I fear few things in this world. Having died will do that to one, it puts a new perspective on things. Death is, for most, the great unknown. The journey to Mandos' Halls is one that all elves know of, but not all experience. We know what happens to our spirit when it leaves our bodies; but knowing and experiencing are not the same, so there is a slight element of the unknown in death. I have made that journey; it is no longer unknown to me. I know what it is to have my soul torn from its home, to feel physical pain beyond imagining through the Balrog's whip. The things I have seen, the deeds I have done have left little for me to fear.

In these darkening times, fear is an ever-present shadow to many. Fear of war, fear of the Dark Lord and his minions, fear of death… I fear none of these things. Do not take me wrong; I have respect for the Dark Lord and the havoc he can bring. However, I know that havoc is temporary, for Sauron will be defeated or he will take dominion over the earth. In either case, those I love will be free from him, whether it is by death or by ship.

Fear. Such a strange beast it is. It is with us from the time we are born: fear of the dark, fear of monsters under our beds, fear of being alone, fear of being in love, fear of what we do not understand. It is the last fear that I find most interesting, for it is the most irrational. One might say that all fear is irrational, but I say it is not. As elflings, the dark is a real and threatening entity to us; the noises we hear and the monsters under our beds are very real to us then. As we grow out of those youthful fears, we replace them with new ones: fear of being alone, and fear of being in love. Our hearts are yet fragile things until they are tested. It is only through the disappointment and heartbreak that comes with growing older that we come to know that we can survive these things one way or another, even as we survived the dark and the monsters under our beds. But fear of what we do not understand… that is something that stays with us always, something that is ever present even as we reach our elder years.

It is that fear that I speak of now.

Taur-e-Ndaedelos. The Forest of Great Fear is undoubtedly a dangerous place. The greatest forest in Middle-earth is slowly being consumed by Shadow. While my fellow warriors know of the yrch, wargs, and ungol, and even the Úlairi that come from Dol Guldur, that is not what they fear. They need not fear those things because those things are known to them. What they fear is what they do not know, the mysterious Silvan Elves of Taur-nu-Fuin, and their formidable Sindar King.

Thranduil's reputation for being a cold, unmerciful ruler has spread far since Thorin II was a 'guest' in his halls. There is no love lost between the Sindar and the Dwarves; the Sindar still hold them responsible for the death and betrayal of their great king, Elu Thingol. Bilbo's affinity for exaggeration has not helped this perception of Thranduil at all. Many in Imladris believe the king to be a ruthless heathen, who is quick to anger and does not hesitate to lock anyone in his dungeons, be they dwarf, man, or elf. Thranduil's father, Oropher, was stubborn and quick to anger; nevertheless, Oropher was a good elf, and a brave warrior. His defiance of Gil-galad upon the Morannon cost him and his warriors dearly. These two things combined have not eased tensions between our two realms. Silvans are, by nature, secretive and a close-knit society. This is true of the Galadhrim; however, they serve my lord's kin. Therefore, there is a strong bond of friendship between the realms of Imladris and Lórien.

For their own part, the Sindar have long held suspicion and anger toward the Noldor for the Ruin of Doriath, for the killing of King Dior and many of his subjects, and for the Kinslaying at Alqualondë. Fëanor and his sons left a trail of destruction and death behind them that has stained the Noldor race. Unfortunately, all the Noldor who answered Fëanor's call and traveled over the Sea have had the blame for these transgressions placed squarely on all their heads by the Sindar. Lord Celeborn is the exception to this rule, as he acknowledges it was the Sons of Fëanor that perpetrated this crime, not all Noldor. Nor is it a small matter that the Lady Galadriel is of Noldorin heritage and being married and in love with her has influenced his perception of the Noldor.

That is why I travel east at the request of my lord, to attempt to forge a relationship between the realms of Thranduil and Elrond. For in these darkening times, we need to come together; none of our realms can stand alone against Sauron's attack.

The realm of Taur-e-Ndaedelos is the most vulnerable of the Elven realms; it lies close to Dol Guldur, and, most significantly, it is not protected by one of the Three. Thranduil fought hard to hold his ground and protect his subjects against the encroaching Shadow, but he finally had to concede defeat and withdraw north, past the mountains to the Forest River. Here, in the fashion of Menegroth, he has delved a network of caves, finding refuge underground from the ills that plague the forest.

Many hold him responsible for the evil that has spread throughout the wood, they say he has failed to protect it, as is his duty; but I disagree. What can one Sindar King and some four hundred elves do against the darkness that spreads from Dol Guldur? I remember all too well the fall of my own city under the wheels of war that Morgoth unleashed. Gondolin was a fortress of a city, with great walls, and scores of armored warriors to protect it. The fact that Thranduil and his subjects have lasted as long as they have with no aid of a Ring of Power, or help from their kindred, is in itself a feat to be proud of. I remember well Thranduil's valor on the Morannon. Even as he grieved his fallen father, he fought bravely, he and his archers providing cover for the advancing guard of Gil-galad and Elrond. He showed great skill with the sword as well when they were attacked by yrch and torogs coming down from the mountains.

Perhaps that is why I volunteered to go to Taur-e-Ndaedelos; because as a warrior, I felt a certain kinship with the beleaguered king, and I knew the bitter taste of defeat when one is forced to flee from their home. But when I agreed to go, I had no idea what fate had in store for me…

* * * *

Summer, 2951, Third Age, Vales of the Anduin

Glorfindel sat upon Asfaloth as his horse drank from the Anduin. The Elda's companions, Elladan and Elrohir, sat beside him, their tenseness bleeding through their bodies to their horses' backs, causing their mounts to shift nervously beside Glorfindel's own calm one. His soldiers were well trained, calculating instruments of war, and the twins were the best among them. They were not swaggering and boastful, nor were they rough and cavalier. They were efficient, shrewd warriors, more than proficient with a host of weaponry and able to track an enemy unseen. They had fought in many battles, faced many foes, yet there in a glade near the clear waters of the Anduin, on a bright sun-filled day, they were nervous. Glorfindel's mouth curved into a smile; he thought their nervousness was a silly thing.

He signaled to his companions and they continued north, toward the old ford across the Anduin, then north across the Great Forest Road to the elf path that would take them toward Thranduil's caves. The twins nodded in reply and they were off, their horses moving in a slow canter over the grasslands of the Anduin valley. They were but three days journey from Thranduil's caves, and this part was the most perilous. They saw little in the way of orc activity, and saw no sign of warg riders. However, on the second day after entering the wood, they saw telltale signs of the great spiders that infected the forest. It looked as though there had been a battle; hollow shells of spider carcasses lay upon the ground. Glorfindel and his companions remained alert, moving slowly and silently through the darkening wood.

The Elda sensed their presence long before they made it known. The Silvan guard watched them as they traveled soundlessly across the ground, their mounts picking their way through fallen tree boughs and underbrush. The elf path was not clearly visible to anything but Elven eyes, yet another way to ensure the security of Thranduil's realm. The forest was dense, and it would be easy to become lost in it if one did not know their way. Glorfindel's sensitive ears had just picked up the distant sound of running water when Thranduil's border guard dropped out of the trees and stopped them. He was not surprised, as he had felt them watching from lookout to lookout as they traveled the road.

Glorfindel slid from his horse, his gray cloak pulled close around him, covering his head and his garments. He had removed the bells from Asfaloth's mane before they left Lórien, not wishing to announce their arrival to all within hearing.

"Mae govannen. I am Glorfindel of Imladris," the Elda began. "My companions are the twin sons of Lord Elrond, Elladan and Elrohir. We have been sent here on errand by my Lord Elrond to speak with your king."

The leader of the guard stepped forward, tilting his head slightly as he looked over the tall Elda. Glorfindel took note of the leader's youthfulness, yet despite his lack of years, his eyes spoke of strength of purpose that was unusual in one so young. The young elf said nothing for a moment, his blue eyes flicking from Glorfindel to the twins. His lips were set in grim determination and he turned, motioning to his companions to take up their positions in the trees.

He turned back to Glorfindel and answered, "You will follow me." The young elf turned and began walking through the forest toward the sound of the river.

Elladan and Elrohir dismounted and followed, their gray eyes flitting toward one another before they took their place in line behind the Elda. They walked silently for some distance, the sound of the river growing louder as they approached.

"May our horses drink?" Elrohir asked as they reached the river.

"Do not drink this water," the young elf answered as the river came into view. The elves looked down and saw the murky water running before them and a small ferry approaching from the other side to take them across. "This is the Enchanted River," the young elf continued. "All who come in contact with its waters fall into a sleep that they do not wake from. We are not far now, your horses will be well cared for when we arrive at the caves."

The ferry arrived and took one elf and horse at a time across, before returning for their escort. They continued their march through the wood as the sun reached its apex in the sky, and Glorfindel noticed that the forest was growing lighter, and that signs of wildlife were beginning to appear. Deer peered at them from behind bushes; small creatures skittered beneath the underbrush. The sounds of birds could be heard in the treetops.

As if he sensed the Elda's observation, the young elf spoke over his shoulder without turning. "We have reached the protected realm. Here the king's magic is strong and life is safe for all who dwell within it."

They reached a great stone bridge that crossed a swift moving river. At the opposite side of the bridge, great iron gates stood open, solid, black, and foreboding, like great yawning jaws. Glorfindel felt the apprehension in the twins as they crossed the bridge. They were entering the great unknown, the halls of the Elven King, Thranduil. He fought not to smile as they entered a large bustling courtyard.

Once inside, the incredible height of the caves made it feel more open than he would have thought. While primitive and rough hewn, the space was large and clean, and brightly lit by lanterns. A bright circle of sunlight spread over the ground of the courtyard and Glorfindel looked up to see a leaded glass enclosure that allowed sunlight to enter this part of the caves. A criss-cross pattern lined the ground where great iron bars set deep into the stone cast their shadow from above. Lining the walls of the courtyard were various stalls where elves traded their stock: vegetables, flowers, wine, honey, breads, and homemade goods. To the far right was a long open passageway, and Glorfindel could see sunlight coming from the other end and detect the sweet smell of summer hay wafting through.

Three young elves, two male, one female, ran forward from that passageway and took their horses. Glorfindel bid Asfaloth go with the youngest of the three, the female, and his grand, white stallion obediently followed the young girl to the stable where the horses would be fed and watered. Interspersed between the merchants' stalls were various passageways that the Elda surmised led to the living quarters of those that resided within this massive underground community.

"If you would follow me." Their guide directed them to stone steps that led to two great oaken doors. The young elf pulled upon the large iron rings and the thick, huge doors groaned open revealing a hallway illuminated by iron lanterns. They followed the young elf down the long hallway, their packs swung over their shoulders. The corridor opened into a rotunda where there were three doors. One led to a grand hall, much like a primitive version of their own Hall of Fire at home. The second door was shut and what lay behind it was unknown. The set of doors in the center was guarded by two elves that were armed with swords.

They approached that set of doors, the guards bowed their heads to the young elf, and their escort pushed them open, leading the visitors into the massive throne room. The path from the doors to the dais was lined with chairs sitting close to the walls on each side. Elves, that Glorfindel assumed to be council members, sat in the chairs watching their approach. Five steps led from the floor to the platform that the throne sat upon, and as Glorfindel's eyes followed their path, he saw the king upon his throne.

Thranduil was an imposing figure. Seated in a high-backed, elaborately carved chair, he was dressed in robes of deep green, brown and gray. A mithril circlet sat upon his head, and entwined in it were flowers of the season. Small mithril hoops rested in each earlobe, the light from the lanterns flickering off them. In his hand he held a great oaken staff, entwined with jasmine.

Thranduil's deep voice echoed in the chamber. "In exchange for passage along the northern borders of my realm, you will provide us with first right of purchase on your stock of winter hay."

The nervous man that stood before the king held his hands clasped tightly in front of him. "That is acceptable, your majesty. I will inform the liaison to the farmers of this arrangement. You can expect the first shipment come late autumn."

"I expect the best of the crop, and a fair price," Thranduil answered without emotion.

"And you shall have it, your highness. Our thanks to you for your generosity," the nervous man answered.

"My warriors will not be responsible for the safety of those who travel this forest. I suggest you come armed. You will announce yourselves upon arrival at the border and each party will provide papers explaining destination and identities of all in the travelling party."

"Of course, your highness."

"That will be all."

"Thank you, your highness."

The man bowed low and departed quickly, his shuffling footsteps echoing through the hall as he left.

Thranduil turned his gaze to the young elf that brought in Glorfindel and the twins. The Elda detected a slight twitch of the king's lips as the elf mounted the dais.

Glorfindel and the twins knelt before the throne as their escort climbed the steps, knelt before his king, covered his heart with his hand and bowed his head. The king nodded deferentially to the young elf, who rose to his feet and moved to stand beside him, whispering in Thranduil's ear. The young elf then turned and stood beside the king, his hand resting upon the chair in which Thranduil sat. Glorfindel surmised at that point that their escort was the king's son, or he would not be allowed to touch the throne.

"What is your business in my realm?" the king asked. His voice was deep and serious, commanding respect from those around him.

Glorfindel answered without looking up, "I am Glorfindel of Imladris, I am here on errand, sent by my Lord Elrond. I request an audience with your majesty so that we may discuss relations between our two realms."

"I had no advance word of your arrival, Lord Glorfindel. You and your companions are most fortunate that you were not greeted more harshly."

"Lord Elrond thought it best not to announce our arrival, my lord, for security reasons," Glorfindel answered.

Thranduil furrowed his brow for a moment then nodded. "Is this a matter of grave importance?" the king asked.

"Yes, my lord," Glorfindel responded. "We have traveled far to speak with you."

"Very well. My assistant will see that you have an appointment with me after you have settled in." He motioned to two elves, who stepped forward. "Follow these two, they will see that you are housed and have an opportunity to bathe before the evening meal. My assistant will contact you as to the time of our meeting."

Glorfindel nodded and reluctantly followed the young elves out of the throne room with the twins in tow.

* * * *

Glorfindel groaned as he sank into the swirling, hot water of Mirkwood's baths. It wasn't quite as nice as his own private bath at home, but he was so tired and so travel worn that he really did not care. On the far side of the baths, were two Silvan Elves, by the looks of them, they were members of the palace guard. They chatted quietly to one another as he closed his eyes and allowed his head to rest on the cool stone.

The twins joined him soon after he entered the baths and sat beside him.

"Glorfindel? Are you sleeping?" Elrohir asked.

"Nay, Elrohir, I am not."

"What did you think of the king? He was an unusual elf by all accounts," Elladan added.

"Yes, that he was," Glorfindel answered

The sound of an elf clearing his throat behind them caused the three to turn and look up. Thranduil's assistant stood behind them, his slender hands clasped behind his back, his silver hair neatly pulled away from his face.

"My Lord Glorfindel," he began quietly. "I am his majesty's personal assistant. He instructed me to inform you that he will dine with you privately this evening, in his personal dining room. I will arrive at your door at the chime of the gathering bell to escort you to him. Your companions will be entertained by the prince."

"Hannon le," Glorfindel answered.

The elf bowed his head, then turned on his heel and disappeared into the steam of the baths.

Elladan and Elrohir smirked to one another. Thranduil's reputation for appreciating beauty in both males and females was well known, and it appeared to them that his majesty quite appreciated their tutor's beauty. The Elda shot both of them a harsh glance as he rose from the hot water, finding a towel and robe nearby.

"Enjoy your dinner, seneschal," Elrohir called after him.

"We will enjoy ours," Elladan chimed in.

The Elda grumbled as he made his way out of the baths and back toward his room.

* * * *

Glorfindel sat on the side of the comfortable bed in his guestroom, toweling the ends of his hair. A chambermaid had already turned down the bedcovers, unpacked his clothing and personal items, lit a few lanterns to provide light, and set out fresh flowers in a vase on a small table. His room was moderately furnished, with an average size, plain bed, a dressing table, a full-length mirror, an armoire, a small table and two chairs. The bed, while simple, was covered in rich velvet linens and soft silk sheets, and the pillows were plump and soft. It appeared the entire household staff was conspiring with the king, as when the Elda returned he found clothing laid out for him as well. The chambermaid took the liberty of delivering a somewhat formal, but by all appearances comfortable, robe of a pale shimmering gold. The fabric was thin, but not so thin as to be revealing, and was adorned with golden clasps on the front.

He moved to the dressing table and picked up a wooden comb, slowly working it through his damp locks. There were various bottles of lotions and creams sitting upon the table, and Glorfindel pulled the top from one crystal bottle and smelled the contents. "Lavender and Rosemary," he murmured to himself. He shed his robe and began working the lotion into his skin, enjoying the feel and scent of it. When he finished, his hair was dry enough that he set about braiding it in a more formal fashion than he normally wore it. He tied the braids off with fine gold ribbon, also supplied by the chambermaid, then rose to don his new robe.

He stepped into his loincloth, adjusting it so that it fit snugly but not uncomfortably, then gathered the weightless cloth of the robe in his hands and pulled it over his head, taking care not to disturb his braids. He fastened the clasps up the front and turned to view himself in the mirror. The robe fit him perfectly, its long sleeves tapering out at the wrists. The upper half of the robe was fitted neatly to his torso, accentuating his long waist and back, it loosened just above the swell of his buttocks, cascading down to the floor in gentle folds. He slipped on a pair of shoes that matched the robe as he murmured to himself, "This king definitely knows what he wants."

The gathering bell rang out through the halls and shortly after, Thranduil's assistant was knocking on his door. He crossed the room and opened it, then followed the elf down the hall toward the king's private residence.

To be continued…

Mae govannen = well met

Hannon le = thank thee

Summer, 2951, Third Age, Taur-nu-Fuin, Caves of Thranduil

Glorfindel looked around the dining chamber as he heard the door close behind him. It was cozy and private. A hearth sat in the center of one wall, in place of a fire was an iron candelabrum holding nine lit candles illuminating the hearth. The room was furnished with a long, carved, oak table that could seat nine guests, a long sideboard, and off to one side, several plush chairs and a small, low table in the center of them. There was a silken runner upon the dining table with a silver candelabrum holding six white tapered candles. There were also vases with fresh flowers and small crystal bowls sitting around the room that were filled with dried flowers and herbs, giving off a fresh scent. He strolled over to the sideboard and poured himself a goblet of fine Mirkwood brandy, then settled himself into a plush chair to await his host.

A few moments passed, then Glorfindel heard the opening of a door at the far side of the room. He rose from his chair and turned to greet Thranduil Oropherion.

He was thankful for his years and the ability to maintain his composure when the king entered. All thoughts of how imposing Thranduil appeared on his throne earlier that day were erased when he saw the king in that moment. The Sinda's flaxen hair cascaded down his back, coming to rest just above the swell of his buttocks. Four simple braids, held by jeweled combs, swept his hair away from his aristocratic face. To say Thranduil was beautiful did not do the elf justice. Seeing him now, mere feet away, gave Glorfindel a whole new perception of the term 'beautiful'. Thranduil was dressed in robes of deep green and pale silver, elaborate embroidery in the pattern of leaves was inlaid into the rich velvet. The deep, mossy green offset his eyes, which were a rich sapphire blue. The king's eyes, Glorfindel decided, were his most dangerous weapon. When Thranduil looked at him, he felt his blood turn to molten fire and freeze to ice at the same time. The Elda knew there was a pale flush to his skin, but there was nothing to be done about it.

In all his long life, Glorfindel had met few who could intimidate him, but Thranduil verged on having that kind of power. Glorfindel knew the Sindar King was crafty; negotiations with him had always been nerve wracking for both Elrond and Erestor. Thranduil had a subtle way of pinning one into a corner, then totally disarming them. If that tactic did not work, then his powers of persuasion were more than winning. One way or another, the king got what he wanted. That passing thought caused Glorfindel to swallow as he reminded himself why he was there in the first place.

"Good evening, Lord Glorfindel," Thranduil's deep voice echoed in the Elda's ears. "I am pleased that you agreed to dine with me this night." He tilted his head and offered an approving smile. "And the robe fits you quite well. I suspected you did not bring more formal attire on such a long trip."

"Thank you for the invitation, my lord. The robe is lovely; it is quite comfortable," Glorfindel answered as smoothly as he could. "I am grateful to you for your hospitality. Your suspicions were correct, had you not offered me this robe, I would be dining with you in warrior's garb."

Thranduil smiled as he made his way to the sideboard and poured himself a goblet of brandy. "There is no shame in warrior's garb, Lord Glorfindel," he answered. "However, after more than a week astride a horse, I suspected you would be grateful for something more… comfortable."

"Aye, I am indeed, your highness," Glorfindel answered.

Thranduil invited him to sit, and Glorfindel obeyed, setting his goblet down upon the small table as Thranduil joined him. The king's servants brought in trays laden with steaming platters of vegetables, fruits and wild boar, as well as a carafe of aromatic, deep burgundy wine. A slender, male elf lit the candles on the dining table and began setting out the china and cutlery. A female began arranging the chafing dishes and slicing the roast of boar. Glorfindel watched them out of the corner of his eye while he listened to Thranduil. The aroma of the boar and roasted vegetables was causing his mouth to water, and he just then realized how hungry he really was.

Thranduil sensed his guest's attention was only partially on their conversation. "Lord Glorfindel?" he queried with a raised eyebrow.

Glorfindel blinked and smiled, somewhat embarrassed that he had been caught listening to his stomach rather than his host. "Forgive me, your highness," Glorfindel answered deferentially. "I was somewhat distracted by this wonderful meal being prepared."

Thranduil smiled. "Yes, I suppose you have missed having a proper meal. Eating dried fruits and Lembas for days on end can grow tiresome."

Glorfindel chuckled and nodded his head. "Aye, that it can, my lord. Sometimes one needs more than just… base sustenance."

Thranduil smiled somewhat wickedly over the rim of his goblet. "Why, Lord Glorfindel, I had no idea you indulged in more… hedonistic pursuits."

Glorfindel eyed his dinner companion. **So it begins…** he mused, before answering Thranduil. "On occasion, it does no harm to indulge in the finer pleasures in life, my lord. We in Imladris can indulge with the best of Elves or Men."

"Indeed?" Thranduil questioned with a teasing lift of his eyebrow. "While I imagine Imladris' warriors are no strangers to living life to its fullest, I would be surprised if Lord Elrond or Lord Erestor did the same. They have always seemed so very serious to me."

Glorfindel smiled. He had to admit that the game of cat and mouse they were engaged in was entertaining. "I cannot speak to the personal habits of my Lord Elrond or Lord Erestor, but they were both warriors themselves once. I doubt they have forgotten the way of the sword, or the life that goes with it."

Thranduil nodded and raised his glass before taking a sip, allowing his eyes to flicker over Glorfindel's frame briefly.

The female elf addressed them. "My lords, at your leisure. The meal is ready to be served."

"Hannon chen, Eärwen," Thranduil answered, his eyes never leaving Glorfindel's. They rose from their chairs and moved to the dining table, where the staff began serving the meal.

Over dinner, Glorfindel broached the subject of strengthening relations between Thranduil's realm and that of Imladris and Lórien.

Glorfindel glanced up as he sliced into a plump, golden potato. "My lord, if I may, I would like to discuss a political matter with you that is of some importance."

Thranduil waved his fork as he swallowed a bite of wild boar. "I never discuss politics over a meal, Glorfindel. It does bad things for the digestion."

Glorfindel swallowed the bite of potato and cocked his head. "Pardon, my lord, but I thought that was the purpose of meeting this evening. For us to discuss the matter that has brought me here."

Thranduil took a sip of wine and smiled. "Nay, Glorfindel. The purpose of this meeting was for us to grow to know one another better. I never discuss politics with one I do not know well. You and I must get to know one another better before this discussion can take place."

Glorfindel raised an eyebrow. "And do you know my Lord Elrond and Lord Erestor well?"

Thranduil smiled mischievously. "As well as I care to." He took a bite of fresh asparagus.

Glorfindel took a deep breath. He could see he was being manipulated as if he were a game piece on a board. "And how long does it take you to get to know one well, my lord?"

Thranduil answered with a bewitching smile. "That would depend upon how willing one is to be known, I suppose." He took a sip of wine then continued. "Tell me about yourself, Glorfindel."

Glorfindel looked at Thranduil over the rim of his glass. **So this is the game we are playing?** he mused. "What would you like to know, my lord?"

Thranduil swallowed a bite of potato and answered, "Everything, of course."

Glorfindel nodded and cut into the slice of boar on his plate. "As you know, I am Lord Elrond's seneschal and leader of Imladris' forces. I have served my lord for over an age now, and fought in many battles."

Thranduil smiled teasingly. "I do not need your military and professional resume, Glorfindel. Of those facts, I am well aware. No, what I want to know is who you are, personally. What are your likes and dislikes? What is your favorite color? What do you do for relaxation? That sort of thing."

"Ah, yes, well…" Glorfindel placed his fork and knife upon his plate as he sat back in his chair. "My favorite color is blue, much like your eyes… for relaxation I like to ride, swim, and read. I do not dance well, nor can I sing well. I enjoy a good drink now and again. And I prefer male company to female company. Does that answer your questions?"

Thranduil chuckled. "Some, yes. I appreciate your frankness, Glorfindel, and your wit. Lord Elrond did well to send you for this discussion."

Glorfindel cocked his head and answered, "He did not send me, your highness, I volunteered to come."

"And why would you do such a thing?" Thranduil asked. "I know well that there are few in Imladris who would volunteer to come to Taur-e-Ndaedelos and meet with me."

"Perhaps it is because I feel like of all those in Imladris, I understand you best," Glorfindel answered.

Eärwen returned to the room with her young assistant and began clearing the dinner plates. As her assistant carried the dishes out, she placed a platter covered with sweet delicacies in the center of the table and replaced the wineglasses with goblets for brandy. Thranduil caught her by the elbow and she leaned down as he whispered something into her ear, then she departed.

Thranduil selected a small dish of strawberries covered in freshly whipped cream, and sat back in his chair and answered Glorfindel.

"And how is it that you think you understand me, Glorfindel?" He took a bite of a strawberry.

"You are widely misunderstood, my lord," Glorfindel began. "As am I. I am quiet, I do not speak of my past deeds or boast of my accomplishments. Many find me to be aloof, unfriendly or 'stiff' perhaps. We have both lost much to evil and darkness: friends, family, and our homes… We both understand what it is to suffer defeat and to rejoice in victory. We are both warriors at heart, regardless of the other duties that are required of us."

Thranduil nodded. "Aye, what you say is true. But, how is it that I am misunderstood, Glorfindel?"

"I think you know the answer to that question, my lord."

"Aye, but I want to hear you say it. You claim to understand me, let us see if you really do."

Glorfindel took a deep breath and answered the king's question. "You are thought to be arrogant, stubborn, quick to anger, unreasonable, and sometimes cruel. You are thought to harbor envy in your heart for that which you do not have, nor will ever have: a Ring of Power. You are thought to hoard finery in an attempt to make up for not having your heart's desire, and you are thought to hold other elven colonies in disdain and that is believed to be the reason for your withdrawing to the north and moving underground."

It pained Glorfindel to say all those things, but Thranduil insisted upon hearing it. He did not believe that he said anything Thranduil was not aware of, and he felt it to be of grave importance that the king understand those thoughts were not his own.

"I, however, do not think all those things," he added.

"No?" Thranduil asked. His face was still a mask of composure, but Glorfindel could see what was in his heart. "And what do you think, Glorfindel?"

"I think you are arrogant, because you have to be. Arrogance is useful to a leader; we both know that. I think you are stubborn, because you are a warrior and know no other way to be. I think you are quick to anger, for you have suffered much in your life and have much to be angry for." He took a deep breath and continued, "I do not think you are unreasonable, but tenacious in standing up for what you believe. I do not believe you to be cruel, as it is not in the nature of elves to be so. I do think you wish for a Ring of Power, for with it, you could defend your lands and peoples, but I do not think you wish it out of greed. I think you hoard finery, but you do so to give you leverage in trading with elves and men. You do not hold other Elven realms in disdain; rather you turn away from them because of their judgements of you. And I think you withdrew north and moved underground because you knew it was the only way to protect your subjects, and that is the mark of a wise leader."

Glorfindel knew what he was about to do was risky, but his instincts told him it was right. He leaned forward, placed his hand upon Thranduil's, and looked into his eyes. "You wanted to know something about me? I will tell you something I rarely speak of. I watched my city burn, my lord. I heard the screams of those who were dying; I smelled the stench of death as it rose upon the air. I have seen the extent of destruction that the Darkness can unleash, and it haunts me still in my dreams at night. I have seen both the best and the worst that can be, and I fear nothing now, for I have suffered the worst that can be dealt. My king listened to the ill-fated advice of that liar and he refused to abandon the city, though Ecthelion, Tuor, and I counseled him to. Had he withdrawn, had he emptied the city, he would still be alive today, as would my family and friends, and I would never have faced that Balrog. You did the right thing, you let your conscience and your heart rule you, not your warrior's pride, and because of it, your people, and you are alive today. Never let anyone tell you that it was the wrong thing to do; never let anyone call you a coward."

Thranduil blinked as he stared into Glorfindel's indigo eyes. Never had anyone spoken so frankly to him, nor shown him both the courage and the compassion that Glorfindel just did. He nodded. "We understand one another well, Glorfindel," he said softly. "And I am glad of it." He rose from his seat, followed by Glorfindel. He stepped forward, clasped the warrior's forearms, and drew him into an embrace. "I look forward to understanding you better still, mellonen," he whispered into his ear.

Glorfindel was caught off guard by the unexpected display of affection from the king, and he closed his eyes as Thranduil's honeyed voice drifted into his ear.

They separated and Thranduil bowed his head in respect. "Good night to you, Glorfindel."

Glorfindel bowed his head and responded, "Good night, my lord." He watched as Thranduil turned and left the room; then he made his way back to his own bedchamber.

* * * *

Legolas sat at the far end of the dining table, surrounded by those under his command. The twins sat near him and he did his best to entertain them, as was his duty. He had to admit, they were both passing fair: dark, sable hair, large gray eyes, and the aristocratic features that most Noldor seemed to possess. Yet they were different, though Legolas could not exactly explain how. Their skin was just a bit darker than that of most elves, and their build was just a bit broader. They were identical, Legolas could not tell them apart and it made him slightly nervous. He never knew for sure which one he was talking to.

"Tell me…" he began.

"Elladan," the elder Peredhil answered.

"Elladan," Legolas replied. "What is Imladris like?"

"Imladris is a beautiful haven," Elladan answered quietly. "It is a deep canyon with wild rivers fed by many waterfalls. Our father has built the Last Homely House right into the side of the mountain walls, with many terraced passageways leading from the houses to gardens built into the sides of the mountain. It feels as though one is always out of doors, as the design of the residences invites nature in. The soldiers live in the barracks, that is one level down from the main dwellings. However, Elrohir and I live in the main house with our family. The elves that make their homes in our refuge live in the valley just below us."

"Do you travel often?" Legolas asked.

Elladan nodded. "Aye, my grandparents reside in Lórien and we often ride with the Rangers of the North. We make frequent visits to the Golden Wood with our sister, Arwen, and Elrohir's good friend Rúmil is a marchwarden of the Galadhrim."

"I hope to see the Golden Wood one day," Legolas answered.

"It is a beautiful place where the mellyrn touch the sky." Elladan glanced up at the prince and smiled. "What is it like serving under your father?"

Legolas looked at Elladan and returned his smile. "I am proud and honored to serve my adar," he answered. "He has taught me all that I know."

"To command an entire regiment so early in life is a feat to be proud of," Elrohir answered. "Neither Elladan nor I have received such an honor yet."

"Hannon chen, Elrohir. I have worked hard to earn it," Legolas answered with a smile. "Of course, my father's armies do not have the services of one such as Glorfindel. If we did, then I assure you, I would not captain his guard."

"We hear that the elves of your realm are master archers. We would very much like to watch or train with you," Elladan said quietly.

Legolas nodded. "Aye, I do believe that can be arranged." He winked at Elladan and took a sip of his wine.

Elladan's eyes widened as he took a sip of his own wine and glanced toward his twin. He wondered if the prince was flirting with him or just being coy.

* * * *

Glorfindel thought on what had passed between Thranduil and himself as he made his way back down the long hallway toward his room. It seemed the gamble he took in being so open and honest with Thranduil had paid off, and he had gained the king's confidence. Now he had to keep it, and he had to avoid being distracted from his task by his own burgeoning feelings toward the Sinda.

He pushed open the door to his guest chamber and his eyes widened as he took in the sight before him. Candles were burning, casting a pale orange glow about the room. His bed was turned down, and upon it lie a young courtesan. The young Silvan male sat up languorously as Glorfindel closed the door behind him.

"Good evening, Lord Glorfindel," the young male said smoothly. "I am a gift from his majesty, he seemed to think you might enjoy my… talents."

Glorfindel watched as the young male let his legs fall open, exposing a slight rise in the silk of his loincloth. He was otherwise undressed, and his hand roamed lazily up and down his bare chest, pausing frequently to tease his nipples into full arousal. He had to admit the wanton young male was extraordinarily handsome, and the Mirkwood courtesans were known far and wide for their skill and love for their work. However, the Elda was more than a bit confused. He had assumed that Thranduil had designs on him, and the king had appeared to be flirting with him all evening. But Thranduil's abrupt departure from their meeting, and now this 'gift' made Glorfindel wonder if it was not otherwise. It had been a good long time since he had a proper 'tumble', as Erestor would put it, and the Elda decided to take advantage of his majesty's hospitality. To turn down such a lovely gift would be rude, after all.

He began opening the clasps on his robe, a wolfish grin curving his lips as he crossed the room to the bed.

To be continued…

Hannon chen = thank you

Mellonen = my friend

Summer, 2951, Third Age, Taur-nu-Fuin, Caves of Thranduil

A soft knock fell upon Thranduil's door, first twice, then once, then five times. He called for his visitor to enter, and his most favorite courtesan came through the door and quietly closed it behind him.

"Lord Glorfindel is sleeping peacefully, my liege," the courtesan said softly.

Thranduil was sitting up in his bed, the sheets folded over his waist. He extended his hand to the young courtesan and smiled. "Excellent work, Agladir," he said softly. "Come to me now."

Agladir smiled sultrily and shed his robe, his lithe, nude body sliding under the sheets and into Thranduil's arms.

"Was he in proper need of you, pen-velui?" Thranduil whispered seductively.

"In desperate need, my lord," Agladir answered with a purr.

"Excellent."

"You really should not be surprised, my liege. How could anyone spend time in your company and not leave it in a needful way?"

Thranduil laughed huskily. "You are a notorious flirt, Agladir, and a flatterer."

Agladir laughed softly. "I need be, considering my occupation. But I would never flatter you idly, my lord."

"Of course not, my minx," Thranduil responded with a low growl.

"I should bathe first, do you not think so?" Agladir whispered breathlessly as his king's lips caressed his neck.

"Nay, my jewel," Thranduil answered in deep whisper. "I rather like the way our Lord Glorfindel tastes upon your skin."

Agladir laughed huskily as Thranduil rolled on top of him. "Then you should be most pleased by how my mouth tastes… among other things."

"Ai, my wicked, wanton lovely. You do say the most delicious things." Thranduil fisted Agladir's hair and plundered his mouth, the young elf's wanton moans urging his passion on.

Agladir wrapped his legs around his king, rolling his hips forward and pressing his swollen arousal into Thranduil's stomach. The king released his mouth and teased his ear, causing him to whimper plaintively.

Thranduil worked his way down Agladir's lithe body, pausing to tease his nipples into aching peaks. "Mmm… he has been here I see," Thranduil murmured against the courtesan's chest.

"Yes, my lord," Agladir answered in a breathless whisper.

Thranduil nipped at the inflamed nipples, sending jolts straight to Agladir's groin, then soothed them with long strokes of his tongue. He continued lower, spreading Agladir's long legs apart as he brushed his lips through the soft hair that grew about the base of his courtesan's arousal.

"And he has been here as well," Thranduil whispered huskily.

Agladir was panting heavily now, the sheets wadded in his fists as the king teased his engorged length. He nodded and answered with a hoarse, "Yes…"

Thranduil teased Agladir's length with his tongue. He could smell the rosemary and lavender trail that Glorfindel's skin had left upon the courtesan's body, and he could taste where the Elda's sweet mouth had been.

"So needful, Agladir… so wanton and shameless in how you offer yourself to me," the king purred.

"There is no shame in wanting you this way, my lord," Agladir ground out from his clenched jaw. "Nor am I too proud to beg you…"

"Mmm… and beg you shall, my precious, before I am through."

Thranduil took his courtesan's length in his mouth and sucked hard, before allowing it to slide from his lips, pausing to suckle the purpled tip before releasing him.

Agladir cried out as his lord took his length into the back of his throat once. He arched against him, endeavoring to thrust upward into his warm, wet mouth, before collapsing upon the bed again. His skin was covered in a fine sheen of sweat, his heart hammered an insistent rhythm in his chest, and he could feel the beginnings of his release begin to build.

Thranduil worked his way lower still, lapping at the soft pouch of skin beneath Agladir's swollen length as he whispered, "No place left untouched by him…"

"No…" Agladir whispered again, near sobbing with need.

Thranduil continued his exploration, the tip of his tongue circling the small entrance to Agladir's body. "I suppose this is where he finished, yes?" he whispered huskily.

"Ai! Yes, oh yes, my lord. Please, please do not torment me any longer…" Agladir pleaded.

"No, no more torment…" Thranduil responded.

Thranduil thrust his tongue inside his courtesan's body and Agladir cried out as his length twitched and wept heavily. Agladir arched against the bed, spreading his legs as far apart as he could manage. Thranduil could indeed taste Glorfindel inside Agladir, the Elda's sweet essence mingling with the unique flavor that his courtesan possessed. His own arousal pulsated, swollen and weeping with need. Thranduil rose to his knees, reaching across Agladir's trembling body and retrieving a phial of almond oil to ease the passage. The king thoroughly coated himself with the oil and spread it deep inside Agladir with two fingers before placing the phial back on the bedside table.

Thranduil draped his courtesan's legs over his shoulders, and as the tip of his arousal nudged Agladir's entrance he whispered, "Are you ready for me, melethron?"

Agladir clutched at his king's back and nodded. "Aye, my lord. Please, make me wait no longer…"

"As you wish," Thranduil murmured against Agladir's lips.

He entered his courtesan's body in one smooth thrust, his swollen length enveloped by Agladir's warm, pulsating heat. He immediately set a punishing pace, thrusting in and withdrawing to the tip before sliding in again.

Agladir cried out, clutching his lord's shoulders as Thranduil rode him mercilessly. It seemed to go on forever, the room echoing with their moans and growls of pleasure. Agladir pleaded with his lord to allow him to touch himself; his whimpering cries echoed in Thranduil's ears. His lord acquiesced, and he gripped his own length, stroking it in time with Thranduil's thrusts. He cried out as he found his release, his seed spilling over his hand and onto his stomach.

Thranduil groaned as Agladir's body tightened around him and he buried himself to the hilt, filling the courtesan's body with his essence as it mingled with that of Glorfindel's. Thranduil's arms trembled slightly as he held his weight off his lithe lover. The Sinda's head hung down, his hair shrouding both their faces as he struggled to catch his breath and his length twitched with decreasing frequency inside Agladir's body. He felt Agladir's legs trembling on his shoulders and he gently slid from his courtesan's body, softly guiding Agladir's legs to the bed. He nuzzled his courtesan's mouth with his own and whispered huskily, "That was most pleasing, Agladir."

Agladir chucked weakly and nodded. "Aye, my lord. And I thank you for it."

Thranduil smiled against his lips. "Come, my beauty, you have earned a good, long soak in my bath. He gathered up the trembling courtesan in his arms, and carried him to his private baths where he held him and washed him thoroughly. He dropped soft kisses to Agladir's temples and face as he stroked his skin. He then carried the courtesan from the bath back to his chamber where he slid one of his own robes over the young elf's head and laid him upon his bed. He slid underneath the covers and Agladir rolled into his arms, the courtesan's silver head resting upon his shoulder. They both drifted into reverie and slept for the few remaining hours before dawn.

* * * *

Glorfindel stretched and yawned as he awoke, his satiated body coming to life after being deep in reverie. His young companion had discreetly left in the middle of the night and he thought to himself that he really must thank the king for such excellent hospitality. He sighed as he lay upon his back and stared at the ceiling in the dim light. Spending time underground was making him groggy and he resolved to make his way out of the caves and into the sunshine that day.

He yawned once more, then threw the covers back and sat up, swinging his feet over the side of the bed. He sat there for a few moments, his tired muscles groaning their complaint. He then rose and made his way to the armoire, retrieving the bathing robe he had been given the day before and making his way barefoot to the guest baths.

As he rounded the corner, he saw Elladan talking with the prince. They were chatting amiably and Legolas smiled broadly and nodded. The prince then tugged upon Elladan's sleeve and they made their way down another corridor, bows and quivers in tow. Glorfindel smiled to himself as he continued on to the baths. It seemed his pupil was making new friends easily. Perhaps Elladan and Elrohir would learn that Taur-e-Ndaedelos was not such a bad place after all.

Glorfindel bathed quickly then made his way back to his chamber, where he dressed for the day. He noticed that the chambermaid had been there while he was out and made the bed, placed fresh flowers in his room, and replenished his stock of candles. She also brought a bundle that contained his clothes from the day before, apparently she laundered them sometime during the night or morning. He decided to make a trip down to the stables before the morning meal and check on Asfaloth.

The Elda stepped out into the hallway, getting his bearings as he tried to remember the direction in which the stables lay. He turned to his left and made his way down the corridors, taking a few wrong turns then backtracking. He found himself back in the main corridor and he let out a sigh in frustration as he retraced his steps. A deep chuckle caused him to turn and he found Thranduil standing behind him.

"Good morning, my lord," he said somewhat sheepishly.

"Lost are we?" Thranduil teased.

Glorfindel flushed briefly then nodded. "Aye, these corridors are a maze, my lord."

Thranduil smiled. "There is reason behind my madness, Glorfindel. What are you trying to find?"

Glorfindel smiled in return. "I was hoping to find the stables, my lord."

Thranduil took the warrior by the elbow and nodded. "Come with me."

As they made their way down the various corridors, Thranduil continued their conversation. "The corridors are confusing to those who do not live here. The reasoning behind that is to confuse unwanted visitors."

Glorfindel nodded. "So if, by some unlikely chance the gates are overrun, then the intruders will not be able to easily find the residences nor the barracks."

Thranduil smiled. "That is exactly right, my wise friend. The time they spend lost in the hallways is time that my subjects can use to escape. They also serve as a trap, where my guards can pick off the intruders. One never knows what evil may come, so I try to plan for even the worst of events." He sighed. "While I possess some magic, as many elves do, my powers cannot stand against the full might of the Dark Lord. Should he launch a full-scale attack, my magic alone would not protect us. It is then that I would have to rely on the valor and strength of my warriors, and the design of the caves, to protect those who cannot protect themselves."

"There are none who can stand alone against the full might of the Dark Lord," Glorfindel answered. "The time will come again when the kindred of Elves and of Men must reunite in battle against him." He took the opportunity to broach the subject of his visit again. "That is precisely why my Lord Elrond wished for me to come, to…"

Thranduil held up his hand. "You will not bait me into this conversation before breakfast, Glorfindel. You, Elrond's sons, and your horses need rest before returning home. This conversation can wait for a day or so. Furthermore, I thought you told me you volunteered to come here. Have you grown weary of my hospitality so soon? Have the gifts I bestowed upon you not been to your liking?"

Glorfindel shook his head. "No… I mean, yes... I mean… no, my lord. I have not grown weary of your hospitality. And yes, the gifts you have bestowed upon me are very much to my liking." The Elda continued with a smile, "Particularly the one that was waiting for me in my room upon my return last night."

Thranduil smiled. "Ah yes, Agladir. He is my personal favorite, very talented, very dedicated to his craft."

Glorfindel raised an eyebrow. "Your personal favorite, my lord? Does that mean that you and he…"

Thranduil laughed as they rounded a corner. "But of course, Glorfindel. Did you imagine I would send one that I did not know personally? You are a distinguished guest in my home, I personally selected Agladir for you."

Glorfindel caught himself blushing uncharacteristically. "No, of course not, my lord."

They passed through the rotunda and Glorfindel had his bearings again. They continued down the hallway to the main courtyard, then tracked left to the passage that led to the stables. As they stepped out into the bright sunlight, Glorfindel took a deep breath and a smile curved his lips.

Thranduil smiled and laughed softly. "Not accustomed to spending time beneath ground?"

Glorfindel leaned his head back, letting the sunshine warm his face. "Nay, my lord. I am rarely indoors, much less underground."

