Title:  Part II:  The Golden Prince of Mirkwood
	   	sequel to "Rivendell's Mortal Son"

Author:  Dhvana (Dhvana@aol.com)

Pairing(s)(and most characters at this rate): ultimately Legolas/Aragorn (who is
still Estel), Legolas/Elladan/Elrohir in the beginning (no incest),
Elrond/Glorfindel, Aragorn/Arwen (no sex), Elladan/Haldir

Rating: Ranging from PG-13 to NC-17  

Summary:  In this sequel to "Rivendell's Mortal Son", Estel and Legolas continue
to fight to keep their love intact as they begin to prepare for Estel's destiny.

Disclaimer:  Not mine--Tolkien's.  Except for one.

Author's Note:  Once again, there is a lot of story and plotty goodness, but
also sex.  Meaning:  it's long, but I hope you'll think it's worth it.  I would
definitely appreciate feedback.  Thank you! 

And many special thanks to Adora for her thorough beta and being just a
wonderful person, and to Jo for her enthusiasm.


The Golden Prince of Mirkwood


	Legolas of Mirkwood rapidly fired his last four arrows into the Orc horde, the
archers around him quickly depleting their supplies as well.  Thrusting his bow
onto his back, he unsheathed his twin blades and shouted orders to the host of
Elves he was leading.  The air was filled with Elvish cries of defiance as the
fair folk ran to meet their enemy.  The sun glinted off the flashing silver
swords as they quickly demolished the Orcs, sending the few survivors running
into the trees.  Legolas dispatched a company to go after them as those standing
began gathering the wounded Elves while finishing off those of the Orcs who were
lying injured on the battlefield.
	After helping a warrior with a sword wound across his thigh to the Healers,
Legolas did a quick survey of the battle's aftermath and then returned to his
own tent.  Grabbing a pitcher of water, he took a long, satisfying drink, then
poured the remainder over his head.  Blood and dirt washed down the Elf's pale
face in streams before he shook the stray droplets from his head.
	"Here," someone chuckled from behind.  "I think you'll find this to be more
effective."
	Legolas turned and grinned, taking the towel from the outstretched hand. 
Wiping the grime from his face, he then rubbed the cloth quickly over his long
blond hair.  "I don't think it helped," he said, staring at the soiled towel.
	"Trust me, it's an improvement," Elladan teased before taking the Mirkwood
Prince in his arms.  "I wasn't about to do this while you were still soaked in
Orc blood."
	The raven-maned Prince pressed his lips to the other's in a passionate kiss,
Legolas eagerly accepting the proffered tongue, drawing on Elladan's mouth with
a wanton rhythm.  Their faces reddened as their blood began to rise, each
plucking at the buckles and strings of the protective leather covering their
bodies.
	A stream of sunlight entered the tent as the flap lifted.  
	"Legolas, I have the final--by the gods!"  Elrohir exclaimed, stopping
mid-sentence as he gaped at the two Elves who were avoiding his eyes.  "What do
you think you're doing!"
	"Elrohir--" Legolas began, but Elrohir held up his hand and the golden Prince
closed his mouth.
	The twin narrowed his eyes.  "I have been out there tending to the wounded and
gathering stray arrows.  I feel like I've been trying to literally swim through
a sea of Orcs, and then I come in here to find the two of you--"
	Legolas took Elrohir's face between his hands and covered the still-moving lips
with his own.  After resisting for a few moments, the twin pulled Legolas closer
to him, his hardening member pressing against Legolas's thigh.  The Elves seemed
to melt into each other as they kissed, only to emerge breathless minutes later.  
	"The two of you are forgiven," Elrohir said and immediately resumed kissing 
the
golden Prince.
	Elladan, who had been standing back to watch the exchange with amusement,
stepped forward.  Sliding his hands beneath Legolas's shirt, he ran his palms
over the smooth, strong back.  The only imperfection on the Elf's otherwise
perfect body was the scar left by an Orc's sword ten years before.  Elladan
lifted the shirt and kissed the shiny white mark, causing Legolas to shiver. 
The wound had nearly cost the Prince his life, but through the healing powers of
their father Elrond and the love of their brother Estel, Legolas had been saved. 
Elladan lifted the sweat-dampened shirt off of the Prince's body and let it fall
to the ground, where it was quickly joined by his own shirt and breeches. 
Legolas leaned into the Elf, relishing the feel of his back against Elladan's
naked skin, though he loved the sensation of the Elf nuzzling his neck even
more.
	Refusing to leave out the twin gorging on his mouth, Legolas quickly removed
Elrohir's shirt and began loosening the drawstrings of his breeches.  Elrohir
moaned with relief as his erection was freed from the confining leather, causing
Legolas to smile through their kiss as he wrapped his hand around the Elf's
eager member.  The twin's hands clutched the Elf to him as the archer's nimble
fingers teased their way across his cock.  His touch was light as he caressed
Elrohir's elfhood, moving so softly up and down the sensitive skin that it could
have been nothing more than a breath of air--a constant, endless breath of air
that knew just where to blow to drive him to the brink of madness.
	"Legolas..." he begged, his eyes clenched shut as his climax approached, and
Elladan chuckled.  
	"Take pity on my poor brother," he said, knowing that when Legolas was 
finished
with Elrohir, he would have his turn.  "Allow him his release."	
	"Because it has been such a long day, I'll agree...this time," Legolas teased,
tightening his grip. He began pumping Elrohir's cock, the Elf's breaths coming
in pants, cries of pleasure and desperation forming deep in the back of his
throat as he neared his completion.  With one last demanding thrust, Legolas
forced the Prince over the edge.  Elrohir let out a final moan as his entire
body fell limply against the Prince, Elladan supporting them both.
	"Feel better?" Elladan said, looking fondly at his brother as he was cradled by
their lover.
	"Much," he replied as Legolas leaned in to kiss him.
	"I'm glad to hear it," the archer said, gently massaging Elrohir's lips with
his mouth.  The twin responded with far too much enthusiasm for Elladan's taste,
especially since his own need had yet to be attended to.  The Prince of
Rivendell pulled Legolas away from his brother.
	"You've feasted on him long enough for one day," Elladan said, leading Legolas
over to the large cot that could just barely hold the three of them.  "He's mine
now."
	"Yours?" Legolas said, arching an eyebrow at him, trying to look stern despite
the playful twinkle in his eyes.  "I don't recall agreeing to that."
	 "You were busy at the time," Elladan responded, quickly diverging the Elf of
his leggings, "but you're about to get a reminder."
	Locking his lips to Legolas's, he lowered the Elf onto the cot, pausing only a
moment to survey the beauty displayed before him, deep blue eyes watching him
with barely contained anticipation.  "Every time I see you like this, you take
my breath away.  How?  How do you do it?"
	Legolas avoided answering by grasping the other Elf by his neck and drawing 
him
down into a kiss.  Elladan quickly positioned himself over the Elf, lifting the
long, muscled legs over his shoulders.  The blood raged through his veins as
Legolas's tongue probed his mouth.  He wanted nothing more to take his time with
the golden Prince but his aching cock demanded nothing less than immediate
relief.
	Legolas gasped as an oil-slicked finger immersed itself in his hidden opening. 
He glanced over to see Elrohir who, having stripped himself of his remaining
clothes and had joined them on the cot, had anticipated their needs.  Thoroughly
coating the inside of their Elf, Elrohir leaned over and stole a kiss from the
archer.
	As Legolas's mouth was engaged, Elladan took the opportunity to slide himself
inside the Mirkwood Prince.  Legolas's muffled cry was swallowed by his twin,
the Elf's back arching with ecstasy as Elladan hit the pleasure spot deep
within.  Elrohir sat back to allow Elladan access to Legolas's kisses while he
took hold of the golden Prince's weeping member with his oiled hand and began
stroking the writhing Elf.
	Elladan himself was uttering strangled moans in time with his thrusts inside of
Legolas's tight opening.  Legolas's tongue tickled the roof of his mouth,
sending shudders of passion through his body.  The Elf's teasing and his own
yearning encouraged him forward with a fierceness he usually only reserved for
battle.  He channeled all of his desire for the golden Prince, all his wishes to
possess the young Elf, into their love-making.
	Legolas's eyes widened Elladan began moving inside of him with absolute
abandon, the pressure threatening to break him in two.  He turned his head, his
cry causing Elladan to pause.
	"Am I hurting you?"
	"Yes," Legolas seethed through clenched teeth, grasping the Elf's strong
shoulders.  "Don't stop!"
	Elladan gladly complied, burying his face in Legolas's neck as he once more
lost himself in the Elf.  Elrohir pressed his lips to Legolas's as he continued
stroking his cock.  The Mirkwood Prince felt as if his entire body had become a
large organ made solely for pleasure.  Wave after wave of ecstasy reached from
the top of his head down to the tips of his toes.  He couldn't even hear the
moans of the other two Princes with the pounding of his heart filling his ears. 
Little did they know they were responsible for only a part of the Prince's
gratification.
	Squeezing his eyes shut, Legolas was able to block out the twins entirely, and
he could pretend he was with the one he truly loved.  As long as he couldn't
see, the eyes above him were a steely gray-blue and lightly crinkled in the
corners.  The mouth kissing his was roughened by the stubble that surrounded it. 
The body sliding across his own was lean and hardened by years of wandering in
the wilds.  As he reached climax, Estel was the one whose name was muffled by
Elrohir's mouth.
	The shuddering of Legolas's muscles around him quickly brought on Elladan's
release and within seconds, the Elves were collapsed on the cot.  Breathing
heavily, their limbs were tangled together as the air filled with the musky
scent of sex, the Princes of Rivendell drifted off into a contented slumber. 
Legolas smiled fondly in his affection for the twins, but resting his head on
Elladan's back with Elrohir curled up against him, the Prince of Mirkwood found
he couldn't sleep.  His thoughts were consumed by another.
	It had been ten years since he'd met Estel and in that time, he felt they'd
spent hardly a minute together.  The first two months after meeting had been
bliss, especially once they'd declared their love for each other.  The world,
however, had changed so rapidly around them, they found themselves almost
immediately torn apart.  Legolas was needed to protect Mirkwood from the Orcs,
while Estel, when he wasn't keeping company with the Rangers, was sent on
errands by his foster father Elrond and the wizard Gandalf.  It was rare that
their paths crossed.  It had been one year, in fact, since they'd last found a
chance to be together.  One very long year.
	Legolas sighed, rolling his head as he tried to find a more comfortable
position.  The twins had arrived in Mirkwood six months before, having heard
that the Wood Elves were having excessive trouble with goblins and Orcs. 
Apparently, they'd temporarily run out of Orcs to kill in Rivendell and thought
they'd offer their services to their old friend and lover.  It had taken five
weeks of the twins' incessant flirtation and his own increasing sexual
frustration before he found himself frolicking with the brothers, despite his
intentions to remain faithful to his beloved.
	Notwithstanding his indiscretions with the twins, his feelings for Estel had
never wavered.  In fact, he felt his love for the Ranger had only increased over
the years, despite their frequent separations.  There was an emptiness in his
heart that only Estel could fill.  It was so painful being without him that
there were times when Legolas was tempted to reject his duty to his people, seek
out Estel, and swear to never leave his side again.  But he didn't.  He simply
waited anxiously for the next time that they would meet.
	If he forced himself to be honest, he would admit that there was another reason
why he didn't seek out Estel more often.  Ten years ago, Elrond had revealed to
him the secret of Estel's parentage and of the destiny the man had to face.  If
this destiny came to pass, Legolas was afraid he would have to give up Estel
forever, and he didn't want to be there when that happened.  Losing Estel would
destroy him.
	And so, he used Estel's brothers to distract him from his fears and satisfy his
needs.  Why they had come to him, he had never thought to ask.
	Swinging an arm over Elladan's waist, Legolas shifted a final time and allowed
his eyes to close.  Elrohir grumbled behind him at being disturbed, never waking
up as he wrapped his arms tight around the golden Prince.  As Legolas was lulled
to sleep by the steady breathing his lovers, there was still only one person on
his mind.
	"Estel," he whispered before slumber completely overtook him.


