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Things changed after Melpomaen's promotion. Before he had considered himself fortunate to catch even a brief glimpse of Legolas during the day; now their paths seemed to cross constantly. They would often meet in the mornings on their way to the council chambers, where they were required to read over the same documents and attempt, self-consciously, to avoid eye contact.
It became something of a game; an exciting, dangerous game that both knew would have consequences if discovered. Yet the temptation provided too great a thrill for them to ignore.
They met the night before each assembly, gleefully hatching plans between breathless kisses and languid cuddling. Melpomaen had discovered, to his delight, that his prince was completely addicted to cuddling. The wood-elf happily took up residence in Melpomaen's arms and allowed the little Noldo to pamper him while they plotted. Legolas would let slip a few facts that he knew Erestor would find interesting, while Melpomaen suggested how best to use those facts to their advantage.
For Legolas, it was easy to have his voice heard in the negotiations. Lower-ranked Melpomaen, however, took a less direct approach. He would inconspicuously scribble suggestions on slips of paper that he would pass to Faelon. If Faelon approved, they would make their way to Erestor, who would use them however he saw fit. Melpomaen had to take care, for Faelon was a perceptive ellon who watched everything far too closely for the little elf's liking.
As time passed, however, more and more of Melpomaen's notes made their way to Erestor's desk. It was soon apparent that, if the negotiations were left to the two lovers, they would be over before the week was out. They had to be careful that their newfound knowledge did not seem outside the bounds of possibility.
Melpomaen had, once or twice, noticed an expression of surprise flit across Saelbeth's face, but his lifelong friend was above petty jealousy and reacted with both pride and delight.
"How did you think to ask the kitchens for corovór?" Saelbeth exclaimed one afternoon, after the talks had ended for the day.
It had been a blessedly short session, and most had already left to enjoy the remaining sunshine, but Melpomaen and Saelbeth were tasked with tidying the room for the next session. The housekeeps were due later for a thorough cleaning. First, however, they needed to record the day's progress in detailed notes and ensure no sensitive documents were left lying about.
Melpomaen grinned. Corovór was a sweet treat, made from a mixture of honey, hazelnut paste and apricots, bound with oat and chestnut flour. They were considered rather commonplace in Imladris. For their Greenwood guests, however, they were a rare delicacy indeed.
The Greenwood could not grow apricots, and their native beech nuts, while nutritious, had a very different flavour. A healthy trade existed between the two realms. Apricots, plums and walnuts from Imladris, along with wines, cheeses and crafted goods. The Greenwood especially coveted their metalwork; Noldor smiths were considered the very best.
In return, the Greenwood offered timber, fur, honey and silk, and, to a lesser extent, certain forest herbs and mushrooms not found elsewhere. Their carpenters and weavers had a distinct style highly prized in Imladris, and it was said that Lord Elrond boasted a fine dresser he'd imported at great expense.
"You should really spend more time with them, 'Beth," Melpomaen replied. "I gave some to Mindirith just the other day and he just about swooned on the spot."
"Mindirith, huh?" Saelbeth quirked a dubious brow. "You've been spending a lot of time with him lately. Anything I should know about? Hmm?"
"Oh, goodness, no!" the little elf laughed. "Don't be ridiculous; have you seen the size of him? I would need rope and a grappling hook just to reach his lips."
"What an image, Mel! Don't do that to me!" Saelbeth snorted with laughter, and Melpomaen giggled at the expression on his friend's face.
"Oh, but really, though, you should meet him. He's quite lovely and I'm learning so much from him. You've seen how much I've been able to suggest to Master Erestor lately."
"Well, perhaps," Saelbeth prevaricated, but there was an odd little blush staining his cheeks that gave Melpomaen hope. The little elf suppressed a devious smile. Mindirith may have mentioned, in passing, that he found the blonde advisor really quite pretty, and Melpomaen was not above using that fact to his advantage. There was something he wanted from that Greenwood warrior that the Imladrian guards had been entirely unwilling to provide.
