Series: The Color of Love Trilogy
Title: Thought You Were History
Author: Orchyd Constyne
Contact: orchydconstyne@hamena.org
Fandom: LOTR
Archive: Any, so long as I know where it is  ^^
Rating: NC-17
Beta: Silvara, the most wonderful beta in existence...
Cast: Elrond/Thranduil, Elrond/Erestor implied
Timeline: Winter of 2510 TA
Spoilers:  None
Summary: After Celebrian sets sail, Elrond recalls times when he was
with the one he loved before the Last Alliance which drove them apart.
A/N: This came to me, actually, while listening to Celine Dion's "It's
All Coming Back to Me Now" -- it is the first in a trilogy.  Each
based on a song I heard that brought about the story.  ^^
A/N 2: Thanks to Morgana for pointing out the error in my Elvish!

---

Elrond stared out from the balcony, looking out over the gray gloom
of Imladris.  Celebrian had sailed west and left him and their
children behind.  This was something he had come to terms with.
Although he had wed Celebrian, and loved her as his wife and mother of
his children, he had not been *in* love with her.  He had not bound
himself to her.  It was something she had always wanted, but he could
not do it.  He had given his heart away a long time before he had
taken her as a wife.  She had settled, instead, for being the Lady of
Imladris and mother to his heirs.  He was still saddened to see her
set sail, he had spent many of his years with her.  Admired her, loved
her, and wished her no ill.

His sons were heartbroken, though.  They rampaged across Arda, seeking
and killing any Orc they could find.  It was their driving goal.  They
only came home when weariness and necessity forced them back to him.
He had tried to console them, to reason with them, beg them not to
pursue this life.  Their mother would not have wanted them risking
their lives every day to avenge something that could not be undone.
Elladan and Elrohir, though, would listen to none of it.  So, Elrond
did the only thing he could think of.  He sent Glorfindel with them on
their trips to seek the Orcs.  He knew Glorfindel would never allow
any harm to come to his sons and he thanked his friend every time he
brought them home to him alive and intact.

Arwen was in Lothlorien with her grandmother most of the time.
Galadriel and Arwen shared their grief with one another and he took
solace in that.  She would come home for a few months, spend some time
with him and then return to the Golden Wood.  He did not begrudge her
this, he did nothing but smile and see her off every time she left
him.  Her brothers always escorted her to and from Celeborn's lands,
fearing the same fate that had befallen their mother would also grace 
their sister.

Thunder rolled gently in the distance as a late fall shower
approached.  Elrond sighed deeply, feeling worn and old.  He could
make out the returning party of riders with Glorfindel, Elladan and
Elrohir.  They would return for the winter now, residing in the Last
Homely House until late spring when Arwen would return.

Elrond cocked his head a little, looking at the riders as they came
closer to the house.  There were two golden heads in the party, not
just the one.  Elrond did not have any other blondes in his service
other than Glorfindel, so he was very curious as to who his sons had
brought back with them.  The house was already over-staffed, he hoped
they were not bringing him yet another warrior they recruited.  The
house was large and there were many rooms still available for
permanent residence, but he did not truly wish to add another boarder
onto the roster.  Erestor would kill him.

Elrond went back into his rooms and shrugged on his deep blue formal
robe that was thicker than most.  He was chilled after standing in the
pre-storm breeze and welcomed the warmth the garment allowed him.  He
straightened the circlet on his head and went to greet his sons,
Seneschal and the new guest.  He hoped it was only a guest.  Then
Erestor wouldn't give him an earful on how he always took in the
strays and left his poor Chief Councilor to sort out their living
arrangements, pay and position within the house.

What Erestor didn't know, though, was how Elrond did it most of the
time to simply see his calm, indifferent friend flustered.  He felt
it kept the dark-haired Elf on his toes.

He was chuckling to himself when he took his place on the front steps
to his home.  He heard the hoofbeats slow and come to a stop in front
of him and he raised his eyes.  He also forgot to breathe, it seemed.
His face drained of all color as he took in who the other blond Elf
had been with the riding party.

Thranduil.

He had not set eyes on the King of Mirkwood since just after the
Battle of the Last Alliance.  Thranduil had set off with Oropher,
defending Middle-Earth with all his kin.  Elrond and Thranduil,
though, had parted on bad terms a few days after the Battle of
Dagorlad, after the loss of Oropher.  They had not spoken since.  The
only contact they had with one another were the few letters Erestor
had sent when Elrond had wed and when each of his children were born.
Elrond had received replies, always from one of Thranduil's
secretaries, as well as announcements regarding his marriage and the
birth of his children.

To see him now, dismounting from his stallion alongside his most
trusted friend and his sons, was disturbing.  Elrond felt trapped.  He
smiled, though, the words of welcome falling from his lips in their 
practiced way.  He embraced his sons and Glorfindel, thanking him as
always for returning his sons.  He then turned his attentions to the
blond King, forcing a welcoming smile on his lips.

"King Thranduil.  Welcome to Imladris."

Thranduil bowed his head respectfully, returning Elrond's grey gaze
with impersonal, unreadable green.  "Thank you, Lord Elrond.  I have
come to pay my respects to you and your family in your time of 
grieving."

Elladan took his father's hand while Elrohir took his brother's.
"Ada, King Thranduil has told us he has never visited Imladris before.
We invited him to stay longer than a day so he can fully enjoy what
Imladris has to offer."  Elladan looked to the King.  "Although, it is
not as warm as the spring and summer, but it is still beautiful --
even in winter."

Elrond nodded, putting more cheer and enthusiasm in his voice than he
truly felt.  "Wonderful!  I will have Erestor find you a room, then.
If Your Majesty is not in a rush to return to Mirkwood, it would honor
us to house you for the winter.  It is dangerous and long to venture
back to your kingdom after the first snow."

Thranduil watched the Peredhel closely.  It was obvious he was
uncomfortable, but Thranduil could not deny his desire to spend as
much time in his presence as he could.  It had been thousands of years
since he had shared any close proximity to the Half-Elf, now he meant
to make up for lost time.  "Once again, thank you.  I would be most
honored to spend the winter in Imladris.  Your sons are interesting
and engaging people, and your Seneschal's wit keeps one on their toes.
It would not be a wasted trip to spend it with you and your family."

Elrond nodded and smiled as Erestor approached the group.  Thranduil
noticed how the twins warmly greeted the dark-eyed, pale Elf and how
Glorfindel embraced him with excitement.  Looking at the five
assembled on the stairs of Imladris, Thranduil recognized what
comprised the Peredhel's true family.  Celebrian may have departed,
but she left behind a tight family unit that drew strength from one
another.  When Thranduil's wife had left, though, she had left behind
discordant and angry sons who blamed their father for their unhappy
mother.  Well, his first two sons.  Legolas never treated him like his
other two did.  Legolas looked up to and admired his father, which
never ceased to warm the King's heart.

He envied Elrond and the close family he had.

After a quiet conversation the King could not hear between the tall,
dark-hair Elf and the Lord of Imladris, Glorfindel and the twins
departed.  They promised to see him at the evening meal, excited about
hearing news from Mirkwood.  Elrond bowed slightly at Thranduil,
telling him Erestor, the pale Elf he had been conversing with, would
show him to his rooms and promised to see him at dinner as well.

*****

Elrond made his way to the library where he and Erestor did most of
their work.  He didn't think he would actually work; his mind was
slowly making its way back in time to when he was a much happier 
Half-Elf.  Taking a seat in front of the warm fire Erestor had left in 
the grate, he shook his head.

No.  He would not remember.  He would not relive that pain,
bittersweet though it was.  He would not let it come back, not now.
It had been over two thousand years since he and Thranduil had...  No.
He would not think on it.

But, it was too late.  Elrond's eyes glazed over as he was taken back
to a time by the Sea, where the salt air had teased their skin.
Elrond remembered vividly when Thranduil told him that his father was
fleeing Lindon and founding a kingdom to the far north.  Elrond had
not been prepared for Thranduil to inform him that he would be
accompanying his father in his endeavor.

His throat still closed up at the memory.  His love planned to flee
with the other Sindar from Lindon.  He was going to leave Elrond.
Elrond remembered being proud.  He would not let his emotions show,
hid them deep inside.  Thranduil had leaned in close, capturing his
lips in a soft, loving kiss.  They made promises that night, promises
the two of them kept for over two thousand years...

He shook his head, pinching the bridge of his nose with his thumb and
forefinger.  He could not handle this, not now.  Instead of allowing
the memories to come to him, he tightly locked them down.  He was seen
as the serene, in-charge Elf-lord for a reason and he would not allow
the presence of his one-time lover to strip all that well-fought for
control away from him.

Staring into the fire, Elrond simply banished his thoughts,
concentrating on the flames and ignoring the pounding in his chest.
That is how Glorfindel found him, lost in the flames before him.
Glorfindel carefully approached his Lord, making noise as he went, not
wishing to sneak up on the powerful Half-Elf.  He was greeted with 
large, lost grey eyes that regarded him carefully.

"My Lord?"

"What is it, Glorfindel?"  He blinked slowly, clearing the last of the
cobwebs from his mind.  It was then he noticed how dark the library
was.  "It is night?"

Glorfindel nodded, kneeling at the feet of Elrond, placing his pale
hands on the knee in front of him.  "Elrond?  Are you well?  You
seem... haunted."  It was the only word Glorfindel could think of to
describe the look in his friend's eyes.  "Are you still mourning, my
Lord?  Shall I make your excuses to skip the evening meal?  No one
would blame you for missing the meal."

Elrond shook his head.  "Nay, meldir."  He smiled, grateful for the
concern in Glorfindel's eyes.  It was comforting and Elrond took
strength in his friend.  "I will attend the meal.  I had just lost
track of time."

The blond Elda nodded and smiled at Elrond.  He stood and extended
his hand, offering silent support, which the dark-haired Lord happily
accepted.  Glorfindel had always been there for him and his family
over the many years, having joined Elrond, Erestor, and Haldir in 
Lindon and remaining with them with the refugees of Eregion.

He entered the small dining room that the family had taken to eating
in lately, avoiding the large main hall where Elrond usually
entertained.  His eyes swept the table, smiling softly at the grey
eyes of his sons, the dark pools of his Councilor, but freezing when
his eyes met the cool emerald ones of the King.

Glorfindel's hand was resting on his Lord's lower back, guiding him
into the small room, and he noticed immediately when the muscles in
his friend's back tensed and the breathing quickened slightly.  He 
followed Elrond's gaze to Thranduil and he made the connection.  
Thranduil had never visited Imladris, Glorfindel had never been sent 
to the great kingdom of Mirkwood on any mission, and the blond did not 
remember a single time anyone from Mirkwood (other than a messenger 
every now and again) ever came to visit in the valley.

Something had happened between these two great Elves, and Glorfindel
felt it would be a very interesting winter.  He gave Elrond a small
push, forcing him to the head of the table and then taking his own
seat to Elrond's left, looking across the table to Thranduil who sat
on Elrond's right.  Erestor, who normally occupied the seat Thranduil
was taking, brought another chair and squeezed in between the Mirkwood
King and Elrohir, while Elladan sat beside Glorfindel.  The chair
opposite Elrond was left empty as it was traditionally used by
Celebrian.

Aye, Glorfindel confirmed, this would be very interesting indeed.

*****

Thranduil watched Elrond throughout dinner.  He spoke softly and
carefully with his children, gently reminding Erestor and Glorfindel
that they had a guest and should not spend the better part of the meal
insulting one another... no matter how good naturedly they did it.
Thranduil chuckled, enjoying the banter and the comfortable feel the
meal gave him.

The twins tried to engage him in conversation, which he attempted to
give, but Elrond broke in once again telling his sons to stop
badgering their guest.  When dessert was served, Thranduil was brought
to tears with laughter.  They were given seasonal berries, pastries
and stiffened cream to enjoy, along with a sweet dessert wine.
Glorfindel, smiling evilly at Elladan, took a finger full of the stiff
cream and, watching for Elrond to look away, flicked it across the
table at Erestor.

The dark-haired Councilor gasped, his eyes widening.  Without a word,
he picked up a particularly over-ripe berry and chucked it at
Glorfindel.  The warrior Elf was ready for him, though, and swatted it
away... directly into Thranduil's wine goblet.  The dark red liquid
splashed up onto the King's white doublet before he could move to get
out of the way.

Elrond's mouth dropped in astonishment.  "Glorfindel!" he roared.  "We
have a guest!  I have given you all terrific leeway at the table of
late, but this sort of behavior is completely unacceptable in the
presence of..."  He would have continued, but at that moment, a large
dollop of cream impacted with the right side of his face.

"Lighten up, peniaur," Thranduil laughed as he licked the rest of the
cream from his fingers.

Elrond stared.  Thranduil hadn't called him 'peniaur' since they'd
parted.  It was Thranduil's nickname for him, and had always annoyed
him to no end since he was barely more than 500 years older than
Thranduil.  Which is probably why Thranduil loved to torment him with
it.  Elrond could not help but grin back at the shining face of his
love, wiping away the cream from his cheek.

"Gwanunig!  We must avenge Ada's honor!"  Elladan stood, laughing, and
grabbed the spoon in the dish of preserves.  He quickly flung the
dark, sticky substance in the direction of the King, his aim true as
always, coating the golden locks in deep purple.

Glorfindel reached out, grasping for another pastry, aiming it at
Thranduil.  Thranduil, laughing heartily, grabbed Erestor and placed
him between himself and Glorfindel when Glorfindel let loose the
pastry.  Erestor stood, crying out as the gooey pastry slowly slid
from the chest of his robe to the floor.

"Glorfindel!"  Erestor reached his hand into an amber liquid and
reached across the table, smearing the honey all over Glorfindel's
face.  When he finished with the attacker, he turned to the King and,
pulling Thranduil's tunic out to bear his chest to him, poured some
cool strawberry sauce down the inside of the tunic.  He then released
the tunic and squished it against the sticky skin of the Mirkwood
King.

Erestor then screamed when his own robe was pulled out behind him and
something warm and sticky dripped down his back and over his buttocks.
Elrohir was laughing, replacing the empty bowl of... whatever he had
just shoved down his old tutor's back.

Within mere moments, a full out food fight was in progress.  Elrond
laughed and threw the sticky foods, enjoying the reprieve from
mourning.  Finally, all of them, laughing and gasping for breath,
stopped to take in the state of the family dining area.

"Ielleg is going to have a fit when she sees this room," Elrond
managed to get out.  "Although, since these have been happening for
years, I am sure she should expect the mess we leave when we have
finished our evening meal."  He smiled broadly at his family and
guest.