Thranduil nodded. "Yes, well, the dwellings here are very different from those in Imladris. We could never live like that here, we would be far too vulnerable." Thranduil watched the Elda as he stretched and soaked up the sunshine. Anor's light caused his hair to shine and skin to glow. **What a rare beauty,** the king mused.

Glorfindel turned and caught Thranduil staring at him with a bewitching smile upon his lips. He cocked his head and quietly addressed him. "May we meet to discuss the matter upon which I have come? If your schedule would allow it, of course."

Thranduil smiled. "I do not know my own schedule, Glorfindel. Meet with my assistant, he will see to it that you have time to meet with me. Come, let us look in on your horse then see what my staff has prepared for us to eat this morning."

Glorfindel nodded as they entered the stables.

To be continued…

Pen-velui = lovely one

Melethron = lover (male)

Summer, 2951, Third Age, Taur-nu-Fuin, Caves of Thranduil

Weeks passed and the king stalled Glorfindel. The Elda had yet to have more than a cursory conversation with the king about the matter for which he was sent. Either Thranduil was too busy, not in the mood, or one of many other excuses that kept Glorfindel from completing his mission and returning home.

Glorfindel and the twins had been in Mirkwood for nearly two weeks. Glorfindel spent his days in Thranduil's court, observing the king and hoping to find an inroad to his mind. When he was not in court or shadowing Thranduil, he was with the twins, or spending the occasional evening partaking of Agladir's talents. Elladan and Elrohir had taken to spending time with Mirkwood's palace guard and sharing their own training and combat experiences with the Silvan warriors. In turn, Legolas and his guard were sharing what they knew of stealth and archery with the twins.

Elladan took a bite of cranberry muffin, followed by a sip of fresh apple juice as he followed Legolas to the training arena. Elrohir followed, talking with Legolas' second about hand-to-hand combat tactics as he munched on a sweet roll.

The Mirkwood Elves were known for their stealth capabilities. All elves moved silently, and many used trees as the Galadhrim did, however, it was said that the Elves of Mirkwood could sneak up on anything, even another elf. But when it came to close combat, Legolas knew his troops could learn a thing or two from the legendary orc slayers.

Normally the twins were up with the sun, but being underground played havoc with their normal sense of time. They were awoken by Legolas knocking on their respective doors that morning; the prince had personally called them to breakfast. However, there had been little time to enjoy a leisurely meal, as Legolas practically dragged them from the dining hall soon after their arrival.

"Do you not eat, Legolas?" Elladan asked as he matched the prince's long stride.

"I have been up for hours, Elladan," Legolas responded. "We do not sleep as late as those of you in Imladris."

Elrohir snorted as he listened to the prince tease his elder brother. "Sleep late?" Elladan protested. "Nay, ernilen, we are up with the sun at home."

Legolas chuckled. "This morning, you were up with the sloth, mellonen."

Elrohir laughed aloud and shook his head when his elder brother shot him a disapproving glance. He was happy that Legolas had taken a liking to Elladan. His elder twin could use some teasing from someone other than himself to lighten his mood. Elladan bore the mantle of heir more heavily than Elrohir did; he had inherited their father's solemnity; and their mother's ordeal, while difficult for all, had been harder on Elladan than on Elrohir. Elrohir wanted to see his twin shed some of his serious nature and enjoy life. He also hoped that Elladan and Legolas might make a match. He caught the sidelong glances Legolas sent his twin's way, and he saw the amorous looks Elladan sent Legolas' way when the prince was not looking.

Both he and Elladan had experimented upon reaching their majority and experiencing the awakening of their bodies. They had lain with both males and females. Elrohir had no clear preference, though upon meeting Rúmil, he had forgone the company of anyone else. He and Rúmil were not bonded, officially, but they were committed to one another.

Elladan, however, had shown a clear preference for males; he found they were better suited for his moods and temperament. Elrohir's elder twin would sometimes slip into such a sullen and serious state, that the more sensitive females would take issue with his grousing and soon leave him to his own bad mood. Males, however, understood the pressures upon Elladan, and shared similar points of view and interests. This made things simpler for the elder Peredhil, and he found he did not need to explain himself to his male companions. Elladan had yet to meet one that he wished to be with above all others, and for many years after their mother's passing, he had forgone the pleasures of the flesh altogether. Elrohir knew his twin was lonely, that he yearned to have someone to call lover and friend, and he worried that Elladan had withdrawn so far into himself as to never be reached. As Elrohir watched the young Sinda prince smile beguilingly at his elder brother and tease him with a boldness that few displayed with Elladan, he saw hope where he had feared there was none. While he wished Elladan would find someone in Imladris that he could care for, Legolas came closer to garnering Elladan's affections than any before him.

Elrohir's attention turned back to his twin and Legolas as he heard his brother bark, "You are teasing me!"

Legolas laughed aloud and nodded. "You are just now beginning to understand this? Aiya, Elladan, you really do need to learn to laugh. Perhaps your doublet is too tight?"

"Doublet?!? Why… you… You think yourself funny, young prince… I will show you who is funny…"

A wicked expression crossed Elladan's face as he lunged at Legolas. The prince barked in laughter and spun, heading off at a run down the long corridor toward the practice arena, pursued closely by Elladan. Elrohir laughed aloud and he and his companion ran after the sparring pair.

* * * *

Glorfindel wandered the halls of Thranduil's caves, slowly getting his bearings and finding that he could finally navigate the complicated passageways. He turned to his right and heard the echoing sounds of wood against wood and the grunts of exertion that could only come from combat training. He stepped into a large open arena. Along the walls were terraced benches for spectators, and at the far end was a door and passageway that led to the barracks. In the center of the oval room, the floor was covered with sand and the space was enclosed by a low wall to allow the audience to watch the contests held within. Presently, the only ones watching were the off-duty palace guard, and in the center were ten elves, the finest of Legolas' choosing. Elladan and Elrohir were leading a training session on hand-to-hand combat and swordplay in close confines.

"It is like a dance," Elrohir began. "You do dance here in Taur-nu-Fuin, do you not?"

"Yes, my lord," the recruits answered in unison.

"Sparring is not altogether different from actual combat. The only difference is that in combat, real weapons are used and your foe is most likely considering having you as their next meal." He smiled at Elladan. "Come, watch and see what I mean." He waived to his brother and Elladan stepped forward, swinging his wooden training sword to familiarize himself with its weight and balance.

They slowly circled one another, each swinging their swords and watching the other. Elladan nodded with a slight twitch of his head and brought his sword around from the right in a broad sweeping arc. Elrohir blocked the movement by thrusting his sword forward, perpendicular to the angle of Elladan's blade.

Elrohir raised his voice and continued as he and Elladan carried out a slow dance of thrust and parry. "The trick is to watch your opponent, to anticipate his movements, so that you know how to effectively counterattack. But you cannot watch too closely, as you must be aware of all that moves around you. Yrch are much slower than we are, and they give many signals as to what their next move will be. As you know, they carry heavy weaponry and it requires greater leverage and brute strength to move it. Keeping distance between you and your foe will give you the time you need to see the pattern building, to know how to counter his movements."

Elladan chimed in as he stepped backward and blocked Elrohir's thrust. "Yrch are also heavily armored, and that can be a disadvantage as well as an advantage." He grinned as Elrohir took on the stance and movement of an orc. "They are slower, far more clumsy then you, use this to your advantage…" With a slight grunt, Elladan leapt forward and up, turning a flip in midair, landing behind Elrohir and spinning around to face him. He snickered as Elrohir grunted and feigned confusion by scratching his head and he clocked his twin square between the shoulder blades, watching Elrohir stagger forward in an exaggerated fashion. Legolas and his soldiers broke out in laughter as Elrohir staggered and grunted in the guise of an orc.

Glorfindel stepped forward from the sidelines, clapping and laughing as he approached. A hushed murmur of awe came from the bystanders upon seeing the great Glorfindel in their midst. "Well done, Elladan, Elrohir. While this was a most entertaining display, you have forgotten one crucial element."

"What is that, my lord?" Elladan asked.

Glorfindel took up a wooden training sword and motioned to Elrohir with a twitch of his head. "Yrch rarely take on an elf alone, they travel in packs…"

Glorfindel and Elrohir simultaneously advanced upon Elladan and the elder Peredhil fought hard to fend them both off. "One more thing you forgot to mention, Elladan," Glorfindel shouted as he and Elrohir took swings at Elladan. "These elves may face evil men as well one day, and men are not to be underestimated."

The sparring suddenly increased in intensity, accompanied by gasps from the onlookers, and Elladan was beginning to tire. He saw the end coming; his teacher would yet again pummel him into the dirt, when he heard a whistle come from the sidelines. He turned quickly to catch a second training sword tossed his way and was then joined by Legolas, who immediately drew Elrohir off him.

"We rarely fight alone," Legolas shouted above the din of clacking wood. "We always fight in pairs."

Elrohir was tiring as Legolas assaulted him with furious intensity. He was amazed at the speed and skill that the young prince possessed. It did not hurt that the prince was fresh and he was beginning to tire after strenuous training. Five blinding thrusts were cast at him before his sword finally left his hand and the mock blade of Legolas' sword was at his throat. He smiled as he panted and bowed his head. Legolas smiled in return, lowering the sword to the ground as he too bowed.

As the prince began to rise, he felt a wooden blade at the back of his neck and he turned his head to see Glorfindel standing over him. "Evil men and yrch offer no quarter, ernilen. Remember that."

"Aye, you speak truly, Lord Glorfindel," Legolas answered quietly. "I should have kept you in my sights, and engaged you upon defeating my foe."

Glorfindel smiled as he lowered his training sword and the prince stood upright. "It would not have mattered, ernilen; I would have defeated you nonetheless. However, in a true battle, that would be the right thing to do. Never lose track of your foe."

Legolas smiled and nodded in response then looked over Glorfindel's shoulder to see Elladan sprawled in the sand, a humble smile upon his lips as he slowly shook his head.

"Well done!"

Thranduil entered the arena from the main door, and all those present bowed their heads in respect. The king approached his son and placed a hand upon his shoulder, then nodded to the guards who stood at ease. "You have proven you can defeat a woodland prince, Glorfindel. But what of a king? One who is more evenly matched in years of experience?" He opened the clasps on his robe and removed the heavy garment, leaving him dressed in a thin undershirt, leggings, and boots. He handed Legolas the robe and his crown then took up his son's training sword and smiled at Glorfindel. "Come Glorfindel, you have yet many years and battles over me. Surely I should not be too much more of a challenge?"

Glorfindel smiled and pressed the mock blade to his forehead in a salute. Thranduil returned the gesture and Legolas helped Elladan up and out of the way.

"Now this should be interesting," Elrohir murmured.

Elladan nodded in reply and Legolas cocked an eyebrow. "And why do you say this?" the prince asked.

"We have never seen anyone defeat Glorfindel," Elladan answered quietly. "Ever."

A wry grin curved Legolas' lips. "Well, this should prove interesting indeed, for there are none who have defeated my father."

The two warriors circled one another slowly, observing how the other's weight shifted, looking for any sign of weakness in stance or form. The twitch of Glorfindel's shoulder muscle was nearly imperceptible, indeed quite invisible to an inexperienced eye, but Thranduil caught it and brought his sword up just in time to block a heavily thrown blow to his left. From the moment Glorfindel's sword moved, the assault upon the Sindar King was relentless. Nevertheless, Thranduil matched him blow for blow, their training swords clacking loudly as they were brought together time and again.

Glorfindel caught a handful of Thranduil's hair as the king warded off another blow and recovered with a spin. However, Thranduil did not yield, rather he hooked his boot on Glorfindel's ankle and brought the Elda down with him. Their swords slid through the sand as their bodies impacted the ground with enough force to make some of the onlookers wince. They wrestled and rolled across the ground, their skin beaded with sweat from the exertion, their breath coming heavy as they grappled with one another.

Glorfindel came out on top, pinning one of Thranduil's wrists to the ground over his head and holding the king beneath him with his weight. However, Glorfindel was unable to escape the vice-like hold Thranduil had on his throat, and the Elda knew that all Thranduil need do was squeeze and he would be rendered incapacitated. The two stared into one another's dark eyes as they gasped for air.

"Do you yield?" Glorfindel ground out from his clenched jaw.

"No. Do you?" Thranduil growled from beneath the Elda's weight.

They continued to stare at one another as the spectators held their breath. Without realizing it, Legolas had taken hold of Elladan's wrist and was squeezing it. The Peredhil cast a sidelong glance at the young prince and leaned against him.

"Come now, you two…" Elrohir finally broke the silence. "Are we to stand here all day or will you call it a draw? It must be nearing time for the midday meal…"

Glorfindel's mouth curved into a wry grin and the king nodded.

"It is a draw," Thranduil announced.

"Yes, a draw," Glorfindel concurred. The Elda was grateful when Thranduil released his throat, and Thranduil was equally grateful to have his freedom of movement back as Glorfindel released his wrist and rose off him.

Glorfindel extended his hand and Thranduil took it. The Sinda smiled knowingly at him as he rose and bowed his head.

"Well fought, mellonen," Thranduil said genuinely.

"Aye, you were a worthy opponent," Glorfindel replied.

The recruits applauded along with the twins and Legolas, and the crowd slowly made its way out of the training arena.

Glorfindel's eyes widened and he stifled a yelp as he felt the king's hand brush his backside. He turned and Thranduil smiled wickedly.

"It appears I have made a mess out of you, Glorfindel," Thranduil said quietly.

Glorfindel looked at the king then looked at himself, and saw they were both peppered with sand. He smiled coyly and reached out, brushing the sand from Thranduil's chest as he answered, "You are a mess as well, my lord."

Glorfindel's fingertips brushed over a small ring in the king's nipple and his hand paused without his bidding. He detected a slight gasp from Thranduil and looked to see the king's eyelids flutter for a brief second. "Pardon, my lord," he said, his voice no more than a whisper.

"No offense taken, Glorfindel," Thranduil answered softly.

Glorfindel removed his hand and began brushing the sand off his own clothes. "I appreciate your decorum, my lord," Glorfindel began. "We both know you could have…"

"What?" Thranduil responded. "Rendered an honored guest and Lord Elrond's captain unconscious in front of the heirs to Imladris and my palace guard? That would not have been a wise diplomatic decision, mellonen. At any rate, luck found me in that position. I have never faced a foe that was as skilled and elegant in battle as you are."

Glorfindel bowed his head briefly. "You were a most worthy opponent, my lord."

"Glorfindel, would you do me a favor?" Thranduil asked quietly.

"Of course, my lord. What would you have of me?"

Thranduil raised an eyebrow as he contemplated that loaded question, but decided to play fair. "Would you start calling me by my name? I consider you a friend now, I would not have you stand on ceremony."

Glorfindel smiled and nodded. "Aye, Thranduil, I will do that. But only when you and I are alone."

The two warriors left the training arena and headed toward their respective chambers to change for the midday meal.

To be continued.

Ernilen = my prince

Mellonen = my friend

Summer, 2951, Third Age, Taur-nu-Fuin, Caves of Thranduil

Glorfindel entered the baths and found Elladan and Elrohir soaking in the warm water, quietly talking with one another. They looked up and smiled as the Elda entered.

"Mae govannen, seneschal," Elladan said quietly.

"Mae govannen, Elladan, Elrohir," Glorfindel answered. He stripped his sweat and sand soiled shirt and leggings and dropped them in a corner before stepping out of his loincloth and entering the water.

"That was quite an experience this morning," Elladan commented as the Elda moved to sit by them.

"Really?" Glorfindel remarked casually. "I thought your training session was done very well. I am sure the prince appreciated it."

"We have never seen you face one who presented such a challenge, Glorfindel," Elrohir added. "To see you at your best was a rare privilege."

"Aye," Elladan chimed in. "You have not been so engaged on patrol. You fought the king with more vigor than you fight many yrch."

Glorfindel's lips curved into slight grin. "Well, yrch do not move with the speed and precision that King Thranduil does. Based on his skill and the stealth capabilities of his guard, I can see why they have held off Shadow longer than many expected. Prince Legolas seems to be nearing his father in skill, but he is still young and untested." Glorfindel raised an eyebrow and cast a glance at Elladan. "But I suppose that will change in time."

Elrohir stifled a snort. "Aye, the prince is… eager to learn. Ai!" Elrohir jumped and rubbed his thigh under the water after Elladan gave it a pinch.

Glorfindel suppressed a laugh as he closed his eyes and leaned his head back upon the stone.

Elladan quickly changed the subject. "The king seems to have taken a liking to you, seneschal. Perhaps our stay will not be prolonged further as you originally feared?"

Glorfindel sighed as he relished the warm water soaking into his weary muscles, washing the sweat of exertion away. "This is a diplomatic mission, Elladan. These things resolve themselves in their own time; one cannot rush diplomacy. We may be here a few more days yet, or longer, time will tell. The purpose of this visit is to form bonds of friendship. The best course of action may yet be to linger for a time. One cannot build a friendship overnight."

Elrohir nodded. "Aye this is true. Patience would be a most prudent and valuable virtue at this time. Besides, the guard could use some more training and guidance. Perhaps we should accompany the prince on patrol, in order to see for ourselves the conditions in which they fight?"

Glorfindel's instinct was to deny permission for the twins to do so. Patrol in Mirkwood was not something to be taken lightly. But then, the twins were no longer youths, they were in the full bloom of their adulthood and they had seen and done much since their mother passed over the sea; he needed to treat them as such. They were still under his charge, in a sense, as they served beneath him in a military capacity, and were it any other warriors with him, he would agree that patrol was a good idea. He could not treat them differently, no matter who their father was.

"If you think that is best and wise," Glorfindel answered Elrohir. "But be on your guard, there are things in this wood that you have yet to face. Fighting ungol and wargs is not the same as fighting yrch."

Elrohir nodded. "Understood, seneschal. We will take the appropriate measures and take care of one another." He tapped his twin on the shoulder. "Come, Elladan. Let us dress for the midday meal and see to our horses. We can find the prince and speak with him about accompanying a patrol."

"Take care not to get lost in the corridors," Glorfindel called after them. "They are a confusing maze."

Elladan nodded and they rose from the baths, leaving the Elda to his thoughts.

* * * *

As they walked down the short hallway to their adjoining rooms, Elladan gently nudged his twin. "Elrohir?"

"Yes, muindor?" Elrohir answered.

"Do you miss Rúmil?" Elladan asked quietly.

"Aye, I do." Elrohir answered truthfully. "But he need not be with me physically for me to feel the connection between us, and we see one another as often as we may."

Elladan nodded. "You love him, yes?"

Elrohir smiled and nodded. "Aye, very much."

"Will you bond with him?" Elladan queried.

"I want to. But I suppose we both need time to see how our love will grow."

They reached their rooms and Elladan paused with his hand upon the door handle. Elrohir looked at his twin and cocked his head.

"Is something the matter, Elladan?" he asked quietly.

"Did it happen quickly?" Elladan asked.

"Quickly?" Elrohir stepped closer to his twin. "You mean love?"

"Aye love," Elladan answered.

A smile curved Elrohir's full lips and he placed his hand upon his twin's shoulder. "Yes. I think that is how it is supposed to be, Elladan. When one finds the one they love, the heart knows it long before the mind."

"Were you afraid, Elrohir? When you first started caring for Rúmil?" Elladan's voice had dropped to almost a whisper.

Elrohir leaned closer and pressed his forehead against Elladan's. "Very much so, muindor. Love is a frightening thing, far more frightening than the greatest orch." He stroked his twin's hair. "But soon the fear fades away, and what you are left with is a warmth that settles into your soul." He pulled back and looked at his twin. "Why all these questions, Elladan? You have never spoken to me about Rúmil before."

Elladan shrugged and took a deep breath. "I have been meaning to. I was just never sure how or when to ask the questions."

"Is there someone you think you might love, Elladan?" Elrohir asked softly.

"I know not," Elladan answered. "I am too afraid to find out."

Elrohir sighed and shook his head. "Do not be so afraid that you seal your heart away from those who might reach it, Elladan. Our lives are long, I would not see you alone for that time."

Elladan nodded and forced a smile. "Come, we need to dress if we are to get to the dining hall before all the food is gone."

Elrohir nodded and turned back to his door, smiling once more at his twin as they entered their rooms.

* * * *

Glorfindel sat against the side of the pool, his arms stretched out on the ledge and his head leaning back against the cool stone. He was thinking of the events of the past couple of weeks, and wondering how best to broach the subject of his visit with Thranduil again. He felt the presence of another and opened his eyes. Thranduil crouched next to the water, leaning over the Elda. A broad smile curved the king's lips, his flaxen hair was pulled back into a single braid, and he was dressed for riding.

"I am curious, Glorfindel," the king began in a low voice.

Glorfindel did not move as he answered the king. "Yes, Thranduil?"

"I am curious as to what it is that you are thinking about just now. I suspect it is the reason for your coming to my realm."

"Aye, that, among other things," Glorfindel answered.

"Are you in a hurry to leave this place, Glorfindel?" Thranduil asked frankly.

"I was, though I find I no longer am," Glorfindel answered honestly.

A smile curved the king's lips and he replied, "That is good, for I would have you stay awhile longer. You and I have just begun to know one another, and I already find myself seeking your company."

Glorfindel found himself distracted by Thranduil's deep voice and woodsy scent. He could not pry his eyes away from the king's lips as they moved, nor from the Sinda's eyes when he was silent. He found himself wondering what those lips would taste like, what they would feel like upon his flesh, upon his own mouth. He realized he wanted to know what it was like to look into those sapphire pools as they darkened in passion, and as they cleared upon waking from reverie. It had been a very long time since he had looked at another in that way, or felt the things he was feeling in that moment.

He had desired others, yes. He had even indulged in taking lovers in Imladris. But the things he was thinking now, the things he found he wanted to know about the king were not things he had wanted to know about anyone since he had returned to Middle-earth.

"Come, mellonen. Let us go for a ride, yes? Eärwen has packed some delicacies to take with us, and there is yet much of the forest for you to see."

Glorfindel's lips curved into a smile and he rose from his place on the stone bench, making for the edge of the pool. As he climbed out of the water, Thranduil handed him a warm cloth to dry himself with and averted his eyes respectfully as the Elda toweled himself dry and donned his robe.

"I will meet you by the stables… that is, if you think you can find the way," Thranduil teased.

Glorfindel chuckled. "Aye, I think I can do that, Thranduil."

The king nodded and departed the baths, leaving Glorfindel to make his way back to his quarters to dress.

To be continued…

Muindor = brother by blood

Mellonen = my friend

Summer, 2951, Third Age, Taur-nu-Fuin, Caves of Thranduil

Elladan sat at the long table, quartering an apple he had just selected from a platter of fresh fruit before him. On his plate were several slices of cheese, two generous pieces of fresh, warm bread, some dried fruits, sliced meats, and some freshly sliced vegetables. Elrohir sat on the other side of the table from him, two seats down, amiably chatting with Legolas' second in command about the display earlier that morning.

Elladan's gray eyes scanned the room in quick passes, and he felt the slow twist of disappointment flare in his stomach when Legolas was nowhere to be seen. He concentrated on the action of his knife as he peeled and cored the apple slices. He felt more than saw an elf sit down next to him, and his brow furrowed as the elf slid closer. He looked up and felt his heart leap as he looked into the bright, sapphire eyes of the Prince of Mirkwood.

"It is noisy in here, no?" Legolas asked his new friend.

"Aye, many are still talking of the display Glorfindel and your father put on this morning in the arena," Elladan answered.

Legolas patted his friend's thigh as he leaned in and spoke into his ear. "Come, mellonen, I know of a place that is far more pleasant to enjoy our meal."

Elladan swallowed a rapidly growing lump in his throat as he nodded in agreement. He picked up his plate and flagon of clear water and followed the prince from the dining hall into the corridors leading to the residences.

Elrohir noticed his twin's departure and smiled as he turned his attentions back to his dining companion.

"Where are we going, Legolas?" Elladan asked quietly as he followed the prince through the winding hallways.

"You will see," the prince answered coyly.

They paused before a door and the prince pushed it open, inviting the Peredhil inside. Elladan stepped through the doorway and found himself in the prince's private chambers. He felt a nervous flutter in his chest as he looked around the elaborately decorated rooms. He stood in a sitting room, furnished for receiving guests. Through a doorway to his left lay the prince's bedchamber, and he swallowed as he watched Legolas beckon him toward it. He followed, trying to control the nervous tremor he felt in his hands as he crossed the threshold and looked around.

Light spilled into the room from an open doorway on the far side. A large iron bed stood against one wall, invitingly dressed in soft silk and velvet that were in hues of green and silver, a sheer fabric canopy shrouded it. A large armoire stood opposite the bed, and next to it was stored the prince's bow, quiver, and other weaponry. A writing desk and a dressing table lay on each side of a wide doorway that led into an enclosed garden. A smaller doorway near the bed led into a private bathing chamber.

"Come," Legolas called to his friend. "Let us sit in the garden and enjoy our meal."

Elladan followed him through the doorway and out into the private garden. Two divans sat on a carved stone porch. The garden was lush with ferns and small trees, a small pool fed by an underground stream stood in the middle of the garden, and all around the stone walls were covered in moss, and exotic flowering orchids. An opening at the top, much like the one in the main courtyard at the entrance to the caves, provided the light through a leaded glass enclosure that was protected by iron bars.

Legolas took a seat on one divan, and Elladan took his place on the other as they balanced their plates upon their knees and enjoyed their meal.

"This is a peaceful and lovely place, ernilen," Elladan said quietly as he reached for his water.

Legolas smiled and nodded. "Aye, my adar chose this location for my bedchamber. He has one much like it on the other side with his own garden. There are few locations where we have natural light: my chamber, my father's, the stable area, and the main courtyard are the only ones. This garden is a refuge for me after long patrols spent on the borders. Being on guard surrounded by darkness can be draining upon one's spirit."

Legolas looked at his new friend, who seemed so uncomfortable and sitting so very far away. Elladan was an enigma to him, so sullen and serious, yet capable of a smile that could melt even the coldest heart, and eyes that sparkled with mirth when he laughed. Elladan was so different from Elrohir in temperament, though identical in appearance. Elrohir was light-hearted; he laughed and joked often, yet Legolas knew that both brothers could be deadly serious when the occasion called for it. He sensed that Elladan bore the injury of his mother more heavily than did Elrohir. He had also taken note of the fact that neither brother had indulged in the famous courtesans his realm employed, and he found himself wondering why. Few guests turned down an opportunity to be entertained by them, and both male and female courtesans had offered their services to the twins since their stay in the palace began.

"Tell me, Elladan, do you have a mate?"

Elladan blinked and set his water down, swallowing as he found his voice to answer. "Nay, ernilen, I do not. Elrohir is close with Rúmil, but I have yet to meet one I would be that close to." He watched as Legolas nodded and took a bite of cheese. He cleared his throat nervously and continued, "What of you, Legolas? Do you have a mate?"

Legolas smiled and looked up at Elladan. "Nay, like you, I have not met one that I wish to share so much with." He cocked his head and continued, "May I ask a frank question, mellonen?"

Elladan cleared his throat again and answered, "Aye, you may ask me anything you wish to."

"Do you like me, Elladan?"

Elladan took a deep breath as he gazed into Legolas' eyes. He noted the nervous flush to the prince's skin, and the slow working of Legolas' throat as the Sinda awaited his answer. Elladan's voice was barely more than a whisper as he responded, "Aye, I like you very much, ernilen."

Legolas placed his plate upon the floor and rose from his seat, crossing the distance to where Elladan sat. He knelt before his friend, taking the Peredhil's plate away and setting it aside, then placed his hands upon Elladan's thighs. He found he lacked the courage to look Elladan in the eye as he spoke quietly, "You are most beautiful, son of Elrond. In the short time that you have been here, I have found my thoughts turning to you nearly every moment of the day. I want to get to know you, Elladan, I want to…"

Elladan placed his fingers underneath Legolas' chin and turned the prince's gaze to his own. He felt his heart hammering in his chest as he gazed into Legolas' eyes. "I think you and I want the same thing, Legolas," he answered quietly. He allowed Legolas to part his legs and slip between them. The prince's long fingers crept up the curve of his thighs and he brought his own fingers up to comb through Legolas' flaxen locks.

"I would like it very much if you were to kiss me, Elladan," Legolas whispered.

Elladan bent forward and whispered against Legolas' lips, "I would like that as well…"

A small gasp escaped Legolas as Elladan gently claimed his lips. He allowed the Peredhil to explore his mouth as his hands slid up Elladan's thighs and came to rest upon his friend's hips. He curled his tongue against Elladan's and received an answering moan of pleasure from his new friend.

Legolas was no stranger to pleasure. He had taken advantage of the service of both male and female courtesans in his father's employ. However, this was different. This kiss made him weak; this kiss caused his heart to race and his mind to swim. Elladan's full, soft lips were more delicious, more giving than the best of his father's courtesans. The Peredhil kissed him with such depth of feeling, such slow, languorous pleasure that he felt as though he were a fine delicacy to be savored. As Elladan's fingers made their way to the curve of his ear, it took all the self-control he had not to press the Peredhil back to the divan and tear away his dark clothing.

Legolas' deep moans and clutching fingers were setting Elladan on fire. His long slumbering passion re-awoke with such intensity that he could barely contain it. Visions of Legolas spread beneath him, naked and beautiful, flooded his mind. There were so many things he wanted to say and do, but all he could do in that moment was lose himself in the kiss. Before he realized what he was doing, he was pulling Legolas into his arms, pulling the prince down on top of him onto the divan. He held on to the Sinda like one drowning, for that was what he was doing, drowning… awash in the prince's scent, in his taste, in his musical moans that caused his own body to thrum like a finely tuned bow.

Legolas lay on top of Elladan, straddling the Peredhil's slightly larger form, feeling his own arousal straining against his leggings. He pulled back from the kiss, and they both gasped for air. He gazed down into Elladan's eyes, which were now the color of a storm filled sky. He caressed his friend's face and ran his fingers over the Peredhil's ripe lips.

"If you knew what you do to me, Elladan," Legolas whispered.

Elladan smiled as he caressed the curve of Legolas' ear. "I want this, Legolas," he whispered. "But it has been so long. I want you so much, but I do not want to move too fast and lose you. This is important to me. You are important to me. I want to know you, to truly know who you are. Sometimes passion clouds our judgement, blinds us to…"

Legolas pressed his fingers to Elladan's lips as he swallowed and nodded in agreement. He could not deny that he was disappointed; he wanted Elladan in his bed quite badly. However, he knew the Peredhil was right. He and Elladan needed to know one another for their hearts to bond. And that was what he wanted, a mate, not just a lover.

"I understand, mellonen," he whispered. "As badly as I want you, and believe me, it is quite badly, I know of what you speak. I want the same thing as you, Elladan. I want more than to just have you in my bed."

Legolas sat up and stood, rising off Elladan's body and struggling to quell the ache in his loins. He smiled sheepishly as he tugged upon his leggings and Elladan chuckled, adjusting his own as he sat up.

"What are we to do now, Legolas? We are both in quite a state."

Legolas nodded. "It would be most… embarrassing to re-enter the dining hall at the moment. I fear that if I do not… well, you know what it is that I would say… Ai, this is most uncomfortable."

Elladan laughed softly and nodded in agreement. "Aye, uncomfortable is a goodly term. You could always take advantage of your father's courtesans."

Legolas shook his head. "No, I have tarried with them long enough. That is no longer what I want." He looked down at his lap as he shifted again.

Elladan lay back down upon the divan, laying upon his side and folding his arm beneath his head. "You could take care of yourself," he said softly.

Legolas glanced up at him, feeling the heat rise in his loins again. The Peredhil lay draped along the divan, one hand under his head, the other resting on the curve of his hip. Never had Legolas seen such an enticing sight: long legs wrapped in dark suede, dark gray silk covering what surely had to be a delicious torso, thick, dark hair falling around his face and shoulders. As he gazed at Elladan, his hand made its way up the inside of his thigh to cup his arousal and palm it through his leggings.

"You would have me do this here? Now?" Legolas asked with a throaty whisper.

Elladan nodded without uttering a word.

A wolfish grin curved Legolas' lips and he stood, removing his boots and belt. He slowly shed his clothing: first, his doublet and tunic, then his leggings, leaving him in nothing but his loincloth.

Elladan swallowed as he watched the prince undress, each bit of skin that was revealed increasing the ache in his loins. Legolas was an extraordinarily beautiful creature, and it took all his self-control to keep from rising from the divan and consuming him whole. As Legolas' loincloth slid free, Elladan found himself chewing his lower lip. His gray eyes caressed the proud length that stood against the prince's stomach, and he imagined how it would feel sliding into his mouth.

Elladan watched as Legolas lie back upon the divan, his long, archer's fingers caressing his own chest, teasing his nipples to tautness before traveling lower to comb through the pale, golden hair that lay about the base of his arousal. Elladan watched as Legolas took himself in hand, slowly stroking his swollen length as he moaned. The prince's darkening eyes latched on to him, staring at him with an intensity he had never seen before. Elladan's own hand was now caressing the rise in his leggings.

"Am I the only one that needs such treatment?" Legolas purred seductively.

Elladan shook his head and rose from the divan, using all his self-control to not just tear his clothes off and leap upon the prince. He removed his shoes and garments, then took his place back upon the divan, pleasuring himself as he watched Legolas do the same.

His own moans mingled with those of the prince, echoing in the warm garden. He struggled to keep his eyes open, to watch his beloved prince as he neared completion. Legolas' eyes fluttered shut as he arched into his own hand, his soft moans growing more urgent, his arousal weeping ceaselessly. Elladan thought it was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen, and he felt his own climax approaching.

Legolas turned his head, forcing his eyes open to look at Elladan. His friend lay upon his side, his strong hand skillfully working his length as he began to undulate his hips, thrusting forward into his own grip. Legolas' fingers ached to comb through the soft, dark hair that grew upon Elladan's chest. He wanted to follow the dark trail as it meandered down the Peredhil's stomach to pool around his proud, silken length. He had never wanted to touch and taste another so badly in his entire life. He was trying to hold back, waiting for Elladan; he wanted to hear the Peredhil's cries mingled with his own as they both found their release.

"You are beautiful, Elladan," he whispered huskily as he felt his body beginning to tighten.

Elladan's dark gray eyes turned to meet Legolas' and he whispered in reply, "As are you, Legolas. Never have I seen one so perfect."

A plaintive moan escaped Legolas' lips and he whispered, "Come with me, Elladan. Let me hear your cries mingle with my own."

"Yes," Elladan whispered. He increased the tempo of his hand and felt his belly tighten with his release. He rolled to his back as he cried out, his seed spilling over his hand and onto his stomach.

Legolas' release followed hard upon, his own deep growl joining Elladan's cry as his body tightened and his essence spilled upon his hand and stomach.

They each lay still for a moment, basking in the warm afterglow of their spent desire. Legolas rose from the divan and slowly made his way into the bedchamber. Elladan followed him with his eyes until he could no longer see him. He then collapsed back upon the soft cushions and sighed. What had previously been nothing but a guilty indulgence had become one of the most erotic experiences of his life.

He opened his eyes to see Legolas leaning over him. The prince gently cleansed his stomach and groin with a warm, wet cloth. Then Legolas leaned over and kissed him gently upon the lips and whispered, "Get dressed, mellonen. I cannot promise that I will not thoroughly ravish you if you remain so naked and lovely in my sight for one more moment."

Elladan sat up as Legolas returned to his own divan and began dressing again. He pulled on his own clothes, smiling at Legolas as he went about this task. Legolas smiled in return.

"This was a most interesting afternoon, Elladan," the prince said softly. "I have never experienced anything quite like it before."

Elladan laughed quietly and nodded. "Nor have I, mellonen. This is an activity that I would not share with another."

Legolas smiled as he looked up from his boots. "It is our secret, meldir. Only you and I will ever know of it."

Elladan laughed and nodded. "Aye, a shared secret is a good way to start a close friendship."

Legolas rose and extended his hand, and Elladan took it, laughing as the prince pulled him into an embrace. "I hope I do not have to go without holding you too much longer, Elladan," Legolas whispered huskily. "I will be plagued with wicked dreams this night and every night hereafter until I have you in my bed."

Elladan caressed Legolas' face. "Come, ernil vain, let us rejoin the world. Our time will come soon enough."

They left Legolas' chamber hand in hand and made their way toward the barracks.

To be continued…

Mellonen = my friend

Ernilen = my prince

Meldir = friend (male)

Ernil vain = beautiful prince

Summer, 2951, Third Age, Taur-nu-Fuin, Caves of Thranduil

Thranduil leaned against the wall of the stable, waiting for the Elda and wondering if Glorfindel had not become lost again in his halls. He heard newly familiar footsteps softly echoing down the corridor and he looked up to see Glorfindel emerge into the sunlight. He thought to himself that the light in the meadow seemed to glow just a bit brighter when the Elda was around, and his lips curved into a smile as he held up his hand in greeting. Glorfindel strode toward him and held his hand up as well, a warm smile shaping his perfect mouth.

"Are you prepared for our ride, mellonen?" Thranduil asked.

Glorfindel nodded. "Aye, 'tis a wonderful day for it."

"Our horses are ready." Thranduil ushered Glorfindel toward the stable door. "Shall we go?"

The Elda nodded and walked into the stables to retrieve his stallion. As Glorfindel sat upon Asfaloth, he watched Thranduil swing up onto a large gray mare. The horse was strong and sleek with a thick mane and tail and dappled spots of dark gray. She had large, kind eyes, and the Elda saw wisdom in them that harkened to the Mearas.

"You ride a mare this day, my lord?" Glorfindel asked quietly.

Thranduil nodded and answered, "Aye. Bregolas is not so quick to accept other stallions into his company. I thought our ride would be more peaceful if I rode Mithlagor. She knows the terrain and is a wise and gentle steed; she will guide us well. That is, if Asfaloth can match her pace." Thranduil gave a teasing smile to the Elda.

Glorfindel smiled in return. "Asfaloth can match the pace of most any horse, my lord."

Thranduil grinned and answered, "Let us hope so; this mare is the fastest horse I have ever seen. Her speed is not to be underestimated." He gave Mithlagor's flanks a squeeze and the mare nickered and lunged forward with nearly blinding speed. Glorfindel took a handful of Asfaloth's mane and the stallion followed, both horses leaving the stable area in a flash of gray and white.

They galloped down a pathway and underneath a natural stone bridge, then into a wide meadow. Asfaloth surged underneath Glorfindel, catching the mare and drawing along side, though not without substantial effort on the stallion's part. They slowed their cadence to a canter as they tracked to the west in a wide arc, the tall, green grass brushing the elves' ankles as they approached the banks of the Forest River. They then slowed to a walk, following the river upstream until they reached a thicket of tall pine. Mithlagor quickly found the path and they entered the dense wood and slowly began climbing. As Anor reached its zenith, they came to a level place in the hillside, wherein a deep pool of clear water fed by a small waterfall was surrounded by lush ferns and thick stands of pine and cedar. The sheltered area was peaceful and flooded with sunlight. Glorfindel could hear the sounds of the wildlife in the surrounding wood, and watched as bright, white clouds passed over their heads.

"This is beautiful, Thranduil," he said quietly, as he slid from Asfaloth's back, patting the horse on the flank as it went to drink from the pool.

Thranduil slid the pack that contained their supplies from Mithlagor's back and gave the mare an affectionate rub upon the muzzle, then sent her to drink with Asfaloth. "There are yet places in this wood that are unspoiled," he answered. "This is my favorite site. When Legolas was young, I would bring him here often to swim. I have many happy memories of this place."

Thranduil spread a blanket and began unpacking the supplies that Eärwen assembled for them. He retrieved a flask of wine, chunks of cheese, bread, fresh fruits, and some sliced meat. He looked up and saw Glorfindel standing by the water's edge, stretching his long limbs, his face turned skyward. The Elda was bathed in Anor's light, which caused his skin and hair to glow as if lit from within. The king sat contentedly and watched the warrior, a broad smile curving his lips.

"As if this place could be more beautiful…" he murmured as Glorfindel turned to face him.

"Pardon?" the Elda asked with a smile.

Thranduil shook his head. "I was merely talking to myself. Come. Surely you are as hungry as I am after our sparring match this morning."

"Aye," Glorfindel answered with a grin. "That I am." He sat down on the blanket beside the king and plucked a ripe, fresh peach from the selection of fruit before him. Thranduil poured some golden wine into a silver goblet and handed it to Glorfindel. The Elda accepted it gratefully, as he found he was a bit thirsty after their long ride.

"Tell me, Thranduil," he began, as he leaned back and propped himself upon one elbow. "How far are we from the caves? It seems as if we rode for quite sometime."

Thranduil smiled and took a sip of wine before answering. "We are far enough to have some privacy, yet close enough to return quickly if need be."

Glorfindel nodded in understanding and took a drink of his wine. He turned his gaze to the horses and watched as Mithlagor and Asfaloth sniffed one another, the large mare tossing her head gently and Asfaloth nickering in reply.

"Asfaloth has taken a liking to your mare, Thranduil," Glorfindel said quietly.

Thranduil smiled as he watched the two horses. "I can see that. It is good that he is well mannered; Mithlagor does not take to roguish behavior. She taught Bregolas his place rather quickly when he came of age to breed."

Glorfindel turned his gaze to Thranduil. "How long have you had her? Did you breed her yourself?"

Thranduil leaned back upon one elbow and crossed his legs. "No, she found me. I was walking through the wood with Legolas; he was just reaching his majority then. We heard a rustling in the trees, and she stepped out onto the path and walked up to me. She told me she had been separated from her herd, that the Northmen had taken many of her friends. She had out run the fastest of their riders and lost them in my forest. I offered her a home and protection, and she has been with me ever since."

Glorfindel watched the large gray mare grazing alongside his stallion. "Is she Mearas?"

Thranduil smiled. "I believe she may be, for she has wisdom and strength unparalleled. Perhaps, if she were willing, Asfaloth would like to mate with her during your stay? Her strength and speed, and his agility and lightness would make for a lovely foal."

Glorfindel nodded. "Aye, if she is willing to accept him; I think he would be more than willing, look at them now." He pointed toward the meadow where Asfaloth was swishing his tail against Mithlagor's flank as he gently scratched her neck with his teeth.

Thranduil chuckled and answered, "It seems the courtship has begun heedless of our arrangement."

Glorfindel smiled and answered, "Indeed."

The two ate in silence for a short while, enjoying the peace and solitude of the wood. Glorfindel placed his empty goblet upon the ground and looked at Thranduil. The king leaned back upon his elbows, his legs stretched out and ankles crossed. His face was turned skyward, his eyes closed and lips curved into a smile. The Elda studied the Sindar King closely. He found that Thranduil was totally different from what he had expected. The king could be both rigidly formal and warm and friendly. He was proud, but not too proud, stern, yet gentle with his son, and he possessed an inner peace that he had known in few elves. Thranduil did not carry the sense of inner turmoil and regret of the Noldor; nor did he seem haunted by the Sea's call. Even in the midst of battling darkness, Thranduil seemed to be content in his woodland home. His subjects both respected and loved him, it was obvious in the way they carried out their duties and took pride in their work and heritage.

He knew Thranduil possessed what men called magic. Many elves possessed otherworldly powers of perception or foresight to varying degrees. His Lord Elrond and the Lady Galadriel were aided by Rings of Power, which heightened their abilities and removed the veil between this world and the next. Glorfindel, having been born in Aman and having seen the Light of the Two Trees, could pierce that veil as well, though not as far, seeing beyond the world of the living and into the layers in between. However, Thranduil was born in Middle-earth to Sindar kindred. There was some speculation that the king was distantly related to Elu Thingol, but Thranduil dismissed that as rumor when asked. Other than his unusual beauty and extraordinary prowess on the battlefield, Thranduil appeared to be a common elf, and Glorfindel found himself wondering what the extent of the king's magic was.

"Thranduil?" he asked softly.

"Yes, Glorfindel?" the king answered.

"May I ask you about your powers?"

Thranduil opened his eyes and looked at the Elda, who was reclining on his side, propped upon one elbow. He smiled and answered, "Of course, mellonen. What is it that you wish to know?"

"How do you protect your home? How do you hold Shadow at bay?"

Thranduil turned his attention toward the tree line. "As you know, Arda is one large living entity; we are but parts of her whole. As Elves, we are tied to the fate of Eru's creation, we are part of her, as much as my hand is a part of my body." He looked at the Elda and saw him nod in agreement. He then continued, "My magic is but an extension of my awareness of the Wood, and its awareness of me. Life energy ebbs and flows from the Wood to me and back again, much like the blood that circulates in our veins. By living here and communing with it, I have learned how to read it, indeed to project that energy and manipulate it; and through practice, I have learned to see and hear beyond my own borders. I can communicate with the Wood and all its inhabitants through my thoughts, and in turn, the Wood communicates with me. The trees and animals tell me where the yrch and wargs are hiding, where the ungol are nesting, and my warriors can clean out the infestations. When the Shadow comes to close to my borders, I am able to confuse it, to hold it back and turn it away until my warriors can slaughter the beasts that threaten our home. However, that takes a great deal of energy and concentration, therefore, the realm that I can actively shield is relatively small compared to the Wood as a whole. I fear I am not strong enough to purge it totally. The darkness that infects the southern part of the forest is too dense for me to penetrate or influence."