	Legolas awoke as the first rays of light peered through the dense leaves of the
trees of Mirkwood.  Silently dressing, he left the slumbering twins and began
his early morning inspection of the camp.  Few Elves were stirring, having
exhausted themselves with the weeks of seemingly endless battle.  There would be
a lull for a little while as both sides regrouped.  The Orcs had been growing
increasingly persistent in their invasions of Thranduil's realm, bringing with
them as many goblins and trolls as they could muster.  The Elves didn't
understand why the attacks had continued as long as they had.  The only theories
that made sense were that the forces of darkness were trying to wear them down
or that they were trying to keep the Elves distracted.  Whether these theories
were true or not, it didn't matter, as the Orcs were succeeding in doing both.
	Entering the large tent set aside for those who were wounded, Legolas looked to
see who was the Healer on duty, then smiled.  A young Elf was wrapping the chest
of a warrior, speaking softly as the injured Elf winced.  The Healer was wearing
his long hair in a braid down his back, the color a rich dark brown with a
single silver streak running down the middle.  His profile was sharply handsome,
his eyes filled with warmth, but nothing could match his smile as he caught
sight of the golden Prince.  Quickly finishing with his patient, Menelhen rose
to greet Legolas.
	"My Lord, what brings you here?  Shouldn't you be resting after yesterday's
battle?"
	"My duty is with my warriors first.  How are they?"
	"Only a few major injuries which will take some time to recover, but most will
heal within a day or two."
	"And...what of those who were killed?"
	"My Lord, there are none."
	The golden Prince sighed as the news filled him with a sense of relief--the
battle had been intense, and he was certain they would have lost a few, but it
seems that the Valar had been watching over them.  
	"Thank you, Menelhen," he said, placing a hand on the Elf's shoulder, his eyes
dancing with amusement as a flush crept over Menelhen's face.  "That is the best
news I will receive all day."
	"And the best news you could give me is that you are going to return to your
tent and rest."
	"You are a wonderful Healer--please save your talents for those who need 
them."
	"I am here to care for all of you, My Lord, not just those who are injured."
	The Prince of Mirkwood couldn't help smirking as he looked at the young Elf. 
"And you should know that my tent is the last place I would get any rest."
	The Healer's mouth opened, but he found himself unable to speak, his head
filled with too many images involving the Elf and the twins.  He quickly closed
his mouth again before he said something he might regret.  He would rather die
than risk angering the Prince.
	Menelhen watched as Legolas moved away to take a few moments to speak 
with
those among the injured who were awake.  His silver eyes never once left the
Prince's form even as he continued changing the bandages of the wounded. 
Legolas was the sole reason why Menelhen had wanted to join the campaign against
the Orcs.  The Healer would have followed the Prince into Mordor, though a war
was unpleasant enough.  When Menehlen had heard the Prince was being given his
own legion to command, he had petitioned Thranduil himself to be given a
position with the Prince's warriors.  While he knew that Legolas's attention was
currently being occupied by the twins, he didn't care.  He simply wanted to be
near the golden Prince.
	As Legolas finished speaking with the injured, he sent Menelhen a parting
smile, and then began making his way back to his tent.
	"My Lord!"
	Legolas turned at the call to see one of the sentries running towards him, and
his stomach dropped.  Not another attack!  His people were too weary to face the
Orcs again so soon!
	"My Lord, a party of Elves has been spotted riding this way.  It's the King!"
	"Thranduil?" Legolas said, his eyes widening.  His father had been leading the
campaign in the North, protecting the city of the Mirkwood Elves and those
within.  That he had actually left to come and see his son did not bode well.
	"When will he arrive?"
	"They should reach the camp in twenty minutes."
	Legolas cursed as he hurried to his tent, looking down at his leathers scarred
from fighting, his hair falling from the braids as a result of the previous
day's activities.  He was nowhere near presentable enough to meet with the King
of Mirkwood, and he knew his father's quick eyes would catch every flaw. 
Thranduil had a way of emerging from the thickest of battles looking as if he
had done nothing more strenuous than take a walk through the woods.  His son
envied that quality in his father, and hated it as it was a skill he could never
hope to match.  Well, there was nothing he could do now except pray his father
wouldn't notice.
	"Elrohir!  Elladan!  Wake up!" he shouted, thrusting aside the tent flaps.  The
twins groaned and raised their bleary eyes, staring at the Elf.
	"What do you want?" Elladan said, throwing an arm over his face.
	"My father is coming."
	The twins immediately sat up, Legolas having gained their attention.
	"Thranduil?  Here?" Elrohir asked while Elladan narrowed his eyes.
	"What have we done to deserve this?  I thought we'd been on our best 
behavior."
	"We have, unless you count the continued corruption of his youngest son," his
twin responded as they exchanged quick grins.
	"I'd forgotten about that--do you really think he minds?  Or maybe he doesn't
know yet!"
	"I am certain my father is fully aware of what we've been doing," Legolas said,
tossing the Princes of Rivendell their clothes.
	"Are you sure?  I was starting to look forward to seeing the expression on his
face when I told him."
	Legolas scowled at Elladan.  "Promise me you will do nothing to provoke him. 
My father does not need any more reasons to disapprove of me."
	Elladan's face turned serious as he gazed at the Prince of Mirkwood.  "I
promise you that I will do everything within my power to make you out to be no
less than perfect, which is the truth."
	"Just behave--that's all I ask."
	"If that is what you desire.  Now come here and let us fix those braids.  You
look as if you spent the entire night rolling around on the forest floor with a
bunch of wild animals."
	Legolas grinned as he sat down between the twins, whose agile fingers quickly
smoothed out the Prince's golden mane and redid the braids down the back and to
the sides of his head.  "There were only two wild animals, as I recall, and I
don't think we'd ever left this tent."
	Elladan yanked on the braid in his hands as Elrohir chuckled.  "You haven't
even begun to see our wild sides."
	"Perhaps that is something we should explore, once my father is gone," Legolas
said as he lifted Elrohir's hand to his mouth and began to slowly suck on the
Elf's slender index finger.  Elrohir's breath caught in his throat as the
Prince's bright blue eyes held his captive.
	"It is most cruel of you," he whispered, feeling his elfhood beginning to stir,
"to tease me like this."
	Legolas kissed the tip of the moistened finger, then the palm of Elrohir's
hand.  "I just like seeing your face turn that lovely shade of pink."
	"Enough, you two.  Legolas, you need to go meet your father.  We will join you
as soon as we are dressed."
	"Right, my father," Legolas sighed as he rose to his feet, then turned to face
the twins.  "Please hurry--I need as many allies as I can get."
	"We will be there in five minutes."
	Legolas leaned over, pressing his mouth first to Elladan's, and then to
Elrohir's.  "Thank you for being here." 
	Elrohir waited till Legolas had gone, then turned to his brother with a grin. 
"That poor Elf would be lost without us."
	"Completely.  That's why we're here."
	"Is that why we're here?  I thought we were here to see how many times in a
single night you could make Legolas--"
	Elrohir found his mouth silenced as it was abruptly stuffed with his shirt.