Erestor, walking oddly due to the sticky substance Elrohir had poured
down his back (which had since oozed between his arse), shook his
head.  "I think we could all use a bath.  Shall we adjourn to the
public bathing area?"

Elrond was going to decline, but Thranduil nodded, smiling.  "Sounds
wonderful.  I need to get this... what is this in my hair, Elladan?"
He was fingering the tresses coated in the deep purple goo.

Elladan laughed.  "Blueberry preserves!"

"Ah.  Aye.  Lovely.  So, aye, Lord Erestor, I would love a bath and
could not imagine a group more entertaining than this one to take one
with."  He smiled brightly at the Elf, his eyes twinkling.

Glorfindel reached out and took Elladan's arm while Erestor took
Elrohir's, walking out of the dining area toward the bathing rooms,
laughing and chatting as they went.

Elrond, anxiety returning to him now that he was alone with Thranduil,
turned quickly to follow his family when he felt his foot slide
against a stray pastry on the floor.  Before he could exert any of
that Elven grace his race was known for, he found himself laying flat
on his back, staring up into concerned green eyes.

"Are you all right, Elrond?"  Thranduil offered his hand to aid the
Half-Elf up from his position on the floor.

"I am fine, Thranduil.  Just a little tumble."  Elrond noticed that
his calves were between Thranduil's legs, and a blush crept over his
features.  He accept the proffered hand and Thranduil pulled him up,
stepping backwards slightly.  When Elrond raised his eyes, he was mere
inches from Thranduil's face.  He could see the gold flecks in the
eyes that had once regarded him with love and passion, the slight
pinkish tint to lips that he used to kiss until swollen and bruised.
His breath caught in his throat as his vision wavered slightly, caught
up in a memory of long ago, when he and Thranduil stood this close.  A
much different time with much different circumstances...

*****

"Thranduil, you are not trying!"  Elrond laughed, stepping back from
the blond.

"I do not see why we are doing this.  I have never gone to one of the
banquets, why should I this year?"  The young Elf pouted at Elrond,
crossing his arms in defiance.

"This year is because I am going and I demand that my lover escort me,
like a normal relationship.  Now, you will learn to dance, you will
attend the celebration, and you will dance with me!"  Elrond walked up
to Thranduil again, placing their arms in the appropriate stance and
began his lesson once again.

They moved silently, Thranduil performing the steps Elrond had taught
him to perfection.  Then again, thought Elrond, everything about
Thranduil was perfection.  A smile slipped onto his lips as he looked
up into the green eyes that had captured him.  Had it truly only been
two centuries since he had met the beautiful, strong creature he held
in his arms?

Their movements slowed, bodies moving closer together than when they
would dance on the floor of the great ballroom where Gil-Galad was
holding tonight's festivities.  "Thranduil?" he whispered.  "This is
not how we dance."

And evil smirk spread on the soft curve of the younger Elf's lips.
"Aye, this is how *we* dance, peniaur."  They stopped moving
completely, and Thranduil's lips descended upon the Half-Elf's,
causing him to lose all sense of reason and purpose beyond the feel
and taste of his lover...

*****

Elrond shook himself of the memory as they entered the steaming
bathing area.  He could not let that thought go any further or he
would have a difficult time undressing to bathe.  Erestor and
Glorfindel had just stripped and were entering the water where his
sons were already submerged.  The bath they had chosen was the
largest, easily accommodating the six of them.  Thranduil divested
himself of his clothing quickly, and Elrond tried with all he was
*not* to look and stare at the pale body he once knew so intimately.
Taking a deep breath, Elrond shed his clothing as well, throwing them
into the massive sticky pile near the door.

"I think the laundress is going to be none too pleased with us, as
well," he commented.  The water was pleasantly hot, enveloping him
completely and already soothing the tension from his body.

Elrond could feel Thranduil's eyes on him.  The King had never been
one to be subtle, but Elrond thought he would have been a little less
obvious in his scrutiny.  He felt Glorfindel slip in behind him in the
water.

"Shall I wash your hair, meldir?"  The blond held up a pitcher of
water, smiling into the haunted eyes.  Elrond simply nodded, not
trusting his voice with Thranduil watching him so closely.

When Glorfindel poured the warm water on his hair, Elrond felt his
eyes slowly close and a smile of contentment spreading on his face.
He allowed himself to be lost in the soothing sensation of having one
of his dearest friends wash out the sticky mess he helped create.
Throughout the activity, though, the Peredhel was well aware of
Thranduil's eyes.  Glorfindel embraced Elrond from behind and
pronounced his hair free of pastries, laughing and pushing away from
his Lord and toward Elladan who needed a hair washing as well.

Elrond then met Thranduil's eyes and had to force himself not to
tremble at the glare he was receiving from the King.  He quickly
turned his eyes to his family.  Elrohir was washing out Erestor's long
locks while Glorfindel cleaned Elladan's.  The Lord of Imladris picked
up a cake of soap and began to work on removing the rest of their food
fight from his body.

Thranduil dipped his head under the water, silently seething.  He had
watched the Seneschal fondling his Lord, wondering if Elrond had
jumped immediately into Glorfindel's bed the moment Celebrian had left
for Valinor.  He knew he was jealous, but he refused to admit it. 
Elrond was not his, had not been his for over two millennia.  He
scrubbed the blueberry preserves from his hair, wondering if they had
stained it purple.  He smiled to himself, momentarily forgetting his
anger.  The great King of Mirkwood with a streak of purple permanently
in his hair.  He was sure Legolas would find it immensely amusing.  He
knew his son would never believe his father had been in -- in fact,
actively participated in -- a food fight with the Lord of Imladris and
his family.

Thranduil resurfaced, wiping the water from his face and slowly
opening his eyes.  Elrond had shifted while he was wetting his hair
and now sat directly in front of him.

In a soft voice, Elrond asked, "Would you like me to wash the jam out
of your hair, my Lord?"

It was an innocent enough question, but it caused Thranduil's heart to
clench.  No, he did not want Elrond's hands on him in any fashion.  He
did not want to feel the soft fingers in his hair or his hard body
pressed close to him.  He did not want any of this and was now
questioning why he had even decided to come to Imladris.  But, he
could not refuse the Lord of the Last Homely House, especially in
front of his entire family.  It would be rude and he could not think
of a valid and believable excuse to refuse.

So he simply nodded.

Elrond reached over to the side of the tub and retrieved the soap,
motioning for Thranduil to turn his back to the Peredhel.  When he
felt Elrond's soapy hands begin their work on his hair, he had to
exert all his self-control not to shudder in sheer bliss.  He closed
his eyes, relishing the feel of hands he had not had touch him in so
many years.  If he tried, he knew he could push away all those years
and pretend that they were in these same baths shortly after the
completion of Imladris.

Thranduil thought back to those days, filled with such warmth and
laughter.  Elrond had been proud of his accomplishment in creating a
refuge in the valley.  Thranduil had made sure to visit often,
ignoring his father's admonishments over his relationship with the
Half-Elf.  His heart could not be denied, he would argue.  He loved
who he loved and his father could accept it or his son could simply
not come back from Imladris.

Oropher had warned him that the relationship would not last, that it
was not forever.  He had warned him many times, about many things.
And his father's voice still echoed in Thranduil's mind.  It had every
time his thoughts had strayed to the dark-haired, stormy-eyed lover of
his past.

*****

Elrond blinked slowly, swallowing the last of his tea and walking back
into his rooms from the terrace.  It was late, he was exhausted and he
was an emotional mess.  He had finished his bath with everyone and
mumbled goodnights to his companions and sons.  In a daze he had made
his way back to his rooms, changed into a sleeping robe and prepared
some tea in hopes it would ease his nerves.

It didn't.  Thranduil was here.  In his home.  He had just bathed with
the Elf, had his naked body pressed against the King's.  He had run
his hand through hair he had dreamed about on many lonely nights.

Elrond snuffed out the candles and eased himself into his cold bed.
He was used to sleeping alone, but tonight somehow the bed felt empty.
He and Celebrian had always kept separate quarters, only sleeping
together when they wished for physical intimacy.  Stretching out,
slowly succumbing to sleep, Elrond wondered how he would survive the
winter, how he could control himself seeing the blond Elf day in and
day out.

For the first time in many years, Elrond felt his heart ache with his
need for the love he had let go so long ago.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*

The first snowfall came three weeks after Thranduil's arrival, just as
expected.  Elrond had kept himself busy, avoiding the King as much as
he could.  He took his meals with him and spent a few moments in the
evening after the meal with Thranduil, Erestor and Glorfindel in the
library.  Other than those few encounters, he did not seek the
Mirkwood King out.

Erestor had made a comment to him about his lack of interest in their
guest, but Elrond had dismissed the veiled inquiry.  He reminded
Erestor that they needed to go over the staff for the winter since
they never kept a full staff over the cold months, they had to go
through the fall tally of the crops as well as check the stores for
their winter confinement.

When the first freeze came, it offered Elrond more opportunity to
avoid his old lover.  Imladris was renowned for it's wines, but they
made a wonderful dessert wine that was special.  They left some grapes
on the vines for the first freeze and used the frozen fruits to make
ice wine.  It was special to Imladris, but the process of overseeing
the creation of their yearly supply took much of his time.

Thranduil had done his part as well, keeping out of Elrond's way.  He
did not trust himself with the Peredhel.  He was still hurt from their
parting and now he stung from the knowledge of his relationship with
the Balrog-slayer.  In addition to avoiding Elrond, he also made sure
he rarely saw Imladris' Seneschal.  He spent most of his time,
ironically, with Elrond's twin sons.  They amused him, sparred with
him, and could not get enough of his stories from ages past.

He knew he was torturing himself.  Although he was fond of the twins,
he was reminded many times over how much like their father they were.
Certain mannerisms that he found endearing in Elrond he found
unsettling in the twins.  He usually put aside the mixed feelings he
had about the Half-Elves and simply enjoyed their company.

*****

Glorfindel made his way to the library, where Elrond had taken
to hiding since Thranduil's arrival.  From the doorway he regarded
his employer with obvious concern.  Elrond looked tired, unrested.
Glorfindel cleared his throat and approached the desk Elrond was
working at.  It was time, Glorfindel decided, to discuss this
situation with Elrond.

Elrond looked up from his parchment and smiled at his friend.  "Can I
help you, meldir?"

"Aye, I hope you can."  Glorfindel took a seat on the sofa near his
Lord and crossed his legs.  "Why is it you have been avoiding King
Thranduil?"

Elrond, without knowing it, dropped his quill and stared in shock at
Glorfindel.  He quickly recovered himself and picked his quill up and 
dipped it back into the ink.  "I am afraid I do not know what you are 
talking of, Glorfindel."

Glorfindel raised one eyebrow at his old friend.  "Oh?  I think you
do.  You have yourself holed up in here, Elrond.  Why is that?"

"There is much to be done.  Running Imladris is not something that
just happens.  It happens because Erestor, you and I make it run.
Since you have been out on patrols a lot lately, and Erestor has been
reorganizing the winter staff and checking the stores, I decided to
take on the additional responsibilities left.  The winter wine
harvest, old correspondences that needed attending, and making the
preparations for the Solstice celebration next month."  He knew he
sounded desperate, pleding even, but he did not want Glorfindel to
ask too many more questions.  He was a terrible liar and knew his
friend would call him on it if he suspected.

"Aye, those are things that we do every year.  It also does not take
this long for you to finish catching up.  You are usually done by the
first snowfall, meldir.  Why do you avoid him?  And why does he avoid
me?"

"As to why he avoids you, I do not know.  Perhaps you should ask him,
not me.  My reasons, though," he raised his eyes to the piercing blue
gaze, "are my own.  If, and when, I decide to share those reasons, I
will seek you out and inform you."  His tone and demeanor left no room
for argument.  He hoped Glorfindel would simply drop the conversation, 
leave him to his misery.

"I know you, Elrond.  Something is not right.  I asked Erestor, but he
said it was not his place to tell me.  What is it about Thranduil that
upsets you so?"  He had no intent of leaving this library until he had
his answers.

Elrond sighed, seeing the resolution in the bottomless azure eyes.
"Simply?  Long ago, Thranduil and I were involved.  It began in Lindon
and ended in the Battle of the Last Alliance.  We have not spoken to
one another since that time except in announcements about our
respective realms.  So, his presence here, now, is unsettling and
unexpected."

"And Erestor knew?"

"Aye.  He helped found Imladris with me.  Thranduil came here for many
years after we left Lindon.  Erestor always knew of the relationship,
he encouraged it because it brought me such happiness.  When it ended,
I asked him to never speak of it.  This is the first time it has been
discussed since the end of the Second Age.  Now, you know."  Elrond
stood from his desk and strolled slowly to one of the terrace windows
in the massive library.

"Why is he here?"  Glorfindel stood and joined his Lord, looking out
over the forests of the valley and the Bruinen in the distance.

Elrond shook his head.  "I don't know.  I wish I did.  It would make
his stay easier to endure if I only knew his purpose.  Over two
thousand years of silence, Glorfindel, and then he simply appears."

Glorfindel leaned against the wall, crossing his arms and peering out
over the land.  "Why don't you ask him?"

"Because that would mean opening wounds I would rather not see
inflamed again.  The sharp pain is now an dull ache, lessened by many
years and new loves."  He caught Glorfindel's eyes, held them as he
spoke.  "I fear why he is here, mellonen vrûn."

*****

Thranduil knew he was being silly and childish.  Avoiding Elrond was
not going to make the problem go away.  In fact, it was making it
worse.  He rarely saw the Peredhel, but he was always on the edge of
Thranduil's mind.  He had been fighting against the flood of memories
the Half-Elf brought back, but it was getting harder and harder as the
nights got longer and longer.

He was talking with the twins now.  Elladan was telling him about the
last excursion they had taken to remove the latest infestation of
Orcs.  It was, the King reluctantly admitted, fantastically boring.
Apparently, the boys had inherited their father's lack of storytelling
ability.  He did his best to look interested, at any rate, and grunted
in the appropriate places to simulate listening.

When at last the tale was over, Thranduil seized the opportunity to
wrest away control of the conversation.  "Your father must be very
proud of you two," he began casually.  "Speaking of which, I have not
seen him around much as of late."

"That's usual about this time of year," the younger twin replied.
"Getting everything set up for the winter is a pretty big job.  Ada's
usually found in the library poring over harvest reports and inventory
lists and other things with long columns of numbers that make the eyes
go cross if stared at too long."