Glorfindel nodded. "I think I understand what you are saying. I too can hear the whisperings of the trees, but I cannot feel the life force itself."

Thranduil smiled. "Ah, but you can, mellonen. You merely need to listen closer. Let me show you what I mean. Lie back and close your eyes, Glorfindel."

Glorfindel did as the king asked.

"Now, place your hands, palms down, upon the ground."

Glorfindel complied.

"Now, take a deep breath and clear your mind."

Thranduil watched the Elda's features, waiting for the sign that would tell him Glorfindel's mind was indeed open. He saw the slight tension that comes from concentration fade from Glorfindel's face. "Now, tell me, what do you hear?"

Glorfindel replied softly, "I hear the wind in the trees, the song of birds… there is a rabbit behind us, some distance away. A herd of deer is watching us from the trees on the other side of the pool. Asfaloth and Mithlagor are grazing near the water…"

Thranduil nodded. "Good, that is your warrior's ear. Now, try to hear past those things, try to listen with your spirit and tell me what you hear then."

Glorfindel took another deep breath. His brow began to furrow, and he began to protest he heard nothing else, when he felt the gentle touch of Thranduil's fingers upon the back of his hand, and suddenly he heard so much more. He gasped and answered, "I hear those back at the caves, I can hear the twins talking to one another… I hear… rocks. Rocks sliding down the hillsides of Dimril Stair… I can hear the Anduin and the Nimrodel… I can hear the Galadhrim singing in Caras Galadhon…" He took a deep breath. "By the Gods…. I can hear the Bruinen…" He began to open his eyes when Thranduil held them closed with his hand.

"Ssshh, Glorfindel. Keep listening, and tell me what you hear."

"I hear something that sounds like… breathing… I feel something… a pulse, softly beating beneath my hands."

"That is the life force of Arda, Glorfindel. Arda breathes as we do, she has a pulse much like our own… If you reach out with your mind, you can connect with her. She has already connected with you. If you listen long enough, and close enough, you can hear Manwë's voice upon the wind, Ulmo's voice in the water, and the song of Yavanna in the tree boughs."

Another soft gasp escaped Glorfindel's lips and his mouth began to curve into a smile. "I can feel you," he whispered. "I can feel your heartbeat…"

Thranduil nodded and smiled. "Now you know how I do it, Glorfindel. For I feel these things always; that connection is ever present within me."

Glorfindel opened his eyes and smiled as he sat up. "How far do you see? Can you see Aman?"

Thranduil shook his head. "No, I cannot see nor feel the Undying Lands. My sight fails in the Sea. Nor can I see past the veil of darkness the Dark Lord has placed around Mordor and Dol Guldur." He took a deep breath and continued, "I cannot see into the future, I do not know what will happen to our kind and this world in years to come." He tilted his head and continued. "But I could see into your heart, should you allow me. However, I would never look there without your permission."

Glorfindel asked, "What is it that you wish to see, Thranduil?"

The Sinda smiled gently and answered, "I would see what haunts your dreams at night. I would lessen the burden you carry, even if it is only for a little while."

"You do not wish to see that, Thranduil," Glorfindel answered with a shake of his head.

"I am no stranger to death and war, Glorfindel," Thranduil answered. "I wish to know you. I wish to understand you; that which haunts you is part of who you are." He sighed and continued, "But if it is part that you do not wish to share, I respect your wish."

"It is not that I do not wish to share, Thranduil. I wish to spare you the pain of seeing it."

"I know pain, Glorfindel," Thranduil answered. "I do not fear it. Pain is part of life, just as joy is."

Glorfindel had never allowed another to see what Thranduil asked to see; not even Elrond had been permitted to see it. The Elda looked into Thranduil's eyes for long moments then nodded. "Very well, but I will not have you see all…"

Thranduil nodded his agreement and took Glorfindel's wrist. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

Images rushed into Thranduil's mind. He saw a great walled city of white stone; within its walls were gates and fountains of gold and silver. Banners furled and snapped in the breeze, and the great Eagles circled from their eyries high in the mountains. The vision filled him with joy and a smile curved his mouth. Soon the vision changed, legions of Orcs poured into the city, Dragons and Balrogs followed close behind. He could smell the smoke and hear the cries of those who fell. The king furrowed his brow and he growled almost silently as he saw a Balrog advance upon those who fled the city. Thranduil saw through the eyes of Glorfindel as his friend confronted the Balrog in the mountains, and a gasp of phantom pain escaped him as the whip came down upon the Elda time and again. He was falling, burning, hacking away at the black beast when Glorfindel wrenched his wrist away and the connection was broken.

When Thranduil opened his eyes, they glistened with tears. "So much pain," he breathed. He reached out and grasped Glorfindel by the shoulders as he shook his head. "I am so sorry, Glorfindel. No one should have to suffer thusly, you should not have to bear this burden…"

Glorfindel found his own eyes stinging with unshed tears as he saw the compassion and pain in Thranduil's eyes. To his surprise, he found himself reaching out for the Sinda and holding him tight. Thranduil held Glorfindel close and stroked his hair as the Elda clung tightly to him.

"Peace, mellonen," Thranduil whispered. "It was long ago, a lifetime ago. Do not carry this burden always." He pressed his lips to Glorfindel's ear and whispered, "Come back from the land of the dead, Glorfindel. Do not dwell with them so long that you forget how to live."

Thranduil lay back slowly, carrying Glorfindel with him until the Elda rested upon his chest. He stroked Glorfindel's hair as he felt the warrior's pain subside. A great, shuddering breath escaped Glorfindel, and Thranduil made the connection again, lulling the Elda to sleep by helping him find the rhythm of life once more.

To be continued…

Mellonen = my friend

Summer, 2951, Third Age, Taur-nu-Fuin

Glorfindel awoke to the soft, steady rhythm of Thranduil's heartbeat. He blinked, clearing his eyes of the last vestiges of reverie, as he wondered what had just happened. He remembered allowing Thranduil access to his memories. He remembered allowing the Sinda to see the fall of Gondolin. And he remembered breaking the connection before Thranduil could feel his death after he fell from the peaks of Crissaegrim. But how had he ended up sleeping in the king's arms? And why did he feel so light? It was as if a burden had been lifted from him. Both his body and his soul felt… free.

The Elda debated on whether or not he should move. If he were to move, then the moment would be broken and they would surely discuss what happened. He was not sure he was ready to talk about it, as he was not sure of his own feelings. He had admitted to himself already that he was attracted to Thranduil from the time of their first meeting. But that attraction had grown into something more profound, and when he dropped his guard and made himself vulnerable to Thranduil, even if only a small bit, he knew he was on the verge of the only thing that frightened him.

Fear was not something he was accustomed to. After his death and rebirth, after the ages of war, pain, and violence, he had found a way to seal his heart. He had become a calculating warrior, an instrument of strength and vengeance; he feared nothing because he felt nothing. But now, his heart and soul had been resurrected and brought back to life along with his body and with that life came fear of losing it again, of taking another fatal fall into the abyss.

**I cannot allow this,** Glorfindel thought. **I cannot allow myself to give my heart to him.** Even as he thought those things, he unconsciously snuggled closer, wanting to hold more of Thranduil, wanting to feel more of the Sinda against him. **How can I perform my duty when I fear for him? How can I do what it is that I was sent here to do if I fear never seeing him again? I cannot fear death, his nor my own, not now…** Glorfindel's thoughts were interrupted by the sound of Thranduil's voice.

"When I was young, my father told me that Elves are reborn into a likeness that is much like their original bodies, or at least as much like them as the soul can remember. He said that neither time nor distance could break the bond of love between souls. He said that our bodies are but vessels for the true essence of who we are. Do you think that is true, Glorfindel?"

"I suppose it is," Glorfindel answered quietly. "I do appear now in much the same form as I did in Gondolin, only stronger and more… foreboding."

Thranduil nodded. "That would make sense. What you went through changed you, I would imagine. How could it not?"

Glorfindel nodded but said nothing. He felt Thranduil's arms hold him just a bit tighter as the king's hands caressed his hair and back.

"Do not fear me, Glorfindel," Thranduil said quietly. "I would rather you hate me than fear me."

"I fear few things in this world, Thranduil," the Elda answered. "But I must admit that what I feel now frightens me."

Thranduil closed his eyes as he focused on the sound of Glorfindel's deep voice, on the feel of the Elda's silken tunic sliding beneath his hand and his soft, soft hair threading through his fingers.

"I will admit, I am frightened as well," Thranduil answered. "But I am more frightened of turning away from what I know will change me for the better." He took a deep breath and continued, "My mate left to sail into the West long ago. She and I were never meant to be; I mistook a deep, abiding friendship for love. She gave me comfort when I lost my father, she helped me learn to be a leader to my people, and she gave me my son. She left when Legolas was old enough to survive without her. I know how difficult it was for her to leave him behind; but she knew he belonged here, and she knew taking him from me would have destroyed me. I gave her many things when she was my wife, but I never really gave her all of my heart. I have yet to give one that which I cling so desperately to. Only Legolas has laid claim to it… But the love a father has for his son is not the love I speak of now."

"How, Thranduil?" Glorfindel asked softly. "How can this have happened so quickly? How can I be on the verge of falling for you?" Glorfindel shifted so that he was propped upon his elbow and he gazed down into Thranduil's sapphire eyes. "We have known one another but a fortnight, and already I find myself wanting… more of you."

Thranduil ran his hands into Glorfindel's hair, cupping the Elda's ears as he drew Glorfindel's face closer. "The heart has its own will, Glorfindel, and I will deny yours nothing," he whispered. He placed two fingers on Glorfindel's lips and continued, "Upon your return to Imladris, you may tell your lord that should he call upon Taur-e-Ndaedelos for aid, I will gladly deliver it if I am able; but the safety of my realm comes first. In exchange, I would request that he provide us with armor and weaponry from his Mírdain, and training in close combat so that we may better be able to serve when the time comes." Glorfindel nodded and Thranduil removed his fingers from the Elda's lips and added, "Now, you have no reason to stay, other than this one…" He drew Glorfindel's mouth to his own and kissed him deeply.

Glorfindel moaned into the kiss as he shifted to lie atop Thranduil. He allowed the king to drink his fill and he curled his tongue around Thranduil's own. An urgent moan escaped Glorfindel as Thranduil drew his tongue into his mouth, and the Elda plundered its depths with a voracious hunger. He spread his legs, straddling the Sinda's waist as he held his upper body off Thranduil by planting his hands on each side of the king's head.

Once before in his life he felt something that approached what he was feeling in that moment, but even it did not compare to the all-consuming, burning desire and raging emotion that he felt conveyed in their kiss. He wanted to drown in the honeyed sweetness that was Thranduil's mouth. He wanted to forget everything: his duty, his oath, indeed himself. He wanted to commit himself to the king as his lover, his confidant, his friend, and his warrior. The feeling of Thranduil's hands caressing and clutching, stroking and kneading was driving him mad with desire. He wanted to both bury himself inside the king and sheathe him within his body. He wanted to hold and be held, love and be loved, by this strong, beautiful elf.

They both gasped for air as Glorfindel released Thranduil's mouth and the Elda whispered, "I am lost to you, Thranduil. I could spend my life in your bed and be content there."

Thranduil smiled and caressed Glorfindel's face. "You are much more than that to me, Glorfindel. As beautiful as I imagine you would be in my bed, you are equally beautiful in everything you do. I could spend the rest of my days watching you. The way you move, the way you furrow your golden brow when you are frustrated, the warm smile that curves your lips as Anor's warmth caresses your flawless skin. The way your wrist moves when you swirl wine in your goblet, the slow working of your throat when you swallow, the way your hair sways about your shoulders, the evil twinkle in your eye when you have a improper thought… all these things are living art, Glorfindel. I wish to spend my days watching you."

A sad look clouded Glorfindel's eyes and he whispered, "That I could stay here for the rest of my days, that this moment would never end…"

Thranduil smiled gently and answered, "But it will, it must. That is the true test of love, Glorfindel, time and distance. We are both strong. Can we not bear separation for a time in order to have what we have in this moment? Would it be better to never have it at all?"

"No," Glorfindel answered. "To never have it at all would be the worst fate."

Thranduil slid his hand to the back of the Elda's neck and pulled him close. "We have some time yet, Glorfindel. Let us not waste what we have dwelling on that which we cannot change."

Glorfindel smiled then reached for Thranduil again with his mouth, losing himself in their kiss. They lay together for long moments: caressing, touching, and whispering to one another. Eventually, they rose from the blanket, resigned to return to the caves before Thranduil's guard came looking for them. Thranduil bundled their supplies as Glorfindel whistled for the horses. Asfaloth and Mithlagor came trotting happily forward, greeting their partners.

Glorfindel and Thranduil mounted their horses, and the Elda moved his stallion closer to Mithlagor, so he could lean across and kiss Thranduil. They shared one lingering kiss before making their way down the path and back into the wood.

* * * *

"What is happening?" Elladan shouted as he followed Legolas down the hallways at a run.

"Yrch and Uruk-hai are advancing toward the Enchanted River," Legolas answered. "The patrols have been able to slow their progress, but there are too many to be stopped. My regiment and two others are moving to intercept them."

Elladan glanced over his shoulder at his brother who was following closely behind. "We will go with you, Legolas," he answered. "You need all the help you can get."

Legolas paused at the entrance to the barracks and nodded. "I thank you, mellonen. But be alert, they could be mounted upon wargs. No horses on this attack, we will meet them on foot, using the trees."

Elladan and Elrohir both nodded then followed Legolas into the armory to collect weaponry.

* * * *

Thranduil paused as they made their way down the hill, his hand held up as a signal to stop. Glorfindel stopped behind him.

"What is it, Thranduil?" He looked around, his warrior's senses searching for signs of trouble.

"We must go now, quickly. Something has happened. Yrch…" Thranduil leaned forward, grabbing a handful of Mithlagor's mane and whispered, "Noro lim, meldis… make haste!"

Mithlagor lunged forward, making her way down the steep path with frightening speed. She leapt over fallen trees and rocks, and they entered the meadow, where she opened into a full run. Asfaloth followed closely behind, sensing there was something wrong and running with all the speed he could muster. Both elves leaned forward, their faces tucked down next to their horses' necks as they covered the ground with blinding speed. They followed the river back to the meadow, passed under the natural bridge, slowing to a canter as they entered the stable yard.

Glorfindel leapt from Asfaloth's back before the stallion had even come to a full stop and followed Thranduil at a run as they made their way back into the caves and toward the barracks.

Thranduil caught Legolas as they prepared to depart the caves. "Where are the patrols, Iôn? How many are going out to meet them?"

Legolas clasped his father's arm. "Patrols have been following them from the southern border, there is a group of Galadhrim closing in from their rear flank. It appears this band assaulted the eastern fences before being turned away. They are now driving northward." He leaned forward and whispered, "There is a band of Uruk-hai among them, it is believed they come from somewhere other than Dol Guldur."

Thranduil frowned as he answered his son. "Do we know this for certain?"

Legolas shook his head. "No, but something strange is happening. Bands of Uruk have been scouring the Vales of the Anduin, near Gladden Fields."

Thranduil's eyes widened as he nodded. "Understood. I will march out with you."

Glorfindel caught his elbow. "My lord, that would not be a prudent measure. Should something happen to you, should you fall in battle, who would protect the caves? You must stay here, hold the barrier around your home. I will go with the prince."

Legolas nodded. "He is right, Adar. Elladan and Elrohir accompany us as well. They are more than skilled in fighting yrch."

Thranduil looked to Glorfindel, and the Elda nodded in agreement. "I trained them myself, my lord. And since the Lady Celebrían sailed West, they have spent nearly all their time killing yrch."

Thranduil had heard stories of the twins' escapades since Celebrían departed Middle-earth. Between them and Glorfindel, he could not ask for better or more skilled company for his son. "Very well. I will await your return." He drew Legolas into an embrace. "Be careful, Greenleaf," he said quietly into Legolas' ear. "Come home to me."

Legolas nodded and smiled as he pulled away, giving his father's hand a lingering squeeze. Glorfindel clasped Thranduil on the shoulder and nodded. The Sinda pulled him close and whispered in his ear, "Watch over my son, Glorfindel. I want both of you to come back to me."

The Elda nodded and answered, "We will return, Thranduil. You have my word."

Glorfindel turned and followed Legolas into the armory. Upon entering, he found Elladan and Elrohir putting on leather breastplates and arm guards.

Elrohir smiled at their captain and offered him his sword. "We thought you might be joining us, seneschal."

Elladan nodded and added, "And we are glad of it. It appears that we may be outnumbered unless the Galadhrim continue their pursuit into the wood."

Glorfindel took up his sword and strapped on his belt and battle gear. "The Galadhrim rarely leave the boundary of Lórien. I do not believe we can count on their assistance."

Elrohir nodded in grim agreement. "Aye, Glorfindel speaks true. I fear we may be on our own."

Elladan sheathed his sword and smiled wryly. "Outnumbered by a score of three to one once again, muindor. 'Tis odds I am growing accustomed to."

Elrohir smiled at his twin. "Just another day slaying yrch. Come, we are ready to depart."

Legolas led his regiment and two more out of the caves and into the woods, as the great iron gates clanged shut behind them. They began their trek west, crossing the bridge and making their way through the forest as quickly as they could.

* * * *

Thranduil sequestered himself in his bedchamber. He quickly kicked off his boots and climbed upon his bed, sitting cross-legged in the middle of it and focusing his thoughts and energies on his beloved wood. He saw the orcs and uruk-hai advancing through the forest, hacking and slashing the trees as they went. To the east, along the foothills of the Dark Mountains, he saw the spider dens that had recently been made. A grim smile crossed his lips as he reached out to his son with his thoughts. **Drive them east, Iôn. Drive them into the dens of the ungol at the southern foot of the mountains, then slaughter them all.** Both the uruk and orcs that advanced upon them and the spiders that infested his forest were created out of the Dark Lord's malice, but the spiders would make a meal of anything that came their way, including orcs and uruk. For once, Thranduil was glad of the spiders' dens; they would provide a convenient solution to this latest assault.

He heard Legolas' answer in his mind, and heard his son direct his troops. He saw them crossing the Enchanted River, watched them take to the trees and form lines to the north and west. He saw his archers poised in the trees, their arrows trained upon the clearing in which the marauders were approaching. He saw Legolas draw his bow, and he saw the twins and Glorfindel draw their swords. His lips curved in a wry grin as he saw a group of some twenty Galadhrim driving the beasts northeast; it seemed his neighbors had finally decided to pay him a visit. The orcs and uruk made their harried way into the trap lain by his warriors. The pursuing Galadhrim never gave them a moment's peace, not allowing them to stop for so much as a breath as they crashed through the trees.

"You will not have my home this day, hû," Thranduil growled low, as he focused his energy on building a dense, impenetrable fog around the border of his realm.

To be continued…

Mellonen = my friend

Muindor = brother by blood

Hû = dog

Summer, 2951, Third Age, Taur-nu-Fuin

Silvan archers perched in trees created an invisible wall to the west and north. On the ground below them, elves stood at the ready, bows, swords, and knives drawn in preparation for battle. Glorfindel stood with his back to a large tree, Elladan and Elrohir stood to his right; Legolas stood to his left, peering around the trunk of a tall cedar. The Elda leaned over, hearing the grunts and growls of the advancing orcs and uruk-hai, and he spied them as they began breaking through the bushes. Legolas held up his hand, preparing to give the order to fire to his captains.

"Wait, ernilen," Glorfindel whispered. "Wait until they are fully inside the clearing."

Legolas nodded in reply. The high-pitched whine of arrows came from the southwest, and Elladan and Elrohir smiled broadly.

"It appears the Galadhrim decided to make a day of it, muindor," Elladan whispered to his twin.

Elrohir nodded. "Aye, I suppose the chase was too tempting to give up."

Glorfindel whispered to Legolas. "The Galadhrim are pursuing them from the south, take care we do not hit them when we fire upon the yrch."

Legolas signaled to his captains, who spied the Galadhrim and sent a signal back confirming their location.

* * * *

Rúmil leapt upon a fallen tree as he released what had to be the fiftieth arrow that day. It found its mark, striking a uruk in the back of the neck, sending the beast stumbling forward as its last foul breath left its body. All told, he, his brothers, and their companions had reduced the enemy's original number by one third. Normally, they did not leave the boundary of the Golden Wood, but the crimes committed by the orcs and uruks were so heinous, that they had vowed to pursue them until there was none left. Haldir took his two brothers, and seventeen of the archers of his patrol and began driving the beasts into Mirkwood. Their plan had been to drive them toward the mountains and hope that spiders would take care of those that escaped them.

Rúmil and his companions were past being exhausted; they had pursued the beasts for six days, with only occasional stops to rest and replenish their energy. He wondered how much further they would go before they encountered their distant kindred. The high pitched whine of arrows answered that question, and he looked up to see green and gold fletched arrows raining down upon the orcs and uruks that were now trapped in the meadow. The beasts growled and shrieked, running in circles, trying to escape the new onslaught. Haldir halted their pursuit, and the Galadhrim took cover behind trees and began firing from the south.

As the elves advanced upon the invaders, the orcs and uruk found an opening to the east and began to flee in that direction. Legolas' patrols kept the fleeing beasts contained in a column as the orcs and uruks made their way toward the mountains. The Galadhrim joined the Wood-elves in their pursuit. Legolas signaled to stop the pursuit as they drew near the spiders' dens. Haldir looked at the young Sinda in confusion, wondering why they were stopping. Orophin tapped his elder brother on the shoulder and pointed up into the trees ahead, and Haldir saw remnants of sticky webbing hanging from the dead trees.

A shrill screeching sound pierced the heavy silence of this dark part of the forest. And Glorfindel watched as some of Legolas' warriors began fitting their bows with arrows wrapped in oil soaked cloth. "You are going to burn them," he whispered.

Legolas nodded. "Aye. To get too close to ungol is to invite death, my lord. They are too fast and too large to confront directly. It takes many arrows to bring one down, and you do not want to battle one with a blade."

"What of the fire, ernilen?" Elladan asked. "These trees are dead, fire will spread quickly. Are you not worried that it will spread to other parts of the forest?"

Legolas smiled knowingly and shook his head as the wind shifted.

The first sounds of retreating orcs greeted their ears, and the twins readied their swords for battle.

Orcish iron rang against Elvish steel as the first of the fleeing orcs collided with the Wood-elves. As elf battled orc, the sounds of the spiders grew louder and closer. Legolas' archers readied their bows and the oil soaked cloth that wrapped the tips of their arrows was lit. The orcs numbers dwindled when the first spider appeared. It was a young female, its sac already full of eggs. Fiery arrows flew through the air, striking their targets as the spiders advanced. The primitive beasts did not have the sense to retreat, and the flaming arrows took them down, one by one. Two spiders broke through the assault. A large female advanced upon the spot in which Legolas, Glorfindel, and Orophin stood, while a smaller, but no less dangerous, male charged the twins, Haldir, and Rúmil.

Orophin was sent flying with the flick of a leg as he and his companions tried to keep some distance between them and the large, angry female. He impacted a tree and slid down its trunk, groaning as he fought to regain his wits. Glorfindel placed himself between the wounded marchwarden and the spider as Legolas scrambled up a tree. The Elda held his sword aloft; his face set in grim determination as he warded off blows from the spider's legs. Its large jaws snapped shut just inches from his face as he thrust his sword up into the beast's underside. A fell war cry echoed in his ears and he watched as Legolas dropped from the tree onto the spider's back and plunged his knives deep into its eyes. The spider screeched and reared onto its rear legs, and Glorfindel took the opportunity to plunge his sword deep into its belly and drag it downward, effectively gutting the monster. Legolas took out two more eyes before dropping to the ground. The spider narrowly missed him as it fell upon its back, its bulk shuddering in death throes.

Elladan removed a leg as Elrohir wrenched his blade from the second beast's mandibles, and Rúmil and Haldir were relentless as they fired arrows into the spider's back. Rúmil cast his bow to the ground and went to his sword as his last arrow lodged in the spider's stinger. Poison shot from the wounded appendage as he hacked off another leg. Elladan leapt onto the spider's head, driving his blade deep into the beast's tough hide. The spider reared onto its back legs and began to topple sideways as Elrohir, having seen his tutor dispatch the female, mimicked Glorfindel and plunged his sword deep into the beast's belly. Elladan could not wrench his blade free and the beast toppled over on top of him, pinning him beneath its weight.

"Elladan!" Elrohir cried, and he began pushing against the dead beast with all his strength.

The sounds of battle had died down, the woods were ablaze and the sky grew dark. Glorfindel and Legolas rushed forward as the rest of the Wood-elves began dispatching the wounded spiders and orcs around them. Glorfindel, Legolas, Haldir and Rúmil pushed with all their might as Elrohir grabbed Elladan under the shoulders and began pulling him from beneath the spider.

Elladan groaned as he was pulled from beneath the weight of the spider's carcass, his left hand held tight to his side. Elrohir immediately began removing the leather armor and checking his twin for injuries. "Are you hurt, muindor?" he said softly.

"Ai, I think I have a broken rib," Elladan groaned.

Haldir called out, "We must leave this place before we are trapped by the fire!"

Legolas slowly shook his head. "We are safe, mellonen. Have no fear."

The marchwarden looked at Legolas in confusion, not understanding what he could possibly mean, when rain began to fall.

Elrohir felt the comforting hand of his lover on his shoulder, and looked up into Rúmil's pale blue eyes. Haldir saw to Orophin, who was fine other than having a very hard knock to the head. Glorfindel and Legolas, upon seeing Elladan was not seriously injured, began securing the area, insuring that there were no more spiders or orcs to cause trouble. A loud crack of thunder split the air, and the rain began to fall heavy at the base of the mountains.

"Rain, in midsummer?" Rúmil asked Legolas as the prince joined them.

Legolas merely smiled, and Glorfindel whispered, "Thranduil…"

As they gathered the wounded, Legolas was relieved to see that he had not lost a warrior in the battle, and only six suffered minor injuries. Elladan and Orophin were the worst injured; both of them would need a few days bed rest before they could travel again. Glorfindel suffered a few cuts and bruises from his skirmish with the female spider, but the rest of the prince's friends were mostly unharmed. The heavy rain put out the fire, and the elves departed the field of battle, wet and weary, and made their way toward the Caves of Thranduil.

* * * *

Thranduil collapsed upon the bed, covering his eyes with his arm. Never had he used so much of himself to protect his home and his warriors. He said a quiet thank you to Manwë and Ulmo for answering his prayer with the storm. He was exhausted, but his plan worked; both the spiders and the orcs were dead, and a great threat to his realm had been put down. That particular den of spiders was most dangerous, there were several males and pregnant females that could have wreaked havoc in his wood.

He drifted into an exhausted reverie, his body sinking into the bed.

* * * *

The corridors were bustling with activity by the time the drenched and weary soldiers arrived. The healers and domestic staff rushed out to assist the arriving elves. As elves rushed back and forth, Elrohir and Rúmil accompanied Elladan to the healer's quarters. Legolas saw that quarters were assigned as Haldir escorted a complaining Orophin to the healer as well.

Glorfindel patted the prince on the shoulder, offering him a smile before making his way down the hallways toward Thranduil's chamber.

The Elda found the king in his bedchamber, lying upon his back, deep in reverie. He stood beside the bed for awhile, watching the Sinda sleep, before leaning down and kissing him lightly on the forehead. He located Thranduil's private bath and stripped his wet and battle-soiled clothing, slipping into the bath and washing the grime of orc and spider from his skin. He lingered in the warm water for awhile before rising and taking one of Thranduil's robes from a peg in the private bath. He wrapped it around him, smelling the king's woodsy and musky scent, then returned to the bedchamber to find Thranduil still asleep. He carefully mounted the bed, snuggling up to Thranduil as he sighed. He soon drifted into reverie himself, too exhausted to fight it off any longer.

* * * *

A soft knock on Elladan's door caused the Peredhil to groggily open his eyes. A broad smile curved his full lips as Legolas entered and closed the door behind him. His prince had bathed and changed into a pale blue robe made of the finest silk. His hair was unbound, falling around his face like a flaxen waterfall.

Legolas smiled at Elladan, making his way to the bed and slipping off his shoes. He lifted the blankets and climbed beneath them, lying on Elladan's uninjured side and snuggling close to his friend.

"I am so sleepy," Elladan mumbled. "The tonic Elrohir gave me has rendered me useless."

"Sshhh… mellonen," Legolas answered softly. "You need to rest and recover. I am exhausted myself. I came here to check on you before going to bed, but I find myself unable to resist the opportunity to lie here with you."

"Will you stay awhile, Legolas?" Elladan mumbled.

"Aye. I will stay all night, pen-velui," Legolas answered sleepily.

They snuggled close and drifted into reverie as Ithil rose in the midnight sky.

* * * *

Elrohir held Rúmil in his arms, stroking his pale hair and enjoying the feel of his warm skin against him.

"Ai, I want so badly to make love to you, but my arms and legs feel like lead," Rúmil murmured against Elrohir's chest.

"Six days running is hard work, melethen. Orophin will not be ready to travel for a few days yet; we have that time to enjoy one another. For now, we should both rest."

"Mmm hmm… " Rúmil murmured as he sighed.

Elrohir could feel his lover melting into his arms, losing the battle with fatigue and falling into a deep sleep. He smiled as his own eyes clouded with reverie. He always slept so well when he held Rúmil.

That night, the Caves of Thranduil were filled with the soft breathing of exhausted warriors, and no room was left empty.

To be continued…

Ernilen = my prince

Muindor = brother (by blood)

Pen-velui = lovely one

Melethen = my love

Summer, 2951, Third Age, Taur-nu-Fuin, Caves of Thranduil

Thranduil awoke to the sweet smell of the Elda's hair and skin. He felt Glorfindel's body pressed close to his own and he smiled. It was early morning; the sun began filtering through the trees, the light finding its way through the glass enclosure to illuminate the western wall of his enclosed garden. He was lying on his side, gazing through the open doors at the brightly colored orchids that grew on the westernmost wall. The perfumed scent of gardenia and jasmine floated into the room, and the soft sound of gurgling water echoed through the chamber.

The Elda lay behind him, his lean warrior's form pressed against Thranduil's own broader one. He could hear Glorfindel's soft breathing in his ear. The Noldo's arm was draped over his side, his hand resting against Thranduil's chest. Thranduil covered Glorfindel's hand with his own, threading their fingers together as he pressed back against him. He heard the warrior murmur his name into his ear, and he turned his head so that he could see Glorfindel's face as the Elda awoke.

He watched the Noldo's azure eyes clear as he returned from reverie, the warm smile that curved the Elda's flawless lips causing his heart to swell in his chest. "So beautiful," he whispered. "Like watching the sun rise."

"You are awake before me," Glorfindel softly answered. "I wanted to watch you wake."

"There will be time enough for that in the days to come," Thranduil answered. "I am so happy to have you back here with me, Glorfindel. Had you not returned, I am not sure of what I would have done."

Glorfindel pulled Thranduil even closer and pressed his lips to the Sinda's ear. "It takes more than yrch and yngyl to bring me to an end," he murmured.

"Mmm… yes," Thranduil answered as he smiled. The Elda's soft breath and silken lips teased the curve of his ear and his eyes fluttered shut. He rolled over and wrapped his arm and leg over the warrior's body, claiming Glorfindel's mouth in a searing kiss. As he tasted of the Noldo, he thought to himself that he could drink from Glorfindel's mouth forever; its warmth and sweetness were utterly addicting. He moaned into the kiss as the Elda rolled his hips forward. Thranduil could feel the warrior's burgeoning arousal press against his stomach through the thin silk of his robe.

"You slept in your clothing, pen vain," Glorfindel whispered huskily as Thranduil released his mouth.

"I do not recall going to sleep, I was so exhausted," Thranduil replied with a throaty whisper.

"Well then, let us remedy this. Your clothing stands in the way of me tasting and touching every part of you," Glorfindel answered. He rolled on top of his Sinda before rising to his knees to divest the king of his clothing. He pulled the thin silk undershirt over Thranduil's head, pressing his mouth to the king's chest, his lips fondling and suckling the rings that pierced Thranduil's nipples. Glorfindel smiled as he heard the breathless whispers that escaped Thranduil's lips. The cool mithril rings felt good against his lips and tongue, and he concentrated on his lover's nipples until they were worked into hard peaks. His hands roamed over Thranduil's chest, his fingers splayed wide as he explored the rolling curves of muscle that made up the Sinda's torso. He had always preferred a warrior's body to that of a softer one, and Thranduil's body was an excellent example of power and beauty combined. The king's flawless alabaster skin covered muscles sculpted from ages of wielding weaponry. He was no soft statesman; he was a warrior king, one who fought beside his soldiers. His nimble fingers untied Thranduil's leggings, and the king lifted his hips as he pulled the soft suede down the Sinda's long legs.

Glorfindel worked his way back up Thranduil's body with his mouth and hands, starting at his feet and continuing up his long, powerful legs. His lips caressed the inside of each of Thranduil's thighs; his ears drinking in the soft moans of pleasure that came from his lover. He pressed his mouth to his king's groin, feeling the heat and rigidity of his arousal through the silk of his loincloth.

Glorfindel rose to his knees, straddling Thranduil's legs as he gazed down at the beautiful body displayed beneath him. "You are beautiful, melethron," he whispered sultrily.

Thranduil gazed up at Glorfindel. The robe was falling from one of the warrior's shoulders and lay open to his stomach. He could see the inside of one long thigh through the slit in the robe, and he reached up, taking one end of the belt in hand and tugging to untie it. The robe fell open, and Glorfindel shrugged it off his shoulders, causing it to fall to the bed. Never had Thranduil seen one so beautiful as Glorfindel. He was lean and strong, with a narrow waist and long legs. His golden hair cascaded over his shoulders and down his back, and his eyes had turned deep indigo. A long, faded scar ran the length of his torso; it started at his lower abdomen and ran in a jagged line to just under his arm. Several more, more faded than this largest one, covered his back, chest, neck and arms. Thranduil saw the vision of the battle with the Balrog in his mind again, coming to him in a flash as he gazed upon the Noldo's body. He reached up, his fingertips caressing the faded map of pain upon Glorfindel's chest.

"What our souls remember…" he whispered.

Glorfindel closed his eyes; he could hear the roar of the Balrog in his mind as Thranduil's fingers caressed his old wounds. "Aye," he answered. "This is what I remembered."

Thranduil sat up, wrapping his arms around Glorfindel's waist and pressing his lips to the warrior's stomach. He pressed his mouth into Glorfindel's flesh; his tongue traced the scar that marred the warrior's otherwise perfect body. He felt the Noldo's hands in his hair and he could smell his sex. His heart both ached and swelled with love for him. Glorfindel was strong yet vulnerable, brave but frightened, and Thranduil was totally and utterly in love with him.

He turned his eyes up to Glorfindel's face. "Let us give you a new memory," he said softly. "Lie down, melethen."

Glorfindel lay down beside Thranduil, and the king positioned himself on his hands and knees over his body. Glorfindel reached up, his hands caressing Thranduil's back and hips, his fingers playing with the silk cords that held the king's loincloth on.

"Take it off, pen vain," Thranduil whispered.

Glorfindel complied, deftly untying the cords and sliding the silken cloth off Thranduil's body. His fingers found the king's proud length, wrapping around it and stroking it gently. He watched Thranduil's eyes flutter closed and his lips part as he sighed. His other hand threaded itself into Thranduil's hair as he pulled the king's mouth to his own.

"You have bewitched me," he murmured against Thranduil's lips.

"Is that what I have done?" Thranduil replied. "Do I hold you against your will? Do I make you love me when you would rather not?"

Glorfindel swallowed. "No, melethen. It was fear that made me say that. I do love you freely, but it frightens me."

"What are you afraid of, Glorfindel?" Thranduil whispered against the warrior's lips.

"I am afraid of being weak, I am afraid of needing you, I am afraid of losing myself," he answered quietly. "I have been alone so long, I am not sure I know how to be any other way."

"I will teach you, Glorfindel," Thranduil answered. "Do not be afraid. I will not let anyone or anything hurt you." He pressed a deep kiss to the warrior's mouth, trying to convey what was in his heart through the kiss. His lips moved to the warrior's ear and he whispered very quietly, "See what is in my heart, Glorfindel. Look into my soul."

Glorfindel gasped as the connection was made between them. He felt the love Thranduil had for him as surely as it came from his own heart. He heard words of love so sweet, so beautiful, so comforting that he felt his own heart would surely burst. He wrapped his arms around his king as a tear fell from his eye. "I love you, Thranduil," he whispered. "I no longer wish to be afraid."

A shuddering sigh escaped him as Thranduil's lips made their way from his ear to his neck. The connection was still there, he felt what Thranduil felt as well as his own feelings. He was awash in unfathomable love and passion, in desire that burned hotter than anything he had ever felt in the past. Everything Thranduil was and felt was laid bare to him. He saw into the Sinda's memories, felt the pain of Oropher's loss, the guilt of his wife leaving, his pure love and pride in his son. He felt the anger and fury that came in the heat of battle, the wicked pleasure that had sufficed for love in the long years of Thranduil's life. He saw Thranduil and Agladir that first night of his arrival; he heard the words the king whispered to his courtesan, and it inflamed him more than he wanted to admit.

As Thranduil's lips suckled his chest, he arched beneath him, his moans becoming more urgent, the insistent throb in his loins becoming impossible to ignore. He rolled his hips up, pressing his length into Thranduil's stomach, growing more desperate for contact. He groaned as he bent his knees and parted his legs; Thranduil's lips brushed through the silken hair that grew around his now rigid and weeping length. He felt as though he would die of ecstasy. Never had one pleasured him so completely or made him so weak. He gripped the iron headboard in his fists and choked back a cry as Thranduil took him into his mouth. Pleading words of love spilled from his lips as his lover swallowed him into the back of his throat. Thranduil's skillful hands rolled and manipulated the taut sac of skin beneath his length and the king's fingers massaged his small entrance.

"Sweet Elbereth…" he whispered hoarsely. Thranduil was relentless, swallowing, teasing, skillfully working his body into a frenzy of desire. Just as he was about to fall over the edge, Thranduil let his length slip from his mouth. Glorfindel groaned in frustration, his knuckles white as he gripped the headboard tighter. His engorged length lay against his hip, twitching and weeping as his lover's mouth moved to torment him further. He cried out as Thranduil lapped at the soft pouch of skin with his tongue, causing it to tighten further. He felt Thranduil's tongue circle and tease his entrance, and he spread his legs wider. "Yes, melethen, oh yes… please, please don't torment me so…" he whispered hoarsely.

Thranduil pushed his tongue inside his body, and Glorfindel groaned as he arched against the bed. It had been years uncounted since he had allowed another to do this, ages since his body had been breached in such a way. His eyes fluttered shut as plaintive moans escaped his lips. His lover's tongue slid in and out of his body before lapping at his entrance in long slow strokes. His heart pounded in his chest and he opened his eyes to see his beloved's face hovering above his own.

"How long, Glorfindel?" Thranduil whispered. "How long has it been?"

"So long," Glorfindel answered. "Too long…"

"I love you, Glorfindel," Thranduil replied. He lowered himself to his lover's body, undulating slowly on top of him as their lengths rubbed against one another. "Tell me what you want, melethen. Tell me what you want me to do…"

"I want you to take me, Thranduil," Glorfindel whispered hoarsely. "Claim me and make me your own. Make me weak, leave me undone…"

Thranduil nodded and rose from the bed, moving to his dressing table. Glorfindel sat up and watched him rifle through a drawer and retrieve a crystal phial, a length of leather, and something he could not quite identify.

Thranduil had seen inside the Noldo's thoughts, as their connection was still strong. He saw what Glorfindel could not say but needed from him nonetheless. It was not what he had planned, and he did not quite understand it, but this was what the warrior wanted and needed, and he would deny Glorfindel nothing.

He had played these games with his many lovers; he was experienced beyond the measure of many his age. However, to do this with Glorfindel, with the one he loved, made him nervous. He had never made love to one that made him feel like Glorfindel did. He had never made love to one he gave his heart to.

When he turned away from the table, he saw the warrior kneeling on the floor, facing the bed. He swallowed the lump in his throat and approached Glorfindel, moving to kneel behind the Elda on the soft rug. Glorfindel's hands were palms down on the bed, his forehead resting on the soft velvet bedding. Thranduil watched the warrior's torso expand and contract as he breathed deeply, and he tried to control the tremor in his own hands. First, he bound Glorfindel's wrists together with the heavy leather strap. He whispered in Glorfindel's ear as he watched the warrior clench and unclench his fists, "Is it too tight, melethen?"

Glorfindel shook his head, his breath coming heavy as he waited. He felt Thranduil's hands running over his back and shoulders. His muscles were tense, quivering with anticipation as he fought the urge to escape. He knew Thranduil would not hurt him, he knew his lover would never take advantage of his vulnerability. Yet, being so vulnerable brought back memories he had long suppressed, and he fought to conceal them from his beloved. He needed to do this if he was ever going to completely trust Thranduil; he needed to prove to himself that it would be all right.

A shuddering sigh escaped Glorfindel as his lover's fingers caressed his weeping and throbbing arousal. He felt something soft slide along his engorged length, and a gasp escaped him as it tightened around the base. His body trembled all over and sweat began to bead upon his skin.

"I will do no more than you want," Thranduil's deep voice drifted into his ear. "You need but tell me to stop and I will, I promise you that."

Glorfindel nodded again as he clenched his eyes closed. He struggled to control his emotions and his body as Thranduil's soft lips caressed his shoulder. He felt his lover nudge his knees apart and he arched his back, pressing his chest against the side of the bed. Warm oil drizzled over his buttocks, and Thranduil spread him wide, allowing the oil to find its way into the cleft. He felt Thranduil's slick fingers massaging him again, gently preparing him for what was to come. A soft groan escaped him as Thranduil's finger entered his body, gently twisting and spreading the oil deep inside. A second was added, spreading him further, opening him for a larger invasion.

Thranduil nuzzled Glorfindel's throat, his lips exploring the juncture between shoulder and neck. The Elda's soft hair caressed his cheek as he prepared him. He crooked his fingers, finding his mark and causing Glorfindel to cry out into the bedding. The Noldo was impossibly tight, and he took his time in preparing his lover. He did not wish to cause Glorfindel pain, as he had a nagging suspicion that the Elda's last experience with this had not been pleasant. When he felt that Glorfindel was ready for him, he removed his fingers and placed the tip of his arousal against his lover's entrance.

"Breathe, melethen," he whispered in a deep, soothing voice.

Glorfindel nodded and took a deep breath, letting it out as he felt Thranduil press inside him. His lover went slowly, not stopping until he was buried to the root. He struggled to breathe normally as Thranduil leaned against him. His lover's lips caressed his ear as he wadded the bedding in his fists. He was filled and stretched beyond what he imagined he could bear. Thranduil remained motionless, waiting for him to relax, waiting for some signal from him to continue. Glorfindel fought the images that flooded his mind: a dark room, cold, hard floor, dark hair spilling over his face, cold eyes that pierced his heart, cruel hands that clutched and took and never gave back. He felt teeth sinking into his shoulder, marking him, heedless of his cries of pain. He pushed these images away, telling himself that it was ages ago, another lifetime ago. He felt Thranduil's soft lips caressing his flesh; he heard the loving words that his Sinda whispered into his ear. **This is different,** he told himself. **He loves me, he does not use me…** Slowly, he began to relax and he arched against his lover, encouraging him to move.

Thranduil felt his beloved's body relax around him and he began to move slowly. He thrust shallowly at first, still caressing his lover, still whispering words of reassurance and love to him. He sensed Glorfindel was holding something back. He knew he could see it if he wished, whether or not the Elda allowed him to. But that was something he had only done once, and only because he had to. To reach in and take another's thoughts without their permission was the worst kind of betrayal.

