Once more thanks to the wonderful Arian and j-mercuryuk! I am glad you're still sticking with me and my story! (and I sue hope this was soon enough ;)...)

and now... on to the story!

xxxGTLxxx

Chapter 19

"Thranduil?" Elrond asked carefully, hiding a deep sigh as the woodland king's back stiffened visibly. "I came to apologize. My question was..." he paused, staring pleadingly at the other elf's back, "Uncalled for and I did not mean it the way it sounded," he finished lamely, "I truly did not mean to put it that way!"

"Then why did you, per-edhel (half-elf)?" Thranduil continued to stare out of the window, "Do you have so little faith in our kin?"

"No," Elrond wrapped his arms around himself, gently taking another step towards the proud king, "I have faith in our kin, I just seem to always say the wrong thing when I'm around you and I don't know why."

Thranduil's mirthless laughter stabbed painfully into his heart. "Maybe I should avoid being around you then until you have managed to make your tongue say what your brain wants it to."

"Maybe," Elrond conceded, "But I would miss your company."

"Would you now?" Thranduil crossed his arms in front of his chest, listlessly staring at the busy servants and guards in the court yard, "And why should I care about your feelings after you continue to insult me and my hospitality?"

"I already said that I had come to apologize for what I said," Elrond took another step towards Thranduil, gingerly placing a hand on the other elf's shoulder. Thranduil stiffened even further. "Please accept my apologies. We were friends once, can you not find it in your heart to forgive me?"

"Leave my heart be, per-edhel, you know nothing of it." Thranduil's voice was as cold as ice as he shook Elrond's hand off, "I strongly suggest you leave."

"As you wish." Elrond nodded dejectedly and turned, forcing himself not to look back as he strode towards the door.

"Elrond." Thranduil's voice was warmer, but he had still not turned.

"Yes?" Hope was evident in Elrond's question.

"You have my forgiveness, but do think before you speak again in my presence."

"Thank you," Elrond whispered softly, "I will."

"You may leave now."

Without another word the half elf left, leaving Thranduil to the many thoughts racing through his mind.

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"Do you think Aragorn and the others still believe that we aren't talking to each other?" Gimli asked as he felt the familiar weight he was waiting for every night return to his matress once again.

"I don't know," strong yet soft arms sneaked up on him, encircling his waist and keeping him in place. Gimli smiled as silky hair slid over his skin and a familiar head came to rest on his chest. "But I know that you should dye your beard again. It looks good on you; makes you almost look like a warrior dwarf or something."

"Or something, eh?" A deer chuckle rumbled through Gimli's chest, "You can count yourself lucky Master elf, that I have sworn not to kill you."

"Of course," Legolas blew a raspberry against the dwarf's chest, "You'd get rid of me in an instant if you could."

"Naturally," Gimli huffed, playfully swatting at the elf, "Who in his right mind could want someone as skinny as you? Unfortunately I seem to be stuck with you."

"You're only keeping me to fatten me up?" Legolas pouted, "Really, you dwarves are just as insensitive as my father claims you are."

"Oh," Gimli absentmindedly threaded his fingers through the elf's golden hair, "He has first hand experience then?"

"Ugh," Legolas shuddered, shaking his head, "I do not want to think about that."

"What, your father in bed with a dwarf? Is it so awful for you to think that your father might still be havin -."

"Shut up!" Legolas raised his head, glaring at the dwarf.

"Make me," Gimli grinned, satisfied with his sucess. He always managed to get Legolas riled up.

"You bet I will!"

Gimli's grin broaned as the elf straddled him, slender hips and heated skin pressing against him. His hands roamed appreciatively about the elf. "I think I like your way of shutting me up," he managed to whisper, just before a possessive mouth descended onto his lips.

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An angry growl left Barak's lips as he prowled his newly-erected dungeons. The orcs were just not quick enough. "You!" he snarled, grabbing a passing Uruk-Hai.

"Yes master?" the creature almost squeaked, eyes wide with something as close to fear as he was able to feel. It's feets dangled helplessly in the air.

Barak forced himself not to laugh and instead concentrated on his renewed anger at his servant's inferiority.

"Why is this taking you so long?" he snarled disgustedly as he threw the pitiful creature into a corner. The corners of his mouth twitched as the uruk hit a pile of stones with an anguished yelp. "Stop squealing and answer me!" his voice was low and sharp enough to cut glass, "Why are you set on disappointing me?"

"I'm not! Not!" The uruk climbed to its feet, staring at Barak from wide, yellow eyes.