Thranduil nodded.  "The library, you say?  Perhaps I'll just look in
on him, then; make sure he doesn't need any help."  Anything for a
respite from tale-telling and tale-enduring (listening was far too
overstated a word).  He hurried off in the direction the twins
indicated, trying hard not to make it *look* like he was hurrying.

He finally managed to navigate the twists and turns of Imladris -- two
thousand years is long enough to blur anyone's memory of a place --
and had just turned the corner into the hallway leding down to the
large double doors of the library.  The moment he did so, though, the
doors swung outward, revealing Elrond and Glorfindel silhouetted
against the sunlit room.  Thranduil ducked back around the corner.

"I know I've been distant," he heard Elrond say.  "I promise I'll make
up for it tonight."

Glorfindel's voice responded, "I look forward to it."

Thranduil peeked around the corner just long enough to see the
Seneschal wrap his arms around Elrond in a tight embrace.  He
turned around and walked quickly away, closing his eyes against the
sight, but instead of darkness, he could only see a not-so-different
embrace from deep in the past.

*****

The door to Elrond's room opened just a crack.  Thranduil tensed in
anticipation.  He'd been waiting in his lover's bed for almost an
hour.  It was to be a surprise for Elrond, since he hadn't known of
Thranduil's coming.  After a long discussion... well, argument with
his father, Thranduil had finally decided that his love was more
important than his position, and was going to offer to bind himself to
Elrond against his father's wishes.

Thranduil watched the door anxiously, ready to spring up with a shout
of welcome, when he heard a familiar voice.  Gil-Galad.  He was
saying, "I hope that wasn't too forward."

"No, no," Elrond replied, "forward is good.  Forward is great.  How
else would you have known?"

"Well, I'm glad I asked.  It was wonderful."

"I had a great time, too.  We'll have to do it again."

"Of course.  Now, get yourself cleaned up; we still have that meeting
to go to."

The shadow in the crack of the door shifted, and Thranduil could
clearly see the outlines of the two figures merging in an embrace.
Thranduil was so stunned that he didn't notice when the door opened
and Elrond walked in.  Only the surprise in Elrond's voice as he
called his lover's name brought him back to the moment.

"Surprise," he said with rather less enthusiasm than he'd planned just
a moment ago.

Elrond bounded across the room and swept Thranduil up into a hug.
"Why didn't you tell me you were coming?  Ai!  It's so good to see
you!"

Thranduil forced himself into a mirth he no longer felt.  "If I told
you, it wouldn't be a surprise.  I just felt like you could use a
break.  I know I needed one."

The discussion moved on to matters of little importance to either.
Thranduil did not mention his decision to Elrond; not then, not ever.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Erestor walked quickly through the halls of the main house, noting
with excitement all the preparations for the great celebration that
night.  The Winter Solstice had arrived and the house was alive with
anticipation.  This was one of the grandest feasts Elrond gave all
year and many were invited.  Arwen had returned with her grandfather
the previous week.

Erestor smirked while remembering Celeborn's surprise at seeing
Thranduil there to meet the party with Elrond.  The Lothlorien Lord
bore no ill-will toward the King of Mirkwood, but he knew the long
standing bitterness that Thranduil and Elrond shared.  Thranduil,
though, welcomed him warmly and the two Elven-lords had spent much of
the passing week together.

The dark-haired Noldo Elf navigated the halls with the ease of many
millennia supervising the household.  He had come with Elrond from
Lindon to to defend Celeborn's people in Eregion.  They had never 
left the valley that had made it possible for them to survive the 
conflict.  Since that time, Erestor had been Elrond's Chief Councilor.
Glorfindel had joined them not long before they were dispatched, but 
had immediately found a loving place in the small circle that Elrond 
considered family.

Elrond.  Erestor was worried about the Half-Elf.  His relationship
with Thranduil had ended sour; the Elven King had broken his dearest
friend's heart.  He knew Elrond never stopped loving the blond with
eyes as cold as jade.  Erestor had always thought, though he never
asked and never voiced his concerns, that though the two great Elves
had never formally bonded that a bond had been forged none-the-less.
Elrond had never been the same after losing Thranduil.

He had a few hours left until the meal that would begin the
festivities.  He planned on bathing and changing into his formal
robes.  He entered the bathing chamber, stripping himself quickly and
entering one of the pools.  He had just soaped up his hair when
Thranduil entered the room.

"Would you mind if I joined you, Lord Erestor?"  Thranduil did not
wish to offend the Elf by merely hopping into the pool with him
uninvited.

Erestor smiled up at the King.  "You are most welcome, my Lord, and it
would an honor to share time with you."

Thranduil quickly removed his clothing and slipped into the warm
water.  He wet his hair and accepted the cake of hair soap Erestor
offered him.  As he lathered his tresses he felt Erestor's dark,
bottomless eyes on him.  Thranduil rinsed the suds from his hair and
then met those deep eyes with a steady gaze of his own.

"Is something wrong, Erestor?"

Erestor shook his head.  "Nay.  I have simply been wondering why you
have come to Imladris.  You left here a long time ago, Thranduil,"
Erestor said, dropping formality.  "I never expected you to return.
You have, in a very subtle way, completely upset this household.  Now,
I wonder why that is."

Thranduil smiled.  He had always admired Erestor's direct approach.
"I came because I wished to offer my condolences.  His wife and mother
of his children left him after many years."

"You could have simply sent us a letter.  It is what you did to
announce your wedding, the birth of all three your sons, and the
departure of your own wife."  His eyes narrowed slightly as if summing
up the King.

"I just... felt is was time, Erestor," the great King said softly.

"Time?  Time for what?"

"To mend old wounds, mellonen."

Erestor shook his head.  "Those wounds, my Lord, I do not think will
ever heal.  Though, I do wish you luck.  Elrond... he has never been
the same.  All these years, Thranduil, he was never the same."
Erestor rinsed his body and left the pool, gathering his clothes after
slipping on a robe.

Thranduil sat in the pool, mulling over Erestor's words before finally
rinsing himself and exiting for his own chambers.

*****

Elrond stood with Erestor on one side of the great hall, watching all
his guests laugh, talk and dance.  The evening had been a wonderful
distraction from his thoughts.  His gaze shifted to Thranduil every so
often, still enchanted with the image of perfection the blond King
made.

Thranduil had his hair braided, a deep green and silver ribbon twined
through the braids and tied loosely at the ends.  He wore a silver
silk tunic that shimmered in the low light of the hall, faint
embroidery threading through the garment.  His suede leggings hugged
his well-muscled thighs and his dark brown boots accentuated his
calves.  It was understated but elegant, just like Thranduil.

Elrond was in one of his deep red robes, with golden vines and grapes
embossed in various areas.  His appearance was much the same as ever,
his hair pulled back softly and his mithril circlet adorning his head.
Erestor was speaking to him in soft tones about the twins and their
enthusiasm with which they danced with one another about the floor.  
Elrond had long known about the relationship his sons shared and none 
in Imladris or Lothlorien would speak against the Elf-Lord's sons and 
their love for one another.

Glorfindel swept up to the two dark-haired Lords and smiled at Elrond.
"My Lord, you should smile!  The celebration is a wonderful success
and all assembled continue to praise your hospitality!"  Glorfindel
offered both Elrond and Erestor fresh glasses of wine from a passing
tray and gave a salute.  Once he had drained his glass, the blond
took his and Elrond's glasses, handing them off to a passing servant.

"Elrond, one of my dearest and oldest friends, you should laugh and
enjoy this night.  Come!"  He grabbed Elrond's hand and pulled him
onto the floor with the other dancing couples.  "We shall dance, my
Lord!"

"Glorfindel, are you mad?!" Elrond exclaimed, though he laughed and
moved with the Elda to the lively music.

"Aye, Elrond, I do believe I am!  But, I only wished to see you smile.
It has been so long, and it pains me to see you so upset.  So, we
dance!"

The two Elves laughed and danced, Elrond's dark red robes swishing
about as Glorfindel led him in a fast and furious dance.

Erestor smiled, laughing silently to himself.  Leave it up to
Glorfindel to banish a terrible mood.  The Noldo's eyes swept the
floor and fell on the pale face of the Mirkwood Elf.  Thranduil's eyes
never left the dancing couple, and Erestor could swear the look on the
King's face was pure, furious jealousy.

But, surely Thranduil didn't still...  Of course he did, Erestor
chided himself.  How could he have been so blind?!

*****

Elrond fell heavily into his seat, panting slightly with the exertion
of dancing with Glorfindel.  He had begged his Seneschal to let him
rest a moment, and the blond Elda had immediately swept Erestor into
the dancing throng.  Elrond drained his glass of wine and looked out
over the mass of moving people.

His eyes fell on Thranduil, of course.  His eyes became half-lidded
and dreamy, remembering when the King had worn a similar outfit to the
last Winter Solstice festival he'd attended in Imladris.  Although he
had looked stunning in the clothes, it was not those he remembered so
vividly...  No, it was removing them after the festival that he
remembered so well.

*****

They would be going to war soon.  A great Alliance had been forged,
and the Elves would rally with the Men to help save Middle-Earth.
But tonight, the preparations for war were put on hold. Tonight,
there was no threat of impending doom; no Shadow loomed, ready to
devour all Arda.  Tonight was the Winter Solstice, a celebration of
rebirth, marking the time when the day would begin to again take
dominion over the night.  There was feasting and singing and dancing,
but for Elrond and Thranduil, alone in the darkened room they had
shared for so long, there was only each other and the soft quiet of
winter in Imladris.

It was to be the last night they would share together for a long time.
Elrond would be marching with Gil-Galad's army, but Thranduil was
returning to Greenwood the Great to join with his father before
setting out for Mordor with that army.  So, both Elves had decided
that tonight had better count.

And they were wasting no time.  Their clothes lay in rags strewn
across the floor, ripped to shreds as the lovers tore at each other in
their passion and haste.  Their smooth, naked skin was pressed
together in a heated embrace as their mouths locked, tongues swirling,
twining together in a kiss that seemed to stop time.  Hands, calloused
from centuries of use with bow and sword, roamed freely across bare
backs, chests, thighs, and butts.

As if they shared one mind, the two slid their hands down the other's
body in the same moment, and wrapped their fingers delicately around
the other's rigid cock.  The kiss was broken as the two gasped their
pleasure at the contact.  Thranduil leaned down to kiss Elrond's neck
and throat, as his hand stroked Elrond's firm shaft.  Elrond responded
ardently, nipping at Thranduil's shoulder as his own hand moved to cup
Thranduil's tight sac and massaged the weighty orbs within.

Thranduil turned Elrond around in his arms, pulling his chest against
Elrond's back.  He felt his cock nestle against Elrond's ass as he
reached around and gripped the elder Elf's ample erection and stroked
it vigorously.  Elrond's hands squeezed Thranduil's behind, and he
leaned his head back to capture Thranduil's mouth in another
breathless kiss.

The motion of Thranduil's hand on his staff was driving Elrond mad
with desire.  Before his passion reached the breaking point, though,
he took control of the situation.  He turned around and put his hands
on Thranduil's shoulders, pushing him backward and down onto the bed.
The Herald continued moving with a cat-like agility, sliding down
Thranduil's body and plunging his mouth down over his love's firm rod.

Thranduil's head snapped back as his hands gripped the bedclothes.
Elrond's mouth drew him in completely, using his tongue to explore
every inch of the Elf's hardness while his hands massaged Thranduil's
hips and thighs, pinning him to the bed.  When Thranduil began to
thrash about from the maddeningly slow teasing, Elrond obliged by
bobbing his head up and down.

His lover began to grunt in sync with the motion, lifting himself onto
his elbows to meet Elrond's eyes.  The look of love that met his gaze
only redoubled his arousal.  His hips began to buck and thrust against
Elrond, driving his pulsing cock into Elrond's wet and hungry mouth in
a frenzy that did not let up until the wave of orgasm crashed over
him.  He felt the tingling twitch of the gurthelle pulse through
him; felt his seed spill into Elrond's mouth as his body moved of
its own accord and his breath was ripped from him in ragged gasps.

Elrond felt Thranduil's fingers underneath his chin, lifting his head
as Thranduil sat up.  The Mirkwood Prince tilted his head and kissed
Elrond sweetly on the corner of the mouth, trailing his fingertips
lightly across Elrond's chest.  His voice was just above a whisper
when he said, "I ache to feel you inside me, melethron."

The words sent shivers through Elrond's body. But they were
nothing compared to the trembling that he felt at the sight of
Thranduil positioning himself on knees and elbows, presenting his
beautiful hindquarters to Elrond, and looking back over his shoulder
at his love.

Elrond's cock throbbed in anticipation, but the Lord of Imladris
forced himself to go slowly.  The lovers always kept a phial of oil in
the room to be used as lubrication, and it was this that Elrond
reached for first.  He removed the stopper, releasing the scent of
lavender into the room.  Dipping two fingers into the bottle, he then
replaced the stopper and set the phial aside.  He used his fingers to
spread the oil across the tender opening Thranduil was offering to
him.  Gently, he eased one finger inside, followed by the second,
making sure that the entire passage was well-coated.

Thranduil moaned in pleasure at the feeling.  He quelled the natural
instinct to tense, forcing his body to relax and accept the invasion
of Elrond's fingers.  Elrond was slowly moving his fingers in and out,
coaxing the puckered flesh to widen in preparation.  Thranduil felt
tingles shooting through his body, especially his spent erection.
While it was too soon for his body to allow him to become hard again,
Thranduil nevertheless relished the sensations.

When Thranduil's body was ready, Elrond poured a generous amount of
the oil into his cupped hand, rubbing it along his tight shaft, taking
care to lubricate the tip especially well.  He gripped his cock at the
base and guided it into the waiting entrance, using his other hand on
Thranduil's hip to steady himself.  He eased himself into his lover,
pushing forward a little at a time until he could feel his entire
length being gripped by Thranduil's warmth.

The Prince gasped as Elrond entered him, then exhaled slowly, relaxing
his body by inches in order to accept all of Elrond's staff inside
him.  When he could feel Elrond's thighs pressing against him, 
Thranduil pulled himself up onto his hands and began to rock forward
and back against Elrond, repeatedly impaling himself onto his lover's
arousal.  He moaned with each thrust, sometimes moving his hips in a
circle, sometimes slamming back against Elrond's thighs in a powerful
motion, altering speed and direction in his wantonness.

Elrond gripped Thranduil's hips, but let the younger Elf do most of
the work.  He was very surprised at Thranduil's actions, as Elrond
generally controlled the motion when they were coupled like this.
This was a definite change, but Elrond's body was shaking with such a
fire of passion that he was in no mood to argue.