Soon, Glorfindel was moaning his pleasure and Thranduil was moving steadily within the warrior's tight, velvet heat. Thranduil wasn't sure how long he could continue. Glorfindel felt so good, the Noldo yielded so completely that he felt like he was drowning. His lover urged him on, begging him to thrust harder, faster. He gazed at Glorfindel through lust-glazed eyes; the warrior's skin was covered in a fine sheen of sweat, his long, powerful back arched against him as he rocked forward with each thrust. He pulled out to the tip before pushing back in again, each thrust coming harder, faster than the last. Glorfindel's groans had become more urgent, turning to cries of need. The warrior's body trembled with each punishing thrust and Thranduil gripped his hips tightly in his hands. Thranduil pressed his forehead in between Glorfindel's shoulder blades and drove in as far as he could, burying himself deeply as he spilled his essence inside the warrior's body. He felt his lover's body tighten around him, milking his seed from his twitching length, and a deep growl of pleasure escaped him as he emptied himself inside his beloved. As his length twitched inside Glorfindel, he lapped at the sweat on the warrior's back, hearing him whimper in response. He knew Glorfindel was about to burst; the leather strap around the base of the Elda's arousal had contained his release.

Slowly he slid from Glorfindel's body, gathering the Noldo in his arms and lifting his limp form to the bed. He slid his tongue along Glorfindel's twitching and engorged arousal before taking it into his mouth and to the back of his throat. Glorfindel begged him hoarsely as the Elda tangled his fingers in his hair. Thranduil released the strap, and moments later the Elda spilled himself down his throat as he greedily drank every drop.

Glorfindel trembled beneath him as he licked his lover clean, slowly making his way back up the Elda's body until he hovered over Glorfindel's face. He caressed Glorfindel's face, brushing the damp strands of hair away from his cheeks and caressing the Elda's lips with his own. He untied Glorfindel's wrists and he felt his lover's arms wrap around him and heard the Noldo whisper, "I love you, Thranduil."

"I love you, rawen," Thranduil replied.

He took Glorfindel into his arms and held him as the Elda drifted into a satiated reverie.

To be continued…

Pen vain = beautiful one

Melethron = lover (male)

Melethen = my love

Rawen = my lion

Summer, 2951, Third Age, Taur-nu-Fuin, Caves of Thranduil

Elrohir gingerly extricated himself from Rúmil's arms. He crossed the room to his armoire and pulled a robe out, wrapping himself in it before making his way on tiptoe to the door that joined his room with Elladan's. He quietly opened the door and made his way into his twin's room and a broad smile curved his mouth when he looked at the bed. Elladan was sleeping peacefully, with Legolas draped over his shoulder. The prince's flaxen hair covered his twin's bare chest, mingling with the pale blue of his own robe. He tiptoed to the bed, trying not to wake his twin, and carefully lifted the covers to inspect Elladan's ribs.

The bruising had already disappeared, and he suspected Elladan would be fine in a few days. It was a minor injury, truth be told, and they were both blessed with the quick healing powers that all Elves possessed. He pulled the cover back over Elladan's side when he heard the prince sigh and watched him blink as he returned from reverie.

Legolas began to sit up when Elrohir placed his hand upon the prince's back, encouraging him to stay where he was. "Stay there, mellonen. You are good medicine for my brother."

"Does it look all right?" Legolas whispered.

"Aye, he will be fine. Sleep, ernilen. The two of you have earned this time alone," Elrohir responded with a smile.

Legolas nodded and yawned, lying back down and snuggling closer to Elladan.

"Sleep well…" Elrohir whispered as he tiptoed back out of the room. As he closed the door behind him and turned, he saw Rúmil lying on his side, propped upon one elbow.

"How is he, melethen?" Rúmil asked quietly.

"He is fine, seron vell," Elrohir responded. "He will be able to get out of bed today; I am confident that Legolas will look after him. I am sorry I woke you."

Rúmil smiled and pulled the covers back, patting the bed beside him. "Did you expect I would not notice the loss of your warmth in the bed?" He winked at his lover before continuing, "The prince harbors affection for your brother, yes?"

Elrohir smiled and removed his robe, climbing back into the bed and snuggling against Rúmil. "Aye, Legolas seems to care for my brother a great deal. It lightens my heart to see Elladan open up to another."

Rúmil buried his face in Elrohir's hair and smiled. "They will make a beautiful match. Dark and light, shadow and flame..."

Elrohir turned his face up to Rúmil's and smiled. "Much like us, I imagine…"

Rúmil winked and whispered, "Well… not quite as beautiful a match as us."

Elrohir laughed softly and claimed his beloved's mouth with his own. Rúmil moaned as he slid down into the bed, pulling Elrohir on top of him and wrapping his long legs around him.

"Ai, my luscious Peredhel… you undo me," Rúmil whispered.

Elrohir sucked Rúmil's lower lip between his own, tugging at it with his teeth before releasing it. "My sweet Rúmil, my beautiful, elegant lover… it is you who have undone me."

Rúmil purred contentedly as Elrohir explored the juncture of his neck and shoulder. "I love you, Elrohir," he whispered breathlessly.

"As I love you, my precious gift," Elrohir answered. Elrohir propped himself up on his elbows and gazed down at his lover. "Rúmil, I want to ask you something…"

Rúmil smiled as he caressed Elrohir's face. "Anything, melethen," he answered quietly.

"Would you…" he swallowed a lump that had suddenly formed in his throat. He cleared his throat and began again. "Would you… bond with me?"

A broad smile curved Rúmil's lips. "Are you sure, Elrohir?"

Elrohir's eyes widened as he began to fear Rúmil was about to reject him. "I have never been more sure of anything in my life," he answered. "But if you are not ready, if you do not wish to…"

Rúmil placed his fingers on Elrohir's lips, silencing him. "I am ready, Elrohir. You are the one I wish to give my heart to for the rest of our days."

Elrohir looked away and whispered, "Are you sure?"

Rúmil took Elrohir's face in his hands and nodded. "Yes. Now, stop talking and make love to me, Elrohir."

Elrohir claimed Rúmil's mouth in a deep kiss as his lover tangled his fingers in his hair.

* * * *

Elladan awoke to see Legolas' bright sapphire eyes gazing into his own. A lazy smile curved his lips as he reached up and caressed the prince's face.

Legolas smiled as he greeted his lover. "Good morning, melethen. Sleep well?"

Elladan nodded as he answered, "Aye, perhaps a bit too well. That tonic Elrohir gave me caused me to sleep deeper than I have in years, and having you with me certainly aided the process."

Legolas smiled and leaned forward, pressing a gentle kiss to Elladan's lips before pulling back. "How are you feeling this morning?" he purred.

Elladan's eyes fluttered shut as Legolas' long fingers explored his chest. "Delicious," he murmured in response. "If not a bit sore."

Legolas combed his fingers through the soft hair that grew upon Elladan's chest. "It is so soft," he whispered before brushing his lips through it. "I have never experienced anything like it."

"It comes from the blood of the Edain that runs through my veins."

Legolas began kissing Elladan's chest as he replied softly, "I cannot imagine that any man could taste or feel so good."

"By the Valar, Legolas," Elladan groaned. He tangled his fingers in Legolas' flaxen hair as the prince suckled his chest, stroking his nipples with his tongue before nibbling playfully upon them.

"Let me care for you, Elladan," Legolas purred. "You just lie still and I will do all the work." He pressed his mouth to Elladan's stomach, chasing it as it flinched away.

Elladan moaned as Legolas' tongue explored his navel and he felt his arousal swelling with need. The prince's long fingers caressed and teased his inner thighs, lingering in the juncture between leg and hip before gently caressing the soft pouch that lie beneath his length.

"I… I thought… I thought we were going to wait…" Elladan stammered as he succumbed to the prince's skillful touch.

"I need not wait to be sure of how I feel, Elladan. It became clear to me when that ungol collapsed on top of you. For a brief moment, I feared you were dead and I was filled with remorse and pain. I immediately regretted not knowing you physically, not having shared our bodies as well as our friendship. When I saw you were going to be all right, I vowed not to waste another moment or opportunity."

Elladan's eyes fluttered shut as Legolas' caressed him. "No more waiting," he whispered hoarsely. "I will be afraid no more…"

"Nor will I, melethen," Legolas answered. "Let me show you how I feel."

Elladan fought to remain still as Legolas explored his body. His arousal was already swollen with need; opalescent drops leaking from the tip as the prince leisurely caressed his groin with his mouth. Legolas tormented him with delicious patience, drawing his tongue along the underside of his length, tracing the vein that ran from root to tip. Slowly, the prince took him in his mouth, working him into the back of his throat. A deep moan escaped Elladan as he was swallowed whole by his lover; the prince's soft lips sliding up and down along his engorged arousal. He struggled not to thrust up into the warm and willing heat of Legolas' mouth. The prince was relentless, quickening his motion upon his length, drawing him closer and closer to the edge of the abyss.

Legolas' name left his lips in a strangled cry as he felt his body tighten and his essence spill down the prince's throat. He stroked the back of Legolas' head as the prince licked him clean, his eyes fluttering open as the warm afterglow of his spent passion washed over him. Elladan smiled as Legolas slid up next to him, a warm smile curving the prince's lips.

"How was that, pen velui?" the prince purred.

"Most wonderful," Elladan whispered huskily.

Legolas smiled before claiming Elladan's mouth in a soft and passionate kiss. Elladan cradled the prince's head in his hands as he tasted of him and yielded to him. He could taste himself on Legolas' tongue, his own essence mingled with the unique sweetness of the Sinda's mouth. He felt the prince's arousal press into his hip and he gently pulled away from the kiss.

"What of you, melethron? Who will take care of you?" he whispered.

"I can take care of myself," Legolas murmured against Elladan's ear.

Elladan's hand drifted down the prince's abdomen, finding its way behind the folds of Legolas' robe, his fingers wrapping around the prince's length. "Or, I can take care of you," he purred.

Legolas' eyes fluttered closed as Elladan began skillfully working his length. "Are you sure, meleth?" he whispered breathlessly.

"Yes, I am sure," Elladan responded with a throaty growl.

"Ai, yes…" Legolas moaned as Elladan worked his length. He thrust forward into the Peredhel's grasp as he draped one leg over his lover. "Oh, Elladan…" Legolas whispered, "Sweet Elbereth, you make me weak…"

"So beautiful," Elladan whispered huskily against Legolas' lips. "So very beautiful…"

Legolas began to thrust with abandon into Elladan's sure grip, his plaintive cries echoing in Elladan's ears. He groaned deeply as he buried his face in his lover's neck, clinging to his shoulders as his body tightened and his seed spilled over Elladan's hand and onto his stomach. He held his lover tightly as his breathing returned to normal, nuzzling Elladan's neck as a soft laugh escaped him.

Elladan smiled and chuckled, the prince's warm breath tickled his neck, and he stroked Legolas' flaxen hair, threading it through his fingers. "I feel so much better already," he murmured.

Legolas smiled lazily and reluctantly left Elladan's arms, walking to the washbasin and retrieving a warm, wet cloth. He cleaned the evidence of his spent passion from his lover before shedding his robe and returning to the bed, snuggling into Elladan's arms again.

"I am going to stay here all day with you," he murmured against Elladan's cheek. He pulled back and gazed into the Peredhel's eyes. "That is, if you want me to…"

Elladan cupped his lover's cheek, running his thumb over his soft lips. "I most definitely want you to, melethen," he whispered.

Legolas smiled and curled against him, sighing as he stroked Elladan's chest and closed his eyes.

To be continued…

Ernilen = my prince

Melethen = my love

Seron vell = dear lover

Pen velui = lovely one

Melethron = lover (male)

Meleth = love

Summer, 2951, Third Age, Taur-nu-Fuin, Caves of Thranduil

Thranduil carefully untangled himself from his lover and made his way into his private bath. As much as he wished to remain abed all day with Glorfindel, this day was an important one. It was the celebration of Midsummer, and he and his warriors would also be celebrating their victory over the failed invasion of the Dark Lord's minions.

He bathed quickly, then dressed as quietly as he could before braiding his hair in the customary formal fashion and donning his conventional robes for the day. He tiptoed out of his bedchamber, casting another glance back at his bed to gaze at his beloved Noldo. Glorfindel was wrapped around his pillow, still deeply ensconced in reverie. A smile curved Thranduil's lips as he closed the door quietly behind him and made his way to the council chambers.

* * * *

"No…" Glorfindel murmured, struggling against the pillow and bed coverings. "Stop… no more, I do not want this!"

The Elda quickly sat up in the bed, furiously kicking the covers and hurling the pillow across the room. He scrambled backward toward the headboard as he anxiously looked at his ankles and wrists, seeing they were not manacled as he had dreamt. He rubbed his face and exhaled, murmuring to himself, "A dream, it was just a dream…" He rose from the bed, absently rubbing his wrists as he made his way to Thranduil's bathing chamber. Memories of the experience that he and Thranduil had shared that morning flooded his mind as he poured cool water into the basin. He splashed the cold water onto his face and stood with his head hanging over the basin, his hands resting on each side of the table. Looking into the mirror, he took a deep breath, calming the frantic rhythm of his heart. Flashes of the experience he shared with his lover mingled with fleeting glimpses of his nightmarish past.

"Why could you not have taken those memories from me?" he asked the empty room. "Could you not have purged this from my mind and my heart?" He reached for a warm, soft cloth and dried his face. "Ai, will I never be free of him? Will he, will they, always haunt me thusly?"

The Elda's experience in Mandos' Halls taught him that the lowest levels of the cold fortress were reserved for those who had done grievous deeds in life. He had faced those who had hurt him before he was returned to Middle-earth. He had gazed into the eyes of the one who had betrayed him and his kindred, and gazed into the cold, dead eyes of the most evil elf he had ever known. Interestingly, he found that he felt compassion for Maeglin; he found he wondered what the elf could have been if he had not been so corrupted and twisted by his father's hatred. The torment Maeglin must have endured at the hands of Morgoth had to have been unbearable. But before Maeglin was captured, he had already done grievous deeds. Maeglin would now spend his days recalling those deeds, recalling the pain he had suffered and the pain he had caused. Glorfindel wondered if there was any hope at all for the ill-fated elf. The Elda also wondered how Ecthelion fared, his brave, beautiful friend and lover who was lost to him before they could form a bond.

Thranduil's words returned to him, ** Come back from the land of the dead, Glorfindel. Do not dwell with them so long that you forget how to live.**

Glorfindel had put himself to the test; he had given himself to Thranduil in a way that he had never given himself to any other. Trust was not something that came easily to him, and his submission had been the ultimate expression of that trust. He had overcome his fear, he had submitted, and in return, he had been loved as he had never been loved before. Each touch, each kiss, held within it such pure love and emotion that Glorfindel found himself overwhelmed by the beauty and simplicity of it all. He felt safe in Thranduil's arms, he felt like he could let down his guard and just be. He could be free now; free of the shadow that closed his heart, free of regret and shame, free of anger and malice for those who had hurt him so, if only he could let his past go.

"Let go, Glorfindel," he whispered to himself. "Let it go…"

He sat the cloth down upon the basin and made his way back into Thranduil's bedchamber. The king had his clothes delivered and he found them draped across the foot of the bed. The Elda looked around the empty room, not having heard anyone enter, and shook his head, then gathered his things and dressed for the day. Try as he might, he could not keep his mind from wandering through the strange landscape of his past. He thought on his many mistakes, of those whom he turned away from in fear and self-loathing. Most pointedly, he thought of Erestor. His dear friend who had tried to be what he needed him to be. "Foolish," he murmured. "I am lucky that he is so strong and wise, and forgiving."

He braided his hair at Thranduil's dressing table, his mind still wandering, memories seeming to flood unbidden into his waking moments like strange dreams. What if he had refused Turgon's call? What if he had remained in Valinor like his parents had wanted him to? How different would his life have been? He was so young when he left Valinor, barely forty-six years of age. His parents could have forced him to stay; he was still an elfling in some ways. Yet, he begged and pleaded to go, begged his father to let him keep his role of companion to his beloved mentor. He closed his eyes; memories of his family and his home drifting across his mind like a waking dream.

A smile began to curve Glorfindel's lips when he felt the strong hands of his lover on his shoulders. He opened his eyes and gazed at Thranduil's reflection as the king bent down and rested his chin upon his shoulder. The Elda was back in the present, leaning back against his lover's strong chest, feeling Thranduil's arms hold him with both a possessiveness and a reverence that can only come from love.

"I thought you would sleep all day, melethen," Thranduil purred into his ear.

"I suppose I was more weary than I first thought," Glorfindel replied, tilting his head to give his lover better access to his neck and ear.

"I would liked to have stayed with you, holding you, watching you sleep… but there were too many requirements of me this day."

Glorfindel turned upon the stool and in Thranduil's arms. He reached up and caressed the king's face as he looked into his sapphire eyes. "You really do love me…"

Thranduil smiled broadly and nodded, "Aye, rawen, I do love you. I love you with all that I have to give."

"You do not really know me, Thranduil," Glorfindel answered softly. "There is so much about me that…"

"I know what I need to know to love you, Glorfindel," Thranduil interrupted. "Whatever else there is, you will reveal to me when you are ready. None of us are perfect, Glorfindel. But beauty lies in imperfections, that is what makes us real." He tugged upon the warrior's hand. "Come, I have some time before I must see to the preparations, let us take our midday meal together. My stable master informed me that Mithlagor and Asfaloth were grazing together toward the edge of the meadow; he thinks they may be preparing to mate."

"Preparations?" Glorfindel asked, then he remembered the Midsummer celebration. "Oh yes, the banquet is this evening." Glorfindel nodded and rose from his seat. "Very well, let us see what our mounts are up to." He walked hand in hand with Thranduil from the king's bedchamber, back into the world.

* * * *

Elladan winced as Legolas helped him to his feet.

"Are you all right, meleth?" Legolas asked quietly.

Elladan smiled, then nodded. "Aye, just a bit stiff, that is all."

Legolas proceeded to help his lover don his tunic then he helped Elladan over to the dressing table where the Peredhil sat gingerly upon the stool.

"Are you sure you should be out of bed?" Legolas asked. "Perhaps it is too soon. I do not want you to tax your strength and slow the healing process."

Elladan smiled at his lover. "Legolas, this is not the first time I have been injured, nor is it the worst wound I have suffered. I will be fine, melethen, I swear it." He grimaced as he started to comb through his hair. "I will not have you missing the Midsummer celebration because of me. Besides, I think some fresh air and sunshine will do me some good."

Legolas took the comb from Elladan's hand. "Let me do that for you, Elladan," he said quietly. "The more you move, the longer it will take to recover. And I want you fully recovered soon." He winked at his lover in the mirror as he proceeded to comb and braid Elladan's hair.

Elladan smiled despite being frustrated at his near helpless state. He knew Legolas was right, his ribs and tendons needed to heal, and the more he moved the longer that process would take. He was feeling better, but he was still sore, so he resolved to take things more slowly. The feel of his lover's fingers massaging his scalp and working his hair caused a sigh to escape his lips as he closed his eyes. His full mouth curved into a smile as he felt Legolas' soft lips upon his cheek.

"Finished, melethen," Legolas purred into Elladan's ear.

Elladan opened his eyes and smiled. Legolas had braided his hair in the ceremonial fashion of Imladris. Though how the prince knew what that was, Elladan had no idea. "How…?"

Legolas smiled and slid his arms around Elladan's neck as he spoke softly into his ear. "I saw Glorfindel before he went to see my father the night of your arrival. I remembered what his hair looked like and I tried to mimic it. Did I succeed?"

Elladan smiled and nodded. "Aye, it is perfect, pen vain."

"All we need now is some ribbon and clasps to finish it off. The tailor has made formal robes for you and Elrohir, and I asked him to make some for Rúmil and his brothers as well. I would have our most distinguished guests looking the part this night."

Elladan slowly turned as Legolas helped him to his feet. He took the prince into his arms and held him close, caressing Legolas' ear with his lips. "Hannon le, melethen. I will have the most beautiful companion at the celebration. I only wish I could dance with you…"

Legolas smiled as he snuggled close. "I will be more than content to have you by my side, I need not dance for the night to be perfect. Come, my handmaiden has prepared a picnic for us in the meadow near the stable. Some sunshine and fresh air will do you good."

Elladan nodded as Legolas took him by the elbow and they made their way toward the stable.

* * * *

Orophin pushed Haldir's hand away as he grumbled, "For Elbereth's sake, Haldir, I merely hit my head. I am fine!"

Haldir furrowed his brow and sat back in the chair next to his younger brother's bed. "You are lucky you did not leave its contents on the trunk of the tree, Orophin. You could barely move or speak for hours after you were hurt. Do not make it sound as if you toppled over and bumped your head."

Orophin grumbled under his breath as he smoothed the sheets. "How long do I have to stay abed? I am bored."

Haldir chuckled and shook his head as he crossed his arms over his chest. "You are worse than an elfling, Orophin. It has only been one day, I would think you would be exhausted from the pursuit and battle."

"Am I going to miss the celebration tonight?" Orophin asked.

Haldir raised an eyebrow as he looked as his brother. "How did you know about that? I thought you were out of your wits when we arrived last night."

Orophin shrugged and waived his hand. "I heard others talking about it. It is not as if I slept all that much. They kept waking me and asking me strange questions, as if they expected me to forget who I was or where I was."

Haldir smiled as he answered his brother. "They had to insure that your injuries were not more severe, muindor. You have been trained in healing arts, you know how to treat one who has been injured thusly."

Orophin grumbled again and picked at the threads of his blanket. "I am not accustomed to so much attention," he said quietly. "I do not like feeling as though I were helpless."

"This is your first time being injured in battle, Orophin. Consider it a rite of passage." He took a deep breath and continued, "The healer indicated that you should be able to attend the celebration this evening, if you do not tire yourself."

Orophin smiled and nodded. "I will be on my best behavior."

Haldir shook his head and rose to his feet. "I fear that will be little more than mischievous." He looked about the room. "Let me see if I can take you to your private quarters now. I do think you have harassed the healer's staff quite enough."

Orophin beamed at his elder brother and nodded. "Oh, please do. I grow weary of looking at these plain walls."

Haldir chuckled as he left his brother's bedside and sought out the healer.

* * * *

A knock upon Elrohir's door caused Rúmil to wrap his robe around him as Elrohir moved to answer the door. They had spent the better part of the morning making love to one another and they had risen from the bed just moments earlier. Elrohir opened the door and admitted one of the chambermaids, who carried with her two formal and elegant robes. Both were made of silk and velvet, one was dark blue and silver, the other pale blue and silver. She handed the dark robe to Elrohir, and the lighter colored robe to Rúmil.

"Compliments of his majesty, Prince Legolas," she said quietly. She then bowed her head and left the two surprised elves alone.

Elrohir smiled as he held up the robe. "For the celebration this evening."

"How did they get mine done so quickly?" Rúmil wondered aloud. "It is not as if they expected me, and I only arrived last night."

Elrohir chuckled as he took them both and hung them in the armoire. "Legolas misses nothing. I guarantee your brothers and my brother will have robes as well." He smiled at his lover and reached for his hand. "Come, let me introduce you to some of the palace guard. We can find your brothers and join the others in the dining hall for the midday meal."

Rúmil took Elrohir's hand. "Yes, I would like to see how Orophin fares this morning. I am sure he has driven Haldir nearly out of his wits by now." He chuckled and continued, "He never has been a good patient. I remember when he fell off Lord Celeborn's horse and broke his arm. The only one who could appease him was your grandmother. She would hold him in her lap and tell him stories of Aman. He would rest his head upon her shoulder and fall asleep, a smile upon his small mouth."

Elrohir chuckled and brought Rúmil's hand to his lips. "I love listening to stories about your family, melethen. They make mine sound so very dull."

Rúmil laughed as they made their way out into the hallway. "I fail to see how numerous swollen lips, black eyes, broken bones, and the Valar only know how many detentions and scoldings you and Elladan received from your parents and tutors could possibly be boring. How Arwen managed to grow into such a beautiful and elegant elleth with you two as brothers is beyond me."

A wistful smile curved Elrohir's mouth and he answered quietly, "Thanks be to our naneth. It was under her guidance that Arwen became who she is. It must be so hard for her, being without naneth and being the only female in a family of warriors and statesmen."

Rúmil caressed Elrohir's face. "I would imagine it is no harder for her than for you and your brother, melethen. You will all be together again, in Aman."

Elrohir smiled and nodded. "Aye, I look forward to that day, though I do not feel the call yet. We belong here, with Adar and with Estel. I feel that he will play an important role in years to come."

Rúmil nodded. "Aye, the future King of Men and heir to the throne of Gondor and Arnor. Does he know yet?"

"Adar was going to tell him upon our return. He wanted us there to share in the telling."

"You are close to Estel, of course he would want you and Elladan to share in giving the news."

"I wonder how he will react?" Elrohir asked quietly. "To hear such a thing would be a great shock."

Rúmil nodded. "Aye, to learn who your father was and where you come from. He will carry a great deal of responsibility, the weight of it will be a true test of his strength." He smiled and kissed Elrohir on the cheek. "Come, melethen, let us find my brothers."

Elrohir smiled as Rúmil tugged upon his hand. He led his lover down the winding hallway toward the healer's chambers.

To be continued…

Melethen = my love

Rawen = my lion

Meleth = love

Pen vain = beautiful one

Hannon le = Thank thee

Summer, 2951, Third Age, Taur-nu-Fuin, Caves of Thranduil

Glorfindel settled himself between Thranduil's legs as he sipped cool blackberry tea from a goblet. Thranduil sat leaning against a tree, quietly enjoying his lunch and the feel of his lover's body resting between his thighs. He held up a plump ripe cherry, and smiled as the Elda reached for it with his mouth. Glorfindel was indeed the most beautiful, enchanting, sensual, and complicated creature he had ever known. The Elda was more than an age older than him in total, and was far more experienced in terms of what he had seen and done over his lives. However, in terms of matters of the heart, Glorfindel was still a youth in many ways. He found the warrior's vulnerability to be enthralling.

Thranduil sensed that there was still something haunting the Noldo's heart and spirit, and he believed it was more than the memories of the fall of his beloved city. However, unless Glorfindel was willing to tell him what it was, he would never know the cause of his lover's unrest. The fact that he had grown so close to Glorfindel so quickly was a bit frightening to him; for he knew that the day would come that the Elda would leave his forest and return to his service to Lord Elrond. How long they would be apart was unknown, but Thranduil was quite sure that each day would feel like an eternity to him. Glorfindel's arrival had been like a balm to his lonely heart; the Elda filled a void within him that no other ever had.

He smiled as he listened to Glorfindel talk of mischief that Elladan and Elrohir caused in their youth, and tell humorous tales of goings on in the Last Homely House. The warrior's honeyed voice soothed his spirit. Glorfindel had a sharp wit and raucous sense of humor, and Thranduil was aware of the Elda's reputation of being an exquisite lover. Their first experience had been both surprising and remarkable, and somehow, Thranduil sensed that what Glorfindel gave him was something that the Elda did not give easily or cheaply. He wondered where their love would take them now, and he found it did not matter. As long as Glorfindel was with him, all things seemed possible.

"And so I said, 'Erestor, do you plan on wearing Lord Elrond's loincloth on your head all day or shall I fetch you a bonnet?'"

Glorfindel turned in Thranduil's arms and raised a golden eyebrow as the king nodded and muttered, "um hmm…"

"You are not listening to me, Thranduil. Where is it that your mind has wondered off to?" Glorfindel asked with a smile.

Thranduil smiled and dropped a kiss to the Elda's warm lips. "I am sorry, rawen. I am so comfortable, and your voice is so soothing that I found myself daydreaming. What is this about Erestor and a bonnet?"

Glorfindel shook his head and chuckled. "Never mind, seron vell." He patted his lover's thigh as he settled himself back against Thranduil's chest. "You continue daydreaming; I am content to lie here in your arms."

Thranduil nuzzled the top of Glorfindel's head. "Tell me some more stories, Glorfindel. I love the sound of your voice."

Glorfindel smiled and snuggled back against Thranduil. "Very well… Oh! There was the time that Erestor got his toe stuck in the spigot of his bath… The twins found him when he did not arrive for their history lesson. It took half the household staff to find a solution to the problem, which, if I recall, involved two sticks of butter and some contortionism on Erestor's part…"

Thranduil chuckled and wrapped his arms around his lover, leaning his head down next to Glorfindel's.

"Look, melethen…" Glorfindel whispered. "Asfaloth and Mithlagor are moving off into the woods…"

Thranduil smiled. "It seems they have indeed made a match." His hands drifted across the warrior's chest.

Glorfindel sighed as his eyes fluttered closed and he gently arched against his beloved. "That feels nice…" the Elda whispered.

"I agree…" Thranduil murmured against his lover's ear.

"It would feel better if your hands were inside my tunic," the warrior answered in a deep whisper.

"Glorfindel, you are incorrigible," Thranduil whispered huskily.

Glorfindel turned sideways in his lover's arms and teased the underside of Thranduil's chin with his tongue and lips. "How long until you have to meet with your staff?" he asked quietly.

Thranduil's eyes slid closed and he whispered, "I have some time yet…"

Glorfindel sat up and moved the picnic basket off the blanket, setting the tea alongside it as well. He then pulled the blanket close around them as he opened the clasps on Thranduil's tunic.

"I think we should make love, here, now, in the shade of this tree," the Elda said quietly.

Thranduil looked around to see they were alone. Glorfindel's lips explored his chest as his tunic fell open, trailing warm kisses from his neck to his stomach. He cradled the warrior's head in his hands, savoring the feel of his hair between his fingers. "I love you, Glorfindel," he said softly. He looked down to see the Elda gazing up at him, his lips luscious and swollen and wet.

"I love you, Thranduil," Glorfindel whispered in reply, but Thranduil could see the hesitancy in his eyes.

Thranduil smiled as he caressed the Elda's face. "You are so beautiful that it nearly breaks my heart to look at you, melethen." He watched the warrior's eyes slowly darken, turning a shade of deep indigo. A lazy smile curved Glorfindel's delicious mouth.

Glorfindel gazed at his lover, at his kind eyes that were the color of the summer sky, eyes that deepened to shades of midnight when he was roused by passion. His flaxen hair shimmered in Anor's light, his ivory skin so soft, warm, so alive to the touch. His lips were silky and warm, wet and pink like a rose bud covered in dew. **Gods,** he thought to himself, **I have never seen one so lovely, so perfect to my eyes…**

"When you tell me you love me, I come closer to believing it than I ever have before," the Elda said quietly.

Thranduil ran his thumb over Glorfindel's lips and replied, "I know that this has happened very quickly, Glorfindel. I sense that you do not trust your heart to others easily, nor do I. But when I look at you, when I look deep into your eyes, I see no deceit. I see a strong and noble elf, one that suffers from old wounds, one who is fearless in battle and unwavering in his pursuit of what is right. You are strong and brave, Glorfindel. Yet, you are still afraid; you are afraid to give yourself to me fully. I do not know how to prove to you that I would never, could never hurt you; but I pray that I find a way, and that you give me the chance to do it."

Glorfindel leaned his head against Thranduil's shoulder as he wrapped his arms around the king's waist. "It is true that there are things that I have been through that make me reluctant to open my heart to another. You do not know all that I have experienced in the past. I do not want pity, nor do I want to be handled as if I was a rare and priceless object. I only ask that you give me the time to find away past my fears. I do not believe you would hurt me, Thranduil. But knowing and feeling are not the same. I know this is an irrational fear, and I must find a way to overcome it."

Thranduil pressed a kiss to the warrior's lips then pulled him close and cradled him in his arms. "No matter how many times you give yourself to me physically, you will never find your way past this fear unless you confront it. Desire and love are not the same, Glorfindel. I have no doubt that you desire me, but what I want is for you to love me."

"You deserve better," Glorfindel whispered into his lover's ear. "I am not worthy of…"

Thranduil grasped the warrior by the shoulders and sternly interrupted him. "I do not ever want to hear you utter those words again, Glorfindel, ever. Why do you think you are so unworthy of my love and my trust? There is nothing you could tell me about yourself that would make me feel differently. Please, Glorfindel, I am begging you, trust me, let me love you, see yourself through my eyes."

"I am sorry… I want to love you, but I am afraid I do not know how... I only know how to be a lover." Glorfindel whispered.

"Ssshh… melethen," Thranduil whispered as he held his lover tight. "You will learn… follow your heart, do not be afraid."

Glorfindel leaned into Thranduil's embrace, squeezing his eyes shut against the memories that were always on the periphery of his thoughts. He had once lost one that he cared deeply for because of the things he felt in that moment, those feelings of self-loathing and disgust that threatened to consume him whole. How could he find his way past them when they had been with him for so long? How could he forget how tainted he was, or how weak he had been? Each vain attempt he made to forge a relationship beyond that of friendship with another had failed miserably, and all because of a past that he could not let go of. He had never told another the truth, he had taken it to the grave with him, and it had followed him back. He wondered if he would ever be free of it.

He looked up and saw Legolas and Elladan entering the meadow. The prince walked slowly beside Elladan, a basket on one arm, his other hand supporting Elladan's elbow. **Oh to be so young again…** the warrior mused. **To have my youth back, to never know the things I feel now.**

He could feel his lover's hands stroking his hair, the king's strong arms encircling him, enfolding him, keeping him warm and safe. **Can you protect me from my memories, Thranduil?** he wondered.

Legolas helped Elladan to a place on a sloping hillside, beneath the shade of a tall tree. The prince spread the blanket out and helped his lover to the ground before unpacking their lunch. Legolas looked up and waived to his father and Glorfindel, and Elladan did the same. Thranduil smiled and raised his hand in greeting, only to feel the warrior cling tightly to his waist. He sighed and held Glorfindel tight, unsure what to do with the wounded and vulnerable elf he held in his arms.

* * * *

Haldir moved to embrace Elrohir as Rúmil sat upon the side of Orophin's bed.

"'Tis good to see you again, Elrohir," Haldir said warmly.

Elrohir smiled and nodded as he moved to sit in a chair that Haldir pulled up for him. "'Tis good to see both of you as well." He smiled at Orophin. "You did well for your first adventure beyond the fences, mellon. Not only do you rest in the Halls of Thranduil, but you have become the talk of the caves. Everyone is gossiping about the surly young elf that was brought in last night. The healers had their work cut out for them with you."

Orophin furrowed his brow. "I was not so bad! Can I help it that they woke me nearly every hour throughout the night? I am surly from lack of sleep!"

Elrohir chuckled and rose from his chair, leaning over Orophin. "Alright, my surly friend. You must endure one more examination, as Rúmil has asked me to check on you." He lifted Orophin's eyelids one at a time, looking deep into his eyes for sign of trouble. "Do you have pain in your neck or back?" he asked. Orophin shook his head. He moved the Silvan's head from left to right as he probed his neck for any indication that there was a problem. "Well, you look quite well, Orophin, for one who nearly had the inside of his head spread across a tree trunk."

"I could not shoot orcs and dodge the flying legs of an ungol at the same time!" Orophin protested. "I have never seen anything the likes of that." He shuddered. "It was most unpleasant."

Rúmil laughed quietly as he patted his younger brother on the thigh. "None of us have seen anything like that. We do not have ungol and wargs in the Golden Wood."

Elrohir nodded and sat in his chair. "Nay, even with all that Elladan and I have seen, that was perhaps the most frightening and awe inspiring thing that either of us has ever come across."

Haldir nodded. "We have been spared the horrors that those before us endured. We have lived our lives under a watchful peace. My Lord Celeborn has told terrible tales of the beasts they fought in the last great war."

Elrohir nodded. "Balrogs and teryg… wargs and dragons… Aye, we have been lucky. The worst I have seen was the Battle of Fornost. I watched as the Witch King fled from Glorfindel. Glorfindel nearly had him, and what would have happened then I am afraid to know. Glorfindel was determined to catch him, but his horse began to fail beneath him, the brave beast simply had nothing left to give. Had Glorfindel pushed his horse harder, it would have died, and he could not do that to his loyal friend. So the Witch King escaped, but not before striking fear into the hearts of Elves and Men alike." His voice grew soft as he continued. "But when he returned, walking beside his exhausted horse, it was not fear that Elladan and I saw in his eyes. It was a calm resignation, as if what he had done was as simple as chase down a rogue horse. It was then that we knew that he indeed feared nothing."

Haldir, Orophin and Rúmil sat enraptured by the tale Elrohir told. The Peredhil rarely spoke of his tutor and seneschal like he did now; to many, Glorfindel was an enigma, the illustrious Balrog Slayer of Gondolin.

"What must it be like to face down a beast the likes of the Úlairi or a Balrog? The worst we have faced as been orcs," Rúmil said softly. We in Lórien have never seen war on such a scale, we have lived in relative peace under the protection of Lady Galadriel and Lord Celeborn."

Orophin nodded and swallowed. "After yesterday, I will be happy if I never see another orc or ungol again."

Haldir smiled as he placed his hand upon his brother's arm. "Aye, Orophin, I agree with you on that."

Elrohir shrugged and changed the subject, hoping to lighten the mood. "I saw one of the household staff preparing to deliver some formal robes to you and Haldir for the banquet tonight, they should be here anytime…"

Orophin's expression brightened. "I have heard rumor about the celebrations here. I understand they can be quite exciting."

Haldir shook his head as he laughed quietly. "Perhaps you should get some rest, muindor. I would not like to see you fall asleep upon your plate this evening."

Elrohir nodded. "Aye, your brother is right, Orophin. You need some rest, as do you, Haldir." He rose from his chair and took Rúmil's hand. "We will leave you to nap, mellon. We will return to escort you to the celebration this evening."

"Hannon chen, Elrohir," Orophin answered.

Haldir rose from his chair. "My room is right next to yours, Orophin, through that door. Should you need anything, call me." Orophin nodded and he made for the door that joined his room with his brother's.

Rúmil smiled at his younger brother as he and Elrohir left through the main door to Orophin's bedchamber.

"Come, melethen. All this talk of battle and celebrations has awakened my appetite. Let me show you to the main dining hall," Elrohir said softly.

Rúmil smiled and pulled Elrohir close. "Thank you for your kindness toward my brothers, seron vell."

Elrohir smiled as he wrapped an arm around Rúmil's waist. "We will all be family soon. I feel as though we are family already."

Rúmil bestowed a soft kiss upon his beloved's lips before continuing down the corridor toward the dining hall.

To be continued…

Rawen = my lion

Seron vell = dear lover

Melethen = my love

Mellon = friend

Muindor = brother by blood

Hannon chen = thank you

P>Summer, 2951, Third Age, Taur-nu-Fuin, Caves of Thranduil

Glorfindel stood before the floor length mirror as the seamstress checked the fit of his robe. As before, it fit perfectly, accentuating his physique without showing it off in a vulgar manner. The shimmering fabric flickered and glowed in the light, hues of gold and pale cream accentuating his golden tresses. On the other side of the room, Thranduil's handmaiden was busily putting the finishing touches on his robes as she straightened the clasps and polished his crown. Glorfindel cast a glance over his shoulder, a smile curving the corners of his mouth as he watched the growing impatience that spread over Thranduil's face; his lover did not like being doted on in the least. However, it was part of being a king, presenting ones self in an impressive manner. **Thranduil would be impressive if he entered the hall barefoot in leggings and an undershirt,** the warrior mused.

Thranduil smiled as he caught the warrior gazing at him from across the room. The little surprise he had planned would be there any moment, and he hoped his lover would not be cross with him when it arrived. His handmaiden set his crown upon his head; the soft scent of jasmine and lilac drifting around him from the fresh cut flowers set in the circlet. She bowed low and took her leave, sensing that Thranduil had had enough of the personal attention.

When Thranduil's reflection appeared in the mirror beside his own, Glorfindel turned and felt his heart skip inside his chest. His fingers reached out and lightly brushed the ends of Thranduil's flaxen hair. His lover stood before him, in a robe of lush green and silver, mithril hoops glinted in his earlobes. His sapphire eyes sparkled, his flaxen hair fell around his shoulders and his chest, unbound except for the thin braids that held it back from his face. The robe hugged the curves and plains of his sculpted body, revealing just a hint of the perfection that lie beneath.

"It is an honor to have you at my side at the celebration this evening, Glorfindel," Thranduil said quietly.

The door closed quietly as the seamstress departed, leaving the two lovers alone. Glorfindel leaned forward, closing his eyes and breathing deeply of the soft floral scent that surrounded Thranduil. "I will never smell lilac or jasmine again without thinking of you," he whispered.

Thranduil smiled and closed his eyes as his lover's lips softly caressed his face, first brushing softly over his eyelids, then tracing over his cheekbones toward his jaw, following his jaw line back to his lips. Once there, Glorfindel pressed a soft and gentle kiss to his lips, and he slid his arms around the Elda's waist, drawing Glorfindel closer as he invited the warrior's tongue inside his mouth.

Glorfindel moaned quietly into the kiss, arching into his lover's arms as he languorously explored Thranduil's mouth. He carefully thread his fingers into Thranduil's hair, taking care not to mess the meticulous braids the handmaiden had woven of the flaxen silk that crowned his lover's head. Their mouths separated, but Glorfindel's lips still hovered near Thranduil's, his warm breath fanning over his lover's face. He took a shuddering breath and began in a low whisper, "Thranduil, there is so much I want to say, so much I need to tell you…"

A soft knock upon the king's door interrupted their intimate moment, and a sigh of resignation escaped Glorfindel's lips.

"Come," Thranduil answered before returning his attentions to his lover. "You will have the chance to say anything you like, melethen; but I am afraid it will have to wait until after the celebration."

"I understand," Glorfindel answered quietly. He looked up to see two of Thranduil's musicians enter the king's chamber; one carried a harp, the other a small drum. They sat upon low stools that they had brought themselves and looked up expectedly at their king.

"What is this?" Glorfindel asked as Thranduil began to draw him toward the musicians.

"A large part of tonight's celebration involves dancing, Glorfindel. When we first met, you told me that you did not dance well; so I have taken it upon myself to…"

"Oh, no," Glorfindel tried to pull his hands out of Thranduil's grasp, but the king's grip tightened on them.

"Come now, seron vell, do not tell me that the thought of dancing frightens one so brave and formidable…"

"Thranduil, do not tease me thusly. You do not know what it is that you ask. I am horribly clumsy, I cannot…"

"Nonsense," Thranduil answered. "You are not clumsy. I have observed you for many a day here in my caves, I have watched you spar and ride." He leaned forward and whispered in Glorfindel's ear, "And I have seen how elegantly you move when inspired by passion." He allowed his lips to caress the curve of his lover's ear before he leaned back and continued, "One who has such skill in warcraft cannot be clumsy, Glorfindel." A reassuring smile curved his lips. "I will teach you to dance, and you will dance with me this night." He blinked slowly, gazing deep into Glorfindel's eyes. "Please, melethen, it would mean so much to me…"

Glorfindel swallowed and glanced from Thranduil to the musicians and back to his lover again. "You really wish for me to make such a fool of myself in front of your entire court?"

Thranduil reached up and caressed the warrior's cheek. "I promise you, Glorfindel, you will not make a fool of yourself. I would never ask you to do that."

Glorfindel felt his face flush and he looked at the tips of his shoes. "Very well," he answered quietly. "But if I cannot do it here, promise me you will not ask me to do it in public…"

Thranduil nodded and smiled. "Aye, seron vell, I promise you that." He tugged upon Glorfindel's hand and drew him to a large empty space at the foot of his bed. "We will start very simply," he began. "With rhythm. I know you understand rhythm, it is no different in sparring than it is in dancing." He looked to the elf with the drum and nodded. The elf began to tap out a basic, slow rhythm on the drum. "Imagine we are sparring and the drum marks our thrusts… If I step forward and thrust…" Thranduil took a step forward. "You…"

Glorfindel took a step back. "Step back and block your thrust," the Elda answered.

Thranduil smiled. "Aye. The only difference here is that rather than blocking, you follow. I step forward, you step back, I step back, you step forward… do you see?"

Glorfindel nodded. "Aye."

Thranduil took the warrior's right hand in his left, and placed his left hand upon the Elda's back just beneath his shoulder blade. "Place your left hand on my shoulder," he said quietly. Glorfindel did as he was asked. "Now I will guide you using my hands, but you have to maintain some tension between us so that you will feel my cue."

Glorfindel nodded. Thranduil gently pushed against Glorfindel and took a step forward, the Elda hesitated and the king stepped squarely on his toe. "Ouch…" Glorfindel muttered. "I am sorry, I…"

"You were thinking. Stop thinking, Glorfindel. Close your eyes, feel the pressure I place upon your hand and your back…" he said softly. Glorfindel complied and he tried again. After a few starts and stops, Glorfindel relaxed and Thranduil was guiding him forward and back, and even making a few turns with him. Thranduil guided his lover across the open floor of his bedchamber and nodded to the harpist who began to play a soft melody. Thranduil soon had his lover gliding across the floor, turning and moving back and forth in time to the music. He detected the smile that began to spread across the Elda's lips and he whispered, "Glorfindel…"

"Yes?" the Elda answered without opening his eyes.

"You are dancing, seron vell."

Glorfindel suddenly realized that they were moving in time to the music and he opened his eyes. "I am indeed," he answered with a smile.

"And quite well I might add," Thranduil replied.