	Legolas watched as Thranduil's party emerged from the trees.  As always, he
couldn't help feeling a moment of awe upon seeing the King of Mirkwood.  A man
of impressive stature even for an Elf, Tranduil sat tall on his steed, his dark
blond hair hanging thick over his shoulders.  Millennia of fighting had hardened
his body, though Legolas had never been able to figure out just what had
hardened his heart.  Affectionate would never be a word he used to describe his
father.  Confident.  Strong.  Fearless.  A brilliant leader and statistician. 
Occasionally cruel.  Overly critical.  Bitter.  Greedy.  But loving?  Never.  At
least, not where his sons were concerned.
	Bowing low as Thranduil dismounted, Legolas rose and almost fell backwards 
when
he saw his father was smiling.
	"My son, it is good to see you!"
	Legolas frowned, studying the Elf before him.  "Father?"
	"I have been hearing the most excellent reports about your progress here.  I'm
glad to see that my blood is finally beginning to make an appearance in your
veins." 
	Legolas swallowed hard, falling in line next to the King as Thranduil began
inspecting the camp.  Take a deep breath, he told himself, and think of Estel,
think of Elladan, think of Elrohir, think of ways for Elladan and Elorhir to
make you feel better after Thranduil is gone.  Legolas smiled.
	"Tell me, Father, what brings you to this part of Mirkwood?"
	As Thranduil opened his mouth to answer, the twin Princes of Rivendell 
appeared
in front of them.  The mirror images bowed before the King of Mirkwood, their
raven hair gleaming in the morning light.
	"Your Majesty, it is a pleasure to see you again."
	"Elladan, Elrohir, it is an honor.  It seems the two of you are responsible for
a good portion of my son's success during this last campaign."
	"On the contrary, my Lord," Elladan said, knowing that only Legolas and 
Elrohir
would be able to hear the strain in his voice as he tried to remain pleasant,
"your son's skills as a warrior put ours to shame.  We have learned much from
spending these past few months with Legolas."
	"Yes, but how much of what you learned occurred outside of his tent?"
	Elladan was stunned into silence at Thranduil's not-so-subtle implication while
Legolas suddenly found himself wishing he hadn't been so successful against the
Orcs, but instead was lying in a dozen pieces on the battlefield.
	"Your son is one of the finest warriors I know," Elrohir said, somehow 
managing
to sound as if he hadn't heard Thranduil's question.  "You should be proud."
	"Indeed, I am," he said, turning to Legolas, "so you should know this has no
effect on my decision to send you away."
	"My Lord?"
	"I have received a message from Celeborn.  I need for you to travel to
Lothlorien to give him my answer, and then wait for one in return."
	"Now, my Lord?  I am honored that you would think of me, but I do not wish to
leave my men.  Is there not someone else you could send?"
	"This is a matter of a most sensitive nature, and I need to send someone I can
trust.  Who better to fill that role than my own son?  As there is a lull in the
fighting, the timing could not be more perfect.  Your Highnesses are more than
welcome to stay until my son's return, but I imagine you will wish to join him,
especially since it seems your foster brother is currently visiting your
grandparents."
	"Estel is in Lorien?" Elrohir said, exchanging an excited glance with his
brother, their excitement turning to fear as the realized just what that would
mean.
	Legolas found his heart skipped a beat at the sound of his beloved's name. 
Estel was in Lorien!  For the first time in a year, he would feel the Ranger's
arms around him, his mouth on his lips.  In just a few days, he would be
reunited with his love.
	"When do you need me to leave?" he asked his father.
	"As soon as you are rested after yesterday's battle.  Will tomorrow morning be
sufficient?"
	"I do not think it will be a problem," Legolas smiled as he and his father
continued walking through the camp.  Elladan and Elrohir held back until the
Lords of Mirkwood were beyond hearing.
	"Estel is in Lorien," Elrohir repeated, and Elladan nodded.
	"Has our sister returned to Rivendell yet?"
	"Not that I know of."
	"Then they will both be there."
	"That is what I am afraid of.  What should we do?  If Legolas sees them
together, he will know."
	"We should tell him."
	"Elladan, it is not our responsibility."
	"No, it is Estel's, and yet over the past ten years, has he said a word to
Legolas?"
	"That does not mean we should be the ones to tell him."
	"He has a right to know!"
	"Do you want to be the one to break his heart?"
	Elladan was silent as he thought about Elrohir's words, his voice hesitant when
he finally spoke.  "Is that what you believe?  Do you think his heart will
break?"
	"I do not know," Elrohir sighed, wrapping an arm around his brother's
shoulders.  "I hope not, but either way, at least we will be there to comfort
him."
	"Or bury him."

	Thranduil saw the three travelers off at dawn the next morning, but before they
left, he pulled Legolas aside.
	"Now, son, Celeborn's messenger informed me that the Lady Arwen is in 
Lorien as
well."
	"Father--" Legolas started, but Thranduil silenced him.
	"I know that Celeborn and Galadriel brought you two together often as children
in hopes that you would one day marry.  They have always longed to join our
houses in order to heal some of the bad blood between us.  As times continue to
darken, perhaps this is something you should consider."
	"I can assure you, Father, that the Lady Arwen has no desire to marry me, and I
have no desire to marry her."
	"If this is because of Elladan and Elrohir--"
	Legolas laughed.  "Do not worry, Father.  My heart has more sense than to give
itself to the twins.  Arwen and I are simply not meant to be.  We will never
look at each other the same way you and mother do."
	"If you are certain," Thranduil sighed, then grinned.  "I suppose I am a bit
relieved.  I wasn't necessarily looking forward to calling Elrond kin."
	The golden Prince of Mirkwood couldn't help smiling at his father's words,
which were much more characteristic of Thranduil than talk of allying his house
to Rivendell.
	"Have a safe trip," Thrandruil said, grasping his son's arm.  "Namari‘,
Legolas."
	"Namari‘, Father."


	The twins found themselves holding back Legolas time and time again on the 
ride
to Lorien, or they risked exhausting their horses entirely.  They had other
reasons for wishing to delay the trip as well, but they had agreed not to reveal
those to the golden Prince.  Fortunately, Legolas was too excited about seeing
Estel again to notice the twins' unusual silence.
	As they entered the boundaries of Lothlorien, the three Elves paused and waited
for the inevitable appearance of the Galadhrim.  Though invited, they knew
better than to try and penetrate the wood's borders without having passed the
scrutiny of the Galadhrim first.  They didn't have to wait long before melodious
voices began to drift down from the trees.
	"Is it my imagination, or am I seeing three Elves who seem to have lost their
way?"
	"Elves who have lost their way?  Is that possible?  Perhaps they are dwarves in
disguise."
	"Now, brothers, is that any way to speak of our guests?"
	"What would you have us say?"
	"I can find no other explanation for why they are sitting there when they
perfectly well know the way."
	"You make a good point.  Perhaps they are lost."
	"I'd recognize the condescension in those voices anywhere," Elladan said,
glancing into the branches above him.  "Haldir!  Rumil!  Orophin!  Show
yourselves!"
	Three Elves with white blond hair leapt gracefully down to the forest floor,
landing directly in front of the three travelers.  
	"Elladan.  Elrohir," Haldir nodded.  "It has been a long time."
	"Haldir," Elladan said with a knowing smile as he gazed up and down the Elf's
lean form.  "You're looking well."
	"I'd have been offended if you hadn't noticed.  And who is this--could it be
the ungrateful Prince of Mirkwood?"
	"Ungrateful?" Legolas said, arching an eyebrow at the Galadhrim.
	"For not coming to visit us more often," Orophin said, giving the Elf a sly
smile.  Legolas returned his smile with a hint of seduction in his eyes.
	"I had to stay away, or your charms would have held me captive and I never
would have seen Mirkwood again."
	"Listen to the little Prince," Rumil chuckled.  "If he doesn't control his
tongue, he's going to have five Elves contending for his bed tonight."
	"Why should there be competition between us?" Orophin said, sliding up to the
golden Prince.  "I think all six of us can fit into a tree together--if we can
find the right tree."
	"Somehow, I think even Celeborn and Galadriel would have a bit of difficulty
accepting that excuse as a reason for our delay," Elrohir said, seeking to draw
the attention away from Legolas as he noticed how concerned the Elf was growing
that he wouldn't be able to extract himself from the Galadhrim's clutches.
	"You may be right," Haldir sighed, "but it is a lovely thought.  Come, you are
expected."
	The three Princes followed the white blond heads deep into the heart of
Lothlorien.  As always, when he visited the golden wood, Legolas was awed by the
loftiness of the trees, and by the sense of magic that prevailed in every leaf,
every branch, every limb.  The forest was filled with a respectful silence as
they led their horses behind the Galadhrim.  Even the breeze whispering through
the leaves seemed to pay homage to the power of the Lady of the Wood.  Despite
the reverence that echoed with every footfall, Legolas couldn't help being
instilled with a sense of peace.  He knew he would always be safe there,
welcomed with the open arms of nature itself.
	"It appears that our charms were not the spell the Prince of Mirkwood was
afraid to fall under," Rumil teased lightly, feeling only pride at the adoration
on Legolas's face as he gazed at the woods around them.
	"It is always difficult to leave here," Legolas smiled in agreement.  "Though I
have spent much of my life in Mirkwood, I can never enter Lothlorien without
feeling that some small part of me calls this place home."
	"The power of the Elves is strongest here, so long as our Lady remains," Haldir
agreed.  "We cannot help but feel welcome."
	The party traveled for the rest of the day until they reached the entrance of
Caras Galadhon, where they were met by three more Elves sent to guide the
visitors to their rooms while others took their horses.  Haldir and his brothers
went on to their rooms, but not before promising to seek out the Princes for the
evening meal.	
	"I was wondering," Legolas said, stopping his guide as he turned to leave, "I
have heard that Lord Estel is currently here in Lorien.  Do you know where I
could find him?"
	"I believe he is down by the river, my Lord, with the Lady Arwen."
	"Thank you," Legolas said, beaming at the poor Elf who became somewhat
flustered beneath the Prince's gaze as he left the room.  Legolas quickly dug
through his bags for a clean set of clothes.  He washed his face, redid his
braids, and scampered down the steps of the tree, running towards the river.
	Elladan stood stretching on his balcony overlooking the quiet city when a flash
of gold caught his eye.
	"Oh, no," he said, leaning over the wooden rail.  "Legolas!  Legolas, wait!"
	"Elladan?" Elrohir said, appearing on the balcony next to him.  "What's 
wrong?"
	"I just saw Legolas running towards the river.  I think he's looking for
Estel."
	Elrohir's face paled.  "Oh, no--we have to stop him!"
	The two practically fell down the tree in their hurry to reach the ground,
nearly knocking over the three Galadhrim as they did so.
	"Elladan?  Elrohir?" Haldir said as he and his brothers topped the twins.  Upon
seeing the panic in their eyes, he was immediately concerned.  "What's wrong?"
	"We have to reach Legolas before he finds Estel," Elladan said, shaking him off
and continuing his mad dash to the river, the rest of them following behind.
	"Why?  What's going on?"
	"Legolas doesn't know about Arwen," Elrohir answered.
	"What has Arwen to do with anything?"
	"Legolas is in love with Estel, and he believes his love is returned," Elladan
replied.
	"If he finds out it is not. . ." Elrohir continued, and Elladan finished, his
voice flat with his greatest fear.
	"It will break his heart."
	Haldir exchanged glances with his brothers, whose faces had turned serious. 
"We will help you."
	"Thank you," Elladan said, sending a look of gratitude in Haldir's direction.