The first hints of orgasm took him by surprise, so quickly did they
come upon him.  Elrond called out in rapture, and Thranduil responded
by moving his body faster, even clenching and relaxing his internal 
muscles, which only spurred Elrond to louder cries of pleasure.  He
squeezed his eyes shut, points of color flaring across his field of
vision.  His hands clamped down on Thranduil's hips so tightly he felt
his nails digging into the Elf's skin.  But Thranduil did not ease his
assault.  Only when Elrond screamed and emptied himself into Thranduil
in great pulsing spurts did the Mirkwood royal cease his 
ministrations.  Elrond fell forward, laying his cheek against
Thranduil's back, swallowing large gulps of air in an attempt to catch
his breath.

They lay like that for some time before kicking off the soiled
bedclothes and curling up together for one final sleep before the
overlord Sauron claimed their love as one more of his victims.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Elrond shifted in his seat, stretching his back slightly.  His head
was pounding.  He had too much to drink the night before at the
festival.  The Elf-lord smiled as he remembered dancing with both his
Seneschal and his Chief Councilor.  For just a few hours he had
forgotten all about Celebrian and Thranduil.  He was sure the three of
them had received many odd looks.

He was pulled from his thoughts when that Chief Councilor quietly
walked into the study.  Elrond looked up and smiled at the pale, dark-
eyed Noldo.  "Good afternoon, Erestor."

Erestor nodded to his employer and then took a seat across the study,
crossing his legs and leaning back into the chair.  "Elrond, we need
to have a talk."

Elrond cocked his head, his heart racing a little.  "Usually when a
conversation begins this way, meldir, the discussion is not a positive
topic."

Erestor's lips curled up slightly at the corners, his eyes lighting
with amusement.  "I am sure, my Lord, that this conversation will not
end with you thanking me for bringing it to your attention."

Elrond stood and walked slowly toward the slender Elf who had liquid
ink eyes, crossing his arms as he went.  "What has happened, Erestor?"

"Last night, while you were dancing with Glorfindel, I got a look at 
our emerald-eyed guest.  Have you wondered why he is here, melethron 
vrûn?"

The Peredhel smiled, pleasant memories of the brief affair he and
Erestor had shared flooding his mind.  The Noldo had comforted Elrond
in the wake of Thranduil and it ended when Celeborn had sought Elrond
for his daughter.  "I figured he felt guilt of some kind, seron vell."

Erestor's cheeks colored slightly at the familiar term his Lord had
not used in centuries.  "You are right... somewhat.  He does feel
guilt, but I do not think that the guilt is the driving force behind
his trip here."

"Erestor, I am growing tired of this.  Either tell me or leave it."

"He still loves you, meleth.  It is visible every time he looks at
you, even though he avoids you as much as he can.  I am sure that is
so no one, especially you, notices the feelings he hides.  He perhaps
even hides them from himself.  But, they are there and they should be
addressed.  Perhaps," Erestor said as he stood, coming nose to nose
with his old lover, "it is time to allow the wounds to heal."

Elrond took a deep breath, inhaling Erestor's warm scent.  He always
loved the clean, spring scent that seemed to follow the Noldo
everywhere.  He could not resist.  The Elf-lord leaned in and let his
lips softly brush his Councilor's, enjoying the soft and warm lips he
had long ago ravished.  Erestor pulled back, bringing his hand to his
lips.

"Elrond, as much as you tempt me, this will not work.  It didn't work
then, it will not work now.  You love him.  You always have.  And he
does love you.  Now is the time.  Find out why he left you that long
ago, why he hurt you so deeply.  My heart has healed since you, my
Lord, and I do not wish to reopen that wound with no salve in sight."
Erestor let the hand that had touched his lips touch Elrond's cheek,
gently brushing as a nostalgic smile crossed his lips.

Then he was gone from the room.

*****

Elrond wove through the halls of his home, making his way to the guest
chamber Thanduil occupied at the moment.  The King had taken to
residing in his chambers unless forced to keep company with the
members of Elrond's family.  The words Erestor had said echoed through
his mind.  Aye, he loved Thranduil.  Always had.  But, Thranduil had
left him.

And Erestor had picked up the pieces.  He had given him reason not to
give up.  From the tone of Erestor's voice and the way he had lowered
his eyes as he left the study, Elrond knew he had to speak at length
with his friend.  He had hurt him much more than the Councilor had
ever let him know.  He needed to reconcile with him.  As soon as he
was done with Thranduil.

He knocked hard on the wooden door, breathing rapidly and trying to
calm his racing heart.  His breath caught in his throat when the door
opened and revealed Thanduil wearing leggings and a simple tunic.

"Elrond?"

"We need to talk."  He pushed past Thranduil and entered the main
chamber of the suite Thranduil had been given.  Elrond put his hands
on his hips and turned to face the bane of his life.

Thranduil closed the door and slowly approached the agitated Lord.
"What about, Elrond?"

"You and I, meldir.  It was... brought to my attention... that perhaps
there are unresolved feelings between us."

Thranduil sighed, crossing his arms.  "Erestor never could keep to
himself, could he?"

Lightning flashed in Elrond's eyes and his lowered his voice to a
hiss.  "Erestor cares more for me than you *ever* did, Thranduil."

"I am sure he does.  Tell me something, Lord Elrond.  Does Erestor
warm your bed on the days that Glorfindel is out riding and cannot do
it himself?"

Elrond advanced on the King, his eyes narrowing in menace.  "You
forget yourself, *Lord* Thranduil.  You are in Imladris.  You are *my*
guest.  You have no right to question what goes on in my bed or in my
lands.  Here, you show me the respect due my office and you *will* not
insult myself or those I consider my family!"

Taking a step toward Elrond, closing the gap between them, Thranduil
sneered.  "Well, my Lord, I see the benefits of being the Lord of
Imladris have increased significantly since last I visited."

"I should never have welcomed you into my home, Thranduil."

"Then why did you?"

"I thought that, perhaps, time and family had smoothed those rough
edges you always showed when you resided with me.  It was a mistake,
welcoming you, when all you have *ever* done is insult me!"

They were fuming.  They were angry.  Neither really knowing why.  So,
Thranduil did the only thing he could think to do at that moment,
staring into eyes stormy with contempt.  He grasped Elrond by his hair
and pulled him into an angry, fierce kiss.  Elrond's hands came up to
bury themselves into the King's mass of gold, opening his mouth to the
onslaught that was Thranduil.

But, as soon as the kiss began, it was over.  Thranduil pulled away
harshly and pushed Elrond from him.  His eyes cold, his tone sharp and
his movements cruel.  "Then your memory is fading, *peniaur*," he
spat, turning the endearment into an insult.  "Else you would remember
many other things that I have done.  Or perhaps, you are simply
confused; not knowing which acts to attribute to which of your
bedmates."  With that stinging statement, Thranduil stormed from the
guest chamber, leaving a stunned Elrond behind.

Thranduil, in a very veiled way, Elrond realized, had called him a
whore.

He hated Thranduil, no matter what Erestor thought.

*****

Glorfindel did one last round through the main house, making sure all
was well.  It was his duty to check all doors and to be sure everyone
was in their rooms or at the duties.  When he rounded the corner and
entered the hall that would led him to his room, he nearly died of
fright.

Walking slowly toward him was the Lord of the House.  He was barefoot,
wearing his white sleeping gown.  The proud Peredhel's hair was down
and looked mussed, as if he had just risen from his bed.  But his
eyes, Glorfindel noticed, his eyes were glazed and haunted.  His
cheeks had no color in them and he looked lost, ghostly.

Glorfindel stood in front of Elrond, speaking softly to him.  "My
Lord?"

Elrond blinked, coming back to himself.  "Glorfindel."

Glorfindel's heart wrenched.  Elrond's voice was flat and without the
usual richness and warmth.  He took his Lord's arm and gently steered
the lost Elf to his chambers, not wishing to navigate back to Elrond's
suite.  Once inside, Glorfindel sat Elrond on the bed and lit a lamp.
He excused himself for a moment and went into his dressing room,
changing from his uniform into a sleeping robe.

He reentered the bedroom and sat beside Elrond, taking his friend's
hand.

"Could you not sleep, meldir?"

Elrond shook his head.  He turned his head and looked at his friend,
someone he had known for so long and considered his own family.  The 
deep blue eyes were so full of compassion and understanding and Elrond 
felt himself open up to the Noldo.

"Thranduil and I met in Lindon.  Oropher immediately disapproved of
his relationship with me and made our lives as difficult as he could.
We spent just over two centuries in Lindon together, and then Oropher
left for Mirkwood, taking my love with him.  It was... difficult.  We
rarely saw one another until we founded Imladris.  Then he spent
winters here every year.  I could not visit him in Mirkwood; Oropher
made it clear I was not welcome in his kingdom."

Glorfindel listened to the story, feeling honored that Elrond trusted
him.  Although he had lived with his Lord during the time he spoke, 
Glorfindel was often in Lothlorien with Amroth and his people.  

"Things were fine, Glorfindel; perfect, even.  As perfect as one
could hope for with an overbearing father who refused to allow us
to bind to one another in hopes of marrying off Thranduil to
forge some alliance in the future.  Then, one night I entered my room 
and found him on my bed.  He had showed up, out of the blue in the 
middle of spring, to surprise me.  When we lay together that night, 
though, there was a distance I had never felt before."  He looked back 
up into Glorfindel's eyes.  "We had been together for twenty-six 
hundred years, Glorfindel.  I had never sensed any kind of coldness 
from him, but that night... and every night after, his heart was not 
with me.

"We were together for a few more years, but he only came to Imladris
twice before we went to war.  The Winter Solstice in 3028 of the
Second Age was the last night we spent together.  He left at dawn the
following morning and I did not see him again until the end of the
Battle of Dagorlad.

"He came to my tent.  You remember, his father had fallen in the 
siege.  Well, so had most of Mirkwood's army.  Thranduil and about a 
third of them were left.  I thought he had come to me for comfort, and 
I was ready to give it to him.  I reached out for him... but he... 
knocked my hand away."  Tears glistened in Elrond's eyes, his gaze 
lost to his memories.  Glorfindel gripped his hand harder, willing his 
strength into his friend.  "He told me it was over.  His father had 
been right.  He... called me names and yelled and screamed at me.  I 
cannot remember everything he said, and I think that forgetting is a 
blessing.  When he was done he simply left.  He took his company and 
left us all to face Sauron."

Elrond sighed and closed his eyes, and Glorfindel thought the tale
over.  He opened his mouth to speak, but quickly shut it once Elrond
continued with his tale.

"I didn't have time to think on it.  It felt as if my heart was ripped
in two, that half of my soul had been shorn from me.  But, we had to
fight.  We had to win.  And we did.

"Remember, we all returned to Imladris after Gil-Galad fell and the
force of Sauron was defeated.  I still remember you, Erestor and 
Haldir riding up, dirty, tired and yet still laughing with one 
another.  Thranduil sent me only one letter and that was to... berate 
me, I suppose, on my decision regarding Isildur and the Ring.  He 
blamed me for his father's death, and the deaths of many of his close 
friends.  He was angry, felt they had all died in vain just so a Man 
could possess the Ring.  I fell to pieces.  I was already wracked with 
guilt over so many of my actions, and to think my love blamed me for 
the death of his own father...

"Even with Vilya, I did not wish to rule Imladris.  I just wanted to
fade.  But, Erestor did not allow me to.  He held me here, loved me.
He shared my bed and my life for almost a century.  I know most in 
Imladris knew of the relationship, just as they knew of yours with 
Haldir at the time.  Nothing is quite a secret here, is it?  I am sure 
it was hard for him, knowing I could never love him as he wanted me 
to.  When Celeborn came to me with the offer if I wed his daughter, 
Erestor urged me to accept.  He said that I needed children and that 
he understood why the Lord and his Lady were offering their daughter.  
She was a worthy mate, and so I accepted.  And that is the end of the 
tale, meldir.  Erestor has stood by me ever since, his loyalty never 
waivering and Thranduil has ignored my existance and the existance of 
Imladris for years untold.  This has served us all well...

"Until today...  Oh, today has been a trial for me.  Erestor came to 
my study to tell me he thought Thranduil was here because he loved me.
Hope rose in my chest.  I could forgive him, Glorfindel.  I just
wanted to know why he was so angry with me.  I kissed Erestor...  I
could not help myself.  He refused me, though, as kindly as he could.
He mentioned, with such heartbreak, that his wounded heart had
healed from me and he did not want to relive it.  I wanted to pull him
to me and tell him I did love him and always had, but how sorry I was
that it was not enough for him or I.

"So, I sought out Thranduil to finally clear the air."  Elrond laughed
bitterly and swiped at his face.  Glorfindel realized the Half-Elf was
shedding tears.  In all the centuries Glorfindel had known his Lord,
he had never seen his eyes tear -- not even when Celebrian sailed.
"We cleared the air, all right.  He accused me of bedding both you and
Erestor.  Accused me of being everything but a whore.  And he left,
once again."

Elrond's large, grey eyes turned to Glorfindel and the Elda's heart
broke at the sight.  Tears fell slowly down ashen cheeks, his lip
quivered with the pressure of holding back his sobs.  Glorfindel
embraced Elrond then, holding his dear friend close to him.

Elrond cried then, as he had not done since Erestor held him like this
so many years ago after Thranduil had deserted him.  "Why?" he sobbed.
"I have wronged Thranduil in some horrible way.  The only argument we
ever had was over his father and him standing in the way of our
future.  And when that father died and nothing stood in our way, he
left!  Then I used poor Erestor to ease my pain, then Celebrian to 
breed heirs!  Perhaps Thranduil is right."

Glorfindel shook his head, anger barely contained in his breast. 
"Nay, Elrond, he is not.  You need to rest, meldir."  Glorfindel 
walked over to his chest and pulled out a small phial.  He brought it 
and a glass of wine back to the bed.  "Drink this," he said, offering 
the phial to his Lord.  Once Elrond had swallowed the bitter liquid, 
Glorfindel offered him some wine.

Within minutes, Elrond's eyes began to glaze over and Glorfindel
slipped him under his own bedsheets, tucking him in and lowering the
lamp so darkness filled the room.

With his blue eyes flashing, Glorfindel strapped on his quiver and
grabbed his bow, exiting his room with one backward glance to the
Half-Elf sleeping soundly in his bed.

Thranduil needed to be taught a lesson.