Glorfindel smiled at his lover. "You are an excellent teacher, melethen."

Thranduil winked at his lover and answered, "As long as you focus on me and let me guide you, you will dance very well this night." He nodded to the harpist and the drummer who stopped and picked up their instruments, discretely leaving the king's chamber.

"Who taught you to dance?" Glorfindel asked his beloved.

"My naneth," Thranduil answered. "When I was but a small elfling. I used to dance with her at celebrations, before she passed on to Mandos' Halls."

"Did you teach Legolas as well?" Glorfindel asked softly.

"Aye. His naneth and I taught him. Aredhel would balance him on her hip, twirl, and dance across the floor with him. When he grew too large for that, he would stand on the tops of my feet and dance between us." A wistful smile curved the king's lips as he remembered those happy days of Legolas' youth. "After she left, he did not dance for many a year. He started again during his majority celebration."

"Aredhel," Glorfindel whispered, "your mate's name was Aredhel?"

"Aye," Thranduil answered. "Named after the legendary White Lady of Gondolin. I suppose you knew the lady, yes?"

"Aye, I did," Glorfindel answered quietly. His bright eyes clouded as he cast his gaze to the floor.

"It pains you to speak of her," Thranduil said quietly. He reached out for his lover and Glorfindel moved close to Thranduil, wrapping an arm around the king's waist.

The Elda trailed his fingertips down the side of Thranduil's neck as he spoke quietly into his ear, "She was indeed beautiful, and kind beyond the measure of many." He sighed. "'Tis no matter, it was a long time ago." He brought his lips closer to his lover's ear and whispered, "It will be an honor to dance with you this night, melethen."

Thranduil smiled and pulled the Elda close. "You make me very happy, Glorfindel," he said quietly. They left the king's chambers and made for the main hall to join the revelers.

* * * *

Orophin checked his reflection one final time before preparing to go to the celebration with Haldir. He had taken an exploratory walk earlier that afternoon and found that he felt much better after having had lunch and a nap. A knock upon his door caused him to look away from the mirror as his elder brother entered his chamber.

Haldir was dressed much the same as he was, with small differences in the details. Their hair was worn in the same manner. Their robes were the same style, but Haldir's was embroidered with mallorn leaves in fine silver thread upon a field of bluish silver. Orophin's own robe was pure silver with pale bluish silver thread and contained a pattern of entwining vines. He nodded to his brother and smiled as Haldir greeted him.

"Are you ready to depart, muindor?" Haldir asked.

"Aye!" Orophin answered exuberantly. "I am eager to see Rúmil and the twins, and I am looking forward to meeting our hosts."

Haldir chuckled and motioned toward the door. "Well, let us be on our way then. The celebration should be getting underway."

They stepped out into the hallway to find Rúmil and Elrohir approaching. Haldir smiled when he saw the contented and happy smile upon his brother's lips and bowed his head in greeting. Rúmil and Elrohir were a study in opposites, his brother dressed in the pale colors of the Galadhrim and Elrohir dressed in the deep blues of Imladris; one dark, one light, both stunning to behold.

"You are looking quite well, Orophin, " Elrohir said with a smile.

"Aye, I am feeling much better," he answered. "I am looking forward to a goblet of wine and a fine meal. I have never been so weary of lembas…"

Rúmil chuckled and nodded. "Aye, I agree with you on that count, muindor. I hear tell that the meal this evening will have something that appeals to every palate."

"My adar insures that his guests are comfortable and feel at home here."

They turned to see Legolas and Elladan approach.

"We will have foods you will find familiar, as well as some you may not. At any rate, there will be plenty for all to enjoy." Legolas covered his heart with his hand and bowed his head. "Mae govannen, I am Legolas Thranduilion."

Haldir returned the gesture. "I am Haldir of Lórien, Marchwarden of the Galadhrim. These are my brothers, Rúmil and Orophin."

"My pleasure," the prince answered.

"The pleasure is ours, my lord," Rúmil answered.

"Aye, it is an honor," Orophin replied.

"Please," Legolas answered. "Friends of Elladan and Elrohir are friends of mine. Call me Legolas, I have never been fond of formalities." He smiled warmly at his guests and motioned in the direction of the dining hall. "Shall we go?"

Elrohir and Rúmil led the way, followed by Haldir and Orophin. Legolas and Elladan walked slowly behind.

"How are you feeling, Elladan?" Legolas asked softly.

"I am fine, ernilen," Elladan answered. "I am not quite up to dancing, but I think I can manage some conversation."

Legolas smiled and nodded. "Should you need anything, just ask, melethen. I will see that you have all you need."

Elladan winked as he replied, "Of that, I am quite sure, pen velui."

Music and the sounds of revelry greeted their ears as the six companions entered the main hall. There was a long table laden with food and wine, surrounded by high-backed plush chairs. Members of Thranduil's court sat around the table. The chair at the head of the table and seven more close by were vacant, reserved for the king and his most honored guests. Soldiers and citizens of Thranduil's realm danced and caroused, elflings ran back and forth, dancing and playing among their guardians. Some of the soldiers were dressed in their warrior's garb and Elladan asked Legolas why that was.

"Halfway through the evening, we have a change of guard, so that those that watch the borders do not miss the celebration," Legolas answered. "We can never leave our borders unguarded, to do so would invite disaster."

Elladan nodded. His own home was so well secluded in the deep canyon, that it would be impossible for anyone to approach without being seen. They did not have the same need for constant vigilance in Imladris that they did in Mirkwood.

The musicians, upon seeing the prince's arrival, paused in their tune and played the ceremonial anthem that announced the prince. The guests paused in their revelry and turned toward the door, applauding and cheering as Legolas' entered the room with Elladan on his arm. Legolas bowed his head, and in a sweeping gesture directed the revelers' attention to his companions. The crowd cheered the heroes of the battle as Haldir, Orophin, and Rúmil found themselves blushing slightly from the attention.

As they began to take their seats, the musicians resumed their play, and Haldir and Orophin excused themselves to check on their fellow Galadhrim. Rúmil looked to his lover who smiled and told him to accompany his brothers. Elrohir took a seat across from Elladan as Rúmil hurried off to catch up with Haldir and Orophin.

"You are looking well, muindor," Elrohir said as he smiled at the young male filling his goblet with wine.

"I am feeling quite well considering," Elladan answered. "I am still somewhat stiff, but I should be fully recovered in a few days. You are looking quite rested yourself. I detect a slight glow to your countenance, my brother."

Elrohir leaned across the table and answered in a low voice, "I have asked Rúmil to bond with me…" a broad smile curved his full lips as he continued, "and he agreed."

Elladan's eyes widened and Legolas smiled.

"That is wonderful, Elrohir!" Legolas answered. "The love you two share is evident to all those who look upon you."

"Hannon chen, mellon," Elrohir replied. "You two are the first I have told. Of course, I will have to tell Adar and get his permission. Rúmil will seek blessings from Lord Celeborn and Lady Galadriel, then the official courtship and engagement will begin. We should be bonded in a year's time."

Legolas sat back in his chair and crossed his legs as he swirled his wine. "I am very happy for both of you, Elrohir. To have found the one you will spend the rest of your days with must be so fulfilling and wonderful."

Elrohir smiled and nodded, then looked to his twin. "Elladan? Are you all right? You have not said a word."

Elladan swallowed his wine and looked at his twin. "I am happy for you, Elrohir, truly. I suppose I am in shock, somewhat. I knew how you felt about Rúmil, but I had no idea this would happen so fast."

"Nor did I, muindor. But after our experience with the yngyl, I decided that I need not wait any longer to know how I truly felt about him. Given our way of life, I did not want to waste any more time." Elrohir leaned forward and continued quietly, "Are you upset about this, Elladan?"

Elladan shook his head. "Nay, muindor. I am happy for you, I truly am. I know how much you love Rúmil." He placed his goblet upon the table and continued, "You realize that Arwen will take charge when it comes to planning the bonding ceremony."

Elrohir sat back in his chair and chuckled. "Aye, I suppose I will not get a moment's peace."

Elladan looked to Legolas, who discretely chatted with his captain, trying to give the brothers some privacy. He reached across, taking the prince's hand in his own and giving it a squeeze. Legolas turned in his chair and smiled at his lover, squeezing Elladan's hand in return.

To be continued…

Melethen = my love

Seron vell = dear lover

Muindor = brother (by blood)

Ernilen = my prince

Pen-velui = lovely one

Summer, 2951, Third Age, Taur-nu-Fuin, Caves of Thranduil

The revelers stopped and turned to face the door as the musicians announced the king's arrival with fanfare. Thranduil entered the hall, hand in hand with Glorfindel, as his subjects applauded and cheered their leader and one of the great heroes of the battle. Thranduil smiled and bowed his head in greeting to those he passed as he and Glorfindel made their way to the table. They took their seats, Thranduil at the head of the long table, Glorfindel to his left. The revelry resumed, full swing, as the kitchen staff began bringing out trays laden with food and wine. The musicians played on as elflings danced with their parents and each other, young lovers glided across the floor arm and arm, and Mirkwood's guests were treated to how life was celebrated in the Realm of Thranduil.

Dinner guests chatted amiably over plates filled with roast boar, pheasant, steamed vegetables, freshly baked breads, and a myriad of delicacies from Mirkwood's nearest neighbors. Rich, heady wine was served, along with sweet mead and blackberry brandy. Tall glasses of cool, blackberry infused tea and clear water were also poured for the elflings and those who did not wish to partake of stronger drink.

As the guests settled down to eat, the musicians had a change of guard, new ones replacing the old ones so that they may enjoy all that the evening had to offer. Soft music drifted through the hall as minstrels sang of days gone by and fallen heroes of old. Glorfindel paused as he began to set his fork down, a familiar tale floating upon the air entwined with the sad notes of the lute. The minstrel sang a song of the valor of yellow-haired Glorfindel, chief of the House of the Golden Flower, and his fateful fall into the abyss.

Thranduil reached across and placed his hand on his lover's arm. "They but do you honor, meleth," he said softly. "No harm is meant in the singing. You are a hero to them, and they wish to pay tribute to your sacrifice."

Glorfindel nodded and answered, "I understand. It is strange to hear of it this way, to hear his beautiful voice raised in song, singing a lament for one who sits at his sire's table."

Thranduil nodded. "Aye. Had I known they had chosen to play it, I might have asked that they did not. But it is tradition, to honor those who have made sacrifices by raising our voices in song."

Legolas nodded and added, "Aye, Glorfindel. 'Tis songs like this one that helped teach me what it is to be a warrior, to spend one's life in the service of one's king and one's kindred. We learn of honor from those who went before us. It helps to know that we will be in good company if we fall in battle."

"Hannon chen, Legolas," Glorfindel answered. "You do me a great honor by saying this."

Legolas smiled warmly and replied, "It is you who does us honor, by sharing this meal with us and allowing us to become part of your life, no matter how small a part."

Elladan reached under the table and took his lover's hand. Legolas' words to his lifelong teacher touched him deeply. Glorfindel raised his glass, and the guests followed suit, toasting one another and toasting what it meant to be alive.

* * * *

As the evening wore on, sleepy elflings were carried off to their beds one by one and the dancing resumed. The courtesans entered the halls, dressed in opulent gowns and robes and began to circulate among the guests. Orophin sat back in his chair, his stomach full and his blood warm from the brandy he sipped and swirled in his goblet.

"Mae govannen."

A low, soft voice greeted his ears and he turned to see a silver haired beauty draped over the recently vacated chair next to him. The lithe young male reached across the table taking up a goblet and holding it up, as a young female appeared to fill it. He picked a cherry from a platter of fresh fruit in front of him and popped it in his mouth as he smiled at Orophin.

"Mae govannen," Orophin answered, his sharp eyes quickly taking in the form of the young male sitting next to him. "I am Orophin of Lórien, member of the Galadhrim. What might your name be?"

"I am Agladir, and I am in service to his majesty, Thranduil."

Orophin was quickly beginning to discern what sort of service this young beauty performed for his king and the thought intrigued him. He was no innocent; he had taken lovers here and there since his body awakened. However, he had never seen one so enchanting, so beautiful, and so utterly alluring. Rumors of the courtesans of Thranduil's court circulated amongst Elven communities. They had no courtesans in Lórien; he had been told that a few were employed in Imladris, but Thranduil had a fleet of them, males and females of varying ages, and all extraordinarily beautiful.

"It is a pleasure to meet you, Agladir," Orophin answered as he shifted in his chair to face his new companion.

"You are the one they brought in last night on a litter. I hear tell you were injured battling yngyl," Agladir crooned as he displayed himself in a most delicious fashion.

Orophin put on his best bravado and smiled. "'Twas not as bad as many make it out to be. As warriors, we face what comes our way and fight as best we can."

Agladir leaned forward, giving Orophin's bicep a squeeze. "I imagine you fight quite well. You are well built for it."

Orophin muttered over the rim of his goblet as he began to take a drink, "Aye, for that and other things…"

Agladir tossed his head back and laughed. "Oh, you are a charmer," he purred. "Would you care to dance?"

Orophin set his goblet down and nodded. "Aye, I would like that very much." He rose from his chair, taking Agladir's hand and leading him to the dance floor.

The courtesan flashed a disarming smile at his lord as he left the table. Thranduil chuckled in return; shaking his head as a smile curved his lips.

Legolas and Elladan had turned their chairs so that they could watch the guests dancing. Elladan smiled as he saw the wistful gleam in his lover's eye; it appeared Legolas loved to dance more than he let on.

"I am sorry I cannot dance with you, meleth," he said quietly. "I would love to see you glide across the floor."

"I am content to sit here with you, seron vell," Legolas answered. "I have danced many times in my life, and I am sure I will have many more opportunities."

"I hear you are a wonderful dancer," Glorfindel interjected. "Your father told me as much just this evening."

Haldir pushed back his chair and rose to his feet. "Perhaps I may be of assistance. It has been some time since I danced, but I am sure I can manage this night." He rounded the table and held out his hand to Legolas. "May I have the honor of dancing with you, my lord?"

Legolas looked to Elladan and saw his lover smile.

"Yes, melethen," Elladan answered. "I want to see you dance."

Legolas smiled at Elladan then turned to Haldir. "I would be delighted, Captain." He rose from his chair and followed Haldir to the dance floor.

"Lord Glorfindel…"

Glorfindel looked up to see Thranduil's chief advisor hovering over him.

"There is someone I wish for you to meet. He says he once made your acquaintance."

Glorfindel looked to Thranduil, who nodded to him with a smile, and he rose from his seat and followed the advisor to the other side of the room.

Rúmil took Elrohir's hand and whispered in his ear, "Come, melethen, dance with me."

Elrohir smiled and followed his lover to the dance floor.

Thranduil turned so that he could watch his guests dance and he glanced at Elladan who watched Legolas. He rose from his seat and offered the Peredhel his arm. "Come, let us find a place more comfortable to sit. You look tired, mellon."

Elladan nodded and rose gingerly, taking Thranduil's arm with one hand, and his goblet with the other. They skirted the edge of the dance floor to a seating area filled with soft, overstuffed chairs and a few divans. Thranduil helped Elladan into a chair, hearing the Peredhel sigh as he sank down into it, then stretched out on a divan next to him.

They sat quietly for a few moments, enjoying the music and the dancers. Thranduil looked at Elladan thoughtfully and addressed him.

"You are falling in love with my son."

Elladan's head snapped around upon hearing Thranduil's unexpected words. He swallowed and sat his goblet down on the small table next to his chair. He cleared his throat as he formulated an answer.

"Aye, that I am. It would be impossible not to, he is such a kind, honorable, brave, and beautiful elf."

Thranduil nodded. "I can see that he feels the same way about you. Have the two of you given thought to the future?"

"To the future, my lord?"

"Aye, to the future. Your duties and life lay over the mountains in Imladris, my son's duties and life lie here, in Taur-nu-Fuin. The thought of Legolas spending his life waiting for and wanting someone that he cannot hold each day pains me. I do not wish him to live with such loneliness, nor do I want him to spend his idle moments worrying for his lover. Tales of the exploits of the Sons of Elrond have spread far among Elves and Men. Few do not know of the blood lust you have had for yrch. You take many risks in pursuing these yrch, Elladan. You will never kill them all, nor will killing them undo what has been done."

Elladan nodded as his eyes followed his twin dancing with Rúmil. "I do think the day has come in which we will change our ways, my lord. Elrohir has given his heart to Rúmil, my own rests with Legolas; we owe it to those we love to live our lives more wisely. Love has taken hate's place in our hearts now, we no longer feel the need to hunt and pursue yrch."

Thranduil nodded as he took a drink of his wine.

"Have you given thought to the future, my lord?" Elladan asked.

The king turned his gaze toward the Peredhel. "What do you mean by that, Elladan?"

"Well," Elladan answered, "your life and duties lie here, Glorfindel's lie in Imladris. Do you not face the same dilemma that Legolas and I do?"

Thranduil's eyes drifted across the room to where Glorfindel stood. He watched his lover patiently indulge his chief counselor as he was introduced to some of the party guests.

"Yes, I suppose we do. 'Tis a hard thing to love so much. I often wish that my life was simpler, that I could have the freedom to live as I wished. But I do not regret my duty, nor would I ever turn my back upon it."

"That is what makes you such a good leader, my lord. Commitment to one's duty and the strength to see it through is what makes us who we are. Glorfindel has lived his life for his duty, turning away love time and again; I would like to see that change." Elladan took a sip of wine and continued, "It was not easy for my adar when Naneth left for Aman. But he could not leave those who depended upon him behind, so he waits for the day when he may sail to be with her, when he may hold her in his arms again."

Thranduil nodded. "Whatever differences lie between your father and I, I have always respected his wisdom and his commitment to his duty. I can see that you and your brother are much like him, and that comforts me."

Elladan smiled at the king, and Thranduil reached across and patted his forearm. Haldir, Legolas, Elrohir and Rúmil arrived, interrupting their private chat. Legolas settled himself on a plump pillow upon the floor, leaning against Elladan's legs. Elrohir and Rúmil chose a divan across from the king, curling up with one another as they laughed and tried to catch their breath from dancing. Haldir gracefully sank into a plush chair next to Elladan, watching as Orophin and Agladir stood in the middle of the dance floor, cheek to cheek, slowly rocking back and forth while dancers wheeled around them.

"It appears your brother and my courtesan dance to their own tune, Captain," Thranduil said with a low chuckle.

Haldir shook his head and laughed. "Aye, that would appear to be the case. They seem to think they are the only two in the room."

"I would hazard a guess that they are not long for the dance floor," Thranduil mumbled.

The musicians changed the tune as the dancers followed, changing from a raucous fast paced number to a slow and melodic one.

"This would be my cue," Thranduil said as he rose from his chair. "Do pardon me, there is an elf that owes me a dance." He took his leave from his guests and crossed the room toward Glorfindel.

"What is this?" Elrohir asked with amusement. "Glorfindel is going to dance?"

"It cannot be," Elladan answered in surprise. "Glorfindel never dances, never."

Legolas chuckled and leaned his head upon Elladan's knee. "You do not know my father, meleth…"

Haldir smiled as he watched Thranduil approach the Elda, extend his hand, and they all watched as Glorfindel took it, allowing the king to lead him to the dance floor.

"Never in a thousand summers did I ever believe I would see this…" Elrohir murmured.

* * * *

Glorfindel swallowed, hoping his nervousness was not apparent to anyone but Thranduil. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes, surrendering control to Thranduil and allowing the king to guide him across the floor. The steps were small and simple at first, Thranduil allowed the Elda time to find the rhythm and relax enough to be guided. Gradually they began to move across the floor, slowly turning and gliding among the other dancers.

"Open your eyes, pen vain," Thranduil said softly.

Glorfindel opened his eyes, gazing deep into the sapphire pools of his lover's.

"You are dancing beautifully, Glorfindel," Thranduil murmured into the warrior's ear. "Relax and enjoy the experience."

Glorfindel nodded, afraid to speak or do anything that might break the spell he appeared to be under. They twirled and swayed, the hems of their robes lightly brushing the floor as they glided over its polished surface. The amber hue of candlelight glowed upon their skin and hair, and all that observed them found them to be a most beautiful sight. Glorfindel forgot about everything in that moment. There, on that dance floor, beneath the moss covered hills in this massive forest, he was simply an elf in love, not the renowned Balrog Slayer, not the Lord of the House of the Golden Flower, not a noble elf of Imladris. He was merely an elf dancing with his beloved. For that, if for no other reason, he felt he owed Thranduil a debt he could never repay. To find such a sanctuary from the past and the reputation that preceded him everywhere he went was a gift that he cherished above all else.

The song ended and the two lovers parted, bowing to one another before leaving the dance floor. Glorfindel blushed pink to the tips of his ears as Thranduil led him to the seating area and he was greeted by his friends who applauded and smiled with genuine affection. He took a seat on the divan beside Thranduil, sliding one arm around the king's waist as he chatted with his friends.

Haldir turned to find a exceedingly tall and willowy female standing beside his chair. Her bright auburn hair glowed all the more red in the candlelight. Her long, wavy tresses cascaded around her shoulders, falling to her waist. In it were woven fresh flowers of the season, buds of jasmine and orchids mixed with lacey sprigs of fern. Her dress was made of a shimmering copper fabric that accentuated her unusual coloring. She held out her hand in silent invitation, and Haldir rose from his chair, following her to the dance floor.

Thranduil smiled as he watched them depart; it was rare that a guest left his halls without knowing the pleasure of one of his courtesans. Orophin and Agladir had disappeared and Glorfindel smiled upon knowing what was in store for the marchwarden; Orophin's disposition was about to take a turn for the better.

As the evening drew on, it was not uncommon to find young lovers draped across each other, kisses being shared in the shadows, or couples discreetly leaving the party. Thranduil leaned against his lover and he felt Glorfindel's thigh rhythmically rubbing against his own, the Elda leaned his head into him, slowly moving it so that their ears brushed against one another. The king closed his eyes, feeling the undeniable pull in his loins that he always felt when Glorfindel touched him. This dance, this cat and mouse game that they continued to play was maddening. Glorfindel tempted and teased him, promising so much in the way of passion, yet delivering so little in the way of love. Thranduil was lost to him and it was frightening. He began to fear that Glorfindel would never open up and love him with all his heart. He could not settle for just being the Elda's lover, he needed more; he could not live without more.

The Elda continued to subtly tease and tempt him, heedless of who may see, until he could take no more. He rose from his place upon the divan when a lull in the conversation arrived.

"I thank you for sharing in this celebration with me, my friends. Please, enjoy yourselves as long as you wish."

He held out his hand and Glorfindel took it, rising from the divan and following Thranduil from the hall.

To be continued…

Meleth = love

Hannon chen = thank thee

Mae govannen = well met

Seron vell = dear lover

Melethen = my love

Mellon = friend

Pen vain = beautiful one

Summer, 2951, Third Age, Taur-nu-Fuin, Caves of Thranduil

Orophin huffed as he impacted the mattress. Agladir hovered over him, straddling the marchwarden's legs as he slid his own robe from his body. Each time that Orophin reached up to touch him, the courtesan batted the archer's hands away, chuckling as he teased him.

"You must learn some patience, mellonen; you will have your way with me soon enough. For now, I want to unwrap you like the gift you are…"

Orophin gasped then moaned as Agladir's wicked lips teased his ear and his long fingers worked the clasps on his robe. As the silken fabric was peeled away, he groaned. Agladir's hands were everywhere, fingers teasing, pinching, caressing his overheated flesh. It had been awhile since he had taken a lover, and his previous lovers were not nearly so skilled. He smiled as he sighed and arched into Agladir's touch and he felt the courtesan's lips moving from his ear to his chest.

"Mmm… yes… " he whispered as his eyes fluttered closed.

Agladir lapped at Orophin's pebbled nipples, circling them with his tongue before sucking them into his mouth and nipping them with his teeth, causing the archer to gasp and arch into him.

"Sit up, pen vain," Agladir said softly, and Orophin complied, allowing Agladir to pull him up by the forearms and slide his robe from his body.

Orophin lifted his hips, allowing the garment to slide free, leaving him in nothing but his loincloth. He crawled backward onto the bed as Agladir followed, crawling on all fours, the courtesan's lips never leaving Orophin's flesh.

"I wish to touch you…" Orophin whispered huskily.

"Mmm… I imagine you do…" Agladir murmured against the crook of Orophin's neck. "Then do as you wish, mellonen."

Orophin plunged his hands into Agladir's hair, guiding the courtesan's mouth to his own. He plundered its depths, tasting him, savoring the tartness of the wine and the sweetness that was Agladir's own unique flavor. Agladir groaned into the kiss, lowering his body to Orophin and undulating against him.

When he first saw the marchwarden brought into the caves after the battle, he felt a pang of sorrow in his stomach. He never liked seeing warriors return home wounded, and he always felt guilt that they fell protecting him and his kindred. He was well known amongst Thranduil's guard, though not all knew him intimately. When he was not working, he volunteered to help with cleaning weapons and fletching arrows. The warriors of Mirkwood had adopted him in a strange way, enjoying his lilting voice as he sang in the barracks. Agladir was a reminder of what they fought to protect, and his beauty and kindness were welcome among their ranks.

As a courtesan, he was treated as any other member of Thranduil's valued staff; they all did what they did by choice, and could stop at the time of their choosing. Agladir found honor in what he did, in bringing comfort and joy to those he came in contact with, and he was never abused, for those that partook of his talents knew the wrath that would befall them should they hurt him. But with his other clients, he didn't feel as he did now. He wanted Orophin desperately, each moan resonated in his bones, each touch set his flesh on fire; the only other that affected him this way was his lord.

He approached Orophin that night with the hopes that the archer would not reject him. He found Orophin to be charming and funny, not to mention extraordinarily beautiful. Now that he was in the marchwarden's bed, he found him to be a delicious lover as well.

Orophin rolled over him, the archer's larger form pressing his lithe body into the bed. He found a warrior's strength and weight comforting, which is why he often sought them out to warm his bed. The needfulness of his own moans surprised him; he was always enthusiastic about his work, but this was different.

Orophin blazed a fiery path down his chest, sliding his loincloth off his hips as he went. Agladir moaned and sighed as Orophin explored his body, and he groaned as his lover nuzzled his groin.

"Mmm… you smell like honeysuckle," Orophin murmured. "And your skin is as soft as an elfling's bottom."

Agladir laughed softly as he stroked Orophin's silver locks. "You are a smooth tongued rogue, Orophin."

Orophin gazed up at him and grinned. "I may be a rogue, but I am a rogue with excellent taste."

Agladir laughed heartily and smiled from ear to ear. He sighed as Orophin rested his head upon his hip, the archer's strong fingers playing in the hair that was nestled at the base of his arousal. He savored the soft caresses and the warmth that spread out from his core. His arousal lay swollen against his hip, and he mustered his patience as he waited for Orophin to continue his leisurely torment.

"You are passing fair, Agladir," Orophin said softly. "Such flawless skin, such long limbs and large eyes. I could gaze upon you forever and never grow tired of it."

Agladir blinked as he caressed Orophin's hair. His clients rarely spoke to him thusly. He arched beneath Orophin and whispered, "Are you bent on tormenting me further, melethron? Can you not see I am in need of your touch?"

Orophin smiled as he settled himself between Agladir's legs. "I only mean to prolong the moment, I do not want it to end. But I will torment you no longer, pen velui…"

Agladir gasped as Orophin took him into his mouth, rhythmically sliding his lips up and down his swollen length. His moans grew more desperate as his climax grew closer and Orophin increased the pace. He cried out, "Ai, yes!" as Orophin's finger breached his body and he spread his legs, giving his lover freer access. A strangled cry escaped his lips as he spent himself down Orophin's throat and he trembled as the marchwarden licked him clean.

A smile curved his lips as he opened his eyes to see Orophin's smiling face hovering over his own.

"I want to be inside you, Agladir," Orophin murmured against his lips. "Would you allow me?"

Agladir threaded Orophin's hair through his fingers, cradling his face as he whispered, "Yes…"

Orophin pressed a deep kiss to the courtesan's mouth, tasting of him again before moving lower.

Agladir watched as Orophin left the bed, sliding his loincloth off and moving to kneel in the floor next to his pack. He watched the marchwarden rifle through his things before retrieving a small phial of oil and returning to the bed.

"We all carry this to…"

"Lubricate your bowstrings and soothe muscles… yes, I know," Agladir finished for him. "I have spent my entire life around archers, I know your ways well."

"Luckily, it has more than two uses," Orophin winked as he replied.

He coated himself with the oil before covering his fingers in it. He slid two inside Agladir's body, taking care not to injure him. He spread the oil deep inside, crooking his finger until he found the magic spot that caused his lover to cry out and arch into his hand. Gathering Agladir's long legs in his arms, he placed the tip of his arousal at his lover's entrance, then slid inside slowly, pushing past the tight ring of muscle until he was sheathed deep inside him. He moved gently within the courtesan's passage, gradually increasing the pace as he felt his release building. He took hold of Agladir's reawakened arousal, his oiled fingers sliding easily up and down its length. His own deep moans were echoed by needful cries coming from his lithe lover, and he buried his face in Agladir's neck as he growled, spilling himself deep inside the courtesan's body as Agladir spent himself between them.

He collapsed upon Agladir, feeling the courtesan's long arms wrap around him, heedless of the warm seed that spread between them. He suddenly felt content, as if he was where he was supposed to be, nestled in this lovely elf's arms in a soft warm bed. They lay there for long moments, each struggling to catch their breath, and enjoying the warm afterglow of their spent passion. Slowly, Orophin rose from the bed, finding a warm, wet cloth to clean himself and his lover. He tossed the cloth back into the basin and pulled Agladir out of the bed.

Agladir looked at Orophin, smiling sadly as he moved to retrieve his clothes that lay rumpled on the floor. As he gathered them up, he heard Orophin's voice.

"What are you doing? Leave those where they are and come here. The chambermaids will get them in the morning."

He looked up to see Orophin holding the blankets up and patting the bed beside him.

"Come, Agladir. Sleep beside me."

Agladir laughed softly and shook his head. "I thought you were dismissing me…" He climbed into the bed and snuggled into Orophin's embrace.

"No… never…" Orophin answered in a soft whisper. "I like the way you feel in my arms, the way your hair smells, the feel of your soft skin against my own."

"Mmm…" Agladir murmured. "You smell like orange blossoms." His hands roamed the curves of muscle upon Orophin's back. "I like the way you feel too… strong, solid; it is comforting to me."

"Then take comfort and sleep in my arms, pen vain…" Orophin whispered.

They snuggled close to one another and sighed as they drifted into reverie.

* * * *

As they rounded the corner into the private corridor that led to Thranduil's room, Glorfindel was suddenly thrust against the wall, his arms pinned above his head, the king's weight pressed into his back. His eyes fluttered closed, the cool stone was pressed against his cheek, Thranduil's strong body pressed him into the wall.

"You are a merciless tease, Glorfindel," the king growled into his ear. "Just how far were you planning to go there on the divan, in front of our friends, in front of my son?"

"Are you angry with me?" Glorfindel asked in a breathless whisper.

"Was that your intent? To anger me?" Thranduil asked as he rocked his hips into Glorfindel's backside in a rhythmic motion.

"I… don't know… oh Gods… No. No, I was not trying to… oh… Sweet Elbereth, Thranduil, please…"

Thranduil grasped his shoulder and turned him around so that they were facing one another. The king's hands were planted on each side of his head, his eyes a deep midnight blue, his warm breath fanning his lips.

"What is it that drives you, Glorfindel? I can almost see it, there, on the edge of your thoughts… that darkness that confounds me and draws me in until I fear I may drown." He tilted his head, his lips so close to Glorfindel's that they were almost touching. "You will be my demise, Noldo. You take my heart in your hands and consume it whole; you bewitch me and draw me in until I am incapable of escaping you." He reached up and watched the Elda flinch as he placed his hand on his head and caressed his hair.

"I could reach in and take your thoughts; I should peel away those layers of darkness until I see that beast inside you that consumes both you and me even now as I say these things. But I look into your eyes and I lose my will to fight. I can fight for you no more, Glorfindel. You have taken my heart from me, as well as my strength. I love you, and this is most unfortunate, for no matter how I try, I cannot make you love me. If seduction is what you want, then take me, seduce me, use me up and throw me aside. But I will not use you as you want me to, I will not make you subordinate, I will not treat you as a vassal. I will not do to you what those who came before me have done."

Glorfindel watched in shock and fear as Thranduil backed away, tears shimmering in his eyes, his hands clutching the fabric of his own robe. He heard the king murmur as he turned away, "It would be better if you would just kill me."

"No…" he whispered as he watched Thranduil leave him standing in the hallway. He clutched his hair in his hands, feeling tears choke him. "No more of this…" he whispered. "This has to end…"

He followed Thranduil down the hall and entered his chamber.

To be continued…

Mellonen = my friend

Pen vain = beautiful one

Melethron = lover (male)

Pen velui = lovely one

I realize that Tolkien changed his mind after originally writing that Glorfindel escorted Aredhel from Gondolin. I am taking liberties with canon here and going with Tolkien's original idea; purely because it suits my story… may the canon purists forgive me for such a grievous trespass.

"Doubt thou the stars are fire;

Doubt that the sun doth move;

Doubt truth to be a liar;

But never doubt I love."

William Shakespeare, Hamlet, Act ii, Scene2

Summer, 2951, Third Age, Taur-nu-Fuin, Caves of Thranduil

Glorfindel entered Thranduil's chamber to find the king removing his crown. Thranduil turned and looked at him; the pain in his eyes was palpable. The Elda crossed the room to his beloved, sinking to his knees in front of him and clasping Thranduil's robe in his hands.

"I am sorry…" he began in a choked whisper. "I have hurt you and it sickens me. I never should have allowed this to happen. I should have kept my distance, I…"

"Stop this, Glorfindel!" Thranduil shouted as he pulled away. "Each word you speak is like a dagger in my soul! Why are you doing this? Why do you persist in hurting yourself and hurting me? What more do I have to do? What more do you want from me to prove to you that I love you?"

"I believe you…" Glorfindel answered, his voice so small Thranduil almost couldn't hear it.

"Do not tell me that you should not have allowed this! Do not add insult to injury by speaking such cruel words!" he turned and snatched a dagger off his desk and thrust it into the Elda's hands and brought the tip to his chest. "If you wish me dead then do it! But at least do me the honor of allowing me to die a warrior's death, do not leave me to waste away from grief…"

Glorfindel forced his fingers open, dropping the dagger to the floor. He reached out and gathered Thranduil into his arms. "I would die a thousand deaths before I would see you suffer further." He swallowed, gathering the last ounce of strength he had left. "You wish to see what keeps us apart, what keeps me from loving you as I should?" He pulled back and took Thranduil's face in his hands, pressing his forehead to that of the king's. "Then look and see, and if you still love me after, I will be free to love you."

Thranduil gasped as the darkness that clouded Glorfindel's soul fell away. Visions of mounted warriors departing Gondolin flashed in his mind. He saw Glorfindel, clad in the garb of his house, alongside rode two of his knights, and with them was Aredhel, White Lady of Gondolin. He watched as they were turned away at the Girdle of Melian, riding east in search of the Sons of Fëanor. He saw Aredhel charge ahead, plunging into the darkness of Ered Gorgoroth. A battle with spiders, Glorfindel wounded, his companions fleeing, the lady lost. He saw the Elda wander the forests, delirious with fever, finally collapsing upon the ground in the dark wood of Nan Elmoth. Thranduil watched as the Dark Elf came upon the unconscious and sleeping warrior, and the events that unfolded then caused tears to fall from his eyes as he wept.

Eöl took the delirious and weakened Glorfindel; he nursed him back to health, but for a heavy price. The warrior lost his memory as the spider's poison spread through his body, and Eöl took advantage of his weakened state to work dark magic upon him. Through his enchantments, Eöl made the warrior his vassal, taking his pleasure with him when he wished and giving little in return. Eöl often used him roughly then cast him aside, leaving the Elda to feel bereft and lost. He kept Glorfindel hostage, forcing him to wear a dark collar around his neck that contained his dark magic. So confused and lost was the Elda that he could not find the strength to fight back, and so he spent years of darkness at Eöl's disposal.

The White Lady of Gondolin soon found her way into the Dark Elf's clutches, and he used his magic to woo her to his bed and make her his wife. She bore him a son, whom Eöl treated no better than a dog. The Dark Elf's hatred of the Noldor drove him to acts of such neglect and emotional cruelty that Thranduil could hardly believe what he saw. As Maeglin grew into adulthood, he was presented with a gift on his majority day - that gift was Glorfindel. The poor young elf immediately fell in love with the golden warrior, even as his father instructed him in how to best use his new pet. As the years passed, Maeglin found the courage to profess his love to Glorfindel, but Glorfindel was honest, telling Maeglin he could not bid his heart to do other than it would. This enraged and hurt Maeglin, who turned away from the weakening Glorfindel, preferring to spend his time immersed in his hatred of his father.

In a move meant to hurt Eöl, Maeglin brought his mother to see Glorfindel. The White Lady immediately recognized him, and eventually convinced her son to set him free. Seeing that this would indeed anger and hurt his father, who still used his vassal often, Maeglin took Glorfindel to the edge of the forest, placing a spell upon him that caused him to sleep. When Glorfindel awoke, his memory had returned, the collar was missing, and he had no recollection of the past years of his life spent in Nan Elmoth. The warrior made his way on foot toward Gondolin, until he chanced upon a riderless horse. He took the beast and rode swiftly back to the hidden city.

There was much celebration upon Glorfindel's return; many that loved him and counted him friend had feared him dead. Years passed, Glorfindel returned to his life, and the courtship between he and Ecthelion that had begun before he rode away with Aredhel resumed. His good friend turned lover had never forsaken him. Ecthelion had known in his heart that Glorfindel was not dead. He had looked for him long and far, before abandoning his quest at the command of his lord. Once Ecthelion had Glorfindel back, he was determined to make his friend his mate. Yet, something was different about the Golden Lord, he was withdrawn, distant, and Ecthelion found it difficult to reestablish the easy rapport and kindness between them, though Glorfindel proved to be a skilled and submissive lover.

Then everything changed for the worse when Aredhel and her son arrived in Gondolin. Although Glorfindel had no memory of Maeglin or of his father and the time spent in Nan Elmoth, Eöl's arrival in Gondolin had a profound effect on him. Eöl died before he had the chance to reveal his role in Glorfindel's life and humiliate him further. Glorfindel presided over the execution of the Dark Elf after he attempted to slay his own son, and he stood beside his lord at the White Lady's funeral, his eyes never leaving her funeral pyre. Glorfindel became increasingly withdrawn; he avoided contact with Maeglin, though the new Prince of Gondolin seemed to seek him out at every turn.

Several nights before the fall of his beloved city, Glorfindel went to Maeglin's chambers, seeking to sway the prince to good council, to ask Maeglin to join with them in advising Turgon to empty the city under the impending threat of attack. What transpired nearly broke Thranduil's heart as he watched. Maeglin worked upon the confusion and darkness that remained in Glorfindel's soul from his time in Nan Elmoth. He seduced the warrior, taking him upon his hands and knees in the floor of his bedchamber. As he entered Glorfindel's body time and again, he proclaimed his twisted love for the Elda. He chastised Glorfindel for rejecting him years ago, revealing the truth of those lost years to the Elda, and he berated Glorfindel for being so unfaithful to Ecthelion. He threatened to go to the warden of the great gate and reveal Glorfindel's sullied past, how he succumbed to lust and gave himself so freely to him. When he was finished with Glorfindel, he dismissed him, turning his back and walking away, leaving the broken warrior to dress and leave in shame, the full import of Maeglin's words hanging heavy on his soul.

Glorfindel would not permit Ecthelion to make love to him in their final nights together. Ecthelion never knew why. Glorfindel did, however, embrace his lover tightly as the hoard of orcs advanced upon the city; he pressed his lips to Ecthelion's ear, told him he loved him, then departed with the king's daughter and grandson. Ecthelion met his fate with a cloud upon his heart for his beloved Glorfindel, never knowing the truth of what befell his lover; and Maeglin met his own fate at the hands of Tuor.

The visions that came next were dark and frightening. Again, Thranduil saw the fleeing elves, heard the cries and roars of the beasts that attacked the city. He saw through Glorfindel's eyes as the Elda turned to see the gate broken and hear the fell battle cry of his lover.

"Ecthelion!"

Glorfindel felt his lover's life leave his body as if it were his own. However, there was no time to grieve; the stench of smoke and the roar of a Balrog assaulted his senses, and he wheeled to face the great beast. The Balrog towered over him, an enormous monolith of fire and ash and smoke. The blast of heat from the whip caused him to step back as he held his shield and sword aloft. The first blow of the Balrog's sword rendered his shield in half, driving him to his knees with its sheer force. The second blow ripped a scream of pain from his lungs as it split his armor and scorched his flesh. He drove his blade into the beast's arm, cleaving it from its body and sending the burning limb tumbling into the abyss. Another crack of the whip caused him to take a step backward, and he lost his balance, scrambling for a hold upon the rock face. He growled in pain as the Balrog grabbed a handful of his hair and he lurched forward, heedless of the flame that began to consume him. He drove his blade deep into the chest of the monster and it tumbled backward, dragging Glorfindel from the cliff with it. As they fell, Glorfindel heard the cries of the Eagles and saw the refugees reach safety. In the brief seconds before his death, he knew with certainty that he had done what it was he was supposed to do, that the lineage of his lifelong friend and king would live on…

* * * *

Glorfindel struggled to break free of Thranduil's grasp, desperate to break the bond before his lover saw his death. He called to him, but Thranduil was too deep within his memories. A ragged gasp escaped his beloved and Glorfindel felt him go limp within his grasp.

He caught Thranduil before he hit the floor and dragged him to the bed, calling his name, trying to rouse him.

"Please… Thranduil… wake, melethen. Why did you not let go?" he cried. He shook the king violently as he continued to plead with him. "Thranduil, please… wake!" Just as he rose from the bed to fetch the healer, he heard a soft groan come from his lover. He raced back to the bed and knelt over him, caressing his face and showering him with kisses.

"Thranduil? Melethen? Can you hear me?"

Thranduil blinked as he opened his eyes, his face wet with tears, his eyes swollen from weeping.

"Glorfindel?"

Glorfindel smiled through his tears. "Aye, seron vell, it is me."

Thranduil reached up and pulled Glorfindel down to him, holding him tightly. "Oh, rawen… so much pain…"

Glorfindel wept as he lay in Thranduil's arms. "I am sorry," he answered in a choked whisper.

"No," Thranduil answered. "Never be sorry for who you are. You are not to blame, this is not your fault."

"I was weak…" Glorfindel began.

"No! You were not weak then, and you are not weak now. Oh, my brave warrior, you have no idea what you have done…" He stroked Glorfindel's hair. "I love you, Glorfindel, with all my heart, with every part of my soul. Never, never doubt that."

"No… I will never doubt it." Glorfindel drew a ragged breath and continued softly, "I am free now… free to love you as you deserve."

He rose on his elbow, caressing Thranduil's face and wiping away the tears that remained. "You have saved me, Thranduil Oropherion; you have set my soul free…"

Thranduil caressed Glorfindel's face. "We have saved each other, for before you came, I feared my heart was long dead."

"I love you, Thranduil," Glorfindel whispered against Thranduil's lips.

"As I love you, my Glorfindel," Thranduil answered, and for the first time, he truly felt it.

Glorfindel pressed a deep kiss to his lover's lips, drinking deeply from his honeyed mouth. His fingers deftly worked the clasps on Thranduil's robe, revealing his strong chest. A startled gasp escaped Glorfindel as he found a scar identical to his own running the length of Thranduil's torso.

"How…?"

"Your memories are my memories now, melethen. We are joined in mind and spirit, until the ending of the world."

Glorfindel shook his head and whispered, "I did not mean for you to keep them. I do not wish for you to carry this burden."

"Then let neither of us carry it; let us leave it in the past where it belongs," Thranduil answered softly. "Make love to me, Glorfindel. Let us begin to make new memories together."

Glorfindel smiled and pulled his lover up into a sitting position, sliding Thranduil's robe from his body as the king worked the clasps on his own. They cast their robes aside, and Glorfindel gazed down at his lover who was spread across the coverlet. Thranduil was a study in perfection. His ivory skin glowed against the field of dark green velvet; rolling hills of iron muscle covered in skin as soft as silk. His flaxen mane spilled out from his head, the lingering scent of lilac and jasmine upon his hair and skin. It still pained the Elda to see the scar that now marred what once was flawless skin, but it was a symbol of the bond they now shared, a bond that would never be broken. His fingertips trailed over it, following the jagged line from abdomen to armpit. He remembered well the pain that had come with that blow, and the hope that his soul would be purged by the Balrog's fire.

