped forward and invited the prince to follow them. There was something in their demeanour that made Legolas uneasy, but he could not put his finger on what. He had a sinking feeling that he would soon find out, though.

Estel followed his brothers, trying not to make his sideways glances at the prince too obvious. The blond's attire was strange to him, coloured in neutral greens and browns rather than the stronger shades of Estel's own clothes. Not only that, but Legolas slightly intimidated the man. The elf walked with an assurance and confidence that was almost imposing and Estel felt too nervous to address him.

It was only a few minutes' walk to the guest room where Legolas would be staying. The room was richly decorated with paintings and tapestries and there was a large window, set in the eastern wall to catch the sunrise.

"This is where you will be staying. All your things may be kept here," said Elladan. The prince nodded.

"Thank you."

Estel wondered at the coolness of the voice. Legolas spoke quietly, with an air of distance that did nothing to warm Estel's heart towards him.

"If you would care to divest yourself of your luggage, we can go down to the kitchens. Lunch is a fairly casual affair – we eat it as and when we please."

Legolas did not appear to be listening to Elrohir's words. He had moved over to the window and was staring outwards towards the Misty Mountains. "You have a beautiful view here."

Before any of Elrond's sons could respond, Estel's stomach growled loudly. The man blushed. "I am sorry – I missed breakfast."

A hint of a grin appeared on Legolas' face, the closest he had come to a smile since his arrival. "So it would seem." He placed his travelling bag, bow and quiver on the floor by the bed. "I am ready."

The twins exchanged glances. "Wouldn't you be more comfortable if you left those knives here, too?"

Legolas looked down to the long daggers at his waist, surprised. "Oh no. I take my knives everywhere, for I do not know when I will need them."

Elladan cast an 'I-told-you-so' look at Estel, then shrugged. "As you will," he said politely. "The kitchens are this way."

As Elladan and Legolas went out the door, Elrohir tugged Estel's sleeve. "Look at the bed," he mouthed silently.

Estel did so and soon realised what the twins had done. The bad appeared normal, but a closer look revealed what Elrohir termed an 'apple pie bed' – one folded in such a way that the occupant would be unable to climb beneath the sheets. Estel could not help grinning. After a few days of this kind of treatment, the prince would soon lose his composure.

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