It was only when he stood outside Thranduil's room that he thought how
he must look.  His quiver was strapped over his indigo sleeping robe,
his hair loose and flowing.  He probably looked like some avenging
spirit.  Which is what he felt like.  He silently stole into
Thranduil's room through the open terrace door.  He padded to the bed
where the sleeping King lay and drew and arrow from his quiver.  He
nocked it and pulled back on the taut string, leveling the tip of the
arrow at Thranduil's throat.

Glorfindel watched the sleep glazed eyes slowly come back to awareness
when Thranduil realized someone was standing over him.  "I would not
move quickly, Thranduil, or I may just become jumpy and let my arrow
loose too soon."

Thranduil's eyes widened as he looked up at the blond Noldo.  He
opened his mouth to speak, but Glorfindel cut him off.  "No, King, I
don't want to hear your threats or insults.  I should simply kill you
now, be a kinslayer as well as a Balrog-slayer.  But, it is because of
Lord Elrond Peredhel that my hand stills and I do not cut you down
where you lay."  He slowly eased the tension in the bowstring and
replaced the arrow.  "It is because of him you live, Thranduil.  And
only because of him."

Glorfindel turned on his heel and left through the door, slamming it
as he closed the door.  He quickly returned to his own chambers,
sliding the bolt home before removing his weapon.  Letting out a slow
breath, Glorfindel made his way to the bed, slipping in beside his
friend under the sheets.  Elrond turned to him in his sleep and
nuzzled up to Glorfindel.  The Elf wrapped his arms protectively
around his charge and allowed sleep to take him.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Elrond came slowly back to awareness.  He knew immediately he was not
in his bed in his chambers.  He sat up quickly, then held his head in
his hands as a wave of dizziness washed over him.

"My Lord, you should not sit up so quickly."  He raised his eyes and
found himself looking into those bottomless black eyes of his
Councilor.  A soft smile graced the usually emotionless face and he
was offered a warm mug.  "Drink this, Elrond.  It will help ease the
headache.  Glorfindel said he had to give you something to help you
sleep, but it always leaves a terrible headache in its wake."

Erestor stood up and Elrond watched him go to the vanity in
Glorfindel's room, he now remembered that was where he was, and
retrieve some clothing, a comb and his hair clip.  Elrond sipped the
warm, sweet liquid, his eyes never leaving the graceful form of
Erestor.

Erestor left the room for the bathing room and Elrond knew his friend
was preparing a bath for him.  "Erestor?" he called out.

"My Lord?" was the muffled reply.

Elrond stood from the bed, placing the mug on the side table.  On
unsure legs he crossed the small distance to the small chamber Erestor
was in.  Erestor was indeed preparing him a bath and Elrond blushed in
shame.  He should not be doing this, his friend was not his keeper and
had other duties to attend.

"I have wronged you, meldir."

Erestor looked up from the floor at the stricken face of his friend.
His face screwed up in an expression of confusion.  "Wronged me,
Elrond?  How did you come to that conclusion?"  In one swift, fluid
movement, Erestor went from kneeling by the sunken basin of the tub to
standing in front of the Lord.

"I took your love when I needed it and discarded it when it no longer
suited my needs.  I was so wrong and I hurt you more than I ever
allowed myself to notice."

Erestor smiled again.  "You took nothing.  I freely gave what you
think you took.  I knew all along, Elrond.  I just had hope, that was
all.  It was my own foolishness that hurt me.  And it was so long ago,
meldir, you should not dwell on it now.  That century was one of the
happiest in my long life, and I would not trade it for less 
heartache."

Elrond reached out to him then, pulling him into a tight embrace.  "I
do love you, Erestor.  I always did."

Erestor pulled back slightly and brushed some tangles from Elrond's
face.  "I know, meleth.  I know."

The Peredhel leaned in and gently placed his lips on Erestor's in a
simple gesture of love.  This time, Erestor did not shrink away, he
allowed Elrond to find a small amount of solace and warmth in the love
he offered.

Elrond broke the kiss and smiled at his friend.  "Thank you."

The Councilor nodded and helped Elrond out of his sleeping robe then
gave him a gentle push toward the tub.  "Wash, my Lord.  I will wait
in the other room."

He nodded and watched Erestor leave the warm, steamy room.  His heart
felt a little lighter after his attempt at mending a break he had not
known he had caused.  The water eased the tension in his muscles and
the ache in his head was slowly receding.

Aye, he did feel better now.

*****

He and Erestor entered the library, talking quietly about the goings-
on in the house and the plans for the remaining winter months.
Elrond stopped short, though, when he saw Thranduil standing near the
fireplace in the vast room.  Erestor took his hand, squeezing gently
behind the folds of their robes.  He went to leave, but Elrond did not
release the hand.  He needed strength, and no matter how wrong it was
to draw from Erestor, he could not be alone with the Sindarin Elf.
He lifted his chin defiantly and narrowed his eyes.

"Can we help you, King Thranduil?"

"Aye, I think you can, Lord Elrond."  His frosty gaze fell first on
Erestor then on Elrond.  "You can tell that insane Elf you have chosen
for your Seneschal that the next time he takes it upon himself to
simply enter my room in the dead of night and threaten my life, I will
not be held responsible for the consequences."

Elrond tilted his head a little, confusion clouding his eyes.  Erestor
leaned over and whispered something into the Peredhel's ear.  Elrond's
eyes widened and he bit the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing
out loud.  So, his dear friend felt he had to defend his Lord's honor.
He must remember to thank the blond Elf when he returned from
checking the borders.

"Thranduil," he said softly, "I do not dictate to my Seneschal what he
should and should not do to defend what he feels needs defending.  I
find he is far more effective with little inference from myself.  I
would suggest that next time you find yourself on the receiving end of
his wrath that you behave yourself.  For *I* will not be held
responsible for the consequences should you decide to test the limits
of his patience."

Elrond released Erestor's hand and for once, he walked out on
Thranduil.

Erestor crossed his arms and watched his friend leave the room, a
sense of smug righteousness enveloping him.  Thranduil deserved more
than some terse words from Elrond and the King should consider himself
lucky Glorfindel had not killed him.  He turned to leave himself when
Thranduil's voice stopped him.

"You always were a problem, Erestor.  Following him as if he could not
exist without your presence in his life.  Drove me mad millennia ago,
drives me mad now.  Most Elves change some as time passes us by, but
you still pine after him as if he will ever turn his eye to you."

Erestor met the jealous gaze with a vicious one of his own.  He was
usually very composed and quiet, but Thranduil had always brought out
the worst in him.  "Thranduil, you have *no* idea what you have done
or continue to do!  You do not know Elrond, Glorfindel or myself as
you seem to think you do.  It would be wise, *King*," he spat at the
Elf, "if you simply left the three of us alone and stopped with your
outlandish accusations on Elrond's honor."

He stepped slowly and purposefully toward Thranduil, like a stalking
cat.  His eyes glittered in the light on the library, anger rolling
off him in waves.  "As for him turning his eye to me, you son of an
Orc, he did that thousands of years ago.  When you left him, broke his
spirit because of your idiotic notion that he was responsible
for Oropher's death, *I* was there.  *I* picked up the pieces.  *I*
loved him when he wanted to simply fade.  It was *me* who warmed his
bed and heart while you sulked in Mirkwood.  I have changed, dear
King.  When he wed Celebrian, I was set free from him.  But, his pure
and bright love had changed me.  It's a shame that what could change
me in a mere century could do nothing to alter your personality after
spending over two thousand years with him.

"I pity you, Thranduil.  I cherished every moment I shared with him.
I loved him with all I was, hoping that I could make him forget you
and your cold eyes.  But," he said softly, backing off the King, "I
couldn't.  He loved you.  He could not love me, he could not love
Celebrian.  I lay the blame for his lukewarm happiness through all
these years at your door, Thranduil.  So, don't you *dare* try and
pass judgement on me, King of Mirkwood.  I basked in the radiance that
is Elrond and I remained by his side all these years.  You... you have
been obscured in Shadow, hiding yourself from that light.  And I pity
you."

Erestor walked out on the King then, his anger still boiling in him.
He needed to be far away from this Elf who caused him to remember what
hurt his heart so, to be faced with someone so blind and selfish that
he would cut off his nose to spite his face.

The King of Mirkwood was an idiot.  Plain and simple.  Erestor decided
Elrond was better off hating his former lover.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*

The cold winds blew through the open gables and halls of the Last
Homely House.  The late January snow fell soundlessly to the ground.
Thranduil looked out from his terrace, sipping the mulled wine and
thinking back to past mistakes and all his regrets.  He had spent the
last three weeks in his chambers, leaving only when he knew the three
Lords he was avoiding would not be where he was.

Erestor's words had stung.  They rang with truth.  He thought that was
really why he had always disliked Erestor, the Elf always spoke the
truth.  Whether you wanted to hear it or not, he presented it to you.
Sighing and turning from the cold scene in front of him, he thought on
the dark-eyed enigma that was Erestor.  The Noldo did have his
respect, he found his negotiating skills and his ability to read
people an asset to Imladris.

But, those same skills were what had pinned him down and laid bare his
sins.  Even if it was just the two of them in that library, it still
ached to be reminded.

He needed to speak with Elrond.  They needed to finally have it all
out, to show their cards, and let the past be buried.  He needed the
past to be left behind, the ghosts were slowly killing him.  Thranduil
wrapped his cloak around his shoulders, swiftly walking through the
dim twilight of the halls to Elrond's chambers.  He rapped sharply on
the door, shifting from foot to foot impatiently.

The latch gave way and the door opened to him.  Elrond blinked
blearily at him.  It was obvious the Lord had been laying down, his
red robes were rumpled and his hair was slightly mussed.  "Elrond, I
would like to talk with you."

Elrond regarded him warily, then nodded, inviting him into the warmth
of the main chamber in his bedroom suite.  He motioned to a set of
chairs near the fire, and Thranduil sat heavily in one.

"Would you like something to drink, my Lord?"  Elrond motioned to the
small pot near the fire filled with sweet mulled cider.  When
Thranduil nodded, Elrond prepared two mugs, handing one to Thranduil
and sipping at the other while seating himself.  Elrond crossed his
legs and watched the Mirkwood Elf from hooded eyes.  "What do you
want, Thranduil?  You have been content enough to leave us alone and
we have left you alone.  Just a few more weeks and the snows will melt
and you can leave this cursed valley behind.  Why seek me out?
Prolong my torment?  Add to your amusement?"

Thranduil sighed.  He hadn't thought this would be easy.  "I wanted
to talk to you about the past, Elrond."

The Half-Elf placed his mug on the side table and laced his fingers
together.  "The past?  Hmm... all right.  I will humor you.  What
about the past?"

"Let's start with my love for you."

"Your love?  I believe your love was always based on your father's
opinion."

Thranduil's eyes narrowed.  "I did love you.  I wanted to bind myself
to you."

Elrond sat forward in his seat.  "But you never did."

"I was going to."

"When?"

This time Thranduil sat forward, staring into the depths of eyes that
had haunted him for an age.  "The night that I surprised you.  In that
bed beyond this room.  I sat there waiting for you for an hour.  I was
going to tell you that I did not care what my father thought, I loved
you and I couldn't imagine my life without you."

Silence settled on the couple as Elrond took in this information.
Thranduil had wanted to... but he hadn't.  "You never said anything.
And after that night, nothing was the same between us."

Eyes as cold as jade flashed at him.  "Of course I didn't say
anything.  I found you in the arms of another.  I no longer wanted to
spend an eternity with someone who would betray me."

Elrond gasped.  "Betray you?  Has your memory been affected so by
time, Thranduil?  I was *never* with anyone else!"  Elrond stood up,
glaring down at the King.  "Would you mind informing me just *who*
it was I was betraying you with?"

"I saw you!"  Thranduil rose to his feet, meeting the angry gaze with
one of his own.  "You and Gil-Galad, Elrond!  In each other's arms
outside your door!"

Elrond's lip lifted in disgust.  "You think I threw you over for my
King?  Are you insane?!  Did you have so little faith in me?  Of
course you did!  Why else would we be having this discussion?!"

"I saw what I saw, Elrond!"

Elrond's voice was laced with barely controlled anger.  "Then you saw
*wrong*, Thranduil.  How dare you not even *ask* me about it?!  You
let me believe all was well for several years after that incident!
You *lied* to me that entire time!"

Thranduil's eyes widened, then narrowed.  He hissed through clenched
teeth, "I have *never* lied to you!  My feelings for you never changed
despite the hurt I felt at your indiscretion!"

"There was no indiscretion!"  Elrond threw his hands up and walked to
the mantle, leaning against it with his head resting in his hands.  He
tried to regain some measure of control over his emotions.  To his
credit, only a slight tremble remained in his voice as he said,
without looking up, "Why are you here, Thranduil?  To throw your very
late accusations at me?  To kick me while I am down?"

"I am here," Thranduil spat, "because I was foolish enough to think
that you might accept such comfort as I was able to offer you in your
time of grief!"

"If I wronged you so badly all those centuries ago, why should I
believe that you would offer me *anything* but derision and ridicule?"

"Because, you miserable excuse for a horse's arse, I love you!  Is
that so hard to understand?"  Thranduil was shouting at the top of his
lungs, not caring if the entire host of Imladris could hear him.  "I
never stopped loving you!  Not when I saw you in Gil-Galad's arms!
Not when you wed Celebrian!  Not then -- and not now!"

Elrond slowly turned to face Thranduil, amazed at what he was hearing.
Tone notwithstanding, was the Mirkwood King professing his love after
all this time?  He could only stare; his heart was pounding in his
ears, and his lips refused to form words.

Thranduil, meanwhile, took Elrond's silence as mistrust and suspicion.
"But you're right," he finally conceded.  "What reason do you have to
believe me?  I'm just an insane liar, right?"  He turned and began to
storm out of the room.

"Oh, no you don't!" Elrond yelled, rushing after him.  He grabbed
Thranduil by the arm and spun the King around to face him.  Toe to toe
and eye to eye, Elrond refused to back down this time.  "Thranduil,
you proud, spiteful son of an Orc, did it ever occur to you that I
never stopped loving you, either?!  Did you consider that even though
you broke my heart when you left that I still never gave it to
another?!  I went to Erestor for comfort, Celebrian for heirs, and
Glorfindel for companionship.  But my love was ever yours!"

Elrond punctuated the statement by wrenching Thranduil's body close
and crushing his lips with a forceful kiss as full of anger as it was
of love.  When at last he pulled back, he added his final words on the
matter.  "And it still is.  If you want it, it will be waiting with me
in the next room."  He released Thranduil and walked into his
bedchambers, pushing the door not-quite-closed behind him.