He smiled lovingly as he dipped his mouth to his lover's chest; Thranduil's deep moans were like music to his ears, soothing his wounded and tormented soul. All remnants of the darkness Eöl and his son had worked upon him were gone, and in its place was the pure light and love that Thranduil gave him. The feeling of his lover's fingers in his hair, massaging his scalp, was so comforting in its pureness. So much emotion conveyed by so simple an act.

Thranduil guided him to sit up, and he balanced himself upon his heels in between his lover's legs. He laughed softly, realizing that he had not stopped smiling since Thranduil had told him he still loved him.

Thranduil smiled in return as he gently removed the warrior's braids. "And just what are you laughing at, rawen?"

"I must look like a fool, grinning from ear to ear as if I were a simpleton. But I cannot help myself, I have not felt so light or so free in over an age."

"Well, you are my simpleton, Glorfindel," Thranduil answered as the last braid slipped free. "My beautiful, remarkable simpleton."

Glorfindel sighed as his lover massaged his scalp; his arousal pulsated in the juncture between his hip and his thigh. He returned the favor to his lover, slowly taking down Thranduil's braids as the king's hands caressed his body.

"I want you to take me, Glorfindel," Thranduil whispered into his lover's ear. "I want to know what it is to sheathe you inside me."

Glorfindel straddled Thranduil's lap, holding the king's face in his hands. "Have you ever given yourself to another, seron vell?"

Thranduil slowly shook his head. "No, I have not. But I trust you not to hurt me."

Glorfindel caressed his cheek and whispered, "Never again will I hurt you…"

He rose off the bed, moving to Thranduil's dressing table and retrieving the phial of oil the king had used on him the night before. Glorfindel knelt between his lover's legs as he coated his fingers with the slick substance before circling Thranduil's entrance with the pad of his index finger. As he took his lover's arousal into his mouth, he slid a single finger inside him, hearing his deep moan and feeling his body tighten around his digit. Thranduil began to undulate onto his hand as he worked more of his lover's arousal into his throat. The king's body began to relax around the intrusion as his passion climbed to greater heights. Glorfindel worked upon Thranduil's length in earnest, slipping a second finger in as his own arousal pulsated mercilessly between his legs, straining for his lover, twitching in anticipation. His lover came with a hoarse cry; the king's seed spilling down his throat. He worked a third finger inside his beloved, crooking it and finding his mark, causing Thranduil to cry out as the king's length twitched inside his mouth.

"So that is what that feels like…" Thranduil whispered hoarsely as his length slipped from Glorfindel's lips.

Glorfindel chuckled as he kissed his way up his lover's chest. "Yes, quite exquisite, is it not?" he murmured before claiming Thranduil's mouth in a heated kiss.

As Glorfindel pulled away from the kiss, Thranduil whispered, "What a perfect word to describe it… exquisite…"

"On your hands and knees, melethen," Glorfindel answered quietly. "It will make it easier for you."

Thranduil nodded and rolled to his stomach before rising to his hands and knees. Glorfindel knelt behind him; his oil slicked arousal placed at his lover's entrance. "Remember to breathe, meleth. I will go slowly."

Thranduil nodded in consent as he felt the warrior's hands come to rest upon his hips, steadying him. He closed his eyes and drew a deep breath, exhaling as his body was breached by his lover's arousal for the first time. He set his jaw against the burning pain he felt. The warrior pushed through, filling him beyond what he thought possible, and stretching him beyond what he thought he could bear. Finally, all movement ceased and he tried to relax around the invasion; Glorfindel was completely sheathed inside him. Soft caresses upon his back and hips, accompanied by whispered words of love and encouragement were what he focused on as his body slowly relaxed.

Gently, Glorfindel began to move inside his lover. He was engulfed in tight, pulsating warmth; he nearly spent himself as he entered his beloved. He had never taken one for the first time, preferring to choose his lovers among the more experienced that came his way. As Thranduil relaxed around him, he began to move more freely. He knew it would not be long before he lost himself totally. He angled his thrusts and found his mark again, causing Thranduil to cry out and buck back against him. As he drove forward, he placed his hand upon Thranduil's chest, encouraging him to lean back and kneel before him. The king's head came to rest upon his shoulder as he thrust inside him, and he took his lover's reawakened arousal in his hand and began to pump it in time with his thrusts.

"Come for me, melethen," he whispered into his lover's ear. Thranduil gripped his hips tightly and thrust forward into his hand before rocking back onto his arousal. He felt his lover's body tighten around him, Thranduil's cries echoing in his ears as he growled deep in his throat and spilled his essence inside his lover.

Glorfindel wrapped his arms around Thranduil, holding him close as his length twitched inside him. He nuzzled the king's neck, caressing the juncture of neck and shoulder with his lips. He felt Thranduil's hands in his hair and he smiled. He was where he wanted to be always, wrapped in his beloved, immersed in his scent.

As he slowly slipped from Thranduil's body, he placed a gentle kiss upon his shoulder. Thranduil turned and took his hand, guiding him from the bed toward the baths where they lingered until weariness took them, then they returned to their bed and slipped deep into reverie.

To be continued…

Melethen = my love

Seron vell = dear lover

Rawen = my lion

Meleth = love

Several days passed in peace as the Galadhrim prepared to return home. Elrohir spent as much time as possible with Rúmil, reluctant to waste one moment before their separation. He knew this would not be an easy relationship. Rúmil was committed to his duty to his lord and lady and that would not change; Elrohir could not change who he was, or his role in Imladris' future either. They would spend long months apart, and try to be together as much as they could when the opportunity arose, as they had over the last years of their courtship. He had thought about these things before he resolved to ask Rúmil to bond with him; but the heart pays little attention to practicalities.

He sat in the middle of the bed, sheets pooled around his bare waist, watching his beloved reorganize the items in his pack once more. When he woke, he had found himself alone in the bed, and at first, he had feared Rúmil had left without waking him. Then he heard his betrothed quietly rifling through his pack. He watched him sadly, wishing he could go with him. But to do that would take Elladan away from Legolas, and their relationship was just beginning; he would never do anything to hurt his beloved twin.

He and Elladan had never been apart for more than a day or so. Each always knew where the other was, what they were doing, and if they were well. It was true that the bond they shared was closer than many expected or understood. He literally felt what Elladan felt, the pain, the fear, the anger, the love, the joy… all of it. They shared a bond that would never be broken, and that bond had held them together their entire lives. He wondered what would happen when he and Rúmil bonded, and began living together as much as they may. He wondered what effect that would have on Elladan, as it would mean they spent more and more time apart. He surmised that was the cause of Elladan's reaction upon hearing he and Rúmil would bond. He had no doubt that Elladan was happy for him; but now that he thought upon it, he understood the shock his twin felt.

His gaze fell to the bed as he picked at the sheets and wondered when their lives had grown so complicated. It seemed not so long ago their greatest worry was remembering their history lessons. He felt the bed sink beneath the weight of his lover and looked up into Rúmil's pale eyes.

Rúmil lifted Elrohir's chin and cocked his head, concern was plainly written on his lover's features.

"Melethen? What is the matter? You look troubled."

Elrohir shrugged as he reached up and placed his hands on Rúmil's shoulders. "I hate it when we have to part. We have had so little time together over the last year." His fingers softly kneaded Rúmil's shoulders. "I do not want you to go…"

Rúmil gathered Elrohir into his arms and held him tight. "I know this is difficult, Elrohir. I feel it too; I hate to be parted from you, seron vell." He sighed as he continued, "But I have to return home, there are those who need us, and the watch has been depleted since we left to pursue the yrch." He sat back and caressed his lover's face. "Oh, my beautiful Elrohir. Just the sight of you causes my heart to swell with joy. The first day I saw you, I knew I was lost; I have never been so happy to be lost in all my life."

A smile curved Elrohir's full lips as he caressed his beloved's cheek. "As was I, though I tried hard to hide it…"

Rúmil laughed softly and nodded. "Aye, I was convinced you wanted nothing to do with me. You would barely speak to me. I did not understand at first that you were as unsure about what to do with your feelings as I was."

"Thank the Valar for Orophin, yes? It was he that threw us together…" Elrohir mused.

Rúmil brought Elrohir's hand to his lips, pressing a kiss to it before answering, "Aye, quite literally. I thought I broke your nose."

Elrohir chucked. "I thought you might have as well. It is funny how so small an injury can hurt so badly."

"Luckily, it was a low lying talan he pushed me from, otherwise we might have both been hurt more gravely." Rúmil chuckled.

"And lucky for me, you must be part cat, or I would have been well and truly flattened when you landed on me."

"Imagine my horror when I thought I had broken the nose of one of the heirs to Imladris…"

Rúmil laughed and leaned forward into Elrohir's arms as his lover pulled him down to the bed. He rested against his beloved's chest, contentedly stroking it, combing his long fingers through the soft, sable hair that grew over his torso.

"When are you leaving?" Elrohir asked quietly.

"Soon, after the morning meal I would imagine. We want to clear the forest boundary before nightfall."

"Aye, wise decision," Elrohir answered. "Taur-e-Ndaedelos is not a welcoming place after nightfall."

Rúmil nodded then turned and propped himself on his elbows so that he could gaze into his beloved's eyes. His thumbs trailed over Elrohir's full lips, soon replaced by his own mouth as he pressed a kiss to his lover. He sighed as Elrohir opened to him, as he always did, his lover never denied him. He drank deeply of Elrohir, his tongue sweeping across his mouth and curling around his lover's own. The feeling of Elrohir's hands in his hair was one he knew with certainty he would never grow tired of, and he thanked the Valar for every moment of it. He reluctantly pulled back from the kiss, and whispered against his lover's lips, "Make love to me, Elrohir."

His lover answered his request by sliding his robe from his shoulders, the Peredhel's strong hands caressing his skin, leaving behind a trail of heat. A quiet gasp escaped him as Elrohir quickly rolled over him, covering his face in a veil of pure sable silk, pinning him to the soft mattress beneath his weight. "Valar, how I love you…" he whispered breathlessly as his lover worshipped his body with his own.

"And I love you, Rúmil…" Elrohir whispered. "You are what completes me, you are the best parts of me, my strength, my compassion, my honor… Without you, I would be so small a being."

Rúmil was overwhelmed with love and passion beyond reckoning. He gasped and moaned as Elrohir tasted him, his lover's hands exploring, caressing, and worshipping him. He arched beneath his lover, wanting to be touched everywhere at once.

"Take me, Elrohir," he whispered. "Fill me, I need you inside me…"

Elrohir reached across the bed, fumbling blindly through the drawer until his fingers found what they sought and closed around a small crystal phial. He sat up, his mouth reluctantly leaving his beloved's flesh so that he could coat his fingers in the oil. He grasped Rúmil's swollen and weeping arousal in his hand as he began slowly massaging his lover's entrance. He stroked the column of weeping and engorged flesh lovingly, trying to ignore the persistent ache in his own loins. He dipped his mouth to his lover's arousal, taking it inside as he slipped his finger into Rúmil's lithe body.

"Oh yes…" Rúmil moaned. His hands flew to the headboard of the bed, his fingers wrapping tightly around the smooth branches of oak. He arched into Elrohir, his blood turning to liquid fire, roaring through his body and purging it of all but this most primal of emotions. He began to plead desperately for his beloved as he spread his legs farther, offering himself shamelessly to him.

"Are you ready for me, pen vain?" Elrohir whispered.

"Yes…" Rúmil answered, nodding his head vigorously. He felt as though he would explode when Elrohir gathered his legs in his arms and placed himself at his entrance. The acrid taste of blood filled his mouth when he bit down on his lip to stifle his cry. Elrohir sheathed himself quickly inside him, pausing for only a moment before setting an excruciatingly slow pace. Rúmil braced himself against the wall, pushing down onto Elrohir's arousal as it entered him. Elrohir made love to him slowly, languorously, leisurely entering him before slowly withdrawing almost completely.

His lover's head hung down next to his own and heard Elrohir whisper, "So good… you feel so good, melethen." Rúmil groaned as Elrohir slid his legs up onto his shoulders and began thrusting faster and harder into him. He could no longer contain his cries as Elrohir rode his body to completion; his lover growled into his ear as he spilled himself deep inside him.

Gasping for air, his legs slid down Elrohir's arms and his lover gently placed them on the bed. His arousal throbbed and ached, weeping ceaselessly upon his belly. He nearly sobbed as Elrohir took him into his mouth, helping him find his own release as he spilled himself down Elrohir's throat.

Rúmil panted as his heart slowly returned to its normal rhythm. His eyes were closed and his lips parted as he felt his lover slide up his body and take his face in his hands.

"You are bleeding, melethen," Elrohir whispered. He soothed the wounded flesh of Rúmil's lip with his tongue, and smiled at the shuddering sigh that escaped his beloved. "You are so lovely undone this way, Rúmil. This is how I would like to see you always…"

Rúmil wrapped his arms around Elrohir and purred contentedly, "That would be a most wonderful way to spend my life, undone in your arms."

Elrohir nuzzled Rúmil's neck as he held him close. "I love you, Rúmil…" he whispered.

Rúmil stroked the thick sable hair that grew from his lover's head. "I love you, Elrohir," he answered.

* * * *

Orophin sighed and stretched, smiling at the weight he felt on his chest. He opened one eye and looked down at the wild mass of silver hair that spread across his chest. His smile broadened when he remembered the events of the night before. He and Agladir had spent nearly every night and many days together since the celebration. Agladir had been the first he had allowed to take him, and just as he imagined, the courtesan had done it with gentle care and remarkable skill.

As the significance of the day dawned upon him, a frown began to cloud his features. They were leaving this day, returning home to the Golden Wood. He was excited to return home, he found he missed it more than he would have previously believed. But he was also loath to leave his new lover; he found he had become quite attached to the young courtesan. Their last night together, Orophin had asked his lover why he did what he did. Agladir answered honestly and without shame, as he always did.

His lover said he did it because it was the best service he could provide to his lord. Thranduil had taken him and his sister in when they were still youngsters. They had lost their parents in a raid on one of the outlying settlements. Agladir and his sister had grown up in these caves, playing alongside the king's son, learning how to read and write, how to dance, and the ways of court. When he reached his majority, having been trained in a variety of things, he was given his choice of what he wanted to be. He chose the one thing he had no training in, but somehow knew he would be good at; he chose to be a courtesan. Years later, his sister, Eärwen, would choose to be a chef, proving to be one of the best any Elven realm had to offer.

Thranduil had questioned Agladir carefully about this decision, wanting the youth to be sure it was what he wanted. He ordered Agladir to wait the course of a year before he would allow it, and during that time, Agladir would serve the courtesans in Thranduil's court and act as his personal assistant. Agladir did as he was ordered, performing domestic duties for the courtesans and his lord; this gave him the opportunity to ask many questions about the service from those who performed it. When the year passed, he asked Thranduil once more to be permitted to be a courtesan. Agladir had recalled the scene…

"I was standing in his office, on one side of that imposing oak desk, my hands folded in front of me, my eyes shifting nervously from the desktop to his face and back again. I watched as he thoughtfully stroked his chin and looked at me. He finally said, 'I can see you will not be deterred. I am reluctant to take one into service that is so young and has not been introduced to the ways of love. However, if this is what you truly want to do, then I will allow it. Choose your tutor, Agladir, and your training may commence.' I swallowed, and at that moment I swear all the blood drained from my limbs and pooled in my feet. Somehow, I found the will to answer him and I said, 'I choose you.' I remember so clearly the look on his face; it was something akin to a mixture of horror and deep humility. He answered me by saying, 'Me?' I nodded and said, 'Yes, you, my lord.' I knew he had personally trained a select few, those he employed for his most favored guests. However, those he had trained had already been in service, I had not. I was basically asking my king and guardian to deflower me. He bid me leave so that he could consider my request, and I was deathly afraid he would reject it. After a few days time, he called me back to his office and granted my request. That night, my training began. I can only say, that I wish that everyone has such a first experience; it is one I will never forget. Since then I have become his most favored courtesan, I have been educated not only in the ways of love, but in poetry, history, politics, music, dance, art… I can hold my own in a conversation with any statesman, discuss battle tactics with the greatest of warriors, and woo those of my choosing to bed. I do this because I can, because it is my way of repaying him for his kindness and love, and I suppose because it gives me purpose in life."

Those words had profoundly affected Orophin. He understood Agladir's loyalty and sense of duty to his lord, he felt much the same about his own lord and lady. He put himself at risk for them everyday he was on the fences, willing to sacrifice his life for those he loved. He had also lost his parents at a young age, and Lord Celeborn and Lady Galadriel had taken him and his brothers into their family, raising them as if they were their own children. Neither Haldir nor Rúmil felt the bond quite as strongly as Orophin did, as they were older when they came to live in Caras Galadhon. He pressed his lips to the top of Agladir's head as he snuggled him closer. He made up his mind to pose an important question when his lover awoke.

To be continued…

Melethen = my love

Seron vell = dear lover

Pen vain = beautiful one

"Yes…" Elladan whispered. His arms were stretched over his head, fingers clinging to the slick rock, legs spread wide as he balanced on his toes in the waist-deep cool water. His hair clung damply to his face, accentuating his regal cheekbones and swollen parted lips, the tips of his ears protruded from the dark curtain of sable silk.

Legolas clung to Elladan's shoulders, trying to balance behind him; his lips roaming over his lover's shoulders and neck with abandon, his arousal buried deep inside his lover's body. The air was cool, the stars just beginning to fade from the velvet tapestry of sky and the sounds of the awakening forest sang in their ears.

"More…" Elladan whispered, "Faster…"

"Yes, ervainen vorn…" Legolas answered huskily. "I love you…"

"You do love me…" Elladan replied softy.

"Yes, I do…" Legolas responded with a deep murmur. "Oh Gods, Elladan… I am drowning in you; you feel so good, taste so good…"

Elladan moaned as his lover's hand slid down his tensed abdomen, Legolas' long archer's fingers wrapping around his swollen length and sliding up and down in long strokes, punctuated with a squeeze upon his weeping tip. He leaned his head back, gazing dazedly at the stars as they faded from the sky, feeling his lover's hard shaft penetrate him and withdraw, Legolas' hands milking his essence from him. His eyelids fluttered closed as he felt the final rush that would drag him over the edge and into the abyss. A strangled cry escaped his lips as he spent himself over Legolas' hand and into the cool water.

Legolas cried out into Elladan's hair as his own body tightened and coiled in on itself, his seed spilling forth into his lover's body. He nearly sobbed in rapture; each time he and Elladan made love it was more intense and they grew closer together. He held his lover, his cheek resting on Elladan's shoulder, his arms wrapped around his waist. A smile curved his swollen lips as he heard Elladan whisper, "I love you, so very much…" Legolas squeezed Elladan tight as his arousal finally slipped from the warm, velvet cloak of his lover's body.

He slowly released Elladan, smiling as he allowed the water to bear him up, and he floated upon his back, smiling at his lover. "Can we do this every morning?" he asked with a wicked smile.

Elladan chuckled as he turned and faced Legolas. "Oh, you would like that wouldn't you? Dragging me out of our warm bed, into this frigid pool and taking me against a rock like some common strumpet…"

It couldn't have been more than a fraction of a second between the time he heard the snap of the crude bow string and he saw the arrow strike his beloved in the shoulder, driving him beneath the water's surface.

"Legolas!" he shouted. He took a swift, deep breath and dove beneath the surface of the water.

Arrows pierced the calm of the pool, narrowly missing him as he swam toward his beloved. Legolas' hand gripped the arrow's shaft, blood drifting into the water, turning it an angry red. Elladan shook his head vigorously, instructing his lover not to pull the arrow out, and he helped Legolas back toward the cliff face. They emerged on the backside of the waterfall, where the orcs couldn't see them, and Legolas gasped for air and growled in anger and pain as Elladan inspected him.

"We have to get to our weapons, Elladan… we have to get back and warn the others…" he growled from his clenched jaw.

"I have to get this out of you first… do not move your arm…" Elladan answered.

"Ah…" Legolas groaned. "It is poisoned; I can feel it, my hand is going numb."

Elladan shook with both anger and fear as he quickly looked around for something to cut it free.

"My knives…" Legolas groaned. "In my quiver…" he pointed shakily toward where they had left their belongings. The orcs that attacked them had not found them or their belongings yet, but he could hear them climbing the rock face over their heads.

"Stay here… do not make a sound," Elladan whispered. He slipped beneath the surface of the water and began swimming toward where they left their things. He emerged, and saw the first pale rays of Anor's light beginning to emerge from the East, and he prayed for its swift arrival. Fumbling blindly over his head, his hand closed on the leather strap attached to Legolas' quiver. He slowly and carefully drew it toward him, trying not to make a sound.

Nearby he heard an orc grunt, "Humph… foul light… must go…"

He froze and held his breath, listening to the thudding footsteps as they left the clearing. When he was sure they were gone, he swam back to Legolas as quickly as he could, knives in hand.

When he reached his lover, he found him shivering and pale, the fever had already started. He grasped a wet and worn stick from a nearby fallen tree and handed it to his lover.

Legolas moaned and took it from him. "Get it out, Elladan… please, it is killing me."

Elladan nodded, and he watched as Legolas placed the stick in his mouth and bit down on it.

Elladan took a deep breath, trying to control the tremor in his hands. He placed the knife on Legolas' skin, and began cutting the flesh around the arrow. He swallowed as a muffled cry escaped his lover's lips and blinked back his tears as he continued his task. This was too much like his mother, too familiar, and he fought to keep the memories buried.

He removed the arrow and flung it into the pool. He took the stick from Legolas' mouth and caressed his face. "I am going to have to move you now, melethen. We have to swim to the bank."

Legolas nodded weakly as Elladan took his good arm and slung it over his shoulder. They slipped into the water and Elladan bore him to the bank. Once there, his lover made a makeshift bandage of his undershirt and part of his tunic. Elladan then dressed him and pulled on his own clothes. A weak cry escaped Legolas' lips as Elladan gathered him into his arms and began to run back toward the caves.

* * * *

In two separate rooms, two elves sat bolt upright in bed, one a father sensing his son's distress, the other a twin, feeling his brother's pain.

"Legolas!" Thranduil gasped. He threw back the covers and bolted from the bed.

Glorfindel was jolted awake, sitting up to find his lover already furiously pulling on his leggings and tunic. "What is it, melethen?" he asked, quickly rising from the bed to join him.

"Legolas, he has been injured. I must go…"

"I am coming with you…" Glorfindel practically jumped into his leggings and frantically pulled on his tunic, bolting after Thranduil before he could pull on his boots.

* * * *

"Elladan!" Elrohir gasped. "No… oh, no..." He leapt from the bed, furiously pulling on his clothes.

"Is he hurt?" Rúmil asked as he joined his lover, already aware of the close connection that the two of them shared.

"No, I don't think so… Oh, Gods… but Legolas is, and badly." He made for the door and stopped, turning and grabbing his sword. "Bring your weapons, they are not alone."

Rúmil swallowed and grabbed his quiver and bow, following Elrohir at a run. He paused only long enough to collect Haldir and Orophin, knowing that, if his suspicions were right, they would need all the help they could get. His brothers joined him quickly, collecting members of the Galadhrim as they made for the entrance to the caves.

* * * *

Thranduil grabbed the captain of the palace guard as they reached the barracks. "Gather as many as you can, we make for the eastern boundary. Legolas and Elladan are under attack and are trying to reach home. Hurry! And bring a healer!"

Glorfindel grabbed his sword, bow, and quiver and ran to the stables. He flung open the door to Asfaloth's stall and quickly greeted his old friend. "Come, mellon, we must make haste, the prince needs us."

He swung onto the stallion's back and bolted from the stable, cantering down the narrow passageway and into the courtyard as elves leapt out of the way. He flew over the bridge and into the wood, heading east into the sunrise, down the path toward the prince's favorite swimming hole.

* * * *

"Ai!" Elladan shouted, as an arrow flew past his head, striking the trunk of a tree as he dodged it. He was running as fast as he could. Legolas had slipped into unconsciousness soon after leaving the pond. When they entered the shadow of the trees, the orcs descended upon them, and the foul beasts were rapidly gaining ground on their prey. Elladan figured they were at least two miles from the caves still, and he was beginning to weaken. He grunted as he leapt over a fallen log, his legs beginning to feel like lead, his arms and back burning from the strain of carrying the limp form of the prince.

The high pitched whine of an Elvish arrow greeted his ears, and the shriek of a fallen orc came from behind him. In a vision he would not soon forget, a flash of white greeted his eyes, the angry roar of an enraged stallion mixed with the war cry of his dearest friend and tutor echoed in his ears.

"Glorfindel!" he called.

Asfaloth came to a halt in front of him and Glorfindel slid from the stallion's back.

"On the horse now, Elladan, there is no time to waste. Get Legolas back to the caves!"

Elladan allowed the warrior to take Legolas from him and place him on the stallion's back. Black arrows split the air around them, and a thick mist began to rise from the ground. "What of you?" he asked, as he mounted behind Legolas, wrapping one arm around the prince's waist and tangling the fingers of his other hand in Asfaloth's mane.

"Asfaloth cannot bear all three of us, and the prince cannot ride alone. Hurry Elladan, there is no time…" the Elda placed his hands on Asfaloth's broad neck and whispered to his companion "Make haste, mellon, go now…"

The stallion nickered and tossed his head, and obeying his master's command, he turned on his haunches and bolted into the mist, galloping and leaping trees in his haste to return to the caves.

The Elda turned slowly, grim determination transforming his beautiful face into one of terrible fierceness. He drew his bow and began firing into the advancing hoard of orcs.

To be continued…

Ervainen vorn = my dark, beautiful one

Melethen = my love

Mellon = friend

"I can barely see in this fog!" Haldir called out in hushed voice.

"Up ahead… not much further…" Thranduil answered.

They ran through the dark forest, keeping close to the ground as they leapt over fallen trees and ducked low hanging branches. They did not see the white stallion as it flew by them, but Thranduil immediately sensed his son's passing. He paused to look behind him as he listened to horse's hoofbeats fade into the distance.

"Ah!" he shouted, as a black arrow sliced the air and split the sleeve of his tunic. He spun around and growled, his lips curled in a feral sneer as he raised his sword and called for the charge.

The wood echoed with the fell war cry of elves and orcs as the two groups clashed. Angry sounds of battle echoed in the dense fog, cries of wounded elves and shrieks of dying orcs drifted upon the air. The battle was fierce but thankfully short, and when it was over, not an orc was left standing. Thranduil searched the battlefield, calling out when he found wounded elves, dispatching those orcs that suffered in their death throes.

"Glorfindel!" Thranduil called, his voice echoing through the forest.

No answer.

"Glorfindel!" Elrohir echoed the king's call.

"My lord!" Haldir's voice raised among those searching for their friend.

Thranduil's heart began to constrict in his chest, fear that he had lost one he had fought so hard for began to cloud his spirit. It was then that he heard it. The sharp ring of Elvish steel against the dull clank of Orcish iron, the growl of an angry warrior and the answering grunt of a fell orc.

"There!" Orophin called, pointing to a cliff top.

In a nightmarish vision, Thranduil watched his beloved battling with the largest orc he had ever seen. The orc's sword crashed into the ground as Glorfindel sidestepped the blow. He shouted as he drove his blade into the orc's chest. The dying orc lurched backward, and in one last, desperate attempt to kill his foe, he grabbed a handful of the warrior's loose golden hair, dragging him off the cliff as they fell.

Thranduil did not recognize the sound of his own voice as he cried out and began running toward the foot of the cliff. A loud gasp escaped those who watched, and Elrohir was on the king's heels as they ran toward Glorfindel.

Glorfindel howled in pain as they impacted the ground, the dull crunch of breaking bones ringing in his ears. He rolled down the leaf-covered hillside, coming to rest at the bottom, his sword arm cradled against his side as he set his jaw against the pain. The orc landed some feet away with a dull thud; its lifeless body fouling the ground upon which it lay with its black blood.

"Glorfindel!" Thranduil called as he skidded to a halt on his knees beside the warrior. "Do not move, melethen," he said as calmly as he could. He lifted his head to call for the healer, but before the words could leave his mouth, Elrohir was already at his side.

"Glorfindel, tell me where you are injured…" the Peredhel said softly.

"My arm," the warrior ground out from his clenched jaw. "It is broken."

"Are you sure?" Elrohir asked.

"Quite." The warrior answered.

"I need some fabric and two sturdy sticks to make a sling, and some willow bark and valerian root. Does it grow here?" Elrohir asked the king.

"Aye…" Thranduil turned to find his healer had already arrived.

The healer reached into his pouch, giving Elrohir some of the herbs he requested.

The warrior chewed upon the bitter substance as Elrohir constructed a splint to immobilize his arm. Thranduil and Elrohir then lifted Glorfindel to his feet and began helping him back down the hill.

"I should kill you myself, you know," Thranduil groused. "So typical of you to rush off alone and put yourself in this ridiculous predicament. You may be immortal, but you are not indestructible, Glorfindel. I am not so sure Mandos would send you back a second time."

Glorfindel grinned despite the pain he was in. Thranduil may have been complaining, but he could feel the relief and love that came from his grumbling lover. "Yes, well I am a bit thick, I suppose," he answered.

Thranduil paused and caressed the back of the warrior's head. "My simpleton…" he whispered.

Glorfindel smiled and pressed his forehead to his lover's. "My king…" came his hushed answer. He took a deep breath and winced. "Ai… There may be more than just my arm that is broken..."

Elrohir rolled his eyes and sighed. "I do grow weary of putting you back together, Glorfindel. I think I am well past needing the practice."

Glorfindel smiled at his pupil, then turned to look at Thranduil. "You should go, melethen. I will be fine. Legolas needs you more than I."

Thranduil nodded and pressed a soft kiss to his lover's lips, then ran off into the forest toward the caves. Glorfindel motioned toward him and Haldir and Orophin nodded, following the king to ensure his safe passage back to the caves. Rúmil took Thranduil's place, and helped Elrohir get Glorfindel back to safety.

* * * *

Agladir paced nervously on the steps leading to the palace wing of the caves. He alternated between wringing his hands and clenching his fists as he watched the bridge for any sign of the returning elves. He saw his lord first, sprinting across the bridge, covered in grime and black orc blood and he ran down the stairs to meet him.

"Where is he?" Thranduil asked, his voice sounding far shakier than it ever had to Agladir's ears.

"In the healer's chambers, my lord. Lord Elladan is with him…" Agladir took Thranduil's sword as it was thrust into his grasp, and watched the king run toward the healer's chambers. He heard more footsteps and turned, unable to suppress his sigh of relief when he saw Orophin crossing the bridge behind Haldir.

He nodded to the captain as he passed, then embraced Orophin tightly.

"Steady now…" Orophin said softly, as Agladir began to tremble in his arms. "All is well, meleth."

"I was so afraid…" Agladir whispered between gasps. "I was so afraid I would never see you again…"

"Sshh… pen velui," Orophin whispered as he stroked Agladir's head. "I am well, no harm done. How is the prince?"

Agladir gathered his composure and answered, "He was wounded in the shoulder by a poisoned arrow. Elladan and the healers have arrested the spread of the poison, but he still suffers fever. Elladan says he will be well, but I can see he is worried."

Orophin took Agladir's hand. "Come, let us return the king's sword to the armory, then go back to my chambers. You and I have something to talk about."

Agladir nodded, wiping his tears on his sleeve as he followed Orophin back into the caves.

* * * *

"Greenleaf…" Thranduil whispered as he leaned over his son's still body. He brushed the damp hair from his face as he squeezed his hand. "Legolas, it is your adar. Here me, my son; come back to me…"

Elladan paced the floor at the foot of Legolas' bed, his arms crossed tightly over his chest, his lip trembling as he fought back tears. "'Tis my fault…" he whispered. "I never should have agreed to going out alone… I never…"

"Elladan…" Thranduil interrupted quietly but firmly. "I can only care for one of you at a time. Now is not the time for you to fall apart. Now is the time for you to be strong for him."

Elladan took a shuddering breath as he bit his lip and nodded his head. He moved to the opposite side of Legolas' bed and sat on a low stool, taking Legolas' hand in his own.

His lover's flesh felt as if it were on fire, sweat beaded on his forehead and face and it soaked his gown and bedding. Thin skins of cool water were placed under his arms and between his legs, and were changed several times an hour in an attempt to bring the fever down. The healers also placed crushed herbs under his tongue, but nothing was working, in fact, he seemed to be getting worse.

"I need Elrohir; I need his help…" Elladan said quietly.

Thranduil looked up at his son's lover and nodded. He turned to one of the healer's staff and bade them fetch Elrohir.

The main host was just crossing the bridge as the healer's assistant came running down the steps to greet them. He found Elrohir and bid him go to the healer's quarters as fast as he could. Elrohir took his leave of Glorfindel, running up the stairs as the young elf took his place and helped Rúmil get Glorfindel to the healer's quarters. Glorfindel heard the great iron gates clang shut for the first time since their arrival in Mirkwood. The caves were locked down as if they were in a state of war.

* * * *

Elladan and Elrohir sat on opposite sides of Legolas, each holding one of the prince's hands, their free hands were joined over his body. In the midst of the groans that filled the healer's chambers, they chanted words long forgotten in much of Middle-earth; it was the ancient language that only one other in the room understood.

Glorfindel raised his head from the cot he lay upon. The words the twins chanted were only used when one was trying to recall a wayward spirit from the path to Mandos' Halls. He swallowed, trying to hide the fear and concern that swelled within him, and he looked at his beloved who stood at the foot of his son's bed. He closed his eyes; summoning what strength he had left, and joined his voice to that of Elladan's and Elrohir's…

He saw the path in his mind; he was the only one present who knew it. He followed it, the long and twisted road through the mist that he had taken so long ago. Up ahead he saw the prince, wandering, lost, confused. He ran toward him calling his name, "Legolas!"

The prince turned, a warm smile curving his lips. "Where are we, Glorfindel?"

Glorfindel caught him and turned him back the way he came. "We are on the wrong road, ernilen."

"The wrong road? But I heard Adar calling me… I heard Elladan calling me… their voices came from that direction." He pointed back over his shoulder.

"That is not your adar, nor is that Elladan, Legolas. I promise you, those who call you are not who they seem to be. The Dark Lord's malice was in the poison that infected you, it is his voice that calls you…"

It was then that Glorfindel heard voices he had lived with for so long but almost forgot; voices calling his name, voices that wanted to lay claim to what had once been theirs.

The Elda paused and looked over his shoulder, then turned to Legolas. "The path home is that way, ernilen," he said gently and pointed. "Keep to the road, do not look back, and you will find those whom you seek."

Legolas nodded and continued on. "Are you not coming?" he called back over his shoulder.

"I will be right behind you, ernilen. I have something I must do first…"

* * * *

Legolas moaned as he stirred, and Elladan and Elrohir blinked as they returned from their trance.

"Legolas…" Elladan whispered, and the prince groaned in response.

"Greenleaf!" Thranduil sat next to Elladan on the bed, taking the hand that Elrohir relinquished.

Father and lover greeted the one they had prayed so hard for, as Elrohir rose from the bed and turned toward his tutor.

"Thanks be to the Valar, you have returned…" Thranduil sighed, as his son opened his eyes.

"Legolas… melethen…" Elladan whispered.

A weak smile curved the prince's lips as he answered, "Well, if it is not the two I love most in all the world…"

"Glorfindel?"

Elrohir sat on the edge of his seneschal's bed and picked up his limp hand. "This cannot be… you only had a broken arm and a bruised rib…" he whispered. Elrohir patted his tutor's cheek, trying to rouse him. "Glorfindel!" he barked, "this is no longer humorous, wake up!"

Thranduil looked over to where his lover lay, still and pale. "No…" he whispered. He quickly rose and crossed the room to his beloved.

"He said he was going to be right behind me…" Legolas mumbled, groggy from the various concoctions he had been given for fever and infection.

"What, meleth?" Elladan questioned. "What did you just say?"

"He found me," Legolas answered. "I was lost on the path and he turned me around. He stopped and said he had something he had to do and would be right behind me… Should we go look for him?"

"No, seron vell," Elladan answered, trying to cover the growing sense of fear he felt. "Rest now, I will see to him." He rose from his lover's bed and crossed the room to where Glorfindel lie.

Elladan placed his hand on his brother's shoulder.

"Why will he not wake, Elladan? He is not badly injured, he should not be unconscious…"

Elladan could hear the alarm in his twin's voice. He reached out for Elrohir with his thoughts, **He is on the path, Elrohir… He found Legolas; it was Glorfindel who brought him back. He lingers, I know not why…**

Elrohir tried to hide the fear in his eyes as he answered, **We must bring him back, Elladan. We cannot lose him, Thranduil cannot lose him, not now…**

Elladan nodded and they began to chant silently, hands joined, minds moving as one.

Thranduil sat opposite the twins, holding Glorfindel's hand, searching for him with his thoughts; but the king was unable to reach his lover. He laid his head upon Glorfindel's shoulder whispering to him, "Where have you gone, melethen? Why have you left me?" His voice faded as tears began to fall from his eyes, and he held on to the hope that Glorfindel would yet return.

To be continued…

Melethen = my love

Meleth = love

Pen velui = lovely one

Ernilen = my prince

Seron vell = dear lover

TBC

"You…" Glorfindel growled. "You will not leave me be, will you?"

"Why should I? You are mine…"

"I am not yours. I never was yours, despite what you made me believe," the warrior answered.

"Ah… just as beautiful as I remember, though I must say that this new side of you is quite alluring. You are most beautiful when you are being defiant. Perhaps I should have allowed you to fight back, it would have made the taking of you so much more delicious."

"How are the dungeons of Mandos' Halls? I hear the air can be quite crisp, much like your soul…"

"Oh ho! My pet has a sense of humor now, does he? I suppose cavorting and supplicating for that Sinda has made you somewhat saucy. He is not as strict a task master as I am, I would imagine."

"I am not your pet, Eöl, not any longer. I am finally free of you and your black hatred."

"You think that pretty king can protect you from me? I am far stronger than that pathetic excuse for an elf; in time, you will be mine again."

"I do not need him to protect me, hû. I no longer need protection, for I know now what you are. You are not as strong as you believe; you are truly pathetic and loathsome. Enjoy your stay here, Eöl; it promises to be a long one."

The Elda turned his back, Eöl's angry screams fading into nothingness as he turned on his next tormentor.

"Caulen, how good to see you again…"

"I am not staying this time either, Maeglin," Glorfindel answered.

"I would have hoped that by now you saw that my love for you is indeed genuine."

"Poor, dear Maeglin. I feel sorrow when I think of the promise that was held in your eyes when you were young. I wonder what you would have been like had Aredhel taken you far from Nan Elmoth before your father's darkness infected your soul."

"Feel no pity for me, caulen," Maeglin answered. "Memories of your yielding body will keep me warm in the time to come."

"That is all you will ever have, Maeglin, memories." Glorfindel reached out and caressed the scarred and battered cheek. "As for me, I release you of your lordship over me; you will no longer control me or haunt my memories. You will not see me again… Namarie."

The door closed behind him and Glorfindel gazed back down the path he had traveled three times now. The deep and foreboding voice of Mandos greeted him, though no image appeared.

"Are you finished with these halls, Glorfindel?"

"I suppose you are the only one who knows the answer to that, my lord," Glorfindel answered. "However, I will not seek them purposefully. I have seen too much of them as of late."

"Agreed. Go now, pen vuil, your destiny awaits you."

"Namarie, my lord. I hope we do not meet again."

With those words, Glorfindel took his first steps down the path to his new life.

* * * *

Orophin placed his arm around Agladir as his exhausted friend laid his head upon his shoulder.

"Are you weary, melethen?" he asked softly.

"Yes," Agladir answered.

"My departure has been delayed, I know not for how long. Would you care to spend the time with me until I leave?"

"Of course I would, you ridiculous elf…" Agladir teased, as he pushed Orophin to his back upon the bed.

Orophin laughed quietly as he cradled Agladir's head upon his shoulder. "Meleth?" he whispered.

"Yes?" Agladir answered.

"Have you ever thought of leaving this place?"

Agladir sat up and looked down at his lover. "It is my home, Orophin."

"I know this," Orophin answered as he caressed his lover's cheek. "But is it not possible to make a new one? To start again somewhere else?"

"What are you asking me, Orophin?" Agladir asked in a hushed whisper.

Orophin cleared his throat, summoning the courage to make a leap of faith. "I want you to come to Lórien with me, Agladir."

Agladir's eyes widened and he responded, "For how long?"

"Forever," Orophin answered. Before Agladir could answer, Orophin launched into a long-winded explanation. "I know we have not known one another long, meleth. But we have grown so close, I cannot imagine spending time away from you now. I cannot lose you now that I have found you. Please, meleth… say something, say anything…"

Agladir schooled his expression into one of calm reserve. This was not the first proposal of this kind he had ever received, but it was the first that was delivered with such certainty and sincerity. "I would respond if you would stop speaking and give me the opportunity…" he teased.

Orophin bit down on his lower lip as he awaited his lover's answer.

"What would I do there? Your realm does not employ courtesans, and I will not live off you. I have always taken care of myself, I do not intend to stop now."

Orophin answered hurriedly, "Why, you could do almost anything you wanted! Work in Lord Celeborn's library, in Lady Galadriel's gardens, work in the taverns, or with the elflings… You could be a minstrel, I have heard you sing, you have a most beautiful voice… You could work with the warriors, fletching arrows and making bows, sharpening swords and mending uniforms…"

Agladir laughed and placed his fingers upon Orophin's lips. "Alright! Silence, you exuberant elf!"

Orophin bit his lip again and nodded.

Agladir pondered this question. He cared deeply for Orophin, though it defied explanation. He barely knew the elf, yet he felt as if he had known him all his life. He adored Orophin; actually, he was almost sure that he loved him. A smile curved his lips as he answered, "Yes, I will come with you to Lórien."

"Oh, Agladir!" Orophin cried, "You have made me the happiest elf in all of Elvendom!" He pulled his lover to the bed and rolled over him, claiming his sweet mouth with a deep kiss.

* * * *

Rúmil stood nearby, watching the twins in their silent meditation. He looked to the golden elf lord who lay so peacefully on the narrow bed, as if he were but sleeping. Grief was taking a toll on Thranduil very quickly. It pained him to see the king's radiance fade before his eyes. "Please, Glorfindel," he whispered. "Hurry back, he needs you…"

A choked sob wracked Thranduil's body as Glorfindel's breath grew more shallow, his skin was becoming so cold. Elladan and Elrohir's brows were knit in concentration as they desperately reached out for their dear friend and tutor. Thranduil's tears rolled down his cheeks, falling onto Glorfindel's lips. He cared not that there were many that watched this open display of grief with hushed whispers; it frightened them to see their strong king brought so low.

Elladan faltered in his exhaustion, and Elrohir felt their bond break. Elrohir turned and looked at his twin, at the dark circles forming beneath Elladan's eyes, at the sallow look of his skin. "Elladan, please, I know you are tired," he whispered.

Elladan nodded. "Let us try again," he answered. He closed his eyes and the chant began to fall from their lips in hushed whispers.

Suddenly, Glorfindel gasped, his chest expanding rapidly as he began to wake.

"Glorfindel?" Thranduil whispered.

The Elda's eyes fluttered open and an exhausted smile curved his lips. "Hello, melethen…" he whispered hoarsely.

Elladan nearly collapsed in relief, Rúmil rushing forward to steady his friend, helping him to a chair next to Legolas' bedside. Haldir let out a breath that he had not realized he had been holding, as Elrohir murmured his thanks to the Valar.

Thranduil leaned over his lover, caressing his face. "What in Eru's name just happened, Glorfindel?" he croaked.

"I went to fetch Legolas… Did he return?" Glorfindel answered sleepily.

"I am here, Glorfindel…" Legolas called from across the room. "What took you so long?"

"By the Valar, I do not know which one of you to throttle first," Thranduil shook his head as he chuckled in relief. "The two of you just put an entire age upon me."

"I am sorry, Ada," Legolas mumbled groggily, as Elladan laid his head upon the prince's uninjured shoulder. "I did not mean to worry you…"

"I forgive you, Greenleaf," Thranduil said to his son as a smile curved his lips. "But you," he murmured to Glorfindel, "have much to make up for. Two frights in one day are far more than I deserve."

Glorfindel smiled groggily as he pressed his face into Thranduil's hand. "I will make it up to you, I promise."

Things slowly returned to normal in the healer's quarters as the wounded warriors found rest under the watchful eyes of their lovers.

* * * *

Thranduil walked slowly beside his beloved as they made their way to his chambers. He took note of the glances cast their way as they traveled the corridors from the healer's chambers to his own. A rueful smile curved his lips as he imagined what they must look like. Glorfindel was a frightful sight. Elrohir had cut away his tunic in the healer's quarters, and treated the various cuts and scrapes that covered the Elda's chest and arms. Glorfindel's arm was in a cast, cradled against his chest by a sling. Twigs, leaves, and dirt marred the Noldo's golden mane, his feet were dirty and bloody, and his leggings were mired in black orc blood.