	Legolas found himself unable to breathe as he gazed at his beloved.  He stopped
in the trees before Estel could notice him and stood there, watching the man who
owned his heart.  Estel's thick brown hair was shining almost auburn in the sun,
his face lit up with amusement.  He wore a silvery blue tunic that matched his
eyes, the cloth fitting perfectly over his slender, muscular body.  His skin was
darkened from many days traveling in the sun and his face had a few more
wrinkles around the eyes, but no other signs of aging had touched the man.  It
took a moment for Legolas to realize Estel was laughing at someone and he
shifted his gaze to see Arwen smiling up at the Ranger.  She offered him her
hand, and he lifted her up from where she was sitting on the riverbank.  Legolas
couldn't help but notice that she didn't release Estel's hand once she was
standing.  
	The couple began to walk slowly in Legolas's direction and he stepped back 
into
the shadows, wanting to cherish this moment a little longer, not knowing he was
a fool to do so.  His face grew confused as Estel paused and lifted Arwen's hand
to his lips.  The Ranger said something that must have pleased the Elfmaid
greatly, for she cupped his cheek and leaned in to kiss him.  When their mouths
finally parted, they continued to hold each other.  Legolas didn't need his
Elvish hearing to understand the words that passed their lips.
	"I love you, my Lady Evenstar."
	"And I, you, my handsome Ranger," the Elfmaid smiled and kissed him again.
	A pain as sharp as a knife lodged into Legolas's stomach and twisted there,
showing no signs of relief.  Clenching his teeth against the cry that pounded at
his throat, he grabbed his middle with one hand, the other using a tree as
support.  Closing his eyes, he tried to block out the image of the two, but the
sight of his beloved gazing at another with his heart in his eyes was burned
into the Elf's mind.  Turning, he ran blindly through the forest, not even
noticing as he passed by one of the twins.
	"Legolas!" Elladan shouted and tried to grab him, but the golden Prince was
beyond his reach.
	Legolas ran deep into the woods, following no path, but simply trying to put as
much distance between himself and the cause of his grief as possible.  His head
began to throb, a horrible pressure beating against the sides of his skull that
nearly blinded him.  With a cry, Legolas collapsed onto his knees, his arms
wrapped around his head.  Moaning unintelligibly, he rocked back and forth,
praying that the pain inside his mind would go away.  Instead, it seemed to
increase until he could take it no more.  Throwing back his head, he let out a
scream that filled the woods of Lothlorien.  Birds were startled from their
nests and beasts scattered in fear.  Elves froze in their place, their blood
running cold.  Everywhere, the air was filled with the sound of anguish, of
loss, of suffering... and then all was still.
	His mouth remaining open with a silent scream, Legolas clutched his heart as a
new pain began.  Drawing a large breath with a gasp, he curled up on the forest
floor.  One hand on his chest, the other clawed at the earth as this new agony
caused his entire body to ache.  Tears flooded his eyes and spilled down his
face as an invisible force squeezed his heart.
	"No," he whispered, grasping a handful of the earth, dirt sliding out from
between his fingers as leaves crackled in his fist.  "Please, I can't take it
anymore!  The pain!  Make it stop, please, make it stop!"
	Sobbing from the agony wracking his body, Legolas rolled over onto his back. 
As he blinked the tears from his eyes, bright pinpoints of light filled his
vision.  He focused on the lights, the misery of his body slowly beginning to
fade as the stars reached out to him.  Legolas found his sorrow was no longer as
difficult to bear when the cool silver light enfolded him, the spirits of the
Elves welcoming him home.


	"Legolas!"
	Estel jumped at the sound of his brother's voice.  "Elladan?" 
	"Estel?" Arwen said, her eyes darkening with concern as her beloved's face
turned pale.  "Is something wrong?"
	"Did you hear--I thought I heard Elladan.  Wait here," he said, trying to
reassure her with a smile as he stood up.  "I'll be right back."
	Estel ran into the woods where a party of Elves had gathered.  He was more 
than
a little surprised to see his brothers standing there with Haldir and his kin,
all of them looking at each other with fear in their eyes.
	"Elladan?  Elrohir?  What are you doing here?"  All five heads moved to face
him as he approached, his surprise turning to astonishment as Elladan lunged at
him, his hands outstretched.
	"What did you do to him?" his brother growled, the others shouting as they held
back the furious Elf.
	"What are you talking about?"
	"Legolas!"
	"Legolas is here?"  Estel's stomach dropped in fear as he looked over his
shoulder to where he left Arwen, then faced his brothers.  "Did he see?"
	"See what?" Elrohir asked.
	"I--I was walking with Arwen, down by the river.  Did he see us?"
	"What do you think?" Elladan spat, shaking off the restraining arms of the
other Elves.  "The expression on his face when he ran by--it would have been
easier for him if you'd just taken your sword and cut off his head.  Why did you
hide it from him, Estel?  Why didn't you tell him ten years ago, two years ago,
a year?  Why did you wait so long?"
	"I didn't want to hurt him," Estel whispered, his limbs seeming to grow heavy
as he realized what he'd done.
	"Congratulations.  You've failed miserably."
	"Elladan, that's enough!" Elrohir said, silencing his twin with a look as Estel
turned away, unable to face the accusations of his brother.  "This isn't
helping.  Right now, we should be concentrating on finding--"
	A scream interrupted him, a scream that stopped their hearts with fear, and
then the sound was gone.  The enormity of pain in that single voice would haunt
their most terrifying nightmares for the rest of eternity, for they would never
hear anything like it again.
	"What was that?" Rumil asked, glancing around as if he expected the very trees
to attack them.
	"Legolas," Elladan whispered, and Elrohir nodded in agreement.
	"His heart is breaking."
	"Breaking?  No!" Estel shouted.  "I will not let this happen!"
	Pushing through the group, he ran into the forest, heading towards the
direction of the scream.  The others tried to follow but Estel quickly outran
them.
	"Spread out!" Haldir commanded.  "We'll have a better chance of finding them 
if
we search in groups."
	The others agreed.  Since the Galadhrim were more familiar with the forest than
the twins, Elladan traveled with Haldir and Elrohir with Orophin, while Rumil
set off on his own.  Calling both Estel's and Legolas's names, they began
combing the woods for any signs of either the Elf or the mortal.

	Estel ran through the woods, oblivious to the branches that slashed at his skin
or the ache of his ankle after he stumbled, twisting it fiercely.  His heart
forced him on, connected to the heart of his love, whose agony guided him more
surely than any tracking he might have done.  His head began to throb, sparks of
pain pulsing in his chest.  He started gasping for breath, stumbling over holes
in the earth and tree roots sticking out of the ground.  And then the pain began
to fade.  
	For a moment, he was relieved, and then he realized what it meant.  Once the
pain was gone. . .
	"Legolas, no!  Hold on!  I'm coming!"
	Estel was so intent on reaching Legolas that he almost tripped over the Elf
lying motionless on the ground.  He threw himself down at the Prince's side,
shaking the slender shoulders as the empty blue eyes stared up at the sky. 
Pressing his fingers to the Elf's neck, he tried in vain to find a pulse.  A
chill of terror began to creep into his body--he couldn't be too late.  This was
Legolas, the one person in his life whose very presence used to make him feel
complete.  He didn't know if he could exist without the golden Prince in the
world.
	"Legolas, wake up!  I'm sorry!  Do you hear me, I'm sorry!"  Estel began to
sob, burying his face in the Elf's chest.  "I should have told you about Arwen,
but I didn't want to risk losing you.  I love you, Legolas.  I love you more
than my own life.  I beg you, take my life for yours, I don't care, just please,
wake up."
	Estel looked up, hoping his words had managed to reach the Elf, but Legolas 
lay
still, the pupils of his eyes reflecting only the light of the stars.
	"Legolas. . ." Estel whispered.  "You can't do this.  You promised me.  Do you
remember?  You promised you would never leave me.  You cannot go--you cannot
break your promise."
	Still there was nothing.
	"Dammit, Legolas!  I'm sorry!  Listen to me--I'm sorry!  Just please, don't
leave me."  Estel took the Elf's face between his hands so that he saw his
reflection in Legolas's eyes.  "I love you," he said softly, then pressed his
lips to the golden Prince's.  "I love you."


	"I love you."
	Legolas smiled, lifting his arms to accept the embrace of the luminous beings
reaching for him.  He was finally at peace and free of all the pain that had
destroyed him.  He could rest and watch over those he cared about from above,
ready to welcome them when their time came.
	"I love you."
	The words echoed in his ears and he thought they were coming from the 
ethereal
figures surrounding him.  A shadow crossed his eyes, blocking out his view of
the shimmering Elves as he felt a pressure on his mouth that hadn't been there
before.  The shadow passed and he could see his ancestors once more, but this
time they were slowly fading away, their arms at their sides.
	"No, wait!" Legolas called.  "You cannot leave without me!  Please don't go!"
	Giving him one last smile of reassurance, the Elves retreated back into the
stars, and then were gone.
	"No!" he cried aloud, reaching for the sky.
	"Legolas, it's all right, I'm here.  We're together.  It's going to be okay."
	The deep blue eyes turned their gaze away from the stars until focusing on the
blue-gray eyes of Estel.  Shoving the human aside, he tried to stand, but his
limbs were too weak.  He stumbled, landing on his knees, and wrapped his arms
around his body.  
	"Stay away from me."
	"Legolas," Estel said, stretching out his arm and the Elf cringed, shrinking
from his touch.
	"Don't!"
	His chest twisted in pain and Estel turned away from the sight of his beloved
so repulsed by his very presence.  He had never wanted this to happen, to be the
cause of any sorrow for the Elf.  He had to try and explain, somehow.
	"I never intended any of this.  How was I to know I would fall in love with you
both?"
	"Be quiet!" Legolas said, curling up into a ball as if to ward off the Ranger's
words, but Estel refused to be put off.
	"I do love you, Legolas, though you may find it difficult to believe.  I would
gladly trade my life for yours rather than cause you any pain."
	This seemed to catch Legolas's attention.  The Elf looked at him, his eyes
glittering with loathing.  "Do you mean that?"
	"Yes," Estel said, swallowing hard.  He had never seen that espression in
Legolas's eyes, and it terrified him, but at least the Elf was looking at him. 
"I mean every word."
	Legolas lunged at him, a knife appearing in his hand as he pinned Estel to the
ground, the blade at his throat.  The Ranger's eyes widened as the knife pierced
his skin, but he refused to struggle.
	"If I told you that I am going to kill you now, you will not fight me?"
	"I will not.  I love you, Legolas!"
	"Stop saying that!" the Elf said, pressing the blade deeper as tears slid down
his cheeks to land on Estel's face.  "I will listen to your lies no longer!"
	"Look at me, Legolas, and know I speak the truth.  I love you."
	"And what about her?  Do you love her?"
	Though he knew it would cause the Elf more harm, he knew he had to be 
honest. 
"Yes, I love her."
	"You can only be with one of us, Estel.  You can only love one of us.  Choose!"
	"No!  We can find a way to be together.  I cannot live without you, Legolas.  I
love you and I know you love me, but Arwen and I also love each other.  We will
find a way to work this out."
	"No," the golden Prince said, shaking his head as the knife's touch began to
loosen.  Though he moved and spoke, his eyes were without life as he gazed on
the human.  "No.  You have made your choice.  Our love is dead."  
	Legolas sat back, then rose on trembling legs, using the nearest tree for
support.  Carefully, he turned towards the city and began walking.  Though his
body was exhausted from its ordeal, he refused to stay near Estel a moment
longer.
	"Legolas," Estel whispered as he sat up, tears streaming down his face to mix
with the blood at his throat.  He couldn't bear to see what he had done to this
beautiful, graceful creature, who now moved with the surety of an old man and
whose inner light was nearly depleted.  "Legolas!"
	Legolas paused without looking back at the human.  He was silent for a 
moment,
then spoke.  "This makes the second time I have nearly died for love of you.  I
do not think I could survive a third.  Never seek me out again."
	His words struck Estel as surely as if they had been made of arrows, their
shafts digging deep into his chest.  "What if you should seek me?"
	"I won't."
	Estel could only sit there, listening until the hesitant footsteps faded
completely, as he felt his heart begin to break.