Elrond didn't have to wait long for an answer.  Only a few moments had
passed when the door swung inward and Thranduil's tall, lithe form
filled the doorway.  Neither spoke a word; none were necessary.
Thranduil walked in and closed the door.  Elrond was lounging on the
bed, bathed in the soft candlelight.  He was naked save for a thin
dressing gown that did little to hide his body.  Never taking his eyes
from Elrond, Thranduil slipped out of his clothes as well, standing
gloriously nude before the Peredhel.

Thranduil approached the bed and accepted Elrond's outstretched hand.
The dark-haired Elf eased Thranduil down beside him and leaned in for
another kiss.  This one was tender, loving, and very much
reciprocated.  When their mouths opened and their tongues began to
pleasantly grapple with each other, it was easy to forget all the time
that had passed; easy to forget the hurt and distance; easy to forget
they'd parted at all.

Elrond slipped out of the dressing gown with a little assistance from
Thranduil.  The King ran his calloused hands over Elrond's chest
before leaning down and kissing the hollow of Elrond's throat.  He
trailed featherlight kisses down Elrond's chest and stomach, turning
his body as he moved down so that his head was down by the foot of the
bed.  He felt Elrond's hands caressing his thighs and hips as he
leaned over and pressed his lips against the tip of Elrond's erect
member.

The Lord of Imladris turned onto his side, inhaling sharply when
Thranduil opened his mouth and pulled Elrond's shaft inside it.
Elrond wrapped his arms around Thranduil's hips and caressed his
behind as he returned the gesture, bringing his lips down around
Thranduil's erection.  The Mirkwood Elf moaned, sending shivers
through Elrond's body.  Elrond moved his mouth over Thranduil's cock
in quick, short thrusts; Thranduil, meanwhile, preferred to make
studious use of his tongue along the length of Elrond's rod, or suck
on the head while stroking the shaft with his hand.  Elrond was using
his hands to massage Thranduil's smooth sac and tease the taut skin
behind it when he heard Thranduil's voice.

"I don't suppose," he began, a little hoarse, "that you still keep a
phial of that oil by your bedside?"

Elrond smiled, slightly embarrassed.  "I, um, put one here the day
after you arrived.  Just in case."  He started to move to retrieve it,
but Thranduil laid a hand on his chest.

"Nay, you just lay there, meldir.  I want to show you something."
Thranduil got the phial and removed the stopper.  He tipped the bottle
and poured a small stream of the oil onto Elrond's swollen cock.
After replacing the phial, he wrapped his fingers around the shaft and
stroked, making sure that the entire length shimmered in the dim
light.  Thranduil then sat astride Elrond's hips and reached behind
him to guide Elrond's well-lubricated erection into his tight passage.

Elrond moaned in surprise and pleasure, looking up at Thranduil.
"Where did you learn that?" he gasped out.

"You were not my last male lover, either, Elrond," Thranduil grinned,
placing his hands on Elrond's chest as he began to bounce on the balls
of his feet.  He moved up and down in slow, shallow thrusts, looking
down into Elrond's eyes the entire time.

Elrond slid his hands up Thranduil's arms, then down his sides, across
his thighs, and back to his arms, losing himself in the sensations of
this new position.  As it had been the last time they were together
those centuries ago, Thranduil was in complete control of Elrond's
pleasure.  And just as he was then, Elrond was enraptured by it.

Thranduil sat up more fully, moving his weight back onto his knees.
The motion drove Elrond's arousal deeper into Thranduil, burying it
completely into the King's rear passage.  Elrond cried out at the
suddenness of the gesture.  The cries quickly turned to moans,
however, as Thranduil began to gently rock back and forth.  Elrond
reached out and took Thranduil's member in his hand and stroked it
furiously, causing Thranduil to groan low in his throat.

It did not take long at all for Elrond to begin to feel the stirrings
of orgasm.  He reflexively clenched, inadvertently squeezing
Thranduil's cock and causing his old lover to wince.  Thranduil only
smiled as he gently removed Elrond's hand and replaced it with his
own, working his rod in time with his motions on Elrond.  Elrond's
moans grew in intensity with each motion, and the sight of Thranduil
masturbating above him was nothing short of breathtaking.

After what felt like an eternity of anticipation but was still over
too soon, Elrond moaned loud, long, and low as his body jerked, and he
fired his seed deep into Thranduil.  The feeling sent Thranduil over 
the edge as well, sending his fluids spurting onto Elrond's stomach 
and chest with an enormous groan of release.

Thranduil eased himself off of Elrond and left the bed, grabbing his
tunic from the floor to clean himself with.  He then got back onto the
bed beside Elrond and kissed the Peredhel sweetly as he wiped off
Elrond's chest and groin.  They would both need thorough cleanings in
the morning, but neither of them cared about that now.

Elrond doused the candles and settled back into the bed, feeling
Thranduil's comforting weight curling beside him.  The room was silent
for several minutes.  Then, Thranduil spoke.

"Elrond?  What *exactly* just happened, and what does it mean?"

Elrond did not hesitate to answer.  "What just happened was our
relationship returning from the Halls of Waiting.  And it means we
have a *very* long talk ahead of us."

*~*~*~*~*~*~*

The warm spring breeze swept Elrond's robes around his legs and his
hair flew in his face.  He felt laughter bubble in his chest.  It had
been so long since he felt so complete, so happy.  The stable hand
brought the large bay stallion into the courtyard, the saddlebags and
tack already strapped onto his back.

Behind the Lord of Imladris stood his family: Erestor and Glorfindel
to his right, Elladan and Elrohir to his left.  The golden haired
Sinda, who had been standing beside the Peredhel, walked to his mount.
He was trying to not feel so lost, leaving just as he had found his
heart again.  It was not a permanent departure.  His lover would
arrive in his kingdom next fall and stay with him for the winter.  It
still meant he had to spend three seasons alone.

Elrond placed his hand on Thranduil's hip.  When Thranduil turned
around his breath caught in his throat at the sight of the Lord.  Grey
eyes were brimming with unshed tears, but shimmering with deep love.
They had been lovers for just under two months, but to the King of
Mirkwood, it seemed just a heartbeat's worth of time.

Leaning in he brought Elrond's warm, petal-soft lips to his.  His
lover's lips parted and allowed him access one last time before he
rode off for home.  The kiss was slow and sweet, but all too soon it
came to an end and Elrond pulled back.  Elrond lifted his hand and
cupped Thranduil's cheek, smiling up at him.

"Three seasons will pass quickly, meleth."

Thranduil simply nodded, embracing the Half-Elf quickly and then
mounting his horse.  He reached down, took Elrond's hand, and opened
his mouth to speak.  "I lo-"

Elrond shook his head, silencing him.  He knew what Thranduil was
about to say, and he did not want to hear it.  He spoke softly and
gently to his lover.  "Not yet.  Give us time, Thranduil.  Give *me*
time.  We have the life of Arda to speak those words.  Ride home to
your children and rest assured my heart is yours and I will arrive in
Mirkwood before the first snowfall."

Thranduil regarded the Lord and nodded, smiling softly at him.  Elrond
squeezed his hand tightly then released it.  He turned from Thranduil
and joined his family on the main front stairs to the Last Homely
House.  In the early morning spring light, Thranduil Orophorion, King
of Mirkwood and holder of Elrond's heart, lifted his hand in farewell
and rode out of the blessed valley of Rivendell.

End "Thought You Were History"

Elvish/English translations:
Peniaur - Ancient One
Mellonen vrûn - My old friend
Mellonen - My friend
Gurthelle - Little death
Melethron vrûn - My old lover

Completed: 10/05/2003
Revised: 11/23/2003

---

Series: The Color of Love Trilogy
Title: The Song and the Meaning
Author: Orchyd Constyne
Contact: orchydconstyne@hamena.org
Fandom: LOTR
Archive: Any, so long as I know where it is  ^^
Rating: NC-17
Beta: Silvara, the most wonderful beta in existence...
Cast: Glorfindel/Erestor, Elladan/Elrohir implied, mention of
Elrond/Thranduil
Timeline: Winter of 2511 TA
Spoilers:  None
Summary: Three seasons have passed and Elrond has left the running
Imladris to his two most trusted friends while he visits his lover in
Mirkwood.  Since the previous year, Glorfindel has noticed Erestor's
distance and glimpses moments of deep sadness in the usual calm,
indifferent eyes of his friend.  He finds he wishes to discover the
heart of the pain Erestor hides and help ease the burden.
A/N: I had originally only wanted to write "Thought You Were History"
-- but after introducing the characters and leaving Erestor so
distraught in it, I had to write this middle fic, giving him an
opportunity at finding the love he missed millennia before.

---

Erestor reviewed his guest list for the fourth time that evening -- or
was it morning already?  Most of the guests had sent their
confirmation.  This was the first time in all his years in Imladris,
which was considerable, that he was in charge of the preparations for
the Winter Solstice celebration.  Well, co-in charge.  Although, his
partner in this endeavor had not been the most helpful.  Elrond had
left the month before, in October, for Mirkwood, his first visit to
the Woodland kingdom.  Thranduil would come next year, but this year
was Elrond's turn to visit his lover.  Because of his visit to
Mirkwood, Erestor and Glorfindel were now responsible for the day-to-
day running of The Last Homely House... and the major celebration
that would occur in three weeks.

"Glorfindel, I want you to make sure the kitchen has an adequate
supply of food for the festival."  Erestor checked his numbers and
quickly marked how much of each food he wished to be available at the
dinner.

Glorfindel, who was laid across the couch and watching the dark-haired
Noldo with amusement, rolled his eyes.  "Erestor, please.  No matter
how much food you plan for per guest, we will run low.  We always do.
Just make sure there is enough wine and ale and all will be well!"

Erestor looked up, his eyes cold and annoyed.  "I do not want this
celebration to turn into an evening at a Dwarvish tavern or have so
much food that the guests mistake it for a Halfling gathering instead
of an Elvish holiday."

"Hey now!  I've had some very enjoyable evenings in Dwarvish taverns
and Halfling gatherings!"  Glorfindel sat up, his sky-blue eyes
laughing at the miffed Councilor.

Erestor leveled his gaze with the Elda.  "Unfortunately, not all our
guests aspire to the high levels of tolerance that you have achieved."

Glorfindel stood and stretched, sighing heavily.  "More's the pity,
dear Erestor.  If only all of those in Arda strove to be in my
image..."

The Councilor returned to his papers.  "Oh, is *that* a frightening
image."

Glorfindel smiled wistfully at the Elf.  "Get some rest, Erestor.
Everything will still be here in the morning.  Staying up isn't doing
you -- or our potential guests -- any good at all."

"Perhaps you're right.  As riveting as your company is, I do think
some sleep would be helpful.  I will see you tomorrow."  Erestor 
stood up andwalked purposefully toward his chambers, leaving 
Glorfindel alone with his thoughts.

Those thoughts caused his brow to furrow.  Erestor's demeanor had
changed over the last nine or so months.  He had begun to change while
Thranduil had been in residence.  Aye, the Councilor was usually
withdrawn and distant, but he had become cold and aloof to everyone.
Including the family who had adopted him.  Erestor rarely spent time
with the twins and he almost never spoke to Elrond unless he had to.
He had taken to only talking to Glorfindel lately since they were
responsible for the grounds of Imladris and its inhabitants.

Glorfindel went around the room snuffing the various candles and lamps
while reflecting on his cunning adversary.  He respected Erestor.  He
admired him.  He had known the Noldo as long as he had known Elrond.
He had met them both upon his arrival in Lindon over four thousand
years ago.  Erestor had been as much an enigma then as he was now.
The facets of his personality intrigued the Balrog-slayer, and he had
set out immediately to befriend the quiet Councilor.  It had not taken
long; the two of them fell quickly into sarcastic and sometimes vulgar
banter.  The vulgar teasing had surprised Glorfindel the first time,
but he had enjoyed it every time thereafter.

Glorfindel made his way to his chambers, coming to a stop outside
Erestor's rooms next door.  Before, he would not have felt
intimidated; he would have simply knocked on the door and teased the
Noldo.  But, over the last few months, the blond Elf had watched his
friend slowly withdraw and the banter they used to share slip into
little more than pleasantries and banality.  Glorfindel worried about
his friend, and he raised his fist to knock.  After a moment's
hesitation, though, he lowered his hand.  Erestor was his friend, not
his lover, and the Elda had no real right to pry into his affairs.
If Erestor wanted to confide in him, he would.  Until then, Glorfindel
would have to wait.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Erestor paced frantically, wringing his hands with anxiety.  He was
panicking.  Well, it was more like a controlled panic than a
pulling-the-hair-out panic.  Elrond was going to be furious.  The
first time he left them to take care of Imladris and everything was
going wrong.  Everything.

When he turned to begin pacing back toward the library door, he almost
ran into Elrond's Seneschal.

"Glorfindel!" he cried.

"Erestor!" smirked the Elda.

Erestor's eyes narrowed.  "I do not have time for your jokes,
Glorfindel."

Erestor resumed his pacing, trying to figure out a solution to his
current dilemma.  Glorfindel took his usual seat on the couch under
one of the large windows and regarded him with veiled amusement.

"What is the tragic mishap today, Erestor?"

The dark-haired Elf glared at his friend.  "Tragic mishap?  I'll tell
you.  Because Lord Elrond decides to employ humans for the winter
season -- in some fit of madness, I assure you -- we are now down half
the kitchen staff a week before the celebration!  They've all gotten
sick!  Can you believe it?!  Sick!"

"Well, my dear Councilor, if they've had you breathing down their
necks, I can't say I am surprised."

"It's not me!  The Healers tell me it's some fevery, chilled,
stomach... thing!"  He threw his hands up in frustration.  "And!
Listen to this!  The head of the kitchen staff?  She decided to have
her baby today!  The Healers placed her on bedrest until she has her
baby!"

"Erestor.  They are Men.  They get sick.  You've been working them as
if they were Elves, and they are not."  Glorfindel stood up and
approached the agitated Elf.  "And Idhreneth should be resting.  I'm
surprised she has worked as long as she has.  She's done so for *you*.
She deserves a break!"

"What... are we supposed to do?"

Glorfindel wrapped his arms around the Noldo, pulling him into a tight
embrace.  Erestor immediately stiffened, not used to being in such
close proximity of his friend.  "You, my friend, need to calm down.
We have weathered much worse than a sick kitchen staff and a new
mother.  It will not be the end of an Age if this celebration is not
the finest ever held in the Last Homely House."