Thranduil himself was little better. Though the king had escaped serious injury, he was covered in black orc blood mingled with the blood of those elves that had been injured. His tunic was split on one sleeve, an angry red gash marring his ivory skin.

He helped Glorfindel into his chambers and the Elda grumbled, "I must bathe before going to bed." Thranduil nodded in agreement, then helped Glorfindel toward his private bath.

They entered the steam-filled room, and Thranduil quickly stripped his clothing, then undressed Glorfindel, and tossed the soiled garments into a corner. He helped Glorfindel into the warm water, stopping as it reached the Elda's waist. Glorfindel sighed as the grime of battle slowly dissipated and his lover washed his feet and his lower body before slipping beneath the water to cleanse himself. The Elda smiled as he watched his lover emerge from beneath the swirling water; his skin glistening as the water caressed it.

Thranduil smiled as he worked soap into his hair and his skin, removing all traces of orc and grime. He dipped beneath the surface again, rinsing the soap away before rising and smiling at his beloved. He approached Glorfindel, who sat on one of the steps leading down into the water, and placed his hands upon his lover's knees.

"Shall I wash your hair, rawen?" the king asked softly.

Glorfindel answered with a nod and a smile, then rose slowly and left the pool. Thranduil helped him sit upon the floor next to the water, then steadied the warrior as he lowered himself to his back. The king then re-entered the water and cradled Glorfindel's head in one hand as he poured warm water over his hair with a small wooden bowl.

The Elda smiled and sighed as his lover's fingers worked the soap into his hair, all traces of orc and warfare disappearing into the warm water. Scents of rosemary and sage drifted into the air around them and he nearly fell asleep upon his back in the baths. He sensed his lover hovering over him and he opened his eyes to gaze into Thranduil's own.

"Come, melethen, let us dry ourselves and return you to bed. Elrohir gave me strict instructions to see that you rest while you recover."

Glorfindel nodded and allowed Thranduil to help him into a sitting position. The king then exited the bath and helped him to his feet, drying his damp skin and wet hair with a thick cloth.

Glorfindel closed his eyes as Thranduil removed the sling and slipped a soft linen nightshirt over the cast, then slid it over his head. The king helped him place his free arm through the sleeve, then laced the front closed. Glorfindel's lips curved into a smile as Thranduil placed a soft kiss upon them and then helped him into the bed.

"Rest, rawen," Thranduil murmured against Glorfindel's lips as he tucked him in. "I must speak with my captain and ensure that the borders are secure, then I will return."

The herbs Elrohir had given him were taking full effect, and Glorfindel could not suppress the yawn that escaped him. The feeling of soft linen and silk against his skin, the warm, soft pillows, and the comforting weight of the blankets quickly did their work; he blinked sleepily and sighed as reverie took him.

To be continued…

Hû = dog

Caulen = my affliction

Pen vuil = dear one

Melethen = my love

Meleth = love

Days passed, and both Glorfindel and Legolas healed with typical Elvish speed. They were both out of bed, though not fully returned to duty, when the Galadhrim prepared once again to depart. Several of the archers of Lórien had sustained wounds in the skirmish with the orcs, and now that they had recovered, Haldir and his company prepared to return to the Golden Wood.

Thranduil sat at his desk, looking at a map of his realm and making notations of the recent orc attacks. He was still confused as to how the beasts could have come so close to his home without him sensing them. So far, the borders were clear, but the king's sight had diminished; he could no longer see as far into the wood as he was once able. He knew this could only mean one thing, that the Dark Lord's strength grew, and that the shadow that emanated from Dol Guldur was deepening.

A soft knock fell upon his door and he called for his visitor to enter. He smiled as Agladir came into his chamber and he rose from his chair, rounding the desk to bestow an embrace upon his most favored courtesan.

"Agladir, I have not seen much of you as of late," Thranduil said softly into the courtesan's ear. "How do you fare, pen neth?"

Agladir gave his beloved king a squeeze before relinquishing his hold upon Thranduil's waist, and stepped back as he nervously pushed his hands up inside his sleeves. "I am well, though I have come to make a request, my lord."

Thranduil saw the trepidation written upon Agladir's face and he motioned to the courtesan to sit as he perched on the edge of his desk. "Something troubles you, mellonen. Tell me, what do you need?"

Agladir blinked back tears that threatened to fall, as he swallowed the rapidly growing lump in his throat. He was certain of what he wanted to do, but now that it came time to ask permission, he found it was much harder than he anticipated.

"I have come to ask permission to leave your service, my lord," he answered in trembling voice.

Thranduil cocked his head, taking note of how upset Agladir was. "Has someone hurt you, Agladir? Has someone done something to make you want to leave my service?"

Agladir shook his head, his gaze falling to his lap. "No, my lord. No one has hurt me or treated me poorly. I…" He cleared his throat as he felt his voice begin to falter. "I…

Thranduil lifted his courtesan's chin and gazed into his shimmering eyes. A smile began to curve his lips as he interrupted, "You are in love…"

Agladir took a shuddering breath and nodded. "I believe so, though I am not quite sure…"

"It is Orophin, the young Galadhrim with which you have been spending so much time, is it not?" Thranduil queried.

"Aye, my lord. He has asked me to go to Lórien with him, and I have accepted." Agladir blinked against the tears that stung his eyes as he continued, "Please, do not think me ungrateful for all that you have given me, my lord. If it were not for you…"

Thranduil reached down and pulled Agladir from the chair and into his embrace. "Ssssh, pen vuil… I could never begrudge you being in love, nor would I ever think you ungrateful. I told you that you could leave my service and my realm whenever you wished. I hold to my word. You are free to go and pursue your love, and I bid you go with the grace of the Valar. I want nothing but happiness for you, Agladir."

Agladir pressed his face into Thranduil's neck, burying his face in the king's flaxen mane, breathing in his scent for the last time. He had always felt so safe and comforted in his lord's arms. He knew, as he leaned against his king, that he would never feel this embrace again.

"Thank you, my lord. I will ever be in your debt for all you have done for me."

Thranduil pressed a kiss to the side of Agladir's head. "It is I who is grateful, for the uncountable hours of happiness you have brought me since you came to live here. I will miss you, Agladir…"

Agladir nodded as he fought back a fresh wave of tears. "I will miss you, my lord. Though I plan to visit Eärwen when I may. My hope is that I will see you as well."

"Of course, Agladir. You are always welcome in my home. Now go, your young lover will be departing soon, and I imagine you have much preparation still."

Agladir nodded. "Aye…" he took Thranduil's face in his hands as he pressed a soft kiss to his cheek. "I will never forget you, my lord." He turned and hurried out of the king's study, nearly crashing into Glorfindel in his haste.

The Elda entered Thranduil's study, looking over his shoulder at Agladir, who hurried down the hall, wiping his tears upon his sleeve.

"Is everything well, melethen?" Glorfindel asked as he came into the room.

Thranduil sighed. "Aye, all is well. It appears Agladir has gone and fallen in love with Orophin. I am losing my best courtesan, but it comforts me to know he will be safe in the Golden Wood."

Glorfindel smiled as he caressed his lover's cheek. "You are a kind and generous ruler to give him leave to go."

Thranduil shook his head as he rose from the edge of his desk. "I am a sentimental fool is what I am. But I did not have the heart to discourage him; he would have been devastated."

Glorfindel furrowed his brow. "You do not wish him to go then?"

Thranduil sighed as he placed his hands on his lover's shoulders. "I am only concerned that things may not work out as he hopes they will. He and Orophin are both so young still, and this is so sudden. But it is in my nature to be over-protective, I cannot seem to stop myself." He smiled at his beloved. "How is your arm feeling, melethen?"

Glorfindel took a seat in a large chair as Thranduil moved back behind his desk. "It is much better. I am not quite ready to fire a bow, but I felt comfortable swinging my sword." He leaned forward and looked at the map on the desk. "What is this, orch sightings?"

Thranduil sat heavily in his chair and leaned back. "Aye. I still cannot understand how they were able to come so close without me sensing them. I have increased the patrols surrounding the caves, but I fear that these attacks will increase in both occurrence and in strength. That last skirmish was far more violent than I would have liked."

Glorfindel nodded. "Aye, those yrch were highly organized and used stealth in their attack. Elladan said they had no indication they were there until Legolas was struck. They approached downwind, even though that forced them to attack into the light, rather than keeping Anor to their backs and using the shade of the trees as shelter and cover."

Thranduil put his head in his hands as he leaned heavily upon the desk. "I sense they are looking for something. These last two incursions were more than just random attacks. They were being driven by some force and purpose beyond simple malice. The Dark Lord has indeed grown bold to launch an attack upon the realm of Galadriel and Celeborn. Our own skirmishes with yrch have been limited to attacks on patrols. They have never been so bold as to attempt to attack the caves. Yet, I believe that was the purpose of the last battalion sent forth."

Glorfindel nodded. "I agree; some dark purpose drives these yrch." He rose from his chair and moved to stand behind Thranduil, placing his hands upon his lover's shoulders and softly massaging them. "Come, melethen, leave these maps and thoughts of shadow for a brief while. Let us take a walk in the meadows."

Thranduil leaned back into the strong hands of his beloved. "Yes, a walk may help me clear my thoughts." He rose from his chair and took his lover's hand, leaving his study and walking toward the entrance to the caves.

* * * *

Legolas laughed as Elladan gently pushed him to the bed. He smiled as his lover's body covered his own, and he wrapped his long arms around the Peredhel.

"You have done too much this day, melethen," Elladan purred into Legolas' ear. "I do believe you need more bed rest, you are still recovering."

"Mmm… is that what this is, bed rest? For some reason, I do not think that rest is something you have planned for me," he crooned into Elladan's ear.

Elladan laughed softly as his lips caressed the soft underside of his beloved's chin. His fingers worked the small clasps on Legolas' tunic and he peeled the garment open. "I need to inspect your wound, meleth. I need to be sure it is healing properly."

Legolas chuckled. "My wound has healed. You are just looking for an excuse to take my tunic off…"

"Perhaps…" Elladan purred as he pressed his mouth to the fading scar on Legolas' shoulder.

Legolas smiled as he tangled his fingers in Elladan's hair, gently kneading the Peredhel's scalp as Elladan bestowed gentle kisses to his chest. Cool air drifted in from the prince's garden and Legolas murmured, "Autumn is almost upon us. Soon the mountain passes will be buried beneath the snow…"

Elladan nodded as he rested his head upon his lover's chest, stroking his arms with his hands.

"I do not want you to leave, Elladan, though I know you must," Legolas continued softly. "It will not be easy for us, spending long months apart."

"No, it will not melethen," Elladan answered. "But our love is strong, it will weather whatever comes our way."

Legolas closed his eyes, his long fingers threading through Elladan's sable locks, concentrating on the soft thudding of his beloved's heart against his chest. "My father will suffer too, being parted from Glorfindel after finally finding him. Long had he wished for one to cherish and hold as a lover does. My heart has been glad for him, having what he has desired for so long."

"Glorfindel has lived his entire second life without a beloved. Elrohir and I had given up on him finding happiness and love. Our lives are long, seron vell. Many are the days and years that we will all have to love one another. For now, duty calls us and separates us; much depends on what we do in the years to come. Something tells me that our lives will change greatly."

Legolas nodded. "Aye, I feel it too. There is an uneasiness that grows inside me; I know not what the source of it is, but I have felt it since the orch attack."

"How did they come upon us without either of us sensing them?" Elladan asked. "Elrohir and I have spent years uncounted hunting them in the wilds and mountains. We have tracked them over vast distances, over the most challenging terrain, in the worst of days and nights. Never have we been surprised; never has an orch taken us unawares."

"Adar says he thinks I sense them as easily as he does. I can smell them, hear them, know exactly where they are long before they ever see me. Many an orch has fallen not knowing who had slain it; most die before ever seeing even a glimpse of me. I know that part of the wood as well as I know myself; I have never seen an orch in it. I do not know how either of us missed their approach."

Elladan sat up, gazing down into Legolas' sapphire gaze as he caressed the prince's face. "It will not happen again, melethen. Never again will I see you hurt."

Legolas smiled. "My protector," he purred. "My very own orch slayer."

Elladan laughed softly and claimed the prince's lips with his own. He moaned as he tasted of his beloved, feeling Legolas' warm tongue curl around his own. His beloved bent his knees and parted his legs, and his weight settled between Legolas' thighs. He felt Legolas' long fingers questing underneath his tunic, sliding under the waistband of his leggings when a knock fell upon the prince's door.

Elladan groaned in frustration as he began to sit up, and Legolas grasped his shoulders and wrapped his long legs around his waist.

"Wait… they will go away," he whispered. "Do not move…"

The knock came louder followed by the urgent voice of the prince's second.

"My lord? Are you in there? It is urgent that I speak with you…"

Legolas sighed in resignation as he allowed his lover to rise from the bed. He sat up and buttoned his tunic as he crossed the room to open the door. He looked over his shoulder at Elladan, who was standing in the doorway between his bedchamber and the sitting room. He smiled at him as he watched him smooth his hair then nod to indicate he was ready.

Legolas opened the door and looked into the worried eyes of his second in command. "What is it, mellon? Has something happened?"

"The council is requesting your presence in chambers, my lord. They say it is urgent."

Legolas nodded and began to follow his captain with Elladan in tow. "Has my father been notified?" he asked.

"They are seeking him out as we speak. He was seen walking with Lord Glorfindel in the meadow."

Legolas cast a concerned look at his lover as they quickly followed the elf toward the council chambers.

* * * *

Elrohir quickly turned and looked back over his shoulder as his mount nickered and shifted nervously.

"What is it, melethen?" Rúmil asked, noting the concern on Elrohir's features.

"Did you hear that?" Elrohir asked quietly.

"Hear what?" Rúmil asked.

A faint, high-pitched scream echoed over the tops of the trees and Rúmil's eyes widened.

"That…" Elrohir answered in a hushed whisper. His lips curled in a feral sneer as his gray eyes narrowed.

"Sweet Elbereth," Rúmil whispered. "What was that?"

"We must go, now!" Elrohir urged his horse into a gallop and made for the caves.

Rúmil followed upon Elladan's horse, leaning forward as the gelding surged after Elrohir's mare.

"What was that, Elrohir?" Rúmil shouted over the din of cracking branches and pounding hooves.

"Úlairi," Elrohir called back. "Make haste, Rúmil, we cannot let it catch us!"

"Valar save us…" Rúmil answered as his horse flew over the ground. None of the Galadhrim had ever seen one of the Nazgûl. But that was about to change...

* * * *

Glorfindel's head snapped around and he growled before he realized it. Thranduil turned as well, his eyes widening as a sound almost forgotten echoed at the base of the mountains.

"Úlairi," Glorfindel growled.

"I must recall the patrols, we must lock down the caves!" Thranduil answered, as the two warriors ran back toward the palace.

* * * *

Haldir and Orophin passed Thranduil and Glorfindel as they re-entered the safety of the caves. "Get everyone inside, horses included!" Thranduil shouted to the palace guard.

Legolas came running down the stairs, followed by Elladan, when he heard his father's voice. "What is it, Adar?" he called above the shouts and worried screams of the frightened elves.

"Úlairi," Glorfindel answered. "Your father is recalling the patrols, we must get everyone inside…"

"Why do we not fight?" Legolas shouted.

Elladan put a restraining hand on the prince's shoulder. "There is no fighting Úlairi, meleth. There are few that can stand against them."

Thranduil placed a hand on Legolas' shoulder. "Gather the palace guard, place archers at the front and rear entrances; we must prepare to vacate the caves, if necessary."

Legolas' eyes widened in fear and he nodded. His father had never spoken of fleeing their home. He dashed off with Elladan to organize and gather their forces.

"Rúmil went riding with Elrohir!" Orophin shouted to Haldir. "They are out there!"

Haldir turned and called to Thranduil, "My lord! Rúmil and Elrohir are outside the gates! We must wait for them!"

Thranduil nodded and instructed the guards of the gate to wait as long as they could before closing them. Haldir and Orophin stood side by side, watching the road to the bridge for any sign of their brother and Elrohir.

To be continued…

Pen neth = young one

Mellonen = my friend

Pen vuil = dear one

Melethen = my love

Seron vell = dear lover

Mellon = friend

Meleth = love

Late Summer, 2951, Third Age, Taur-nu-Fuin, Caves of Thranduil

The roar of a fell beast echoed over their heads as Elrohir and Rúmil's horses flew down the path.

Elrohir growled in frustration, they had been spotted and it occurred to him that they were leading the Nazgûl straight for the entrance to Thranduil's caves. He veered off the path and tracked east, glancing under his arm to see Rúmil follow. They stayed low to their horses' necks as the beasts leapt fallen logs and dodged trees that were still standing. He quickly searched his memory for somewhere they could hide, somewhere that the Nazgûl would not follow, but his knowledge of Mirkwood was somewhat lacking. Their path was leading them toward the mountains of Mirkwood, near to the spot where the spider den had been eradicated. The trees grew thick and they were forced to halt and dismount. They moved deeper into the darkening wood, and Elrohir sensed that the Nazgûl had lost their trail.

Rúmil stood next to Elrohir, his bow drawn and ready, his warrior's ear trained on the sky above them. All was quiet, and he looked at his lover and saw Elrohir sigh in relief.

"It is gone." Elrohir glanced at Rúmil and saw his lover sigh in relief as he slowly lowered his bow.

"Úlairi in Taur-nu-Fuin?" Rúmil asked in a hushed whisper.

"This does not bode well," Elrohir answered quietly. "My father's fears were correct. If the Úlairi have taken up residence in Dol Guldur, then things are far worse than many suspect." He gave a reassuring rub to his mare's neck then continued, "We must get back to the caves and warn the others, Thranduil needs to know of this new threat."

They began picking their way through the thick underbrush back toward the elf path. They heard no sign of the winged beast or its dark master as they made their way toward the Enchanted River. Elrohir knew that this meant Sauron had indeed grown in strength if he was sending his most feared minions out. The orc attacks and the encroaching in shadow would be the least of their troubles if the One Ring were found. Elrohir knew that he and Elladan needed to return home as soon as possible, and he resolved to stop in Lórien to warn his grandmother and grandfather as well. He would also collect Arwen and escort her home, as it was growing too dangerous to travel now.

As they reached the Enchanted River, they saw the ferry moored on the opposite side of the bank. The elves that guarded this crossing were nowhere to be found, and Elrohir surmised that they had been called back to the caves. There was nothing they could do now but wait for the guard to return, as the River was too dangerous to attempt to cross any other way.

"Well," Rúmil said quietly, "it appears we must wait here for a time. Let us hope that the guards return soon, or we will be spending the night out here in the wood."

Elrohir nodded. "Aye. As much as I have missed sleeping out of doors, this would not be my first choice for a place to sleep."

They moved up into the trees, allowing their horses to graze on what grasses and shrubs that they could find. Rúmil held out his flagon of water and offered some to Elladan's horse. Elrohir set about picking some blackberries that grew some distance from the river, deeming them safe to eat as their roots were far from the tainted water. He returned, his tunic held out at the hem, and filled with ripe, plump blackberries. Rúmil spread a handkerchief out and Elrohir deposited his find there and took a seat beside his lover. As the two elves sat at the base of the tree snacking on the berries that Elrohir had found, they nervously watched the wood around them, always vigilant for any sign of orc or fell beast.

* * * *

Glorfindel stood at the entrance to the caves, his sharp eyes scanning the sky above them, his warrior's ear listening for any sign of the Nazgûl. He was so deep in concentration that he started a bit upon feeling his lover's hand upon his shoulder and he turned his gaze to that of his lover-king.

"They are gone," he said quietly. "I have heard no sign of them since midday. I do not believe they found the location of the caves, for surely they would have come closer if they had. They fear nothing, they would not see any use for stealth."

Thranduil slid his arm around the Elda's waist as he looked up at the sky. "The Úlairi have but one purpose. They seek the Ring, it is why they are here; they must hear it calling them. I do not believe that the Dark Lord feels my band of Elves are such a threat as to unleash his most powerful weapons upon us."

Glorfindel nodded. "Aye, you speak truly. Is it possible that after all these years that the One Ring could still be somewhere among us? The Dark Lord would believe that the Elves were searching for it, for we are the only ones who remember its existence."

"But to what purpose?" Thranduil queried. "All Elves know that it is most dangerous. None of us would be so foolish as to try to bend it to our own will."

"Perhaps he thinks we seek to hide it, but in his arrogance he could well imagine we seek to master it. It would not be the first time that Elves were corrupted by his dark gifts. How can one know what fell imaginings are turning within that black mind?" He turned to face his lover. "I must return to Imladris, melethen. I must bear this news back to my lord. He will know best how we must proceed."

Thranduil nodded and smiled sadly. "You speak wisely, seron vell. It may be that war will be upon us sooner than any of us had hoped."

The sound of footsteps upon the bridge caused them to turn and see Orophin and Haldir approaching.

"Is there any sign of them?" Thranduil asked the returning brothers.

"Nay, my lord. We searched the surrounding wood and saw no sign of them," Haldir answered. "I fear what may have become of my brother."

"Do not fear, Captain," Thranduil answered softly. "Legolas will find them. He knows this wood better than nearly anyone."

Haldir nodded then continued into the caves with Orophin in tow.

* * * *

"You smell nice," Elrohir said quietly as he pressed his nose into Rúmil's hair.

Rúmil laughed softly and answered, "You would say that even if I were covered in orch grime."

Elrohir chuckled and answered, "Aye, I would. There is no grime known to Elves, Men, or Wizards that is potent enough to diminish your scent, melethen."

Rúmil shook his head as he laughed quietly. He placed his hand upon his beloved's thigh as he leaned his head upon Elrohir's shoulder. "I look forward to returning home," he said quietly. "I have never been away from the Golden Wood so long. How do you and Elladan do it, seron vell? How do you live for years on end in the wild without so much as the comfort of a real bed?"

Elrohir leaned his head against Rúmil's and answered quietly, "I had not thought about it, really, at least not before I met you. Elladan and I have spent so much of our lives roaming the wilderness, riding with the Dúnedain, hunting yrch, one day, one year, just seemed to blend into the next. But then I met you, and suddenly time had meaning. I counted the days until we could be together; I still do count them. I have a new purpose now, melethen, one that has replaced the grim one of the past. My purpose now is to love you, and to fight to keep this world safe for you and your kin."

"There you two are…"

Elrohir and Rúmil looked up to see Legolas and Elladan standing side by side near the ferry.

"Well, this is just so like you, Elrohir," Elladan playfully chided. "Off stealing moments with your lover while half of Taur-nu-Fuin's warriors are searching the forest for you. I was beginning to wonder if you and your archer-lover had not become bait for the Úlairi."

"Impeccable timing as always, muindor," Elrohir teased in return as they rose to their feet and gathered their horses.

"Your brothers are half-mad with worry about you, Rúmil," Legolas said, as he watched the guard throw the rope over the river to Rúmil.

"Yes, I doubt I will hear the end of this soon," Rúmil answered with a smile as he tied the rope to a sturdy tree.

The guard then took the rope in hand and guided the ferry across to the other side, bringing Rúmil and his mount across before returning to collect Elrohir. As Elrohir stepped off the ferry, he grasped Elladan's shoulder.

"We were chased by a Úlairi, muindor," he said in all seriousness.

"We heard it," Elladan answered. "But it never reached the caves, it turned back when it reached the mountains."

"That is where we left the road," Rúmil replied.

"'Tis a good thing you did," Legolas chimed in. "Adar was preparing to evacuate the caves. I fear to know what might have happened if it found us." He smiled warmly at his friends. "Come, let us get you back to your brothers, Rúmil, before they drive my adar mad."

Rúmil mounted behind Elrohir, and Legolas mounted behind Elladan, and the four galloped back to the caves.

* * * *

Glorfindel clasped Haldir by the shoulder and nodded. "We depart in the morning, mellon. Make sure your troops are ready."

Haldir nodded in return, "Aye, my lord. We will be ready. It will be good to see our home again."

Orophin balanced himself on top of a barrel as he watched Glorfindel walk away. "I am anxious to return home as well, but I am a bit nervous."

Haldir turned and looked at his youngest brother. "Nervous? Why would going home make you nervous, Orophin?"

Orophin looked at the tips of his boots as he replied, "I left with my regiment and I am returning home with a lover. Do you not think this is strange?"

Haldir smiled as he moved to stand beside his brother. "Are you having second thoughts, muindor?"

"No!" Orophin protested. "It is just going to be strange explaining how all this came to be." He took a deep breath and sighed. "I just hope our Lord and Lady approve. It would be most difficult for me if they did not."

Haldir patted his brother on the shoulder. "They will approve, muindor. Once they see the love in your eyes when you look at him, they will approve."

"I want him to be happy, Haldir. He is leaving the only home he has ever known, leaving the only family he has, to be with me. I cannot let him down, I must make sure he is happy."

Haldir put his arm around Orophin's shoulder. "Do not fear, Orophin. Agladir will be happy, and he will have a larger family as well. He is part of us now, Rúmil and I will make sure he feels that."

"Thank you, Haldir," Orophin answered quietly.

"Come," Haldir replied. "We have much to do to be ready to depart in the morning. Watching the gate will not bring Rúmil home any sooner."

Orophin nodded and hopped off the barrel and followed his brother back into the caves.

To be continued…

Melethen = my love

Seron vell = dear lover

Muindor = brother (by blood)

Late Summer, 2951, Third Age, Taur-nu-Fuin, Caves of Thranduil

Agladir sat on his bed as he watched his sister pack his belongings, ensuring his tunics and leggings were folded just right. She sighed as she looked at his elegant robes and silky sleeping garments that still hung in his armoire.

"Are you sure you will not take those?" she asked. "So many lovely things to leave behind."

"I will have no need of them in the Golden Wood," Agladir answered. "My life there will prove to be far more simple, I think."

Eärwen turned and looked at her brother. "What will you do with yourself, Agladir? This is the only life you have ever known."

"I do not know, thêl," Agladir answered softly. "But my heart tells me that this is my path. Orophin is the one I am meant to be with."

Eärwen nodded. "Aye. I just wish he lived here instead of the Golden Wood. We have never been apart, Agladir."

"You could come with me, Eärwen," Agladir answered. "Orophin and his brothers would take you in as part of the family. His majesty would not object if you asked."

Eärwen shook her head. "Nay, Agladir. My home is here in Taur-nu-Fuin. As much as I love you, I do not wish to leave this place."

"I understand," Agladir answered. "I would not leave either, were it not that my lover lived in Lórien."

"This will be a good experience for you, Agladir. I have long worried that your heart would forever rest with the one who could not return your love. It pleases me that you have found your way to one who can and will love you as you love him."

"It was so hard asking for leave to go," he answered quietly. "As much as I wanted this, as much as I knew that it was right, it was still hard to say goodbye."

Eärwen sat beside her brother on his bed. "I think he will always care for you, Agladir."

"He cares for all his subjects, Eärwen," Agladir answered quietly.

"Not as he cares for you," she retorted. "You are special to him, my brother. He may not love you in the way you have wished he would, but it does not mean that he does not love you at all."

Agladir nodded. "I know of what you speak. I gave up on him loving me the way he loves Lord Glorfindel long ago, I sensed his heart was waiting for its true mate. Perhaps mine was as well, only I did not know it, for Orophin makes me feel like no one else ever has. My lord has always made me feel safe and cared for, but Orophin makes me feel whole. The way his face lights up when he sees me, the way he holds my hand in his like it were a precious gem, the way he makes me laugh even if he has to make a fool of himself to do it… I can see his love for me in his eyes, in his smile, and I can feel it in his touch. I cannot imagine not ever feeling that again. I understand now why elves fade sometimes when they lose a loved one. The pain of losing such a love would be unbearable."

Eärwen leaned her head upon her brother's shoulder. "You are lucky to have found such a love, Agladir."

Agladir wrapped his long arms around Eärwen's narrow waist. "You will find yours too, my beloved sister, of this I am sure."

"I will miss you, Agladir," Eärwen answered quietly.

"And I will miss you as well," Agladir answered, giving his sister's waist a squeeze.

* * * *

Glorfindel tossed his cloak on a chair as he entered Thranduil's chamber. He had searched the caves for his lover after the scare involving the Nazgûl, but found no trace of him. Things were beginning to return to normal, elves were going about their business, guards were returning to their posts. A watchful eye was still kept, and the guards scanned the woods and the sky for any hint of evil.

He crossed the room to the bed and sat heavily upon it, a deep sigh escaping his lips as his weight sank into the soft bedding. He flopped to his back, his arms spread wide, his eyes closed, as he listened to the sound of the water bubbling in the pond outside. His heart was heavy and swollen with grief when he thought of leaving the place where he had finally found peace. He was loath to leave his lover so soon after finding him, but he was bound by duty, and the future of Middle-earth could hang upon what he and the twins did next. He imagined Elladan was feeling much the same as he was in that moment, for his charge had also found his destined mate after being alone so long.

It was strange to think of how profoundly their lives had been changed in so short a time. What were a few months compared to the long ages of the earth? He had always thought of time as an inconstant and fickle entity, sometimes lagging, sometimes rushing forward. In the ages that he had walked the earth, he found that the most profound experiences often happened in the blink of an eye, those moments when time stood still as if the world stopped turning. One's life was defined in those brief stops in time, by the choices made that would forever change the course of one's destiny.

He thought of those moments now, of those instants in time that had made him who he was. He thought of that split second in which Aredhel had galloped away, he thought of how easily he could have caught her arm and safely pulled her from her horse and made her return home. He thought of that warm, late afternoon in Gondolin when he made the decision to go speak to Maeglin and all that followed after. He thought of that mere second in which he took the path toward the precipice to guard the rear of Tuor's procession. He thought again of the moment he pitched forward and drove his blade into the chest of his killer. He knew he could have escaped, he could have hewn his hair and escaped the beast's grasp; but instead he sealed his fate by sending both himself and the black beast into the abyss. He thought of that moment in which he asked his Lord Elrond for permission to travel to Mirkwood, and he thought of that blissful moment in time when he first reached for Thranduil's lips with his own.

So much had changed in so sort a time. He was no longer the wounded and haunted elf he had been for so long. He was now who he was meant to be all along: a warrior, a noble, and the beloved of his mate, Thranduil. What the future held for them, he did not know. Nevertheless, he did know one thing, he and Thranduil would face it together, and each would be the stronger for it.

He felt a shadow pass over his face, followed by the soft brush of his lover's hair across his cheek as the bed sank beneath him.

"There you are," he whispered, his eyes still closed, his lips curved into a contented smile.

"I am here, melethen," Thranduil answered softly. "I have a surprise for you."

"A surprise?" Glorfindel asked with a smile. "What sort of surprise?"

"You will have to rise from the bed and follow me to find out," Thranduil answered quietly.

Glorfindel wrapped his arms around his lover's chest as he slid the inside of his thigh against Thranduil's hip. "Can we not just stay in bed and you give it to me here?" he purred.

"Not this surprise, maethoren valthen. Come, follow me."

Glorfindel playfully groaned as Thranduil pulled him from the bed. As he rose to his feet he smiled and caressed his lover's beautiful face. "Melin chen," he whispered.

Thranduil's lips curved into a smile as he answered, "Melin chen, my Glorfindel." He took his lover by the hand and led him from the bedchamber out into the caves.

* * * *

Orophin huffed as he caught Agladir in his arms. His lover had run down the corridor toward him, leaping into his arms and showering him with kisses. A soft moan escaped him as Agladir held his face in both hands, drinking from his mouth as though he was dying of thirst. He held his lover tight, his hands clasping Agladir's backside as his lover wrapped his long legs around his waist.

The sound of Haldir clearing his throat caused the two to separate, and Orophin set Agladir down on the ground, wrapping his arm around his lover's waist. "My apologies, muindor," Orophin murmured. "We are still somewhat caught up in each other." He cast a sideways glance at Agladir and noted the blush upon his lover's cheek.

Haldir smirked and answered, "May you always be so caught up."

Agladir smiled shyly and bowed his head as Haldir passed them and made his way toward his own chamber. He then turned and grasped Orophin's tunic in his hands and shoved him against the wall. "I was so worried about you!" he exclaimed as he melted into his lover's embrace. "I do hope this gets easier as time goes on, or I fear my youthful beauty will fade with worry."

Orophin cradled Agladir's head against his shoulder. "I promise you, I will give you as little cause to worry as I can. Besides, there is nothing on Arda that could cause your beauty to fade."

"Flatterer," Agladir answered.

Orophin laughed softly. "It is flattery well deserved, melethen. Come; let us retire to my chambers. It will be days before we have any privacy come tomorrow."

Agladir smiled as he took his lover's hand. "Yes, let us take advantage of what time we have." He followed his lover down the corridor to Orophin's chamber.

* * * *

"That feels nice," Legolas murmured as Elladan's lips caressed his neck.

"If we did not have to be outside in a matter of moments, I would show you just how much nicer it can feel, ernil vain," Elladan answered.

"You are incorrigible and wicked, son of Elrond," Legolas answered with a soft laugh.

"You make me so, melethron," Elladan purred.

Legolas turned in his lover's arms and caressed his face. "I will never grow tired of hearing your voice, of feeling your touch, or of gazing into your beautiful eyes. The nights will be long and cold without you, melethen."

"We will be together again soon. I promise you that, meleth," Elladan answered before claiming his beloved's mouth with a deep kiss.

Legolas moaned as he yielded to Elladan's strong hands and claiming kiss. He arched into him, running his hands over his lover's back, and feeling Elladan's own roam his body.

"Melin chen, Legolas," Elladan whispered as he released his lover's mouth.

"Melin chen, my wonderful Elladan," Legolas answered with a husky whisper. "Come, my father expects us outside soon."

"Yes," Elladan answered with a smile. "This is one duty that I am very happy to perform."

* * * *

Rúmil placed a kiss atop Elrohir's head after securing the last braid with a jeweled clip. "You are lovely beyond words, as always, melethen," he said softly.

Elrohir turned and stood, taking Rúmil into his arms and holding him close. "And you are as radiant as the brightest star in the heavens, seron vell. You will be breathtaking in the moonlight."

Rúmil smiled and placed a soft kiss upon his lover's lips. "Never have I been so happy, Elrohir. To know that one day you and I will be bonded, that we will proclaim our love before our family, our friends, and the Valar fills my heart with joy."

Elrohir smiled. "I cannot wait to ask grandmother and grandfather for permission with you. They will be so happy."

Rúmil nodded and smiled. "Aye, long have the Lord and Lady of the Wood wished this union, though neither would say it aloud."

Elrohir nuzzled Rúmil's neck as he murmured, "Did we not have a prior engagement, I would ravish you right here and now."

"Ah, but we do, and it is one I am eager to keep," Rúmil answered.

"Yes, of course. I am being selfish," Elrohir murmured, his lips still leisurely exploring his beloved's neck.

Rúmil laughed softly as he playfully pushed Elrohir away. "Come, seron vell. The hour grows late."

Elrohir smiled and took his lover's hand. "Let us depart then."

They left their chambers hand in hand and made for the king's gardens.

To be continued…

Thêl = sister

Melethen = my love

Maethoren valthen = golden warrior

Melin chen = I love you

Muindor = brother (by blood)

Ernil vain = beautiful prince

Melethron = lover (male)

Meleth = love

Seron vell = dear lover

Late Summer, 2951, Third Age, Taur-nu-Fuin, Caves of Thranduil

Glorfindel grumbled as he followed his lover through the caverns toward the gardens.

"Where are we going?" he asked, as Thranduil tugged on his hand, urging him to keep up.

"For a little stroll in the gardens, melethen," Thranduil answered.

"A stroll? Are you saying that you would rather take a walk than make love to me on this, our last night together for the Valar know how long?"

"Trust me, melethen," Thranduil answered. "It will be a good walk."

Glorfindel sighed in resignation as he followed his beloved through the doorway and out into the gardens. What he saw when stepping outside the caves took his breath away. The soft, green grass sparkled with late summer dew. The trees that enclosed the small garden were decorated with lanterns and long strips of shimmering fabric. Above them, the night sky twinkled with glittering stars against a canopy of deep, velvet, midnight blue and Ithil bathed the small meadow in silver light. Not a cloud was in the sky and a soft, gentle breeze set the fabric adorning the trees to swaying slowly. As his eyes took in the vision before him, he saw Elladan and Elrohir, dressed in robes of deep blue, their hair adorned with jeweled clips; beside them, stood Legolas and Rúmil. Rúmil was dressed in a pale silver robe, his hair was also braided and held back with jeweled clips. Legolas was dressed in his finest ceremonial robes and his head was adorned with a mithril circlet matching his father's.

The Elda turned and looked at his lover with wide eyes, just then noticing that Thranduil also wore ceremonial robes and his circlet upon his head. A bewitching smile curved his lover's lips, and he gasped as the realization of why he was there came to him.

Thranduil took Glorfindel's hands in his own. "My greatest wish is to declare my love for you in front of my son and those you love most dearly. I wish to bond myself to you in the presence of those we love and the Valar. Will you also proclaim your love for me before our friends and in the presence of the Valar? Will you bond yourself to me, Glorfindel?"

Tears welled in his eyes and he feared he had no voice with which to answer his beloved. He nodded as a smile curved his lips and he answered with a whisper, "Yes…"

Thranduil smiled as he drew his beloved to stand next to their witnesses. He turned to Legolas who produced a gold band and handed it to him. He then turned back to Glorfindel and began to speak.

"I, Thranduil Oropherion, Lord and King of Taur-e-Ndaedelos, declare my fealty and my love for you, Glorfindel, in the presence of my son and of our friends, of the most mighty Valar, and of Eru himself. I pledge to love you, to cherish you, and to respect you always both through love and through honor. I give myself to you, in body and in spirit, and I lend my heart into your keeping until the ending of the world."

Thranduil slipped the ring upon Glorfindel's left hand, then pressed his lips to it. Glorfindel stared into his lover's eyes as he felt Elrohir press a ring into his own hand. He looked down at it then looked back up into his beloved's eyes.

"I, Glorfindel, Lord of the House of the Golden Flower and Noble Elf of Imladris, declare my devotion and love for you, Thranduil Oropherion, in the presence of my dear friends, of the most mighty Valar, and of Eru himself. I pledge to love you, to cherish you, and to respect you always with love and honor. I give myself to you, in body and spirit, and I lend my heart into your keeping until the ending of the world."

Glorfindel slipped the ring upon Thranduil's finger and sealed his promise with a kiss upon the ring. The two lovers held hands and gazed into each other's eyes for a moment as a soft breeze ruffled the treetops.

Legolas smiled and stepped forward, placing his hands upon the lovers' hands. "Manwë gives his blessing. May you go forward in this life and the next, in love and joy. Eru bless this union."

Elladan, Elrohir, and Rúmil answered, "Eru bless this union."

Legolas smiled as he looked at the lovers. "You are married," he said with a broad smile.

Glorfindel gathered Thranduil into his arms and held him tight, no longer able to fight the tears that spilled from his eyes. Thranduil cradled his lover's cheek next to his own as he held his beloved tight.

"Melin le, rawen," he said quietly.

"Melin le, seron vell," Glorfindel answered with a soft whisper.

They stood, wrapped in one another's arms, bathed in moonlight upon a small hill deep in Mirkwood. Their love was witnessed by those they held most dear, and by the Valar themselves.

Elladan, Elrohir, Rúmil, and Legolas quietly stole from the garden, leaving the lovers to bask in the joy of their union.

* * * *

The two couples walked back to their respective quarters arm in arm. Legolas' head rested upon Elladan's shoulder as his lover held him round the waist. Elrohir pressed his lips to the side of Rúmil's head as his lover's hand caressed the small of his back. They smiled and nodded to one another as they reached Elrohir's room, and Elladan drew his prince away as Elrohir and Rúmil retired for the night.

Upon reaching Legolas' bedchamber, Elladan reached for his lover's hand and turned Legolas to face him. He reached up and brushed a single tear from his beloved's cheek.

"Tears of happiness, I hope," he said softly.

Legolas smiled and nodded. "Aye. I am so happy for my father and for Glorfindel. They love one another so deeply, so completely, and now their bond is complete with their vows."

Elladan stepped forward and took Legolas in his arms. "It is a bond Glorfindel will never break," he answered softly.

"Nor will my father," Legolas whispered. "I know that this does not change their love, nor does it strengthen it, really. But there is something so special about bonding yourself to another, to know with that kind of certainty that you have found the one you love."

"I have that certainty with you, Legolas," Elladan whispered against the curve of Legolas' ear.

Legolas closed his eyes as he ran his hands into Elladan's thick, sable hair. "Do you?" he questioned softly.

"Aye, meleth, I do," Elladan answered. He cradled Legolas' head in one hand as his other ran down the long curve of his lover's back, his fingers splayed wide as he clasped his prince's buttocks. Elladan heard a deep moan reverberate in Legolas' chest, as the prince arched against him, sliding one leg up to his hip. He slowly and skillfully worked Legolas' ear, feeling the heat and passion build between them.

"You turn my blood into liquid fire," Legolas breathed into Elladan's ear. "One touch from you and I am weak."

Elladan nibbled the curve of his beloved's ear as he answered, "I am mad for you, Legolas. I daydream about making love to you, I hear your voice in my mind, feel your touch in my imagination. You have brought me back to life, Legolas. I have never loved or wanted another more."

"Make love to me, Elladan," Legolas whispered. "Leave me breathless and spent."

Elladan lifted Legolas in his arms and carried his beautiful lover to the bed. He began undressing his prince slowly, but found he could no longer contain the passion that had built within him. He could feel his arousal straining against the silk of his loincloth, reaching for its mate. Legolas removed his clothing with equal fervor, both of them nearly tearing the heavy garments from each other's bodies.

He shoved Legolas onto the bed and mounted it above him, straddling his beautiful lover and staring down into his midnight blue eyes. Legolas was spread out beneath him, his flaxen hair fanned out across the dark bedding, his flawless ivory skin glowing in the moonlight that filtered through the window. The Sinda reached for him, his long archer's fingers grasping his waist and pulling him closer.

Legolas gazed up at his beloved, at his lightly tanned skin and the rich sable hair that crowned his head and covered his chest, stomach, arms, and legs. His eyes roamed over his lover's lean yet powerful body, at the muscles sculpted by years of fighting, at the long and elegant curve of his hip and thigh, then finally at the proud length that stood against his stomach. He caressed it with his fingertips, watching Elladan's head fall back as his eyes fluttered closed, listening as a deep staccato sigh escaped his full, ripe lips. He ran his thumb over the swollen and weeping tip as the fingers of his other hand kneaded his lover's buttocks, encouraging him to move closer to his hungry mouth.

"I want to taste you, melethron," Legolas whispered.

Elladan, nearly dizzy with need, complied, dropping to his hands and knees and positioning his engorged arousal over his prince's mouth. He slowly lowered himself, allowing Legolas to guide him. As his lover's hot mouth engulfed him, he groaned aloud, thrusting forward, needing to be swallowed by the warm, wet sensation. Legolas consumed him eagerly. The prince's fingers kneaded his buttocks, gripping and pulling as he thrust forward with as much restraint as he could manage. His lover's fingertips teased the cleft between his buttocks and he spread his legs wider, offering his beloved better access. His head hung down between his straining arms, his long back arched and bowed as he slid in and out of Legolas' wet embrace. A strangled cry escaped his lips as Legolas simultaneously breached his body with two fingers and mercilessly squeezed the base of his arousal. Nearly incoherent ramblings escaped his lips as he felt his body coiling in on itself, an explosion of liquid fire racing through his body, starting deep within his core and roaring outward. Legolas worked his pleasure center without pause, finding his mark over and over, sending him on a relentless upward spiral of passion. He nearly screamed his release as he slammed forward, his body bowed and head thrown back in abandon. Legolas milked and swallowed every last drop of his essence, gently licking him clean when he had no more to give.

Elladan flopped to his back heavily upon the bed, his body trembling with the aftershocks of his release. He smiled as he felt the soft caress of his beloved's hair on his skin, eagerly opening his mouth and reaching for Legolas as the prince settled between his legs. They kissed leisurely, tasting deeply of one another as Legolas slowly undulated against him. He felt the press of his lover's swollen arousal against his hip and he marveled at Legolas' self-restraint.

"Sweet Elbereth," Elladan whispered as Legolas released his mouth. "How do you do that? You have reduced me to a boneless puddle…"

Legolas chuckled, his warm breath fanning Elladan's lips. "You are immensely inspiring, seron vell."

Elladan rolled over his lover and sat up, straddling him and slowly rocking against him. "Am I now?" he asked teasingly. "Perhaps you are in need of some more inspiration?"