	Elladan met Legolas near the edge of the city where the golden Prince collapsed
into his arms, unconscious.
	"Help me get him to his room," Elladan said, simply relieved to see that
Legolas still lived.
	"And your brother?" Haldir asked as they carried their burden up the long climb
to the Prince's quarters.
	"I don't care.  Let the others find him."
	"Elladan--" he began, only to be interrupted by the Elf's sharp voice.
	"Haldir, don't.  The others will see to him.  Legolas is my primary concern."
	The Galadhrim nodded, surprised to find himself saddened as he recognized the
true emotion driving the Elf.  He wondered if Elladan knew the extent of his
feelings towards the Prince of Mirkwood.  He was clearly unaware of Haldir's
feelings for him, and though it hurt him, the Galadhrim knew that it wouldn't
prevent him from accepting Elladan into his bed.  The Prince of Rivendell would
need comforting that night, and even if he meant nothing by it, Haldir knew he
would not be able to turn him away.
	After making certain that Legolas was sleeping soundly, Elladan turned to see
Haldir watching him with an odd look on his face.  Leading the Galadhrim
outside, he took Haldir's hands in his own.
	"Why do you look at me like that?  Is something troubling you?"
	"Nearly losing a friend isn't enough?"
	Come now, Haldir.  We've known each other long enough for me to be able to 
read
your face.  What is weighing on your heart?"
	"Only you, Elladan, but that should not come as a surprise."	
	Elladan smiled, taking the pale figure into his arms.  "Do not let me be the
cause of your troubles, my beautiful one.  I am not worthy enough for that
position."
	"And yet that does not change how I feel, but what about how you feel?"
	The Prince of Rivendell gazed at him, his violet-blue eyes darkening nearly to
black with guarded curiosity.  "What do you mean?"
	"How deep are your feelings for the Elf lying in there?"
	"Haldir!" Elladan chuckled fondly, reaching up to caress the Elf's cheek.  "How
is it that I can know you so well, and yet you know me so little?"
	"Do you love Legolas?"  
	Elladan looked into Haldir's eyes, and sighed.  "Yes, very much, I won't deny
it.  There are times when I think I may be consumed by love of him, but what
you're wanting to know is that if he had died tonight, would my heart have
broken?"  
	The Galdahrim nodded and Elladan shrugged.  
	"It might have cracked a little, but it would have mended with time.  Now that
I know the worst is over and that he will live, I find that my desire for him is
not quite so demanding.  In fact," he added, gazing into Haldir's eyes, "as I no
longer have to fear for his life, my desire seems to be turning its attention
elsewhere."
	"Is it now?" Haldir asked, arching an eyebrow at the raven-haired Prince.
	"Indeed," Elladan said, pressing his body against the Galadhrim's, "and it is
quite impatient."
	"And what of me?" Haldir wondered, not quite ready to give in to the Prince
mentally, though physically his body was already responding.  "Would your heart
crack if I were to die?"
	"Yes," Elladan said, brushing his lips across the other's.  "But I do not think
any amount of time would allow it to heal, and therefore I beg of you, never
speak of such things again, and live forever."
	"I shall see what I can arrange," Haldir smiled as Elladan guided him to the
Prince's room, not believing a word of what the Elf had said, but not wanting to
waste time arguing with him either.


	Upon learning that the Prince of Mirkwood had been discovered barely alive, 
but
alive nonetheless, Arwen began searching through Lorien for Estel.  She didn't
understand what was going on, only that Estel was somehow responsible for nearly
breaking Legolas's heart.  Estel had never mentioned the golden Prince to her,
except to name him as his dearest friend.  She should have suspected something
from the light in his eyes whenever he spoke about the archer, but her own heart
had blinded her.
	What if he did love Legolas?  Did that mean he didn't love her?  She shook her
head--she would never believe that.  Estel loved her--it was one of the facts of
her life she would never doubt.  But what if he also loved another?  She
couldn't imagine a life without him.  Would she be willing to share him with
Legolas?
	Arwen frowned as she continued her search.  She wouldn't answer that question
until she spoke with Estel, if she could find him.  She tried all the usual
spots that he frequented when he needed solitude, but they were empty.  Of
course--he would never hide anywhere so obvious, she thought with a smile.  It
would defeat the purpose of hiding.
	Pausing, she lifted her head to the sky and closed her eyes.  A small breeze
brushed through her hair, sending dark strands tickling over her face.  She
deeply brethed in the cool night air, feeling the magic of Lothlorien easing her
mind and filling her with calm.
	Her blue eyes opening, she walked towards the outskirts of the city until she
reached the base of one of the large trees.  Huddled between the roots was
Estel, his head resting on his knees.
	Arwen knelt down in front of him, placing a soft hand on his head.  "Estel..."
	"Leave me, Arwen."
	"I will not," she smiled.
	"Just go, please," he said, his voice pleading.
	"How unlike you to beg, my dear Ranger."
	Estel raised his head, hesitantly meeting her eyes.  "Why are you here?"
	"Why are you?" she said, trying to keep her voice light despite the anguish on
his face that threatened to bring tears to her eyes.
	"I have caused someone I care about a lot of pain."
	"How?"
	Estel searched her face and seeing only love there, he decided to speak. 
	"Ten years ago, I met and fell in love with Legolas, and he fell in love with
me.  Two months after meeting him, I came to Lorien and fell in love with you."
	"And I with you."
	"Do not say that.  You may regret it--he certainly did."
	"Estel, I will never regret loving you, but why did you never tell me how deep
your feelings were for him?  Why did you never tell him about me?"
	"I don't know," he sighed, once more burying his face in his knees.  "I think I
was afraid I would risk losing you both."
	"Did you even consider that maybe we could find a way for all of us to be
happy?"
	"According to Legolas, that isn't possible.  He said I would have to choose,
and he decided that I had chosen you."
	"You nearly broke his heart, Estel."
	"I did break it."
	"But you brought him back."
	"For which he may never forgive me."
	"Estel--"
	"Arwen," he interrupted.  "Would you share me with him?  Would it bother you 
to
know that when I'm away from you, I'm spending my nights in his arms?"
	The Lady Evenstar stared down at her hands.  She wasn't sure if she wanted to
answer.  She didn't know how she would feel about sharing Estel.  She wanted him
to be happy, but would it be at the risk of their own happiness?  What about
their future together--could three of them have a future?  Closing her eyes, she
tried to picture Legolas in Estel's arms, her beloved kissing the golden Prince,
the two of them--her eyes snapped open, her reaction not unnoticed by Estel.
	"Arwen?"
	"If you truly love him, and he truly loves you...Estel, I don't know.  I need
to think about this."
	She rose to her feet, staring down at the forlorn figure.  "I do know that I
will love you, no matter what you do.  Never forget that."
	Kissing the top of his head, the Princess of Rivendell left him to his
thoughts.


	Legolas was packing the last of his things when there was a knock at his door. 
He turned to see Arwen enter with a tray of bread and fresh fruit in her hands. 
She paused for a moment, shocked by the change that had overcome him.  The light
was gone from his eyes and his cheeks were sunken in as if he had been ill,
which made his appearance even more worrying.
	"Good morning, Legolas," she said, forcing a smile.
	He turned away, unable to look at the Elfmaid.  "Arwen, what are you doing
here?"
	"Don't you remember?  We always used to bring each other breakfast when we 
were
young and, as I recall, it's my turn."  She placed the tray in the center of the
bed and climbed onto the mattress.  Legolas stared at her for a few moments
until she arched an eyebrow at him.  "Aren't you going to join me?"
	"We aren't children anymore."
	"But we can pretend, can't we?  For a little while?"  In that instant, she
revealed to him a hint of the hurt she was hiding, and he immediately felt
guilty for being so selfish about his own feelings.  With a sigh, the golden
Prince climbed onto the bed and sat facing her across the tray.
	Arwen smiled, the reaction coming naturally to her this time.  She began
slicing up a green apple and divided the pieces between them.
	"Did you know that for the longest time I thought I was in love with you?" she
said, crunching into one of the tart wedges.
	Legolas froze, the apple in his hand halfway to his mouth.  "Arwen--"
	"No, it's true," she said, avoiding his eyes in her embarrassment.  "I kept
hoping that one day you would ride into Lorien, or Rivendell, wherever I
happened to be at the time, and promise to make all my dreams come true.  But
you never did, and I learned to love you as a friend again.  Who knew," she said
with a sad smile, "that the reason you never loved me was that we would be
destined to fall in love with the same man."
	"I'm sorry, Arwen.  I never wanted to hurt you."
	"And Estel--did you want to hurt him?"  The golden Prince looked away.  "He
loves you, Legolas, and he needs you.  Do you really want to lose him?"
	Legolas studied the raven-haired Princess who was watching him with her kind
blue eyes.  "How much do you know about who Estel truly is?"
	"Do you mean Estel, or Aragorn?"
	"So you know."
	She nodded.  "Father told Estel when he turned twenty-five, and Estel told me."
	"Then you will understand why it is you who are meant to be with him, and not
I."
	"Who Estel is doesn't change who he loves."
	"It may not matter to Estel, but it will matter to Aragorn.  He needs heirs,
and will never betray you."
	"It isn't a betrayal if he has my permission."
	"And you would do that?  Turn a blind eye should he seek my room at night, 
and
not yours?"
	"Legolas!" She found herself hiding her face from the Elf.  "I never said it
would be easy," she whispered, then returned her gaze to him, her eyes
determined, "but I would rather see him happy with us both than miserable
without you."
	The golden Prince rose from the bed, but not before leaning over to kiss her
cheek.  "You are the most astonishing creature I have ever met, Arwen.  Perhaps
I should have married you--it certainly would have saved us all this grief."  He
headed for the door, shouldering his bag as he did so.  "I must go meet with
your grandparents, and then I am returning to Mirkwood."
	"What about Estel?"
	"Goodbye, fair Evenstar," Legolas said softly, and left.