Erestor stuttered.  "But... but..."

"Shh, but nothing, Erestor.  I will assist the kitchen staff.
Idhreneth's second is more than capable of leding the remaining
staff.  With my assistance, I am sure all will be well."

Glorfindel could feel the rigidness of the one he held in his arms.
The embrace was not having the desired effect.  "Now, dear friend, go
and take a long, warm bath and relax some.  Everything is in my very
capable hands."  He pulled back and walked to the desk where Erestor's
lists and tallies were resting.  "Elrond does this every year." 
Glorfindel glanced up at the pensive figure in dark robes, flashing
him a devastating smile.  "How hard can it be?"

Erestor let out a long sigh and nodded, turning from the blond Elf
and heading for his rooms.  "Famous last words," he muttered as he
walked out the door.

*****

Erestor sat in the hot water, his eyes unfocused and his thoughts
spinning out of his control.  Glorfindel had never really touched him,
never invaded his personal space.  In fact, thought Erestor, he could
not recall a time that the Elda had placed a hand on him at all.

It puzzled him.  Glorfindel's touch had caused his heart to flutter,
he had felt his cheeks color.  He had not felt anything like that
since Elrond had been his lover.  If he were honest, he had not given
anyone the opportunity to cause those reactions in him.  After Elrond
had wed Celebrian, Erestor chose not to pursue a relationship.  His
heart had ached with the loss of his lover.  Oh, he had known Elrond
would not keep him around forever, but when the end of that intimacy
had occurred it had placed a permanent chill in his heart.  He worried
now that Glorfindel had somehow squeezed his way past the walls he had
spent centuries perfecting.

The Noldo scrubbed at his skin, mulling over his emotions.  It could
just be all the stress.  It could be that he still hurt over the
reappearance of Thranduil last winter.  It had awakened old memories
he wished not to revisit.  He had never felt anything for the Balrog-
slayer.  In fact, when Glorfindel had first come to Imladris, Erestor
had avoided him at all costs.  The Elf drove him insane with his
quirky sense of humor.  But, after a few decades, he had grown on
Erestor.  Kind of like foot-rot, he mused.  They had a good
friendship, entertaining banter, and he was loath to change it.

It was comfortable.  And comfort was important to Erestor.  Nay, he
did not desire Glorfindel.  It was simply stress.  Not only was he not
Erestor's type of lover, but the blond Elf had been with just about
every Elf in Imladris.  He sometimes wondered if the Seneschal had
bedded Elrond's sons at some point.  He knew Elrond had not been a
partner to Glorfindel; Erestor often joked with his Lord that they
were the only two Glorfindel couldn't have.  And now...  Now he was
wondering about the prowess of his friend of many millennia.

Erestor shook his head.  He would not simply be another conquest for
his friend.  After all, once the festival was over, everything would
return to normal.  He would simply be Elrond's Councilor once again
and he could put behind him this lapse in his sanity.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Glorfindel placed the four loaves of sweet bread on the counter to
cool.  He was quite proud of himself.  He had spent a few days with
the remaining kitchen staff and acquainted himself with the menu
Erestor had chosen.  Since the Solstice was in three days, it was
time to prepare the breads and roast the meats that would be served
cold.  He had very little experience with cooking, and what he did
have was from campsite food, but he didn't think this was too
difficult.  Erestor would be pleased.

He turned to prepare the vegetables that would be used in the stew
that would cook for the next few days.  While his back was turned,
Erestor slunk into the kitchen.  It wasn't that he didn't believe in
his friend's ability, he told himself, he just wanted to make sure all
was going well.

Erestor eyed the sweet bread and smiled.  Pinching a little off the
bottom of one loaf, he had a taste.

"For Valar's sake, Glorfindel!  What *is* this?!"

Glorfindel spun, the knife in his hand, and looked from Erestor to the
breads.  "Those, meldir, are the first of the dessert breads for
Solstice."

"Dessert?!  Are you insane?  What did you put in them?"  He offered
Glorfindel a pinch of the bread, which he took happily.  He spit it
out immediately, his expression sour.

"I used flour, yeast, sugar and citrus.  I would not know why it
tastes as vile as it does."

Erestor looked around the kitchen.  "Where did you get the sugar,
Glorfindel?"

Glorfindel pointed to a canister on one of the table tops.  "There."

Erestor's eyes grew wide.  "You son of an Orc!  That's salt!"

"It has an 'S' on it, Erestor!  'S' -- for sugar!"  He was becoming
inflamed, he knew he was, but he was very insulted.

"No!  'S' is for salt, 'G' is for sugar!"  Erestor put his hands on
his hips, his eyes flashing in irritation.

"'G'?!  How in the name of Arda did you come up with 'G' for sugar?!"

"Because I used 'S' for the salt, Glorfindel!"

"Well, couldn't you have put the whole name on it?!"

"Nay, because some of the canisters are too small to use the whole
name and I wanted to be consistent.  So, they each were assigned a
letter.  No one has had a problem in the last thousand years.  I
cannot understand how *you*..."  Erestor looked around thoughtfully,
sniffing the air.  "Do you smell something?"

"What do you mean?"  Glorfindel cocked his head at his friend.

"Like... something burning?"

"The rabbit!"  Glorfindel ran to the large brick ovens, scrambling to
open the heavy doors and peer inside.  Erestor looked over the
blond's shoulder into the heat of the oven.

"Are you sure those are rabbits, meldir?  They look more like lumps of
coal."  Erestor smirked.

"They were fine before you came in here and distracted me!"

"Well, why didn't one of the other staff tend to them?"

"Because," Glorfindel huffed, looking around the very empty kitchen,
"you seem to have scared them all off!"

Erestor threw up his hands.  "Elbereth, I cannot deal with this right
now!  I have problems of my own!  Just... fix this!  I don't care
*how*, just fix it!"

And then, just as quickly as he had appeared, Erestor swept out of the
room in a flurry of black robes and an exasperated sigh.  Well, mostly
black anyway, Glorfindel grinned, as he tossed some of the flour from
the board onto the back of Erestor's retreating figure.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*

In spite of Erestor's fears, the day of the Winter Solstice arrived
without the destruction of Imladris or the cold-blooded murder of a
certain Seneschal who patently refused to understand the importance of
the occasion.  None of the assembled guests seemed to notice or care
that the feast was leaner on meats than past years or that the famous
Imladris sweetbreads were surreptitiously replaced with a collection
of flavored sponge cakes.  For the first time since Elrond had left,
Erestor allowed himself a sigh of relief.  He even indulged in a
couple of glasses of the ice wine (which, he had to admit, had turned
out especially nice this year, regardless of his fears that the frost
had come too soon or that the chief winemaker was a talentless dolt).

"Erestor!" Glorfindel's voice rang out, interrupting his moment of
contentment.  A moment later, the tawny-haired Elf weaved his way
through the crowd to stand by Erestor's side.  "Erestor, my excellent
good friend!" he said again, a little too loudly.  (Glorfindel was
especially fond of the Imladrin ice wine.)

"You seem to be enjoying yourself to excess, mellon-nin," Erestor
replied, a note of disdain hanging in his voice.

Glorfindel, however, completely missed the nuance.  "But of course!
What other way *is* there to enjoy oneself, Councilor?  Come now!
Have a dance with me ere I am unable to stand!"

Erestor had to smile at Glorfindel's admission of intoxication.  At
least when his friend overdid it, he was well aware of it.  He briefly
considered the offer, but in the end, politely shook his head.  "I
don't think so, Glorfindel.  I prefer to observe your antics rather
than participate in them."

"Really?  Okay, then.  Observe this!"  With that pronouncement,
Glorfindel wrapped a hand around Erestor's waist and marched him onto
the dance floor.  Accomplished warrior though he was, Erestor's
strength was no match for the prowess of the Balrog-slayer, and he
had little choice but to follow where he was led.

Glorfindel's style of dancing seemed to be a cross between a military
advance and a rampaging Oliphaunt, which meant that several of the
dancing couples had to virtually leap out of the way to avoid being
trampled.  The only pair that could manage to remain near the acting
chiefs of Imladris were Elrond's twin sons.  Elladan and Elrohir were
more than adept at spinning out of Glorfindel's way when his charge
targeted their position.  Erestor presumed it was something about the
way the twins' minds were somehow connected that they were able to
move fluidly together when the need arose.

It was well-known among those who frequented Imladris that the two
brothers were closer than kin.  While it might not be wholly accepted,
it was at least tacitly tolerated.  Because of this, the stares that
were cast toward the dance floor were directed mainly at the
inebriated Seneschal and the bewildered Councilor than at the loving
gestures of the Half-Elven heirs.  So, when the pair danced over to
Erestor and Glorfindel and softly mentioned that the reserves of wine
were beginning to deplete, Erestor was more than grateful to take the
opportunity to exit the dance floor with promises of restocking the
supply.

*****

Glorfindel had insisted on accompanying Erestor; a request that the
dark-haired Noldo grudgingly granted.  Glorfindel was relieved, if
only because he was afraid that if he took his hand from around
Erestor's waist, he would fall down.  All the dancing had caused the
wine to go to his head much faster and farther than he would admit.
Erestor was humoring him, he knew, by guiding him through the passages
to the cellar.  Glorfindel didn't mind; he was too distracted by the
minute observations of the truly drunk.  For instance, he'd never
realized before how good his friend smelled, how soft his hands were,
or how the fineness of his dark hair shimmered like ebony in the
flickering candlelight.

He had gotten as far as noticing how perfectly the dark green tunic
hung from Erestor's frame and how the black leggings did a wonderful
job of accentuating his petite backside when he heard Erestor sliding
the key into the lock on the cellar door.  Erestor hauled the Elda
inside and set him down in a chair as he went about selecting some
bottles to bring back to the festival.

"What about the '05?" Erestor said after a few minutes of looking
through the collection.  "I think that was particularly good."

"'S orc droppin's 'pared to the '03," Glorfindel slurred.

"There's only four bottles of the '03 left, though.  Oh, well, I'll
take one of them.  And three of the '97.  It's not great, but the Men
seem to like it.  What did you think of the '94?"

"I loved you... I mean, it."

Erestor pulled down two of those bottles as well, setting them all
onto the cart.  He was making sure they were all firmly settled before
heading back to the gathering when he heard Glorfindel struggle to his
feet.  He turned around just in time to see the Seneschal stumble
toward him.

"Dinja hear me?" Glorfindel mumbled.  "I said, I love it... I mean,
you."

Erestor caught Glorfindel's arm and put it over his shoulder to steady
him.  "I heard you, old friend.  Don't try to move too fast."

Glorfindel threw his other arm over Erestor's other shoulder and
pulled himself face-to-face with the Councilor.  Before Erestor
realized it, Glorfindel leaned in and kissed Erestor's mouth.  Erestor
was so shocked by the gesture that he did not react, did not resist as
his mouth was pushed open by Glorfindel's tongue, deepening the kiss
into something far less than chaste.

Trying not to offend his dear friend, Erestor put his hands on
Glorfindel's chest and gently but firmly pushed the Elda away.  "Nay,
meldir, not like this," he whispered sweetly, touching a finger to
Glorfindel's lips.  He supported Glorfindel with one arm, pushing the
cart with the other, and slowly made it out of the cellar.  After
locking the door again, he walked through the halls until he found one
of the staff heading for the kitchens.  He handed the cart off to him
and walked Glorfindel back to the Seneschal's room.

Glorfindel was fading in and out of consciousness.  He was vaguely
aware of Erestor undressing him and laying him into the bed, and he
was almost certain he felt the Noldo sit on the bed beside him and
stroke his hair.  He mumbled something unintelligible in an attempt to
thank his friend for the concern, and then he fell into the dreamless
sleep that Elves rarely needed except in times of great bodily strain,
like getting trashed on ice wine and making a pass at one's best
friend.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Glorfindel blinked, clearing the last vestige of sleep from his eyes.
His head was throbbing and his tongue felt thick and dry.  Slowly, he
sat up in bed, hanging his pounding head in his hands.  He tried
standing, which was an unsuccessful venture.  Taking a deep breath and
fighting back the swell of nausea the sudden movement caused, he tried
to stand a second time.  Once he was on his feet, he made his way to
his bathing chamber and filled the tub with cool water.  He hoped a
cold bath would help ease the headache.  The Elda stumbled into the
pool and sighed softly.

After a few moments of blissful, morning-after ignorance, his eyes
flew open as the memories of the previous night returned.  Glorfindel
closed his eyes tightly, groaning at the mess he had created.  He had
told his long time friend he loved him.  He had *kissed* the 
Councilor.  Oh, this was going to be awkward.

It wasn't that he was ashamed of kissing him, he had wanted to do such
a thing for years.  But, drunk and in a cellar was not how he
envisioned the first kiss they would share.  The enigmatic Elf had
held his attentions for some time, he just knew Erestor had very
little interest in relationships.  He also knew the Councilor did not
approve of his casual flings.  The problem he was facing, he thought
as he scrubbed his hair, was that he wanted Erestor.  He truly did.
What bothered him was that he wanted him around for more than a night
or two.

He rinsed his hair and smiled as the tension in his temples eased with
the cool water.  He had to fix this.  Perhaps if he simply ignored the
incident?  Erestor hadn't fought him, had allowed the kiss for a few
moments... had even hinted that he wanted it, just not with his friend
drunk and barely in control of his motor skills.  Could it be that
Erestor had feelings for him?

Glorfindel shook his head, carefully exiting the tub.  He quickly
dried himself off and dressed, plaiting his hair in the usual warrior
fashion.  No, Erestor was not interested in him.  He had simply not
wanted to offend his drunken friend and endured the man-handling
Glorfindel had attempted.

He took a deep breath, letting it out slowly, and plastered a serene
smile on his face as he exited his chambers to face the day at
Erestor's side.

*****

Erestor finished fastening the ties on his stately black robes.  He
hadn't gotten much sleep the night before, his thoughts keeping him
up.  His mind had been filled with blue eyes and soft lips.  He had
enjoyed the kiss, even if it was in a drunken moment of lust.  Erestor
knew he could have been anyone to Glorfindel in that moment.  His
friend was not serious.

He made his way to the main study where he would spend the day.  Now
that the celebration was over, he had to take stock of the food,
wines, and any damage done to the premises.  The unfortunate part of
the day was that he had to spend it with Glorfindel.  He was sure the
golden-haired Elda would tease him mercilessly about the situation.
He was sure Glorfindel loved to watch him twist and squirm...