"Then why are not even the dungeons ready? Am I supposed to rule the world from a ruin? Do you want the free people of Middle Earth to laugh about us?"

"No master," the uruk scared listlessly at the floor, "We are doing our best, but the goblins you gave us are slow and have their own minds."

"Then whip it out of them!" Barak's eyes were narrowed slits of red fire, "Is it too difficult for you to get my wishes done? Should I look for another servant to supervise this?"

"No master," the uruk growled, "I won't disappoint you again."

"See that you don't," Barak smiled, already turning, "You won't live to see my mercy once more."

He frowned as he strode out of the dungeons. He had to do something. He had left that stubborn mortal king and the damned elf in mirkwood alone for too long. At least the Imladris leader was still in Mirkwood. Orcs scattered and disappeared miraculously as soon as they saw their master's smile. It was time to set some plans into motions.

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"Erestor! Erestor!"

The advisor turned, surprise clearly etched onto his face as the door to his private chambers flew open. "You won'l believe what happened to me today!" Lindir was babbling away, violet eyes glittering with happiness as he embraced his friend.

"Lindir!" Erestor shook his head, obviously trying to connect the excited elf in front of him with his usual quiet friend. "What happened? What has you babbling and bouncing like an elfing on his begetting day?"

"He did it!" Lindir hugged the usually stern advisor again, "He finally asked! I am so happy!"

"Who asked what Lindir?" Erestor had somehow managed to free himself and close the door, "Why don't you sit down, take a deep breath and then tell me again what happened?"

"Bellmaethorion," Lindir sighed happily as he let himself fall onto Erestor's bed, "He finally asked me to bond with him!"

Erestor frowned. "And you agreed?"

"Of course!" Lindir's face suddenl darkened. "Erestor is something amiss? Why are you looking at me like that?"

"Nothing, it is nothing," Erestor shook his head, hiding part of his bewilderment behind a curtain of dark hair, "I am just surprised that is all. May your bond be as happy as you deserve it to be." Lindir's hands were warm in his, "You deserve every little happiness in this world, and if you think Bellmaehtorion is the one to make you happy, then I wish you every luck and happiness."

"You still don't sound too convinced," Lindir's smile faltered, "What is it that you do not like about my intended?"

"I do not like the fact that we still know so little about him," Erestor admitted, gently patting Lindir's hand, "But if he managed to capture your heart, then he must be very special indeed. Only a very special man can deserve your love."

Tears swam in Lindir's eyes as he buried Erestor in another tight hug. "Thank you," he whispered, "Only you could put something like that so beautifully. What have I done to deserve a friend like you?"

"Not much," Erestor grinned, fighting back tears of his own, "You've simply been yourself when we first crossed paths, that was all." Lindir's hold on him tightened ever so little. Neither of them heard the door open.

"Do I need a special invitation, or am I allowed to enter without one?" An amused voice suddenly asked from the door.

"Glorfindel!" Erestor quickly hid his nervosity as he motioned for the blond to come in, "Lindir just had some very good news to spread."

"Good news?" Glorfindel arched an eyebrow, "Then maybe I should go and come back again when I've found some wine to celebrate whatever occasion you are hiding with?"

"We're not hiding anything," Lindir's smile became even broader if that was possible at all, "We were merely talking about my engagement."

"Engagement?" Sheets rustled as Glorfindel joined the two other elves on the bed, "And pray tell, who finally managed to secure your heart?"

Lindir suddenly fidgeted nervously, blushing to the tips of his ears. "Bellmaethorion." he mumbled, and then, smiling repeated in a louder voice, "I told Bellmaethorion I'd bind with him as soon as he has gained our lord's permission to stay in Imladris."

"Bellmaethorion?" Glorfindel looked more than just thoughtful. "Are you sure that this is wise, meldir (friend)? You have only known him for some weeks."

Lindir shook his head. "My heart is sure. I know that you don't exactly like him, but I hope you'll make the effort to get to know him."

"Rest assured my friend that I will do just that," Glorfindel took Erestor's hand, caressed it gently, "And we are both very happy for you."

Lindir grinned again, the heat in his cheeks slowly fading. "I know when someone compliments me out," he smiled, "And I shall gladly give you some time for yourselves now."

"Thank you." Glorfindel nodded, "And if you're looking for someone to help with the bonding preparations or the writing of your vows..."

"I know who not to ask," Lindir completed, "Please forgive me, Glorfindel, but your taste is not exactly known to be refined."

"Impertinent elfling," the blond eldar growled as the door finally closed behind the younger minstrel, "Just as well that he has better taste than me."

Erestor merely smiled, shaking his head.