	Elrond rounded the corner in the garden and stopped, an adoring smile crossing
his face.  Glorfindel was stretched out on the grass, his hands behind his head
as he was bathed in the sun's light.  The Elf Lord's eyes ran along his
beloved's body from the silky blond hair to the bare feet, noticing that
Glorfindel's boots were standing off to the side.  Though his face had gained in
maturity over the years, the ancient Elf appeared just as beautiful as the day
they had met, a difficult feat, considering all they had been through together. 
Yet despite all that, he looked completely at ease, a feeling neither of them
felt often enough these days.
	"I was wondering where you'd disappeared to," Elrond said.
	Glorfindel smiled without opening his eyes.  "And I was wondering how much
longer you were going to stand there before you said something.  Am I needed?"
	"Always," Elrond chuckled softly as he neared the Elf, "but if you're referring
to matters of state, there is nothing pressing at the moment.  Continue to enjoy
the day, and I will leave you in peace."
	"You have immediate business to tend to?"
	He frowned slightly as he thought of the things required his attention. 
"Nothing immediate, no."
	"Good," Glorfindel grinned, grabbing his Lord's hand and pulling the Elf down
to his side before he could object.  "Then you can enjoy this day with me."
	Elrond didn't even consider trying to escape, but relented immediately into his
lover's embrace.  He stretched out to the side of Glorfindel, using the Elf's
chest as a pillow as Glorfindel wrapped a possessive arm around Elrond's
shoulders.
	Closing his eyes, the Lord of Rivendell listened to the sounds of his realm: 
the wind blowing through the leaves, the rush of the waterfalls, the murmur of
Elvish voices, birds singing to each other in the trees.  It was painful for him
to imagine that it would one day soon all be gone, that Elves would no longer
walk the paths of Rivendell, that his city would turn to rubble and fade to
dust.
	"Though we may be leaving these shores, our presence will still remain.  The
inhabitants of the land may one day forget us, but the land itself never will."
	Elrond turned his head to face the Elf who was looking down at him.  "There 
are
times when I believe you are an extension of my self, you are able to read me so
well."
	"I cannot help it," Glorfindel teased.  "You are easier to read than a child's
book."
	The Elf Lord raised an eyebrow.  "Indeed?  And what am I thinking now?"
	Glorfindel's eyes widened in mock astonishment.  "My Lord!  This is hardly the
place for that sort of thing!"
	Laughing, Elrond leaned forward to kiss his beloved, then returned to his
former position.  "You're right.  Maybe later.  Have we heard from the children
recently?"
	"No," the blond Elf replied, frowning as he considered how long it had been
since they'd received word from Lorien.  "It has been rather quiet lately. 
Should we be concerned?"
	"The four of them together?  I should be surprised if Lorien is still
standing."
	"Then perhaps we should start preparing for refugees."
	Elrond chuckled, closing his eyes.  They were silent for a few moments when a
slight crease appeared on his brow.  It was as if he could hear the voices of
his children calling to him.  He sat up, looking around him, the Elf behind him
doing the same.  "Glorfindel?"
	"I hear them, too."
	The Elves stood and began walking towards the palace when three dark heads
appeared in their view.
	"Father!" Arwen cried, throwing herself in Elrond's arms.
	"Arwen!" he said, holding her close.  It had been too long since he had felt
his daughter's embrace.  Within seconds, two other sets of arms wrapped around
them, and Elrond widened his embrace to accommodate them.  "Elladan, Elrohir,
what are you doing here?  Is everything all right?"
	"Let us just say our trip to Lorien was a little more eventful than usual,"
Elrohir said as the twins stepped back while Arwen kept an arm wrapped around
her father's waist.  Glorfindel moved forward to join them, the twins each
sliding an arm through his to include him in the family discussion.
	"What happened?" Glorfindel asked.
	"Have you heard from Estel?" Arwen asked, looking between them.
	"No," Elrond replied, realizing for the first time that his foster son was
absent.  "I thought he was in Lorien with you."
	"He was, for a little while," Elrohir said, the Elf's face unusually sad.
	Elrond nodded for a moment, realizing that this was no simple tale his children
had to tell.  "Why don't you go inside and get yourselves cleaned up, and then
we can talk."
	"Yes, father," they replied in unison.  Arwen reached up to kiss his cheek, and
then they left.
	The Lord of Rivendell watched as the figures of his three children disappeared
from view, then looked at Glorfindel.  "What do you think?"
	"I don't know what to think.  I'm almost afraid to, but I must admit, I fear
the worst."
	"As do I," Elrond nodded, then gazed out at the valley that was his home,
wondering where his foster son could be.
	"I'm sure he is safe," Glorfindel said, placing a reassuring arm around his
Lord as they began their walk to the palace, "but if you so desire, I will send
a company of Elves to look for him."
	"No," he said, shaking his head.  "We have taught him well.  Estel can take
care of himself.  But if we haven't heard from him in two month's time, then we
can consider searching for him."
	"I'm certain the Rangers and the Lorien Elves will be glad to offer their
support."
	"And the Elves of Mirkwood?" Elrond asked, quick to notice that they hadn't
been mentioned.
	"Let us wait and see what the young ones have to say first, and then we can
determine whether or not Mirkwood should be taken into consideration."
	"Do you think there is a reason why fate has been so cruel to my family?"
Elrond asked softly as they entered the cool halls.
	"For those who live as long as we do, perhaps it seems that fate is being
cruel, as we have thousands of years worth of memories to hold and much time to
dwell on them.  However, you must also consider how much good has happened to us
as well.  Your children, for example, or our love for each other.  There is
always something good to counter the cruelty."
	"Perhaps you are right," Elrond said, pausing to smile at his beloved.  "Thank
you."
	"For what?"
	"For being here, for everything."
	"For everything?" the Elf grinned.  "Oh, I can hardly take credit for
everything.  I certainly claim no responsibility for the twins."
	"Even though you helped me raise them?"
	"I know," the Elf frowned, shaking his head.  "I cannot explain it.  I would
have thought they would have turned out differently, which is why I claim no
responsibility for them.  For everything else, yes, but not for them."
	Elrond laughed, taking Glorfindel into his arms.  "I do love you."
	"As you should," Glorfindel chuckled, kissing the Elf Lord.  "And I love you as
well.  Now let us see what sort of trouble the children have gotten into."


	The months passed.  Spring turned into summer, summer into fall, and fall
gradually made its way into winter, each day fading into the next without a word
from Estel.  Elrond, enlisting the aid of the Rangers and the Lorien Elves,
searched all of Middle-Earth for his foster son, but without success. 
Eventually, the searchers returned to their lives, though they promised to keep
an eye out for Estel and send word to the Elf Lord if he was spotted.  
	The twins, disheartened by their brother's disappearance, stayed by their
sister's side, all remaining in Rivendell to keep their father from falling into
despair.  That the three remained to keep themselves from giving up hope as
well, they never mentioned, but was shown by their actions.  They found ways to
keep themselves occupied, from redesigning the gardens to taking up hobbies such
as painting, as well as making up games to pass the long hours, but always
performing these tasks together.  
	As the world grew cold, the skies turned gray and the trees and plants around
them went into hibernation.  Even so, it wasn't until the first snowfall that
their determination to keep their high spirits truly became forced.  Over time,
the three came to wander through Rivendell like ghosts, rarely speaking, only
walking, waiting for word they feared would never come.
	The only joy in the twins' lives were the letters they wrote to Legolas, and
the letters they received in return.  The three Princes drove the messengers mad
running back and forth between Mirkwood and Rivendell.  Several more Elves had
to be assigned to this single purpose in both lands, as those already given the
task were completely occupied by the Princes' and no other messages were able to
get through.  It was said that the messengers themselves had set up a relay
system to make travel easier, occasionally switching places so no one Elf would
be stuck running the same stretch over and over again.  The twins wrote letters
completely dedicated to placing the most outrageous and obscene tales on
parchment that ever existed.  Legolas in turn scolded them for their base minds,
and then matched their lewd tales with his own.  If the messengers knew just
what it was they were carrying, they probably would have quit.
	Occasionally, a serious note was added on--a message from Elrond or Arwen
usually concerning Legolas's health, but sometimes they would ask whether or not
the Prince had any word of Estel.  They didn't want to cause Legolas any pain,
but their concern for Estel was too great to be denied.
	Little did they know that they had every reason to fear for the Ranger, for he
was indeed in trouble.


	Estel had spent three seasons traveling through the wilds, going beyond where
any Ranger had passed before.  He had tried to walk away his pain, he had tried
to sweat out his guilt, he had tried to starve his need for either Arwen or
Legolas, but nothing had worked.  Finally, he turned towards home, realizing he
could run forever, but he would never escape.  He had to return and face his
destiny, as well as those he loved.  
	Upon reaching the base of the Misty Mountains, Estel became caught in a
blizzard.  Weakened by the ordeal he had put himself through, he was in no
condition to endure a flurry, much less winds that could lift a man off his feet
and a blinding whiteness that threatened to drown every living thing in a sheet
of cold and ice.  He forced himself to trudge through the snow for hours, and
even when the winds died down, the flakes continued to fall.  His body grew numb
and chilled, his breath burning in his lungs.  When he could endure no more, he
collapsed across a snowdrift, his eyes closed as he welcomed the sudden warmth
that filled his veins.
	Voices sounded in his ears, the light delicate voices that could only belong to
Elves.  He tried to lift his head to see if he was hallucinating, but it was too
heavy and he was much too comfortable in the darkness.  He did try to speak,
however, but the words sounded like nonsense to his ears, so he stopped and
drifted off into sleep.