He stopped that thought as it brought about a completely different
image of twisting and squirming.  His cheeks colored slightly and he
entered the study, coming face to face with his nemesis.

He allowed his well schooled mask of indifference to slip into place
and he bowed in respect to the Seneschal.  "Good morning, Glorfindel.
I am sure you slept well?"

"Like the dead."  He smirked at his companion.

Erestor raised an eyebrow and made his way to the desk.  He took his
seat while Glorfindel pulled one of the straight backed chairs next to
him.  He stared at the blond for a moment and then pulled out the
most recent tallies from the kitchen.  "It seems we will need to send
the hunters out, since the kitchen reports we are low on meats.  I
wonder why they specifically mention rabbit."  He looked pointedly at
his companion.

"Like I said, Erestor, had you not interrupted me, those rabbits would
have been perfect."  He flashed a winning smile in Erestor's direction
and the Councilor felt his heart quicken.  He was beautiful.

Erestor shook his head and went back to the notes on the papers.  "I
wonder if the head chef had her baby..." he mused.

Glorfindel snorted.  "You didn't even check on her?  After you worked
her until she went into labor?!"

The Noldo sputtered and blinked, feeling quite contrite.  The
melodious chuckle from his friend made him flush with embarrassment.
"You are impossible, Glorfindel!"

"And you are so..."  Glorfindel cut himself off and turned away from
the liquid black eyes that watched him so carefully.

"So what, meldir?"

"Nothing."

The room fell into uncomfortable silence.  Erestor shot to his legs
and walked across the room from Glorfindel.  He needed to think, to
breathe.  He spun on his friend and glared at him.  "What the hell
happened last night, Glorfindel?!  Are you even going to speak of it?"

Glorfindel flinched slightly at Erestor's tone.  "We can speak of it
if you wish.  Though, I am not sure what you want to discuss.  It was
a kiss, nothing more."  He was trying to downplay the importance and
enjoyment of the moment, he did not want to ruin a very good, solid
friendship because of an impulsive moment -- drunk or not.

Glorfindel watched Erestor's eyes deaden slightly.  The spark he had
seen just a moment before was gone and he was gazed at with dull
detachment.  "Very well, Glorfindel.  I do not require your aid to go
through all the business that occurs after the Solstice.  You can go
to the barracks and do... whatever it is you do there."

Glorfindel watched Erestor for a moment.  The dark Elf had his arms
crossed and his eyes narrowed.  He had been insulted and Glorfindel
couldn't think for the life of him *why* his friend would be insulted.
He had let Erestor off the hook, he could now put the awkward moment
in the cellar behind him.

As he stood to leave room a thought struck him.  Erestor was offended
because... he had enjoyed the kiss!  He had to pass the Councilor to
leave the study and in that moment he made a decision.  He made for
the doorway and, as he passed Erestor, grabbed the ebony-haired beauty
by his shoulders and pressed him against the wall.  When Erestor
opened his mouth to protest, Glorfindel kissed him.  Since Erestor's
mouth was already open, he had no problem snaking his tongue into the
warmth of Erestor's mouth.  His friend struggled for a moment in his
grasp, but he soon felt Erestor's hands slide up and behind his neck,
deepening the kiss.

The usually stoic Erestor moaned into his mouth, pressing his body
against the heat of Glorfindel.  The Elda could lose himself in the
sensations Erestor's body provoked, but the need for breath caused him
to break the kiss.  They stared at each other for a moment,
Glorfindel's arms wrapped tight around the slim waist of Erestor and
the Councilor's hands tangled in the mass of gold that was
Glorfindel's hair.

Breathing heavily, lips swollen from the intensity of Glorfindel's
onslaught, Erestor gasped, "What was that?!"

"If you couldn't tell, then I must have done it wrong."  He smiled at
the confusion on Erestor's face before lowering his head for another,
slower exploration of the Noldo's mouth.

Erestor was more than willing to indulge in the sweetness of
Glorfindel's mouth.  He only noted in passing that Glorfindel had
pulled him away from the wall and was laying him down upon the sofa in
the study.  As he slipped his hands under the Elda's tunic, he had the
fleeting thought that this was all a big mistake.

Then he felt Glorfindel's hands in his robes and, mistake or no, he
was enjoying it.

*****

Night had long since settled over the valley of Imladris.  The wind
rattled the casements, beat branches against each other.  The wood
floors were cool to bare feet and all occupants of the Last Homely
House sat cuddled by fires, not daring to venture out into the open
halls with the winter storm coming.  Most were safe in their chambers,
happily warmed by a fire or a loved one.

All but two, that is.

A tall, slender blond Elf sat in a deeply cushioned chair in front of
a roaring fire, the orange firelight casting an ethereal halo about
him.  His eyes were locked with the ebony-haired Elf across from him
in a matching chair, the dark, liquid eyes regarding him over the rim
of a wineglass.  His companion sat with his legs crossed, wearing only
his leggings, and Glorfindel felt his groin tighten at the way the
light played on the soft curves of Erestor's chest.

Erestor was watching his lover, grasping for control of a situation he
had let spiral away from him.  It was not like him to allow someone to
take him on a couch in a library.  But, he had allowed Glorfindel to
do just that.  Since they had awakened shortly after dark, they had
sat in silence, watching one another from beneath veiled eyes.  He did 
not know what this meant.  All he knew was Glorfindel had felt so good 
in his arms, wrapped about him, nestled deep inside him, that he did 
not want to give him up after one rash moment in the study.

He supposed he needed to finally speak to the Elda, to tell him his
desires and needs and expectations.  Erestor just didn't quite know
how.  So, he chose the only route he knew: diplomacy.

"Where does this leave us, Seneschal?"  He surprised himself when his
voice did not tremble with barely his restrained fear.

Glorfindel cocked his head and a childish smile played on his lips.
"It leaves us half dressed in the study with a raging storm outside."

Erestor scoffed and placed his wine glass on the side table.  "Nay.
You know that is not what I am talking about.  I do not hop from bed
to bed like you, meldir, and I do not wish to begin doing so now.
Although, couch to couch doesn't seem any more appealing, either.  I
have not taken a lover since Elrond so very long ago, and I have
chosen that path for a reason."

"Then why have you strayed from it now, Erestor?"

The Noldo felt a shiver run down his spine at the way his name just
rolled off the very talented tongue of his partner.  He calmed himself
and tried to answer.  "I am not sure.  You are the last person in
Imladris I could trust with my affections or my virtue."

Glorfindel couldn't stifle his laugh.  "Your virtue?  Please, Erestor.
Your virtue was long gone before you fell onto that couch with me."

"All right, my integrity, then.  My sense of honor.  My dignity.
Admit it, Glorfindel, you took advantage of me."

Glorfindel sat up, mildly offended.  "I took advantage of the
situation, aye, Erestor.  But that is not the same thing."

"Codswallop.  You knew I was confused about my feelings and you
twisted them to your advantage."  Erestor's casual tone belied the
contempt that simmered just under the surface.

"You must think very little of me," Glorfindel replied icily.

"Oh, come, come!" Erestor snapped.  "You have made no secret of your
extensive list of conquests.  And now I am simply another notch in
your sword belt."

The blond Elf slid forward out of his chair, coming to his knees in
front of Erestor.  He took the Councilor's hands and looked up into
his eyes.  "Believe me when I say that you are more that, meldir."

Erestor's eyes shimmered with the threat of tears.  "How can I know
that to be the truth?"

"You can't," Glorfindel said softly.  "That is the way of this world.
There are things that you cannot control, that you cannot plan for. 
Things that you must dare to chance.  That you must take on faith.  I
cannot say where the path will led that is set before us now.  I only
know that I have long desired you, that I treasure your friendship
above all else, and that I believe we can explore the one without
endangering the other."

"And what if we fail?  I do not think my heart could take that."

"Your heart, I think, is stronger than you give it credit.  But, I do
not think we will fail.  The step from friend to lover is shorter than
you might think, now that the pieces have been put into play, and the
gambits have been revealed."

Erestor smiled, his eyes darting to the chessboard in the corner where
the two had shared many a spirited game.  His smile became a smirk,
and he looked back to Glorfindel with mischief in his gaze.  "What do
you suppose the King will think upon seeing the Knight and the Bishop
together?"

Glorfindel chuckled.  "I expect he'll just pawn it off."

"He may accuse you of rooking me into it, though," Erestor replied,
stifling a laugh.

"Then you'll just have to mention, en passant, that you were a willing
partner," responded Glorfindel with amusement.

"You don't think he'll queen it over us?"

"I don't think so.  Not as long as we check our mating and not let it
interfere with our work."

By now, the two Elves were hysterical with laughter, rolling on the
floor in each other's arms, sharing playful kisses and caresses as
though they were Elflings barely past their majority.

Slowly, almost imperceptibly, the kisses became deeper, the caresses
firmer.  Soon, the two bodies were pressed together in a passionate
embrace.  Glorfindel's hands slid down and gripped Erestor's behind
as the Noldo's fingertips roamed along the Elda's back and arms. 
Their arousal was quite pronounced, despite (or perhaps because of)
the haste of their coupling not that long ago.  Glorfindel shifted his
hips slightly, bringing their stiff erections in line and causing
Erestor to gasp.

Without breaking the kiss, Glorfindel rolled Erestor under him.  His
hands clasped Erestor's and their fingers twined.  Erestor whimpered
as Glorfindel moved his hips in slow circles, rubbing his hardness
against the Councilor's.  The circles became thrusts, and Erestor
moaned again, the sound being captured by Glorfindel's hungry mouth.

Erestor tried to unlace his fingers to run them through Glorfindel's
hair, but suddenly realized the Seneschal was pinning his hands to the
floor.  Panic began to creep into his eyes, but at that moment,
Glorfindel broke the kiss and spoke to him softly.  "Ah, ah, meldir,"
he chided.  "Remember what I said?  That there are things that you
cannot control?  This is one of them.  I'm not going to hurt you, but
I *am* going to show you that you can enjoy losing control." 

The blond Elf untwined his fingers from Erestor's, but did not
relinquish his grip.  He brought the Noldo's arms together on the
floor above his head and clamped a hand over both wrists, holding them
tightly.  His other hand moved between them and undid the ties at the
front of Erestor's leggings.  When the waist was loosened, he slid his
hand inside and played his fingertips across the tight flesh of
Erestor's shaft.  When he reached the base, Glorfindel cupped his hand
around his new lover's heavy globes, giving them a playful squeeze. 
He heard a sharp hiss of breath from Erestor that became a shuddering
sigh when Glorfindel began massaging the wrinkled skin.

Erestor's initial concern melted away under the more experienced Elf's
tender ministrations.  He allowed himself to relax, close his eyes,
and relish the sensations that Glorfindel's hand was causing him.  At
some point, his wrists were released, but he hardly noticed.  Neither
did he have any inclination to move his hands, especially when
Glorfindel's head dipped down and he felt the tip of the Seneschal's
tongue graze the tip of his cock and slide down its length.

Glorfindel spent several minutes teasing Erestor with his tongue,
licking every inch of the smooth shaft, dancing across the swollen
head.  The usually-reserved Councilor was squirming under him before
he deigned to open his mouth and accept Erestor's rod.  When he
finally did, he wasted no time in pulling it into his mouth so deep
that his nose was touching Erestor's stomach.  Without moving, he
alternated between sucking and swallowing motions, letting the
undulation of his throat muscles play against the ensnared staff.

The dark-haired Elf started to grind against Glorfindel's mouth, but
quickly felt hands on his hips pressing him forcefully down. 
Glorfindel, however, did grant the unspoken request and began bobbing
his head, repeatedly thrusting his mouth down onto Erestor's cock. 
Erestor could not hold back the moans of pleasure, nor did he
particularly want to.  He lay as still as possible and let Glorfindel
work his throbbing arousal however the Elda wished, moving only his
mouth as he called out over and over again.

Glorfindel's assault was relentless.  He could read Erestor's body,
could tell by the moans and the squirms how close to orgasm Erestor
was.  He kept the Councilor teetering on the edge of that release,
drawing out the pleasure -- and the exquisite torture of it all -- as
long as he felt his partner could stand... plus two minutes.  The
intent was to force Erestor's orgasm completely into someone else's
control.  Glorfindel and Glorfindel alone had the say on when the
Noldo was allowed to finish.

Erestor, meanwhile, was panting in exhaustion.  He had stopped crying
out because his throat was sore from it and was now reduced to heavy
breathing alone to indicate his pleasure.  Somehow, though, it didn't
stop Glorfindel from being able to tell when he was close.  He felt
the elusive orgasm approaching for the ... tenth time?  Twelfth?  He'd
lost count.  He felt his body stiffen and tingle from head to toe,
like every other time before.  And Glorfindel's mouth pulled off his
cock, just like every other time before.

Before Erestor could catch his breath, though, Glorfindel plunged down
again, sucking the rod deep into his mouth.  Erestor cried out
Glorfindel's name, but only got as far as "Glor--" when his body shook
violently, sending his seed spurting down the blond's throat.  His
release seemed to go on forever, but he eventually collapsed back onto
the floor, totally drained in every sense of the word.

Glorfindel moved to lay beside him, kissing him softly.  "You should
get some sleep."

"But what about you?"

"I'll sleep, too, don't worry."

"That's not what I meant."

"I know.  There's time enough for that."

*****

Some time later, Erestor's eyes fluttered open.  He was still laying
on the floor of the study.  The fire had guttered down to embers and a
chill had settled in the room.  He sat up and looked around, not
seeing Glorfindel in the room at all.  He gathered his clothes and
pulled his leggings on as he stood.  His robes were neatly folded in
the chair, a scroll of parchment rolled up on top of them.  Erestor
unfurled the parchment and smiled as he read the words inscribed
there.

	Erestor,

	I did not wish to wake you as I left, so content did you seem
in your sleep.  Today is my rotation to make the morning patrol, so I
had to leave to relieve the night watch.  Meet me in the kitchens
after the morning meal.

	Glorfindel

The Councilor rolled up the parchment and put it in the pocket of his
robes as he put them on.  He walked toward the door, heading for his
chambers, but paused at the finely crafted chessboard.  He stood
behind the black pieces, the side he always played against Glorfindel.  
A wistful smile tugged at his lips as he tipped the black King onto 
its side -- the gesture of surrender.

End "The Song and the Meaning"

Completed: 10/10/2003
Revised: 11/23/2003

---

Series: The Color of Love Trilogy
Title: The Most Innocent Kiss
Author: Orchyd Constyne
Contact: orchydconstyn