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Elrond was sitting on a stone bench as the sun set, looking out over one of the small lakes that were part of the royal gardens of Mirkwood. He had wandered around aimlessly between the lush beds of flowers, only now and then stopping to inspect a rare herb. His mind was still reeling. No matter what he wanted to say or said it was always wrong, he always ended up enraging Thranduil. And somehow he doubted that the woodland king's temper was the only thing

responsible for that. Somehow he always managed to push all the wrong buttons with Thranduil.

It was almost as bad as it had been shortly before the final battle of the last alliance. Groaning he brushed a strand of hair out of his face. Thranduil had already said that he forgave him, but had he been sincere or was it merely a way of placating Elrond and getting rid of him faster. His fingers were cool against his skin as he buried his face in his hands. Why could he never do things the simply way? Why did he have to make everything so absurdly complicated?

"I am sorry," he whispered again, "I know I am nothing but a fool whenever you are near, but I do not mean to be."

"Aye, you truly are a fool. As are most of us from time to time."

""Thranduil!" Elrond's hair fanned out around him, as his head whipped around, "How long have you been standing there?"

A secret smile lit the king's face. "Long enough to know that your apology was truly sincere," he briefly inclined his head before seating himself on the bench. "It seems that both of us are still intent on making fools of themselves after all this time."

Elrond snorted. "I would like to avoid making a fool of myself in the future."

"Would you really?" Thranduil smiled, "And what is to amuse me then?"

"I amuse you?" Elrond forgot all about the beautiful dusk scenery around them as he stared at the other elf.

"Oh, from time to time." Thranduil smiled again, "You are right, you know. We really were friends now, though war and death are enough to destroy all friendship."

Elrond smiled softly. "Aye, I suppose they are. But our future is not set in stone," he continued quietly, "And there is no need to stick to a pattern we both dislike."

Thranduil's eyebrows rose impressively. "Are you suggesting what I think you are?"

"I think I am," Elrond chuckled softly, "I know that many things have happened, but maybe we can try to find our old friendship again?"

Thranduil shook his head. "Too many things have happened since we were friends. I cannot simply forget them."

"I am not asking you to," Elrond explained, "I am merely asking you to consider giving me another chance."

Thranduil's green eyes were intense as he studied Elrond closely. Finally he turned away and stared at the lake. His gaze followed the few midgets flying circles over the water. The splash of a jumping fish was the only thing disturbing the silence, while the last rays of Anor finally retired from Arda. Ithil was already setting.

"Maybe," Thranduil said finally. "Maybe there really is a chance to go back to these times somehow."

Elrond did not answer, but even without looking at him Thranduil knew that the half elf was smiling. He could sense it.

Neither of them knew that at exactly the same moment a dark storm was already gathering strength at Mirkwood's borders.

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"What is this all about?" Aragorn winced, as he heard Arwen's determined tone. He knew it only too well. It was exactly the same one Elrond used, when he would broke no argument.

"I don't really know," he sighed, kicking off his boots and walking towards the paper and parchment-littered desk under the window. He glared at the mess for a second before turning back to is wife. "There are many strange events occuring throughout the free realms at the moment, and I understand only very few of them. If any at all."

"So?" Arwen set her embroidery aside, "What is there to fear? There may still be some orcs left, but Sauron is defeated and with him the shadow in the east. There may be darkness still, but darkness has always been a part of the world, ever since Melkor's song first caused discord between the Valar. We can never hope to destroy it, only to keep it at bay."

"I know," Aragorn sighed. He smiled as Arwen poured him a goblet of wine. "But I have known enough darkness to last me a lifetime. Why can we not live in peace?"

Arwen smiled, shaking her head. Aragorn's gaze was glued to her slender form as she made her tour of the room, lighting the candles next to their bed and extinguishing the others. "Because peace is something that can only truly be if it takes root in our heart and continues to grow there," a candle flickered and died beneath her hand, "We long for peace but as long as the memories and the pain of war are still part of our hearts we cannot enjoy it. You have to be patient, melamin (my love). The seed of peace is already sown in the hearts of the children of this land. Give it time to grow."

Aragorn smiled, kissing her hand. "You are wise beyond anything I know," he whispered, looking up at her through dark, tousled strands of hair, "No matter what, you always manage to bring joy and hope back to my heart." He shivered as Arwen trailed a finger across his jawline.

"That is only because you became my hope when all else seemed lost." She smiled again. "Are you ready for bed?"

Aragorn's eyes darkened, flickering with desire as he nodded. "Always," he whispered, "Always yours."