At last, their work was done, and, as Melpomaen pushed the last of the chairs into its spot, he stretched and happily exclaimed, "There, all finished!"
"Well, almost," Saelbeth amended, "we still need to deliver these notes to Erestor's office."
"I can do that," Melpomaen replied readily. "I'm meeting Mindirith for a turn in the gardens this afternoon anyway, and Erestor's office is on the way."
"Oh, you are a little gem, thank you! I have so much I want to do today." Saelbeth passed over the notes and fairly skipped towards the door. He called over his shoulder as he vanished from view, " "'til tomorrow!"
Melpomaen sighed, exasperated. Little gem, indeed!
He rolled up the notes with practised ease, securing them with a tight knot, and headed towards the library. Erestor's office was just next door, and he knew the layout well.
He sighed again. He found himself feeling somewhat downhearted of late, despite his promotion and the beautiful weather. With each passing day the summer was drawing to a close and, all too soon, his wild wood-elf would have to leave. He was not looking forward to the lonely nights ahead.
His summer affair had brought him inexpressible delight but, while there had been undeniable physical pleasures shared, Melpomaen realised it was not just his lover's touch he would miss. Legolas had a bright, shining way about him, as if his very fëa was forged from sunlight. The world seemed fresh and new in his presence, just as Legolas loved discovering all the new things in Imladris; all the little things which were ordinary to Melpomaen but which were strange and unusual to the prince.
Melpomaen understood that he, too, was just such a thing, an inconsequential novelty, soon to be put aside.
Oh, but it was worth it, worth every moment and, by the Valar, he would make sure the prince remembered him long after they parted ways!
There would be a festival soon, to mark the end of summer, and the little elf resolved to subtly ask Mindirith what sorts of music the prince might enjoy. Perhaps he could convince the musicians to play something lively, or maybe some songs that encouraged set dances. Poor Legolas was getting rather fed up of all the slow, romantic waltzes Lindir had been playing lately.
He pondered the idea as he walked the final corridor to his destination, passing the open doorways of the library and the various studies used by scholars and officials alike. It was quiet today; most having retreated outside to enjoy a spot of lunch outdoors. Which was why, when he heard the voice, it caught his immediate attention.
"Ah! Meleth…! Meleaa… ah!"
Melpomaen froze on the spot. It appeared Erestor was otherwise engaged.
Honestly those two were incorrigible. It was sort of adorable how they were still so enamoured of each other, even after so many centuries, but this was also how Melpomaen imagined it must be like for a child to walk in on their parents. He really did not want to think about it. Oh, and he really did NOT need to hear those sounds coming from Glorfindel!
He suppressed the long-suffering sigh that threatened to expose his presence, and steeled his resolve. Quietly, he tiptoed into Erestor's reception room and placed the notes on his desk. Fortunately, the door to Erestor's main office was closed.
This, Melpomaen mused, was exactly the reason he had turned down the offer of new rooms upon his promotion. His current quarters were located on the very end of his corridor, and he had no immediate neighbours to worry about. He and Legolas could make all the noise they wanted.
He'd spun a yarn about not wanting to move until the end of summer, when the negotiations were over, because he was just so very busy learning his new role. Erestor had readily believed his excuse, although Saelbeth was somewhat disappointed. His new rooms would be on the same wing as his friend's, and he knew Saelbeth was eagerly anticipating more evenings filled with wine and gossip.
Ordinarily, Melpomaen would also be looking forward to those evenings, but not just yet. Not until the summer had ended.
The little elf smirked slyly as he walked towards the gardens to meet a certain Greenwood guard. With just a little nudging, Saelbeth could soon have a lovely wood-elf of his own to occupy his evenings. Mindirith would be the perfect diversion for Saelbeth and, with a little clever manoeuvring, the map-maker might end up thinking he owed Melpomaen a favour, rather than the other way around!
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