Legolas laughed huskily as he arched beneath his beloved. "I do believe you are correct in that assumption," he answered with a playful growl.

Elladan twisted and leaned backward as far as he could, his fingers just reaching the drawer of the bedside table. He fumbled inside, feeling Legolas' long fingers gripping his hips and the prince's lithe body arching and undulating beneath him. His fingers found what they were searching for, latching onto a cool crystal phial.

He removed the stopper as he sat up and gazed back down upon his beloved. Legolas' lips were swollen and pink, his face flushed with desire. Elladan poured some of the warm, almond oil into the palm of his hand then slowly worked it into Legolas' swollen length. The prince clenched his jaw and hissed as Elladan slowly squeezed and stroked him, and a smile curved Elladan's lips as he watched his lover's body arch in anticipation. He took Legolas' hand and rubbed the oil into his fingers then bent forward, his lips hovering over the prince's.

"Prepare me, melethen," he whispered against his lover's mouth. He then claimed it in a searing kiss.

Legolas groaned into the kiss as his fingers once again found their way to his lover's entrance. He easily slid two inside, twisting and scissoring, gently spreading the oil and loosening his lover's passage. He cried out into their kiss as Elladan's fingers pinched his pebbled nipples, teasing them and soothing them at the same time. Elladan drew away from his mouth, gripping his lower lip between his teeth and giving it a tug as he pulled away.

"I am ready, Legolas, take me," Elladan growled. He rose on his knees and slowly lowered himself, allowing Legolas to guide him until he was impaled upon his lover's arousal.

Legolas groaned as he was sheathed inside his lover. Without pause, Elladan began rising and falling slowly, withdrawing and taking him in again. His hands roamed without hesitation over Elladan's body, alternately caressing his thighs, abdomen, chest and arms. His own release was already building, his desire having been brought to a fevered pitch by his lover's skillful touch. He threaded his fingers in the soft hair that grew upon Elladan's torso, clutching at the strong muscles and gently tugging at the hair that covered his lover's perfect chest.

Elladan increased the pace, taking Legolas deeper inside him each time as he leaned back against the prince's bent legs. He tossed his head back, his long hair falling over his lover's legs, his body bowed and arched as he rode his prince's arousal to their mutual completion. A plaintive whimper escaped him as Legolas' fingers once again wrapped around his newly awakened arousal and the prince's length brushed its mark, sending waves of nearly unbearable pleasure coursing through his body. He barely registered the tears that began to trickle from his eyes as he felt the explosion of his release begin again, and he cried out as his body tightened and his seed spilled over Legolas' hand.

Elladan's body tightened around him and Legolas growled as he thrust his hips upward, burying himself to the root as he spilled himself inside his beloved's body. He blindly reached up and grasped Elladan's shoulders, pulling his lover down and into his arms as he trembled and his length twitched inside Elladan's body. He held him tight as he whispered, "Melin le, Elladan…"

Elladan moaned as he nuzzled Legolas' neck, whispering in return, "Melin le, Legolas Thranduilion."

The two lovers lay in one another's arms for long moments before slowly rising from the bed. Elladan drew a bath as Legolas turned down the bed; they then prepared to drift into reverie in one another's arms.

To be continued…

Melethen = my love

Melin le = I love thee

Rawen = my lion

Seron vell = dear lover

Meleth = love

Melethron = my lover

Late Summer, 2951, Third Age, Taur-nu-Fuin, Caves of Thranduil

Agladir sat at the head of the bed, his silken robe wrapped loosely around him as he watched Orophin check his pack for what had to be the twentieth time that night. He smiled as he watched his lover check off the mental list of all that they would need to carry on their long journey to Lórien. His smile faded a bit when he realized that this was the last night he would spend sleeping in these caves that had been his home for almost all his life.

He had spent the afternoon saying goodbye to all his friends, saving his sister for last. He was filled with mixed emotions. He was both excited and saddened by his impending departure, and he was trying hard to hide his sadness from his lover.

"Meleth?"

Orophin's soft voice broke his reverie, and he realized his melancholy had been discovered. He smiled sheepishly as Orophin moved to sit beside him on the bed.

"What is the matter, Agladir?" Orophin asked softly. "You look so…" He stopped in mid sentence as he sighed and looked at the bed. "I am truly a fool," he said quietly.

Agladir leaned forward and placed his hand upon Orophin's thigh. "Do not say such things," he said softly.

"I have been so wrapped up in preparations to leave and excitement upon returning home that I have not been paying attention to the fact that you are leaving your own. I cannot imagine what you are feeling right now; of course you would be sad."

A wicked grin began to cross his lips and he tilted Agladir's chin up so that their gazes met.

"I know just the thing that will bring a smile to those lovely lips," Orophin said huskily.

Agladir raised one silver eyebrow. "Oh really?" he questioned teasingly.

Orophin stood and made his way to the foot of the bed where he began slowly unbuttoning his tunic. Agladir smiled and wriggled upon the bed, making himself comfortable as he watched his lover undress. To his surprise, Orophin began dancing as he took his clothes off, swaying slowly and sensuously, teasing him with glimpses of skin as he slid his tunic off one shoulder then pulled it back, only to slide it down teasingly again. His lover cast alluring glances over his shoulder, a sensual and wolfish smile curving his mouth. Agladir bit his lower lip as he smiled, unsure whether to laugh or just grab the elf and ravish him. He squeaked with laughter as Orophin's tunic came sailing through the air, landing on his head as he caught it. He quickly pulled it away, as it was obscuring his view, and tossed it upon a chair near the bed.

Orophin continued to dance, his lean muscles rippling under his ivory skin, his unbound, silver hair swaying gently around his face. Agladir squirmed again as his lover playfully shook his backside, and he reached out like an elfling reaching for his favorite toy. Orophin shook his head, wagging his finger back and forth, as he toyed with the tie to his leggings.

"Oh, come now! Please?" Agladir put on his best pleading expression as Orophin turned to face him and pulled the string to his leggings until it popped loose. "Yes!" he exclaimed as he bounced upon the bed. "Take them off, Orophin… show me what you have, melethron…" he purred playfully.

Orophin bit back a smile, and began slowly and sensuously sliding his leggings past his hips. Agladir sat forward and flopped upon the bed, lying on his stomach and reaching for his lover as Orophin danced just out of reach. Agladir rolled to his back, catching the leggings as they fell from the air, clasping them to his face as he laughed and wiggled upon the bed. He quickly rolled back over as Orophin began playing with the tie to his loincloth.

Agladir's laugh turned into a feral growl as the strings popped free and the thin cloth fell away, revealing his lover's perfect body completely. He quickly sat up and reached for Orophin, pulling his lover onto the bed and covering him with his own lithe body.

Orophin barked, caught off guard by Agladir's strength and huffed as his lover pounced on him. He wrapped his arms and legs around Agladir's lean form, the soft silk of his lover's robe creating a maddening tickling sensation against his bare skin.

Agladir held Orophin's face in his hands. "You are mine, Orophin. Do you hear that? Mine and mine alone," he growled.

"Yes," Orophin answered. "I would have it no other way, my treasure. I love you."

Agladir caressed his lover's face as his lips hovered over Orophin's mouth. "And I love you, Orophin, so very much."

Agladir claimed his lover's mouth with a deep kiss, the pain of leaving his home temporarily forgotten and washed away by Orophin's love.

* * * *

Elrohir held Rúmil in his arms, enjoying the feel of his lover's warm skin against his own, reveling in the warmth that was his lover's body. Rúmil sighed and arched against him, and Elrohir rolled his hips forward with agonizing slowness. A deep, heartbreaking moan escaped Rúmil's lips, floating into Elrohir's ears like blessed music. His hands roamed the archer's bare chest, fingers exploring the hills and valleys that made up Rúmil's sculpted and lean torso. He felt his beloved's warm breath against his ear as Rúmil turned his head to tease the curve with his tongue.

Each undulation, each breathless sigh and needful moan, pushed him closer to the abyss. There was nothing that was more beautiful, more comforting, more inflaming than being inside his lover's body. Rúmil fit him like a handmade glove; they were two bodies meant for one another, two hearts bound by love. He slowly withdrew, paused, then slowly entered him again. Rúmil's body was as tight as a bowstring, arched and taut, breathtaking in its perfection. They could make love like this for hours, their skin glistening with sweat, gathering all the patience and self-control they could muster, determined to draw out this most blessed act for as long as they possibly could.

It was Rúmil that finally broke. "Please, Elrohir," he whispered. "I need more… I need…"

Elrohir grasped Rúmil's jaw and turned his head so that their lips met. "Yes, melethen," he whispered. "I need it too…" With those words, he increased his pace, sliding in and out of his lover's velvet embrace with increased vigor.

Rúmil planted his feet against the bed, lifting up and rocking back to meet Elrohir's thrusts. He cried out as Elrohir buried himself inside him and lifted him, moving him to his hands and knees. He spread his knees wide as Elrohir began to ride him with abandon, his hips aching in his lover's hands, his body rocking with the force of Elrohir's thrusts. As his beloved's fingers closed around his arousal, he could hold off no more, and with three quick pumps of Elrohir's hand, he groaned as he spilled himself upon the bed.

Rúmil's tightening body sent Elrohir over the edge, and he growled as he buried himself deep inside his lover, spilling his essence within. He collapsed upon Rúmil's back, his body trembling, his heart racing. His hands shook as they reached up and caressed Rúmil's arms, his fingers sliding through the sweat that covered them.

Rúmil slowly lowered himself and Elrohir to the bed. His chest rose and fell as he breathed deeply trying to regain his heart's normal rhythm. After long moments passed, he heard Elrohir whisper, "We need a bath."

A soft laugh escaped him and he nodded. "Aye, we do indeed."

"Melin le, Rúmil," Elrohir whispered.

"Melin le, Elrohir," Rúmil replied.

They slowly rose from the bed, retrieved their bathing robes, and silently made their way toward the baths.

* * * *

Thranduil and Glorfindel sat upon the bed facing one another; each sat back upon their heels, gazing into the other's eyes. Their hands gently roamed one another's bodies, bestowing soft caresses and lingering touches.

Glorfindel closed his eyes and pressed his face into Thranduil's hand as the king reached up and caressed his cheek. His lips parted and he sighed as his beloved's thumb brushed across them.

"So beautiful," Thranduil said softly. "My beautiful, brave, wise, Glorfindel."

Thranduil inhaled sharply as Glorfindel's fingers caressed his newly acquired scar, and shivers ran the length of his spine, causing gooseflesh to rise on his arms and legs. He dropped his head back and felt his mate move closer, until Glorfindel was on his knees, straddling him. He enfolded him in his arms, his hands roaming over the warrior's back, as he pressed his face into Glorfindel's chest. He absently noted that he was trembling as Glorfindel's strong hands came to rest in his hair. The Elda's fingers entwined in it, cradling his head and guiding his mouth to his chest. He eagerly took a hardened nub into his mouth, suckling it as a babe suckles its mother's breast. Deep, reverberating moans echoed up from the Elda's chest, and Thranduil could feel his mate's arousal began to harden against his stomach.

It was reminiscent of his first sexual encounter. He was suddenly nervous; he felt so vulnerable and young. He released Glorfindel's chest and looked at it, the nipple was inflamed and swollen with blood and he lathed it with his tongue before moving to its twin. Glorfindel's hands were clutching at him now, drawing him closer, and he could feel the urgency building in his mate's body. He sat back and looked up at his beloved, his chin resting against the Elda's chest as he gazed into his eyes.

"What would you have of me, melethen?" he asked in a husky whisper.

Glorfindel gazed down at the elf that held his heart, at the one who had pulled him from the abyss and returned him to life. Thranduil's eyes were a deep, midnight blue, his lips were swollen and pink and wet, his skin was flushed with passion, and his glowing, flaxen hair spilled wildly around his shoulders. He realized that he had never seen his beloved look so sensual or so vulnerable, yet there was no denying the powerful magnetism that the king possessed. He imagined what Thranduil had been like when he was young and naïve; he imagined how utterly irresistible the Sinda must have been.

"I would have you breathless and spent, and blissfully happy, melethen," he answered softly.

Thranduil smiled as he gazed up at his lover. He was certain that prior to coming to him, Glorfindel was most often the dominant one in love making, as he was himself in his own encounters. He did not want their relationship to be that way; he did not want one of them to have lordship over the other. He knew Glorfindel would never ask him to submit, so instead, he did so freely.

Thranduil's powers of seduction were formidable, though he rarely found need to use them. However, from time to time, he would call upon them. A sensual smile slowly curved his lips and he closed his eyes. When he opened them again, he felt his mate's body respond in the only way it could.

Glorfindel felt his abdomen tighten and his arousal swell when Thranduil blinked slowly. It was as if his mate had been transformed. He could not prevent the gasp that escaped him when he looked into those dark eyes that seemed to glow. He absently thought to himself that the rumors were indeed true, that his mate did possess this legendary magic, and he was just now witnessing it for himself. As he brushed his thumb over Thranduil's lips, the king drew it into his mouth, curling his tongue around it. Another sound, akin to a whimper, escaped him, and he felt his mate's strong hands against his chest as he was being pushed back to the bed.

Thranduil had an amazing mouth, talented in ways he could never have imagined. A mere kiss from his mate could bring him to his knees, and what the king was doing now was surely going to drive him mad.

Thranduil kissed and licked his way up Glorfindel's body as the Elda arched and moaned beneath him. Long, slow licks of his tongue were punctuated by teeth nipping the warm, taut flesh of his beloved's abdomen. He drew his tongue along the scar that mirrored his own, working his way from stomach to chest, pausing to delve into the pit of the Elda's arm with his mouth. His hand ran the length of Glorfindel's arm, fingers alternately clutching and caressing, gliding over the curve of his bicep. He traveled from the Elda's shoulder to his neck, his teeth grazing his beloved's jugular vein. He hovered over Glorfindel's mouth, holding the Elda's eyes with his own as he teased his mate's mouth with his tongue.

"Why have you not shown me this before?" Glorfindel breathed.

"Because I wanted you to love me freely, of your own accord," Thranduil answered with a husky whisper.

"I do," Glorfindel answered.

"And now you see that the rumors are true."

"Now I see what has bubbled beneath the surface these many months. All that was before was but a mere taste of what you possess."

"Do you like this?" Thranduil asked huskily.

"Yes, oh yes," Glorfindel answered breathlessly. He groaned anew as Thranduil undulated against him, their lengths rolling and brushing against one another.

"If you could do anything you wanted, have anything you wanted in this moment, what would it be?" Thranduil purred.

"I would have you," Glorfindel answered. "I would bury myself inside you, I would do to you what you do to me now…"

"Then have me, rawen," Thranduil whispered hoarsely. "Do to me what you have longed to do, use me as you will."

"I will use you," Glorfindel replied. "And I will love you, cherish you, and need you always…"

He rolled over his beloved, pinning Thranduil to the bed. He held the king's arms over his head as he trapped the Sinda beneath him with his weight. He consumed Thranduil's mouth, plundering its depths and drinking deeply of him. He was possessed by the need to taste every inch of his skin, to hear him moan and cry out his name, to make his mate feel as wanted and desired as he felt himself.

When Thranduil opened his eyes, they looked different. Yet, they were still alluring beyond measure. Gone was the predatory heat; love, desire, and tantalizing vulnerability replaced it. His mate yielded to him completely, there was no hesitation, and he did not withhold anything. Glorfindel sensed that Thranduil would give him everything he wanted and take everything he could give.

Thranduil's deep moans reverberated in his ears as he moved to his mate's chest, fondling the rings that pierced his nipples with his tongue. He could feel Thranduil's muscles rippling beneath his skin as his body undulated beneath his touch. As he worked his way lower, the Sinda's stomach flinched away and he chased it, delving into his navel with his tongue, causing his lover to hiss through his clenched jaw. His mouth danced around the king's arousal, instead teasing the juncture of hip and thigh. He nuzzled the downy soft hair that grew at the base of his beloved's engorged length, breathing deeply of his woodsy and musky scent. With his fingers splayed wide, he pushed Thranduil's thighs apart, baring his mate's most intimate places to his hungry eyes.

He wanted to bury himself in Thranduil's body, to ride him hard until they both cried out in mindless ecstasy. To have one so strong, so powerful, so formidable, be so yielding and so soft was an irresistible temptation. He pressed his mouth between the Sinda's legs, his tongue lapping at the soft pouch of skin that was nestled beneath his erect length and causing his mate to moan as he spread his legs wider. He had only taken Thranduil a few times since they became lovers; he most often preferred to allow his lover to fill him, to allow Thranduil to take the more dominant role. In those instances in which he had taken his lover, he had done so with care, and their lovemaking had been gentle and slow. That was not what he wanted now, he wanted to feel the power of physically possessing this wondrous elf who had given him his heart, and this vulnerability that his mate showed him now was addicting.

He bestowed a few slow and gentle licks to Thranduil's swollen length, causing his lover to nearly whimper with need. He then reached across the bed, retrieved a phial of oil to ease Thranduil's passage, and quickly prepared himself and his beloved. He leaned over Thranduil as he gathered his mate's strong thighs in his arms. Thranduil's hands grasped the iron headboard, his muscles taut with anticipation, his breath coming heavy with need. His beloved was lost to desire, and it was, perhaps, the most beautiful sight he had ever seen. He placed the tip of his arousal at Thranduil's entrance and positioned his mouth over his beloved's own.

"Are you ready for me, melethen?" he whispered hoarsely.

Thranduil nodded and uttered a breathless, "Yes…"

Glorfindel pushed forward, sheathing himself in one fluid stroke inside his mate's tight passage. He groaned aloud as he was enveloped in warm, velvet luxury and his beloved's cries echoed in his ears. He moved within him, sliding in and out, rapidly increasing the pace, as his own body seemed to take control. Harder and faster he thrust, his muscles trembling, his body straining to hold on, staving off that final fall that would both bury him and wash him away. Thranduil hooked his ankles around his lower back, spreading his legs and sending him deeper inside him. Glorfindel dropped his head, burying his face in his mate's neck as he rode Thranduil's powerful body, both of them careening toward the edge, racing headlong into the fall. He felt Thranduil's fingers digging into his back, his fingernails marking his skin, and he sank his teeth into the Sinda's neck as Thranduil tangled his fingers in his hair.

When his release came, he cried out against the warm, sweat-slicked flesh of Thranduil's throat. His body coiled in on itself, tightening as his quivering length spilled his essence deep inside his beloved's body. He thought it would never end as he whimpered softly into his king's flaxen mane, and his body trembled beyond his control. Soon, he was resting in his love's arms, feeling his strong hands caressing his back and hair, hearing his deep voice whisper words of undying love into his ear. He absently realized that tears had fallen from his eyes and he slowly sat up to gaze into his love's face. A broad smile curved those pink lips he had come to realize he could not live without. Eyes of lapis blue shined back at him, full of love and admiration.

"I love you, rawen," Thranduil said softly. "I had not known what love truly was until you found me."

Glorfindel caressed his face and nuzzled Thranduil's lips with his own. "We found each other," he whispered. "And I am the better for it."

He pressed a deep kiss to his beloved's lips, whispering, "I love you," before he pulled away.

Thranduil sighed and arched beneath Glorfindel as the Elda worshipped his body with his mouth. Slow, lingering kisses, soft strokes of his tongue punctuated by gentle nips of his mate's teeth covered his chest and abdomen. Finally, his long ignored arousal was engulfed by the Elda's mouth and he groaned aloud as his length was skillfully worked, sending him over the edge and bringing him completion as he cried out his beloved's name. He trembled as Glorfindel swallowed every drop of his essence, then licked him clean before working his way back up to his mouth. A soft, lingering kiss caused him to moan softly and wrap his trembling arms around the Elda, and they drifted into reverie, curled in each other's arms.

To be continued…

Meleth = love

Melethron = lover (male)

Melethen = my love

Melin le = I love thee

Rawen = my lion

Late Summer, 2951, Third Age, Taur-nu-Fuin, Caves of Thranduil

Glorfindel lay across Thranduil's back, softly caressing his mate's arms as the pre-dawn sky slowly began to brighten with Anor's light. All was still and quiet in the caves of Thranduil; the staff had not yet begun their work for the day. Glorfindel enjoyed the sound of his mate's slow, soft, rhythmic breathing, and the feel of his silken, warm skin. The thought that he would not be waking like that every morning weighed heavy upon his heart. He did not know what the future would bring, nor did he know how long he and his newfound mate would be apart, and it troubled him greatly.

He and his companions would be departing the caves as soon as Anor provided enough light to travel by. Summer was slowly waning, the days were growing shorter, and autumn's chill would soon be upon them. He and the twins needed to make for Imladris quickly, before the mountain passes were too difficult to traverse. They needed to spread the news of the Nazgûl's appearance in Dol Guldur to their allies as quickly as possible. Sauron's strength had grown greater than anyone suspected; the sighting of the Nazgûl was proof of it. Time was growing short indeed; he sensed the time of the Elves was ending sooner than he had believed it would.

A deep breath from his beloved returned him from his thoughts, and he dropped a soft kiss upon Thranduil's shoulder. Thranduil moaned sleepily, slowly rolling over underneath Glorfindel as he blinked to clear his eyes of reverie.

The king reached up and caressed his mate's face, fingers tracing Glorfindel's high cheekbones and strong jaw.

"Good morning, rawen," he said sleepily.

"By Elbereth, how I love to watch you wake," Glorfindel said softly. "Each time is like the dawning of a new day." The Elda caressed his king's face as he continued. "First your body comes alive with breath, then your eyelids flutter and your lips slowly curve into a smile. When your eyes clear of reverie, they shine like the finest sapphires in all of Arda. Never before have I seen a sight of such pure beauty and wonder."

Thranduil cupped Glorfindel's ears and drew the Elda's mouth down to meet his own. He kissed him slowly, gently, taking time to savor each delicious sigh and breathtaking moan.

As they broke their kiss, Thranduil answered, "I will miss this. I will miss falling asleep with you in my arms. I will miss waking beside you, your voice being the last and first thing to grace my ears each day. I will miss making love to you, hearing you moan and sigh, feeling your flesh against my own. I will miss your boisterous laugh and your bawdy jokes and the sight of your warrior's form striding my halls. As much as I will miss all these things, I think I will perhaps miss the comfort of your mere presence the most, melethen. Just seeing you across the table, knowing you are coming through my bedchamber door each night… Yes, that is what I will miss, above all other things."

"I am sorry that I must leave you, melethen. Gods that there were another way. But…"

Thranduil placed his fingers upon Glorfindel's lips and silenced him. "Ssshh… no more words of regret, rawen. We each have our duty to do upon this earth; we would not be who we are if we were to shun it. That is one of the things I first loved about you, Glorfindel, your sense of duty and honor."

Glorfindel pressed his forehead against Thranduil's and answered softly, "You make me so happy, melethen. You have helped me find myself again."

The two warriors lay in one another's arms, softly talking and touching, holding one another, determined not to waste one moment they had together before Glorfindel had to leave.

* * * *

Elladan did not sleep that night. Instead, he lay awake, holding his beloved prince in his arms and wondering what the future would bring. He caressed Legolas' back and hair, threading his fingers through spun sunlight, caressing living silk. So much had changed in so little time. He had nearly resolved himself to giving up on love, to accepting that he would never have what Elrohir had, what his grandparents had, or what his father had once had. Then, on a trip he did not even want to take, in a place he dreaded visiting, he had found the love of his life.

He knew that his request to Thranduil might not be accepted warmly. The king had been very welcoming to both him and Elrohir, and he seemed to approve of he and Legolas' relationship. However, to ask permission to bond after only two months time was highly unusual. Elves' courtships were not hasty normally; typically, courtship would go on for years before even asking to bond. Elrohir and Rúmil had been in love for many years before Elrohir asked Rúmil to bond. Nevertheless, after nearly losing Legolas to the poisoned orc arrow, Elladan had come to the realization that his affection for the prince ran far deeper than anyone imagined. He and Legolas had talked around bonding, but neither had come out and directly asked the other what their intentions were for their relationship. As he lay awake that night, Elladan resolved to ask Legolas to bond with him, and if the prince agreed, he would go straight away and ask Thranduil's permission to begin the engagement period.

A quiet sigh caused him to look down at the top of Legolas' head, and he saw his lover begin to stir as he woke. Legolas stretched his long, cat-like limbs, pressing Elladan down into the bed as he did so. Elladan responded by kneading the lean muscles in the prince's back and dropping kisses to the crown of his head.

Legolas rose on his elbows and peered blearily down into Elladan's large, liquid gray eyes. He smiled sleepily and caressed his lover's face, bestowing soft kisses to ripe, full lips that he had come to need as much as air to breathe.

"Is it morning, seron vell?" Legolas whispered in between kisses.

"Not quite yet, ernilen," Elladan answered softly.

"Have you been awake all night?" Legolas asked, as he continued his exploration of Elladan's mouth, chin, and jaw with his lips.

Elladan smiled and his eyes fluttered closed as he lifted his chin, giving Legolas better access to the sensitive underside of his jaw line. "Yes, meleth, I have," he answered softly.

"Then you cannot leave today. You will be too weary to ride so far, and I cannot have my lover falling off his horse because he could not stay awake."

Elladan chuckled and gave his lover a squeeze, bestowing a kiss to his beloved's ear. A gentle sigh escaped him and he took a deep breath, gathering his courage to ask the fateful question.

"Legolas?"

"Yes, melethen?"

"I have something to ask you…"

"You may ask me anything, Elladan."

"You love me, yes?" Elladan asked apprehensively.

Legolas sat up and looked down into Elladan's eyes. "Of course I do, you know I do…"

Elladan smiled nervously and continued, "Is this love of ours one that would last through the ages? Can you imagine loving me, and only me, for the rest of time?"

Legolas' eyes widened and he felt his heart hammering in his chest. "I will never, could never feel about anyone the way I feel about you, Elladan." He caressed his lover's face. "You are my love; my heart belongs to you."

Elladan swallowed and took a deep breath. "Legolas? Will you…" he closed his eyes and gathered his strength, then began again. "Will you bond with me?"

Legolas stared disbelieving into Elladan's eyes. He could not find his voice to answer, he could barely breathe. Just a few short months ago, he had questioned whether he would ever have a mate. Now he was lying in the arms of one he loved more than he could have imagined possible, and that elf had just asked him to share his life and his heart with him, forever. He opened his mouth to answer and a smile curved his lips. Instead of words, a soft laugh escaped him.

Elladan's eyes widened as he saw Legolas hesitate, and when the prince laughed, panic seized his heart and nearly crushed it. He turned his face away, he could not bear to look into those bright sapphire eyes, at that open and beautiful face, not as the love of his life rejected his request.

"No…" Legolas whispered as he clasped Elladan's face between his hands and turned the Peredhel's face back to his own. "Elladan… I… I am sorry. I did not mean to laugh. It is just that you have made me so happy, so unbelievably happy…" He pressed a soft kiss to his lover's ripe lips. "Of course I will bond with you! I love you; you are my life, melethen."

Elladan heaved a sigh of relief as he wrapped his arms around his beloved and held him tight, burying his face in the prince's flaxen mane.

"When you laughed, when you said no, I thought…"

Legolas whispered into his lover's ear. "Once again, you have made me lose my composure, melethen. I could never say no to you. I would never say no to spending my life as your bonded mate."

Elladan rolled atop his lover and gazed down into the prince's shining, sapphire eyes. "I love you, Legolas," he whispered against the prince's lips.

"I love you, Elladan," Legolas answered, before yielding to his beloved's claiming kiss.

* * * *

Thranduil stood in his chamber, Glorfindel at his side, with his son and his son's lover standing before him. Elladan had requested an urgent meeting, so urgent that neither he nor Glorfindel had time to dress, so they stood there in his bedchamber, barefoot, clad in robes, their hair groomed but not yet braided for the day.

The Peredhel looked as though he was about to propose something that would have him arrested for treason. Legolas stood beside him, holding his hand, offering gentle, reassuring smiles. Thranduil watched as Elladan bowed his head, slowly dropping to one knee before him.

"My lord," Elladan began with as much courage as he could muster. "I am deeply in love with your son." He swallowed and continued. "I would ask for your permission to bond with him, for I cannot imagine my life without him as my bonded mate. I know this breaks tradition, I know we have only been together for a few short months, but time can make me no more sure of what I feel in my heart now. I would have Legolas to wed, if you would be so generous as to grant your permission."

Thranduil reached down and grasped Elladan's chin, lifting it so that their gazes met. "Rise, Elladan," he answered. "Let me look into your eyes and into your heart."

Elladan rose to his feet and swallowed as the king gazed deep into his eyes. He felt Thranduil's mind peering into his own, and he allowed it, not wishing to hide anything from his beloved's father.

Glorfindel and Legolas looked on, and the prince shifted nervously from foot to foot. The Elda saw the corners of his mate's mouth began to curve into a smile, and he felt his own do the same.

"I can see that your love for my son is true, son of Elrond. Normally, a parent would require a much longer courtship than this. However, in light of the experiences you and Legolas have shared, and the bravery with which you fought to protect my son, even at the cost of your own life, I think this requirement can be waived." He smiled broadly as he continued. "I grant my permission, Elladan. You may bond with my son."

Elladan heaved a sigh of relief as Legolas smiled proudly. Thranduil drew Elladan into an embrace then released him, clasping him by the shoulders. "Of course, you must still acquire the approval of your father before the engagement can go forward."

Elladan nodded. "Of course, my lord. He will grant it, of that I am sure. Once he sees the love I have for Legolas in my eyes, he will not say no."

Thranduil glanced from Legolas to Elladan and back again. "Perhaps it would be easier seen if he were to see how much you love one another."

"I beg your pardon, my lord?" Elladan asked.

Legolas gasped quietly as he looked at his father; he had never left Mirkwood before.

Thranduil turned to his son. "It is only proper that you accompany your beloved when he meets with Lord Elrond, Legolas. Elladan came to me to ask me for permission. It should be you that does the same for him."

"Ada, are you saying I can go to Imladris?" Legolas asked.

"I am saying that you should go to Imladris, Greenleaf, to perform this same duty for your beloved."

"But what about the borders? What about…"

"Legolas," Thranduil interrupted. "I protected this realm without your help for three hundred years, I think I can manage a few months. It is time you ventured out into the world, Iôn."

Legolas threw his arms around his father's neck. "Thank you, Ada," he whispered into his ear. "I love you…"

"I love you, Greenleaf," Thranduil answered. "Now, you have much to prepare, you will all be leaving very soon."

Legolas gave Thranduil's neck a lingering squeeze, then dashed out of the room with Elladan in tow to prepare to travel to Imladris.

* * * *

The king stood upon the stair overlooking the courtyard as his visitors and friends prepared to leave his realm. Haldir approached and stood before him, Orophin and Rúmil standing behind him, and the three of them bowed their heads and covered their hearts with their hands.

"We thank you for your kindness and hospitality during our time here, my lord. We in Lothlórien will not soon forget it."

Thranduil inclined his head and smiled. "Perhaps it is a new beginning for our two realms, captain. We in Taur-e-Ndaedelos will not soon forget your valor and bravery in helping us defend our realm. Namarie, captain."

"Namarie, my lord," Haldir answered and he and his brothers began to descend the stair.

Thranduil reached out and caught Orophin's arm, and the archer turned to face him. "Take care of Agladir, young Orophin. He is most precious to me, and he loves you very much."

"As I love him, my lord," Orophin answered. "I will not fail you in your request. Agladir will always be safe and will never want for anything."

Thranduil smiled and nodded, then watched the archer follow his brothers down the stairs. Elladan and Elrohir stepped forward and bowed their heads, covering their hearts with their hands.

"May the gods bless you with safe passage on your travels, my young warriors. You honor your father with your bravery and kindness. It has truly been a pleasure to have you as guests in my home." He turned to Elladan. "And it will be a pleasure to count you among my kin."

"Thank you, my lord," the twins answered in unison. "We have found new friends in Taur-nu-Fuin." They rose and Elrohir led the way down the staircase. Elladan cast a glance back over his shoulder, smiling at his future father-in-law as the king smiled in return.

Legolas threw his arms around his father's neck bestowing a kiss upon his cheek. "Thank you for this, Ada," he whispered. "You are the best father a son could ask for."

"Watch your back on the road, Legolas. There are dangers outside these woods as well. Remember all that I have taught you, and come home to me safe when the snows melt upon the mountains. I love you, Greenleaf."

"I love you, Ada," Legolas whispered into his father's ear as he fought back tears. He released his father's neck and ran down the stairs toward his horse.

Glorfindel stepped up next to his beloved, clasping Thranduil's hand in his own. The king smiled as he squeezed Glorfindel's hand.

"Mithlagor is with foal, meleth," he said quietly. "The stable master confirmed it this morning."

Glorfindel smiled. "Then I have yet another reason to return. I am anxious to see the offspring." He sighed and continued, "I have dreaded this day. As much as I have missed my home, I will miss you far more, melethen."

Thranduil turned to face his mate, smiling as he caressed his face. "The years we will be apart are short in the lives of Elves, rawen. We must do what we can to save this earth, and if that means you and I must be without one another for a time, then it is worth it in the end."

"You speak true, seron vell. But the ensuing years will be painful without you, the days will be long, and the nights will feel unending."

"I will be with you, Glorfindel, in spirit if not in body. Remember what I have showed you. If you listen, you will hear me, you will feel me, and neither of us will be alone."

The two warriors embraced, both fighting back tears that threatened to fall. Thranduil held his beloved Glorfindel tightly and he whispered into his ear, "Look after my son, and look after yourself. My days will be spent living for the next time we are together. I love you, Glorfindel."

"I love you, Thranduil Oropherion," Glorfindel answered. He pulled back and took his mate's face in his hands and kissed him deeply for all to see. It was one last, lingering kiss to hold him until they met again, and he savored it as he had savored no other.

Reluctantly he pulled away, the taste of his beloved upon his lips, his scent still fresh in his mind, and descended the stair.

As the procession left the gates and crossed the bridge, Thranduil followed, stopping at the edge of the bridge and raising his hand in farewell. Legolas led the group with his faithful mare, followed by the twins, Haldir and his brothers, Agladir, and the rest of the Galadhrim that had been guests in his halls. Glorfindel brought up the rear. No one rode, as the horses were laden with food, provisions, and the belongings of those who were leaving his halls. Sounds of bustling activity echoed behind him in the courtyard as Glorfindel stopped and turned, the Elda raised his hand and waved before blowing a kiss to him and disappearing from his sight.

To be continued…

Rawen = my lion

Melethen = my love

Seron vell = dear lover

Ernilen = my prince

I would like to thank everyone for the kind and generous support you have given me as I wrote this little tale. I was overwhelmed by the responses, and I feel genuinely lucky to have been able to share this with all of you.

Autumn, 3021, Third Age, Gladden Fields

"Love looks not with the eyes but with the mind."

--From A Midsummer Night's Dream (I, i, 234) - William Shakespeare

The air was cool and crisp as I sat upon my mount, feeling the sunshine warm my face. So much had transpired in the long years since my fateful trip to Taur-nu-Fuin: friendship, love, marriage, war, death, and retribution. The world had been changed forever and there were few of my kind left who remembered the way things once had been. I sat in the place where it had began; where Isildur met his end, where the One Ring had lain in slumber, and where it had awakened at Gollum's touch.

Yes, so much had changed; even the earth itself had changed. The mellryn had already begun to fade in Lórien; without the light of the lady, they slowly withered and gave ground to that which would replace them. Gondor and Rohan were free, the Dark Lord had been finally vanquished, and the Elves were leaving Middle-earth. Here and there, those elves that did remain hunted down and destroyed the last remnants of Sauron's beasts. Hunting parties rode the wilderness, tracking and killing yrch, wargs, and uruk-hai; reminiscent of those first days of twilight, when Oromë hunted Middle-earth with Huan and Nahar.

Anor was rising and I looked northeast, across the river, and gazed upon the Great Wood. Gone was the shadow that plagued it for so many years, gone were the yngyl, gone were the yrch, and in their wake, the trees returned, rising tall out of the wasted remains of their predecessors. The shadow was lifted, the light returned, and once again Elves could be heard singing in the Great Wood. All was how it was meant to be long ago; three ages of war and strife had finally come to an end; the circle was complete.

My clothes were damp from nights spent sleeping upon the ground in the cool autumn air. My mount shifted anxiously beneath me and I smiled and patted his neck, talking softly to him.

"Aye, mellonen, we are close, near the place of your birth. Come, show me the road home…"

He nickered and tossed his head, the pale strands of silver flashing against a field of white. I gathered his mane in my hands and he lunged forward, hooves flashing as we flew across the ground.

I felt the joy in my steed and the power in his stride as surged beneath me. I was not sure if I would ever get used to the speed this noble beast possessed; I often swore he rivaled Nahar himself. My hood flew back from my head, and my hair flew in the breeze as we galloped across fields of green grass. It grew ever closer now, and we both sensed it.

Home. We were both going home.

It had been difficult to say goodbye to my friends, but I knew we would be reunited soon enough. I had stood on the docks of the Grey Havens and waved goodbye to those whom I had served, protected, and fought beside. Of my little family, Legolas and Elladan, and Elrohir and Rúmil remained in Middle-earth; they would sail when Elessar and Arwen passed. Elladan traveled Middle-earth with Legolas and Gimli; Elrohir resided in the southern reaches of Eryn Lasgalen with Rúmil, his brothers, and Lord Celeborn. But most importantly, the one I loved more than any other, my mate, my king, still remained, enjoying peaceful days in the wood he had fought to protect for so long.

It was to him that I raced then, my mount flying over the ground as if he had grown wings and learned to fly. I rubbed his neck as I whispered, "Just like your mother," and he leapt a fallen tree as we flew onward.

He had been a gift to me from my beloved, the offspring of his great mare Mithlagor and my own faithful friend Asfaloth, whom I had retired some years ago. Asfaloth had lived out his life with a herd of the Mearas somewhere in the green grass fields north of Rohan. He had served me well, and I did not wish him to die upon the field of battle. I named my new mount for his sire, Asfaloth II, and he possessed the best qualities of both his dam and his sire; brave and bold like his father, swift and agile like his mother.

The journey from Gladden Fields to the Mountains of Eryn Lasgalen was one that normally took a few days. However, Asfaloth's speed made the journey far shorter, and it was with nervous excitement that I realized I would see my beloved before nightfall…

* * * *

The clattering of hooves punctuated the excited murmurs of elves as Asfaloth cantered over the bridge. Glorfindel slid from his mount's back, instructing his loyal steed to accompany a young stable girl. He took the stairs from the courtyard to the palace entrance three at a time, pushing open the large oaken doors. He caught Thranduil's secretary by the elbow, and was surprised at the embrace he received from the elder male.

"'Tis good to see you again, my lord. How long will you be here this time?"

Glorfindel smiled broadly and answered, "As long as my king wants me to be."

"Most excellent, Lord Glorfindel," the elf answered. "His majesty will be very happy to see you. He is in the garden. Should I announce you?"

"No," Glorfindel answered with a smile. "I want to surprise him."

"Very well then, my lord. You know the way."

Glorfindel clapped the elf upon the shoulder then hurried down the halls toward the main gardens.

* * * *

Thranduil knelt upon one knee in the tall grass as he bent down and breathed in the aroma of wild roses. Now that the shadow was gone, he spent his days walking in the woods and his gardens when he was not meeting with representatives of Lord Celeborn or of the various human settlements that would one day take over stewardship of the great wood. He was not yet ready to relinquish that duty though, so until that day came, he was still ruler of Northern Eryn Lasgalen.

He sensed someone behind him and a smile curved his lips as he waited for small hands to clamp over his eyes and giggles of elflings to ring in the air. He often walked in this garden at this time of the day, and the elflings had taken to following him at a distance. They would 'sneak' up on him, covering his eyes before four or five of them would pounce and he would feign defeat by falling on the ground. It was an indulgence he had missed in the long, dangerous years of his rule, and he was glad to play along with them now that peace had come.

Instead of small hands, large, familiar ones covered his eyes. The familiar brush of spun, silken gold against his cheek caused him to whisper, "Rawen…"

Glorfindel removed his hands and stood, as Thranduil rose and turned, only to find himself already in Glorfindel's arms.

"I have missed you, rawen," he said softly, as he held his mate close.

"I have missed you as well, melethen," Glorfindel answered. "But we will miss one another no more, my duty has been done, I am free to be with you always."

"He has sailed then?" Thranduil asked.

"Aye. I accompanied him to the Havens and saw him upon the ship, along with most of the lords of his house."

"I am sure he was loath to leave you behind, meleth; the two of you have been through so much together."

"We have," Glorfindel answered. "But that is a chapter of my life that is written and closed. It is time to begin a new one."

Thranduil smiled as he caressed his beloved's cheek. "And what should we title this chapter, rawen?"

"Glorfindel Finally Comes Home," the Elda answered.

"How about, 'A Tale of Two Lovers'?" Thranduil teased.

"Mmmm… yes. Lovers indeed," Glorfindel purred in response. He bent down and swept his mate into his arms and carried him inside to their bedchamber.

* * * *

Long years passed; one age faded and one began anew. Aragorn Elessar's reign was productive and peaceful. And on a crisp, bright autumn day, in the 120^th year of the Fourth Age, the King of the Reunited Kingdom departed this earth on a journey that each man must take in his own time. He left behind his loving and faithful wife, Arwen, two daughters, and a son, Eldarion, who took up his father's throne.

Elladan, Legolas, and Elrohir were by his side when he passed on into the next world, as was his beloved wife, Arwen. The twins were of great comfort to both their sister and to Legolas, who had become the king's closest and dearest friend. After the grand state funeral and the time of mourning had passed, Arwen left Gondor for the forests of Lórien, where she would live out her last days. Tearful good byes were shared between Arwen and her grown children, and try as they might, they could not dissuade her from leaving. The Evenstar knew in her heart that her light could no longer burn bright without the man she had loved for so long.

Elladan and Elrohir remained in Lórien with Arwen, spending their last days with their beloved sister, sharing tales of their childhood, and talking of all that had come to pass in the long years of their lives. Rúmil returned to Southern Eryn Lasgalen, to be with his brothers and prepare for their departure for Aman. Legolas and Gimli concluded their travels, and the Prince of Eryn Lasgalen returned home to spend sometime in the place of his birth before he too would leave the shores of Middle-earth forever.

Thranduil and Glorfindel lived in peace during their final years in Middle-earth, and on a cool autumn day in the 121^st year of the Fourth Age, almost one year to the day of Aragorn's death, they gathered with their family and friends on the docks of the Grey Havens to watch the sunset.

"There is a strong tail wind," Glorfindel said quietly. "It will speed our journey home."

"Aye," Celeborn answered. "'Tis strange to think of a place none of us has seen as home. Except you, of course, Glorfindel."

"How many of the fallen will be awaiting us?" Legolas answered.

"Fallen?" Gimli questioned. "Do you mean to tell me that there are ghosts roaming Valinor?"

Elrohir laughed. "No, Gimli. There are no ghosts roaming Aman. What Legolas means is that when Elves die, sometimes their spirits are released from the Halls of Mandos, and they are given new bodies, so that they may live new lives."

"I would like to see my father again," Thranduil answered quietly. "Though whether or not his spirit reached Mandos' Halls, I do not know."

"He was a good and brave elf, your father," Celeborn answered. "It was an honor to be his kinsman."

Thranduil smiled and nodded to Celeborn, then turned his eyes to the sea as Glorfindel placed an arm around his beloved's waist.

"What is Aman like, Lord Glorfindel?" Agladir asked quietly.

"Aman, my dear friend, is the most beautiful place in all of Arda," the Elda answered quietly.

"More beautiful than Lothlórien?" Agladir asked, eyes wide.

Glorfindel chuckled. "Aye, more beautiful even still. High, snow capped mountains crown rolling green fields that are thick with trees and wildflowers and tall grass. White sand beaches are kissed by waves of blue water and white foam. Sea birds circle and dive and glide upon the wind, and always the air is clean and fresh, carrying upon it the scent of the sea. In the cities, streets are lined with jewels and polished stone, and everywhere can be heard the songs of old and music floats upon the air day and night."

Agladir placed his head upon Orophin's shoulder. "It sounds perfect," he replied.

"It is perfect," Glorfindel answered. "It is the realm of the Gods."

"Why did you ever leave it?" Orophin asked quietly.

For a brief moment, Glorfindel's expression clouded over, but then a smile curved his lips and he answered, "I left it for glory, and instead I found love. A fair exchange, do you not think so?"

Thranduil smiled and Elladan answered, "A fair exchange indeed."

Celeborn raised his goblet in a toast. "To a life well lived and to new beginnings…"

His companions raised their glasses as well. "To new beginnings!" they answered in unison.

~Finis

Mellonen = my friend

Rawen = my lion

Melethen = my love

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