	Legolas had been sent home from the war in disgrace.  At least, that's how his
father looked at it.  Legolas had ceased to care long before then.  The golden
Prince had returned from Lorien only a few days before the Orcs renewed their
attacks.  His father had placed him in charge of the one of the elite companies
of archers directly under the King's command.  If this had happened before
Legolas's trip to Lorien, he would have considered it an honor.  As it was, he
simply wanted a distraction to keep himself from dwelling on Estel, and war was
as good a distraction as anything.
	Menelhen the Healer watched with worried eyes as Legolas threw himself into
battle.  The Elf fought with little concern for himself, fending off everything
in his path.  When he ran out of arrows, he used his swords.  When the fighting
became too close for swords, he used his hands.  Time and time again, Menelhen
was forced to patch up the many wounds on Legolas's body, which were only
brought to the Elf's attention by the Healer himself.  Legolas would have
continued fighting, bleeding from cuts all over his body, if his fellow Elves
hadn't pulled him off the field.
	When the fighting paused, both sides needing to regroup, most of the Elves
would use the time to rest and prepare for the next round.  Legolas, on the
other hand, couldn't sleep.  He walked around the camp visiting with the Elves,
or he sat in his tent sharpening his blades or making arrows.  He didn't dare
close his eyes, fearing he would see Estel.  Finally, the lack of sleep began to
take its toll.  When he nearly punched Thranduil himself as the King had been
coming to his aid, he was told to return to the castle until he was prepared to
be a proper warrior.
	Promising to make certain the Prince returned to full health, Menelhen had
volunteered his services as a Healer, and Thranduil had consented.  Through the
help of certain herbs, the Prince had overcome his physical exhaustion, but the
light had failed to return to his eyes and his skin remained unnaturally pale. 
Menelhen couldn't understand what was wrong, and he didn't dare ask Legolas for
fear of offending him.  Legolas wandered through the woods surrounding the
castle, Menelhen always watching anxiously for his return, as he was secretly
afraid that one day the golden Prince would vanish into the trees and never come
back.
	One winter's day, Legolas sat reading the latest of the twins' letters.  It
would be a long lull before the next one arrived, as the storm had blocked off
all the paths through the mountains.  Though a smile crossed his face as he
read, it failed to reach his eyes.  His laughter sounded hollow as it echoed
through the near-empty castle.  Many of the building's rooms had been closed as
there weren't enough Elves remaining to occupy it, as they were busy fighting in
the war.  Those who did inhabit the fortress were gathered into one small part
in order to conserve heat.
	A knock sounded on the door, and Legolas glanced up from the parchment in 
his
hands.  "Yes?"
	"My Lord," the two Elves said, bowing before their Prince.  They were dressed
in shades of brown, white, and gray in order to blend in with the winter
landscape.  One stepped forward.
	"My Lord, we were searching through the woods to estimate the damage left by
the blizzard when we came across a man half buried in a snowdrift."
	"Did you now?"
	"Despite the fact that he was nearly frozen, he was alive.  When we approached,
he began muttering words in Elvish.  Most of it was nonsense, but we were able
to distinguish your name."
	"My name?  How very odd," Legolas said, trying to keep his voice 
disinterested,
though his blood was pounding in his veins.  "What did you do with him?"
	"I hope you do not object, but we brought him here, my Lord."
	Legolas sighed.  "Well, I suppose there was nothing else you could do.  Set him
up in one of the empty rooms and send for Menelhen.  Let the Healer know I am
holding him personally responsible for the recovery of this human and I expect
to see him returned to full health as soon as possible."  
	"Yes, My Lord."  The two Elves bowed and left the room.
	That should keep the Healer occupied and out of my hair for a while, the golden
Prince thought once they were gone.  Menelhen's infatuation was becoming
increasingly intrusive on Legolas's solitude, the young Elf refusing to let him
wallow as he desired, but instead always trying to engage him in conversation or
some sort of activity.  It was highly irritating.
	As for the human, who else could it be but Estel?  What other man would know
his name?  On the other hand, Estel had more sense than to get trapped in a
blizzard--he hoped.  He was a Ranger, after all.  Legolas would have to see this
human for himself in order to determine his identity.  
	Biting his lip, the golden Prince stared out the window, his eyes glancing over
his home blanketed by snow, wishing his thoughts were as peaceful as the
unbroken landscape.  What if it was Estel under his roof and only a few
footsteps away?  What if it was the man he had loved and who had broken his
heart?  Legolas felt his restlessness creeping back up on him, and he was
overcome by a need to be outside.
	Grabbing his white cloak from the chair, he wrapped it around his shoulders and
walked into the hall just in time to see Menelhen leading a group of Elves into
the room next to his.  In their arms was the unconscious Ranger.  His heart
seemed to drop as he caught sight of Estel--it was impossible not to recognize
him, despite how much his appearance had changed.  The human's pale skin was
tinged with blue, his beard and hair unkempt, his clothes nearly worn through in
places.  The air was released from his lungs with a horrible wheezing sound, and
the Ranger was barely able to draw his breath back in.
	Legolas stood in the hall, staring at the door through which they had carried
Estel with a stricken look on his face.  His heart longed to rush to his
beloved's side, while his mind told him that Estel was no longer his beloved. 
Why?  Why did he have to come here?  Why couldn't he have gotten trapped in a
storm in Lorien, or Rivendell?  Why did he have to survive?  Why didn't he just
die out there and save Legolas this agony?
	The golden Prince gasped and stepped back, his head turning sharply as if he'd
been slapped as he was filled with self-loathing.  Never had thoughts so false
passed through his mind.  He knew he didn't want Estel harmed in any way.  It
was the continuation of his own life that filled him with distress, but there
was nothing he could do.  Through his love, Estel had brought him back, and now
Legolas was alive while Estel was lying in the next room fighting for his life.
	And still Legolas couldn't go to him.  He didn't have the courage--he didn't
have the strength.
	Menelhen emerged from the room, and though he was in a hurry, he paused 
upon
seeing the Prince.  The Healer had never seen Legolas look so. . . shattered.
	"My Lord?"  The Elf didn't respond, but stared blankly at him.  Menelhen
approached, reaching out to place a hand on the Prince's shoulder.  "Legolas?"
	"I can't." Shaking his head, he wrenched his shoulder from the Healer's touch,
backing away a few feet before he turned and ran.
	"Legolas!"  Menelhen wanted nothing more than to run after the Prince, but the
human needed his immediate attention and as a Healer, he could not refuse. 
Still, he promised himself to find the Prince as soon as possible and discover
what was wrong. 


	When Menelhen left the Ranger's room hours later, he was surprised to see
Legolas lurking outside.  Though relieved the Prince had returned, Menelhen was
almost too tired to want to know the reason behind Legolas's strange reaction. 
After removing the Ranger's wet clothing, he had worked hard to try and raise
the human's body temperature.  Though he did manage to save Estel's extremities
from frostbite, a fever had set in and the human was wracked with a horrible
cough.
	"How is he?" Legolas whispered from where he was crouching on the floor,
leaning against the wall across from Estel's door.
	"He is quite ill and will need to be watched closely for the next few days, but
he is alive."
	Legolas's head dropped to his chest as tears appeared in his eyes.  The Healer
knelt down in front of the Prince, lifting his head till their gazes met.
	"My Lord, what is going on?  Why does this human affect you so?"
	The golden Prince stared into Menelhen's silver eyes, noting the dark circles
surrounding them, and smiled softly.  Reaching up, he curled the silky silver
lock of hair between his fingers.  Though quickly gaining notice for his
compassion and gentleness as a Healer, Menelhen would always be remembered first
for being marked by Galadriel.  When he was a baby, the powerful Queen had
kissed his forehead and the hair touched by her lips had immediately turned
silver.  Many Elves considered it to be a sign that Menelhen had been blessed by
the gods and was destined for greatness.  Menelhen refused to consider it at
all.  He preferred to believe that this was the path he would have chosen no
matter what color his hair turned.
	Legolas placed a hand on the Healer's cheek, brushing his thumb over the
seemingly bruised skin beneath his eyes.  "You look tired."
	Menelhen closed his eyes, a warmth filling his body at the Prince's touch.  He
would have done anything to make this moment last forever, but he forced himself
to take a deep breath and look back at Legolas.  "I am tired," he smiled, "but
my night is only just beginning.  I will need to stay with the human to make
certain we don't lose him before the sun rises."
	"Estel," Legolas said, dropping his hand and turning his head to break the
Healer's gaze.  "His name is Estel."
	"So you do know him."
	"Yes," he said, standing abruptly.  "I did.  Thank you for taking care of him."
	Before another word could be said, Legolas vanished into his room.  Menelhen
remained kneeling for a moment, his eyes on the Prince's door, and then he
slowly stood, wondering if he would ever be able to understand his Lord.


	As the days passed, Legolas would wait for Menelhen outside of Estel's room to
hear reports on the human's condition, but never would he enter the room itself. 
No word had yet been sent to Rivendell, though once the mountain paths had
cleared enough for travel, he had prepared a letter waiting to inform Elrond
that his missing son had been found.  Estel's lungs had grown strong again in
the warmth of the castle, though it would still be a week or so before they were
fully healed.  The fever, however, continued to wrack his body.  Menelhen
couldn't explain it, except that perhaps there was something beyond the physical
that was preventing Estel from growing well.  He was only a Healer of the body,
not the mind.  Estel would have to fight this battle on his own, while Menelhen
did his best to see that Estel had the strength to do so.
	When Menelhen described his theory to Legolas, the Prince was silent and 
turned
away.  Of course he knew the cause of Estel's suffering, but he refused to say
anything to the Healer.  If the human had wanted to die, he would have done so
by now, but Estel continued to hold on.  Legolas knew better than anyone how
strong Estel was and put his trust in that.
	Late one night, the golden Prince lay across his bed on his stomach, his head
resting his arms as he stared into the fire.  His sleeping troubles had returned
with the reappearance of the Ranger, but he refused the potions offered by the
Healer.  He would be able to sleep when Estel was well and on his way back to
Rivendell.
	The Prince's eyes slowly grew distant, though they continued to reflect the
flames, as he finally fell into a shallow reverie.  His hair, which he had been
wearing loose as he had no need to worry about uninhibited vision, hung down his
face to fall in golden waves over the edge of the bed.  His pale, slender body
was covered by a single silken sheet, as the cold was not a major concern for
the Elves.  Anyone seeing him would have thought he was completely at peace--the
eyes blinked.
	Sitting up, he looked around the room, frowning as his keen gaze found nothing
out of the ordinary.  There had to have been a sound, a moment, anything to have
woken him from his rest.  Legolas threw back the sheet and reached for his robe
when something heavy knocked him back down on the bed.  He cried out as his arms
were pinned above his head, the hands holding his wrists tightening at the
sound.  He tried to struggle, but found he couldn't move--the weight was too
much and his attacker too strong.
	"Don't move," Estel growled and Legolas froze as the Ranger's naked body
pressed against the Elf's own bare skin.  Heat emanated in waves off of the
human's entire body from the fever, covering him in a sheen of sweat.  His
gray-blue eyes were wild as he stared down at the Elf, and for a moment, Legolas
wasn't even sure Estel recognized him.  He tried again to free himself and the
human slammed his wrists down on the bed, pinching the skin in his grip, causing
Legolas to gasp.
	"I told you not to move."
	"Estel, what are you--"
	"Quiet!"  The Ranger paused, studying the golden Prince's face.  "Did you think
I didn't know you were here?  Did you think I couldn't feel you as you walked by
my door, slept in this room, sense you as you were thinking about me?  You are
in my blood, Elf, and I am in yours, though you would deny it."
	Legolas's eyes narrowed.  "Release me, human.  You do not know what you are
talking about."
	"Don't I?"  Estel pressed his mouth to the Elf's, bruising the delicate lips. 
The Elf fought the fire that pulsed through his veins, refusing to respond to
the human's fierce kiss.  He had almost given in when Estel broke his contact. 
"Admit it.  Tell me you love me."
	"I do not."
	The human kissed him again, the beard and moustache nearly rubbing the Elf's
face raw.
	"Tell me you love me."
	"No."
	Estel kissed him again, their bodies pushing together in an automatic reaction
to each other.
	"Say it!
	"Never.  I do not love you."
	"You lie."  
	Estel kissed him once more and this time, Legolas couldn't refuse the passion
in the human's lips.  The Elf kissed him back, opening his mouth to accept
Estel's demanding tongue.  The feeling was so familiar, so natural, and so
missed by both of them that they took a few minutes to enjoy the joining of
their mouths.
	Releasing the Elf's wrists, Estel's hands moved to caress the much beloved
face.  He paused to gaze down into the golden Prince's deep blue eyes, his
fingers brushing over the high cheeks and pointed ears.  The Elf's skin tingled
wherever the human touched him and he bit his lip to keep from moaning aloud.
	The gesture made Legolas seem even more beautiful, even more vulnerable to 
the
Ranger, who couldn't keep from smiling.  This was where he belonged, and he was
a fool to think otherwise.  He only hoped the Elf would no longer fight it.
	"I love you, Legolas of Mirkwood."  He paused a moment, holding his breath as
the golden Prince's eyes searched his own, his heart jumping as Legolas returned
his smile.
	"I love you, Estel of Rivendell."
	Legolas reached up and pulled the Ranger's head down to meet his once more. 
The yearning they had both kept hidden for so long instantly sprang free and
they clutched at each other, holding one another so tight as if they were afraid
to let go.  Their bodies writhed against each other, their hardened members
rubbing together.  Their need was so great they didn't have long before the
friction caused them to reach climax, the essence of both man and Elf spilling
between them.  
	"I'm sorry," Estel said, his eyes closing as Legolas nibbled on his neck.
	"For what?" the Elf asked, rolling them over so he was on top.
	"I have dreamt of this moment for so long, of what it would be like to hold you
again in my arms, and it was nothing like this.  It was supposed to be perfect."
	"This is perfect," Legolas breathed, moving back to Estel's lips.  "Just being
with you is perfect."
	Smiling, the Ranger placed his hands on either side of the Elf's face, burying
his fingers in the golden hair.  "Do you remember what you swore to me those
many years ago?" he whispered, searching Legolas's eyes.  "Do you remember your
promise?"
	"I remember."
	"Please try and keep it this time."
	Legolas chuckled, kissing the Ranger.  "I will do what I can."


	"His fever has broken."
	"What?"  Legolas frowned at the Healer, clearly seeing him for the first time
though he had walked right by him.  He had been completely lost in his thoughts
of Estel, and Arwen, and of their future, all of these intermingled with his
impatience for the night to arrive and to find himself once more in the Ranger's
arms.
	"Estel's fever has broken.  I thought you'd want to know."
	"Oh.  Oh," he shook his head, focusing on Menelhen.  "Yes.  Good.  Thank 
you."
	Legolas turned to move past him when the Healer grabbed his hand, stopping 
him. 
"My Lord, are you all right?"
	"Yes, of course, I'm fine," Legolas said, smiling.  "I'm sorry, Menelhen.  I'm
just a little distracted."
	The golden Prince squeezed the Elf's hand in apology and the Healer gasped,
staring at Legolas's wrist.  The sleeve had edged up to reveal purple, blue, and
red marks glaring against the white of his skin, the bruises appearing in the
shape of a hand.  Menelhen studied the injured wrist, then reached down and
grabbed the other hand to find identical marks appearing on that wrist as well.
	"My Lord!  Are you all right?  What happened?"
	"It's nothing," Legolas said, pulling his hands from the Healer and tugging his
sleeves over the bruises.
	"It isn't nothing.  Someone did this to you," Menelhen said, the need to hurt
the person who had harmed his love clear in his voice.  
	This need caught Legolas's attention and he paused, looking closely at the Elf. 
The Healer had dedicated his existence to prolonging and protecting life.  This
sudden desire to cause harm made Legolas take notice and he realized that what
he had considered to be a harmless infatuation on the part of the other Elf was
perhaps a bit more.  A lot more.
	"Oh, Menelhen," Legolas said, shaking his head, his face sympathetic and filled
with pity as he gazed at the Elf.  "I--"
	"Don't look at me like that," the Healer interrupted, squeezing his eyes shut
as he backed away.  "Please.  I promised myself I could live with this so long
as you never looked at me like that."
	Legolas winced at the bitterness in Menelhen's voice.  "I'm sorry."
	"Why should you be?  This is my affliction."
	"Menelhen--"
	"Please, don't say anything.  Just leave me alone."  The Healer turned and fled
down the hall, leaving Legolas standing there, staring after him in
bewilderment.  With a sigh, the golden Prince turned and walked in the opposite
direction, cursing love for being so difficult.


	The golden Prince paced the length of his room, anxiously waiting for Estel to
appear.  The sun had set an hour before and still the Ranger hadn't shown.  Just
as he began to think that maybe his love had changed his mind, the door opened. 
	"Legolas!" Estel said, taking the Elf into his arms with a passionate kiss.  "I
have been waiting all day for this."
	"As have I," the Elf chuckled, brushing Estel's hair from his face and tucking
it behind a rounded ear.  "What took you so long?"
	"Menelhen said he was going to check on me before he went to bed, but he 
never
arrived, and I got tired of waiting."
	"You should be more patient."
	"I cannot help it.  When you're around, I lose all control."
	"Hopefully not all control," the Elf chuckled as he pulled off Estel's shirt,
then tossed his own to the floor.
	"Oh, no, definitely all control," Estel said, maneuvering the golden Prince
over to the bed.  "For example, I absolutely have to kiss you here--" he pressed
his lips to the sensitive spot between the Elf's shoulder and collarbone "--or I
will go mad.  And I must taste you here--" Estel ran his tongue from Legolas's
navel to his throat "--and bite you here--" he took Legolas's right nipple
between his teeth "--and touch you here."  He thrust his hand down the front of
Legolas's leather breeches.  
	The Elf breathed in deeply, his breath shaking as Estel massaged his hardening
member.  His entire body was trembling, aching from his beloved's teasing,
wanting more.  The Ranger pressed his lips to Legolas's, bending him back onto
the bed as he did so.  Legolas grabbed hold of Estel's shoulders, his
fingernails digging into the flesh as he felt his own control beginning to slip.
	"I have missed this," Legolas whispered as Estel kissed his way across the
Prince's chest.  "I have missed your touch, your smell, your taste--by the gods,
what was I thinking!" 
	His eyes rolled back as the human quickened his strokes on the Prince's bare
elfhood.
	"I will never know," Estel grinned, enjoying Legolas's reactions, promising
himself to take his time that night and remind the Prince of what they had been
like together.
	"My Lord!"  There was a frantic pounding on the door just before it flew open. 
"My Lord--Estel has disap--"  Menelhen froze as he spotted the lovers, staring
at them in shock, the same shock that was mirrored on their faces as they stared
at him.
	The Healer's face turned white as he slowly backed out of the room.  When he
hit the wall opposite of the door, he turned and ran down the hall.
	"Menelhen!" Legolas said, pushing Estel off of him.  "Menelhen!"
	The Prince was a streak of brown, white, and gold as he chased the Healer
through the castle, cursing under his breath all the way.  	"Menelhen, stop!" he
yelled, grabbing on to the gray robes.  Pulling the dark-haired Elf to a halt,
he held the struggling Healer close, pinning his arms to his sides.  Both were
breathing heavily as silver eyes met blue.
	"Let me go!" Menelhen demanded, completely and painfully aware that he was
pressed against the Prince's bare chest.
	"Not until you listen to me."
	"What does it matter?  I'm no concern of yours."
	"It matters to me.  You matter to me.  If I release you, do you promise to
stay?"
	Menelhen glared at the Prince, then nodded.  Legolas loosened his hold, looking
around them to see where they had ended up, then pulled the Healer into the
library.  
	"Sit there," he directed the Elf, pointing at a chair furthest from the door
that he had shut behind them.  Legolas could feel the Healer's resentment as he
obeyed and the Prince sighed.  This wasn't going to be easy.  He placed a chair
directly in front of Menelhen and sat down, the Healer continuing to give him a
dirty look.
	"What's going on?" Menelhen asked.  "You...and Estel...I don't understand."
	"I know, and though it truly doesn't concern you, I feel like I should explain. 
Estel and I met over ten years ago in Rivendell and we grew to love each other. 
Deeply.  Intensely.  Passionately.  He became a part of me.  I needed him more
than I needed air to breathe."
	"Enough," Menelhen said with a  nasty edge to his voce.  "You love each other. 
That much I comprehend.  Is there more?"
	Legolas stared at the Healer, then nodded.  "Through the next ten years, we met
as often as we could, never for long, but it was enough to sustain our love.  Or
so I thought.  You will recall that I returned from Lorien somewhat...changed."
	"I recall."
	"It was in Lorien that I discovered he loved someone else.  It was in Lorien
that Estel broke my heart."  
	All expression drained from Menelhen's face as he realized the implication of
Legolas's words.  "He broke your heart?  Then shouldn't you be..."
	"Dead?  Yes, but he called me back."
	The Healer's eyes widened at the pain in his voice.  "You didn't want to live?"
	"I can't explain it," Legolas said, shaking his head.  "I can't tell you what
it was like.  Maybe one day."
	The Prince was silent, the blue eyes unfocused as the memories of the peace he
had felt in death overwhelmed him.  When he had been quiet for five minutes,
Menelhen roused him with a question.
	"How can Estel love two people?"
	The blue eyes fixed on the Healer.  
	"That is the problem plaguing me at the moment, and what has kept me from
reconciling myself with my feelings for him for so long."  Legolas sighed,
knowing if he dwelled on this question, he would never finish.  "To continue, I
was somewhat less than pleased with Estel and came home.  You are familiar with
the results of that."  The Healer nodded, remembering Legolas's exhaustion and
attempts to get himself killed in battle.  "Estel himself vanished until he
turned up half frozen on the outskirts of Mirkwood."
	"And I was foolish enough to heal him."
	"You didn't know."
	Menelhen sighed.  "Knowing probably wouldn't have stopped me."
	Legolas nodded in agreement.  "It isn't in your nature."
	"Yes.  Pity," the Healer said with a weak smile.
	"Do not say that.  It is one of the many things I admire about you," Legolas
said, taking Menelhen's hands between his.  The Elf pulled away.
	"Don't.  It isn't necessary."
	"What isn't necessary?" Legolas asked, watching as the Healer rose from his
chair and headed towards the door, making no effort to stop him.
	"You and Estel love each other. I understand now."  Menelhen opened the door
and paused, looking back at the golden Prince, who had twisted in his chair to
see him.  "What I don't understand is that if he can love two people, why can't
you?"
	As he stared at the empty doorway,  Legolas realized he didn't have an answer.


To be continued...


[Believe it or not, I absolutely adore Legolas and truly do not wish to see him
dead.  I simply wanted to know what it would feel like for an Elf's heart to
break.  As for the next chapter,